Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. What is not Kishimoto, Alex?
Summary: Ever hear something you aren't supposed to? A ten year old Naruto fooling around where he shouldn't leads him to hear the identity of his parents. What do you do when you're the son of the most hated man in the Elemental Nations? Hide it and play the fool.
A story where Naruto is smart enough to change his ways, applies himself to correct his flaws, and scared enough to make sure that unlike his parents, he wasn't going to die young. Naruto is decidedly OOC from cannon. I don't think I could write first person Naruto as in character… here, Naruto will just be acting the fool. If you don't like that (and I think most people do like when Naruto isn't a complete moron) then you don't have to read.
I would say no flames, but heh, who am I kidding? BTW, I deleted all my old stories. Man, did they suck… do not let fourteen year olds write fanfiction.
111
It was supposed to be a simple prank, hide in the crawlspace above the Hokage's desk, and at the right moment, drop down and scare the crap out of the old man. Maybe hit him with a few eggs that I had brought with me at the same time.
I didn't think I would be hearing something like this.
Just when I was about to leap out of my hiding spot for the prank, a grizzly old guy walked into the Hokage's office like he owned it. His hair was spiky white and unkempt, his funny clothes smelled, even from where I was hiding, like he hadn't washed them for days. It smelled like all the bars that people kept kicking me out of, and something else my young mind couldn't place. Although the red vested man was strange, he wasn't going to interrupt my plan of getting the old man.
Then I caught a few words of the conversation, and my breath caught in my chest in surprise, as I realize that they were talking about me!
A fist slammed heavily on the desk, yet somehow it didn't break, as the tall old guy glared at the Hokage, "Naruto needs to be trained, Sarutobi-jiji! You know it as well as I do. The boy has huge potential as a ninja, he just needs to unlock it."
The Hokage took a long drag from his pipe as I squinted down at them, heart beating quickly, excited to hear this obviously secret conversation. Special training for me? I was definitely in! Then I would show that Sasuke bastard who was boss when we sparred again in class! Then Sakura would go out with me and… distracted by my daydream, I almost missed all of the Hokage's reply.
"…stay in the village, I would happily allow you to train him, Jiraiya."
Score! Training for me!
But to my surprise, Jiraiya, who I had already been sizing up as a potential teacher, just snorted. "As if." The man said haughtily, "You know the village puts a major dampener on my cool. I got to be on the move. Let him come with me, already! He should have been with me since he was a baby. I'm his godfather."
God… father? If that hadn't been a big enough shock, what came next almost sent me crashing down to demand answers.
"Minato would not want his son to leave the village," The old man replies sharply, "Not only is it not safe, the son of the Fourth Hokage belongs in Konoha, he should be raised here."
"Raised to die like his father? Or his mother?" Jiraiya challenged, while I could only lay in shock above the two who were unaware of my presence. The dusty crawlspace was dark and musty, I held back the absentminded sneeze that threatened to surface. As much as I wanted answers, I didn't want to be caught anymore. This conversation… I wasn't supposed to hear this conversation.
"Rock, Lightning, Sand, Grass." The Hokage lists, angered by Jiraiya's casual barb, "Not to mention Mist and Rain as well for his mother. The last Namikaze and the last Uzumaki. I almost considered giving him another family name at birth. If Naruto leaves this village, and if his presence and name spread into the world, it will be the end of him. You are not trustworthy enough, Jiraiya. I know you will not be able to resist letting the boy run wild in some unknown village while you take care of your vices."
Jiraiya scowls, "You're wrong. I can change, for him. I see the way the villagers, and even the ninja, look at him. They want nothing to do with him. The last Uchiha is showered with praise and training while the son of the village's hero is left alone, because of what he is."
"If that's truly how you feel," The older man shoots back quickly, "Then remain in the village. Train him to your heart's desire."
"And let you rope me into becoming Hokage while I'm at it?" The vested man turns away, "No thanks. I'll be back for him, old man. Keep him safe and train him up to the point where he can do more than pull useless pranks. Then I'll make him everything his parents would want him to be."
