Chapter 8: Sweet Memories and Cinnamon Kindness
The road to Oshibana Town wound gently downward, yet it felt like the weight on Naruto's shoulders grew heavier with each step.
The town was larger than Clover, bustling with a higher density of people, homes, and noise. But it lacked Clover's soul—the gentle trees swaying in the wind, the scent of pine in the air, the rivers that laughed as they ran through open fields. In its place stood a dusty mountain and a town painted in brilliant, artificial hues.
Oshibana looked like a child's playset come to life.
Every red was a candy-bright cherry, every blue a radiant royal. The yellow of the taxis matched the rain-slickers and even the lamps—perfectly coordinated, perfectly unnatural. There was no room for chaos here. No brown leaves, no graffiti, no muted pastels or the gray of time and age. No pinks, oranges, or violets.
Nothing was sun-faded. Nothing was broken.
It was too perfect.
Naruto walked through the town like a ghost in a storybook—present, but never truly part of it. The dull thump of smiths at work beat in the distance like a heartbeat, giving life to the town. People passed him without notice, unaware that the mountain behind them had grown, twisted, and reshaped under his very footsteps. His mere existence had forced nature to bend, to evolve. Where once there was soil and stone, now pulsed the breath of stars and storms.
His chakra—no longer just an internal force, but a cosmic constant—had altered this world. Planets had shifted. The air teemed with power. What once took centuries of evolution now happened in generations. Plants bent toward his energy. Beasts mutated into strange and powerful creatures. Humans learned to feel the energy in the wind, in the rain, in the very stillness of night.
Yet despite all this wonder, Naruto felt a weight in his chest.
He ran his hand along the strap of his bag and exhaled slowly, eyes flicking up toward the untouched, surreal skyline. His reflection danced in every pristine window—an ageless face with wise, tired eyes and a smile he wore for the sake of others.
"Sometimes I wish I was just normal," he mused quietly, "that all of this was a midnight dream I could wake from…"
But that wish was fleeting. A foolish lie.
Because without his power—without this gift and curse—he would never have survived. Never protected those he loved. Never seen all he had seen.
And that truth made him deeply, achingly sad.
"What a dilemma," he murmured. "Can't live with it, can't live without it."
He forced the weight down. Not today.
This was a new place, a new road to walk. "Ah, enough about that… I need to enjoy this new town, isn't that right, Ino?"
He frowned, pausing mid-step as the name slipped from his lips.
Her smile passed through his memory like sunlight through trees. He let the warmth linger, the ache of it more comfort than pain. He couldn't let the shadows take him—not now. The end was drawing near. But this… this was his final journey. It had to be lived, truly lived.
He shed his cloak, folding it with care and slipping it into his bag.
Underneath, he wore a simple white shirt, light brown pants, and matching shoes. Around his neck hung the green necklace Tsunade had given him—its power long faded, but its meaning ever fresh. On his wrist, the violet bracelet from Hinata, a color he once thought didn't suit him.
But he'd never taken it off.
He couldn't. Wouldn't.
Not for anything.
Because in every thread, in every crystal, in every dull glint of violet under the sunlight, was a promise.
That no matter how far he wandered, he never forgot.
And he never stopped loving.
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"Ark, let's see what this place has. Hopefully some good sweets."
Naruto patted the mighty Arcanine's mane as they stepped into the heart of Oshibana Town. The bright, colorful buildings and bustling streets pulsed with activity, but Naruto's gaze was more drawn toward the subtle scent of sugar, cinnamon, and baked bread wafting through the air.
"Sir Mage!" a young voice called out. Naruto turned.
A young man, no older than twenty, stared with awe at him—clearly enchanted by his appearance. Even though Naruto had tried to tone down his presence, his aura couldn't be hidden, not from eyes attuned to magic or charisma. The youth stepped forward hesitantly, "If you're looking for sweets, I can guide you! Our town is famous for its cinnamon rolls."
Naruto smiled warmly. "Thank you. Please, lead the way."
The young man eagerly guided him through winding streets until they reached a small bakery nestled between buildings, its door swinging open and closed as a steady stream of customers entered. The scent inside was heavenly—sweet, warm, and nostalgic.
Naruto inhaled deeply, then gently clasped the guide's hand, pressing a gold coin into it. "For your help." He stepped forward toward the counter, Ark's massive frame causing people to part naturally around him.
"Give me twenty servings." Naruto said without hesitation.
