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Chapter Text

Naruto Uzumaki was five years old when he learned of his status as Konoha’s Jinchuuriki. 

It was the 10th of October, his birthday, and he had been left alone in the orphanage without any supervision. He knew the importance of the date; he knew the streets would be filled with festivities to celebrate the third Hokage’s defeat of the Kyuubi. But still selfishly, and foolishly, he imagined that the matrons had left him alone so they could plan a surprise for him. He knew it was a pot dream, the same way he knew that he would be on the receiving end of glares and snarls every time he ventured into the village. 

But he was merely five years old, still cursed with the throes of an imaginative—if not entirely unrealistic—mind. 

And so he hoped.

A few hours into his solitude, he heard muffled shouts and chants of his name from outside the orphanage. He grinned as his heart swelled, his smile brighter than the fireworks he’d seen from the matron’s office, face pressed against the window as he perched precariously on a chair. He rushed to the entrance, flinging the door open, not expecting the sight that met him.

He was accustomed to thinly veiled anger being directed at him, but never before had he witnessed the rage he saw in their gaze. Though there were only a few Konoha shinobi, hitai-ate gleaming on their foreheads, the fury emanating from the group made him feel like the entire village was at the door. Their eyes were squinted in rage, bloodshot and filled with loathing. The tension in the air was palpable, even over the stale scent of liquor. 

When their eyes focused on him, momentarily clearing from the fog of alcohol, he could see the glee in their faces, as though he were a prey that had been found in a carefully laid trap. He was frozen in place, paralyzed with fear, and he didn’t know what he would do as the crowd slowly approached him, but he didn’t have to think about that.

Thunk.

A few shuriken were scattered at their feet, warning them not to step any closer. In a flash, the blond was snatched up in a pair of unfamiliar arms, the world disappearing in a blur as they rushed past homes and shops. Before he could understand what was happening, he was in the Hokage tower, facing Hiruzen Sarutobi, the fourth Hokage. He could barely register the tears in his eyes, almost couldn’t hear the “Thank you, Weasel, you are excused” that the Hokage uttered, and was entirely oblivious to the presence at his side until the Old Man put his hand on his head, ruffling the blonde locks. 

All he could think about was the hate from the villagers. The disdain from the people he was supposed to train to protect. The fury from those who made up his so-called ‘family’.

In that moment, he was so paralyzed that he could do nothing more than turn to Hiruzen and ask, still with tears in his eyelashes, and sadness marring his vision, “Why? Why do they look at me that way?”

And with that barely uttered inquiry, Hiruzen Sarutobi knew it would be no good to keep trying to shelter the news from the boy. Everyone else in the village was aware of his secret, it seemed cruel to continue to keep it from him. 

“Well, how much do you know about the Kyuubi attack?” 

And with that, the Hokage told Naruto the truth. He spoke of how the third Hokage had fought the Masked Man and the remaining form of a withered Madara Uchiha, who had worked with the Kyuubi to destroy the village. He told the tale of Minato’s defeat of the masked man and the seal he used to seal Madara away for good, which required him to give up his own life.

All part of the tale that Naruto had grown up hearing. But finally, he heard the difference in the story that he had previously not been privy to.

“Before he died, he wanted to protect Konoha from the rage of the nine-tailed fox, and because a Bijuu cannot be killed, he was forced to seal it away. But similar to the seal he used on himself, he needed to seal it in a person. If he tried with an adult, he would kill them; an adult’s chakra system is too developed to deal with a sudden intrusion. So he did all he could and instead, sealed the Kyuubi in a newborn child. He sealed it in you”. 

With each word, it seemed to make sense to Naruto. The incessant hatred, the scorn, and the doubt in him before he could even try to prove himself. 

“I’m the Kyuubi?” His voice was strained, more broken than he intended it to sound, but before he could correct it, Jiji put his hand on his shoulder. 

“No, Naruto, you are the Kyuubi container , not the actual fox. You should do well to remember this fact”, his gaze was stern, voice confident in his words. “You weren’t the one who terrorized this village; you were the one who saved it”.

Not wanting to argue, he nodded, one more question on his lips.

“So did the fourth really give up his own life, just to protect the village?”

A small smile tugged at Hiruzen’s lips, and he rubbed the nub of a pipe back and forth between his fingers, straightening up. “Yes, Naruto, he did, because it was his nindō, his shinobi way. He believed in the will of fire, a mentality shared by a lot of Konoha shinobi. The desire to protect one’s family, not just those who are blood related, but all those who reside within these walls. One day, when you graduate from the academy, maybe you too will share this sentiment”.

He was still mulling over these words when he was finally escorted back to the orphanage by the same masked ANBU who brought him to the Hokage Tower, ideas and memories racing through his head. 

No matter what the old man had tried to tell him, in some way, he knew he was a monster. Not one bigger than the mountains surrounding Konoha, with bright orange fur and nine swirling tails, but some lesser form. Why else would the village treat him the way it did?

So when, in little under a year, he was moved out of the orphanage and given his own apartment, it was a stark reminder that he was unwanted, gotten rid of at the first chance. 

A monster.

Not for the first time since that conversation with the Hokage, he thought back to the old man’s wizened words, to the will of fire. Still, the sentiment didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t know what drove him to want to become a shinobi, perhaps defiance towards the villagers, but he knew it wasn’t out of a sense of duty to protect the village. 

That night, he slept restlessly, one question bouncing around his skull.

Why? Why should I become a shinobi?

And he woke the next morning, he still didn’t have the answer to that. 

A recurring theme, it seemed.

🌀🌀🌀

Naruto had taken to spending almost all of his time in the forests behind his apartment. He had also started avoiding the village entirely, now that he knew why they treated him the way they did. The only thing that kept him from starving was the groceries that were dropped off at his door every week, and his only human interaction was from the sporadic visits from the Hokage. He still had two years before he would join the academy, and he wanted to make the most of it. 

He was practicing the leaf chakra control exercise, having been gifted a few books on the basics of chakra by the old man. He had placed the leaf on his forehead and tried to channel chakra to it, hoping to get it to stick. Instead, it flew clean off his head into the foliage above him. Excitedly, he looked at his book, but could only find solutions to what to do if the leaf did nothing at all. 

“Patience is important, especially when younger, as the chakra system isn’t as developed and it may be harder to expend a sufficient amount of chakra.”

After a moment of thought, he was silently pleased. He figured that this meant he had more chakra than was usual at his age, and instead of needing to build his reserves up, he would need to learn to produce a smaller output. So, he kept at it, trying to stop the leaf from flying off his forehead. He followed the advice he’d seen in a different book about chakra control, and tried meditating, closing his eyes and focusing on the inner pull of his chakra. 

It worked, and after a bit over a month of practice, he got the leaf to stick to his forehead, only flying off if he got overexcited or distracted. It was a minor accomplishment, but to a boy who had been laughed at and shunned—a boy who had started doubting his identity as someone, and not something — it was a significant leap in proving to everyone he wouldn’t be the failure they expected. 

So maybe this mentality, this line of thought, made him feel like he was further along the road to chakra control and jutsu than he was. Much further, because a few days later, he was meandering through the forest, and when he stumbled across an injured rabbit, his first thought was to heal it. 

It had always been one of his dreams, before he even knew what a shinobi was, and long after he did, to become a medic-nin. The sentiment still lingered in a sizable portion of his mind, and part of the reason he tried so hard at chakra control was to be just that bit closer to the precision required to be a medic. 

In a different part of his mind he knew that he was so enamoured with the profession because of how the village seemed to tear him down every chance it got. He came to not quite fear the loathing, but to avoid it. Hell, he was in the forest most of the time to prevent the possibility of that hatred being directed towards him. Something about a job centered around healing people, building them back up instead of tearing them down, appealed to him. 

And this foolish notion, this stupid over-confidence that he had blown out of proportion, led him to squat in front of the rabbit. 

One of its back legs was mangled, maybe caught in a trap, maybe the work of a stray kunai. Either way, the animal twitched in pain, barely able to drag itself further than it had already gotten. Now seemingly only capable of staring at Naruto with wide eyes, as though it had already accepted its fate. 

Naruto didn’t know much about how to heal the leg, but naively, he thought just pouring chakra into the wound would help. Foolishly, he raised his hands, one over another, as he had seen medics do as they rushed to injured shinobi stumbling through the gates of Konoha. Stupidly, he funneled chakra into the leg, not too much, but more than he used to get the leaf to stick to his forehead. 

And as he sat back on his heels, watching the rabbit’s leg glow a vivid orange, hoping to fix it, his hope turned to fear as the rabbit opened its mouth and screamed. 

He never knew such a small creature could make that type of sound, but he understood the rabbit’s agitation when he noticed blood trickling out of its floppy ears and dripping down a rapidly twitching nose. He crawled back, fearing whatever he had done to the creature, but he didn’t get far before the shrieks got louder, before its eyes exploded into pieces of gore that splattered the foliage of his feet. The rabbit’s stomach bubbled, and in a few seconds, the creature seemed to erupt.

Suddenly, the forest was silent again, the eerie peace not even interrupted by the hoot of a bird or the twitch of leaves in the breeze.

All that was left was a bloody corpse, its rib cage spread open, the heart that once resided inside indistinguishable from the charred remnants of the other organs. Steam was rising from the gory mass, and the bubbling remains of blood scattered in the low grass, barely seeming to cool down. Looking down, Naruto noticed the blood had also splattered across him, eating into the fabric of his ratty shirt and burning the skin under it. He could feel the burn of stray droplets across his face, not caring that he would be covered in blisters later. He didn’t need to; all his wounds disappeared in a day at the latest. 

When he snapped out of his horrified daze, he could do nothing but claw at the soil, burying the remnants of the animal that had once stared at him with something even vaguely resembling hope. He held back bile as he rose to his feet and ran back to his apartment. Once he returned, he stood under the shower for what felt like hours, too disturbed to even try to take off his clothes. When he got out, he went through the motions of putting on his pajamas, feeling as though he was watching his body move stiffly by its own accord, outside his control. 

When he finally tumbled into his cramped bed, hiding under the covers for a false sense of comfort, he couldn’t seem to forget the image of the animal that he had boiled from the inside out, stupidly thinking he could save it. He stared at his hands, imagining the chakra he had painstakingly channelled into his fingers, pouring into the rabbit. 

When he finally fell into a fitful sleep, he dreamt of beady eyes exploding out of a human skull, bones tearing apart, and hearts imploding in a chest cavity. He could hear shrill shrieks, screams that pierced his ears and slowly morphed into words uttered over and over again. The shouts filtered through his mind, and when he tried to cover his ears, he could see it spelled out in front of his eyes. When he closed his eyes, he could almost hear it from inside himself, moving uninterrupted from his gut to the tips of his fingers.

MONSTER.

…

He couldn’t go back to the forest for weeks after that. 

In those weeks, he dreamed of how easily it could have been a Konoha citizen beneath his fingertips, killed by his foolish notions of aid.

His aspirations of becoming a medic-nin ceased after the first night.

🌀🌀🌀

When he finally managed to pull himself together, the first thing he did was visit the Konoha library. He braved the harsh stares as he walked through the village, not bothering to slip by unnoticed like he usually did due to some twisted idea of justice, as though he needed them to confirm that he was the monster he had also started seeing himself as. Regardless, he was motivated and determined to find out what he had done to the rabbit, hoping it wasn’t unheard of, so it wouldn’t be another barrier, another way he was different from everyone else. 

He pushed open the wooden doors, slipping past the desk and the groggy librarian before the scent of books and dust could even reach his nostrils. His eyes were focused, and his feet even more so, immediately locating and moving to the theory section of the building. He walked through towering shelves until he reached the section of medical jutsu. After glancing at the possibilities, he noticed one high up: Introduction to Medical Jutsu: From Beginner to Advanced.  

He was too short to reach it. At seven years old, he was still similar in stature to a five-year-old, so instead he pulled a chair over, tiptoeing on it to reach the book. It was as he was returning the chair that something caught his attention. 

The book was leatherbound and on the spine in bold letters it read: Fuuinjutsu: A Tutorial , but what actually caught his attention was the name directly under it: Aiko Uzumaki . 

Before he could think about it, he plucked it off the shelf, hurrying to the counter to check the books out. He was so content he barely registered the stern glare of the librarian, or the reluctance in her voice as she muttered, “You have a month to return them”. He barely registered anything until he was back in the forest behind his apartment, but now, deeper in the foilage, attempting to distance himself as much as possible from the remains of the rabbit. 

The thought of the unfortunate animal sobered him up. He would put the fuuinjutsu book aside for now. What mattered at the moment was understanding what he had done wrong, and so with the image of the blood splattered remains of a once pure creature, he dove into the book, anxious to learn.  

🌀🌀🌀

After three days spent mainly in the forest poring over the words, he learned a lot about medical jutsu. 

He was still struggling to understand some of the theory, but he understood that to heal someone, one couldn’t just recklessly pour chakra into a wound and hope for it to resolve itself. He also discovered that healing animals is very different from healing humans, and it requires a complete understanding of their biology. 

From what he got, the main reason his attempt failed was due to the principle of chakra compatibility. Like the immune system with unknown microorganisms, the chakra system wasn’t keen on unknown chakra. Unfamiliar chakra flowing into the body would be treated similarly to a virus, and the body would attempt to push the chakra out. This led to two main ways of performing medical jutsu, at least for physical injuries; he hadn’t gotten into the complexities of other problems.

The first most common way utilized the body’s own regenerative abilities. Chakra accelerates the healing process, so those with more of it tend to heal faster. When a shinobi is injured, the chakra heals the injury but does so slowly, as chakra is spread throughout the body evenly and doesn’t focus on any particular point. So, to manipulate this, a medic-nin would send a controlled amount of chakra to the site that needs healing. Similar to how the body sends immune cells to the site of an infection, chakra is sent to the site of the invading chakra, and in the process, it heals the wound present there. As long as the medic-nin’s chakra is withdrawn accordingly, the method is effective. 

The main fault with it, though, is that it uses the patient’s chakra, and as injured shinobi have typically expended a lot of their chakra in a fight, it’s not plausible in some cases. 

So the second method relied on the principle of chakra compatibility. Essentially, the chakra system can be tricked into not attacking ‘enemy’ chakra as long as the chakra is similar enough. Ideally, a very close relative with the same chakra nature as the patient would be perfect, but otherwise chakra of the same nature and with similar density is sufficient. If done correctly, concentrating it on an injury will heal it without alerting the body’s natural defences. 

According to the book, though, it was rather difficult to do the second technique. One had to be able to sense a patient’s chakra quickly in order to attempt to copy it. They had to manipulate their chakra to match the patient’s own, and while density was relatively easy enough to replicate, influencing one’s chakra to match a different chakra nature was on a different level. It was so difficult that hardly anyone could manipulate it to all five chakra natures, and the only recorded person who could do so was Tsunade Senju, an apparent prodigy in the medical field and one of the legendary Sannin. 

As a result, most medic-nin employed both healing styles, as there were always cases in which they couldn’t use one or the other. 

Despite this influx of knowledge, something else was still at the forefront of Naruto’s mind. 

The book mentioned that if an excess of unknown chakra was poured into the patient, and they didn’t use proper technique, the body would expend a lot of chakra fighting it off. In the best cases, it would cause chakra depletion; in the worst case, it would result in death by chakra depletion. But that was only possible if the medic-nin kept pumping chakra into the patient. He had barely touched the rabbit, barely poured any chakra into it. 

Even if he did, the book mentioned nothing of organs exploding, skin rupturing, and bones fracturing. Even if he did it wrong, the rabbit should have slipped painlessly into the afterlife.

The image kept flashing before his eyes: broken ribs spread open like a worshipper's hands, reaching for a light so far off he couldn’t see it, yet falling so short of its goal. 

Monster . 

The word flickered through his conscience, settling in the space where he thought his heart, if he had one, would be. Yes, that sounded right.

Monster.

This sentiment was only confirmed when, in a last-ditch effort, he approached a cluster of wildflowers, sitting cross-legged in front of the patch. Shakily, he reached his hand out and channelled his chakra into the plants, watching as the petals of all of them immediately fell off, stalks crumbling into dust until all that was left was a memory of the once flourishing vegetation. 

He didn’t know the right word for it, but he knew something was wrong with his chakra. It was poisonous? Corrosive, maybe? He wasn’t sure, but he knew it was a danger, knew it was a risk to even use it, now that he knew of the effects. 

