Chapter Text

Roots of My Soul

My very first memory was…

Light.

Not warm, not cold. Just light.

It didn't burn, nor did it soothe. It just was. A surreal experience, as if my entire existence was caught in a state of weightless limbo.

I didn't think. Not in the way I do now. I didn't need to. I was, and that was enough.

Time passed, but I never counted. I simply… grew.

At first, I was small, fragile—a tiny sprout clinging to the dirt, drinking in the sun's radiance. Then, I stretched, reaching higher, my form twisting skyward. Leaves sprouted, fresh and green. Buds formed. Then flowers. Then fruit.

I didn’t know what I was, but I didn’t care either. I simply existed, rooted deep in the earth, branches swaying with the wind. The world around me was alive in ways I couldn’t comprehend but somehow felt. The whispers of the breeze, the tiny footsteps of creatures scurrying along my bark, the delicate weight of birds nesting in my limbs.

The seasons came and went, each bringing its own trials.

Winter was suffocating, burying me under layers of ice and snow, my branches stiff and brittle. I endured.

Monsoon was worse. Drowning. My roots drank too much, the ground turned to slush, and the air was thick with the scent of rot. I held firm.

Summer, though? Summer was bliss. The golden sun kissed my leaves, and I basked in its warmth.

But spring… spring was the best. My leaves turned pink, delicate blossoms painting the air with their soft fragrance. Bees danced between my flowers, drunk on nectar. Children laughed beneath my shade. Birds sang. Life thrived.

I was alive.

And I grew.

From a tiny sapling to a hulking tree. My roots stretched deep, veins entwined with the earth itself. My branches reached for the sky, stretching toward the endless blue. Creatures made their homes within me—birds in my arms, insects in my bark, foxes curled at my roots. My fruits fed them, my shade sheltered them.

I didn’t mind.

Life was still, but it wasn’t boring. It was good.

Until the day they came.

Monsters in the Forest

I had no eyes, but I felt them. Their presence was a ripple in the air, an unnatural force that made my leaves tremble and my roots quiver.

Three of them. Monsters.

Towering. Overwhelming. Uncaring.

Two against one.

A battle? No. This was more than that. This was destruction. The earth trembled beneath their clash, trees uprooted like weeds, the air itself screaming as their power tore through the sky.

I had witnessed animals fight before—predators and prey locked in the cycle of survival. But these creatures? They weren’t fighting to live. They were annihilating.

The ground cracked.

The wind howled.

The sky darkened.

And then—

I was lifted.

No, not lifted. Ripped.

Roots severed, torn from the earth’s embrace. My body, my existence, wrenched from the ground as if I was nothing more than a disposable weapon.

Then—

I flew.

Or rather, I was hurled.

A force beyond comprehension threw me with the strength of a hurricane. I couldn’t see where I was going. I didn’t need to.

Because the next sensation?

I will never forget it.

Fire.

Consuming, ravenous fire.

My bark cracked. My branches curled inward, blackened and charred. The heat gnawed at my being, peeling away layers, searing through every fiber of my existence.

I was burning alive.

I wanted to scream, but trees don’t scream.

The last thing I felt was myself turning to ash.

Then…

Cold.

But not unpleasant.

Not like winter.

It was a still cold. A quiet cold.

I opened my eyes.

No. Not eyes.

Instinct drove me to move. I flicked something—something thin and fluid, propelling myself forward with a smooth, effortless motion.

Water.

I was in water.

No roots. No branches. No leaves. No sky.

Just water.

I twisted, testing my new form, feeling the way my body flowed with the currents.

Scales.

Fins.

Gills that inhaled, drawing the water into me, as natural as breathing once was.

I was… a fish.

A tiny thing, darting through the depths of a pond, where sunlight filtered in through the rippling surface above. My body moved with ease, weightless, free in ways I had never been before.

I had no roots tying me down. No branches to hold the sky. No creatures resting within me.

For the first time in this second life…

I was small.

And for the first time ever…

I was afraid.

—ToT—

Oddly enough, I adjusted.

Life as a fish wasn’t so bad. It was strange at first, moving through the water, feeling weightless, but instinct took over, and soon enough, I was swimming like I had done it for lifetimes.

Which, I guess, I had.

I grew. Not just in experience, but in size. I started off small, a speck in the grand, endless blue of the pond. But time passed, and my body thickened, my fins grew broader, and my once-scrawny frame became something substantial. Something big.

And life as a fish?

Better than being a tree.

I had freedom now. I could move. No longer stuck in one place, swaying with the whims of the wind, waiting for seasons to change. If I wanted warmth, I swam where the sunlight kissed the water. If I wanted solitude, I dove deeper, where the world turned still and quiet.

But the world I had once known? It had changed.

Even from beneath the water, I could see it.

The carnage.

The aftermath of the monsters.

The once-proud trees that had stood tall and mighty were now splintered husks, their roots clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. The ground, where life once thrived, was cracked, scorched, and barren.

And in the sky…

A white thing.

Round. Looming. Cold and lifeless.

It hadn’t been there before.

It was a wound in the heavens. A scar left behind by something beyond my comprehension. And every time I drifted near the surface, staring up at that unnatural thing, something in my being twisted with unease.

But I didn’t let it bother me.

Months passed. I swam, I lived.

And then—

They came.

Two-Legged Creatures

I was gliding through the water, lazily twisting my body, when I felt it.

A disturbance.

Ripples in the pond, not from fish, not from birds diving in for a meal—no, this was different. A presence above me, looming, watching.

I twisted upward—

Pain.

Something caught me.

A tight grip, pulling me up, ripping me from the water.

I flailed, gasping as air—air—burned into my gills, choking me. The world spun, the comforting embrace of the water gone, replaced by the harsh, biting dryness of the surface.

Then I saw them.

Two-legged creatures.

Their bodies were covered, not in scales, not in fur, but in something... else.

Strands of skin.

Their eyes gleamed, not with hunger, not with survival, but something more.

And then—

They opened their mouths.

Not to bite. Not to eat.

But to speak.

Sounds formed from their lips, strange and foreign, yet laced with meaning. They were not like the animals I had known before, creatures that only acted on instinct.

They communicated.

Humans.

I was still writhing in their grasp when the blade struck.

A single, clean motion.

Pain.

Darkness.

Food, they said.

Then...

Ground.

Not the cool, damp soil of a tree’s roots. Not the smooth, shifting currents of water.

Something else.

Something... soft.

I twitched, limbs unfamiliar, body strange. My vision swam, adjusting, my senses overwhelmed by a world too bright, too loud.

I moved.

Or at least, I tried to.

I flopped, uncoordinated, my body betraying me. I no longer had fins to guide me, no longer had roots to hold me firm. Instead, I had—

I lifted a trembling limb.

Not one.

Four.

Pale, tiny limbs. Clumsy, fragile, twitching with unfamiliar sensation. I wobbled, instinct pushing me forward, but my legs buckled, and I collapsed into the dirt.

I breathed.

Not through gills. Not through leaves. But through a mouth and nose, small and twitching.

I was a baby.

A baby...

Fox.

Life as a Fox

Once again, I adjusted.

At first, the world was nothing but sounds and sensations. The brush of soft fur against my side, warmth surrounding me, the distant murmurs of my siblings breathing in their sleep.

Instinct guided me. I learned to walk, step by step, my tiny paws sinking into the earth. The ground no longer felt alien—it was home. And as I grew, I began to understand the world through new eyes.

I was no longer the tallest being in the forest, no longer a silent guardian.

I was small.

Prey.

But I was fast. My body was built for movement, for weaving through underbrush, for darting between shadows. My senses were sharp—ears twitching at the faintest rustle, nose sniffing out the slightest change in the wind.

I lived.

I hunted.

I ran through the forest with my kind, learned to stalk, learned to survive.

It was a different life. But not a bad one.

Until they came.

The humans.

They did not come for food this time.

They did not come for survival.

There was no hunger in their eyes. No necessity in their actions.

They came for something else.

Entertainment.

It started as a chase. My kind had been hunted before, but never like this. There was no desperation, no need to feed a starving belly.

They laughed.

They threw things.

They set traps—not for necessity, but for sport.

And when they caught me, they did not hesitate.

A sharp impact.

Pain.

I gasped, my body shuddering as I collapsed into the dirt, warm blood soaking into my fur.

I twitched.

They laughed again.

Then—

Darkness.

—ToT—

For the first time in my many lives, I was huge.

Not just bigger than a fish, or larger than a fox. No, I was something titanic. A beast that towered over trees, my body a moving fortress of muscle and bone. My legs, thick as tree trunks, shook the ground with each step. My tail stretched long behind me, like a living whip, and my neck…

God, my neck.

It stretched high, reaching for the sun, allowing me to graze upon the tallest trees, plucking leaves with a jaw built for nothing but consumption. I had no claws, no fangs, no instincts for battle—only the endless hunger for greens, and a body designed to sustain its size with sheer, patient eating.

I was strong.

I was massive.

But I was also peaceful.

The world around me was vast, untouched. No humans, no hunters, no unnatural battles. Just an ancient forest, dense with towering trees, rivers that sparkled under the sun, and skies that stretched on forever. I was not the only one of my kind—I moved in a herd, slow and steady, our lives ruled by nothing but the sun and the seasons.

There was no fear.

No rush.

Life was simple.

For sixteen long years, I roamed the lands, drinking from rivers that never ran dry, feasting on trees that never seemed to wither. Predators came and went, but they never dared attack me.

I was too big.

Too strong.

And so, I lived.

Not with anxiety. Not with pain.

But with peace.

Until the day he came.

A God in the Forest

It started with footsteps.

Not like mine, which made the earth rumble like distant thunder. These were softer. Surer. Purposeful.

Then, a voice.

"You're a strong creature."

I froze.

I had seen nothing like him before.

He was small. Insignificant in size, barely reaching the height of my foot. His body was wrapped in strange fabric, his long black hair falling against his shoulders, and his red eyes—

Red.

I had never seen eyes like those.

They glowed like embers, swirling with something unnatural. Something dangerous.

"I've traveled for months to find this secret forest."

A predator? No. Predators needed to kill to survive. This one... didn’t.

"You are perfect to try out my Susanoo."

I didn’t know what that meant.

But I understood what happened next.

The sky darkened.

Something huge appeared—something even larger than me.

I didn’t have time to react.

A flash of light, a shift in the air—

And pain.

Pain.

I was sliced.

My enormous body, built for endurance, built to withstand the tests of time itself—cut down in an instant.

Blood poured from me like a river, and my legs buckled.

As I collapsed, the last thing I saw was the man standing there, unmoved, his red eyes gleaming in the darkness of his creation.

"Tch. A disappointment."

I was not a challenge.

Not a beast to be feared.

I was just…

A test.

And then, nothing.

The Fall

Then—

I was falling.

Not standing.

Not grazing.

Not walking.

Falling.

The wind screamed around me, the sky spun wildly in my vision, the earth—no, the world—was rushing up to meet me, and I had no idea why.

I didn’t know who I was.

I didn’t know what I was.

But I knew one thing.

Fly.

I didn’t know how I knew it, but I did.

Fly.

Because I was a newborn bird.

And I was falling.

My wings—tiny, fragile, useless—fluttered wildly as gravity pulled me down, as my instincts screamed at me to do something, anything, or I would die before I even lived.

I flapped.

Weakly.

I flapped again.

The wind caught me, lifting me ever so slightly, enough to slow the drop, enough to give me a chance.

I flapped again.

And again.

And again.

Clumsy at first. Erratic. A struggle. But then—

I steadied.

I soared.

I was no longer falling.

I was flying.

—ToT—

I soared for weeks.

No, lived in the sky.

The world below was nothing but a distant blur of green and brown, unimportant and far away. I didn’t need trees. I didn’t need the ground. Everything I needed, I took from the air.

I ate mid-flight, snatching prey with talons that had grown sharp and deadly. I slept while drifting on the wind, riding the currents so effortlessly it felt like second nature. I lived in a realm where nothing could touch me.

And I grew.

At first, I was merely a large bird. Then, a massive one. Then… a legendary one.

When I stretched my wings, I cast shadows over entire regions. Villages would darken when I passed, people looking up in awe and fear.

I wasn’t just a bird.

I was something more.

I was… an Archaeopteryx.

I didn’t know how I knew that, but I did.

Humans had no way to reach me. They were small, earthbound creatures.

I was free.

Or so I thought.

The Monsters Below

It was supposed to be another peaceful day. Just another lazy flight across the sky, watching the ants below scurry about their little lives.

Then, I saw them.

A battle.

Two monsters in human skin, locked in combat that shook the very foundations of the land itself. One commanded a hulking fox, its nine tails whipping like living disasters, its roar splitting the heavens. The other?

A titan of wood, thousands of hands, moving as if they belonged to a god.

I had never seen anything like it.

I wanted to see more.

I wanted to understand.

So I swooped closer—

And never even saw it coming.

A sphere, massive, unstoppable, erased me from existence.

There was no pain.

No struggle.

Just nothingness.

The Mammoth

I awoke.

Not to the sky.

Not to the air.

But to solid earth.

To strength.

I stood—massive, heavy, mighty.

I was no longer prey.

I was no longer fragile.

I was power.

Thick fur covered my body, shielding me from even the harshest cold. My tusks—great, curving weapons—gleamed like ivory blades, capable of goring anything that dared challenge me. My legs? Pillars of strength, each step I took shaking the very earth beneath me.

For the first time, I wasn’t running.

For the first time, I wasn’t hiding.

I was unstoppable.

A Happy Life

And what a life it was.

The forests were mine. I roamed them like a king, unchallenged, unafraid. Wolves? Powerless. Predators? Nothing. Even the changing seasons couldn’t touch me.

I was strong.

I was free.

And most importantly—

I was happy.

Until they came.

The Hunters of the Strong

Not humans. Not the fragile ones I had known in past lives, the ones that scurried and hid. No, these were something else.

Something worse.

"Shinobi."

They weren’t hunting me for food. They weren’t killing me for survival.

They wanted something stupid.

"Daimyo decorations. Rare ivory."

I fought.

I fought.

I tore through them, my tusks swinging, my body crashing into trees, into the very earth itself.

But they… were not normal humans.

Lightning crackled through the air—

And I froze.

Pain like I had never known coursed through my veins. My body locked, my muscles betrayed me. My massive form collapsed, helpless, paralyzed, my own weight pressing down on me like a death sentence.

And they…

They butchered me.

Not for meat.

Not for survival.

For teeth.

For decoration.

And just like that…

Darkness.

The Cheetah

I woke up running.

I didn’t know why.

I didn’t know how.

But my legs were fast.

Blindingly fast.

The world blurred past me, wind whipping against my fur, paws barely touching the ground before they sprang forward again. Every movement was fluid, instinctual, effortless.

I was small again. Not towering. Not unmovable.

But I didn’t need to be.

Because nothing could catch me.

The Joy of Speed

Life as a cheetah was…

Amazing.

I had never felt so alive.

Gone were the days of moving like a behemoth, of shaking the earth with every step. Now, I was a ghost, a blur, a streak of gold cutting through the endless plains.

Nothing could reach me.

Not predators.

Not enemies.

Not even death.

… Or so I thought.

The Hunters Return

But they came again.

Not for survival.

Not for necessity.

For sport.

"Look at that one! Fastest I've ever seen!"

"Let's see if we can take it down!"

I ran.

God, I ran.

I pushed my body beyond its limits, heart hammering, legs burning, the wind screaming in my ears.

But then—

A sharp pain.

Something pierced my body—something cold, something final.

And just like that…

I fell.

I tumbled, my momentum crashing into itself, the world spinning as I hit the ground, rolling, rolling, rolling—

And then, I was still.

Their laughter echoed as my world faded.

And then…

Darkness.

When I opened my eyes again…

I was warm.

Comfortable.

Safe.

I moved—my limbs small, my paws unsteady, my tail wagging on its own, an instinct I didn’t understand.

I felt different.

Not wild.

Not alone.

But… domestic.

A sound reached my ears, familiar yet alien.

A voice.

"Oh! Look at you! What a cute little puppy!"

I was…

A dog.

—ToT—

I had never been loved before.

Not like this.

Not the quiet, patient love of a tree sheltering creatures without knowing them. Not the detached acceptance of a herd merely existing together. Not the fleeting joy of the wind as I soared.

This was warmth.

This was family.

The man and his wife took care of me, fed me, let me sleep inside their home. Their little daughter would hug me tight every night, burying her tiny hands in my fur, whispering things I didn’t understand but somehow felt.

They needed me.

And I needed them.

Then, war came.

They called it the First Great Shinobi War.

I didn’t understand what that meant, only that the man left one day with a deep frown and never came back.

The wife wept for weeks. The daughter stopped smiling.

So I stayed close.

I scared off bad men when they lurked too close. I barked at shadows. I was their protector, their last defense.

And then…

One day…

We were walking in the city.

The Assassins

They came out of nowhere.

Masked. Fast. Deadly.

"For Kumo!"

The words rang out like a curse, like the declaration of death itself.

Then—

Blood.

So much blood.

The wife fell first. The daughter screamed. The people around us were cut down, one by one, their bodies crumpling to the ground like discarded dolls.

I snapped.

I lunged.

I didn’t care if they had blades, jutsu, power beyond my understanding—I bit, I clawed, I fought.

But I was just a dog.

A single slash, and—

Darkness.

The Bird in the Storm

I awoke with the sea beneath me.

Waves crashed, the wind howled.

I flapped, struggling to stay afloat.

I was… a seagull?

For days, I soared over a small island, watching as people bustled about—red-haired people, strong and confident, untouched by fear.

Then—

War.

Fire.

Explosions.

Uzu was burning.

They came from every side. Three nations, descending like vultures, tearing through the island with merciless precision. No one was spared.

Men. Women. Children.

I flew overhead, helpless. A mere bird in the wake of destruction.

Before I died, I saw him.

The leader of the island. His robes tattered, his face filled with desperate hope.

He was hiding a little girl in a well.

Believing, foolishly, that it would save her.

Then, fire engulfed us all.

Endless Deaths

I was a horse.

Only to be killed at birth—lungs too weak to survive.

I was a chicken.

Only to be slaughtered days later.

I was a bird.

Only to have my wings clipped, to live in a cage, to die without ever flying again.

I was a tiger.

Hunted. Tracked. Killed.

By shinobi.

Again.

And again.

And again.

And then—

Nothing.

Darkness.

—ToT—

The Final Rebirth

I drifted in darkness.

Again.

But this time, something was different.

I could feel my body forming, piece by piece, cell by cell, until the shape of my existence became clear.

Four limbs.

A mammal, then.

No claws.

But—hands.

A primate?

That wasn’t new. I had been a chimpanzee before, a clever one. A gorilla once, too—powerful, towering.

But… something was different.

I wasn’t alone.

A presence.

Dark. Twisting. Suffocating.

Something was right beside me, within this womb.

For the first time in all my countless lives, I wasn’t being born alone.

What was it?

A sibling?

No. No, it didn’t feel like a brother or a sister.

It felt like a storm, caged and waiting.

I didn’t have time to think further.

Because birth was not easy.

It was pain.

More than any death I had experienced.

My head burned, my neck twisted, my shoulders yanked—

Was I dying again?

Had the shinobi learned how to hunt me before I was even born?

I had been crushed in eggs before. Ripped from wombs before I could breathe my first breath.

Was this the same?

No.

No—I was being born.

I felt it. The shift. The change.

Then—

Light.

Blinding, overwhelming, suffocating—

I screamed.

The Human Face

Voices.

"It's a boy, Minato!"

Wait.

What?

I barely had time to think before I was lifted. Hands touched me. Warm hands. Gentle hands.

Not claws. Not paws.

Hands.

I was placed in someone's arms.

And that’s when I saw him.

A man with golden hair, blue eyes shining with a happiness I had never seen before in another creature.

His smile burned into my newborn mind.

Why was he so happy?

What was I?

A pet? Had I been born in some human nursery? It wouldn't be the first time. I had been a dog once, raised by humans. Maybe I was some domesticated animal again—

Then.

Then she took me.

I knew her.

I knew that red hair, those sharp eyes, that feeling of something unbreakable and strong.

That presence.

The well.

Uzu.

The little girl the leader had hidden away, hoping—praying—that she would survive.

She had.

She had grown.

But she looked so tired.

So weak.

Sweat clung to her face, her breath uneven, but her hands were steady as she cradled me against her.

She patted my head.

And then she spoke.

"Welcome to this world, Naruto… my sweet little son."

I froze.

No.

No, that wasn’t right.

That wasn’t possible.

I wasn’t—

I couldn’t—

I was human.

The Weight of a Name

I had lived for thousands of years.

As a tree, unmoving and eternal.

As a fish, drifting through waters untouched by time.

As a fox, a mammoth, a tiger, a bird—as everything.

I had lived as beasts both great and small.

I had been hunted, butchered, burned alive, torn apart, used, and discarded.

But never—not once—had I been this.

A human.

A creature that had killed me more than any other.

And now—

Now I was one of them.

Now I had a name.

"Naruto."

A name given with love.

A name spoken with warmth.

A name that was mine.

And in that moment, wrapped in the arms of a woman who had once been a lost child in a well, staring up at the golden-haired man who had smiled at me like I was the most precious thing in the world—

I realized something.

I had spent lifetimes running.

From death. From humans. From the never-ending cycle of pain that had followed me across every existence.

But now?

For the first time in all my lives…

I had stopped.

—ToT—

None of my past mothers had ever looked at me like this.

Not the birds who left their eggs to the mercy of the wind. Not the foxes who buried their cubs in dens and disappeared. Not the elephants, not the wolves, not the deer or the lions.

I was always born, but never wanted.

Always alive, but never truly belonging.

Mothers birthed me, then turned away, their instincts satisfied. Their duty was done.

So I expected the same.

That they would leave me in some den, some nursery, some corner where I would grow on my own.

But no.

They stayed.

They tended me.

They laughed.

They smiled.

"Look, Kushina, he doesn’t cry!" the golden-haired man—my father?—said with a bright, boyish grin.

"He's smart like his mom, dattebane!"

Dattebane?

What was dattebane?

"He only has your hair and eyes, Kushina, but he is his daddy’s son. Ne, Naruto?"

They were talking to me.

Not to each other.

To me.

I stared.

I had never been spoken to before.

Not like this.

Then—

Something happened.

The Fall

I was suddenly falling.

Fast.

But—humans couldn’t fly.

I flailed. My tiny limbs, my new body, my useless hands—

Then, I was caught.

A firm grip. Strong arms.

Not father’s.

A new face. A mask.

Something sharp, cold, pressed to my neck.

A blade.

I had been hunted before.

But never like this.

"Give me the Jinchūriki, Yondaime, or you lose your child."

A shinobi.

Of course.

The Unknown Battle

Things happened too fast.

Too fast for me to understand.

A flash of yellow.

A sharp shift in space.

And suddenly—

I was alone.

A dark, empty room.

My father’s voice. "I'll be back, son."

Then, a blur.

And he was.

The Final Moments

My mother was exhausted.

She was weak.

I felt it.

The dark presence that had been inside her—

It was gone.

The cage beside me in the womb had been emptied.

She held me close.

I felt her heartbeat, slowing, struggling, yet strong.

I closed my eyes.

And for the first time in all my lives…

I let myself rest.

—ToT—

One moment, I was safe.

Wrapped in warmth, held close, my tiny body pressed against my mother’s chest.

The next—

I was alone.

In an open field, surrounded by the flickering glow of candles.

A ritual.

And before me—

A monster.

A titan of fire and fury, fur the color of hellfire, eyes like molten gold, tails swaying like weapons of war.

A beast.

But not just any beast.

A fox.

A fox with nine tails.

Kyuubi.

I didn't know how I knew that name, but I did.

And he was chained.

Golden links of chakra wrapped around his body, binding him in place.

The source of those chains?

Mother.

She was exhausted, but still standing, still fighting, her very body forging the shackles that held the beast in place.

And then—

Father moved.

His hands danced, weaving signs that made the very air tremble.

I froze.

Because I saw him.

The Reaper

I had never feared death.

I had lived a thousand lives.

I had died a thousand times.

Burned. Drowned. Eaten. Torn apart. Crushed.

I had known the embrace of the void more than I had known the warmth of life.

But when the Shinigami appeared, I knew.

I knew who he was.

How? I had no idea.

But I knew.

This was not a natural death.

This was finality incarnate.

This was power beyond the cycle of life and death.

And as I watched, his spectral hand plunged into the fox, tearing something away—

The beast howled, part of its very essence ripped from its soul—

And my father—

The golden-haired man who had smiled at me, who had held me, who had called me his son—

Took that burden into himself.

A mark burned into his flesh.

The first sacrifice.

But not the last.

The End of a Family

My father turned.

More hand signs. More power.

And I watched as the great fox realized what was coming.

"NO! I WILL NOT BE SEALED IN THAT CHILD!"

The fox roared, golden chains snapping under sheer rage—

And its massive claw came crashing down.

Straight at me.

I did not move.

Not because I couldn’t—but because I did not fear it.

I had died before.

This would be no different.

But—

They moved.

Both of them.

Mother and Father.

They threw themselves in front of me, shielding my body with their own.

The claw pierced through them.

Blood—

A single drop landed on my forehead.

And then—

Silence.

"Oh, dear," my father sighed. His voice was gentle, as if he were merely accepting a small misfortune. "I guess this is it for us both."

Blood dripped from my mother's lips. But she smiled.

"Naruto," she whispered, "Papa and Mama have to go now. But don’t be sad, we’ll be watching you."

Something stirred in my chest.

A feeling I didn’t understand.

What was this weight in my heart?

This ache in my throat?

"Don’t be a rude person," my father said. "Be humble and a good person."

Humble. Good.

"Be loyal to your principles and love your morals."

Loyalty. Morals.

"Never eat too much or too little, bathe daily, eat healthy… and Ramen! Don’t waste money and remember the Three Prohibitions of Shinobi. Be wary of women and find a nice girl for yourself, like me, dattebane!"

Dattebane…?

Ramen?

"Respect your elders, have a beautiful dream, and chase after it no matter what others say."

A dream?

"Gain acknowledgement with hard work and prove everyone wrong."

Hard work.

Acknowledgement.

"Help others. Be kind."

Kind.

And then—

"And remember that Papa and Mama will always love you no matter what!"

Love.

The thing I had never known.

The thing I had never felt.

"We love you, Naruto!" they said together.

The words wrapped around me like warmth on a cold night.

And for the first time in thousands of years—

I wanted to live.

Not as a tree.

Not as a beast.

Not as a nameless, wandering soul caught in the cycle of life and death.

But as Naruto Uzumaki.

Their son.

And as the warmth of their lives faded, leaving me alone in the world they had died to protect—

I finally understood.

I was no longer just a soul drifting through endless rebirths.

No longer just a creature of instincts and survival.

I was a human.

And I had something to live for.

Chapter Text

Meaning of Hokage

My parents were dead.

The warmth that had cradled me, the hands that had shielded me, the voices that had spoken to me with love—

Gone.

And in their place, there was only an old man.

He picked me up, holding me carefully, like I was something fragile.

I had never been fragile before.

Not as a tree, its roots deep in the earth.
Not as a fox, swift and cunning.
Not as a dinosaur, strong and unshaken.

But now—

Now, I was small. Weak. Helpless.

He carried me away from the battlefield. Away from the ruined land where my parents' blood stained the earth.

The village came into view. Tall walls. High towers. A place meant to protect.

It felt like a cage.

A Different Kind of Hospital

I was taken to a hospital.

I had been in one before.

As a dog, taken to the vet, whining as the humans poked and prodded me.

As a fox, wounded by hunters, lying on a cold metal table.

As a cheetah, my leg broken in a fight, feeling the sting of antiseptic.

But this was different.

This hospital was… quiet.

Too quiet.

The air smelled like medicine and something too clean to be natural.

I was placed in a crib. The blankets were soft. The room was warm.

But it felt empty.

No mother nearby to watch over me. No pack to curl up against. No herd, no den, no pride, no flock.

Just me.

I stared at the ceiling, eyes heavy, body exhausted.

Eventually—

I fell asleep.

—ToT—

Hunger

I woke up with an unbearable emptiness in my stomach.

It was a familiar sensation.

I had felt it before—

As a fish, struggling in a pond too cold for food to be plentiful.
As a fox, starving through a harsh winter, ribs pressing against my skin.
As a cheetah, running for days without a meal, body withering from exhaustion.

But this—

This hunger was different.

Because this time, I couldn't do anything about it.

I couldn't hunt.
I couldn't forage.
I couldn't move beyond the weak kicks of my tiny legs.

All I could do was cry.

And so, I did.

The door opened.

A woman in white walked in. A nurse.

She carried a tray filled with bottles, their milky contents promising relief.

There were others like me.

Other babies.

Some cried, some slept, some kicked their blankets.

And like a practiced routine, the nurse went to each one, pressing bottles to their tiny mouths, feeding them gently, whispering soft words.

I waited.

She was coming closer.

My tiny hands curled into fists, my stomach twisted.

Feed me. Please.

But—

She walked past me.

I blinked.

I watched as she moved to the next crib, feeding another baby, rocking them in her arms.

Then another.

Then another.

And still—

I was ignored.

Why?

I didn't understand.

Why?

Was I not hungry like the rest?

Was I different?

Had I done something wrong?

I opened my mouth, letting out a wail, demanding attention.

Nothing.

She never even glanced at me.

I cried louder.

She simply left the room.

And I was alone.

With nothing but the sound of my own hunger.

Days passed.

The room that was once filled with cries and quiet breathing became emptier.

One by one, the babies disappeared.

Strangers—men and women—came into the hospital.

Soft whispers. Careful hands. Some smiling, some crying.

I listened.

I watched.

They murmured words I barely understood.

"Orphan."
"Poor child."
"They’ll have a better life now."
"They deserve a home."

And just like that—

One by one, the cribs emptied.

I waited.

Surely, someone would come for me too.

Surely, someone would pick me up, hold me close, whisper to me like they did to the others. I was once a sick stray kitten— children showered me with love— that was a cozy life. Surely, someone would come for me.

But—

They never did.

Eventually—

It was only me.

The once full room was now silent.

No more soft coos of nurses.
No more shifting blankets.
No more tiny cries of hunger.

Just me.

And yet—

I was still here.

Still unwanted.

Still not adopted.

The realization was slow, creeping in like the cold breeze that slipped through the window.

No one was coming for me.

I wasn’t chosen.

I wasn’t wanted.

I was… alone.
—ToT—
The door creaked open.

For a moment, I thought it was another stranger coming to take me away.

But it wasn’t.

It was him.

The old man.

The one who had carried me from that battlefield, from my parents’ arms.

He stepped into the empty room, his eyes scanning the rows of abandoned cribs until they landed on me.

A sigh left his lips. Not of annoyance, not of frustration—something softer.

"So they left you alone, huh?" he murmured.

Then, he picked me up.

His arms were warm.

I hadn’t been held since that night.

His grip was steady, his hands careful as he cradled me close.

I stared up at him, blinking slowly.

Who was he?

And why—why was he the only one kind to me?

As he carried me out of the hospital, I heard his mutterings.

"Nurse grudges..."
"Child abuse in my village..."
"Unforgivable. Execution will be necessary."

I didn’t understand all of it.

But I understood enough.

The nurses hated me.

They had left me to starve on purpose.

They had taken care of the other babies, but not me.

They had let me suffer. On purpose.

I had been abandoned before—left to fend for myself as a tree, a fox, a fish.

But this?

This was different.

Because this time, it wasn’t nature’s way.

It was cruelty.

I clung to the old man’s robes, instinct telling me that he was the only safe thing in this world right now.

He took me somewhere else. A small house.

Not grand. Not cold like the hospital. Just... small.

Warm.

He sat me down and fed me.

Real food. Not from a bottle forced into my mouth, not scraps I had to scavenge for.

I ate.

And as I did, I listened.

People outside whispered, murmuring as they passed.

"Hokage-sama is taking care of him?"
"Why does Hokage-sama even bother?"
"The demon brat should've been left to rot."

Hokage-sama.

They called him that.

Hokage.

I looked up at the old man as he smiled down at me, patience in his eyes, kindness in his touch.

What was a Hokage?

Was it another word for kind old man?

Perhaps.

Yes.

Hokage must mean kind old man.

—ToT—

I was tended to a lot.

Or not at all.

It depended on the life.

As a lone creature, I had no choice but to fend for myself. As a tree, I simply existed, left to grow or wither by the whims of the world. As a fish, a fox, a mammoth, a cheetah—I had learned what it meant to survive alone.

But when I was part of a herd, things were different.

The olders looked after the young. The strong protected the weak. The pride watched over its cubs.

That was nature.

But humans?

Humans were... unpredictable.

Some raised their young with warmth, with care, with laughter. Others abandoned them. Others hurt them for no reason at all.

I had seen both.

And now, I was experiencing it firsthand.

I was left in a small apartment.

Not cold, not warm. Just… there.

A crib in the middle of a room. Blank walls. A single window with a curtain that never quite blocked out the light.

I wasn't alone, though.

Humans with wooden animal masks came and went, appearing and disappearing like ghosts.

ANBU, they called themselves.

They fed me.

They changed me.

They cleaned me.

They made sure I didn't die.

But beyond that?

There was nothing.

No laughter. No smiles. No warm embraces.

They did what was required, and then they left.

It wasn’t cruelty.

But it wasn’t love either.

It was duty.

They were looking after me because someone told them to, not because they wanted to.

And I understood that.

I had been fed before by creatures that didn't care if I lived or died. A mother bear that fed her cubs but wouldn't hesitate to leave the weakest behind. A lioness that nursed me but only because her instincts told her to, not because she loved me.

This was no different.

But still—

One stood out.

One always lingered longer than the others.

One always looked at me in a way I couldn’t quite understand.

Inu.

The ANBU with the silver hair.

The one with one dark eye and one red one.

I didn't know what the red eye meant. I had never seen anything like it in any of my lives. It glowed faintly behind his mask, strange, unnatural.

But that wasn’t what caught my attention the most.

It was his gaze.

Even though I couldn't see his full face, I could feel it.

A kind of sadness.

Not pity.

Not disgust.

Just… sorrow.

Why?

I didn’t know.

But I knew what sorrow looked like.

I had seen it before.

In a dying elephant’s eyes as it lay down for the last time, leaving its herd behind.
In a wolf who lost its mate, howling at the moon in mourning.
In a mother bird watching her fallen chick, unable to do anything.

It was the kind of sadness that settled deep in the bones. The kind that didn’t fade.

And Inu?

He carried that sadness every time he looked at me.

I didn’t know what to make of it.

But I knew one thing.

Among all the ANBU, among all the strangers who came and went, among all the masked ghosts that tended to me and then vanished—

He was the only one who saw me.

—ToT—

Sometimes, there was the dark presence inside me.

The fox.

The Kyuubi.

The creature sealed inside me by my father, Minato Namikaze.

I didn’t know if it was a male or a female—it had no physical traits that told me either way. It was just... there. A massive, seething entity of malice and chakra, caged within the deepest parts of my mind.

And I had a mental space.

That was new.

I had never had something like that before.

Not as an animal, not as a tree, not even as a human in my past lives.

It was like a dream that wasn’t a dream. A world within my own head, stretching endlessly in dark, murky passageways.

A sewer.

Cold. Damp. The sound of dripping water echoed through the emptiness, creating an eerie, rhythmic beat. The walls were wet, slick with something I didn’t want to name. The air was thick, heavy, carrying the scent of something ancient and angry.

And at the center of it all—

A cage.

Massive.

Bigger than any structure I had ever seen, stretching so high that I couldn't see where it ended.

I had been in cages before.

I had been locked in a zoo, pacing behind metal bars as humans gawked at me.
I had been trapped in a circus, forced to perform tricks for amusement.
I had been shoved into a wooden crate in a pet shop, waiting to be sold.

But this?

This was unlike anything I had ever experienced.

This wasn’t just confinement.

This was imprisonment.

A place designed not just to hold—but to keep something away from the world.

And behind those bars...

A creature.

Not just a fox.

A beast.

Nine tails curled behind its hulking body, flicking lazily, yet crackling with power. Red fur bristling with raw energy. Claws like daggers, teeth like spears. Eyes—slitted, glowing with rage.

Kyuubi.

That was its name. The ANBU, the old man, the villagers—they all spoke of it in whispers, in curses, in fear.

The monster that had killed my parents.

The demon that had nearly destroyed the village.

The thing that now lived inside me.

I was just a baby.

I couldn't speak.

I couldn’t form words, couldn't ask the things I wanted to.

But I stared.

Every time I was pulled into that sewer, every time my consciousness slipped into that space, I sat before the massive cage and watched the beast within.

And it hated me.

It lunged.

It snarled.

It roared, slamming its claws against the bars, trying to rip through, trying to reach me.

Its malice was suffocating, filling every inch of my mind.

It wanted me dead.

But I didn’t flinch.

I didn’t cry.

I wasn’t afraid.

I was merely... curious.

Because this creature. This thing.

It had killed my parents.

Why?

I wanted to ask.

I wanted to know.

Had it chosen to do so? Had it wanted to?

Or had it simply been like me?

A tool. A weapon. A being forced into something it had no control over.

Because I had seen it before.

The way humans used others.

They had used me, time and time again.

As a horse, forced to carry loads until I collapsed.
As a cheetah, hunted for sport.
As a mammoth, killed for my tusks.
As a bird, wiped from the sky by powers far greater than me.

Was this fox the same?

Was it just another creature trapped by human hands, forced into a battle it never chose?

I didn't know.

And for now—

It didn’t matter.

Because no matter how much I watched it, no matter how many times I was pulled into this mental space, the Kyuubi never stopped trying to kill me.