The baker blinked. "Are you sure, sir?"
Naruto gave a slight grin, one touched by emotion. "Yes. Take your time—and don't mess up."
As the order was prepared, Naruto's eyes softened, memories stirring.
"Doesn't this remind you of the time I went to buy cinnamon rolls for you on our anniversary?" he murmured softly, eyes far away. "I was definitely surprised that you could eat so many sweets at once."
For a heartbeat, he thought he saw her.
Hinata.
Standing beside him, smiling with those soft, starlit eyes, brushing her hair behind her ear. Her presence so vivid, so warm.
"Excuse me?"
Naruto blinked—and the illusion shattered.
A woman stood beside him now. Real. Green-haired, sharp-eyed, wearing a revealing dress half-concealed by a flowing robe. Her tone wasn't aggressive, but curious.
He gave a polite nod, "Apologies, little one. I was just remembering the old days."
Brandish cocked her head slightly, studying him.
She didn't care for small talk, didn't care for flattery. She had come here for the same reason: sweets. And unfortunately, it seemed her order would be delayed thanks to this man's enormous request. Her eyes twitched ever so slightly.
'Tsk.'
Before her irritation could bubble up, Naruto turned to the young man behind the counter.
"Young man, pack three of the servings and pass them to this young woman."
Brandish blinked, surprised.
Had he read her mind?
No—most likely she had just shown her irritation a bit too clearly.
She took the box of cinnamon rolls as they were handed to her, sliding her payment onto the counter without a word. Then, turning to the older man with that same calculating look, she gave a rare smirk.
"Thanks, old man. You're cool."
Naruto chuckled as he watched her leave.
Not many people could call him an old man and get away with it—but she did. And strangely, it didn't bother him.
Not when her tone held a hint of amused respect.
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Naruto smiled warmly, giving Brandish a double thumbs-up as she walked off. Her confident steps, green hair swaying behind her, vanished into the crowd.
"What an interesting girl… Must have a lot of desire to bless this poor world. Such a charitable lad."
He chuckled at his own sarcastic thoughts, eyes lingering for just a second on her strategically minimal clothing. Shaking his head, Naruto turned his attention back to the counter, the scent of freshly baked cinnamon rolls keeping his mind anchored in the present.
Then, a conversation behind him caught his attention.
"Hey, are you going to be visiting Galuna Island?"
"Yeah, I missed it last year, but this time I'm going—even if I have to use up all my savings."
"Man, that stuff was so good. Gotta get more before some incident happens again."
Naruto turned, intrigued by the enthusiasm in their voices. "Excuse me, young lads—what may you be talking about?"
The two young men stopped mid-conversation, their eyes widening as they looked up at the tall, well-built stranger. Between his commanding presence, the peaceful aura he gave off, and the massive beast beside him, they instinctively straightened up.
"Ah, we were talking about Galuna Island," one of them said quickly, trying to sound polite and composed. "It's about a week's journey from here, sir. The island's famous for a special kind of honey—made by Phantom Bees that only appear during this month when they cross into the human realm. You can't find honey like that anywhere else."
The second chimed in. "It's amazing, seriously. Smooth, fragrant, and powerful—like you're tasting magic. I guarantee you'll love it, Sir Mage."
Naruto nodded thoughtfully. "Is that so? Then I shall take your word for it and try this treat. Thank you for explaining—it's much appreciated." He smiled kindly, giving them a respectful nod before turning back to receive his order and allow the next customers their turn.
Behind him, the boys murmured.
"Man, that old man's got some muscles. Look at that body."
"Yeah, I wouldn't mind being squeezed by those big hands."
"Mmm… so smexy. Definitely an S-class DILF."
The two young men who had spoken to Naruto earlier froze. They slowly turned their heads to see a group of very enthusiastic people—dressed in outrageous fashion, eyes sparkling like stars, practically drooling as they admired Naruto from a distance.
The boys quickly stepped away.
One whispered, "What are these people? Where do they come from?"
The other muttered back, "I think we just wandered into a… weird fandom or something."
Meanwhile, Naruto received his twenty cinnamon rolls and carefully packed them into his storage scroll. He didn't hear the muttering, but something in his bones told him… someone, somewhere, was making a very strange comment about him.
He exhaled, glanced at Ark, and muttered, "I swear, if this keeps up, I'm going to start wearing a mask again."
Ark let out a low, amused growl that sounded suspiciously like a snort of agreement.