The year was drawing to a close, and the biting cold of winter was softened by the warmth of the holidays.
After several days of heavy snowfall, Konoha Village seemed to have been wrapped in a pristine silver cloak. Thick, untouched snow piled atop eaves, treetops, and training grounds, glittering faintly beneath the sunlight.
In striking contrast to that flawless white were the rows of bright red lanterns that had already been hung throughout the village.
They lined the streets like plump, glowing rubies.
When night fell, the lanterns lit up together, casting a gentle crimson glow that intertwined with the snowy white ground below, forming a breathtaking scene of silver snow paired with red lanterns—quiet, festive, and steeped in a traditional charm.
The entire village was immersed in the bustle and joy of the New Year.
The rich aroma of holiday meals drifted through the air. Children in brand-new clothes chased one another through the snow, setting off small fireworks as their laughter echoed through the streets. Even the ninja, for once, had set aside their heavy duties, relaxed smiles softening their faces.
High above, the carved visages on Hokage Rock seemed gentler than usual, bathed in reflected snowlight and the warm glow rising from the village below.
With the New Year so close, Naruto found himself wanting—just this once—to experience that liveliness.
He had made a point of tidying himself up back in his small apartment, ensuring he looked clean and presentable.
There was only one thing he couldn't get rid of.
The six whisker-like markings on his cheeks.
They were birthmarks, impossible to remove by ordinary means. Naruto had even once tried shaving them off—only to find they simply wouldn't budge.
Well, it wasn't like he could shave off his own skin just to get rid of them.
He practiced chakra, not some deranged forbidden art.
In the past, those whisker marks had earned him countless strange stares and whispered comments.
To blend into the crowd during the holidays and avoid unnecessary trouble, Naruto came up with a solution.
He secretly bought concealer and foundation, and standing before the mirror, carefully covered the six markings bit by bit.
The reflection staring back at him looked clean and ordinary—no different from any other child.
Going out like this… should mean fewer problems, right?
After all, in Konoha, a child with six obvious "whiskers" on his face practically screamed Demon Fox.
He didn't want that indelible mark ruining his rare good mood.
Sure enough, no one paid him any special attention as he walked through the streets.
Naruto gently pushed open the wooden door of the flower shop, a small Open sign hanging from it.
The wind chimes above the door rang out with a crisp, pleasant sound.
With the New Year approaching, the shop was actually rather quiet.
Standing behind the counter today wasn't the usual owner, Yamanaka Rino, but her husband—Inoichi Yamanaka.
Taking advantage of a rare break, he had come to watch the shop so his wife could rest at home.
Nearby, among the colorful flower stands, their daughter was there as well.
Ino Yamanaka hadn't been forced to help—she simply loved flowers. Holding a small watering can, she carefully tended to the pots, a bright, innocent smile on her rosy face.
"Welcome."
Hearing the chimes, Inoichi looked up with a practiced smile.
But as his eyes fell on the boy at the door, his greeting froze in his throat.
Sun-bright blond hair. Clear, lake-blue eyes.
And today, with the whisker marks carefully concealed, Naruto's face was completely unobstructed.
That appearance—those colors, that expression—
For an instant, it was as if a young Minato Namikaze stood there once more.
Inoichi had been a ninja of the same generation as the Fourth Hokage. He had seen Minato in his youth.
Time seemed to blur, memories surging back unbidden.
He's… so similar.
Shock, nostalgia, and a quiet bitterness welled up in his chest.
But the illusion shattered almost immediately, dragged back by cold reality.
The Fourth Hokage was gone—sacrificed to protect the village.
That silent truth weighed heavily on Inoichi's heart, lending a trace of pity and complexity to the gaze he turned toward Naruto.
"Welcome," he said again, quickly composing himself. "What kind of flowers are you looking for?"
Though his smile returned, the emotion in his eyes had yet to fully fade.
So that old joke from my previous life about Konoha being full of elders with 'bad eyesight' really was true, Naruto muttered inwardly.
He had noticed it clearly—the momentary daze, the flicker of reminiscence and sorrow.
Inoichi had seen Minato's shadow in him.
"I don't really know much about flowers," Naruto said, stepping forward with the shy sincerity appropriate for a child.
"But my teacher, who's always taken good care of me, has a birthday tomorrow. Could you help me pick out a suitable bouquet?"
"Of course," Inoichi replied at once, his voice unconsciously gentler.
He looked at the polite boy before him and sighed inwardly.
What a good child.
He's practically a miniature Minato.
While Inoichi considered what flowers to recommend, Naruto curiously looked around the shop.
The interior was elegant and neatly arranged. Flowers of all kinds bloomed in vibrant competition, filling the air with a gentle fragrance. Naruto couldn't name most of them, but the care in their presentation spoke volumes.
As his gaze drifted past one of the flower stands, he happened to meet the eyes of Ino, who was carefully watering a pot of pale purple blossoms.
She had clearly noticed the blond boy as well.
Ino looked up, her large eyes wide with curiosity and surprise—apparently startled to see someone her age here, and such a… good-looking boy at that.
Huh? Are there really boys this handsome among kids our age?
When it came to blond hair, she vaguely remembered an Uzumaki Naruto—someone her mother had warned her not to approach, not to join others in teasing.
Seeing her stunned expression, Naruto gave her a friendly, gentle smile.
"From the looks of it," he said lightly, "Ino-chan, this is your family's shop, right?"
"Eh?"