Reminiscence

by kira18

Summary:

Naruto has always known he was different. From the moment his mind could form conscious thoughts, he knew that he wasn't like everyone else. For, buried within the confines of his mind were memories of a life he hadn't lived. At least not in this lifetime.

 

Or, a fic in which Harry Potter is reincarnated as Naruto Uzumaki. Getting his full memory back at the age of five, he ventures to learn how to live in a world so different from his own. Neglected, pushed aside and shunned by his own village, he does his best to survive.
With his magic, his chakra and his friends, he vows to become the greatest ninja in order to bring peace to the Shinobi world.

Chapter 1: Solus

He doesn’t know when his life starts and his first memory begins. Can’t pinpoint the exact moment his brain starts registering the world around him long enough for instances to be engraved into the confines of his mind.

He knows, however, that the old, fraying walls that surround him have always been there. Like the discolored dents in the ceilings and the cracks that slither and twist into the worn wooden tiles of the floor, they persist and remain. He can’t remember a time when they weren’t there.

Somehow, the familiar sight of the chipped wallpaper each morning, comforts him.

Rubbing the sleepiness and blurriness out of his eyes, he shuffles out from under the ragged, scratchy cover. Reaching for something on his nightstand- he can never remember what- his hand and mind reach a standstill as he finds nothing to reach for.

His mind flashes to the nightmare he'd been fighting off just before his timely wake-up call. Slumping as the only thing that emerges from his memory is the ever-persistent acidic green light that has plagued his dreams for his entire life. At least this time, there was no hissing or screaming accompanying it.

His feet dangle from his bed and he has to scoot closer and hop down the structure. Conscious of his small stature as he hits the floor. The wood beneath his bare feet is cold to the touch, rough, and uneven.

His one-bedroom apartment feels way too big and empty. The silence that accompanies these early hours of the dawn makes the hair on his skin stand on end. Realistically, he knows that just within a few minutes the noises will begin to emerge along with the waking world. The stray dog that passes his street every day will bark at everything that moves. Just like the neighbors next door will start their screaming match, either ending with loud, slammed doors or even louder creaks in the woodwork.

Nevertheless, he knows better than to disregard his few minutes of peace before the chaos. So, with light, tired steps, he waddles into the tiny kitchen, pulling the stool beneath the sink until it's positioned right in front of it, and wastes no time climbing it.

Its height is, thankfully, perfect for him to be able to reach the faucet comfortably. His fingers stretch towards the toothbrush nestled safely within his favorite mug, going through the familiar motion of brushing his teeth without conscious thought.

The water in his bathroom sink has been out for a few weeks now. He's come to learn to live around the things that mysteriously fail to work in his apartment. His landlord- he learned the hard way- was not overly eager to be disturbed. He thanks whatever luck he has that his shower's water, albeit cold and icy, still runs relatively well.

Rinsing his mouth one last time, he hops down from his perch, kicking the stool until it slides under the stove.

He doesn't climb it though, instead, he marches to the fridge, peering inside to gauge the state of his remaining supplies. The groceries that used to mysteriously pop up once a month for as long as he could recall suddenly stopped showing up a few weeks ago. A few weeks after his fifth birthday, to be more precise. Instead, a monthly allowance had been popping up on his counter. The perpetrator never left any trace of their presence and he quickly learned to ignore it, else the intrusions drive him crazy. He suspects it’s the masked men’s work. Anbu, he thinks he heard them being referred to as.

It didn’t take long for him to find out, however, that the money he got would do him no favors. On the very rare occasion that any vendors agreed to sell him anything, they tripled the price on everything he even dared to look at.

He’s been rationing what little he had left ever since.

His stomach rumbles at the thought, and he fishes the lonely egg from its plastic confines. He walks towards the stove, holding his find carefully so as not to drop it.

Making breakfast is a mundane affair, cooking has always been something he knew instinctively how to do. He doesn’t know how he’s come to discover the intricacies of the culinary field, nor does he recall anyone ever teaching him. Yet, he finds solace in the moments he spends making himself meals. Something in his mind stirs at the thought as if rebelling against the mere notion. A now familiar fog engulfs his senses for a few seconds and he has to physically shake the suspension. Distantly, he’s aware of the flickering lights that start acting up around him. They tended to do that from time to time, coincidently when he was lost in thought.

It feels as though something is trying to claw itself to the surface of his mind, failing miserably even as it gets closer to success with each attempt.

The only people he’s met were the orphanage workers and the old man that sometimes checks up on him on occasion.

He’s never been particularly comfortable around the man. He knows he must be someone important to the village, someone in a position of great power, if the guards that shadowed him were of any indication.

Despite the relative calm and caring aura that surrounded the older man, Naruto’s instincts never let him relax in the other’s presence. Silent alarms blaring in his mind, as if to ward him off of something. Somehow, it feels as though he’s falling into a familiar pattern, a path he’s already walked.

Turning the scrambled dish in its pan, he reflects on his current situation. He needed to go out and find himself something to eat, he didn’t particularly look forward to going hungry.

Turning the fire off, gripping the handle of the pan tightly he carefully climbs back down. Small hands shake at the weight as he balances himself down and towards the small table he's set in the middle of the room.

The egg is perfectly cooked, even though it lacks the proper spices. It disappears way too early for his taste. Leaving a longing ache for more in its wake.

As he goes through the automatic motions of cleaning up, he wonders if other five-year-olds had to worry about the things he does.

If they too, spent their time alone, and unsupervised.

Swallowing back the lump he feels forming at the base of his throat, he tries to reason with himself.

Realistically, he knows that he was not like other children his age. Knows that his mind worked differently. Understands that very few, if any at all, woke up screaming in the middle of the night because of terrors they barely remembered while conscious.

He wonders if any of them went through life with as much hatred and contempt following in their wake.

He sees it in the eyes that peered down at him wherever he dared to go. Notices it in the dark gazes that followed his every move, as if waiting for him to jump out and- and do something. Anything to justify their hatred and cruelty.

He’s also come to realize that he knows things others his age, shouldn’t- couldn’t know. Notices it in the way he finds himself muttering in a language he’s never heard spoken out loud before, by anyone other than himself.

Reading and writing in the language spoken around him has never been easy. Having to teach himself through eavesdropping and hard-earned book scavenging hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park.

According to the old man, he was to start going to the Ninja academy in a few months. The entire concept had just been so foreign and novel that he hadn’t known how to react.

He realizes now that he’s never been given a choice in the matter. It seemed that even his life wasn’t his own to control.

Sighing heavily, he shuffles back into his room. Pulling off his clothes he pulls up his only other pair. Glad he’d remembered to wash them the night before.

The white shirt is faded at the edges, leaning into a lighter grey color from overuse. He wonders if the old woman living downstairs would be alright with giving him some of her grandson’s hand-me-downs.

His shorts on the other hand are still in relatively good condition. The black color has only dulled slightly in the years he's been wearing it.

Satisfied with his outfit, Naruto wanders towards his front door, pulling on his black jacket from its perch on the bench near the entrance. He makes quick work of unlocking the three locks adorning his door, while he's slipping on his sandals. He double-checks every lock before leaving. Not that he had anything of value to steal. Yet, he learned the hard way that even the most useless procession would get damaged if left unsupervised and unprotected.

He does his best to ignore the blaring red graffiti etched into his door. Resolving himself to scrub it off later. The word ‘MONSTER' has always been something the world associated with his existence it seems.

He’s just glad it wasn’t anything worse.

Shaking off the morbid thoughts, he dashes down the stairs, making sure to look carefully at where his feet land to avoid tripping or falling.

The streets are packed by now, villagers coming to and from places with purpose in their steps. He thinks he would've enjoyed watching them go about their day if he thought his presence would be welcomed.

He hasn’t been spotted yet, he knows. For no sneers have been directed at him yet from the people around him.

Picking up his feet, he scurries between the masses, trying to gauge the relative mood of the vendors around him. Reading people has always been something that came naturally to him. He can know almost instantly whether he was going to be hit or just yelled at. The best outcome he can think of was to be completely ignored. He could work with that. Some even let him buy his needs without interference, as long as he made sure to pay at least double the price.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he tries to make himself look small, or more accurately smaller. Wishing for the umpteenth time that his features weren’t so recognizable. His spiky golden hair clashed horribly with the surrounding colors, the whisker marks etched into his skin only serving to make him stand out more.

Pulling up his hood, he burrows into the color of his jacket, trying his best to sink into himself.

The shop he decides to venture into is on the smaller side. Manned by a thin, wiry man. The clerk doesn't spot him immediately, and he counts that as a win, as it lets him pick out two apples in peace. He’s reaching for a tangerine when a hand clamps down on his shoulder. His body is pulled around so fast it almost makes him dizzy, making him drop one of the apples in his effort to keep himself upright.

“What the hell do ya think you’re doing brat?!” The exclamation is so loud it instantly draws a crowd. The words get stuck in his throat as he feels the stares being directed at his side.

“I- I was just p-picking what I wanted to buy-" His voice is scratchy from disuse, rough, and stuttering as he tries to explain.

"Don't lie to me boy, that dirty hood of yours ain't fooling no one." The bony hand comes up so fast he doesn't have time to flinch away as harsh fingers pull on his jacket, catching onto his hair roughly in the process of exposing his blond locks to the onlookers. "Freaks like you ain't welcome here. Don't think you can just come in and rob me." His voice gets louder with each word, making him shrink into himself even more.

By now, the crowd gathered around them had started to echo the vendor's words, throwing their own outraged exclamation in turn.

Dropping the remaining apple from his hold, he dashes out of the place, gaze trained on his ratty sandals the entire way. Tears of humiliation prickle at his blue eyes and he finds himself ready to burst.

He doesn’t notice the pair of steely dark eyes that follow his retreat, expression serious and stormy as he looks on.

The word ‘freak’ echoes in his mind, resounding over and over again like the sound of a broken record. A voice, one associated with big, meaty arms and disgusting breath barrels to the forefront of his thoughts. A suppressed memory he doesn’t know the origin of. The man’s features are blurry and fogged over, the only clarity comes from his mouth, as he spits out hateful, but familiar words.

His feet lead him to the forest as if on autopilot. He ducks under the branch coming his way on habit alone, jumping over the small stream and skidding across the rough dirt as he delves deeper into the greenery and foliage.

Soon enough he finds himself in front of a familiar lake. One he’s been frequenting for many months now.

Maybe he can catch himself a fish or two for dinner. He’s done it before, he recalls.

Remembers the first time he met the old man here, one of his first fond memories. Even if the man hadn’t shown him any similar sympathies after that night.

Kicking at a wayward rock, he settles onto the riverbank. Content to just sit and burrow into the warmth of his jacket, listening to the stream as it goes by before him.

Maybe he really was a freak.

Letting his body fall back, his back hits the grass beneath him. His eyes feeling heavier the longer he held his position. Maybe he could rest his eyes just a little while.

 

______________________________________

 

 

When he wakes up, the sun had already disappeared from the sky, and a cluster of dark clouds decorate the air above him in its stead. It takes him a moment to remember where he was and he shivers as his body registers the rising cold that permeates the atmosphere. His toe curl in a futile effort to chase some warmth as he rises from the ground.

His stomach rumbles loudly and he mourns the loss of opportunity. He doubts he’ll find any fish at this hour. Curling into himself as a strong wind rages by, he clutches at his middle and begins his trek back home.

Maybe he should’ve left half of the egg for tonight.

Drops of water start to rain down, marking the way for a heavier flow almost instantly after. Grumbling at his horrible luck, he hurries along the forest floor. Conscious of the slippery mud beneath his feet. If he falls down and hurts himself, no one will be there to look for him.

Loneliness creeps under his skin at the mere thought, sticking to him like the dirt underneath his fingernails.

After what feels like hours but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, he finally emerges from the green trail. The roads are empty except for a few running stragglers, trying to get home before the storm intensifies.

Water soaks him to the bone and the chill clings to his very being.

Previously, he’d made it a general rule not to wander Konoha’s streets at night. The drunken hollers he hears as he walks, coupled with the darkness that seems to slither into every nook and cranny, only serve to prove his assessment right.

Thankfully, the rain deters any malicious attempts on his person, small mercies he figures.

It’s as he’s crossing through the road leading to his neighborhood that he finds himself pausing.

A delicious smell wafts through the air, so strong it breaks through the prominent smell of wet wood and rain. His stomach grumbles louder than ever and he finds his feet subconsciously leading him toward the smell.

A small shop with the name ‘Ichiraku’ turns out to be the culprit. A tiny, shack-like hut that seems so comfortably warm and inviting.

His eyes squint at the orange light of the room. An old man stands inside, wiping down the counter and humming to a song Naruto has never heard before.

His stomach chooses to make itself known then, begging for attention. He feels his cheeks heat up despite the cold, as the man’s eyes rise and widens as they meet his own, embarrassed and panicked gaze.

Naruto doesn’t wait for the man to react. He knows what happens next, he doesn’t need another physical example. So, despite his entire being screaming at him to go inside and eat, he forces his body to move. Urging his feet to keep walking in the opposite direction.

He thinks he hears protests coming from inside the hut but chalks it up to his hunger-driven imagination.

By the time he makes it to his neighborhood, the rain has abated. Even if the icy cold air remains. He hopes that despite everything, he won’t get sick. His immune system has never betrayed him before, he hopes it doesn’t choose to do so now.

Walking up the stairs to his apartment fills him with relief. Although the hope for a hot shower is naïve, he at least can look forward to getting out of his soaked clothes.

What makes him pause, however, is the small package he finds resting on his doormat. His first instinct is to leave it there, hesitant to approach it at all. However, after a few seconds of inspection, his curiosity wins out and he finds himself crouching down and tentatively opening the paper bag. He ducks as he does so, as if expecting a kunai or a stray paper bomb to suddenly erupt out of its confines. When nothing happens, he hesitantly opens one eye, followed by the other a moment later.

Was this?

Feeling a strange sense of detachment, he pulls out the items from within their resting place. Eyes wide and mesmerized at the sight. Looking left and then right, he stuffs them back inside and hurries to unlock the door and dash inside. Frantic as he locks the door behind him, double and triple checking that all the locks are all in place.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, he slowly opens the bag back up, as if expecting this all to be some kind of trick.

Yet, despite all odds, the three apples and the two tangerines remain where he last saw them. As real as the tears that well up in his ocean eyes, spilling out for the first time today.

He feels the emotions he’s been stifling crash down on him as he slides down to the floor. Unbothered by the small puddle of rainwater that's slowly forming around his soaked form.

Was this real?

Taking a fragile hold of the red, so red it seems too real, apple, he brings it up to his face. A distant part of him, one he wants to stifle down and bury deep inside, wonders if it's poisoned. Maybe this was it, the point of no return. Maybe some villager has had it with their resident freak and decided to finally finish the job.

A larger part of him thinks that maybe it would be okay.

Before he can overthink it, he bites into the fruit, tearing up at the wonderful taste that explodes his taste buds. His mind wars with itself, torn between finishing the treat as fast as possible, lest it disappears. And hiding it away for safekeeping at a later date.

He resigns himself to eating only one for now. Knowing fully well that he might not find any other sustenance for a while.

Thanking whatever act of kindness he’s been subjected to, he resolves to take full advantage of it. If only he knew who did it, in order to thank them.

When his stomach settles and his nerves subside he finds that he feels lighter than before. He takes a shower and sleeps almost soundly that night.

Chapter 2: Flicker

The next day starts not unlike the last. Sweat gathers at the back of his neck, and the remnants of his nightmares cling onto him like a second skin.

His daily routine goes uninterrupted except for the second it takes him to reboot as he looks at the physical proof that yesterday’s find was not, in fact, a hallucination cooked up by his hunger-addled mind.

He cuts one of the two remaining apples in half and wraps the other one back up. After his small breakfast, he decides to venture out deeper into the village, he takes one of the tangerines along, knowing that he might stay out late. 

The park at this hour would be relatively quiet. He might even make some friends if he was discrete enough and avoided showing his face.

He’s setting himself up for failure but he can’t get himself to care.        

His clothes from the day before are still soaked, hanging from the shower pole where he left them to dry after washing them.

He’s tempted to go out in his sleepwear but thinks better of it. With reluctant movements, he steps outside and follows the path down the stairs to the first floor. Maybe the old lady will help him, after all.

The door is large, engulfing his size a couple of times over. Standing before it feels daunting in all kinds of ways. Raising a trembling hand, he gathers whatever courage he has and puts on a wide smile. It stretches his face strangely, distorting his features into something he’s wholly unfamiliar with. It feels fake and fragile but he musters the strength to keep it in place. He knocks once then another time after a beat for good measure. Now all the more subconscious of his ratty nightclothes and his ruffled hair.

A minute passes and he thinks that maybe this was a bad idea. The old lady was probably still sleeping and he wouldn’t want to disturb her. He’s turning back towards the hallway when the door finally opens.

A short, plump old woman greets him. Her eyes squinted in concentration as if the light is too bright. “Ah, hello dearie, what brings you to my humble doorstep?” She welcomes not unkindly. Her eyes still horribly squinted. “I’m sorry but I forgot my glasses inside, can I help you with something?”

He’s suddenly all too grateful for his luck as he elects not to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Ah, h-hello, Oba-san, I was wondering uhm- i-if-“

“Well, come on sonny, I won’t bite.” She coaxes gently, with a bit of mirth.

“Do you, maybe, have any clothes you want to get rid of, from your sons or grandsons?” The words spill out in a ramble and for a moment he’s afraid he might have to repeat himself. However, to his shocked delight, the woman seems to understand him instantly.  He’s barely finished speaking before she’s already hobbling back inside. She comes back a moment later with a small brown box. He immediately goes to help her with the load, despite the relative lightness of the object in question.

“You’re in luck, I was just about to get rid of these." She says as she hands them over. A small, wistful smile on her face as she stares out the railing into the streets beyond. "Is that all you needed, sonny?"

The endearment makes something inside of him clench and warm. Having never been addressed with such familiarity before. Her next words, however, make his blood freeze over.

"Do you live in the building? If I find any more items like these I could send them over with my son."

Torn between the urge to lie and the consequential guilt he’d feel, he resigns himself to his fate. “I- uh, yes, ma’am. I live upstairs.”

"Oh, alright dear, off you go now." She shoos him away, with a flapping hand, the smile, astonishingly still decorating her face. "I have some cats to feed and lunch to make." She must not know who lives above her, he concludes with no small amount of relief.

“A-alright, thank you very much.” He exclaims sincerely, bowing at the waist as the door closes behind her.

He feels a small, fragile smile form on his face. It’s the first genuine he musters.

 

____________________________

 

The clothes he has on are a little big, the blue shirt dwarfs his frame, the sleeve falling slightly off his shoulder as he walks. Thankfully, however, the pants fit him well, with the belt he found stashed inside the box.

He gained a couple of other shirts too. His worldly possessions have multiplied and he can't stop the giddy feeling he senses welling up in his chest.

The park isn't empty when he gets there. The delay in his little adventure made it impossible. He doesn't let that deter him though. He squares his shoulders and marches towards the only available swing on the playground. The moment he gets within a two-meter radius of the thing, the woman pushing her child back and forth hurries to clear the area.

Ignoring the urge to turn back and hide away in his apartment. He settles on the wooden plank. Small fingers wrap around the metal chains tightly. The warmth and giddiness are long forgotten by now. Replaced by the cold realization that he was not wanted here. What a surprise.

He doesn't know why it still gets to him. He should be used to it by now. He tries to push himself into motion but his feet don't quite reach the ground comfortably. He has to slide down a little to get a good enough kick in.

After a few failed attempts, he gives up, content to just hover a little and watch the activity around him.

Two boys are playing with a ball, one is clearly a couple of years older. Next to them, a few feet away rests a small sandbox where a little girl is building a tower. It’s a plan spelling disaster and Naruto elects to look away, or else he becomes a reluctant witness to the little girl’s tragic backstory.

His eyes rake over a group of kids chasing each other. He’s heard of the concept of tag but has never had the chance to join in on the supposed fun. He stifles the jealousy he feels rising to the surface, convincing himself that running around like that wouldn’t be very enjoyable anyway.

Something bumps against his leg and he looks down to see a small red ball.

Looking up he spots the two boys from earlier. The smaller one is approaching him, already wanting to resume their game. However, the moment he steps towards the swing, the older one stops him. A hand holding onto his arm almost desperately as he whispers fervently in his ear. His voice isn't exactly loud but it's not quiet either. Naruto can barely make out the words ‘Don’t’ “Mom said not to-‘among the white noise of the other occupants of the playground.

Already knowing the outcome of this encounter, he stands up, all too aware of the small flinch he receives from the older boy at the action. Sighing minutely, he walks away from the swings and towards the grass field a little ways away.

The relief in their figures is prominent even from this distance and he can’t quite stop the bitterness from festering in his chest.

The two don’t hesitate, after that, to retrieve their ball and resume their game. Sighing for what feels like the hundredth time today, he settles on the grass, his back resting against a giant pine tree. He closes his eyes in an attempt to shut out the world and calm himself down.

“That was strange.” A small voice speaks up from behind him, startling him out of his daze. “Are you sick or something?”

Turning his head toward the source of the voice, he's met with sharp, narrow brown eyes. He takes a moment to look over at the other boy. His spikey hair, tied into a tight ponytail betray his clan almost immediately. His stature is small, but he's a little bit taller than Naruto himself. Or at least he thinks he is, but he can't really tell from the way the boy is laying on the grass. He's obviously been napping out here for a little while, if the stray leaves stuck to his hair are of any indication. Ah, Naruto might've taken over an already occupied tree, it seems. Today was just full of missteps, wasn't it?

“You’re not contagious, are you?” The boy continues, his eyes studying him back just as thoroughly, despite the nonchalance he exudes.

“No, I’m not." He mumbles, body tense and limbs ready to get up at a moment's notice. "I'm not sick." He says again, more firmly.

“So they’re just idiots then, how troublesome." And just like that, the boy leans back from his half-crouch and falls back asleep. Naruto can only stare at him, feeling more than a little dumbfounded. 

It takes him a few minutes to realize that he hasn’t been kicked out of his resting place, nor was he ridiculed any further.

Feeling off-kilter, he tries to distract himself with something other than the boy sleeping a couple of steps away. 

His stomach gurgles and he looks up at the sky, confirming his suspicion as he looks at the sun’s position.

Taking out the fruit from his jacket pocket, he wipes it down and starts peeling it. He’s so focused on his task that he doesn’t notice the other boy shift beside him.

“Aw man, it’s already time for lunch. What a drag." Once again, the exclamation is so unexpected, it makes him jump. He almost loses his hold on the tangerine, if not for his relatively quick reflexes. Huffing out a relieved breath, he shifts his gaze toward the boy once more.

He hesitates then, looking at the boy in front of him, he’s suddenly reminded of his own hunger the day before. “Do you-“He starts but hesitates as brown eyes turn to meet his own with no hesitation. “Do you want some? T-tangerines, you know?” He finishes, determined to get the words out, despite the anxious speech pattern that pops up in his nervousness.

“Seriously? Cho-chan never shares with me.” He mutters to himself before looking back up at the blonde. “Are you sure?” He asks seriously.

In place of a response, Naruto just splits the tangerine in half and offers it to the boy. The latter stares at him for a long moment, enough to make him hesitate and think that maybe, he shouldn't have been too bold in his assumptions. However, the next time he looks back at his hand, it's one-half of a tangerine lighter. Blinking owlishly at the fruitless appendage, he settles back against the tree’s trunk. Did that really happen just now? Was his attempt at kindness actually, successfully received?

"Thanks." The kid says, still looking at him seriously, as if he was a problem that needed to be solved.

They go back to sitting in silence. The boy joining him against the tree this time.

The rest of the afternoon is spent similarly. Naruto eats his fruit, savoring it for as long as possible. He knows that he might regret giving half of it away later. When the last of his supplies dwindle and he feels the hunger start to gnaw at his insides again. Yet, he can’t bring himself to feel sad or second-guess his decision.

He doesn't want the evening to end. It's the longest anyone has ever sat with him before. However, the thought barely formulates in his mind when a voice calls out a short distance away.

“-maru!”

He doesn’t pay any mind to it at first, that is until the boy next to him straightens and perks up at the sound.

Naruto follows the voice until it leads him to a tall spikey haired man. The resemblance is uncanny. It leaves no doubt in his mind as to the relationship between the two Nara clan members. Something clenches in his chest at the sight. He wonders if there ever was anyone out there, who bore such a strong, uncontested resemblance to him. Maybe they had blue eyes like his own, and golden hair with whisker marks too. He’s interrupted from his musing when a figure steps into his field of vision, blocking his view of the Nara man.

“I’ve got to go, but uhh,” The boy hesitates, a hand sluggishly coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “Hanging out wasn’t too troublesome I guess.” When Naruto does nothing but stare, once again at a loss for words, the boy hurries to finish before running off. “See ya.”

It’s only when the boy is long gone that he realizes that he hadn’t gotten the boy’s name. Nor had he introduced himself.

So much for making his first kind-of, maybe friend.

______________________

 

The walk back to his apartment is peaceful, his hands sneak into his pockets as he walks, warding off the rising wind. He turns down the alley leading up to his building and stops short at the sight of a group of men blocking his way. He doesn't know why they are there, but their presence alone is enough to raise alarm bells in his head. Thankfully, they haven't spotted him yet. Taking slow, careful steps backward, he tries to slip away quietly. 'Try' is the regrettable keyword here.

His luck must’ve finally run out, for the moment he takes his first step back, his foot connects with a stray bottle. The glass hisses against the cement quietly as it rolls away, but the sound may as well have been a siren call this late in the evening. He should really stick to his rules more strictly.

Five heads turn to look at him in tandem and whatever hope that they might not be there for him, is squashed. The angry sneers that instantly twist their faces are enough of an indication.

Without missing a beat, he turns tail and runs in the opposite direction. Back out into the street. Shouts of outrage follow in his wake as he runs. His small legs hit the pavements in a frantic beat as he sprints.

The main street is crowded and if he was anyone else, he would’ve used it to his advantage. However, he couldn’t take the risk of even more people joining in on whatever this was. So he runs and he runs, ducking into different alleys and charging down dark passages.

To his mounting panic, he soon finds himself trapped at a dead end, blocked by a wired fence. He turns to trace back his steps and stops short as the five men burst into the mouth of the alley, blocking his only way out.

In one last-ditch effort to escape, he tries climbing the fence. The small holes are perfect for his small fingers, and for a moment he thinks he might succeed. However, the hope is crushed before it even has time to formulate as a hand roughly pulls at his shirt and he's thrown back onto the ground. Back scrapping against the dirt painfully, the breath momentarily knocked out of him.

“No more running away, you brat.” One of the men spits out, hand coming down to clench around Naruto’s shirt. Lifting his small body off the ground before he can even take a moment to breathe.

What was happening, what did they even want?

“Look at him, acting all innocent and scared!” Another buff, lump of a man, snarls, coming to stand next to the first one.

“Yeah, we know what you are, freak, so no use in pretending anymore!" Someone shouts from behind him and he feels the word fade to background noise. The word freak echoes in his ears as he feels his back being slammed into the fence.

“W-what do you w-want?" He manages to say between heaving breaths. Head swimming as his body is once again slammed backward, skull banging against the metal. His legs kick out uselessly to be released. His efforts are completely fruitless.

He doesn't notice the lights above the alley flickering dangerously.

“I want what belongs to me you thief!” The man holding him up sneers, his face coming way too close for comfort. “You insolent little brat had the nerve to steal from an innocent old woman!”

It takes him a moment to know what the man is talking about, but the moment the words register in his brain, he freezes. He should’ve known. Should’ve expected this. It was too good to be true.

"She gave them to me, I- I s-swear!" He tries to defend himself, already knowing it was futile to argue but not ready to give up just yet.

“Don’t even talk about her you freak!” The hand holding him up pull at his shirt while another sneaks up behind to hold him against the fence. The fabric stretches and scrapes his skin raw until finally, it tears. He feels himself falling a moment later. Cold, hard asphalt meets his bare back as the shirt dangles from his attacker’s fingers.

Seemingly satisfied, the man turns around and walks away. His momentary relief is short-lived as his final words register to his ears. "Teach him a lesson, boys." His vision swims and he feels light-headed. The first kick that connects with his stomach makes him fold in on himself. Falling face-first into the dirt.

He braces himself for the next hits, hands coming up to guard his head. His efforts are rendered useless as two arms wrench his hands back and away so violently, he's sure that one of his shoulders gets dislocated.

The kick that connects with his head makes his world darken. Agonizing pain erupts from behind his eyelids, a rising heat resounding through his skull, rattling his brain. Visions, flashes of memories that are not his own, emerging from a depth he hadn't even known existed within the canvas of his mind.

The onslaught of information he gets is so vast and disorienting, he finds himself arching up, a scream getting lodged in his throat before it can escape past his bleeding lips.

The lamp above them flickers violently and explodes as he does so. Plunging the alleyway in darkness.

“What the hell.” A voice mutters, Naruto doesn’t have the awareness to keep track anymore.

“H-hey, maybe we’ve done enough.” Someone else says nervously. “Let’s just go.”

 “We should just kill the brat and do everyone a favor.” The man’s words are punctuated by a kick to the boy’s side. Sending him rolling onto his back. Naruto’s eyes are clenched closed, moving ceaselessly beneath his eyelids.

“What you should do is step away from the boy.” A sharp, low voice drawls from the darkness. “Now.”

The voice is the last thing Naruto hears before his body finally gives out. Falling into a familiar darkness.