Before the Hokage could reply, Jiraiya had left, slamming the door behind him and moving far out of my view from the small crawlspace and the crack I was looking through. It had been something cool I had found whilst creeping around the old man's office. Something to surprise him with, though he probably already knew about it.
For two hours, I laid completely still, watching the old man silently, debating about whether or not I should go down, to confront him, to demand information… I don't think I had ever sat still for so long.
After several more boring meetings and a lot of paperwork, the old man left the room. I didn't know where he was going, and I didn't really care. I pulled the handle of the panel that led up to the spot open and leapt down, landing like a cat, just like we had learned in the academy. Dusty, dirty, and tired, I went home.
As always, I felt the stares of the villagers on me, and as always, when I moved to meet their gazes, they turned away, as if they hadn't been looking at me. It was always the same. Iruka-sensei always tried to persuade me to wear a color other than orange. I could probably find other clothes to wear, especially if I perused the right dumpsters at the right time, but orange was such a glaring color, it forced people to look at me. It made them meet my eyes, if even for a second of bewildered wonder that a ninja trainee would wear orange... that made it worth it.
Sitting in that crawlspace for so long gave me a lot to think about. People thought I was stupid because I was loud, because I said stupid things to get attention… I don't think I'm that stupid. I just couldn't be bothered with things that I didn't like, or were too hard for me to get right away. Jiji always told me I was very smart for my age when I was younger, even though he didn't say it much anymore now. I guess my grades from the academy were a surprise to him.
It was kind of surprising for me, too. I didn't think the academy would be such hard work. It had been a few years of boring lectures and physical training so far. There were a lot of written tests and reading assignments. I was a pretty good talker, that was easy to pick up by listening to people… but reading and writing weren't something I was very good at.
Technically, coming into the academy, I didn't know how to write at all, and my reading abilities are still slightly more than sucky at best. I had never really thought much of it before, it always seemed like I was going to class thinking that we would finally start training to be real ninja, instead of learning all of the boring history and theory that went along with it.
If anything, it had just gotten more demanding. I was learning ninja stuff like how to throw weapons and gathering chakra (which I was still really bad at controlling, if I got a result at all), but the history and battle tactic lessons didn't go away. In fact, there were even more boring lectures and assignments on top of the real stuff that I wanted to learn. To put it lightly, I was failing, bad.
It hadn't mattered to me, until today.
I'm the son of the Fourth Hokage? The legend who defeated the Kyuubi and basically won the Third Great Shinobi War that Iruka-sensei was always talking about for hours? That should have made me a genius. I was supposed to be amazing at all that learning stuff, like Sakura. And I was supposed to make throwing weapons and gathering chakra easy, like Sasuke.
Instead I was worse at both than even Shikamaru, who only seemed to wake up when he was demanded to do something by Iruka.
My thoughts had carried me down several streets and a few alleyways. No one bothered me, no one ever did. They must know it too. I'm the son of the Fourth, but I'm not amazing like he was. Was that why they ignored me?
Or maybe they didn't know. That was probably it; I was just some stupid orphan kid that played pranks on them. I wasn't a genius like Sasuke from a amazing clan, so they ignored me. Didn't explain why some of them glared at me, but that could just be because I've pranked so many of them to get their attention, that they've really come to hate me.
I was no genius. But according to the Hokage, everyone outside of Konoha really hated my dad, and my mom too, I guess. Both of them were dead, and the old man had lied when he had told me he didn't know who they were. I had trusted him, and he just let me continue on, instead of pushing me to train he let me mess around and do what I wanted.
Did he not want me to be strong? Did he want me to die?
No. I couldn't believe that. The old man cared about me. Enough that he didn't want me to go with that Jiraiya guy out of the village where I could be killed. Maybe he didn't push me so I wouldn't draw attention to myself? That made more sense. If I was just the dead last, no one would care to even look at who my parents were. There would be no way that I could be the son of a Hokage. Hiding in plain sight. It was a good idea, but what happened if I actually did become a ninja? Wouldn't I have to leave the village on missions?
