A gentle, polite inquiry reached Ino's ears, but she froze as if struck by a faint electrical current.
"Eh?"
That voice... though she rarely heard it in the Academy, the underlying tone was unmistakable. Was this really that "demon"—Uzumaki Naruto?
She widened her eyes in disbelief, scrutinizing the blond boy before her. Over the mid-term break, his hair had indeed grown, framing his face in soft, golden layers. But the real shock—the thing that made her heart perform a sudden, erratic skip—was that the six whisker marks were gone. Those marks, which usually triggered an instinctive sense of unease or "otherness," had vanished completely.
Without those whiskers... he's actually this handsome?
Ino found herself performing a rapid, involuntary mental assessment. She subconsciously compared him to her "idol," Uchiha Sasuke. Sasuke possessed a cold, aloof beauty; he was like moonlight reflecting off a shard of ice—striking, but distant. Naruto, however, was a completely different archetype. With his relaxed brow and clear, lake-blue eyes, he exuded an infectious, radiant warmth. He was the winter sun personified.
They each have their own merits... Ino felt a hot flush creep up her neck. Her mind was a chaotic mess of teenage priorities, leaving her momentarily speechless. It was official: Ino Yamanaka was a sucker for a good-looking face, and Naruto had just flipped her world on its axis.
Seeing the panic flickering in Ino's wide eyes and the deepening crimson on her cheeks, Naruto understood perfectly. In his previous life, he'd heard of Ino's "looks-oriented" trait; seeing it in person was a tactical confirmation.
Breaking the awkward silence, Naruto introduced himself with a natural, disarming grace. "I am Uzumaki Naruto."
The introduction acted like a reset switch for Ino. "So it is Naruto-kun... I mean, Naruto-san!" She quickly corrected herself, trying to maintain a respectable classmate-level distance to hide her internal fluster. "You... you've changed so much. I didn't recognize you at all."
Her gaze lingered on his clean face, still marveling at the "makeover."
"The whiskers were too distinctive," Naruto said, his hand stopping just short of touching his cheek to avoid smudging the concealer. "I decided to cover them up to avoid trouble. Is the difference really that dramatic?"
Before Ino could answer, a "whoosh" of air cut between them. With near-instantaneous speed, Inoichi Yamanaka appeared, a stiff, overly bright smile plastered onto his face. He thrust a beautifully wrapped bouquet into Naruto's hands.
"So you're Ino's classmate! What a coincidence!" His voice was several octaves higher than usual, vibrating with a forced, paternal enthusiasm. "Today is New Year's Eve, and you're our final customer, so this one is on the house! On the house!"
He didn't wait for a response. "You must have a busy schedule! Don't keep your teacher waiting! We're actually closing up right now—Happy New Year!"
Inoichi spoke with the rapid-fire delivery of a man trying to defuse a bomb. Recalling Minato Namikaze was one thing; nostalgia was a fine emotion. But a father's protective instinct was a different beast entirely. Seeing a handsome, golden-haired boy charming his precious daughter triggered every alarm bell in Inoichi's head.
Minato's son or not, she's still in the Academy! Unacceptable!
"Wait, Uncle," Naruto managed, looking baffled by the sudden high-alert energy. "How much do I owe you? I—"
"You called me Uncle, so the flowers are a gift!" Inoichi didn't give him an inch. He used his arm to half-guide, half-shove Naruto toward the exit. "No money! Go! Run! Don't let the 'vigor of youth' fade! Happy New Year!"
Ding-dong.
The door clicked shut. Naruto found himself standing in the biting cold of the street, clutching a premium bouquet. From inside, he could faintly hear Ino's disgruntled protest: "Dad! What was that for?!"
Naruto stood in the snow, exasperated. Inoichi Yamanaka is really something else. I'll have to find a way to pay him back later.
He had discovered through his research that Might Guy's birthday was January 1st—tomorrow. It was a date that perfectly suited Guy's personality: a perpetual new beginning. Naruto wanted to make a gesture of genuine gratitude. Ninja tools were too impersonal and expensive, but flowers carried a specific "language."
He had intended to ask for a professional's help to avoid a catastrophe. For instance, he knew sunflowers symbolized loyalty and respect—perfect for Guy-sensei. Conversely, giving white chrysanthemums, which were reserved for funerals, would be a disaster of epic proportions.
In the Hokage's Office, Hiruzen Sarutobi watched the scene unfold through his crystal ball. When he saw Naruto standing in the snow, looking bewildered yet holding the flowers with such care, a benevolent smile creased his face.
He remembered Naruto asking about Guy's birthday a few days prior. So that was the reason, the Sandaime mused, stroking his goatee.
Watching the boy navigate the snowy streets, the old man felt a surge of warmth. Naruto had received so little kindness from the world, yet he was so eager to give it back to those who offered him even a sliver of guidance.
"What a good child," Hiruzen murmured, his gaze softening with pride. "Minato, Kushina... your sincerity is more resilient than we ever dared to hope."