And I just kept staring back.

Sometimes, random people would sneak into my apartment.

Sometimes it was a drunkard, stumbling in the dark, his breath reeking of alcohol and hatred.
Sometimes it was a shinobi, moving with silent precision, his blade already drawn before he even reached me.
Sometimes it was a civilian, their face twisted with grief, rage, and something even worse—desperation.

They all had different faces, different voices, different reasons.

But their goal was always the same.

They came to kill me.

I was barely more than a toddler, still learning to walk without stumbling, still figuring out how to use my hands for more than just grabbing.

And yet—

They came with knives.

With kunai.

With weapons meant to take my life.

And they always yelled.

Screamed about things I didn’t understand but was starting to comprehend.

“You took my son from me!”

“Demon brat!”

“Because of you, my wife is gone! My daughter is gone! My clan is gone!”

It was the fox.

That’s what they all said.

They didn’t see me. Not really.

They saw it.

The Kyuubi. The monster that tore through their lives, that ripped apart families, that left them with nothing but a gaping, bleeding void.

And I—I housed it.

How?

I didn’t know.

I was so small, barely the size of a housecat.

How could something as massive as the Kyuubi fit inside me?

It didn’t make sense.

But then again, nothing in this world did.

The first time it happened, I didn’t understand.

I was in my crib, drowsy, the room dimly lit by the moon shining through the window. I heard the door creak open.

Soft footsteps.

A shadow loomed over me.

A whisper.

“I’ll end this now.”

Then—

A flash of silver.

The cold glint of a kunai, raised high, poised to strike.

But before the blade could come down—

They arrived.

ANBU.

The masked watchers who had been in my life from the very start.

They moved so fast that I barely even registered what had happened.

One moment, the man was standing over me.

The next—

Blood splattered across the walls.

His body collapsed in a heap beside my crib, his empty, unseeing eyes still locked onto me.

Dead.

I stared.

Not crying. Not flinching. Not reacting at all.

Because... this was not new.

I had seen death before.

I had died before.

So I simply sat there, gazing at the man who had tried to end me, wondering why.

But ANBU didn’t wonder.

They acted.

“Failure.” One of them muttered.

Then they removed the body. Cleaned the blood. Left no trace.

Like it never happened.

But it did.

And it kept happening.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Sometimes it was a single attacker.
Sometimes it was two or three.
One time, an entire group stormed in, thinking numbers would make a difference.

It didn’t.

The ANBU always came.

And they always killed.

And I...

I always watched.

I sat in my crib, or on the cold wooden floor, staring as my would-be killers fell before me.

Their eyes always locked onto me, wide and filled with something bitter and ugly as their lives bled out onto the floor.

And still—I never flinched.

I just... observed.

The way the blood pooled beneath them.
The way their bodies twitched before going still.
The way their final breath always shuddered out of them like a dying wind.

It wasn’t fear that kept me still.

It was something else.

Understanding.

Because these people weren’t killers.

Not truly.

They weren’t like the shinobi who had hunted me as a cheetah, who had skinned me and taken my fur for their trophies.
They weren’t like the man with red eyes and black hair who had tested his power on me when I was a dinosaur.
They weren’t even like the shinobi who had killed me as a mammoth for my tusks, greed gleaming in their eyes.

No.

These people were something different.

They were... broken.

Grieving.

Lost.

Their hatred was not born from greed, or sport, or hunger.

It was born from pain.

They had lost something.

Someone.

And they saw me as the reason for that loss.

They thought that if they killed me, the wound in their heart would finally close. That the gaping emptiness inside them would finally be filled.

But it wouldn’t.

I knew that.

I had been them before.

I had been the mother mammoth who watched her calf be speared to death.
I had been the dog who lost his owner and lashed out in blind rage.
I had been the seagull who saw an entire island burned to nothing, who screamed into the sky as my world collapsed.

I knew what grief was.

I knew what loss was.

And I knew—this would never end.

Not as long as I carried the fox inside me.

Not as long as people looked at me and saw it instead.

So I stared.

And the ANBU killed.

And the bodies were taken away.

And the cycle continued.

Chapter Text

Masked Faces

It took some time, but I eventually managed to stand in my crib by grabbing onto the wooden railings.

Wobbly at first. My legs felt weak, like they weren't used to carrying weight. Which made sense—I had barely used them before.

But I had walked before.

As a fox.

As a dog.

As a mammoth.

I had run through forests, plains, and mountains. I had galloped across the earth with thunderous steps. I had climbed trees and sprinted through underbrush.

So why was this so hard?

I gritted my teeth—or I would have, if I had any—and tried again.

My tiny fingers gripped the railing. My chubby legs tensed. I pulled myself up.

My knees wobbled. My feet slid against the mattress.

But I didn't fall.

I stood.

For the first time in this new life, I was upright.

It wasn't much.

But it was something.

And as I stood there, gripping the crib's railing, I felt something unfamiliar yet strangely familiar stir within me.

A flicker of something deep in my chest.

Not fear.

Not sadness.

Not anger.

Something else.

Something I had felt once, long ago, in a body much larger than this one.

When I was a mammoth, standing tall and strong against the biting cold.

When I was a bird, soaring high above the world, untouchable and free.

It was pride.

I had done it.

I had stood.

And if I could stand—

Then I could walk.

—ToT—

Yuagō Uzui, or Neko as she was known in ANBU, watched the baby from her usual spot in the shadows of his small apartment.

She had been assigned to protect Naruto Uzumaki for months now, and in that time, she had come to one simple conclusion—

This child was strange.

Not in a "he has a demon sealed inside him" way. No, that was already common knowledge. What unsettled her was something far more subtle.

Naruto never cried.

Well, almost never. He cried when he was hungry. He cried when his diapers needed changing.

But that was it.

No tantrums. No random fits of distress.

Nothing.

Even when he should have.

She had been there when an intruder—a shinobi drunk off his ass, slurring curses about the Kyuubi—had tried to kill him.

She had been seconds away from intervening when Inu, her fellow ANBU, had appeared and cut the bastard down in a single, clean motion.

And Naruto?

The one-year-old baby who had just been inches away from death?

He had just stared.

Not in shock.

Not in fear.

Not even in confusion.

Just curiosity.

As if watching a man die before him was nothing more than an interesting event.

That was what made Neko uneasy.

She had told her comrades about it, and they had all agreed—Naruto Uzumaki was not like other children.

"I killed a man that was going to stab him—in front of him," an ANBU operative had said. "He was just... staring. No fear, just... curiosity. He's a baby, shouldn't he cry a bit?"

"Maybe it's the Kyuubi's influence?" another had suggested.

But Neko didn't think so.

This wasn't the unnatural malice of a tailed beast. This was something else.

Something older.

But it wasn't her job to understand it. It was her job to protect him.

And right now, it was her shift.

No need to overthink it.

She watched over him at night, crouched in the shadows, her porcelain mask blending into the dim candlelight.

It was routine by now. Stand guard. Protect the child. Erase threats. Repeat.

But despite the cold efficiency drilled into her as an ANBU, despite the mask that was supposed to keep emotions locked away, she found herself pitying him.

Naruto Uzumaki, son of the Fourth Hokage, vessel of the Nine-Tailed Fox, orphaned before he could even say their names.

Sleeping alone in a crib too big for his small form, in an apartment too empty for someone so young.

He didn't know loneliness yet.

But he would.

Her golden eyes softened behind her mask as she stepped closer, kneeling beside the crib.

His breathing was slow, steady. Peaceful.

A rare moment.

His red hair—vibrant like his mother's, unruly like his father's—had grown longer, strands curling over his chubby face.

He needs a haircut.

The thought was strangely domestic, almost out of place. ANBU didn't worry about things like that.

And yet, her gloved fingers twitched with the ridiculous urge to brush his hair back, to do something—anything—to offer him a small comfort he'd never receive from the villagers who feared him.

She sighed, straightening. Her shift wasn't over.

Tomorrow, she'd mention the haircut to Inu. Maybe he'd handle it.

—ToT—

Kakashi avoided looking at the crib.

He stood by the window, arms crossed, mask secure, eyes locked on the moonlit streets of Konoha instead.

He couldn't look.

Couldn't let his gaze drift even once toward the tiny bundle sleeping in the crib.

Naruto Uzumaki.

Minato-sensei's son.

His sensei. His mentor. His father figure.

Dead.

Kushina. The woman who had scolded him, fed him, made sure he ate his vegetables, ruffled his hair like he was still a kid—

Dead.

And all that was left of them was this baby.

A baby who had his mother's hair, his father's eyes—his father's bright, kind, stupidly optimistic eyes.

Eyes that Kakashi would never be able to meet.

Because if he did, he would break.

And ANBU didn't break.

He was supposed to guard this child. Protect him from the threats lurking in the dark corners of Konoha, from the people who saw a monster instead of a baby.

And yet.

He couldn't even bring himself to stand near him.

He always chose the farthest corner of the room. Always took the highest perch. Always made sure the shadows swallowed him whole, just out of reach, just distant enough that he didn't have to see the resemblance.

Didn't have to see the ghosts of the people he had failed.

So when Neko mentioned Naruto's hair was getting long, that someone should cut it—

Kakashi had barely nodded. Barely acknowledged the words.

Because if he got close, if he touched the child, if he let himself care—

He would be right back in that night, watching his sensei die all over again.

Unfortunately, Inu lost the game.

It was a simple game of chance—one that he should've been able to win, considering his skills, experience, and sheer luck.

But no.

He lost.

And now he was stuck with this ridiculous punishment.

Cutting Naruto Uzumaki's hair.

Kakashi sighed, running a gloved hand through his own silver strands as he looked down at the toddler. Naruto sat in a small chair, legs too short to touch the ground, staring blankly ahead like he wasn't even there.

It was strange how still he was.

Most kids his age fidgeted, whined, cried, or something. But Naruto just… sat. Watching the abyss like it might swallow him whole.

Kakashi ignored the feeling of unease curling in his stomach and got to work.

He unsheathed a pair of scissors, their sharp edges gleaming under the dim light of the apartment. The soft snipping sounds filled the air.

Cach. Cach. Cach.

Strands of red hair fell to the floor, pooling around Naruto's feet.

Still, the boy didn't move. Didn't blink.

He just sat there, completely silent, letting Kakashi do whatever he wanted.

It was unnerving.

"Alright, done," Kakashi muttered, brushing stray hairs off Naruto's shoulders before pulling out a small mirror from his pouch. He placed it in front of the boy.

And then—

Naruto's eyes widened.

Kakashi blinked.

Oh.

Naruto had never seen his own reflection before.

The toddler stared, completely transfixed by the image staring back at him.

His small hands reached forward, pressing against the cool glass. Fingers tracing over his own face, his cheeks, his nose, his mouth—like he couldn't quite believe it was real.

Those glowing sapphire eyes were the most striking thing of all.

Kakashi had noticed them before, of course. Naruto had inherited Minato's bright blue gaze, but there was something… unnatural about them. They glowed.

Even in complete darkness.

Even without a single source of light.

It wasn't normal.

It wasn't even animalistic—some creatures had eyes that reflected light, but this? This was different.

And it wasn't just his eyes.

His skin, too, was almost unnaturally bright. Pale, like it caught every bit of light and held onto it.

Kakashi narrowed his eyes.

That would be a problem.

Glowing eyes and luminous skin? That was a death sentence for a shinobi. Stealth missions required blending into the shadows, disappearing into the night.

Naruto?

Naruto would stand out like a lantern in the dark.

As the boy continued staring at himself, completely enraptured, Kakashi sighed heavily and crossed his arms.

"Alright, we get it. You're pretty," he muttered. "But don't go becoming a narcissist, kid."

Naruto didn't react.

Didn't even look at him.

He just kept staring at his reflection, mesmerized.

Kakashi watched as the toddler pressed a single finger to the mirror, right over his own glowing eye, tilting his head slightly.

And for the first time, there was something in his gaze.

Something distant. Something old.

Kakashi didn't like it.

Something about this kid wasn't right.

No one could explain it.

Not even the ANBU, the best-trained elite of Konoha, those who had seen the darkest corners of humanity, the most bizarre bloodlines, and the strangest chakra phenomena.

But this?

This was something else.

Butterflies.

Flies.

Dragonflies.

Bumblebees.

Beetles.

All sorts of insects gathered around Naruto Uzumaki.

It wasn't just a few curious bugs, either.

It was swarms.

Every single day, they would enter the apartment through any crack or opening they could find, fluttering around like tiny, silent watchers.

And it wasn't just insects.

Snakes came too.

Slithering in through the vents, slipping under doors, curling up near the crib, or wrapping around the chair legs.

At first, the ANBU stationed in Naruto's apartment dismissed it as a simple coincidence. The place was near the outskirts of the civilian district, surrounded by patches of trees. It wasn't that unusual for insects to wander in.

But then, they noticed something.

The creatures never left.

They didn't just pass through or land randomly.

They stayed.

And they watched.

The insects perched on the crib, on the window sills, on the ceiling. The snakes coiled silently in the corners of the room, their tongues flicking out in slow, measured movements.

They never harmed him.

Never bit, never stung, never crawled over him aggressively.

They just… came.

And they stared.

It was unsettling.

Yuago Uzui—Neko—was the first to report it, but the others quickly confirmed her observations. No matter who was on duty, the creatures always returned.

At first, the ANBU tried getting rid of them.

They swatted the insects away, set up barriers, tossed the snakes out the window.

It didn't matter.

They always came back.

And when a black mamba slithered into the room, curling itself at the foot of Naruto's crib, that was when they called the Hokage.

They were ANBU, highly trained assassins, but this? This was above their pay grade.

Sarutobi Hiruzen arrived not long after, clad in his Hokage robes, flanked by two of his own personal guards.

As soon as he stepped inside, he noticed it.

The presence.

Naruto's crib sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by creatures. Fireflies blinked in and out of sight. Dragonflies hovered in still air. Ants crawled in uniform lines along the wooden floor.

And the snakes…

The snakes just watched.

Hiruzen stepped forward cautiously.

Naruto was awake, small and quiet, sitting up in his crib. His sapphire eyes—those unnatural, glowing eyes—stared back at him.

No fear.

No distress.

Just calm curiosity.

The baby wasn't bothered.

Not by the insects, not by the snakes, not by the presence of so many living things crowding the small apartment.

If anything…

It felt like he didn't even register it as strange.

Hiruzen studied the baby carefully.

And then, he reached out with his chakra.

And he understood.

Naruto's chakra wasn't just potent.

It wasn't just overflowing, or brimming with potential, or even influenced by the Kyuubi.

It was natural.

Not in the sense of raw chakra reserves.

No.

Naruto's chakra was Nature itself.

The insects, the snakes, the creatures—they weren't just drawn to him.

They recognized him.

Like he was a part of the earth, the trees, the wild.

Like he wasn't human at all.

If a blind sensor had been placed in this room, they wouldn't have been able to distinguish Naruto from the nature surrounding him.

It was bizarre.

Even terrifying.

A human child with the chakra signature of the natural world itself?

Hiruzen furrowed his brows.

Was it the Kyuubi?

Perhaps.

The beast had always been an embodiment of raw power, its chakra overwhelming and impossibly alive.

But this?

This wasn't the Kyuubi's influence.

The fox's chakra was malice. Hatred. A force that repelled, that burned, that devoured everything in its path.

Naruto's chakra was not that.

It was welcoming.

The earth breathed around him.

The insects danced in his presence.

The natural world whispered in ways even the greatest sages would envy.

Hiruzen's lips pressed into a thin line.

He had seen many things in his long life.

But this?

This was something new.

—ToT—

Orochimaru had always been drawn to the unknown.

The strange, the unnatural, the impossible.

And when he first heard the reports from the ANBU, detailing the phenomenon surrounding Naruto Uzumaki, his interest had been piqued.

A baby whose chakra attracted insects and snakes like a beacon?

A human child whose presence was so deeply tied to nature that even a blind sensor wouldn't be able to distinguish him from the earth itself?

That was not something that could be ignored.

That was something to be studied.

To be examined.

To be understood.

But Hiruzen—his foolish, sentimental sensei—had outright forbidden it.

"No."

That had been the only response.

A single word, final and immovable.

Hiruzen had looked at him with a sharp, unwavering gaze.

"No, Orochimaru. You will not experiment on a child."

It was infuriating.

How could he be so short-sighted?

How could he refuse to see the opportunity before them?

Naruto Uzumaki was not a normal child.

Even without the Kyuubi, his very existence defied normality.

Something about him was different.

Something about him was unique.

Orochimaru needed to know why.

So, naturally, he had tried to gather information himself.

A simple test.

Nothing drastic, nothing dangerous.

A small DNA sample.

A single strand of hair, perhaps.

Just enough to analyze.

To confirm.

But he couldn't even get close.

The ANBU had the apartment on lockdown.

A constant, unrelenting presence.

They swarmed the area twenty-four seven, guards shifting out with military precision.

He had even tried sending in his best operatives, but they returned with nothing.

Not a single hair.

Not a single trace.

Naruto Uzumaki was being protected.

And that was when Orochimaru realized.

Hiruzen hadn't just refused his request on moral grounds.

No.

He had refused because he already suspected something.

Something important.

Something worth protecting.

And that meant only one thing.

Naruto Uzumaki was even more special than he first thought.

A child with a sealed Bijuu was already a rarity.

But a Jinchuriki whose chakra attracted and connected to the natural world?

That was completely unheard of.

And so, Orochimaru waited.

He observed.

He watched from the shadows, gathering information where he could.

But the opportunity never came.

The ANBU never faltered.

The Hokage never relented.

Naruto Uzumaki remained untouched.

It was frustrating.

Infuriating.

But Orochimaru was nothing if not patient.

And so, when the time finally came for him to leave Konoha—to abandon it all in pursuit of true knowledge—he set his goals carefully.

The Sharingan.

And the mystery of Naruto Uzumaki.

He would discover the truth.

No matter how long it took.

To Be Continued

Chapter Text

Naruto Uzumaki was three years old, and he only said one thing.

"Dattebane."

If someone asked him a question—Dattebane.

If someone gave him food—Dattebane.

If he stubbed his toe, tripped, or got startled—Dattebane.

It was the only word he knew.

The ANBU tried to teach him others.

They sat with him, held up objects, and repeated their names.

"Apple."

"Shoes."

"Chair."

And yet, his only response was always...

"Dattebane."

No one knew why.

Not really.

They all had suspicions, of course.

Kakashi had the strongest.

Because he knew that word.

It had belonged to someone precious.

Kushina Uzumaki.

Her verbal tic.

A part of her that she had always carried, always blurted out, always lived by.

And now, her son—a child who had never even met her, who should not even remember her—was saying it over and over again.

Kakashi didn’t believe in ghosts, but if they did exist, he was pretty sure Kushina was haunting them all through her reincarnated little boy.

Still, he said nothing.

Nothing about Kushina.

Nothing about Minato.

Nothing about the word.

Because what could he say?

What could he possibly explain?

That Naruto had inherited a memory he shouldn’t have?

That deep inside him, some fragment of Kushina had latched onto his soul, refusing to let go?

It wasn’t logical.

It wasn’t scientific.

But it was the only thing that made sense.

And it hurt.

Kakashi had never been the sentimental type, but every time he heard that little voice say “Dattebane,” it was like a kunai straight to the gut.

It was a wound that refused to heal.

Still, he kept it to himself.

He ignored the ache.

He focused on the mission.

Because rules were rules.

Naruto was growing.

He was walking now.

Running.

Exploring.

He had been given a bed instead of a crib.

He was learning how to feed himself, how to use the bathroom, how to exist.

And when he reached a point where he could fully take care of himself, he would be discharged from ANBU surveillance.

That was the rule.

That had always been the rule.

No matter how much it bothered them.

No matter how much they had grown attached.

Once Naruto could survive on his own, they would leave.

They would vanish like they had never even been there.

And he would be alone.

But for now?

For now, they still watched.

Still protected.

Still listened to that tiny voice saying—

"Dattebane.”

—ToT—

Naruto Uzumaki was three years old when he realized he wasn’t like other humans.

For starters, he could understand animals.

Not just the usual way—not body language, not sounds, not trained commands.

No, he understood them.

It wasn’t talking.

Not exactly.

It was like... feeling their emotions, knowing what they meant.

It had always been there, this connection, but it wasn’t until he actually thought about it that he noticed how strange it was.

Because he had been an animal before.

Many times.

And back then, it had been normal to understand his own kind.

Dogs understood dogs.

Birds understood birds.

Even when he had been a cactus, he had felt the whispers of the wind, the sun’s warmth, the slow stretch of his roots in the dry sand.

But never—not once—had he been able to understand humans.

And yet, now, as a human child, he could understand everything.

Humans.

Animals.

The world itself.

It was odd.

But Naruto had long since learned that questioning too much only made things complicated.

So he simply accepted it.

He was human.

His name was Naruto Uzumaki.

His hair was red.

His eyes were glowing sapphire.

And he could communicate with animals.

It was fine.

No, it was more than fine—it was useful.

The insects liked to whisper about the ANBU moving around the village.

The crows gossiped about the market stalls and which vendors had the best food scraps.

The cats were little spies, slipping through alleys and into houses, knowing everything that happened behind closed doors.

And the snakes?

They were watching him.

Waiting.

They never said why.

But they never left.

Not even when the ANBU tried to get rid of them.

The black mamba had been the first.

Then the cobras.

Then the vipers.

Then the smaller, harmless snakes that slithered between the cracks in the walls, coiling near his bed while he slept.

The ANBU didn’t like it.

They reported it to the Hokage.

The Hokage said it was his chakra.

That Naruto’s chakra felt too much like nature.

That it called to living things, made them gather, made them listen.

But that didn’t really explain anything.

It was just a label.

Naruto didn’t care about labels.

He just was.

And right now?

He wanted a tree.

A plant.

Something to grow, something to look after.

So he spoke.

His first real sentence.

"Can I have a tree plant?"

And the ANBU froze.

Because up until now, he had only ever said one word.

"Dattebane."

Nothing else.

They had tried so hard to get him to speak.

They had repeated words, named objects, asked him questions.

And all he ever said was—Dattebane.

But now, out of nowhere, he had spoken a full, proper sentence.

His pronunciation was perfect.

His voice was clear.

He wasn’t stumbling, he wasn’t confused.

He just said it.

Naturally.

Easily.

Like he had been waiting for the right moment.

And the ANBU had no idea what to do with that.

They stared.

Then whispered among themselves.

Then stared again.

Eventually, Tora—one of the ANBU who had been with him the longest—stepped forward and vanished in a blur of speed.

When he returned, he was holding...

A cactus.

Naruto blinked.

Oh.

A cactus.

That was... actually kind of funny.

Because he had been a cactus once.

A long time ago.

It had been a simple life.

Slow.

Peaceful.

Mostly just soaking up the sun and waiting for rain.

But it had been nice.

He reached out and gently took the plant from Tora’s hands.

It was small.

Spiky.

Green and round, sitting snugly in a tiny ceramic pot.

Perfect.

He liked cacti.

They didn’t need much.

Just sunlight and a little water.

And patience.

Lots of patience.

Yes.

This was good.

He set the cactus beside his bed and stared at it.

The ANBU didn’t interrupt.

They didn’t say anything.

They just watched.

Like they were waiting for him to do something else strange.

But he didn’t.

He just took care of his cactus.

It became part of his routine.

Every morning, he checked the soil.

Every afternoon, he moved it to the best spot for sunlight.

Every night, he whispered to it.

Not with words.

Not out loud.

But he let it feel his gratitude.

Because that was something he knew.

Plants could feel.

Not like humans.

Not like animals.

But in their own slow, quiet way.

And his cactus was listening.

Just like the snakes.

Just like the crows.

Just like everything else that was drawn to him.

And if the ANBU thought it was odd?

If they whispered about him behind his back?

If they wondered why animals wouldn’t leave him alone?

He didn’t care.

They were human.

They needed words.

They needed logic.

They needed explanations.

Naruto didn’t.

Because to him, it was all very simple.

He was Naruto Uzumaki.

He was human.

His hair was red.

His eyes glowed.

And he could talk to everything.

—ToT—

By the time Naruto Uzumaki was four years old, the number of ANBU watching over him had dwindled to just two: Neko and Weasel.

Neko had been with him for a long time. She was the one who worried the most, the one who made sure he ate properly, slept well, and stayed warm in winter. She had sharp eyes, quick hands, and a soft voice—when she actually spoke, which wasn’t often. She always smelled like fresh rain, and her movements were as silent as a cat’s, fitting for her codename. Naruto liked her well enough. She wasn’t annoying, and she didn’t treat him like a fragile thing about to break.

Weasel was newer. Not as in new to ANBU—Naruto could tell he was ridiculously skilled—but newer to him. A presence that hadn’t always been there but had quickly become a familiar part of his world. He was quiet, watchful, with a way of moving that made it seem like he wasn’t quite there unless he wanted to be. His hair was black, his eyes dark, and there was something about him that made even animals hesitate before approaching. Not fear. Not quite. More like... understanding. Like he knew things other people didn’t.

Naruto had never been given an explanation for why it was just the two of them now. The ANBU didn’t really explain things to him unless they had to. But he wasn’t stupid. He had eyes. He had ears. He could put two and two together. He knew his presence unnerved people. Knew that the glowing sapphire of his eyes wasn’t normal, that the way insects and snakes and crows gathered around him wasn’t normal. Knew that even though the Hokage had ordered ANBU to protect him, most of them had never been comfortable doing so.

But Neko and Weasel stayed.

And for now, that was enough.

Naruto decided he should start cooking.

Not because he had to. The ANBU made sure he was fed. But because he wanted to.

It just made sense.

Food was important.

It was something you needed to live.

If you couldn’t make it yourself, you were helpless.

Naruto didn’t want to be helpless.

So he learned.

It was easy.

Watching was enough.

The way the ANBU moved in the kitchen, the way they measured ingredients, the way they chopped and stirred and tested flavors. He didn’t need them to teach him. He observed. Memorized. Took mental notes. Adapted.

Then he did it himself.

It was a simple meal. Nothing fancy, nothing difficult. But it was his. He had made it with his own hands.

When it was ready, he turned to Neko, holding out a plate.

She hesitated.

Of course she did.

Naruto never asked anyone to do things.

Not unless he thought it was important.

And right now, he was staring at her, waiting.

Not saying a word.

Just waiting.

There was no pressure in his gaze. No demand. Just quiet expectation.

And that was worse.

Because it meant he cared.

She sighed, lifted her mask just enough to show her mouth, then reached for the chopsticks.

The first bite was hesitant.

Then the second.

By the third, her movements had lost all hesitation.

She didn’t say anything.

Didn’t make a big deal out of it.

But Naruto could tell.

She liked it.

And that was...

Good.

It was good.

He looked at Weasel next.

The dark-eyed ANBU tilted his head, considering, then reached for a plate of his own.

He didn’t lift his mask. He removed it.

Set it on the table beside him.

Naruto blinked.

That was...

Unexpected.

The ANBU never took off their masks around him.

Ever.

But Weasel had.

Just like that.

Like it didn’t matter.

Like Naruto was just another person, not something that needed to be handled carefully.

He had sharp features. Dark eyes. A face that looked too young to be wearing a mask at all.

And when he ate, there was no hesitation, no skepticism.

Just acceptance.

"Wow," he murmured after swallowing. "This is really good."

Naruto stared.

Then tilted his head.

Weasel chuckled. "I mean it. You’re good at this."

Compliments were odd.

Naruto wasn’t sure what to do with them.

He understood praise. Understood the concept of recognizing a job well done.

But the way Weasel said it...

It wasn’t just praise.

It wasn’t just an observation.

There was something else there.

Something softer.

Something real.

And Naruto...

Didn’t mind it.

Didn’t mind it at all.

He simply nodded.

Then turned back to his own plate and began to eat.

He had never eaten something he made himself before.

But now that he had, he understood.

It tasted...

Better.

Not because the ingredients were different.

Not because the process had changed.

But because it was his.

And that made all the difference.

Weasel ate beside him, casual and unhurried.

Neko had finished her plate, but she lingered.

Like she didn’t quite want to leave yet.

Like this moment was...

Important.

Maybe it was.

Naruto didn’t know.

But he was okay with it.

The three of them, sitting in the quiet of his apartment, eating a meal he had made.

It was simple.

Small.

But good.

And Naruto thought...

Maybe he’d cook again.

To Be Continued

Chapter Text

Paintings

Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, often came to visit. Not every day. Not frequently enough for Naruto to expect him, but enough that the boy never forgot the old man's presence. The Hokage would arrive with a gentle knock, always carrying something—scrolls, ink, brushes, sometimes even small wooden toys. Things for Naruto to do. Things to keep him occupied.

Naruto never asked for gifts, never expected them, but he never refused them either. If the Hokage was giving, Naruto would take. That was the way of nature. You took what was given, but you never demanded more than what was offered.

The visits were... pleasant.

Naruto didn't really understand the concept of affection in a human sense. He had been an animal more times than he could count. He had been petted, scratched behind the ears, held close for warmth, and given food in return for companionship. Humans did not do that to other humans, at least not in the same way.

Still... Hiruzen's presence was nice.

It was like the sun in the middle of winter. Not warm enough to drive away the cold, but warm enough that you could feel it on your skin, just barely.

Naruto would sit cross-legged on the floor, painting with the materials the Hokage brought him. His hands were small, his fingers clumsy, but his strokes were precise. His drawings were never pretty, but they were detailed.

Sometimes he drew the animals that visited him.

Other times he drew things from his dreams.

Not his dreams, but the dreams of his past lives.

A flock of Archaeopteryx in flight, their feathered wings blending with the sky.

A jaguar stretched out on the branch of a tree, golden eyes glinting in the moonlight.

A wolf standing on the edge of a frozen river, nose raised to the wind, waiting for something that would never come.

Hiruzen never asked what the drawings meant.

He simply looked, nodded, and told Naruto he had a good eye for details.

Then he would talk.

The Hokage liked to talk.

Naruto liked to listen.

The old man would tell him stories about the village, about its founding, about the people who had shaped it.

The Hokages of the past.

Hashirama Senju. The First Hokage.

Tobirama Senju. The Second Hokage.

Minato Namikaze. The Fourth Hokage.

Naruto said nothing as Hiruzen spoke, but inside, he felt a strange, cold amusement.

Because he had seen them.

Hashirama.

Tobirama.

Minato.

He had watched Hashirama fight that red-eyed man, his massive wooden structures rising like mountains, the earth itself bending to his will. He had died in that battle, his tiny Archaeopteryx body reduced to nothing by the shockwaves of their fight.

He had seen Tobirama too, standing amidst bodies, water turning to spears in his hands, fighting against men whose skin was dark and cracked like the earth in summer.

And Minato...

Minato had given him this life.

Minato had died so that he could live.

Minato was his father.

But Hiruzen never told him that.

It was odd.

The Hokage spoke of Minato with admiration, with pride.

But never once did he say, This man was your father. This man loved you. This man died for you.

Naruto never asked.

He never asked because he did not need to.

Because he remembered.

Because when he dreamed, he dreamed not only of his past lives but of the day he was born.

He remembered the cold air, the blood, the fear.

He remembered a woman with red hair and a man with golden hair, standing before a monstrous fox with blazing red eyes.

He remembered the pain of a seal burning into his skin, of his tiny body being changed as something vast and powerful was forced into him.

He remembered Minato's voice, quiet and sad.

"I'm sorry, Naruto."

He had been sorry.

And then he had died.

Naruto did not hate him.

But he did not mourn him either.

Minato had made a choice.

A choice that left Naruto alone.

That was simply the way of things.

Hiruzen spoke of the Hokages as heroes.

As men who had given everything for the sake of the village.

And maybe they had.

But Naruto had seen things that did not fit Hiruzen's stories.

He had seen heroes destroy forests, cutting down trees and driving animals from their homes.

He had seen heroes slaughter entire clans, their blood soaking into the earth.

He had seen heroes kill creatures they did not need to kill, not for food, not for survival, but because they could.

And even now, in this life, he had seen heroes try to kill him.

A baby.

A child who had done nothing.

It was strange.

Why would heroes do such things?

He did not ask Hiruzen.

Because Naruto was not stupid.

He knew that humans did not always like to hear certain questions.

They did not like to be forced to think about things they had already decided were true.

So he said nothing.

He listened.

He painted.

And when the Hokage left, he went to water his cactus.

Neko and Weasel returned shortly after.

The ANBU never stayed when Hiruzen was here.

They left and came back like clockwork.

Naruto did not ask why.

He simply accepted it.

Life moved forward.

Seasons changed.

And Naruto kept waiting.

For what, he did not know.

But he knew something was coming.

Something inevitable.

Like the turn of the sun.

Like the pull of the tide.

Something was coming.

And Naruto would be ready.

—ToT—

Naruto sat on the floor, absently tracing his fingers over the grain of the wood. His cactus sat on the windowsill, soaking in the weak afternoon light. Neko and Weasel were somewhere nearby, unseen but present. They were always present, even when he couldn't see them.

Hiruzen sat across from him, cross-legged like an old monk, his eyes kind yet sharp, watching Naruto as if waiting for something.

And then, the question.

"Do you want to be a Shinobi, Naruto?"

It was an odd thing to ask.

Naruto tilted his head slightly, fingers pausing their absent movement over the wood.

Want?

Did he want to be a Shinobi?

No.

Not really.

Shinobi were killers.

They lied, stole, betrayed, destroyed.

Even their heroism was built on the backs of dead men, of slaughtered enemies, of victories that came at a price someone else had to pay.

Shinobi were the ones who hunted animals for sport. Shinobi were the ones who burned forests and cut rivers in half with their power.

Shinobi were the ones who had killed him before.

He had died so many times because of Shinobi.

Sometimes he had been prey. A deer caught in the woods, running for his life only to be brought down by a well-aimed kunai.

Sometimes he had simply been in the way. A bird caught in the wrong storm, a fox curled in its den when the earth split open and the fire swallowed him whole.

Even in this life, his enemies had been Shinobi.

The drunk Jōnin who had slipped into his apartment, muttering about avenging his lost comrades.

The faceless masked ones who had tried to put a kunai through his heart while he still lay in his crib.

The ANBU who killed them before they could succeed.

And even now, the two Shinobi standing watch over him, hidden but always there.

Naruto did not want to be a Shinobi.

But...

If he wasn't a Shinobi, what was he?

Weak.

Prey.

Nothing.

He had spent many lives on the bottom of the food chain.

He had been hunted, devoured, crushed beneath forces greater than himself.

That was nature.

The weak perished.

The strong survived.

Naruto wanted to survive.

Even now, when he had no pack, no herd, no flock to protect him, he wanted to live.

And the only way to live in a world ruled by Shinobi... was to become one.

So he looked Hiruzen in the eye, voice steady.

"Yes."

For a moment, the old man simply looked at him.

And then his face lit up.

Happiness.

Relief.

Satisfaction.

As if he had expected something else.

As if he had feared rejection.

Naruto didn't understand it.

Why should Hiruzen care if he became a Shinobi or not?

But the Hokage's happiness was clear.

He smiled, nodded, reached out a wrinkled hand to ruffle Naruto's red hair.

"Good, good."

Naruto let it happen.

The old man's hand was warm.

A strange warmth.

Like the sun on a cold morning.

And then, just like that, the visit was over.

Hiruzen left, walking with the careful, measured steps of an old man carrying too much weight.

And when the door closed behind him, something changed.

Naruto could feel it.

Like a shift in the air.

Like the moment before a storm.

The next day, the ANBU unlatched the locks on his door.

"You're allowed to leave now."

Naruto stared at them, then at the open door.

Allowed.

As if he had been a prisoner all this time.

Perhaps he had been.

He looked at Neko, then at Weasel.

They were watching him.

Waiting.

If he took a step outside, he knew—everything would change.

He wondered...

What would have happened if he had said no?

Would they have kept him locked away?

Would the Hokage have looked at him with sadness instead of joy?

Would his cage have remained closed?

He did not know.

He would never know.

Because he had chosen yes.

And now, his world was about to grow bigger.

Naruto stepped forward.

Through the door.

And into the unknown.

—ToT—

Naruto didn't react when he was yanked back, didn't fight against the grip on his collar, didn't say anything when the ball was stolen from his hands.

He just stood there, blinking as the child hesitated, looked between him and the adult before clutching the ball tight and running away.

The words rang in his ears.

"Stay away from this kid!"

He tilted his head slightly.

A warning. A command.

A fear.

Naruto dusted off his clothes and walked away.

He knew this feeling.

It was the same as when the newborn runt of a litter was pushed aside, denied food, denied warmth, left to die in the cold because it was too weak, too sickly, too different.

The villagers stayed away. Kept their distance. Their whispers slithered around him like unseen snakes, filled with things they didn't want him to hear but said anyway.

"Demon child."

"Stay away from him."

"Monster."

Words didn't hurt Naruto. Words were just sounds, just vibrations in the air.

But what was in those words— the hate, the fear, the disgust— that was what interested him.

They knew.

About the Fox.

The thing that lived inside him, the thing that had taken so many lives.

They looked at him and saw it.

Not a boy. Not a child. Not a person.

Just a cage for the monster they all despised.

Naruto walked through the village, taking it all in.

The way people avoided him.

The way their eyes flicked toward him and then quickly away.

The way their bodies tensed, as if waiting for him to do something terrible.

They were like animals sensing a predator— or rather, sensing something they thought was a predator.

They feared him.

Interesting.

He did not mind.

Fear kept animals alive.

It kept them cautious, made them stay away from things that could hurt them.

If they feared him, they would not try to kill him.

At least, not so openly.

