Naruto stared at the crystal lizard cradled limply in his arms, its tiny body gleaming faintly even in its unconscious state. He couldn't believe it had worked.
He had used a storage seal to trap the creature, tossed the scroll into the inventory, died in Lordran, and woken up back in his room. Now, here it was—a living thing from another world, safe in Konoha.
"Man, I actually did it," he whispered, marveling at the shimmering creature. The triumph was short-lived as his gaze flicked to the clock on the wall. His stomach sank.
He was late. Kakashi-late.
But that wasn't the worst of it.
He looked back down at the crystal lizard, its faint shimmer a stark reminder of what he'd done. A weirdly cute, otherworldly creature—brought here through sheer stubbornness and recklessness.
Naruto scratched his head, letting out a long sigh. I really shouldn't have brought you with me, he thought, shaking his head. "Now I'm in such a pickle."
The lizard twitched faintly in his arms, and Naruto couldn't help but smile wryly. "Welcome to Konoha, buddy. Let's hope I don't regret this."
The lizard, of course, sparkled faintly in its unconscious state, as if even passed out it wanted to make things difficult.
"What am I supposed to do with you?" Naruto groaned. He couldn't just waltz into a team meeting with a crystal-covered lizard. How would he even explain this? Oh yeah, found it chilling in a barrel in some creepy tower. Totally normal.
But then he paused. "...Wait, no one's actually asked about my armor or the fireballs I've been throwing around. Maybe they won't question this either?"
The lizard didn't respond, which was probably for the best.
Naruto frowned. "Yeah, no. This is way too shiny. You're gonna attract all the questions."
Naruto flipped the lizard over, holding it up by its tail. "Alright, let's see if you're a guy or a girl. No balls. Huh." He tilted his head. "Do lizards even have balls?"
The lizard flopped in his grip, its unconscious body still managing to look vaguely annoyed.
"Not important," Naruto muttered, flipping it back over. "Okay, what do I do?"
After a moment of thought, Naruto puckered his lips in a dramatic aha! expression and summoned a shadow clone.
"You. Take care of it."
The clone saluted. "Got it, boss."
Naruto handed the lizard over, but as he turned to leave, the clone snorted. "Wait, this thing's kinda cute. What're you gonna name it? Sparkles? Crystie? Ramen?"
Naruto froze mid-step, his eye twitching. "Don't give it dumb names!"
"Oh, so we're calling it something cool like 'Shiny Tail the Destroyer,' huh?" The clone smirked, wiggling the limp lizard in Naruto's direction.
Naruto facepalmed. "Just—just shut up and don't let it run away, okay?"
"Sure thing, boss." The clone grinned, cradling the unconscious lizard like it was a royal baby. The lizard, for its part, stayed unconscious, which was probably for the best.
Naruto shook his head, already regretting everything about this morning. "I'm surrounded by idiots… and I am the idiot."
----------------------------------------
Naruto appeared in the training ground, the familiar clearing surrounded by trees. The morning sunlight streamed through the leaves, creating shifting patterns of light and shadow on the grass. He immediately spotted Sasuke, sitting by the lake, focused on painting the serene lakeside view with careful, deliberate strokes. A few feet away, Sakura was seated on a mat, her head bent as she practiced calligraphy with a brush, the smooth movements of her hand leaving precise strokes on the parchment.
"Kakashi isn't here."
Sakura glanced up, blowing a stray strand of pink hair from her face. "Give it a few minutes," she replied, returning to her practice.
Naruto nodded, then took a few steps closer, peering at her work. "So… what are you guys doing?"
"Practicing," Sakura said, gesturing to the page in front of her. It was covered in evenly spaced kanji, written in neat, consistent strokes. "It's a homework assignment from the Barrier Corps. I'm learning the basic calligraphy styles of fūinjutsu."
Naruto squinted at the characters on the page. "Oh…" he muttered, scratching his head. "Looks like a bunch of squiggles to me."
Sakura frowned but didn't rise to the bait. "That's because you don't understand the precision needed for seals," she said matter-of-factly, continuing her strokes.
Naruto turned his attention to Sasuke, who hadn't said a word. "What about you, teme? What're you doing?"
"Wasting my time," Sasuke replied bluntly, not even looking up as he continued painting, his brush moving with quiet focus.
Naruto stared at the canvas. It wasn't half bad—the way Sasuke captured the reflections on the water was impressive, though Naruto would never admit it.
Feeling restless, Naruto wandered over to the far side of the training ground. If Kakashi wasn't here yet, he might as well get some training in. "Alright," he said to himself, rolling his shoulders. "Let's see how much I've improved."
He formed the cross hand seal, and with a puff of smoke, five shadow clones materialized in front of him. Each one wielded a Zweihander just like his own, resting the massive swords on their shoulders with casual confidence.
"Alright, you losers," the real Naruto said, hefting his own Zweihander. "Let's see if I've got what it takes to beat myself."
The clones didn't waste time. The first one dropped into the high guard, with the sword resting above its shoulder, angled for a heavy downward cut. It charged with a burst of speed, bringing the Zweihander down in a brutal slash aimed at Naruto's head.
