Oddly, Iruka treated Naruto to ramen that night.
Naruto didn't question it. Free food was free food. He sat at the counter, feet kicking idly against the stool, inhaling the scent of rich broth and fresh noodles. The steam curled into the air as Teuchi slid the first bowl toward him, and Naruto dug in without hesitation.
Across from him, Iruka sat stiffly, his chopsticks in hand but barely touching his food. His shoulder was bandaged now, but Naruto could still smell the faint traces of blood beneath the scent of ramen.
Ayame leaned on the counter, talking to Iruka in a different tone than usual, her voice softer, almost playful.
Iruka's reaction was... strange. His pulse picked up, face turning red, eyes darting away awkwardly.
Naruto blinked. Why was he reacting like that? His scent changed, too—something warm, flustered. His heart was beating faster than usual.
Ah. Mating call. Just like animals.
Naruto swallowed a mouthful of noodles. "Are you going to mate, Iruka-sensei? Ayame-nee-chan?"
Iruka choked so violently that he nearly flipped the stool over, coughing into his sleeve. Ayame went beet red, her hands flying up to wave frantically. Teuchi burst out laughing from the kitchen, his deep chuckles shaking the air.
"Naruto!" Iruka wheezed.
Naruto shrugged, stuffing more noodles into his mouth. "What?"
Ayame groaned, covering her face. "You don't just ask people that, Naruto!"
"Why not? It's normal," he said around a mouthful of broth. "Animals do it all the time."
Iruka pressed his fingers against his temple. "Humans are not animals."
Naruto stared at him. Then at Ayame. Then back at his ramen. "Hmm." He slurped up another mouthful, piling up empty bowls as quickly as Teuchi could refill them.
Iruka sighed but let it go. After a moment, he rested his elbow on the counter, looking at Naruto thoughtfully.
"So, Naruto," he said, "what's your dream?"
Naruto paused mid-bite.
A dream?
He'd never really thought about it before. He chewed slowly, letting the question settle in his mind.
Did he have a dream?
He wanted to survive. That was the whole reason he became a shinobi in the first place. To survive in a village that hated him. To stay strong enough that no one could ever hurt him. But a dream?
His fingers curled around his chopsticks.
The villagers treated him like a shadow, a ghost that haunted the streets. They looked through him, past him, like he wasn't there. Even when they sneered, even when they whispered, it was like they were talking about something distant, something unreal.
"I..." He hesitated. The words felt strange in his mouth. "I want people to see me. Dattebane."
Iruka nodded, considering. "You want to be famous?"
Famous?
Naruto frowned. Like what? A writer? A playwright? A painter? But he was a shinobi. Shinobi didn't write books or paint pictures.
"The only way a ninja becomes famous," Iruka continued, "is by becoming a famous ninja."
Naruto tilted his head. "Are you a famous ninja, sensei?"
"Uh... um." Iruka coughed into his fist. "No. But that's my point! The most well-known ninja in the village is its Kage. For Konoha, that's the Hokage."
Naruto thought about that.
Hashirama Senju was Hokage. People remembered him.
Tobirama Senju was Hokage. People still talked about him.
Hiruzen, the old man, was Hokage. He was famous.
His father... His father was Hokage. The whole village spoke of the Fourth in reverence, in awe.
Naruto clenched his chopsticks.
"Then I'll become the next Hokage."
Iruka blinked. Then he smiled, ruffling Naruto's red hair. "I'm sure you'll be a great one. Popular too."
Naruto didn't pull away. Didn't move.
Iruka's hand was warm.
And for the first time, Naruto thought maybe—he could believe it.