 

 

Chapter 3: Of wills or lack there of

When Shisui asked his best friend to hang out with him, admittedly under the pretense of patrolling the village. He wasn't expecting the latter's response to be anything but a hard no.

He was once again surprised when Itachi, not only agreed to his spontaneous request, but actually went to the length of suggesting a patrol route.

Really, he should’ve known right then, that something wasn’t quite right with his friend.

The neighborhood the pre-teen had chosen was in the red-light district. One of Konoha’s most neglected parts.

Even so, the night had been relatively calm. Except for the occasional drunken mishap, their patrol had been almost peaceful.

The sun had long since gone down when they finally decided to rest up in one of the local tea shops.

With the warm beverage held comfortably between his hands, he took a moment to look over his silent companion. Itachi had been extra quiet tonight, even more so than usual.

His mind was clearly elsewhere as he fiddled with the handle of his mug, eyes darting around the space as if searching for unseen threats.

“So,” He started lowly, breaking the relative silence that had settled between them, “Are you gonna tell me what’s been going through that twisted mind of yours?" He goaded, knowing that the other boy would rather drive himself crazy than actively reach out to anyone else.

“I don’t know what you mean.” The prodigy answered calmly, facade as resilient as ever.

“Right, of course.” He sighed, leaning back into his seat, his arms crossing over his chest. “I suppose you also wouldn’t know anything about the package I saw you holding yesterday while walking to this area.”

If he hadn’t been so well-versed in Itachi’s brand of body language, he would’ve missed the minute flinch overtaking the boy’s body at his words. It seemed that he was right in making the connection.

“You followed me?”

Huffing at the indignant lift of his friend’s eyebrows, he shook his head. “Nah, I was just out on an errand when I spotted you, but I don’t know where you went.”

That seemed to mollify the other boy, his expression smoothing back into his usual neutral mask.

Itachi opened his mouth, starting what Shisui expected to be a particularly interesting tale when two patrons walked into the shop.

After a quick slide of his eyes, he immediately dismissed them as none-threats, attention shifting back to the boy in front of him. Itachi however, was still wholly focused on the two newcomers.

“That freak is always running around, barreling into everyone.” The first one, a middle-aged man, was muttering to the woman next to him.

“Yes, well, what else do you expect when Lord Third lets that thing run wild.”

“Maybe this time it’ll finally learn its lesson, did you see them running after it?”

It took him a moment to understand just who it was the two civilians were muttering about. His blood boiled at the implications behind their gossip. 'It', they had said, as if they were discussing some kind of rabid animal.

“Hey, maybe we should-“ He was going to suggest checking in on the kid but when he turned back around, Itachi was already out of his seat, the door to the establishment swinging behind him.

“How rude!” The woman shouted as they both barreled past her, not bothering to excuse themselves.

 

_____________________________

 

Itachi runs, mind reeling with a hundred different scenarios he could be getting into. Anger simmers in his veins, sharingan blazing red as he charged across the rooftops towards the boy’s house.

Dread had been twisting his insides all day, a constant sense of unrest plaguing his thoughts as he remembered the look of utter defeat on the child’s face.

The boy had been so small, hunched in on himself as he was kicked out for merely wanting to buy himself food.

Fury ignited within him as he imagined his own little brother facing such hardships.

His eyes caught onto something while jumping across an alley and he skidded to a halt. His gaze hardened at the scene playing out before him. He doesn't think he's ever been this emotional before. "What you should do is step away from the boy." He says, vision tunneling to red. "Now."

He kicks away the man holding Naruto down, putting himself bodily in between the boy and his attackers. A kid, he reminds himself. A child no older than his little brother.

He doesn’t know what he does next, the fight, if you can even call it that, is a complete blur, his mind entirely focused on the tiny child that’s curled up on the ground, as if trying to hide himself away from the world.

 

_________________________

 

When Shisui finally caught up to his wayward friend, it was to an alley plunged in total darkness.

Five bodies lay motionless on the ground, either unconscious or dead, not that Shisui took the time to check. His eyes were, instead, trained solely on his companion. Itachi was holding onto something tightly, the shape was too hazy in the darkness.

“Is he okay?“ He asked, spotting the slight trembling in Itachi’s hands.

“He’s hurt. I need you to take them in for questioning.”

“Are they-“

"They're alive." The only time he's ever heard Itachi’s voice sound this cold was when his little brother’s well-being was involved. It never failed to make the hair on his arms stand on end. “I need to-“

“Go, I’ll take care of everything here.” Itachi nodded his head once, gratitude evident only to Shisui as he ran passed him. In the dim moonlight, he could see a glimpse of blood and golden hair, before the two disappeared in a whirl of motion.

A groan interrupted his worried musing, and he shifted to crouch next to one of the men responsible for this. “You better hope he gets out of this okay.” He hissed before kicking the man in question, he didn’t need them to be conscious until he got them all wrapped up, nice and pretty for the Hokage.

 

___________________________________

 

The last thing Hiruzen Sarutobi expected, was for one of his Jonin to barge into his office just as he was getting ready to go home for the night.

The boy had a stormy look engulfing his features, twisting his usual smiling face into a scowl as he dropped what Sarutobi counted as five unconscious grown men, all tied together. As if he were merely presenting him with an offering.

“What is the meaning of this?” He intoned, knowing that the ninja wasn’t known for shows of disrespect such as this one.

“Hokage-sama, these civilians were found attacking Naruto Uzumaki near his apartment by Itachi Uchiha and myself," Shisui reported seriously. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back as he stood straight, gaze never wavering from his superior.

“Naruto? Is he alright?” The old man asked, suddenly feeling his age. He didn’t even need to ask why they were doing so. Already well aware of the contempt the villagers foolishly held against the small child. “Was he injured?”

“Itachi took him to the hospital, he was beaten up and bleeding last I saw him. I do not know the extent of his injuries.”

With a sleight of hand, the Anbu guard assigned to his office was signaled. “Summon Uchiha Itachi to my office.” He ordered quietly, satisfied when the chakra signature disappeared momentarily before reappearing.

Raking a hand over his face, he sat down heavily in his chair, having not noticed himself standing up in the first place.

His mind whirred with the possible repercussions of this event. He knew he needed to take charge before things got out of hand. With another signal of his hand, the Anbu guard shunshined into the room. "Take these men and have them detained and charged. Do not inform anyone, and I mean anyone at all of the identity of their victim." The masked Anbu guard nodded once before disappearing, this time with the five men in tow.

A knock sounded at the door a moment later. Itachi entered the room, posture tense and strung out.

“Thank you for coming, Itachi-kun. It seems thanks are in order for saving our village Jinchuriki." It seems he picked his words wrong if the way the boy seemed to tense further was of any indication. "Nevertheless, I called you here for a reason." He began, knowing that what he had to say was, regrettably unavoidable. "I need you both to make sure that tonight's events remain hidden from the public. The only people who are to be involved are those directly related to the incident. I will be speaking with the hospital staff in charge of Naruto-kun’s case personally. Am I understood?”

All at once, the room's temperature seemed to drop. The tension rises in the very air around them like static. The source of the disturbance was unquestionable. "You disagree with my decision." He stated, already knowing the answer. "Speak freely."

Itachi remained silent for a moment, his expression not betraying any of his feelings. "How are you going to prevent this event from repeating itself, if you do not make an example of these men?" He asked, his voice calm despite the icy tone.

“I’m afraid that given the circumstances, incidents like this one were bound to happen. The villagers, despite my best attempts at discouraging their irrational hatred, are adamant in their views” He responded solemnly, his expression betraying the helplessness he held in the situation. “I may be Hokage, but I cannot control every citizen’s personal feelings and opinions.”

“So, the kid’s situation will remain as it is?” Shisui asked, talking for the first time since Itachi stepped into the room.

Seeing the tension persisting, the calm fury only solidifying, Sarutobi was suddenly hit with the perfect solution.

"You both feel very strongly about this." His eyes assessed his subordinates carefully. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, he spoke. "Very well," His voice took on a tone that made the occupants of the room straighten their spines, ready for orders. It was, as his people liked to refer to it, his Hokage voice. “From this moment forward, until told otherwise, Chunin Uchiha Itachi and Jonin Uchiha Shisui, I give you the authorization to interact with the Junchuriki known as Naruto Uzumaki and act if ever he is ever in need of protection." His gaze raked over them, assessing. "However, if you are to do this, none of your missions can be affected, your priority and loyalty remain with the village. Do you accept this mission?

“Yes sir.” The ninjas knelt, no hesitation in their response.

 

__________________________________

 

For the entirety of the week that follows, Itachi feels as though he’s holding his breath. The med-nin in charge of Naruto’s case had assured him that from a health standpoint, the boy was recovering well and should have regained consciousness days ago. Nonetheless, Naruto had, to the frustration and worry of the doctors, shown no sign of waking up.

To his rising worry, his body kept falling into strange, unexpected seizures. They were even contemplating sending for a Yamanaka for a mind sweep, to check and see what was going on in the boy’s mind to cause the occurrences in question.

He's currently perched outside the boy's window when a familiar chakra signature appears next to him. "Are you seriously going to wait all the way out here?" Shisui asks, exasperation and well-concealed worry tinging his tone.

“Our mission is to guard him. I am… guarding.” At the deadpan look he receives, he turns away, gaze trained stubbornly on their surroundings.

“Are you really okay with letting the kid wake up all alone?” That was a low blow, Shisui knew. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty about it. Knowing his best friend needed to hear it. “Protecting sometimes means being there for him, you know.”

When he gets no outward response, Shisui sighs and decides to take this up again at a later time. He looks back at the hospital bed, spotting the small form laying on the bed. He hoped the kid would wake up soon.

 

__________________________________

 

Waking up, the light shines brightly pushing into Naruto’s eyelids heavily. They flutter and squint, an already losing battle. Through the blurriness, the first thing Naruto notices are the clean, pristine white tiles decorating the ceiling above him. The jarring difference in the setting makes the world snap into focus around him.

The sharp, distinct smell of antiseptics and unnatural cleanness aren’t unhelpful in recognizing where exactly he was.

His head aches, skull throbbing. It feels almost like the time he took a bludger to the head while playing quidditch and- the thought makes him pause as if reaching a metaphorical standstill, his thought process just stops. As if icy water trickles down his spine, he suddenly feels wide awake. Going back over the words in his head, he realizes that yes, he abruptly has access to a whole set of memories that couldn't- shouldn't belong to him.

He remembers walking home after meeting the Nara kid, and recalls getting chased and attacked by who he figured was his neighbor's son. However, when he scours his mind, he finds memories that, for all intents and purposes weren't his own. At least, not in this lifetime.

His mind reels at the thought.

Had he been reincarnated? Two sets of personalities and memories war with each other for dominance, creating a paradox in his own brain. Was he Naruto Uzumaki, or was he Harry James Potter? Was he somehow, both?

Suddenly, all the peculiarities he’s noticed over the years make so much more sense.

His fingers clench the sheets of his hospital bed tightly, creasing the fabric and most likely wrinkling it horribly.

Distantly, he wonders why he was even still alive. Was fighting one war not enough? Did the universe have to reincarnate him as a lonely orphan, destined to be, once again, all alone? Shunned and hated. Feared and looked down upon.

Trying to focus on his newfound foreign memories -and that was exactly what they were; 'foreign'- he finds that bits and pieces are missing. Like the lost parts of a puzzle or the discarded shards of a broken mirror, his thoughts are scattered and lost.

He doesn't remember dying, he realizes. He figures it's his mind's way of protecting itself from the trauma.

Despite having several recollections pertaining to a seventeen-year-old, he feels his current age. His brain is that of a five, going on to six-year-old. Admittedly, one with a lot of experiences to draw from, but a five-year-old nonetheless.

What the hell happened to him? To his friend? Were they still alive, somewhere? Or was he reincarnated in a completely different reality?

The knowledge he has from this world tells him that yes, he was nowhere near the twentieth century of modern England.

All of a sudden, he feels all too aware of just how alone and helpless he was.

He tries to reach for his magic, the only reliable constant in his life, only to stop short. He knows it's there, can feel it, shifting just out of reach. Try as hard as he might, it just slipped away.

His body, he concludes with no small amount of despair, was not ready yet. Was this why children began attending Hogwarts at eleven? Wands weren't even a thing here, would he ever be able to use his magic like he used to?

Wandless magic, he remembers, was incredibly difficult, but not impossible. But what about chakra? Would the chakra pathways interfere with his magical core? Were they related or intertwined now that he had both?

He supposes solemnly, that he wouldn’t know until he was trained in both.

Was this why everyone feared him? Was this why they looked at him like an outsider? Did they somehow know he was different? That he wasn’t normal like them? They called him a monster, a freak. Were they like the Dursleys? Did they somehow instinctively hate wizards and magic users?

His mind whirred and buzzed with a thousand different questions and thoughts. Falling deeper into a bizarre sense of detachment as he analyzed and went through the information warring inside his mind.

Too engulfed in his thought process, he didn't notice the door to his room open to let in two people, nor did he hear his name being called out repeatedly by said newcomers.

A warm hand clamped down on his shoulder and he jumped, flinching away as he got startled out of his reverie.

It took him a moment to hear over the loud beating of his heart, only now recognizing one of the people standing in front of him.

“Naruto, my boy, are you feeling alright?” For a second, the face of the third Hokage merges with the ghost of the long departed. Flashes of a too-long white beard and an easy deceptive smile overtook the old man's features before disappearing like smoke. "You were unconscious for quite a while."

“Hokage-sama." He whispers, voice feeling as rough as sandpaper against his throat. The old man's eyes widen at the formal address, being used to much more familiarity from the child.

Contrary to Hermione's beliefs, however, he learns from his mistakes. He would not let himself be manipulated again. "What happened?" He asks, trying to calm down despite his overwhelming urge to burrow into his sheets and disappear.

“I’m afraid you were attacked, my boy.” The Hokage explains gently in turn, "The people responsible have all been detained for punishment. They will not harm you again." He finishes with confidence.

It wasn’t exactly reassuring, though, knowing that even with five down, there was an entire village of people who could still hurt him.

"Why do they hate me so much?" Feeling extremely vulnerable, he looks up for the first time during their conversation. To his horror and rising embarrassment, his voice cracks, a sob catching in his throat despite his best effort at remaining composed.

The teen who had walked in with the Hokage took an aborted step forward, as if wanting to reach out.

"As you have, lamentably witnessed, some people hold darkness within them Naruto-kun. Sometimes their actions cannot be rationally explained. That does not mean that the fault lies with anyone in particular. For we each hold both good and bad within ourselves." The explanation seemed to physically pain him to utter. As if he was holding himself back from revealing something grand and all-encompassing. His words are also a horrible echo of words he's heard before, long ago.

"You're lying to me. These men, even the people of the village, all hate me. It's not just them. W-what did I do? Why do they hate me?" His fingers were clenched so tight he could feel his nails digging into his sensitive palm. "You're hiding something." He continued, aware of the furrowing of the man's brows and the slight panic overtaking his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to care. "Why won't you tell me the truth Oji-san." His old nicknames bleed through his words as he looks at the older man, wordlessly pleading, begging for him to explain.

“I promise you, Naruto-kun, I will tell you everything you need to know when you’re older. You are not ready for the entire truth yet.” His words bore no room for argument. No place for disagreement or protest.

“When?” He asked quietly, already knowing what his answer would be.

“When you graduate the academy and become a Genin." And there it was, the plans and path this world had chosen for him.

“W-what if I don’t want to?” What if he wanted to choose his own path for once in both his lives? What if he wanted to forge his own way?

“You will.” Was the solemn response. He learned then and there, that even the Hokage, was bound to the rules of the village and its higher power.

They were all helpless, in the end.

 

 

 

 

Notes:

Tell me what you think!

Chapter 4

Shusui’s nails dig into his palm, knuckles turning white with pressure as he tries to calm down. He had wanted to intervene, had wanted to put himself bodily in between the little boy and his Hokage. Because how dare the man manipulate a kid, a child no older than six, like that. Treating him as nothing more than an asset to the village, ready to be handled and controlled as they pleased. He’d seen the resignation in the kid’s eyes as Sarutobi left him no room to argue against his destined and chosen future. It made him sick, the mere thought of someone having no freedom, no sense of free will.

When the older man finally took his leave, closing the door of the hospital behind him, Shisui took the chance to approach the boy. Fingers relaxing, he took a tentative step toward the hospital bed. "Hey there, I'm sorry for not introducing myself earlier, I’m Shisui Uchiha, I’m sorry this happened to you.”

Vivid blue eyes, holding something far older than they should, turned to look at him directly for the first time since they stepped into the room. Ocean-like orbs softened slightly as they regarded him. "I'm Ha-“ He hesitated for a moment before correcting himself. “N-Naruto Uzumaki, b-but you probably already knew that, I guess.” He mumbled, looking back down at the sheets covering the lower half of his body.

“It’s nice to meet you Naruto-chan.” The honorific portrayed his playful tone as he regarded the boy with a small smile, marveling at the maturity of the young kid in front of him. “Oh, and you should know, the scaredy-cat sulking outside is Itachi Uchiha, he’s the one who saved you.” He watched with amusement as Naruto's head tilted in confusion before turning towards the door as if expecting something to pop out of it if he focused on it long enough.

Instead, the light breeze originating from the window intensified for a moment and Itachi shunshined in, making the boy's head whirl to face the newcomer.

Itachi, as Shisui-san called him, was a little shorter than the Jonin. Long dark hair tied into a loose low ponytail reached a little over the middle of his back, a few strands escaping to frame his face. His eyes are averted, studying the corner of the room as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “You were there too.” The Uchiha mutters with a voice so soft Naruto almost misses it. Shisui smirks at the barely concealed pout on his friend’s face, marching towards him with purpose.

Naruto watches, a little fascinated and all the more confused as Itachi dodges the arm coming up to rest on his shoulder, his movements are swift and elegant as he evades the metaphorical attack to his person.

“Thank you for saving me.” He finds himself saying instinctively, but with no less sincerity. “Both of you.” He bows while doing so, well, as much as he can while sitting on a hospital bed. The sling holding his shoulder digs into his stomach and he does his best to appear unfazed. Shisui is there almost immediately, coaxing him back into his original position with his back against the wall. Muttering about health and recovery.

“It’s what anyone would’ve done.” Itachi says seriously, addressing directly for the first time, as if it's the easiest thing in the world, to be kind.

“It’s really not.” Naruto mutters to himself, voice low. Despite his efforts for his words to remain unheard, the way the two occupants of the room tense, he figures they heard him nonetheless.

To his mortification, his stomach chooses that moment to make itself known, the sound echoes in the silence that had settled, breaking the tension.

“Oh shoot!” Shisui exclaims suddenly, one fist coming up to hit his open palm. “You must be starving! Here, let me get one of the nurses to get you something!” One moment he’s there, the next he’s gone, a door clicking shut behind him. Naruto can only blink numbly at the whirlwind that is apparently, Shisui Uchiha.

“Shisui is a little overwhelming, but he means well.” Itachi speaks sagely, his eyes squinted in what Naruto thinks is his version of a soft smile.

He barely knows the man, in fact, the boy was no more than a stranger to him. And yet, as he’s left in a room alone with him, he finds that he is strangely calm and relaxed in the other’s presence.

“Y-yeah…” When the silence starts to take on an award lilt, he tries to convey his gratitude once more. “A-and thank you again, for-uh you know, saving me. They probably would’ve killed me, if you hadn’t intervened.”

“There is no need to thank me.” The ninja replies easily, taking one step forward, back straightening almost imperceptibly. “It’s my job to protect you.”

“Is it?” Naruto asks, curious and a little reluctant to find out the answer.

“It is now.” And he understands now. He can’t help the pang of disappointment and hurt that resounds within him.

“You don’t have to.” He starts, suddenly feeling a little confrontational, some of his old personality traits bleeding through. “I can take care of myself.” He’s been doing for as long as he could remember. In both of his lives.

The door bangs open, the resounding thud of the wood makes Naruto jump. “I got food!” Shisui declares, grinning while holding up two plastic bags filled to the brim. A signature mark is etched into both of them, one Naruto is familiar with. “The food here was inedible, I swear, they should really get themselves a new chef.” He grumbles, a forced smile etched onto his face. “I knew I had to save you from the horror, so I brought you Ichiraku ramen!" The teen's tone tells a different story, Naruto can already guess what really happened. He's surprised the staff even agreed to treat him, he figures they won't be as agreeable now that the Hokage wasn’t here to order their cooperation. From the look in Itachi’s eyes, he’s realized it as well.

The familiar mouthwatering smell wafting from the takeout bags erases any hesitation he has and he decides not to call the other boy out on his lie.

They eat in comfortable silence

       __________________________________

 

It doesn’t take long for Naruto to be discharged. The doctor comes to talk to him later that very night, a little while after the Uchiha pair leave. He mutters about wasted spaces. Wearing a porcelain smile as he kicks Naruto out of his recovery bed.

In a prime example of pettiness, Naruto takes his time clearing out of the room. His body aches as he moves, but he's pleasantly surprised at his ability to do so at all. His healing rate was abnormally high and he wonders if everyone in this world had a similar recovery rate. He hoped it wasn't another thing that set him apart from the mass.

He walks out of the hospital, cheek, and nose reddening from the cold air that hits his face. The doctor had let him keep the shirt, having been found wearing the ripped remains of his old one. The thin fabric does nothing to ward off the icy wind as he makes the trek back to his apartment.

The only upside is the leftovers he managed to sneak out. He’d squirreled a little of his ramen away, intent on saving it for later. The bag hangs from his elbow as he stuffs his hands in his pockets, clenching them and unclenching them periodically to get his blood flowing. A shadow shifts behind him and his paranoia skyrockets, suddenly feeling a little too exposed as he walks down the main streets.

Would he get attacked again if he kept walking out in the open like this? With the combination of both Potter and Uzumaki luck, he wouldn't be that surprised. He's about to duck into an alley to get to one of the lesser-known shortcuts when a figure emerges in front of him, blocking his way.

Itachi’s gaze is sharp as he regards him, giving him a moment to calm down his racing heart. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.” He says calmly, stepping up to stand closer, in front of him. “What are you doing out of the hospital. You should be resting.” The boy admonishes, reminding him momentarily of Mrs Weasly, he shudders despite the warmth the memory brings him.

“I was discharged.” He explains, voice steady as he resumes his walk. His toes were starting to go numb from the cold.

Itachi takes a moment to follow, his eyes bore into his back as they walk. “I’ll inform the Hokage, they should know better than to-“

“Don’t bother.” He says, suddenly feeling very tired. “Sorry,” He sighs. Itachi was only trying to help and he was being rude. “It’s just that telling him won’t change anything, and really, I’m fine, I just wanna go home.”

I takes the other boy a moment, but eventually he nods, “Alright.” He says, sounding contrite despite the agreement.

“Thanks.” Naruto mutters, resuming his walk. His confusion grows as the boy continues to follow him home. “Do you need something Uchiha-san?”

“I’m walking you home.” The Uchiha replies simply, as if that explained everything.

“Okay… but why?” He remembers then the conversation they were having a little earlier that day. “I can walk home alone, I don’t need you to protect me all the time.” He mutters, kicking a rock out of the way, glad to see his apartment nearing.

“If you wish, I could follow from a distance if it would make you more comfortable.”

“That’s not-“He mentally face palms. “Whatever, do what you want.” He concedes, too tired to argue at the moment.

To his mounting incredulity, Itachi even goes as far as to take the bag he’s holding into his own arm. As if it was the epitome of heaviness.

Naruto can only shake his head in resignation as they march on.

When they turn the corner to his building, he finds himself unwillingly pausing. Mind suddenly conjuring images of that night.

He was Harry Potter damnit, something so trivial shouldn’t be affecting him this much. A hand on his shoulder startles him and he whirls around to face his companion. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah.” He hurries to say, willing his legs to move forward. He’s suddenly grateful for the other’s intrusion as he walks up the stairs to the second floor. “Thanks.”

When they get to the door, Naruto doesn’t hesitate to get his key from behind a potted plant, knowing that if he wanted to, then ninja could find other ways to get in anyway.

He’s halfway through toeing off his sandals when he notices that Itachi hasn’t stepped through the door’s threshold yet.

The thirteen-year-old remains standing outside, gaze patient and unhurried. The realization that the boy won’t come in until he is given express permission to hits him harder than it should have. He’s abruptly all too aware of the dangerous feelings of safety he’s beginning to associate with the older boy.

“You can come in if you want to.” He mumbles, suddenly all too aware of the fraying wallpaper and splintering wooden boards. The large space he’s associated with his home all of a sudden feels too small, too stifling.

Itachi mirrors his movements as he takes off his shoes, slotting them next to each other neatly with care. He follows Naruto to the kitchen dutifully, still holding onto the leftover take-out bag.

Before Naruto can stop him, the boy is opening the fridge, intent on putting away the food.

Abruptly, the boy who lived finds the stitched hem of his shirt very interesting, he thinks he might even make it one of his regular shirts-

“Naruto-kun.” Itachi’s voice is gentle as he calls out to him, as if talking to a scared child. And distantly, he supposes that was exactly what he was.

His earlier reaction proved that despite his memories and past experiences, his mental state remained that of a five-year-old.

Hesitant blue eyes look up, shifting from the rotten apple held in between pale, thin fingers and the dark eyes staring into his own. He waits for it, an admonishment on taking care of himself, or maybe the assumption that he was too lazy to do so. He even prepares a speech explaining how he planned on buying his groceries just before the incident but-

“Please allow me to help you from now on.”

“H-help me?” He asks numbly, not quite understanding what was happening.”

“Yes, for example, I could bring you your groceries.” The boy says matter-of-factly.

“How do you-“

“I saw you, that day, at the market.” Itachi interrupts gently. It takes a moment to understand what he was talking about, the realization hits him hard.

“It was you…! Why are you doing this?” He finds himself asking, suddenly feeling more than a little overwhelmed. “Why are you being so nice to me? You should hate me.” He continues a little desperately. “All the others do. So why don’t you?” Did he want something from him? Was that it? Or did he think it was part of his mission. “You don’t have to do all this, you could just take up a few patrols around the district and be done with it.”

The silence that follows his tirade is too loud. The peaceful night air only serves to emphasize the emptiness left by his words.

“I’m not offering this because of my mission Naruto-kun.” The Uchiha says after a moment, speaking slowly, voice firm and louder than ever spoken before. As if trying to make his next words as clear as possible. “I don’t hate you, you have never wronged me or anyone else for that matter. I am doing this because you…” He falters as if searching for the write words to convey his feelings. “You deserve kindness, Naruto.” He says as if it’s not an earthshattering thing, to contradict everything Naruto has ever known in this life.

Tears, unbidden and inexorable trail from his wide eyes, blurring his vision almost completely as the feelings he’s been suppressing suddenly burst out into the open. He doesn’t sob, nor does he break down, and yet it feels like he’s screaming out deep within him.

That night, he lets himself feel, and for the first time, he's not alone as he does so.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5

The light shines almost tentatively through the curtains as if the sun itself had been reluctant to rise through the clouds that marred the sky. Naruto bustles around the kitchen, knowing that given the last few week's routine, he should be expecting a knock right about-

As if on clockwork, two small knocks ring out through the door into his tiny apartment.

It wasn't a surprise to Naruto, however, given that Itachi had been delivering him groceries every three days for two weeks now. It somehow never failed to make him feel unequivocally grateful and infuriated at the same time. The two feelings warred together, a contradiction that persisted and stuck with him for the rest of his day.

His neck prickles and he knows he’s being watched.

Huffing in exasperation he mumbles a sincere thank you before shuffling back into his kitchen. It would seem that if he wanted things to change, he would have to make it happen himself. Pulling his sleeves up to his elbows, he kicked the stool until it slid under the stove and got to work.

His movements were methodical and familiar as he turned the burner, pouring ingredient after ingredient without conscious thought. It was only three-quarters through the recipe that he realized that what he was cooking was not something anyone in the elemental countries had probably heard about. His chest ached at the smell of Mrs. Weasly’s signature family recipe.

He remembers the day she called him out into the kitchen, intent on teaching it to him, knowing that none of her older children would be any good at it.

Blinking back the prickling at the back of his eyes, he shook his head, as if trying to forcibly get rid of the memory. He couldn't help but wonder if Ron and Hermione were somehow still out there, somewhere, in a different universe, getting on with their lives. He hoped so.

He doesn’t remember his death but he had a pretty good idea of what happened, given the events that preceded it. Those, he remembered vividly.

Stirring the porridge, he climbed back down, taking three plates out of his cupboard. They were mismatched and cracked in a couple of places. An unavoidable consequence of scavenging for utilities outside of stores and marketplaces.

Deciding that it wouldn’t matter much to his intended guests, he turned to set the rest of the table.

Gathering whatever courage his Gryffindor soul possessed, he inhaled and spoke out loud. Louder than probably necessary, not that he cared much.

“I know your there,” He started, feeling a little dumb as the silence remained. “S-so you might as well come out and join.” He persevered, knowing that it had to be done, if only for his sanity. “You too Shisui!”

To his satisfaction, something outside his windowsill shifted, as if whoever was out there got startled.

When a beat passed by and nothing happened, he couldn’t stop the disappointment from pooling in his guts. Maybe, they just didn’t want to interact with him. It was just a mission after all. Protecting him did not entail ever interacting with him. Getting him groceries because he couldn’t do it himself was already going overboard.

He was really pathetic, wasn’t he?