Naruto braced himself, his own blade rising to meet the attack. The clash of steel echoed through the training ground as he blocked, stepping into the momentum of the strike. His grip adjusted instinctively—one hand on the guard, the other on the pommel, giving him precise control over the blade's leverage. With a twist of his hips, Naruto shoved the clone's blade aside and retaliated with a quick horizontal slash.
The clone jumped back, smoothly transitioning into the low guard. Its blade was held low but pointed forward, ready for a defensive thrust. Naruto smirked.
"Not bad," he muttered, lunging forward. His Zweihander swung in a tight arc, aiming for the clone's exposed side.
The clone countered, stepping back just enough to parry the blow, its blade gliding against Naruto's in a controlled motion. Before Naruto could press the attack, two more clones charged in, one moving into the high forward-pointing guard, while the other shifted into the fool with the blade held deceptively low.
"Crafty bastards," Naruto muttered as the clone darted forward, its blade feinting toward his midsection. Naruto didn't fall for it, pivoting to his left to avoid the trap. He adjusted his grip into a sliding motion, his left hand loosening slightly as he brought the Zweihander across his body in a sweeping arc.
The blade connected with the clone's sword, deflecting it upward and leaving the clone wide open. Naruto followed through with a heavy downward slash, dispelling the clone in a puff of smoke.
The next clone took advantage of the opening, thrusting its blade toward Naruto's chest. He barely had time to parry, his blade scraping against the clone's as sparks flew. The force of the thrust pushed him back, but Naruto quickly recovered, stepping into the clone's guard with a short, controlled thrust of his own. The Zweihander's tip struck true, dispelling the clone.
Two clones remained, both circling him with synchronized movements. One stayed in the high guard, its blade ready for a powerful cut, while the other kept its guard low and poised for a thrust.
Naruto tightened his grip, raising his Zweihander. The high guard gave him a clear view of both clones, his blade angled forward like a predator waiting to strike.
"Come on," he taunted, his eyes flicking between them.
The clone moved first, bringing its blade down in a crushing diagonal slash. Naruto sidestepped, his blade whipping downward to deflect the attack. But the other clone was ready, thrusting its blade toward his exposed side.
Naruto cursed, pivoting just in time to avoid the thrust. He dropped into a low stance himself, using the stance to parry the follow-up attack. The clash of steel echoed as he twisted his blade, throwing the clone off balance.
Seizing the opening, Naruto surged forward with a sliding grip, his Zweihander moving in a brutal upward slash. The clone didn't stand a chance, dispelling in a puff of smoke.
The final clone hesitated for a moment, adopting the fool's guard.
"Not gonna happen."
The clone adjusted its stance, switching to a high guard. Without warning, it lunged forward, its Zweihander slicing through the air in a powerful, deliberate cut aimed directly at Naruto's shoulder.
Naruto sidestepped, angling his own Zweihander to intercept. Steel met steel with a resonating clang, the force of the clash sending shockwaves up both their arms. The clone immediately twisted its wrist, disengaging the blades and spinning into a follow-up slash aimed for Naruto's legs.
But Naruto wasn't about to be caught off guard. He leapt over the attack with ease, using his elevated position to swing his blade downward.
The clone, quick on its feet, substituted at the last second. Naruto's blade connected with a wooden log—except this wasn't just an ordinary log. It was a clone-created decoy, and it poofed into a plume of smoke upon impact.
The clone emerged from the smoke, its Zweihander cutting through the mist in a wide, sweeping arc aimed at Naruto's side. Without hesitation, Naruto summoned the Force miracle, releasing a controlled shockwave of energy. The blast deflected the clone's blade mid-swing, throwing it off balance.
Naruto seized the moment and delivered a punishing riposte—a powerful, spinning kick that connected squarely with the clone's chest. The clone popped instantly in an explosion of chakra smoke.
Unfortunately, Naruto's momentum carried his kick straight into the massive tree behind the clone. His leg smashed into the trunk with devastating force, and the tree groaned loudly under the impact.
Crack!
The sound of splintering wood filled the clearing. The enormous tree tilted, its shadow growing larger as it began to fall… directly toward Naruto.
"Uh-oh," Naruto muttered, looking up at the descending behemoth. His instincts screamed at him to move, but instead, his mind raced with a reckless idea. What if I catch it?
Before he could act on his madness, something yanked him backward. Chakra strings coiled tightly around his leg, pulling with incredible force and dragging him out of the tree's path just as it came crashing down.
BOOM!
The ground trembled violently, shaking loose leaves and sending splinters flying in every direction as the trunk slammed into the earth. Naruto stumbled and fell back, blinking at the mess of debris. He turned his head to see the frayed chakra strings snapping one by one, their energy spent.
"That… was awesome," Naruto said, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"Awesome? Are you insane?" Sakura's voice cut through his daze, sharp and furious. "You almost got yourself flattened like a pancake!"
"Nothing to worry about. What's the worst that could happen?"
Sakura's eyebrow twitched. "Death," she said flatly, her tone dripping with exasperation.
"So?"
The boy's time in Lordran had long since dulled his fear of mortality. Death wasn't an end to him; it was just a minor inconvenience—he'd simply wake up back at the bonfire. No big deal.
Sakura stared at him, dumbfounded. "Can you believe this guy?" she snapped, turning to Sasuke for backup.
