The streets of Konoha were bathed in soft moonlight, quiet and almost magical. The usual hustle and chatter of the day had given way to a peaceful stillness, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the faint whisper of a passing breeze. A few shinobi moved through the shadows, silent as ghosts, their forms blending seamlessly with the night. Some of them glanced at Naruto as he walked by, their eyes lingering for a moment on his armour, but no one said a word.

Naruto sighed as he trudged along. Normally, the quiet felt lonely, like the world was reminding him of all the things he didn't have. But tonight… tonight felt different. The stillness wrapped around him like a blanket, soothing in a way he didn't quite understand.

Why is this so… nice? he thought, letting his steps slow as he looked up at the moon. He allowed himself a rare moment to enjoy the peace as he made his way home.

It didn't last.

As Naruto approached his front door, he froze. Lying on the ground, curled up like a cat, was Konohamaru. The kid was sound asleep, drooling on a worn camo blanket he'd been using as a pillow. The blanket itself looked like shinobi gear, the kind that worked with the Transformation Jutsu to create a camouflage illusion. It was impressive for someone so young, but the fact that Konohamaru had chosen his doorstep to camp out on was less impressive.

Naruto sighed, scratching his head. "What's this little brat doing here?" he muttered to himself, tiptoeing toward his door. He carefully reached for the handle, trying not to wake the kid up. But the door, as always, had other plans.

Creeeeeaaak.

"Boss!" Konohamaru's voice cut through the silence like a kunai, startling Naruto mid-step.

Naruto turned, giving the kid a flat look. "What are you doing here, you little runt?"

Konohamaru shot up, his face lighting up like a firecracker. "Boss! You have to teach me how to become Hokage! Please, please, please!" He clasped his hands together in front of him, his eyes wide and sparkling with the kind of desperation only a little kid could pull off.

Naruto groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Hokage? Seriously? You're gonna pick my house to whine about this at midnight?" Without another word, he opened the door and slammed it behind him, shutting out Konohamaru's excited pleas.

Inside, Naruto muttered to himself as he made his way to the bathroom. "Hokage. This kid…" He turned on the shower, letting the hot water rush over him, washing away the sweat and grime of the day. The soothing heat worked wonders for his muscles, but the moment of peace didn't last.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

"Boss!" Konohamaru's voice rang out, muffled but persistent.

Naruto gritted his teeth, grabbing a handful of soap as the banging continued in rhythm. If he keeps this up, I'm gonna fireball his scrawny butt into next week, he thought, scrubbing with more force than necessary.

By the time he got out of the shower, the banging was still going strong. Towel wrapped around his waist, Naruto stomped into the kitchen, ignoring the noise as he set a pot of water to boil for some instant ramen. He cracked an egg into a pan, trying to focus on anything other than the incessant knocking.

"Boss!" Konohamaru's voice was more high-pitched now, his persistence nothing short of impressive.

"Shut up!" Naruto yelled, slamming his hands on the counter. For a brief moment, the banging stopped. Naruto sighed, relieved—until he smelled something burning.

"Damn it!" He turned back to the stove and flipped the egg, revealing a blackened, crispy bottom. He stared at it for a moment before muttering, "Perfect. Just perfect."

Then, right on cue: Bang. Bang. Bang.

Naruto's patience snapped. Slamming the pan down on the counter, he stormed toward the door, yanking it open with enough force to rattle the hinges. "What?!" he bellowed, glaring down at Konohamaru.

The kid looked up at him with big, innocent eyes, completely unbothered by Naruto's outburst. "Train me!" he said again, this time with a grin so wide it was almost blinding.

Naruto stared at him for a moment, utterly dumbfounded. Then he slammed the door shut in his face. "Nope," he muttered. "Not in the mood to beat up a six-year-old right now."

He turned back toward the kitchen, only to catch another whiff of burning. "Oh, come on!" He rushed to the stove, but his egg was already ruined, charred to an unrecognizable crisp. He sighed, scraping the burnt mess into the trash.

"Alright," he muttered to himself, "now I am in the mood to beat up a six-year-old."

Naruto stomped back to the door and flung it open again, this time with a mischievous grin on his face. "You want me to train you?" he asked, crossing his arms.

Konohamaru's eyes lit up as he nodded eagerly. "Yeah! Please, boss! Please!"

"Great," Naruto said, cracking his knuckles. "Dodge."

"Wait, wha—"

Before Konohamaru could finish, Naruto's fist flew toward him. It wasn't hard enough to seriously hurt, but it was enough to send the kid sprawling onto the ground with a loud thud. Konohamaru lay there, dazed, his eyes wide with shock before they fluttered shut. He was out cold.

Naruto stood over him, shaking out his hand. "That felt… surprisingly good." He let out a smug chuckle, but the realization hit him a moment later. Wait. Did I just knock out a six-year-old?

His eyes darted around the street, panic creeping in. "Oh, crap. If anyone saw that…" His brain raced for a solution. What if I dumped him near a dumpster? Yeah, perfect! He'll look like he passed out there after getting into trouble. Totally believable.

Then a cold breeze hit him, and he realized he was still in just a towel. "Ugh, great," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. Resigning himself, Naruto grabbed Konohamaru by the leg and dragged him inside.

"Can't believe I'm doing this," he grumbled, shutting the door behind him. The quiet of the night returned, leaving only the faint sound of Naruto muttering curses under his breath.

