–Chapter 1-
-The Spark of Curiosity–
Konoha was alive with energy as the children filed out of the Ninja Academy for the day, their laughter and shouts filling the air like the chiming of distant bells. The streets were bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun, casting long shadows from the tall buildings that made up the heart of the village. Everywhere Narumi looked, people were bustling—shinobi rushing off to missions, shopkeepers closing up for the day, and parents walking hand in hand with their children. The village felt full of life, brimming with warmth and community.
But Narumi Uzumaki walked alone, her small feet kicking up dust as she dragged them across the dirt path. She watched the other kids from her class gather into their usual groups, chatting excitedly about their lessons, about what they'd do when they got home. A small knot formed in her stomach, but it was a familiar feeling by now.
No one ever invited her.
Narumi lingered near the edge of the Academy grounds, her bright blue eyes scanning the cheerful faces around her. Why couldn't she be part of that? She watched as Sakura Haruno and Ino Yamanaka whispered to each other before breaking out into laughter. Even Kiba Inuzuka, always loud and brash, was surrounded by a group of boys, all trying to pet his little dog, Akamaru. Everywhere she looked, there was camaraderie. But none of it was for her.
Narumi sighed, her shoulders sagging under the weight of the orange jacket, which hung loosely off her small frame. It was a hand-me-down from the Hokage, and though it was too big—far too big for her five-year-old body—she clung to it like a lifeline. At least this was mine, she thought as she tugged at the sleeves.
She kept walking, kicking a small pebble along the way. Every time the stone bounced against the ground, the whispers around her seemed to grow louder in her head.
"That's the Demon brat."
"Stay away from her. She's dangerous."
Narumi winced at the memory. It didn't matter that no one was whispering those words out loud right now—they lived rent-free in her mind, echoing endlessly. She didn't have to understand everything to know why people looked at her with suspicion, why they crossed the street when she walked by. It wasn't just her whisker-like birthmarks or her loud, fiery personality that made her stand out. No, there was something more, something she couldn't quite grasp yet but felt the weight of all the same.
People hated her, though she still didn't understand why.
And it wasn't just her imagination. Narumi had overheard the adults thought they were being subtle, but Narumi had overheard them on more than one occasion, their whispered words cutting through her like a blade. Demon. Monster. Stay away from her. They assumed she was too young to notice, too naïve to understand, but she wasn't. Not anymore.
She didn't know what she'd done to deserve their glares, or why they sometimes called her a "demon brat." But it hurt. Even if she didn't have all the answers yet, Narumi could feel the weight of their hate.
The path home took her near the old park on the edge of the village, a place where she sometimes liked to sit by herself when the loneliness grew too heavy. The tall trees lined the border like silent sentinels, their branches swaying gently in the wind. A group of older shinobi sparred in the distance, but Narumi didn't pay them much attention.
Instead, something else caught her eye—a small piece of paper fluttering across the ground. At first glance, it looked like any ordinary piece of litter, blown about by the wind. But as it swirled closer, tumbling along the dirt path, Narumi noticed something strange. There were markings on it. Intricate, swirling patterns of symbols she had seen somewhere before. They sparked a memory from one of her lessons at the Academy.
Her heart quickened.
Narumi bent down, her small hands reaching for the paper. As her fingers brushed against it, she felt a sudden pulse of chakra—a violent surge that sent a shockwave rippling through the air. The paper glowed with a fierce red light, the ground trembling beneath her.
Narumi stumbled back, her eyes widening in shock. She recognized the glowing symbols now. It was a paper bomb.
Her first instinct was to run—every muscle screamed at her to flee. Yet, something held her in place, not fear, but curiosity. It wasn't fear. No, it was something else—something far more powerful than fear.
She had seen paper bombs before at the Academy. The instructors had briefly mentioned them in one of their lessons, though they didn't go into much detail. The only thing Narumi knew for sure was that they exploded. That was the extent of her knowledge—paper bombs were dangerous, and you stayed far away from them if you wanted to avoid being blown to bits.