And so with his dreams heavy on his mind, hopes of becoming a medic-nin, even of becoming a shinobi, weighing on his tongue, he steeled his resolve. 

He would give up on learning how to use his chakra. 

He would give up on the shinobi path.

Chapter Text

Time seemed to crawl until, finally, there was one day left until the first day of the school year. Despite all his time spent puzzling over the matter, Naruto still hadn’t found a way to dissuade the Hokage from attending the Academy. He hadn’t even mentioned his reluctance to the old man, not wanting to reveal the qualities of his chakra or the fractured remains of his dream to become a shinobi. Instead, he pretended everything was fine and focused on following his new routine. 

There were habits he still couldn’t break from his old one, despite the promise he made to himself. It was a given that he still spent most of his time in the forest, but instead of practicing chakra control, he climbed trees or waded through shallow streams, watching schools of fish swim in lazy circles around him. Lately, he’d tried befriending some of the animals he came across, trying to convince himself that it wouldn’t end up how it did last time. So far, it seemed the only animal not wary of his approach were the foxes he always seemed to notice lounging in the undergrowth. 

Fitting.

He’d also continued meditating, after swearing over and over that it would lead to nowhere. Promising himself that it was just a part of his routine he couldn’t quite halt. Lately, there was something he noticed when he meditated, when his eyes were closed and his breath steady. It was a wispy sort of feeling: neither in the air around him nor within him, but somewhere in the middle of that. But it was fleeting; he could feel enough to say there was something, but not enough to tell what it was.

The smarter part of his mind told him to ignore it, like he ignored the incessant throb of chakra just under his skin, itching for relief from the confines of mortal flesh. 

But still, a larger part of his brain egged him on, and so far, he was struggling to squash the thought. So instead, he turned his thoughts to the following day, stretching out across the forest floor as possibilities filtered through his mind. He saw flashes of his time at the orphanage—raised voices and pointing fingers; nights spent curled in on himself in a dark, empty room; mornings spent trying to talk to someone, anyone, but being met with silence.

The more he dwelled on the thought, the more he realized it was just as unproductive. He didn’t know which was worse, lingering on the thought of using chakra again, or mulling over the possibilities of what could happen at the Academy. 

The first brought on a feeling of disappointment and hope, which was confusing in itself. The irony of a monster hated by a village wanting to learn how to heal its inhabitants, instead of sinking its claws deeper into their flesh.

Even worse, the second option filled him with a sliver of hope, not just disdain. It had been years since he’d interacted with someone his age, or really, with anyone other than the Hokage. It had been long since he’d been burned by hatred, and with the smoke finally clearing from his memories, all that remained were dreams of acceptance. He wished on every star in the night sky, on every bird call that rang through the trees, and on the four-leaf clover he found after hours of scouring the forest floor, that the next day would be different. Would be better. 

When he went to bed that night, much later than usual after nervously fussing over all the plants in his apartment in an attempt to quell his nerves, he prayed again as he slowly slipped out of consciousness. The words weren’t intended towards a deity or a person, but almost to the space around him: the crisp air, the plants on his windowsill, and the trees standing guard outside his window. 

Please let tomorrow be different.

And when he woke and noticed he wasn’t plagued by the lingering thoughts of a nightmare, for the first time in weeks, he grinned. Perhaps the prayer had worked.

Still, he was a mess of nerves as he flitted around the kitchen, scarfing down a cup of instant ramen and chugging an obscene amount of water. He showered quickly and brushed his teeth before skimming through his closet for a decent outfit. Usually, he just wore a pair of shorts and a random T-shirt. He never had to focus on what he put on, as his only audience were animals and—very rarely—the Hokage. 

After debating for a bit, he put on the only pair of pants he had, once black but faded to grey and frayed at the ends, and a white t-shirt with a red swirl on the back that had seen better days. Before he could overthink it, he pulled on a black zip-up jacket, hoping the hood would help him slip through the village unnoticed.

When he checked the clock and noticed he had fifteen minutes until eight, he quickly glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He double checked his nails weren’t too long, weren’t twisted into claws; that the wispy hairs that had started growing on his arms wasn’t dense orange fur; that his pupils were still circles, not slits; that the tilt of his lips didn’t scream monster.

He wasn’t quite satisfied with what he saw in the reflection, but he forced the thoughts out of his mind. Pulling his hood on, he bolted out of his apartment, moving before he could psych himself out. 

It had been years since he had freely walked through those streets, yet it seemed the same as it always did. Stores just opened or in the process of opening, merchants setting up their carts, crowds of groggy parents and overexcited children. 

It was terrifying to be greeted with such normality, evidence that Konoha would carry on with or without him. Yet it was also comforting in a twisted sense: proof that whatever contributions he might have made as either a medic-nin or a field shinobi weren’t needed. All his efforts would’ve barely, if at all, made a difference in the social fabric.

It was truly a testament to how long it had been since he’d stepped on those streets when he noticed that eyes seemed to pass over him, regarding him as they would any other citizen. He even caught a few dazed nods, half-hearted smiles. Granted, his hood was up, obscuring most of his tell-tale golden hair, but still, they didn’t recognize his slightly hunched frame, his darting eyes. Perhaps he had grown more than he noticed. Whenever he did bother to take in his appearance, he focused on whether or not he could pass as human, not on whether he’d been getting taller or his shoulders broader.

Deep in his thoughts, he almost forgot to be nervous; the worry flooded back to him as he noticed the looming Academy walls. There had once been a time when he looked upon them with glee in his eyes and determination in his heart, proclaiming to a matron who wasn’t listening to him, “Once I graduate from there, I’ll be the best shinobi this village has ever seen! Believe it!”. But that time seemed so distant, so out of his reach, remaining hidden behind the ever-present worries of what would happen if he used his chakra again. 

Heart thumping, he followed behind a crowd of older students as they walked into the building, hoping to blend in. He walked with them until he saw the class marked for first-year students. The door was wide open, and when he entered, it was quiet, filled with a few pairs of people whispering amongst each other, grins plastered on their faces. 

He sat in the back corner of the classroom, beside one of the two open windows, and reluctantly pulled down his hood, assuming he wouldn’t be allowed to wear it in class. The voices increased in volume as the room started to fill up, tones eager and cheerful, but he couldn’t bring himself to look up from his fidgeting fingers. 

“Yo! We’re matching!”

Naruto was startled out of his thoughts. For the first time since entering the classroom, he looked up to meet another’s unbridled gaze. The boy had just slid into the chair beside him, a grin stretched across his face. Despite the summer heat, he wore a grey hoodie with black fur lining the hood. There were red triangular marks on his face, shaggy brown hair fell into his eyes, and, oddly enough, what looked to be a small white animal perched on his head.

He must have looked confused, because the kid pointed between them, signalling their similar jackets and pants. “See, we’re basically wearing the same thing, just different colours”.

Surprised, Naruto shot him a small smile, and managed to huff out, “Huh, I guess we are”. Unable to hold himself back—apparently he hadn’t developed any self-restraint in isolation—he asked, “Is that a dog on your head?”

The boy let out a small chuckle, nodding carefully so as not to jolt the creature, “Yeah! I’m part of the Inuzuka clan, the name’s Kiba by the way, and we have a close relationship with dogs 'cause they became part of our clan technique. This is Akamaru”, the animal in question let out a yip as if acknowledging the words. He leapt off Kiba’s head onto the shared desk and trotted over to the blond, sniffing his outstretched hand before settling into his lap.

“Whoa, it seems he really likes you. Usually it takes longer for him to be that comfortable with strangers”. They sat in silence for a bit, as Naruto stroked Akamaru’s fur softly, maintaining his breathing while he convinced himself nothing would happen by just holding the creature. But soon Kiba filled the air again; it seemed he didn’t like silence. “Say, what’s your name?”

“Naruto”, he stated, and after a squint from Kiba and a silent prompt for more, he tried it again, “Uzumaki Naruto”, the name leaving a sour taste in his mouth and bitter memories in his mind.

“Uzumaki Naruto ”, Kiba said, trying the words out on his tongue. “Why do I feel like I’ve heard that name before?”

The boy in question just shrugged in response, and before Kiba could question it further, a man entered the classroom, heading towards the chalkboard and writing his name in bold letters. When he finished, he turned around, revealing a scar across his nose bridge and a kind smile.

“Good morning, class. My name is Umino Iruka, but you can call me Iruka-sensei, and I will be your teacher for the year”. The class was now completely silent, hanging on to every word. “Most of today will just be an overview of what we’ll be learning this year, and a rough idea of the routine, but first I need to take attendance. Please put up your hand when you hear your name”. 

If Naruto wasn’t occupied with petting Akamaru and responding to his enthusiastic nudges and tail wagging, he would’ve sunk into himself. Instead, with the silky fur as something to ground him, he surveyed his classroom, wishing he had kept his hood up when he saw a different student with sunglasses on and a hood pulled over his hair. When Iruka-sensei called his name, “Aburame Shino”, he was surprised when he didn’t tell him to take off his hood or the sunglasses, instead just nodding and continuing with the list. But by now he felt like it was too late to put his hood back on, so he could do nothing but glide his fingers through the dog’s porcelain fur, evading his lapping tongue. 

When he heard his name, he hesitantly put up one of his hands and was met with a low whine from Akamaru at the loss of contact. He hoped that he imagined the minor squint in the teacher’s gaze, the tension in his shoulders, and how his eyes seemed to linger on his face longer than they did on any other students. At least, he hoped no one else in the class would notice the reaction. 

When he moved onto the next name, Naruto let out the breath he’d been holding, and steadied his breathing until he could focus on the next words. Iruka-sensei went over what they would do that year, the workload ranging from history lessons to physical exercise to chakra control. During the lecture, he realized Kiba couldn’t be idle for long when he noticed that many of Iruka’s points were punctuated by his whispers.

“My sister mentioned something like this”.

“She said that one’s harder than it sounds”.

It didn’t annoy the blond; instead, it warmed the space in his chest where his heart might be, thawing the loneliness he usually kept bundled up there. Each time Kiba opened his mouth, he paid attention to each word, grateful for being acknowledged. Maybe it was Akamaru still bundled in his lap, or the effects of the first voice other than the Hokage he’d heard directed towards him in years, but by the end of the second hour, he found himself properly responding. 

“Did she tell you anything about that one?” 

“Oh, I read about that one in a book”.

Perhaps it was a trivial conversation, but it was so much more than Naruto had been accustomed to, even before he was moved out of the orphanage. 

When Iruka finally announced a 45-minute lunch break before their first introductory history lesson, Akamaru jumped back onto the table and carefully lifted himself onto Kiba’s bowed head. The boy sent him a grin before pulling a bento out of his back, then grabbing his forearm and excitedly dragging him to the courtyard.

They walked over to a tree with a low-hanging swing, and Kiba settled at the base of the tree while Naruto tried his luck on the swing, rocking back and forth slowly. 

“I remember my sister saying she and her friends used to spend their breaks here”, the boy explained as he opened his bento. He glanced at the blonde, noticing he didn’t have anything with him, “You didn’t bring food?”

After a hesitant shake of his head, the brunet lifted the tin to him and grinned, “We can share mine!” When he saw the conflict in the blond’s eyes, he nudged it even closer, “Go ahead, my mom made way too many riceballs anyway”. 

The two ate quietly, only interrupted by yips from Akamaru. Naruto felt overwhelmed with contentment, feeling the usual pain in his chest elevated, replaced with a tingling feeling that spread from the chest to his fingertips. He didn’t know what to do as the feeling swarmed through him, so before it could burst out of his skin, he opened his mouth, a question that had been plaguing his mind for years finding its way out. 

“What’s it like having siblings?”

He hoped it wasn’t awkward to say, and was relieved when Kiba didn’t look offended, “Oh, you’re an only child?” A firm nod. “Well, I only have Hana, and she’s like six years older than me, but it’s really helpful sometimes. Like, I wasn’t that worried about joining the Academy, ‘cause she always told me so much about her time here. Other times it’s really annoying, ‘specially ‘cause she’s older and she feels like she can do whatever she wants, like I remember this one time she came back from a mission and…”

Throughout the lunch break, he was regaled with tales of Hana Inuzuka, given perspectives of the shinobi life from the lens of a chunin’s younger brother. It was interesting to learn about a path he’d promised to stray from, or at least he tried to convince himself it was. Realistically, he knew that what truly piqued his interest were the descriptions of arguments between the two siblings, or the tales of the few times they actually agreed on something. 

He could almost imagine it could have been him in Kiba’s shoes. If his parents hadn’t died and left him alone to fend for himself, who knows what would’ve happened. Or even when they did die, if he weren’t turning more into a monster with each passing day, perhaps he would have fit in at the orphanage. Perhaps he would’ve found a friend close enough to be considered a sibling. In a different life, maybe he would have seen a family in the village, regarded it as a home and not just the place he resided in, as he’s sure the old man had wished.

When he felt a lick on his hand, he noticed Akamaru had found his way over to him, pawing at his legs until he scooped him onto his lap. Kiba noticed, stopping the story mid-way and squinting. 

“It’s actually surprising how quickly he liked you”, he mused. “Oh my bad, I was probably boring you with all the stories, huh?” His face reddened, and his hand scratched at his neck. 

“No way! I loved hearing them, I’ve always wondered what it would be like if I ever had a brother or a sister”.  

“Maybe you can come over to the Inuzuka compound one day and meet Hana? Hell, you can even steal her from me, lately it’s like her only goal is annoying me. Leaving my door wide open, stealing the treats I got especially for Akamaru...”

The tingling feeling he’d felt before exploded, and he could only nod excitedly to the invitation. When Kiba smiled in response, he noticed two of his teeth were pointed into fangs, much in the way he imagines his own were when the matron used to flinch away at his attempt of a smile. Odd. The same quality he checked for in the mirror to prove he wasn’t a monster looked so human on Kiba.

“Yo, I think that’s Iruka-sensei over there”, and sure enough, the man in question was standing at the entrance of the building, waving them over to signal the end of their lunch break. 

Akamaru leapt off his lap and settled in the nest of his owner's brown locks, and Naruto reluctantly stood up, offering a hand to Kiba. When he was met with a warm hand and an even warmer smile, he tried not to focus on the feeling of the boy’s hand, but mentally he categorized it as the first time someone his age had ever touched him. 

As they hurried back to class, Naruto caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of one of the windows on the first floor. His hair was mussed, his back straight, and his mouth curled up in a smile, mirth glinting at the corners. 

He couldn’t help but notice that his eyes shone with something akin to humanity. 

Maybe he was getting better at fitting in, hiding amongst humans and adapting the same way a wolf would don sheep’s wool.

Or maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as monstrous as he thought he was.

🌀🌀🌀

The rest of the class was a blur of explanations, tail wags, and comments from Kiba. Before he knew it, kids were packing up their bags and saying goodbyes, racing out into the courtyard to meet placid parents. Kiba was looking out the window, eyes searching for his family, but after a moment, he sat back in a huff.

“Of course, Mom’s late. She’s probably still off somewhere with Kuromaru. Aaand she made me promise I wouldn't walk home by myself today”, he complained. Akamaru whined in response. “Are your parents here yet? You don’t have to wait with me, y’know, it might be a while”. 

Naruto froze, eyes darting around nervously. “I’m, uh, walking home by myself”, he finally stuttered out. 

Kiba wasn’t the best at picking things up, but even he could hear the sadness in the blond’s tone, the implications of that statement. “Sorry, I didn’t realize”, he said, startled. “If you aren’t doing anything, maybe you can come over for dinner today? Hana might be home by now, if you wanna meet her”. 

Before he could respond, Kiba noticed something outside the window, jolting out of his seat, “No way, she’s actually kinda on time! Yo, Hana came too, c’mon!” He dragged Naruto out of the classroom, only letting go when they reached the bottom of the stairwell. 

For all the grumbling and complaining Kiba did about his sister, it was obvious to Naruto that he was excited to see her, to tell her about his first day. Maybe a bit too overexcited because when they reached the front door and noticed it wasn’t propped open anymore, he slammed it open, banging the flimsy red wood against the brick on the other side.

Eyes immediately latched on to the two boys, searching for the source of the noise. All the students looked away immediately, the most reaction being a stifled giggle or a roll of the eyes. Even some parents looked away, more focused on their child’s rambling than on two random boys.

But enough eyes remained on them, on him, to make him uncomfortable. He stiffly tried to continue walking beside Kiba, but soon enough, he was met with gasps, whispers gaining traction and getting louder until it felt as though everyone was staring at him. 

“That’s him, isn’t it?”