A few minutes later, Naruto stood in his small kitchen, stirring the ramen he'd finally managed to cook. He cracked an egg into the steaming broth and gently whisked it in, watching as the ribbons of yellow swirled through the soup. At the counter, Konohamaru sat on a stool, two tissues stuffed into his nose to stem the bleeding. His legs swung back and forth as he watched Naruto work, his wide eyes filled with fascination, as if Naruto were performing some kind of ancient shinobi ritual.

Naruto gave him a sideways glance. "See, the trick is to add the egg while the broth's still hot," he said, trying to sound sage-like. "The heat cooks it just right, makes it all fluffy, and gives the soup more richness. It's simple, but this is sacred ramen knowledge."

Konohamaru nodded solemnly, as if Naruto had just handed him the meaning of life. "Sacred ramen knowledge… Got it, Boss."

Naruto smirked as he poured the finished ramen into two bowls. Steam rose, carrying the comforting aroma of savory broth and egg. He slid one bowl toward Konohamaru, handing him a spoon. "Alright, kid, dig in."

Konohamaru didn't hesitate, scooping up a bite and stuffing it into his mouth. His eyes widened in pure delight as he chewed. "This is amazing, Boss! First, you tested my speed, and now you're teaching me the secret art of ramen-making!"

Naruto chuckled, sitting down on the other side of the counter with his own bowl. He felt a little burst of pride—he didn't get called awesome often, and hearing it from Konohamaru wasn't so bad. As the boy took another eager bite, Naruto leaned back slightly and asked, "So, why'd you want to learn from me?"

Konohamaru paused, his spoon hovering over the bowl. His face grew serious, and he stared down at the swirling broth. "Well… you're the first person who's ever treated me like me," he said quietly.

Naruto frowned. "What do you mean?"

Konohamaru set his spoon down, his small hands clenching into fists. "My grandpa gave me the name Konohamaru—after the village. Everyone knows my name, but when they talk about me, all they see is the Hokage's grandson. No one ever sees me. They bow, they smile, but it's all fake. I'm sick of it! That's why I want to be Hokage, so they'll see me for who I really am."

Naruto sat back, letting the boy's words sink in. He didn't say anything right away, just stared at his ramen. That hit a little too close to home. Naruto knew what it was like to want recognition, to want people to see him, not some version of him they made up in their heads.

The quiet stretched between them, the only sound the soft clinking of their spoons against the bowls. Naruto opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, his front door slammed open.

"YOUNG MASTER!" Ebisu stormed in, his glasses slightly askew, his usually prim demeanor looking thoroughly ruffled. "I've been looking for you for hours! The entire Sarutobi clan is worried sick!"

Naruto blinked in confusion, setting his spoon down. "Uh, ever heard of knocking?"

"Don't interrupt me!" Ebisu snapped, adjusting his glasses as he turned his sharp glare on Konohamaru. "Honorable grandson, let's go. You've wasted enough time here. Stop this foolishness and return to the clan."

Konohamaru shot up from his stool, his fists clenched. "No! I'm not going back until I'm strong enough to defeat Grandpa and become Hokage! And Boss is teaching me how!"

Ebisu groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was dealing with an unruly toddler. "Honorable grandson—"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" Konohamaru shouted, his voice cracking with frustration. "I'm not just 'honorable grandson.' I'm Konohamaru!"

Naruto watched the boy tremble with anger, and something inside him shifted. Placing a hand on Konohamaru's shoulder, he gave him a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, let me handle this," he said softly.

Konohamaru looked up at him, hesitating for a moment before nodding and stepping back. Naruto stood, turning to face Ebisu, his expression calm.

Ebisu scoffed, his nose wrinkling as he regarded Naruto with disdain. "And what are you going to do, deadlast? You're nothing but a fool playing ninja. I'm far more skilled than the likes of you."

Naruto's eye twitched, his hand curling into a fist. Who does this guy think he is? But instead of getting mad, he let out a slow breath, an idea forming in his head.

He took a step forward, his expression unreadable. "Oh, ho, you're approaching me?" Ebisu sneered, crossing his arms.

"I can't kick your ass unless I come closer," Naruto replied, taking another step. His voice was calm, almost casual, but his words dripped with challenge.

Ebisu's smirk widened. "You're welcome to try, demon brat. But don't think for a second you stand a chance."

"Teach him, Boss!"

Ebisu's scoff turned into a chuckle, his tone mocking. "Teach me? Teach me what?"

Naruto cracked his knuckles, a grin spreading across his face. "Lesson one: Don't underestimate your enemy."

The light of the miracle glowed white-hot around Naruto's knuckles, the energy humming faintly in the still night. Ebisu's smirk didn't last long—before he could even react a shockwave that struck him square in the chest. The impact was instantaneous. Ebisu was launched clear out the door, his body hurtling through the air like a ragdoll.

"W-Whoa… Boss!"

Outside, Ebisu groaned, staggering to his feet. His glasses were askew, and his usually neat appearance was now completely disheveled. He clutched his stomach, wobbling as he tried to steady himself. Naruto wasn't about to give him the chance. In an instant, he equipped his armor, the pieces forming around him with a low, resonant clink. The weight of it felt natural now, as though it had always been part of him. Without hesitation, he disappeared in a blur of speed, the Shunshin no Jutsu propelling him Ebisu could even register the movement, Naruto closed the distance. His knee shot up in a swift, brutal arc, slamming into Ebisu's jaw with bone-crunching force. The sound echoed in the night—a sickening crack that made Konohamaru flinch.