Sasuke didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on the fallen tree, specifically on the spot where Naruto's kick had landed. The trunk, a solid mass of wood that had likely stood for decades, was obliterated. Jagged splinters jutted out from a gaping hole in the bark, the sheer destruction a testament to Naruto's raw physical power.
A lazy voice interrupted the moment. "Looks like my genin are having an eventful morning," Kakashi drawled, appearing behind them like a shadow. His single visible eye scanned the scene, lingering on the shattered tree.
Then, without missing a beat, Kakashi added dryly, "Naruto, you're planting a new tree."
"Come on, Kakashi-sensei! It's just a tree!"
"That you destroyed."
Naruto grumbled under his breath, but Sakura's stern look kept him from arguing further.
As Naruto sulked and began brushing himself off, the rest of Team 7 gathered around.
Kakashi hid behind his usual mask of nonchalance; however, his thoughts churned like a raging storm.
What in the world did I just watch?
He had arrived long before Naruto's training session began, intending to keep up his reputation as the perpetually late sensei. But then Naruto had started sparring with his clones. Kakashi's plan to saunter in fashionably late fell apart as he decided to remain hidden, silently observing.
And what he saw left him baffled.
Naruto's stance, the way he wielded the Zweihander, screamed precision and skill—skill that Naruto did not have just yesterday. His movements were sharp, deliberate, and refined, a far cry from the chaotic, unpolished mess Kakashi had seen during the bell test.
And then there was the raw physical strength.
The way Naruto demolished that massive tree with a single kick wasn't something you could chalk up to chakra enhancement, at least not in this case. Kakashi's Sharingan had been activated for a brief moment to confirm his suspicions, and what he saw sent shivers down his spine.
There was no chakra enhancement.
It was all pure, unfiltered physical power. And it was terrifying.
How? What? Huh?
He felt like every time he started to unravel the mystery that was Naruto Uzumaki, the boy threw something new at him, shattering every conclusion Kakashi had pieced together.
The realization crept up slowly, but when it hit, it was like a hammer to the chest: Naruto is pretending.
Kakashi swallowed hard. Everything Naruto had shown them during the bell test had been surprising enough—a level of cunning and determination that far exceeded expectations. But now? Now Kakashi was sure the boy had been holding back, deliberately masking his true capabilities.
During the bell test, Kakashi had concluded that Naruto's abilities were strong enough to go head-to-head with a competent chunin, maybe even win with some luck. But what he was seeing now?
If this Naruto fought a chunin, he wouldn't just beat them—he'd toy with them like a cat does with a mouse.
The paranoia crept in, uninvited and impossible to shake.
Was this why Naruto had asked to be trained in kenjutsu? Not because he wanted to learn, but because he wanted an excuse to show off more of what he already knew?
Then there was his raw strength, which was far too great for someone of Naruto's supposed level.
The only comparison Kakashi could think of was a teenage Might Guy. But even Guy, as freakishly strong as he had been, hadn't displayed this level of power at such a young age. Naruto had the advantage of chakra enhancement if he ever chose to use it, but the sheer fact that he didn't need it spoke volumes.
Kakashi's throat felt dry.
There was no way Naruto had simply increased his strength and skill overnight. That wasn't how training worked. The growth Kakashi was witnessing—if it was even growth—was unnatural. No, it wasn't growth. It couldn't be.
Naruto must have been hiding it all along.
How much had he hidden during the bell test? How much was he hiding even now?
The thought made Kakashi's head spin. His initial assessment of Naruto's abilities was no longer reliable—everything he thought he knew had been turned on its head. The boy's competence wasn't just an outlier. It was a mask.
And if Naruto had gone to such lengths to hide this much, what else was he keeping secret?
Kakashi's mind raced with questions he didn't have answers to.
----------------------------------------
"Well, Team 7, I have to say, everyone's been showing a lot of improvement. Sakura, how's the Barrier Corps treating you?"
"It's tough," Sakura admitted, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Iwashi-sensei doesn't go easy on me, but I can see why you picked him."
Kakashi nodded, pleased.
"And you, refining your kenjutsu through sheer stubbornness and… I'm guessing hundreds of shadow clones?"
Naruto puffed up with pride. "What can I say? I'm a natural genius."
Yeah, like Kakashi believed a word of that. Thousands of shadow clones to figure out swordsmanship was one thing, but Naruto didn't have that one thing. Stances, grips, footwork—all of it couldn't magically be perfected through trial and error, no matter how many clones he used, especially in the span of a day.
As far as Kakashi knew, Naruto had only been taught the basics by Tenten. Basics were information, not instinct. You couldn't just conjure up the level of refined skill Naruto had displayed—effortlessly, at that—by fumbling your way through it. No, the more Kakashi thought about it, the more it solidified the theory that Naruto had already mastered this and was simply pretending. Pretending to be a beginner, pretending to figure things out.
And if Naruto was so keen on hiding these abilities, why show off his swordsmanship now? Why go through the effort to keep that hidden, while freely revealing other things like that shockwave technique, the fire jutsu, or even that ridiculous armor and sword? None of it added up.