So I could be recognized. Recognized and killed. What was the old man thinking then? I want to be a ninja, but I don't want to die!
The familiar creak of my apartment's door reminded me that I was home. It was a small penthouse place in an apartment full of Chuunin and Jounin shinobi. None of them had families, and I had to wonder now if the old man let me move from the orphanage to here for my protection. It was like a little base of safety, every other floor was filled with potential guards if some assassin ninja type came to kill me.
Aw jeez, everything kept leading back to that. I didn't want to die. So the best idea then would be to get serious and train my ass off, right? I was the son of a great Hokage. That meant I couldn't be a total failure… but where to start?
I collapsed on my bed with a groan of frustration. Ten year olds could get pretty bad headaches, I was proof of that. Whenever I thought a lot about something, I got headaches. It was one of the reasons I tried not to think about stuff to much, unless I thought it was important. Looking back on it now, the way I lived my life left me pretty carefree. I avoided thinking about things too much.
Maybe that was the wrong way to go about it? Maybe I was thinking about this the wrong way. Wasn't one of the greatest skills a ninja could have was deception? Ninja were supposed to hide their skills, be devious, Iruka told that to us over and over. Hell, even I remembered him saying it. The academy forced us to show our skills off every day though, not that I had much to show.
That… could be the answer. With a pounding head, and a half resolved problem, I drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow would be the first day I would wake up with a purpose greater than pulling pranks and thinking of ways to get Sakura to go out with me, or for getting everyone to acknowledge me.
Deception… tomorrow would be the first day of the rest of my life, as a real ninja.
111
Before my alarm clock could blare for more than half a second, I had gently tapped a fist atop it and woke up, immediately taking in my surroundings. A ninja always needed to be aware of what was happening around him. It was one of the many rules in the Shinobi Code.
Paranoid, maybe. Still, learning to keep a focused mind when I was sleeping had helped me wake up when the Mist assassin had come for me a little less than a year and a half ago, and I had actually tussled with the Rock spy for a few moments, that had come not long after the last assassin. The ANBU took him down like all the rest before the fight could get serious. It made me wonder how many of those attempts I had slept through over the years. The silent watchers seemed to be outside my home at night, although they disappeared during the day while I went out.
It made me wonder about the old man. My last assassin had been a Rock ninja, a secret spy, but it was guaranteed she had been passing information about me to her village. Otherwise she wouldn't be a very useful spy. Didn't that mean that the Rock already knew I was alive? The son of the Fourth Hokage, despite my best attempts at concealment in plain view? Not for the first time, I wished that I had gotten my mom's hair color. Yellow just stuck out to much for a ninja.
I half snorted at the irony of that, considering I was getting dressed in the most garish outfit on the planet. Bright orange and blue, perfect for the class clown trying to get attention. I had come to like the colors over the years, but still, my disciplined inner thoughts had other things to say about what my wardrobe should look like.
You would think it would be easy, holding back. Being a ninja and acting a clown… sometimes I wanted to rip the hair out of my head in frustration. You know how tough it is to disappear in stealth training while wearing orange? It's impossible, especially when you add in sunkissed hair into the mix. Still, if I wanted to, I could get top marks in stealth at the academy, but I don't do anything well if I'm graded on it.
People don't think much of me, but just because I wear orange and have the brightest hair on the planet doesn't mean I can't hide them in two seconds flat. Flip the pants and jacket, toss a black beanie on, and suddenly no one can recognize you from the shmuck next to you.
My breakfast was a quick granola bar and water, not exactly the healthiest meal, but I couldn't cook for the life of me, especially with my temperamental gas stove and fridge. It didn't help that the vendors tried to foist their half spoiled 'fresh' food on me for full price. I mean, I know I was just an annoying orphan to them, but jeez… it had been years since I painted the entire market blue, shouldn't they have forgotten it by now? People in this village seemed to hold long grudges.