Sighing dejectedly, he stacked the two extra plates back up, fingers trembling as he turned to put them back.

“Oi, what are you doing with those?” A voice startled him, making him drop the plates just as he was climbing the stool to reach the cupboard. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable screech of broken ceramic but nothing happened.

Opening one eye reluctantly, he was faced with Itachi-san’s dark, serious eyes. The pre-teen was looking at him with something akin to worry as he stood up from his crouch, plates held safely in his grasp.

“Sorry...” Shisui offered, hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Wait!” He exclaimed, having a sudden epiphany. “Does this mean you don’t want us to eat with you?” If Naruto didn’t know better, he would’ve thought there was a hint of sadness in the older boy’s voice. It couldn’t be though, surely not. “It smells so good though, can’t we stay for a bite?”

“Don’t pressure him, Shisui.” Itachi reprimanded softly.

Shisui opened his mouth to argue but was cut off by Naruto’s low, hesitant voice. “Its fine, you don’t have to pretend, I know you guys have better things to do. You don’t have to stay, I-“He faltered slightly before continuing, “I can put them in containers for you to take with you if you’re hungry. I made enough for three.”

“Hey, what do you mean pretend?” Shisui asked, walking until he was standing next to Itachi, facing him. Naruto clenched his fingers tightly before letting go after a breath.

“Look, I know you’re doing this because the Hokage ordered it, so you don't have to act like it's something more than what it is. It's a- a mission, just a mission. So, you don't have to watch me all the time, or- or get me groceries and talk to me at all." He busied himself with getting one container from the shelf, turning to scour the cabinet for any other plastic box he could use to give to the other. He really didn't want to see the inevitable relief that would wash over their features. He’d given them both an out, now, all they had to do was take it.

“Naruto,” Shisui’s voice was hard as he spoke, the lack of endearment made Naruto pause, knowing that the older boy was serious.

Hesitantly looking back to meet the other’s gaze, he was disconcerted at the grave expression on his face. Up until that moment, he’d never seen the Uchiha’s face hold anything but a smile.

“If we didn’t want to be here, we wouldn’t be.” He continued, enunciating each word carefully, as if to make sure Naruto would understand.

“But the Hokage-“

"Only permitted us to protect you if you were ever in danger. And only because we were adamant.” Itachi finished. Crouching in front of him, movements slow as if he were approaching a wounded animal. “And we already talked about this, didn’t we?” Shrinking in on himself, suddenly feeling his age, Naruto nodded hesitantly. “I know we don’t know each other well yet, and we know that trust isn’t something freely given, but could you, perhaps, give us a chance to prove ourselves?”

“O-okay, I- I’m sorry.” He mumbled, uncomfortable with the stiffness gathered within their small circle.

“It’s alright Naru-chan, you can make it up to us with food.” The older Uchiha said seriously, breaking the tension once again.

“O-of course!” Feeling lighter the before, he hurried to take the plates back from Itachi, setting them back to their rightful place on the table.

The chairs were small, meant for someone just slightly bigger than the five-year-old, but the two didn't seem to mind, as they squeezed onto their seats, waiting patiently for Naruto to serve them their food.

“Itadakimasu’’ Warmth pooled in his chest at the words, having always wanted to say that in the presence of someone else.

“This is so good!” Shisui exclaimed, making exaggerated motions with is arms, “Who taught you to cook Naru-chan?”

“N-no one.” He answered reluctantly, remembering the countless trial and errors at the Dursleys’. Recalling the many nights spent nursing tiny burnt hands and injured fingers. He’d learned the dangers of a kitchen the hard way. If he concentrates, he can still hear Aunt Petunia’s shrill voice echoing in his ears, yelling at him for ruining breakfast or spoiling their lunch. “It was either that, or starve, you know?” He mumbled conversationally, taking another spoonful of porridge.

So focused on his task, he missed the devastated expressions that flitted across the Uchiha’s faces, along with the determined look they shared.

Only now noticing the tension he’d brought back to the table, he hurried to change the subject. “Ah- but I like cooking, it’s relaxing, you know? I don’t mind it at all.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to come by more often to try it out.” Itachi offered kindly. His statement was confirmed by his companion's plate being thrust towards the smaller boy, asking for a second helping while nodding enthusiastically.

Both of them promised then and there that they wouldn’t let the younger boy worry about such things anymore. Food wouldn’t remain a rarity. They would make sure of it.

 

___________________________________

 

“So,” Shisui said casually, as they were cleaning up, the two insisting they do all the work since the younger boy had cooked. “Are you excited to start the academy in two months?”

“Not really.” He answered, fiddling with the loose treads of his shirt.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Itachi who had been drying the dishes passed to him by Shisui, turned to face Naruto, watching him carefully and patiently.

“Most of the kids there are going to be way ahead of me, you know? I’m not a clan kid, most of the things I know are things I taught myself, and it’s just-” He took a breath, frustrated with his fluctuating emotions. “I’m going to be super behind everyone else.”

“You don’t have to worry about that Naruto-chan, the whole point of going to the academy is learning about new things. Your future sensei’s job will be to teach you everything you need to know.” Shisui replied easily, washing away the last of the soap from his hands.

“If you really want to be prepared, we could train you.” Itachi offered, leaning against the kitchen’s wall, gaze analyzing him closely.

“T-train me? But you-”

"That's not a bad idea, we could make him a training schedule, make sure to train his stamina, and help him gain some muscle. We only have two months so we won't be able to start him on chakra exercises yet, but we could maybe fit in some hand-to-hand combat lessons, and let's not forget weapons training-" To Naruto's amazement and increasing worry, the older Uchiha seemed to dissolve into a muttering fit, planning out an entire training schedule before Naruto could even begin to make sense of the conversation.

Panic seethed him as the words slowly but surely overwhelmed him. He couldn’t let them do this. He was already wasting enough of their time. He was being selfish and inconsiderate even thinking about accepting their kind offer. Without really meaning to, he drowned out the world around him, getting lost in the growing spiral forming within his mind.

Something tapped against his forehead and he startled out of his reverie, looking up to meet Itachi’s kind, worried gaze. “Would you like us to train you, Naruto-kun?”

In that moment, despite every instinct in his body and mind screaming at him to refuse, to tell them they shouldn’t be bothering with him. To say no.

He found himself uttering the words "Yes, please." As if on autopilot. He wondered briefly if perhaps his magic was controlling him, maybe he'd accidentally cast an imperious charm on himself. But alas, his magic was still buried deep within him, out of reach.

Maybe, he later contemplated, when the sun has faded from the sky and he was back to the silence of his empty apartment. Maybe, he’d found a little Slytherin ambition buried deep within him and luckily, had the Gryffindor courage to seize an opportunity when it was presented to him.

 

_____________________

 

“Come on Naruto-Chan! We're burning sunlight!" Shisui’s voice was drowned out by his heaving breath, and the blood pumping and pulsating in his ears. He wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t have accepted after all. His entire body ached, he’d only been training for two weeks, and it felt like his muscles would give out on him at any second. Dropping to the ground, he laid on the ground panting, trying to reinstate some oxygen back into his lungs. For a moment, he could imagine himself taking a nice nap while watching the clouds above.

“Gotta admit, kid, you’ve got quite the stamina. Most would already be passed out by now.” Shisui praised sincerely, dropping to sit next to him. ”You’re training must be paying off.”

His training consisted of working on stamina and building muscles by running laps around the village and various training exercises Itachi had shown him a few days ago. His mornings consisted of solo training while two days a week, one of the two boys would join him for an afternoon sparring session. Although they hadn't done any actual sparring yet. Most of their afternoons until now, like this one, consisted of running through different katas and learning different hand-to-hand combat positions and techniques with Shisui. On the other hand, his days with Itachi consisted of weapons training, teaching him how to use Kunais and Shiruken and how to throw them properly.

The two would switch off depending on their schedules, giving him the chance to learn from both of them while also maintaining their missions outside of the village.

He wonders how the war could have changed if he had given his physical training more thought back then, at Hogwarts. All those times he found himself disarmed and wandless…

His favorite part of the week, however, was Sundays. Every Sunday without fail, both ninjas would join him for training. Shisui was also planning on adding Kenjustu to the schedule if he continued to improve the way he was. To his frustration, the older boy was adamant about starting with wooden sticks, keeping to beginner katas for now. Afterward, they would all go to Naruto’s apartment for lunch. He cherished those rare hours when they could just sit and enjoy each other's company.

They wouldn’t be able to do this forever though, Naruto knew. Itachi was trying to join the Anbu in a few weeks, right as he was scheduled to start the academy, and they were both busy enough as it was. It was a wonder they managed to make time for him at all.

However, despite what others might think, physical training was not all he was doing.

Until now, his magic had been evasive and unreachable. Despite his greatest efforts, he couldn’t figure out why that was.

That is, at least, until he asked Itachi to explain to him chakra theory.

It seemed that until he learned to differentiate and control his chakra, he wouldn’t be able to reach any of his power. It frustrated him to no end, but he kept at it. Shutting himself off from the world every chance he got in order to work on clearing his mind and meditating.

Shisui had also promised that they’d get to do chakra control exercise once he started the academy.

All in all, despite the straining muscles and aching joints, he could already feel himself getting stronger. In fact, Naruto has never felt more alive, more useful, in this lifetime, at least.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chap 6 already up 

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Chapter 6: Purpose

Dodging a kick aimed at his head, he crouched and sprung backward a few steps. Huffing out a sharp breath,, he barely missed the fist aimed at his stomach.

He knew that Itachi was going easy on him, knew that he was in no way close to seeing the boy's full strength or speed. However, as he sidestepped a blow and leaned in to deliver one of his own, he couldn't help but feel proud of his progress. A few weeks ago, he wouldn't have even lasted thirty seconds.

“You’re instincts are sharp.” Shisui would later say, when Naruto was finally given a break to catch his breath and rest for a few minutes. It was a Sunday, and the three of them were training in one of the fields hidden behind the forest near Naruto's apartment.

Twirling a kunai in between his fingers, he continued. “It’s like you already have the experience but lack the technical knowledge to fight.” Naruto sweat-dropped at the statement, knowing full well why that was. If Naruto had one thing in abundance, it would be experience. He shuddered, suppressing the memories that rose to the forefront of his mind. He'd fought in a war and led comrades into battle. Different, they may have been, but they were battles nonetheless.

"He's right," Itachi spoke quietly, sitting on top of a boulder a couple of paces above them. “Most people have to fight for years before they can hone good battle instincts.”

“W-well, most people aren’t randomly attacked while going home, you know.” He inwardly winced, knowing that mentioning incidents like that made the other two tense, yet he couldn’t find another way to justify himself.

“I suppose that’s true.” Itachi answered after a moment, eyes intense.

They were one month into his newly instated training. Naruto had learned more in the last few weeks than he had in his five years of life.

“Hey guys,” He started, gaining both their attentions. “Why did you decide to be Shinobi?" The question had been circling in his mind for a while now. He knew that he didn't really have a choice in his future profession. The Sandaime had made that very clear in their last conversation. But he also didn’t want to follow orders blindly. Wanted to find his own reason to go down the ninja road.

Having already fought and lived through one war, Naruto hadn’t been particularly enthusiastic to jump right back into fighting. A Shinobi’s journey was, after all, filled with even more bloodshed and violence. Not unlike that of an Auror, it was plagued with death and destruction at every turn.

However, he also knew, that despite his best efforts, he could never stay away from trouble. As Hermione would always say, he had something of a hero complex. His, as she referred to it, ‘Saving people thing’ would mean that he would eventually find himself drawn to conflict either way.

“My father is the head of the Uchiha clan.” Itachi began slowly. “I was meant to follow in his footsteps from the very start.”

“Was that your only reason?” Naruto asked tentatively, feeling like he was treading a very fine line.

“No, it was not.” When Naruto made no move to interrupt him, he continued. “When I was five, I’d seen enough bloodshed to know that I wanted to be strong enough to, hopefully, one day put a stop to it. I want to bring peace to this world.” Suddenly, he felt like he understood the boy in front of him more. Even with his limited knowledge on the inner workings of a Shinobi village, Naruto could already tell that the Uchiha, at only eleven, was already well on his way to becoming Jonin. A very skilled and talented one at that.

"I believe in you." He blurted out abruptly, louder than he intended. He meant every word.

“Thank you Naruto-kun.” The ninja replied warmly.

“W-what about you Shisui-san?”

“My reason isn’t as cool as Itachi’s.” The boy started, shooting a mock glare at his friend. “I looked up to my father a lot when I was a kid. I wanted to be just like him, so I joined the academy like everyone else in the clan.” He spoke quietly, his voice softer than he’s ever heard it before. “I wanted to be strong so that I could help protect my family and my village, just like he did.”

It seemed he’d met really amazing people, Naruto concluded.

“I think you’re pretty cool too, Shisui-san.”

“H-hey!” flustered under the attention, the boy exclaimed, “What did I say about the Shisui-san crap, drop the honorifics already, we're not that much older than you, you know."

“Hn.” Itachi hummed his agreement.

“A-alright.”

“Well, come on.” Shisui suddenly declared, getting to his feet gracefully. “Let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

“We haven’t finished sparring yet. He needs more-” Itachi started only to be interrupted. Shisui’s arm coming to over his shoulders.

“Come on –Tachi, we won’t have time to go later, we both have missions and Sasuke will go looking for you after for sure. We can’t bail on Sunday lunches!”

Naruto who had been in the process of joining Itachi in his protest closed his mouth, letting his voice die down at the new information. He’d grown used to hanging around the two, more comfortable and open.

So, putting on his best puppy dog eyes, he made sure to make his voice as small as possible. “Come on Itachi, you can’t break tradition.”

“Alright.” The boy mumbled, turning his head to look away from the blue eyes staring into his soul. Matching smiles turned at his words, excited to have broken his resolve.

“Hey, Itachi?” Naruto asked tentatively, as they made their way back to the main streets. The chunin in question turned to face him. Giving him his full attention, their steps never faltering as they walked. “W-who’s Sasuke?”

The eleven-year-old's eyes widened considerably, a look mirrored by the fourteen-year-old next to him. "Wait, we never told you about him?" Shisui asked, shock clear in his voice. “Itachi usually never stops talking about him!”

Perplexed and more than a little curious now, Naruto shook his head.

“Sasuke is my little brother," Itachi answered finally. “Like you, he’s going to be joining the academy this year.”

“You have a brother that’s my age! How come you never mentioned him before?” He prodded, feeling bolder than usual.

“I supposed that the subject has never come up until now.”

“Aw man, I bet Sasuke-chan would get pretty mad if he found out you were training someone other than him.”

“That’s exactly why he won’t.” Itachi declared, sending a heated glare at the Jonin marching next to them.

“Shouldn’t we stop, then?” The words tasted bitter on his tongue, having to physically force himself to utter them. When two pairs of dark eyes turned to look at him, he hurried to explain. “I mean, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble. If your brother would-“

“Don’t worry Naruto-kun.” Itachi interrupted gently. “I can do both.”

“Yeah.” Shisui agreed, “Besides, Sasuke-kun has plenty of people he could go to for training.” Whereas Naruto, on the other hand, only had them, went unspoken.

“I-if you’re sure.” He said, feeling relieved beyond measure. It was then that a familiar smell wafted through the air. Ichiraku’s ramen shop was like a beacon, Naruto decided. Somehow, it always managed to attract him like moth to a flame. Perhaps Naruto was being a little dramatic but he couldn’t help but yearn for the food again. Last time he’d tasted it was during his hospital stay. He wondered if it would taste different if it were fresh out of the kitchen.

He didn’t notice himself pausing, eyes trained on the shack. At least not until a face blocked his vision. Shisui’s eyes were squinted in an understanding smile.

“Wanna eat out today, Naru-chan?”

“Uhm n-no” He fumbled to respond, dread pooling in his guts, making his hunger suddenly disappear. “Let’s just go ho-“

“Hey wait!” A hand latched onto his shoulder, halting his retreat. “I saw how you looked at the place, Naruto. So why don’t you tell me the real reason you’re so suddenly against the idea.” The older boy’s voice was hard as he spoke, regarding him seriously but patiently.

Itachi stared at both of them silently. A knowing glint in his eyes that didn't fail to make something in Naruto's chest twist.

“Look, you should already know this by now,” He started, gaze drifting to look at the ground, studying a particularly interesting pebble. “But most people don’t like it when I’m around. If we go in, I’ll probably get kicked out or get yelled at.” He continued, wishing the ground would suddenly open up and swallow him down. “It’s just not worth it, okay?” And after a moment, he added. “But if you want to go, I won’t stop you. I’ll just wait for you outside.”

"I hope you know how messed up this is." The dark tone in his friend's voice made him look up. His ocean-blue eyes met something akin to liquid anger, swimming in those dark orbs.

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets, suddenly feeling really small.

“We should go in, anyway.” Shisui spoke up as if the entire previous conversation hadn’t happened.

“What, but you just-“

“I know, but this place is different okay? The owner here is a good man, he won’t be anything but kind.”

“He’s right, Naruto-kun.” Their eyes were both trained on him, leaving the decision up to him. Their gazes held his own, as if urging him to trust them on this.

“F-fine, but if he does anything, I’m not sticking around for a lecture.”

“Yosh!” A hand suddenly clutched at his smaller one, dragging him into the small shack. Itachi followed dutifully behind at a slower pace. The curtains blocking the entrance were pulled out of the way as they stepped in.

Warmth seemed to radiate from the very wood encasing the place. As if cocooning them in a comfortable, peaceful atmosphere.

Two men were seated in front of the counter. Enjoying a meal while they conversed quietly. One of the two glanced their way nonchalantly but paused as he spotted the five-year-old. Naruto could pinpoint the moment the man's eyes zeroed in on his whisker marks. The exact second he recognized just who it was that interrupted his meal.

Eyes narrowing considerably, he nudged his partner, urging him to turn around.

Shisui’s hand tightened around Naruto’s own as the second civilian suddenly stood up, outraged. “Come on, I’m not eating anywhere near It.”

Heart plummeting to his stomach, Naruto turned to leave. He knew this would happen. Why the hell would he go in, he should know better by now.

Shisui was shouting something at the retreating figures but all Naruto could focus on was his feet. Wishing he would just disappear. He hated that this was happening, hated that the two were there to see it. Maybe now, they would realize just what kind of freak he was, and they would stop being the exception to the rule.

“What can I get you fine gentlemen today?” A voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts, startling him. Looking up, he was met with kind, wrinkled eyes. It was the same man he’d seen wiping the counter all those nights ago.

“S-sorry, they just-“

“Don’t fret, young one, People like that aren't welcome here.” He took one step back before, “If they hadn’t left, I would have kicked them out myself.” His eyes widened, was this real?

“Yeah, the nerve on some people.” A girl, who he hadn’t noticed until now, spoke up next to the old man. Her hands drying a bowl with a towel.

Shisui, whose grin was now back at full force, stepped forward, trailing Naruto behind him toward one of the stools in front of the counter. Itachi taking the one on Naruto’s other side.

“You sure I can-“

“Sit down, kiddo. You like ramen don’t you?”

He nodded, suddenly feeling numb, not really understanding what was happening. “I’m Teuchi Ichiraku, and this is my daughter Ayame. It’s nice to meet you, Naruto-chan.” They- they knew his name? “I hope you know that you will always be welcome here, my boy.”

Looking at Itachi and Shisui, he got mirrored encouraging nods, as if to confirm that this was all really happening. “T-thank you.” He mumbled, cheeks heating under all the positive attention.

“Three large bowls of miso ramen for us, Teuchi-san," Shisui ordered, the grin still stretched across his features, lighting up his face.

“Coming right up.” And just like that, the two turned back to their work, leaving them to their relative privacy.

The two boys sitting on either side of him seemed to instinctively know to keep quiet. Probably realizing that Naruto needed some time to digest the last few minute's events.

“Thank you.” He whispered after a few minutes. Wanting to convey how much he appreciated them. He never would’ve had the guts to come here or meet these new people without them.

Matching soft smiles were directed at him in response.

Three bowls of steaming hot ramen were suddenly placed in front of them, drawing their attention. His eyes were instantly drawn to the Naruto fish cake swimming in his own.

Thanking the old man for the meal, they didn’t waste any time digging in.

As he expected, the food tasted so much better now. Every bite felt heavenly on his tongue. Ramen was officially his new favorite food, he decided.

He also figured that the company helped to make it taste even better.

 

__________________________________

 

After lunch, separating from his two companions, he went back to the forest, intent on finishing his training for the day.

He ran through his usual stretches and Katas, going through the motions methodically. The movements were engraved into his memory by now.

Once he was done, he picked up the kunai Itachi had given him to practice with. Going through the repetitive action of throwing them into a tree again and again until his aim got sharper and more accurate.

By the time he was done, the sun was beginning to set and his arms ached with a satisfying sharpness, proof of the day’s efforts.

Flopping onto the ground unceremoniously, he closed his eyes, trying to focus on the dormant power within him.

Unsurprisingly, his magic was unresponsive to his coaxing. He must have substantial chakra reserves, he concluded, for it to block out the flow to his core so thoroughly. The book Itachi had given him on Chakra and fine control explained that the more chakra you had, the harder it would be to control.

Frustrated, he huffed, opening his eyes once more. He couldn’t wait to start his academy classes. Maybe then, he’d get to learn how to control his chakra enough to access his powers.

The issue of his missing wand would then pose an entirely different problem. Wandless magic, while not impossible, takes years to perform. It had taken him until his sixth year at Hogwarts to even attempt it.

Sighing loudly, he pushed himself to his feet, body sluggish from exhaustion as he made his way back home.

His empty apartment after a long day seemed extra daunting. The lights flicker in the hallway as he finally reached his floor. Having thankfully made his way home before it got dark.

New markings were tagged onto the wall next to his door and he resigned himself to a night of cleaning.

At least, he muses as he takes hold of an old rag and a bucket of water, he met new people who were exceptions to the rules, today.

Smiling softly despite the red, harsh words painted in front of him, he got to work.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7 already posted in the link on my bio

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Chapter 7: Red and gold

The sun beats down on the dirty village road, warming the gravel with a soft orange glow. Naruto’s feet hit the ground rhythmically, walking through the crowded streets, twisting and turning between long limbs in order to go about his way unperturbed. His legs ache, his muscles straining from both yesterday’s training and the fact that he’s been walking all day.

He's been going from utility shop to utility shop, trying desperately to find someone that will agree to take him on as a customer.

His first day at the ninja academy was tomorrow. His nerves were set ablaze with anticipation and dare he say, a little excitement.

But first, to go to the academy and make the most of it, he needed to buy himself supplies. Paper, pens, books, and all.

Hermione would have been proud of his initiative, however unsuccessful it was.

The skin on his palms stings at the reminder of his failures. Having been kicked out one too many times, he’d scrapped his hands raw, trying to catch himself each time before his face bit into the hot dirt.

Sighing dejectedly, he resigned himself to his fate. Needing another thing on his endless list of acquired supplies, he turned to head in the direction of the eastside market.

He knew that Itachi and Shisui would’ve immediately agreed to go shopping for him, they would’ve volunteered with no reservations or hesitation. However, he’d resolved to go on his own this time. He couldn’t keep relying on the two older boys. They did too much for him as it was. He didn’t need to burden them any further with ridiculous requests. He was almost six, he was going to be studying to become a ninja, and so, he could buy his own supplies.

His gaze settled on the one store he had never gone to before in this district. The glass door leading into it was cracked and stained. A faded banner hung on the highest part of the structure, screws loose and half hanging from its perch. A strong wind or a particularly dedicated pigeon would surely do it in, Naruto concluded grimly.

Feeling some of his courage wane, he marched right into the clothing store, knowing that he needed to get it over and done with.

His current clothes were not academy appropriate. He was all too eager to get rid of everything he’d gotten from the neighbor’s son, wanting nothing that would remotely incite anyone to attack him again. Grasping a hesitant hand to his throat, he gulped, shaking his head as if to physically dispel the memory.

Racks upon racks of clothes welcomed him on entry. A sea of different colors and sizes that made something inside him stir. Checking his surroundings discreetly, he calmly made his way to the counter.

He learned through numerous less-than-welcome encounters that it was best to be upfront and direct in his shopping endeavors.

Sneaking around would ultimately get him in trouble. They'd either think he was here to vandalize or steal. Trying to hide his appearance would also only make it worse in the long run, when they'd eventually figure him out.

It was best to just test his luck upfront if only to spare himself further pain.

The counter to the checkout area was taller than he was, looming over him forebodingly. Clearing his throat, he waited for the clerk, a fat greying man, to notice him. The man’s eyes wandered the space above him before finally looking down, eyes narrowing slightly.

“What do you want?” He drawled, seemingly already having lost any interest in him. The welcoming smile he'd previously worn was nowhere in sight now that he recognized the child in front of him.

“I’m looking to buy an outfit for the academy, sir.” He spoke softly, not really sure what to do, now that he wasn’t being kicked out outright.

“The ninja academy.”He scoffed, leaning back against the wall behind his counter. Eyeing him with barely concealed disgust. “I don’t have anything for you.”

Clenching his fists, he shot a glance at the racks full of clothes behind him. “I have money.” He drawled, mimicking the man’s low voice.

“Selling anything to you would mean business going down, brat, you’d have to pay me extra just for the trouble.” The stench of alcohol reached his nostrils as the man leaned across the counter, a self-assured smirk twisting his features.

“Fine.” He gritted out, having already resigned himself to being overcharged the moment he walked in. He turned to head towards the racks when a voice called out, making him pause mid-step.

“Now, now, little brat, where do you think you’re going?” Bracing himself for the inevitable, he turned to look at the older man blankly, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “The store’s duds are over there.”

Barely managing to quell his rising humiliation and the anger that followed, he reminded himself that any clothes were better than no clothes at all. It didn’t stop him from shooting the older man a withering glare as he marched towards the back of the store, coming face to face with a pile of discarded clothes, bunched up in a fraying basket.

Jokes on him, he thinks, as he shuffled to rummage through the pile, It’s the most options he’s ever had in his entire life.

The entire experience brought up images of his past childhood, sifting through piles and piles of Dudley’s discarded hand-me-down to find anything that would even remotely fit him.

He tossed aside any items that were too torn up or had any suspicious stains on them. Feeling a little sick to his stomach as he dug deeper into the rapidly thinning stack.

To his rising despair, the only viable clothes left were a pair of bubble gum pink shorts, a vibrant but frankly horrendously bright orange hoodie, dark black ripped pants, and finally, a faded red jacket with yellow accents along the zipper line.

The Gryffindor colors made something within him twist uncomfortably and he found himself subconsciously reaching for it.

“You done yet brat? I ain’t got all day.”

Making his decision, he picked up both the jacket and the pants before proceeding to walk back up to the counter. Rising to the tip of his toes he hefted the two items onto it, waiting for the clerk’s verdict. He knew with no small amount of resignation that when he would be walking out, his froggy wallet would be significantly lighter than it was when he walked in.

“Thank you for your patronage,” The man smiled, his yellow teeth wide and showing. “That would be eight thousand Ryo.” He continued sweetly, the mocking grin twisting his features, wrinkling his eyes into slits.

Slamming the money onto the flat surface, he snatched his newly acquired clothes and booked it out of there, knowing that if he stayed any longer he’d probably do something he’d regret. Emotional situations like this always meant freaky things happening, and he couldn’t have anyone figure out his secrets.

His excitement for tomorrow was all but nonexistent, with not a shred of enthusiasm left in his system as he made his way back home.

Disappointment ran thick through his veins, he wondered how he was going to be able to follow through the classwork if he didn’t have any school supplies. Why didn’t this world come with its own Hagrid to guide him through the harrowing journey of getting ready for school?

His chest constricted at the thought of the half-giant. Maybe he could rummage through the orphanage's trash tonight, and try and get a hold of some of the papers they used to teach the infants there. He could probably write on the back of the scrolls, using some kind of natural chalk.

Sighing for what felt like the twentieth time today, he lumbered up the stairs. His hands were clutched tightly around his newly acquired outfit, fingers creasing the already brittle fabric as if someone would suddenly spring up to snatch them away from him.

Fumbling with his keys, he finally stepped into the relative safety of his tiny apartment. Shock ran through his system as he found the lights leading into the kitchen to be turned on.

“H-Hello?” Itachi had told him they’d be busy for a while to come. In fact, the last time he’d seen either of the two was a little more than a week ago. Walking cautiously towards the  “Is some-“

“Okaerinasai Naruto-chan!” Blue eyes widened with emotion, staring at the grinning teen making himself at home in his apartment.

“Wha- How did you even get in?" He found himself asking rather numbly, looking every bit as dumbfounded as he felt at the moment.

“Come on, Naru, you should be used to it by now.” The other responded nonchalantly, eyes wandering over Naruto’s small frame and zeroing on the items held within his grasp. “Did you go shopping or something?” The jonin inquired curiously, leaning forward in his seat.

“Just bought an outfit for tomorrow.” He mumbled in response, walking forward to sit on the chair on the opposite side of the table. “How come you’re here, didn’t you guys say you’d be really busy from now on?”

“Unfortunately, we are, as much as we’d like to train more, with Itachi joining the Anbu and my missions intensifying, we won’t have as much time as we did the last few weeks, I’m afraid.” He explained seriously, making Naruto feel as though there was something else he was not telling him, something serious. “But, I didn’t come here just to tell you that.” Shisui continued, his voice low and soft. “Here.” He finished, pulling out a small pouch from under the table.

