Chapter 11 & 12: Graduation & Team Selection (Patreon)

Graduation

Months passed in a slow, dragging haze. Seasons changed, the sun rose and fell, and Naruto remained at the bottom of the class. No matter how hard   tried, no matter how much he studied, Mizuki always found a way to sabotage him. His test scores were altered, his assignments were marked unfairly, and when he got something right, Mizuki simply moved the goalposts. It became routine. Expected. Naruto stopped reacting after a while. Stopped fighting it. He had learned something important—humans were strange creatures, and the ones in power could bend the rules however they wanted.

But that was fine. The Academy didn’t define him. He had other ways to grow.

He still went to the Forest of Death, slipping past the guards, vanishing into the wilderness like a shadow. Out there, he could breathe. He could run and jump and hunt and play, letting his body move in ways it wasn’t supposed to. He trained his abilities in secret, pushing them further, testing their limits. He learned how to track, how to climb, how to move faster than human eyes could follow. He learned how to listen—not just with his ears, but with every part of himself, the way prey listened for predators, the way wolves listened to the wind.

Another year passed.

They were all eight years old now.

One day, Naruto sat on the street, idly petting a stray cat. The cat purred against his hand, warm and soft, rubbing its face into his palm. Naruto liked cats. They reminded him of something distant, something he couldn’t quite name—memories of being small and quick, of chasing things through the dark, of curling up in high places where no one could reach.

Then, a shadow. Footsteps. Someone stood in front of him.

Naruto looked up. "Weasel."

Itachi smiled, the way he always did. A quiet smile, careful and measured. "It’s Itachi, Naruto-kun."

Naruto tilted his head. "Itachi."

Itachi crouched slightly, watching the cat in Naruto’s hands. "I see you’ve found another kitten."

Naruto continued petting the cat. He didn’t say anything.

"You know, Naruto, Sasuke often talks about you," Itachi said after a moment. "He says you’re a good student, but the Academy teachers sabotage you."

Naruto didn’t answer immediately. His fingers ran through the cat’s fur, feeling the warmth beneath his palm. "I manage."

Itachi studied him. His dark eyes were calm, unreadable. "You see, Naruto-kun. I’m going on a long mission. Can you promise me something?"

Naruto glanced up. "Why?"

Itachi didn’t answer right away. "It will be a long time before I return. And it’s because I know you are a good person."

Naruto thought about that for a moment. A good person. He wasn’t sure what that meant. He had killed a man once. But animals killed all the time, and they weren’t evil.

Still, he nodded. "Ok."

"Be a good friend to Sasuke," Itachi said softly. "And… be there for him."

Naruto thought about Sasuke. Thought about the way he had refused to be friends, but hadn’t completely shut the door on it either. Not yet.

"Ok. Dattebane."

Itachi ruffled his hair. Naruto scowled, shaking him off, but Itachi only chuckled. "You should smile more often, Naruto-kun." He stood up. "Now, farewell."

Naruto watched him walk away.

That was the last time he ever saw Weasel.

Because the next day, the air was thick with blood.

The village whispered in hushed, frantic voices. Streets that were normally filled with laughter and chatter were eerily silent. The Uchiha Compound, once a bustling district, was locked down, its gates closed, its pathways stained red.

Itachi Uchiha had slaughtered his own clan.

Killed them all.

His parents. His relatives. His friends.

Everyone, except for one person.

Sasuke.

The lone survivor.

Naruto stood outside the compound, staring at the ANBU stationed at the entrance. He could smell it. Blood. So much of it. It clung to the air, thick and coppery, seeping into the ground, into the walls. He didn’t need to see inside to know what it looked like.

Sasuke hadn’t come to class that day.

Or the next.

When he finally did, he was different.

He was quiet before, but now he was silent. He didn’t talk to anyone, didn’t acknowledge anyone. He sat alone. Ate alone. Trained alone. There was something hollow in his eyes, something dark and bottomless, like a wound that couldn’t close.

Naruto didn’t try to talk to him.

What could he say?

He didn’t know what it was like to have a family, but he knew what it was like to be alone.