But now, as she stared at the glowing seal in front of her, something about it drew her in. The symbols weren't just random scribbles—they meant something. She could almost… read them.
It was curiosity.
She stared at the glowing seal, the red light flickering ominously, but instead of panicking, her mind began to work. The symbols weren't just random lines and squiggles. Each stroke had a purpose. Every curve, every angle, they all fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Narumi didn't know how or why, but the longer she stared at the seal, the more it started to make sense.
The seal was alive with chakra, humming with energy, but it wasn't chaotic. There was a rhythm to it, a pattern that Narumi could almost feel beneath her skin. The lines seemed to call out to her, asking to be understood.
Her heart pounded in her chest, but not from fear. No, this was excitement. Could she control it?
Without thinking, Narumi reached out again, her fingers moving over the symbols, tracing the patterns with a careful precision. Her hand shook slightly, but she pressed on, her eyes narrowing in concentration. She didn't fully understand what she was doing, but her instincts guided her. With each stroke, she felt the chakra shift beneath her touch.
And then, slowly, the red glow began to dim. The violent hum of chakra softened, and the trembling of the ground subsided.
Within seconds, the bomb was completely deactivated.
Narumi sat back on her heels, panting, her hands trembling as she stared at the paper bomb in disbelief. She had stopped it. The dangerous energy was gone, fizzled out into nothing. The once-glowing paper now lay limp in her hands, harmless.
A slow grin spread across her face. She had done it.
"I… I stopped it," she whispered to herself, her voice filled with awe. I did it.
The thrill of what she had just accomplished surged through her like electricity. Narumi quickly stuffed the deactivated paper bomb into her jacket pocket, her mind spinning with a thousand questions and possibilities. If she could deactivate a paper bomb, what else could she do? What other secrets did these seals hold?
She couldn't wait to tell the Hokage.
Later that night, in the quiet of her small, dimly lit apartment, Narumi sat cross-legged on her bed, the deactivated paper bomb resting on her knees. The day's events had left her mind buzzing, and the stillness of the night only seemed to amplify the thoughts racing through her head.
The village outside was silent, but inside her apartment, the energy was anything but. Her bright blue eyes were locked on the paper bomb, the intricate symbols etched into its surface practically calling out to her. These weren't just random markings—they meant something.
She remembered what she'd learned in the Academy. The basic principle behind explosions was simple. In order to make something explode, you needed a flammable substance, a source of ignition, and something to contain the force of the blast until it could be released. That was how regular bombs worked, right? But this—this was different.
Narumi stared hard at the paper, her small brow furrowed in concentration. How could something like this explode? It was just a piece of paper, after all. There was nothing flammable, no fuse or spark to ignite it. So why did it have the power to unleash such destruction?
The answer, she realized, was chakra. It was the one thing that made everything in the ninja world work. The same energy that allowed people to perform jutsu, to heal wounds, and even to walk on water—chakra was the ignition. But it was more than just a tool for power; it seemed to blend with the symbols, almost like a conversation between energy and ink. And somehow, these strokes on the paper could turn that energy into something deadly.
But why?
Narumi's curiosity spiked as her mind leapt ahead, teeming with questions. What if it wasn't just the chakra? What if the real secret was in the symbols themselves? Could they be manipulated—changed, even—like how different words in a sentence changed the meaning of a conversation?
Her fingers moved toward the paper bomb again, her heart racing with excitement. She channeled a small thread of chakra into it, just like she had earlier that day. Instantly, the symbols flickered to life, glowing a faint red as they began to hum with volatile energy. But instead of being afraid, Narumi's curiosity only deepened.
She studied the seal closely, trying to see beyond the surface. She knew what it did—she had deactivated it earlier. But how did it work? What if she altered it? Changed the way her chakra flowed into the seal? Would it react differently? Could it explode in a new way or not at all?
Her heart pounded in her chest as she considered the possibilities. Could a seal be more than just a bomb?