Kakashi felt the tension building behind his temple, the start of what was sure to be an aneurysm-inducing headache.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he pushed down his rising frustration. With a flick of his wrist, his orange book came down on Naruto's head with a soft thwap.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
"Humility, Naruto," Kakashi said. "It's a good trait to have."
Naruto rubbed his head, grumbling, "It's true, though…"
"And you, Sasuke? Still working on your painting?"
Sasuke gave a curt nod, his brush moving smoothly over the canvas. "Hn."
Kakashi laid onto Sakura's mat and flipped open his book. "So, same plan as yesterday: personalized training. Unless anyone has something specific they need?"
Sakura raised her hand. "Actually, I could use some extra help with barrier techniques."
Kakashi snapped his fingers, and one of his clones materialized beside her. "All yours," the original said as the clone nodded and shunshined away with Sakura.
Naruto crossed his arms. "Can I get a powerful jutsu? Something that makes everyone know I'm awesome."
Would this mean Naruto would suddenly start showing off more ninjutsu under this new excuse? Kakashi wondered, his mind racing.
"Academics?" he asked, keeping his tone casual.
He needed time—time to process the boy's rapidly unfolding abilities, time to report this to the Hokage, before Naruto inevitably hit him with some new, mind-breaking jutsu that would send his headache into overdrive.
Still, that left him curious. What exactly was Naruto's chakra nature?
Naruto groaned. "Should've put more points into intelligence," he muttered, walking off with a grumble as one of Kakashi's clones followed him.
Sasuke and Kakashi were left alone as the faint sound of leaves rustling filled the silence between them. Sasuke dipped his brush into the ink, his strokes slow and deliberate. The dark pigment glided across the canvas, his hand steady despite the storm roiling inside him.
"Exciting morning," Kakashi said lightly, breaking the quiet.
"Hn," Sasuke replied, his voice barely audible.
The silence returned, tense and thick. Kakashi turned a page, eyes skimming the text, but his focus wasn't on the book. His gaze flicked to Sasuke's painting, then back to the boy.
"Got bored of just practicing strokes of ink with chakra?"
"It doesn't waste enough of my time," Sasuke replied flatly, his brush moving with precision.
"So… what do you think of Naruto's new kenjutsu?"
Sasuke's hand froze for the briefest moment, so brief that most wouldn't have noticed. But Kakashi wasn't most.
"You were watching?"
"Of course," Kakashi said. "It's hard not to when someone goes from flailing like a child to wielding a massive sword like a seasoned warrior overnight. Quite the transformation, don't you think?"
"You're impressed," Sasuke said, his tone clipped.
"I am," Kakashi admitted freely. "Naruto's come a long way, hasn't he? Physically stronger than most jonin, and that's just scratching the surface. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he surpassed me one day."
The words landed like a blow, though Sasuke tried to mask the reaction. His jaw clenched, and his strokes turned more erratic.
Kakashi studied him quietly. "I wonder," he said after a pause, "what Naruto will think when he finds out you've been copying his moves with your Sharingan."
"What are you trying to say?"
"I'm not trying to say anything. I'm just pointing out how interesting it is that you, with all your natural talent and your Sharingan, feel the need to keep up with Naruto by copying him."
"I don't need to copy him," Sasuke bit out, his voice sharp.
"Don't you?"
"Really, you saw Naruto kick through that tree, saw him swing that oversized sword like it weighed nothing, and now you're wondering how the hell you're supposed to catch up. Am I close?"
"Enough," Sasuke snapped, his voice cold and cutting.
But Kakashi didn't stop. "Does it bother you, Sasuke?" he asked softly. "Knowing he's ahead of you again?"
Sasuke's hands trembled faintly, the broken brush falling to the ground. He didn't look up, his eyes fixed on the dark ink pooling on the paper.
"I was supposed to be the genius," he muttered. "I was supposed to be the one destined for greatness. And yet, he just keeps… surpassing me. Like it's nothing."
"Is that why you're upset? Because Naruto's stronger than you? Or is it because you're afraid?"
"Afraid of what?"
"Of being left behind," Kakashi said simply.
Sasuke flinched, though he tried to hide it, his expression hardening into a mask of indifference.
"What would you know about it?" Sasuke bit out. "You don't understand. You don't know what it's like to lose everything. To have nothing left but the goal of avenging your family."
Kakashi sighed, closing his book and setting it aside. "You're right," he said. "I don't know what it's like to lose everything. I only know what it's like to lose everything. My father. My sensei. My friends. My team."
Sasuke's glare faltered.
"But that's not the point, is it?" Kakashi continued. "It's not about what I've lost or what you've lost. It's about what you're doing with the pain. And right now, you're letting it consume you. You're letting it blind you to what you still have."
"I don't have anything," Sasuke spat. "Not really."
"Don't you?" Kakashi asked. "You have teammates who would fight and bleed for you without hesitation. You have people who want to see you grow stronger—not so they can compete with you, but because they care about you."
"They're just obstacles."
"No," Kakashi said firmly. "They're your greatest strengths. You just can't see it because you're too busy tearing yourself down every time they succeed. You see their progress, and instead of feeling proud, you feel threatened. And that's the real tragedy, Sasuke. Not your loss, not your pain—but the fact that you refuse to let yourself be happy."
