Summer in Konoha had its own sound.
The endless chirping of cicadas.
The soft rustling of wind through green leaves.
The crisp clinking of wind chimes beneath the eaves.
The tired creaking of an old fan turning slowly in the corner of the room.
All of those sounds wove together into my entire impression of summer in this world.
This was already my fifth summer since I arrived in Naruto.
Perhaps it was because the anime always seemed to show Konoha beneath bright sunlight, with blue skies and restless greenery, but the summers here felt especially long.
So long that sometimes I wondered whether they would ever truly end.
I poked my head out of the empty refrigerator and stared at the pitifully bare shelves.
Then I sighed.
"...I have to go shopping again."
For a moment, I seriously considered surviving on plain rice and tea.
Unfortunately, the rice jar was nearly empty too.
I glanced outside.
The afternoon sun was still blazing fiercely, turning the streets into a steaming furnace.
With my weak body, going out under that kind of sunlight was basically asking to collapse from heatstroke.
And if I fainted on the street, who would take care of me?
No one.
So I waited.
Only when the sky slowly shifted from harsh gold into a softer blend of orange and blue did I finally leave the house.
This time, I had learned from experience.
After the tragic incident of my shopping bag breaking halfway home last time, I dug out a large cloth bag from the closet.
I had sewn it myself from old clothes I no longer wore.
The design was based on the huge animal feed bags from my previous life.
To be honest...
It looked terrible.
My sewing skills were a complete disaster.
The stitches were crooked.
The fabrics didn't match.
The colors were chaotic enough to hurt the eyes.
But there was one advantage.
I had reinforced every seam several times.
It was ugly, but strong.
And for someone like me, practicality always mattered more than appearance.
As long as it could carry things without exploding in the middle of the road, I was satisfied.
By the time I came out of the convenience store, the sky had darkened another shade.
The heavy cloth bag was filled with instant noodles, rice balls, fruit, and a few basic daily necessities.
Don't ask why my groceries always looked the same.
The answer was simple.
A freelance writer living alone did not need impressive cooking skills.
I walked home slowly, calculating when next month's royalties would arrive.
The evening breeze brushed against my face.
It was still warm, but far more bearable than the burning heat of noon.
Then, as I passed the small park at the street corner, children's laughter came from the direction of the slide.
I glanced over instinctively.
And stopped.
I saw someone familiar.
Uzumaki Naruto was crouching beside the sandbox.
A small stick was clutched in his hand as he drew something crookedly across the sand.
His face was dirty.
Dust covered several patches of his clothes.
He looked as though he'd rolled through half the park before deciding to become a tiny artist.
Not far away, a middle-aged man with a pineapple-like hairstyle was squatting beside the slide.
With one hand, he picked up a sleepy-looking child with a ponytail.
With the other, he patted the head of a chubby boy still holding a bag of chips.
"Let's go, Shikamaru."
"Choji, your dad isn't here yet?"
"Do you want to come home with us first?"
The lazy boy named Shikamaru yawned loudly, looking as though even standing required too much effort.
Choji, meanwhile, was still focused on eating.
Even while being called away, he carefully stuffed the final chip into his mouth.
"Bye, Naruto!"
The two boys waved.
Naruto waved back.
One adult and two children slowly walked away under the setting sun.
Their shadows stretched long across the ground.
Soon, they disappeared around the corner.
Only Naruto remained in the park.
His hand was still raised.
He kept waving even after they were gone.
Those blue eyes silently followed the place where the three figures had vanished.
He didn't shout for them to wait.
He didn't run after them.
He didn't make a fuss like he usually did.
He simply lowered his hand and crouched there again.
Small.
Quiet.
Alone.
I stood where I was for a moment.
Then I sighed softly and walked toward him.
"Naruto."
He froze.
Then he turned his head.
The instant he saw me, something flashed through his eyes.
Surprise.
Joy.
Relief.
And something fragile he hadn't had time to hide.
But in the blink of an eye, he buried it beneath a huge smile.
"Big Sister!"
He shouted so loudly that several birds in the nearby trees fluttered their wings.
I bent down and brushed the sand from his hair.
"Naruto, can you help me with something?"
His eyes lit up immediately.
"What?"
"What is it?"
"I bought too many things."
I tilted the large cloth bag toward him.
"I can't carry everything by myself."
"If you help me carry one side, I'll treat you to dinner."
"How does that sound?"
"Okay!"
He jumped up instantly and grabbed one handle with both hands.
The bag was still too large for him.
To keep it from dragging across the ground, he had to raise his arms higher than usual.
His small face immediately became serious.
"It's a little heavy."
"Are you sure you can manage?"
"No problem!"
"I'm really strong!"
He walked on my left, gripping the handle tightly with both hands.
His cheeks puffed slightly from effort.
The cloth bag swayed gently between us.
The evening breeze passed through the street, carrying the scent of grass, dust, and distant cooking smoke.
For some reason, the walk home felt quieter than usual.
Peaceful.
"Naruto."
"Hm?"
"What were you drawing in the sandbox just now?"
His steps faltered.
"I was drawing..."
He suddenly stopped.
The tips of his ears turned slightly red.
"N-Nothing."
"Oh?"
"Nothing at all."
"Really?"
I looked down at him with a smile.
"You can't tell Big Sister?"
He hesitated.
His fingers tightened around the handle.
After a long while, he whispered, "I was drawing... a really, really big house."
"A big house?"
"Yeah."
"Like yours."
His voice grew smaller.
"A house where someone cooks..."
"Someone plays with me..."
"And someone comes to pick me up and takes me home..."
