3 At last, at the majestic gates of Konoha!
I was comfortably seated on the couch, enjoying the treats I had bought with my allowance. Although my aspiration to maintain a balanced diet was aimed at promoting healthy growth, I allowed myself occasional indulgences; after all, even the most resolute individuals have their weaknesses. Despite occasional lapses in commitment throughout the week, my constant dedication to my training had become an unalienable habit.
Jiraiya, a crazy man and somewhat perverted figure, had been absent for an extended period. His longer absences seemed to coincide with missions related to the enigmatic Akatsuki. Presumably, this organization was beginning to unveil its sinister machinations. The specter of Pain, the possessor of the Rinnegan and the one responsible for my father's death in the original iteration of the universe, loomed in my thoughts. As the son and heir to his legacy, it was my duty to prevent a similar tragedy from recurring in this life.
At the moment, my focus was on safeguarding those I cared about. However, this protection was not without a latent sense of stagnation. An unsettling feeling of stagnation pervaded my journey, as if my progress fell short of its full potential. Deprived of the mentor and guide that Jiraiya represented, I felt disoriented, lacking a clear direction to follow.
I was immersed in introspective reflections when a sudden realization sharpened my senses: the babysitter was approaching, triggering an immediate urge to escape. The relentless presence of that lady, whose care I considered excessive, led to a growing anxiety. It was as if she enveloped me more with her persistent concerns with each passing moment. In my personal assessment, Jiraiya, despite his notorious understanding, seemed to underestimate my ability to take care of myself.
Breaking free from the clutches of the babysitter was no trivial task. A well-thought-out escape plan, worthy of a true ninja, began to unfold meticulously in my mind. Strategically, I waited until the lady had distanced herself enough, absorbed in her own duties, before initiating my escape maneuver. In a swift, stealthy motion, I slid off the couch, using the cunning of one who mastered the art of disguise and stealth.
It was as if I were the very wind, a skillful specter moving without leaving a trace. My steps were light and silent, my body agile like a leaf in the whirlwind breeze. It didn't take long for me to find the perfect opportunity: the figure of my guardian had vanished into some distant room. It was time for action.
My escape continued with the stealthy glide of a ninja in training, sometimes hiding in the shadows of the walls, sometimes skillfully avoiding curious glances that could betray my intent. A sense of pride blossomed within me as, alongside my cautious escape, internal jokes about the maternal intensity of that woman emerged. "If only she knew she was facing a true ninja prodigy, not a helpless brat" I murmured to myself, with internal laughter echoing within me.
The adventure, which resembled more of a high-stakes infiltration maneuver, was about to reach its climax as my gaze remained attentively fixed on the slightly open window, promising the awaited freedom. Crossing the final obstacle—the window frame—was not just an act of evasion but a symbol, an affirmation of my independence beyond the child's facade that I inhabited. And so, like a daring bird escaping the nest, I leaped into freedom with the youthful joy of my new body.
"Ah, escaping the clutches of confinement, at last! Phew! Now, finally free to resume my unwavering practice of taijutsu and ninjutsu" I proclaimed with a touch of sarcasm, narrowly escaping the grasp of that tutelary figure who seemed to see herself as the guardian of a mere mischievous child.
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My skilled hands engaged in the manipulation of balloons, my goal being mastery of the infamous Rasengan. In a curious irony, despite ridiculing Naruto for his foolishness, I found myself equally challenged to master this skill. Executing the Rasengan by conjuring shadow clones, a technique I wanted to learn, exceeded the current limits of my chakra control, while the underlying technique remained shrouded in mystery. In this context, it was impossible not to acknowledge the monstrous chakra reserve that the blond displayed.
However, my tireless effort was accompanied by a sea of failures and setbacks, culminating in the physical agony of frozen hands from continuous efforts. My exhausted body cried out for a break, and I relented, finding shelter for a well-deserved rest. The daily rigors of my training routine extracted a considerable toll on my fragile constitution.