He kept walking, letting his feet take him where they wanted to go.

Away from the humans, toward things that made more sense.

The animals.

The strays.

A dog with a missing ear, a cat with matted fur, a crow with one cloudy eye.

They did not fear him.

They did not flinch away when he reached out a hand.

They understood him.

Not in words, not in speech, but in a way that went beyond language.

They had been hurt before.

They had been cast aside, abandoned, unloved.

Just like him.

Naruto sat down beside them, watching as they curled up near him, as they settled into the warmth of his presence.

He stayed with them for a while, until the sky began to darken.

And then he left.

Because there was something else he wanted to see.

The trees.

The hulking trees that loomed over the village like silent giants, ancient and powerful.

The trees he had only seen from a distance, never up close.

The trees that felt right.

Like home.

He stepped toward them, drawn in by something he could not name.

The scent of leaves, the weight of the air, the hum of life that pulsed through the roots buried deep in the earth.

He wanted to climb.

To go up, up, up.

To see the world from the branches, to touch the sky like he had when he had wings.

But before he could take another step, a presence flickered behind him.

"Time's up."

Neko.

Naruto stilled, eyes lingering on the trees for a moment longer before turning away.

He did not argue.

There would be a next time.

There was always a next time.

He walked back toward the village, toward the cage that was his home, leaving behind the whispers, the strays, and the towering trees.

For now.

—ToT—

Naruto decided that the old man deserved a gift.

It was only fair.

The Hokage always brought him things— paints, books, sometimes even sweets if he wasn't in a rush. So, in Naruto's mind, it only made sense to return the favor.

But what could he give?

Food?

No, humans liked food, but the Hokage barely had enough time to sit down and enjoy it. He always seemed to be rushing from one place to another, never staying longer than fifteen minutes before duty called him away.

Something else, then.

Something that would last.

His gaze drifted to the paints, the brushes, the blank canvases stacked neatly in the corner of the room.

Oh.

He could paint.

The thought settled in his mind like a stone sinking into water.

Yes.

That would be his gift.

And so, through the quiet hours of the night, under the watchful eyes of Neko and Weasel, Naruto worked.

He did not need references.

He did not need to think.

His hands moved as if guided by something unseen, as if the images had always been there, waiting to be put on canvas.

Brush strokes smooth and deliberate.

Colors mixed and layered, shadows deepened and light captured.

Neko and Weasel said nothing, only exchanged glances as the painting took shape before their eyes.

Because it was not a painting of flowers or trees.

Not a picture of animals or the village or anything a four-year-old should have been interested in.

It was a battle.

A scene from a time long past, rendered in startling detail.

By dawn, it was finished.

A three-foot by three-foot oil painting.

Naruto cleaned his brushes, wiped his hands on a rag, and carefully set the painting aside to dry.

Then he waited.

The Hokage arrived, as he always did.

With a warm smile, with gentle words, with his usual presence that never lingered for long.

But this time, Naruto had something for him.

A trade.

He picked up the painting, walked over, and held it out.

Hiruzen looked surprised. "For me?"

Naruto nodded.

A pause, then the old man took it with careful hands, eyes soft with warmth. "Thank you, Naruto. Let's see what you—"

The words stopped.

His breath caught.

His face froze, not with happiness, but with something else.

Shock.

Why did he look more stunned than pleased?

He knew Naruto could draw.

So why...?

The Hokage stared at the image in his hands, his expression unreadable.

"Naruto," his voice was slower now, measured. "What is this?"

"A painting," Naruto answered simply.

"What is in the painting?"

Naruto blinked.

That was an odd question.

He had painted what he saw.

He had painted what was there.

"Hashirama Senju fighting," he said.

The silence in the room stretched thin, taut like a pulled thread.

Hiruzen's fingers tightened around the canvas.

"And... who is the other man?"

Naruto frowned slightly, tilting his head.

Did the old man not recognize him?

Hashirama had yelled that name— had screamed it during the fight.

That was why Naruto remembered it so well.

"Madara," he said.

Neko inhaled sharply behind him.

Weasel's shoulders stiffened.

The tension in the room grew heavy, pressing against the walls, against the air itself.

Hiruzen slowly set the painting down on the table, his gaze unreadable.

The details were too perfect.

The bird's-eye perspective too precise.

Hashirama Senju, standing atop his wooden Buddha statue with a thousand hands.

Madara Uchiha, atop the Nine-Tailed Fox, its crimson fur bristling, its eyes burning with fury.

A scene from the past.

A battle Naruto should not know about.

"Naruto..."

The Hokage's voice was careful now.

His words chosen with deliberate precision.

"How do you know about this?"

Naruto tilted his head again, considering.

Would they believe the truth?

That he had been there?

That he had seen it happen, not from books, not from stories, but with his own eyes?

That he had died in that battle, torn apart by the Fox's power?

No.

They would not believe it.

So he simply said, "I just know."

Silence.

Deep.

Lingering.

Hiruzen studied him, searching for something in his young face.

But Naruto remained still, expression blank, gaze unwavering.

At last, the Hokage sighed, shaking his head slightly.

He said nothing more.

Instead, he looked down at the painting again, running his fingers over the textured oil strokes.

After a moment, he carefully wrapped it, handling it with the same respect he might give an ancient relic.

"Thank you, Naruto," he finally said, voice quiet.

And then he left, taking the painting with him.

Naruto watched him go.

He did not understand why the Hokage was so shaken.

It was just a painting.

Just a memory.

Just something he saw.

And yet, the weight in the air told him that it was more than that.

Much more.

Naruto sat back down, picking up his brush again.

There were other memories.

Other things he had seen.

He dipped the brush into color, the scent of oil and pigment filling the air.

He had more to paint.

—ToT—

Itachi Uchiha—Weasel—had seen many strange things in his young life.

But nothing quite like this.

He watched in quiet disbelief as the four-year-old boy painted with the precision of a seasoned war artist, his tiny hands moving with careful intent.

Stroke by stroke, the images came to life.

And they were not the innocent drawings of a child.

They were memories.

They were secrets.

S-rank secrets.

Things only high-ranking Shinobi should know.

Things only those who had witnessed them firsthand could possibly recall.

Yet Naruto Uzumaki, a child who had never left his apartment before recently, was painting them with horrifying accuracy.

Itachi's fingers twitched.

He knew these scenes.

He had seen them himself.

The Third Great Shinobi War.

The battlegrounds where men and beasts alike had been slaughtered.

Forests reduced to smoldering wastelands.

Rivers dried up.

Mountains shattered by explosive jutsu.

And worst of all—

The night the Nine-Tailed Fox attacked.

The night the Yondaime Hokage had stood atop a massive toad, facing the raging beast with his Hiraishin flickering like golden lightning across the battlefield.

Naruto painted it all.

Not in clumsy, childish strokes, but with chilling precision.

Every line was deliberate.

Every detail exact.

The sheen of blood on kunai.

The despair in the eyes of dying men.

The raw terror of those caught in the crossfire.

Itachi swallowed.

He wasn't alone in his shock.

Neko was as still as a statue, her cat mask concealing her face but not her body language.

Her shoulders were tense.

Her breath uneven.

She, too, understood what they were looking at.

Even the Hokage—the ever-composed Hiruzen Sarutobi—had been shaken when Naruto gifted him a painting of Hashirama Senju's battle with Madara Uchiha.

And now this?

This was something else entirely.

This was insanity.

Itachi's eyes traced the brushstrokes, noting the gore.

The violence.

The realism.

Naruto did not censor anything.

The screams of the wounded.

The severed limbs in the mud.

The way blood soaked into the earth, dark and heavy.

It was all there.

How?

The child's glowing sapphire eyes remained fixed on the canvas, his expression neutral, unbothered by the horror he was bringing to life.

He did not hesitate.

He did not pause.

He knew what he was painting.

And that—more than anything—unsettled Itachi to his very core.

How could a four-year-old know these things?

The answer should have been simple.

He was a Jinchūriki.

The Nine-Tails was sealed inside him.

Maybe—just maybe—some of these memories were leaking through.

But that didn't explain everything.

It didn't explain the sheer breadth of his knowledge.

The Third Shinobi War had happened before Naruto was even born.

How would the Nine-Tails have memories of that?

The Kyuubi had been sealed away at the time—inside Kushina Uzumaki.

Itachi's fists clenched.

There was only one question on his mind.

One question that no one had the answer to.

"Naruto Uzumaki… what are you?"

The boy did not notice the tension in the room.

Or if he did, he did not care.

He continued painting, moving onto another canvas without pause.

Weasel and Neko did not stop him.

They only watched.

Because what else could they do?

The Hokage needed to know about this.

He needed to see this for himself.

Itachi silently committed every brushstroke to memory.

Because he had a feeling—

A dangerous feeling—

That this was only the beginning.

To Be Continued

Chapter Text

The river was wild today.

Spring rains had swollen it past its usual limits, turning the once gentle current into a hungry, rushing beast. The surface churned, white foam slamming against rocks and tree roots, carrying broken branches and debris downstream.

And in the middle of it all—

A tiny, struggling body.

A puppy.

Naruto saw it first.

A small thing, barely bigger than his own hands, flailing helplessly in the torrent.

It had likely fallen in by accident, its paws too weak to fight the pull of the water.

Naruto did not think.

He simply moved.

His small body shot forward, feet splashing into the shallows, then deeper, deeper—until the ground beneath him disappeared entirely.

And he swam.

Water was no stranger to him.

He had swum as a fish before. As a crocodile. As an otter.

And in this body, too—this strange, human form—he knew how to move through it.

The current was strong. It fought against him, dragging at his limbs, threatening to pull him under.

But Naruto had lived hundreds of lives.

He had battled against tides far more powerful than this.

His small hands grasped wet fur.

The puppy yelped, its tiny body limp with exhaustion.

Naruto kicked against the current.

Fought against the pull.

One stroke.

Another.

And finally—

Land.

His feet found the muddy riverbank, and he hauled himself up, dragging the little animal with him.

The puppy trembled in his arms, coughing weakly, water dripping from its sodden fur.

It was alive.

Naruto blinked.

Something about that thought felt… right.

A long time ago, he had been the one drowning.

He had been the one flailing, choking, sinking.

But there had been no one to pull him from the depths.

No one had saved him.

Not in that life.

Not in so many others.

He looked down at the shivering puppy in his hands and made a decision.

"Not this time."

A shadow fell over him.

Naruto turned.

A boy stood there.

Around his age—maybe five, maybe six—dressed in dark blue, his hair was jet black.

His eyes, however, were what caught Naruto's attention.

They were sharp.

Too sharp for a child.

Just like Weasel's.

The boy's gaze flicked from the puppy in Naruto's arms to the water, then back to Naruto himself.

His expression was unreadable.

Finally, he spoke.

"Who are you?"

Naruto tilted his head.

Then, without hesitation—

"Naruto Uzumaki. Dattebane."

And with that, he walked away.

—ToT—

The market was loud.

Too loud.

Naruto had never been in a crowd like this before.

People bustled past him, their voices overlapping in a messy, incomprehensible hum.

Vendors shouted their prices.

Children laughed and screamed.

The smells of food, sweat, and fresh produce clashed in the air.

It was… overwhelming.

But Naruto did not stop.

He walked with purpose, the rescued puppy cradled in his arms, eyes scanning the stalls.

Food.

The little one was hungry.

He needed to find something to eat.

He approached a shop.

Stepped inside.

And—

A hand shoved him.

Hard.

Naruto stumbled back.

He barely caught himself before he fell, the puppy yipping in protest.

The shopkeeper stood in the doorway, eyes cold.

"Get out."

Naruto stared up at him.

The man's expression didn't change.

Didn't waver.

Like he was staring at something filthy.

Like Naruto was not even human.

The door slammed shut in his face.

Naruto stood still for a moment.

Then—

He turned.

And walked away.

His arms curled tighter around the puppy, holding it close to his chest.

The rejection did not surprise him.

Not anymore.

But that did not mean it did not hurt.

—ToT—

The scent was rich, warm, and thick with something familiar.

Naruto had never smelled it before, not in this life, yet it pulled at something deep within him, something distant—like a memory just out of reach.

His stomach twisted, growling in protest.

He inhaled deeply, following the scent, his nose twitching.

It led him through the bustling streets, past vendors and shops, past wary glances and averted eyes.

Finally, he arrived.

A small wooden stand, tucked between larger buildings, steam curling from massive pots behind the counter. The sign above read Ichiraku Ramen.

Naruto stopped.

He watched as people sat on stools, laughing, chatting, slurping noodles with loud, contented sighs.

The man behind the counter worked quickly, his hands moving with practiced ease, ladling broth, slicing meat, placing bowls in front of customers with a wide, genuine smile.

Naruto's mouth watered.

His hands dipped into his pocket, fingers brushing against the two small copper coins he had.

Is it enough?

He watched the people carefully, how they handed the man money, how he took it before serving their food.

He stepped forward, cautiously.

No one stopped him.

No one threw him out.

He placed the coins on the counter.

And waited.

The man glanced at the money.

Then at Naruto.

There was a moment of silence.

A flicker of something unreadable crossed the man's face.

Recognition?

Pity?

Naruto tensed, expecting the inevitable.

"You know, kid, the cheapest ramen is 390 ryō," the man finally said.

Naruto blinked.

"That's 30 ryō you've got."

Oh.

Not enough.

He took his coins and turned to leave.

It was fine. He had been hungry before. He would be hungry again.

But—

"Wait!"

Naruto flinched.

His body went rigid, muscles tensing, prepared for the strike.

This was the moment.

The moment they tricked him.

The moment they yanked him back, struck him, laughed at his foolishness.

He had died this way before, once, as a squirrel—lured close by a kind voice, only to feel fingers snap around his fragile body and twist.

But when he turned, the man was not reaching for him in violence.

Instead, he was gesturing for Naruto to come closer.

Slowly, warily, Naruto approached.

The man placed a steaming bowl of ramen on the counter.

Grinning.

"I had some extra today, so, here, on the house."

Naruto stared at him.

No trick?

No deception?

Nothing asked in return?

The scent hit him harder now, thick and comforting.

Still, he hesitated.

Then—

He climbed onto the stool.

Lifted the chopsticks.

Took a bite.

And—

It was warm.

Not just in temperature, but in something else.

Something deep.

Something he had been missing.

The broth slid down his throat, rich and savory, clinging to his tongue like a hug.

The noodles were smooth, soft but firm, curling perfectly as he slurped them.

His fingers tightened around the chopsticks, breath hitching slightly.

He had eaten in every form imaginable. As predator. As prey. As scavenger and hunter.

But this—

This was different.

It was more than food.

It was care.

It was comfort.

It was home.

He didn't realize he was eating faster until the man chuckled.

A large, warm hand ruffled his hair.

Naruto froze.

The touch was foreign. Unfamiliar.

But… not unpleasant.

"I'm Teuchi," the man said. "That's my daughter, Ayame. What's your name?"

Naruto swallowed the mouthful of noodles.

He hesitated for only a moment before replying.

"Naruto Uzumaki. Dattebane."

The man—Teuchi—laughed.

Not a mocking laugh.

Not a cruel laugh.

But a real, genuine laugh.

"'Dattebane,' huh? Reminds me of another redhead!"

Naruto paused.

He knew who Teuchi was referring to.

His mother.

Kushina Uzumaki.

But he did not ask.

He simply took another bite, the warmth of the ramen spreading through his chest, filling something hollow inside him that had long been empty.

He had lived for over two billion years.

But this—this moment—was something entirely new.

—ToT—

Ichiraku Ramen became a second home.

Naruto found himself wandering there more and more, drawn in by the warmth, by the voices that didn't turn cold when they spoke to him, by the hands that never struck him when they reached out. Teuchi was always smiling, always treating him like a kid, not a monster, not something to be whispered about in dark corners. Ayame was loud and strange, her chatter nonsensical and rapid-fire, bouncing from one topic to another like a frog leaping across lily pads.

"Did you know slugs have three thousand teeth? I heard that from a merchant once! Oh, oh! And did you know that some people eat shark fin soup? Can you imagine eating a shark? That's like—super weird, right?"

Naruto would listen, chewing thoughtfully, sometimes responding with a nod, sometimes a simple "Dattebane", letting the words wash over him like background noise. He wasn't sure what to do with conversations like these. He wasn't sure what to do with people who wanted to talk to him without hidden motives or cruel intentions.

Teuchi was different too. His words weren't as scattered as Ayame's, but they carried a weight that Naruto wasn't used to. Comfort. It was strange, being reassured without an ulterior motive.

"A full belly makes for a happy heart, kid. Eat up."

"You ever need a place to sit and think, you come here, alright?"

"No one should eat alone all the time, Naruto. People need people."

Naruto didn't know if that was true. He had never needed people before. He had lived, breathed, and died more times than he could count, all without needing anyone. But… maybe this life was different. Maybe this time, things weren't so simple.

He spoke rarely, keeping his words short, his sentences clipped. If he had to speak, he limited it to necessities. "Ramen." "Yes." "No." And, of course, "Dattebane."

A few days passed like this, slipping away without his notice.

Then, one morning, he woke up, and the ANBU were gone.

Naruto sat on his bed for a long time, staring at the empty room.

The silence felt wrong.

No masked figures standing in the shadows. No silent watchers perched in the corners. No lingering presence just out of sight.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, he was alone.

He wasn't sure if he liked it.

Time passed, the days blending together. He cooked, he fed his cactus, he wandered the village until shopkeepers kicked him out. He went to Ichiraku when his stomach grumbled loud enough.

And then, one day, the old man came.

Hiruzen didn't say a word when he arrived. He just stepped inside, scooped Naruto into his arms without warning, and carried him out. Naruto didn't resist. There was no point. He let himself be taken, let himself be carried through the village, past suspicious stares and murmured words.

They stopped in front of a shop.

A weapon shop.

Naruto tilted his head.

The scent of metal and oil was thick in the air. Rows of weapons gleamed under the dim light—kunai, shuriken, swords lined neatly on the walls.

Hiruzen walked inside, Naruto still in his grasp, and wordlessly handed the shopkeeper a list.

The transaction was quick, efficient.

Kunai. Wires. A medical kit. A camping set.

Killing tools.

Shinobi tools.

Naruto held the bag in his small hands, feeling the weight of it. Feeling the expectation behind it.

Then, without a single word, Hiruzen took him somewhere else.

Somewhere louder.

Somewhere filled with people.

The Academy.

Children ran across the courtyard, laughter and shouting filling the air. Some were sparring, others were throwing kunai at training dummies, their tiny hands already learning the art of precision and death.

Naruto stared.

Hiruzen placed a hand on his shoulder, guiding him forward.

"You'll be learning in here from now on, Naruto."

Learning to kill. Learning to destroy.

That part was left unspoken.

—ToT—

The Academy was loud.

Too loud.

Naruto didn't like it.

The moment he stepped into the classroom, his senses were overwhelmed. Voices clashed, feet stomped, chairs scraped against the floor, and someone was already crying in the back. The scent of sweat, ink, and the faintest trace of old food clung to the air. The energy in the room was wild—like a pack of untrained animals, all yipping and snarling, all vying for attention.

He didn't belong here.

But he had nowhere else to go.

So, he sat.

A boy with spiky brown hair and sharp eyes occupied the seat beside him, a tiny white puppy curled in his jacket. The dog's nose twitched as Naruto sat down, ears flicking as if sensing something off. Naruto barely spared them a glance before settling in, gaze distant.

Then, the room stilled.

Two figures walked in, their steps immediately commanding attention.

"Alright, settle down!"

The voices belonged to two men—one tan-skinned with a scar across his nose, the other leaner, his expression far too friendly.

"I'm Iruka Umino," the scarred one introduced. "And this is Mizuki. We'll be your instructors from today onward."

Naruto barely listened. His fingers drummed against the desk, mind already drifting. It wasn't that he didn't understand the importance of this—if anything, he understood it too well. This was the first step. The first stage of a process designed to mold them into killers, to strip away whatever innocence remained and replace it with steel.

Names were called, introductions made.

"Shikamaru Nara."

A boy with a lazy expression yawned as he muttered his name, slouching like he was already exhausted just being here.

"Ino Yamanaka."

A blonde girl with bright eyes and an air of confidence.

"Choji Akimichi."

A round-faced boy chewing something, his cheeks full even as he spoke.

"Hinata Hyuuga."

A girl who barely managed a whisper, her pale eyes darting away.

"Kiba Inuzuka."

The boy with the puppy. His grin was sharp, wild.

"Shino Aburame."

A quiet presence, mostly hidden behind dark glasses and high collars.

"Sakura Haruno."

A girl with pink hair and an eager voice.

Then—

"Sasuke Uchiha."

Naruto's gaze snapped toward him.

A boy with raven-black hair and dark, piercing eyes. Eyes that burned with something Naruto had seen before. Not quite like Weasel's—not yet—but close. Close enough that Naruto knew what he would become.

Then—

"Naruto Uzumaki."

He blinked, realizing they were waiting.

"Naruto Uzumaki. Dattebane."

The murmurs started immediately.

"My dad told me to stay away from him."

"He's dirty, always with those stray animals."

"I heard he eats crickets for dinner. Ew."

Naruto didn't eat crickets for dinner. If he were a frog, maybe. But he was human. And humans didn't eat crickets.

He ignored them. Ignored Sasuke's narrowed eyes, ignored the way the room's energy shifted subtly in his direction, like the class was waiting to see what he would do.

He did nothing.

He simply sat.

—ToT—

The first class was math.

Naruto didn't know what math was.

He knew numbers, sure. Humans liked numbers. They used them for everything—how many people were in a group, how many coins were needed to buy something, how many enemies were on a battlefield. But Naruto had never needed to use them. He had been a bird, a tree, a snake, a dog—numbers were meaningless to survival.

So when Mizuki called his name, ordering him to the front, he went.

The board was large, smooth. A clean slate of black waiting to be filled.

Mizuki wrote something in white chalk.

"Solve this problem, Naruto."

88/2

Naruto stared.

The classroom snickered.

He could feel their eyes boring into him, their amusement curling in the air like smoke.

He ignored them.

He turned his gaze back to the numbers, processing them as best as he could. The marks on the board—he knew the first number was eighty-eight. The second was two. But the symbol in between? What did that mean?

"Tch, just go stand outside, Naruto." Mizuki sighed, rubbing his forehead like he was dealing with something exhausting.

Naruto blinked.

...Huh?

He glanced at the board, then back at Mizuki. But they hadn't even taught anything yet.

How was he supposed to solve it if nobody told him how? Was there an instructor waiting outside to explain it?

No.

He knew what this was.

This wasn't about learning.

This was about him.

He didn't argue. He didn't protest. He simply set the chalk down and walked to the door, stepping outside into the empty hallway.

There was no instructor waiting for him.

Just silence.

Naruto leaned against the wall, staring at nothing, the voices of the class muffled behind the door.

It was strange. He had lived over a million lives—had seen civilizations rise and fall, had walked through ages of war and peace—but never had he been made to feel stupid.

He wasn't stupid.

He just didn't know.

And there was a difference.

When the class ended, Naruto stepped back inside, taking his seat again.

The students were talking excitedly about math now, about something called addition.

"One and three makes four!" someone chirped.

"Yeah, and two and two makes four, too!" another laughed.

Naruto listened. They spoke of adding numbers together.

But nobody spoke of the problem Mizuki had given him.

88/2.

What did it mean?

Still confused, Naruto leaned over to Kiba, the only person sitting close enough to ask.

"Hey. What does eighty-eight stick two mean?" he murmured.

Kiba blinked. "What?"

"The thing on the board. The one I couldn't answer."

Kiba frowned, scratching his head. "Uh... I dunno."

Naruto paused.

So Kiba didn't know either?

Then why had he been the only one told to stand outside?

Realization settled in like cold water seeping through his skin.

It wasn't about the question.

It wasn't about math.

It was about Mizuki.

Naruto had been tricked.

And now, he understood.

—ToT—

History class began.

The teacher spoke with a voice full of pride, telling them the tale of how the great shinobi villages were born.

"Once, the world was chaotic—shinobi fought endlessly, clans warring against clans. But then came Hashirama Senju, the First Hokage. He dreamed of peace, a world where children wouldn't have to go to war. He united the clans under one banner, founded Konohagakure, and others soon followed his example—forming the great Hidden Villages we know today!"

The classroom was filled with reactions—whispers of admiration, soft gasps of wonder.

"Ooooh!"

"Ahhh!"

"That's so cool!"

The children soaked up the story like dry earth drinking rain.

Naruto stayed silent.

He listened. He observed. He processed.

So the villages were meant to bring peace?

He glanced at his classmates. Their eyes sparkled with excitement, their minds already painting images of heroism, of mighty Hokages and noble shinobi protecting their people.

But Naruto's mind painted something different.

He had been there.

He had seen the chaos of the warring clans—not from a human's perspective, but from the creatures caught in the crossfire.

He had seen forests burn, rivers run red, mountains crumble under jutsu so powerful they reshaped the very land. He had seen animals—his kin—trampled beneath the boots of war, their homes destroyed for the sake of human conflicts.

He had seen Hashirama Senju.

Not as a figure of legend, but as a man. A man who had fought, bled, and killed just like any other shinobi. A man who had stood atop a monstrous wooden Buddha, facing a crimson-eyed warrior wielding the very creature now sealed inside Naruto's gut.

Madara Uchiha.

A name spoken with either reverence or hatred. A name drowned in blood and ambition.

And yet, here, in this classroom, their story had been smoothed over, polished into something grand and noble.

Naruto frowned.

Truly?

Was peace really what the villages had brought?

If so, why was the world still so full of violence?

Why did people still kill?

Why did people still suffer?

Why did the villagers look at him with hatred, whispering behind his back?

Why was he kicked out of stores, denied kindness, treated like something less than human?

If the villages were created for peace, then why had he—an innocent baby—been condemned the moment he was born?

His fingers curled into his sleeves.

The story they were being told—was it the truth?

Or was it just another pretty lie?

—ToT—

To Be Continued

Chapter Text

Drawing class was supposed to be the best part of the day.

For once, Naruto actually liked what they were doing. He enjoyed the feel of the brush in his fingers, the smooth glide of paint against the canvas. It felt natural—like breathing.

Iruka handed out the supplies, a kind smile on his face as he told them to "draw whatever inspires you."

The kids got to work immediately. The girls giggled and chatted, their strokes careful and precise. Hinata's drawing was particularly detailed—soft colors and delicate flowers. Ino and Sakura, despite their rivalry, both had impressive compositions, full of charm and warmth.

Sasuke was the exception among the boys. His portrait was shockingly well-done.

It was of his older brother—Weasel.

Naruto's eyes lingered on the drawing for a moment longer.

Oh.

That explained it. The resemblance. The way Sasuke carried himself. The same face, same sharp gaze—though, unlike Itachi, Sasuke's expression always carried an air of superiority.

Naruto didn't comment on it. Instead, he turned back to his own canvas.

He was excited for this.

For once, he had something to look forward to.

He dipped his brush in deep, rich browns, layering on hues of ochre and crimson. He painted long, segmented limbs—each one armored and jointed, coiling and twisting across the canvas. His brush glided with precision, bringing to life thick, writhing antennae and gleaming fangs.

The centipede took shape—a vast, ancient creature, its many legs curled in repose, its massive form shadowed in golden dust. A being of the past, of a time before humans walked the land.

Naruto knew it well.

Because he had been it.

Not that he could say that.

When he finished, he sat back, satisfied. His painting had depth. It had texture, life. The centipede's many black eyes seemed to gleam, filled with something unspoken, something old and knowing.

"Naruto?"

He turned the canvas toward the class.

And the reaction was immediate.

A collective gasp.

Screeches.

Several of the girls shrieked, clutching their seats, some even throwing their erasers at him.

Even Iruka flinched, his face twisting with something Naruto had seen before—disgust.

"Ew!" Sakura recoiled, face scrunched up. "What is that?!"

"That's so creepy!" Ino gagged, looking away.

"Dude, what the hell?!" Kiba barked, his nose scrunching. Even his puppy, Akamaru, let out a nervous whimper.

Choji, normally one of the kinder kids, looked uncomfortable. "Uh… maybe put it down, Naruto."

Naruto blinked.

Huh?

What was the problem?

Wasn't it good? He was pretty sure it was the best one in the class. It had depth, unlike the scribbles of flowers and trees around him. His strokes were precise, the details on the centipede's body intricate and real.

Why were they acting like this?

"Naruto…" Iruka cleared his throat, hesitant. "What… what did you draw?"

Naruto glanced at the painting, then back at him.

"An ancient centipede." He said simply.

Iruka's lips pressed into a thin line.

"It's… very detailed."

Naruto tilted his head. That didn't sound like a compliment.

The room still buzzed with unease. Some of the kids had even moved their chairs farther away from him, whispering under their breaths.

Iruka hesitated for a long moment before sighing.

"I think we should put this one away for now."

He carefully took the painting from Naruto's hands, rolling it up, as if trying to remove something grotesque from sight.

Naruto watched, expression blank.

Then he sat back down.

His fingers flexed slightly.

Perhaps next time, I'll paint a T-Rex.

Maybe that would be acceptable.

—ToT—

When Iruka stepped into the Hokage's office, he had no idea what to expect. He had seen many strange things in his time as a teacher, but today had been particularly unsettling.

He placed the rolled-up canvas on the Hokage's desk with a slow, measured movement.

Hiruzen Sarutobi barely reacted. The old man simply regarded the painting with mild curiosity, his pipe resting between his fingers as he exhaled a stream of smoke.

Iruka hesitated.

"Hokage-sama…" he started, glancing at the scroll. "This was drawn by Naruto."

Hiruzen nodded, as if he already knew. "I see."

Iruka frowned. "You don't seem surprised."

Hiruzen exhaled again, setting his pipe down. Then, without a word, he opened one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out a thick bundle of scrolls.

Iruka blinked as the Hokage unrolled them.

His stomach dropped.

The first painting was—horrifying.

A massive wasp—larger than a human—perched atop a pile of twitching, half-eaten insects. Its exoskeleton was sharp and jagged, painted in disturbingly realistic detail, its compound eyes reflecting the last moments of its struggling prey.

Iruka swallowed thickly.

The next one was even worse.

It depicted an entire war, not between humans—but between creatures. Ancient, terrifying beings. Giant, armored trilobites swarming over the body of a fallen sea scorpion, its legs curling inward in its final moments. Strange, snake-like fish with nightmarish teeth locked in battle beneath murky waters. Creatures that should not exist.

Iruka's hands trembled slightly as he flipped to another painting.

A dragonfly.

But not the kind he knew.

This one had a wingspan of nearly a meter, its transparent wings stretched wide, its body thick and segmented like a predator ready to strike. It was perched on a branch, its mandibles open—waiting, calculating. The eyes… they were painted with intent.

Not just an animal.

A thinking being.

Iruka looked up at Hiruzen, pale. "What… what is this?"

Hiruzen sighed, rubbing his temples. "These are all gifts from Naruto."

Iruka stared. "Gifts?"

The Hokage nodded. "Every so often, he gives me a painting. He doesn't say why. He simply hands them to me and walks away."

Iruka glanced down again, flipping through more paintings. A praying mantis lunging at a helpless beetle, its spiked limbs already closing in. A colossal millipede, curling around itself in the darkness of a primeval forest, its countless legs merging into the shadows.

Each painting was… stunning.

But wrong.

This level of detail. This understanding of anatomy, of movement, of predation—

Naruto wasn't supposed to know these things.

He was a child.

"Hokage-sama," Iruka whispered, throat dry, "this is not normal."

Hiruzen sighed. "I know."

Iruka struggled to find the right words. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "I thought… maybe the Kyuubi was influencing him, but this isn't—this doesn't feel like that."

"No," Hiruzen agreed, "this has nothing to do with the Kyuubi."

Iruka hesitated, flipping through another scroll. His breath caught.

A bird.

But not just any bird.

It had long, feathered arms instead of wings. A clawed beak, razor-sharp, its eyes burning with primal hunger. Feathers that weren't just for flight, but for hunting. A predator, perched upon the bones of its latest kill.

Iruka inhaled sharply.

"This…" he whispered, stunned. "This is an Archaeopteryx."

Hiruzen looked mildly curious. "Is it?"

Iruka turned to him, eyes wide. "Yes! Hokage-sama, this is a prehistoric creature! It existed millions of years ago! There is no possible way Naruto should even know about this, let alone paint it with such accuracy."

Hiruzen sighed, looking down at the paintings with a contemplative gaze. "I've given up trying to explain it."

Iruka clenched his fists. "This level of knowledge… this is beyond strange. This is something an experienced scientist or researcher would struggle to recreate. It's like he's seen them."

The words hung heavy in the air.

Iruka shivered.

That thought—that possibility—sent a deep chill through his spine.

Hiruzen nodded slowly. "I've wondered the same."

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, staring at the unsettling collection before them.

Iruka rubbed his temples. "Naruto… doesn't see things the way we do, does he?"

Hiruzen shook his head. "No."

There was a long pause before he continued. "He doesn't understand why humans love butterflies but hate flies. Why people think some creatures are 'beautiful' and others are 'disgusting.' To him, there is no distinction."

Iruka swallowed. "That's… unnerving."

The Hokage chuckled, though there was no humor in it. "It is merely his nature."

Iruka set the last scroll down, exhaling deeply. His mind reeled.

He had always thought of Naruto as a troublemaker, a lonely boy with too much energy and not enough guidance.

But this?

This was something else entirely.

Naruto wasn't just a boy with strange habits.

He was something… other.

Something no one quite understood.

—ToT—

Naruto didn't look back. Not at first.

He just hopped off the fence, hands in his pockets, and kept walking. His feet scuffed against the dirt path, his mind wandering.

Not my problem. Not my fight.

Those two were older, bigger. Stronger. He'd fought bigger things before, in other lives—wolves, hawks, sharks, humans—but only when he had the power to. Only when survival demanded it.

But Hinata?

She wasn't even trying.

That was what confused him the most.

Even a worm would writhe under a boot. Even a cockroach would scatter.

Yet she just stood there.

The whispers of the other children faded behind him as he rounded the corner of a market stall. He exhaled, rubbing his fingers together absentmindedly. His nails were dirty. He needed to clean them.

Then—

A thump.

A muffled cry.

His ears twitched.

He didn't stop walking.

Another sound. A scuffle. A sharp inhale, like someone had been shoved too hard and lost their breath.

Naruto's steps slowed.

…She wasn't making any noise.

She wasn't crying.

She wasn't screaming.

She wasn't—

He turned around.

The boys were still at it, still sneering, still circling. The crowd of children was shifting, murmuring, some snickering, others awkwardly looking away.

Hinata was on the ground now.

Her tiny hands clenched into fists against the dirt, her head bowed, her pale eyes wide.

Naruto tilted his head.

Still no struggle.

Still no bite.

Why?

The answer should have been simple. She was weak. That was the nature of things. The world was built like that—he was built like that. The strong ate, the weak were eaten.

But something about this felt… different.

This wasn't just nature.

This was human.

And that made it feel wrong.

Naruto exhaled, staring at his feet for a moment.

Then—without thinking—he turned back.

Not too fast. Not too slow.

He didn't run to her. That would be stupid. That would get him beaten up too.

No, he just walked.

Walked right up to the group of kids, hands in his pockets, tilting his head slightly as if he was just passing through.

The older boys barely noticed at first, too caught up in their little game.

It wasn't until Naruto stepped just a bit too close that one of them finally glanced up.

The boy scowled.

"What do you want, freak?"

Naruto didn't answer.

His eyes flicked to Hinata, still curled on the ground.

She was looking at him now.

Wide-eyed.

Confused.

Hopeful.

…Ah.

That was a mistake.

Naruto kept his face blank. Kept his shoulders relaxed.

"Nothing," he said simply.

The second boy snorted. "Then get lost."

Naruto stayed where he was.

The first boy narrowed his eyes. "Are you deaf? Go away."

Again, Naruto said nothing.

He simply shifted his weight—just enough.

Not aggressive. Not defiant.

But enough to make them notice.

The tension changed. The air shifted.

Naruto could feel it.

Predators noticed when another animal entered their territory.

They noticed when someone didn't act the way they expected.

The second boy suddenly scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "Tch. Whatever. This isn't fun anymore."

The first boy hesitated—clearly torn between staying and keeping up appearances—but after a moment, he huffed and kicked some dirt at Hinata's shoes before turning away.

Just like that, they were gone.

Naruto didn't watch them leave.

Didn't gloat. Didn't smirk.

He just crouched down in front of Hinata, resting his elbows on his knees.

She was staring at him.

She still looked confused.

Naruto didn't say anything for a moment, just tilting his head at her the same way he did when watching a strange bug crawl across the pavement.

Then, finally, he asked—

"Why didn't you fight?"

Hinata blinked.

Her lips parted, then closed.

She fidgeted with her sleeves.

"…I…" she started softly, voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know how."

Naruto frowned.

That didn't make sense.

Fighting wasn't something you learned. It was something you did. Something that happened when you had no other choice.

Something that was natural.

"…Hn." He shifted his weight again, eyeing her for a long moment.

Hinata looked down, gripping the hem of her sweater.

"…T-Thank you," she mumbled.

Naruto blinked.

Then shrugged.

"I didn't do anything."

And with that—

He stood up.

And walked away.

Just like before.

But this time…

Naruto wasn't used to being followed.

Well, not by people, at least.

Animals? Sure. He'd had stray dogs tail him, pigeons perch near him, even a squirrel that once wouldn't leave his sleeve. But humans?

Nope.

Which was why it was so weird that Hinata kept tagging along behind him.

He walked. She walked.

He turned. She turned.

He stopped. She stopped.

It was like having a shadow with bad timing.