Ebisu's body flew backward, slamming into the metal railings outside with a deafening clang. The railings bent under the force, creaking ominously as his body toppled over the edge.

"Don't worry," naruto said casually. "There's a dumpster down there. It'll break his fall."

A dull thud echoed up a second later. Naruto winced. "Or… the concrete."

Konohamaru looked up at him, stunned, before breaking into a wide grin. "That. Was. AWESOME!"

"Eh, he had it coming."

"Alright, kid, lesson two: never let a jerk like that boss you around. Got it?"

"Got it, Boss!"

The boy's excitement seemed boundless, and he practically bounced as he followed Naruto into the living room. "You were awesome, Boss! Can you teach me how to do that? That jutsu was insane!"

"You're not ready for that yet, brat. Why don't we focus on getting you home first? It's way past your bedtime."

Konohamaru paused, his grin fading slightly as he looked guilty. Naruto followed his gaze to the counter and froze. The ramen bowls they had just eaten from were now completely empty, and one of them looked like it had been licked clean.

"I needed something to eat while you fought," Konohamaru giggled nervously, letting out a tiny burp.

Naruto's eye twitched. "This kid…" He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. But before he could finish exhaling, an idea struck him. "I think…" he began, reaching for his inventory, "you need to run."

"Run?"

With a low hum, Naruto summoned his Zweihander, the massive blade materializing in his hands with a heavy thud against the floor. The room almost seemed to darken under its sheer weight and presence as Naruto pointed the blade at Konohamaru.

"Run!" Naruto roared, his grin widening into something that was far too gleeful.

Konohamaru's eyes went wide. "I'm sorry, Boss!" he yelped, spinning on his heel and bolting out the door.

Naruto chased after him, the Zweihander over his shoulder, his laughter echoing through the quiet streets. "Come back! I just want to talk!"

"I said I'm sorry!" Konohamaru's voice trailed off as he sprinted away, his little feet slapping against the cobblestone streets.

Eventually, after several blocks of chasing, Naruto caught up to the boy and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of rice. Konohamaru didn't even struggle; he just clung to Naruto's back, laughing between gasps for air as Naruto walked them toward the Sarutobi clan house. The moonlight illuminated the streets, and the gentle hum of the village at night filled the space between them.

After a while, Konohamaru's giggles faded, replaced by a thoughtful quiet. His small arms wrapped around Naruto's neck as he adjusted his position. "Boss… what's your dream?"

Naruto paused for a moment, pretending to focus on his steps. He didn't want to talk about it, but Konohamaru wasn't the type to let things go.

"I heard people say your dream was to become the greatest Hokage," Konohamaru pressed.

Naruto exhaled slowly. "Yeah," he muttered, keeping his voice low. He didn't feel like explaining himself.

"Well, sorry, Boss," Konohamaru said, his proud tone returning. "But I'm gonna be the greatest Hokage. You're just gonna have to settle for second place."

Naruto huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "It's not that easy, dumbass. The title of Hokage isn't something you just decide to take. It's something you earn. Everyone has to acknowledge you first. Do you think that's easy?" His voice softened as he added, "I've had a hard enough time just getting one person to acknowledge me."

"So, what do I do?"

Naruto adjusted his grip on the boy and kept walking. "Prepare yourself. There aren't any shortcuts to becoming Hokage."

The boy went quiet, chewing on Naruto's words, until the grand Sarutobi clan gates came into view. The carved wooden doors stood tall and imposing, intricate symbols lining their edges. Two guards stood on either side, their expressions neutral. They nodded politely as Naruto approached, but both raised their eyebrows when they saw Konohamaru perched on his back.

Standing in front of the gates, arms crossed and looking more tired than usual, was Hiruzen Sarutobi himself.

"Konohamaru," the Third Hokage said, "do you even know what time it is, young man?"

Konohamaru slid off Naruto's back, standing sheepishly in front of his grandfather. "Sorry, Gramps. I was hanging out with Boss so he could teach me how to beat you."

Naruto winced, giving the Hokage an awkward salute. "Uh… he's not wrong."

Hiruzen raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. "I see." He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "This will be the last time I overlook this sort of mischief, Konohamaru. Tomorrow is your first day at the academy, and you need to rest."

"Tomorrow's also my first step to becoming Hokage!"

Hiruzen chuckled softly, shaking his head. "We'll see about that." He turned to Naruto. "Thank you for bringing him home, Naruto-kun. I hope Ebisu didn't trouble you too much."

Naruto smirked, biting back a laugh. "Nah, that guy's fine. Probably just… lying low right now."

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"Lying low" was one way to describe it. Ebisu was unceremoniously hurled into a dumpster by one of Naruto's clones, landing with a crash that sent the lid clanging shut above him. Inside the rank, dark space, he groaned, shoving a banana peel off his head, only for a half-eaten apple core to plop onto his shoulder. His glasses were cracked, one lens dangling uselessly, and his normally pristine outfit was smeared with something he hoped was just dirt.

Ebisu sat up slowly, glaring at the walls of the dumpster like it had personally insulted him. "Damn brat," he muttered weakly, trying to summon whatever dignity he had left—just as the dumpster's lid creaked open, and a stray cat peered down at him, its eyes glowing eerily in the moonlight.

The cat let out a judgmental mrrrow, then leaped in, landing squarely on his face.

"GAH!" Ebisu yelped, flailing as the cat bolted, knocking over a bag of garbage that promptly spilled onto his lap. A carton of spoiled milk popped open, drenching him as he slumped back against the dumpster wall, utterly defeated.