Sasuke's throat tightened. He wanted to argue, to lash out, to deny everything Kakashi was saying. But the words wouldn't come.
"Revenge won't fill the void, Sasuke. I've seen what it does to people. It doesn't heal. It doesn't bring peace. It just leaves you emptier than before."
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
"Stop chasing shadows," Kakashi said. "Stop measuring yourself against Naruto and Sakura. Stop carrying this weight on your own." He paused. "You're not alone, Sasuke. You don't have to be. And the people you've lost? They wouldn't want this for you. They wouldn't want you to destroy yourself trying to live up to something they never asked for."
The words hit harder than Sasuke wanted to admit. He looked down, his bangs hiding his eyes.
Kakashi stepped back, giving him space. "Think about it, Sasuke," he said. "About what you want—and about what it's costing you."
He turned and walked away, leaving Sasuke alone with the broken brush, the unfinished painting, and the storm raging in his mind.
Sasuke stared at the shattered pieces in his hand, his thoughts a tangled mess of anger, frustration, and something else he couldn't name. He hated Kakashi for saying those things. But more than that, he hated the part of himself that couldn't ignore them.
"What do you want, Sasuke?" Kakashi's voice echoed in his mind.
Sasuke closed his eyes, his grip tightening on the broken brush. I don't know.
----------------------------------------
Tenten ran harder, her feet pounding against the dirt path as if she could outrun her thoughts. The crisp morning air filled her lungs, but it did nothing to clear the frustration boiling inside her. She thought she was past this. After everything she'd been through—the years of training, the sacrifices, the growth—she thought she'd accepted her path.
But Naruto's words kept echoing in her mind.
"You could be more than just a weapons specialist."
Tenten clenched her fists mid-stride, feeling the heat rise to her face as if she'd been scolded. She had given up on medical ninjutsu for a reason—she didn't have the talent, didn't have the flawless chakra control required. It wasn't her fault, was it? She'd tried. She'd failed. That was it.
But then her mind betrayed her, dragging up thoughts of Lee. Rock Lee, who had started with nothing. Who had no talent for ninjutsu or genjutsu. Who had worked so relentlessly that his hard work became his talent.
Why couldn't she do that? Why couldn't she have worked harder? If Lee could take his weaknesses and turn them into strengths, why couldn't she have done the same?
For a fleeting moment, the words she never wanted to admit surfaced in her mind.
I settled.
Her breath hitched, and she slowed her pace, the sound of running water pulling her from her thoughts. She had reached her home: the blacksmith's shop.
The Higurashi Blacksmith Shop wasn't like the traditional buildings in Konoha. It stood out in a way that was both rustic and charming—a multi-story watermill house constructed from aged stone and timber. Ivy climbed the weathered walls, and balconies jutted out from various levels, each cluttered with tools, hanging pots, and the occasional drying herbs.
The massive waterwheel turned steadily in the river's current, its rhythmic creaking blending with the sounds of the forge within. Smoke curled from the stone chimney, carrying the familiar scent of coal and heated metal. The building was warm, industrious, and full of life—just like the man who ran it.
Tenten shook her head at the sight. Her father had once joked that he named the shop the Higurashi Blacksmith Shop because he didn't have time for anything more creative. She was certain a five-year-old could have come up with something better.
Her father, Higurashi Hiten, was a man of contradictions: equal parts war veteran and tinkering genius. Injured on the front lines during the battle for Kannabi Bridge, he'd survived thanks to none other than Minato Namikaze himself. The Earth Release jutsu that had crushed his left leg left him unable to return to the field, but in his recovery, he had found a new calling.
Hiten had been so fascinated by the engineering of his prosthetic leg that he apprenticed himself to the blacksmith who made it and rebuilt his life—literally and figuratively. Now, as a master craftsman, he was the go-to for shinobi who wanted the highest-quality weapons and tools.
Tenten was about to head inside when the sound of voices caught her attention. She froze, frowning.
One of them was unmistakably Naruto.
Stepping into the shop, Tenten stopped in her tracks.
There, standing at the counter, was Naruto, chatting animatedly with her father. Hiten had Naruto's helmet in his hands, turning it over like a child marveling at a shiny new toy.
"So, can you fix my armor set?" Naruto asked, his tone hopeful.
Hiten laughed, his prosthetic leg making a soft clink as he shifted his weight. "Do I look like a miracle worker to you, kid?"
Tenten frowned at the comment, her lips pressing into a thin line. Why was her father downplaying his skills like that? If anyone could repair armor, it was him.
"You can't fix it?"
Hiten let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Fix it? This thing is way above my level. Just look at it! The amount of refined pure metal used in this helmet alone is more than I've worked with in my entire shop."
Naruto blinked, confused. "Uh… isn't that just normal metal?"
Hiten let out a hearty laugh, setting the helmet down carefully. "Kid, refined metal like this is very rare in Konoha. Most shinobi gear is made with iron sand that's had the impurities burned out. It's good, but it's not this. The only place with enough ore to make something like your armor is the Land of Iron." He gestured toward the helmet with reverence. "This isn't just armor—it's art."
Naruto scratched the back of his head, looking both impressed and disappointed. "Huh… so you really can't fix it?"