Curious and a little lost, Naruto held out his hand, accepting the small bag with delicate fingers. His breath hitched as he opened it, a lump forming in his throat. He swallowed, willing away the tears that prickled at the back of his eyes. “Shisui…” He breathed, his voice raw with emotion as he brought the pouch to his chest, holding onto it like a lifeline.

“It’s not much, but I couldn’t let you go through your first day unprepared, so… there ya go.” The teen shot him a smile, gesturing once again to the gift he’d just offered the younger boy.

Inside were three notebooks, a few pencils and erasers, and a ruler. All were varying in color and sizes as if Shisui wasn’t sure what to get, so he got one of each.

“Itachi wanted to be here too, but he has his test tomorrow and he couldn’t get away from his clan duties. He says to wish you good luck and to enjoy yourself.” The teen hadn’t even finished his sentence before a small body was barreling into him.

“Whoah-"A pair of small, thin arms wrapped themselves around his midriff with enough force to almost tip his chair backward. "You alright, Naru-chan?”

The boy’s response was only to squeeze harder, as if to physically transmit his emotions now that his voice was failing him. Too overwhelmed to articulate his feelings or put them into words.

Hesitant arms came down to wrap around the boy’s back, squeezing back just as tightly. “It’s okay, I understand.” He whispered, feeling as though he didn’t deserve this level of gratitude for such a simple gesture.

“Th- thank you Shisui-nii.” His heart practically melted at the honorific, only now understanding why Itachi felt when he was near Sasuke-kun.

“Anytime, sweetheart.” He wished he could be there more for the boy. Feeling even guiltier, knowing they wouldn’t be able to spend as much time with him anymore.

 

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Waking up the next day, Naruto tried to be as optimistic as possible. Rushing through his morning routine, even though he knew he was up way too early to be rushing anything at all, he went through the familiar motions of getting ready for the day.

Thankfully, the water wasn’t too cold at this time of day, he could actually enjoy the shower he took a little bit. Drying his hair with a towel before slipping into his new clothes. Well, new was a relative term, but given that despite the state of the fabric, they were in better shape than anything else he owned.

It also helped that the colors of his chosen attire reminded him of his house values. He would need his courage today, he knew.

The prospect of learning new things and making friends was a concept he never dared to delve too deeply into. Lest he gets lost in the inevitable hurt and disappointment that accompanied such a topic.

One that was realistically too good to happen to him.

Potter luck and whatever the hell the world had against him in this life made sure of that.

He tried his best to remember that he’d been just as nervous, if not more, on his first day at Hogwarts. And that experience had, thankfully, ended with him finding an entirely new world, a home, and friends for life. So, maybe, if he gave it a chance, today wouldn’t be so bad.

Looking in the mirror, he tried to tame his unruly hair. Tried, being the key word. Giving up once he saw his attempts were only making it worse, he took a moment to look at himself.

His eyes were bright blue, a few specks of green swimming in the mix. Maybe he was imagining it, but the color was a little too familiar. Dark eye bags sunk into the skin under his eyes, making the shade stand out more. He really needed to find a way to deal with his nightmares, there were no dreamless sleep potions here he could take. Maybe if he really concentrated on his memories, he could get himself to recall the ingredients they had learned with Snape.

For now, however, there were other matters to focus on.

His red jacket hung over his frame, a little too big but not so much that it would slip off his shoulder. His pants were baggy at the hips but fit him relatively well, aside from the legs he had to roll up once. He really hated how short he was. Hopefully, if his nutriment intake didn't get in the way, he would grow taller quickly.

Mostly satisfied, he slipped the pouch over his neck and across his chest, happy that it had come with a strap that allowed him to do so. Checking and double-checking he had everything he needed, he stepped out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

Opening his fridge damped his mood slightly, seeing what remained of his provisions. He knew that Itachi wouldn't leave him hanging, but given he hadn't seen the boy in over a week, he couldn't help but doubt it.

It was fine.

Taking a banana out of the fridge, he stuffed it into his pouch before moving on. He needed to ration what he had left. Just in case.

Everything was fine.

Inhaling deeply then exhaling, he finally felt ready to take on the day. Looking at the clock, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to get there early.

 

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Walking into the academy ground felt nothing like stepping into Hogwarts. There was no magical lake to greet him, nor was there an enchanted castle to distract him from his mounting anxiety.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets to avoid fidgeting out in the open, he walked through the gates.

It might not have felt like stepping into Hogwarts, but it did feel a little bit like stepping into Platform 9 and three-quarters. As it felt like he was running into the unknown at full speed, not really knowing if he would be met with a crushing obstacle or not.

Expect there was one key difference here, there was no Mrs. Weasley to help encourage him or urge him to take the leap. Nor was there a tiny Ron to help him ease his nerves and feel a little less alone.

Squaring his shoulders he followed the trail of children leading into the small building. The big red doors closed behind him seamlessly as he walked in.

Reading through the numerous banners near each classroom, he finally found the one he was looking for. The Hokage had sent him a letter explaining some of the details he needed to know. A very vague letter that somehow only indicated the bare essentials. Time and date and a semi-genuine wish for good luck.

He expected the classroom to be empty this early, but it seemed that even if he an hour early, most of the students were already there. Most of the seats were already taken, except for a few in the back. It seemed that he had been misinformed. Did the Hokage want him to be late on purpose? Or were the clan kids used to getting super early to things? Something he could ponder later, he supposed.

He kept his eyes trained on the floor ahead of him as he walked up the small stairs toward the seat furthest back. A boy was already seated there, the seat next to him, free to use.

His hair was a light brown, kept in place by a grey beanie. Busy talking to someone on the other side of his seat, he didn’t notice Naruto’s approach until he was sliding into the seat next to him.

Naruto watched with a sinking feeling as the boy's eyes widened. It would have been comical if not for the immediate fear and disgust that flared within the kid's grey eyes. Shooting Naruto a glare, he quickly vacated his seat, joining two boys on a bench to the right. Preferring to squeeze into a small space then sit next to the resident freak it seemed.

Sighing heavily, he ignored the various looks he was getting from the kids around him, not meeting anyone’s gaze or even trying to look around at his new classmates, he resigned himself to a bad start to his academy days.

Laying his head against his desk, he tried to calm his mind to avoid a panic attack.

Everything was fine. Even if everyone reacted like that. He wasn’t here to make friends. He was here to learn. So, there.

With renowned determination, he made quick work of taking out one of his notebooks and a pen from his pouch. Setting the two delicately on the table and taking good care of aligning the pen with the spine. Satisfied with his handy work, he waited patiently for the teacher to arrive.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the door to the classroom slid open.

Hopefully, he would learn many interesting things today.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 8 already up in the link on my bio

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Chapter 8: Invisible

The man that walks through the door is tall, his shoulders are wide and his posture is imposing. He saunters into the room with prominent self-assurance, his shoulders relaxed and open. A large, exaggerated smile stretches his features, so obviously forced, its makes something in Naruto’s chest twist. Instincts flaring in a silent warning.

“Hello class, my name is Jiro Takeda, but you can call me Jiro-Sensei, I will be your homeroom teacher for the year.” He greets, voice cheery and bright as he leans against the front of his desk, overlooking the class. His eyes rake over the students, never lingering on anyone in particular, that is until they get to Naruto himself.

The pause lasts for only a second, and yet it still feels like ants are crawling all over his skin, making him shudder violently in his seat.

“My job is to teach you everything you need to know about our village’s history, the essence of chakra and the basics of your academy training for the year.” Threading a hand through his black hair, he flashes the students a porcelain smile, before straightening a little. “Well, let’s get straight to it, shall we?” He adds excitedly before launching into their first lesson.

Despite his trepidation, he finds himself getting immersed into the lecture, fascinated with the rich history of his village. Not to mention the intricate system that these people have managed to cultivate throughout the years. It’s so different from his old government, yet somehow, it still works.

The man talks about the Hokage that have led the village, starting from the Shodaime, to the Yondaime. A man, he learns, sacrificed his own life for the village, almost six years ago, today.

It feels like he’s back at Hogwarts, discovering an entirely different world for the very first time. Without meaning to, he lets his guard down.

Opening his notebook, he writes everything he hears, as if trying to absorb the words through the paper directly into his brain, he takes down every word that comes out of the man’s mouth. It’s so very reminiscing of his first ever lesson with Snape that it makes him pause momentarily, pen halting it’s movements before proceeding a second later.

He’s never been particularly good at school, but being best friends with a brainiac like Hermione Granger, he’s learned more than a few tricks to get his mind working. After all, you don’t stay friends with the brightest witch of your generation without picking up a few habits.

Smiling to himself at the memory, he underlines a particularly important phrase in his notes.

“Who can tell me more about the Ninja ranking system?” Jiro-sensei asks suddenly, having just finished giving a brief overview of their curriculum.

Several smalls hands shoot up, some more enthusiastic than others, Naruto’s hand hesitantly joins in. The answer repeats itself in a loop in his head, preparing to speak up if called upon to do so.

“Sakura-san.” The man, who Naruto now realizes, must have memorized their names beforehand, gestures to a small girl, sitting at the front of the class. Her pink hair sways as she startles, as if not expecting to be chosen first.

“Uhm, the lowest rank in our village is a-academy student.” She begins, her voice gaining confidence the more she speaks even as her cheeks redden with color at the attention. “If we graduate, we move up to Genin.”

“That’s right, good job!” He cheers with a smile, his eyes softening as he does so. “And can you tell me the rank that comes after that of a Genin?” Maybe this teacher was nicer than he thought.

Shaking her head, the six year old settles back in her seat, shoulders hunching in on herself. “That’s alright, does anyone know?” He turns once again to face the rest of the class, eyes never meeting Naruto’s own as he does so.

“Oh, me, me! Sensei!” A brown haired boy bounces in his seat energetically, his hand waves so much it almost clips his seatmate in the eye. “Pick me!” He shouts.

A bark, a shrill sounds that resembles more a squeak than anything else, suddenly resounds through the room, startling Naruto so much that his knees knock into the underside of his desk. Looking closer, he finally takes notice of the tiny white dog nestled in the kid’s hair. Were they allowed to bring pets to class?

“Alright Kiba-kun, go ahead.” Sensei allows, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“It’s Chunin! The next is Chunin! Right?” The boy exclaimed loudly, almost dislodging the puppy from his head with the force of his excited movements.

“Correct, it looks like this year’s class is full of little geniuses.” A small scuff can be heard from somewhere on the other side of the classroom. Drawing the attention of almost all the students. Craning his neck, he tries to get a better look at the boy.

His black hair is the first thing he notices. A shade so dark it shines blue in the light. The boy turns and Naruto can’t help the small gasp he lets out as he finally gets a good look at the kid’s features. It’s like he has a smaller, angrier version of Itachi, sitting in class with him. That, and the red fan on the back of his shirt instantly marks the boy as an Uchiha.

“Oh, do you have anything to say, Sasuke-kun?” So he was right, this was Itachi’s little brother. The boy’s eyes narrow at having been confronted, though he remains stubbornly silent. “Do you know what the rank that comes after Chunin is?”

His tone is low and steady as he speaks, despite the six-year old’s high voice. “Tokubetsu Jonin, Jonin, and Kage.”

“Right you are!” When his praise doesn’t gain the wanted reaction, the teacher straightens and laughs nervously, walking back to stand in front of the class. “Now, who can tell me what is the rank you all failed to mention?”

Naruto takes his chance and finally raises his hand once more.

Jiro-sensei’s eyes meet his own steadily, even as he speaks. His voice lower than it was this entire time. “Anyone at all?” It hits him, then that the man had been actively avoiding calling on him. Lowering his arm from its full height until his elbow hits the table, he tries to remain unaffected. “Really, none of you know?” Soft murmurs go through the room as some of the kids notice Naruto’s hand.

“It’s Anbu.” Naruto whispers, the words slipping from his tongue without active thought, his eyes dimming a little as he realizes now, how the rest of his year will likely go.

“Oh, oh!” The boy with the grey beanie suddenly shouts, having heard Naruto’s soft answer. “It’s Anbu!”

The praise the kid gets falls on deaf ears as Naruto’s world dims suddenly. Hunching in on his desk, he spends the rest of the lesson drawing absent-mindedly in his notebook. Wishing for the day to end. When the lunch bell finally rings, after what feels like an eternity, he doesn’t waste a second before packing and taking off towards the playground.

Maybe he was overreacting. The teacher didn’t have to pick him after all, it could have just been a coincidence.

The look in the man’s eyes flash to the forefront of his mind and he tries his best to believe his own words. He’ll just have to wait and see. Maybe if Naruto continues with his efforts to be a good student, the man would change his mind.

Looking at the mostly empty playground behind the school building, his gaze zeroed in on a lonely swing set that hangs somewhat pathetically from an old tree branch. It’s out of the way and isolated enough that it would be perfect for a quiet getaway. Out of sight and out of mind.

Hearing multiple groups of students making their way outside, he hurriedly settles on the aged, wooden plank. His back to one of the chains, legs parted on either side. Shuffling a hand into his bag, he draws out his banana. Food never failed to brighten his mood, after all.

It’s not long, however, before he hears the whispers and muttering of the kids around him. Some warning their friends about him.

“It’s that kid…” One of the older girls says to her friends. “My dad says to stay away from him.” He can already feel his back go taut at her words. His hands flexing in a sudden urge to draw out his wand. A wand that, he dejectedly remembers, doesn’t exist anymore.

“Why?” The boy next to her says around a mouthful of the sandwich in between his teeth. “Is he dangerous?”

The girl shrugs nonchalantly, oblivious to the rumors that had been spreading ever since she started talking. “Don’t know, they just say he’s some sort of freak or something.”

Appetite lost, he stuffs the treat back into his bag with a little more force then necessary. His movements make the group of students flinch, having finally noticed that he was within hearing range.

The rest of his break is spent in relative silence, blocking out any murmurs or mutters he feels coming his way. Instead, he tries to meditate. It’s been a good exercise for him for the past few weeks. Closing his eyes and turning his mind off as to feel his magic down to the very core. He hopes that in the coming years, he’ll have a better understanding of chakra, in order to learn how to use it in tandem with his magic.

On the bright side, Jiro-sensei seemed like a good teacher. When he was wasn’t actively ignoring Naruto, that is.

The bell rings once more, signaling the end of their break. Finally opening his eyes, he feels significantly calmer. His schedule had stated practical classes for the second half of the day, and so he makes his way to the training field on the other side of the academy.

His steps are deliberately slow as he makes his way there, letting most of his classmates surpass him in hopes of not being the first one there.

Stopping behind the group of kids gathered in the field, he waits patiently for their teacher to arrive. Staying clear of the rowdier bunch as they play around.

As if on cue, Jiro-sensei steps through the doorway leading to the outside, a satisfied grin on his face as he looks over the assembly of six year olds waiting for him.

“Good, you’re all already here.” He says once he’s standing in front of them. “Today’s practical session will be on Taijutsu. We need to strengthen your bodies before we can move on to weapon and Ninjutsu training.” That was logical, Naruto thought. A little relieved that the man wasn’t assuming that everyone had previous training.

The lesson went on from there. Jiro-Sensei showing them different stretches before demonstrating the proper Katas. He then went from student to student, correcting their stances and nudging them into the right positions.

Naruto, unsurprisingly, was left to his own devices. Sighing softly, barely managing to quell the rising disappointment he could feel starting to fester in his chest, he resolved to observe his peers for any mistake he was making. At least, he reflected, he’d already went through these Katas with Shisui a few weeks ago. Therefore, he wasn’t missing out on anything yet. But if the rest of the year went in a similar fashion… Well, he will have to be very observant, won't he. He thought bitterly.

The rest of the day went in a similar fashion and Naruto couldn’t have been happier when the final bell rang.

He didn’t rush this time, though, electing to take the long road toward his apartment. The one that veered through the forest. No one would be waiting there for him today, so he might as well take that time to train some more.

Twisting and winding his way through the foliage, he tried to think of some way he could make the best out of his lessons. He couldn’t fall behind his classmates. Not now, when he finally had the chance to get stronger and prove himself.

Settling down on a fallen log, he steadied his breathing. Focusing once more on the bundle of sweltering energy he could feel simmering in his magical core.

After a few minutes of concentration, he lifted an arm, palm open. His eyes followed soon after, gaze locking onto a small discarded twig.

“Wingardium Leviosa.” He enunciated as clearly as he could. Lips twitching at the memories that accompanied the words like an old friend. He could feel his magic rise to answer his call, just as he could sense the presence of a polar opposite energy blocking its way. The twig remained unperturbed in its resting place and he couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised. He’d been expecting that to happen, after all.

He’d been trying to feel out his magic in his many similar experiments these past few weeks. Slowly but surely, starting to discern the different energies he could feel coursing through his veins. Sometimes, when he concentrated enough, he could almost feel the presence of a third. However, he often attributed that to his standing ignorance in all things chakra. He’d have to ask Shisui or Itachi later. He doubted Jiro-Sensei would spare the time for any of his questions.

Sighing heavily, he flopped back until his back hit the ground, legs hanging up on the log he’d previously been sitting on. Things would have been so much easier if he had his wand with him. Wands were, after all, meant to concentrate ones magic enough to get easier access to their core. Stretching his hand until it could reach the previous object of his concentration, he lifted the twig until it was directly in his line of vision.

Breaking off any excess wood from it, he twirled it between his fingers. A move he’d practiced many times with Ron, during their late night study sessions. When their essays were too long and boring to hold their attention for any surplus of time.

Tears, unbidden, sprung to his eyes, not having yet come to terms with being cut off from everything he’d ever come to hold dear. Blinking harshly, he didn’t let his momentary weakness escape from the confined of his eyelashes. Determined to live up to his house values, he rolled out of his slumped position, getting to his feet with renewed resolution.

He stayed in the forest late into the evening. Altering between meditating and trying out basic spells in order to suss out the feeling behind his endeavors.

Despite not having performed even half a charm, his core felt more than exercised by the end of his training.

Starting to feel the exhaustion seeping into his muscles and bones, he resolved to make the trek home.

Hands unceremoniously stuffed into the pockets of his red jacket, he ventured out of the relative safety of the forest and into Konoha’s streets.

 

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“Nii-san!” Itachi heard as he walked through the doorway to their home. Having just come back from his first assignment with the Anbu, he wanted nothing more than to lay down and rest. However, looking down at the small form of his brother, eagerly waiting for his arrival, he couldn’t help smile. “Welcome home!”

“Sasuke,” He intoned softly, a hand coming up to ruffle his little brother’s hair. “How was your first day at the academy?” He asked, crouching to remove his shoes.

Instead of launching into an excited ramble, like he somewhat expected his brother to, he only heard a soft huff. Lifting his head back up to look at the boy, he noticed that he was pouting rather adorably.

“Did it not go well?” He pressed gently, trying not to get too worried.

Arms crossing themselves over his chest, Sasuke finally turned to face him once more. “It was fine.” He mumbled, voice just as soft. “Our Sensei kept asking easy questions though. And he would make a really big deal if anyone answered them.”

Remaining silent for a few seconds, he wondered how he was going to go about explaining what he had to say. “Sasuke,” He began tentatively, holding eye contact with his brother. “Knowing the answer yourself, doesn’t make the question an easy one. You need to remember that not all your classmates have been raised the same way.” He continued quietly. “You have the privilege of belonging to the main branch of a renowned clan of our village. Not all of your peers have had access to some of the information you have been exposed to all your life.” And for good measure. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Sasuke’s body seemed to deflate at that, his previous bravado loosening into something more relaxed. “Yeah… I get it.” Eyes shifting to the side before looking back at him, the boy mumble. “Sorry.”

Smiling wider, Itachi let two of his fingers rise and poke his brother in the forehead. Relishing in the pout he got in return. “Now, tell me, how was the rest of your day?” He ventured, feet now free of their confines and able to walk further into the house and into the living room. “Did you make any friends?”

Sasuke’s responding scoff was answer enough. “No, why would I?” He said with as much indignation as a six year old could muster. “I’m not there to make friends and play around. I want to get stronger.”

Sighing, Itachi recognized a dead end when he saw one. He’d just have to wait and hope that Sasuke would one day realize the error of his ways. “You never know, Ototo, some people might surprise you.” He settled on saying, knowing that he couldn’t outright tell his brother to befriend someone. Naruto wouldn’t’ want that, anyway. The boy would instantly realize that the interaction was forced.

It didn’t change the fact, however, that Itachi had also been worried about Naruto’s experience during his first day of class. He didn’t know anything about this year’s academy teacher. He resolved himself to check it out at some point later.

For now, he was content to spend what little time he had, resting with his little brother. He’d have to go out once more in a few hours. Anbu duties never stopped, it seemed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9 already up in the link on my bio

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Chapter 9: Storms brewing

Looking at the wrinkled paper held between his hands, he resisted the urge to crush it in his fingers. The big 0 marked in blaring red at the top contrasted greatly with the yellowing white of the parchment. As if announcing his failure to the world.

He thought he’d done well on this test. Thought he’d at least gotten a passing grade. It seems like most things in his life, he was wrong. One more thing to add to the long list of things he couldn’t comprehend.

Rocking slightly so as to stop the swing’s back and forth, he steadied himself with the rope as a shadow fell over his perch. He didn’t look up though, giving them any kind of glare only served to make things worse. Keeping his head down, he braced himself for the inevitable sneers, jeering and mockery.

“Tangerine?”

The soft word caught him off guard. The first thing that draws his attention when he looks up is the shiny red apple held in between thin fingers. Following the digits up to their owner, he was surprised to see it was the Nara kid. The same one from the park, all those weeks ago. Although, he now knew him as the quiet, lazy kid who sits two rows in front of him in class.

When his mouth failed to fabricate any articulate thoughts, the boy spoke up once more. His voice morphed into a slow drawl as he nudged the apple towards him again.

“Well, it’s an apple but you get the sentiment, right?” He could feel his mouth water just looking at it, and he did his best to quell the trembling of his fingers as he finally willed his body to move. Tentatively reaching for it, hesitant to believe this wasn’t just some cruel elaborate joke his classmates were pulling on him once again.

However, to his rising surprise, the fruit was not maliciously snatched away from him, and he soon found himself with a handful of shinny goodness. Remembering their first interaction, he wasted no time putting in the strengths in order to cut the treat in half. Offering it to the Nara with a small none-smile. “T-Tangerine?” He joked hesitantly, sensing his shoulders hunch in on themselves as he outstretched half of the offering back to its previous owner, feeling more than a little silly.

The Nara’s response was to plop down onto the dirt, and bite into it lazily. He could feel some of his earlier gloominess start to lift the longer they ate in peaceful company.

That was until the boy chose to break the silence.

“How come you never went back to the park?”

“A-ah…” He fumbled for an explanation, one that didn’t involve him getting beaten half to death in an alleyway. “I wasn’t feeling all that well.”

The boy hummed, eyes narrowing slightly but seemingly content to let the matter go. For now. “So, why do you still have the test? Sensei gave it back to us hours ago.”

“Oh, I was just trying to figure out what I did wrong.” He admitted softly, feeling his grip tighten around the rumpled paper.

“Want me to take a look?” The boy offered, straightening his posture a little.

Looking down at the Nara, he did his best to hide his skepticism. Wasn’t he the one that got a barely passing grade? A perfect 50?

He figured it was still way better than he did. “Sure, if you don’t mind. Just-“He faltered. “Just don’t laugh, alright?”

Hearing the rustle of paper and the feeling of emptiness in his grip, he did his best to keep himself distracted. Avoid looking at the grimace that was surely etching itself onto the Nara’s features the longer he looked at the abomination he called a test.

When the silence seemed to stretch, he started wishing for the bell to ring and relieve him of the impending humiliation.

However, the boy did not laugh at him, nor did he mock him for his idiocy. Instead, the dark haired clan heir levelled him with an entirely out of character stare. Eyes dark and serious as they regarded him, a new glint in his gaze.

“W-what?” He asked, wanting to break whatever haze had taken over his classmate’s mind. “What’s wrong? Is it that bad?”

That seemed to pull him out of his momentary reverie.

“No, no. just- I think Sensei made a few mistakes while correcting this” His eyes were averted, thoughts probably going a mile a minute with how far away his gaze seemed to be.

“A- a mistake?”

“I’ll explain later I promise, I just need to make sure of something first.” Being kept in the dark never settled well with him, however, he figured that it wouldn’t hurt to be patient.

Later that day, as the last bell rang and the students finally were allowed to go home, he watched as the small Nara stayed back. His exam held lightly in his grip as the boy marched towards Sensei’s desk.

From the safety of his hiding place behind the classroom door, he watched the man lay a gentle hand on the boy’s head, patting it with a smile as he spoke.

“Don’t worry about it, Shikamaru-kun. The kid got the grade he deserved.” He said pleasantly, making something twist in Naruto’s gut. “Go on now, your parents will be worried if you take too long.”

Ducking behind an alcove, he waited for the man’s footsteps to fade. Sighing in relief he stepped out of hiding, coming directly face to face with Shikamaru’s grave expression.

“S-See, there’s no mistake, I’m just failing the class.” That only seemed to make the boy’s mood darker.

“Yeah, there wasn’t any mistake.” The Nara said softly. “Because he did it on purpose.”

And suddenly Naruto all too well what had happened.

 

______________________________

 

 

“See here, that’s the only mistake you did, you mistook that for a fire sign but it was supposed to be wind.” Shikamaru explained with fervor. “You almost aced the test, your grade is all wrong.”

Meticulously examining the test paper, comparing his answers to the correct ones. It didn't take long for him to discover the glaring discrepancies. Naruto had indeed answered all the questions correctly, and yet, the teacher had marked him unfairly.

“Oh.” He uttered softly

“Oh, is that all you’re going to say!” Shikamaru responded in an unexpected burst. Complexly out of character for the usually quiet, composed boy. “We need to do something about this, he can’t keep treating you like that!”

“Its okay, Shikamaru, I don’t care, at least now I know that I’ve been understanding the curriculum well.” He wasn’t a stranger to biased teachers after all. Snape despite the revelations they’d had after his death, hadn’t been the best teacher in terms of fairness.

“That’s not the point, Naruto!” Shikamaru replied, hands flailing in incredulity. “You deserve to get a grade that reflects your efforts, you deserve to be treated fairly.”

“Just drop it, alright?”

Fine, shikamaru thought bitterly, if he wasn’t going to do anything about it, then he would. But first, he needed to gather evidence. Stashing the paper into his bag, he resigned himself to observation and collection during the coming weeks.

The boy’s interest had been peaked, and an angry Nara was never an easy one to deal with.

 

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Shikamaru had been quietly observing Naruto's struggles for weeks, meticulously documenting instances of unfair treatment by Jiro-sensei. He felt a growing sense of frustration and determination to bring an end to Naruto's suffering. Each day brought new examples of neglect, from Naruto being ignored during exercises to being unjustly blamed for class disruptions.

One evening, as twilight bathed the village in a soft orange glow, Shikamaru decided he had enough evidence to take action. He knew he had to tread carefully when approaching his father, Shikaku, who had no inkling of what was happening with Naruto. Shikamaru chose his moment carefully, waiting until the family was gathered for dinner.

"Dad," he began, his voice low but firm, "I have to show you something. It about Naruto."

Shikaku, raising an eyebrow, put down his chopsticks and looked at his son intently. "Naruto? As in Uzumaki Naruto?"

Shikamaru proceeded to explain Naruto's plight and Jiro-sensei's mistreatment. He shared the detailed log of evidence he had gathered, recounting each instance of unfairness, making sure to convey the gravity of the situation.

Shikaku's expression darkened as he reviewed the evidence. As a father, he felt a protective surge of anger and concern for Naruto. "This is unacceptable," he muttered under his breath. "We can't let this continue. We need to bring this to the Hokage's attention."

Later that evening, after having finally convinced his son to stay home, Shikaku stood before the Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, who appeared weary and frustrated as he listened to his account.

"I had suspected something like this was happening, but I didn't expect it to be so blatant. Very well, I will address this issue personally and ensure that Naruto gets the fair treatment he deserves." Hiruzen admitted softly, suddenly looking older to the Jonin.

It wasn’t until a week later, however, that Shikamaru saw the fruits of his efforts. They’d been sitting in class, waiting for the sensei to arrive when the door opened.

Walking in, however, wasn’t Jiro-sensei. Instead, a young man, obviously still in his early twenties shuffled into the room. His eyes roamed across the students before settling on Naruto himself, visibly gulping.

Naruto and Shikamaru, initially apprehensive, expected more of the same mistreatment. They watched as Iruka took charge, not showing any immediate kindness.

Iruka's initial interactions with Naruto were marked by stern discipline, but something was different. With every class, Naruto’s hope at having a new teacher were slowly dwindling, the man wasn’t outright ignoring him, and yet, he could see it, the look of fear and hatred in the man’s eyes.

What had he done to deserve such contempt? It made his blood boil.

However, one prominent difference was that Iruka, for all his obvious derision, still treated him fairly well. He answered when Naruto asked questions and let him participate in class activities like any other student.

It was honestly more than he ever expected to get in this academy.

The deciding factor came in the form of a quiz they’d taken that same evening.

The paper held in between his trembling fingers slowly grew stained as a couple of tears dripped onto its surface.

In the silence of the yard next to the school. Naruto clutched the paper lightly, blinking as if to dispel the illusion. In red marker, full marks had been etched into the parchment. Marking his test, a success.

Whatever hatred Iruka-sensei harbored towards him, he was a better teacher then his predecessor.