So he just… stayed nearby. Close enough to be there, but not close enough to intrude.

Weeks passed.

The village moved on, as villages always did.

Sasuke didn’t.

One evening, Naruto found him in the training grounds, standing in front of a battered log. His hands were clenched into fists, his body trembling. The sun was setting, painting the sky in deep oranges and purples.

Naruto didn’t say anything.

Sasuke punched the log. Again. And again. His knuckles were raw, split open, blood smearing against the wood. His breath came in ragged gasps.

Naruto sat down on a nearby rock, watching.

Sasuke didn’t acknowledge him.

For a long time, there was only the sound of fists hitting wood, over and over.

Then, finally, Sasuke stopped. He stood there, panting, shoulders heaving. His hands shook at his sides.

Naruto spoke.

"It wasn’t your fault."

Sasuke flinched.

Naruto didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to.

Sasuke turned slightly, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Go away."

Naruto didn’t move.

Sasuke clenched his fists. "I said, go away."

Naruto tilted his head. "Not yet."

Sasuke stared at him.

Naruto met his gaze, unblinking.

Sasuke exhaled sharply, turning away. He sat down heavily on the ground, arms resting on his knees. His face was shadowed, the last light of the sun slipping behind the trees.

They sat in silence.

Naruto didn’t speak again.

But he didn’t leave, either.

—ToT—

Years slipped by like water through fingers, silent and inevitable. Time didn’t wait, didn’t care. The world moved forward, the village kept turning, but Sasuke… Sasuke never came back from that night.

Before, he had been distant, but now he was something else entirely. Cold. Hollow. Like a blade sharpened too thin, cutting without meaning to. He didn’t talk much, didn’t engage. Every interaction was short, clipped, functional. There was no room for warmth. He trained harder than anyone, took every lesson, every spar, every test as a challenge, a fight he had to win. Not for glory. Not for praise. Just because. Because losing wasn’t an option. Because weakness wasn’t allowed. Because there was something in him that refused to rest.

He had no friends.

Naruto didn’t either.

Not that he really cared. It wasn’t anything new. No one in their class wanted to be around him. He was too weird, too quiet, too unpredictable. If he wasn’t being scolded by the teachers, he was ignored. If he wasn’t ignored, he was whispered about. He was creepy. Strange. Unnerving. He sat alone at lunch, worked alone during class. That was fine. He didn’t need them. He had always been alone. He was used to it.

He still had the Forest of Death.

He still had himself.

He still had his past lives, their echoes in his skin, their instincts in his bones.

So he trained.

He honed himself in ways no one else could understand. His body adapted, shifted, changed in ways that weren’t visible but were undeniably there. His grip became stronger, his balance perfect. His senses expanded beyond human limits. He moved like no one else, ran like the wind, saw in the dark like an owl, heard like a wolf. He didn’t need jutsu. He didn’t need tricks. He had something else. Something deeper. Something older.

The Academy felt smaller now. Constricting. A cage made of rules and expectations he didn’t care about.

Graduation was coming soon.

Finally.

—ToT—

The space around him rippled like disturbed water, shifting between red and black. The scent of damp stone, thick iron, and something deeper—something old—filled his senses. It was cold here, colder than it should be, and yet the air was thick, almost suffocating. A massive cage loomed before him, stretching higher than any building he had ever seen. The bars, thick as tree trunks, pulsed with an eerie glow, humming with power. And behind them…

The Fox.

A being of raw hatred, coiled muscle, and seething malice.

It moved like a storm given flesh, tails flicking lazily, each one a force of destruction on its own. Its fur bristled, thick and wild, and its eyes—massive, burning—locked onto him like he was prey. Then it lunged.

Claws swiped, teeth snapped, the ground shook with its movements—but the bars held. The barrier did not waver. Naruto did not move.

The Kyuubi sneered, stepping back, tails lashing behind it. "You don’t flinch, brat. Are you not afraid?"

Naruto tilted his head, expression unreadable. "Why would I be afraid?"

The Fox narrowed its eyes.

