Chapter 7

"Come on, have a drink!"

"Cheers!"

"After eating so much ramen, I still can't get enough of it!"

"Hahaha, as long as you enjoy it, that's what matters!"

As Naruto approached Ichiraku Ramen, he could hear the lively chatter and laughter from inside. The shop was clearly bustling with activity.

He paused at the entrance, adjusting his smile to make it as perfect and elegant as possible. Pushing the door open, he was greeted by the warm aroma of ramen and the cozy atmosphere of the small shop.

The moment he stepped inside, the lively chatter faltered for a brief second before resuming as if nothing had happened. The customers continued their conversations, pretending not to notice Naruto's presence.

They all knew the unspoken rule of Ichiraku Ramen: Teuchi, the owner, treated all customers equally. Once, a customer had refused to eat in the same shop as the "Nine-Tails demon fox" and tried to force Naruto out. Teuchi had promptly kicked the man out instead. Since then, venting dissatisfaction with other guests had been strictly forbidden.

"Uncle, I'm here for some ramen," Naruto said with a polite nod and a warm smile.

"Naruto! I've been working on a new recipe. Want to give it a try?" Teuchi grinned, his enthusiasm infectious.

"Uncle, your ramen is already the best in Konoha. If you keep improving, my wallet won't be able to keep up," Naruto replied with a light chuckle, taking a seat in the most secluded corner of the shop.

"Hahaha, you've got a way with words. Today, I'll show you something special," Teuchi said, his fighting spirit ignited.

As Naruto waited for his ramen, he discreetly observed the other customers. His gaze lingered on a particularly unusual ninja.

The man had long white hair, a black mask covering most of his face, and a forehead protector tilted to cover one eye. His exposed eye had a lifeless, dead-fish quality to it, yet there was an undeniable air of mastery about him.

But one thing puzzled Naruto: How does he eat ramen with that mask on?

As if sensing Naruto's gaze, the white-haired ninja glanced over, their eyes meeting briefly. For a moment, Naruto thought he saw a flicker of emotion in the man's otherwise calm eyes—something complicated, almost like guilt.

Was I imagining that? Naruto frowned.

Realizing it was impolite to stare, Naruto nodded apologetically and looked away, though his curiosity about the white-haired ninja lingered.

Kakashi Hatake lowered his gaze, his appetite suddenly gone.

He was a student of Namikaze Minato, Naruto's father. Minato had taken him under his wing, teaching him everything he knew. But with Minato's death, along with the loss of his own father and friends, Kakashi had fallen into a deep, numbing despair.

He was well aware of the unfair treatment Naruto endured in the village. But as a mere elite jonin, he felt powerless to intervene. Over the years, he had thrown himself into missions, trying to drown his guilt in work. Yet every time he saw Naruto, the weight of his inaction bore down on him.

'The teacher's son is suffering, and I've done nothing to help.'

Kakashi took a deep breath, his lips trembling slightly beneath his mask.

Naruto, oblivious to Kakashi's inner turmoil, focused on his ramen. He clasped his hands together and whispered, "Thank you for the meal."

He leaned in, savoring the rich aroma of the broth before taking a sip. The flavor was deep and satisfying. Next, he bit into the tender chashu pork, which practically melted in his mouth.

"It's delicious!" Naruto exclaimed, momentarily forgetting his usual elegance as he devoured the bowl with gusto.

Teuchi beamed with pride. Seeing Naruto enjoy his food so thoroughly was the highest compliment he could receive.

After leaving Ichiraku Ramen, Naruto felt a sense of contentment. But his moment of peace was short-lived.

"Now that you've filled your stomach, it's time to begin today's training," Aizen's calm voice echoed in his mind.

"Training? Can I start already?" Naruto's excitement was palpable.

Aizen chuckled softly. "I hope you maintain this enthusiasm in the future."

Naruto made his way to the most secluded part of the training ground, warming up as Aizen explained the basics.

"Now that you've awakened your Reiatsu and obtained a Zanpakutō, you are, in essence, a Shinigami—or at least something close to it," Aizen said, pausing briefly. The image of Naruto's red-and-white spirit ribbon flashed in his mind. Even he wasn't entirely sure what Naruto was—human, Shinigami, or perhaps both.

"A Shinigami's combat techniques are divided into four main categories: Zanjutsu (swordsmanship), Hakuda (hand-to-hand combat), Shunpo (high-speed movement), and Kidō (spells)."

"Zanjutsu focuses on sword techniques, while Hakuda is unarmed combat. Shunpo allows you to move at incredible speeds, creating the illusion of teleportation. Kidō is divided into three types: Hadō (destructive spells), Bakudō (binding spells), and Kaidō (healing spells). However, Shunpo and Kidō are too advanced for you at this stage."

Naruto listened intently, committing every word to memory.

"Understood. It's a lot to take in, but I'll master it all. I'll work hard," Naruto vowed.

"Good. But before you can master these techniques, you need to build a solid foundation. Start by improving your physical strength and stamina. Run three laps around the training ground."

Naruto's eyes widened. The training ground's perimeter was roughly ten kilometers. Three laps would be grueling.

"What? Are you scared?" Aizen teased.

"Scared? Not a chance! I'll do it!" Naruto gritted his teeth and began jogging along the edge of the training ground.

"Success doesn't come overnight. Talent is meaningless without effort. Today is just the beginning. In the future, you'll add sword training and more to your routine. Don't worry—it'll only get tougher from here," Aizen said, his tone almost too casual for the intensity of his words.

As Naruto ran, Aizen opened a book and began reading, his expression calm.

In his pursuit of power, Aizen had endured unimaginable training. He had swung his sword ten thousand times in a single day, all to overthrow the corrupt Soul Society. He knew better than anyone that talent alone was worthless without relentless effort.

But there was one thing he didn't tell Naruto.

"Countless Shinigami have worked as hard as I did. They believed talent and time would make them the strongest. But in the end, they were nothing more than pawns to me," Aizen murmured to himself, a cold smile playing on his lips.

"Uzumaki Naruto, I hope you don't disappoint me. Add some excitement to my otherwise dull existence."