 

_______________________________________

 

 

Meanwhile, Itachi Uchiha, through ninja gossip and conversations had overheard between the Nara and Akimichi clan heads speaking.

He’d been on his way back from an anbu mission, Mask and attire safely sealed in a storage scroll. Naruto’s name had drawn his attention and he listened intently as the Jonin discuss the situation between themselves. Feeling his temper shift with each passing phrase, he turned around and headed for his new-found destination.

Something in his chest constricted as he realized that in his effort to keep up with his new schedule and the expectation of both his clan and the village, he’d overlooked the well-being of those he cared about.

As the crescent moon hung in the sky, bathing the old, crumbling building in a soft blue light, Itachi climbed the stairs to Naruto's apartment.

Knocking softly on the boy’s door, he was surprised to find the kid’s door unlocked. The wooden frame slid with a creek, opening the way into the blonde’s kitchen.

Entering through the open threshold, he found Naruto sitting at the table, his gaze fixed on a flickering candle.

Itachi cleared his throat softly, not wanting to startle the boy. "Naruto," he began gently, "there have been rumors about what happened at the academy. I've heard things, and I wanted to make sure you're okay."

Naruto turned to look at Itachi, his expression guarded. "Rumors? I don't know what you're talking about, Itachi."

Itachi regarded Naruto with a knowing gaze. He didn't press further, giving Naruto an opening to share if he wished. "I see," he said calmly, leaving the door open for Naruto to confide in him.

Naruto hesitated for a moment before speaking, "Well, you know how rumors can be, right? They're often blown out of proportion."

Itachi nodded, not giving away his knowledge just yet. "That's true, Naruto. But sometimes, it's better to talk about what's bothering us, rather than carrying it alone."

Naruto shifted uncomfortably. He knew that Itachi was offering him an opportunity to open up, but the fear of judgment held him back. He decided to change the subject. "So, how has your training been going, Itachi?"

Itachi maintained his calm demeanor but decided it was time to be honest with Naruto. "Naruto, I want you to know that I already have an idea of what's been happening at the academy. You don't have to pretend like nothing's wrong.

Naruto's eyes widened, caught in the lie but feeling strangely relieved. He swallowed hard before responding, "You... you know?"

Itachi nodded and moved closer to Naruto, sitting down beside him. "Yes, Naruto. I know. And I'm here to listen and help, not to judge."

Naruto's eyes welled up with emotion, and he finally let his guard down. "I didn't want to worry anyone, and I didn't know what to do. I thought I could handle it on my own."

Itachi placed a comforting hand on Naruto's shoulder. "You don't have to carry this burden alone, Naruto. Keeping secrets like this can be harmful. We're your friends, and we care about you. It's okay to ask for help when you need it."

Naruto nodded, a tear escaping his eye. "I understand, Itachi. I just didn't want to be a bother to anyone."

Itachi smiled gently and wiped away Naruto's tear. "You're not a bother, Naruto. You’re anything but.”

Feeling the weight of the past month lift off his shoulder, he returned the teen’s smile tentatively. “The new teacher is better, I don’t think he likes me very much, but I’m finally passing my tests and getting to train with the others.”

Humming, Itachi settled back into his seat. “Well, if he ever acts on his feelings or shows any hint of mistreatment towards you, I need you to tell me, or shisui.” Itachi speaks slowly, wanting the boy to understand the urgency of his request. “That goes for anyone. I will repeat it as many times as you need to hear it, but you deserve kindness, Naruto. Don’t let anyone make you believe otherwise.”

“Okay, Itachi-ni, I will.” Feeling his cheeks heat up, he spoke once more, wanting to at least reassure his friend of one thing. “I think I made a friend.”

“Really?” Itachi’s voice remained soft but his eyes seemed to light up at the quiet admission. “Tell me about them.” He wondered if perhaps his little brother had listened to his advice.

“His name is Shikamaru, he’s from the Nara clan.” Naruto answered, negating his previous thought. “He was the one who told people about Jiro-sensei. He helped me a lot.”

“I see…” Itachi whispered, a small smile stretching his features, wrinkling his eyes. “I’m glad.”

They spent the rest of the night catching up, it had been a while since they’d seen each other in more than a passing interaction. Naruto had missed the older boy.

Sadly, Itachi’s duties would only get harder as time went on.

 

___________________________________

 

Later, after Itachi had left, he met up with Shisui. Watching the older teen stroll up to where Itachi was waiting. Shisui had a friendly smile on his face, and his eyes sparkled with a sense of curiosity. He greeted Itachi with a playful nudge.

"Hey, Itachi! What's the word on the street?" Shisui asked, his voice filled with a cheerful tone.

Itachi returned the smile but with a hint of seriousness. "Shisui, I've got something important to discuss. It's about Naruto and what's been going on at the academy."

Shisui's expression shifted from cheerful curiosity to concern as he registered the change in Itachi's demeanor. "Naruto? What's been happening?"

Itachi began to recount the situation, explaining how he had overheard conversations and discovered Naruto's mistreatment by his previous teacher, the chunin know as Jiro Takeda. He highlighted the need for support and vigilance to ensure Naruto's well-being.

Shisui listened intently, his usual cheerfulness giving way to a more thoughtful expression. "Wow, that's tough. We can't let him go through something like that again, -tachi."

Itachi nodded in agreement. "Exactly. I've assured Naruto that we're here for him. But we need to watch out for him." Looking to the side, falling quiet for a moment, he continued. “Shisui… He didn’t think he deserved help, it was like he expected that kind of treatment.”

“Can you really blame him? It’s all he’s ever known.” Shisui replied, just as solemn.

“We need to try and make him understand otherwise.”

Shisui's cheerful spirit began to reemerge as he said, "Right on, Itachi! We should also make sure he knows he's part of our family, and that we've got his back."

Itachi smiled, appreciating Shisui's unwavering support and positive attitude. They’d find a way to help him feel valued and accepted. That, he promised.

Little did they know, they wouldn’t have the opportunity.

As dark forces seemed to converge on the village. Their life as they’ve gotten used to live it, would soon take a turn for the worst.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10 and 11 already posted, link in bio

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Notes:

Thank you for all your comments and support! They make me really happy and they motivate me immensely.

Chapter 10: Hold on

Iruka doesn't know what to think, what to feel, or what to expect. He'd always wanted to teach, in fact, he'd been begging the Hokage for a spot at the academy. Having learned long ago that he wanted to play a hand in shaping the young, growing minds of the village’s most precious treasures. And yet, standing there, staring at the boy who’d held within him his most twisted nightmares, he didn’t know what to do.

How was one supposed to react, staring at such a creature? He remembers it oh so vividly, it makes his heart twist, his eyes clenching tight as if to dispel the horrid image, banish it from his thoughts and into the depth of his soiled mind. Six years ago, a monster had been unleashed and with its freedom, it had taken the people Iruka had loved most in this life. His safety, his worth, his warmth. All of it.

Staring at the vessel sitting in front of him, he can’t quite rid himself of the thought. Comparable to an incarnation of a mirage, tendrils alive and swaying twist their hold around the boy, making it hard to truly see anything other than what resides within him.

He’d been advised to disregard the boy, a nuisance worth no more than the flies he’d swat away during his lectures. One to be ignored and shunned. And yet, why was it so hard to do so?

The boy was quiet, withdrawn, never interrupting, and never trying to stand out. Somehow, he'd expected something entirely too different. Something about him unsettled Iruka to the core. And, to his ever-rising shock, it had nothing to do with the monster he stored within him.

Slowly, as if without him ever noticing anything different, he'd started seeing behind the pitch-black tendrils enveloping his vision.

What he found was in some ways, worse than what his troubled mind had conjured. Somehow, instead of the dark creature he'd fooled himself into seeing he'd discovered something far worse. As time went by, as he let himself open his eyes and really look at what was waiting before him, he finally got to see what he'd been hiding from his very own perception. A twisted mirror image, rippling like the murky waters of a running river, was a reflection of himself. One so small, and very much alone.

It made his insides twist, palms clenching with the need to push the entire thing away, expel it from his attention, and go back to his cowardly ignorance.

Because surely, the source of his most vivid, heart-wrenching nightmares wasn't this small, lonely child.

 "-Sensei?" The words snapped him out of his daze, his face hot with the sudden realization that he'd been standing there, frozen solid while staring at his student. Looking away, noting the hunched shoulders and the stiffness of his posture, he resolved himself to proceed with the lesson without any more life-altering realizations.

“Sorry, Sakura-chan, could you repeat that?” He answered, keeping his voice light despite the trembling of his fingers, thankfully hidden within his sleeves.

“You were asking who wanted to go up to the board for the next question, can I do it.” She wasn’t really asking, he thought with slight amusement.

"Sorry Sakura, but you've answered the last two haven't you? Why don't we let your classmates have a turn too? I'm sure some of them would like to." He'd barely finished his sentence before multiple arms shot up high. Letting his gaze wash over the little ninjas in the making, he readied himself for what he was about to do. Breathing in deeply through his nose, he plastered a smile onto his face, overlooking the sea of hands for the only figure sitting with both arms down. Blonde strands swayed with the slight breath trickling into the classroom through the open window, drawing attention to the deep blue of the boy's eyes as they parted and collided.

“H-how about you, Naruto?” He hated how his voice broke, betraying the discomfort he felt. “Would you like to give it a go?” The boy in question jumped at being so suddenly singled out. Eyes wide with shock as for the first time since Iruka stepped into the classroom a week ago, addressed him directly, even if a little hesitantly.

As if to emphasize his bewilderment, or maybe to prove to Iruka how much of an idiot he's been, the boy turned around, as if to check for some other student sitting at the back of the class. One that shared his name and wasn't usually ignored and overlooked.

The question of ‘Me?’ So clear on his young face, made something in his chest constrict painfully.

“Of course, Profes- I- I mean s-sensei." He fumbled, rising to his feet, and walking up to the board. His steps were slow and tentative, as if afraid of suddenly stepping on a minefield. And Iruka supposed, that’s what he’s been doing for his entire academic experience. Treading a dangerous minefield, afraid that any wrong move would turn against him, break whatever fragile foothold he’d gotten all on his own.

The question in itself wasn’t a particularly hard one, however, it was tricky if one hadn’t paid attention to Iruka’s lecture. A question meant to test the attentiveness of his students.

Having ignored the child before him for so long, he expected the sentiment to be reciprocated. He wouldn’t have taken it personally, knowing that he deserved to get just as much as he gave. Naruto had no reason to listen to a teacher who didn’t acknowledge his existence. And so, when the boy completed the required assignment and answered without much fanfare, he was dumbstruck.

He'd made a lot of mistakes in his life. He doesn't think he's even been more wrong than right in this instance, however.

"Good job, Naruto." He praises softly, feeling the words drop like lead in his stomach. The boy drops the chalk back onto its resting place, already making his way back to his back seat. One he occupied alone.

He doesn’t miss the wide-eye look in his eyes. Still seemingly stupefied by Iruka’s basic human decency.

Like wisps of a dying flame, he sees the final tendrils of darkness release the boy, disappearing into nothingness, leaving behind a lonely, brilliant child in their wake.

 

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After that day, Naruto could safely say that his academic experience had greatly improved. It made him wonder what happened to Iruka-Sensei to suddenly change his tune so thoroughly. Going from ignoring Naruto's existence entirely with hate-filled eyes to treating him like any other student. He soon found himself being called upon regularly, his grades improving greatly as he was finally graded fairly and with no contempt. His classmates must have sensed the change, for they too started treading more carefully around him in class. As if sensing now, that the teacher wouldn’t let any bullying slide now that he started treating Naruto like a normal kid.

Naruto had Shikamaru to thank for all of this. If it wasn’t for the Nara, he’d still be stuck with Jiro-Sensei’s brand of treatment. He wondered how he could make it up to the kid.

He still hesitated to call their relationship an actual friendship. He tried to avoid interacting with the boy when there were eyes around them. Being seen in public with him would be social suicide, and in no way would he let himself become a liability to one of the few kind people in his life.

And so, their interactions remained very rare and few in between. Shikamaru himself didn't seem to get the message, however. Always tried to talk to him during breaks or when he spotted him walking along the village road. He'd have to try harder to avoid him, in the future.

Shikamaru had plenty of friends, he didn’t need Naruto’s brand of awkward friendship. The Akamichi kid who never seemed to leave his side was one example of said friends.

Besides, Naruto was currently more preoccupied with Itachi and Shisui’s recent abnormal behavior. They’d been pulling away for months, their missions and work getting busier and somewhat more serious as time trickled by. Naruto could see it in the spark that ever so slowly dimmed in the older men’s eyes. The once vibrant Shisui slowly turned more solemn with time. He could feel it in the sad aura that seemed to loom over Itachi on the best of days. They'd still drop by relatively often but somehow it felt as though they were stretching further and further out of his grasp.

Somehow, for once, he didn’t think it was anything that he’d done. He doesn’t know if that made everything worse or not.

In short, he was worried. More so with every passing day.

It’s been weeks now since he’d seen Shisui. Even Itachi, sitting in front of him, munching on his dango- a sweet that Naruto never expected the older boy to be so fond of- seemed distracted. His gaze was troubled, looking as if his mind was miles away. The teen had dropped by to give Naruto his groceries for the week, having stayed after some light pleading, content to sit with him in contemplative silence as they both ate.

His eyes kept switching from the table to the window and back as if he was expecting something to pop right into the room from there.

“So, Shisui-ni was busy tonight?” The ‘again’ was left unspoken. They both knew it hadn’t been the first time Naruto asked about the other teen in the past few days.

Itachi only hummed, eyes lowering just slightly to face him before switching back to the glass separating them from the night sky outside.

"What's going on with you guys?" He finally asked, feeling more than a little lost, and frustrated. He never liked being kept in the dark. "You keep saying I should come to you if there's something wrong, but you guys never tell me anything." He continued, voice rising as he left his food untouched, standing up from his seat in an effort to ease some of the tension he could feel building in his shoulders. The lights above him flickered momentarily.

“That’s different, Naruto, you know that.” Itachi seemed to finally focus back on him. Voice soft, sounding even more exhausted than he looked.

“Why? –cause I’m just a kid, right?” He asked mockingly, hating the way his voice cracked with youth. If only the other teen knew what he’d seen, what he’d lived through, what he remembered. “You know I’m not helpless, if you guys talked to me, maybe I could help!”

Itachi’s figure seemed to tense even more at his words, sighing heavily as he regarded him through tired eyes. “You don’t need to worry yourself, Naruto.” He started. “Everything will be alright.” The words seemed to pain him to say, as if he himself was having trouble believing them. It made something within his heart constrict and twist.

At that exact moment, a crow knocked against the apartment window. Instantly drawing both their attentions to it. It was one of Itachi’s summons, that he had no doubt. However, what was strange was the paper tied onto the bird’s leg.

Sliding the glass upward, the ninja didn’t waste any time unwrapping the parchment, dark eyes narrowing as he read whatever was etched onto it.

In the somber depths of the forest, Naruto trailed in silent pursuit of Itachi, like a shadow chasing its elusive host through the dimly lit, ancient woods. His steps were as soft as whispers, a dance with the leaves underfoot, for the gravity of the moment demanded it. He watched Itachi clench a piece of parchment, a tense grip that crumpled the paper, the harbinger of fate. Unspoken words hung in the air, shrouded in an ethereal veil.

"Shisui," he heard Itachi murmur, his voice a mere sigh, an intimate secret shared with the rustling leaves. The crumpled paper, clenched within a fist, betrayed his inner turmoil, a silent cry for help that Naruto could not ignore. "I have to go, Naruto," Itachi declared, already moving away, his dark eyes carrying the weight of secrets too profound. "Stay here," he commanded, heedless of the parchment left behind in his haste.

With dread washing over him like a chilling wave, Naruto wasted no time unraveling the paper and beholding its contents, a message in the familiar script of Shisui. The words on the parchment seemed to mock him: "Meet at the usual place, RED." It was clear that urgency hung in the balance, demanding his attention. Worry and fear welled up within him as he wracked his brain for any trace of this mysterious place, a location that bore significance to both Itachi and Shisui.

Unbidden, a memory surfaced, a recollection of the three of them training on a tranquil evening. Shisui had spoken with reverence about a particular locale, a place of breathtaking beauty nestled beside a forest clearing adorned with a majestic waterfall, a sanctuary for exercise and sparring. Hope began to stir in Naruto's heart as he trusted his intuition and quickly donned his shoes, racing toward the unknown destination.

As he sped through the forest, his thoughts whirled in a chaotic frenzy. Could this cryptic message be leading to an ordinary rendezvous between friends, or was it a clandestine meeting to discuss ninja matters? His legs burned with the exertion, but the months of arduous training had prepared him for this very moment. Itachi would have reached the destination long before, and Naruto couldn't afford to arrive late, not knowing what might befall his friend in the meantime.

The forest's embrace deepened, the moonlight barely piercing the dense canopy. The foliage conspired to obscure the heavens, plunging Naruto into an eerie darkness. His lungs seared with every breath, but he pressed on. At last, he glimpsed the clearing ahead, the sound of rushing water drawing closer as he approached the cascading waterfall.

Stumbling to a halt just a few meters from his destination, Naruto gasped for air and steadied his racing heart. He veiled himself in shadows, employing every covert technique the Anbu had imparted to him. Creeping closer, he could hear their voices before he could see them. Two silhouettes engaged in hushed conversation, their words indecipherable.

Climbing a tree to secure a vantage point, Naruto's eyes widened as the heart-wrenching tableau unfolded before him. Itachi's back concealed Shisui, yet the sight that met Naruto's gaze nearly caused him to falter. Shisui's face was marred by blood, his closed eyes bleeding a dark, macabre red. The crimson rivulets traced tortured paths down his pale cheeks, a grotesque contrast against the obsidian night.

A wave of fear and concern washed over Naruto as he witnessed the battered state of his friend and older brother. Every word that Shisui spoke felt like a dagger plunged into his heart. "Tell him I'm sorry too, I never meant for it to end like this," Shisui's words resonated with a haunting finality. As if compelled by an invisible force, Shisui's body succumbed, falling backward.

Naruto's scream pierced the silence of the forest, a primal cry born from the depths of his soul. He was thrust into a nightmarish maelstrom, reality blurring with his deepest fears as Shisui's body was replaced with the falling figure of a loved one, swallowed by a translucent, spectral vortex.

Within Naruto, an inferno of emotion ignited, and his magic surged, a tempestuous force clamoring to be unleashed. His entire being felt as if it were aflame, nightmares transmuting into a horrifying reality. One moment he clung to the tree branch, and the next he was there, extending his arm, fingers outstretched to grasp Shisui's descending form, desperate to secure even a fragment of his friend.

In an instant, he realized he had Apparated, but his small form couldn't bear the weight of Shisui. Two arms encircled his legs, arresting his descent by a fraction, but the pain seared through him as his body collided with the unforgiving rocks below. His fingers clutched Shisui's hand as though it were a lifeline, nails gouging into pale flesh, eyes wide with despair.

"Hold on!" he cried out, tears streaming down his face, vision blurred as he fought to prevent Shisui from plummeting to his demise. His bones creaked under the unbearable strain, teetering on the precipice of failure.

"Naruto..." The Uchiha's voice quavered with shock and sorrow, his expression crumbling as he realized who had caught him. "I'm sorry." Shisui's trembling fingers reached into a pouch, bewildering Naruto as they drew forth a kunai and slashed at his own hand. The sudden pain in Naruto's hand was eclipsed by the agony in his heart as Shisui slipped from his grasp like sand slipping through his fingers. "Goodbye," the whispered words brushed against his ears, while Naruto felt as though he, too, was sinking into the abyss, vanishing within the raging waters.

 

Naruto's hand clenched and unclenched, struggling to accept the void where Shisui had been. Was this reality?

Something pulled at his legs, yanking him back onto the rocky ledge. He writhed against the restraining arms, scratching and clawing, his throat raw from cries of anguish. "Let me go, let me go, let me go," he chanted, the words etching themselves into his very soul. The arms held him steadfast, unwilling to yield to his demands. "We have to save him! He's down there! Let me go!" The thundering water roared in his ears, mingling with the labored breath of the boy who held him. "P-please!"

Itachi forcibly turned Naruto to face him, their eyes locking amidst the chaos. Blurred vision met dark, abyssal eyes, vivid with mirrored sorrow, and something else—an unfathomable enigma embedded in the symbols that danced in Itachi's red, bleeding eyes.

"Stop," Itachi said, his voice still gentle despite the tempest Naruto saw in his eyes. His hands rose to cradle Naruto's face, a touch that felt harsher than any they had ever shared. "He's gone." The words pained both of them, stabbing Naruto's heart. Itachi's fingers trembled but refrained from offering further solace. "He's gone, and there's nothing we can do."

Red-hot anger ignited in Naruto's chest, a fury that raged within him. His words burst forth before he could restrain them. "W-why did he—why didn't you stop him!" He shouted, pushing Itachi's hands away, creating a chasm between them. His words tore down the walls that had protected Itachi's emotions, and he instantly regretted them.

"I'm sorry," Itachi whispered, his hands reaching out but recoiling a moment later, as if fearing further rejection. And Naruto was sorry, too, with every fiber of his being.

As the adrenaline finally receded, exhaustion washed over Naruto, draining the energy from his body. Dark spots danced in his vision, his magic retreating to its depths, leaving him in a state of excruciating pain. Moments later, he crumpled to the ground, almost lifeless in the face of overwhelming despair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11 and soon 12 up on the link in my bio

insta bio

Notes:

Hope you guys like this one, things are starting to get serious

Chapter 11: Drowning

Naruto awoke with a jolt, gasping for air as his eyelids fluttered open, greeted by the cracks and stains of his apartment ceiling. He lay on his bed, disoriented and shrouded in a suffocating emptiness. The room was still, save for the faint glow of moonlight that seeped through the window, casting long, eerie shadows on the walls. The familiar surroundings only deepened the hollowness that had taken root in his chest, an abyss that threatened to consume him.

He felt hollow, entirely and completely drowning in the void he could feel creeping out to surround his heart. Like the vines of devil snare, sadness wrapped his body in its clutches, squeezing until all he could feel was sorrow and pain. It wound into his bones, the deepest crevices of his organs, of his heart, and remaining burrowed there, Naruto doubted it would leave anytime soon.

He'd almost forgotten, how it felt, this devastating, all-consuming loss. It seems that he'd gotten too comfortable, too greedy and complacent. Anything and everything he loved was eventually lost, that was the rule he had lived by in his previous life. A predominant prophecy that was both inevitable and unavoidable. He was a bloody fool to think that this one would be any different.

He closed his eyes, breathing in, and was immediately accosted by the haunting image of Shisui’s falling form. Two arms rose to pull at his face, burrowing into his golden hair and pulling, as if to physically dispel the memory. It only helped to make it worse. Memories overlapped and overtook each other, Sirius’s blank, shocked gaze, Cedric’s petrified eyes, too open to have realized what had happened to him, Lupin and Tonk’s hands holding onto each other almost desperately even in death. Fred’s cold skin, blue in its hue as his brother wept over his corpse. Shisui’s last apology as he plunged to his death, a sad smile twisting his bloodied face as gravity took its hold. A sob broke out of him as he scratched at his head, eyes flying open as he lurched forward, wanting nothing more than to shut off his mind, to make it all stop.

He was heaving, his chest expanding unnaturally as he tried to settle his racing heart. He was gone, he was really, truly gone, wasn't he? The boy who’s shown him the meaning of kindness, who made him feel cared for when everything in this world pointed otherwise, was gone, just like that.

He wasn’t just gone, no, he’d chosen to kill himself. To leave the world and everyone in it behind. To leave his village, his clan, to leave Itachi. To leave him.

And Itachi, oh how it must have hurt him. He thought with mounting anguish. Where was the teen now, was he alone? Had he- had he abandoned him too?

It was then that he finally looked around, hoping to find any trace of his friend there with him. His feet felt unstable as he shuffled onto them. Scrapes and cuts littered his limbs like paint on a chaotic canvas, a testament to the struggle he'd put up back on that cliff. The ache in his joints, and his shoulders only serve to underline the memory.

His gaze drifted to his bedside table, where, to his surprise and dread, a small note lay. With trembling fingers, arms tentative and shaking with anxiety, he raised it to the light, eyes squeezing shut as he read the words imprinted into the fraying parchment.

In black, shaky ink, two simple words were written. "I'm sorry." The message was like a scar carved into his skin, a haunting lament that seared into his very being.

He could be wrong, this could mean just that, that he was sorry for their loss, but somehow, deep down, Naruto knew that it wasn’t the case.

He was gone, wasn’t he? Naruto couldn’t picture him anywhere but at his side otherwise.

The realization hit Naruto like a stunner straight to the chest, and he felt as though a part of his very soul had been torn away. The room was silent, but the void within him echoed with the silence of abandonment. He had been left alone, alone with the tormenting questions that clawed at his mind, leaving him feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

The room seemed to close in on him, its fraying walls serving as silent witnesses to his grief. Shadows danced in the corners as if mocking him, and he longed for the lightness of the forest, the cascade of the waterfall, and the shared pain that he had felt with Itachi.

His hand trembled as he clutched the crumpled note, a lifeline to a connection now severed. The world outside was still, unmoving as if time itself had come to a standstill. The apartment that had once been his sanctuary had become a mausoleum of memories, each corner echoing with the laughter, the companionship, and the unspoken bond that had once flourished between them.

The room seemed to whisper of loneliness, its stillness a haunting presence that enveloped Naruto. He yearned for Itachi's return, for an explanation, for the comfort of that connection, but the silence was all that remained. The emptiness of the apartment mirrored the void within Naruto's heart, and he felt like a solitary wanderer in a desolate landscape of despair.

Naruto's sobs, like a mournful symphony, resonated in the quiet apartment. He was lost in a labyrinth of his own emotions, grappling with the anguish of Itachi's abrupt departure and the lingering questions that tormented his soul. The world had become a place of isolation, and he longed for closure, for the reunion of the broken bonds, and for the solace that would allow him to mend his fractured heart.

Through it all, Itachi watched from the shadows, perched just out of sight, feeling a heavy weight settle in his chest. His heart ached as he witnessed the depth of Naruto's grief. The boy's tears were like falling stars, illuminating the vast expanse of the room and highlighting the chasm that had suddenly opened between them. Itachi longed to step out of the darkness, to offer comfort and explanations, but he knew that this was a choice he had to make – a choice that would save Naruto from the darkness that was to come.

From his concealed vantage point, the ninja’s eyes remained locked on the heart-wrenching scene. The moonlight bathed the room in a surreal glow, casting long, ghostly shadows that danced to the rhythm of Naruto's cries. The bond they had shared, forged in the crucible of joint moments and whispered confidences, had now been shattered, and the agony etched into Naruto's features was a reflection of the torment that gripped Itachi's own soul.

Itachi’s fingers trembled as he clutched them to his chest, Naruto’s agony threatened to devour him.

And yet, he knew, that he couldn’t do anything about it. He had condemned himself to a path that was dark and treacherous, and he couldn't bear to drag Naruto, a boy who had become like a younger brother to him, deeper into that abyss. The pain of parting was a searing blade in his chest, but Itachi knew that it was necessary, for Naruto's safety, and the fate of the village.

The Uchiha clan, with its intricate web of secrets, ambitions, and enmities, had always been a labyrinth that Itachi had navigated with the extremists of cautions. The memories of his family, the elders who had set him on this perilous path, hung over him like a storm cloud.

His impending decision loomed like a thunderhead on the horizon of his thoughts. The village was on the brink of chaos, and the Uchiha clan's aspirations threatened to push them into a catastrophic confrontation. Itachi's loyalties were a fragile balance, a tightrope walk between his commitment to the village and the ties that bound him to his clan.

With a heart heavy as lead, Itachi understood that a moment of reckoning was inexorably approaching. The fate of his clan, the security of the village, and the ideals he had held dear were all inextricably intertwined. He had to make a choice, a choice that would not only reshape the course of his life but also leave scars on his very soul. Condemning him or absolving him, he knew not. The weight of that decision pressed upon him like a mountain, threatening to crush him under its immense burden. It seemed that he would be losing everything he held dear either way.

Itachi's eyes lifted back to lock on Naruto, the boy who had become an unexpected source of light in his shadowed existence. He mourned the loss of their bond, his heart shattering with each of Naruto's heartrending sobs. The guilt was a relentless storm that raged within him, but he knew that there was no turning back. The path he had chosen was one fraught with darkness, and the choices he was about to make would set in motion a cascade of events that would challenge his resolve, redefine his destiny, and cast a shadow that would linger long after the tears had dried.

His mind was haunted by the memory of another soul-crushing loss he had endured—Shisui Uchiha. Shisui, his best friend and brother in all but name, had been a steadfast presence in Itachi's life. The memories of their shared laughter, their dreams, and the countless missions they had undertaken together, painted a vivid portrait of their unbreakable bond.

His absence now weighed heavily on his heart. Having ceased to exist right before his very eyes. The image was forever etched into his consciousness like a scar that refused to fade. Shisui's face, twisted in pain and determination, his empty eyes reflecting the abyss of despair, was a visage that Itachi could never forget.

The moment Shisui had leaped into the abyss, something profound had shifted within him. A surge of emotions, a tumultuous mixture of guilt, grief, and despair, had consumed him. Itachi's Mangekyo Sharingan had awakened in that heart-rending instant, a testament to the anguish and turmoil that had engulfed his soul. The visual manifestation of his loss, his despair, and his irreversible transformation had come at a devastating cost.