My heart seemed to sink quietly.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
The wish was so small.
So ordinary.
Yet for him, it seemed impossibly distant.
I shifted the bag into my left hand and reached out with my right.
Then I gently stroked his fluffy blond hair.
It was softer than I expected.
"That sounds like a very good drawing."
Naruto looked up quickly.
"Really?"
"Really."
"Next time you finish drawing one, call me over to see it."
His blue eyes brightened beneath the dimming sky.
Then he nodded hard.
"Okay!"
His hands gripped the bag even tighter, as if he had suddenly gained endless strength.
At that moment—
Footsteps sounded behind us.
"Isn't this...?"
A gentle male voice spoke with slight hesitation.
I turned around.
Nara Shikaku had returned at some point.
He stood a few steps away, holding Shikamaru's hand with one hand.
Shikamaru looked unwilling, sleepy, and vaguely curious all at once.
In Shikaku's other hand was an old wallet.
My wallet.
The one I had stuffed into my pocket before leaving the house.
"Al?"
Shikaku looked at me carefully.
"It really is you."
"Long time no see."
Honestly, I had always felt embarrassed when people called my name in the Naruto world.
I couldn't explain why.
Compared to some names in this world, mine was completely normal.
After all, this was a place where people could be named Itachi and Kakashi without anyone finding it strange.
In the end, I could only blame it on the uncomfortable feeling of having the dimensional wall broken.
I set the bag down and bowed slightly.
"Uncle Shikaku."
"Long time no see."
To be honest, I didn't particularly want to catch up.
I had first met Nara Shikaku five years ago.
At the funeral of my "parents."
Apparently, my "father" had been from the same generation as him.
At the time, I had suffered a complete mental breakdown.
Shikaku and several others had come to comfort me more than once.
His wife had even brought food to the hospital.
Later, once I gradually accepted the fact that I had to survive in this world, I declined their continued care.
After that, contact between us slowly faded.
Perhaps in the setting arranged by this world, my parents and the original "me" had shared a decent relationship with the Nara family.
But I didn't have those memories.
And more importantly...
I didn't want too much contact with the man known as Konoha's top strategist.
Talking to smart people was exhausting.
One careless sentence, and they could probably analyze your childhood trauma, future plans, and breakfast preferences.
Shikaku lifted the wallet in his hand.
"You dropped this at the convenience store."
"The clerk said it belonged to a young woman carrying a large cloth bag."
He glanced at the ugly bag between Naruto and me, and the corner of his mouth twitched faintly.
"I guessed it was probably you."
I accepted the wallet and tucked it safely into the bag.
"Thank you."
"It was no trouble."
Then his gaze naturally shifted toward Naruto.
Naruto immediately stiffened.
He subconsciously moved half a step closer to my leg, still clutching one side of the bag.
Shikaku noticed.
Of course he noticed.
But he didn't stare.
He didn't frown.
He didn't show disgust.
He simply nodded at Naruto the way one would greet any familiar child on the street.
Calm.
Natural.
Ordinary.
For Naruto, that alone was probably rare enough to remember.
"Are you friends with this kid?" Shikaku asked me.
I lowered my eyes toward Naruto.
"A good child I met by chance."
"He has helped me quite a lot."
Naruto's face turned red at once.
"I only helped Big Sister carry things last time."
"Big Sister even treated me to cup noodles and fried me an egg."
"Big Sister is much nicer."
He said it so seriously that I almost laughed.
But looking at him, I couldn't quite bring myself to.
This child truly was precious.
Every little bit of kindness others gave him...
He remembered it as though it were treasure.
Shikaku's expression softened slightly.
Beside him, Shikamaru finally stopped pretending not to care.
He glanced at Naruto, then at me, then muttered lazily, "Troublesome..."
But there was no malice in his voice.
Only the vague awkwardness of a child who didn't know what to say.
Choji had already gone home.
The park was growing quieter.
The last edge of sunset faded behind the rooftops.
Shikaku seemed to understand that I didn't want to linger too long.
He smiled faintly.
"Then I won't delay you."
"It's getting dark."
"Take care on your way back."
"Thank you, Uncle Shikaku."
I bowed again.
Naruto quickly copied me, bending awkwardly.
"T-Thank you!"
Shikaku looked slightly surprised.
Then he nodded.
"Good kid."
Naruto froze.
His eyes widened.
Just two words.
Yet they struck him harder than any scolding.
Good kid.
Perhaps no adult had said that to him in a long time.
Or perhaps no one had ever said it so naturally.
Shikaku left with Shikamaru.
Before disappearing around the street corner, Shikamaru looked back once.
His eyes lingered on Naruto for a second longer than before.
Then he yawned and turned away.
Naruto remained silent for a while.
The cloth bag between us suddenly felt heavier.
I pretended not to notice his expression.
"Naruto."
"Y-Yeah?"
"If we keep standing here, dinner will become midnight snack."
That finally pulled him back.
He nodded quickly.
"Right!"
"I'm hungry!"
"You were hungry before we even started walking."
"That's because I'm growing!"
"Growing children get hungry fast!"
His voice returned to its usual cheerfulness.
But this time, I could hear the faint tremble hiding underneath.
So I said nothing more.
Together, we carried the ugly cloth bag toward my house.
The cicadas continued crying in the trees.
The wind chimes beneath someone's eaves rang softly.
The summer evening stretched long and warm around us.
And for the first time, Naruto's shadow did not fall alone on the road.
Neither Naruto nor I understood it yet, but that summer evening had quietly changed something. The lonely child who once waited outside a closed door had finally found a place where someone would call his name—and someone else in Konoha had begun to notice.