"You are caged," Naruto continued, voice quiet, calm. "You cannot harm me."

The beast snarled, fangs bared. "Tch. You’re an arrogant little pest, aren’t you?"

Naruto did not answer. His gaze never wavered, sharp and unwavering as he studied the creature before him.

Then, finally, he spoke. "Why did you kill my parents?"

A slow silence settled.

Then laughter—deep, guttural, filled with something dark and heavy. It rolled through the chamber, vibrating through the very air.

"Why?" the Kyuubi mused, voice thick with cruel amusement. "Because I hated them, of course."

Naruto watched. He didn’t react. Didn’t blink.

"I despised your father. I despised your mother. Their arrogance, their chains, their wretched existence. They thought they could control me. Tame me." The beast snarled, voice dripping with venom. "I am the Kyuubi no Kitsune! The strongest of the Tailed Beasts! I bow to no one! And so… I killed them."

The words hung in the air, heavy and absolute.

Naruto's expression did not change. He only blinked once. Slowly. Then, as if considering something, he asked, "So… you killed them because you liked it?"

Silence.

Then the Kyuubi grinned.

"Liked it? No, you misunderstand, brat. I loved it." It leaned forward, a cruel glint in its eyes. "I loved the feeling of my claws piercing their flesh. I loved the scent of their blood in the air. I loved watching their faces contort in pain as their lives drained away. It was delicious."

Naruto listened. His face remained blank.

"You are evil, then?" he asked, tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather.

The Kyuubi barked a laugh. "Evil? No, foolish child. I am the devil!" It grinned, sharp and terrible, its laughter echoing off the walls like distant thunder. "I am hate! I am destruction! I am—"

"I see," Naruto interrupted.

The Fox paused.

Naruto nodded once. "Well then. Farewell."

And with that, he was gone.

—ToT—

The final exam was surprisingly difficult. Not in the way Naruto had expected—he knew the written test would be annoying, but this? This was just mean.

One of the math questions stood out in particular:

"A shinobi squad is being pursued by enemy forces at a speed of 15 meters per second. The squad must reach a safe zone 3 kilometers away before reinforcements arrive in 4 minutes. If each shinobi in the squad has a base speed of 12 meters per second but can boost their speed by 30% with chakra enhancement, will they make it in time? If not, by how many meters will they fall short?"

Naruto stared at it. Blinked. Thought about just writing "Use Body Flicker and pray." But no, that would just get him another glare from Iruka. He tapped the pencil against his desk. Maybe if he just wrote the bare minimum that made it look like he understood… Yeah. That was the plan.

He scribbled some numbers down, made it look like he actually tried, and moved on.

The kunai throwing test was easy. That was muscle memory by now. Ropes and wire? No problem. A shinobi had to be good at setting traps, and Naruto had long since learned to work with whatever was available.

Then came the sparring test.

His opponent? Sasuke Uchiha.

The whole class paid attention now. Naruto had drawn with him once before, but that had been years ago. This was different. They were both stronger now.

The match started, and Sasuke moved like lightning, fast and precise. Naruto dodged, countered, but never fully committed. He wasn't here to destroy Sasuke; he was here to pass. Sasuke, however, wasn't holding back. His hits were sharper, his movements carrying more frustration. Naruto had expected that. Sasuke had changed after the massacre, and every fight, every test, every moment was another chance for him to prove himself.

The match ended in a draw. Naruto could have won if he used his abilities, but he didn’t. No need to show everything. Sasuke looked irritated. Naruto didn’t care.

Finally, it was time for the viva—the final part of the exam. One by one, students walked into the room and walked out with their Konoha headbands. Naruto watched, waiting for his turn.

Then—

"Uzumaki Naruto."

He stood up, stretched his arms, and walked in.

Inside, Iruka and Mizuki sat at the desk, clipboards in front of them.

"Are you nervous, Naruto?" Iruka asked, his tone lighter than usual.

Naruto shook his head. "Not really."

Iruka hummed, then nodded. "Alright, let's begin. First, Body Flicker."

Easy. Naruto disappeared in a blur and reappeared on the other side of the room. Iruka nodded in approval.

