Their growing friendship eventually leads Andrew to Ichiraku Ramen, Naruto's favorite place in the village. The first time Naruto drags him there, Andrew is skeptical—the small stand tucked between larger buildings doesn't look particularly special.

  "Trust me," Naruto insists, pulling Andrew by the sleeve. "This is the best ramen in the whole world! Believe it!"

  As they duck under the short curtains, a booming voice calls out, "Well, if it isn't my best customer! And you've brought a friend!"

  Teuchi, the robust owner with his weathered face and ever-present chef's bandana tied securely over his graying hair, beams at them from behind the counter. His laugh is as hearty as his ramen broths, and his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles.

  "Teuchi-san!" Naruto greets him with equal enthusiasm. "This is Andrew! He's my friend from the Academy!"

  "Any friend of Naruto's is welcome here," Teuchi declares, his kind eyes assessing Andrew. "First bowl's on the house for new customers."

  Andrew bows slightly. "Thank you, sir."

  Teuchi chuckles. "No need for 'sir' around here. Just Teuchi is fine." He turns back to his pots, expertly adding ingredients. "So, what'll it be, boys?"

  "Miso ramen with extra pork for me!" Naruto announces, as if Teuchi wouldn't already know his order.

  "And for you, young man?" Teuchi asks Andrew.

  "I'll have the same, please," Andrew replies, watching with interest as the chef works.

  As Teuchi prepares their meals, he keeps up a stream of friendly conversation. Unlike most adults in the village who treat Naruto with cold disdain, Teuchi speaks to him with genuine warmth.

  "So how's the Academy treating you boys? Learning lots of impressive ninja techniques?"

  "They're still making us do boring stuff," Naruto complains. "I want to learn cool jutsu, but Iruka-sensei just makes us practice throwing kunai all day."

  "The basics are important," Teuchi says wisely, stirring the broth. "Can't build a house without a foundation, right?"

  "That's what I keep telling him," Andrew adds, earning a playful glare from Naruto.

  "Smart boy," Teuchi approves with a nod. "You could learn a thing or two from your friend, Naruto."

  "Andrew's super smart," Naruto agrees readily, surprising Andrew with his sincere praise. "He knows everything about everything. But he's still fun, not boring like the other smart kids."

  Teuchi glances between them, a knowing smile on his face. "Sounds like you two make a good team."

  "The best!" Naruto declares.

  As Teuchi places steaming bowls before them, his daughter Ayame emerges from the back. She's a slender young woman with long brown hair tied back with a white bandana, and she has the same warm eyes as her father.

  "Dad, where did you put the—" She stops mid-sentence, spotting Naruto. "Naruto-kun! I thought I heard your voice."

  "Ayame-neechan!" Naruto greets her with a wide grin. "Look, I brought my friend!"

  Ayame turns her attention to Andrew, her smile growing. "Well, hello there! I'm Ayame."

  "Andrew Slayn," he introduces himself politely. "Nice to meet you."

  "He's my best friend," Naruto adds importantly through a mouthful of noodles. "We're gonna be ninja together."

  "Swallow before you speak, Naruto," Teuchi says automatically, but there's fondness in his tone rather than reprimand.

  As they eat, Andrew notices the subtle ways Teuchi and Ayame care for Naruto. Teuchi adds extra slices of pork to Naruto's bowl when he thinks the boy isn't looking. Ayame insists he eat the vegetables he tries to pick out. When Naruto reaches for his wallet—a worn frog-shaped coin purse—to pay, Teuchi waves him off.

  "It's on the house today," he says casually. "You boys are my last customers of the night."

  Andrew sees through the lie—there are still two hours until closing—but says nothing, understanding that this is Teuchi's way of looking after Naruto.

  As they prepare to leave, Teuchi calls Naruto back. "Hold on a minute, son." He disappears into the back and returns with a small package. "Some leftovers for tomorrow. Can't have my favorite customer going hungry."

  Naruto's eyes widen as he accepts the package. "Thanks, Teuchi-ojisan!"