The red glow of the symbols reflected in her wide eyes as she experimented, carefully adjusting the way she melded her chakra into the paper. The seal pulsed in response, flickering like a candle caught in a breeze. She could feel the subtle shifts in its energy—how just a slight variation in the flow of chakra changed the behavior of the seal.
"How can this happen?" Narumi whispered to herself, her excitement growing. "This is just a symbol… but it can explode. It's not fire or oil. It's just… a drawing." Her voice was quiet but filled with awe, as though she had stumbled upon something that defied everything she knew about how the world worked.
She activated the seal again, allowing the chakra to pulse through it, letting it hum dangerously in her hands. She should have been scared, but she wasn't. This wasn't fear—it was fascination.
Narumi played with the seal, activating and deactivating it over and over, each time adjusting the flow of chakra just a little bit. The changes were subtle, but she could feel them—how the seal responded to her energy, almost as though it were alive. She began to wonder: What if I drew different symbols? What if I changed the strokes or combined them in new ways?
Her fingers hovered over the glowing lines, her thoughts racing. Would it still explode? Would it do something else?
The possibilities seemed endless, and it was exhilarating. Narumi's eyes shone with excitement as she played with the paper bomb, watching as it lit up, fizzled, and then went silent again under her control. How far could this go? She couldn't stop herself from thinking about how different arrangements of symbols might produce different results—what if she could make it do something other than explode? What if she could make it heal, trap, or even reshape reality itself?
Her mind swirled with questions. She wanted to test every idea, to push the limits of what these symbols—these seals—could do.
The hours ticked by, but Narumi barely noticed. The moonlight that filtered through her window shifted as the night deepened, casting long shadows on the walls of her small room. She sat there, her jacket still on, her fingers tracing the patterns on the paper bomb as if they were the key to unlocking the greatest secrets of the world.
At one point, she almost laughed aloud, the giddiness bubbling up inside her as she realized just how much potential this held. She wasn't scared of the paper bomb anymore. No, it felt like she was learning its language—like she was the one in control.
Her excitement only grew as she continued to experiment, activating and deactivating the bomb over and over, the process becoming second nature to her. She had mastered the art of stopping it, but now she wanted more.
She barely slept that night, her thoughts too consumed by the potential of seals. The bed creaked beneath her as she shifted positions, holding the paper bomb close, her eyes scanning the symbols over and over, as though the answers were hidden in the delicate strokes of ink.
What if there's no limit to what seals can do? The thought sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but grin at the idea. If she could master this, she could change everything. She could be more than just the "Demon brat" or the outcast of the village. She could be powerful.
By the time dawn began to creep through the window, Narumi was still wide awake, her fingers tracing the symbols one last time before carefully tucking the paper bomb back into her jacket pocket. She had no idea what the full extent of her abilities with seals could be, but she was determined to find out.
"I can't wait to tell Hokage-jiji," she whispered to herself, a wide smile spreading across her face. She would march straight into his office and show him what she had done. This wasn't just a discovery—it was the start of something incredible. Something that no one, not even the shinobi of Konoha, had ever seen before.
And she was going to be the one to unlock it.
As Narumi tucked the deactivated paper bomb back into her jacket, she paused, staring up at the ceiling of her small apartment. The adrenaline still pulsed through her veins, but it wasn't just the excitement of what she had done. It was something deeper, something she couldn't quite put into words.
Why was she so drawn to this? Why had the sight of the paper bomb's seal lit something inside of her? It felt like more than just curiosity—it was as though a missing piece of herself had finally clicked into place. The symbols, the chakra, the way it all worked together… it made sense to her in a way nothing else ever had.
It was as if the seals were calling to her, as if they held the answers to something she didn't even know she was searching for. It was more than just a fascination. This was something she felt in her bones. Her heart raced again at the thought—maybe this was what she was meant to do.
"Why am I so curious about this?" she whispered, her fingers brushing over her jacket pocket where the paper bomb rested. "Why does it feel like… like I'm supposed to know this?"
