(NEW ICHIRAKU RAMEN) CHAPTER FIVE

“I’m Gojo Satoru.”

Naruto repeated the name under his breath as though tasting the weight of it, while Hinata—who had stepped forward to greet their unexpected visitor—stiffened in a way that was almost instinctive, though the moment of tension passed quickly. She neither questioned Naruto nor showed the slightest hint of fear; she simply excused herself and moved back toward the kitchen with the quiet yet apparent certainty of someone who trusted the man she stood beside to handle whatever came next.

That alone earned Gojo’s passing respect.

Still, he had no intention of lingering at the counter, especially not when the late-night rush was beginning again, the drunks and night-owls staggering into the shop, and not when the puzzle before him—humble as it appeared at first glance—seemed more intriguing by the second.

“Mind if we talk somewhere a bit quieter?” Gojo asked mildly, as though suggesting a casual stroll rather than confronting the identity of a man whose energy felt utterly foreign to anything he had encountered before.

Naruto hesitated only long enough to glance at Hinata. She paused to offer a small, encouraging nod, and with that wordless exchange, he turned and gestured toward the side door. Gojo followed him out, leaving behind the warm glow and chatter of the shop.

The alleyway outside was narrow, bathed in the amber light of streetlights that stretched the two men’s silhouettes across the ground. The sound of distant traffic drifted in from between the buildings, softened by their height and concrete until it became little more than a muted hum.

Hinata remained inside, but Gojo still felt her attention on him despite the obstruction. Some form of ocular jujutsu, perhaps, or a sensory skill he didn’t yet recognize. Either way, another curiosity to add to the growing list.

Leaning comfortably against the wall, Gojo folded his arms behind his head. “Well then,” he began, “now that we’re away from an audience, why don’t we skip the formalities?”

Naruto mirrored him by settling into a casual, almost effortless stance, one hand resting lightly at his side, the other near his pocket, but there was a subtle readiness in the way his muscles seemed coiled under his clothing. His eyes also never seemed to settle, constantly scanning the area, and his weight sat in a way that hinted he could spring forward or step back in an instant. 

Gojo got the unmistakable sense that he was simply waiting for whatever came next.

“You’re curious,” Naruto said. “About us.”

“Oh, deeply,” Gojo replied without even attempting to hide it. “You’re not from here, that much is obvious. And your cursed energy… well.” He allowed his smile to grow. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“Cursed energy,” Naruto repeated, thoughtful enough that Gojo knew he was filing the term away. “So that’s what you call it?”

“You call it something else?” Gojo asked, intrigued.

A brief pause stretched between them, though it was less hostile and more contemplative.

“Yeah,” Naruto said at last.

“And what would that be?”

Naruto offered a small, apologetic shrug, as though genuinely sorry he couldn't tell. “Something you wouldn’t understand.”

Gojo let out a soft laugh, more amused than offended. “You’d be surprised what I can understand.”

“Maybe,” Naruto conceded. “But even if I tried to explain it, I don’t think it would make much sense to you.”

Gojo’s smile thinned, but the amusement didn’t leave his face. “You’re being evasive.”

Naruto didn’t deny it. “And you’re being nosy.”

“An occupational hazard.”

“I’m not looking for trouble.”

“You tend to find it anyway.”

Their eyes met, and for the briefest moment the world around them seemed to still, as though the air itself waited to see which direction the conversation would turn.

Naruto shook his head slightly. “What I want to know is how you sensed anything in the first place. None so far have been able to.”

“Simple,” Gojo replied. “I’m not ‘most people.’ Someone like you walks around with a second presence inside him that reeks of malevolence on par with Sukuna? Even with a blindfold, I’d notice.”

Naruto’s brows drew together, and unlike what Gojo expected—defensiveness, or at least, a measure of hostility—he seemed more curious than anything else. “You can sense a second presence?”

Gojo nodded, waiting for Naruto to elaborate.

He didn’t.

Of course he didn’t.

Their talk continued in a looping pattern of half-answers, redirected questions, and polite refusals. Naruto shared nothing about his origins, nothing about the presence bound to him, and nothing about Hinata either, who possessed both a gentle demeanour and the unmistakable bearing of a seasoned fighter. Even more intriguing was the fact that she seemed unconcerned carrying something as dangerous as Sukuna’s fingers, having simply stuffed it in one of her pockets.

For a time, Gojo allowed the evasiveness to play out, entertained by the mystery of it all.

But only for a time.

Eventually, even his patience—which tended to be much when something truly fascinated him—began to wear thin. Each evasive answer chipped away at the initial novelty, dulling the exchange into repetition and predictability.

In short, the conversation became boring.

“That’s enough talking for now,” Gojo said, pushing away from the wall with a leisurely stretch. “You’re interesting, no doubt about that. But I’m clearly not going to get the answers I want this way.”

Naruto straightened, the subtle shift in his stance signaling his awareness that something had changed. “And what exactly do you think you’re going to do?”

Gojo’s smile broadened, revealing the kind of amusement he usually reserved for curses foolish enough to challenge him. “Oh, that’s simple. I’ll just take a look for myself.”

He didn’t offer a warning.

He didn’t need to.

One moment he remained still, hands in his pockets, posture so relaxed it bordered on languid. The next, his leg snapped through the air, fast enough to break the sound barrier before the ear could catch it. He moved with the same speed that had overwhelmed a three-fingered Sukuna before the curse even had time to think.

But unlike then, Gojo wasn’t aiming to injure. This was a test to get a careful measure of the unknown standing before him.

He felt the rush of air around his strike, felt the momentum concentrate to a single point of impact…

Only to feel his kick stop.

Naruto’s forearm had risen in perfect timing, bracing against the blow with nary a change in his expression. His feet also remained planted exactly where they had been, shoulders squared, and balance utterly undisturbed.

For the first time since arriving at the ramen shop, Gojo’s amusement faded. A flash of surprise passed over his features, visible for only a second before disappearing back into a widening grin.

He stepped back with a soft exhale, the satisfaction in his expression unmistakable.

“…not bad,” he murmured.

And in Naruto’s calm, leveled gaze, Gojo found the answer to the unspoken question they had both carried into this alley:

This was only the beginning.