At first, he ignored it. Maybe she was just going the same way. Maybe it was coincidence.

But when they passed the same fruit stall twice and she was still there, Naruto squinted.

Why?

What did she want?

Was she after his food?

Wait. Did she even know he had food?

Does she think I have food?

That was worse.

Naruto wasn't stingy exactly, but he also wasn't an idiot. He barely had enough food for himself. Sharing meant less food, and less food meant hunger, and hunger meant—

He paused.

Hinata stopped too.

Naruto turned to face her.

"…What?"

Hinata flinched. "H-Huh?"

"You need something?"

Her hands tightened in front of her. "N-No…"

Naruto narrowed his eyes.

"…Okay."

And he turned to leave.

Only for her to keep following him.

Naruto scowled.

Now this was getting suspicious.

Did she want something but was too shy to say?

Or—

Wait.

Was she hunting him?

Was this some new kind of game the village kids made up? Follow the freak until he gets annoyed and chases you off?

That was possible.

Naruto wasn't new to tricks. He knew how human packs worked. He'd seen it before—kids luring him into an alley, laughing like they wanted to play, only to turn on him the moment he let his guard down.

They were predators.

Just like everything else in this village.

So he stopped again.

Turned on his heel.

Narrowed his eyes.

"…What are you doing?"

Hinata nearly tripped over herself. "N-Nothing!"

Naruto didn't blink.

"Then why are you following me?"

She fidgeted. Looked at her feet.

"I—I just—"

Before she could answer—

A sharp voice cut through the street.

"HINATA!"

Naruto's instincts flared.

Something big was coming.

Not big big. Not in size.

But big in pressure.

Like a storm rolling in.

And sure enough—

A man stormed down the street.

Pale eyes.

Dark robes.

A face just like Hinata's, only sharper. Harsher.

Predatory.

Naruto stiffened.

The man stopped right in front of them, towering over Hinata like a wolf about to bite.

"What are you doing?" the man snapped, voice cold.

Hinata shrank back. "F-Father, I—"

"Why are you with him?"

Naruto watched.

Didn't move.

Didn't react.

Just watched.

Because suddenly, this wasn't about him.

This was something else.

Something old.

Something ingrained.

Naruto had seen this dynamic before.

Not in this life.

But in others.

The weak standing before the strong.

Prey before predator.

And the moment Hinata's father stepped forward—

She stepped back.

Not by much.

Not even a full step.

Just a shift. A half-inch of retreat.

But it was enough.

Because Naruto knew—

A creature that expects pain anticipates it.

And Hinata?

She was used to this.

Her father barely spared Naruto a glance. "Come."

Hinata hesitated.

Her fingers twitched.

But in the end—

She obeyed.

Like prey always did.

Naruto watched them go.

His expression didn't change.

His body didn't move.

But his fingers flexed at his sides.

Because—

Something about this left a bad taste in his mouth.

—ToT—

Naruto wasn't a stranger to death.

He'd seen it before.

Again. And again. And again.

The cycle of life and death was something he understood better than any child should.

But still—

Something about this felt wrong.

The dog hadn't just died.

It had lain there. Forgotten.

Discarded.

When Naruto first saw it, he thought it was sleeping.

Its body was curled beneath a tree, fur ruffled by the wind, paws tucked in like it had just settled down for a nap.

But it wasn't breathing.

Its ribs didn't rise.

Its ears didn't twitch.

And the smell—

The smell told him everything he needed to know.

It was rotting.

The flies had found it first.

Naruto stood there for a long moment.

Just looking.

Nobody else was paying attention.

Nobody else cared.

It was just another dead thing in the village.

And maybe it shouldn't have mattered.

Maybe he should have walked away.

But—

He didn't.

Because the sight of it—

The way it just lay there, forgotten and ignored, waiting to be erased—

It made something in his chest itch.

So he buried it.

He didn't know if dogs were supposed to be buried a certain way, or if there was some ritual humans did for them.

But he dug the dirt with his hands, pressed the soil down, and marked the spot with a rock.

There.

Done.

It was better this way.

At least now it wouldn't be left to rot in the open.

At least now—

A sharp kick knocked him to the ground.

Naruto barely had time to process the pain before a voice shrieked above him.

"You little rat! What do you think you're doing to my lawn?!"

He blinked up.

An old woman stood over him, wrinkled face twisted in fury, pointing a gnarled hand at the disturbed dirt.

"You—" She turned, yelling for someone. "Daichi! Get over here! This filthy thing is digging up my yard again!"

Naruto scrambled to his feet, dirt clinging to his hands and knees.

What?

Why?

Why was she mad?

He didn't have time to figure it out before a man—tall, thick-shouldered, reeking of sweat—stormed out of the house.

"What is it, Ma?"

The woman jabbed a finger at Naruto. "He was digging! Making a mess of my lawn! Get rid of it!"

The man's gaze landed on Naruto, then on the barely-covered mound of dirt.

His nose wrinkled.

"Damn stray," he muttered.

And before Naruto could say anything—

The man reached down, grabbed the dead dog by the leg, and hurled it into the dumpster across the street.

Like trash.

Like it was nothing.

Naruto stared.

Something in his stomach twisted.

It was gone.

Just like that.

The woman huffed, brushing her hands off like she'd dealt with something dirty.

"There. Now stay out of my yard."

And then—

They walked away.

Naruto stood there for a long time.

The wind blew.

The smell of garbage drifted through the air.

He didn't move.

Didn't blink.

Something in his chest felt tight.

It wasn't anger.

It wasn't sadness.

It was something else.

Something that made his fingers curl.

Something that made his stomach churn.

Something that made his thoughts itch.

Because this—

This was wrong.

Not in the way humans saw right and wrong.

Not in the way the villagers talked about good and bad.

This was wrong in a natural way.

In the way a tree stripped of its bark was wrong.

In the way a bird with broken wings was wrong.

Something about this world—about these people—

Didn't make sense.

He turned away.

Didn't say anything.

Didn't look back.

Just walked home.

His hands were still dirty when he got inside.

His knees, too.

But he didn't clean them.

Didn't think about them.

Because something else was scratching at his brain now.

Something else he needed to figure out.

88÷2.

The thing Mizuki had tricked him with.

The thing that had made everyone laugh.

He sat on the floor, grabbed the stub of a pencil from his drawer, and stared at the numbers.

88.

89.

A line between them.

What did it mean?

What did any of it mean?

Naruto frowned.

Thought back to the class.

To the way Mizuki had called him up.

To the way everyone had laughed.

They'd known the answer.

Or at least—

They'd known something he didn't.

He hated that.

So he stared at the numbers harder.

Tried to see what they saw.

Tried to understand.

Tried to—

His stomach growled.

Naruto blinked.

Maybe he'd figure it out after dinner.

—ToT—

Next Chapter: Awakening

Chapter Text

Hiruzen Sarutobi was not a fool.

He knew Naruto was lying.

Lying about having a great day in school.

The boy's face was blank, but his body was stiff. Eyes too still. Words too smooth.

It was the kind of lie that wasn’t meant to deceive but to make things easier.

Hiruzen had heard enough of them in his life to recognize one instantly.

Still, he didn’t call him out.

Naruto had no reason to tell the truth.

Not yet.

So instead, the old man smiled, nodding as if he believed it.

"I’m glad to hear that, Naruto."

The boy didn’t answer.

Just kept eating.

Hiruzen watched him, gaze lingering on the way Naruto ate—fast, efficient, like he wasn’t sure if he’d get another meal.

He’d brought plenty of food tonight. Enough for two people to eat their fill.

And yet—

Naruto never wasted a single bite.

Even the smallest scraps of rice were scooped up.

Even the bits of meat stuck to the bone were picked clean.

It was the way a child who’d starved ate.

Hiruzen’s fingers tightened over his chopsticks.

He exhaled slowly.

This village...

This village, which claimed to honor the Will of Fire, the legacy of kindness and family—

Had abandoned this child to fend for himself.

He swallowed down his frustration.

There was no point in showing it.

Not now.

Instead, he changed the subject.

"Iruka gave me something today," Hiruzen said, reaching into his robes.

Naruto barely glanced up, chewing.

Hiruzen pulled out the rolled-up canvas and placed it on the table.

Naruto froze.

Hiruzen didn’t miss it.

Slowly, the boy set his chopsticks down.

His eyes flickered from the painting to Hiruzen’s face.

“What about it?” His voice was even, but his shoulders were tense.

Hiruzen took his time unrolling the canvas.

The inked lines stretched across the paper, revealing the massive, ancient centipede Naruto had drawn.

A creature long extinct, brought to life by a child’s hand.

Even Hiruzen, who had seen many strange things in his years, could not deny how detailed it was. Of course nothing compared to the painting of Hashirama and Madara, but still, extremely well.

Every segment of its armored body was precise. Every leg, every claw, every venomous fang—meticulously crafted.

It was not the work of a child guessing at what a centipede should look like.

It was the work of someone who had seen it.

Who had known it.

"...Where do you get the ideas for these?" Hiruzen asked, keeping his tone light.

Naruto’s expression didn’t change.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then—

"From my dreams," Naruto said. “Dattebane.”

It wasn’t a lie— body language suggested so.

Hiruzen held his gaze for a few seconds longer.

Then, he nodded.

"I see."

The boy relaxed slightly, shoulders easing.

Hiruzen hummed, rolling the painting back up.

"You have quite the imagination, Naruto."

Naruto didn’t answer.

Instead, he picked his chopsticks back up and continued eating.

The conversation should have ended there.

But—

Naruto paused mid-bite, eyes flicking up to Hiruzen.

He hesitated.

Then, softly—

"Why do humans hate animals?"

Hiruzen blinked.

That—

Wasn’t the question he had expected.

The boy wasn’t looking at him now, but his grip on his chopsticks was tight.

Hiruzen sat back, stroking his beard.

"...Hate is a strong word," he said carefully.

Naruto frowned.

"Then why do they hurt them?"

Hiruzen sighed.

Where was this coming from?

The answer became clear a second later when Naruto spoke again—

"They threw away a dead dog today."

Hiruzen’s heart sank.

Ah.

That was why.

He exhaled through his nose, gathering his thoughts.

"...Many humans see animals as lesser than themselves," he said slowly. "They do not consider their lives as valuable as their own."

Naruto stared at him.

Unblinking.

As if Hiruzen had just spoken nonsense.

"But they are alive," Naruto said, confused. "They have hearts. They breathe."

"Yes," Hiruzen agreed.

"Then why?"

Hiruzen rubbed his temple.

How did one explain this to a child?

A child who seemed to view the world differently than everyone else?

After a moment, he sighed.

"Humans..." He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Humans have always placed themselves above other creatures. We build homes. We create tools. We fight wars."

Naruto listened.

Waiting.

"Because we see ourselves as superior, we believe that our lives hold more value. That our needs come first. And because of that... we often treat other creatures as if they matter less."

Naruto frowned.

Still not getting it.

Hiruzen tried again.

"Think of it this way," he said. "If a wolf kills a rabbit, does it hate the rabbit?"

Naruto’s brow furrowed.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's hungry. Dattebane."

"Exactly." Hiruzen nodded. "The wolf does not hate the rabbit. It simply values its own survival more."

Naruto stared at him.

Hiruzen could practically see the gears turning in his head.

Slowly, the boy’s frown deepened.

"So humans see animals... as rabbits?"

Hiruzen winced.

Not exactly the lesson he had intended.

"Some do," he admitted. "But not all."

Naruto was quiet.

He turned his gaze down to his food, thinking.

Processing.

And Hiruzen—

Hiruzen could tell he didn’t understand.

Not really.

Not yet.

One day, perhaps.

But not today.

Naruto picked up his chopsticks again and continued eating in silence.

Hiruzen sighed.

He had a feeling that wasn’t the last time Naruto would ask such questions.

—ToT—

The night was thick with mist, weaving between the trees like ghostly fingers. The Forest of Death loomed before him, its towering trees stretching into the abyss above. Naruto stood at the edge, inhaling deeply.

It had been so long since he’d stepped into a real forest.

So long since he felt the earth soft beneath his feet, damp with life.

He had been so many things before this life—a beetle burrowing into damp wood, a tiger slinking through dense underbrush, a falcon slicing the sky.

But this life—this one—had kept him caged.

Tonight, there was no cage.

Tonight, he ran.

He leapt from root to branch, his small frame light as air. The wind howled, rustling the canopy, but he moved with it, not against it. Leaves blurred past his vision, damp moss cushioned his bare feet.

A fox darted past him. He followed.

A snake slithered from the underbrush. He reached down, and it curled around his arm, warm and unafraid.

They did not fear him.

Not the boa that coiled lazily around a branch.

Not the tiger that slunk beside him, its massive paws silent against the loamy ground.

Not the crows that cawed above, circling like silent sentinels.

Even the insects, in all their myriad forms, swarmed in harmony around him.

For the first time in six years, he was not an outsider.

He was not scorned, not hated, not whispered about behind cruel hands.

Here, in this forgotten realm of claw and fang, he belonged.

He exhaled, breath misting in the cool night air.

This was freedom.

True freedom.

But even freedom had an end.

The village would awaken soon. He had to return.

So he turned, taking one last glance at the wild paradise around him, before stepping away.

Then—

Click.

A single sound.

Subtle. Small.

But unmistakable.

He barely had time to widen his eyes before the world erupted.

Pain.

A sharp, searing heat tore through his side, yanking his small body backward.

Darkness swallowed him, the wind rushing from his lungs as his back slammed into the earth.

A trap.

A wire? A seal?

No—kunai.

He tried to move, but something was wrong.

His limbs felt heavy, sluggish. A sharp, acrid scent filled his nose.

Poison?

Footsteps.

Crunching over twigs and leaves, drawing closer.

A shadow loomed over him.

And then—

"Man," a voice drawled, casual and unconcerned, "who knew I’d have to kill a brat on my third night as a spy? People in the  village  are gonna laugh their asses off."

Naruto tried to speak.

But the darkness was too heavy.

The weight of it crushed him.

And then—

Silence.

—ToT—

The Iwa spy, a man hardened by war and shadow, had never felt fear in his thirty-six years of life.

Not when he’d infiltrated Suna and slit a daimyo’s throat before the man could scream.

Not when he’d walked alone into Kiri’s Blood Mist, leaving without a single scratch.

Not even when he was tortured for six days in a Kumo dungeon before breaking free and burning it to the ground.

But now?

Now, as he stared into the glowing, unnatural blue of the child’s eyes—he felt something curl in his gut.

Something cold.

Something primal.

The boy was supposed to be dead. His blade had cut deep, slicing through muscle, nicking the spine. The wound was precise, fatal.

But he was standing.

"You... attacked me," the child said, voice smooth. Unbothered.

A six-year-old child should not sound like that.

Should not stand like that.

The Iwa spy took a slow step back. His kunai felt wrong in his grip.

He’d seen some sick experiments in his time—had even killed a few of Konoha’s little ‘projects’ before they could reach the battlefield.

Danzo. Orochimaru.

Two sides of the same rotten coin, playing god with bodies that never belonged to them.

Had this child been one of theirs?

Was that why his wound was gone?

The boy glanced down at his body. A deep frown creased his brow, but not from pain. No, there was something else—

Something like curiosity.

"Yet I am not dead," the boy muttered. "Dattebane."

His tone was almost... disappointed.

The spy swallowed thickly. His grip tightened on his kunai.

Enough of this. He’d kill him properly this time. Whatever freakish thing kept him standing, he’d cut through it.

The spy took a step forward—

"The wound..." The child spoke again, his voice detached. Distant. "It's like when I was a Hydra… the interstitial cells..."

Hydra?

What the hell was he talking about?

The spy lunged. He didn’t need to understand this madness. He only needed to end it.

The kunai arced through the air, sharp and true—

But before it could strike—

A hand caught his wrist.

No.

Not just caught—crushed.

"Gah!" The spy gasped, his fingers forced open by sheer pressure. His kunai fell to the forest floor.

The boy’s grip was like iron. No, worse than iron. It was alive, pulsing, adjusting—

His bones cracked.

The pain was unbearable.

"Interesting..." The boy tilted his head. "So I can use a chimpanzee’s grip too?"

What.

The spy yanked his arm back with all the force he could muster, leaping away, distancing himself. His hand—his dominant hand—was ruined.

This was no child.

This was something else.

A freak. A monster. A failed experiment.

He had to leave.

Forget killing the brat. He had the intel he needed—Konoha had something unnatural in its hands.

He needed to report this to the Tsuchikage.

With a burst of chakra, he fled.

One leap. Two. Three—

And then—

Something moved.

Not moved—teleported.

No sound. No rustle of leaves. No shift in air.

And yet—

The boy was suddenly hanging upside down in front of him, hands and legs gripping the tree branch like a spider.

"Spider-monkey."

The spy’s heart nearly stopped.

He veered left, but the child was there.

Veered right—there again.

No hesitation. No fear.

The boy studied him.

Like he was nothing more than another piece of the forest.

Another animal to dissect.

The spy had had enough.

This had to end.

His one good hand flew to his pouch, fingers pulling out a smoke tag—

"Black Panther."

The world blurred.

The boy vanished.

Not in the way a shinobi vanishes—no, there was no flicker, no burst of chakra displacement.

It was natural.

Fluid.

Like a predator.

Then—he was there.

Too fast.

Too close.

The spy barely dodged, his body twisting midair, but before he could recover—

"Chimpanzee."

A snap.

A sharp, sickening pop.

For a moment, the world tilted.

The trees spun. The sky spun.

Then—

Nothing.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

—ToT—

Naruto stared at the blood staining his hands. It was warm. Sticky. He flexed his fingers, feeling it smear between them. The scent was sharp, metallic. It clung to him, to his clothes, to his skin.

He had lived over a million lives. He had died a million deaths. Yet never, not once, had he killed a human before.

It was always him who was hunted. Devoured.

As a mouse, he had felt the snap of an owl’s beak closing around his tiny ribs.

As a fish, he had been swallowed whole, his world turning to darkness as razor-sharp teeth shredded his body.

As a deer, he had run—fast, faster—but the lion had been faster. Claws digging into his throat. Teeth sinking into his spine. As a horse, he had been killed in war, in betrayal, in cold blood.

But now—

Now he was the one who had killed.

Why?

His grip tightened. His nails dug into his palm, dragging red streaks through the blood.

The man had been running away. He had already lost.

So why had Naruto killed him?

He didn’t know.

He should feel something, shouldn't he? Guilt? Regret? Relief?

But all he felt was... nothing.

Naruto lifted his head to the sky. The moon hung heavy, glowing silver against the black void. It was beautiful. A constant presence across all his lives.

It's 3 a.m.

How did he know that?

As a wolf, he had known time instinctively, even in the darkest nights. His body had understood the world in a way no human’s ever could. The pull of the earth. The way the stars shifted. The scent of morning before it arrived.

Was that why?

A strange thought curled in his mind.

He had never been able to use his past lives’ abilities before. Each time he died, his skills—his instincts—vanished, locked away in the body of whatever he became next.

A fish could not use the speed of a cheetah.

A deer could not wield the venom of a snake.

A rabbit could not fly like a hawk.

One set of abilities per species. That was the rule.

That had always been the rule.

But now...

Now he was human.

And for the first time, he could remember.

Not just memories. Not just knowledge.

Abilities.

The raw, physical instincts of creatures that had lived and died before him.

Naruto closed his eyes. Took a breath.

Then—

"Cheetah."

The world blurred.

The ground vanished beneath his feet. The trees stretched past him, flickering shapes in the night. Wind roared in his ears, tearing at his clothes, biting his skin.

Speed.

Pure, unrestrained, unfiltered speed.

It was not chakra. It was not the artificial, shinobi-created speed of the Body Flicker.

No, this was real.

This was muscle and bone. This was evolution refined over thousands of years. This was instinct.

He ran.

Faster.

Faster.

His heart pounded in his chest, but not in exhaustion. His lungs expanded, feeding oxygen to his limbs, keeping him from tiring. His feet barely touched the ground before launching forward again, his body moving with precision honed through millions of lifetimes.

He could see.

The night did not hinder him. Shadows held no secrets. The forest stretched out before him in perfect clarity, each detail crisp and sharp, as if the world had been waiting for him to awaken to this sight.

The speed did not scare him.

It felt right.

Naruto's lips curled.

He had never been strong before. Never been the hunter.

But now?

Now he could be anything.

—ToT—

Chapter Text

Humans See Things Differently

Itachi crouched beside the corpse, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—his Sharingan—missed nothing.

Shisui stood beside him, arms crossed, brows furrowed in thought. He exhaled slowly, his sharp gaze trailing over the surrounding scene, piecing together the fragmented story the forest had left behind.

"The killer was small," Shisui said finally, voice steady but contemplative. His fingers hovered over the dead man's crushed throat. "Judging by the angle of impact, the attacker had to reach up to do this. Could be an animal—maybe a trained monkey, or a dog summoned by one of the Inuzuka."

Itachi hummed, examining the deep bruising around the man's broken neck. The sheer force required to snap a trained shinobi's cervical spine like that... It was not something a typical animal could do.

Not unless it had monstrous strength.

"There's more," Shisui continued, pointing at the broken wrist. "The man fought back. His dominant arm was shattered first—see the fractures? He was disarmed, literally. But that wasn't what killed him. He tried to flee."

He turned, eyes following the disturbed branches high above. The patterns in the dirt told a clear story.

"He leapt from tree to tree. Then—" Shisui bent down, touching the indent of clawed bark on one branch. "Something fast—lighter than him—landed here. There's a distinct forward momentum, which means it lunged."

He traced the scuffle marks on the forest floor. "The man fell back. See how the dirt is disturbed? He landed on his butt, hands behind him, trying to push away."

Itachi's gaze swept over the body again. The trajectory made sense. The wounds confirmed it.

Shisui glanced back at him. "And then, the finishing blow." His fingers brushed the corpse's broken neck. "A single, powerful grip. No hesitation. No struggle. Just... snap."

The forest was silent.

Both Uchiha stared down at the dead Iwa shinobi.

Small. Fast. Agile.

A terrifying grip strength.

"What animal could do this?" Shisui muttered. "A monkey? A puma? A chimpanzee?" His expression darkened. "Or an extremely well-trained Root ANBU?"

Itachi didn't answer right away. His Sharingan spun slowly, scanning every trace of the fight.

The Iwa spy had been skilled. That much was clear. He had been good enough to infiltrate Konoha undetected, which meant he wasn't some amateur.

And yet—he had died here, in this forest, not by the hands of an elite shinobi, not by an ambush of Konoha ANBU.

But by something else.

Something that had hunted him.

Itachi closed his eyes briefly. The silence of the night pressed in around him.

The implications were unsettling.

A dangerous being was lurking within the village.

And whatever it was—it had just claimed its first kill.

—ToT—

Naruto stared at his reflection in the mirror, tilting his head to the side. His bright blue eyes blinked back at him, full of curiosity rather than the usual weariness. He was different now. Stronger. Faster. Something more.

But what did that really mean?

He had lived countless lives, but never once had he been able to carry over his abilities from one life to another. He had always started fresh, as if reborn without memories.

Yet now…

This life was different.

This time, he remembered.

And if he remembered, that meant he could use what he had learned.

But how much could he use?

His fingers flexed, excitement bubbling under his skin. There was only one way to find out.

He took a deep breath, focusing on the changes he wanted.

"Grow horns," he commanded himself.

Nothing.

Naruto frowned. He ran his fingers over his forehead, expecting to feel something—anything—push through his skin. But no. It was as smooth as ever.

"Grow a tail," he muttered.

Still nothing.

He sighed. So physical transformations were impossible. That was fine. He never really liked the idea of having a tail anyway—too easy to grab in a fight.

But that didn't mean everything was impossible.

His abilities were real. He had felt them in the Forest of Death. He had moved like a cheetah. Gripped like a chimpanzee. Seen in the dark like a wolf.

He just had to understand how it all worked.

Naruto glanced around his tiny apartment, his eyes settling on a dusty weight scale tucked under his bed.

Perfect.

He pulled it out, placing it in front of the mirror. Taking a deep breath, he stepped onto it. The rusty dial wobbled before settling on a number.

17 kilos.

That sounded about right for his size. Not for his age.

Now for the test.

Naruto focused, closing his eyes. He thought back to his time as a wolf, when the entire world had been a symphony of scents, each one layered and distinct.

He inhaled deeply.

The stale air of his apartment filled his lungs—along with something else.

The faint, lingering scent of old food. The ink from his scattered drawings. The damp, moldy wood of his walls.

And beyond that—outside.

The trees near the training grounds, the sweat of shinobi running past. The scent of dumplings cooking at a stall three streets away. The unmistakable tang of blood somewhere far off in the village.

His eyes snapped open.

I can smell everything.

Naruto glanced down at the scale.

The number hadn't changed. Still 17 kilos.

So—his weight remained the same.

His body didn't physically change when he accessed his past abilities.

That was interesting.

That meant his muscles weren't actually growing stronger when he used the grip of a chimpanzee. His legs didn't become longer when he ran like a cheetah.

It was something else.

Something deeper.

Naruto frowned.

He had a lot of testing to do.

—ToT—

The Academy's training ground was buzzing with excitement as students gathered around, eager to watch the first official spars.

Some were hyped. Some were nervous. Others—like Shikamaru—looked like they wanted to crawl into a hole and take a nap instead.

Naruto didn't really care either way.

He sat on the grass, watching as the first few matches played out.

Hinata was hesitant, barely throwing a punch before her match was called off. Choji fidgeted too much, unwilling to go all out against his opponent. Shikamaru just sighed and forfeited without even trying.

Shino fought Ino and won—mostly because Ino freaked out when his bugs crawled all over her.

Kiba took down Sakura with ease, and the match wasn't even close. Akamaru sat on the sidelines, barking in excitement as Kiba overwhelmed her with speed and strength.

Then—

"Next match! Sasuke Uchiha versus Naruto Uzumaki!" Mizuki called.

The crowd buzzed.

Naruto blinked, looking at the teacher before turning his gaze toward Sasuke.

The Uchiha was already standing in the middle of the sparring ring, rolling his shoulders with a confident smirk. The other kids—especially the girls—whispered excitedly.

Naruto stood up, walking to the center. He could feel eyes on him. Curious ones. Wary ones.

Disgusted ones.

He ignored them.

He didn't care what they thought.

"Start!" Mizuki signaled.

Sasuke charged.

Naruto remained still.

There was no hesitation in the Uchiha's movements. His form was solid, his stance balanced. A textbook charge—predictable, but effective.

Sasuke pulled back a fist, aiming for Naruto's midsection—

Then—

"Gah!"

Sasuke recoiled, his scream piercing through the air.

The boy dropped to the ground, clutching his wrist, his face twisted in agony. He writhed, rolling on the dirt like he had been electrocuted.

Gasps echoed through the crowd.

Naruto blinked, looking at a horrified Mizuki.

"Is that my win?"

The training grounds erupted into chaos.

"Sasuke-kun!"

"What happened?!"

"He didn't even move!"

"Naruto did something!"

Mizuki was already rushing forward, kneeling beside Sasuke, who was still groaning in pain. His wrist looked swollen—bruised.

Naruto tilted his head.

He hadn't even done anything.

At least, not in the way they thought.

All he had done was activate the ability of a turtle—a shell as hard as stone.

Sasuke had punched him and hurt himself instead.

Naruto glanced down at his own stomach, pressing a hand against it. He felt nothing. No pain, no soreness.

His body had absorbed the impact effortlessly.

Interesting.

Mizuki quickly took Sasuke away to the infirmary, his face pale as he barked at Iruka to continue the class.

The other students stared at Naruto.

Some with suspicion.

Some with fear.

The girls—especially Ino and Sakura—were glaring at him like he had committed a crime.

Naruto just stared back.

Hadn't he won?

Wasn't that the goal?

Then why was everyone acting like he had done something wrong?

Iruka's brows furrowed as he watched Mizuki disappear with Sasuke, then turned his gaze toward Naruto. The tension in the air was thick, the other students still whispering and sneaking wary glances at him.

Iruka sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before crouching slightly to look Naruto in the eyes.

"Naruto," he said, keeping his voice even, "how did you do that?"

Naruto tilted his head. "Do what?"

Iruka's lips pressed into a thin line. "Sasuke hit you, but he got hurt. You didn't even move. That's not normal."

Naruto shrugged. "I didn't do anything, dattebane."

Iruka frowned. "Naruto—"

"Isn't winning the goal?" Naruto interrupted, blinking up at him.

Iruka hesitated.

"Yes, but—"

"Then I won. Why does it matter?"

Iruka stared at him for a long moment, something flickering in his expression—something Naruto couldn't place.

Then, the man straightened, exhaling sharply.

"Alright, since you won't explain, you get to clean the Academy's training field for the rest of the day," Iruka announced.

Naruto blinked.

...Why?

He won the match. Shouldn't that mean he could go home early?

But he didn't argue.

He had learned long ago that arguing with humans rarely got him anywhere.

So he just shrugged. "Okay."

Iruka sighed again. "Go get the cleaning supplies from the shed."

Naruto turned and walked off, feeling the weight of every gaze still lingering on him.

It didn't matter.

He had more important things to think about.

Like how he could make his body that strong again.

—ToT—

At least Ichiraku's was still his nice place.

Naruto sat on the wooden stool, slurping up his ramen, the warmth spreading through his chest. The comforting scent of broth and spices drowned out the day's events, pushing them to the back of his mind.

Ayame leaned on the counter, watching him with amusement. "You always eat like you haven't seen food in weeks, Naruto."

Naruto swallowed. "Ramen's good, dattebane."

Ayame giggled. "You say that every time."

Teuchi, wiping his hands on a towel, chuckled. "Well, at least we have our most loyal customer. You been behaving in the Academy, kid?"

Naruto paused mid-bite.

...Define behaving.

He decided not to answer that. Instead, he slurped his noodles louder.

Teuchi raised a brow but didn't press. "Hah, figures."

Ayame tilted her head. "You look deep in thought, Naruto. Something on your mind?"

Naruto hesitated. Then, between bites, he mumbled, "Why do humans get mad at things they don't understand?"

Ayame blinked. "...That's a weird question."

Teuchi, however, hummed, scratching his chin. "Well, people don't like what they can't explain. Makes 'em uncomfortable."

"Why?"

"Because the unknown is scary," Teuchi said simply.

Naruto frowned.

Scary?

The unknown wasn't scary. It was just...unknown.

But maybe humans saw things differently.

—ToT—

Naruto blinked. He had been minding his own business, wandering through the marketplace, when he spotted a familiar figure in civilian clothes.

Weasel.

Except he wasn't wearing his usual ANBU mask and armor. No, today, he was just a normal-looking guy with long black hair and sharp, intelligent eyes. Beside him stood a woman who bore a striking resemblance to him—same raven hair, same calm demeanor.

The woman noticed him first. Her dark eyes widened, then softened, and before Naruto could react, she let out a delighted coo.

"Oh my, you must be Naruto-kun!"

Naruto stiffened.

Why was she looking at him like that? Like she...knew him?

She crouched slightly to be more at his height, a warm smile gracing her lips. "Itachi, you never told me he was this adorable!"

Adorable?

Naruto didn't know how to respond to that. He wasn't sure if he should be flattered or insulted.

Itachi—no, Weasel—glanced at him and gave a small nod. "Naruto, this is my mother, Mikoto Uchiha."

Mikoto Uchiha.

Sasuke's mother.

That explained the similar face.

Mikoto reached out, as if she wanted to ruffle his hair, but Naruto instinctively stepped back. Her hand paused in midair before she chuckled softly, letting it drop. "Oh, sorry, dear. I didn't mean to startle you."

Naruto didn't say anything. His eyes flickered toward Itachi.

Why was he being introduced to someone's mother?

Itachi seemed to sense his confusion. "My mother has been wanting to meet you for some time. She's heard a lot about you."

Naruto tilted his head. "Heard what?"

Mikoto smiled. "Oh, Itachi has mentioned you a few times. And Sasuke too."

Naruto's brows furrowed. Sasuke? Why would he talk about him?

Itachi folded his arms. "Sasuke told her you defeated him in a spar."

Oh. That.

Naruto gave a simple nod. "Yes."

Mikoto, to his surprise, didn't look upset. She actually laughed. "Well, I suppose that bruised his pride a little. But I'm sure it was a good learning experience for him."

Naruto frowned. "He cried."

Mikoto's lips twitched in amusement. "Did he now?"

"He glared at me too," Naruto added. "Like this." He narrowed his eyes in an exaggerated, dramatic way.

Mikoto giggled. "Yes, that sounds like Sasuke."

Naruto wasn't sure what to make of this woman. She looked like a noble clan lady, well-dressed and refined, yet she talked to him like he was just some normal kid. Most adults either ignored him or looked at him with disdain.

Mikoto clasped her hands together. "Sasuke is a good boy. Perhaps you two can be friends?"

Naruto blinked. "Friends?"

"Yes," Mikoto said warmly. "You're both in the same class, right? I think it would be nice if you got along."

Naruto glanced at Itachi, then back at Mikoto. "He doesn't like me. Dattebane."

Mikoto smiled patiently. "That doesn't mean you can't be friends in the future. Sometimes, friendships start unexpectedly."

Naruto wasn't sure about that. Sasuke glared at him too much. And the girls in class already looked like they wanted to throw him into a fire for 'hurting' their precious Uchiha prince.

Still...

Mikoto's kindness felt strange.

"Friends, huh," Naruto mumbled.

Mikoto reached out again, but this time, she was slower. She lightly brushed his hair back in a motherly way, and Naruto found himself frozen in place. It felt...weird.

But not bad.

"Just think about it, okay?" she said gently.

Naruto gave a slow nod.

Mikoto smiled before straightening up. "Well, Itachi, we should get going. We still have to pick up a few things for dinner."

Itachi nodded. "Of course."

Mikoto looked down at Naruto one last time. "It was nice meeting you, Naruto-kun. Be good, alright?"

Naruto just blinked at her as she and Itachi walked away.

He wasn't sure what just happened.

But for some reason, the warmth of her hand on his head lingered.

TBC

Chapter Text

I Am Learning

Naruto spotted him near the edge of the training grounds, lounging under a tree, completely engrossed in a small orange book. The sun was starting to dip, casting long shadows, but the silver-haired man didn't seem to notice.

Naruto squinted.

That hair...

That posture...

That stupid mask...

"Inu?"

The man's visible eye flicked up from his book. He blinked once, then tilted his head slightly, as if trying to remember something.

Then he sighed. "Ah. Haven't been called that in a while."

Naruto walked closer, stopping just a few feet away. He glanced at the book in the man's hands.

"Icha Icha...Tactics?"

Inu—no, Kakashi—didn't even bother hiding it. He just held it up a little, as if presenting a masterpiece. "Mm-hmm."

Naruto frowned. He'd seen people read before, but this book... "What's it about?"

Kakashi's eye curved into something that might've been a smirk. "Ah, Naruto, you're still too young for this kind of literature."

Naruto crossed his arms. "It's just a book."

Kakashi chuckled. "Yes. And the ocean is just water."

Naruto narrowed his eyes. "So, it's a bad book?"

"Oh no," Kakashi said, turning a page. "It's a very good book."

Naruto eyed him warily. "Then why can't I read it?"

Kakashi's eye flicked to him, amused. "Because I'm sure the Hokage would tan my hide if I let you."

Naruto huffed. That old man always got in the way of things.

Kakashi snapped the book shut, slipping it into his pocket. "So, what brings you here, Naruto?"

Naruto stared at him for a moment. It was odd seeing him like this. Not in his ANBU mask, not lurking in the background, just...there.

"You're different," Naruto said bluntly.

Kakashi blinked. "Oh?"

"You talk more."

Kakashi chuckled. "I suppose I do."

Naruto tilted his head. "Why?"

Kakashi hummed, tapping his fingers against his knee. "ANBU life is...different from normal life. When I'm wearing the mask, I don't have to talk much. But out here?" He gestured vaguely. "I can relax."

Naruto wasn't sure how to respond to that.

"So," Kakashi continued, eyeing him curiously. "You were looking for me?"

Naruto hesitated. "Not really. Just saw you."

Kakashi nodded, as if that answer made perfect sense. "Well, since you're here, how's life treating you?"

Naruto considered that. "Strange."

Kakashi chuckled. "That's a very Naruto answer."

Naruto frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means you've always been a little...different."

Naruto didn't know if that was a compliment or not.

Kakashi stretched, his arms lazily reaching above his head. "Well, since you're here, want some advice?"

Naruto crossed his arms. "Depends."

Kakashi's eye curved into that unreadable smirk again. "Hmm. Alright, how about this? In life, sometimes it's better to be underestimated."

Naruto raised a brow. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Kakashi said, standing up, "that sometimes, letting people think you're weaker than you are is a strength."

Naruto blinked. "...So, act dumb?"

Kakashi chuckled. "Not dumb. Just...not obvious."

Naruto thought about that. It made some sense. If people didn't know what he could do, they wouldn't prepare for it.

Kakashi ruffled his hair. "You'll get it eventually."

Naruto scowled, swatting his hand away, he couldn't let his lazy cat instincts surface. "Don't do that."

Kakashi just laughed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "See you around, Naruto."

And just like that, he strolled off, humming to himself.

Naruto watched him go.

What a weird guy.

—ToT—

The day had been long, and Naruto found himself wandering through the quieter streets of the village, away from the usual crowded markets and noisy food stalls. It wasn't often that he had nothing to do, no chores, no academy punishments, no old man Hokage asking him questions. Just the world as it was, waiting to be explored. His feet carried him near an alley where faint mewling sounds made him pause.