She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. There had to be a reason why she was so drawn to this, why it felt like second nature when she saw those symbols. What if this was what she was meant to do? What if understanding seals, unlocking their secrets, was her life's purpose?
The thought made her heart pound with excitement and a little bit of fear. But mostly excitement. She knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning.
"I'm going to figure this out," she muttered to herself, her determination hardening. "No matter what it takes."
Her eyes gleamed with the kind of ambition she hadn't felt before. For the first time in her life, she had something she wanted to strive for. Something that was hers. Not because of the whispers that followed her around the village, but because she had chosen it. She would uncover the mysteries of the seals and maybe, just maybe, find out who she really was along the way.
With that thought, Narumi closed her eyes, her mind still buzzing with the possibilities of what the future could hold.
The early morning sun painted Konoha in soft, golden hues as Narumi made her way to the Academy. The air was crisp, and the streets were just beginning to fill with life. Normally, Narumi would have been bursting with energy, eager to shout about her latest dream or boast about becoming Hokage one day. But today, her mind was elsewhere, her usual liveliness turned inward.
She couldn't stop thinking about the paper bomb.
As she hurried along the path, her fingers absently brushed against the pocket of her oversized orange jacket, where the deactivated bomb was tucked safely away. Seals. The symbols on the paper bomb, the way they glowed, the surge of chakra she had felt—it all kept replaying in her mind. How had she known how to stop it? Why did those symbols make sense to her when they shouldn't have?
Her curiosity burned inside her, stronger than ever. She couldn't wait to ask the Hokage about it. He would know, wouldn't he? He always seemed to know everything. Narumi's steps quickened as she thought about it, her excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. She could barely sit still, her mind racing with questions and possibilities.
By the time she reached the Academy, the other students were already gathering outside, laughing and chatting as they prepared for another day of training. Narumi slipped through the crowd, unnoticed for once. Her eyes were fixed ahead, and her usual loud, attention-seeking antics were nowhere to be seen. She was too busy thinking about the seals, about the symbols, and what they meant.
As she entered the classroom, she barely acknowledged the noise around her. Her classmates were in their usual groups—Ino and Sakura bickering about something near the front, Kiba bragging about Akamaru's latest trick, while Sasuke sat by the window, staring out at nothing, ignoring the small group of girls who hovered nearby, whispering and giggling.
Narumi dropped into her seat near the back, right by the window, her fingers drumming restlessly against the desk. She stared out at the village beyond, her thoughts racing too fast for her to notice the usual classroom chatter. Her mind was consumed by the paper bomb, by the seals. What were they? How did they work? She couldn't shake the feeling that she had stumbled upon something important—something bigger than she realized.
At the front of the class, Iruka-sensei's voice droned on, explaining the lesson, but Narumi wasn't listening. Her mind was too occupied. She wanted to know more, to understand why the symbols on the bomb had seemed so clear to her. How could something like that hold so much power? And why did it feel like she could control it?
From across the room, Shikamaru Nara leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting lazily toward Narumi. He didn't say anything—he never really talked much unless it was necessary—but he noticed things. And today, he noticed something strange: Narumi was quiet. Too quiet.
Normally, she was the loudest in class, always seeking attention, always talking about how she'd be Hokage one day. But today, she sat by the window, lost in thought, her fingers tapping nervously against the desk. Something was different. It was as if she had something on her mind, something that made her restless. But Shikamaru wasn't one to pry. He simply shrugged to himself and turned his gaze back to the ceiling, filing away the observation for later.
Kiba, on the other hand, was not so observant.
"Hey, freak!"
Narumi's head snapped up at the sound of Kiba's voice. He was leaning back in his seat, grinning at her from across the room, Akamaru curled up in his lap. A few of the other boys snickered, watching to see how she'd react.
"Why do you always wear that ugly jacket?" Kiba continued, his grin widening. "Doesn't it even fit you?"
