Naruto: Starting by Reading Minds in Naruto

 

Ten more days passed.

Tonbo’s perception of natural energy became steadily clearer. He still refused to absorb it or begin an active experiment. His chakra did not yet feel substantial enough to control the balance safely.

Sensing it required less risk. Tonbo’s mental strength made meditation simple, and the altered enzyme gave that concentration something new to find in the world around him.

The surrounding energy grew easier to distinguish each day. It did not resemble chakra emitted by a person. It pressed from every direction at once, vast enough that measuring its edge made no sense. Tonbo observed without pulling any of it into himself.

Sakura and Ino improved just as visibly.

Their training spheres now produced a smooth melody as chakra flowed through their hands. Notes rose and fell without the violent changes that had filled the first lessons. Both girls possessed the spiritual talent needed for fine control.

Sakura maintained pitch through long passages. Ino recovered from transitions without allowing annoyance to change the next note. Ten days of competition had converted the thick score from an insult into a sequence they could genuinely play.

Tonbo allowed himself the satisfaction of a teacher who intended to claim credit for excellent students.

Then an unfamiliar presence entered his senses.

The chakra resembled Sasuke’s and yet differed in age, damage, and density.

Tonbo stopped smiling. He refined chakra and extended his perception across the training ground, streets, shops, and crowds. The trail ended near Naruto’s apartment.

A blond boy in a black jacket stared up at the building beside a tall man in a traveling cloak.

”Uncle Sasuke, is this where Dad used to live?”

Adult Sasuke studied the room and the neighborhood with a nostalgia he could not show to anyone from this era.

”Yes.”

Boruto looked around. ”We really traveled into the past. Where did Urashiki go?”

The time-traveling treasure, Karasuki, had separated from them, and Ōtsutsuki Urashiki had vanished as well.

Their pursuit had begun in the future, where Urashiki sought the chakra of the Nine-Tails. Karasuki carried them across time but offered no guarantee that all travelers would arrive together. Somewhere in this era, an Ōtsutsuki might already be hunting the younger Naruto.

”I do not know,” Sasuke said. ”We gather information first.”

If they had arrived too early, Urashiki’s attack upon Naruto could devastate Konoha and alter the future that produced both travelers. Every action they took carried the same danger.

Sasuke wanted first to establish the year, learn Naruto’s location, and discover whether Urashiki had appeared. Meeting his younger self or anyone close to Team Seven could change choices that once seemed inevitable. Boruto’s open curiosity made that restraint difficult.

Boruto’s caution lasted until curiosity won.

”I want to see old Konoha.”

He ran toward the busier streets. Sasuke sighed and followed.

They reached Ichiraku.

Boruto ate his first mouthful with immediate happiness. ”It still tastes authentic.”

The shop looked ancient beside the Ichiraku he knew. Its signs, counter, and tools belonged to stories from Naruto’s youth.

The difference fascinated him because the ramen did not. Broth, noodles, and the warmth of the counter matched the shop from his own childhood, while every object used to prepare them came from decades earlier.

”The equipment is old, but the atmosphere feels different,” he told Sasuke.

Teuchi heard him and bristled.

”Old? Everything here is the latest equipment available. Do not speak about what you do not understand.”

He pointed to the temperature regulator beneath the stockpot.

”That came from the House of Food in the Land of Lightning. It maintains heat more accurately than anything before it. A child may be ignorant, but the adult with him should teach him not to say whatever enters his head.”

Teuchi trusted Tonbo’s judgment on the purchase. Ichiraku now operated branches across the Land of Fire, and the original shop used equipment chosen to maintain the same quality through the busiest service. Boruto had called the most advanced kitchen Teuchi had owned an antique.

Sasuke gave an awkward laugh. ”I apologize, Uncle Teuchi. I failed to teach him.”

Teuchi narrowed his eyes. ”You know me? I do not remember seeing you.”

”You were probably busy and forgot.”

Boruto understood that judging the past by future equipment had been foolish.

”I spoke badly,” he admitted. ”I’m sorry.”

The apology satisfied Teuchi enough to return to the bowls. Boruto looked around again, this time searching for something he remembered without commenting on its age.

”Sorry,” he said. Then he looked at the bare wall. ”Do you have an eating contest?”

Teuchi had never heard of one.

”Customers compete by how many bowls they can eat. You place the records on the wall for everyone to admire.”

In Boruto’s time, the board included a record held by his mother. He almost said so before remembering that Hinata had not yet earned it and might currently be somewhere inside the Chūnin Examination.

”Boruto, stop talking nonsense,” Sasuke said.

Ayame emerged from the kitchen in time to hear the idea. ”It sounds like a good promotion.”

She imagined customers challenging one another between the chain locations and saw how easily a blank wall could become a reason to return. Boruto had introduced a tradition from his own childhood before Sasuke could silence him.

Then she looked more closely at both travelers.

”Have I seen you before?”

Sasuke remembered meals at this counter during his time under Kakashi. Ayame’s intuition made the disguise feel far thinner than it was.

He had aged, lost an arm, and crossed years that Ayame could not imagine. Familiar posture and speech survived those changes. Remaining seated gave her more time to assemble them.

Her attention shifted to Boruto’s blond hair, cheek marks, and face.

”I know. You look like Naruto. He is not as handsome, but the resemblance is remarkable.”

Boruto’s eyes widened. ”Aunt—”

Sasuke covered his mouth.

”A coincidence. We have finished, so we should go.”

Boruto tried to protest through the hand. Sasuke read the next word in his eyes and refused to let him say it. Explaining why the boy called Ayame an aunt would create a problem far greater than an abrupt departure.

He swallowed the last of his ramen, seized Boruto, and hurried from the shop before the boy revealed more.

Teuchi looked at the counter. One bowl remained unfinished. Neither customer had paid.

Sasuke had reacted to the risk of disclosure before checking the table. Boruto’s bowl still held noodles, and the coins they carried belonged to a future mint in any case. The effort to avoid one trace had produced two simpler offenses.

”You brats!”

He charged outside. ”You wasted ramen and ran without paying. My son-in-law is an excellent Konoha shinobi. You will not escape.”

Ayame followed, angrier about the wasted food than the money. By the time they reached the street, the travelers had disappeared.

”Do not worry,” she told her father, clenching one fist. ”No one steals from Ichiraku. When Tonbo returns, the Defense Force will find them and teach them properly.”

Farther away, Sasuke pulled Boruto through another alley.

Their effort to protect the future had already created an eating contest and made them suspects in a dine-and-dash.