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The story branches here; let us follow each in turn.
After leaving Naruto's house, the group talked it over and decided on Ichiraku Ramen. They had already hit the barbecue earlier in the day to celebrate their return—Asuma had gone to settle Kurenai, and Kakashi was stuck in a long debriefing, so only the rookies had initially feasted.
The evening sun stretched their shadows into long, thin lines on the pavement.
"Yo, Naruto!"
Asuma was walking toward them, a grocery bag in one hand and his signature cigarette in the other. The moment his gaze landed on Hanabi, he performed a practiced maneuver: plucking the cigarette from his lips and grinding it into the dirt with his heel before the little Hyuga could even sniff the smoke.
"Heading out with friends?" he chuckled, pulling his wallet from his flak jacket. "I promised you a treat, but Kurenai still needs me. Go on—my treat."
Naruto tried to wave the money away, but Asuma shoved it into his hands. "Take it. Ino and Hinata just finished a hell of a mission. They deserve to unwind, and I'm rooting for you, kid." He gave Naruto a heavy, encouraging clap on the shoulder and a wink that said don't mess this up before strolling away.
Around the corner, three small heads popped out from behind a wooden fence like meerkats.
"Boss, look!" Udon whispered, his glasses slipping down his nose. "Lord Asuma is being so polite to that blond guy! If Uncle Asuma likes him, he must be a legend!"
Moegi shook her twin tails. "Uncle Asuma is just nice to everyone! Remember the candy money he gave us?"
Konohamaru folded his arms, pouting. Grandpa was always comparing him to "that Naruto kid." He's just a Genin! By the time I'm his age, I'll be the Hokage! "Konohamaru Corps—move out!" he hissed. "Mission objective: Observe Uzumaki Naruto. Let's see if he's actually half as great as Grandpa says."
Naruto was blissfully unaware of the pint-sized stalkers, but he was fretting over the evening's logistics. With the Hokage and two Clan Heads essentially occupying his apartment for a drinking session, he couldn't exactly go home.
Where do I take them after we eat? He glanced at his companions. Konoha was vibrant, but it lacked kid-friendly hangouts. It wasn't the Boruto era; there were no burger joints or lightning-fast trains. It was either training fields or places far too "adult" for Genin.
At Ichiraku, Teuchi greeted them with a warm steam-filled welcome.
"Missions keeping you busy, Naruto?"
"Yeah, something like that," Naruto replied, keeping it vague.
They placed their orders—a mountain of tonkotsu and miso. As the bowls arrived, Naruto, Ino, and Hinata all froze. They were elite sensors in their own right, and the amateurs tailing them were about as subtle as a stampeding Akamaru.
"Let's eat," Ino said, pressing her palms together. Under the guise of a pre-meal prayer, she initiated the Mind Transfer Jutsu.
"You felt them too?" Ino's voice echoed in their shared mental space.
"Seven o'clock, alley mouth," Hinata's thought followed, her Byakugan flaring almost imperceptibly under her bangs. "Wait... it's just three kids. Six or seven years old."
Naruto's mental voice was calm. "Ignore them. It's Konohamaru and his crew. Sandaime's grandson is probably trying to see what the hype is about."
The tension vanished. Ino smiled and slipped a slice of Narutomaki into Naruto's bowl. "Try this—the broth is especially rich today."
"Big brother Naruto, try Hanabi's too!" The little girl hopped up, stretching her chopsticks. She was too short to reach past the others, and the fish cake wobbled dangerously in the air. Naruto quickly slid his bowl over to catch it. "Thanks, Hanabi!"
Hinata watched them, a soft blush dusting her cheeks. She lifted her own Narutomaki, her mind drifting back years. She remembered a younger version of herself, egged on by a toddler Hanabi, clutching a bunch of bright yellow sunflowers (Himawari).
She had practically shoved them at Naruto, her heart hammering so hard she thought it would burst. "N-Naruto-kun... these are for you..."
Naruto had touched the petals and given her that brilliant, sun-drenched grin. "Sunflowers? Thanks—I love them!" That image was etched into her soul—the way the light caught his hair and the sincerity in his voice.
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