Narumi frowned, pulling the jacket tighter around herself, sinking a little lower in her seat. Normally, she would have fired back with a sharp retort, made a scene, drawn all the attention to herself. But today, her mind was too full of other things. Her heart was still racing with the excitement of her discovery, the possibilities of what she had learned. She wasn't in the mood to waste energy on Kiba.
She ignored him.
Kiba huffed, clearly annoyed that he didn't get the reaction he wanted, but Narumi didn't care. Her mind was already elsewhere again, thinking about the paper bomb, about the seals. The symbols were like a puzzle, one she was itching to solve. What if she could learn more? What if she could make her own seals?
The bell rang, and Narumi stood up quickly, eager to get out of the classroom. Her fingers twitched with impatience as she thought about her next move. She had to talk to the Hokage. He would know what to do. He would help her understand what these seals were and what they could do.
She shot a quick glance at Shikamaru, who was still lounging in his seat, watching her quietly. He didn't say anything, but his eyes followed her as she made her way toward the door. Narumi gave him a small nod before darting out of the room, her mind already racing ahead.
She didn't know exactly what she had discovered yet, but she was sure of one thing: This was just the beginning.
The Hokage's office was a towering building that stood at the heart of Konoha, its walls lined with scrolls and books, relics of the village's long history. Narumi loved visiting the Hokage, not just because he was kind to her, but because his office felt important. It was a place where decisions were made, where missions were assigned, and where the legacy of Konoha was written.
She stood nervously in front of the door, her heart pounding in her chest. Would the Hokage be mad at her for bringing a paper bomb to his office? Would he think she was being reckless? Narumi swallowed hard and raised her hand to knock, hesitating for just a moment before finally rapping her knuckles against the door.
"Come in," came the familiar voice from inside.
Narumi pushed the door open, stepping into the room. The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, sat behind his massive desk, his pipe in hand and a gentle smile on his face as he looked up at her. Despite his old age, there was a sharpness in his eyes, a quiet strength that reminded everyone why he was called the Professor.
"Narumi," he greeted warmly. "What brings you here today?"
Narumi shifted nervously from foot to foot, her fingers twisting the fabric of her jacket. "I… I found something," she began, her voice quiet. "Something dangerous."
Hiruzen's expression grew serious at her words, and he set down his pipe, leaning forward slightly. "What did you find?"
Wordlessly, Narumi reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the paper bomb, holding it out for the Hokage to see. His eyes widened slightly as he recognized the dangerous object, but there was no anger or fear in his gaze—only curiosity.
"I deactivated it," Narumi said quickly, before he could ask. "It was glowing red, and it felt like it was about to explode, but… I stopped it. I don't know how, but I did."
Hiruzen's brow furrowed as he studied the paper bomb, his fingers tracing the now-dormant seal. "You deactivated it… without any formal training?" he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and awe.
Narumi nodded, biting her lip. "I just… I don't know, I felt like I understood it. Like I knew how to stop it."
For a long moment, the Hokage was silent, his gaze fixed on the paper bomb in his hand. Finally, he looked up at Narumi, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Tell me, Narumi," he began, his voice gentle, "do you know anything about the Uzumaki clan?"
Narumi blinked, taken aback by the question. She shifted on her feet, suddenly feeling unsure. "Uzumaki… that's just my last name, right?" she replied, her voice small. "I don't really know anything about it. I just thought it was a name they gave me because I'm an orphan." She fidgeted with the sleeves of her jacket, her eyes dropping to the floor. "No one's ever told me otherwise."
Hiruzen sighed softly, his expression tinged with regret. "I see," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "It's unfortunate that no one has explained this to you sooner."
Narumi's head shot up at his words, curiosity and confusion swirling in her eyes. "Explain what?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "What does my name mean?"
The Hokage set the paper bomb down on his desk, folding his hands together as he leaned forward. His gaze softened as he looked at her, a mixture of pride and sadness in his eyes.