The awakening of his Mangekyo had not been a gift, but a curse, a reminder of the price he had paid for the choices he had made. Itachi knew that he couldn't afford to show weakness, not to his clan, not to the village, and certainly not to himself. But in the depths of his heart, he mourned Shisui's loss, a pain that was as inescapable as the dark shadows that now danced in his once-vibrant eyes.

Beyond the window, the village lay in restless slumber, blissfully unaware of the tempest that churned within, of the doom that had been set in stone the moment Shisui Uchiha had thrown himself to the gallows.

Itachi's gaze remained fixed on Naruto as the boy crumbled to the ground, drawing his knees up to his chest, hiding his grief and pain from the world. This child, this boy who had come to matter so much to him. He couldn't help but see a reflection of his own pain in Naruto's anguish, the shared experience of losing someone dear. Itachi's heart ached for the boy who was now grieving a loss that was all too familiar, and he wished he could offer solace, even as he grappled with his own turbulent emotions.

And still, he remained bolted in place, body refusing to move even as his heart urged him to break the distance and comfort the boy.

He stayed there, feeling the cold seep into his skin, tears frying on his freezing skin, until the first rays of light seeped into the sky, painting the world in a melancholic glow, bathing the trees with a new-found warmth.

He sat there, crouched in silent vigil, watching for what felt like possibly the last time, over the small boy. He could almost hear Shisui’s voice taunting him from his side. ‘Are you seriously going to stand all the way out here?’ He would have asked, tone teasing despite the serious look in his eyes. ‘Didn’t we say we were going to try and show him what it means to be a family?’ His heart panged and he failed miserably at keeping his composure as a new wave of guilt hit him. This was it, wasn’t it? This was where it would all start. The long line of sins and depravities he was going to commit. This was the point of no return.

Suddenly feeling as though his presence alone would taint the world around him, he dropped down to the ground. Unable to bear the sight any longer.

Naruto had long fallen asleep, huddled on the cold tiles of the floor, as if through a feeble attempt to protect himself from the horrors of the world around him.

With agony in his chest and heartbreak in his soul, Itachi walked away. He needed to talk to the Clan, he needed to talk to the elders. He needed to give Danzo his answer.

It was then that Itachi realized that his decision had already been made. He had only to go through with it. It seemed that hell itself awaited him now, and all he had to do was walk willingly into its fiery embrace.

 

 

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The days passed like the trickling sand of an hourglass, sluggish and hazy in their varieties, passing without truly being perceived by Naruto’s unanchored consciousness. He doesn’t know how long he stays there, nestled into the somber expanse of his cold room. The shadows and lights seemed to blend together, creating a perfect graveyard of colors. It made it impossible for Naruto to tell how much time had passed and how many days had flown by while he remained there, wishing for the floor to swallow him up, for his body to turn to dust and disappear.

Maybe if he stayed there long enough, then the hunger and pain would finally take hold of him. He supposed that he had more people waiting for him on the other side than on this one. So, really, what did he have to lose?

He winced at the thought, practically imagining Shisui’s glare at his morbid thoughts. But then again, what right would he have to judge him? Anger and grief warred with each other. He couldn't be mad at the dead, and yet, he was. With every fiber of his being, he was livid. The kind of fury that burned and froze simultaneously everything in its wake. Along with the anger, came the guilt. If he had been faster, if he had actual control of his magic, if he had been a better friend. If, if, if.

He wanted to shout, to break things, and yet, memories from long past told him that it wouldn’t solve anything. It didn’t stop the light from flickering around him, nor did it prevent the glass from vibrating with every bout of anguish that pooled out of him in waves.

A loud growl echoed through the emptiness, his hunger rearing its ugly head back at him. Sighing softly, he turned to lay on his side, his body feeling heavy as he clutched the bed sheets tighter. He should get up, he knew. If he stayed like this anymore, he would soon wither away.

As he contemplated that morosely inviting thought, a knock suddenly sounded from the door to his apartment. His heart rate skyrocketed. Hope flares in his gut as he unwillingly pictures Itachi’s waiting form.

On shaky, fragile legs, he got up, one hand holding the wall for support as he made his way to the door.

“Naruto-kun?” A voice, distinctly not Itachi’s questioned just as his fingers wrapped around the doorknob.

He could almost see the metaphorical weight of his hope getting crushed beneath his heels. Pathetic, he was really pathetic. His eyes watered against his will, and he blinked rapidly to dispel the evidence of his sorrow. Although, he figured that it wouldn’t do much to hide the days’ worth of evidence lingering on his skin, on his entire body.

Looking at his figure reflected in the tinted glass to the side of his door, he could see the grease in his hair, golden locks weighed down by their own consistency, sticking to his forehead in a curtain. His eyes were swelled, dark bruises inclosing his red-rimmed orbs like a frame. His skin was a shade of pale that spoke of an already long-buried corpse. In short, he looked awful.

“Naruto-kun?” The voice repeated softly. “Are you there?”

“Wh-who is it?” He winced as his voice sounded hoarse, dryness scraping his throat with every syllable, a reminder of his growing thirst and the hours he’d spent sobbing his heart out.

“It’s me, Ayame." Oh, he hadn't expected it to be her, despite the feminine tilt to her voice. "We heard about- about everything." She seemed to gather herself before continuing. "We were worried about you, Dad figured some food would help. Can you open the door for me, please?"

Panic, hot and scalding flared inside of him. He couldn’t let her, or anyone see him like this. So pathetic and weak. He couldn’t burden anyone else with his problem, not again. His heart hardened as he came to a decision then. He’d made a mistake getting that close with anyone, he wouldn’t go through with this again. “I can’t” He whispered, a promise to the world and more importantly, to himself.

"O-Oh." She seemed taken back by his response, as if not expecting it. "W-well, I'll just leave it right here, alright?" She fumbled her words, and a distinct sound of a plastic bag hitting the ground softly emanated from behind the door. "Please take care of yourself, Naruto." She whispered, sadness coating her words. "We care about you." She said louder, and he could hear her hand touching the door as if hesitating. "I'll let you rest." She said finally, before taking her leave.

He could feel his energy dwindle with every step he heard her take, fading as she got further and further away. With trembling fingers he opened the door, eyes falling to the discarded bag. A rich, delicious aroma wafted from it and he almost let himself cry again. Still, he gathered himself and the food and shuffled back into his room.

If a few tears escaped him as he ate his ramen, then no one was there to witness it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

chapter 12 already up! 

link here in my insta bio

Notes:

comments are always a good motivator so don't hesitate to let me know what you think!

Chapter 12: Carnage

Weeks had passed since Naruto had secluded himself within the confines of his apartment, drowning in the choking emptiness that had taken root within his heart. But grief, as time stretched on, slowly morphed into a simmering feeling he could sense slowly suffocating him each minute he remained secluded inside this tiny, dark space. Ayame and sometimes, even Iruka-sensei had tried to get him to come out, and yet, he remained inside. Willing in vain his world to rearrange itself, to make everything right again.

It took him a while to finally identify what was making his chest feel like it was on fire.

Anger. A searing inferno that boiled down to his very bones and brewed within him. A fury fueled by the unanswered questions surrounding, Shisui’s death, Itachi's disappearance, and the haunting reality of his absence.

One moonless night, as the shadows loomed large and the whispers of the wind echoed tales of unrest, Naruto made a decision. Fueled by a newfound determination, he ventured out from the margins of his apartment. With a steely resolve, he embarked on a journey to seek answers, the kind only Itachi could provide. Each step felt like a battle against the weight of his own emotions, a relentless struggle against the emptiness that gnawed at his soul.

Naruto's footsteps echoed through the silent streets, a stark contrast to the bustling energy the village usually held. The air felt thick with unspoken tension, whispers of secrets lurking in the shadows.

As he got closer to his destination, the silence grew thicker, pressing against him like an invisible barrier.

Approaching the Uchiha compound was akin to stepping into a ghostly realm. Confusion and horror bloomed in his chest at the sight that greeted him.

The looming structures stood like silent sentinels, haunted remnants of what was once a thriving community. The once-vibrant buildings now exuded an aura of desolation, their broken windows and dilapidated structures telling tales of despair.

He had expected life, the hustle and bustle of the Uchiha district at night was reknowned, after all. Instead, it was a ghost town. No familiar sounds, no lights in the windows, just an unsettling void. His heart raced, unsure what to expect. He never imagined the reality that awaited him.

Bloodstains painted the walls, stark against the pale moonlight. The smell of iron stung his nostrils, a sharp tang in the air. His eyes widened, trying to comprehend the chaos before him. Broken homes, belongings strewn about—fear and panic seemed to have torn through every inch of this place.

It hit him like a bolt of lightning—he hadn't expected this. No one had prepared him for the sight of destruction and death. The shock wrapped around him like a suffocating blanket, leaving him gasping for breath.

Naruto’s mind raced to find a logical explanation, a way to make sense of the nightmare before him. But it was too much, too sudden. It felt like the world had turned upside down, and he was stumbling through it, desperately trying to understand what he couldn't grasp.

All he wanted was to turn away, escape this haunting scene. It was too real, too overwhelming. The weight of the unknown, the absence of answers—those feelings crashed over him like a tidal wave, leaving him stranded in a sea of confusion and disbelief.

The deeper Naruto ventured into the compound, the more chilling the sights became. Gore and blood adorned the walls, as if a scarlet paint had been carelessly thrown across a canvas. Hands and footprints were smeared on most every surface, creating before him a scene straight out of a horror story. Clear signs of struggle and torture materializing right before his eyes.

His mind flashed to the war he'd lived through, creating parallels where he hoped there would never be within this lifetime. Bile rose in his throat and he held white knuckles to his mouth to keep the contents of his stomach inside where they belonged.

Broken remnants of what were once homes bore witness to the carnage. A child's lonely toy lay abandoned amidst the debris, a stark testament to lives shattered in an instant. Each step forward felt like a plunge into a bottomless pit of horror, the weight of the tragedy threatening to suffocate Naruto.

As he wandered through the compound's desolation, steps faster with each sight that greeted him, the chaos surrounding him made his thoughts whirl. Itachi—his name echoed in his mind like a plea for reassurance. He couldn't shake the images of him amidst this devastation. Fear for his safety gnawed at Naruto, every step forward intensifying the turmoil in his heart.

Questions ricocheted through his mind like a never-ending storm. Was he here? Was he safe? Had he been caught in this catastrophe? The thought of Itachi facing such danger pierced him like a dagger, a cold dread settling deep within. Had he lost him too?

He wanted to believe he wasn't there—that he was alright. But the scenes of destruction around him shattered that hope. What if he had been here when all of this happened? The possibility was unbearable, a knot of worry tightening in his chest.

Itachi was elusive, an enigma wrapped in mysteries he couldn't comprehend. His presence was both a source of comfort and protection, and the thought of him being entangled in this tragedy sent shivers down Naruto’s spine. And despite his anger, Naruto desperately wished for his safety, but the unknown loomed like a menacing shadow, casting doubt upon his hopes.

The need to find answers, to ensure Itachi's well-being, clawed at him relentlessly. But amidst the chaos and devastation, locating him seemed an impossible task. It felt like searching for a needle in a haystack, a daunting and nearly hopeless endeavor.

Terror clenched his chest as he staggered back, retracing his steps out of the compound. He believed, in that moment, that Itachi lay among the fallen, lost to the brutality that surrounded him.

Racing back to the village, his heart pounding in his ears, Naruto sought the only authority figure he thought could shed light on this nightmare—the Hokage. Driven by desperation, he reached the Sandaime's office. Knowing that despite the late hour, the man would still be there, filling out some paperwork as was his habit.

The boy stood outside the Hokage's towering doors, a solitary figure amidst the dimly lit corridor. His determination masked the turmoil brewing within, a storm of emotions raging just beneath the surface. Anbu suddenly appeared then, blocking his entry, their stern expressions reflecting a reluctance to allow him inside.

He pleaded with them, an urgency in his eyes that spoke volumes, a silent plea to be heard. But their orders were clear, and their stance remained unyielding. The tension in the air was palpable, a battle of wills unfolding before the sealed door. “I need to see him, please, tell him I need to talk to him!” He shouted, aware of the late hours of the night and yet uncaring in the least.

“Scram brat, Lord Third is busy.”

Frustration stirred within him and he slipped between the pair, ignoring their shouts of indignation as he dashed towards the closed door, banging on it relentlessly, his voice rising. A last, desperate attempt to break through the barriers that stood between him and the truth.

A hand snagged his collar, constricting the air in his throat with the pressure as the guard tried to pull him back. However, Naruto clutched at the door's handle in a death grip, unyielding as he kicked out his legs in an attempt to keep banging on the hardwood.

The commotion outside the Hokage's office did not go unnoticed. Sensing the urgency, Sarutobi himself emerged from behind the closed door. “What in god’s name is happening here?” His voice resounded loudly, complete stillness following his words.

“This brat wouldn’t take no for an answer, Lord Third.” One of the Anbu responded, his hand clutching at Naruto’s collar tighter, as if ready to throw him out at a moment’s notice.

“Let him go,” The Sandaime ordered, voice low and tired as he gestured for the guard to step aside, allowing the boy entrance into the chamber. Naruto didn’t miss the chance to glare at the pair one last time before the doors closed, leaving them on the other side.

In the dimly lit office, the Hokage's aged features held a mix of concern and solemnity. His gaze fixed upon the boy, recognizing the gravity of the moment. The room exuded an air of morbidity, the weight of impending revelations hanging in the air.

"Naruto," Sarutobi began, his voice gentle yet laden with the weight of knowing why the young ninja had come.

Naruto's gaze was unwavering, a torrent of emotions simmering beneath the surface. "You know why I'm here, don't you?" His words were a mix of urgency and a quiet plea for answers.

Sarutobi nodded, a pained understanding etched on his weathered features. "The Uchiha compound," Naruto's voice trembled slightly, the name leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "I- I saw- What happened there, what happened to Itachi. Is he… Is he dead?" His voice cracked on the last words, the weight of uncertainty bearing down on his shoulders.

For a fleeting moment, memories from another life flashed before Naruto's eyes. The ache of familiar pain resurfaced, whispering of a destiny shaped by tragic farewells. Was he doomed to lose everything and everyone he ever loves?

Sarutobi sighed heavily, his gaze softening with empathy for the boy standing before him. He chose his next words carefully, understanding the gravity of what he was about to disclose. "Naruto, what happened at the Uchiha compound--- Itachi…" The Hokage paused, his voice faltering momentarily, "Itachi was-“

“He’s dead, Isn’t he?” Naruto interrupted, feeling like he was going insane. “You can tell me, I can take it. Just tell me the truth. He's dead, right?" A sob broke through his throat despite his best efforts at keeping his tears at bay.

“Naruto.” The man seemed to age right before his eyes. A tired, ancient old expression of exhaustion etching itself onto his features. “Itachi is- he’s alive.” The Hokage’s words made hope within him stir, and yet his expression was no less grieved. No less solemn. It made the dread pooling in Naruto’s guts bury themselves deeper within him. “He wasn’t a victim, in fact,” The man seemed to brace himself before continuing. “In fact, he was the one behind the massacre.” His voice felt far, far away. “Uchiha Itachi killed every member of his clan. He was the one behind the bloodshed you saw tonight."

The words struck Naruto like a physical blow, the impact reverberating through every fiber of his being. He couldn't comprehend the enormity of what he had just been told. The weight of those words hung heavily in the air, a revelation that shattered the fragile hope Naruto clung to. Confusion, disbelief, and a sense of betrayal washed over him. “W-what?” His mind felt like it had been plunged into icy, frigid water. “No- What are you talking about?” He whispered brokenly, recalling the carnage he’d just witnessed. “Itachi couldn’t- he wouldn’t-“ He staggered backward, his mind unable to process the conflicting images of Itachi—kind, protective, sweet Itachi, and the one painted as the orchestrator of such horrors.

“Naruto, please have a seat. I understand this may be difficult to hear.” The Hokage urged softly, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. “You were close to Itachi but sometimes people-“

“No! You’re lying!” Naruto was going crazy, this had to be it. This was a nightmare. It had to be. “Itachi would never! He would never kill without-“

“He would Naruto. He did.” The man’s voice hardened, despite the different story unfolding within his gaze. As if he himself didn’t believe in his own words. It made the whirlwind inside Naruto roar with confusion and loss.

"No, I- I don’t believe you-" Naruto's voice was barely a whisper, grappling with the enormity of the revelation. "W-why? Why would he do that?" His mind raced, trying to reconcile the image of the kind-hearted older brother he knew Itachi to be with this incomprehensible truth.

Sarutobi's voice held a solemn tone as he continued, "There were... reasons, Naruto. Deep, complex reasons. Ones that may never fully make sense." He could see the turmoil in Naruto's eyes, the pain of shattered trust, and a reality that didn't align with his understanding.

“What reasons?! What reasons could he possibly have had to- to kill his own family?” And suddenly as if struck with an epiphany. “What about Sasuke? Is he- did he k-kill him too?” And he knew that his heart wouldn’t take the answer he was bracing himself for.

“Thankfully, through reasons that have yet to be known, Sasuke was spared. He is currently unconscious, being held at the hospital for observation.”

Relief, all-encompassing relief took over him then. If Itachi spared Sasuke, If he let his little brother live, didn’t it mean that somewhere within him he still cared? Was it too naïve to hope for that? But why would he do that? Why would he kill everyone, h-his own parents- but let Sasuke live?

The boy was left grappling with a reality that defied his understanding. His world tilted on its axis, the ground beneath him feeling unsteady, as if the very foundation of his beliefs had been uprooted.

The conversation was a fragile dance between truth and despair, his emotions a tempest that threatened to engulf him.

“W-where is he now? Itachi, do you know?” If only he could talk to him, ask him why, ask if it was true, if any of it was real.

“Itachi Uchiha has fled the village, as of two days ago, he has been declared a missing nin.” The Sandaime answered solemnly. “And Naruto, I must remind you of the dire consequences should you even think of stepping a foot outside of the village.”

Despair, heavy and crushing settled on him like a blanket. This was a nightmare. Couldn’t he wake up already?

The walk back to his apartment was a blur, a haze of movement and changing scenery without conscious thought or awareness.

His mind was eerily quiet as he climbed the stairs into his building, the sound of his creaking doors feeling like a siren call. His back hit the frame with a thud and he slid down the structure, pushing it closed behind him. His legs folded to meet his face as he huddled into himself.

As he sat there, the icy tiles beneath his body were almost shadowed by the cold, stony void he could feel expand within his chest.

It seemed even with a lifetime’s worth of knowledge and experience, he still understood absolutely nothing at all. And life… well life seemed to always find a way to bring him down.

That night, Naruto made an oath to himself.

He’d opened up his heart to Itachi and Shisui and it had phenomenally blown up in his face. He swore then and there that he would not make the same mistake again.

In this world, the only thing he could rely on was himself. And in this life, like his previous one, he would go through his hardship on his own.

The only witnesses to his silent promise were the cobwebs and the dust adorning his lonely apartment. A testament to the years that awaited him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13 already up on the link in my insta bio

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Notes:

Be prepared for a time skip next chapter! tell me what you guys think! comments are always a good motivator

Chapter 13: Of knowledge and responsibility

Notes:

Hope you guys like this one, let me know in the comments!

Sunlight filtered through the torn and solidly worn blinds that adorned Naruto's windows. Some panels were broken and some barely hanging onto their thin string for dear life. It was ironic really, how he could honestly relate to the fraying structure.

Sighing softly, he adjusted his jacket, the once deep red now a murky red-ish brown, faded and washed with age. The mirror in front of him was cracked, but functional, or at least, it did enough of its job to be salvageable. His blonde hair stuck out in odd directions, never settling into anything resembling order despite his best efforts at trying to tame his wild locks. His tanned skin looked pale in the light, the shadows around his eyes seemed to drill deeper into the crevices of his face, a testament to his countless sleepless nights. He supposed he looked presentable enough, not that he could get himself to care much.

Turning away from the murky, tired depiction his reflection showed, his gaze drifted to the bag hanging onto his chair. With careful, delicate movements, he picked up the small bag, its fabric too was worn. Yet, unlike his blinds, it was well cared for. No dust or unwanted stains marred its dark grey color and every tear had been meticulously mended. He imagined that Shisui would call him sentimental for holding onto it all these years.

His heart gave a pang at the memory, and he tried his best to stifle it down.

He’d worn this bag on his first day at the academy and he would wear it on his last.

He was eleven, an age he unwittingly associated with change, and although he would be turning twelve in a few weeks, he figured that this next step could still count as a rite of passage for himself.

It seemed that life had a funny way of drawing parallels within itself. Although, graduating from the ninja academy could never compete with the feeling of going to Hogwarts for the very first time.

His nerves were starting to bubble and fray though. He wasn’t worried about the written exams. Those he would ace, he was sure of it. However, the practical exams were a different matter altogether. With a heavy heart, he’d kept up with his training, and his taijutsu had only gotten better over the years. However, his chakra control was as volatile as ever.

In his own, ample unbiased defense, he’d finally learned how to access his chakra flow independently from his magic.  However, his control left much to be desired.

And so, to his inner Hermione's dismay, his academic standing wasn't all he hoped it would be.

On a brighter note, and to his ever-growing pride, he could also, finally, manage weak, low-grade spells even if he sometimes found himself falling unconscious afterward. Nothing too strenuous though, he’d mastered Lumos and Nox and a couple of similarly low-tier charms. The ability to produce light when his electricity malfunctioned was a godsend and he would forever be grateful for it.

Over the years, with hours upon hours of meditating, he'd also found a way to work in tandem with his chakra in order to use some of his magic. His control was still nonexistent, but it was progress, and it was better than nothing. Or at least, that's what he told himself every time his energy faltered and drained in his endeavor to control his powers.

Sighing once more, he hefted the small back onto his shoulder and marched out the door. It would not do to make Iruka-sensei angry by being late.

The teacher had grown on him over the years, but he found himself unable to form any lasting connections. He’d effectively hid himself behind an invisible barrier. A metaphorical wall blocking out any unwanted bonds from forming. He preferred it this way, he told himself resolutely. Emotions and relationships were inconsequential and would only bring him pain in the end.

Iruka had taken his constant rebuttals relatively well, choosing instead to remain a well-intentioned and professional teacher despite Naruto’s cold demeanor. That, in itself, was more than enough.

Shikamaru, though, had been an entirely different matter. One Naruto wasn't in any hurry to inspect or try to unravel in its complexity. He'd do what he did best and has been doing for a while now. He would ignore it until it went away.

The academy gate was empty of any stragglers as he crossed them, which meant that he was, despite his best attempt not to be, still late. Hurrying his steps, he finally reached the designated exam room they’d been given the day before.

Whatever Iruka was in the middle of explaining before his entry halted, all eyes turning to him as he entered the room. Keeping his posture straight despite the sudden urge to huddle down and fold into himself, he calmly walked until he was standing with the group of students being lectured.

"Naruto, one more minute, and you wouldn't be allowed to take the exams." The teacher admonished, voice heavy with reprimand despite his soft voice.

“Come on Iruka-san.” Mizuki-Sensei, a recent addition to the academy staff, responded, voice drawn in an amused drawl. “Give the kid a break, won’t you.” Despite the smile on the man’s face and his kind words, the light didn’t seem to reach his eyes. It made something within his gut twist with mounting dread.

“As I was saying before we were interrupted.” Iruka continued, ignoring his coworker’s words. “Your written tests will begin shortly, followed immediately by your practicals, so be ready, stay calm, and do your best."

“Hai Sensei!” The group of students responded in tandem.

And so their final exams began.

_______________________________________

 

“How did you do Sasuke-kun?” Ino’s bright voice sounded as soon as they walked out, drawing the attention of most of the girls in their year. Sakura who had been shooting shy looks toward the raven-haired boy, had immediately taken it as her cue to butt in, asking her own desperate question with a similarly shrill voice.

The boy in question only hummed noncommittedly, barely acknowledging the group of rabid fangirls fawning over his every move.

Naruto watched this from his place at the back with a cool, tired gaze. Sasuke had always been a figure of great conflict to Naruto. One that drew out of him emotions he wasn’t ready to examine just yet. Ones he doubted he would ever be ready to face out in the open and head-on.

Looking at him was like looking at a distorted, broken window. One that would never show him what he truly longed to see. In short, looking at him hurt, a bone-deep ache that seemed to drill into his very bones, and so, Naruto did his best to avoid the boy.

Sasuke chose this moment to look over at him as if sensing his gaze. A sneer twisted his previously impassive features as he noticed the baby blue orbs watching him. Naruto always appeared to have that effect on him. It seems that no matter what he did, everyone was always meant to hate him for some reason or another.

Breaking away from the intense stare, he settled his attention back on the teachers calling for their attention. Ignoring another set of eyes that somehow always managed to watch him from a distance, he focused on Iruka’s explanation of the task ahead.

As Uzumaki and Potter luck would have it, their exam was to be centered on the Bunshin technique. A justu he never could get the hang of. To his ever-growing frustration.

Clenching his fist imperceptively at his side, he took in a deep breath and willed his nerves to settle back down. He would get through this, somehow.

One by one the students went in for their test, the waiting room methodically getting emptier with every passing minute. Naruto would be one of the last students to take his turn, the waiting only served to heighten his anxiety.

Finally, after what felt like forever, but couldn’t have been more than an hour, he was called into the classroom.

"Naruto-Kun, come on in," Mizuki called to him as soon as he opened the door. His voice was silky in its tone.

Iruka sent him a tentative smile, one that spoke of an attempted reassurance but altogether resembled barely concealed pity. "Naruto, your theoretical grades and your taijutsu marks are one of the highest in your year, but as you know, we cannot let you pass without seeing proof of proficiency in at least one of the ninjutsu given to you in your curriculum." His voice was soft, and his gaze was sad as if he'd already decided and known what the result of this exam would be. And maybe, Naruto contemplated with a hint of resignation, he did.

“The bunshin technique, if you will, Naruto.” Mizuki-Sensei urged, his smile not reaching his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he let his eyes close in concentration as he imagined his chakra pathways opening up. He focused on creating a clone. Just one would do, he thought a little desperately.

Drawing his hands into the correct form, fingers crossing in front of him, he called out the Jutsu’s name, hearing his voice ring with an echo of power.

The familiar popping sound of his clone rang in the air and out of the smoke emerged a sickly rendition of himself. One that wobbled in its greyish hue and melted into the floor into a pathetic puddle, before popping out of existence once more.

"C-can I try again?" He asked, avoiding the teacher's pitying looks. Instead choosing to focus on the captivating cracks slithering through the floor tiles at his feet.

“Naruto…”

“Come on, Iruka, Let the kid try, he’s not hurting anyone.”

“I’m sorry Naruto, but I can’t pass you as you are right now. You would only be a liability in the field.”

Narrowing his eyes, Naruto tried to settle his emotions. Feeling his anger and frustration start to bubble over, he huffed in defeat. Looking at the teacher through dim, tired eyes, he tried one last time. “If I come back tomorrow and I can do at least one bunshin, would you let me graduate?”

"You've been trying to do this all year Naruto, I don't see how you can suddenly learn the technique in a day," Iruka responded tentatively, his eyes showing sincerity despite his harsh words.

“Give me one more day, please Sensei.” He needed to graduate, needed to gain as much freedom away from this blasted village as he could. And if becoming a ninja would lead him to have more control over his life, then that's what he needed to do.

“Sure Naruto, if you come back tomorrow having learned the bunshin technique, I’ll even give you my own headband as a reward. But this will be your last chance, alright?” The man conceded with a sigh, shaking his head as he got up, gathering his papers and headbands.

"Thank you." He did his best to ignore the shiver-inducing stares he felt bearing into his back as he walked out of the room.

As expected the field outside of the academy was filled with expectant parents. Crowds of loved ones here to congratulate or console their children as they graduate or fail.

He could see Sakura flanked by two grownups, both hugging her with tears in their eyes as she spoke excitedly of her exam. Not far ahead were Shikamaru’s own parents, talking quietly to the boy, their gaze solemn yet unwavering in their pride.

Naruto felt Shikamaru’s father's eyes flit briefly to him, noting the noticeable lack of a headband on his forehead before drifting back to his son as if none the wiser.

He hurried his steps after that, burrowing into the quiet forest near the field. The more he walked the harder it seemed to focus as he was finally able to let out his frustration and disappointment.

The leaves and rocks discarded around him trembled as his magic flared without his consent. An ache made itself known in his chest as he stifled the urge to scream. He settled on a fallen tree stump instead, hands burying themselves in his hair as he lowered his face between his knees. Taking deep measured breaths, he urged his magic to settle down, feeling the world draw back into focus the longer he stayed there.

He had one day, one day to figure out and accomplish what he couldn’t do in the past four years.

He was deceiving himself, he knew. There was no way he would magically and suddenly learn how to control his chakra overnight. He was screwed. Destined to remain stuck here, shunned and unwanted by the village.

Over the years he'd realized that being a ninja would, at least if nothing else, give him some semblance of respect and freedom. Not to mention, a steady income, hopefully.

His mind whispered unbidden that he was lying to himself. His motives weren’t at all practical. At least not entirely. Out of the corner of his eye, Shisui’s ghost shook his head at him, an echo of his wish to see him become a ninja, rising to the forefront of his mind.

With that depressing thought in mind. Naruto got to work. He’d practice until he dropped. And if that didn’t work, well… he could always just- disappear.

 

______________________________________

 

The sun had set a while ago, however, Naruto hadn’t paid enough attention to note the time. His body ached, his chakra still working at full force despite the hours he’d spent repeating the jutsu over and over again, his chakra reserve still felt unnaturally full.