"Henge."

Naruto transformed into the Hokage, then back to himself.

Iruka smiled. "Well done."

However, before they could move on, Mizuki leaned forward slightly, eyes sharp.

"Perform a Clone Jutsu."

Naruto's stomach dropped.

That… That was a problem.

He swallowed, hands forming the seal. Chakra surged, unsteady, unwilling. He focused, pushed, tried to mold it properly.

A puff of smoke.

And there it was. A single, half-dead clone on the floor. Pale, twitching, pathetic.

Silence.

Mizuki made a note. Iruka sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Naruto…"

Failed.

The rest of the night was… eventful.

Mizuki approached Naruto after his failure, his voice lower than usual, laced with something that made Naruto's nose wrinkle. He smelled off—like sweat and something bitter underneath, something like metal but not quite blood. Malice.

Still, Naruto listened. Mizuki spoke of an opportunity, a secret test, a way to pass and earn his headband. All he had to do was steal a scroll from the Hokage’s office.

Naruto could tell it was a lie. But he didn’t say no.

Breaking into the Hokage’s office wasn’t the hardest thing in the world. He’d snuck around the village plenty of times before, and getting past the old man’s security was nothing compared to dodging shopkeepers with brooms. He slipped in, took the scroll, and left without anyone noticing. Simple.

Now, he waited in the forest, perched on a tree branch, the heavy scroll lying beside him. He had come too early. That was fine.

He drummed his fingers against the bark, then glanced down at the scroll. He could smell the ink, old paper, something musty. The forbidden scroll. Why was it forbidden? He untied it, unrolled it, and skimmed through the first technique.

Multi Shadow Clone Jutsu.

He tilted his head. Shadow Clones were normally inefficient, a waste of chakra for most shinobi. But this one—this one looked different. His eyes scanned the technique, and within minutes, he understood.

He closed his eyes, memorized the flow of chakra, and then—

Iruka’s voice snapped through the quiet.

“Naruto! What have you done?!”

Naruto blinked, looking down to see Iruka staring at him with something between disbelief and anger. He could smell something else, too—concern? Panic?

Before he could answer, another voice slithered through the air.

"Ah, Iruka-sensei, you're early," Mizuki stepped into the clearing, his smile too wide, too sharp.

Iruka turned, confusion darkening his expression. "Mizuki? What’s going on?"

Mizuki chuckled. "It’s a special test, right?"

Iruka froze, his breath catching. His eyes flickered from Mizuki to Naruto, to the scroll in his hands. Naruto saw the moment the realization hit him.

It was too late.

Mizuki moved fast, faster than Naruto expected. A blur of silver, a spinning weapon flying straight toward Iruka. Naruto barely had time to react before Iruka shoved him out of the way, taking the kunai to his shoulder instead.

Blood splattered onto the ground.

Naruto landed on his feet, eyes darting between the two men. Mizuki was laughing. Iruka was grimacing.

"You know, Naruto," Mizuki said, voice smooth like oil, "there’s something the village never told you. Something Iruka never told you."

Naruto stayed silent.

"You’re not just some orphan. You’re not just some random brat. You’re the Nine-Tailed Fox that destroyed this village twelve years ago."

Iruka inhaled sharply. "Mizuki—!"

"You killed Iruka’s parents, you killed so many people, and they all hate you for it. You think anyone actually sees you as human?" Mizuki’s grin stretched wider, his eyes gleaming. "Iruka too. He’s been pretending this whole time, but deep down, he must hate you."

Naruto waited.

Watched.

Studied.

Iruka’s scent shifted. The blood, the pain, the sweat, but nothing sharp, nothing acrid, nothing that meant hatred.

Iruka, clutching his wounded shoulder, looked up at Naruto, his expression torn but steady.

"You’re not the Nine-Tails," Iruka said, voice firm despite the pain. "You’re a citizen of the Hidden Leaf. A member of this village."

Naruto tilted his head. "I am its jailor," he murmured.

"Not a monster," Iruka insisted.

Naruto stared. He had expected… something else. Humans loved revenge. But Iruka wasn't doing what a human should be doing.