“It’s been so long since anyone’s seen him”.

“Yeah, I thought he’d left the village or something”.

“Or that he’d died somewhere”. 

He sank deeper and deeper into himself, shoulders hunched over. Twitching, he lifted his hood over his head, but it was too late. Even the students could tell something had happened, glancing over to the pair in confusion.

“...Naruto? What’s going on?” Kiba whispered to him in a hiss, surprised by the reaction to him.

He could barely think, but he knew he couldn’t say anything to Kiba, his first-ever friend. So instead, like a cornered animal, he chose to flee. 

“Y’know, I just remembered I have something to do, sorry but I can’t come over today”. And with that, he rushed off the Academy grounds, not stopping even as he passed his apartment until he collapsed somewhere deep in the forest.

It had been so long since he’d dealt with ostracisation from anyone. His time spent in the forest made him forget what it felt like to be around people, much less how it felt to be the center of their attention. 

He cursed his stupidity, forgetting to put his hood back up. But he also knew it was a matter of time. He definitely couldn’t have hidden from Kiba’s mother or sister. For all he knew, they would’ve reacted the same way.

As he evened out his laboured breathing, he tried not to think about Kiba's perspective of the event. But even as he forced his breath in and out, his mind could only focus on how the next day would be. 

At the thought, the space left vacant for his heart clenched.

Chapter Text

Immediately, he could tell that something had changed. 

When he walked into class the next day, the voices he’d heard on his way down the corridor halted momentarily, awkwardly continuing as if to mask the slip-up. He sat down in the same seat as the day before, and after looking out the corner of his eyes, he realized that the chair beside him and all adjacent desks were vacant. With a cursory glance, he noticed Kiba wasn’t there yet, but the blond and pink-haired pair that had sat in front of him the day prior were on the opposite side of the classroom, determinedly avoiding his gaze.

Sighing, he tugged his hood up a little higher, sinking into his chair further. Their reaction was enough evidence to prove that he’d been foolish to pray for change. 

As Iruka called a greeting from the front of the room, a low, “Hey” came from his side. 

Head jerking to his left, he noticed Kiba at the desk beside him, a subdued smile on his face. He wasn’t seated at the same desk as him, as he had the day before, but still, he was the only one willing to sit that close to him. He nodded in response to him, offering a forced smile in return. It warmed his heart to see that Kiba wasn’t entirely repulsed by him, but in the same breath, he was pained by the wall between the two. 

Shaking off the feeling, he tried to focus on Iruka’s words but barely heard them. His mind wandered through the possibilities of what Kiba had heard about him; he wondered how much of it was truth and how much was rumour. Caught in his thoughts, he felt a nudge at his calf and looked down to see a pink tongue lapping at his legs, eyes still as bright as the day before. He lifted Akamaru into his lap, petting his head in gratitude: at least he didn’t act any different. 

Akamaru’s little yips reminded him of his owner’s presence, and when he turned to the boy in question, he noticed he was fiddling with his fingers, as though holding himself back. Throughout the lesson, Kiba didn’t regale him with anecdotes or comments; instead, the silence between the two built up louder and louder until he couldn’t hear the low whines from Akamaru. 

It had been so long since he’d felt this disappointment, this bitter sting of rejection. He was fine with being ignored or being mistreated; he could even understand the reason for it. But he hated the rejection: the dangle of a promise right under his nose, just to be swiftly revoked when his fingers inched towards it. It was reminiscent of his youth, of his treatment before he even knew why he was being scorned. It brought back memories of the night he learned of his role as a host, when he was forced to accept the knowledge he was as much a monster as the one sealed within him. 

The thought of their stares, whispers, and baseless opinions—both from the orphans of his past and the classmates of his present—lit a fire in him he’d been trying to squash. He could feel his chakra getting agitated under his skin, responding to his despair. Eyes widening, he attempted to reel it in, but it had been so long since he had tried to use the unruly chakra, and it wouldn’t respond to his meagre attempts at control. 

At first, Akamaru had let out low whines, nudging his hands which were frozen in concentration. In and out, in and out. He tried to steady his breathing, to get his chakra to cooperate, but his efforts were in vain. If anything, the chakra seemed to bubble more, like a pot of boiling water threatening to spill over. Akamaru tensed up, his quiet prods morphing into loud barks that rang through the classroom. Iruka startled at the sound, stopping mid-sentence as the class turned to the source of the commotion. 

If he couldn’t rein himself in before, he found it infinitely harder to do so with the weight of so many eyes on him. Once the first tremors of whispers reached his ears, it was the last straw. Immediately, Akamaru leapt off his lap, tail between his legs as he rushed to Kiba’s side, growling low in the back of his throat. He felt a surge of chakra emanating from him, and he tried not to think of what might have happened if Akamaru had been just a second later. His chakra, or perhaps his agitated hands, pushed his desk away from him, and he bolted out of his seat. 

Even with his mind clouded by fear, he understood he had to leave the room immediately. All his nightmares, of villagers exploding beneath his fingertips as they were exposed to the effect of his chakra, flashed before his eyes. By the time Kiba’s fanged expression popped up in his mind, blood dripping out of his kind eyes into a smiling mouth, he was already rushing out of the door, despite the gasps and calls from Iruka-sensei. 

It was a parallel to the day before, dashing through the village with nothing but fear to guide his feet. This time, he didn’t pass his apartment building, instead sprinting up the weathered steps, almost breaking his door in his haste to open it. He could only collapse in the middle of his living room, twitching as chakra seemed to seep out of every open pore on his skin, filling his small apartment with the oppressive orange matter. 

By the time he managed to calm down, mouth dry and eyes watery, the Academy had long since closed and the sun had almost slipped under the horizon, not eager to witness his weakness. Groggily pulling himself to his feet, he had just enough energy to drag himself to his room, kicking off his sandals and falling onto his bed unceremoniously. Just as he was about to close his eyes and slip away from his never-ending worries about what he’d done, what his classmates—what Kiba—would think about him, he noticed something just at the edge of his vision. 

All the plants that had previously crowded his room, shrouding it in an imitation of the forest just outside his window, had withered until all that remained were small mounds of ash, blending into the soil beneath them. 

He didn’t go back to the Academy after that. 

🌀🌀🌀

Naruto had learned a lot in the three days it took for the Hokage to visit his door. When his chakra finally subsided that day, after hours of battling for control, he noticed something, the thing that had been plaguing him during his meditative sessions. 

When he calmed down that day and his chakra finally withdrew into his body, he realized that the feeling of his chakra seeping out of his skin wasn’t new to him. It was the same feeling that constantly plagued him while he was meditating, but on a much smaller scale. He guessed his body was too small to contain all his chakra, so some constantly leaked out of his skin. Thankfully, it seemed the chakra wasn’t enough to affect those around him negatively, as the plants in his room had flourished before his outburst. 

But it was jarring to realize that he could almost ‘feel’ with his chakra. 

Before he got up the next morning, with his eyes just opening, he had one seemingly random thought at the forefront of his mind. 

The plant in the bathroom is overturned . 

And sure enough, soil covered the bathroom tiles, shards of the pot that had once sat on his windowsill scattered across the ground. He couldn’t explain precisely how he knew it, but he did know that it was a result of his wandering chakra. Before his outburst, he wasn’t aware of the chakra leaking out of him, but once he was, if he concentrated hard enough, he could feel things around him. 

Usually, it wasn’t as clear as knowing about an overturned plant—he only felt that because so much chakra had been pouring out of him. Though, despite the significantly smaller output, it was enough to feel the presence of living things, especially if they were relatively big. After days spent in the forest, he could feel the foxes in the undergrowth if he concentrated hard enough, and he thought he might’ve felt the presence of the plants around him, but it was difficult to tell with how many adorned the forest floor. He couldn’t sense anything as small as a bug; he doubted he could even feel something as small as a bunny, but he wasn’t eager to test that theory. 

He’d also concluded that he couldn’t stop using his chakra if he hoped to protect those around him from its poisonous effects. Evidently, it could flare up with his emotions, so he would have to learn chakra control after all, if only to rein it in properly. But he knew he couldn’t continue going to the Academy. The stares and whispers only made him nervous, and he couldn’t risk another situation. So instead, he thought of how to get out of it, mulling over it until he had a script prepared for the Hokage when he heard the telltale knock on his door that weekend. 

“Hi, Jiji”, he smiled bashfully, opening the door and closing it behind Hiruzen once he stepped over the threshold.

“Good evening”, the old man greeted, pipe unlit between his fingers: a sign of a serious conversation. “Your instructor at the Academy tells me you haven’t attended class since Tuesday?”

Naruto looked away, not prepared for the old man’s bluntness. “No, I haven’t”, he agreed, cheeks flushing. 

“Why are you skipping class, Naruto?” He sighed, looking worn out; perhaps it had been a long day. Perhaps he was using the last of his strength to talk some sense into ’wayward orphan’. “You know that it’s the first step to becoming a shinobi, you can’t just skip it”.

“I know Jiji”, he was nervous, the words threatening either to slip out of his mouth or to be swallowed back down his throat. “But I can’t go back there, it’s only holding me back”. 

“Holding you back?” The Hokage parroted, voice twisted with confusion and disbelief.

Naruto had gone over this scene multiple times while traipsing through the forest, or in the silent moments as he was about to fall asleep. He could only channel the childlike hope he had once held, letting the excitement bubble into his voice as he reached into one of the shelves in his rundown kitchen. The act wasn’t hard to put on, making him think it had been under the surface of his skin this whole time, suppressed in tandem with his chakra.

“I learned so much from all those books you gave me, Jiji. I already knew some of the history Iruka-sensei was teaching, and some of the other stuff he mentioned we’d learn this year! I’ve even started with chakra control, look!” 

He used his chakra to make the leaf stick to his forehead, just as he had been practicing all week. Using his chakra with someone present turned his stomach, sending pangs of fear through him, but it was a small price to pay if he wanted to avoid using it in a classroom ever again. 

“See! The Academy is so boring, but if I can just continue studying here, I’ll be the best shinobi ever in no time!”

The Hokage smiled, crouching and ruffling the blond’s hair. “I’m impressed, Naruto”, the boy grinned, feeling the first dregs of freedom creep up his spine. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you skip the Academy”.

It was as though the door to his cage had been slammed closed, and he started scrambling, fear making his lips loose as he pictured sitting in that classroom again, eyes staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and disgust, like a specimen under a microscope. He pictured Kiba’s muted face, as if struggling to even sit close to him, and his mouth opened of its own accord.

“But why? I promise I’ll study every day, and I can even update you on my progress! I’ll prove to you that I can do it by myself!”

“And I’m sure you can. But it isn’t good for you to be here all by yourself with nothing but books to keep you company”. 

“But I have my plants too! And I have you! You visit me like every week!”

“It’s every month, at best”, he remarked, almost sounding sad. “And it’s simply not enough for a young boy. I don’t have enough time with my duties as Hokage to make my visits more frequent, and it can’t be good for a child to grow up isolated”. 

He wanted to say that he never felt more lonely than when in the presence of others, singled out by a sad twist of fate, a coincidence that left him bearing and becoming a demon. He didn’t want to think of Kiba’s kindness; he pushed the tingling feeling he felt that day out of his mind. He had already broken his promise not to use his chakra, and now he could only hope to keep his new one to learn to rein it in. He couldn’t allow himself to threaten a life like Kiba’s. 

“But it’s enough for me! I’ve done it all these years, why should it matter now?”

The Hokage’s eyes were definitely sad now. Silence hung in the air between them, and Hiruzen took the time to light his pipe, inhaling a deep puff. “You shouldn’t have had to grow up like that, and I wanted the Academy to be the place where you could finally learn that”.

There was irony in the fact that it had helped him crave solitude once again.

The silence stretched on until the Hokage filled it again. “Does your reluctance to return have anything to do with how you stormed out of class on Tuesday?”

Naruto hadn’t thought that the Hokage would hear about that so he froze for a moment before deciding to deviate from his script and tell a version of the truth. 

“Jiji, I felt so angry . I know they don’t know that I’m the Kyuubi container, but they know there’s something odd about me. They won’t talk to me, they won’t sit beside me, they look at me like a monster ”. With each word, the Hokage’s gaze grew softer, fingers twitching at his side in guilt. “I was scared that I was feeling the Kyuubi’s rage, so I couldn’t just sit there anymore. I didn’t want to hurt them”.

The words slipped through his lips like honey, slick with truth to disguise the lies hidden in them. 

“I don’t ever want to feel like that again, so that’s why I want to study on my own. I might not be able to convince them now, but I’ll keep working hard until I become the best shinobi ever, until everyone can accept me, until I know that I’m more than the Kyuubi container! Believe it!”

Hiruzen put out his pipe, smoothing his hand over his head. Guilt tugged at his heartstrings, caution bloomed in his eyes, and trust lifted his hand and rested it on the blond’s shoulder.

“Naruto, I hope you know that you are so much more than the vessel for the nine-tailed fox, but if this will truly help you realize that, then I will consider it”. 

A grin bloomed on Naruto’s face, and he threw his arms around the Hokage’s legs, “Thank you so much, Jiji! I promise I won’t disappoint you”. 

Hiruzen was surprised at the embrace, limbs stiff to the unfamiliar warmth. “I haven’t even agreed yet,” but his words were so fond that they both knew he had already decided. 

🌀🌀🌀

He soon discovered that the Hokage’s deal didn’t come without consequences. After a few meetings with the old man, they had come up with a sort of agreement. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but it was much better than attending the Academy. 

He would receive a learning outline a the resources he needed for the first year. He would be expected to learn information at the same rate or faster than the Academy, and he would be required to take the same tests the Academy students were taking. And though it was rare to receive it, he would be expected to do any homework or classwork as well. 

The Hokage also promised to give him a few more texts to supplement his learning or catch his interest, hoping to find an area he could specialize in since he didn’t have the guidance of a clan. At the very least, it would be something to ease his boredom. 

Annoyingly, he would have to do his own shopping from now on, no longer living off the supplies dropped off periodically at his door. He never knew if it was the work of the Hokage’s ANBU, or perhaps a D-rank mission for new genin teams, and he only wished he could’ve developed his sensing skills to a point where he could’ve answered that question for himself. 

“You can’t lock yourself in the apartment forever. Growing children require some form of human contact”, the Hokage had argued when he opposed the idea of going into town by himself. 

He forced himself not to argue against the notion, reminding himself that a few minutes spent in the town were preferable to hours spent in a classroom of judgmental stares. If anything, it was a decent motivator to learn the henge. 

But that was the extent of most of his rules. He still had a great deal of freedom and planned to use it accordingly. Ever since he acknowledged his leaking chakra, he had continued meditating, focusing on the chakra circulating throughout his body and the chakra dispersed in the air around him. 

After his outburst that day, he had become so much more proficient at feeling for his chakra, and a few days spent meditating in the forest helped him understand why his chakra always seemed so aggressive under his skin, and perhaps why it took him so long to learn how to balance a leaf on his forehead.

There were two types of chakra within him. One of them was heavy, the orange one that had escaped his body that day, also the one that was constantly seeping into the air around him. The other was less dense, swirling closer to his heart, but ultimately being pushed and pulled by the heavier chakra around it. He hadn’t seen it, but in the way he felt the Kyuubi’s was orange, even before he had seen it, his chakra felt cool, as though it was blue. 

He could guess that the orange chakra was from the Kyuubi, and the blue chakra was his own. He knew from the medical book, from his knowledge of chakra compatibility, that the presence of multiple chakras in his body was throwing him off. 

He didn’t want to hope, but he wondered if perhaps the reason his chakra had killed that animal, had lashed out the other day, was because it actually wasn’t his own. But he knew it was no use declaring his chakra to be the ‘safe’ one; he couldn’t easily wield it, couldn’t label it as compliant. He didn’t have anyone to serve as a guide, and after hours spent searching the library, he couldn’t find any similar case, but he concluded that it was almost impossible to wield the two chakras separately.

The leaf exercise likely only worked because it needed such a small output, and perhaps because it was on his forehead. The less dense chakra would have no problem rising, so he’d probably only used his blue chakra to accomplish that. But anything requiring more chakra or a different output source would prove too difficult. He shuddered thinking about how he could possibly perform a substitution jutsu. Even if one chakra type could accomplish the task, it would be challenging to keep the other at bay, and the presence of the two would throw the jutsu. 