A small cluster of stray cats huddled near an overturned crate, their thin bodies pressed close together. Some were still kittens, barely more than fur and bones. Their ears twitched as they noticed him, some slinking further into the shadows while others simply stared. Naruto crouched down, watching them. He had seen animals in all forms, had lived as them in past lives, had been everything from the predator to the prey, but in this life, he was human. And humans often overlooked creatures like these.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out the half-eaten fish bun he had saved from earlier. It wasn't much, but it was something. He tore off small pieces and placed them on the ground, inching back to give them space. The braver ones came forward first, sniffing cautiously before snatching up the food. The weaker ones hesitated, waiting until the others had eaten before creeping up to claim the leftovers.

Naruto watched in silence, thoughts drifting. How odd it was, the way creatures acted. In his previous lives, he had been part of so many different systems—packs, swarms, prides, herds. The strong ate first. The weak fought for scraps. But humans didn't always do that. Sometimes the weak were given more. Sometimes they were protected. But sometimes, they were left behind. Like these cats. Like him.

Once they had finished eating, he stood up, dusting off his clothes. The cats wouldn't remember him by tomorrow, but that didn't matter. He had fed them today.

He continued walking until he reached the familiar scent of ink and paper. A bookshop. He paused outside, eyes flicking over the shelves visible through the window. He wasn't here to buy anything—he never had the money for that—but that had never stopped him before. Slipping inside, he kept his steps light, his presence small, moving past the shopkeeper without so much as a glance.

Books lined the shelves in neat rows, their spines worn from use. He scanned the titles until he found what he was looking for—books on animals, old ones. Not the kind kids at the Academy read about, but the ones buried in history. He ran his fingers along the spines, pulling one free and flipping it open. The pages were yellowed, the words dense, but he read quickly, absorbing the information.

Some of the creatures described were ones he had been. He saw their names, the scientific words humans had given them. Some he recognized instantly—mammoth, dire wolf, titanoboa. Others were new to him. The humans had studied them, drawn their bones, guessed at how they moved, but they didn't know them the way he did. They called the saber-toothed cat "Smilodon," wrote about its fangs and hunting patterns, but Naruto knew what it had felt like to sink those teeth into prey. They described the ankylosaurus as a walking fortress, but Naruto remembered the weight of its armor, the sluggish strength in its limbs.

He flipped through another book, this one about insects. Prehistoric dragonflies with wingspans as wide as birds. Ancient centipedes the length of tree trunks. The details were fascinating, but something nagged at him. They were missing something.

The feeling of being them.

Humans could write all they wanted, sketch bones and fossils, debate over what these creatures had been like, but none of them knew what it was to be inside those bodies, to live with instincts that weren't human, to see the world through eyes that weren't shaped for human vision. He had been these creatures. Lived, breathed, died as them.

And now, he was human.

The thought sat heavy in his chest.

Why?

Why did he remember? Why did he carry all these lives with him, stitched into the very fabric of his being? He had died a thousand times, a million times, and yet each time, he came back knowing.

A voice interrupted his thoughts. The shopkeeper had started moving toward his corner of the store. Naruto slipped the book back into place, stepping away just as the man turned the corner. He didn't make a sound as he walked out the door.

Back on the street, the air felt different, heavier. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because, for the first time, he had looked at the world humans had built around his past lives. Maybe it was because he was starting to understand something—something just out of reach.

Maybe it was because, no matter how much he knew, no matter how many lives he had lived…

He still didn't know what it meant to be human.

—ToT—

The morning came with the usual sounds of the village—vendors setting up their stalls, shinobi moving through the streets, birds calling from the trees. Naruto walked toward the Academy, hands stuffed in his pockets, thinking about the previous day. He had won his spar, but somehow, it hadn't felt like a victory. Sasuke had gotten hurt, and everyone had looked at Naruto like he had done something unforgivable. But wasn't that how fights worked? If you hit someone hard enough, they went down. Simple as that.

When he stepped into the classroom, the usual whispers followed. He ignored them, walking to his seat, but then he noticed Sasuke. The other boy sat at his usual place, his arm resting on the desk, wrist wrapped in white bandages. The girls swarmed around him, their voices high with concern. Sasuke barely acknowledged them, staring out the window with that usual blank expression of his.

Naruto sat down, watching. Was he mad? He should be, right? That's how humans worked. You hurt them, they hated you for it.

Mizuki called him to the front of the class. Naruto went, not really caring, until he saw the look in Mizuki's eyes. That fake, forced patience. The kind that said he was about to be scolded under the guise of teaching a lesson.

"Naruto, you need to apologize to Sasuke," Mizuki said, loud enough for the class to hear.

Naruto blinked. Apologize?

"But I won," he said simply.

Some of the students snickered. Others glared. Mizuki's jaw tightened slightly before he gave that same fake smile.

"You hurt a classmate. It's only right that you apologize."

Naruto sighed, looking at Sasuke. The other boy was watching him now, eyes dark and unreadable. He walked over, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Uh… sorry?" he tried, not really knowing what else to say.

Sasuke looked at him for a long moment. Then, to Naruto's surprise, he shrugged.

"It's fine."

Naruto tilted his head. "Really?"

Sasuke nodded once. He didn't look angry. He didn't look anything.

The girls, on the other hand, were furious.

"Wow, Sasuke-kun is so kind!" one of them swooned. "Even after that monster hurt him!"

"Naruto is so mean! He should be punished!"

"How could he do that to Sasuke-kun?!"

Naruto frowned. What was their problem? It wasn't like Sasuke was dead. He just had a bruised wrist. But they still looked at Naruto like he was some sort of villain, while Sasuke got to be the tragic hero. Humans were weird.

As he walked back to his seat, he thought about Mikoto. She had said Sasuke was a good boy. Had said maybe they could be friends. Naruto didn't really know what friendship was supposed to feel like, but maybe he should try.

When class ended, he didn't hesitate. He walked straight to Sasuke, stopping in front of his desk. The other boy looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey," Naruto said. "Wanna be friends?"

A few nearby students gasped like he had just said something insane. Sasuke blinked, clearly caught off guard. Then his expression returned to its usual neutrality.

"No."

Naruto frowned. That was disappointing. He had thought Mikoto knew what she was talking about.

But then, after a moment, Sasuke tilted his head slightly and added, "Not yet."

Naruto stared.

Not yet?

That… wasn't a no.

He nodded . "Okay. Dattebane"

And with that, he walked off, feeling oddly satisfied.

—ToT—

Math had never been Naruto's favorite subject. Or rather, he never really got the chance to learn it properly. Most of the time, he just got tricked. By Mizuki, by the numbers, by the weird rules humans made for everything. But today was different. He had prepared.

He had spent all night working on division. He had stolen some math books from the library—well, borrowed them, since he had every intention of returning them once he was done—and memorized every rule, every trick. He had practiced on the back of old grocery receipts and wooden planks outside his apartment. He had even solved problems in his head as he walked to the Academy.

So, when Mizuki called him to the board, he went up with confidence. The chalk felt smooth between his fingers as he stared at the numbers.

99÷3.

Easy.

He wrote: 33.

The classroom was silent for a second.

Mizuki frowned.

That was right, wasn't it? Naruto felt something inside him straighten, like he had finally done something the way it was supposed to be done.

"Good," Mizuki said slowly, as if the word tasted bitter in his mouth. He wasn't pleased. Naruto could tell.

Then Mizuki turned back to the board and wrote another problem.

38.9÷2.

Naruto blinked.

Wait. That was new.

He didn't know division with decimal points. He had only practiced with whole numbers. The books he read had barely touched on this. He stared at the numbers, trying to break them apart in his head.

38 divided by 2? That was easy. 19. But the .9? What was he supposed to do with that?

The room was quiet. Everyone was watching.

Mizuki's lips twitched.

Naruto glanced at Iruka. The man had his arms crossed, a frown on his face, but he wasn't saying anything.

This was a trick, wasn't it?

He could feel it, even if he didn't understand it.

"Naruto, answer?" Mizuki prompted.

Naruto hesitated.

Mizuki gave him a long look, then sighed dramatically. "Go outside the class and stand in the hall."

Naruto's hands clenched into fists.

He had been tricked. Again.

The classroom erupted into laughter as he walked out, shutting the door behind him. He leaned against the wooden frame, staring at the floor.

He had been prepared. He had done everything right. And still, it wasn't enough.

The hall was quiet. He could hear the muffled voices inside, the class moving on without him. He hated this. Not just because it was unfair, but because he didn't understand why it kept happening.

Was it because he was stupid?

No. No, that wasn't it. He knew he wasn't dumb. He understood things—things other people didn't. He could remember a hundred different ways to hunt, how to move through trees without making a sound, how to smell rain before it came. He knew how to snap a man's spine like a chimpanzee, how to run like a cheetah, how to see in the dark like an owl. He knew so many things.

But the rules humans made were different. They were strange. And sometimes, no matter how much he learned, it felt like they just changed the rules whenever they wanted.

He glanced down at his hands. They were small. Human.

A million lives, and he had never struggled like this before.

The door opened suddenly, and Iruka stepped out. Naruto straightened.

Iruka didn't look angry. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know, you could've asked for help."

Naruto shrugged. "Wouldn't have mattered."

Iruka frowned. "What do you mean?"

Naruto stared at the ground. He didn't have the words to explain.

Iruka sighed again, crouching slightly so they were at eye level. "Listen, Naruto. Mizuki… isn't always fair."

Naruto snorted. That was an understatement.

"But," Iruka continued, "you're not wrong for struggling with a new problem. That wasn't a basic question. It was meant to be difficult."

Naruto squinted at him. "Then why did he give it to me?"

Iruka hesitated.

Naruto knew why. But he wanted to hear Iruka say it.

"Because he wanted you to fail," Iruka finally admitted. "He wanted to make you look bad in front of everyone."

Naruto felt something tighten in his chest. He looked away.

"But that doesn't mean you actually failed," Iruka added. "It just means you were put in an unfair position."

That… didn't make him feel any better.

"You still did well on the first problem," Iruka pointed out. "You got it right. And next time, you'll know how to do the harder ones, won't you?"

Naruto nodded slowly.

"Good," Iruka said. "Now, come back inside. You shouldn't be standing out here just because Mizuki wants to humiliate you."

Naruto hesitated for a moment before following Iruka back in. The laughter died down as they entered, Mizuki's face twitching slightly.

Naruto didn't sit down. Instead, he walked right up to the board and picked up the chalk.

Mizuki raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Finishing the problem," Naruto said.

A few students snickered.

Naruto ignored them, staring at the numbers. He didn't know how to solve it properly, but he could figure it out. He broke it down in his head. 38 divided by 2 was 19. That part was easy.

But the .9…

He frowned, thinking hard.

He knew from last night's reading that decimal points meant fractions. Something about tenths? If he divided 9 by 2, that was… 4.5, right?

He took a breath and wrote: 19.4.5.

Mizuki's eye twitched.

Naruto looked at Iruka. The man blinked at the board, then at Naruto, then back at the board.

A slow smile tugged at his lips.

"Almost," Iruka said. "You're very close."

Naruto tilted his head. "What's the real answer?"

Iruka took the chalk and wrote: 19.45

Naruto stared.

He had been right.

Well, almost. But that was still better than nothing.

Mizuki was scowling. The students were watching, some of them confused, some of them surprised. Even Sasuke looked vaguely impressed.

Naruto nodded.

Maybe humans had stupid rules. Maybe they changed them whenever they wanted.

But Naruto was learning them.

And next time, Mizuki wouldn't be able to trick him at all.

Chapter Text

Graduation

Months passed in a slow, dragging haze. Seasons changed, the sun rose and fell, and Naruto remained at the bottom of the class. No matter how hard tried, no matter how much he studied, Mizuki always found a way to sabotage him. His test scores were altered, his assignments were marked unfairly, and when he got something right, Mizuki simply moved the goalposts. It became routine. Expected. Naruto stopped reacting after a while. Stopped fighting it. He had learned something important—humans were strange creatures, and the ones in power could bend the rules however they wanted.

But that was fine. The Academy didn't define him. He had other ways to grow.

He still went to the Forest of Death, slipping past the guards, vanishing into the wilderness like a shadow. Out there, he could breathe. He could run and jump and hunt and play, letting his body move in ways it wasn't supposed to. He trained his abilities in secret, pushing them further, testing their limits. He learned how to track, how to climb, how to move faster than human eyes could follow. He learned how to listen—not just with his ears, but with every part of himself, the way prey listened for predators, the way wolves listened to the wind.

Another year passed.

They were all eight years old now.

One day, Naruto sat on the street, idly petting a stray cat. The cat purred against his hand, warm and soft, rubbing its face into his palm. Naruto liked cats. They reminded him of something distant, something he couldn't quite name—memories of being small and quick, of chasing things through the dark, of curling up in high places where no one could reach.

Then, a shadow. Footsteps. Someone stood in front of him.

Naruto looked up. "Weasel."

Itachi smiled, the way he always did. A quiet smile, careful and measured. "It's Itachi, Naruto-kun."

Naruto tilted his head. "Itachi."

Itachi crouched slightly, watching the cat in Naruto's hands. "I see you've found another kitten."

Naruto continued petting the cat. He didn't say anything.

"You know, Naruto, Sasuke often talks about you," Itachi said after a moment. "He says you're a good student, but the Academy teachers sabotage you."

Naruto didn't answer immediately. His fingers ran through the cat's fur, feeling the warmth beneath his palm. "I manage."

Itachi studied him. His dark eyes were calm, unreadable. "You see, Naruto-kun. I'm going on a long mission. Can you promise me something?"

Naruto glanced up. "Why?"

Itachi didn't answer right away. "It will be a long time before I return. And it's because I know you are a good person."

Naruto thought about that for a moment. A good person. He wasn't sure what that meant. He had killed a man once. But animals killed all the time, and they weren't evil.

Still, he nodded. "Ok."

"Be a good friend to Sasuke," Itachi said softly. "And… be there for him."

Naruto thought about Sasuke. Thought about the way he had refused to be friends, but hadn't completely shut the door on it either. Not yet.

"Ok. Dattebane."

Itachi ruffled his hair. Naruto scowled, shaking him off, but Itachi only chuckled. "You should smile more often, Naruto-kun." He stood up. "Now, farewell."

Naruto watched him walk away.

That was the last time he ever saw Weasel.

Because the next day, the air was thick with blood.

The village whispered in hushed, frantic voices. Streets that were normally filled with laughter and chatter were eerily silent. The Uchiha Compound, once a bustling district, was locked down, its gates closed, its pathways stained red.

Itachi Uchiha had slaughtered his own clan.

Killed them all.

His parents. His relatives. His friends.

Everyone, except for one person.

Sasuke.

The lone survivor.

Naruto stood outside the compound, staring at the ANBU stationed at the entrance. He could smell it. Blood. So much of it. It clung to the air, thick and coppery, seeping into the ground, into the walls. He didn't need to see inside to know what it looked like.

Sasuke hadn't come to class that day.

Or the next.

When he finally did, he was different.

He was quiet before, but now he was silent. He didn't talk to anyone, didn't acknowledge anyone. He sat alone. Ate alone. Trained alone. There was something hollow in his eyes, something dark and bottomless, like a wound that couldn't close.

Naruto didn't try to talk to him.

What could he say?

He didn't know what it was like to have a family, but he knew what it was like to be alone.

So he just… stayed nearby. Close enough to be there, but not close enough to intrude.

Weeks passed.

The village moved on, as villages always did.

Sasuke didn't.

One evening, Naruto found him in the training grounds, standing in front of a battered log. His hands were clenched into fists, his body trembling. The sun was setting, painting the sky in deep oranges and purples.

Naruto didn't say anything.

Sasuke punched the log. Again. And again. His knuckles were raw, split open, blood smearing against the wood. His breath came in ragged gasps.

Naruto sat down on a nearby rock, watching.

Sasuke didn't acknowledge him.

For a long time, there was only the sound of fists hitting wood, over and over.

Then, finally, Sasuke stopped. He stood there, panting, shoulders heaving. His hands shook at his sides.

Naruto spoke.

"It wasn't your fault."

Sasuke flinched.

Naruto didn't elaborate. He didn't need to.

Sasuke turned slightly, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Go away."

Naruto didn't move.

Sasuke clenched his fists. "I said, go away."

Naruto tilted his head. "Not yet."

Sasuke stared at him.

Naruto met his gaze, unblinking.

Sasuke exhaled sharply, turning away. He sat down heavily on the ground, arms resting on his knees. His face was shadowed, the last light of the sun slipping behind the trees.

They sat in silence.

Naruto didn't speak again.

But he didn't leave, either.

—ToT—

Years slipped by like water through fingers, silent and inevitable. Time didn't wait, didn't care. The world moved forward, the village kept turning, but Sasuke… Sasuke never came back from that night.

Before, he had been distant, but now he was something else entirely. Cold. Hollow. Like a blade sharpened too thin, cutting without meaning to. He didn't talk much, didn't engage. Every interaction was short, clipped, functional. There was no room for warmth. He trained harder than anyone, took every lesson, every spar, every test as a challenge, a fight he had to win. Not for glory. Not for praise. Just because. Because losing wasn't an option. Because weakness wasn't allowed. Because there was something in him that refused to rest.

He had no friends.

Naruto didn't either.

Not that he really cared. It wasn't anything new. No one in their class wanted to be around him. He was too weird, too quiet, too unpredictable. If he wasn't being scolded by the teachers, he was ignored. If he wasn't ignored, he was whispered about. He was creepy. Strange. Unnerving. He sat alone at lunch, worked alone during class. That was fine. He didn't need them. He had always been alone. He was used to it.

He still had the Forest of Death.

He still had himself.

He still had his past lives, their echoes in his skin, their instincts in his bones.

So he trained.

He honed himself in ways no one else could understand. His body adapted, shifted, changed in ways that weren't visible but were undeniably there. His grip became stronger, his balance perfect. His senses expanded beyond human limits. He moved like no one else, ran like the wind, saw in the dark like an owl, heard like a wolf. He didn't need jutsu. He didn't need tricks. He had something else. Something deeper. Something older.

The Academy felt smaller now. Constricting. A cage made of rules and expectations he didn't care about.

Graduation was coming soon.

Finally.

—ToT—

The space around him rippled like disturbed water, shifting between red and black. The scent of damp stone, thick iron, and something deeper—something old—filled his senses. It was cold here, colder than it should be, and yet the air was thick, almost suffocating. A massive cage loomed before him, stretching higher than any building he had ever seen. The bars, thick as tree trunks, pulsed with an eerie glow, humming with power. And behind them…

The Fox.

A being of raw hatred, coiled muscle, and seething malice.

It moved like a storm given flesh, tails flicking lazily, each one a force of destruction on its own. Its fur bristled, thick and wild, and its eyes—massive, burning—locked onto him like he was prey. Then it lunged.

Claws swiped, teeth snapped, the ground shook with its movements—but the bars held. The barrier did not waver. Naruto did not move.

The Kyuubi sneered, stepping back, tails lashing behind it. "You don't flinch, brat. Are you not afraid?"

Naruto tilted his head, expression unreadable. "Why would I be afraid?"

The Fox narrowed its eyes.

"You are caged," Naruto continued, voice quiet, calm. "You cannot harm me."

The beast snarled, fangs bared. "Tch. You're an arrogant little pest, aren't you?"

Naruto did not answer. His gaze never wavered, sharp and unwavering as he studied the creature before him.

Then, finally, he spoke. "Why did you kill my parents?"

A slow silence settled.

Then laughter—deep, guttural, filled with something dark and heavy. It rolled through the chamber, vibrating through the very air.

"Why?" the Kyuubi mused, voice thick with cruel amusement. "Because I hated them, of course."

Naruto watched. He didn't react. Didn't blink.

"I despised your father. I despised your mother. Their arrogance, their chains, their wretched existence. They thought they could control me. Tame me." The beast snarled, voice dripping with venom. "I am the Kyuubi no Kitsune! The strongest of the Tailed Beasts! I bow to no one! And so… I killed them."

The words hung in the air, heavy and absolute.

Naruto's expression did not change. He only blinked once. Slowly. Then, as if considering something, he asked, "So… you killed them because you liked it?"

Silence.

Then the Kyuubi grinned.

"Liked it? No, you misunderstand, brat. I loved it." It leaned forward, a cruel glint in its eyes. "I loved the feeling of my claws piercing their flesh. I loved the scent of their blood in the air. I loved watching their faces contort in pain as their lives drained away. It was delicious."

Naruto listened. His face remained blank.

"You are evil, then?" he asked, tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather.

The Kyuubi barked a laugh. "Evil? No, foolish child. I am the devil!" It grinned, sharp and terrible, its laughter echoing off the walls like distant thunder. "I am hate! I am destruction! I am—"

"I see," Naruto interrupted.

The Fox paused.

Naruto nodded once. "Well then. Farewell."

And with that, he was gone.

—ToT—

The final exam was surprisingly difficult. Not in the way Naruto had expected—he knew the written test would be annoying, but this? This was just mean.

One of the math questions stood out in particular:

"A shinobi squad is being pursued by enemy forces at a speed of 15 meters per second. The squad must reach a safe zone 3 kilometers away before reinforcements arrive in 4 minutes. If each shinobi in the squad has a base speed of 12 meters per second but can boost their speed by 30% with chakra enhancement, will they make it in time? If not, by how many meters will they fall short?"

Naruto stared at it. Blinked. Thought about just writing "Use Body Flicker and pray." But no, that would just get him another glare from Iruka. He tapped the pencil against his desk. Maybe if he just wrote the bare minimum that made it look like he understood… Yeah. That was the plan.

He scribbled some numbers down, made it look like he actually tried, and moved on.

The kunai throwing test was easy. That was muscle memory by now. Ropes and wire? No problem. A shinobi had to be good at setting traps, and Naruto had long since learned to work with whatever was available.

Then came the sparring test.

His opponent? Sasuke Uchiha.

The whole class paid attention now. Naruto had drawn with him once before, but that had been years ago. This was different. They were both stronger now.

The match started, and Sasuke moved like lightning, fast and precise. Naruto dodged, countered, but never fully committed. He wasn't here to destroy Sasuke; he was here to pass. Sasuke, however, wasn't holding back. His hits were sharper, his movements carrying more frustration. Naruto had expected that. Sasuke had changed after the massacre, and every fight, every test, every moment was another chance for him to prove himself.

The match ended in a draw. Naruto could have won if he used his abilities, but he didn't. No need to show everything. Sasuke looked irritated. Naruto didn't care.

Finally, it was time for the viva—the final part of the exam. One by one, students walked into the room and walked out with their Konoha headbands. Naruto watched, waiting for his turn.

Then—

"Uzumaki Naruto."

He stood up, stretched his arms, and walked in.

Inside, Iruka and Mizuki sat at the desk, clipboards in front of them.

"Are you nervous, Naruto?" Iruka asked, his tone lighter than usual.

Naruto shook his head. "Not really."

Iruka hummed, then nodded. "Alright, let's begin. First, Body Flicker."

Easy. Naruto disappeared in a blur and reappeared on the other side of the room. Iruka nodded in approval.

"Henge."

Naruto transformed into the Hokage, then back to himself.

Iruka smiled. "Well done."

However, before they could move on, Mizuki leaned forward slightly, eyes sharp.

"Perform a Clone Jutsu."

Naruto's stomach dropped.

That… That was a problem.

He swallowed, hands forming the seal. Chakra surged, unsteady, unwilling. He focused, pushed, tried to mold it properly.

A puff of smoke.

And there it was. A single, half-dead clone on the floor. Pale, twitching, pathetic.

Silence.

Mizuki made a note. Iruka sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Naruto…"

Failed.

The rest of the night was… eventful.

Mizuki approached Naruto after his failure, his voice lower than usual, laced with something that made Naruto's nose wrinkle. He smelled off—like sweat and something bitter underneath, something like metal but not quite blood. Malice.

Still, Naruto listened. Mizuki spoke of an opportunity, a secret test, a way to pass and earn his headband. All he had to do was steal a scroll from the Hokage's office.

Naruto could tell it was a lie. But he didn't say no.

Breaking into the Hokage's office wasn't the hardest thing in the world. He'd snuck around the village plenty of times before, and getting past the old man's security was nothing compared to dodging shopkeepers with brooms. He slipped in, took the scroll, and left without anyone noticing. Simple.

Now, he waited in the forest, perched on a tree branch, the heavy scroll lying beside him. He had come too early. That was fine.

He drummed his fingers against the bark, then glanced down at the scroll. He could smell the ink, old paper, something musty. The forbidden scroll. Why was it forbidden? He untied it, unrolled it, and skimmed through the first technique.

Multi Shadow Clone Jutsu.

He tilted his head. Shadow Clones were normally inefficient, a waste of chakra for most shinobi. But this one—this one looked different. His eyes scanned the technique, and within minutes, he understood.

He closed his eyes, memorized the flow of chakra, and then—

Iruka's voice snapped through the quiet.

"Naruto! What have you done?!"

Naruto blinked, looking down to see Iruka staring at him with something between disbelief and anger. He could smell something else, too—concern? Panic?

Before he could answer, another voice slithered through the air.

"Ah, Iruka-sensei, you're early," Mizuki stepped into the clearing, his smile too wide, too sharp.

Iruka turned, confusion darkening his expression. "Mizuki? What's going on?"

Mizuki chuckled. "It's a special test, right?"

Iruka froze, his breath catching. His eyes flickered from Mizuki to Naruto, to the scroll in his hands. Naruto saw the moment the realization hit him.

It was too late.

Mizuki moved fast, faster than Naruto expected. A blur of silver, a spinning weapon flying straight toward Iruka. Naruto barely had time to react before Iruka shoved him out of the way, taking the kunai to his shoulder instead.

Blood splattered onto the ground.

Naruto landed on his feet, eyes darting between the two men. Mizuki was laughing. Iruka was grimacing.

"You know, Naruto," Mizuki said, voice smooth like oil, "there's something the village never told you. Something Iruka never told you."

Naruto stayed silent.

"You're not just some orphan. You're not just some random brat. You're the Nine-Tailed Fox that destroyed this village twelve years ago."

Iruka inhaled sharply. "Mizuki—!"

"You killed Iruka's parents, you killed so many people, and they all hate you for it. You think anyone actually sees you as human?" Mizuki's grin stretched wider, his eyes gleaming. "Iruka too. He's been pretending this whole time, but deep down, he must hate you."

Naruto waited.

Watched.

Studied.

Iruka's scent shifted. The blood, the pain, the sweat, but nothing sharp, nothing acrid, nothing that meant hatred.

Iruka, clutching his wounded shoulder, looked up at Naruto, his expression torn but steady.

"You're not the Nine-Tails," Iruka said, voice firm despite the pain. "You're a citizen of the Hidden Leaf. A member of this village."

Naruto tilted his head. "I am its jailor," he murmured.

"Not a monster," Iruka insisted.

Naruto stared. He had expected… something else. Humans loved revenge. But Iruka wasn't doing what a human should be doing.

Strange.

Mizuki growled. "Don't listen to him, Naruto! You think these people will ever accept you? They're just using you until they don't need you anymore. You're better off dead!"

He moved, another kunai already drawn.

Iruka yelled for Naruto to run.

Naruto did not run.

He crossed his fingers.

"Multi Shadow Clone Jutsu."

The world shifted.

A deafening boom echoed as the clearing flooded with copies of him, bodies appearing in a blink, filling every space. Dozens. Hundreds. They stood, identical, silent, watching Mizuki with blank, sapphire eyes.

"Dattebane," they muttered in unison.

Mizuki's breath hitched. His eyes darted around wildly, his kunai shaking slightly in his grip.

Naruto blinked. Ah. He's scared.

The clones moved.

A blur of fists and feet and impact. A storm of bodies overwhelming a single target.

The sounds of Mizuki's screams were swallowed by the sheer number of them.

It didn't take long.

When it was over, the clones popped out of existence, one by one, until only the original remained.

Mizuki was crumpled on the ground, battered, broken, and barely conscious.

Iruka, still kneeling, looked at Naruto with something unreadable in his eyes.

Finally, he exhaled.

"Come here," he said.

Naruto hesitated but stepped forward.

Iruka reached up, his fingers brushing against Naruto's forehead, and then—

A headband.

He tied it in place, the metal cool against Naruto's skin.

"Congratulations on your graduation, Naruto."

—ToT—

Oddly, Iruka treated Naruto to ramen that night.

Naruto didn't question it. Free food was free food. He sat at the counter, feet kicking idly against the stool, inhaling the scent of rich broth and fresh noodles. The steam curled into the air as Teuchi slid the first bowl toward him, and Naruto dug in without hesitation.

Across from him, Iruka sat stiffly, his chopsticks in hand but barely touching his food. His shoulder was bandaged now, but Naruto could still smell the faint traces of blood beneath the scent of ramen.

Ayame leaned on the counter, talking to Iruka in a different tone than usual, her voice softer, almost playful.

Iruka's reaction was... strange. His pulse picked up, face turning red, eyes darting away awkwardly.

Naruto blinked. Why was he reacting like that? His scent changed, too—something warm, flustered. His heart was beating faster than usual.

Ah. Mating call. Just like animals.

Naruto swallowed a mouthful of noodles. "Are you going to mate, Iruka-sensei? Ayame-nee-chan?"

Iruka choked so violently that he nearly flipped the stool over, coughing into his sleeve. Ayame went beet red, her hands flying up to wave frantically. Teuchi burst out laughing from the kitchen, his deep chuckles shaking the air.

"Naruto!" Iruka wheezed.

Naruto shrugged, stuffing more noodles into his mouth. "What?"

Ayame groaned, covering her face. "You don't just ask people that, Naruto!"

"Why not? It's normal," he said around a mouthful of broth. "Animals do it all the time."

Iruka pressed his fingers against his temple. "Humans are not animals."

Naruto stared at him. Then at Ayame. Then back at his ramen. "Hmm." He slurped up another mouthful, piling up empty bowls as quickly as Teuchi could refill them.

Iruka sighed but let it go. After a moment, he rested his elbow on the counter, looking at Naruto thoughtfully.

"So, Naruto," he said, "what's your dream?"

Naruto paused mid-bite.

A dream?

He'd never really thought about it before. He chewed slowly, letting the question settle in his mind.

Did he have a dream?

He wanted to survive. That was the whole reason he became a shinobi in the first place. To survive in a village that hated him. To stay strong enough that no one could ever hurt him. But a dream?

His fingers curled around his chopsticks.

The villagers treated him like a shadow, a ghost that haunted the streets. They looked through him, past him, like he wasn't there. Even when they sneered, even when they whispered, it was like they were talking about something distant, something unreal.

"I..." He hesitated. The words felt strange in his mouth. "I want people to see me. Dattebane."

Iruka nodded, considering. "You want to be famous?"

Famous?

Naruto frowned. Like what? A writer? A playwright? A painter? But he was a shinobi. Shinobi didn't write books or paint pictures.

"The only way a ninja becomes famous," Iruka continued, "is by becoming a famous ninja."

Naruto tilted his head. "Are you a famous ninja, sensei?"

"Uh... um." Iruka coughed into his fist. "No. But that's my point! The most well-known ninja in the village is its Kage. For Konoha, that's the Hokage."

Naruto thought about that.

Hashirama Senju was Hokage. People remembered him.

Tobirama Senju was Hokage. People still talked about him.

Hiruzen, the old man, was Hokage. He was famous.

His father... His father was Hokage. The whole village spoke of the Fourth in reverence, in awe.

Naruto clenched his chopsticks.

"Then I'll become the next Hokage."

Iruka blinked. Then he smiled, ruffling Naruto's red hair. "I'm sure you'll be a great one. Popular too."

Naruto didn't pull away. Didn't move.

Iruka's hand was warm.

And for the first time, Naruto thought maybe—he could believe it.

TBC

Chapter Text

Team Selection

Naruto sat beside Kiba, arms crossed, his foot tapping idly against the floor as Iruka spoke at the front of the class. The room smelled of old wood, sweat, and ink—familiar, comforting in a strange way. Iruka was talking about how much he'd enjoyed teaching them, how they'd all grown over the years. Something about how they were entering a new stage of their lives. Naruto half-listened, but his mind drifted.

Four years at the Academy. He'd spent most of it as the dead last. Not because he didn't try—he did. But Mizuki had done everything in his power to make sure Naruto failed. Naruto wasn't stupid. He noticed the way Mizuki's tests always had something extra thrown in for him, how he was always singled out, how his kunai seemed to land just outside the target when he knew his aim was good. But in the end, it hadn't mattered. He was here now.

Iruka started reading off the teams.

"Team One..."

Naruto leaned back, only half-paying attention. He wasn't sure what to expect. He didn't really care who he got as long as they weren't annoying. Maybe Choji. Or Shino. They weren't too bad.

"Team Seven: Sasuke Uchiha, Sakura Haruno, and Naruto Uzumaki under Jounin Kakashi Hatake."

Naruto blinked.

Sakura let out a high-pitched squeal and fist-pumped the air. Ino slumped in disappointment. Sasuke was—unsurprisingly—indifferent, arms crossed, not even reacting.

Naruto tilted his head. So he was going to be on a team with the broody Uchiha and the pink-haired fangirl? And his sensei would be Inu—no, Kakashi. The guy he hadn't seen in years, the one who read that book and had a habit of appearing and disappearing like a ghost.

This would be... something.

Iruka wrapped up the announcements, thanking them all and wishing them good luck. One by one, sensei after sensei arrived, collecting their new teams. Some were excited, some were nervous, some looked like they were already regretting their lives.

Team 7 waited.

And waited.

The room emptied out. Other teams were long gone, off to meet their sensei and start their new lives as genin.

Naruto leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. He wasn't in a rush. This was normal. Inu had always been late. He remembered that much.

Sakura huffed loudly. "Why is he so late?"

"Maybe he had an important mission," Naruto offered absently, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve.

"Maybe he's just lazy," Sasuke muttered, eyes closed, arms still crossed.

Naruto picked up a beetle crawling across the desk, inspecting it. Its tiny legs wiggled in protest as it tried to escape his grip. He watched it struggle.

The minutes dragged on.

An hour.

Two hours.

Sakura groaned, slumping over the desk dramatically. Sasuke was still motionless, like a statue. Naruto let the beetle go.

Three hours later, the door finally creaked open.

"Yo."

Sakura practically exploded. "You're late!"

Sasuke shot the man a sharp glare.

Naruto looked him over once before shrugging and going back to watching the beetle crawl away.

Kakashi stood there, hands in his pockets, relaxed, his hitai-ate slanted over one eye, orange book suspiciously absent. His mask covered most of his face, but his visible eye curved up slightly in an amused expression.

"My first impression... you're boring," he said lazily. "Meet me on the rooftop in ten seconds."

Naruto stood up without a word, stepped onto the window frame, and jumped out.

Sakura let out a horrified shriek. "NARUTO!"

He ignored her. The wind rushed past him as he fell. He twisted midair, grabbing onto one of the pipes running along the building. His fingers tightened around the metal as he swung himself up, pushing off the wall with his foot, propelling himself higher. His hands caught the ledge, and he pulled himself up, landing smoothly on the rooftop.

Eight seconds.

Kakashi was already there, watching him with an unreadable expression.

His visible eye curved again. A slow, amused eye-smile.

Kakashi leaned against the railing, eyeing them with that same lazy indifference, hands still stuffed in his pockets. "Alright, introductions. Likes, dislikes, dreams for the future. You go first," he said, nodding toward Sakura.

Sakura straightened up immediately. "Why me first? You're the sensei! Shouldn't you go first?"

Kakashi hummed. "Fair enough. My name is Kakashi Hatake. I have no interest in telling you my likes or dislikes. Dreams for the future? Hmm… I have a few hobbies."

Naruto stared. That was... absolutely nothing. The only useful thing there was his name, which they already knew. Sakura huffed in frustration. Sasuke just stared at him like he was trying to burn a hole through his mask.

Sakura flipped her hair and went next. "Ahem. My name is Sakura Haruno! My likes are—" she glanced at Sasuke and blushed, "—and my dislikes are certain people! My dream for the future is—" she trailed off, giggling to herself.

Naruto sighed.

Sasuke went next, voice as flat as ever. "My name is Sasuke Uchiha. I have few likes, many dislikes. My dream… no, my goal is to kill a certain man."

Naruto didn't even have to guess who that was.

Kakashi nodded slowly. "Alright. That just leaves you."

Naruto leaned back on his hands, thinking for a second before speaking. "I'm Naruto Uzumaki. I like animals and the forest. Eating ramen. I like painting. I…" he paused, "…want to become the Hokage. Dattebane."

Kakashi tilted his head slightly. "Interesting bunch." His tone was unreadable.

Naruto thought they were done, but Kakashi straightened, his entire demeanor shifting. His casual slouch vanished, and the air around him grew heavier.

"Alright, let's get something clear," he said, voice smooth and easy, but with an edge now. "You aren't ninja yet."

Sakura blinked. "What?"

Sasuke frowned.

Naruto remained still.

Kakashi continued, "The real test begins tomorrow. The Academy only determines who can become a genin. Whether or not you actually do is up to your assigned Jounin. If I decide you're not fit to be shinobi, you'll be sent back to the Academy. Or, in most cases, sent home entirely. The failure rate? Roughly sixty-six percent. Two out of three genin teams don't make it."

Sakura's mouth opened and closed. Sasuke's fingers twitched slightly. Naruto just tilted his head.

"You'll meet me tomorrow at Training Ground Seven at five AM for your final test," Kakashi said, then casually added, "Oh, and don't eat breakfast. Or dinner, actually. You might throw up."

With that, he vanished.

There was a long silence.

Sakura groaned. "What kind of test is this?"

Sasuke said nothing.

