Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Some people really don't appreciate a good bowl of ramen, nor just how completely complex in its simplicity it is.

Yes, there are noodles. Yes, it is a soup.

But it's the mix, the sheer options you have when creating a bowl of ramen.

Do you want shark fin? Vegetarian? Beef? Garlic?

Whatever you can dream up, you could probably put into ramen.

And that's what makes it so interesting, so wonderful to cook. The mix is what's important, the whole, not the individual ingredients.

The world is a lot like a ramen bowl. All sorts of people make it up, and that's why its so refreshingly erratic, so spontaneous, at once absolutely joyous and comically tragic.

Jeez, the day must be slower than I thought, if I have time to sit around and think about what ramen all day.

Ah, for the days when this place was bustling with customers. The Yondaime loved my stuff, and people, being people, followed him in, wanting to get in good with the Hokage.

Hey, I'm a businessman, first and foremost. I make my living off of this stuff, and why people come to eat hear is none of my concern.

The day is long and hot, boring and dry. Sheesh, if this keeps up, I might have to start cutting back pay.

My throat feels rather dry, probably from all the heat in the kitchen. I keep it moderately warm at all times, so that I can get the ramen out quicker.

First rule of being in business- speed means more productivity, productivity equals more money.

Its not materialistic. Its trying to make my way in the world. I'm not cut out to be a ninja- but even elite jounin have to eat, and being a quick place to grab a bite is a way of contributing to the village without experiencing life threatening danger.

Sometimes, though, I wonder if I should have at least tried my hand in the academy. Some days, I think that if I could have fought, maybe I could have helped out in the battle against that damnable fox.

I lost my wife and my son in that battle, killed in the crossfire. I barely recognized her body. My son was clinging to life, dirty and bleeding from the mouth as he cried and died in my arms.

Now all I've got left is a shop, my daughter and the ability to make ramen for a few odd customers.

Damn I miss the Yondaime. Kind of annoying sometimes, but a good kid, and an even better customer.

Not that the Sandaime isn't great. But the old man isn't in the habit of dropping down enough money to pay for the bills in one meal.

There's a slight scuffle outside. I wonder if I should put my head out, but really, its none of my business. Voices, indistinct but angry, I can hear though, and suddenly a loud thump is right inside the restaurant.

I poke my out, hoping that its none a bunch of ninja fighting in the streets. That might be rather dangerous.

Fortunately, its just a spiky head of blonde hair and a little waif of a brat. From the looks of him, he's an orphan, with dirty, too short clothes and skin that's covered in scratches and bruises from living in hard times.

Yeah, well, sucks to be him. I feel sorry for the kid, but I don't have time for kids without cash. Ayame would probably be annoyed with me, but that's life.

We can't all be saints.

Then he looked up, and two shining blue eyes stared straight at me for a moment.

I couldn't breath, my chest constricted and I literally thought I was seeing a ghost. Because damn it, I knew I'd been here before.

"What the hell is this place?" another young, blonde, blue eyed kid asked, dirty and unkempt, orphaned and unwanted.

"If you don't got cash, then beat it, kid." My voice seemed deeper then. Stronger.

The kid ignored me, staring defiantly at me as he sniffed the air. "That smells good. What is it?"

"Ramen."

"Well, just you wait. When I become Hokage, I'll buy ramen, and then we'll see whose laughing!" the kid stood up, glaring at me with the most electric blue eyes I've ever seen. There was something special in those eyes- and for just a moment, I believed.

"Stupid assholes... I'll show them!" the kid scowled deeply, accenting the whiskers on his face as he stood up, a fire kindling behind blue eyes.

My first words should have been to tell him to get the hell out.

"What's your name, kid?" I couldn't help myself. Those damn eyes.

The blonde kid looked at me, startled and bewildered as to how he wandered into here. His face twisted into, just for a brief moment, the look of a lost child, out in the cold. Then it was a cold mask of scowling and annoyance. "Uzumaki Naruto." The kid looked at me with stiff expectation.

And he was not to be disappointed.

Shit, if I'd have known that the Kyubi brat would walk into my store, I would have closed early.

"Get out." My voice was cold, though I tried not to show it. I knew the Yondaime wouldn't have wanted this, like Ayame. Like Tomoyo.

But the Yondaime was dead, like my beloved Tomoyo and my son. And the dead don't get a say in things.

The kid looked at me with an angry, irritated look, raising his defenses high and strong. "I didn't want to be in this stupid place anyway! What the hell kind of place is this, anyway?"

"It's a ramen stand. Now get lost." I could see my words weren't meaning jack to this kid. Damn those eyes, damn those eyes that look like my favorite customer.

And damn this kid for being the Kyubi.

Enemy and friend, both in one.

"Ramen huh... I like ramen, but I only ever get the instant stuff." The kid muttered sullenly, and stood, looking down. "Could I try some?" his voice was eager and earnest, those blue eyes wide and hopeful.

For some reason, it pissed me off. "No. I don't give handouts." My voice was tight now, wired like a chord stretched thin.

Instead of crushing him, it only made him worse, and a defiant look crossed his face, and again, I cursed those damn blue eyes. "Fine then. I'll buy some. In fact, when I'm Hokage, I'll buy all the ramen you've got! And then you'll have to serve me!"

I laughed, long and bitter. Unlike last time, I didn't believe him. "Kid, you become Hokage, and you'll never pay for ramen from here again." I laughed again, mocking his dreams and relishing it.

No one's perfect. The Yondaime wasn't immortal. My family was slaughtered.

Instead of dimming, the light in his eyes shone brighter. "I'll hold you to that, old man!" he grinned, and looked me dead in the eyes. There it was, plain as day.

"Because I'm Uzumaki Naruto, and I will be Hokage!"

I got the odd feeling that I was going to be serving him a lot of free meals one day.

Strangely enough, I didn't really mind that idea, if it came from those eyes.

Author's Notes

Since I've never found any characterizations for this character, I'm shooting blind. Still, I hope it worked out alright. Iruka is supposed to be Naruto's first real friend, and thus, I wanted more of an apathetic, or at least less than hostile character in this chapter than the friendly person usually portrayed in fics.

Up next- Iruka.