I still pull pranks, if only as an outlet of frustration and façade, but I try not to shit where I eat anymore. That means no pranking the shinobi supply stores, the academy, my apartment building, and the market. I rationalized that I shouldn't piss off the people selling me stuff. It seemed like a good plan, even two years ago.
Yet I'm still eating shit. How is that for gratitude? If I didn't hold on to the lame fading hope that they would treat me a little better for leaving them alone, I would probably prank the hell out of their asses. Shinobi were supposed to be emotionless, but that didn't stop me from keeping a mental tally of all the people who had screwed me over, over the years. Atop that list were Mizuki, one of the teachers at the academy who seemed to have it in for me, and Jiraiya of the Sannin, who was apparently my godfather but couldn't be bothered to stay in Konoha to teach me a trick or two. Maybe tell me who my daddy was, make me feel all good inside.
Yeah, I could be bitter as well. If you had no one to talk to, and spent your days training in secret to one day fight all the fights your father left for you, you would be bitter too.
I walked through the streets like I normally did, all smiles and practically bouncing. Today was a special day for any young academy student, it was graduation day. Of course, no one smiled back at me, and most just ignored me. The glares were there as well of course, but I could brush those aside without much problem after all these years.
I paused at the front yard of the academy, feeling a quiet headache stirring in the back of my thoughts. A smooth, practiced gesture swept a pill from one of my many side pouches and I deposited the aspirin and swallowed without missing another step as I entered through the academy's double doors. Over the last few years, I had taken many of the small white pills, using the prescription that the doctor at the hospital had given me after Iruka took me in after I complained about the chronic headaches that plagued me.
Apparently it really wasn't normal for a ten year old to get headaches. The medics couldn't explain them, but they were there, especially when I thought too hard. That seemed to really trigger them, although they popped up at random sometimes. The pills had helped a lot, enough to get me through anything that required me to actually think. Over the last few months, the headaches had dulled a lot. This was the first one I had gotten in over a week, and I wondered if I was losing one of the only constants in my life.
Pondering this, I entered the classroom, and saw that only a few students were seated already. I spotted the stoic Uchiha, most likely to be Rookie of the Year, sitting near to the front with an empty seat next to him. His fangirls were late to arrive today, apparently. I plopped down next to him and gave him a wide grin.
"What's up, bastard!" I said, loudly, on purpose. Predictably, Sasuke didn't respond, only turning his head to glare at me as a means of acknowledgement, and not a good one.
Ah well. I had long since given up on getting Sasuke, or anyone else in my class to see me as anything more than a clown. Less than half a year ago, I had cautiously reached out and tricked Sasuke into letting me hit him in a spar. The boy had been shocked, but immediately dismissed it as a fluke. The rest of the class, especially the Uchiha's fangirls, had been quick to agree. Even Iruka warned me not to get too cocky. I had slipped a textbook trick into an otherwise terrible taijutsu skill set, and no one had noticed a thing, not even the teacher. Obviously unless I screamed about my progress to the world, no one was going to notice that I was no fool.
Good. That was fine with me, for now.
It had taken me a very, very, very long time to find and correct all the mistakes that Mizuki had 'accidentally' made while tutoring me in taijutsu, as he had to do with all students who didn't have a family style. Without Iruka-sensei, I probably would have never found any of them. Mizuki denied everything of course, the lying, conniving bastard. Iruka believed him, but I knew that was just because the teacher was too nice, and too trusting.
The man honestly still believed I was a dead last, after all. Even after all that extra help I pleaded for him to give me over these last few years. Then again, I pretended to fail horribly, or to make marginal progress any time he taught me anything, so… I guess maybe it was justified. I'm surprised he didn't give up on me after half a year. The only real success I had ever shown while Iruka taught me was when he taught me how to read. It had been the first thing I had ever asked him. For once, I didn't just declare reading below me, or help below me, and actually asked for assistance.
