Naruto was facing the counter, clutching something in his hand, seemingly about to pay. Hearing the call, he jolted and turned around, a flicker of panic in his eyes.
"Iruka Sensei?!"
As soon as he spoke, Iruka noticed something was off—Naruto quickly hid the item in his hand behind his back, clenching both hands tightly at his waist. That secretive behavior was completely out of character for his usual mature self.
"Hmm? What's wrong, Naruto?" Iruka deliberately slowed his steps as he approached, his gaze falling on Naruto's tense arms. "Why are you holding your hands behind your back? Did you get something good?"
Naruto's eyes darted as he shuffled half a step to the side, his voice becoming muddled. "…This? It's nothing! Just some… nothing worth mentioning!"
"Your tone doesn't sound like 'nothing worth mentioning'." Iruka couldn't help but curve his lips slightly, then deliberately put on a stern face. "What are you hiding?"
"Seriously!" Naruto took a small step back, grumbling defiantly, "This isn't school! Iruka Sensei can't control things here, can he?"
"Huh? What foolishness are you spouting?" Iruka took two steps forward, his voice carrying a teacher's authority. "As your teacher, there's no…"
"Cough!"
A deliberate cough suddenly rang out. Iruka turned his head in its direction… what he saw made his heart sink.
The stationery store owner was standing behind the counter, his eyes brimming with undisguised malice, directed straight at Naruto.
"No chatting in here, leave quickly." The owner's voice was cold and hard, every word laced with disgust.
Iruka's fingertips unconsciously tightened. Was this the rumored attitude of the villagers towards Naruto? The prejudice he had only heard about in the dark was now laid bare before his eyes.
He couldn't help but turn to look at Naruto, but saw no obvious expression on the child's face. He simply walked silently towards the cashier, placing the item he had hidden behind his back on the counter.
"Uncle, how much are these two?"
Iruka leaned closer to see clearly—it was just a notebook with a gold-embossed cover and a piece of dusty clay. That was a common material used by novice ninjas to practice Earth Style, which could be stored in the body to assist in using Earth Style. It was nothing out of the ordinary.
The owner pursed his lips and said nothing.
"Uncle?" Naruto called out softly again.
"Just whatever! Get out of here quickly!" The owner finally burst out, his voice urgent and sharp.
"…I understand." Naruto replied, pulling coins from his pocket, counting out the approximate market price, placing them gently on the counter, then picking up the notebook and clay, and turning to walk towards the door.
Just as he was about to step over the threshold, the owner's lowered but clear voice came from behind him. "…Monster."
Naruto's striding foot clearly paused. Iruka's heart tightened with his, but the child only hesitated for half a second, said nothing, didn't look back, and simply pulled open the door and walked out.
The door creaked shut, and the owner's cursing immediately filled the store. "Such bad luck, why did he have to buy something here? Heaven knows what he'll do next."
With that, he quickly walked to the door, grabbed the salt shaker by the door, and sprinkled a handful on the ground.
(This plot point ends here, and the anger will be returned later, from the perspective of the Leaf Village hero who does not accept kindness or apologies.)
Iruka watched the owner sprinkle salt, feeling as if something was lodged in his chest, making him feel suffocated. So… this is what Naruto faces every day?
That hidden prejudice, now transformed into such blatant malice, was suffocating just to witness.
He no longer had the mind to choose any training ninja tools. He turned and rushed out of the stationery store, his gaze urgently sweeping the street—not far away, Naruto was walking leisurely forward, his steps steady, showing no signs of anything amiss.
"Hey! Naruto! Wait a minute!" Iruka shouted in that direction, quickening his pace.
Naruto turned his head at the sound, stopping to wait for him to approach.
Iruka ran up to him, looked into Naruto's clear eyes, and after a few seconds of silence, spoke, trying to make his tone sound light.
"So… you just bought a notebook and clay? Seriously, these aren't anything to hide. Why did you keep them from Sensei just now?"
Naruto laughed at that. "Iruka Sensei, these aren't just ordinary notebooks and clay, you know… Even though they look unremarkable now, they'll become different very soon."
"Is that so…" Iruka nodded thoughtfully. He raised a hand and pointed to a spot not far away. "Well, it's almost noon, how about we go get a bowl of ramen? My treat."
"Huh? Really?"
"Of course. Sensei can certainly afford to treat you to a bowl of ramen." Iruka smiled and patted his shoulder.
Seeing the concerned smile on Iruka's face, Naruto understood—Iruka was deliberately trying to comfort him.
To be honest, what happened in the store just now was nothing. Ever since he could remember, he had grown accustomed to such looks and words, just like eating and training every day. It had long become an insignificant part of his life; he wasn't hurt by it, nor did he take it to heart.
But at this moment, Iruka's special invitation to ramen, his gentle tone, and the genuine concern in his eyes, completely devoid of perfunctoriness, wrapped around Naruto's heart with a warm embrace.
He couldn't help but grin, flashing a wide smile, and with light steps, he followed Iruka towards Ichiraku Ramen. "Alright, Iruka Sensei, for Uncle Ichiraku's miso ramen, I want double char siu!"
"You rascal."
Iruka was amused by his energetic demeanor and shook his head helplessly. "Alright, alright, double char siu it is. What can I do? I'm your teacher, after all."