Nestling into an improvised nook, I succumbed to a deep and restorative sleep. I had decided to remain hidden until the opportune departure of the babysitter, as I refused to be imprisoned in my own home.
"Something is terribly wrong" I exclaimed, abruptly awakening to a restless sense of imminent danger. A feeling of alarm electrified my being, alerting me to the anomaly unfolding around me. In a matter of moments, a kunai sliced through the air just millimeters from my face, embedding itself in the tree bark that had become my improvised backrest. Panic gripped my senses, and I hastily grabbed a kunai stolen from my father.
"Who lurks in the shadows?" I shouted, cornered by the terror that enveloped me. At that moment, I put into practice the lessons I had learned. With life on the line, there was no room for hesitation. I steadied my improvised blade, but weakness threatened my stability, a challenge to my determination.
In a agile leap, a ninja emerged from the shadows of the trees, landing before me. My insides tingled with fear. Despite my preparation for such a scenario, my youthful body and lack of combat experience left me vulnerable. I struggled to maintain my focus, even as latent anxiety distorted my perception.
"So, you're the son of the Sannin?" the ninja inquired, their expression icy, projecting authority and coldness.
"Who are you?" I stammered, my voice trembling, the sight of the opponent's masked face evoking palpable terror. The self-assurance I had always nurtured, expecting to face such situations with composure, was now eclipsed by fierce trepidation. For a fraction of a second, I forcefully suppressed my panic, reminding myself that the time had come to apply what I had learned.
"Unfortunately, kid, you'll be killed," the ninja declared with the calmness of a predator, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
My brain seemed to send tremor signals throughout my entire body, as if every muscle and nerve was responding to the imminent danger. The presence of the ninja before me was overwhelming, a true master of the shinobi arts, an experienced chuunin or jounin. The shadow of death hung over me, and the idea of emerging from this battle unscathed seemed increasingly remote. The uncertainty of the situation reminded me that I was still at the beginning of my journey, and the adversity of that moment was a true test of my courage.
In the heat of battle, flashbacks of the conversations I had with Jiraiya echoed in my mind, like whispers of guidance from a wise mentor. His words resonated clearly: "Never go back on your word and never give up, no matter how insurmountable the difficulties may seem." Despite his antics and eccentric personality, Jiraiya always found ways to impart valuable lessons through his words and actions.
The memory of this advice was like a flame reigniting within me. I could not allow myself to be overwhelmed by fear, not when my journey was just beginning. My posture changed, a fierce motivation replacing the uncertainty that had previously paralyzed me. When the enemy ninja advanced toward me, my hands moved in a fraction of a second, executing a substitution jutsu that allowed me to escape the lethal blow.
"But what? You damn brat!" The ninja roared in anger, his surprise evident at underestimating my ability.
His surprise didn't last long. Now it was my turn to act. Shurikens flew toward the enemy, but he evaded them easily, as if dancing with the wind. My frustration grew, but I couldn't allow myself to be discouraged. As my eyes blinked, the ninja was already rushing toward me, his impressive speed reminding me of the vast gap between our abilities.
Nevertheless, I couldn't back down. Brandishing my kunai, I prepared to face him head-on, even though I knew my chances were slim. However, when our impending clash was about to happen, I realized that the ninja before me was nothing but a skillfully created illusion. My body instinctively turned, my eyes capturing the hand signs being formed by the real opponent. "Kasumi Juuha no Jutsu" – the sound of the words echoed, and in the blink of an eye, clones appeared around me, surrounding me.
The sensation of being trapped in a genjutsu washed over me, as if the shadows of illusion were entwining in my mind. I remembered Jiraiya's lessons on genjutsu, but now the situation was my reality, and I struggled to find a way out. The clones advanced, their coordinated movements making it difficult to identify the real ninja.