Naruto stood up, stretching. "I'm getting ramen. You guys coming?"

Sakura made a face. "No way. Too many calories."

Sasuke just shook his head.

Naruto shrugged. "Your loss."

And with that, he headed for Ichiraku's.

—ToT—

No ramen today. The stand was closed, a simple sign hanging where the usual warm lights should have been. Gone to a wedding, be back in two days, it read in Teuchi's neat handwriting. Naruto exhaled slowly. Just his luck. He'd been looking forward to a meal all day, and now he had to find something else.

As he turned away, a small voice caught his attention.

"Food, please?"

Naruto paused. Across the street, huddled against the wall of an alley, were a handful of kids. No older than four, dressed in rags, eyes hollow with hunger. Their tiny hands reached out to passing pedestrians, but everyone ignored them, too caught up in their own world to spare a glance.

Naruto knew this scene. He had lived this scene.

A memory stirred. A past life. A body covered in brown fur, nimble claws scraping at dirt in desperation. Taki, during the famine. No food, no mercy, just hunger. Until he was finally caught—killed by children even more desperate than he was. A tiny squirrel, reduced to nothing but a meal.

The kids swarmed him as soon as they noticed him watching. Small hands tugged at his sleeves, pleading, desperate.

"Please, big brother, just a little food?"

"Anything, just a little bit?"

"Even a single coin, please!"

Naruto reached into his pocket, feeling the familiar shape of a few crumpled bills. He had just enough for himself. 500 ryō. Enough to buy something small to last him until tomorrow. But if he gave it away, he'd be starving too.

His stomach twisted, but not from hunger. He met their eyes—big, round, filled with the kind of hope that had no reason to exist. And Naruto made his decision.

"Come with me," he said.

The kids blinked, startled.

"You're joking, right?" one of them whispered.

He wasn't.

He led them through the village, past the food stalls that would never serve them, past the streets where they weren't welcome, and straight into Akimichi BBQ. The rich scent of sizzling meat filled the air, making Naruto's stomach ache, but he ignored it.

The hostess looked up as he entered, eyebrows raising at the group of ragged kids behind him.

"Table for…?"

"Four," Naruto said.

She hesitated, but she knew who he was, and more importantly, she knew better than to turn down a paying customer. A few minutes later, they were seated in a booth, and Naruto ordered three plates of mutton-roti.

The kids sat stiffly, as if they expected to be thrown out any second. When the food arrived, they hesitated for only a moment before digging in, stuffing their faces with shaking hands.

Naruto watched quietly, stomach growling. He could almost taste the food just by looking at it, but he didn't reach for any of it. He had enough to feed them. Not himself.

The warmth of the restaurant contrasted sharply with the cold glares from a few of the wealthier patrons. Naruto ignored them.

Across the room, he noticed Team 10—Shikamaru, Ino, and Choji—sitting with their sensei, the big bearded man, Asuma. They were eating large dishes, chatting lazily, but every now and then, one of them would glance at Naruto and the kids.

He didn't bother looking back.

The kids finished quickly, wiping their faces with their sleeves, looking both satisfied and a little embarrassed. One of them hesitated before turning to Naruto.

"Thank you."

The others nodded eagerly, their voices overlapping. "Thank you, big brother!"

Naruto just stood up and paid the bill. "Go home."

They ran off, still giggling, voices filled with more life than they had when he found them.

The second they were gone, his stomach twisted painfully, and he winced.

Guess he was starving today.

—ToT—

Naruto dipped his brush into the ink, watching as the black liquid bled into the bristles. The room was quiet except for the soft scratching of the brush against the paper. His hands moved instinctively, tracing out lines that formed the image in his mind. It wasn't something he had seen firsthand, not something he could remember with certainty, but somehow… he knew.

His mother lay in a cave's bed, cradling him in her arms. Her red hair cascaded around her like a blanket, shielding him from the world. She was smiling, exhausted but happy. Beside her, his father sat, looking at both of them with an expression Naruto had never seen on anyone's face before—pride. Love. A quiet, unshakable joy.

The brushstrokes softened as he worked on their features. He had his mother's eyes. Her hair too, though his was spikier. His nose, though… that belonged to his dad. And his ears.

Naruto stared at the painting for a long time once it was done.

He had never met them, not truly. And yet, he had their faces burned into his mind as if he had seen them a thousand times before. Maybe he had, in another life. Or maybe… something deep inside him refused to let him forget.

With slow, careful hands, he set the painting under the window to dry. Dawn was already creeping in, light stretching thin over the rooftops. Time to go.

He pulled on his white jacket, adjusting the collar as he slipped into his blue pants. His fingers worked quickly, securing his shinobi sandals before moving to the small pouch on his waist. He checked his supplies—kunai, shuriken, wire. Enough for whatever Inu had planned.

He stepped outside, the morning air crisp and biting against his skin.

Training Ground 7 awaited.

—ToT—

TBC

Chapter Text

Team Seven

Naruto had expected to be the first one there, but to his surprise, Sakura was already sitting on a rock, rubbing her eyes and barely staying awake. The morning air was chilly, and the training ground was still covered in soft shadows from the trees. She yawned, arms wrapped around herself, blinking slowly like a cat who had been forced out of bed too early.

He walked past her without a word and sat against a tree, stretching his legs out in front of him. The grass was damp with morning dew, cool against his fingertips as he absently traced patterns into the dirt.

Then, a soft rustling.

A small brown bunny hopped out of the underbrush, nose twitching. Then another. And another. Within moments, he was surrounded by them. Tiny paws barely made a sound against the earth as they approached him, ears flicking at the morning breeze.

He reached out, fingers running gently over one's back. It barely reacted, just twitched its whiskers at him before settling down comfortably by his side. Another nudged at his knee. Another pawed at his sandal.

Sakura, who had been trying to keep her head up, noticed. Her eyes widened, watching as more rabbits casually made their way over to Naruto like he was some kind of magnet for small, fluffy creatures.

"What the hell?" she muttered, sitting up straighter.

Naruto barely glanced at her, too focused on petting the small white bunny now curled up beside him.

More rustling. More ears flicking.

"Okay, what the hell," she repeated, louder this time, standing up and walking toward him.

Naruto just kept petting the rabbits, one hand running over their soft fur while the others sniffed at his clothes.

Sakura stared, completely baffled.

"How are you doing this?" she finally blurted out, pointing at the absurd scene in front of her.

"Doing what?" Naruto asked, voice calm, as if this was completely normal.

"Petting the bunnies, of course!"

Naruto blinked. "You've never pet a bunny before?"

Sakura crossed her arms. "Of course I have! But they don't just… come to people like this! They always run away!"

Naruto tilted his head. "Maybe you're doing it wrong."

Sakura scoffed. "There's no wrong way to pet a bunny!"

He gestured at the rabbits still gathered around him. "Then why do they run away from you?"

Sakura's mouth opened, then closed. She frowned. "Fine," she huffed. "Show me how, then."

Naruto shifted, moving his hand to demonstrate. "First, don't just grab them. You gotta let them come to you."

Sakura sighed, but sat down next to him, watching as he slowly extended his hand, palm facing down, letting one of the rabbits sniff at it before gently stroking its head.

"See? No sudden moves. No grabbing."

Sakura hesitated, then copied him, reaching out slowly. One of the bunnies twitched its nose at her fingers. Encouraged, she moved closer—

And instantly, the rabbit darted away, vanishing into the bushes.

She groaned.

Naruto shook his head. "Too fast."

Sakura glared at him. "Oh, shut up."

She tried again, this time slowing her movements. One of the bunnies hesitated, watching her with large, round eyes. She barely breathed. Then, after what felt like forever, the rabbit cautiously moved closer, its tiny paws barely making a sound against the ground.

Then, finally, it let her touch it.

Sakura grinned, triumphant.

Naruto just nodded. "Not bad."

She shot him a look. "Not bad? I just did something impossible!"

Naruto shrugged. "It's not impossible. You just needed to stop being hesitant."

Sakura punched his shoulder. Not hard, but not exactly gentle either. "You're so annoying."

The bunny she was petting twitched, then quickly hopped away.

Sakura groaned again. "Damn it!"

Naruto just nodded, reaching out to scratch another bunny behind its ears.

The morning sun rose higher, filtering through the trees, casting long shadows across the training ground. The rabbits, sensing the change in the air, began to slip back into the underbrush, disappearing one by one.

Sakura watched them go, frowning slightly. "I still don't get how you did that."

Naruto just leaned back against the tree, arms resting behind his head. "Not sure. Guess they just like me."

Sakura gave him a long, skeptical look but didn't argue.

Instead, she sat back against the rock she had been on earlier, glancing up at the sky. The day was just beginning, and knowing Kakashi, they'd be waiting a long time.

For now, she decided, she wouldn't question things too much.

Naruto crunched down on his carrot, slow and steady, chewing like he had all the time in the world. He had been a tortoise once, in another life. The kind that lived for centuries, barely moving, barely thinking. He had also been a sloth, hanging upside down in the rainforests of Kawa no Kuni, moving so slowly that moss had grown on his fur. But not even those lives could compare to the sheer, mind-numbing laziness that was Kakashi Hatake.

Five hours late. Five. Hours.

If he had known, he would've taken a nap. Maybe painted something. Maybe found more rabbits. Instead, he had sat here, watching Sakura alternate between muttering angrily under her breath and dozing off. Watching Sasuke stare at nothing, arms crossed, face unreadable as ever. Watching the sun climb higher and higher while his stomach reminded him of last night's missed meal.

And now, finally, finally, Kakashi had arrived.

Sakura was fuming. "You're late!" she snapped, standing up so fast her chair nearly toppled over.

Kakashi just raised a hand in lazy defense. "Mah, mah. I got lost on the road of life."

Naruto bit off another piece of carrot.

Sasuke remained silent, but the slight twitch of his eyebrow showed he was just as annoyed.

Kakashi, completely unfazed, reached into his pocket and pulled out two small, silver bells, letting them dangle from his fingers. "This is your test. Your goal is to take one of these bells from me."

The bells jingled softly, catching the light as they swayed.

"There are only two," Kakashi continued, "which means one of you is going back to the Academy."

Sakura stiffened. Sasuke's hands twitched slightly. Naruto swallowed the last of his carrot, licking stray crumbs off his thumb.

Kakashi set an alarm clock down on a tree stump, twisting the dial. "You have until noon."

One hour, then.

"Your time starts now."

Sasuke vanished.

Sakura was right behind him.

Naruto remained standing there in the clearing, staring blankly at Kakashi. The wind rustled the leaves, the distant chirping of birds filling the silence between them.

Kakashi tilted his head. "Not going to hide?"

Naruto blinked slowly, tilting his head the same way. "Can I have a bell, Inu?"

Kakashi's visible eye twitched. "It's Kakashi-sensei, now."

"Oh." Naruto scratched his cheek. "Can I have a bell, Kakashi-sensei?"

Kakashi sighed. "No, get it yourself."

Naruto hummed in thought. His stomach growled.

"You should've listened to me and skipped breakfast," Kakashi mused.

"Didn't have breakfast to begin with," Naruto replied.

Kakashi blinked. "Huh. Well, that's unfortunate."

Naruto sighed. He could feel Sakura and Sasuke hiding in the trees, their presence sharp and tense.

Alright, then.

He bent his knees slightly, then launched himself forward in a sudden blur of movement. His fingers grazed the bells—

Kakashi was gone.

Naruto landed on the ground lightly, blinking at the now-empty space in front of him.

Oh.

Fast.

He turned his head slightly, catching the faint sound of rustling leaves behind him.

"Good attempt," Kakashi said from a branch above, sounding vaguely amused. "But not good enough."

Naruto rolled his shoulders, stretching his arms behind his head.

Alright, maybe this would be fun after all.

The test had begun.

Sakura hid behind a tree, heart pounding, fingers gripping the bark so tightly her nails dug into it. She had barely gotten away before Kakashi could see her. She had seen how quickly he moved, how effortlessly he had dodged Naruto. This was a jōnin. A real ninja.

She swallowed hard.

I have to be smart about this.

Sasuke would probably try a direct attack. That was his style. She doubted Naruto had any real plan. He had just lunged at Kakashi like it was nothing. Idiot.

She needed to be careful. She needed to wait for the right moment.

Quietly, she peeked out from behind the tree, scanning the clearing for any sign of Kakashi.

Then—

A hand clamped onto her shoulder.

She barely had time to scream before the world flipped upside down.

Leaves and sky spun together, her stomach dropping as she found herself hanging, feet in the air, upside down from a tree branch, tied up in a snare of ninja wire.

Her shriek echoed through the forest.

Somewhere, Naruto remarked. "That was fast."

Sasuke moved through the trees silently, watching everything from above. He had seen Naruto's failed attempt. He had seen Sakura get caught.

Now, it was his turn.

He narrowed his eyes, tracking Kakashi's movements carefully. The jōnin was fast, but not impossible to follow. There were patterns in the way he moved, slight tells in the way his weight shifted before he vanished.

Sasuke adjusted his grip on his kunai.

He could do this.

He would do this.

He wasn't going back to the Academy.

Naruto sat cross-legged on a tree branch, watching the events unfold below with mild interest.

Sakura was hanging from a rope. Sasuke was lurking in the shadows, preparing for his attack.

Kakashi stood in the middle of it all, one hand in his pocket, completely unfazed.

Naruto tilted his head.

Maybe I should actually try.

With a lazy stretch, he hopped down from his branch, landing soundlessly on the forest floor.

Kakashi turned his head slightly, sensing the movement.

Naruto blinked.

Then he vanished.

The real game had just begun.

Naruto tilted his head, watching Kakashi flip another page of his orange book, completely ignoring the fact that two of his students had already been taken out. His posture was relaxed, his grip on the book casual, but Naruto wasn't fooled. Beneath that mask of boredom, Kakashi was coiled like a viper, perfectly aware of every movement around him.

Naruto took a step closer. "Can I fight you for real?"

Kakashi didn't even look up. "Go ahead."

That was all the permission he needed.

Naruto moved.

Like a cheetah, he lunged forward, fast and sharp, hands reaching for the bells with practiced precision. But Kakashi was faster. Before Naruto could even blink, Kakashi had already sidestepped, barely bothering to dodge. It was effortless.

Naruto twisted midair, landing on all fours before launching again, this time like a puma—more force, more muscle, more calculated. His foot barely touched the ground before he was airborne again, coming in at a sharper angle.

Kakashi yawned.

How the hell is he so fast?

It was strange. He had lived many lives, been many things—birds, deer, rabbits, big cats. He had felt the raw speed of a cheetah, the explosive power of a lion, the patient strike of a viper. He had run before, faster than humans should be able to see. Yet time and time again, shinobi had killed him like he was nothing. Was this why?

Because no matter how fast he was, no matter how strong, humans—true shinobi—were simply beyond him?

Naruto frowned.

Fine, then.

He adjusted his approach. Instead of speed, he hopped lightly, moving unpredictably—rabbit. Then, suddenly, a powerful kick—kangaroo. His legs were fast, stronger than they looked, and they had knocked out grown men before. But—

Kakashi was gone.

Before Naruto could react, a leg swept through the air, catching him at the ribs.

His world spun.

And then, splash.

Water engulfed him instantly, cold and jarring, the pond swallowing his entire form in one go.

For a second, he was still. Then, instinct kicked in, and he shot out of the water like a kingfisher, body arcing through the air, aiming straight for Kakashi's head—

Except—

He hit a log instead.

His face smacked against the rough bark, and before he could react, a voice whispered right behind him.

"Boo."

Naruto's stomach dropped.

A foot connected with his back, and suddenly, he was flying again.

Except this time—

"OW!"

Sakura's shriek rang in his ears as he crashed straight into her, sending them both spinning like tangled marionettes.

Naruto groaned, limbs wrapped around hers as they dangled awkwardly from the rope trap.

"Sorry. Dattebane."

Sakura flailed. "Get off me, you idiot!"

"I'm kinda stuck, actually."

"You're heavy!"

"You're loud."

"You're annoying!"

Before Naruto could argue further, there was a click, and the rope suddenly snapped, sending them both plummeting toward the ground.

They landed in a heap of limbs and groans.

Naruto was the first to sit up, rubbing the back of his head.

Sakura groaned from beneath him. "This sucks."

"Yeah."

A shadow loomed over them.

They looked up.

Kakashi crouched on a branch, staring down at them with an eye-smile. "Having fun?"

Naruto narrowed his eyes. "You planned that, didn't you?"

Kakashi hummed thoughtfully. "Maa, maybe."

Naruto stared at him, then at the still-dangling bells, then back at Kakashi.

This guy was playing with them.

This wasn't even a challenge for him.

Naruto sighed, standing up and offering a hand to Sakura, who batted it away and stood on her own. He turned toward the last person left standing.

Sasuke.

Naruto could see it in his posture, the way his hands clenched, the way his brows furrowed just slightly.

Frustration.

He was getting impatient.

Sasuke had been watching the entire time. Studying. Calculating. Now, he was ready to move.

And move he did.

With the sharp snap of a twig, Sasuke vanished, moving fast, even faster than Naruto had.

But Kakashi didn't even flinch.

With a single step, he was gone.

A blur of movement. The sound of impact.

Then, silence.

Naruto blinked.

Sasuke was in the ground.

Literally.

Only his legs were sticking out, dirt and debris scattered around the impact zone.

Sakura let out a horrified gasp. Naruto just exhaled through his nose.

Kakashi dusted his hands off. "Well, that's three down."

He checked his watch.

"Ten seconds left."

Naruto sighed, stretching his arms behind his head. "Guess we failed, huh?"

Kakashi smiled beneath his mask. "Oh, you definitely failed."

The alarm clock rang.

Time was up.

—ToT—

They were tied to logs.

The sun was beating down on them, warm and relentless, a stark contrast to the rumbling in their stomachs. Hunger gnawed at their insides, a constant reminder of their failure. Across from them, Kakashi sat on a wooden crate, casually picking at his bento with a pair of chopsticks, his mask still perfectly in place. He ate slowly, deliberately, making a show of every bite.

Naruto's stomach grumbled. Loudly.

Then Sakura's.

Then Sasuke's.

It was like a chain reaction, one after another, a cruel symphony of emptiness.

Sakura blushed, mortified. Sasuke stiffened, clearly trying to pretend his body hadn't just betrayed him.

Naruto just blinked. "Our stomachs made noise. Dattebane."

"Shut up, Naruto," Sakura hissed.

Kakashi chuckled, still chewing. "You know," he said after swallowing, "I'm not sending any of you back to the Ninja Academy."

Really?

That sounded too good to be true.

But then, before they could feel any relief, he continued, "Because I'm not sending you back to the Academy. I'm sending you home. Expelling you all from the shinobi program."

A moment of silence.

Then—

"What?"

Kakashi hummed, tilting his head. "However…" He tapped his chopsticks against the bento box. "If at least one of you is voted twice by the rest of the team, I'll pass the remaining two and make them officially genin. I'm giving you one minute to decide."

Sakura's breath hitched. Sasuke's eyes darkened.

Naruto… just stared.

A chance to drop out? Just like that?

His fingers curled against the rough bark of the log.

Being a shinobi wasn't his choice. It never was. The Academy, the training, the tests—it was all expected of him. A duty. A forced path. The world of shinobi was cruel, filled with killers, filled with people like them. He had been hunted by shinobi so many times in his past lives—stabbed, cut, burned, crushed, trapped, dissected. It was endless. They had always been his predators, no matter what he was.

And now, he could just leave.

He exhaled slowly.

"I'll drop," he said simply. "Sakura and Sasuke can proceed."

Both of them turned to look at him, surprised.

Sakura's lips parted slightly before she furrowed her brows. Her fingers clenched in her lap. Then, to his complete surprise, she shook her head.

"I should be the one to drop out," she muttered. "I'm the weakest one here."

Sasuke scoffed quietly, barely a sound, but his expression was serious. "I can pursue my dream without being a shinobi."

Naruto stared.

Sakura had every reason to stay—she wanted this. She trained for this. She studied for this. But she was willing to give it up for them?

And Sasuke.

Sasuke Uchiha.

Who had been bred for this, who had talent oozing from every cell in his body, who was born into a clan of warriors, who had every reason to carve his path through the blood of his enemies.

And yet, he was willing to leave it all behind?

For them?

One by one, they voted for themselves.

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Kakashi's chopsticks froze mid-air.

Then, slowly, he smiled beneath his mask.

"You all pass."

"Huh?"

Naruto blinked, Sakura gawked, and Sasuke narrowed his eyes.

"In the shinobi world," Kakashi said, standing up and dusting off his hands, "those who abandon their missions are trash. But those who abandon their comrades… are worse than trash."

Naruto exhaled through his nose, shoulders sagging slightly.

Humans were so complicated.

At least Kakashi treated them to food.

They sat at a quiet little restaurant near the village outskirts, nothing fancy, but decent enough. The place smelled like grilled meat and soy sauce, and Naruto's stomach practically did a backflip when the first plate hit the table.

"Eat up," Kakashi said, waving lazily at the spread of food. "Consider it a reward for not being complete failures."

Naruto didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed a skewer of grilled chicken and sank his teeth into it, savoring the smoky flavor. After a day of nothing but his own saliva, this was heaven.

Sakura hesitated at first, sitting properly with her hands in her lap, but after glancing at Naruto stuffing his face, she gave in and started picking at a bowl of rice. Sasuke, of course, acted like he didn't care, but he still grabbed some food in that too-casual way that meant he was definitely starving.

Kakashi ate slowly, eyes on his little orange book, turning the pages as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world. Naruto squinted at the cover. Icha Icha Tactics.

"What's that about?" he asked, pointing at the book with a skewer.

Kakashi barely glanced up. "Tactics."

Naruto wasn't buying it. "Tactics for what?"

Kakashi flipped another page. "Adult things."

Sakura immediately turned red.

Sasuke made a face like he just bit into a lemon.

Naruto shrugged and took another bite. "Whatever. As long as you're paying, you can read whatever weird stuff you want, Inu."

Kakashi sighed. "It's Kakashi-sensei."

"Sure thing, Inu."

Kakashi just hummed in amusement.

The food disappeared fast. Naruto probably ate the most, but Sasuke wasn't far behind, and even Sakura surprised herself by finishing everything on her plate. The restaurant owner, a grumpy old man with a towel over his shoulder, watched them from behind the counter, shaking his head.

"They're like wild animals," he muttered.

Kakashi smiled. "They're growing shinobi."

Naruto leaned back in his seat, hands behind his head, stomach finally full. "So, what now, sensei?"

Kakashi set his book down. "Now? Now the real work begins."

Sakura frowned. "What do you mean?"

Kakashi stretched, looking at them like a lazy cat sizing up its kittens. "Today was just the first step. You're officially genin now, which means we start missions tomorrow."

Naruto perked up. "Like real missions?"

"Real missions," Kakashi confirmed.

Sasuke's fingers twitched. "What kind of missions?"

Kakashi hummed thoughtfully. "Oh, you know, the usual—chasing lost pets, pulling weeds, cleaning gutters—"

Sakura nearly fell out of her seat. "That's not ninja stuff."

"Ah, but it is," Kakashi said cheerfully. "Every great shinobi starts with the basics. And besides…" His single eye curved into a smile. "You'll get plenty of real action soon enough."

That was both reassuring and mildly terrifying.

Sasuke just scoffed, arms crossed. Sakura looked thoughtful. Naruto groaned dramatically but didn't argue.

The meal ended with Kakashi paying the bill, as promised. They stepped out into the evening air, the streets still busy with villagers going about their business. The sky was turning deep orange, the last traces of sunlight fading behind the rooftops.

"Meet me at Training Ground 7 tomorrow at sunrise," Kakashi said. "Don't be late."

Naruto gave him a deadpan look. "You're telling us not to be late?"

Kakashi just gave an eye smile. "See you tomorrow." And just like that, he was gone, vanishing in a swirl of leaves.

Sakura sighed. "He's so weird."

Sasuke grunted in agreement.

Naruto just stretched. "Well, see you guys tomorrow. Dattebane."

They parted ways, each heading home, full but exhausted.

Naruto, for once, didn't mind the quiet walk back.

—ToT—

The office was dimly lit, the smell of burning incense mixing with the faint scent of old parchment. Hiruzen Sarutobi sat behind his desk, pipe in hand, his eyes scanning the report Kakashi had handed him. The Jounin sat across from him, posture relaxed, one leg lazily resting over the other.

Hiruzen hummed as he read, his brow furrowing slightly. "Your thoughts?"

Kakashi flipped a page in his little orange book but didn't read it. "On which one?"

"Sasuke Uchiha," Hiruzen said, glancing up.

Kakashi sighed, rubbing his temple. "He's strong. Driven. But he's too focused on revenge. It makes him predictable. He doesn't trust others, which is a problem for teamwork. He sees allies as obstacles, not assets. He fights alone because he believes no one else is worth his time. He will either get himself killed or make an enemy of his comrades if that doesn't change."

Hiruzen nodded, expecting as much. "And Sakura Haruno?"

"Academically sharp, but physically average. Good chakra control, but lacks combat experience. Too emotionally invested in Sasuke, to the point where it clouds her judgment. She doesn't take Naruto seriously and underestimates him. She sees shinobi life as a game, something to prove herself to Sasuke rather than a responsibility."

Hiruzen exhaled through his nose, the smoke from his pipe curling into the air. "And Naruto?"

There was a pause. Kakashi shut his book.

"...He's not normal."

Hiruzen raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

Kakashi leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping against his knee. "It's not just his stamina, though that alone is unnatural. It's the way he moves. The way he fights. It's… animalistic. Instinctual. Unpredictable."

Hiruzen watched him carefully. "Go on."

"He doesn't fight like a human. He fights like something that was never taught how to be human in the first place. It's subtle, but it's there. When he lunges, it's not the way a trained shinobi would—it's the way a predator would. Low to the ground, shoulders tense, waiting for the right moment to strike. When he kicks, it's not controlled; it's wild, raw power, like the way a kangaroo would lash out. His reflexes… they're too sharp. Too inhuman."

Hiruzen frowned, deep in thought. "You believe it's the Kyuubi?"

Kakashi shook his head. "No. It's something else. The Kyuubi's chakra would feel more violent, more malicious. This is different. It's not aggressive, just... instinctive. Like he's lived through something we haven't. Like he remembers things he shouldn't. There were moments during the bell test where I could swear he was analyzing me the way a hunter watches prey."

Hiruzen said nothing, merely taking another long drag from his pipe.

"He's always been quiet," Kakashi continued. "Not shy, just… observant. He doesn't speak unless he has something to say. Doesn't react the way normal children do. When I taunted him, he didn't get angry. When I hit him, he didn't flinch. When I appeared behind him, he didn't even seem surprised, like he expected it. His eyes—those glowing sapphire eyes—always watching, always calculating, but almost... hollow."

Hiruzen set his pipe down. "You believe he struggles with human interaction?"

Kakashi exhaled. "He interacts with people like someone who isn't used to it. Like someone who never learned how. He doesn't joke the way kids his age do. He doesn't react to insults, doesn't get flustered, doesn't even brag. He accepts things as they are, no complaints, no expectations. When Sakura or Sasuke bicker, he doesn't chime in. He just listens. He watches. And when he does speak, it's often something simple but meaningful, as if he's not used to wasting words."

Hiruzen sat back in his chair. "He was raised alone. He was around ANBU more than civilians. It makes sense that he would struggle to understand normal social interactions."

Kakashi nodded. "Still, he's a good child. Polite, thoughtful in his own way. He has his mother's hair and her eyes. And despite everything, I think he has the heart of both his parents. But there's something else about him, something I can't quite place. A weight in the way he moves. Like he's older than he looks."

Hiruzen folded his hands together. "What do you recommend?"

Kakashi was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "I want to push him further. See what he's capable of. Whatever this is, it's not normal, but it's not necessarily bad. He fights like someone who's survived things we can't imagine. If we can understand what makes him different, we can guide him in the right direction. If left unchecked, though... I don't know what he'll become."

Hiruzen hummed. "Very well. Continue to observe. Guide him, but do not pressure him. We will see where his path leads."

Kakashi picked up his book again, flipping it open. "Understood, Hokage-sama."

—ToT—

TBC

Chapter Text

.

Mission To Wave

The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves outside his window. Naruto sat cross-legged on the floor, a brush in hand, the scent of drying ink thick in the air. His latest work was spread out in front of him—an old memory, something from a life long past. A crocodile, large and ancient, basking in the murky waters of a river during the Clan Warring Era.

He had been that crocodile once.

Back then, the rivers ran red with blood, human corpses floating aimlessly as shinobi waged war on each other. He had lurked beneath the surface, patient and undisturbed, watching with cold reptilian eyes as bodies fell, their struggles ending in an instant. It hadn't mattered to him who they were or what their reasons had been. He was just another predator in a world that did not care.

But humans… humans were always so complicated. They never just killed for food. They killed for ideals, for grudges, for revenge. And sometimes, they killed for stupid reasons—like believing that crocodile skin would make for good shields.

That was how he had died in that life. Some wandering shinobi had mistaken his armored hide for something valuable, something that could stop kunai and arrows. They had hunted him, thrown jutsu at him, and eventually, one of them had managed to pin him down long enough to slit his throat.

It had been such a waste. Not even a week later, they had discarded his hide when they realized it wasn't as durable as they had hoped.

Naruto dipped his brush in ink, adding more depth to the scales in his painting. The eyes—he focused on the eyes, making them deep and old, the kind that had seen far too much and cared too little. He had lived so many lives, but humans… humans never changed.

They fought, they killed, they justified it all with words that meant nothing.

And now, here he was, a human again. A shinobi, no less.

The irony of it all didn't escape him.

He sat back, looking at his work with a critical eye. The crocodile was nearly complete, its thick body half-submerged in the inky water, ripples surrounding it like whispers of old battles. The brush strokes captured the stillness of a predator waiting, but also the weight of something ancient and tired.

He sighed, setting the brush aside.

It was late. He should sleep.

His body still remembered the habits of nocturnal creatures—owls, panthers, bats—lifetimes spent awake under the cover of darkness. But right now, in this life, he was human, and humans needed sleep. He wasn't going to let himself develop bad habits just because his soul had been restless for thousands of years.

Stretching, he stood up, wincing as his legs tingled from sitting too long. He cracked his neck, yawning as he moved to his bed. His mattress was thin, his pillow lumpy, but he had long since stopped caring about comfort. Compared to some of his past lives—being a rat, for example—this was luxury.

He lay down, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow would be another day of pretending to be a normal human, a normal shinobi. Missions, training, teammates who didn't know who or what he truly was.

His eyelids grew heavy, and he let himself drift, the echoes of his past fading into the quiet hum of the present.

—ToT—

The mission was simple: capture Tora, the Fire Daimyo's wife's runaway cat.

Simple, right?

Wrong.

Team 7 stood in the Hokage's office, staring at the mission scroll in Kakashi's hand. Sakura groaned. Sasuke scowled. Naruto just blinked, glancing at the mission details like it was another pointless assignment.

"A D-rank mission?" Sasuke muttered, crossing his arms. "This is a waste of time."

Kakashi, as always, was unfazed. "You have to start somewhere. Consider it teamwork training."

Sakura perked up, brushing her hair back. "If we're working together, Sasuke-kun, then I'm fine with it!"

Naruto said nothing, just watching them with the same quiet expression he always wore. He had done nothing but D-ranks all week—picking up trash, walking dogs, pulling weeds. At least he didn't have to be a weasel again. Weasels were always blamed for stealing food, even if they didn't do it.

"Alright," Kakashi said, rolling the scroll shut. "Let's go find Tora."

Thirty minutes in, the mission had already gone downhill.

Sakura had scratches on her face. Sasuke was perched in a tree, glaring down at the bundle of leaves where Tora had just been a second ago. Kakashi was, as usual, reading his book. Naruto was standing in the middle of the training field, watching the chaos unfold with mild interest.

"That cat is a menace," Sakura growled, rubbing her cheek. "How does one animal cause so much trouble?"

"It's just a cat," Sasuke muttered, eyes scanning the area. "It can't hide forever."

"It's a ninja cat," Kakashi corrected absentmindedly, flipping a page. "It has more survival instincts than most Genin."

Sakura groaned, brushing her dirtied skirt. "Ugh, Naruto, help us already! You're just standing there!"

Naruto blinked at her. "You're chasing it wrong."

Sasuke scoffed. "Oh? And you know the right way?"

Naruto thought for a moment. "Yes."

Sakura huffed. "Then why haven't you caught it yet?"

Naruto tilted his head. "You didn't ask. Dattebane"

Silence.

Sasuke pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just—just go catch the cat, Naruto."

Naruto shrugged. "Okay."

Then he sat down.

Not in a combat stance, not in a ready position. Just cross-legged on the ground, hands resting on his knees. Sasuke and Sakura stared at him, and even Kakashi glanced up from his book.

"What are you doing?" Sakura demanded.

Naruto didn't answer. He just sat. He closed his eyes. Breathed in. Breathed out.

Then—

A rustling sound.

Sasuke turned, Sharingan flaring slightly. Sakura tensed. Kakashi's single visible eye widened just a fraction.

From the bushes, the small, furry head of a cat peeked out.

Tora.

The infamous demon feline of Konoha, the scratcher of a thousand Shinobi, the beast that had reduced seasoned Jounin to whimpering messes, the terror of D-rank missions—

It walked right up to Naruto.

Not cautiously. Not with suspicion. No hissing, no defensive stance.

Tora sniffed once, then sat in Naruto's lap.

Naruto's hand came up, scratched behind its ear, and the cat let out a pleased purr.

Sasuke's mouth opened slightly in disbelief. Sakura looked like she had just been hit by a Genjutsu. Kakashi lowered his book.

Naruto just kept petting the cat, running his fingers over its fur like it was the most natural thing in the world. Tora's eyes drooped, completely relaxed, tail flicking lazily.

Sakura's eye twitched. "HOW—?!"

"You're chasing it wrong," Naruto repeated simply, still stroking Tora's fur.

Sasuke's fingers twitched. "That's it? You just sit down and it comes to you?"

Naruto nodded. "It's a cat."

Sakura threw her hands up. "That doesn't explain anything!"

Naruto tilted his head slightly, expression blank. "If you chase something, it runs. If you don't chase it, it comes to you."

Sasuke looked personally offended by the logic. "That—That's ridiculous."

Naruto scratched under Tora's chin. "Okay."

Kakashi chuckled, putting his book away. "Well, mission accomplished. Good work, Naruto."

Naruto stood, cradling Tora in his arms, the cat still perfectly content. "Are we done?"

Kakashi nodded. "We're done."

Sakura dragged her hands down her face. "This isn't fair. That cat clawed me."

Sasuke scowled. "I refuse to believe that actually worked."

Naruto just blinked at them. "Maybe it likes me."

Tora nuzzled against his arm, purring loudly.

Kakashi hummed. "Or maybe you're secretly a cat whisperer."

Naruto thought about it. "I was a cat once. Dattebane."

Sakura squinted at him. "What?"

Naruto blinked. "Nothing."

The problem with D-rank missions was that they were all pointless busywork. Naruto figured the only reason they existed was to keep Genin too distracted to question why they weren't doing anything important. But even pointless tasks could be made tolerable with the right mindset.

Sasuke and Sakura didn't seem to share that sentiment.

"Are all our missions just going to be chores?" Sasuke muttered, standing stiffly with his arms crossed as an elderly farmer explained his missing herb situation.

"Well, we are new," Sakura said, trying to be reasonable. "They're not going to send us on anything big yet. Besides, how hard can it be to find some plants?"

The farmer was an old man with hunched shoulders, a wrinkled face, and a mouth that seemed permanently twisted in either irritation or exhaustion. "Ain't hard, just annoyin'. Kids these days don't know their weeds from their cabbages. Every time I send my grandson out, he comes back with garbage. If you lot can find the right herbs, I'll pay the village well for it."

Kakashi gave them all an eye-smile. "Well, you heard the man. Get to work."

Sakura sighed and rolled up her sleeves. Sasuke just walked toward the fields with his usual brooding expression. Naruto stood there, looking over the land, sniffing the air once before walking in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going?" Sakura called.

"To get the herbs."

"How do you even know where they are?"

Naruto pointed at his nose. "I can smell them."

The farmer squinted. "Boy, are you telling me you can sniff out plants?"

Naruto just nodded.

The old man grunted. "Well, I ain't gonna stop ya. If you find 'em first, you find 'em first."

Sasuke and Sakura took the logical approach—checking plant beds, carefully comparing the leaves to the pictures in their mission scroll. Naruto, on the other hand, crouched low, inhaled deeply, and just walked straight to a small patch near a fence. He plucked the right herbs with zero hesitation, placed them in a basket, and walked back to the old man before the other two even found one.

Sasuke and Sakura turned to see Naruto standing there, arms full of perfectly gathered herbs.

Sakura's eye twitched. "No way."

Naruto blinked at her. "What?"

"You just—you didn't even look!"

Naruto tilted his head. "I smelled them."

The old man took one look at the basket and nodded. "Well, I'll be damned. That's the exact batch I needed. Good work, kid."

Sasuke scowled. "That's not possible."

Naruto shrugged. "Okay."

Kakashi hummed, tapping his chin. "You know, if the whole Hokage thing doesn't work out, Naruto, you could always be a professional truffle hunter."

Naruto frowned. "I don't like mushrooms. Dattebane."

The next mission involved finding a missing dog.

Naruto had already proven his affinity for dealing with animals, so Kakashi didn't even bother pretending this was going to be difficult. The client—a woman in her mid-thirties—was already red-eyed and sniffling when they arrived.

"My little Maru-chan has been gone for two days! He's such a delicate thing, he won't last in the streets!"