  The familial term slips out naturally, and neither Teuchi nor Naruto seems to notice. But Andrew does, and he sees the flash of paternal affection in Teuchi's eyes as he ruffles Naruto's blonde spikes.

  "You boys come back soon, you hear?" Teuchi says, his voice a touch gruffer than before. "And Naruto—" he leans over the counter, lowering his voice, "—you take care of yourself. Eat something besides instant ramen at home. Growing boys need vegetables too."

  "But vegetables are gross," Naruto whines.

  "They keep you strong," Teuchi insists. "How can you become Hokage if you're not healthy?"

  Naruto straightens immediately. "I'll eat them! Believe it!"

  As they walk home, Andrew glances at his friend. "They really care about you."

  Naruto hugs the package of leftovers to his chest. "Yeah," he says softly. "They're the best."

  What begins as a business relationship quickly transforms into something more familial. Ayame, though only a few years older than the boys, immediately adopts them as her "little brothers," fussing over their appearance and nutrition with sisterly concern.

  "Your hair is a mess again, Naruto! Come here," she'd say, producing a comb from nowhere and attacking the blonde's spiky locks while he squirms and protests through a mouthful of noodles.

  "Andrew, you're too thin! Here, another bowl—on the house," she insists, pushing extra food toward him despite his protests that he's already full.

  She notices the holes in their clothes and mends them while they eat, clucks disapprovingly at their scrapes and bruises after training, and somehow always knows when they've skipped lunch at the Academy. Her mothering often embarrasses them in public, but both boys secretly treasure the attention—especially Naruto, who has never known family care of any kind.

  When Andrew notices how merchants overcharge Naruto for spoiled groceries—or refuse to sell to him entirely—he asks Ayame if she would teach him to cook.

  "Why do you want to learn?" Ayame asks, surprised that a young boy would show interest in cooking.

  Andrew glances at Naruto, who's slurping down his third bowl of ramen, oblivious to their conversation. He lowers his voice slightly.

  "I've seen how the shopkeepers treat him," Andrew says. "They give him rotten vegetables and charge him triple for them. Sometimes they won't sell to him at all." His hands tighten into fists on the counter. "It's not right. He can't live on instant ramen alone, even if it is delicious," he adds hastily, not wanting to insult their cooking.

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  Ayame's eyes soften with understanding. "And you want to help him."

  "Because good food is important," Andrew replies simply. "And everyone deserves to eat well, especially Naruto." He looks down, suddenly embarrassed by his own earnestness. "Plus, I think it would be nice to cook for someone else. I've never had the chance before."

  Ayame studies him for a long moment, then her face breaks into a radiant smile. She reaches across the counter to ruffle his hair affectionately.

  "Andrew Slayn, you're something special, you know that?" She glances at her father, who nods his approval, having overheard the conversation. "I'd be honored to teach you. We'll start tomorrow after the lunch rush—simple dishes first, things that are nutritious and easy to prepare."

  "The boy wants to learn to cook, eh?" Teuchi chimes in, wiping his hands on a towel as he approaches. "That's a rare thing for someone your age. Most boys think the kitchen is women's work."

  "That's silly," Andrew replies earnestly. "Everyone should know how to cook. It's an important skill."

  Teuchi laughs, a deep, rich sound that fills the small stand. "You're right about that!" He leans over the counter, his expression growing more serious. "I've seen how they treat Naruto in the markets too. Makes my blood boil." He glances at the blonde boy, who's now chatting animatedly with another customer. "That boy deserves better than what this village gives him."

  "So you'll help me help him?" Andrew asks.

  Teuchi places a large, calloused hand on Andrew's shoulder. "Son, I've been in this business for thirty years. I've served everyone from farmers to Hokages. And I can tell you this—" his voice drops to a confidential tone, "—a person who cooks for others with love in their heart is worth ten of those who can't see past their own prejudice."

  He straightens up, his usual jovial demeanor returning. "You come by whenever you want. My kitchen is open to you. And someday—" he winks, "—maybe you'll tell me why those eyes of yours glow like moonlight when you're excited."