"The Uzumaki clan," he began slowly, "were once one of the most powerful and respected clans in the entire shinobi world. They were known for their mastery of sealing techniques—complex jutsu that could control and manipulate chakra in ways that no other clan could replicate. The Uzumakis were feared, but they were also revered for their abilities. Their knowledge of seals was unparalleled, and they were often called upon by other villages for assistance."
Narumi stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. This was all news to her—she had never heard of any of this before. The Uzumaki clan was powerful? Respected? And they could control seals?
"Wait… are you saying I—I'm from that clan?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "But… if they were so powerful, then why don't I know anything about them? Why doesn't anyone talk about them?"
Hiruzen's expression darkened slightly, the weight of old memories casting a shadow over his face. "The Uzumaki clan was feared for their strength, Narumi. And because of that fear, many villages saw them as a threat. Decades ago, several of the major shinobi villages banded together to destroy the Uzumakis and their home, the Village Hidden in the Whirlpools. It was an act of fear, driven by the knowledge that your clan's abilities could tip the balance of power in ways that made others feel vulnerable."
Narumi's throat tightened, and she swallowed hard, trying to process the information. Her clan was… gone? They were wiped out because they were too powerful?
"So… I'm the only one left?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm the last Uzumaki?"
Hiruzen nodded solemnly. "Yes. You are the last known Uzumaki. And because of that, your name holds great significance—far more than you may have realized. The blood of one of the greatest shinobi clans flows within you, Narumi. You have inherited their talents, their strength."
Narumi looked down at her hands, the same hands that had deactivated the bomb just hours before. Her heart raced, not with fear this time, but with something new. Something that felt like hope.
"So… I can learn this?" she asked, her voice filled with cautious excitement. "I can learn about my clan, and how to use seals, just like they did?"
Hiruzen's smile deepened as he reached into a drawer behind his desk, retrieving an old, worn-out book. The cover was faded, its once-vibrant red now dulled by time, but the unmistakable spiral symbol of the Uzumaki clan still stood proudly in the center. He held it out to her with both hands, as though offering something far more valuable than just a mere book.
"This," Hiruzen said, his voice carrying a weight of significance, "is a text on sealing techniques, written by one of your ancestors. Normally, only seasoned ninja, those with years of experience, could even hope to understand the complexity of what's inside."
Narumi's eyes widened, staring at the book like it held all the answers to the mysteries of her life. Her fingers hovered hesitantly over the cover, unsure if she should take it. The thought of mastering such a powerful art filled her with cautious excitement, but also a hint of doubt. Could she really understand something so advanced?
"But…" Hiruzen continued, his eyes twinkling, "I have a feeling that you, Narumi, might be different. After all, it's not every day someone figures out how to deactivate a paper bomb without any formal training. You've already shown a natural talent for seals, one that many ninja never develop."
She looked up at him, her hands finally closing around the book. It felt heavier than she expected, as though it held not just knowledge but the weight of her entire clan's legacy. The old man's words sunk in, and her heart began to race again, though this time with anticipation rather than fear.
"Books about seals are incredibly rare," Hiruzen explained, leaning back in his chair. "The Uzumakis kept their knowledge guarded, and much of it was lost after the fall of your clan. There are very few records left, especially ones this detailed. What you're holding in your hands is a treasure, one that many shinobi in the world would give anything to get their hands on."
Narumi looked down at the book, her thumb gently brushing the edges of its pages. Seals were more than just tools to be used; they were an art, a language of power that only a select few could speak fluently. And now she had a chance to learn them, to truly understand the potential hidden within those symbols that had fascinated her so deeply.
She gulped, a nervous but excited grin forming on her face. "So… you really think I can learn this?"
Hiruzen's eyes softened with pride and hope. "Yes, Narumi. I believe you can. If you're willing to work hard, study, and train, you can not only master these techniques but perhaps even surpass those who came before you. You have the potential to do great things—not just for yourself, but in honor of the Uzumaki name."