Sasuke stared at her blankly. "It's a dog."

She gasped. "Not just any dog! He's my sweet baby!"

Naruto sniffed the air.

Sakura crossed her arms. "Don't worry, ma'am, we'll find him."

Naruto started walking.

"Where are you going?" Sasuke asked.

"To get the dog."

"You don't even know where it is!"

Naruto pointed at his nose again. "I can smell it. Dattebane"

The woman blinked. "Wait, are you saying you can track him just by scent?"

Naruto nodded.

Sasuke scoffed. "You're not an Inuzuka."

Naruto blinked at him. "Okay."

Ignoring them, he followed the scent down an alley, through a fence, over a rooftop, and finally to the marketplace, where a tiny, pampered Pomeranian was stuffing its face with free samples from a kind old food vendor.

Naruto crouched down. "Maru-chan?"

The dog looked up, mouth full of rice ball, then jumped into Naruto's arms like it had been expecting him.

Naruto returned to the client within five minutes.

She gasped, scooping up her pet. "Maru-chan! Oh, my baby, I was so worried!"

Naruto dusted off his pants. "He was eating."

Sasuke and Sakura arrived moments later, panting slightly from trying to keep up.

Sakura groaned. "Again?!"

Sasuke gritted his teeth. "This is ridiculous."

The client hugged Naruto tightly. "Oh, thank you so much, young man! You must be so gifted!"

Naruto, still trapped in her grip, blinked at Kakashi for help.

Kakashi only eye-smiled. "Looks like you're popular with animals and their owners, Naruto."

Naruto sighed.

The third mission of the week was retrieving a missing necklace.

Sakura was relieved. "Finally! Something that doesn't involve chasing animals!"

Sasuke nodded. "We should check for any pawnshops first. If it was stolen, that's the most likely place it would end up."

Naruto sniffed the air once, then started walking.

Sasuke pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let me guess. You can smell it."

Naruto didn't answer, just kept walking.

Kakashi hummed. "Well, no harm in following him."

Naruto led them behind a bakery, where a crow was currently trying to peck at a glimmering pendant caught between the cobblestones.

He reached down, plucked it up, and held it out. "Found it."

Sakura groaned. "Of course you did."

Sasuke looked personally offended. "How?!"

Naruto blinked. "It smelled like metal and perfume. Plus I know where a crow might hide a stolen necklace."

Kakashi chuckled. "Well, that's another one done."

Sakura flopped against a nearby wall. "Why are we even here?"

Naruto tilted his head. "Teamwork."

"That's not teamwork! That's you doing everything in five minutes while the rest of us run around like idiots!"

Sasuke glared at Naruto. "This isn't normal."

Naruto shrugged. "Okay."

Kakashi patted Sasuke on the back. "Don't take it too personally. Sometimes, people are just built different."

Naruto nodded. "I was a crow once. Dattebane."

Sakura squinted at him. "What?"

Naruto blinked. "Nothing."

—ToT—

D-ranks were getting on everyone's nerves. Not because the missions were hard—far from it. They were just chores. Pointless, mind-numbing chores. Babysitting loud kids, pulling weeds, scrubbing graffiti, catching cats—always catching that cat. It wasn't work for ninjas. It was work for civilians too lazy to do things themselves.

Sasuke had enough.

"This is a waste of time," he declared as they trudged back to the Hokage's office after another humiliating morning of doing a farmer's yard work.

Sakura, brushing dirt off her gloves, nodded. "I have to agree. Sensei, we've been doing D-ranks for weeks now. Shouldn't we get something more serious?"

Kakashi barely looked up from his book. "Mmm, that's up to the Hokage."

That was all the encouragement Sasuke needed. The moment they entered the office, he didn't even wait for formalities. "I want a C-rank mission."

Hiruzen raised a brow. "Is that so?"

Sakura chimed in. "Hokage-sama, we've done so many D-ranks already. We're ready for something harder."

Naruto blinked. A C-rank. A real mission. The kind where things could go wrong. The kind where people could die.

What if they had to kill? What if he was hunted?

Hiruzen's gaze settled on him. For a moment, Naruto just stared back, then shifted his eyes away. He wasn't sure if he was ready.

Hiruzen looked to Kakashi. "And what does their sensei think?"

Kakashi hummed, snapping his book shut. "I think D-ranks are... not exactly suited to their abilities."

The Hokage exhaled through his nose, mulling it over. "Very well." He picked up a scroll from his desk and unrolled it, skimming its contents. "Send in Tazuna."

Naruto froze.

Uh-oh.

A minute later, an old man stumbled into the room, the smell of alcohol clinging to him like cheap cologne. His skin was tanned from years of hard labor, his graying beard unkempt. He took one glance at Team 7 and made his disgust very clear.

"These brats are supposed to guard me?" He snorted, taking a swig from his liquor bottle. "That pipsqueak of a malnourished pinkie? That boy who looks like he's having a bad stomach? And that brat with tomato hair and glowing eyes?"

Sasuke twitched. His fingers curled into fists. Sakura's eye twitched even harder.

Naruto, ever blank-faced, just stared at him.

Kakashi, unfazed, chuckled. "Don't worry, Tazuna-san. I'm more than capable of watching over both them and you."

Tazuna huffed. "You better be."

Hiruzen ignored the exchange. "Your mission is simple—escort Tazuna to the Land of Waves and ensure his safety until his bridge is complete."

Kakashi turned to his students. "You have until tomorrow morning to gather everything you need. Meet me at the northern gate by sunrise."

Naruto walked away with the rest of them, hands in his pockets, deep in thought.

Another step to becoming a real shinobi.

—

The next morning, Naruto arrived early. Not because he was eager, but because he had always preferred getting to places ahead of time. Less noise. Less people.

The northern gate was quiet, the village just barely beginning to wake. He leaned against the wall, staring at the sky as the last traces of dawn faded.

Sasuke arrived next, looking as serious as ever. Sakura followed shortly, dressed in practical travel gear instead of her usual attire.

Kakashi, naturally, arrived late.

"Sorry, sorry," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I got lost on the road of life."

Sasuke rolled his eyes. Sakura sighed. Naruto just stared at him.

Tazuna was already there, grumbling about brats and irresponsibility and how he should have asked for a better team.

Kakashi ignored him. "Alright, everyone ready?"

They all nodded.

"Good. Let's go."

And with that, they set off.

—

The first few hours of travel were uneventful.

Naruto listened to the birds, the rustling leaves, the sound of their footsteps crunching against dirt. He liked nature. It was predictable, unlike humans.

Tazuna, meanwhile, wouldn't shut up.

"Man, you brats don't look like much, but I guess you'll have to do."

Sakura smiled, trying to be polite. "Don't worry, Tazuna-san. We won't let anything happen to you."

"Hmph. You better not. I have a bridge to build, and I'm not dying before it's finished."

Sasuke, walking beside Naruto, whispered, "Is it too late to request a different client?"

Naruto shrugged. "Probably."

They walked for a few more hours, the forest growing denser.

Then, Naruto saw it.

A puddle.

A completely out-of-place puddle in the middle of the road, despite the dry weather.

He didn't say anything. Just watched as they passed it.

Then, suddenly—

Chain whip!

Two masked figures burst from the puddle, chains flying toward Kakashi.

Naruto didn't even flinch as the chains ripped through their teacher, cutting him to shreds.

Sakura screamed.

Sasuke's eyes widened, but he reacted instantly, jumping back.

Naruto just sighed. "That's a clone."

Sure enough, Kakashi appeared behind them, completely unharmed, while the shredded "corpse" disappeared in a puff of smoke.

The two attackers barely had time to react before Sasuke moved.

Kunai flashed. One enemy staggered back, barely dodging.

Naruto, unfazed, stepped forward. He didn't bother drawing a weapon. He just... moved.

And suddenly, one of the masked men found himself slammed into the ground.

Sasuke stopped mid-strike, staring. "What the—"

Naruto had flipped the man effortlessly, his movements precise, almost animalistic.

The other attacker tried to run. Kakashi appeared behind him in an instant, slamming him down as well.

And just like that, it was over.

Tazuna was shaking. "What—what the hell was that?!"

Kakashi turned to him. "That's what I'd like to know. Tazuna-san, care to explain why two Chūnin-level assassins were waiting for us?"

Tazuna paled.

Naruto just sighed.

Yeah. This wasn't going to be a simple mission.

TBC

Chapter Text

Mission Went Wrong

Tazuna gulped under Kakashi's sharp gaze, shifting uncomfortably. His eyes darted toward the two unconscious assassins, then to the four shinobi who had so easily taken them down. He hesitated for a moment before rubbing the back of his head and laughing nervously.

"Well… uh… you see, the thing is… I might've… slightly downplayed the danger of this mission," he admitted.

Kakashi sighed, rubbing his temple. "Tazuna-san."

Tazuna held up his hands. "Listen, listen, I had to! If I told you guys the truth, the mission would've been bumped to a higher rank, and I can't afford that! The Land of Waves is poor, and Gatō's got us by the throat! If I didn't do this, the bridge would never be finished, and we'd all be doomed! I had to take a chance!"

Sakura looked horrified. "Wait, wait, wait—so this isn't just some simple escort mission? You lied to the Hokage?!"

Tazuna flinched but stayed firm. "I had no choice!"

Kakashi exhaled heavily, crossing his arms. "This mission was assigned as a C-rank, but these two were professionals. This means we're dealing with a much bigger threat than simple bandits." His visible eye sharpened. "And you knew this."

Tazuna lowered his gaze. "I… yeah."

Sasuke scoffed. "Tch. Typical."

Naruto just stared at him, blank and unreadable. He wasn't particularly surprised. Humans lied all the time. He had seen it in every life he had lived—desperation, fear, greed. It was all the same. Still, he wasn't sure how to feel about this.

Sakura turned to Kakashi. "Sensei, shouldn't we go back and report this? If this is actually an A-rank mission, then we shouldn't be handling it, right?"

Kakashi hummed, considering. "Technically, yes."

Tazuna's shoulders slumped. "So… you're really going to leave?" His voice was strained, his fists clenched. "You're just going to let us suffer? Let him win?"

There was silence.

Naruto felt the weight of the moment settle over them. Tazuna wasn't just trying to build a bridge—he was trying to free his people. It was a battle of survival, of resistance against a tyrant who saw them as nothing more than tools to exploit.

Naruto had been prey before. Had been hunted, had been powerless. He knew what it was like to have no control over his own fate.

Slowly, he turned to Kakashi. "We're already here."

Kakashi glanced at him.

Naruto continued, voice quiet but steady. "It'll take too long to get a replacement team. If we leave, they won't get help in time. If we stay, we might be able to finish this before it gets worse."

Sasuke huffed. "I can handle an A-rank mission."

Sakura bit her lip but, after a moment, nodded. "If we're careful, we can do this."

Kakashi studied them for a moment before sighing. "Alright. We'll continue."

Tazuna let out a breath of relief. "Thank you. Seriously, thank you."

Naruto didn't respond.

The journey continued, the air heavier than before. Now that they knew the stakes, every rustling leaf, every distant movement in the trees, every shadow felt like a potential threat.

Kakashi remained alert, but his body language was still relaxed—watchful, but unbothered.

Naruto, however, was more tense than usual. His mind kept circling back to one thing.

Those assassins had attacked Kakashi first.

A direct move to remove the strongest fighter. Which meant they knew who Kakashi was. Which meant they expected him.

This wasn't random.

They knew about Team 7.

They knew their route.

Naruto's fingers twitched.

They weren't just dealing with assassins.

Someone had planned this.

By late afternoon, they reached a wide riverbank. Tazuna led them to a small boat, explaining that they had to cross quietly since Gatō's men patrolled the area.

Naruto didn't like the water.

He had died in water before—drowned, hunted, dragged beneath the depths.

Still, he didn't hesitate as he stepped into the boat, settling himself as Tazuna paddled them forward.

The river was eerily quiet, mist rolling in thicker as they moved.

By the time they reached the other side, the air felt almost suffocating.

They walked for a few more minutes before Naruto's eyes narrowed.

Something was watching them.

Then—

Shhhk!

A massive sword whirled through the air, slamming into a tree with a deadly thunk.

The air turned deadly still.

Then, a deep voice rumbled from above.

"Well, well. I was hoping to see you, Copy Ninja Kakashi."

A figure stood on the sword's hilt, looming over them with a shark-like grin.

Zabuza Momochi.

Kakashi's eye darkened. "Everyone, stay back."

Naruto didn't need to be told twice.

This wasn't just another enemy.

This was real.

This was a true predator.

And for the first time in a long time, Naruto felt like prey again.

The air crackled with tension as Kakashi lifted his forehead protector, revealing the crimson Sharingan beneath. The single eye swirled, locking onto Zabuza with chilling precision. The rogue shinobi smirked, his stance shifting as he prepared to face the infamous Copy Ninja.

Naruto barely breathed. This wasn't like the fights at the Academy, or even against those assassin brothers. This was different. Zabuza radiated something—something primal, something that sent every instinct screaming that this wasn't just a battle. This was a hunt.

And they were the prey.

Zabuza's grin stretched wider. "So the rumors are true. You really do have the Sharingan."

Kakashi's voice was steady. "And you're as talkative as the Bingo Book says."

A low chuckle rumbled from Zabuza's throat. "Hah! This is going to be fun." He vanished.

Naruto's muscles tensed, his breath hitching as the mist around them thickened. It wasn't natural mist. It was heavy, cloying, unnatural. Chakra-infused.

Sakura shifted closer to Tazuna, gripping a kunai in her trembling hands. Sasuke's jaw tightened, his fingers curling.

Then—

Kakashi's voice rang out. "Get down!"

A shadow exploded from the mist.

Steel met steel in a violent clang as Kakashi's kunai deflected Zabuza's massive cleaver mid-swing. Water sprayed from the force of impact, rippling through the mist.

Zabuza laughed. "Not bad."

Then he vanished again.

Naruto clenched his fists. He couldn't see him. He couldn't sense him. His eyes darted through the mist, scanning, searching, but Zabuza was a ghost.

Then, a whisper.

"Eight points."

Naruto's blood ran cold.

"The lungs… the liver… the spine…"

A shadow loomed behind them.

"The jugular… the kidneys… the heart."

Zabuza was inside their guard.

Naruto turned, fast—

Only for Kakashi to materialize in front of them, kunai raised.

Shhhk!

Zabuza's massive blade clashed against Kakashi's weapon, forcing him back.

The rogue smirked. "Your reaction time's sharp. But how long can you keep up?"

Kakashi's Sharingan spun. "Long enough."

Water surged around Zabuza's feet as he leapt back, forming hand seals in a blur.

Naruto saw it, saw the way the water moved unnaturally, and his stomach dropped.

Water Clone.

Multiple Zabuza clones rose from the mist, stepping toward them with matching grins.

"Protect Tazuna!" Kakashi snapped before vanishing into the mist after the original.

Naruto didn't hesitate, stepping in front of the bridge builder as the clones lunged.

Sasuke moved beside him, kunai flashing as he intercepted the first.

Sakura stayed behind Tazuna, her back rigid as she gripped her weapon.

Naruto's instincts screamed. He dodged left, barely missing the swipe of a clone's blade. His footwork was quick, fluid—too fast for a genin, too sharp for someone his age. But the clone was relentless, pressing forward, forcing Naruto into a defensive dance.

Not good.

Water clones were durable. Even if they weren't as strong as the original, they were still fast, still dangerous.

Naruto twisted, flipping backward as the clone swiped again. His fingers blurred through seals.

Shadow Clone Jutsu.

Three clones burst into existence beside him, immediately rushing the water clone with synchronized attacks.

A punch to the ribs. A sweep to the legs. A kunai to the throat.

The water clone burst into a splash of liquid, dissolving back into the mist.

Naruto exhaled sharply, already pivoting as another clone lunged.

Sasuke had taken down one already, his breathing heavy but controlled. His Sharingan wasn't active yet—probably couldn't be—but his movements were efficient, calculated.

Sakura hadn't engaged yet, holding position near Tazuna, her kunai shaking slightly in her grip.

Naruto's eyes flicked to her, then back to the enemy.

If even one clone got past them—

Another surge of chakra rippled through the mist.

Naruto felt it before he saw it.

Kakashi's chakra spiked.

His head snapped toward the fight between their sensei and the real Zabuza, eyes widening.

Zabuza was winning.

The mist thickened, swallowing Kakashi's figure. Then, a shadow moved—

And Kakashi collapsed into the river, trapped inside a sphere of swirling water.

Naruto's stomach clenched.

Water Prison.

Zabuza stood on the surface, his arm outstretched, holding the jutsu effortlessly. His grin was sharp. "Well, this was easier than I thought."

Kakashi's face was calm, but his eye was sharp. "Don't just stand there. Move."

Zabuza chuckled. "It's pointless. That brat team of yours can't do a thing."

Naruto's breath was steady.

The situation had turned sour, fast. Kakashi was trapped, suspended inside Zabuza's Water Prison Jutsu, his body rigid but his eye sharp, tracking every movement, every shift in the battlefield. The enemy's clone loomed over them, cleaver resting lazily on his shoulder, daring them to make a move.

"Run," Kakashi ordered, voice firm. "Take Tazuna and go."

Sasuke's jaw clenched. Sakura looked frozen. Naruto stared, unblinking.

Leaving a comrade behind.

He hated shinobi. Always had. They hunted, killed, and took what they wanted—no remorse, no hesitation. He had been prey, predator, and everything in between. He had been torn apart, poisoned, eaten, skinned alive, and discarded as nothing.

But Inu—Kakashi—had never hurt him.

And Naruto didn't want him to die.

He thought fast. The Water Prison was sturdy, formed from thick, swirling chakra-infused liquid. He had no wind jutsu strong enough to disperse it. No weapons sharp enough to cut through it. No speed fast enough to counter it.

But he had memories.

Memories of wind ripping through the sky, of powerful currents lifting his wings, of soaring so high the earth became a distant blur beneath him.

A Quetzalcoatlus.

Naruto took a breath.

He brought his hands together, fingers curling into a seal, channeling his chakra.

Sasuke saw it first—the way the air around Naruto shifted.

The way the mist started to pull toward him.

The way the leaves on the trees trembled.

The way the very atmosphere around them seemed to inhale.

Naruto exhaled.

And the world roared.

A hurricane-force gale exploded from his hands, a sheer force of wind that howled through the clearing, erasing the mist as it surged forward. It slammed into Zabuza like a tidal wave, tearing him away from the water prison, away from the river, away from everything.

Zabuza flew.

He crashed through trees, slamming against the earth, rolling before skidding to a halt, dazed and breathless.

The Water Prison shattered.

Kakashi dropped to his knees, coughing sharply, water dripping from his form as he whipped his head around to Naruto.

Naruto stood, arms still outstretched, face blank. The gale had already died down, but its effects remained. The mist had vanished, trees bent at unnatural angles, leaves scattered across the battlefield.

Kakashi's one visible eye narrowed slightly.

Then, without another word, he turned his attention back to Zabuza.

The rogue shinobi groaned, pushing himself up. He wiped blood from his mouth, then tilted his head, staring at Naruto.

"What the hell was that?"

Naruto just blinked at him.

Zabuza's smirk twitched back into place. "Heh. Interesting."

Kakashi didn't give him a chance to recover.

With a burst of speed, he vanished.

Zabuza barely brought up his cleaver in time to meet Kakashi's kunai, the two clashing with a spray of water.

Sasuke finally exhaled. "What… just happened?"

Sakura swallowed. "Naruto, what was that?"

Naruto tilted his head. "Wind."

Sasuke scowled. "No shit."

Tazuna gawked at him. "Kid, remind me never to piss you off."

Naruto just stared as Kakashi and Zabuza engaged in a brutal exchange, steel meeting steel in a flurry of precise, calculated strikes.

But in the back of his mind, he wondered.

How many more memories of his past lives could he use?

Kakashi moved like a shadow, his Sharingan spinning, tracking every twitch of Zabuza's muscles. The rogue shinobi was fast, strong, and merciless, but Kakashi was reading him, mimicking his movements, predicting his next strike before he even made it.

Zabuza scowled, gripping his cleaver tight. "Damn copy ninja..."

He swung, but Kakashi dodged, slipping past his defenses like water. A kunai lashed out, grazing Zabuza's bicep, drawing a thin line of blood.

"You're too slow," Kakashi murmured, voice low and calm.

Zabuza gritted his teeth, shifting back, adjusting his grip. He wasn't used to being pushed like this.

And then—

A whistle split the air.

Kakashi barely had time to register the blur before thunk—two senbon needles embedded themselves into Zabuza's neck.

Zabuza's eyes widened. His grip on his cleaver slackened.

And then he collapsed.

The silence was deafening.

Naruto stared. Sasuke tensed. Sakura clutched Tazuna's sleeve.

And then—

"I appreciate your help," a voice said.

They turned.

A shinobi stood on a tree branch, clad in a deep blue outfit, their face hidden behind a porcelain mask. The symbol of Kirigakure's hunter-nin gleamed under the fading light.

"Zabuza Momochi was a rogue ninja from our village," the masked nin continued, voice smooth. "Thank you for weakening him. I'll be taking the body back."

Kakashi exhaled, lowering his kunai. "Hunter-nin, huh?"

The masked figure nodded.

They leapt down, landing near Zabuza's fallen form. A hand touched his neck, feeling for a pulse, before nodding slightly.

"He's dead."

Naruto narrowed his eyes.

Something was off.

The masked ninja heaved Zabuza's massive frame onto their back effortlessly.

"Thank you again," they said, before disappearing into the trees, body flickering out of sight.

Sakura exhaled, finally relaxing. "That was close."

"Too close," Sasuke muttered, eyes still sharp.

But Naruto—

Naruto stared after them.

He had been prey too many times to not recognize a lie.

His glowing blue eyes flicked to Kakashi. "Why did you let them go?"

Kakashi gave him a tired look. "Naruto—"

"They were lying," he said flatly.

Kakashi sighed, rubbing his temple. "Yes."

Sakura's head snapped toward them. "Wait—what?"

"Zabuza's not dead," Kakashi admitted. "Those senbon were too precise. They didn't hit anything vital. The hunter-nin just put him in a near-death state."

Naruto frowned. "Then why—"

"Because I'm too tired to fight another battle right now," Kakashi muttered.

And then—

He collapsed.

"Sensei!" Sakura yelped.

Naruto watched as Kakashi hit the dirt, his entire body slack, Sharingan flickering out of sight as his headband slipped back into place.

Sasuke took a step forward, scowling. "Seriously?"

Tazuna looked down. "Uh. I mean. My house is close."

Naruto crouched, inspecting Kakashi's unconscious form. His breathing was steady, just shallow.

Naruto sighed, glancing at Sasuke. "Help me carry him."

Sasuke groaned. "Tch. Fine."

Together, they hoisted their jounin instructor up, arms slung over their shoulders, dragging him along the dirt path.

"Geez," Sasuke muttered. "He's heavier than he looks."

"He's dead weight," Naruto said.

"Obviously—"

"Literally, dead weight," Naruto repeated. "He passed out. He can't hold himself up. We're carrying a log, basically."

Sasuke scowled. "Shut up and walk."

Tazuna led the way, Sakura trailing behind, muttering about how unfair this all was.

Naruto had a feeling this mission was about to get a whole lot messier.

TBC

Chapter Text

Training

The inside of Tazuna's house was small, but warm, the air thick with the scent of wood, salt, and something vaguely herbal. The old bridge builder led them inside without much ceremony, muttering something about "bratty shinobi" before pointing toward a room for Kakashi.

Sasuke and Naruto half-dragged, half-dumped their unconscious sensei onto the futon, adjusting his limbs so he at least looked comfortable. Sakura fussed over him, checking his pulse, murmuring about chakra exhaustion, but Kakashi just lay there, utterly still.

Naruto nudged his foot. Nothing.

"Think he's dead?"

Sasuke rolled his eyes. "He's breathing, idiot."

Naruto hummed. "Happens sometimes."

Sakura glared at him. "What do you mean happens sometimes?"

Naruto just shrugged.

With Kakashi taken care of, they finally left the room, stepping back into the dimly lit hallway. The wooden floors creaked beneath their feet as they followed Tazuna into the main area of the house, where a woman—Tsunami, Tazuna's daughter—was already preparing food.

"Inari!" she called. "Come meet the ninja protecting Grandpa!"

A small boy with tanned skin and a scowl waddled into the room, giving Team 7 a slow once-over. He lingered on Sasuke and Naruto the longest before his scowl deepened.

"You're all gonna die," he announced.

Sakura gaped. "Excuse me?"

Inari folded his arms. "Gatō is too strong. You should just leave. You're wasting your time."

Sakura sputtered. "What kind of greeting—"

Sasuke just clicked his tongue and turned away, obviously uninterested in arguing with a child. Naruto, however, tilted his head at the boy, blinking slowly, before saying, "Okay."

Inari blinked. "What?"

Naruto yawned. "Okay."

"…Okay what?"

Naruto wandered over to the couch, flopping onto it. "Okay. We'll die."

Sakura threw her hands up. "Don't say that!"

Naruto ignored her, curling up slightly, tucking his arms in. His glowing blue eyes flickered once before slipping shut, his breathing already evening out.

There was a long, long silence.

Then—

"…Uh, Sasuke-kun," Sakura whispered. "Why is Naruto… sleeping on the couch like a cat?"

Sasuke didn't even look. "Don't ask."

Inari just stared at the boy, utterly perplexed.

Tsunami, however, smiled. "He must be tired. Let him rest."

Sakura pursed her lips but didn't argue.

Sasuke sat against the wall, arms crossed, settling in for a long night of brooding.

Naruto, meanwhile, simply dozed, utterly at ease, curled into himself like he was made for it. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, face peaceful, hair spilling messily over the cushions. He didn't snore. Didn't move. Just breathed, quiet and deep, as if he'd already tuned out the world.

Tsunami covered him with a light blanket before returning to the kitchen.

The night stretched on.

Sakura tried to keep her thoughts away from the battle earlier, from the eerie masked shinobi, from the way Kakashi had collapsed without a second thought.

Sasuke kept his eyes on the window, sharp and watchful, always waiting, always on guard.

Naruto just… slept.

And for once, the house was quiet.

—ToT—

The night air was crisp, cool against his skin as Naruto padded through the quiet yard, the faint rustling of leaves the only sound accompanying him. The sky above was an endless stretch of black, the moon a pale crescent, silver light draping over the house and surrounding trees like a thin veil. It was peaceful, the kind of silence he liked—where nothing was expected of him, where he wasn't bound to human conversation or strange social customs. Just the night and the whisper of the wind.

And the sudden, overwhelming urge to pee.

Naruto frowned, shifting uncomfortably where he stood. He didn't remember Tsunami mentioning where the bathroom was, and he wasn't about to wake someone up just to ask. He figured the bushes outside would do just fine. He'd been an animal for most of his lives—humans were the only ones who made a big deal about where to relieve themselves.

Padding toward a more secluded area, he unfastened his pants and—

A prickling sensation crept up his spine.

Naruto paused.

His senses flared.

A presence.

Subtle. Hidden. But not enough.

Someone was watching him.

Slowly, Naruto straightened, adjusting his clothing before turning his head, scanning the trees with eerily calm, glowing eyes. He stood still for a long moment, letting the silence settle, waiting to see if the person would move. They didn't. But they were there, just beyond the tree line, barely visible in the shadows.

A shinobi.

Naruto breathed in.

"Owl," he whispered.

Immediately, his vision sharpened, pupils expanding, eyes glowing faintly in the dark as his world became clearer, more detailed. The figure in the trees came into focus.

Small. Slender. A girl, maybe, although she smelt like a boy. The one who had "killed" Zabuza.

She was crouched on a thick branch, watching him. Studying him.

Naruto tilted his head slightly to the side, mirroring an owl's motion, blinking slow and deliberate.

The figure hesitated for a moment longer before vanishing into the darkness, gone as quickly as she'd appeared.

Naruto stayed where he was, staring at the empty space she'd occupied.

Then, with a soft huff, he turned back toward the house.

That was weird.

The next morning, Kakashi decided it was time for some actual training.

"If we're going to fight Zabuza again," he said, still looking half-asleep, "you're going to need better control over your chakra."

"Uh, sensei?" Sakura perked up. "Does this mean we're skipping D-ranks?"

Kakashi gave a lazy eye smile. "For now."

Sakura actually sighed in relief. Sasuke huffed. Naruto blinked.

"Alright," Kakashi continued, "today, we're working on chakra control. Specifically, tree climbing."

Naruto frowned. "I can already do that."

Kakashi gave him a look. "Not like this."

Then, with all the grace of a veteran shinobi, Kakashi walked up the side of a tree.

Naruto's frown deepened.

"Huh."

Sakura was watching with fascination, Sasuke looked interested, but Naruto remained expressionless, eyes tracking every step Kakashi took.

"This technique," Kakashi explained, coming to a stop upside-down on a branch, "is a fundamental exercise for controlling chakra. By focusing chakra into the soles of your feet, you can stick to surfaces and walk up vertical structures without using your hands. It requires precise control—too little, and you'll fall; too much, and you'll repel yourself."

He flipped off the branch and landed effortlessly before them, still radiating an aura of casual boredom.

"To practice, you'll need to run up the tree and mark the highest point you reach with a kunai before you fall. The goal is to reach the top without slipping."

Sakura nodded eagerly. Sasuke smirked. Naruto was still frowning slightly, as if mentally dissecting the technique.

"Alright," Kakashi said. "Go ahead and try."

Sakura took a steady breath, focused her chakra, and sprinted toward the tree. She ran up with perfect precision, marking her spot near the top before flipping off and landing gracefully.

Naruto blinked. "Huh."

Sasuke narrowed his eyes, determined, and launched himself at a tree. He made it about halfway before the bark cracked beneath his feet and he was forced to jump off, landing in a crouch. His jaw clenched.

Naruto observed.

Then, after a pause, he stepped up to his own tree.

Lifted a foot.

And walked straight up to the top.

Effortlessly.

Silence.

Sakura gawked. Sasuke stiffened. Kakashi sighed.

Naruto, still standing upside-down on the highest branch, looked down at them blankly. "…Was that not it?"

"…No, Naruto," Kakashi said dryly. "You were supposed to practice."

Naruto tilted his head. "This is practice."

Kakashi pinched the bridge of his nose.

Sasuke scowled, clearly irritated. "How did you do that so fast?"

Naruto blinked at him. "I dunno. Just did."

Sakura muttered something under her breath, rubbing her temple.

Kakashi exhaled slowly. "Alright, Naruto. Since you're ahead of the lesson plan, you get to work on the next step."

Naruto perked up. "Next step?"

"While your teammates train, you're going to practice keeping your balance in different positions. Walking, running, jumping—anything to make it more difficult."

Naruto considered that. Then, without hesitation, he flipped upside-down, hanging off the branch by his feet.

Sakura sighed.

Sasuke stabbed a kunai into the tree and muttered something about "damn freaks."

Training continued.

Sasuke kept struggling but progressed.

Sakura had already mastered it and was now watching Sasuke critically, sometimes giving unsolicited advice, which only made him more irritated.

Naruto, meanwhile, had stopped walking normally altogether and was now crawling up trees like a spider, occasionally jumping from branch to branch in odd, animalistic movements.

Kakashi, watching all this, just sighed again.

What an interesting team.

—ToT—

Naruto walked beside Tazuna, eyes scanning the streets with quiet observation.

Wave Country was… poor.

It wasn't like Konoha. No bright shops, no bustling crowds, no lively chatter of people moving about their day. Instead, there were hollow-eyed men slumped against buildings, dirty children in ragged clothes sitting in the shadows, thin hands clutching their knees. The streets smelled of salt and rot, the air heavy with the kind of silence that only came from a people who had lost too much. The shops they passed were nearly empty, shelves dusty, stocked with only the bare minimum. A single potato sat on display at one vendor's stand. 30 ryō.

Naruto blinked. That was robbery.

Tazuna sighed. "Now you see it, huh?" His voice was gruff, but there was something tired in it, something old and resigned. "This is what Gatō has done to us."

Naruto said nothing, listening.

Tazuna took a swig from his bottle, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. "He came in a few years back, smiling like a businessman, promising 'development' and 'prosperity' and all that nonsense. Then he bought out all the shipping businesses, took control of trade, and jacked up the prices of everything. The rich got richer, the poor got poorer, and anyone who tried to stand against him—" He made a slicing motion across his throat.

Naruto glanced at the people around them, their downcast eyes, their slumped shoulders. The weight of oppression was visible in the way they moved, the way they barely acknowledged each other. A community that had given up.

Humans were so greedy. Always taking, always dirty. But shinobi? Shinobi were worse.

And then it happened.

A scream. A yelp. A little girl, no older than seven or eight, yanked off her feet by a burly man with a greasy ponytail and yellowed teeth.

"C'mon now, brat," the man sneered, dragging her forward despite her struggles. "Boss says we need some fresh faces. You'll make good entertainment."

No one moved.

No one interfered.

The market continued as if nothing was happening. Vendors averted their gazes. Bystanders shuffled away. The little girl thrashed, but she was too small, too weak.

Naruto stared, something deep and quiet settling in his stomach.

Should I help?

What if he attacks me?

The thought crossed his mind, an old instinct from lifetimes past. Fear. Prey animals never interfered in a predator's hunt, because that meant drawing attention to yourself. That meant getting killed next.

But he wasn't prey anymore.

He walked forward.

The man barely glanced at him. "Piss off, brat."

Naruto tilted his head. "Why do you want her for entertainment?" His voice was calm, almost curious. "I thought humans had TV. Or books. Or music."

The man blinked, then scowled. "What the hell is wrong with you? Get lost before I—"

Then he paused, finally getting a good look at Naruto. At his blank expression. At his glowing sapphire eyes.

"…The hell's up with your eyes?"

Naruto blinked. The little girl looked at him, desperate, pleading.

The man turned, dragging her again.

Naruto grabbed his wrist.

"Hey!" The man jerked, but Naruto's grip didn't budge. "I said fuck off, you little—"

Crack.

A scream tore through the market as the man collapsed, clutching his arm, bones jutting out at a grotesque angle. He convulsed on the ground, mouth open in a silent wail, body twitching uncontrollably.

The street froze.

Some gasped in horror. Others… smirked. Satisfied.

Naruto simply let go, watching as the man spasmed, his eyes rolling back. Then, after a moment, he stopped moving.

Naruto turned back to Tazuna, expression unreadable. "Tsunami said she needed garlic. Let's go."

Tazuna stared at him.

Then, slowly, he took another swig of his liquor.

"…Yeah," he muttered, exhaling. "Let's go."

And just like that, they walked away.

—ToT—

Dinner at Tazuna's house was quiet at first. The only sounds were the clinking of chopsticks against bowls and the occasional slurp of soup. The food wasn't much, but it was warm, filling, and better than anything Naruto had eaten in a long time.

Tsunami had been generous, cooking as much as she could manage for the team, and even though it was just rice, fish, and miso soup, Naruto ate without complaint. He never complained about food. He never wasted food.

Across the table, Inari sat with his arms crossed, scowling. The boy had been glaring at them ever since they arrived, and it was getting a little old.

"You guys are idiots," Inari finally muttered, breaking the silence.

Sakura blinked. "What?"

"You think you can beat Gatō?" Inari scoffed, voice thick with bitterness. "You're just a bunch of dumb ninja from some big village who don't know how things work here. Gatō will kill you. He'll kill all of you, just like he killed my dad. No one can stand up to him."

Sasuke ignored him. Sakura frowned. Kakashi, still recovering from chakra exhaustion, barely looked up from his food.

Naruto didn't listen.

Or rather, he heard, but it wasn't important.

Instead, he focused on eating, scooping another bite of rice into his mouth.

Then Inari moved.

A sharp push.

Naruto's bowl tipped over, spilling rice onto the floor.

The room went silent.

Sakura gasped. Tsunami looked horrified. Tazuna groaned, rubbing his forehead like he had a headache. Even Sasuke paused, watching with mild interest.

Inari huffed, arms crossed again. "Just go home before you die."

Naruto stared at the fallen rice.

It wasn't that there wasn't more food. Tsunami would gladly serve seconds.

But Naruto had been an orphan since birth. He had lived alone, scrounging for meals, sometimes going days without eating. And before that, in the countless lives he could remember, he had been an animal. A creature that knew hunger, that knew what it was like to starve, to fight for every scrap of food.

Food was never wasted.

So, without a word, Naruto got off his chair, sat cross-legged on the dirty wooden floor, and picked up his chopsticks.

Then, shocking everyone, he started eating the rice off the ground.

Tsunami gasped. "Naruto, you don't have to—"

"You should eat your food too," Naruto said simply, chewing. "It's getting cold."

No one knew what to say.

Sakura's mouth opened and closed, her face twisted in a mix of secondhand embarrassment and something else, something she didn't quite understand.

Sasuke stared, chopsticks frozen mid-air.

Kakashi, ever unreadable, only raised an eyebrow.

Inari gawked.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" the boy muttered.

Naruto blinked, chewing slowly. He swallowed, looking at Inari with his usual blank expression. "I'm eating."

"Off the floor."

"Yeah."

"...Why?"

Naruto glanced at the rice in his chopsticks. "Because it's food."

Silence.

Tsunami looked near tears. "You don't have to do that, dear. I can get you more—"

Naruto shook his head. "This is fine."

More silence.

Inari's scowl deepened. His jaw clenched, and for a second, it almost looked like he wanted to cry. Then, with a frustrated growl, he shoved away from the table and stormed out.

The room stayed quiet long after he was gone.

Sakura finally broke the silence. "You're so different, Naruto."

Naruto just kept eating.