But by now, he was determined. He thought of the rabbit he had killed as a result his recklessness, a senseless life taken; of the countless flowers and plants that had wilted under his touch, returning to the dust they were supposedly once fashioned from; of the classroom that could’ve been scattered with corpses, shallow husks of life, if he hadn’t rushed out in time. 

So he didn’t care how many weeks, months, or years it took. He would do it. He would find a way to wield them in unison, and thus a way to suppress them alike. 

He wondered if this was his purpose, the goal that kept him spearheading forward. Was he training so he wouldn’t become a weapon of his creation? So he wouldn’t turn his gangly limbs and pointed teeth and curved talons against the village? The thought didn’t fill him with any great sense of satisfaction, but for now, it was enough. 

So for weeks, he spent every waking moment that wasn’t allocated to studying for the Academy in the forest, trying to devise a way to wield the two chakras as one. He would practice in open meadows, ensuring there was no sign of life around him while testing his theories. His discovery of using the orange chakra to ‘feel’ the area around him greatly helped with that, and he learned that if he increased the output, very slightly, any lingering creatures would scatter.

Still, the task seemed impossible. 

So it was to his surprise that the answer came to him not while meditating amongst the foliage, but on one of those days that he couldn’t sleep. He had already checked over all the plants in his house, small seedlings and propagated leaves replacing the vegetation he had destroyed during his outburst. So he retired to his bed, battling the thoughts filling his head as he tried to slip into sleep.  

His eyes drifted around his room once he admitted his efforts were futile, and soon they settled on the stack of books on his dresser. There were a few new additions: history texts, scrolls on chakra control, and random books the Hokage had dropped off to feed his thirst for knowledge. But at the bottom of the pile were the first additions to his stash: the books on medical jutsu and fuuinjutsu. 

He still hadn’t read the latter, almost frightened to explore any possible link to his clan, so he kept it instead. The former only served as a reminder of the career he couldn’t pursue, packed into neat words designed to shatter his ambitions. He had gone back to the library to renew both of the books, but he couldn’t bring himself to open a page of either.

But now looking at the two, something seemed to click in his mind. Jolting up, he rushed over to grab the book on medical jutsu, almost forgetting to put on his shoes as he sprinted out of his apartment in his haste, still clad in pajamas. It didn’t matter that it was still dark: he had become much better at sensing objects with his chakra, consciously sending out pulses of chakra and using the returning pulse to detect objects, similar to how whales used echolocation. 

He didn’t go too deep into the forest, for fear of being unable to find his way back in the dark. He plopped down onto the ground, feeling out the weight of the book in his hands. It was too dark to read the words; the dense trees obscured the sliver of light from the moon, but he knew enough that he didn’t need to consult the text. It was more there to be a comfort, a representation of the idea that had festered in his mind, as though it had been lingering in the far corners of his conscience and had just decided to make its presence known. 

He knew he wouldn’t get it the first time, but still, he closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, focusing on his chakra until he could feel the divide between his and the Kyuubi’s. He remembered the words from the book: changing the density of one’s chakra is typically easier than altering its nature.

So when he concentrated and pictured his blue chakra collapsing onto itself, the Kyuubi chakra squeezing it tighter, and felt the slightest difference in its density, he grinned.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he sat there, attempting to coax his blue chakra smaller and smaller, until it would stop ‘floating’ above the orange chakra, and instead flow with it. Before he could even register that he was asleep, he jerked up, startled out of his slumber. 

Blinking, he noticed that the sun was shining in through the gaps between the trees: it must have been midday with how bright it was. He could hear birds passing above him, their calls echoing through the trees; and the swish of running water, almost growing louder with every passing second.

But that wasn’t what woke him up. 

There it was, a small rabbit nuzzling against his leg, nose twitching and grey hair tickling his calf. For once, seeing the creature didn’t sadden him, though it did bring up memories of the last one he had touched. But more so, it reminded him of what he was fighting for. He still wasn’t sure if it was solid enough to call this new motivation his shinobi way; he didn’t even know if he could keep the same determination if another tragedy occurred while in the process of learning to control his chakra, but he knew he had to try. 

So with soft grey fur under his eager hands, he hardened his resolve. Before long, he was on his feet, closing his eyes as he tried manipulating his chakra once again. 

Chapter Text

By the time Naruto had managed to manipulate his chakra’s density to match the Kyuubi’s, his first year at the Academy had come to a close. 

It had been a difficult endeavour: hours at a time spent doing nothing but sitting idle, concentrating on locating his chakra and compressing it, denser and denser until it no longer floated above the orange chakra. Even after a year’s worth of practice, it took at least a minute of concentration to get it right, but each time he tried it, it became just that much easier.

He was proud, much prouder than when he accomplished the leaf exercise, but he didn’t let it cloud his judgment. He knew there was no time to celebrate; he had to move on to the next step. 

After borrowing more books on medical jutsu, he learned that chakra nature was the unconscious flow of one’s chakra, and it matched one of the five elements. Chakra of water nature flowed over itself like the tides of the ocean; fire flickered akin to flames; earth was slow and stagnant, crumbling like freshly turned earth; wind was restless, moving in vivid swoops and swirls; and lightning was like static, the agitation before a lightning strike.

At first, it was difficult to sense the difference between the different chakra natures, but after a few weeks spent observing genin teams and newly minted chunin, he could discern between the natures easily enough. He knew that his blue chakra had a wind affinity, and thus didn’t mix well with his orange chakra, which seemed to have a fire affinity. Though, it felt different from that of the Uchiha he had observed. He wasn’t sure how to describe it, but it felt more solid? Instead of scorching flames, it was like the still-hot embers, a fire that had burned and passed, now wizened to the flames it had once borne. 

However, no amount of observation or knowledge of the theory helped when putting it into actual practice. To achieve a stable flow, he’d have to force his wind chakra to a halt, and then force it to flicker and dance with the burning heat of a match. It would take time, likely much longer than a year, but he had come too far to turn back. 

Any thoughts of giving up were quickly squashed by the memories of his last few ventures into the village. All of his visits were clouded by whispers and stares, punctuated with pointed fingers and harsh gazes. He was often overcharged, forced to leave behind half of his goods as he hadn’t brought enough to cover everything. 

The first time he had tried to buy clothes, as most of his clothes were stained with grass or mud, he’d practically been forced to leave without buying anything. When he had approached the counter with a few dark t-shirts tucked under his arm, the shopkeeper scolded him, dissuading him from buying anything of value. Instead, he had been given the only option to purchase a few orange shirts at the back of the shop, which nobody else was willing to buy. So, he continued wearing the same stained clothes, too worried about drawing more attention to himself with such bright colours to care about the state of his clothes. 

So in the hopes of one day learning the henge, he resolved to continue meditating, prodding at his chakra and learning what made it jump and swirl, like a lithe dancer under his command. But if the density required focus, altering the nature required infinitely more, and was much more tedious. 

Despite the freedom of summer, his days were full of practice and concentration that garnered little to no results. This made him restless, eager for even the slightest respite from his routine. It was this restlessness that led him back to where he started: staring across his room at the pile of books on his dresser. 

His fingers were still stained from the warm dirt of the meadow he had sat in, and his clothes still covered in grass stains. So with reverence, he showered, making sure to get all the grime out from under his nails, all the dust from his hair, and all the worry from his shaking hands. And when he was dry, dressed in a fresh set of clothes, he settled in his bed, holding the fuuinjutsu book in his hands as though it were gold. 

It was his last lifeline to a clan he knew nothing about, to a name he didn’t realize he shared until he was seven, to a life that perhaps at one point had been just in reach of his outstretched hands. 

So, with all the caution he could muster, he opened the first pages of Fuuinjutsu: A Tutorial by Aiko Uzumaki, and began to read.

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To be quite frank, it was disappointing.

For all it advertised itself to be a tutorial, it was little more than an overview. A dig into the topic that went far enough to satiate surface-level curiosity, but not far enough to answer anything meaningful.

Yes, he admitted, he learned a lot. He learned of the practical uses of fuuinjutsu, of situations he had never even imagined were possible to use seals in, and of the different ways seals were written and activated. But it never taught him how to do it, how to create a storage container with a few flicks of a brush, or how to form a paralysis trap from messy ink. 

He tried to stamp down his frustration, still wary of feeling anything too deeply after his last encounter with overwhelming emotions. Still, disappointment bubbled up in him, but after a few moments of meditation, he was relieved to notice his chakra hadn’t reacted to it. Thus, he felt justified when he let out a groan and sank into his pillow, flipping to the last page of the book.

Despite the allure of the page and the image of a seal before him, he felt he should ignore the subheading that proclaimed, “Funnel chakra into the seal”. It was the first thing even remotely close to a practical application that the book held, but given that it was on the last page, he felt obliged to close it and call it quits.

But maybe it was the last dregs of hope for a clan he knew next to nothing about that led him to reluctantly lift his hand and pour chakra into the ink. He was careful and measured; it spoke volumes of all the practice he’d done when he managed not to overload the seal, pouring in just enough to make it glow. 

As the runes got brighter, a smaller book appeared on top of the page, similar to how weapons were drawn out of a storage seal. Sitting up, he set aside the first book, picking up the smaller, worn-down manual bereft of a title. It hummed with wind chakra, the pushes and pulls reminiscent of the light breeze after a summer rain, rather than that of raging storms. He wondered what the seal had been, as it had been able to hide the pulses of chakra in its depths. 

Not wanting to be too eager lest he face disappointment once again, he cautiously opened the first page, expecting more answers to questions he hadn’t asked. Instead, he was met with looping handwritten words and hastily structured sentences, unlike the industrial print of the first book. He had to squint to make out the scratched words, running his finger along with the sentences as he read.

Fuuinjutsu is an art passed down through generations of the Uzumaki clan, and it should be taught through words and lessons, not learned from the pages of a book. If I didn’t feel our clan and our secrets were under threat, I wouldn’t even be writing this. I can only hope that nobody will ever have to read this; maybe I’ll burn it at the war’s end. But if that is not the case, I hope this book falls into the hands of an Uzumaki wishing to learn our clan secrets and continue our legacy. 

Despite my hope that this would not be necessary, I placed a seal that should only release this book if it detects Uzumaki chakra. It is still highly experimental, and I haven’t had the time to test it properly, but it should theoretically work. 

And so, against all odds, if you are an Uzumaki incapable of learning the trade directly from one of our own, welcome to the world of fuuinjutsu.

Naruto vibrated with so much energy that he was worried his chakra would fill the room, so he raced out of his apartment, not stopping until he reached the meadow he usually practiced in. He collapsed in a heap, flicking open the first chapter as a stray fox slunk out of the foliage, curling up beside him. They had become more daring due to how much time he spent in the forest, and they were the only creatures that were attracted, rather than repelled, when he increased the output of his chakra. 

He took in the first few pages of the text, forcing himself to slow down and savour each word, each connection to a life he could’ve lived. 

I will divulge the hidden Uzumaki secret, the one that has been guarded for generations and generations, and is hopefully still guarded as you read these words:

There is no secret technique. No secret words or golden rule that will lead you to write seals capable of overturning the heavens, and crack codes of layered complexities. The secret that led to the attack on Uzushiogakure does not exist.

The real ‘secret’ of the Uzumaki clan’s fuuinjutsu is that you must find it yourself. You must experiment and try and fail until you can develop your own style of fuuinjutsu. The art is not rigid; it’s not set in stone like the deepest seeds of our nation, no, it is a fluid path, as wild and free as our chakra. The only limit to your progress is your own imagination, your own reason. And I, not as your teacher, but more as your guide, steering you not down the ‘right’ path but towards the general direction, shall teach you how to unlock your fullest potential. 

And the best way to do this is with an art tried and tested throughout the course of history, proven time and time again to be efficient. 

So I give my first task to you, whoever you may be. 

Observation.  

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The day was still young, the sun barely creeping over the horizon, and Itachi was already regretting listening to his brother. 

It was always hard to say no to Sasuke, but it was even harder when summer unlocked a new peak of the boy’s boredom, and he’d taken to pestering him at every chance. Still, it warmed his heart to see the passion evident in his younger brother; his dedication to the shinobi path shining through in every story he recounted of his days at the Academy, in every moment he begged Itachi to help him with his shurikenjutsu. 

But today was slightly different. 

With all his free time without classes, he had taken to shadowing his elder brother, and by extension, Shisui. One day, he’d witnessed a spar between the two and had been awed to notice that neither of the two had needed to use hand signs to perform the fireball jutsu. Itachi tried to explain that it would be easier to do the older he got, the more he actually used the jutsu in a practical setting and not in training, but the words had flown far over Sasuke’s head. 

It was heart-warming, albeit a little sad, that he tried so hard to emulate him, determined to learn everything Itachi knew, and so much more. Determined to be seen, perhaps by the village, but mainly by their father, as the stronger of the two. So his guilt and love for Sasuke led him to this moment, standing opposite his brother as Shisui slumped against a tree a little ways away, eyes struggling to stay open. 

He’d tried to convince the Shisui that he didn’t need to join them; the summer season had led to a considerable drop in missions, and Shisui had reverted to his old habits of oversleeping. But this time, he insisted, making him swear to wake him up so he could “Watch the better Uchiha brother beat the shit out of Itachi”. Though, he didn’t seem to be watching very intently, his eyes fogged over with the film of sleep. 

“Do it again!” Came Sasuke’s voice, jolting his focus back to the boy. He complied, blowing out another fireball without the aid of the accompanying hand seals. He had learned how to do that a few years ago, when he finally realized the true purpose of hand seals. 

They existed to mould chakra into the form the user wanted to produce, without needing to focus on moulding the chakra manually. It was especially helpful for elemental jutsu that didn’t match the user’s chakra nature, as not even he had learned to change his chakra nature at will. But for a simple fire technique, it wasn’t necessary. His chakra was already inclined to fire, so he only needed to focus on expelling it from his mouth without burning his tongue. 

Alas, his brother didn’t know this and instead lauded him as the prodigy everyone saw him as, oblivious to how easy the technique was. He probably could have told Sasuke this trick, but he knew from experience that it was better to figure things out by oneself; it would help him in the long run more than if he presented solutions to everything on a gilded plate. He knew his brother would appreciate it in the future, but it was evident that he didn’t appreciate it now. Sasuke scowled, blowing out air as he attempted the technique, but there was no evidence of his efforts.  

“I told you it would take time to do it, you don’t have to rush yourself”, he tried, placating. 

“And how old were you when you achieved it?”

He didn’t want to mention that he was nine at the time, the same age as Sasuke was now, so he decided to change the subject. 

“How about we try something different? Instead of this, how about we work on improving your speed when you cast it? One day you’ll be able to do it without the signs, but for now you can at least be faster at casting them”. He could see that Sasuke wanted to argue, but when he noticed the genuine kindness in his gaze, he nodded shyly, realizing it wasn’t out of pity. 

“I’m sure Shisui has great tips on how to do that”, Itachi grinned, pulling out a shuriken from a pouch at his side and throwing it just a fraction away from the once-groggy jonin. Immediately, he sat up, plastering a grin on his face. 

“Of course I do!” Shisui leapt up, throwing a dirty look to Itachi before rounding on Sasuke, crouching in front of him and poking the boy’s side. He pulled him into a mock fight, ruffling his hair and tickling his neck until the lingering disappointment faded from his gaze. 

It was as the two were getting up, brushing off the dirt from their trousers as they called a truce, that he heard it. A faint rustle in the trees, too loud to be a bird, halted too quickly to be anything other than a person trying at stealth. He narrowed his eyes at the trees around them, squinting until he could make out where the foliage was just a little too dark, the shadows of a person blending into the surroundings. He was on guard, hand on the kunai at his side, until he saw the flash of golden hair, so distinctive that it could only belong to one person in Konoha.

Vigilance morphed to confusion as he turned to Shisui, only to find him staring back already, his expression mirrored perfectly. After a second, he gave a discrete shrug, turning back to Sasuke and running through the hand signs, first slowly, then gradually picking up speed.

He wondered what the Uzumaki was doing. After years of not hearing or seeing him, he’d heard a firsthand recount from Sasuke of the blonde who had stormed out of class on the second day of school, never to return. Then he had started to see him sometimes in the village, hood pulled over his head as he rushed through the streets, not because he was eager to purchase anything, but because he fled after every transaction. 

It was strange, much too strange for a boy the same age as his brother, and he couldn’t help being a little concerned, perhaps imagining Sasuke in his place. He thanked whatever forces there were out there that his brother never had to grow up alone, never had to be ostracised from a village he had rightful claim to. But in the same breath, he wondered why the weight had to fall to the Uzumaki, why he had been chosen to bear the burden of a demon and the judgment as though he were one. 