Strange.

Mizuki growled. "Don’t listen to him, Naruto! You think these people will ever accept you? They’re just using you until they don’t need you anymore. You’re better off dead!"

He moved, another kunai already drawn.

Iruka yelled for Naruto to run.

Naruto did not run.

He crossed his fingers.

"Multi Shadow Clone Jutsu."

The world shifted.

A deafening boom echoed as the clearing flooded with copies of him, bodies appearing in a blink, filling every space. Dozens. Hundreds. They stood, identical, silent, watching Mizuki with blank, sapphire eyes.

"Dattebane," they muttered in unison.

Mizuki’s breath hitched. His eyes darted around wildly, his kunai shaking slightly in his grip.

Naruto blinked. Ah. He's scared.

The clones moved.

A blur of fists and feet and impact. A storm of bodies overwhelming a single target.

The sounds of Mizuki’s screams were swallowed by the sheer number of them.

It didn’t take long.

When it was over, the clones popped out of existence, one by one, until only the original remained.

Mizuki was crumpled on the ground, battered, broken, and barely conscious.

Iruka, still kneeling, looked at Naruto with something unreadable in his eyes.

Finally, he exhaled.

"Come here," he said.

Naruto hesitated but stepped forward.

Iruka reached up, his fingers brushing against Naruto’s forehead, and then—

A headband.

He tied it in place, the metal cool against Naruto’s skin.

"Congratulations on your graduation, Naruto.”

—ToT—

Oddly, Iruka treated Naruto to ramen that night.

Naruto didn’t question it. Free food was free food. He sat at the counter, feet kicking idly against the stool, inhaling the scent of rich broth and fresh noodles. The steam curled into the air as Teuchi slid the first bowl toward him, and Naruto dug in without hesitation.

Across from him, Iruka sat stiffly, his chopsticks in hand but barely touching his food. His shoulder was bandaged now, but Naruto could still smell the faint traces of blood beneath the scent of ramen.

Ayame leaned on the counter, talking to Iruka in a different tone than usual, her voice softer, almost playful.

Iruka’s reaction was... strange. His pulse picked up, face turning red, eyes darting away awkwardly.

Naruto blinked. Why was he reacting like that? His scent changed, too—something warm, flustered. His heart was beating faster than usual.

Ah. Mating call. Just like animals.

Naruto swallowed a mouthful of noodles. "Are you going to mate, Iruka-sensei? Ayame-nee-chan?"

Iruka choked so violently that he nearly flipped the stool over, coughing into his sleeve. Ayame went beet red, her hands flying up to wave frantically. Teuchi burst out laughing from the kitchen, his deep chuckles shaking the air.

"Naruto!" Iruka wheezed.

Naruto shrugged, stuffing more noodles into his mouth. "What?"

Ayame groaned, covering her face. "You don't just ask people that, Naruto!"

"Why not? It's normal," he said around a mouthful of broth. "Animals do it all the time."

Iruka pressed his fingers against his temple. "Humans are not animals."

Naruto stared at him. Then at Ayame. Then back at his ramen. "Hmm." He slurped up another mouthful, piling up empty bowls as quickly as Teuchi could refill them.

Iruka sighed but let it go. After a moment, he rested his elbow on the counter, looking at Naruto thoughtfully.

"So, Naruto," he said, "what’s your dream?"

Naruto paused mid-bite.

A dream?

He’d never really thought about it before. He chewed slowly, letting the question settle in his mind.

Did he have a dream?

He wanted to survive. That was the whole reason he became a shinobi in the first place. To survive in a village that hated him. To stay strong enough that no one could ever hurt him. But a dream?

His fingers curled around his chopsticks.

The villagers treated him like a shadow, a ghost that haunted the streets. They looked through him, past him, like he wasn’t there. Even when they sneered, even when they whispered, it was like they were talking about something distant, something unreal.

"I..." He hesitated. The words felt strange in his mouth. "I want people to see me. Dattebane."

Iruka nodded, considering. "You want to be famous?"

Famous?

