(NEW ICHIRAKU RAMEN) CHAPTER SEVEN

Gojo Satoru was weird.

That was the first conclusion Naruto reached as he sat on the edge of a nearby rooftop, the cool night air brushing against his skin while the city of Kawasaki stretched out below them in a sprawl of lights and shadows. Weird in a way that went far beyond simple eccentricity, beyond the sort of odd habits or strange quirks Naruto had seen in plenty of powerful people back in his own world.

The man was also arrogant to a fault, and yet, irritatingly enough, that arrogance felt earned.

Naruto found himself wishing that at least some of it was empty bravado, the kind of bluster people used to hide their weaknesses, but everything he had seen so far suggested otherwise. The curses, as Gojo had called them, gave him a wide berth without hesitation, shrinking away from his presence as though instinct alone warned them not to draw his attention. And the cursed energy he wielded was something else entirely, vast yet frighteningly efficient, flowing through him with such natural ease that it reminded Naruto of the rare prodigies he had known in his own world.

Neji, with his exceptional talent and rapid mastery of complex techniques.

Itachi, whose own ability had always seemed to border on the unreal.

And Kakashi, who had mastered techniques most shinobi spent lifetimes chasing.

Was Gojo this world’s version of them?

The thought came unbidden, and Naruto immediately shoved it aside. He would never say that out loud, not in a million years. Gojo’s ego was already large enough without Naruto feeding it, and if the man ever heard that comparison, and knew enough to understand it, his head would probably swell to the size of the moon.

Still, for all his weirdness, Naruto could not deny one thing.

Gojo was a good person.

That realization had settled in during the quiet aftermath of their impromptu spar, when the rush of movement and high speed thinking had given way to the rhythm of breathing and the distant sounds of the city below. Gojo had seemed… happier, for lack of a better word, as though being knocked onto his back had done something more for him than any easy victory ever could.

Naruto had hoped, somewhat awkwardly, that the man was not the type of prodigy who derived pleasure from being beaten, because that felt like crossing into a level of weird even he did not want to deal with.

After that, they had climbed up to the rooftop and sat there, side by side, legs dangling over the edge as the night slowly eased toward dawn. The conversation that followed had been unexpected in a way Naruto had not quite been prepared for.

He had not exactly admitted that he was not from this world. Instead, he had kept to vague truths, claiming only that he was unfamiliar with Japanese culture as a whole, that there were gaps in his knowledge he could not easily explain. It was not really a lie, but it was far from the full story.

Gojo, of course, had seen through it.

He had not pressed too hard, but Naruto could tell from the way those hidden eyes seemed to linger on him that the man had already pieced together more than he was saying. Prodigies were terrifyingly sharp in every world, it seemed, and Gojo fit that mold far too well for comfort.

Naruto had sulked a little at that, just enough to feel it, and then kept his mouth shut while Gojo, apparently satisfied for the moment, launched into an enthusiastic explanation of everything Naruto lacked, from cursed spirits and jujutsu sorcerers to barriers, clans, and the uneasy balance that kept this hidden world turning beneath the notice of ordinary people. He spoke easily and confidently, as though sharing secrets was as natural to him as breathing.

Naruto did not really know why Gojo was so open now when he had been so probing before, but he was not about to question it. He needed that knowledge, every scrap of it, if he and Hinata were going to survive in this world. So he listened, nodded, and stored it all away, letting Gojo talk until he had nothing left to add.

It was not long before the horizon began to pale, the first hints of morning creeping into the sky, and Gojo finally decided that he had said enough. Apparently, it was time for him to get his beauty sleep.

Naruto did not buy that for a second.

Just like him, Gojo did not look tired at all. If anything, he seemed as energetic as ever, posture loose and grin wide, as though the fight and the conversation had not even happened. But Naruto knew an excuse when he heard one, and Gojo seemed exactly the type to blabber on about a new curiosity to those he knew.

So Naruto did not argue. He simply nodded as Gojo stood, dusted himself off, and stretched like someone preparing to leave after an enjoyable evening.

Before going, though, Gojo had extracted a promise from him. Someday, Naruto would tell him what that second presence inside him really was. Naruto had agreed, noncommittal but honest enough to mean it, even if he had no idea when, or how, he would ever explain something like Kurama to someone from this world.

In return, he had handed Gojo a neatly packed takeaway order from the shop.

Japanese curry.

If Gojo was surprised that they had figured out his favorite meal, he did not show it. To him, it probably seemed like a trivial thing. To Naruto, though, it was just common sense. He had smelled it on the man earlier, faint but distinct, and had quietly passed the information to Hinata while Gojo was not looking.

Or maybe he had been looking. The man had worn a knowing smirk through the entire exchange, though that could easily have been chalked up to something else.

Still, Gojo accepted it with obvious pleasure, thanked Naruto with a lazy grin, and then, without any further warning, simply vanished. One moment he was there, standing at the edge of the rooftop, and the next there was nothing but empty air, as though he had never been there at all.

Naruto stared at the spot for a long moment, the city breeze stirring his hair and the smell of curry lingering in the air.

Teleportation, he thought. Figures.

Eventually, he let out a slow breath and shook his head.

He really hoped Gojo did not think they were friends or something.

The man was far too weird for his liking.