The teacher's aide at the time had waived me off, saying that I couldn't get special treatment (like I didn't see him fawning over Sasuke earlier, to help him), but Iruka hadn't denied me. When the teacher saw how atrocious my reading and writing really were, he seemed to finally understand that I wasn't half-assing my assignments and tests all the time, I really couldn't do them. Just like when I tried to learn on my own, the headaches began to pop up, but Iruka had found a solution for that, in the form of aspirin. It really made me realize that asking for help wasn't always a bad thing, and never a reason to be ashamed. People knew stuff that I didn't know. I wanted to know that stuff, if it was useful, so I should definitely ask.
School became a lot easier once I knew how to read and write like a normal kid (I think I'm a little better than normal now, but I don't tell anyone that.) It became easy to jump from a failure on all my assignments to a steadily passing student. I wasn't taking the world by storm with my knowledge of obscure dates like Sakura, but I never wanted to be known as a brainiac anyways. Now that I could actually understand what they were talking about, and not trying to piece together knowledge based on the words I understood, battle tactics and chakra theory became a lot more interesting. History was still a bore, but being able to recite the Second Hokage's first wife's name probably wouldn't save me in the field, anyways.
"MOVE, NARUTO!"
Ah.
Aha.
How did I know this was coming?
I turned to face a steaming Haruno Sakura, grinning widely as if the love of my life was standing in front of me. With shockingly pink hair and large forehead, Sakura and I would probably make quite a pair as a couple. Would the blond and pink mix? Or would one dominate? Did it even matter?
The chances that Haruno and I would get together were slim to none, any attraction I had for her was buried by my disgust. Sakura was arguably many times smarter than Sasuke, the resident class 'genius,' but she refused to acknowledge the fact that she might have to actually train to become a ninja. Then again, it seemed to be a common trait with the girls in the class.
"MOVE!"
Doing the easiest thing and feigning fear, I gave up the seat, "A-All yours, Sakura-chan." I said, putting the appropriate stammer in, "Hey, do you want to go out for ramen later? My treat!" I tossed it in, sounding hopeful.
She predictably growled and threatened me with a fist, which I quickly moved away from, heading to another seat. Sakura forgot about me to talk Sasuke's ear off, and I shuffled over to sit by the ever quiet and shy Hyuuga Hinata. The girl predictably blushed and looked away from me, and I predictably pretended to have no idea what that meant.
I didn't bother trying to get Hinata to talk to me. It was flattering, once I realized she had a crush on me. But at the same time, it annoyed me, because Hinata didn't know the real me, just an idiot who wore orange and pulled stupid pranks. Why would she like that kid, anyways? Frankly, that guy was retarded. Her admiration of my mask left me conflicted, and the fact that anytime I tried to talk to her, she would just blush, stammer, or faint. Sometimes all three. Where did that leave me in this relationship?
The princess, the clown, and the secret ninja. Sounded like a cheesy plot that they would base a movie off of.
Playing third wheel to Hinata and my idiot persona didn't appeal to me, especially when there were more important things to work hard at achieving. For instance, although I could pretend I didn't know how to fight, or speak, or ace tests, I couldn't hide the fact that I had huge chakra reserves. It was the first thing Iruka ever listed when he told me about my so called 'good' ninja qualities. I didn't have to pretend that my chakra control sucked. It took me more tries than I could ever begin to count to learn how to do Kawarimi and Henge. Bunshin took even longer, although it was supposedly the easiest one to master after you have a good mental image of yourself.
I couldn't use the clone jutsu without making ten copies of myself at least, and that was when I struggled, and concentrated, standing in one spot for half a minute to make sure I kept the raging flow of my reserves back, and keeping the mental image of myself in my head. Bunshin weren't meant to be split up into more than ten or twenty at a time. It was too difficult for an academy student to maintain the illusion, unless they had great chakra control or were unusually skilled at genjutsu. I was neither, but I was trying to hide myself and not stand out. Producing ten clones is definitely standing out, especially when someone like Sakura would probably collapse in exhaustion from making that many at one time.
In class, I've never produced a proper clone. I slam chakra into the technique and get my one dead looking clone every time, and I'm happy with that. I even laugh along with the class while they make fun of my ridiculous attempts. That Naruto, what a fool, thinking he can be Hokage when he can't even make a clone.