"One day," he wheezed, peeling a wet noodle off his cheek, "one day I will have my revenge…"

From the alley, Naruto's clone peeked over the rim of the dumpster, snickering. "You good in there, or should I find a second dumpster for backup?"

Ebisu let out a strangled groan, raising one trembling fist. "Damn… brat…" he muttered before slumping fully into the trash pile, his pride officially dead.

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Back at the compound, Hiruzen gave Naruto a puzzled look but let it go. "Good night, Naruto-kun. Konohamaru, inside. Now."

"But—" Konohamaru yawned halfway through his protest, his defiance fading as his eyes began to droop.

"Go to bed, dumbass," Naruto said, nudging him gently toward the door.

Konohamaru looked up, scrunching his nose. "Blah, stop acting like you know everything, Boss…" His voice slurred as he rubbed his eyes. "I'm not letting you be my boss anymore…"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!" Konohamaru blinked sleepily but still managed to grin. "From now on… we're rivals!"

Naruto's smirk softened into a smile. He reached into his pocket, palming his green goggles from his inventory. Without drawing attention, he handed them to Konohamaru.

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"These are my favorite goggles," he said as the boy's eyes widened. "When the day comes that we're fighting for the Hokage title, I want them back."

Konohamaru's face lit up as he slipped off his helmet and put the goggles on. "Then you'll have to win them back, Boss!"

Naruto laughed, holding out his fist. "Looking forward to it, Konohamaru."

The boy bumped his fist against Naruto's before turning and running inside, his laughter echoing behind him. Naruto stood there for a moment, watching him go.

Hiruzen's voice broke the quiet. "He looks up to you, you know."

Naruto nodded silently, his eyes drifting toward the moonlit village in the distance. The quiet between him and the old man stretched, heavy and awkward, like a weight neither wanted to lift. He shifted his feet, ready to leave, but Hiruzen's voice stopped him.

"Wait, Naruto."

Naruto froze, his body stiffening. "What do you want?"

Hiruzen stepped forward, his robes shifting slightly in the breeze. Without the Hokage's hat, he looked different—less like the leader of the village, and more like an old man weighed down by years of regret.

"I need to talk to you about something," Hiruzen said. He gestured toward the wooden bench near the compound's entrance. "Would you mind sitting for a moment?"

Naruto didn't move. "I'm fine standing," he said curtly, his voice colder than usual.

Hiruzen didn't push the matter at first, letting the silence settle between them. "It's about what happened with Kiba," he said. "I heard you… almost killed him."

Naruto's face remained impassive, like Hiruzen had just told him the sky was blue or that water was wet. There wasn't a flicker of guilt, worry, or even surprise in his expression.

"Naruto, this is serious. You nearly killed a fellow shinobi of the Leaf—in what was essentially a stupid fight. Do you understand the gravity of that?"

"That wasn't just some stupid fight," Naruto said, his voice low and simmering with anger. "Kiba disrespected someone important to me. Someone who taught me about honor and strength—things this village pretends to care about but doesn't actually live by. I wasn't going to let him get away with that."

Hiruzen studied him carefully. "While I understand that Kiba may have been out of line, Naruto, attacking and nearly killing him is inexcusable," he said. "Words can hurt, yes, but they don't justify violence. If you want to grow into a shinobi people can trust, you need to learn to control yourself. A true ninja doesn't let their emotions dictate their actions."

The words stung—not because they were wrong, but because they dismissed what had actually happened. This wasn't about anger. It wasn't even about Kiba. It was about respect. It was about Oscar.

"And who the hell are you to tell me any of this?"

The atmosphere shifted instantly. Hiruzen's gaze hardened, and for the first time that evening, he allowed the weight of his authority to press down on Naruto. The air felt heavier, suffocating, a stark reminder of who Hiruzen Sarutobi truly was—not just an old man, but the Hokage of the Hidden Leaf, the professor, the protector of the village.

"I am the Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village, Genin Naruto!"

For a moment, Naruto felt the weight of that title crash down on him, the enormity of it making him feel small. But the anger burning in his chest refused to be extinguished. He straightened, his voice steady but trembling with restrained frustration.

"So, is that it?" Naruto asked. "I have to take responsibility? I have to deal with it all? The child has to be the adult?"

The question cut deeper than Hiruzen expected. His jaw tightened, guilt flickering in his eyes. He opened his mouth to respond, but Naruto didn't give him the chance.

"I'm the one who has to 'control myself.' I'm the one who has to 'be fair and just.' I'm the one who has to suck it up and move on, while the rest of this village gets to throw their crap at me and pretend I don't exist. That's what being a ninja means, huh? Just keep taking it, over and over, because that's the Will of Fire?"

"Naruto, that's not what I meant…" Hiruzen's voice softened, his tone almost pleading as he took a step closer, raising a hand.

But Naruto didn't flinch. "Then how did you mean it, old man?" he asked, his voice quieter now but no less biting. "Because it sure sounds like you're telling me I have to carry everyone else's baggage while they get to treat me however they want. That I'm the one who's supposed to be better than them. That I'm supposed to act like a hero for a village that's never done anything for me."

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.

"You're right," Hiruzen said finally, his voice heavy with regret. "I wasn't there for you the way I should have been. And neither was this village. For that, Naruto, I am truly sorry."

Naruto flinched, his eyes widening slightly. He hadn't expected that—not the apology, not the raw sadness in the old man's voice. But it wasn't enough. It couldn't be enough.