Naruto frowned. Like what? A writer? A playwright? A painter? But he was a shinobi. Shinobi didn’t write books or paint pictures.

"The only way a ninja becomes famous," Iruka continued, "is by becoming a famous ninja."

Naruto tilted his head. "Are you a famous ninja, sensei?"

"Uh... um." Iruka coughed into his fist. "No. But that's my point! The most well-known ninja in the village is its Kage. For Konoha, that’s the Hokage."

Naruto thought about that.

Hashirama Senju was Hokage. People remembered him.

Tobirama Senju was Hokage. People still talked about him.

Hiruzen, the old man, was Hokage. He was famous.

His father... His father was Hokage. The whole village spoke of the Fourth in reverence, in awe.

Naruto clenched his chopsticks.

"Then I'll become the next Hokage."

Iruka blinked. Then he smiled, ruffling Naruto’s red hair. "I'm sure you’ll be a great one. Popular too."

Naruto didn’t pull away. Didn’t move.

Iruka’s hand was warm.

And for the first time, Naruto thought maybe—just maybe—he could believe it.

—ToT—

Team Selections

Naruto sat beside Kiba, arms crossed, his foot tapping idly against the floor as Iruka spoke at the front of the class. The room smelled of old wood, sweat, and ink—familiar, comforting in a strange way. Iruka was talking about how much he’d enjoyed teaching them, how they’d all grown over the years. Something about how they were entering a new stage of their lives. Naruto half-listened, but his mind drifted.

Four years at the Academy. He’d spent most of it as the dead last. Not because he didn’t try—he did. But Mizuki had done everything in his power to make sure Naruto failed. Naruto wasn’t stupid. He noticed the way Mizuki’s tests always had something extra thrown in for him, how he was always singled out, how his kunai seemed to land just outside the target when he knew his aim was good. But in the end, it hadn’t mattered. He was here now.

Iruka started reading off the teams.

"Team One..."

Naruto leaned back, only half-paying attention. He wasn’t sure what to expect. He didn’t really care who he got as long as they weren’t annoying. Maybe Choji. Or Shino. They weren’t too bad.

"Team Seven: Sasuke Uchiha, Sakura Haruno, and Naruto Uzumaki under Jounin Kakashi Hatake." 

Naruto blinked.

Sakura let out a high-pitched squeal and fist-pumped the air. Ino slumped in disappointment. Sasuke was—unsurprisingly—indifferent, arms crossed, not even reacting.

Naruto tilted his head. So he was going to be on a team with the broody Uchiha and the pink-haired fangirl? And his sensei would be Inu—no, Kakashi. The guy he hadn’t seen in years, the one who read that book and had a habit of appearing and disappearing like a ghost.

This would be... something.

Iruka wrapped up the announcements, thanking them all and wishing them good luck. One by one, sensei after sensei arrived, collecting their new teams. Some were excited, some were nervous, some looked like they were already regretting their lives.

Team 7 waited.

And waited.

The room emptied out. Other teams were long gone, off to meet their sensei and start their new lives as genin.

Naruto leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t in a rush. This was normal. Inu had always been late. He remembered that much.

Sakura huffed loudly. "Why is he so late?"

"Maybe he had an important mission," Naruto offered absently, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve.

"Maybe he's just lazy," Sasuke muttered, eyes closed, arms still crossed.

Naruto picked up a beetle crawling across the desk, inspecting it. Its tiny legs wiggled in protest as it tried to escape his grip. He watched it struggle.

The minutes dragged on.

An hour.

Two hours.

Sakura groaned, slumping over the desk dramatically. Sasuke was still motionless, like a statue. Naruto let the beetle go.

Three hours later, the door finally creaked open.

"Yo."

Sakura practically exploded. "You're late!"

Sasuke shot the man a sharp glare.

Naruto looked him over once before shrugging and going back to watching the beetle crawl away.

Kakashi stood there, hands in his pockets, relaxed, his hitai-ate slanted over one eye, orange book suspiciously absent. His mask covered most of his face, but his visible eye curved up slightly in an amused expression.

