"This is Ichiraku?" Neji asked, puzzlement in his voice. Naru nodded, grinning.
"Yup! It's the best ramen you'll find in the village, c'mon!" Like a child tugging a parent to see a new toy, Naru half-dragged him to a stool.
Neji looked on the place in a mixture of half awe and half curiosity. Had he really never noticed this place before, never seen the blonde hurricane rushing to it like it was a fountain of manna? Had he never noticed the absolute joy on her face when she spoke of it, how her eyes seem to shine at the word?
Perhaps he was digressing.
"Ichiraku-jiji, Ayame nee-san, this is Neji. He'd like to try some ramen!" Neji flushed, bowing slightly. "Douzo yoru shiku." The old man looked at him with a hint of speculation and-was that amusement?-In his eye. He and his daughter exchanged looks.
Suspicious.
Somehow he had a feeling that not even his Byakugan would be able to decipher it.
While Ayame began to chatter with the enthusiastic blonde, the old man turned to him. "Now boy, ramen's not just the twigs you buy in a cup," He said sternly, looking repulsed at the very idea of it. "It's a delicacy, an art form…"1 Wide-eyed, Neji nodded, not wanting to insult the old man in the slightest.
Between the proprietor's lectures and interjections from both Naru and Ayame, Neji's head spun. The differences between ramen and soumen, the process of making it, the different kinds of noodles out there, kamaboko, Naru's favorite, something about why she liked being called Naru-
"As compliments of Ichiraku, the Uzumaki special, Hyuuga-san!" Ayame placed a steaming bowl of noodle soup with pink kamaboko in it, the pink spiraling seeming to echo his thought pattern. Naru handed him chopsticks. "Itadakimasu!" She said cheerfully. Neji picked up the chopsticks and pausing, took a look at the fish cake slices in it again.
Pink swirls…wasn't that familiar?
Not the pink but the swirls.
Why did they remind him of Naru? What was it, that name she used to go under?
Naruto.
Naruto, that city famous for…
The kamaboko.
Swirls.
The girl who loved them.
Naru.
Somehow eating this dish seemed quite personal. He didn't why, he half-wanted to laugh at himself for his seriousness but somehow he couldn't.
How could he?
He took up his chopsticks and slurped up the broth through the noodles. A bite of kamaboko came up with it.
It was salty like tears.
Familiar like what home was supposed to be, should have been.
Flavorful and unpredictable somehow.
He wanted more.
Neji blushed embarrassedly when he realized he'd drained it. "Domo arigato gozaimasu," He cringed at the owner and his daughter's knowing expressions. "Thank you for bringing me to Ichiraku's, Uzumaki-san. Perhaps we'll talk another time." He smiled, an uncharacteristic-warmth? Familiarity? What was it?-in it. Naru's eyebrows furrowed as she pondered it. She finally gave up and ran off in the opposite direction, cursing boys and mysteries under her breath.
Ichiraku-jiji smiled. "He'll be back, and not just for good ramen either. He's a fine young man, did you see how polite he was? And he paid attention to all that waffle I threw at him too. There's not many like him that's for sure." He noticed his daughter frowning. "What's wrong, Aya-chan?"
"I think something's either terribly wrong or Hyuuga-san is a lucky man."
The old man wrinkled his brow. "How do you come to that conclusion, daughter?"
"She didn't order anything."
"Who, Naru?"
"Yes, Chichi." Ichiraku's eyes widened.
"Get your jacket, we're paying Iruka a visit."
1 After tasting a few varieties and reading about ramen (like the good geek I am), I'm totally inclined to agree. Besides the cup ramen I find never have the good stuff. Not in American supermarkets anyway.