Desperately, I sought an opening, a gap in the myriad of clones. Sweat dripped down my forehead as I concentrated chakra into my feet, recalling the memories of the arduous training I had undergone to learn tree-walking. I remembered the power I had seen in Sasuke when he faced Haku in the anime. With a daring leap, I soared into the air, escaping the immediate reach of the clones.
As I floated in the air, the hand signs that Jiraiya had taught me came to mind. I embraced the courage he had inspired me to cultivate and executed the signs with focus. "Fire Release: Flame bomb!" The words escaped my lips as I launched a furious fire attack at the clones, engulfing them in blazing flames.
Gracefully landing on the ground, I took a deep breath, my confidence restored by the small victory. My eyes were fixed on the real ninja, now fallen and rolling on the ground to avoid the blaze. I felt a spark of triumph, knowing that I had caught him off guard, underestimating my ability based on my age.
"Haha, the tables have turned, you jerk!" My voice echoed with triumph and challenge. But the ninja's response was only a cynical laugh, disdain still present on his face.
My patience was wearing thin, and I was angry to get answers. I approached the fallen ninja, my kunai pointed at his neck, an intense look of hatred in my eyes. "Who sent you?" My words were filled with urgency and an aura of threat.
The words of the enemy ninja turned into deafening laughter, echoing through the air. It was as if he relished my attempt at intimidation, a reaction that only increased my frustration. The feeling of powerlessness haunted me, but I was determined not to back down.
"Enough, Kazue" the deep voice of Jiraiya interrupted the standoff. My attention turned to the legendary sannin, whose expression was filled with dissatisfaction. The contrast between his imposing figure and my lowered position was notable, and a wave of shame washed over me.
With a firm gesture, Jiraiya disarmed me, and the cold sensation of the metal disappeared. The full impact of my actions began to hit me, and I felt myself crumble under the disappointed gaze of my mentor. The realization of the gravity of what I had almost done, of taking a life, left me stunned.
"He was a ninja who escaped from a mission I was involved in" Jiraiya's words were serious and carried the weight of experience.
"It seems he found out about you. We'll have to move again." His voice was now gentle, but there was underlying sadness. I could sense Jiraiya's anguish at having allowed the enemy to get close to me, a burden no parent would want to bear.
The lesson was clear, and I absorbed it with humility. Death, violence, and the weight of the decisions I had almost made were a somber reminder of the responsibility that came with the shinobi path I had chosen to follow. I looked at Jiraiya, my respect and gratitude for him manifesting in my gaze as he guided me away from the scene and toward new challenges, each step a promise of growth and learning.
It wasn't clear, but something told me it had been a test. But I quickly shook my head, pushing that thought out of my mind. My father wouldn't do this to me, right?
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We're heading to Konoha, you're going to live there for a while," the old man said as he meticulously organized our luggage, his experienced hands moving with a blend of efficiency and calmness.
Finally, the decision was made. Jiraiya, the notorious Sannin, had finally decided it was time to introduce me to the village where the crucial events of my journey would take place. He mentioned that he had matters to settle with his old partner in the village. It was clear that time was running out, and he could no longer be my constant protector. The life of a renowned shinobi was filled with risks, a burden that Jiraiya knew all too well. The bitter irony of being one of the best was that you inevitably attracted the worst.
After a journey that seemed to last an eternity, we finally stood before the imposing gates of the majestic Village of the Leaf. My expression could not have been more surprised. The grandeur of the village was overwhelming, stretching for miles beyond what I could imagine. It was as if an entire city was encapsulated within those walls.
"Welcome, Jiraiya!" the guards greeted us respectfully. Seeing how they treated my mentor vividly reminded me of the prominent position he held in Konoha.
We walked through the gates, and the sight that unfolded before me was stunning. The organization and prosperity of the village were palpable, a testament to the meticulous care of its leader. "Wow, it's truly magnificent here" my admiration escaped in words as my eyes wandered the well-kept streets.
"It's as if that old man Sarutobi is doing a great job of administration" Jiraiya commented with a comical tone in his voice, laughing as if he had shared a secret.