Again, he was jolted out of his thoughts when he was tackled by a giggling Sasuke, loud and proclaiming as he boasted, “Look at how fast I can do it now!”

“Whoa, no credit to your teacher?” Shisui pouted, crossing his arms. 

Sasuke huffed, rolling his eyes as he tugged on Itachi’s sleeve. He stepped back a bit and ran through the hand seals, a little jerkily as though his fingers weren’t yet accustomed to the subtle changes between each sign, but much faster than before, his fireball just as strong as it usually was.

Itachi smiled, poking his forehead with two fingers, “I’m proud of you, Sasuke”.

“And you too, Shisui! Thanks so much for teaching my perfect baby brother how to be a kickass shinobi! Why, no problem, Itachi! Anytime”.

Itachi prodded Shisui’s forehead, putting much more force behind the action, “Language, idiot”. 

And when Sasuke’s giggles subsided, Shisui challenged him to see who could do it faster, trying to think of a prize for the winner. Leaving them to squabble, he focused on the trees again, not seeing any signs of human life. He even activated his Sharingan, sending a cursory glance around him and noticing the absence of the blond. 

He still remembered the day he’d seen the Uzumaki on the other end of hostile glares, and had been forced to rush him to the Hokage tower. He remembered listening as the Hokage broke the news to the boy, and remembered hearing the anguish in the blond’s voice. 

And now he wondered what the boy had been doing, mulling over possible ideas until Shisui managed to drag him into their little competition. He never mentioned his presence after that, instead deciding if he should go slower so as not to discourage Sasuke, or run through the seals at his usual pace so that he could wipe the smug grin off Shisui’s face.

He resolved to living in the moment, watching the struggle in his brother’s face and the mirth in Shisui’s. Soon enough, the concern for the blond faded into the depths of his mind. Perhaps it would never be brought to the forefront again. 

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Snake. Ram. Monkey. Boar. Horse. Tiger.

Naruto kept replaying the scene, duplicating the hand seals over and over as he raced back to his apartment. He was elated at the task, a difference from his regular routine. As much as he hated sitting still, he was forced to do so often, either sitting at his desk cramming for the monthly Academy tests, or remaining still cross-legged in the forest, concentrating on the chakra flowing within him. Now he finally had an excuse to be mobile, observing the two jonins and the dark-haired boy as they trained. 

In his haste to pursue fuuinjutsu, most of his worries faded away, and he was able to venture into the village without considering the judgment. He thought he had locked eyes with the ponytailed Uchiha when he had watched the younger one do the fireball jutsu, but he couldn’t bring himself to mull over the interaction. 

When he settled in his usual clearing, he withdrew the book from the pocket of his jacket, spreading it out on the grass in front of him. The first page of instruction laid out five basic seals, each labelled with the element it was related to. The only other writing on the page was a heading, a simple “What do you notice?” 

The introduction hadn’t lied: Aiko Uzumaki definitely wasn’t going to spell anything out for him; instead, she alluded to tasks that would help him understand for himself. But he could work with it, just as he had figured out how to change his chakra density by trial and error, so would he learn this art.

So far, he’d only gotten the chance to observe the three Uchihas; it was too early in the morning for anybody else to be training as the summer offered a rare respite to the structured shinobi routine. So with the limited knowledge he had gathered, he turned his attention to the fire seal, fingers tracing the rough strokes. 

The seal was simple, each word spelled out clearly, unlike the jumble of the storage seals he was used to using. There, side by side, linked not quite as cursive, but as words forced into a confined space, read the kanji for boar, horse, and tiger. 

Immediately, he noticed the match: it was the same as the fireball jutsu hand signs, just missing the first three characters. It proved that there was a correlation between hand signs and seals, but he wondered why it wasn’t a perfect match. And as it usually did, his curiosity led him to do something stupid.

Before he knew it, he was settled back in the meadow, the only difference being a sheen of sweat from racing back to his apartment, and the presence of a few scrolls and ink. 

He tried to copy it; it seemed simple enough, but his hands were shaky, and the characters blended into each other. He didn’t have much practice with writing, besides the few tests he’d taken before summer began, so as he struggled, he made a mental note to practice his calligraphy. He was determined to progress with fuuinjutsu, almost more than he was with chakra control. 

The first attempt at copying the seal was illegible at best, words overlapping each other, blots of ink dotting the page. Recklessly, he tried activating the seal, pouring chakra into the words and jumping back as it exploded in his face. He was lucky, getting away with only a pair of singed eyebrows and soot on his clothes, but now he was wary, worried about what would happen the next time if he wasn’t so lucky. 

So it took him four more tries until the seal he made matched the one in the book. It wasn’t perfect, the ink was still splotchy, and his characters were a little wobbly, but he knew from the first book that seals held some leniency. It should still work as long as the characters were the same, and it wasn’t messed up horribly.  

Sitting back and admiring his work, he placed a finger on the paper, leaning backwards in case it caused another explosion. He was slightly worried about pouring chakra into the seal; maybe the first explosion wasn’t because of his writing. Perhaps the effects of his poisonous chakra transcended the plane of the living and applied to this measured art. He knew fuuinjutsu was delicate; an extra line could be the difference between a paper bomb and a storage scroll, so it wasn’t a far stretch to think the Kyuubi chakra would throw it off. 

So, with bated breath, he sent chakra into the seal, pushing all of it in at once and leaping back. To his surprise, it didn’t explode in front of his eyes; instead, in place of the paper was a small fire, orange flames flickering. 

Not knowing how long the fire would burn, he immediately started to write down the differences between the fire and the fireball jutsu. One main one was obviously the point of origin; this one burned freely without the worry of burning one’s esophagus; it also wasn’t a directed stream of flames, burning naturally rather than at a measured angle. 

He noted all of the points that jumped out in his mind on one of the extra scrolls, in the form of a diagram that pointed out similarities and differences. Before his brush had stilled on the paper, he’d already resolved to make another visit to the village. He needed to stop by a stationery store and the library. He wanted a book that detailed the meaning of hand signs, why some allowed people to breathe fire, and others allowed them to transform their appearance. 

He was elated, joy overshadowing the disdain of venturing into the village. He didn’t have complete mastery over his chakra yet, but pouring out chakra was simple. The seal had proven that his chakra reacted well with fuuinjutsu, opening up a realm of possibilities he could pursue without worrying about endangering someone. To say it was a relief was an understatement; he was only an inch away from bouncing around the forest, and yelling at the top of his lungs. Maybe he’d even go into the village today, it was still early and he felt as though he’d finally awoken from a year’s slumber. 

First, though, he needed to find a way to extinguish the fire.

Chapter Text

It was jarring, staring into a mirror and not seeing the reflection that had haunted him for twelve years. 

There was no trace of his whiskered cheeks, fanged teeth, or signature blond hair. There was no hint of the monster that lurked just beneath his flesh, to the demon that had once bubbled out onto his skin. Instead, he saw a man much taller than he was, one with a mass of red hair cascading down his back, and green eyes that twinkled with pride. He saw a smile that didn’t resemble the baring of teeth, saw a face that hadn’t been ostracised. 

If he knew the euphoria that would come with finally perfecting the henge, perhaps he would’ve dedicated twice as much time to practice. Maybe he would’ve spent every waking moment in the forest, practicing until he collapsed from exhaustion just to wake up and do it all over again. 

But he hadn’t known, so he had begun divvying up his time between studying, researching the Uzumaki clan, and practicing fuuinjutsu. In the end, it took him just under three years to master his chakra control, thus, three years until he could perform an actual jutsu. 

Now, he only had a few weeks until the end of his fourth year at the Academy, and in the weeks before, he had been so worried he wouldn’t meet the deadline. He’d already planned to either not show up or pretend to fail each attempt during the test, so he’d be forced to retake the year and keep retaking it until he could control his chakra, but it seems he didn’t need to do that. 

He could still remember the rush he felt as he formed the seals for a jutsu that had been out of his grasp for the better part of four years. His fingers transitioned through each hand sign with ease, doing the motions he had practiced almost every night before he went to bed, but this time was different. This time, he could actually pour chakra into the technique. 

Dog, boar, ram.

And there he was, a new person. 

He still needed to learn the clone jutsu and the substitution jutsu, but he knew it wouldn’t be difficult. After a few months of practice, he’d been able to still his chakra, halting the unconscious flow of both the wind and the fire nature. Then, after two additional years, he’d made all of his chakra move as one, flickering and burning like the flame from a campfire. Now, his chakra bucked under his control, rising at a mere thought as though eager to perform the jutsus it had once been denied. 

It was so gratifying to see the years spent meditating and concentrating culminating in the ease he now used to perform the jutsu he’d been dreaming of, without any hitch. 

But it left him with a different dilemma. 

He’d already finished the fuuinjutsu book. It took two years and countless sleepless nights, but he had progressed in the art. He had a solid base down and was confident he would continue to build from there. The book had mentioned that the only limit was his imagination, so he would never truly be done with learning fuuinjutsu. However, now he knew enough that everything else was within his grasp, given enough time and dedication.  

He’d developed his own style by learning the meaning of the different hand seals and symbols used in fuuinjutsu, then building from there. He started seals by declaring the element, using the katakana symbol to label the chakra nature it corresponded with. He’d leave it blank if it didn’t require a specific element.

Next, he’d place symbols and characters that acted as directions. It took a lot of experimentation to figure out which symbols did what, but the book was full of examples that he could compare and contrast, learning the nuances between the different characters. The placement of a ram seal could be the difference between a controlled stream of flames and an open burning fire, as he’d learned from his first lesson. 

After that, he would write the seals for the restrictions, the words that would almost say, “only do this if” or “don’t do this until ”. It allowed him to play around with time-controlled seals, or seals that only activated when specific chakra was funnelled into them. This made it so he never had to worry about his work being turned against him or being triggered by accident. 

But that wasn’t to say it was easy work. Figuring out time-specific seals took two months of constant headaches, experimentation, and a lot more burns than he had expected. The book gave him no hint how to place a timer on a seal, and he knew of no jutsu that could tell the time, so in the end, he had done something unconventional, or at least he assumed it was, as he had no one to compare his journey with. 

After drawing the initial seal, he’d written the characters for a storage seal; it was something he was surprised to realize was possible: creating a seal within a seal. Then he’d add an extra character that created a sort of funnel in the seal, allowing his chakra to travel from the storage seal to the first seal. It took many tests and much more math than he’d been accustomed to, but he managed to calculate roughly how much of his chakra escaped every few seconds. So then he’d place another restriction on the seal, only activating the primary seal when the storage seal was empty. Then it was a matter of putting the proper amount of chakra into the storage seal, and when it was empty, that chakra would activate the first seal.

There were so many situations like that when he would use his exorbitant amount of chakra, and to be honest, the time that was supposed to be spent meditating, to devise such solutions. Like how he’d used the signs for the henge to create a seal that he could layer over a finished seal and make it look like a simple storage seal or explosive tag, which he’d done after learning how protective the Uzumaki clan had been of their art.

No matter what it was, it was always a matter of trial and error, of testing and testing until his patience and chakra reserves were so shot he’d collapse on the forest floor, and be unable to move until the sun, or the nudges of a fox, forced him out of his rest. 

Despite being proud of his progress, he was devastated when he finished the book. It felt as though he’d lost a family member, even though after learning the history of the Uzumaki clan, he was certain he had lost Aiko Uzumaki long ago. The words, even just the most basic instructions, felt less like words between a mentor and a student, and more like the gentle prodding of an aunt. And when he was blessed with rambles crammed in the margins, ideas for projects, or jotted calculations, he felt special, able to see scraps of personality of the one who had changed him. 

He tried to ignore the traitorous whispers that they could be the words of the one who had birthed him.

Regardless, that wasn’t his dilemma; it was just one of the thoughts that crossed his mind every time his eyes fell on the well-worn spine and the ink-stained paper.  

His true dilemma was that he knew how to control his chakra, to keep it in check, and protect the animals in the forest and the plants in his apartment from himself. He knew how to draw seals, and though he would perpetually be learning, it was more spontaneous now, without the guidance of an ‘instructor’. 

So what was left for him to do now?

Chakra control gave him the autonomy he had craved. Seals gave him a passion to explore. The forest gave him a refuge. But what was the great drive that pushed him to try his best at the graduation ceremony in a few months? What was the ideal that made him dream about receiving his hitai-ate? What was the road that, though perhaps winding, led him to choose the way of the shinobi?

Though four years had passed, the question still left him stumped. 

He knew he would take the shinobi path. He had only ever studied to follow it, and he had no hope for a career elsewhere. The stipend from the Hokage would eventually run dry, and he didn’t think that Ichiraku—one of the few stands that didn’t turn him away, or treat him any differently—was in need of additional staff.

So he was stuck with the profession, but wasn’t blessed with the motivation for it. He didn’t have a reason to train every day to protect a village that he didn’t particularly like. Some dark voice, admittedly louder than he would have liked, reminded him that he didn’t know if he had the motivation to train to protect himself . If he were ever sent out and his life was in danger, what was stopping him from accepting the solace of death? There wasn’t much connecting him to the living, so why avoid a different fate?

He didn’t know what would happen to the Kyuubi if he died, but if he wasn’t there to witness it, did it really matter?

A different voice supplied a memory of Kiba grinning at him that first day, of Ayame insisting on giving him another bowl for free because she noticed his eye bags from another sleepless night, and he couldn’t seem to push the images away. 

Maybe inspiration would strike before the school year ended. Some great motive would hit him or a situation would arise, and it would change his perspective forever. Maybe he’d learn to find a love for Konoha in the months leading up to the final exam. 

Maybe, for once, his daydreams would match his harrowing reality. 

🌀🌀🌀

Umino Iruka liked to think that he didn’t have any favourite students. No matter what, he treated all the kids he taught equally, supporting those who needed support and supplementing the students ahead in certain areas. He always made sure he was fair, as he never wanted any of them to think of themselves as lesser than others. 

That being said, he had to admit his heart twisted whenever he interacted with the one student who didn’t even attend any of his classes. 

Maybe it was their similarities that made him feel a connection with Naruto Uzumaki; however, his loneliness in his younger years had pushed him to act out, desperate for attention, while Naruto’s drove him to withdraw into himself, becoming physically smaller as though he didn’t even want to be seen. 

Admittedly, he had been a bit wary of him on the first day. He’d heard no word of the boy for a few years, then suddenly he saw him on the attendance sheet at the start of the year. But after a few hours of watching him on that first day, it had been clear he was just a boy, as curious about the world as any other eight-year-old was. Sure, he had a look in his eyes, as though he had been forced to mature a little too early, but it was to be expected from a child who had lost everything on the very day he’d been born. 

So it had been heartwrenching to come in on the second day and hear the whispers of his students, to see the pointed fingers and uneasy glances being directed at a child who had been so excited to be there. He noticed him sitting in the corner, more hunched over and with his hood pulled over his face, blond hair barely peaking out of his hoodie. 

But, wishfully, he had hoped it would blow over. He knew calling attention to it would make it more tangible and more likely to incite further whispers, so he did his best to make the lesson interactive, calling attention to himself to force it away from Naruto. But when he heard barking from the Inuzuka clan dog, and looked over to see panic in the blond’s eyes and the sheen of orange chakra on his skin, he knew it hadn’t worked. 

He half-heartedly called after the boy as he ran out, knowing he would need space to calm down. The best he could do was rein in his class, make a note to inform the Hokage, and try to pretend everything was normal. But he didn’t return to class the next day. Or the day after that. Instead, after a few days, he received a letter from the Hokage informing him that Naruto would be self-studying, only coming to the Academy after the school day had ended if there were any tests for him to take, or any assignments to pick up or drop off. 

It seemed he had greatly underestimated just how much space the boy would need. 

At first, he had argued with the Hokage, stressing the importance of human interaction for a growing child. He’d seen firsthand how the boy had seemed to blossom when Kiba had talked to him, hanging on to every word like it was law. But he also remembered how he’d wilted under the attention from everyone else in the class, so in the end, he didn’t put up as much of a fight as he could have. 

And he’d been pleased to see the boy’s progress.

He completed all the coursework to a high level, often going beyond what the assignment asked for. He never knew if the boy was interested in the topics or just didn’t have examples to follow or peers to compare with. Perhaps he even thought he was doing the bare minimum. He also did well on tests, not as well as on any of the research papers, but well enough to land him in the top half of his year. He had a wide spread of knowledge, constantly referencing high-level concepts in specific topics. Iruka was convinced he was studying many other things outside of school. 