"My first impression... you’re boring," he said lazily. "Meet me on the rooftop in ten seconds."

Naruto stood up without a word, stepped onto the window frame, and jumped out.

Sakura let out a horrified shriek. "NARUTO!"

He ignored her. The wind rushed past him as he fell. He twisted midair, grabbing onto one of the pipes running along the building. His fingers tightened around the metal as he swung himself up, pushing off the wall with his foot, propelling himself higher. His hands caught the ledge, and he pulled himself up, landing smoothly on the rooftop.

Eight seconds.

Kakashi was already there, watching him with an unreadable expression.

His visible eye curved again. A slow, amused eye-smile.

Kakashi leaned against the railing, eyeing them with that same lazy indifference, hands still stuffed in his pockets. "Alright, introductions. Likes, dislikes, dreams for the future. You go first," he said, nodding toward Sakura.

Sakura straightened up immediately. "Why me first? You're the sensei! Shouldn't you go first?"

Kakashi hummed. "Fair enough. My name is Kakashi Hatake. I have no interest in telling you my likes or dislikes. Dreams for the future? Hmm… I have a few hobbies."

Naruto stared. That was... absolutely nothing. The only useful thing there was his name, which they already knew. Sakura huffed in frustration. Sasuke just stared at him like he was trying to burn a hole through his mask.

Sakura flipped her hair and went next. "Ahem. My name is Sakura Haruno! My likes are—" she glanced at Sasuke and blushed, "—and my dislikes are certain people! My dream for the future is—" she trailed off, giggling to herself.

Naruto sighed.

Sasuke went next, voice as flat as ever. "My name is Sasuke Uchiha. I have few likes, many dislikes. My dream… no, my goal is to kill a certain man."

Naruto didn’t even have to guess who that was.

Kakashi nodded slowly. "Alright. That just leaves you."

Naruto leaned back on his hands, thinking for a second before speaking. "I’m Naruto Uzumaki. I like animals and the forest. Eating ramen. I like painting. I…" he paused, "…want to become the Hokage. Dattebane."

Kakashi tilted his head slightly. "Interesting bunch." His tone was unreadable.

Naruto thought they were done, but Kakashi straightened, his entire demeanor shifting. His casual slouch vanished, and the air around him grew heavier.

"Alright, let’s get something clear," he said, voice smooth and easy, but with an edge now. "You aren’t ninja yet."

Sakura blinked. "What?"

Sasuke frowned.

Naruto remained still.

Kakashi continued, "The real test begins tomorrow. The Academy only determines who can become a genin. Whether or not you actually do is up to your assigned Jounin. If I decide you’re not fit to be shinobi, you’ll be sent back to the Academy. Or, in most cases, sent home entirely. The failure rate? Roughly sixty-six percent. Two out of three genin teams don’t make it."

Sakura’s mouth opened and closed. Sasuke’s fingers twitched slightly. Naruto just tilted his head.

"You’ll meet me tomorrow at Training Ground Seven at five AM for your final test," Kakashi said, then casually added, "Oh, and don’t eat breakfast. Or dinner, actually. You might throw up."

With that, he vanished.

There was a long silence.

Sakura groaned. "What kind of test is this?"

Sasuke said nothing.

Naruto stood up, stretching. "I’m getting ramen. You guys coming?"

Sakura made a face. "No way. Too many calories."

Sasuke just shook his head.

Naruto shrugged. "Your loss."

And with that, he headed for Ichiraku’s.

—ToT—

No ramen today. The stand was closed, a simple sign hanging where the usual warm lights should have been. Gone to a wedding, be back in two days, it read in Teuchi’s neat handwriting. Naruto exhaled slowly. Just his luck. He’d been looking forward to a meal all day, and now he had to find something else.

As he turned away, a small voice caught his attention.

"Food, please?"

Naruto paused. Across the street, huddled against the wall of an alley, were a handful of kids. No older than four, dressed in rags, eyes hollow with hunger. Their tiny hands reached out to passing pedestrians, but everyone ignored them, too caught up in their own world to spare a glance.

Naruto knew this scene. He had lived this scene.