Well, it is pretty funny from an outsider's perspective, I guess. I don't really care, I know I'm not the clown they think I am.
For such an exciting day, it started off boring as hell. Iruka-sensei came in and gave us a droning lecture about how important the day was, and how if we passed, we would become shinobi of the great Leaf village. I could practically see the stars in my classmates' eyes, thinking about the glorious life that awaited them outside the boring academy. Even Sasuke had an unhealthy gleam in his eye. Only Shino seemed to have any stoicism, and Shikamaru was asleep.
I was bouncing in my seat, literally. "Hurry up with the test, sensei!" I predictably said, impatient to begin, "This is just one more step on the road to Hokage!"
My classmates jeered silently, and Iruka, of course, scolded me for my immaturity. Still, the written exams were passed out immediately afterwards. Sometimes being an idiot can work to my advantage, although most of the time it's just a bother. Win some, lose some, I guess.
I struggled through the written. Was that a good enough answer, or too good? What would be just enough to get by? My history was not as good as my knowledge of chakra and battle tactics, so I had to balance that out. I was the last one to finish the test, letting out a groan of frustration as Mizuki instantly took it from me when the allotted time ran out.
"I forgot my name!" I shouted, and the silver haired man rolled his eyes, but after a look from Iruka, handed it back to me, and I scrawled my messy signature across the top. Mizuki took it back once more, giving me another look of distaste, to which I maturely stuck my tongue out and made the 'neener neener' sound in response.
"Naruto! Show some respect for Mizuki as your sensei!"
Like I didn't see that coming. I shifted my scowl towards Iruka, looking pouty as I slumped back into my seat. Silently, as the tests were passed off to several teachers and aides to grade, I hoped that I had done enough to pass. If I failed the written, it could be bad for me. I had purposely tanked the last two graduation exams that were given at the end of the year, so unlike my fellow hopefuls, my spot as a genin wasn't guaranteed by just passing most of the sections. I had to at least scrape by on all of them or get kicked from the program.
I was probably the only student in academy history who ever aspired to become dead last (although I wondered about Shikamaru sometimes). Dead last was such a safe spot, because no one expected anything from you. Even when I showed flashes of brilliance, whether it was in taijutsu, weapon throwing, stealth, or answering questions in class, no one made much of it. It was just the dead last getting lucky. That title held power in it, it made people look past you, underestimate you.
I just have a gut feeling that it's going to keep me alive. But if I want to be a ninja, learning on my own was never going to be enough. I needed a sensei that could give me more time than Iruka had. A Jounin sensei, who would teach me all the stuff that Iruka wasn't allowed to, such as a clone technique that wasn't bunshin. Maybe learn a style that wasn't the academy's over predictable one without standing out.
Stealth was a breeze, because I knew exactly when I needed to get caught to pass. After three minutes of letting Mizuki walk around scratching his head looking for me, I 'tripped,' over a branch and was quickly discovered soon after. I even made the arguable case that Mizuki had placed the branch there under a genjutsu to make me fail on purpose.
Well, it was arguable in my head, at least.
"Naruto! You're up."
Ah, weapons. It was another easy one to just pass. I resisted to urge to get five perfect bulls-eyes and five wide misses with my kunai and shuriken, instead I spread them out to hit close to the targets, but not quite. I couldn't resist hitting one perfect bulls-eye in the middle, just to prove to myself that I could.
I will not argue against the fact that I am slightly vane. And insane.
Hey, that rhymed. If I was inane, then I would be a trifecta of sorts, but I don't know what inane means, so let's just leave it at a twofer. Difecta, maybe?
I chattered my way through the wait we had to go through before the last test. We had all piled into one room while a single student at a time went into the next room and performed the jutsu that they were requested to perform. I hoped it was Kawarimi, or even Henge. I knew I could BS my way through those two to just pass. I was nervous, and it showed in my voice, I think. The others only made a halfhearted attempt to shut me up, probably because they were nervous as well. I didn't really understand why, considering all of my classmates could perform the Basic Three in their sleep. They didn't share my worries, right?