So, when the day of the graduation exams came, he was proud to finally see all of that work being put to use.

Naruto was the last kid to go, having been told to come towards the end, so he wouldn’t have to wait in the classroom as everyone else did. Admittedly, he had never seen the boy perform any sort of jutsu, or even use chakra, outside of the outburst on the first day, so he’d been pleased to see a perfect replication of himself when he’d asked to see an example of the henge.

“Good”, he praised as he made a note that he successfully performed the jutsu. “Now use the substitution jutsu to swap places with that chair over there”, and with a puff of smoke, the two had switched places, leaving Naruto on the other side of the room, still looking nervous despite his success. 

He held back a smile, and as he jotted another note on his slip of paper, giving him full points, Mizuki called out, “And the clone jutsu?”

There was a strain in his voice, as though daring Naruto to complete it while hoping he would fail. He could tell that Naruto heard it too, because when he looked up, he noticed him stepping back a bit as though he’d been cornered. Still, he raised his hands and formed the hand sign, and another Naruto popped into existence, wearing the same worried expression and oversized jacket. 

Mizuki cleared his throat, “You need to make three successful copies”. And not a moment later, with a lazy shrug of his hands, two more popped into existence, leaving four Narutos in the room, each indiscernible from the next.  

“Congratulations, Naruto, you passed!” Iruka tried not to sound too excited, but the sight filled his heart. He always wanted all his students to pass, but this victory meant just a little more to him than the others did. He knew how it felt to be shunned, knew how gratifying it was to finally prove others wrong. 

He brandished the hitai-ate, holding it out to the blond and watching as he received a faint smile in return. 

“Thank you, Iruka-sensei”, Naruto said, his voice soft as he took the headband and bowed stiffly. He’d noticed that his other interactions with him were just as awkward, as though the boy had learned how to interact with others from a book or from a distance, and struggled to fully put the lessons into practice. But he could also see the faint blush beneath the unruly blond hair, and he knew that even if he couldn’t entirely express it, Naruto was pleased.

“The Hokage asked to see you after you completed the exam, and he’ll probably tell you more about it, but you will probably have to come into class tomorrow to be sorted into your genin team”. Naruto stiffened a little, but nodded, shoulders slumped slightly in defeat as though he had already expected it. 

“Well, I don’t want you to keep him waiting, but I just want you to know that I’m proud of you, and I can’t wait to see what you accomplish as a genin”, Iruka had to resist the urge to ruffle Naruto’s hair as his face grew even redder. 

“Thank you”, he said again, stuttering as though he hadn’t expected to hear the words. Mizuki let out a little huff, but the sound was drowned out as Naruto mumbled something unintelligible and all but fled from the room. 

Iruka just smiled in his absence, getting up to clean up the classroom in preparation for the next day. 

Maybe he’d go to Ichiraku later that night, not just because it was his favourite food stand, but because he had noticed it was someone else’s too.

🌀🌀🌀

Naruto’s face was still red as he slipped through the streets of Konoha, trudging to the Hokage tower. Iruka-sensei had always been nice to him, keeping him back after he’d completed his tests to make sure he was doing fine with the coursework, sometimes offering suggestions for books that corresponded with topics he’d been interested in. He’d even run into him a few times at Ichiraku’s, and he’d been roped into simple conversation, distracted as Iruka paid the bill for both of them. 

So he was definitely one of Naruto’s favourite people. But still, to hear the sincerity in his voice as he said those words. I’m proud of you. It felt like the words of an older brother, and it reminded him of that day he’d asked Kiba what siblings were like. 

He tried to chase the thought from his mind, so he turned to the cold feel of metal in his hand, smoothing his fingers over the blue fabric and feeling the grooves in the symbol. He knew it symbolized leaf shinobi pride, worn proudly to signify a connection to the village. But he couldn’t bring himself to wear it across his forehead; he already had his goggles to protect it, and they were much more neutral, not bringing attention to him. They also had the bonus of saving his eyesight when experimenting with exploding tags. 

He mulled over where to wear it until he came to the Tower, walking past the chunins on guard and just shoving it in his pocket when he came to the Hokage door. He knocked lightly, but didn’t wait for a reply, pushing open the door and walking up to the desk. 

Hiruzen was silent, looking at him expectantly until he pulled the hitai-ate out of his pockets, and then he gave him a measured smile. 

“I knew you could do it, Naruto”. The words weren’t as heartfelt as Iruka’s, but they gave him a sense of pride, and he bowed a little, pushing the fabric back into his pockets. 

“There are just a few things we need to discuss”, he began, taking his pipe out of his hands and fiddling with the nub. “I’m sure you’ve already guessed you’ll be placed on a standard genin team, and will have to work with others?”

“I thought as much, Iruka-sensei also confirmed it”, he mumbled, face not betraying whether he was excited or disappointed at the prospect.

“That’s good, just make sure to go to the Academy tomorrow at eight in the morning, team placements will be announced, and you’ll get to meet your teammates and your jonin sensei”. 

Naruto nodded, knowing by the Hokage’s tone that he had a lot more to say, and had just barely scratched the tip of the iceberg that was burdening him. 

Hiruzen lit the pipe and watched the smoke curl for a bit before taking a puff. He turned his chair slightly and looked out the window beside him, studying the houses and winding roads that made up the village. 

“You know, as the Hokage, there are decisions I make that I’m not sure whether are right or not. There are orders I decree that turn out to be the worst choices I could have made, and I won’t find out about some of them until years down the line. So now it seems as I get older, all those decisions are catching up to me, and now I have to spend more time righting wrongs and seeking forgiveness than I ever had to before. You know, to this day, I’m not sure I made the right call when I let you stop attending the Academy, and it’ll probably be years until I know if I did”. 

Naruto’s gaze remained resolutely trained on the ground, studying the tiles, and not offering a single word. He didn’t know how to reassure the Hokage that it was the best choice, either that or risk the lives of the others in the Academy. He couldn’t mention he had been a liability, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. So, he kept his mouth shut and waited for the next words. And when the silence got too loud, he looked up and noticed that Hiruzen’s eyes had moved from the town square that sat below them to the Hokage monument that towered over them. 

“But one of the calls I made was to keep the identity of your parents hidden”, that snapped Naruto to attention, sitting up straighter and leaning forward in anticipation. “When the war ended, your parents had a lot of enemies, and I was worried for your safety. I was planning to tell you earlier, but when you were six, I realized the village didn’t treat you as well as it should have, and I didn’t want you to deal with enemies in and outside our village walls. But now, you’re a genin, a legal adult, so I don’t feel the need to hide the truth any longer”. 

Now he turned, staring dead into his eyes. Naruto was buzzing with curiosity, his thirst for knowledge evident in his gaze as he waited for the next words with bated breath, wanting to see if his suspicions would be confirmed. 

“Your mother was Kushina Uzumaki, feared throughout Konoha as the ‘red-hot habanero’, and your father, and the reason I kept your parentage a secret, was the fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze”. 

The world felt silent, and all he could hear was the buzzing in his ears. 

There was a time he’d briefly entertained the idea, noting his similarity to the ‘yellow flash’, but he moved past it, believing it to be a pipe dream. But the identity of his mother? He had never heard the name Kushina, but even so, it felt impersonal, the name of someone he’d pass on the street, or hear about through whispered gossip. It didn’t sound like the name of his mother. 

“Maybe it’s because you had grown so used to the sound of Aiko”, flitted through his mind, but he tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. 

He could see the Hokage’s expectant face, he could see the face of his apparent father staring back at him overhead, and in his imagination, he could see the face of his mother staring at him from one of the books that he could borrow from the archive section of the library. It was a given she would have red hair, but he didn’t have much else to picture. Would she have blue eyes to match his? Would her hair be as long as his henged identity?

But for whatever reason, he didn’t feel the strong pulls of a connection, didn’t even feel the need to find out the face of the woman who held him during her last moments, to read stories about the man who had died to protect him. 

He had already found a father in the routine he made for himself, a mother in the words of a book, and a home in a forest that opened its arms without discrimination or judgment. He had no use for ghost stories, for words about two people he had no hope of meeting. 

But something in his chest, where his heart might have once been, twinged. It didn’t ache with the pain of loss, or with the burden of love, but with something else. Something small and inconsequential, but still heavy with a feeling he couldn’t identify.

Instead of exploring it, he shoved it down, righting his features and slouching once again. He cleared his throat and mumbled, “Was that all you wanted to tell me?”

Hiruzen looked shocked, but he just nodded, eyebrows furrowed and mouth twisted in confusion. 

Naruto bowed, lower than he usually did, “Thank you for telling me”. 

And with that, he left, not running, not stumbling out of the building, but walking as he always did, back slightly hunched and gaze flitting around. And he kept going until he settled in his usual meadow, welcoming the nudge of the fox that seemed to appear at his side. 

After an hour of meditation, he closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep, taking the pain in his chest and the disappointment in his eyes with him into the abyss of darkness that awaited him. 

As usual, he had been foolish to hope.

Chapter Text

To say Sakura was excited was an understatement; she was buzzing with energy, shaking Ino and talking her ear off about joining the shinobi ranks. It had been a dream of hers for a long time, cemented each time her parents tried to dissuade her from the career path.

She knew she was born to be a kunoichi, even if she didn’t have a bloodline or clan technique to back it up. In that regard, she was jealous of Ino, who had a clan and a clan technique, but seemed almost bored with the whole ordeal. 

“What’s there to be excited about?” She complained, slapping Sakura’s anxious fingers away. “I already know I’m going to be put with Shika and Choji”.

“But how about your jonin sensei, and all the cool jutsu they’ll teach you, and all the missions you’ll go on!” 

Despite her infectious excitement, Ino only waved her hand as though it was all beneath her. But looking closer, Sakura could see the tension in her shoulders and the set of her lips, as though she was forcing herself to look devoid of emotion. 

Sakura giggled at her antics, turning to face the board and watching Iruka idly pace the front of the room, waiting for the hour hand on the clock to hit eight. People filtered in slowly, looking either eager or nervous, with the exception of Shikamaru, who just looked plain bored. As she was counting down the last minute, wondering why Iruka hadn’t started speaking now that everyone was here, she noticed someone else slip into the classroom. He walked quickly to the back of the class, taking the last empty seat by Hinata as though he didn’t realize he shouldn’t be there. 

It was a boy, shorter than she was but made even shorter by his permanent slouch. She hadn’t seen much of his face—he whizzed by too quickly for that, and the shadows from his hood covered his features. Instead of pondering why he felt familiar, she turned to Iruka and noticed that he, too, had carefully watched the boy. But oddly, he made no comment, instead returning to his space in front of the chalkboard and starting the class. 

He gave the expected speech: congratulating them on passing the genin exam, reminding them about the core values of a shinobi, and expressing his belief in all of them. His words were touching; Sakura could tell he meant every last word, but still she could barely focus on the lecture. She was occupied with dual parts worry and confusion, busy overthinking team placements and wondering who that boy was. It wasn’t until Iruka pulled out a scroll and announced he would begin listing team placements that she really focused on him once again. 

She tensed at every group, crossing her fingers under her desk when she heard the names of certain people she didn’t want to be paired with. Sometimes she’d resign herself to a group before the last name had been called, telling herself it wasn’t the worst group to be in. But it wasn’t until he finished with team six that she heard her name.

“And the members of team seven are Haruno Sakura…” Her head snapped up, and she leaned forward in anticipation, grabbing Ino’s arm. “...Uchiha Sasuke…”

She almost jumped out of her seat, whooping with joy. She knew Ino wouldn’t be in her team, so she’d already narrowed down her options, and by far, Sasuke was among the highest on the list. He was a clan kid, not just a clan kid, but the clan kid. Everyone knew his brother, Itachi, lauded as the greatest prodigy since the fourth Hokage. So it wasn’t a stretch to say that he was practically raised on a training schedule, the shinobi path drilled into him since birth. He was someone you wanted on your team, capable of protecting your back if you needed the help, always refusing to back down. 

A part of her remembered her crush on him in the first year, when she’d blushed every time they were paired together, her gaze wandering from the task to him. But she pushed the memory down. It was so long ago that she knew if she brought it up, Ino would just laugh at her, mimicking how she’d swooned. 

She was almost so unfocused, busy thanking whoever was out there for placing Sasuke on her team, that she nearly missed the, “...and Naruto Uzumaki”. 

Who?

She felt like she’d heard the name before, the same way she’d heard of once-famous shinobi who hadn’t stood the test of time, their name vaguely recognizable but their feats forgotten. She turned to look at the boy who’d walked into class at the last minute, finding Ino’s eyes, and everyone else in the class, it seemed, already on him. He wilted under the attention, slouching further into his seat and keeping his eyes resolutely trained on his desk.

Iruka cleared his throat. “And for Team Eight”, he started, louder than usual, forcing everyone to turn back to him, “Nara Shikamaru, Yamanaka Ino, and Akimichi Chouji”.

Ino groaned, plunking her head on the table, but Sakura could see that her eyes still shone with that telltale excitement. She listened to the rest of the team placements but was still mulling over the name, Naruto Uzumaki. They had learned a bit about the destruction of the Uzumaki clan, so maybe that’s why the name rang a bell? 

“I’ll be introducing all the jonin instructors in the afternoon, so until then, you have a break which you should use to get to know your teammates better”, Iruka announced. Sakura noticed his eyes lingered over Naruto a second longer than they did on the others, worry creasing his brow. 

There was a scramble as everyone got up, excitedly joining their teammates and sitting in groups, whispering loudly. As she got up, she noticed Sasuke already approaching her, nodding in greeting. 

“It’s a pleasure to have you as a teammate”, he said, bowing slightly and shaking her hand. 

Sakura giggled; it was always funny watching the clan kids combat their usual childishness with clan etiquette. Once she composed herself, she responded, “It’s good to have you too”. 

They both glanced to the back of the class, observing Naruto, who had his head down, fiddling with his fingers. “I didn’t think he was going to become a shinobi”, Sasuke remarked softly, quiet enough that only she could hear. 

“You know him?”

“You don’t remember? He was in our class in our first year, but he only came for the first two days, and then he ran out”. 

Sakura tried to picture it, imagining a smaller blond with the same posture just sprinting out, and it drew up a vague memory. It was a long time ago, but she could see the flash of golden hair, hear the harsh whispers to stay away, and remember the fear moving her from her seat to the other side of the class. 

She tried to remember if she had seen any malice in his eyes when he walked into class, but his head was ducked and his eyes were trained resolutely on the ground. The memory made her wary, common sense and shinobi training kicking into gear, and prompting her to question it. 

“What else do you know about him?”

“He barely goes outside, or at least people barely ever see him. My brother told me that the jonin sometimes place bets on whether he’s run away yet. Adults also always whisper about him, but they stop if I ask what he did. They’re all so secretive when it comes to him, so I don’t know if it’s because of something bad or not”. 

Sakura, like any other kid, was curious. What would make someone drop out of the academy? What would make a child, someone the same age as her, a village pariah? What secret could he be hiding that forced him to the edges of the village for four years?

She tried to tell herself that curiosity, not the sympathy churning in her gut, pushed her to walk over to the boy, waving for Sasuke to follow. 

When she got closer, his gaze flitted to her, looking away quickly, but not quickly enough. Now she could see the nervousness in his fingertips, the defeat in the slope of his shoulders, the anxiety in his eyes.

Now, she was imagining what it must have been like to grow up like he did. She’d never even known that there was a surviving Uzumaki, so there was a high chance he grew up without family. And then when he joined the Academy, he was forced out and relegated to whatever corner of the village they sent him to, rarely seen, rarely heard of. She tried to imagine her name being whispered like a secret, her story being shared like how she had asked Sasuke to share his. 

She felt terrible, sympathy filling the pit that the memory had brought. Guilt clenched her heart, and pity made her speak, plastering on her brightest smile. 

“Hi! You’re Naruto, right? My name is Sakura Haruno, and I’m on your team!” She beamed, holding out her hand as Sasuke had done to her. 

He stared at it almost in confusion, and slowly lifted his hand, tentatively grabbing her hand and giving it a weak pump. Immediately, he withdrew back, wilting under her gaze like a plant in the shade. 

“And I’m Sasuke Uchiha, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope we can work together well”. He extended his hand in greeting, and this time Naruto was less surprised to see it, but still gave just as weak a shake. 

“Nice to meet you”, he replied, voice hesitant but clear, almost rehearsed. 

