Time accelerated.
While Tonbo worked quietly in the shadows of the Intel Division, the world outside shifted gears.
Orochimaru returned.
Minato Namikaze returned.
A skeleton crew remained at the borders to prevent opportunistic strikes, but the bulk of Konoha's military power flooded back into the village.
Tonbo stood in the crowd during the victory parade. He didn't see Orochimaru. The Snake Sannin likely despised these displays of "false peace."
But he saw Minato.
The Yellow Flash walked at the head of the column, waving to the cheering masses. He was exactly as the legends described: bright, charismatic, and painfully young. The adulation was deafening. It wasn't just respect; it was love.
"Finally over," Tonbo murmured.
Peace would reign for a long time now. Well, until the Nine-Tails attack. But that was a problem for October.
Tonbo turned away. He had no intention of pushing through the crowd to shake Minato's hand. He wasn't a social climber. He was a survivor.
His allegiance lay with Inoichi Yamanaka. The Ino-Shika-Cho trio were the bedrock of Konoha's internal stability. They supported whoever sat in the chair. As long as Tonbo stayed in Inoichi's shadow, he was safe.
The funeral was somber.
Black clothes replaced the green flak jackets. Rain fell, mingling with tears.
Tonbo stood in the back rows of the cemetery, observing the cast of Naruto.
Orochimaru, pale and reptilian. Minato, bowing his head. Kakashi, looking lost. Guy, staring at a fresh grave with fierce determination.
And Kushina Uzumaki.
She was unmistakable. Her red hair was a beacon in the grey mist. But more than that, Tonbo could feel her. Even with his sensory chakra suppressed, the sheer density of her life force was suffocating. It was like standing next to a dormant volcano.
The Nine-Tails, Tonbo thought, shivering. That's a walking nuclear bomb.
Hiruzen Sarutobi did not give a speech about the Will of Fire. He stood silently before the Memorial Stone, a tired old man mourning his children.
The mourning period ended. The village pivoted to the future.
The rumors were confirmed. After months of deliberation, the Third Hokage announced his successor.
Minato Namikaze was the Fourth Hokage.
The village erupted in joy. A war hero, a powerful ninja, a kind man. He was the perfect leader.
On the day of the inauguration, Tonbo watched from a rooftop as Minato waved from the Hokage Tower, his white cloak billowing in the wind. The kanji for "Fourth Fire Shadow" blazed on his back.
"Perfect," Tonbo noted. "Except for Danzo and Orochimaru, everyone loves him."
Tonbo scanned the shadows for Danzo, the "King of Roots," but saw nothing.
Good, he decided. I don't want to meet Danzo. I just want ramen.
Ichiraku Ramen.
Tonbo slid onto his usual stool.
Teuchi glared at him, wielding a rolling pin like a weapon. This brat is here for my daughter again.
But professionalism won out. Teuchi forced a smile. "Tonkotsu Ramen, coming up."
"Thanks, Uncle. Where's Ayame?" Tonbo asked politely, though his eyes were already scanning the shop.
"She's delivering an order to Mrs. Tanaka down the street," Teuchi grunted. "She has bad knees."
It wasn't that he hated Tonbo. The kid was polite, paid on time, and was a war veteran. But he wasn't ready to hand over his little girl just yet.
"Need a hand?" Tonbo offered, seeing the stack of orders piling up. "I'm fast."
"No!" Teuchi barked. "Ramen is an art! You can't just jump in. You'll ruin the texture!"
Tonbo sighed. He finished his bowl in three gulps, wiped his mouth, and stood up. But instead of leaving, he slipped behind the counter.
"Hey! Get out of my kitchen!"
But Tonbo was already at the prep station. He washed his hands with practiced speed and grabbed a lump of dough.
He didn't know the recipe, but he had watched Teuchi for months.
Sensory Perception: Active.
Tonbo closed his eyes. He could feel the moisture content of the flour. He could sense the elasticity of the gluten strands.
Knead. Fold. Press. Stretch.
His hands moved in a blur. He applied chakra to his palms, regulating the temperature and pressure to create the perfect consistency.
Teuchi's jaw dropped. The boy's movements were fluid, precise, and identical to his own.
"You... you lied to me," Teuchi muttered, turning back to his boiling pot. "You said you've never done this before. You've clearly been trained!"
"I watch you every day, Uncle," Tonbo laughed, slapping the dough onto the counter. "I'm a ninja. Mimicry is part of the job."
With Tonbo prepping the noodles, the backlog vanished. The service speed doubled.
Teuchi watched him out of the corner of his eye. The kid learns fast. Maybe... if he inherits the shop when I retire...
He started giving tips. "Use more wrist on the fold. Yes, like that."
Tonbo absorbed it all.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound of footsteps made them both look up.
A blonde man in a white cloak walked in, guiding a red-haired woman with a very large belly.
"Lord Fourth!"
Tonbo froze, his hands covered in flour. He immediately bowed.
Holy crap. He's been Hokage for four hours and he's already getting ramen.
"You're a ninja, aren't you?"
Minato smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. He had sensed Tonbo's chakra the moment he walked in.
"Yes, sir," Tonbo straightened up. "Analysis Team, under Captain Mawari Dokuraku. Tonbo Tobitake."
He kept his gaze respectful. He didn't dare look too long at Kushina. Jinchuriki were state secrets, and staring was a good way to get flagged by Anbu.
"Minato... Lord Hokage, he's just helping me out because I was swamped," Teuchi interjected quickly, afraid Tonbo would get in trouble for moonlighting.
"It's fine, Teuchi-san," Minato laughed. "Kushina was craving the salty broth. Is the baby kicking?"
Kushina rubbed her swollen belly, grinning. "Yeah, he's hungry. He wants to eat, ya know!"
Minato looked back at Tonbo. "We'll take one Tonkotsu and one Seafood Ramen."
"Yes, Lord Hokage!"
Tonbo went back to kneading, his heart pounding.
Just cook the noodles. Don't say anything stupid. Don't change the timeline.
He was a master of the Will of Fire (kneading dough). He would serve the Hokage the best bowl of ramen in history, and then he would fade back into the background.
That was the ninja way.