"Sorry?" Naruto echoed bitterly. "That's it? You think 'sorry' makes up for everything? For the years I spent alone? For —" His throat tightened, and he couldn't finish the sentence.

"No, Naruto," Hiruzen said softly. "I know it doesn't make up for anything. I know I can't undo what's been done. But I want to do better. I want to help you find your place in this village."

Naruto's gaze dropped to the ground, his fists trembling as conflicting emotions swirled inside him. Anger, frustration, sadness—he didn't know which to hold on to, which to let go of.

"You still want to be Hokage, don't you?"

The question hung in the air, a quiet attempt to gauge just how deep the damage truly ran.

Naruto hesitated, the question cutting through him like a blade. Did he? Once, being Hokage had meant everything to him. It had been his dream, his proof that he could matter. But now? Now, it felt ironically hollow.

"What does being Hokage even mean to you?"

Hiruzen's gaze turned distant as he looked out at the moonlit compound gates. "The Hokage is the person who embodies the Will of Fire," he said. "The belief that everyone in this village is part of one family. That we protect and care for each other, no matter what."

Naruto felt a bitter laugh rise in his throat but swallowed it down.

"The Hokage carries the burden of protecting the village," Hiruzen continued. "Of guiding it, ensuring that the Will of Fire is passed down to the next generation. It's a chain that stretches back to the First Hokage, and one I hope will continue long after me."

"So, has Konoha failed me? Has the Hokage failed me?"

Hiruzen's breath hitched.

"I don't think I ever felt the 'warmth' of family when I cried myself to sleep, Hokage-sama," Naruto continued, his voice trembling, not from fear, but from the weight of everything he had held in for so long. "I don't think I ever felt 'protected' when the villagers glared at me like I was a monster. Like I wasn't even human."

Hiruzen's face fell, the regret pooling in his eyes.

Naruto's voice softened, but that only made it worse, the pain in his words sharper for how calm they were. "You talk about fairness," he said, the faintest tremble in his tone betraying the storm brewing underneath, "about justice, about family… but where was all of that when the innocent needed it? Where was the Will of Fire when the ones who truly needed it were left to fend for themselves? Where was it when I needed it?"

Naruto raised his hand, gesturing vaguely toward the Hokage's nonexistent hat. "That hat…" he began. "That hat once meant something to me. It represented hope. A dream that maybe, one day, I could be more than the village outcast. More than just the kid everyone hated for no reason. That maybe, just maybe, I could be someone who mattered."

His gaze locked onto Hiruzen's then, raw, unflinching, and full of unshed tears. His bright blue eyes seemed to bore into the Hokage, demanding he look at the truth he had ignored for so long. But Naruto didn't let those tears fall. He refused to give Hiruzen—or the village—the satisfaction of seeing just how much they had hurt him.

"But now?" Naruto's voice cracked, the bitterness bleeding through as he forced the words out like broken glass. "Now, it's just a hat. Nothing more. A hat worn by a man who preaches fairness and justice but doesn't live it. A man who lets his village turn its back on a child. A man who talks about family, but doesn't even know what the word means. That's what the Hokage's hat is to me now. Nothing. Just an empty symbol."

Hiruzen stood there in silence. He didn't argue. He didn't deny it. How could he? Every word Naruto said was a truth Hiruzen couldn't refute. Every accusation struck deeper than the last, cutting through the ideals he had spent his life trying to uphold. And now, those ideals crumbled under the weight of the boy's pain.

Shame painted itself across Hiruzen's face. It seeped into every line etched into his weathered features. Shame not just as the Hokage—the leader who was supposed to protect and nurture every soul in his village—but as a man. A man who had failed a boy who needed him the most. A boy he had promised to look after and had let down in every way that mattered.

But worst of all, shame as the man Naruto once called "grandpa." That name had been a gift—a sign of trust, of affection, of the hope that maybe, despite everything, Naruto still believed in him. And Hiruzen had thrown it away. Through his inaction, his silence, his complacency, he had let that precious gift rot away until there was nothing left.

"I don't hate you, old man. I should, but I don't." He paused. "What I feel is worse. Disappointment."

He let the word hang in the air like a blade suspended above Hiruzen's head, cutting deeper than any weapon ever could. Then, with no further words, Naruto turned away.

For a moment, he thought to call out, to stop him, to say something—anything—to make this right. But no words came. No action felt sufficient. He remained frozen, bound by the weight of his own failings. Hiruzen Sarutobi, the great Hokage, the Professor, the man who was supposed to guide his people, felt completely powerless.

It wasn't a new feeling, but that only made it worse. He recognized it too well—the same powerlessness that had plagued him when his relationship with his own son, Asuma, had crumbled, built on unspoken expectations and words left unsaid. The same powerlessness that gnawed at him whenever he thought of Tsunade, how he had failed to guide her through her grief and let her leave the village, carrying her pain with her. The same powerlessness that weighed on him every time he remembered Orochimaru, the student he'd let fall into darkness because he couldn't bring himself to act decisively when it mattered most.

And now… now it was Naruto.

This was his great flaw, the one that defined his many regrets: his inability to repair the bonds that should have mattered most to him. Time and again, he had let the people who needed him slip through his fingers, too afraid, too hesitant to confront the mess he had allowed to grow. He always told himself it was for the greater good—that his duty to the village outweighed his personal relationships—but in truth, he simply didn't know how to fix what was broken.

Naruto paused mid-step, his back still turned to the old man.