She pulled a chair over, and Sasuke did as well, and together they sat in front of Naruto, inquiry colouring their brows. 

“How’d you become a genin if you didn’t attend the academy?” She asked, curiosity loosening her tongue. She pinched herself, remembering to be less invasive, but when she quickly glanced at Naruto, he didn’t look offended, just surprised, as though he still couldn’t believe they were talking to him. 

“I studied on my own”, he said, eyes flitting between the two. 

“How about for stuff like taijutsu and shurikenjutsu?” Sasuke asked. She could tell that his upbringing as an Uchiha had turned him into somewhat of a strategist, making sure to be aware of everyone’s strengths and weaknesses, so his team could work well together.

Naruto shrugged, looking out of his element, so Sakura rushed to fill the silence, trying as hard as possible to prevent it from being awkward. 

“It's so cool that you learnt everything by yourself! It must’ve been hard without a sensei”. 

“I guess”, he muttered, before shaking his head slightly, stilling his hands from their fidgeting and looking closer to her eyes than before, as though forcing himself to socialize. “But I learn pretty well by reading and practicing on my own”. 

“Like with ninjutsu?” Sasuke asked, curious. 

Naruto nodded. “Fuuinjutsu, too”. 

Sakura’s head snapped to him. “You know fuuinjutsu? That's so cool! I thought almost nobody in Konoha could do it!”

Naruto’s face reddened, and he slouched a little more into himself, “I only know the basics”, he mumbled. 

“Even so,” Sasuke chimed in, “maybe that could help with long-range attacks? Especially if you aren’t the best at taijutsu, we'll still have a well-rounded team”. 

Sakura nodded, “True. Sasuke’s really good at short-range attacks, and I’m decent at both, so it balances it out”. 

Naruto nodded in agreement, still fidgeting. She didn’t know what to say to ease his nerves or even know if anything would, but the image of a boy growing up shunned by the village pushed the thought out of her mind. 

So she spoke, rambling on about random topics, from being nervous about being a genin, to being excited for missions, to what she ate last night. Sasuke jumped in a few times, filling in awkward spaces and asking directed questions. Naruto barely spoke, giving one-word answers when asked, but the tension seemed to leave him, straightening his shoulders as he leaned forward, nodding at her words. Eventually, he tentatively pulled down his hood, exposing questioning blue eyes and a nervous twist of lips. 

She rambled on until Iruka called the class back to order, and by then, somehow, an hour had already passed. He gave one final pep talk before the first jonin instructors began arriving, announcing their teams as they came in, until only teams 7 and 8 remained. 

The class was silent for a few more minutes before a man with a bushy beard and a cigarette resting loosely between his lips entered. She scrunched up her nose as he exhaled, and Iruka announced, “And this is Asuma, jonin for team 8”.

She waved at Ino, intertwining their fingers as she walked past and whispering, “Good luck”. 

Now it was only their team left, and Iruka sat down and sighed, muttered something about how, “It’s always him”. But he brushed off her question when she tried to ask what he meant. 

So instead, she waited. And waited. And waited. Until the excitement fizzled out of her system and she no longer jumped at every sound, expecting a jonin to walk through the door at any moment. She sank into her seat and sighed, and when she glanced up, she noticed that Sasuke looked bored too, staring out the window and watching as the birds flew by. Naruto looked the same as before, his eyes resolutely trained on the table, fingers tapping out a beat. 

“Why are they taking so long?” She groaned, burying her head in her desk. 

Sasuke just sighed, and Naruto twitched, and so they continued to wait in silence. 

At some point, she dozed off, jerking awake when she heard footsteps, but it was just Iruka-sensei organizing his desk. Occasionally, she tried to make conversation with Naruto or Sasuke, but eventually, all she could do was stare at the clock, counting down the minutes while unaware of which one would mark the arrival of their sensei. 

Her mind wandered, and as was becoming a trend, her thoughts lingered on Naruto. She racked her brain for why she felt so protective of him already, determined to make him feel included, and her memory conjured up an image of kids huddled around her in a circle. Even after so many years, she could envision the pointed fingers, the harsh laughter. She could remember spending hours psyching herself out before cutting her bangs in the mirror, crooked since they were done with blunted scissors. She remembered the elation at finally hiding her biggest insecurity, and the ridicule that came soon after at her choice. 

But more vivid than any other memory, she could see a little blonde girl, appearing larger than life, shouting at those bullies before extending a hand and offering a soft smile. She could remember how the girl had tucked her hair behind her ears, commenting that she shouldn’t let the words get to her, should embrace her features, not try to hide them. She remembered being given a ribbon and tying up her hair willingly for the first time. She remembered being called beautiful and, for once, actually believing it. 

Now, she imagined those who had gathered around her, but multiplied, until there were as many people as there were in Konoha. She imagined the pointing and the laughter, just how she experienced it, but now it was directed towards a little blond boy. She imagined having no saviour, no sunlight to permeate the constant storm. Not a moment of consideration was needed; Sakura knew she would have to be his Ino and return the favour that had been done to her. 

As she solidified her resolve, Naruto’s head finally lifted from the desk, jerking to the right, staring straight at the door. It was nearing the fourth hour of waiting, and they had lost hope. There was no sound of footsteps, no shadow under the door, so she thought nothing of it and looked back out the window.

 Yet, a moment later, she heard the door open. Her head snapped back, but before she could process the man standing in the doorway, she threw a confused look at Sasuke. He, too, raised his eyebrows, bewildered at how Naruto knew he was there. She put that thought aside for later, turning to the man who had made them wait hours for their meeting. 

Sakura regarded their alleged jonin instructor, taking in the slouched posture, the hitai-ate covering his left eye, and the mask pulled across his face. The only visible features were a single eye that seemed to lazily take in the three genin, and the shock of silver hair, fighting gravity and sticking up in an unruly fashion. 

“Yo”, the man said, giving a small wave.

“And that’s my sign to go”, Iruka grumbled, leaving the room after giving them a strained smile. 

Sakura thought their jonin sensei looked disappointing, but she also knew that jonin was not an easy rank to achieve, so his appearance must be deceiving. 

“What took you so long?” Sasuke questioned, the wait dulling his usually sharp manners.

The man waved his hand placatingly, his eye upturned in something vaguely reminiscent of a smile. “I got lost on the road of life”. 

Sakura sighed internally, unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes. 

“Well”, he said, clapping his hands together, “we've wasted enough time. How about we head up to the roof and begin our introductions?”

She wanted to mention that he had been the reason that most of their time was wasted, but before she could open her mouth, he shunshinned away, leaving only a faint breeze as a reminder of his presence. 

Sasuke groaned, but got up, and she followed, looking back to make sure Naruto was coming along. He looked nervous, but he was already standing, awkwardly trailing behind them. 

“Don’t worry, we got this”, she smiled, hoping to ease his worries. But as she said the words, she didn’t know if they were directed towards him or herself. Though the excitement had died down, once she walked out of the classroom, it sparked up again, dimmer than before, but bright enough to warm her from the inside out. But with the excitement also came the anxiety, the incessant need to overthink every possible scenario. 

Still, for the sake of Naruto, she schooled her expression and stood up straight, walking to the staircase with forced confidence. With fabricated conviction, she opened the door to the roof, taking the first step toward becoming a kunoichi. 

🌀🌀🌀

Something about their jonin instructor reminded Sakura of Naruto, except he was more subtle, putting on a straight face to hide his anxiety. But she noticed a stillness in him, as though he was hyperaware of everything and was doing his best to stop himself from reacting to anything. 

Once everyone was seated on the steps, he clapped his hands together again, “So why don’t we go around and say a little bit about ourselves?”

“Like what?” Sakura asked, tilting her head to the side. 

He blinked. “You know… what you like, what you hate… dreams, ambitions? That type of stuff”. 

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself first?” Sasuke asked, but there was a glint in his eyes, as though he knew that was the last thing the man wanted to hear. 

He froze before sighing, looking up to the clouds and pretending to think. “Let’s see… My name is Hatake Kakashi and I might be your Jonin instructor. You don’t need to know my likes, I hate talking about my dislikes, and my dreams are none of your business! Now it’s your turn”, he said mildly, staring directly at Sasuke. 

Sakura could tell Sasuke was trying to stifle a laugh, but he composed himself, years of Uchiha training kicking into gear. He cleared his throat and sat up, speaking with confidence. 

“I’m Sasuke Uchiha, I like training and practicing with my clan, I hate people who aren’t willing to put in any effort, and my dream is to be a better shinobi than my brother”. 

Kakashi nodded, but made no remark, as though he had already expected that. Then he turned to her and Naruto, looking between the two to see who was going next. When it became clear that Naruto wasn’t, she started racking her brain for what to say and just went with the first thing that came to mind. 

“My name is Sakura Haruno! I like hanging out with my friends, learning jutsu, and studying, and I hate bullies and impatient people. My dream is to become a great kunoichi, just like Tsunade Senju, and prove to my parents that kunoichi are just as important as shinobi!”

Kakashi nodded again, making no comment but finally turning to Naruto, who was fidgeting with the strap of one of his pockets. He looked up and glanced around, as though just noticing that the other members in his group had introduced themselves, and he was the only one left. 

“I’m Naruto Uzumaki”, he said, his voice low, as though it were a question. She waited a beat, and then another, until she realized he wasn’t going to say anything else. 

“Any likes? Dislikes? Dreams?” She prompted, not just to encourage him to speak, but because she was curious. This was the only person she hadn’t shared a class with for four years; it felt weird knowing next to nothing about him. 

“I like fuuinjutsu? And I don’t like…” he thought about it for a bit, but just shook his head, as though erasing a thought from his head. “My dream is to find a shinobi way”. 

That surprised her, and evidently Sasuke too; it wasn’t something she typically heard. She couldn’t tell if it shocked Kakashi; he still looked bored, so either he was forcing it to be like that, years of shinobi training coming into practice, or he just didn’t care. 

“Great”, he announced, clapping his hands together once more, a nervous tick perhaps? “Any questions?”

Sakura put up her hand, and Kakashi raised his one visible eyebrow, making her blush. It would take time to adjust from being a student to being a genin, and she needed to remember that now she didn't need to put her hand up to ask a question. She coughed into her elbow, hoping the red on her cheeks would fade. 

“What did you mean when you said you might be our jonin instructor?”

“Great question! You technically haven’t passed the genin test”. He gave her one of his trademark eye smiles, as though he hadn’t just struck her in the gut. 

“What?” She spluttered. “But we have the hitai-ate to prove it”, she insisted, pointing at hers perched on her head. 

“Yes, you do, but though you passed the graduation exam, you aren’t officially a genin. Of the twenty-seven members of your graduation class, only roughly nine of you will actually become genin. Most will be sent back for more practice”, he stated, as though it were obvious. “So in the high chance that you’re sent back to the academy, I won’t be your instructor”. 

“So how do we become genin?” Sasuke prodded, gaze determined. He had a steely look in his eye, as though sure he would make it. 

“It wouldn’t be any fun if I told you, would it?” Sasuke glared at him, and he put up his hands placatingly. “If I told you, you’d chicken out, so instead just meet me tomorrow on the training fields at 6 a.m. sharp. Bring all your shinobi gear, and don’t eat anything, unless you want to throw it up”, he looked around at their surprised faces, taking in their anxious expressions. He gave another eye smile, “Any more questions?”

This time, both she and Sasuke put up their hands, confusion in their eyes.

“Great”, he said, voice flat. And with that, he gave a mock salute and shunshinned away, leaving them with dumb-founded expressions. 

“What is he going to take us do?” She groaned, burying her head in her knees. 

“No idea”, Sasuke exhaled, looking at the spot Kakashi had been standing in, as though it would bring him back.  

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Naruto shrug, going back to fidgeting with the strap of his pocket. 

Gradually, she felt all the excitement from the morning drain out of her, worry taking its place. That afternoon, as she left the Academy gates, she had a sneaking suspicion that she would be seeing them again soon.  

Chapter Text

Naruto didn’t know what to make of his team. 

It had been surreal sitting in that classroom; it wasn’t the same as the one from four years ago, but it had the same layout. If he didn’t focus on it, he could almost envision his first year class, filled with younger versions of everyone that had sat around him. Their gazes had been just as, if not more, intense than that day, but now unaccompanied by whispers. 

He had felt so restless, unable to stop fidgeting and twitching, longing for the open forest. He tried to picture traipsing through the trees, walking over shallow streams as he guided chakra to the soles of his feet, or curling up in a meadow, a fox beside him. He tried to recall every peaceful afternoon, every morning he woke up and realized he had fallen asleep in the forest, but it did nothing to quell his nerves. 

So he resolved to stare at his desk, trying to zone out yet hyperaware of every word that was said. When he heard his name being called, he knew he had an Uchiha on his team, and another, a girl without a clan, or without one that he knew of. But he couldn’t bring himself to look up and seek out his teammates, so he resigned himself to being a pariah, choosing to count down the minutes until Iruka-sensei would set them free.

So it had been shocking when he had heard a voice, not curled up in disgust or passive with reluctance, but cheerful, excited. He listened to a bubbly introduction, tentatively shaking Sakura’s hand. It was pitiful to think she was probably the first person he’d touched in years, but the thought popped into his mind anyway. 

He heard the Uchiha, Sasuke, he had said, introduce himself, a touch more formal and reserved, but not entirely closed off. His face also seemed familiar, but then again, he’d tended to observe the Uchiha a lot in the past, so it was a given he’d see some resemblance. 

He'd listened to both of them as they'd talked, obviously excited to be promoted to the rank of genin. Sasuke had tried to hide his glee, appearing more laid back than his chakra felt, while Sakura was obvious about it, rambling on and on about her hopes. It was nice to listen to a conversation without the pressure of coming up with a response. 

Perhaps the less he spoke, the less likely they would be to pin him as the demon, to see his pointed teeth and bared flesh and throat wide enough to swallow a village. Maybe it would be longer than a day this time, before they noticed. Maybe this pseudo-peace could last just a bit longer.

It had been proven, tried and tested time and time again, so by now he knew he was stupid to hope. Utterly foolish to ponder on the ‘what-ifs’ and ‘maybes’.

And yet, he still did.

So the next morning, he was leaning up against a tree in the training grounds, an hour earlier than he was meant to be, hoping it would be better. He had been too worried to sleep, had barely rested in between overthinking every possible interaction, so he decided to get ready and leave his apartment.

He had strolled across the village, using the dark as a cloak to slip by unnoticed. Not that there was anyone to slip by at that hour, but on the off chance that a squad returning from a mission or a drunk civilian crossed his path, he didn’t have to worry.

It was a novelty, walking through the village without the weight of eyes on him. Though he was walking slowly, he slowed down even more, savouring each unburdened moment and cataloguing it for the next time he would need a good memory to dwell on.

The peace had followed him to the training ground, where he sat down and meditated, focusing on the flicker of his fire chakra, now one entity, indistinguishable from the parts that had once been his wind chakra. He could stop the flow, could separate the two, but he had no reason to. It didn’t require any of his focus to keep it in check; it was subconscious, staying that way even in his sleep.

Despite the progress, he still meditated and monitored his chakra, seeing it as more of a comfort than a part of his routine. He was focused on it, tracing the path that a stream of his chakra was taking from his forearm to his stomach, burning with the flame of Kyuubi’s rage, when he felt the presence of a familiar chakra signature. 

“Good morning”, he heard from above him. He could feel the heat emanating from Sasuke, the warmth of the usual Uchiha fire chakra. 

It was funny that he had an Uchiha as a teammate, the same clan he had used as a case study to replicate the fire nature.

“Good morning”, he replied, voice rough from underuse.

He didn’t know what to say, and Sasuke seemed lost in thought, so he stayed silent. He couldn’t ease himself back into meditation, but he could focus on his chakra output, making a game out of identifying the smallest animal he could sense with his chakra.

He had just gotten to a mouse when he heard another voice piercing the dawn.

“Hi guys!” Sakura said, her voice more sure and determined than when she had wished them goodbye the other day. 

Sasuke inclined his head in greeting, and Naruto gave a hesitant wave, still on guard around the two.

Once she sat down, Sasuke began to speak, and Naruto realized he hadn’t simply been zoning out the whole time.

“We need to come up with a plan”, he started, hands clasped together.

“But we don’t know what he’s gonna make us do”, Sakura reasoned with the air of someone who’d thought through a fair deal of possibilities.

“We can’t be completely sure, but I’ve talked to a lot of my family about their genin tests, and I found out it’s usually some form of attacking the jonin instructor or finding them or something like that”.