Hiten sighed, giving Naruto a sympathetic shrug. "I'm afraid not, kid. But I'll tell you this much—whoever made this armor? They're a genius."
It was then that Hiten and Naruto noticed Tenten standing in the doorway.
A wide grin spread across Hiten's face, his eyes lighting up. "Ah, my beautiful daughter is here!" he exclaimed proudly, his voice warm. "I was just talking to your interesting friend."
Tenten's face immediately darkened, her arms crossing over her chest. "He's not my friend," she snapped.
The air grew awkward as silence fell over the room.
"Ouch. Don't hold back or anything, Tenten. Tell me how you really feel."
Tenten glared at Naruto for acting like nothing had happened between them, but her father cut in with a chuckle. "Now, now, don't be like that," Hiten said, his prosthetic leg clinking softly as he stepped closer. "The boy's got good taste in armor, if nothing else. And he's got manners. Better than some of the shinobi who come in here barking orders."
"See? Your dad gets it!"
"What do you want?"
Naruto paused, his usual grin nowhere to be seen. "I came for the spar. Swordsman to swordswoman… right?"
"Fine. Let's take this outside."
Her tone carried an edge, cold and unyielding, and it was clear from the way she turned on her heel that she didn't intend to treat this as a simple sparring match.
From the doorway, Higurashi Hiten frowned as he watched them step out into the open yard. Something about the way his daughter carried herself, the way her frustration simmered just beneath the surface, made him uneasy.
The morning air was crisp, and the light from the rising sun spilled across the yard, painting the dew-soaked grass in shades of gold. To the right stood Naruto, his Zweihander resting casually on his shoulder. He looked relaxed, almost carefree, yet there was a quiet intensity in his gaze. To the left, Tenten adjusted the katana on her hip, her stance low and ready, the steel gleaming in the soft light. A few meters of space stretched between them, framed by the backdrop of trees swaying gently in the morning breeze. To the side, a river ran steadily, its surface catching the sunlight and reflecting flashes of gold and silver.
The sun hung low, its light creeping over the horizon, casting long shadows that danced between the two figures. The faint rustle of leaves and the murmur of the river were the only sounds—the calm before the inevitable clash.
From the porch, Higurashi Hiten leaned on the railing, watching the two with a mix of pride and anticipation. His eyes darted to Naruto's massive Zweihander, and he couldn't help but let out a small, delighted chuckle. "What a… sword," he murmured to himself, unable to hide his admiration.
"I see you haven't been practicing what I taught you."
"Your teachings worked for the katana," Naruto replied. "But I can't fight the same way with a greatsword."
Hiten chimed in, "He's right, Tenten. That sword wasn't designed for finesse like a katana. A weapon like that relies on its weight and momentum to do the work, not the user's strength or precision."
Tenten's grip on her katana tightened, her jaw clenching at her father's comment. She could feel the sting of embarrassment creeping in, amplified by Naruto's calm demeanor. He wasn't mocking her, but the fact that he didn't rise to her bait only made her more frustrated.
Silence stretched between them, heavy and tense.
Hiten's sharp eyes flicked between the two. His years as a shinobi and blacksmith told him everything he needed to know. "This won't last long," he muttered under his breath. "It'll end in one strike."
As the sun crept higher, its light caught the surface of the river, creating a dazzling flash that masked Tenten for a split second. She moved in that moment, her body a blur of speed as she struck with a textbook Iai technique—a lightning-fast draw-and-strike maneuver.
But Naruto was ready.
With a surge of power, he brought the Zweihander down in a monstrous arc. The sheer weight and range of the greatsword made up for his slower speed, and its blade met Tenten's katana with an earth-shaking clang.
The katana didn't stand a chance.
With a deafening crack, the thinner blade shattered on impact, shards of steel scattering into the air like glimmering fragments of a broken dream. The force of the collision unleashed a blast of air that rippled outward, kicking up leaves and dust in a swirling vortex.
When the dust settled, the Zweihander's edge was poised mere centimeters from Tenten's shoulder, its monstrous weight held still.
"It's over," Hiten said softly from the porch.
Tenten stood frozen, staring blankly at the broken hilt in her hands. The shattered katana blade lay scattered at her feet, reflecting the morning light in cruel fragments as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. Days ago, she had stood before Naruto as a teacher, guiding him patiently through the fundamentals of kenjutsu. She had taught him everything—how to hold a blade, how to position his body, how to read his opponent's movements. She had expected it to take weeks, months even, for him to grasp the basics, let alone this.
It had taken him two days to refine the basics into an actual style.
Two days to not just match her, but to surpass her.
The weight of the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Years of her life—years spent sweating in the heat of the forge, training until her muscles burned and her hands bled, pushing herself to master every technique she could find—had been eclipsed. Not by someone who shared her obsession, her passion, her dedication. No, it had been Naruto, a boy who only days ago couldn't tell a proper grip from a chokehold.
The katana had been her pride, her identity. Its shattering felt symbolic, as if the universe itself had declared her efforts meaningless.
Tenten's mind whirled with doubts she thought she'd buried. What was the point of all that work? Of all those years? She had fought so hard to carve out a place for herself, to prove she could be as skilled, as valuable, as anyone else. And now, standing there with nothing but a broken hilt in her hands, she felt small. Inadequate.
