CHAPTER IV: A GAME OF RYŌ

Naruto's heart thundered in his ear, even above chatter among the streets of Konoha. Hands clammy, chest tight. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so anxious — so scared.

His pranks were one thing: loud and bombastic, getting caught was half the point.

Here, though?

Here, the idea that someone would see through his disguise left him nearly sick with dread.

And, when he wasn't scared that someone would see through his disguise, he was terrified at the mere thought that someone would recognise the dress. It's store-bought, the logical part of his brain said. There's probably thousands like it.

It didn't make him feel any better.

Shoulders hunched, trying to make himself appear as small as possible, Naruto shuffled down the streets, anticipating the moment someone would call him out as the imposter and thief he was.

Yet, it never came.

People talked, of course, but there was not one word about Naruto — about the golden-haired brat always out there causing trouble.

Nobody even looked twice at him, at the girl with an oversized dress, at the girl without any shoes, at the girl with Naruto's face, if older and more feminine. Their eyes just glanced off him like he was a particularly boring piece of the scenery.

Like he was invisible.

Were he not in the middle of the self-proclaimed mission, Naruto would've laughed.

Nobody cared!

He grinned, nearly manic, and had to stop himself from skipping down the streets.

When he finally arrived at the store, he had relaxed, if only a bit. He opened the door, bell chiming, and walked in.

When he wasn't immediately kicked out, he took that as a win.

The clerk was gone.

In his place, a woman with hard lines etched into her face, and hair tied up into a tight, professional bun, salt-and-pepper-grey. She was familiar enough, though Naruto didn't remember her name.

She looked up at the bell's chime, then, just as quickly, turned back to the customer in front of her.

All but invisible.

Almost giddy with excitement, Naruto plucked a carrier from a nearby stand, and began to retrace his steps throughout the store.

It didn't take long to find half of what he did before, all where they sat on display as they had hours previous. The bread, the pickles and the butter, the oil, and the cold-meats, too. Like before, nobody had glanced twice at him.

He passed through the aisles without question.

Of course, it wouldn't be that easy.

About halfway through, Naruto was stopped short.

A man blocked his path, standing right in front of the ramen. In front of the ramen Naruto wanted to buy, staring at the boxes like they were a particularly hard maths test. Then, after a moment, he lazily plucked one of the boxes from the shelf, carefully read over the packaging, then returned it, checking instead one of the individual cups.

Then, he did it again.

And again.

And again.

Occasionally, the man would compare packets, compare their prices, and he seemed to be taking forever.

Naruto just stood there, waiting for him to be finished, but, as the seconds ticked by, he began to get antsy. He wanted to — no, needed to get his ramen, but the man just wouldn't move. Hurry up, you bastard! he grumbled to himself, too afraid to even voice a complaint. Can't you see I'm waiting here?

Apparently not.

He just continued to compare ramen, utterly blind to the world around him.

Excuse me. The words bubbled in the back of his throat, but memories of hours previous forced them back down.

What if he was shoved, again?

What if he got kicked out, again?

What if — ?

But the man wasn't going to move himself. He just muttered to himself, and pulled out his wallet, checking his money, before returning to the ramen, indecision etched into his face.

It was beginning to get ridiculous.

Naruto scowled, patience wearing thin.

He wouldn't be happy until his pantry was properly stocked, until he got the ramen he wanted. The ramen he needed. Yet, he couldn't, because the man was just taking so damn long!

Taking a deep breath, Naruto spoke, crossly: "Excuse me!"

The man started, snapping from his own little world like a rubber-band. "Oh — what — ?" He turned and saw Naruto, face expressing his irritation clear as day. "Oh — oh! Sorry. Sorry, miss."

There was a blush across his cheeks, and Naruto felt like he had been slapped by a fish.

Is he apologising?

"Sorry about that," the man repeated, again. "Get lost in my thoughts, sometimes."

Naruto nodded, half terrified that if he opened his mouth, he'd start laughing hysterically. Or, well, crying. Naruto couldn't remember the last time someone had apologised. Naruto couldn't remember the last time anyone had spoken to him like that.

There was the Old man, but that was different.

"I-it's okay," Naruto said, eventually, and made to grab his ramen and run.

The man had other ideas.

"Hey, where are your — er…" He hesitated, and Naruto looked up at him, quizzically, wondering what the strange look on his face meant. "Oh. Um. If you're looking to, um. If you're looking to save some money, you might want to buy these ones, instead."

He gestured to a box of ramen.

It was from a brand unfamiliar to Naruto, but also more expensive than the cups and boxes he usually got. Naruto said as much.

"Yeah," replied the man, "but if you look here — "

"Oh! Sorry, um. I don't mean to pry; I was just going to say — um. If you're looking to save some money, don't worry about the ramen. Just get the generic noodles."

"But those cups always taste so bland," Naruto couldn't help but whine. They were cheap, yes, but there was something primal deep in Naruto's chest that ranked under bland noodles with only a pack of flavouring to go with it.