"If Iruka-sensei hadn't stopped my axe from hitting Kiba," he said, "I would've stopped myself." He glanced over his shoulder. "Not because of anything you taught me. Not because of anything this village stands for. But because I live by the code of someone who believed in me. Someone who gave me hope when no one else would. I wouldn't dirty his code—not even for my anger."

The finality in his voice landed like a hammer blow, reverberating in the space between them. Naruto's eyes lingered on Hiruzen for just a second longer, piercing and resolute, before he turned and began walking again. His steps were deliberate, unhurried, as though he were leaving behind more than just the conversation.

"Good night, Hokage-sama!"

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In the outer ring of Konoha's civilian district, amidst unassuming shops and buildings, lay a small, nondescript bar tucked between a bakery and a butcher shop. Its wooden sign swung slightly in the breeze, the kanji for Willow Rest visible under the moonlight. Inside, the bar was dimly lit, its air thick with the quiet murmur of patrons nursing drinks. A cloaked figure entered, leaning slightly on a cane. Shimura Danzo had returned to Konoha.

The bartender froze, his hand tightening on the glass he was polishing, before quickly bowing. Without a word, Danzo moved toward the back of the establishment. His cane tapped against the wooden floor in rhythmic intervals. He paused before a worn brick wall, his lone eye scanning it until his cane tapped three times in a circular motion. A faint glow appeared, spiderwebbing into a complex sealing array. The bricks began to shift, twisting and rearranging themselves. Slowly, a narrow door materialized, creaking open to reveal a stairway descending into darkness.

Danzo stepped through without hesitation, the door sealing itself behind him with a quiet hum. The stairway opened into a vast underground chamber, lit by lanterns casting eerie shadows on the damp stone walls. Hundreds of masked figures appeared seemingly from nowhere, kneeling silently as their collective voice echoed in unison:

"The unseen ones who support the great tree of Konoha from the depths of the earth. We are the Root."

Danzo's expression remained as stoic as ever. With a single, deliberate tap of his cane, the masked figures stood, silent and awaiting orders. At the center of the room stood a high-ranking Root operative, their mask etched with intricate patterns marking their rank. They held a scroll in their hands, bowing as Danzo approached.

"Report."

"Lord Danzo, the target has been under continuous surveillance. Sai has compiled a detailed report. Agent Sai, step forward."

From the shadows, Sai flickered into existence, kneeling with mechanical precision. "Lord Danzo," Sai said, his tone devoid of emotion.

"Deliver your findings," Danzo commanded, unfurling the scroll and scanning its contents with his lone eye.

"Target Uzumaki Naruto has been observed in his home, his classroom, and in various public interactions. I have documented all noteworthy behaviors, relationships, and rumors surrounding him. The first section includes detailed points of interest."

Danzo's gaze lingered on the mention of Naruto's team: Hatake Kakashi, Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura.

Kakashi… Danzo muttered internally. Proceed with caution. That man sees too much.

He moved on, his expression hardening as he read about Naruto's display of killer intent. He tapped his cane again, sharp and deliberate.

"Agent Fu."

Another masked figure materialized from the shadows. "Yes, Lord Danzo?"

"Erase any civilian memories of Naruto's killer intent."

The words hung in the dim chamber, cold and final. The Root operatives didn't flinch, didn't hesitate. They simply nodded. Danzo calculated that the clan shinobi would keep such knowledge contained. Their loyalties were bound by tradition, honor, and the subtle fear of losing face within Konoha's strict hierarchies. They would whisper, certainly, but only within the confines of their compounds. Their suspicions wouldn't reach the streets.

Civilians, however, were a different matter entirely.

They were Konoha's weakest link—a necessary part of the village but untrained, undisciplined, and dangerously prone to gossip. Whispers among traders at the market or murmurs over sake in the taverns could spread like wildfire, twisting and growing with every retelling. By the time those whispers reached other ears—ears outside Konoha, perhaps—they could turn into something uncontrollable.

Naruto's killer intent wasn't just a threat to his enemies; it was a threat to Konoha's image itself. A boy who was already mistrusted and feared by many civilians now showing killer intent? That wasn't a narrative Danzo could afford to let take root.

"Understood."

Danzo rolled the scroll shut, his grip tightening slightly. He stared into the shadows, his voice calm but heavy with authority.

"Sai. Fu. Analyze Uzumaki's mental state. Draft a letter. It must encourage trust and curiosity. No lies."

"The truth, Lord Danzo?" Sai asked.

Danzo's gaze shifted to him, piercing. "Yes. The truth wounds deeper than any lie. Use it carefully."

Normally, the answer would be simple. If there was information to gather, he would extract it cleanly and thoroughly. Root operatives were experts in such matters. A mind could be unraveled with Yamanaka techniques, every thread of knowledge plucked clean and cataloged. Failing that, he had other methods.

Kotoamatsukami.

It was the ultimate tool of manipulation, one that could not be traced or resisted. A single command, flawlessly embedded, would turn even the most unruly soul into a loyal servant. With it, he could plant the seeds of allegiance deep in Naruto's mind. He could sculpt the boy into exactly what Konoha needed—a weapon with no equal, bound to the village and to Danzo himself.

But this was not a luxury he could indulge.

Danzo's eye flickered toward the masked figures kneeling before him, their stoic silence awaiting his orders.

The Kyuubi.

It always came back to the Kyuubi. The beast complicated everything. Its presence in the boy's body created a barrier of unpredictability. The sealing process that tied it to Naruto was layered with intricate protections crafted by the Yondaime. Any attempt to interfere with Naruto's mind—even subtly—risked destabilizing that seal. To gamble on such an approach would be reckless, even by his standards.