“Attacking the jonin?”

“Yeah. It could just be a fight to see our skills, or there might be an objective we need to complete. Like Shisui told me that for his test, he had to lift a feather from his sensei’s pocket”.

“A feather? I don’t know if I could do that”, Sakura said nervously.

“Well, each jonin does it differently, especially based on what they’re looking for. Like Shisui’s was testing their stealth, while others might test jutsu, or something else”.

“What do you think Kakashi-sensei would test?”

“Maybe jutsu? I’m really not sure, ‘cause everyone knows him as the shinobi that’s copied over a thousand jutsu, but nobody actually knows anything about him”.

Sakura blinked at the title, looking shocked at the name. Naruto almost hadn’t made the connection, but after hearing his jonin sensei’s name, he’d rechecked the Bingo Book the Hokage had given him, and picked out the Copy Ninja. 

“But it’s no use trying to guess what he might do”, Sasuke continued, picking up steam. “What we can do is find a way to work together, so we can do whatever he tells us to”.

“You sound like you already have a plan in mind”, Sakura pointed out.

Sasuke blushed, but nodded. “I was thinking about it last night”.

He turned to Naruto, tilting his head slightly to the side as if debating whether to say what was on his mind. “I’m just going to assume you’re not big on taijutsu?” 

Naruto thought it over for just a moment, remembering all the shinobi spars he’d witnessed, the rapid exchanges of blows, the lithe movements, as though an intricate dance. 

He shook his head in agreement. 

Sasuke didn’t seem surprised, just nodding as he confirmed his suspicions. “That’s perfectly fine, because I was thinking you could be more of a distraction”. 

“Distraction?” He prompted.

“I’m not sure how much fuuinjutsu you know, but I assumed you know a few seals that might be able to distract, or honestly just annoy Kakashi-sensei? It’d probably be best if you could activate them from afar so he won’t be able to find you”.

The question made him hesitant. He’d recently been working on remotely activated seals, and by recently, it had been a few months. But it rubbed him the wrong way, using something he wasn’t completely done with in the presence of others.

If he was being honest with himself, it was the thought of using his chakra around them.

But he saw the hope in Sasuke’s eyes, the curiosity in Sakura’s at the thought of finally seeing an art she’d only read about. Guilt at having nothing else to offer made him nod slowly, zoning out from the rest of the conversation as he racked his brain with what to do. 

After finishing timed seals, he’d looked for the next big project he could work on, wanting to expand his knowledge when he finally mastered control of his chakra and knew that he would become a shinobi by the end of the year. In terms of practicality, time-activated seals were only useful if the fight was planned or if he had enough time in the middle to edit one of his seals and add the time component. 

But he didn’t want to rely on ‘ifs’; he wanted concrete solutions, different ways to do things so he would never be stuck. 

That led to a host of projects: learning how to write seals on materials other than paper, quickening his seal drawing, and the one that took up most of his time: learning how to activate a seal from afar.

He knew there were thousands of ways to do it, but he struggled to find even one that was discreet or viable. Sure, he could force wind chakra into the seal from afar, but his was a noticeable orange, and he would lose the element of surprise. He could place most of the chakra in the seal and channel in a little to activate the seal, but his chakra was so volatile that for most seals, after a while it would tear them to shreds. 

So he’d perused different sources, and that’s when he first checked out the bingo books and noticed Kakashi-sensei’s impressive title and even more remarkable feats. But he’d also stumbled upon Sasori, a puppeteer famous for controlling multiple puppets simultaneously. It was impressive, from what he’d read about what a typical puppeteer could do, but that wasn’t what interested him. 

It was the chakra strings he used that interested him. They were impossibly thin, invisible to the typical eye, and so far, they were his best bet. He’d tried out the exercises he found in one of the puppeteer books in the library, sending out his chakra in as small tendrils as he could, then spinning them quickly to direct them to the seal. It had taken weeks of practice, but he became proficient at it, conjuring the strings at a moment’s notice. 

The only problem was sending chakra through them. Either he could constantly lengthen the string, forcing the end into the seal, or he could send chakra along the string. The first was tedious and could disrupt the seal as the chakra entered it while spinning. If he tried to force too much in or did it too quickly, the rotational force tore the seal apart. But the other was even riskier, as forcing too much along the string could lead it to snap, and the chakra that hadn’t made it into the seal would disperse in the air, tearing through the environment. 

He didn’t trust that method around the creatures in the forest, so he always practiced it on the roof of his apartment, so he definitely didn’t want to use it around people. But what choice did he have? 

After hours spent lapsing between listening to his teammates converse and worrying about what to do, he felt a spark in the air, the calm before a storm. He straightened up, realizing that it was Kakashi’s lightning chakra signature, and when he turned, he saw him sitting on a low branch, legs swinging in the early afternoon breeze. He clapped his hands together, eye smile looking particularly sinister. 

“Well, let’s get started, shall we?

🌀🌀🌀

Unsurprisingly, Sasuke was right. 

Kakashi had dangled the bells in front of them, claiming that only those who got the bells would pass. It was an obvious bluff. Naruto had read enough about shinobi to know that a genin team always had three members, but knowing that didn’t make the exercise any easier. The Copy Ninja was just as good as his bingo book made him out to be, standing in the middle of the training ground, reading an Icha Icha book, yet obviously aware of all their positions and tactics. 

They had all dispersed into the bushes, and as he fled, he dropped seals across the training grounds, continuing until he was satisfied with their positions. First, it was Naruto’s job to lead Kakashi into the clearing in the trees, where Sasuke and Sakura were hidden in the foliage. 

So far, it had been going well. He’d placed paper bombs behind rocks, on the backs of trees, anywhere he could find the room for them. Paper bombs were special, as they only needed a little bit of chakra for the initial spark that would cause the explosion; the rest of the chakra was already within them. His chakra didn't rip them apart, instead intensifying the resulting explosion. So he didn’t have to do much, feeding the tips of the chakra strings into the seals to cause the reaction. 

He had an inkling that Kakashi knew what he was doing; perhaps he saw him place the seals, or perhaps he could pick up the threads. Either way, he acted oblivious, using the substitution jutsu or just weaving out of the way of the bombs as they detonated. He was inching closer to the clearing with each bomb until he was within it, giving it a cursory glance, no doubt pinpointing his teammates. 

As soon as he stepped within distance, waves of Kunai and shuriken were flung at him, but he didn’t see Kakashi move, instead watching as they poofed out of existence once they ‘hit’ their target. When he did move, he did so sparingly, eyes still trained on his novel, and feet light on the ground. The ones he dodged found themselves impaled in trees or scattered across the ground. It looked like he might be a sensor type, adept at discerning the clone jutsu without a thought.  

When a flood of Sasukes erupted from the trees, he barely blinked, still sweeping a distracted hand through any of the clones that came too close. A moment later, though, there was a resounding clash of steel, and when he squinted through the flood of clones, he could see a kunai clutched in Kakashi’s hand striking against one in Sasuke’s, now the actual one. 

Kakashi raised his one visible eyebrow, as though challenging him, and he put the novel away into his pocket, falling into a stance. The two circled each other, and it was clear Kakashi was waiting for Sasuke to make the first move. 

Eventually, he lunged forward, throwing punches yet being blocked at every turn, fists meeting the air or hitting Kakashi’s sleeve. He was persistent, trying again and again for an opening, yet being denied one at every turn. 

Naruto had spent years watching shinobi fight, but still, it was impressive to watch a jonin at work. 

During his first few months of observation, as the book suggested, he had noticed that most of the jonin could sense him, either outright staring at him, despite the cover he hid behind, or glancing at him occasionally, tracking his movements. At first, he had debated whether or not he should continue watching them, but he made his choice when a purple-haired jonin, who he later learned was Mitarashi Anko, had dropped onto the branch beside him, a predatory smile on her face as she asked, “Enjoying the show?” 

Needless to say, he hadn’t watched jonins practice for a few years.

However, what was even more impressive, in his opinion, was watching an academy student hold his own against a jonin. 

Though Kakashi appeared relaxed, it was clear he had to focus more as time passed, narrowing his eyes and quickening his pace. Sasuke used the Uchiha clan stance, fluidly moving from one attack to another, not halting, whether it glanced off Kakashi’s shoulder or was blocked outright.

Naruto shook himself from watching the dance, reminding himself that he had a job to do. While waiting for the bombs to detonate, he had taken the time to use his chakra to trace a seal in the clearing, using a wind jutsu to cover it up with leaves. He created two chakra strings, one from each hand, and he started to feed chakra into the seal.

It was a paralysis seal, using earth chakra to bind whoever was within range to the ground, halting their movements. The plan was for him to perform it, and Sasuke would likely get caught in the process, so Sakura was meant to run in and snatch the bells. He had made the seal big on purpose, not knowing which part of the clearing the fight would take place. 

As a result, it took a lot of chakra to activate, so as he continued to feed chakra into the seal, he focused back on the fight, watching as the clone Sasukes disappeared as their attacks got more aggressive, hitting the clones in the process. 

Though she stopped making more henged clones, Sakura continued to throw shuriken from the trees, throwing clone diversions while they were engaged at close range, and actual ones when Sasuke wasn’t as close to Kakashi. She took the opportunity to send a wave of kunai as Sasuke stepped back as he ran through three familiar hand seals and used the signature Uchiha fireball jutsu. Before the flames had retreated, Sasuke shunshinned behind Kakashi, throwing a kick at his exposed back. Surprisingly, the hit landed and Sasuke reared his hand back for a punch, but before it could land, there was a cloud of smoke. 

Poof.

‘Kakashi’ faded out of existence, revealing that it was a clone, a shadow clone by the looks of it, the entire time. To his credit, Sasuke didn’t let the shock halt his movements. He immediately looked around, activating his sharingan and glancing around the trees. Before Naruto could find out if he saw Kakashi or not, he heard a scream resounding from the trees, and moments later, Kakashi dropped Sakura in the clearing, either unconscious or caught in a genjutsu.

Sasuke rushed to aid his teammate, but Kakashi was more serious this time. He no longer approached with a carefree attitude, stance now fixed, and eyes focused. He pulled Sasuke into another spar, but his movements were too fast to be seen, just a flurry of limbs and intent. He pushed Sasuke back towards a tree, as he could do nothing but attempt to dodge the incoming attacks, no longer trying for the offensive. 

He backed up to avoid a sweeping kick, moving to the side to avoid a right hook, and before Naruto could call out a shout when he noticed the patch of too dark grass, Sasuke was raised in the air, suspended by his ankle. 

Naruto winced internally, but he barely had a moment to sympathize before Kakashi’s gaze snapped to him. 

He desperately continued to push chakra into the paralysis seal, but it needed far too much. The more he tried to force it, the weaker the chakra string seemed to get, becoming dangerously close to snapping. He thought of rushing it even more, putting all he had into the weak string, but when he stared back into Kakashi’s eyes, he imagined them erupting from his skull, the blood dripping onto his mask. He noticed Sakura was still passed out on the ground, Sasuke still hanging from the tree, both dangerously close to the seal, in range of whatever chakra pushback might happen. 

He imagined three people becoming plaques on gravestones, flowers decorating the earth where their lives could have bloomed. 

He stopped channelling chakra into the seal. 

He didn’t have a moment to spare, and clearly didn’t have a chance to think, because before he knew it, he had dropped down from the tree and was standing opposite Kakashi, trying to rearrange his limbs into something even remotely resembling a taijutsu stance. He thought he might’ve heard a groan coming from Sasuke’s direction, but before he could consider it, Kakashi was advancing, going noticeably slower than he did with Sasuke. 

Naruto knew how to regulate the chakra in his body towards his fists or feet, so his attacks could hit harder. But knowing how to do that was vastly different from knowing how to actually fight. Sure, his hits would do a lot of damage, but that was only if they landed. And going against Kakashi, it was clear that none of them would. 

He tried a feeble punch, which was easily deflected. Then he went in for a kick, cocking back his foot and striking, but before his shoes could brush against the fabric of Kakashi’s pants, he felt a hand grip his ankle, tugging him forward and making him lose his balance. The fight hadn’t even had the opportunity to begin, yet he was already on the ground. 

Looking up, he noticed the glint of the silver bells, and he weakly tried to grab it, shame further draining his energy. Kakashi raised an eyebrow, as if surprised he would try something so pointless, and just slapped his fingers away. Kakashi leaned down and jabbed a finger into his forehead, sighing deeply as he sent out a rush of his lightning chakra. Naruto didn’t even have a moment to stew on his embarrassment before everything faded to black.

🌀🌀🌀

Sasuke almost didn’t want Naruto to regain consciousness, wanting to forget the fight he’d watched him try to put up against Kakashi. 

He knew, as Itachi had drilled into him, that he was lucky to have been born into a clan, specifically the Uchiha clan. He had been introduced to jutsu and chakra long before others had been, and received support from his family as he trained. He knew that most of his ‘talents’ weren’t prodigious; they were simply the result of training from a young age. He had had a head start and knew he was privileged in that regard. 

Still, he couldn’t help wincing at how pitiful Naruto’s display had been. 

He’d been waiting for Kakashi to freeze the whole fight, eyes trained carefully on the silver bells so he could grab them as soon as he paused, on the off chance that he wasn’t frozen in place as well. When Kakashi was revealed to be a clone, he assumed that was why Naruto hadn’t activated the seal, somehow able to distinguish the clone from the original. Yet, when he came into the clearing, the seal was still never activated; instead, he had to watch Naruto attempt to hold his own while suspended from the tree. 

As he mulled over the fight, Sakura woke up, red-faced, and remorseful at being taken out of the fight so early. But there was also a determination in her gaze, as though promising herself that it wouldn’t happen again. So now all that was left was to wait for Naruto to wake up, bound to one of the trees in the training ground. 

Kakashi leaned against a different tree, observing the three and shaking his head in disappointment. 

Sasuke didn’t need to see the expression broiling in his gut put together so perfectly on a jonin’s face, but it reminded him of how useless he had felt in the moment. No matter his feelings against Naruto, he hadn’t completed his goal either. His brother had graduated from the academy at 6, yet here he was: twelve years old and unable to win a fight. He knew the fight in question was against a seasoned jonin, lauded as one of the best shinobi of his time, but the irrational part of his mind disregarded the fact. 

He stewed in self-loathing until he heard Kakashi shift, and focused back onto his surroundings, realizing that Naruto’s eyes were now open, flitting around sheepishly.  

“You guys failed to get a single bell!” Kakashi announced, clapping his hands together in glee. 

The three stayed silent, gazes trained on the ground. “None of you were able to even brush a hand against one of the bells”, he stated deadpan. 

“You need to work on your aim and be more aware of your surroundings”, he said, narrowing his eyes as Sakura, before turning to Sasuke. “And you need to integrate jutsu more into your taijutsu; it must flow as easily as your punches do. And you”, he started, turning to Naruto, "need to work on… everything”. 

Sasuke stopped his head from nodding in agreement, reminding himself that they were in the same boat. 

“But despite that, you passed the test”. 

What?

“What?” Sasuke asked without thinking, confusion bubbling out of his mouth. He noticed his shock was mirrored in his teammates as well, as they squinted at their sensei.

“The real purpose of this assignment was to evaluate your teamwork. Aim, fighting stances, and jutsu can all be taught, but team chemistry can’t. The fact that you came up with a plan together, one that used your individual skills, is enough to show me that you’re capable of reasoning and working together. All the teams I’ve had have tried individually for a chance to get a bell for themselves, and they all failed. You should be proud to hear that you’re the first group that passed”. 

Though the news made him happy, simultaneously, it made him feel even worse. It felt almost like a pity victory, as though Kakashi was telling them that they'd failed, but they were still winners at heart. Maybe that wasn't even the purpose of the test, maybe he had just felt bad after their pitiful display.

The voice in his mind whispered that Itachi would’ve been able to get one of the bells, whether it was individually or working with a team, he would’ve found a way and had the skills to execute it. 

“Tomorrow we start the first day of actual training, so come back here at 8 am, and don’t be late!” Kakashi eye smiled, disappearing in a cloud of mist. 

One he left, Sakura punched the sky victoriously, whooping at the victory, and Naruto gave a measured smile at her antics. Sasuke laughed too, matching the mirth he saw in them, but there was a seed of doubt planted in his gut. 

He had been put with a Haruno, and an Uzumaki: a civilian, and the untrained child of a dead clan.

He didn’t want to think it, but he felt as though they would hold him back.