A memory stirred. A past life. A body covered in brown fur, nimble claws scraping at dirt in desperation. Taki, during the famine. No food, no mercy, just hunger. Until he was finally caught—killed by children even more desperate than he was. A tiny squirrel, reduced to nothing but a meal.

The kids swarmed him as soon as they noticed him watching. Small hands tugged at his sleeves, pleading, desperate.

"Please, big brother, just a little food?"

"Anything, just a little bit?"

"Even a single coin, please!"

Naruto reached into his pocket, feeling the familiar shape of a few crumpled bills. He had just enough for himself. 500 ryō. Enough to buy something small to last him until tomorrow. But if he gave it away, he’d be starving too.

His stomach twisted, but not from hunger. He met their eyes—big, round, filled with the kind of hope that had no reason to exist. And Naruto made his decision.

"Come with me," he said.

The kids blinked, startled.

"You’re joking, right?" one of them whispered.

He wasn’t.

He led them through the village, past the food stalls that would never serve them, past the streets where they weren’t welcome, and straight into Akimichi BBQ. The rich scent of sizzling meat filled the air, making Naruto’s stomach ache, but he ignored it.

The hostess looked up as he entered, eyebrows raising at the group of ragged kids behind him.

"Table for…?"

"Four," Naruto said.

She hesitated, but she knew who he was, and more importantly, she knew better than to turn down a paying customer. A few minutes later, they were seated in a booth, and Naruto ordered three plates of mutton-roti.

The kids sat stiffly, as if they expected to be thrown out any second. When the food arrived, they hesitated for only a moment before digging in, stuffing their faces with shaking hands.

Naruto watched quietly, stomach growling. He could almost taste the food just by looking at it, but he didn’t reach for any of it. He had enough to feed them. Not himself.

The warmth of the restaurant contrasted sharply with the cold glares from a few of the wealthier patrons. Naruto ignored them.

Across the room, he noticed Team 10—Shikamaru, Ino, and Choji—sitting with their sensei, the big bearded man, Asuma. They were eating large dishes, chatting lazily, but every now and then, one of them would glance at Naruto and the kids.

He didn’t bother looking back.

The kids finished quickly, wiping their faces with their sleeves, looking both satisfied and a little embarrassed. One of them hesitated before turning to Naruto.

"Thank you."

The others nodded eagerly, their voices overlapping. "Thank you, big brother!"

Naruto just stood up and paid the bill. "Go home."

They ran off, still giggling, voices filled with more life than they had when he found them.

The second they were gone, his stomach twisted painfully, and he winced.

Guess he was starving today.

—ToT—

Naruto dipped his brush into the ink, watching as the black liquid bled into the bristles. The room was quiet except for the soft scratching of the brush against the paper. His hands moved instinctively, tracing out lines that formed the image in his mind. It wasn’t something he had seen firsthand, not something he could remember with certainty, but somehow… he knew.

His mother lay in a cave's bed, cradling him in her arms. Her red hair cascaded around her like a blanket, shielding him from the world. She was smiling, exhausted but happy. Beside her, his father sat, looking at both of them with an expression Naruto had never seen on anyone's face before—pride. Love. A quiet, unshakable joy.

The brushstrokes softened as he worked on their features. He had his mother’s eyes. Her hair too, though his was spikier. His nose, though… that belonged to his dad. And his ears.

Naruto stared at the painting for a long time once it was done.

He had never met them, not truly. And yet, he had their faces burned into his mind as if he had seen them a thousand times before. Maybe he had, in another life. Or maybe… something deep inside him refused to let him forget.

With slow, careful hands, he set the painting under the window to dry. Dawn was already creeping in, light stretching thin over the rooftops. Time to go.

He pulled on his white jacket, adjusting the collar as he slipped into his blue pants. His fingers worked quickly, securing his shinobi sandals before moving to the small pouch on his waist. He checked his supplies—kunai, shuriken, wire. Enough for whatever Inu had planned.

He stepped outside, the morning air crisp and biting against his skin.

Training Ground 7 awaited.

—ToT—