And then there was the boy himself.

Danzo didn't yet understand the scope of Naruto's new abilities. The sheer weight of his presence during combat reports. It wasn't just the Kyuubi anymore; the boy was becoming something else. Something unknown. And Danzo knew better than anyone that the unknown was dangerous.

No, Naruto could not be manipulated the way others could. Not yet.

"Root exists to serve Konoha. This mission is no different. Do not fail."

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As Naruto trudged through the streets of Konoha, the quiet stopped being soothing. Rather, it was suffocating, pressing down on him like a heavy weight he couldn't shake. He felt like a foreigner in his own village.

"Humans," he muttered bitterly, kicking a loose pebble that skittered across the cobblestones. A humorless laugh escaped his throat, raw and sharp. He'd rather face a horde of Hollows or even a demon than deal with people. Monsters, at least, were straightforward. They didn't hide their intentions behind fake smiles or whispered insults.

The sting of tears burned at the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away quickly. He wasn't weak. He didn't have time to be. Emotions won't keep me alive; focus will. He reminded himself of that as he walked toward his house, his pace quickening as if he could outrun the storm in his head.

When he finally reached his apartment, something caught his attention immediately. A red envelope, bright against the dull wood of his front door, was pinned in place with a thin kunai.

Naruto froze, his hand hovering over the doorframe. His eyes darted to the rooftops, to the shadows pooling in the alleys, but there was nothing. No chakra signatures, no signs of lingering presence. Whoever had left it had long since gone.

A frown creased his brow as he pulled the envelope free. The kunai was clean and ordinary, the kind anyone in the village might carry. The envelope itself was neatly folded, almost pristine, with writing on the front in small, careful handwriting:

To Naruto, from a secret friend.

Naruto's stomach tightened, the frown deepening. Secret friend? It could mean anything—a threat, a trap, or just another cruel joke. He had no shortage of people in the village who'd take a cheap shot at him under the guise of kindness.

For a moment, he considered throwing it away, but curiosity won out. He shoved the envelope into his pocket and unlocked his door.

Inside, the small space felt colder than usual. It always did when he returned alone after a long day. He shrugged off his armor, setting it down carefully by the wall, and dropped onto his worn couch. The letter felt heavy in his hand, far more than its weight should have been.

Why do I even care? he thought bitterly, running his thumb over the edge of the envelope. But he did care. No matter how many times the world spat on him, a small part of him still wanted to believe there was something good waiting for him. Something worth trusting.

He unfolded the letter with steady hands, though his mind churned with unease. The paper was smooth, almost unnaturally so, like whoever wrote it had gone out of their way to make it perfect. And then his eyes landed on the first line, and his breath hitched.

[ Hello there, Naruto. You don't know me, but I know you. I was a great friend of your parents. ]

He froze.

My parents... He'd never really thought about them. Not deeply. He knew they had to exist, but he never let himself wonder. It was easier to accept they were gone, probably in the Kyuubi attack or something. But now, this "friend" decides to contact him? Why now? Where were they the last decade or so?

He read on, his fingers tightening on the letter.

[ I'm sure you have many questions, but unfortunately, I must keep myself hidden, in the shadows, to keep you safe… to keep your parents' legacy safe. But, Naruto, I can tell you this: your parents would be proud of the man you've become. ]

A strange, stinging warmth filled his chest, and he felt tears pricking at his eyes. Proud?!

The thought that his parents, who he'd never met, might feel proud of him was… overwhelming. He blinked hard, biting his lip to keep himself together.

[ Naruto, I want you to know this, but you must not trust Hiruzen Sarutobi. That man has kept a lot from you—more than you even know. ]

He drew in a sharp breath, the name jolting him back to the present. Hiruzen…? Naruto glanced at the old man's apology, fresh in his memory, still stinging like salt on a wound. The letter's words felt like they were feeding on every bit of anger, every ounce of frustration he'd been holding onto.

[ I know this is sudden, but with the lies Hiruzen has fed you, I know my time has come. I can't help you directly—if I did, Hiruzen would try to kill me. I can only provide you with information, the truth about who you are, Naruto Uzumaki. Don't you want to know? ]

He felt a lump rise in his throat.

Who am I?

He'd been searching for that answer his whole life. The old man never told him anything. He didn't even know his parents' names. Everything he thought he knew about himself felt like it was slipping through his fingers, and he had no idea what was real anymore.

Naruto stared at the letter, his jaw tightening as his eyes scanned the words again.

[ Naruto, you have two choices before you. Below this sentence is a storage seal where I've stored the first answer. ]

His gaze dropped to the intricate storage seal below the writing. The faintest shimmer danced across its surface, as though it was holding something that wanted to be free.

The next line, however, stopped him cold.

[ Even if you choose the second option of not opening the seal, let me tell you this—the Uzumaki are the only people who can hold the Kyuubi. ]

Naruto's fingers twitched, the letter crinkling slightly as he clenched his fist. That one line—it was deliberate, a hook buried deep in his curiosity. It wasn't just some vague hint or cryptic phrase. It was a fact, one he didn't fully understand, but it dangled in front of him like a carrot on a stick. Whoever had written this knew exactly how to bait him.

And it was working.

[ The choices are simple. Don't open the seal, and the story ends. You go on believing whatever lies Hiruzen wants you to believe. Or, open the seal, and I'll show you how deep the rabbit hole goes. ]

His hands shook as he stared down at the seal.