Walking through the bustling streets of the village, I was surrounded by a crowd of ninjas coming and going, each with their own purpose and destination. The scene brought a wave of nostalgia, as if I were being transported into the pages of one of my favorite mangas, something ironic.
And finally, before us, stood the imposing building housing the Hokage's office. The feeling of being before this iconic place made my legs tremble with anticipation. Every beat of my heart seemed to echo the revered name of Konoha. My journey so far was about to culminate in the sacred temple of my new home.
Without ceremony, my father pushed open the door and we entered. There he was, seated at the desk, a pipe between his lips and a welcoming smile on his face.
"So, you've finally shown up, Jiraiya" the Hokage greeted with a calm voice and an expression that blended friendship and authority.
"Took you long enough, old man Hiruzen" Jiraiya responded in a casual tone, as if greeting an old friend. His apparent disrespect was a mark of familiarity between the two.
The Hokage, between puffs on his pipe, turned his attention to us. "So, what brings me the honor of your visit?" he asked, his voice filled with curiosity.
"I'll leave Kazue under your care," my father indicated in my direction, formalizing the purpose of our arrival.
The Hokage then directed his gaze towards me, his smiling eyes shining with a sense of recognition. "So, this is your son? He looks a lot like you when you were young."
"Don't be fooled, old man" Jiraiya intervened with a laugh. "He's a clumsier version of me, hahaha."
Hiruzen gave me a friendly look. "How are you, young man? This pervert seems to have left his mark on you."
My mind whirled for a moment. There he was, the legendary Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Hokage I admired. He was as real, as vivid as the village of Konoha itself. My fanboy blood was boiling, and I could barely contain my excitement. An uncontrollable desire overcame me as I approached Hiruzen, and before I could control myself, I begged him, "An autograph, please!"
The Hokage's eyes widened momentarily before he let out a contagious laugh.
"I'm your biggest fan, damn it! I never thought I'd have this chance in life" I exclaimed, my eyes shining with a mix of awe and enthusiasm as I looked at the Third Hokage of the village. My lips curved into a smile that threatened to tear my face apart. This was one of those rare occasions when reality surpassed dreams.
"Ah, he's quite outgoing, isn't he, Jiraiya?" Commented the Hokage, with a touch of amusement in his voice, exchanging a knowing glance with Jiraiya.
The moment was, without a doubt, epic. My excitement was beyond measure as I tried to maintain composure in front of one of Konoha's legendary Hokages. The sight of Hiruzen Sarutobi, inside that office, reinforced my sense that I was truly living a dream come true.
The scene that unfolded after was almost as memorable as the meeting itself. My father finally decided it was time to intervene as I continued to be amazed, unable to find coherent words to express my devotion. He patted my shoulder and with a playful expression announced, "Time to go, kid. You're suffocating the old Hokage. He and I have matters to attend to."
I was awakened from my state of awe instantly, and my gaze shifted from Hiruzen's surprised face to my father's amused one. I had to agree, I was becoming a bit excessive in my adoration.
"I told you, kid, rein it in," Jiraiya laughed as he gently pushed me out of the office, as if escorting an hyperactive child away from a candy store.
"But dad, I... I just... wanted an autograph," I stammered, my voice sounding almost childish in the situation.
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After meticulously organizing all our belongings in my new apartment, I could hardly contain my excitement for the next stage of my journey: entering the ninja academy of Konoha. Although I was already remarkably skilled for my age, my motivation was not only to improve my abilities but also to form bonds with future companions and, who knows, relive a bit of those school days.
Despite my ambitions, I knew I still had much to learn and that I was not exempt from challenges. The weight of Kakashi's shadow and the enigma that was Itachi Uchiha hovered over me, constantly reminding me that my path was far from devoid of obstacles.
After a challenging journey, I found myself wandering the bustling streets of Konoha. As I walked down the dirt road, a sense of peace washed over my heart. The harmonious coexistence between peasants, civilians, and ninjas was almost hypnotic.