It's like eating cardboard with chicken salt!

"Sure," agreed the man, "but with a few cheap ingredients, you could make them taste better than the name-brands."

That caught Naruto's attention, though he could already see the issue: "Wouldn't that just cost me more ryō?"

The man shrugged. "Well, yeah, initially. But, if you spend smartly, you could probably get it more for less, or at about even. Plus, the ingredients will last longer than the noodles themselves, and you'll probably wind up using most of it for other meals.'

"It's like this." Suddenly Naruto felt like he was at the Academy, listening to his instructors drone on about something-or-other. "The ramen can go from anywhere between seventy ryō to a hundred for a five-pack. Noodles go for about twenty, usually."

Eighteen, Naruto mentally corrected, glancing down at the generic box of noodles.

"Last I checked," he continued, "spring onions cost about… twenty-five ryō? Eggs about fifty, and dried mushrooms about forty. Chuck in another forty for some soy sauce, and ten for the cheapest lemon juice… chuck in maybe a leg of ham — "

Naruto gaped, suddenly staring at the man like he had two heads. A whole leg of ham? Is this guy crazy?

" — for two-hundred-and-twenty-five, and a chicken, too, for one-thirty ryō — "

"I'm not made of money!" Naruto suddenly snapped.

"Well, it's not like you're not already buying most of that," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, gesturing to Naruto's carrier.

Naruto had no answer to that. The man was right, and Naruto wasn't even sure what to think. Numbers floundered in his head, alongside groceries of all sorts. Then, like oil catching a spark, Naruto's temper flared. "Wait. You mean I've been getting ripped off?"

The man laughed, a sound so friendly and filled with life that Naruto wanted to bottle up and keep forever. "No, not really. I guess you just gotta be a bit smarter about it, is all."

Are you saying I'm not smart!? The words burned on Naruto's tongue, leaving his face flushed hot, but he swallowed them, and accepted the advice. "Well. Thank you."

"No problem," the man said, and smiled brightly. "The names Takeshi, by the by."

Naruto nodded, and there was a brief lull where Takeshi had stared expectantly. The realisation came a second later. Oh, is he waiting for my name — ? Oh, shit! He's waiting for my name!

Stomach flipping, Naruto panicked. What do I say? What do I tell him? He couldn't just use his real name; the mission would fail! But Takeshi was waiting, and Naruto didn't want to ruin everything by being rude. So, he said the first name that came to mind: "Ayame," he answered. Ayame, the daughter of Teuchi, the owner of Ichiraku, and an all-round good person in Naruto's book. I hope she doesn't mind me stealing it.

"A beautiful name," Takeshi said, smiling again.

Naruto flushed.

"Thank you," he mumbled, and took two boxes of the ramen Takeshi had recommended. There was a brief pause, a lull in the conversation, and Naruto took that moment to leave. "I got more stuff to get, though. So, good-bye!"

"Oh, um. Yeah." Takeshi scratched the back of his head and nodded. "Well, um — wait!"

Naruto froze mid-step, already well on his way to leave. "Yeah?"

"I — um." He hesitated, looking at the ground. "Would you mind if I joined you?"

"Why?" The word left Naruto's mouth before he even knew what he was saying, but he wasn't embarrassed. Why? It was a genuine question. Why would he want to join?

"I got nothing better to do," said Takeshi. "Plus, I can help you out with savin' money and all that."

"Oh, really!" Naruto wouldn't lie, saving money was a very good motivator. "Sure!"

What followed was one of the most surreal experiences of Naruto's life (so far). Takeshi had escorted him throughout the store, giving him advice on what to buy, and how to save money while also getting enough food for the fortnight. A bulk bag of rice sat in his pack, alongside various little bits and pieces Takeshi had recommended here and there.

And all the while, he chatted Naruto's ear off. Honestly, it was almost exhausting. Naruto had never had anyone talk for him as long as Takeshi did. He talked about his life, his studies to get an engineering degree, and his dream to give back to his village through innovation and invention. A lot of what he talked about was, well… Naruto didn't understand a lot of it.

There were a few times Takeshi asked about him, and Naruto found himself floundering for answers. Most of the time, he fumbled a deflection. "I don't have a job at the moment," sounded like something an adult would say. "I'm not sure what job I want."

It was easy, even if it left Naruto's stomach rippling with nerves.

Then, Takeshi asked a question that caught Naruto up short: "How long have you been living alone?"

Naruto had said nothing of the sort.

Did he see through my disguise? The question echoed through his head with the unnerving clearness of a raven crying in the night. Skin prickling, stomach flipping, Naruto wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball, tighter and tighter until he disappeared entirely.

"What do you mean?" His voice came out little more than a mumble, but Takeshi had heard well enough.

Strangely enough, Takeshi looked chastised, grimacing as he scratched his cheek. "Sorry, it's just that — well, um. No offence, but you kinda got that vibe."