The bitterness was sharp, a familiar voice whispering in the back of her mind. You're just a weapons specialist. Not Tsunade. Not someone extraordinary. Just someone mediocre.
"No!" Tenten shouted, her body trembling as she scrambled to her feet. "I'm not done yet!"
Her hands flew into a flurry of seals.
"Ninja Art: Rising Twin Dragons!"
The scrolls shot into the air, spinning in perfect unison. Smoke coiled around them, shaping into twin serpentine forms that roared into the sky. When the smoke cleared, Tenten leapt into the space between the scrolls, her hands moving like blinding lightning. Kunai, shuriken, spears, and blades poured down on Naruto in an unrelenting storm. The sheer precision of her strikes was breathtaking—each weapon aimed to corner him, overwhelm him, crush him under the weight of her skill.
From above, Tenten saw her weapons completely encase Naruto, forming a dense sphere of steel that left no room to breathe. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel satisfaction. She had him.
But then, a piercing light burst through the sphere, and in an instant, her weapons were blasted away by a shockwave. They clattered to the ground like scattered leaves.
Her ultimate attack was just destroyed by a single jutsu.
She landed softly, her boots crunching against the earth now littered with her weapons.
Naruto took a step forward, and instinctively, Tenten took a step back. Her heel caught on something, and she stumbled, falling onto her back.
"Stay back!"
Naruto stopped mid-step, his face softening as he raised his hands in a calming gesture.
"I said, stay back!"
Her hand darted to the nearest weapon—a kunai—and she hurled it with all her strength. It struck Naruto's chest plate and bounced off harmlessly. She reached for another, but her hands found only dirt.
And then he was standing over her.
Tenten's breath hitched as she squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. Her lips quivered as the frustration, the anger, and the humiliation boiled over.
"Okay, you win!" she shouted. "You proved your point!"
Her tears dripped onto the dirt below as she sniffed, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm not even a weapon specialist. I'm just… a loser. I get it, okay? Just say it. Say what you're thinking!"
Naruto didn't say anything.
"Say something! Gloat!" she screamed, her voice strained with desperation.
But instead of words, Naruto knelt down in front of her. Slowly, he removed his gauntlet, setting it aside before reaching out. His hand was warm, calloused but gentle, as he brushed away a tear on her cheek. Tenten's eyes opened, and for the first time, she saw his face.
He wasn't smug. He wasn't triumphant. There was no pride in his expression—only shame.
"That was an amazing spar."
Tenten froze, her breath catching in her throat. "I lost," she whispered.
"Does winning mean everything?" Naruto asked. "This wasn't about winning. It's a spar between friends, right? Aren't we supposed to help each other get stronger?"
Tenten's lips twisted bitterly. "Friends don't humiliate each other," she muttered.
"You're right. They don't."
Her eyes snapped to his, her anger flaring again. "Then what about all of this? How is this not humiliating? You said I'm just a weapon specialist. Then you come here, to my home, in front of my father, and you—" Her voice broke. "You defeat me. You completely humiliate me."
Naruto was silent for a moment, his head bowed. Then, quietly, he spoke.
"Four thousand."
Tenten blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"It took me four thousand shadow clones," Naruto said. "Four thousand clones, sparring over and over, taking hit after hit, making mistake after mistake. And yeah, it hurt. A lot. I can still feel every single failure." He looked at her with a small, tired smile. "But you know why I could do that? Because of the basics you taught me. You didn't just teach me how to swing a sword—you taught me how to fight."
Tenten stared at him, her mind racing, her lips trembling. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I'm sorry."
That stopped her cold.
"I'm sorry if I hurt you," he continued, his eyes earnest. "I'm not good with words. I say stupid things, and people take them the wrong way. What I meant wasn't that you're just a weapon specialist. What I meant was… being a weapon specialist is amazing. And I thought maybe… I could help you. I thought you could be both—an incredible weapon specialist and a medical ninja. But instead of helping, I just hurt you. And I'm sorry."
Tenten's heart twisted painfully in her chest as the weight of his words sank in. She looked down, shame blooming hot and sharp as she replayed everything in her mind—the misunderstanding, the anger, the bitterness. It all felt so foolish now.
I'm such an idiot…
"Huh?"
"I blew this completely out of proportion," she admitted, lying back on the dirt road with a heavy sigh. Her gaze turned skyward as the sun climbed higher, the light warm on her face. "I jumped to conclusions. I got mad over something I didn't even understand. I've been so… dumb."
Naruto blinked, scratching the back of his head. "You're not dumb. You're, like… really smart. And scary."
"Gee, thanks," she muttered dryly, though a small, reluctant smile tugged at her lips.
Naruto shifted closer, sitting cross-legged beside her. "You okay, senpai?"
Tenten let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. "I'll be fine. I just… need a minute to process how ridiculous I've been." She turned her head slightly to look at him. "And for the record, I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have assumed the worst about you."
Naruto grinned, his boyish energy returning. "Hey, don't sweat it! We're still cool, right?"
Tenten looked at him for a moment before closing her eyes with a sigh. "Yeah. We're still cool, maggot."
Naruto laughed, the sound light and genuine, and for the first time that morning, Tenten felt the weight on her chest begin to lift.