  As the cooking lessons begin, Ayame discovers Andrew has a natural talent in the kitchen—his hands are steady, his attention to detail impressive, and he never needs to be told something twice. What surprises her most, though, is his dedication. While other children his age would grow bored or distracted, Andrew approaches each lesson with serious concentration.

  "You're a better student than half the apprentices who've asked to learn from Dad," she tells him one day, watching him perfectly julienne vegetables. "I'm proud of you."

  Andrew's face flushes with pleasure at the praise, but his eyes remain focused on his task. "I just want to do it right," he says. "For Naruto."

  What neither of them says aloud, but both understand, is that these lessons are about more than just food. They're about creating something that's been denied to both boys: a home.

  "You don't have to do this," Naruto says one night, watching Andrew repair a leaking faucet.

  "I know," Andrew replies with a shrug. "I want to."

  What neither boy realizes is that their antics have caught the attention of a particular ANBU with a cat mask and violet hair. Yugao Uzuki, recognizable only by the strands of purple hair visible beneath her porcelain cat mask painted with red and green markings, observes them from the shadows. Her standard-issue ANBU uniform consists of a gray flak jacket over a black sleeveless shirt, arm guards emblazoned with the spiral symbol of Konoha, black pants, and the distinctive white tanto strapped across her back. The tattoo on her left shoulder—the mark of ANBU service—remains hidden beneath her armor as she maintains her surveillance.

  While other ANBU members merely report the pranks, Yugao observes with hidden amusement and growing respect. She's impressed by Naruto's natural talent for stealth and trap-setting—skills that most genin struggle to master even after years of training. The boy who's shunned by the village has, ironically, developed shinobi arts through his mischief that would make him an excellent infiltration specialist. His ability to evade detection by chunin and even some jonin while wearing bright orange is nothing short of remarkable.

  But it's Andrew who truly captures her interest. Though he participates in the pranks, Yugao has never actually seen him in the act—a level of stealth unusual even for prodigies. What impresses her more, though, is his dedication to his friend. She's witnessed him standing up to shopkeepers three times his size, negotiating fiercely for fair prices. She's seen him teaching himself to repair plumbing and electrical fixtures in Naruto's neglected apartment. Most nights, she observes him cooking elaborate meals from Ayame's lessons, then carefully packing leftovers for the next day.

  "He shows more loyalty than most adult shinobi I know," she remarks quietly to the Third Hokage during one of her reports. "And more compassion than this village has shown either of them."

  The aged Hokage sits behind his desk, pipe in hand, his weathered face thoughtful as he considers Yugao's words. Hiruzen Sarutobi has lived through three great wars, seen countless shinobi rise and fall, and learned to trust his instincts about people. But he's also learned caution, especially when it comes to Naruto.

  "Your reports on this friendship have been... intriguing, Cat," he says, using her ANBU codename as smoke curls around his face. "But I must ask—are you certain there are no ulterior motives at play? No one has put the boy up to this? There are many who would love to gain influence over our jinchūriki."

  Yugao stands at attention, but there's a hint of defensiveness in her posture. "With respect, Hokage-sama, I've observed them for over a year now. If this is some elaborate long-game, it's the most convincing one I've ever seen."

  "Elaborate how?" the Hokage presses, leaning forward. "Be specific."

  "Andrew buys better food for Naruto even when it means he goes hungry himself," Yugao replies without hesitation. "He's taken beatings from shopkeepers for standing up for Naruto when no one is watching to impress. He stays up late helping Naruto with Academy work, then gets up early to train himself." She pauses. "Three weeks ago, Naruto caught a fever. Andrew didn't leave his side for two days, not even to attend classes he normally excels in."

  The Hokage's gaze sharpens. "And you're absolutely certain no one is manipulating the situation? No older parties involved?"

  "None that I've detected, Hokage-sama," Yugao answers. "I've traced Andrew's movements extensively. His only regular contacts outside the Academy are the Ichiraku family—who have proven their genuine care for Naruto over years—and occasional interactions with other orphans." She hesitates before adding, "If I may speak freely, sir?"