He had glanced down at Naruto's feet, and Naruto felt his face heat up, embarrassed yet partially relieved. Thank the Hokage, maybe he didn't realise — ? Still, Naruto had to reply. "Um. Well. I've been living alone for a while now."

"Kicked out of home?" Takeshi guessed, and now Naruto was baffled.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, the shoes," he said, off hand. "And the dress."

It took a second for Naruto to digest that. "I guess," came his eventual answer.

It wasn't true, but that was the point, wasn't it?

After a moment of silence, where they had walked down the dairy aisle together, Takeshi had found his voice again, sharing insight about milk, and about always checking the expiration date.

What's an expiration date? Naruto had wanted to ask but didn't. He wanted to know, but the way Takeshi had given his advice made Naruto feel stupid for not knowing.

Naruto hated feeling stupid.

Regardless, he did as advised, taking the right kind of milk, and by then they were pretty much done.

On top of the milk, there was now some fruit in his carrier, along with some cereal, and the drinks and snacks that had gotten him kicked out hours before.

Takeshi didn't leave it there, however.

"Did you need help taking it all back home?" he had asked.

Yes, Naruto was about to answer, but then Takeshi's question was processed fully.

Do you need help taking it all back home?

There was a lot. Takeshi was currently carrying some of it, because the carrier Naruto had was overfilled. So, yes, Naruto would like some help getting it all back home. He could do it himself, of course, but he was never a fan of the plastic bags biting into his fingers.

Naruto shook his head. "No. I can get back home, myself."

Takeshi hesitated, then nodded his head, and smiled. "Then this is goodbye, then!"

He put down his own carrier, taking out the few groceries he had stowed away, and then handed the carrier to Naruto. "Here. I'll go get another one later."

"Thanks," said Naruto, and took the carrier. "Enjoy your shopping."

"Yeah, I will. See you around, Ayame."

And with that, they went their separate ways.

As he walked, Naruto couldn't help but smile, a light, bubbling feeling growing in his chest.

The whole thing had been surreal, but… fun. He couldn't remember ever having talked to someone for as long as he did with Takeshi, and he felt tired, too.

Arriving at the check-out, he found himself waiting in line. How boring. He sat the carriers down on the ground, and waited and waited, briefly peeking around to see if he might see Takeshi again.

He didn't.

When it was finally his turn, the clerk had taken his things and scanned them without issue, and Naruto felt his grin return.

Vivid memories of the clerks glaring at him whenever he came up to pay, acting like they were burdened by his mere presence. Now, the woman just looked bored. She scanned the items, bagged them in plastic, and asked for the money.

Naruto, hesitating only when he realised that his name was written across Gama-chan's belly, did as requested.

Then, it was done. "Thank you, enjoy your day."

Naruto smiled brightly in answer. "You, too!"

With that, he left, grinning ear to ear as he lugged his plastic bags home, bulging with groceries and biting into the skin of his fingers. It was such a simple thing, a trip to the shops, yet here was the first time he had done so without feeling like he was walking on thin ice, one screw up from being thrown out.

A fairly literal feeling after the events hours ago.

It was exciting!

Though the bags weighed him down, Naruto had returned home with a skip in his step, chucking the groceries onto his dining table and going about dismissing his Centrefold.

With a flash of chakra residue, he was back to his normal self: short and shirtless. After amending the latter, he went about putting away his groceries, filling his fridge and stocking his pantry. When he was done, he took out an apple, shined it on his shirt, and flopped onto his bed, content.

The mission had been a complete success!

Nobody had cared that he was Naruto, and he had infiltrated the convenience store without issue. Oh, sure, it'd be better if he had shoes — he was sure someone had been giving him odd looks about them — but even then it had gone perfectly.

And then there was Takeshi. Naruto's heart warmed at the thought. It was one thing for the Old Man to be kind. He was the Hokage! Takeshi had no reason to be kind, but he was. He had helped Naruto out with his shopping. He showed Naruto how to save money. He had talked with Naruto, like he was a friend.

He had talked and talked, and Naruto had listened, and he was just so happy.

He wanted to see Takeshi again. Maybe they could be friends? Naruto wanted to be Shinobi, but he would be lying if he said that engineering hadn't interested him.

Except, then Naruto would have to find Takeshi. Naruto would have to find him. And then he'd have to transform into Ayame. He'd have to be Ayame.

It was amazing how quickly all the joy evaporated in that moment, with that one realisation.

Takeshi wasn't Naruto's friend.

He liked Ayame, not Naruto.

Everyone had liked Ayame. Well, no. They tolerated Ayame. They treated her like everyone else in the village. Everyone but Naruto. Ayame, not Naruto, had walked into the store and nobody had batted an eye. Nobody stared at Ayame. Nobody had shoved her aside, just for trying to squeeze past.

Nobody had even commented on her lack of shoes, even if they looked at her oddly.

They didn't care because I wasn't Naruto. Before, he had thought he knew his place in the village. Now? Now he understood.

He understood because, at that moment, Naruto hated himself just as much as the village did.