Of all the places I had visited so far, the Village of the Leaf emanated the most vibrant and positive energy. Passing by the imposing Hokage Rock, which witnessed the legacy of great leaders, I was reminded that Konoha was a force to be reckoned with and never underestimated.
However, despite having explored a lot already, there was still more to discover. My eyes lit up at the thought of legendary places, like Naruto Uzumaki's room, or the abandoned Uchiha complex. The possibility of visiting Ichiraku, the famous ramen establishment, also excited me.
As I wandered the streets, I noticed that they were gradually emptying. Night was approaching, and I had lost track of time. The sound of my worn sandals on the road was a constant, echoing in the growing quiet as I prepared to return to my apartment.
As I advanced, I passed by a park where several children played happily in groups. But my attention was captured by a solitary scene: a child sitting alone on a swing, struggling to hold back the tears that threatened to flow down her face. It was as if a void surrounded this child, and others around her seemed to avoid getting close to her.
Amidst the scene of the park, where the effervescence of childhood translated into collective play, I stumbled upon a set of childlike expressions intertwined in laughter and mischief. But, drawn by a solitary figure solemnly swinging at the peak of sadness. Her melancholic aura enveloped her like a heavy cloak, and though she fought against the torrent of emotions, tears threatened to spill, framing her anguish in a trail of tears that should never be.
The cruel contrast, however, did not reside solely in the loneliness that surrounded her. It was the attitude of those around her that evoked a sense of bewilderment and shock. The disdainful words, a harsh sound that cut like sharp razors, reverberated through the air like a dark echo.
"She's an aberration... don't get close."
"Let's stay away from that!"
"Come with me, son, it's better to keep your distance."
Each statement uttered carried a dose of cruelty that seeped into the core of human compassion. It was a visceral shock in the face of inhumanity. As individuals who called themselves ninjas, warriors of solidarity, allowed such a spectacle of suffering to unfold? Turbulent feelings drove me forward, urging me to approach the helpless child.
"You there!" my voice echoed, a call of empathy cast in the direction of the solitary figure occupying the swing.
The eyes of the young blonde-haired girl lifted to meet mine, and in that visual contact, I plunged into an abyss of sadness and hopelessness that seemed to resonate in the depths of those moist eyes. It was as if her suffering, dense as the night, was projected there, becoming an eloquent form of expression. However, amidst that dark melancholy, I noticed a trace of persistent vitality, a stubborn flame that refused to be extinguished by the weight of circumstances.
"What do you want?" came the response, uttered with a rough tone, almost like a reluctant shield raised against a world that seemed determined to add more suffering to her already unbearable pain.
"It's curious, your appearance reminds me of a friend" I observed, my eyes probing her expression for some connection. Deep down I knew the answer, but a part of me refused to accept it.
"And you came just to mock me?" her voice, laden with deep sadness, delved even further into the murky depths of my understanding.
"No, I came to be your friend. I'm Kazue," I proclaimed with genuine conviction, extending my hand with a welcoming smile, genuinely hoping to build a bond that was deeper than those momentary words.
Surprise painted her face with strokes of incredulity as she hesitated, evaluating my offer of friendship. A brief moment stretched out before she finally shook my hand.
"I'm Naruto."
"What?!" my exclamation echoed through the air, my body automatically moving away. A wave of confusion and restlessness swept over me like a whirlwind. Something was undeniably amiss. Naruto had always been a boy in my memory, or at least that's what all the information seemed to indicate. Just that fact alone had me baffled.
"Hey, Naruto! This joke isn't funny. You're a boy, you can break the genjutsu" I declared firmly, my voice echoing with the strength of conviction, but before I could complete my reasoning, my speech was interrupted by a punch that came with impressive intensity.
Her fists sliced through the air with fervent energy, and the impact hit my face like a vivid reminder of her frustration. The force of the blow carried a storm of emotions, a tumultuous intersection of anger and confusion that she couldn't contain.