TBC

Chapter Text

Demon VS Nature

A week had passed since Naruto's impromptu rice-eating moment. The team had settled into a rhythm of sorts. Kakashi was still recovering, but the team knew they had to focus on their mission. Tazuna's bridge was their priority. So while the others were out working at the bridge, Naruto had stayed behind, as usual, inside Tazuna's house.

Tsunami was cooking, the smell of fresh fish filling the air as Naruto sat in the corner of the room. He wasn't tired—his body didn't need sleep much. But his mind wandered. Sometimes, he thought about the countless lives he had lived, about the creatures he had been, about the wars and the betrayals, the survival instincts that drove him. Other times, he thought about how the world hadn't changed, not really, no matter what he had lived through. Greed. Hatred. Survival. He'd seen it all.

Naruto wasn't one to talk much. And today, there was something unsettling in the air. Maybe it was the mist that clung to the trees outside, or the way the sky had turned gray and heavy. Whatever it was, it made him restless.

And then, the door burst open.

The sound of splintering wood filled the house as the door flew off its hinges. Tsunami froze in the kitchen, her hand still on the pot, eyes wide with fear. Inari, who had been sitting at the table with his arms cross ed, scowling, jumped to his feet, his face draining of color as he saw the figures standing in the doorway.

Two men. Tall, rough-looking men, dressed in dark clothing, their faces half-covered by masks. One had a sword strapped to his back, the other a cruel grin as he stood in the doorway.

Tsunami gasped, her hand trembling as she gripped the edge of the counter. "W-Who are you?"

The man with the sword sneered. "We're here for the bridge builder, woman. And you're going to help us."

Inari's eyes widened, and he instinctively moved toward Tsunami, but it was too late. The men were already moving.

Tsunami took a step back, terror flashing in her eyes. "Please, don't hurt us! We have nothing—"

The man raised his sword. Tsunami flinched, eyes shut tight in fear.

But then, it happened. The pressure in the room shifted.

Naruto didn't move from where he sat. He didn't flinch. His eyes didn't even widen. There was a stillness in him, a calm that went beyond just the physical. Something had changed in the atmosphere. The two men, once confident, now found themselves rooted to the spot, unable to move, as if invisible weights pressed down on them. Their legs trembled, their hands gripping their weapons uselessly.

Tsunami and Inari stared in disbelief. Even the men's swords felt heavy in their hands, like they were holding solid rock instead of metal. The air around them felt thick, suffocating, as if the very room had grown impossibly heavy.

Naruto stood up.

"Couldn't you just knock?" he asked, his voice flat, with no sign of emotion, as if he were talking to a child who had made a minor mistake.

"Don't act cocky, b-brat!" One man yelled, though eyes full of fear.

"Are you going to kill them?" Naruto pointed a finger at the mother and son duo.

"Obviously, but not before she gives us some... company," They said, even though they were sensing something unnatural.

Tsunami shivered under their lustful gaze.

"I don't understand what you mean by 'company'" Naruto said honestly but he had an idea. "I reckon you did this before?"

Their grins were all he needed to see as confirmation.

"I see, then I suppose I should kill you," Naruto said simply, his glowing sapphire eyes hollow. "Even though I don't like the concept of killing. Dattebane."

The men's eyes widened in panic, but they couldn't move. Their bodies were paralyzed by the sheer presence that Naruto radiated. For a split second, they thought they might actually be facing something beyond human.

The one holding the sword tried to strike. It was pathetic. He swung with all his might, but the blade didn't cut a thing. It barely even touched Naruto's clothing before the man stumbled back, as if repelled by some invisible force.

Naruto's sapphire eyes narrowed. There was no hesitation.

In a fluid motion, faster than they could react, Naruto grabbed both men by their heads. His grip was inhuman, his fingers like steel, crushing their skulls with a sickening crack. The men's bodies jerked and twitched, but Naruto didn't let go until their bodies went completely limp. He didn't care about the blood or gore; he knew there was no other way to do it.

But Naruto wasn't an animal that allowed mess. He didn't like blood on the floor, especially not in Tazuna's house. Flies. He hated flies. They buzzed around, annoying and relentless. And so, with a small flick of his wrist, he made sure that not a single drop of blood stained the ground.

He let go of the two bodies, their heads twisted at odd angles as they collapsed.

Naruto turned toward the house, eyes briefly scanning Tsunami and Inari. His voice was as impassive as always. "I'll take care of it. Stay inside."

With that, he walked out of the house. He didn't need to say more; they wouldn't question it.

The wind whipped at his face as he sprinted toward the bridge. He could smell the blood in the air, thick and metallic, carried on the wind. The mist hung low in the trees, thickening the atmosphere as he moved. There was something more here—he could feel it. He had always been attuned to such things. The presence of danger, the taste of violence. It was almost like an instinct.

Zabuza was back.

Naruto's eyes glinted with a cold understanding. There were no words for what he would do next. He wouldn't hesitate. Not this time. He couldn't afford to. There were too many lives at stake.

As he sprinted, he could hear the distant clash of steel, the sounds of battle cutting through the mist. Kakashi was out there, fighting, but Naruto could feel the strain in the air. His senses were alive, every part of him attuned to the situation at hand.

He didn't know what exactly had happened, but he knew that Zabuza was not an easy opponent. The man was dangerous, a monster in human form, and Naruto would need to be just as vicious if he was going to stand a chance.

The bridge was within sight now, its skeletal frame looming through the mist like a shadow. Naruto's eyes locked onto the figure in the distance. Zabuza, standing tall, sword in hand, was locked in combat with Kakashi. Their movements were a blur of speed and precision, the sound of metal clashing filling the air.

Naruto's muscles tensed, but he didn't slow down. He wasn't there to watch. He was there to finish it.

He pushed his chakra through his body, his limbs moving faster, sharper. He was like the wind, darting through the trees and over the uneven ground, barely making a sound. He was closing the distance fast.

Kakashi was struggling. His body was exhausted from the earlier fight, and Zabuza was relentless. But Naruto wasn't about to let his sensei fall. Not today.

He leapt into the fray, his presence cutting through the tension like a blade.

Zabuza turned his head, a glint of recognition in his eyes. But before he could react, Naruto was there, his fist moving like a flash of lightning.

With a single, powerful strike, he sent Zabuza stumbling back, off balance. Zabuza's eyes widened for a moment before he regained his footing.

Kakashi took the opportunity, launching forward with his own attack. But it was Naruto's intervention that turned the tide.

The battle was far from over. Zabuza wasn't the kind of person who gave up easily. But Naruto wasn't giving him a choice.

This was the moment.

The mist clung to the bridge like a thick shroud, curling around the skeletal framework, blurring the lines between reality and illusion. The air was damp, heavy with the scent of blood and steel. Sasuke was already down, his body trembling from exhaustion and pain. Sakura stood near Tazuna, her kunai clenched tightly in her shaking hands, eyes darting between the chaos of battle. But it was Kakashi and Zabuza who remained locked in a deadly dance, each movement calculated, each strike carrying the weight of their experience.

And then there was Naruto.

Zabuza's sharp, beady eyes landed on him, locking onto his unmoving form. His breath came in slow, steady puffs, his massive sword resting casually on his shoulder. But there was nothing casual about the way he studied Naruto.

"You," Zabuza drawled, his voice cutting through the mist like a blade. "You have the face of a predator."

Naruto didn't react, his glowing sapphire eyes steady, blank as always.

Zabuza's lips curled into something between a grin and a sneer. "Oh yeah... you've killed before, haven't you?"

Naruto blinked.

"I can tell," Zabuza continued, his voice thick with amusement, but also something darker. "It's in your stance. The way you breathe. The way you look at me." His grip on his blade tightened slightly. "You don't see people the way normal brats do. You see them like prey."

Naruto remained still, but something about the way his fingers twitched at his side betrayed a flicker of irritation.

"You hesitate, though," Zabuza mused. "Strange. Someone like you shouldn't hesitate." He tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting like a wolf's in the dark. "What's the matter, kid? Don't like being called what you are?"

Naruto's lips parted, and for a moment, it looked like he might actually respond. But then, Kakashi's voice cut through the mist.

"Naruto," Kakashi said, firm and steady despite his exhaustion. "Take care of Zabuza's lackey."

Naruto turned his head slightly, regarding Kakashi with unreadable eyes.

"But do I have to kill him?" Naruto asked, his voice quiet but clear. "I don't want to."

Kakashi exhaled. "If you have to."

Zabuza laughed, the sound low and raspy. "Listen to your sensei, brat. If you're gonna play in the real world, you don't get to choose who lives and dies. Kill or be killed. That's how this works."

Naruto's fingers twitched again, his body tensing.

Zabuza smirked and lifted a hand. "Haku."

A blur of motion. A flicker of something fast, faster than even the mist itself.

And then, there they were. The fake hunter-nin, the one who had "killed" Zabuza before. Masked, delicate in frame, but undeniably dangerous. They stood across from Naruto, their body perfectly still, a kunai held loosely in their fingers.

Naruto's glowing eyes locked onto them immediately.

"Haku," Zabuza said, his tone almost lazy, but there was an edge of command to it. "Take care of the brat."

Haku didn't hesitate.

"As you wish, Zabuza-sama."

And then, they moved.

Naruto barely had time to breathe before Haku moved. A blur of motion, a flicker of steel, the deadly grace of a shinobi who had been trained to kill. But Naruto wasn't slow.

He tilted his head at just the right moment, avoiding the kunai that should have sliced his cheek open. Haku's eyes widened slightly, barely visible through the mask. The moment stretched thin, tension crackling like lightning between them.

"You're fast," Haku murmured.

Naruto blinked. "You too."

Then they clashed.

Kunai against kunai, steel ringing out as they exchanged blows. Haku was precise, movements smooth, elegant even, but Naruto was something else. He didn't move like a shinobi—he moved like something wilder, unpredictable. His reflexes were unnatural, his body reacting before the attacks even fully formed. It was almost like he knew what was coming.

Haku jumped back, reassessing.

"You're different," they said. "You don't fight like the others."

Naruto didn't answer immediately. He studied Haku the same way a predator studies another in its territory. Not with hostility, not with aggression, but with a detached curiosity.

"You're not trying to kill me," Naruto finally said. "Why?"

Haku hesitated. "Because I don't have to."

Naruto tilted his head. "Then why fight me at all?"

"Because Zabuza-sama ordered it."

Naruto blinked again, as if the answer was strange to him. "You do what you're told?"

"Yes."

"Even if you don't want to?"

Haku paused again. "Yes."

Naruto frowned. "That's stupid."

This time, Haku flinched, barely noticeable, but it was there. A crack in the composure.

"You don't understand," Haku said. "I owe Zabuza-sama everything."

"Why?"

"Because he saved me."

Naruto narrowed his eyes, his grip on his kunai loosening slightly. "Saved you from what?"

Haku hesitated, then suddenly threw a handful of senbon. Naruto moved, dodging without thought, his body twisting unnaturally fast to avoid the deadly needles.

"I don't want to fight you," Haku said, voice quieter now.

"Then don't," Naruto replied easily.

"It's not that simple."

Naruto frowned again. "Why not?"

Haku inhaled deeply. "Because I have a purpose."

Naruto blinked at him. "A purpose?"

Haku nodded. "Yes. Zabuza-sama gave me one. Without him, I'm nothing. If I don't serve him, if I don't protect him, then I have no reason to exist."

Naruto's lips parted slightly, his expression blank.

"You need someone else to tell you why you exist?"

Haku stiffened.

"That's really stupid," Naruto continued. "You're you. You exist because you do. Why do you need someone to tell you that?"

Haku's hands clenched into fists. "You don't understand."

"Yeah, you keep saying that," Naruto mused. "But I think you don't understand."

Haku took a step back, shaken, but quickly recovered. "It doesn't matter. I have to finish this fight."

"You could just not," Naruto offered again.

Haku exhaled sharply. "I have to."

"Why?"

"Because Zabuza-sama—"

"Do you love him?"

Haku faltered. "What?"

"You talk about him like you love him," Naruto said simply. "Is that it? You love him, so you fight for him?"

Haku stared at him, mouth slightly open behind the mask. Then, in a whisper, "I don't know."

Naruto watched him for a moment, then shrugged. "That's sad."

Haku clenched his jaw. "Enough."

Then the air shifted. The mist thickened, and the temperature seemed to drop. Haku's hands moved, seals forming too fast for most to follow.

"I'll end this quickly," they said.

Naruto barely had time to react before the mirrors appeared. A dome of ice, surrounding him completely.

The Demonic Ice Mirrors.

The ice mirrors gleamed with an eerie light, forming a perfect dome around Naruto, trapping him inside. Haku stepped into the reflection, their masked face appearing in every mirror, their body flickering between each surface like a ghost.

"This is my domain," Haku said, voice calm and absolute. "You can't win."

Naruto stood there, staring blankly at his surroundings. Then, he looked down at his hands. He flexed his fingers. His body remained unchanged. No fur, no scales, no talons. But he didn't need any of that.

He closed his eyes for a moment, recalling it. The weight, the solidity, the sheer immovable strength of an Ankylosaurus. Not a predator, but a survivor. A fortress of muscle, hide, and bone.

His body didn't change. But it didn't have to.

Haku moved.

A blur of motion, faster than anything normal eyes could follow. The senbon shot toward Naruto, dozens of them, aimed for his limbs, his vital points, places that would disable him without killing.

They struck—

And bounced off.

Haku's breath hitched.

Naruto opened his eyes. "Oh."

Haku moved again, faster this time. More senbon, more angles, a storm of needles meant to cut down anything in their way.

They all bounced off.

Naruto just stood there, blinking. He looked down at himself. He felt the impacts, the slight pressure, the cool touch of metal before they fell uselessly to the ground.

Haku's form flickered between mirrors, now hesitant.

"…What are you?" they whispered.

Naruto didn't answer. He took a slow step forward, dragging his foot across the ice, not hurried, not bothered in the slightest. He tilted his head. "Why do you keep doing that?"

Haku clenched their fists. "Because I have to!"

Naruto took another step. "Even if it doesn't work?"

Haku threw more senbon. They clattered harmlessly to the ground.

"You're wasting weapons," Naruto observed.

Haku exhaled sharply. "That doesn't matter."

Naruto took another step forward, looking at the ice mirrors. He lifted a hand and pressed his palm against the frozen surface. Cold, solid. But breakable. He knew that instinctively.

Haku saw what he was doing and moved immediately, their speed increasing, appearing behind Naruto in a blur, hand raised—

Naruto didn't turn around.

Instead, he shifted his weight. A simple movement, but backed by the sheer immovable density of a creature that had withstood the assaults of the largest predators of its time.

Haku's strike landed—

And nothing happened.

It was like hitting stone. No, harder than stone.

Haku staggered back, fingers trembling. That had never happened before. Even Zabuza felt it when they struck him, even Kakashi had reacted when their needles hit flesh. But Naruto? He didn't even flinch.

"You're scared now," Naruto stated.

Haku stiffened.

"I can smell it," Naruto continued, staring at them through the mirrors. "Fear."

Haku swallowed. "I… I don't understand."

"Neither do I," Naruto admitted. "But I don't think I need to."

Then he moved.

It wasn't fast. It wasn't elegant. But it didn't need to be.

Naruto lifted his arm—

And swung.

Not a punch, not a strike. Just a simple swing of his arm, the same way an Ankylosaurus would lash out with its massive tail.

The air trembled.

The mirror shattered instantly.

Haku barely leapt away in time, moving to another reflection. But before they could react, Naruto was already moving again. Another swing. Another impact. More ice shattering.

Haku was forced to move, abandoning one mirror after another, their perfect prison crumbling before them.

"That's not possible," they whispered.

Naruto didn't respond. He just kept swinging, step by step, breaking down everything in his path.

Haku realized—Naruto wasn't even aiming. He wasn't thinking about weak spots or strategy. He was just walking, moving, breaking everything in his way like it was inevitable.

And for the first time, Haku felt something strange.

It wasn't fear. Not exactly.

It was helplessness.

Like watching an avalanche come down a mountain. Like watching a storm approach from the sea.

Naruto wasn't attacking them.

He was erasing them.

The last mirror shattered. Haku landed on the ground, breathing heavily, looking up at Naruto, who simply stood there, watching them.

"You lost," Naruto stated.

Haku gritted their teeth. "Not yet."

They moved, hand flashing toward their pouch—

Naruto took another step.

The sheer force of it sent a pulse through the ground, shaking the air itself.

Haku froze.

Naruto didn't even raise a hand.

"You don't have to do this," he said.

Haku exhaled sharply. "I told you. I have to."

Naruto blinked slowly. "That's sad."

Haku clenched their fists. "Then finish it."

Naruto tilted his head. "Why?"

"Because I lost. That's how this works."

Naruto frowned. "I don't think it does."

Haku's hands trembled. "Please… Just do it."

Naruto stared at them.

Then, he shook his head. "No."

Haku's breath hitched.

"Go away," Naruto said simply.

Haku's vision blurred for a moment. "I…"

They couldn't finish.

They turned and ran.

Zabuza was breathing heavily, his massive sword resting against the ground for a moment as he glared at Kakashi through the mist. Blood dripped from a cut on his arm, staining the ground beneath him, but he didn't look bothered.

"You're a stubborn one, Copy Ninja," Zabuza muttered, rolling his shoulders.

Kakashi, his Sharingan eye blazing red, kept his stance firm, kunai in hand. "You're one to talk. Still standing after all that?"

Zabuza chuckled lowly, adjusting his grip on his blade. "You sound impressed."

Kakashi didn't deny it. "Your strength isn't in question. But your situation is looking worse by the second."

Haku landed beside Zabuza, mask slightly cracked, breathing hard. Zabuza barely spared them a glance before scoffing. "You let the brat go, huh?"

Haku lowered their head slightly. "He was… different."

Zabuza exhaled through his nose. "Yeah, no kidding. I saw the way he walked through your mirrors like they were made of paper. What the hell was that?"

Haku didn't have an answer.

Naruto, who had been standing a short distance away, watching everything in complete silence, finally took a step forward. His sapphire eyes glowed even in the thick mist, focused entirely on the two of them.

Zabuza turned his head slightly. "You again."

Naruto blinked. "You're a lot weaker than I thought."

Zabuza's eye twitched. "What?"

"You're strong, but not… that strong."

Zabuza gripped his sword tighter, glaring down at the boy. "Tch. You got guts, brat, I'll give you that."

Haku, who had been silent, spoke softly. "He's… not wrong, Zabuza-sama."

Zabuza clicked his tongue. "Don't remind me."

Naruto tilted his head. "You sound frustrated."

Zabuza grunted. "Of course, I am! I should've killed this Sharingan bastard by now, but no, here I am, standing around talking to a glowing-eyed brat while my body's cut up like a damn practice dummy."

Naruto nodded slowly. "Then why don't you leave?"

Zabuza blinked. "What?"

"You should leave," Naruto repeated, completely serious. "You won't win. If you stay, you'll die."

Zabuza scoffed. "Bold words from a kid who barely fought."

Naruto shrugged. "Doesn't make them wrong."

Kakashi, who had been watching the exchange in silence, finally spoke. "He's got a point, Zabuza. You came here for a job, not a grave."

A light mist clung to the rickety bridge, making the drops of water on Zabuza's Kubikiribōchō gleam like a thousand tiny diamonds. He stood, a formidable silhouette against the grey sky, his gaze fixed on the small figure before him. The boy was an enigma, utterly devoid of the fear or aggression Zabuza was accustomed to. His red hair, the colour of fresh blood, seemed to absorb the dim light, while his sapphire eyes, unnervingly bright, held a disarming, vacant innocence.

"Why do you kill for money?" The boy's voice was soft, devoid of inflection, a simple statement of fact rather than an accusation. "When you could just… live?"

Zabuza scoffed, a gruff sound that echoed across the chasm. "Because that's how the world works, kid. You take what you want, or you starve. And I take money to do it."

"But why take?" the boy persisted, tilting his head slightly, like a curious robin. "Why not just… have? You already have a large sword. You could defend yourself with it. Then no one would bother you."

Zabuza narrowed his eyes. "That's not how it works. People will bother you. And if you don't bother them first, they'll walk all over you."

"But if you don't bother them first," the boy continued, his gaze unwavering, "and they bother you, you can still defend yourself, can't you? With your sword. You don't need to kill them, just… make them go away. Then you still live. And they still live. Why kill when living is an option for everyone?"

Zabuza let out a frustrated grunt. "Because living is a luxury, kid. And some of us earn that luxury. By killing."

"So you kill to live?"

"Exactly!" Zabuza snapped, thinking he'd finally gotten through.

"But if you kill," the boy's voice remained even, "then someone else dies. And they can't live anymore. So for you to live, someone else has to stop living. Why is your living more important than theirs? You could both just… live."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed Haku's face, a slight widening of his eyes. Kakashi, despite his fatigue, straightened imperceptibly, his Sharingan fixed on the unfolding scene.

"It's about strength!" Zabuza roared, feeling a prickle of irritation. "The strong survive! The weak die!"

"But if you are strong enough to kill," the boy said, "aren't you also strong enough to just… not kill? To make them stop bothering you, but still let them live? If you can choose to kill, can't you also choose not to kill? You still get to live then. And so do they."

Zabuza opened his mouth, then closed it. The boy's simple, relentless logic was like a pebble dropped into a vast, still pond, sending ripples through his carefully constructed worldview. He was a demon, a killer, yet this child, with his absurdly bright eyes and straightforward questions, was dismantling him with politeness.

"It's… it's what I do," Zabuza finally managed, his voice rough. "It's my path."

"But you chose that path, didn't you?" The boy's voice was as clear as the morning dew. "You could choose a different one. A path where everyone gets to live. Then you still get to live. And you don't have to worry about people wanting to kill you for killing them."

Zabuza stared at the boy, his mind scrambling for an answer, for a flaw in the unnervingly simple logic. His formidable intellect, honed for battle and strategy, found itself utterly outmaneuvered by pure, unadulterated innocence.

"What… what are you?" Zabuza finally choked out, the question a desperate plea for understanding.

The boy's face remained blank, his sapphire eyes glowing with an almost ethereal light. "I just want to live peacefully without killing or being killed. Dattebane."

Zabuza grit his teeth. "Tch. You make it sound so easy."

Haku lowered their gaze. "It… could be."

Zabuza turned to them. "Haku…"

Haku didn't meet his eyes. "We're losing, Zabuza-sama."

Zabuza was silent for a moment before scoffing again. "Damn it."

Naruto observed him, expression unreadable. "You're not a bad person."

Zabuza barked a laugh. "Oh, kid, I am absolutely a bad person."

Naruto just stared.

Zabuza narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"You don't sound like you believe that."

Zabuza frowned.

Naruto tilted his head again. "You care about Haku."

Zabuza crossed his arms. "So what?"

"Bad people don't care."

Zabuza let out a rough breath, rubbing his face. "Kid, you're giving me a headache."

Naruto just kept watching.

Kakashi, sensing the shift in the fight, sighed. "Zabuza, if you leave now, I won't stop you."

Zabuza turned to him, scowling. "That simple, huh?"

Kakashi nodded. "That simple."

Zabuza exhaled slowly, his grip on his sword loosening. He glanced at Haku, who was waiting silently, and then at Naruto, whose glowing eyes hadn't wavered once.

"Ah, hell," Zabuza muttered.

And then, the sound of slow, deliberate clapping echoed across the bridge.

The bridge was silent.

Not the kind of silence that felt peaceful, not the quiet of a warm evening or the hush of an early morning. This was a silence thick with tension, with exhaustion, with the weight of what had just happened.

Zabuza stood there, shoulders heaving, blade loose in his grip. Kakashi was barely keeping himself upright, his Sharingan eye dull with fatigue. Haku was still, watching with unreadable eyes. Sakura was pale, gripping a kunai like it was the only thing keeping her together. Sasuke was slumped against the ground, unconscious but breathing.

Naruto stood in the center of it all, unmoving.

He hated this.

He hated violence, hated the way the air stank of blood and sweat and death. But if he didn't fight, they would hurt him. They would hurt his team. And Naruto… Naruto didn't like getting hurt.

Gatō stepped forward, a smug grin on his face, flanked by dozens of hired thugs. "Well, well, looks like you're all out of juice," he sneered, kicking Zabuza's sword where it lay against the ground. "Pathetic."

Zabuza barely reacted, his fingers twitching at his sides, but Naruto could see the tension in his body. Haku was still standing, but their hands were trembling. Kakashi's breath was shallow.

Naruto looked at Gatō's men. There were a lot of them. Some armed with swords, some with clubs, others with nothing but cruel smiles and bad intentions.

He didn't think.

He moved.

One second, he was standing in the bloodstained mist. The next, he was tearing through them like a blade through paper.

A velociraptor was very fast.

Shinobi were faster because they could use chakra.

A chakra-enhanced velociraptor?

The first man barely had time to react before Naruto's foot caved in his chest, sending him flying back into three others. The next swung a blade, but Naruto twisted, dodging effortlessly, before his hand crushed the man's throat like it was made of glass. Blood sprayed.

Screaming.

Someone tried to stab him from behind, but Naruto didn't even turn—he just reached back, grabbing the man's wrist, and twisted. There was a sharp crack as the bone snapped clean through, jagged edges tearing through skin. The man shrieked, but Naruto had already moved on.

Another swing, another dodge, another kill.

They didn't even stand a chance.

Limbs twisted in ways they weren't meant to. Bones shattered. Throats were crushed. Naruto didn't use a weapon—he didn't need to. His hands were more than enough. His legs carried him through the battlefield like a ghost, too fast, too unpredictable, too precise. Every movement was efficient, ruthless, terrifyingly smooth.

Blood painted the bridge, slick and dark.

He didn't even notice the applause at first.

He stood there, in the middle of it all, his chest rising and falling in quiet, steady breaths. His clothes were drenched, his hair sticky, his face unreadable beneath the layer of gore. The smell was thick, coppery and warm.

And then he heard it.

Clapping.

Naruto turned his head.

Across the bridge, villagers stood in clusters, their faces a mix of horror and awe. Some had their hands over their mouths. Some looked ready to be sick. But others… others were clapping.

They were cheering.

For him.

Something cold settled in his stomach.

He reached up, swiping at his face, but all it did was smear the blood further. He tasted it on his lips, metallic and wrong. His fingers twitched at his sides.

He felt… nothing.

No satisfaction. No joy. No relief.

Just… nothing.

A single tear slipped down his cheek, cutting a clean path through the blood on his face.

But nobody saw it.

He had become the thing he hated.

A true shinobi.

—ToT—

The aftermath was short.

Zabuza and Haku disappeared into the mist, leaving nothing behind except their footprints and the memory of their presence. Gatō was dead, his body discarded like the filth he had spread across Wave. The country was free. The chains that had bound it had been broken.

And the people—oh, the people were celebrating.

Naruto didn't understand it.

They sang, they cheered, they laughed, they danced. Children ran barefoot through the streets, their little hands clutching whatever scraps of food had been handed to them, their cheeks stretched wide with the kind of smiles only the innocent could manage. Men stood together, raising bottles of sake in the air, drinking to a future that had once seemed impossible. Women clung to each other, wiping tears from their eyes, whispering words of relief as if speaking too loudly would wake them from the dream.

They were celebrating death.

Naruto sat on the outskirts of it all, watching with unreadable eyes.

Gatō had been a terrible man. A man who starved the people of Wave, who crushed them under his heel, who used and discarded lives as if they were nothing. He had deserved to die. That was what everyone said.

But Naruto wondered about the men who had worked for him.

Sure, they were criminals, thugs, murderers. But at the end of the day, didn't they have families too? Didn't they have people who waited for them to come home? Wives? Mothers? Children?

The people of Wave were celebrating, but somewhere, somewhere, there were people crying.

Naruto had seen it before.

When a hunter took down a beast, they celebrated their victory. But the cubs left behind would never understand.

He had seen it again and again.

How different was this?

Naruto didn't know. He didn't want to think about it anymore.

So, he sat there, detached from the joy, watching his team instead.

Kakashi was recovering well, no longer leaning against a crutch, no longer favoring his ribs. Sasuke, too, had healed completely, his wounds gone as if they had never been there. Sakura was smiling, relief on her face, exhaustion finally settling in now that everything was over.

And Naruto… Naruto sat on the steps of a half-built house, knees drawn up, chin resting on them, glowing sapphire eyes scanning the streets.

"Naruto!"

He turned his head.

Inari stood there, grinning, eyes still puffy from all the crying he had done earlier. The kid ran up to him, stopping just a foot away, hesitating only for a moment before bowing. "Thank you!" he said, voice full of sincerity. "Thank you for saving us!"

Naruto blinked.

Then he nodded. "You're welcome."

Inari straightened up, rocking on his heels. "You're kinda weird, you know?"

Naruto just tilted his head. He did know.

The boy laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "But you're cool."

Naruto didn't respond to that.

The village thanked him too, every face that passed, every voice that reached him, every grateful smile. They saw him as a hero.

He didn't know what to do with that.

So, he did nothing.

And then, just like that, Team Seven was leaving.

They stood at the edge of the village, bags packed, weapons secured, mission complete. Kakashi stood in front, a lazy eye crinkled in amusement, while Sakura chattered about how much she couldn't wait to get home and take a real bath. Sasuke remained silent, as usual, but his eyes were sharp, as if he was still turning over every battle in his head, analyzing, calculating, preparing for the next.

Naruto simply adjusted the straps of his bag.

"Oi, Naruto!"

He turned back.

Inari stood there with his mother, Tsunami, at his side, and behind them, the entire village.

"Take care!" Inari called out.

Naruto nodded. "You too."

The people of Wave cheered as they walked away.

And behind them, as the crowd dispersed and the people began discussing what came next, someone brought up the bridge.

They needed a name for it.

Something that would symbolize their struggle.

Something that would represent their victory.

Suggestions were thrown out. Some ridiculous, some grand, some poetic.

Tazuna, however, had already made up his mind.

He took one last look toward the road where Team Seven had disappeared, then smiled.

"The Great Naruto Uzumaki Bridge," he declared.

Years later, this bridge would have entire chapters and even books dedicated to it— being addressed as the bridge that didn’t just connect two lands or flourished a nation's economy— but as the bridge that changed the course of history forever.

And that was that.

TBC

Chapter Text

Chunin Exams

Life in Konoha returned to normal. No killing. No blood. No desperate fights for survival. Just the everyday rhythm of village life—missions, training, and the occasional civilian request that barely counted as work.

Naruto liked this pace.

The absence of battle meant he could do what he enjoyed most—lazing around under the sun, soaking in the warmth like a cat stretched across a rooftop. He had claimed a particularly nice spot in one of Konoha’s quieter areas, a place where the sun hit just right and the breeze wasn’t too strong. There, he sprawled out, arms crossed behind his head, eyes half-lidded as he listened to the distant hum of the village.

Of course, Sasuke had other plans.

“Fight me.”

Naruto yawned, shifting onto his side to find a more comfortable position.

Sasuke’s brow twitched. “Naruto.”

Naruto closed his eyes.

“Fight me.”

Silence.

Sasuke’s eye twitched again.

“I’ll treat you to ramen.”

Naruto’s eyes snapped open.

“...Fine.”

Sasuke smirked in victory.

And that was how Naruto found himself sparring nearly every other day. Sasuke never won, but he kept challenging him, determined to close the gap. Naruto, on the other hand, didn’t really mind. One spar equaled one bowl of ramen, and honestly? That was a good deal. He never held back enough for Sasuke to feel insulted, but he also never tried too hard. It was just an easy exchange—effort for food.

It drove Sasuke insane.

Sakura often watched from the sidelines, arms crossed, switching between cheering for Sasuke and groaning when Naruto dodged effortlessly.

"How are you so good at fighting like that?" she asked one day, after Sasuke had once again ended up flat on his back, breathless and glaring.

"Yeah," Sasuke grumbled, pushing himself up. "It's like fighting some wild animal."

Naruto tilted his head at that, blinking slowly.

"...I manage," he said, shrugging.

Neither of them were satisfied with that answer.

Even Kakashi, who had always been quietly observant, had his suspicions. Naruto’s fighting style wasn’t like anything taught in the Academy. It was unpredictable, fluid, instinct-driven. It wasn’t something learned from human combat training—it was something else entirely.

And there was... another thing.

People started to notice.

Animals liked Naruto.

No, scratch that—animals loved Naruto.

It had started small, with stray cats curling up next to him whenever he dozed off in the sun, or crows swooping down to drop shiny trinkets near him. But then it escalated. Dogs would break free from their owners just to follow him down the street. Squirrels and birds would perch on his shoulders, utterly at ease. Even Inuzuka hounds—trained war animals that barely tolerated strangers—would approach him with wagging tails.

At first, Sasuke and Sakura thought it was funny.

Then, during lunch one day, it got ridiculous.

Sakura had just unwrapped her bento when she froze, her entire body going stiff.

A large, black snake had slithered its way onto the table, flicking its tongue lazily as it coiled near Naruto.

Sasuke went tense, immediately reaching for a kunai.

“Naruto,” Sakura hissed, barely moving. “There’s a snake—”

Naruto picked up a rice ball and, without even looking, held it out.

The snake opened its mouth and took a bite.

Sasuke and Sakura just stared.

Naruto chewed his food idly, patting the snake’s head before nudging the rest of the rice ball toward it.

Sakura made a strangled noise. “Wh—why are you—what—”

"It was hungry," Naruto said simply.

Sasuke watched as the snake, a venomous one, casually wrapped itself around Naruto’s arm, content and relaxed.

"...Are you serious?"

Naruto blinked at him. "What?"

Sasuke inhaled sharply.

“Are you some kind of animal whisperer?” Sakura demanded, still keeping a wary distance from the snake.

Naruto shrugged. “I dunno.”

Sasuke pinched the bridge of his nose.

Kakashi, who had been watching from nearby, wasn’t even surprised.

He had known Naruto forever. He had seen him get along with creatures that would sooner bite a shinobi’s hand off than accept their presence. He had seen the way wild things responded to him, drawn to him like he was one of their own. This? This was nothing new.

But for Sasuke and Sakura, this was an entirely new level of what the hell?

The snake finished eating and slithered off, disappearing into the tall grass. Naruto went back to eating like nothing had happened.

Sakura exhaled. "That was not normal."

Sasuke, begrudgingly, had to agree.

But Naruto just kept eating. Because to him, it was normal.

And that was the end of it.

—ToT—

Fate had other plans.

The Chūnin Exams.

Naruto had heard about them before. A test meant to push genin past their limits, to separate the weak from the strong. It wasn’t just an exam—it was a battlefield disguised as a competition, a way for the villages to show off their future powerhouses while simultaneously weeding out those who couldn’t keep up. Violence was guaranteed. Death wasn’t uncommon.

And now, Kakashi had nominated Team 7 to participate.

Sasuke and Sakura were thrilled.

Naruto? Not so much.

“No.”

The refusal was immediate.

Sasuke and Sakura gawked at him.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Sasuke demanded, narrowing his eyes.

“No,” Naruto repeated, shifting in his sunlit spot. “I’m not doing it.”

Sakura frowned. “But—why? You’re ridiculously strong! You could probably win the whole thing without trying.”

“Don’t want to,” Naruto said simply.

Sasuke scowled. “You’re chickening out?”

Naruto blinked at him. “No. I just don’t feel like it.”

“That’s chickening out,” Sasuke snapped.

Naruto shrugged.

Sakura crossed her arms. “Come on, Naruto. If you become a chūnin, you’ll get better missions, better pay. Don’t you want that?”

Naruto considered it.

Did he want that?

Higher rank meant harder missions. Harder missions meant more fighting. More fighting meant more death.

No, he didn’t want that.

So he repeated himself. “No.”

Sasuke clicked his tongue, obviously frustrated. “I’ll treat you to ramen.”

Naruto yawned, turning over onto his side. “Not worth it.”

That earned a visible flinch from both of them.

“Dattebane,” Sakura muttered under her breath.

It was bizarre, seeing someone so absurdly powerful turn down an opportunity like this. Sasuke had known Naruto was weird, but this was another level.

They tried again, offering different deals—more food, easier missions, even just a promise that they’d stick together. Naruto didn’t budge. He didn’t want to kill anyone, and no amount of ramen could change that.

But then, the Hokage himself called him in.

Hiruzen Sarutobi was old, wise, and patient. He had seen all kinds of shinobi in his time—warriors hungry for power, children desperate for recognition, prodigies who craved challenge. Naruto was none of those things.

So Hiruzen didn’t push. He simply explained.

“If you pass the Chūnin Exams, you’ll be promoted,” he said, folding his hands together. “And if you continue to climb the ranks, you’ll get closer to your goal of becoming Hokage.”

Naruto stared at him.

Becoming Hokage? That was the end goal, wasn’t it? The ultimate proof that he had made it? That he belonged?

But something still felt… wrong.

“How many lives do I need to take to become Hokage?” he asked, voice flat. “Man wild as a whole?”

Silence.

That was the answer, wasn’t it?

Too many.

Naruto’s grip on his sleeves tightened.

He didn’t like violence. He didn’t want to kill. But survival was a different matter. He had lived as something else before, as something ancient and primal, and he knew the law of nature—kill or be killed.

He didn’t want to kill anyone.

But he wouldn’t let anyone kill him, either.

“…Fine.”

Hiruzen nodded.

Naruto turned to leave, but paused at the doorway. “I won’t kill anyone,” he said over his shoulder. “Or anything.”

And with that, he left.

Hiruzen sighed, rubbing his temples.

This was going to be interesting.

—ToT—

Team 7 made their way toward the Shinobi Academy, where the first phase of the Chūnin Exams would be held.