A war raged inside him—one side demanding he find out, the other reminding him of every lie he'd been told, every half-truth, every door slammed in his face. But the choice was clear. He had to know.

Whatever it takes, I'm done with half-truths.

Naruto poured his chakra into the seal, expecting the usual swirl of smoke. But instead, the letter suddenly burst into flames. He jerked back, and there, in his hands, he found himself holding a book with a note attached to the front. He pulled it off, reading the words with a mix of curiosity and unease.

[ Naruto, you chose wisely. I know you're hungry for more, but I want to test you—to see if you're truly ready for answers that are considered village secrets. Information that can cause war... like who your parents are. ]

He swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the note.

War? Just knowing my parents could do that? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

[ Naruto, your test is simple. Keep our conversations a secret. No one must know that you're receiving this information. I know it will be hard; I know you want to demand the truth from Hiruzen. But don't. Don't give that liar a chance to fool you. ]

His jaw clenched as he read that. That liar. If there was even a shred of truth to this, maybe it was time to stop trusting what he thought he knew.

[ Naruto, I want you to remain silent for the next month, and then you'll receive information about who your mother is. If you can't do that, if you tell Hiruzen or anyone else, I won't help you. Don't disappoint me, Naruto. From your friend, from your guardian, the Hawk of Konoha. ]

Naruto stared at the note, the words blurring as his grip tightened. The Hawk of Konoha. He turned the phrase over in his mind, tasting the bitterness it left behind. A "friend"? A "guardian"? No. This was no ally. He couldn't afford to believe that.

A part of him wanted to laugh—sharp, hollow, and humorless. Trust? After everything? After all the stares, the whispers, the betrayals, the endless solitude? The very idea was a cruel joke.

And yet… somewhere, buried under the layers of his resentment, something desperate clawed at him. Maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

He hated that part of himself. Hated the hope that still flickered like a stubborn ember, refusing to die no matter how hard he tried to smother it.

His gaze fell to the book in his lap: The History of the Uzumaki Clan. Just seeing the title made his chest feel tight, his breath shallow. It was too much. Too big.

A legacy? A clan? A family?

The words felt like a cruel mockery of the life he'd known.

The book slipped from his trembling hands, hitting the floor with a dull, resounding thud. He didn't move to pick it up. He just sat there, staring at it, frozen.

This was real. It had to be. The weight of it, the implications—it hit like a hammer blow. All his life, he had fought for scraps. For acknowledgment. For a fleeting glance of respect. He had fought to exist in a village that wished he didn't.

And now, now, he was staring at the truth of what they had hidden from him. A clan. A family. A place he belonged.

No one had ever told him. No one had even whispered it. They'd buried it, buried him, and pretended he didn't exist.

A sharp, burning pain bloomed in his chest, like something tearing its way out of him. His fists clenched so tightly his nails bit into his palms, but he barely noticed. His breath hitched, his vision blurred, and then, like a dam breaking, everything poured out.

A single tear slipped down his cheek, unbidden and unwelcome.

Anger surged up, hot and vicious, swallowing the sadness whole. His fist slammed into the floor with enough force to shatter the wood beneath it, splinters flying outward in jagged, chaotic lines. The pain in his knuckles barely registered.

"Why?!" The word ripped from his throat, raw and hoarse, filled with years of bottled-up fury. His voice cracked as it carried through the room, unanswered.

Naruto's chest heaved as he struggled to pull himself together, the storm inside him refusing to settle. He thought of the villagers' scornful eyes, the hateful whispers, the way they looked at him like he was less than human. He thought of the teachers who dismissed him, the peers who mocked him, the endless loneliness that had shaped his life. He thought he had made peace with it—thought he'd grown numb to it—but now it came rushing back with brutal clarity.

He looked down at his clenched fist, blood smearing against the cracked floor. Was this all he was worth? Was this all he'd ever be—a forgotten ghost of something great?

He reached down, grabbing the book again. His hands shook as he pulled it back into his lap, the weight of it grounding him.

Fine, he thought bitterly. I'll play their game. I'll keep quiet. I'll read every page, memorize every line, and carve the truth out of this village with my own two hands if I have to.

The Hawk of Konoha. Naruto's gaze drifted back to the note, his eyes narrowing. Could he trust them?

He already knew the answer—No.

Trust had to be earned, and this Hawk had done nothing to deserve it. If they thought a few words and a hidden book would win him over, they were as delusional as the villagers who thought they could keep him chained in their ignorance.

Oscar's voice echoed in his mind. "Precept the Tenth: Trust in yourself, your weapon, and your code—for yourself, and for those you protect."

Naruto let out a slow breath, his fingers curling around the flickering pyromancy flame that danced in his palm. The heat licked at his skin, wild and untamed, but he forced it under his control.

"If this is another lie…" Naruto's voice was low, cold, and razor-edged. The flame cast shadows across his face.

"…I'll clip this Hawk's wings and leave them to crawl in the dirt, regretting every breath they've ever taken."

He didn't yell. He didn't scream. It wasn't a threat. It was a certainty.

The room fell silent, the only sound the faint crackle of the pyromancy flame in his hand. Naruto stared down at the book, his resolve hardening like steel. Whatever this was, whoever this Hawk claimed to be, he would find out.

And if they were lying, if this was just another betrayal in a lifetime full of them…

Naruto's grip tightened on the flame.

…he would burn them to ash.