"I... I'm not a boy!" she shouted, her voice trembling under the weight of an emotional torrent that threatened to overflow. Her clenched fists seemed to want to challenge the very reality that surrounded her.
It didn't help that other children seemed to enjoy the scene we were causing.
The onslaught didn't knock me down, but it left a painful echo in my body. This was not just a physical assault, but a venting of emotions that consumed her. The sadness in her eyes, once empty, gained shape and depth in her intense expression. This young girl was expressing her inner struggle with a ferocity that was both disconcerting and touching.
After a moment to catch my breath, I watched her, her eyes shining with a dark determination, as if an inner fire had been ignited, urging her to launch a new attack.
"You... you're just like the others!" Naruto growled, her words brimming with a fervent mixture of anger. Her fists stirred in the air, a sequence of blows that echoed the storm that was bubbling inside her. "I'm not a boy!" she screamed, charging at me.
But something changed in the second onslaught. My sharpened instincts captured the difference, and I managed to dodge her blow with precise agility. Her expression transformed into a combination of frustration and surprise, a revealing blend of shattered expectations and a quest to understand what was happening.
She didn't hesitate, taking a step back before launching a frenzied sequence of punches. Each punch was an expression of her inner struggle, a tangible reflection of the emotional turmoil that dominated her mind. But as her fists cut through the air, I dodged with a supernatural agility, as if every move of mine were synchronized with the dance of her attacks.
Her frustration grew with each evasion, her expression showing the struggle between her anger and her desire to confront the situation head-on. Each attack was a duel between her vulnerability and her bravery. And as I avoided her blows, I could witness the layers of emotion that surrounded her, like the turbulent surface of a lake hiding the deepest mysteries.
After a sequence of impressive dodges, I stepped back a bit, my gaze meeting hers with mutual understanding. The silence that followed was charged with undeniable tension, as if both of us were on the verge of unraveling a complex puzzle.
My mind spun to find a solution to the confusing scene before me, so I took a risk.
"I've said it before, haven't I? I want to be your friend because... well, because you're really cute," my words were spoken with deliberate serenity, the smile that accompanied the statement filled with sincerity and a touch of humor. Sometimes, a well-placed compliment could defuse a tense situation, and with a hint of charm and flirtation, no girl would resist.
A subtle change coursed through her face, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue that charmingly contrasted with her previous anger. Her gaze, once filled with fury, now displayed an expression of confusion and surprise, a display of emotions that danced in her eyes like leaves in the wind. That fierce motivation that had propelled her before, manifested through clenched fists and vigorous blows, now gave way to an intriguing complexity.
"Are you... are you teasing me?" she murmured, her tone a combination of suspicion and perplexity.
A smile played on my lips at her reaction. "Not at all, Naruto. I just... can't ignore someone as expressive as you."
An aura of suspicion still lingered about her, but there was also a trace of curiosity dancing in her eyes. "Expressive? What do you mean by that?"
"All this intensity. The passion with which you approach things. It's... captivating," I confessed, letting the genuine willingness marked by her fiery spirit shine through in my voice.
"This... makes no sense at all," she muttered, clearly puzzled by my unexpected approach.
"That's where you're wrong, Naruto. Sometimes, the things that seem the most confusing are the most authentic," I retorted, shrugging casually as I maintained my gaze firmly fixed on hers.
She remained silent for a moment, as if pondering my words. The silence that settled between us seemed to hold a world of possibilities, a fragile bridge between two souls seeking mutual understanding. Her eyes, now less filled with anger and more full of questions, sought answers in my gaze, as if I held a key to deciphering the riddle that she represented.
The silence between us persisted, as if time itself had been suspended, allowing our gazes to entwine in a silent dance of mutual understanding. I watched her, realizing that something was forming within her, something deep that was beginning to bubble to the surface. And then, suddenly, as if an invisible veil had been lifted, a laugh escaped from her lips.