It was something he'd noticed long ago. Compared to others his age, and sometimes even fully grown ninjas, he seemed to have larger chakra reserves. He could feel it, every time he meditated, the thrum of energy so large it prevented him from gaining any semblance of control over it.

He suspected in some capacity, that it was the reason why academy-level Jutsus such as the Bunshin were so hard for him to do. They required little to no chakra, after all, and so, he would have to control his output enough for the clone to not be oversaturated with chakra. A feat he was still incapable of accomplishing, to his great dismay.

“I was wondering where you’d run off to.” A voice suddenly exclaimed from somewhere behind him, making him turn, guard up at the sudden intrusion.

He hadn’t heard the man approach at all. He thought with trepidation, his guard instantly coming up.

“Mizuku-sensei… How did you find me?”

“I was looking for you obviously, and some of the students told me they’d seen you wander off in this direction.” The teacher explained lightly, “Were you training this entire time?”

Not knowing where this was going, Naruto only nodded his head slowly. Eying the man’s approaching figure with hesitance.

“I can help you, you know?” The Chunin began, “In fact, I know of an object that contains the solution to your problem, Naruto-kun.” And despite his trepidation and instincts, Naruto listened to the man’s words.

 

________________________________________

 

When Hiruzen went to work that night, wanting to get ahead in his paperwork, the last thing he expected to find was an intruder.

And yet, as he stepped into the warmth of his well-furnished Hokage’s office that is exactly what he found.

Tension rose in his posture and vanished a moment later as his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, making out the form of one Naruto Uzumaki. And really, who else would have the courage, or more accurately, the audacity to break into his office and sit down in his chair as if it was his very own.

The boy in question hadn’t even lifted his gaze at the Hokage’s entrance. Head buried inside the scroll held comfortably in his hold. Engrossed in the material he was reading with a steely focus.

Clearing his throat, and feeling strangely as though he was the one intruding, Hiruzen finally managed to meet the boy's sky-blue orbs.

“Care to explain why you are breaking several village laws without any remorse, Naruto?” He resisted the urge to run a hand across his face, tired eyes boring into the boy to get his answers.

The boy took his words as his cue to finally put down the scroll within his grasp and it took Sarutobi a moment to realize just what scroll the kid had been reading.

"That is forbidden information Naruto!" His voice rose despite himself, worry and anger warring with each other as he regarded the child he'd come to care for over the years, despite their shaky relationship.

“Mhm, I figured as much, old man." The kid replied nonchalantly, gingerly hopping out of his chair and walking around the desk to lean on its surface.

“How did you even find out about it? This is a highly dangerous village secret Naruto! It is not to be trifled with. Any of the Jutsu’s you’ve read within this scroll could be lethal to yourself or those around you-!”

“What, like the village secret you promised to let me in on, once I graduated?” Seeing the older man’s tired gaze, Naruto sighed, all bravado leaving his figure as he let the tension seep out of his body. “Look, I know it’s against the rules or whatever, but would you have preferred it if I stole it and gave it to Mizuki like the idiot asked me to?”

As expected his words weren’t taken lightly. “Mizuki? Are you absolutely certain Naruto?” The Hokage exclaimed in shock. “This is a severe allegation to accuse someone of, we are speaking of treason here, do you understand?”

“If I didn’t then we wouldn’t be having this conversation, Hokage-sama.”

“Very well,” The Third worked through a series of gestures, summoning two anbu operatives in an instant, ordering them to detain the Chunin in question. They shunshined away a moment later, leaving the two alone once more. “I’ll handle him myself. However, the information you’ve acquired, Naruto, remains highly dangerous.”

“I only got to the Kage Bunshin before you interrupted me, and if you must know, it just happens to be exactly what I was looking for, in order to graduate.” He settled his fingers into the correct gesture and muttered a soft “Kage bunshin no Jutsu." Immensely satisfied as 10 clones popped into existence, filling the small room long enough to prove his point, before popping out of existence. "You knew that I would need higher-level jutsus didn't you? Whatever it is you're hiding from me, it affects my chakra doesn't it?" He tried and failed to keep the accusation out of his tone, but his anger and frustration had bubbled over by now.

Mizuki had tried to manipulate him, as if he was once again nothing but a small child, hanging onto any scraps of kindness any adult deemed him worthy enough to have. A small boy, willing to trust an old wizard in exchange for a reason to belong. He had taken great satisfaction in pretending to be enthralled by the Chunin’s suggestion. All the while, wanting nothing more than to hex the man into oblivion.

It was no wonder his instinct had been flaring in the ninja’s presence. He was a more pathetic version of Quirrel, it seemed. One that thankfully, didn’t have a dark lord sharing a body part with him.

“Sit down, Naruto. I believe it is high time we have this conversation. You have more than proven yourself ready for the responsibility.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14 already up here, 

Link on insta bio

 

 

Notes:

My friend started a tiktok that's pretty cool, so check it out if you guys are interested!
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Chapter 14: Team 7

 

 

A cacophony of sounds echoed and resounded through his head, loud and overwhelming to his ears as sheets of rain knocked against the window harshly. The howl of the wind rustling the trees and the very earth outside made for an omnipresent sense of chaos. As if the weather itself was a physical manifestation of the turmoil unfolding within his turbulent mind.

The Hokage was still speaking and yet, his words seemed far away, as if Naruto was suddenly plunged underwater, lost to the torrent, and unable to register any actual meaning behind his speech.

He didn’t think he wanted to, either.

He felt, peculiarly disassociated, a spectator watching from the outside as his world came crashing down. As the metaphorical rug was once more pulled from right beneath his feet.

Rising from his seated position, legs steady despite the uneasiness he felt from within, he turned his back to the Third. Calls for him to wait, to sit back down, or to listen went unheard, and ignored as he calmly made his way out of the man’s office and into the open streets outside.

The cold, unforgiving wind, coupled with the unrelenting rain, made for a miserable trek home. His thin, worn-out clothes clung to his skin with dampness, his nose red and his hair dripping as he finally stepped into his lonesome apartment.

Not bothering to remove his water-logged shoes, he walked straight into the bathroom, stripping out of his muddy clothes methodically, as if on autopilot. No active thought went through his cool, dazed eyes as he watched the water gather at his feet the longer he stood in place.

Barely aware of his actions, he stepped under his shower, fingers twisting the rusty knob numbly. He waited one moment, and another. Still, no water deigned to come out of the showerhead above him. Pathetic drops of brown, murky leftovers fall onto the cracked tiles beneath his feet.

He felt something inside of him break then. A crack in his barriers, opened up the floodgates to an overwhelming feeling of despair as he dropped into a crouch. Conscious of the cool, icy air making the hairs on his arms stand on end, as he crumbled in on himself. No tears escaped his eyes, however, despite the devastating need he felt to let them out. To let it all out.

His harsh breathing was the only sound in the room as he tried to get his tattered, broken mind to rearrange itself. As he tried to put himself back together.

His fingers dug into the skin of his stomach, as if to physically claw out the creature he now knew, resided within him.

Red, speckles of blood followed in the wake of his nails as he continued to scrape at his irritated flesh.

Every dark, scathing stare he'd ever had directed at him played out in his mind. Memories and incomprehensible instances of his childhood suddenly light up with morbid clarity.

Whispers of the words that have been haunting him for his entire life, every sneer, taunt, and jeer he'd ever gotten thrown at him felt somehow justified now, as he finally understood why he'd been hated, why he’d been reviled for all these years.

Or maybe ‘Understood’ wasn’t the right word for it. Because he didn’t really. He didn’t understand why.

Why had he, out of all people, been chosen to bear this burden? Why was he the one being punished for the crimes and horrors of another? Why was he being forced to act like- like some kind of human jailer to this creature, this monster living within him? A Jinchuriki, the Hokage had called him. A human sacrifice. His mind whispered bitterly.

And wasn't that ironic? To be once more subjected to this kind of horror. To once again be nothing more than a vessel, unwillingly sharing his body with another soul. One who had killed hundreds, and was referred to as a monster. The kyubi, the nine-tails.

At least, he thought with no small amount of resentment, this one wasn’t a dark lord, hell-bent on killing him. Or, that is to say, he hoped it wasn’t.

He could feel the lights flickering above him, the mirror hanging on for dear life as the walls shook with the force of his magic. For a moment, he wanted to let go, to let himself feel all the anger and the hatred, and yet, he knew, even as he fought the overwhelming urge to give in, that he couldn’t.

And so, with deep, slow breaths, he steadied himself, shutting out his emotions and stuffing his anger back where it belonged. Buried deep within him.

Getting up, his knees wobble, and he gets out of the shower with lethargic, unhurried movements. His energy sapped completely.

Feeling exhaustion and an overpowering sense of gloom looming over him, he went through the motions of dressing himself in his pajamas, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the mattress.

His dreams that night were filled with darkness, Voldemort’s fragmented, dying soul, haunting his thoughts unrepentantly. Nine, swaying tails were also a prominent feature in his nightmares.

 

__________________________________

 

 

Waking up the next morning was like paddling through thick layers of consciousness. Fighting to get his brain to activate and to get his body to cooperate.

His eyes felt heavy, eyelids drooping with the effort to stay open. He doesn’t know how much time he spends looking up at the ceiling above. But eventually, he does manage to drag himself out of bed and into the bathroom.

He steps in, gaze immediately catching onto the pile of clothes he’d left the night before. Laying haphazardly on the still damp tiles. And so with tired, sluggish movements, he picks them up and drops them into the clothes hamper. Sighing so deeply he can physically feel his energy seep out of him.

Trying his luck one more time with the shower, he's once again disappointed as no water comes out. A frustrated huff escapes his lips as he turns and heads out into the kitchen. In the cabinet beneath the sink, he finds the reserve bucket of water he keeps for instances such as these.

For, it is not the first time, and he doubts it will be the last, so he tries to always be prepared. He heats the water little by little on the stove, and after a small eternity, he finally makes his way back to the bathroom. His arms holding onto his acquired water almost protectively.

He scrubs at his skin until his flesh feels as raw as his emotions. Keeping clear of the shallow gashes marring his stomach.

He puts special efforts into avoiding looking at them in the mirror as he's getting dressed. Although he does manage to catch a glimpse of the dark shadows framing his eyes. His face sunken with bone-deep exhaustion, his whisker marks especially prominent in the morning light.

Looking at the clock hanging to his left, he doesn’t waste any more time before heading out, conscious of the empty void gnawing at his stomach and the similar state of his fridge as he does so.

He’d have to go out shopping soon. At least now, he could manage a henge, or maybe he could even send a clone to be safe.

He realizes now, as he marches through the early morning wanderers of the village, that his chakra problem probably wasn’t affected just because of his magic.

His own chakra reserves were immense, and add to that the Kyubi’s energy and it's no wonder he never managed any low-level jutsus.

He wasn’t going to catch any breaks any time soon that was for sure.

He finds that he is relatively early, as he walks through the gates and into the academy. The absence of laughter and energetic kids is his first hint.

Thankfully, he spots the object of his search almost immediately.

Iruka is standing in the middle of the hall leading up to the classroom, face twisted with a strange kind of expression, one Naruto wasn't used to seeing on the man. His eyes were serious and sharper than usual as he spoke to another Ninja. One he hadn't seen before.

However, the moment his gaze seems to catch onto Naruto’s approaching form, he straightens and nods at the man in front of him, dismissing him almost instantly. His attention now fully turned towards his student.

"Naruto." He greets tentatively. Eyes scanning over him with something akin to concern. Eying his face and his tired posture with a displeased frown. "I heard about what happened yesterday. Are you alright?" Subduing his surprise, he tries to evade the question.

“I’m fine,” He huffs distractedly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You should worry more about getting yourself a new headband, though.” He swings his body forward and back, wanting to dispel the sudden nervousness he was experiencing with those worried eyes directed at him so earnestly.

Iruka takes a moment to answer, the silence stretching almost uncomfortably between the two. His eyes bore into Naruto's as if looking for answers within them. Answers that Naruto himself wouldn't know how to give.

“You’re right.” He says, managing to surprise Naruto for the second time this morning. "A deal is a deal and I am a man of my word." He intones, hands coming up to untie the headband on his forehead. The strangeness of seeing without it almost makes him want to take back his words. "Now, the Hokage already told me about your little escapade yesterday, so I know you can do it, but I still would like to see it for myself.”

“Fair enough.” He amends, a hint of amusement flickering over his features. “How many do you want?”

“How about you surprise me?”

Naruto thinks that the teacher will regret his words sooner than expected.

 

_______________________________

 

 

When Naruto steps into the classroom a few minutes later, he is one headband heavier. The dark fabric rests comfortably on his forehead. Finger absentmindedly raking over the carved symbol on the plaque sewed into the center of the band. He was officially a leaf village Genin.

The dread he'd felt when the Hokage had explained why it was so important for him to join the academy suddenly reared its ugly head once more.

His notions of freedom were successfully stifled as he walked up to his desk, at the back of the class. He wouldn't let it take away from his sense of accomplishment though. He'd said he'd learn the Bunshin in a day, and he did, more or less.

A harder, higher level of the jutsu surely got him extra points, he argued internally. Looking at the clock hanging on the wall at the front of the class, he decided that he could maybe rest his eyes for a few minutes. He'd surely earned it.

It’s not long, however, before he’s disturbed.

“Naruto!" A whiny voice draws him out of the haze he'd let himself fall into. Cursing inwardly, he lifts his head out from the safety of his folded arms, not bothering to straighten up, he lets his eyes trail up to look at the intruder with a detached gaze. “You shouldn’t be here! Only people who passed get to attend the ceremony.” When a minute passes, and he doesn’t respond, she shifts nervously on her feet, as if physically trying to dispel the awkwardness. “Whose headband did you steal, anyway?”

Sighing heavily, he finally straightens out of his huddle, back cracking as he slumps against his chair, eyeing the girl berating him. He never really bothered to pay much attention to Sakura. She always reminded him of the fangirls that used to trail after him throughout his life back at Hogwarts. The awed-filled gazes, that followed after him almost desperately, with an eerie sort of longing. He shuddered at the mere thought, thankful that, at least, such looks weren't directed at him in this lifetime. Mentally saluting Sasuke for his struggles, Naruto let his eyes meet mint green, urging himself to stay calm and not let out all his frustration onto the girl.

“I passed, Sakura, I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” He could feel several people pay closer attention as he spoke, as they too were wondering the same thing as the soon-to-be-kunoichi. One particular set of dark eyes seemed to bore into him more than the others.

“Are you lying? How can someone like you pass? You can’t even use any jutsus!”

“Yeah, you caught me.” He says sarcastically, a smile stretching his features despite the coldness in his eyes. “I’m just here to mess with you people.”

“How can you-“

“Alright, everyone get to your seats!” Iruka chose that moment to finally make his entrance. Thankfully ending Sakura's quest to get him into trouble, her dumbfounded gaze, strangely satisfying to witness. "First of all, I'd like to congratulate everyone in this room for passing you're exams. You are now officially Ninjas, or more accurately, aspiring Ninjas." His words held a double meaning to them and Naruto narrowed his eyes in contemplation. "Although you still have much to learn, you will be embarking on your first steps in the journey of becoming respected members of the village's workforce." He lectured, his voice filled with soft pride. "You will do so, in teams of three, led by an experienced Jonin." That started a new round of whispers as everyone speculated on their respective teams. Knowing his luck, Naruto didn’t hold out hope for anything good.

He zones out most of the man’s next words as he lists out the teams and their corresponding Jonin. Only tuning in as he finally gets to Naruto himself.

“-team seven will consist of Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha, and Naruto Uzumaki.” He bloody well knew it.

He hears the tell-tale squeal of excitement and already feels his headache taking form as Sakura rushes to sit next to Sasuke, bumping multiple students on her way there.

Sasuke for his part looked just as displeased as he felt, eyes looking ahead with irritation. Naruto can practically see the vein bulging on his forehead. It almost makes him want to laugh at his clear annoyance.

Without meaning to, his eyes meet Shikamaru’s as he gets up to join the two, the Nara looks deep in thought, staring at him with intensity as they cross paths. Naruto doesn't linger long enough to give him the chance to say something.

Instead, counting to ten in his mind, he takes a seat next to his new teammates, wondering how this won’t get him killed in the very near future.

Iruka dismisses himself after that, instructing them to sit there and wait for their new Jonin-Sensei to come get them. And so starts the longest four hours of his life.

After the first hour, Naruto had given up on waiting patiently and had forgone decorum in place of sitting cross-legged on his desk and meditating.

Sakura hadn’t gotten the memo to leave him alone right away, it took her ten minutes of badgering before she realized that he was just going to ignore her.

And so he let himself fall into the now familiar sense of peace, following along the wisps of power and thoughts into his mindscape. He'd always felt as if one part of it had been closed off from him, having always assumed it was related to the magical and chakra-related block he could feel. He knew better now. Knew his own body well enough to know that behind that mental barrier, stood something far more sinister.

With the renewed knowledge, he could feel himself finally surpassing the blocks in place. However, just as he was beginning to get a clearer image, he felt himself being pushed right out of his concentration-induced haze.

A sting at the back of his head, was the only indication of what had happened, as he opened his eyes and glared at the girl, tempted to hex her for touching him, let alone hitting him like she had.

"We've been calling for your attention for the past ten minutes, Naruto!" She had zero self-preservation, didn't she?

Looking past her, he could see that Sasuke too, was glaring at him, as if silently cursing him for leaving him to deal with her alone. And standing there, next to the two, was an unfamiliar man.

His hair was tinged a greyish white, defying the laws of physics in their composition as they stood up, in sharp, spiked strands. However, despite their oddness, they weren’t the Ninja’s most peculiar aspect. The man had a face mask covering the entire lower half of his face. His Hitai-ate fell diagonally across his face, covering one of his eyes. All in all, he looked weirdly mysterious.

His gaze bore into Naruto with an unnerving intensity. Looking at him, as if seeing something else entirely.

“Maa, barely you’re first day and you’re already wasting my time.” The man spoke with a bored, drawn-out tone, staring at them blankly.

“I’m not the one who was late.” He said before he could stop himself, never one to hold his tongue.

“Naruto!” Sakura admonished just as Sasuke hummed, for once agreeing with Naruto on something.

“Well, if you’re done daydreaming, meet me on the roof.” And just like that, he shunshined on the spot.

 

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“Alright, why don’t you guys introduce yourselves, start with things like you’re names, your likes and dislikes, dreams, and hobbies…”

“Why don’t you go first, Sensei?” Sakura intoned when none of her new teammates looked ready to take the lead.

“Fine.” The man muttered, leaning against the roof’s railing. “My name is Kakashi Hatake. I don't really feel like telling you what I like or dislike, as for my dreams, don't have any." He shrugged, before continuing. "And let's see, I have a lot of hobbies." His words were met with three almost identical deadpan stares he seemed entirely unbothered by. "Now, it's your turn." He intoned, amused.

“Uhm,” Sakura started nervously, having looked a couple of times back at them to make sure neither was going to speak first. “My name is Sakura Haruno. The things I like… I mean who I like… well, umm, my dreams…" She shot not-so-subtle glances at the raven-haired boy sitting on Naruto's left. "Well, you know…" She hunched in, her face beat red, making Naruto want to roll his eyes. Kakashi-Sensei wasn’t faring too much better as he prompted her to continue. “I hate annoying rivals and lazy boys.” She finally finished, giving the first real bit of information in her entire sentence.

Was he meant to be one of the lazy boys she was referencing?

“Good, go on.” He gestured at Sasuke.

“The name’s Sasuke Uchiha. I hate a lot of things, and I don’t particularly like anything. My goals are not a dream, because I will accomplish them. I will restore my family’s honor and avenge my clan, by eliminating a certain someone." Immediately, Naruto knew just who was the boy referring to. Making his chest constrict with an unnamed emotion. He could already feel himself shut down.

“Okay…” The Jonin enunciated as if choosing to open that particular can of worms another day. "Now, you, blondie.” Kakashi urged, seemingly glad for a change of subject.

“My name is Naruto Uzumaki." He started, clearing his throat to get his voice, dispelling the unease that had gathered in his guts. "Since you didn't bother to actually give us any information on yourself, I'll be brief." He eyed the man as he said so, wanting to see his reaction to being tested like so. A blank, patient stare was his only response. "I like meditating, training, and cooking. My dislikes are irrelevant and my dream…" He hesitated, unsure whether to be genuine or to deflect like the man himself had done. "My dream is to be free."

A charged kind of silence fell over them after that. His words felt heavy and meaningful, even as he immediately regretted saying them out loud.

“Well, I think that’s enough for today. You all seem to be interesting and unique people.” Kakashi finally broke the stillness. “Meet me tomorrow in the Genin’s training field. There, you will go through your final exam."

"Final exam?!" Sakura exclaimed, voicing all their surprise. It seems that Naruto's hunch was right. Iruka did mention something about it, after all. “Didn’t we already pass that?”

Kakashi proceeded to inform them of the real test they had yet to pass. One that was entirely up to his own decision. “Oh, and before I forget.” He said just as he was about to turn and leave. “Don’t eat any breakfast tomorrow. Wouldn’t want you to puke it all up, now, would we?” He shot them a close-eyed smile, amusement radiating in his body language.

At least that was one thing, Naruto wouldn’t have any problem with. He was going to go there hungry anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15 already posted here

link on insta bio

Chapter 15: Testing the waters

The sun was barely peeking into the sky when Naruto lumbered his body through the village and into training ground number three.

His eyes fought to remain open as he forged on, legs feeling heavy and arms dangling at his side uselessly. Ahead of him, he could see the two approaching figures of his new teammates. Both of them looked just as tired as he felt.

“Good morning.” Sakura greeted in a low, sleepy voice. Her hair looked strangely well-styled despite her exhaustion.

“Morning.” He mumbled, feeling resolutely out of place now that they were faced with the new reality of their team and who it was they were going to train and work with for the foreseeable future. That is to say; if they managed to pass whatever test Kakashi-sensei had in store for them.

“Hn.” Was Sasuke’s only response, although he wasn’t much of a talker on a normal day, so Naruto wasn’t too surprised.

Their stomachs growled in unison and they shared a look of mutual misery as they stood there, waiting for Kakashi to grace them with his presence.

Naruto wasn’t holding his breath, however, knowing that the man’s late arrival yesterday was probably just the start of a long-lasting habit.

When 20 minutes passed and the teacher had yet to show himself, Naruto flopped on the ground into his familiar meditative stance. His two teammates didn’t object this time, instead choosing to do the same. However, it should be noted that Sasuke chose to sit a great deal away. Sakura, having not gotten the unspoken message only hovered closer to the boy in response. 

Not wanting a repeat of yesterday’s mishap, he chose to keep his meditating to a shallow stage. Enjoying the light morning air, the sound of the waking world slowly emerging around him.

If he stretched his senses, he could almost hear the rustling of a few squirrels, occupying the trees near them.

It was one hour later that he finally noticed an additional presence. One moment he wasn’t there, and the next, he just was. Standing there, in the middle of the makeshift triangle they had unconsciously formed.

“You’re late!” Sakura yelled as soon as she noticed him. Pointing an accusatory finger at him. Naruto almost wanted to join her in her shouting.

“Ah, sorry, a black cat crossed my path so I had to take the long road here.” He defended weakly ignoring their incredulous looks. Rubbing a sheepish arm behind his head, he continued. “A-anyway, let’s begin. Your goal is simple.” He held up two bells, hanging by a red string, chiming as he moved them. “Take these bells from me before noon.”

“So that’s your angle…” Naruto muttered, already spotting the inconsistency in this challenge.

“Naruto, let him explain.” Sakura admonished with a glare.

“Oh?” Kakashi approached them by a couple of steps. “Have you already guessed what I’m after?” The man seemed surprised and more than a little skeptical.

“There are only two bells,” Naruto explained, eyes narrowing. “So you’re plan is to pit us against each other.” But what would that accomplish, unless…

“What- why would he do that!”

“That’s right. There are only two bells, which means that only two of you will pass my test, and the third will be forced to return to the academy.” He confirmed, making his two teammates gasp in understanding. The severity of the situation finally catching up.

However, something in his gut told him that this wasn’t entirely true.

“Now, enough chitchat, let’s begin.”

 

____________________________________

 

Naruto watches Sasuke throwing attack after attack at Kakashi, never actually landing a hit on the man despite his best efforts to do so. He’d hidden himself behind the trees as soon as the exercise had started, wanting to observe and analyze before deciding on his action plan. Years of running headfirst into danger had taught him that sometimes, it was better to plan and think before acting.

Mind running with a dozen different scenarios, he finally settles on his next move.

Putting his hands in the now familiar sign, he produces a dozen clones, sending them to help Sasuke and distract Kakashi while he goes to accomplish his newfound mission. Finding Sakura.

The girl is huddled inside a bush when he finds her, doing her best to blend into the greenery despite her obscenely bright pink hair. Letting an amused grin stretch his face, he silently settles down behind her. Making sure to mask his presence to the best of his abilities.

“Hey.” He whispers, satisfied when she squeaks, startling so hard her entire body jackknives off the ground. “You’re leaving yourself open like this.”

“Naruto-!” He hushes her with a hand to her mouth, eyes hard as he shushes her. The glare she sends him almost makes him laugh, but a boom resounds from the training ground and he knows that they can’t waste any more time.

“We need to work together.” He says, expression twisting into something more serious, his voice low and steady, wanting her to understand that this was important. “Kakashi is a Jonin, an academy student alone could never stand a chance against him.” He lets go of her, sure that she won’t scream now.

“Why would I work with you? And what about Sasuke-kun? You just want the bells to yourself!”

“I already told you why we should work together, that includes Sasuke.” He hisses, aware that they were running out of time. “Kakashi-sensei can’t send one of us back if he sees that we all worked to get the bells.”

Another explosion resounded from the field and he could feel that most of his clones had already popped. “Look, hear me out alright? I have a plan.”

Reluctantly, the girl nodded.

 

____________________________________

 

Kakashi sighed in disappointment as he dodged once again another set of kicks and knives from Sasuke. The boy’s taijutsu was impressive, and Kakashi found that he at least didn’t have to entertain himself by reading during the fight. However, his power and years of experience still made it a very boring one.

Yawning, he stepped out of the way of a fire jutsu, smiling at the tiny Uchiha, he looked around, wondering if any of the two would deign to show themselves soon. Abandoning their teammate like this wasn’t a good sign for the rest of their exam.

Suddenly, as if summoned by his wayward thoughts, Naruto sprang into action, his clones bursting forth from the trees to attack him from all sides. He concealed his shock at the sheer amount of clones the boy could produce, whistling as he changed his fighting stance, this was getting interesting. The clones were relentless, their movements erratic and unpredictable as they swarmed around him.

Kakashi's eye narrowed behind his mask as he faced the onslaught of attack. He knew that Naruto was up to something, but he couldn't let his guard down for a moment. With a swift motion, he dispatched several clones with a series of well-placed strikes, but more continued to emerge, keeping him on the defensive.

Unbeknownst to him, amidst the chaos, one of Naruto's clones had slipped past Kakashi's defenses, disguised as Sasuke, effectively taking the boy’s place as another clone ushered the real one back to the forest. Speaking in a hushed tone, they strategized together.

With Naruto's unrelenting insistence, Sasuke reluctantly agreed to cooperate, realizing that their only chance of success lay in working together as a team. He quickly formulated a plan, rejoining the fray and directing his clones to keep Kakashi occupied while Sasuke and Sakura executed their plan to obtain the bells.

As Kakashi focused on the onslaught of clones, Sasuke and Sakura moved with stealth and precision, sneaking up behind their sensei.

Catching Naruto’s eye while he launches another distracting attack at Kakashi, Sakura nods slowly, sharing a glance with Sasuke, her heart pounding with adrenaline as she prepares to execute their plan. With shaky hands, she retrieves the smoke bombs from her pouch, her movements betraying her nervousness. Naruto's clones spring into action, surrounding Kakashi and launching a barrage of attacks.

Sasuke engages Kakashi in combat, stepping in as soon as his designated clone pops out of existence, his attacks growing more desperate as he struggles to land a blow. Kakashi, ever the elusive opponent, evades Sasuke's strikes with ease, his movements calculated and precise.

 

Taking a deep breath, steeling herself for what comes next. With trembling hands, she throws the smoke bombs at Kakashi's feet, the bombs exploding in a cloud of thick smoke. For a moment, the world is obscured by a veil of grey.

Steeling herself, knowing that if she can’t see him, then he probably can’t either, she darts forward, seeing her opening. Her heart pounds in her chest as she lunges at the Jonin, a surge of determination going through her as she acts. She knows that she has only one chance to grab the bells, and failure is not an option.

Sasuke, sensing Sakura's movements, joins her in the fray, his eyes blazing with intensity. Together, they launch a coordinated attack, their movements clumsy with inexperience but determined. Sakura reaches out, her fingers brushing against one of the bells, but Kakashi reacts with lightning speed, swatting her hand away.

Having anticipated this, Naruto is quick to throw a series of punches and kicks, allowing both her and Sasuke to try again.

Sasuke is quick to capitalize on the distraction. With a swift motion, he grabs the bells from Kakashi's belt, his heart racing with exhilaration as he throws one of them into Sakura’s waiting hands as soon as Kakashi turns to face him. For a moment, time seems to stand still as Sasuke holds the bells triumphantly in his hand, his eyes meeting Kakashi's in a silent challenge.