Narumi's grip on the book tightened as a fire lit within her. This was it—her chance. Not only to prove herself to the village, but to learn more about her clan, her legacy, and maybe even her parents. This was her path forward, a way to finally take control of her own destiny.
She couldn't wait to get started.
"I'll do it," she said, her voice firm with resolve. "I'll learn everything there is to know about seals. I'll make the Uzumaki name proud."
The Hokage nodded, pride gleaming in his eyes. "I have no doubt that you will, Narumi."
For a moment, there was a warm silence between them, but Narumi's thoughts began to churn once more. If the Hokage knew so much about her clan—about the Uzumakis and what they were capable of—then maybe… maybe he knew more about her past than he had ever told her. Maybe he knew about her parents.
Narumi hesitated, unsure if she should ask, but the question burned inside her, and she couldn't hold it back any longer. She clenched her fists, her voice soft but filled with hope and longing.
"Hokage-jiji… you said the Uzumakis were powerful. But… what about my parents?" She paused, her heart thudding in her chest. "Do you know who they were? What happened to them?"
Hiruzen's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. He glanced away for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully, then looked back at her. His gaze was kind, but there was a heaviness in his eyes.
"Narumi," he said slowly, "your parents… they were remarkable people. Strong. Brave. And they loved you very much." He paused, his eyes searching hers. "But they also had many enemies. And because of that, their identities have been kept secret—for your protection."
Narumi's heart sank. "Enemies?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.
Hiruzen nodded. "Yes. They were important figures, both of them, and revealing their identities too soon could put you in danger. The world is not kind to those with such powerful legacies."
Narumi bit her lip, frustration bubbling up inside her. "But I want to know! I want to know who they were, where I came from. Isn't there anything you can tell me?"
Hiruzen smiled softly, though there was a sadness in it. "I understand, Narumi. And I promise you, one day, you will know the truth." He paused, his gaze sharpening with purpose. "When you become a chunin—when you've grown strong enough to protect yourself and those you care about—I will tell you everything. You will have earned the right to know."
Narumi's eyes widened, her heart skipping a beat. A chunin? That was a long way off. But… it was also a goal. A goal she could work toward. She clenched her fists, determination flaring up inside her once more.
"Alright," she said, her voice firm with resolve. "I'll do it. I'll become a chunin, and then… then you'll tell me about my parents."
Hiruzen nodded, his eyes filled with pride and warmth. "I will. You have my word, Narumi."
Narumi stood a little taller, her heart filled with a mixture of hope, determination, and longing. She didn't just have to master seals—she had to become strong enough to learn the truth about her parents. It wasn't just about the Uzumaki legacy anymore. It was about her legacy. About uncovering the secrets of her past and honoring the memory of the people who had brought her into this world.
As she left the Hokage's office that day, Narumi felt like a new fire had been lit inside her. She wasn't just a lonely girl in a big orange jacket. She was the last Uzumaki, a future master of seals, and the daughter of important, powerful people.
And she was going to make them proud—whoever they were.
As Narumi left the Hokage's office later that day, her mind was buzzing with excitement. She had a gift—a real, tangible gift. Something that set her apart from everyone else. Something that made her special. Because of who she was.
The village could whisper all it wanted. They could call her dangerous, or a freak, or a monster. But Narumi knew the truth now. She was more than just the demon brat.
She was Narumi Uzumaki, and she was going to change the world.
As she walked back toward the Academy, the sun dipping lower in the sky, Narumi felt a strange sense of peace settle over her. For the first time in her life, she didn't feel quite so alone. She didn't need the approval of the villagers, or the attention of her classmates. She didn't need their friendship or their pity.
All she needed was her strength.
And with the power of the Uzumaki clan at her fingertips, Narumi knew she had plenty of that.
This is just the beginning, she thought, her lips curling into a small, determined smile. Just wait and see.
-end-
Note: I want a seal master female Naruto, and this is my first take. This fanfic is inspired by Silver Wolf from HSR. I love Silver Wolf; she is my first limited character, and I won her 50/50, so this is my tribute.