Of Ramen and Wooden Skates

Irashai

Orochimaru-kun was an enthusiastic employee as he could ever be. During the first two weeks of his employment, I often opened the shop to find him already outside, waiting. It didn't help that it was starting to snow. I asked him inside and told him he shouldn't arrive so early; he might get a bad bout of flu due to the cold. He only looked at me as if I were mad, but still continued on his routine anyway. And then I grew tired of scolding him and let him open the store for me, giving him the duplicate keys.

I often woke up with every pre-opening chore already done. Orochimaru-kun mopped the floors until they shone, wiped the tables free of dust and even changed the curtains at one time, maintaining that it was already dirty. I asked him if he had breakfast before going to me, and he said he did. But there were times he came to me with a rumbling stomach. I was far from being such a ruthless employer that I wouldn't even care whether he had eaten his morning fill or not. During those days I took him aside before officially opening and supplied him with the first ramen for that day. He didn't exactly say thank you, but the glimmer in his golden eyes were enough for me. And the way he smiled at me. I thought, where were his parents? His mother, especially. I asked him this, and I was surprised by the way he answered me.

"They're dead." He said bluntly. Too blunt for a thirteen-year-old like him. However I realized this was a taboo, so I never mentioned it again.

I noticed that Orochimaru-kun rarely smiled – nor spoke for that matter. I took him aside one day and gave him an apron – his golden eyes grew wide in horror as he saw that the apron was pink and I apologized for not having anything else – and told him that if we both wanted this business to flourish, he should be more cordial to the customers. I told him that there was nothing wrong if he could smile, and that his hair would very likely get in his way.

That was when he did start to smile and tie his hair into a ponytail every time he was in the shop.

"Ichiraku Irashai!"

This was the phrase Orochimaru-kun uttered with all the cheerfulness he could muster every time customers went through our wooden door. Shinobi customers were often gaping openly when they found him there, clutching a small piece of paper and pen in hand, ready to take their orders. Apparently they did not expect an esteemed student of Hokage such as Orochimaru to work in a ramen stand. Orochimaru ignored their stupefied looks and gaping jaws as if they never existed and waited for their order patiently, quietly.

"Hai, dozo...miso ramen and black tea for you!"

And the customers would still gape at him even though he had already left.

"Popular, aren't you, Orochimaru-kun?" I joked one day as he entered the inner kitchen to help me with the dishes.

He only glowered at the sponge he held as a response. I laughed. I grew to love and understand my only helper's silence because most of the time, it was the only way he actually spoke to me. His little glances, smiles and glares contained a myriad of information that wasn't so hard to understand once you got the hang of it.

Having the Hokage's favorite student at my ramen stand soon had its advantages. More people eventually came, and we were very happy. I increased Orochimaru-kun's salary to 350 ryo. He didn't say thank you when I handed him the customary brown envelope, but the way he clutched his hard work's fruit was proof enough. He tucked it very carefully into his yukata and bowed deeply to me – so deep in fact that I glimpsed the back of his neck. I told him gently it was nothing and that he deserved it.

There were days he failed to turn up. I understood that. But usually he came round at lunch time, panting very hard. From training, I mused, I told him to rest before wearing his apron but he only gave me his no-nonsense look and went to work anyway. If there was a mission on the morrow he never failed to inform me.

However, Orochimaru-kun was too ruthless sometimes. In business you could never evade circumstances like customers ditching their bills...playful Genins trying to get away with a free bowl while your back's turned...those sorts of things. Orochimaru-kun was sharp. I remembered him chasing a Jounin who so dared to skip his bill...

"Hey you! Hey! Pay up!"

"Bug off, kid! I'm not paying for rubbish!"

Orochimaru-kun's golden eyes flashed, and I suddenly grew afraid that he might throw a kunai or something – but he did throw the round tray he was holding. The tray spun around in midair before slamming with a satisfactory crunch at the back of the insolent Jounin's head, knocking him out instantly. Orochimaru-kun bent over the fallen Shinobi and took the payment from his wallet before going back to the stand.

I knew Orochimaru-kun was trying very hard to be cheerful. But there were times when his perpetual rudeness got the better of him.

"What? Is there a bug on my face?"

"If you're not going to buy anything, take your stupid fat ass off that chair for other customers."

"We're a ramen stand. Not a takoyaki stand. You dumb or what?"

"I. Am. Not. A. Woman."

"Get lost, jerk. If you don't have any money to pay for your meal, I suggest leaving. And now."

"You have three seconds to let go of my butt before I kill you."

However, I did not have to be the referee in any of these countless circumstances. Orochimaru-kun (thankfully) knew very well how to keep his temper under wraps.

"Ichiraku Irashai!"

Ayame-chan is the one saying this phrase now, but I can never rid my memory of the second person ever to say it, with his tempered tone and slightly hissing accent.

"Ichiraku Irashai!"