The silence between them lingered for a moment, the kind that allowed thoughts to settle and emotions to breathe. Tenten broke it first.
"Naruto," she began. "Do you think I chose the right path?"
Naruto hummed, not rushing to answer.
"What if I had done something different?" Tenten continued. "What if I'd become a medical ninja? What if I didn't… settle for being a weapon specialist?"
"Was it easy to become a weapon specialist?"
Tenten blinked, caught off guard. "Easy? Hell no." She let out a bitter laugh. "I couldn't even tell you how many nights I cried myself to sleep because of how hard it was. But… I still did it."
"Then how is that settling?"
"What do you mean?"
"If you worked so hard for something—something most people couldn't even imagine doing—how is that settling?" Naruto asked. "That doesn't sound like settling to me. That sounds like making your own path."
The words hit Tenten like a bolt of lightning. Her eyes widened as something inside her clicked.
A laugh bubbled up from her chest—soft at first, then louder, until it mingled with the tears streaming down her cheeks. She cried and laughed, the release of years of frustration and self-doubt flooding out all at once.
She finally understood.
Lee had turned his hard work into talent, but so had she. She had been so blinded by Tsunade's shadow, so fixated on what the legendary kunoichi represented, that she hadn't realized her real goal. It wasn't to be Tsunade Senju. No, it was to represent what Tsunade stood for—an idol, an inspiration for young kunoichi to look up to.
"Naruto," she said softly, wiping her eyes as she reached out her hand. He took it, pulling her to her feet.
"Thank you," she said sincerely. "I needed that."
"What, to get beat up by me?"
Tenten rolled her eyes, giving him a playful smack on the cheek. "Don't push it."
They started walking back toward the shop, where her father was waiting.
"Sorry for making a scene, Dad," Tenten said sheepishly. "I'll clean this place up later."
Hiten waved her off, his smile smug and warm. "No worries. I'm just glad you worked things out with your boyfriend."
Tenten froze mid-step, her face turning bright red.
"He's not my boyfriend!" she shouted, her voice shrill with indignation.
Naruto, meanwhile, looked slightly hurt. "Wait… I'm not your friend?"
"No!" Tenten exclaimed quickly, flustered. "You are my friend! You're not my boyfriend."
"Wait… does that mean I'm a girl?"
Hiten burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the shop as Tenten slapped her forehead in exasperation.
"No, Naruto!" she groaned, glaring at her father, who was practically doubled over with laughter.
"Then what's a boyfriend?"
Tenten sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before launching into a rushed explanation.
"Ohhh," Naruto said after a moment, his face reddening. He turned to Hiten, shaking his head vigorously. "Mr. Higurashi, Tenten and I are just friends. I swear!"
"Just friends, huh?" Tenten muttered under her breath, a little disappointed by how quickly he said it. But her father caught it, giving her a smug, knowing smile that only made her blush harder.
"Tenten!" Naruto called, oblivious to her embarrassment.
She turned to him, grateful for the distraction—until she froze.
In Naruto's hands was a gleaming set of chainmail.
"Remember how I said I'd bring you an armor set?" Naruto said, holding it out to her. "Here."
Tenten blinked, her heart skipping a beat. "Naruto, I… I don't even know what to say."
"Try it on," Naruto said with a grin. "You can't go around calling yourself a badass swordswoman without some awesome armor, right?"
Tenten nodded, her face warm as she practically snatched the armor from his hands and disappeared into the shop.
"So… what do you think?"
Hiten smiled, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Naruto, if you include more armor and weapons in the dowry, you've got my blessings."
"What?"
Hiten burst out laughing again, his prosthetic leg clinking against the floor as he doubled over.
"DAD!" Tenten's voice rang out from the shop.
A few moments later, the metallic clink of chainmail filled the air as Tenten stepped outside. The armor fit her perfectly, the interlocking rings gleaming in the sunlight. She looked down at herself, brushing her hands over the craftsmanship.
"It's amazing," she said softly, her cheeks pink.
"Amazing enough for a spar?"
Tenten looked up, startled.
"Don't think I have forgotten, senpai. This time, it's my turn to teach you."
Tenten blinked, caught off guard by his sincerity. She felt her face flush again but managed a small smile. "It's my honor, Naruto-sensei."
They both giggled at the playful exchange, the tension between them finally gone.
Hiten, however, wasn't done. "Naruto," he called out. "If you keep this up, I'll have to start preparing for the wedding."
"DAD!" Tenten shouted, her face bright red as she whirled on him.
Naruto, meanwhile, stood frozen, his face a mix of confusion and horror. "Wait, what?!"
"It's a joke, Naruto," Tenten muttered, her palm slapping against her forehead.
"Oh…" Naruto said, his face reddening. Then, after a beat, "Wait, why is that a joke?"
Hiten roared with laughter as Tenten groaned, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation.
"Because you're impossible, that's why!" she huffed, stomping back toward the shop.
Naruto scratched his head, muttering to himself. "I don't get it…"
"Don't worry, kid," Hiten said, clapping him on the back. "You'll figure it out one day. Hopefully before my grandkids arrive."
"WHAT?!" Naruto yelped as Tenten's voice echoed from inside the shop.
"DAD!"