Naruto dispels his clones the moment he sees Kakashi settle back into a resting stance, knowing that the exercise is over. He pants quietly, trying to catch his breath as he watches the man’s eyes narrow over them, deep in thought.

He knows what’s about to happen even before the ninja opens his mouth to speak, seeing the dark glint in his eyes flash.

“You both pass” Kakashi directs at the duo holding the bells. He can’t even get himself to feel surprised as the man turns towards him and continues in an almost bored voice. “Sorry Naruto, you fail.” Not sounding sorry in the slightest. Wasn’t the entire point of this exercise teamwork? Had he understood wrong?

“But Sensei he-“ Sakura goes to protest, making his eyes widen, not having expected her to be all that bothered. Even Sasuke is glaring at the man.

“Quiet, unless, you wish to join him back at the academy.” That gets her to shut up, shoulders hunching as she folds in on herself, losing her momentary courage. “Now, as punishment, no food for you, Naruto. Maybe I’ll give you another chance in a couple of months if you behave.” 

Naruto can only stare apathetically, his eyes losing the excitement they had gathered with adrenaline and working as a team for the first time in years. His throat feels strangely clogged as he swallows, and from the corner of his eyes, he sees Sasuke’s hand clenching around the bell, fingers trembling, as if debating on something.

“Fine.” He says before any of them can do something they might regret later.

To the rising dread in his stomach, Kakashi goes as far as to tie him to a pole in the middle of the field, rope scrapping against his skin as he pulls them tight enough to inhibit his movements.

He contemplates struggling but can’t get himself to care enough to do so, as he watches his teammates sit on either side of him. Looking guiltily at the bento boxes in their grasps.

Bitterly, he thinks that this doesn’t change anything, since he hadn’t brought any food with him to begin with. Even if he had passed, he’d have gone hungry tonight.

He moves experimentally, testing the ropes binding him, his mind involuntarily flashing to another instance where he’d been tied to something. Darkness, cold stone, and laughter ring in his ears as he shakes his head as if to physically dispel the memory.

“N-Naruto…” Sakura speaks up hesitantly, voice softer than he’d ever heard it while addressing him. “I’m sorry, this-” She stutters, seemingly unable to meet his eyes. “-this isn’t fair…”

To his ever-growing surprise, Sasuke actually hums in agreement at that, twisting the bell between his fingers, body tense and food untouched.

“Don’t worry about it.” Things usually weren’t fair when it came to him, after all. “I’m used to it.” He muttered, not intending for his last words to be heard.

To both his embarrassment and relief, whatever response the two had for him was interrupted as his stomach growled. He could feel his cheeks heat up as he looked away, ashamed.

He heard shuffling but refused to look up as he assumed both of them had gone back to their food. However, his field of vision was soon accosted by a bento box, the scent of tomatoes and rice filling his nose.

Eyes wide with confusion, he followed the hands holding the bento to their owner, ocean eyes meeting intense black as Sasuke pushed the box closer to him, looking away with an impatient frown.

“What are you-?”

Before he could even begin to protest, another box had joined the other, one pinker and similarly filled to the brim.

“If Kakashi-sensei sees you, you’ll get in trouble.”

“Just eat, Dobe, who cares what the old man says.”

Something unidentifiable filled his chest, making his heart squeeze painfully, had he fallen into some kind of parallel universe? Was this some kind of Genjustu?

Huffing impatiently, Sasuke took his chopsticks and offered him a bite directly, his eyes still not meeting his own.

With slow, tentative movements, as if afraid to dispel the illusion or for this somehow to end up as a cruel joke, he bit into the offered food, stifling a groan as he tasted real food for the first time in a few days.

As if summoned by an unseen force, Kakashi appeared before them in a gust of wind, startling Sakura hard enough that she dropped her bento.

“You broke the rules, are you prepared for the consequences?” His voice had lost the bored apathy it had previously been filled with, now Naruto could see the Ninja behind all the rumors of strength and power. His intimidating aura and murderous intent drowned the field.

“H-Hey! We didn’t do anything wrong!” Sakura shouted, fear evident in her tone, eyes determined despite the tremble in her limbs.

“Oh?” Kakashi advanced menacingly, his hands forming the beginning of a jutsu.

“Naruto deserves this just as much as we do.” Sasuke gestured to the bells and the food, his voice still low and steady.

“Yeah! Naruto was the one who pushed us to work together!” His eyes couldn’t get any wider as he watched her throw the bell at Kakashi. “You can take your stupid bell! I don’t want it anymore.”

Steeling himself, he spoke up. “Wasn’t the entire purpose of your exercise teamwork?”

“You’re saying that you would rather go back to the academy than lose your teammate?” Kakashi’s voice was hard, betraying nothing as he leaned in, looming over them. When none of them protested, nodding resolutely, the man’s expression changed, twisting into something different. Almost satisfied.

“Hmm...Then you pass.” He finished simply, pulling a gasp from Sakura’s lips as Sasuke’s body seemed to deflate, losing the tension in his limbs.

Naruto could only stare, finally understanding what the ninja had been after all this time. His initial assessment had been right, after all.

“W-what?” She asked, confusion obvious in her wide green eyes. “We pass? You mean all of us?”

"In the ninja world, those who don't follow the rules are scum." He began slowly, his posture losing the sharpness he’d been previously threatening them with. “But those who abandon their friends are even worse than scum.” With a quick move of his body, the ropes tying Naruto to the pole fell to the ground, freeing him. “Do you understand?”

Maybe having them as his team wouldn’t be so bad…Naruto thought, his heart constricting painfully in his chest.

The mirrored nods of his teammates only helped to emphasize his thoughts.

 

 

 

 

chapter 16 part 1-2 already up, link in my insta bio

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Chapter 16: Confrontation

Sweat gathered at his brow, golden locks of hair clinging to his forehead as he trudged through the village, back straight, eyes trained resolutely forward as he ignored the stares he was getting.

He’d gotten used to the glares years ago, and yet he couldn’t exactly tune them out completely. His muscles ached, this morning’s D-ranked mission had gone on longer than anticipated.

Especially after the old civilian women had realized just what Genin had been sent her way. He’d done his best to distract Sakura and Sasuke, enough at least for them not to question the sudden extra workload that had been thrust onto him the moment the old hag had caught sight of him.

He figured that it was at least, more of a workout than running around after cats again. He shuddered at the memory, happy to have at least been given something different today. The cats of this village would give even Crookshanks a run for his money.

He smiled softly at the memory, wondering what all had become of that cat, he never got to ask Hermione about him while they were on the run…

Looking ahead, he spotted the pathway leading to a little clearing, one that was thankfully empty. Ever since graduating, he’d found it harder and harder to find a quiet, unoccupied place to train.

Spotting a well-shaded spot beneath a tree, he settled down comfortably. Sighing as he stretched his legs before tucking one of them under him. He’d been practicing this spell for weeks without any luck but somehow he could feel himself getting closer and closer to his goal every day.

Stretching his hand, palm out in front of him, he concentrated, clearing his mind, focusing solely on the leaves scattered in front of him, eyes zeroing on the one closest to him.

He could feel his magic, stirring right under the surface of his skin, and he closes his eyes, picturing his chakra moving and making way for its twin energy. He hears his breath hitch with the effort, and his fingers twitch minutely.

His voice is low, yet clear as he says the words, his tone holding an echo of something more as he speaks. “Wingardium Leviosa.” No swish and flick is accompanying his words, as there is no wand to direct his magic, and yet he opens his eyes. Watching with wide eyes as the leaf slowly, but surely floats upwards. It sways and swings from side to side as it levitates, and he can feel his face breaking into a triumphant grin.

He feels silly for being so proud of himself, especially for such a low-grade, first-year spell. And yet he remember the days when even trying to summon a bit of energy made him pass out. He practices the spell a few more times, levitating multiple leaves and some small rocks at once. To his mounting satisfaction, he feels the magic respond to him faster and easier with every attempt.

Ignoring the slight fatigue he can already feel creeping into him, he decides to try something else today.

Looking resolutely at the small rock lying innocently in front of him, he picks it up with tentative movements, rolling it between his fingers gently. e imagines it twisting and transforming into something else. His mind conjures the image, remembering the object so clearly he can almost feel himself holding it in his palm. His magic responds to his wishes without having to utter a word, feeling the hard surface of the rock turn smooth against his skin, knowing it worked without opening his eyes.

Exhaustion washes over him so suddenly that he barely notices himself falling back against the tree trunk, vision darkening, and fingers loosening instinctively. Unknowingly letting go of the small golden sphere he’d transfigured, effectively using up his energy.

He dreams of dark forests and translucent spirits. His vision filled with gold and fluttering wings as he loses consciousness.

 

_____________________________

 

 

Rubbing a hand against his forehead, he nudged his hitai-ate back into place, sighing heavily as trudged through the clearing leading up to his usual training spot. One that he had years ago claimed as his own.

Long brown hair fluttered with the wind as he brushed the locks out of his face, grumbling all the while. Lee’s overzealous enthusiasm had been particularly unbearable today, his excitement rubbing off on their Sensei creating an insufferable feedback loop. Predictably ruining any hope of getting any serious training done and only served to amplify his headache. Why he had been put into such a team was beyond him, and he cursed internally at the fate he’d been dealt with.

And so here he was, hours later, seeking his spot in the hopes of getting enough peace and quiet as to, hopefully, accomplish some real practice today.

Training that will in no way include running full laps around the village on one’s hands alone. He scoffed at the memory, hands coming up behind his head to tighten the knot of his forehead protector.

He stopped dead in his tracks, irritation immediately heightening as he spotted the figure huddled underneath a tree, in his spot no less. Anger and annoyance were prominent in his gaze as he marched towards the slumbering boy.

The golden yellow hair was his first clue as to who it was encroaching on his metaphorical territory. The whisker-like scars marking his cheeks left no doubt about this boy’s identity.

So this was the Genin his cousin spent hours upon hours mooning over like an inane schoolgirl. Pathetically following him around like a lost puppy.

Uzumaki Naruto, the village pariah.

He crouched over the slumped form, watching the younger boy with narrowed eyes. His chest was rising and falling with every deep breath he took, showing just how deeply he had sunken into his sleep. He looked strangely peaceful, to Neji’s great annoyance.

However, what caught his attention was the object held loosely in the pre-teen’s loose fingers. Looking at the strange object, he blinked, not recognizing what exactly he was looking at.

As his fingers move to take hold of the mysterious object, a hand suddenly shoots up, catching his wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

Electric blue eyes stared up at him, clear despite the threads of slumber still noticeably weighing on him. Something inside of Neji’s chest twisted as he stared into the eerily intense gaze.

Wrenching his hand out of the grip and standing up, he sneered.

 

___________________________________

 

 

Naruto woke up abruptly, his instinct flaring as he felt a new presence hovering over him. His body moved before his mind could catch up to it, his hand catching onto the intruder’s arm before he could even open his eyes to look upon the figure.

His mind swam with the haze of unconsciousness, he’d passed out again, he knew. He’d been overconfident and had gotten careless in using his magic.

Opening his eyes, his mind quieted unexpectedly as he stared at the figure looming over him. The first thought that popped into his mind was a peculiar one.

Pretty. And then as he looked at the eyes regarding him, pretty and Lavender. So much of it that Naruto could almost fall into its depth and get easily lost.

However, his fascination was interrupted the moment the stranger opened his mouth. His face twisted into an all-too-familiar sneer as he looked down at him.

“I believe that you’ve mistaken this training ground for some kind of sanctuary for the lazy and incompetent.” Neji remarks, his tone dripping with unsubtle mockery. "Perhaps you'll find better use of your time elsewhere, where your presence won't hinder those of us who actually seek to improve." His snide tone reminds him of a certain potion’s master, making him shudder involuntarily.

“I was training.” He says before he can stop himself, anger rising. Flushing a moment as he realizes what it must have looked like to an outsider. The stranger’s eyes only regards him with a condescending look, as if already writing him off as an idiot.

“Of course, my mistake.” He says with poorly concealed sarcasm, watching Naruto straighten out of his slump, getting to his feet with some effort.

“Whatever.” He mumbles, arguing with the boy would get him absolutely nowhere. Irritation and humiliation warring with each other as he looked away. Looking down he realizes that he’s still holding onto something, surprise and pride blooming as he realizes that his endeavor earlier had worked. The rock had maintained its transfigured form even through his laps in consciousness. The grin threatening to stretch across his features falters as he looks up and meets narrow, visibly annoyed blank eyes. Hands clenching around the snitch before pulling it into his pocket and out of sight, he speaks up. “Wasn’t aware that the Hyuuga had some kind of claim over this training ground, must have missed the memo.” Snark was usually the best way to deal with an irate Snape-like individual, even one as pretty as this one.

He walks away before the boy can get in a proper response, hand turning over the golden snitch he’d tucked into his pants. Feeling a thrum of excitement at the progress he’d made today, despite his rude awakening.

He ignored the narrowed lavender gaze following him in his retreat.

 

_______________________

 

 

The next time he shuffles into the open field, he finds that his spot is already occupied.

The Hyuga, who he had yet to know the name of, is deep into his training exercise, gaze shape and movements honed with years of expertise and skill as he goes through a complicated set of movements and manoeuvers. Beads of sweat are glistening over his brow as he twists and turns his body, moving as if caught in the flow of a flowing river, following along the banks of a stream only visible to himself.

Naruto found his attention caught as though in a spider web, limbs freezing and eyes widening as he looked upon the sight before him.

Air caught in the cavities of his chest as he held his breath, entirely captivated by the show.

“Gawk elsewhere, will you? Some of us have actually training to go through.” Like a bubble that suddenly burst, he found his irritation hitting him tenfold. Erasing any awe he had reserved in his momentary stuppor. He suddenly had the urge to reach for a noneexistent wand. His hand clenching and unclenching at empty air as he glared at the brunette who had turned to face him.

His cheeks burned at having been caught staring and yet he couldn’t get himself to care.

“If it bothers you so much, you should just leave, I have my own training to get to.” He said carelessly, plopping himself under a well shaded tree, he crossed his legs and settled his core. He needed to meditate and he was’nt going to let some malfoy-wannabe get in his way.

He could hear a scoff from the older boy, some muttered insults being thrown his way as the teen shuffled a short distance away from him.

He didn’t pay much attention to any outside interferences after that.

Thoughts clearing as he focused on his own breathing and settling down into the recesses of his mind.

He could hear the ominous sound of water dripping down onto a flat surface, feel wetness spread up his feet and into the seams of his pants as he legs got submerged in some kind of murky water.

Opening his eyes, he wasn’t met with the tell-tale brightness of the sunnt field he had sat down in. Instead, he found himself in a dark, flooded train station. One so painfully familiar that his chest twinged and ached at the reminded.

However, instead of the grey bricked walls of kings cross, the surfaces around him had turned dark and gloomy. The pristine white floors were cracked and whithered as if time had chipped away at the very foundation of the space around him.

Still, no old, weary mentor was there to greet him this time.

Instead, he found himself utterly alone.

Although, on a closer inspection, he could already tell that he would not remain so for long.

Breathing in deeply, he braced himself and walked forward. Water sloshing and echoing as he waded through the thick flow.

Cold, unforgiving chillness seaping under his skin and into his bones and he marched on, going down the station.

He passed by the collumn seperating the 9 and the 10th station and barely gave it a cursory glance, feeling as if crossing it would lead him down a rabbit hole of memories and experiences he was not yet ready to endeavor.

Instead, he walked out of what he could only assume was the exit, his surroundings morphing more and more into an extension of darkness, walls turning red, fraying with vines and fissures that seemed to melt into the surface.

He felt it before he could see it, the heavy, oppressive presence of the Kyuubi, his chakra so thick and overpowring that he could feel the air turning brittle, a suffocating pressure building in the atmosphere around him.

It wasn’t long before he could see long, intimidating bars stretch before him.

The water at it’s based vibrating with unseen disturbance as he got closer and closer.

“I see you’ve finally found your way here, boy.” A deep, rumbling voice echoed from the darkness, his words dripping with thinly veiled power. “I’m surprised you even got this far.”

“Was I not supposed to?” Naruto asked conversationally, squinting at the bars as if to physically dispell the fog and shed some light onto the creature’s form.

Instead, only a shadowed mist, beyounf black greeted his ocean eyes.

He loathed beying called that, yet he held back, wanting to see where this interaction would lead him.

When the Kyuubi remained silent, he persisted. “You’re the nine tails right?” He inquired softly, taking a step forward. “I’ve heard so much about you.” And just out of pettiness he continued. “Only bad things, of course.”

A deep growl resounded, shaming the very foundation of the walls, the water pulsing as if even the stream was trying to get away from the threat the creature posed. Naruto could see the brief reflection of sharp teeths being bared at him. Canines shining in the fleeting light, red eyes glowing in the dark.

“You’re not the Uzumaki brat.” The beast ground out, tension rising like static into the air. “Who are you?”

“My name is Naruto Uzumaki.” He introduced himself patiently.

“You lie.” Was the Kyuubi somehow able to see into his thoughts? His memories? Naruto doubted it. But maybe, he had watched over him enough to realised that something had changed over the years.

“I do not tell lies.” He spoke icely, magic crackling, fighting against the chakra threatening to suffocate him. He could feel an invisble scar, itching under his skin as if to claw its way out into the open. “I am Naruto, but I am also something else.” He figured it wouldn’t be logical to hide this from an entiry sharing his own body. Even if the mere though sent shivers of revilsion through his entire being. “Someone else.” He corrected softly, feeling the tailed beast’s attention narrow.

Silence persisted around them for longer than he was comfortable with. And somehow, it seemed like the creature was gathering it’s thoughts, debating on it’s next course of action.

“Tell me then, who are you, really?”

His magic thrumed freely here, he could feel it. Unleashed now that it wasn’t constricted by the limitations of his own physical body.

“Why don’t I show you, instead.”

With a pulse of magic, he opened his mind, bringing forth the memories of who he was into the open.

He didn’t bother delving too deep, knowing that some things weren’t meant to be explored just yet.

He focused on the most integral parts of his old self, sending the surface thoughts, aimed directly at the mind sharing the space alonside his own.

Before he could see the creature’s reaction, he felt a tug drawing him out of his focus.

The world morphing and fading around him, too fast for his thoughts to catch up as he was suddenly thrust into the open once more.

Hazy red, decending daylight greeted his gaze as he blinked into consciousness. The setting sun signalling the decievingly extended amount of time he had spent delving into his own mind.

 A sharp nudge broke him out of his reverie, and he turned to face the disturbance. Blue eyes met dark onix and he blinked numbly.

“Wake up, dobe.” Sasuke stared down at him impatiently, his foot knocking against his hip as if to forcefully push him into movement. “Get up already, we need to go.”

“What?” He heard himself say, rather dumbly, not having caught up to reality yet. He looked around, finding that the field was empty. The Hyuuga having left at some point during his meditation.

“Tsk.” The Uchiha’s annoyance was rising. “Kakashi asked me to get you, we have a new mission. The Hokage sent for all of us.”

Halting the next kick aimed at his hip, he relunctantly got to his feet, looking at the teen warily. “What kind of mission?”  He had’nt spoken much to the boy outside of training and missions, and yet, they had somehow developped an unspoken camaraderie over the past few weeks. Something that went beyond the quiet looks of understanding they had shared over the years.

 

“Apparantly, it might be team 7’s first C-rank.”

And wasn’t that unexpected. He thought with curiosity, patting away the dust and dirt that had gathered on his clothes.

“Lead the way, Teme.”

 

 

 

Chapter 17 already up 

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Chapter 17: Tazuna

He leaned against the wooden gate, shipped and warn from years of servitude under the nature’s cruel elements. The wind was hot against the exposed surface of his skin, as rare as it may have been.

He’d worn his dark green jacket today, wanting to blend in with the wild. His eyes, however, never left the older man standing before him. Tazuna. He’d introduced himself with slurred, angry words, his body swaying unsteadily as he shuffled from foot to foot.

His act was convincing, Naruto could admit that much. But he'd been on the receiving end of too many drunken blows, had breathed in the sour rot of real liquor on real breath too many times not to know: this wasn’t that. It was too careful. Too deliberate. The slur too studied, the sway too measured. No, this wasn’t a drunkard. This was a man playing one, and not nearly well enough to fool someone who'd bled in the company of the real thing.

He followed the bottle clutched within meaty fingers with his eyes, noting how it was more of a prop than anything real. He barely heard Kakashi Sensei’s call to begin their journey, attention so narrowed and focused on his target.

He kept his pace steady as they walked, hands held loosely in his pockets, shallow enough to remove them at a second’s notice.

Tazuna was faking it, that much was clear. The real question, the one curling like smoke through the back of Naruto’s mind, was why. There was no malice in him; Naruto would’ve felt it, the way you feel a blade just before it cuts. But there was something else, coiled tight beneath his weathered skin, guilt, maybe. Or fear. The kind that didn’t come from missing a step, but from knowing too much. Whatever it was, it clung to him like a second shadow. And Naruto was almost certain now, it had everything to do with the mission they’d been sent on. Or rather, the mission they hadn’t.

He could see it in the way Tazuna’s eyes flicked to every shadow, in the jittery shifts of his stance, as if each rustling branch held a blade. The paranoia bled through him in rambling words that tried and failed to mask the fear curling at their edges. He wasn't just nervous, he was waiting for something. For someone. An ambush, maybe. An attack that felt, to him, inevitable.

He didn’t need confirmation, but he looked to Kakashi anyway, just to be sure, and there it was. That brief, assessing glance the jonin had cast toward Tazuna earlier, the way his single visible eye had narrowed, not lazily this time but sharply, like a knife appraising its target. Naruto knew that look. He’d worn it himself. Kakashi was already three steps ahead. He’d seen through the cracks just as easily. The only question left was how long they’d keep pretending otherwise.

When the attack finally happened, he hadn’t even bothered acting surprised.

 

 

_____________________

 

 

The forest path stretched endlessly before them, drenched in a morning mist that clung to the branches like cobwebs and carried with it the scent of damp earth and something more metallic, more dangerous, like old blood hidden in the roots. Sasuke walked ahead, his posture easy but alert, as if every rustling leaf might leap into flame.

Naruto was behind him, a quiet shadow now, barely audible, even to Sasuke’s trained ears. And that was what struck him, more than anything.

When had Naruto learned to move like that?

It wasn't just that the dobe had changed, it was the way he had changed. Like a blade that had been hammered under the heat of something crueler than fire. Sharpened. Tempered. The brash laughter, the stupid grins, the too-loud boasts that used to trail behind him like a second skin, gone. It had been a long time, Sasuke realized. So long, in fact, that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Naruto smile. Not a smirk. Not a curve of the lips twisted with irony or disdain. A real one. He didn’t know if it had just faded quietly one day or been carved out of him all at once, but it was gone now, like it had never been there to begin with.

Sasuke barely had time to hold onto that thought.

The moment came fast. Too fast.

There was a flicker in the trees, a shape darting where no shape should be. The sharp whir of metal, and then the crackling hiss of a wire tightening around a trunk. Sasuke’s hand was halfway to his kunai pouch when he felt it, a presence, violent and immediate, rushing past him like the wind off a cutting edge.

Naruto.

A blur of movement.

One moment the enemy was descending, claws outstretched and eyes gleaming with intent, and the next, he was on the ground, gasping through a mouthful of earth and blood, Naruto's forearm pressing hard into the back of his neck, the angle of it just shy of lethal. No jutsu. No wasted motion. Just a brutal efficiency that made Sasuke's breath catch.

He watched, frozen in a stillness he despised, as Naruto moved with the precision of someone who had done this before. Not in training. Not in some academy exercise. But in reality. In blood and bone.

Naruto's hands didn't even tremble as he disarmed the man, rifled through the ninja’s pouches with the quiet detachment of someone handling meat. His fingers found each weapon, each concealed blade, and tossed them to the side without fanfare. The enemy didn’t so much as twitch beneath him.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Naruto began binding the man with chakra wire pulled from his pouch, tight, clean knots that spoke of practice. Of repetition.

Across the clearing, a blur of silver marked Kakashi's own counterattack. The second assailant didn’t even touch the ground before being slammed into a tree with a force that rattled the branches above. The jonin stood calmly over the fallen enemy, eye already narrowing as he examined the blades scattered near their feet.

"Well done," Kakashi said, voice as mild as ever, though Sasuke didn’t miss the way he glanced at Naruto longer than necessary. "These two are known as the Demon Brothers. Chūnin-level. Missing-nin from Kirigakure. Not your average bandits."

Sakura had gone pale beside him, breathing fast, her eyes flickering between the bound attacker and the torn earth where Naruto had made impact.

"Naruto," Kakashi called casually, as if this were just another team exercise, "you didn’t get scratched, did you? Their blades were laced with poison."

Naruto glanced up from where he was tightening the last knot, the light catching the side of his face.

"No," he said simply.

Nothing more.

Not a word of explanation. No defensiveness. No bravado. Just that one syllable, calm as still water.

Kakashi hummed quietly, nodding as if that was all he needed.

But Sasuke couldn’t look away.

He should have been the one to react first. Should have been the one to intercept, to protect the client, to prove himself. But all he could do was watch, because Naruto had been faster. Sharper. And somehow, colder. There had been nothing childish in his movements. Nothing that even remotely resembled the idiot he once knew.

The breeze tugged at the trees again, shifting leaves like whispers

Naruto stood, brushing his palms off on his pants, his eyes already scanning the tree line like he expected another wave. Like he had seen this pattern before. Fought this kind of battle a hundred times.

Sasuke's throat was dry, his fingers clenched around the fabric of his sleeves.

But Naruto wasn’t looking at him. He wasn’t looking at anyone.

He had already moved on.

And Sasuke,for the first time, felt like the one chasing shadows.

 

____________________________

 

 

The fire crackled softly, its low amber glow licking at the edge of the surrounding darkness like a living thing trying to keep the forest at bay. Shadows danced along the tree trunks, flickering silhouettes that twisted with each gust of wind sweeping through the clearing. The smell of roasted fish hung in the air, but Naruto sat apart from the others, his hands resting loosely on his knees, his gaze distant and sharp, watching the darkness just beyond the firelight.

Sakura and Sasuke were seated near the campfire, the remnants of their meal in their laps. Sakura spoke occasionally in a hushed voice, though Sasuke offered little more than a grunt or a nod in reply. Tazuna huddled near the flame, pulling his coat tighter around himself, casting cautious glances into the woods.

Naruto didn’t eat. His stomach had been quiet for hours, silenced by something heavier than the hunger he was used to.

His eyes tracked movement invisible to the others, the barest flickers between the trees, not chakra, not threat, just habit. He was listening to the forest like it was breathing. Every rustle, every creak in the branches above, every shifting shadow could mean the difference between quiet and blood.

His hand itched to reach for a wand that wasn’t there, mouth twisting around words that wouldn’t serve him anymore. He wanted to put up wards, wanted to shield them and cover them for the nights as he had done countless times while on the run. But alas, he didn’t have his wand anymore and his magic was far from reaching that level of control.

He exhaled slowly.

A flicker of memory slid beneath his lashes: Itachi, seated cross-legged beneath the shadow of a dying tree, his voice low, steady, and unyielding as he warned him about the dangers of missions such as this one. Of ambushes and surprises hiding in the greenery.

The Demon Brothers had been too obvious. Clumsy for trained killers. Their ambush wasn’t meant to succeed.

Naruto rose to his feet without a sound, the movement fluid, unhurried, like water slipping between stones. He padded over to where Kakashi sat, leaning against a tree with one leg bent, an unreadable expression on his half-covered face.

"They weren't the real threat," He said quietly, his eyes never leaving the forest.

Kakashi's visible eye tilted slightly, not with surprise, just interest. "Oh?"

"They were meant to test us," he continued. "Maybe to see how strong you are. Or how strong we aren't. But someone sent them to start something. This isn't over."

For a moment, Kakashi was silent. Then, he offered only the smallest of nods. "Noted."

Nothing more. No follow-up questions. No challenge. He had already known, of course he had.

Naruto returned to his side of the camp and settled into a meditative pose, legs folded, hands resting lightly in his lap. His breathing slowed. He reached inward, searching for the tug of energy beneath the surface of his skin, the duality that twisted in him like braided threads: chakra and something else. Older. Wilder. Magic.

Footsteps padded quietly over the dirt and stopped a few paces away. Kakashi's voice followed, low, but not unkind. "You meditate often?"

Naruto kept his eyes closed. "Trying to learn how to focus my chakra better. Control’s still... rough. Especially with everything else tangled up in it."

"That kind of precision takes years," Kakashi said. "But you might be surprised how much you can refine under pressure. Later in the mission, I’ll have you do some field training. If things calm down."

Naruto cracked one eye open, studying Kakashi’s silhouette. "Thanks."

Kakashi gave a faint shrug, turning back toward his tree. "Don’t thank me until after the bruises."

With that, he returned to his spot, settling into a light doze, one that Naruto suspected wasn’t as deep as it appeared. Sakura had already curled into her cloak, back turned toward the fire. Sasuke lay on his side, eyes closed, though Naruto noted the subtle tension in his frame.

Everyone slept with one eye open, whether they admitted it or not.

Naruto inhaled deeply, diving back into that quiet place within himself, where magic and chakra swirled like opposing tides. Somewhere in that intersection was balance. He just hadn’t found it yet.

But he would.

Because this wasn’t his first fight. And it wouldn’t be his last.

 

 

 

chapter 18 already up 

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Shout out to my boy, G, for helping my indecisive ass choose a title.