Then again, maybe we're all just deceiving each other? It was food for thought, unlikely as it may be. Maybe I wasn't the only one hiding my true self. Maybe Sakura secretly was a taijutsu expert, or Ino could kill a man with her hair. Maybe Sasuke was secretly a jounin already with a fully realized Sharingan.
Maybe Shikamaru was a secret genius who just slept through class.
My train of thought paused there; I glanced at the snoozing Nara, that was actually pretty plausible when I thought about it. Shikamaru sometimes showed flashes of brilliance too.
More than two dozen happy classmates exited the room with their headbands, before I had my turn. I hate being an Uzumaki sometimes. Then again if I was a Namikaze I would probably be dead by now, ANBU protection or otherwise. It was probably for the best that I had my mom's family name.
I stepped into the next room, suitably nervous as Iruka and Mizuki stared me down. Iruka was shuffling through papers, which I recognized to be our exams. The scarred Chuunin briefly paused to look at one, before smiling at me.
"Not bad, Naruto!"
Damn.
"An acceptable score." Iruka nodded to me, "You must have studied hard to catch up on all the practical knowledge, I'm impressed! You must really want this headband, huh?" The man gestured at one of the few remaining shiny forehead protectors left on the table, all with the Konoha emblem gleaming at me, almost taunting in their brilliance.
"Y-Yeah…" I let out a weak chuckle, not sounding at all like my usual self. Inwardly I was berating myself for doing too well on the exam. Obviously I had scared myself into answering a few questions too well. It was alright, as long as I could make it up here doing Kawarimi or Henge poorly-
"Naruto, please perform the standard Bunshin jutsu."
Double damn. I slowly raised my fingers up in the common seal for bunshin. I had a choice, if I failed here, I might be able to wheedle the Hokage into letting me back into the academy for a repeat year… or I could perform the technique.
It wasn't even an argument, patience and deception be damned, I couldn't stand another year of the academy if I got paid to do it. After a half a minute of deep concentration, I said slowly, "Bunshin no Jutsu."
Ten perfect clones stared warily at each other, and at the teachers sitting at the desk in front of them. Both Iruka and Mizuki traded surprised glances, although Mizuki seemed more shocked than anything.
"Very good, Naruto!" Iruka said, smiling broadly. "It was a little slow, true, but I know you've struggled with this technique. Ten clones is remarkable progress! Exceptional even!"
Exceptional. Oh dear. Iruka had never called me that before, with good reason.
I nodded, giving a shaky grin. I hoped that they would pass it off as nervousness; I should probably be jumping around right now screaming about how I want to be Hokage or something.
"Iruka, it took him over half a minute to perform the technique." Mizuki found his voice and argued, which didn't surprise me, "Plus his other scores are abysmal at best."
"Nonsense." Iruka replied dismissively, his hand wrapping around a headband, "Naruto has tried his hardest the past few years to do better. Clearly he has shown a great amount of improvement." The man glanced down at my grades for the examination before saying brightly, "Naruto, I think with these scores, you aren't even the dead last!"
Triple damn. I took the headband and covered my wince up with a wide grin, managing to spout off a line about how a Hokage could never be the dead last.
Heh, triple damn. A damned trifecta. That was me.
Shit, I can't even fail correctly.
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My first attempt at a first person, go easy on me? It's not edited either, and I know the idea isn't exactly original. If people show interest, I'll continue and go back and edit.
For the headaches, I'm working on the premise that SharperV establishes in Time Braid, that Kyuubi's chakra intermingling with Naruto's had an effect on his psyche when he was younger. Its stabilizing, so the headaches are going away. When Naruto thought, he got headaches because chakra flow increased to the brain. Just a theory, but if there is one thing I dislike about Naruto is that sometimes he really is that stupid. I honestly think part of it has to be not enough love as a child. No joke, that shit can really eff up your mental development. I took a class and everything so I know that stuff and stuff.
Yeah… review?