  The Hokage nods.

  "I believe we're looking at a genuine bond. Perhaps the first real friendship Naruto has ever had." She keeps her tone professional, but conviction underlies her words. "Andrew Slayn appears to be exactly what he seems—an orphan who recognized another lonely soul and decided to do something about it."

  Hiruzen smokes his pipe silently for a long moment. "Continue your surveillance," he finally says. "But... perhaps give them a bit more privacy in their home. Boys their age need space to build trust."

  Yugao bows slightly. "As you wish, Hokage-sama."

  As she turns to leave, the Hokage calls after her. "And Yugao?" She pauses at the use of her real name. "Thank you for watching over them both."

  After she departs, Hiruzen turns to gaze out the window at the village below. "An orphan with silver chakra and natural stealth who protects Naruto..." he murmurs to himself. "How very interesting."

  One evening, after Andrew has spent hours repairing a persistent leak in the ceiling and preparing a hearty stew with fresh vegetables (purchased after an intense negotiation with a reluctant merchant), Naruto watches him work from the small kitchen table. The blonde boy has been uncharacteristically quiet, his usually boundless energy subdued as he follows Andrew's movements around the tiny apartment.

  "You don't have to do this," Naruto says finally, his voice lacking its usual boisterous confidence.

  "I know," Andrew replies with a shrug, stirring the pot on the stove. "I want to."

  "But why?" Naruto persists, his hands fidgeting with a napkin, tearing it into tiny pieces. "Nobody else does. Nobody else... cares."

  Andrew turns from the stove, seeing the genuine confusion in his friend's blue eyes. He realizes with a pang that Naruto truly doesn't understand why anyone would be kind to him without ulterior motives.

  "Because we're friends, Naruto," he says simply. "Friends take care of each other."

  Naruto's eyes shine with unshed tears, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I've never had a friend before you."

  The admission hangs in the air between them, heavy with years of loneliness and rejection that no child should have to endure. Andrew abandons the stew to sit across from Naruto at the table.

  "Well, you do now," he says firmly. "And you'll never not have one again."

  Naruto swallows hard, looking down at the table as if embarrassed by his own emotions. When he looks back up, there's a vulnerability in his expression that he never shows to others.

  "You're more than just my friend, you know," Naruto says, his voice gaining strength. "You're like... you're like the brother I never had." His cheeks flush red, but he plows ahead. "I mean it, Andrew. You're my brother. Not by blood, but..." he gestures vaguely at his heart, "...you know."

  Andrew feels a lump form in his throat. In his previous life, he'd been an only child. In this one, he's been alone in the orphanage despite the other children around him. The simple declaration from this loud, orange-clad troublemaker means more than either boy has words to express.

  "Brothers," Andrew agrees, holding out his hand.

  Instead of taking it, Naruto lunges forward and catches him in a fierce hug that nearly topples them both from their chairs. Andrew returns it just as tightly, and something settles between them—a bond that will withstand the trials to come, though neither yet knows what those will be.

  The stew boils over, breaking the moment, and soon they're both laughing as they clean up the mess. But something has changed, solidified. From that night forward, Naruto introduces Andrew as "my brother" to everyone they meet, and the word carries all the weight and meaning of true family.

  Sometimes, Andrew feels eyes on them and turns to catch a glimpse of a shadow on the rooftops—a shadow that never pursues them beyond observation. Once, after a particularly cruel shopkeeper had refused to sell him medicine when Naruto was sick with fever, Andrew found a small package outside their apartment door containing exactly the medicine they needed. There was no note, no explanation—just a single purple hair caught in the wrapping.

  Despite his mischievous alliance with Naruto, Andrew excels at the Academy, particularly in tracking and nature transformation techniques. The instructors note that he seems to instinctively understand how to move through the forest without disturbing a single leaf, a skill that usually takes years to develop.

  Then, on his tenth birthday, under the full moon, everything changes.

  Author Note:

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