Chapter 10: Secrets, Lies, and Half-Truths or How to Babysit a Five-Year-Old With Trust Issues
As Naruto trudged behind Anko and Kakashi, a cold knot twisted deep inside him, tight and unrelenting. Everything felt off. The world seemed too loud, like a constant buzzing in his ears, each rustle of leaves sharp and intrusive.
Even the scent of damp earth was overwhelming to his enhanced senses, pressing down on him with an almost smothering weight. He could feel it settle on his skin, sticking to him like something he couldn't shake off.
Shadows stretched too long, warping in strange ways, as if the forest itself were watching, shifting to close in around him. The trees seemed to lean closer, dark and twisted, as though something unseen was waiting, just out of sight to pull him into its grasp.
His footsteps thudded against the ground, each impact jarring, echoing the jagged rhythm of his thoughts. The crunch of gravel beneath his feet felt harsh, almost accusing, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something unseen was lurking just out of sight, waiting for him to drop his guard.
His mind, once just a mess of anger and confusion, now churned with something darker. It wasn't just frustration anymore; it was heavier, colder, as if something was buried deep inside him, clawing at the edges of his mind, trying to break free.
He didn't know what it was, but it was there, waiting, seething. Something was wrong, and it wasn't just the world around him.
He felt older--like he'd lived too many years in the few he'd been alive. Each day felt heavy, like carrying a big sack of rocks that weighed him down. It gnawed at him, that weight, making him feel tired in a way that didn't seem right for a kid his age. Why do I feel this way? he wondered, glancing at the adults around him who looked so carefree.
Despite how much Anko and Kakashi tried to shield him from the world outside their control, they always failed. They thought they could protect him by hiding things, carefully choosing their words and plastering on reassuring smiles. But it never worked. He noticed the tension behind their eyes, the way they'd hesitate, pausing just a second too long, as if weighing what to say and what to hold back.
They tried talking over his head, using vague phrases and half-truths, as though he wouldn't catch on. But he saw the way they glanced at each other, the silent looks they shared when they thought he wasn't looking. They assumed he was too young, too naive to understand the things they kept from him.
But they were wrong. He was sharper than they knew, and every time they tried to hide the truth, it only made him more determined to find out what lay beneath the surface.
I'm smarter than they'll ever give me credit for. I might be a kid, but I'm not dumb like the kids they're used to dealing with, he thought snidely. I can feel it every time they speak—the secrets, the lies, the half-truths.
His senses told him things he couldn't put into words, like a shadow lurking just out of sight, waiting for him to discover it. And deep down, he was sure that one day, he would uncover it—uncover whatever everyone was so determined to hide from him. I'll find out what they're hiding from me, he promised himself, a determination only a child could exude growing in his chest.
They refused to tell him the truth about his bloodline, about what made him different, that hidden something that seemed to curl just under his skin, like power waiting to be let out.
And worse, the Hokage had forbidden them from even mentioning it, his guardians slipping up only once or twice before clamping their mouths shut as if they'd already said too much. Did they really think he wouldn't notice? Did they think he wasn't curious?
Of course, he noticed, and it burned. Every time he caught Anko and Kakashi exchanging a look when he asked about his parents or when they dodged his questions about why his eyes glowed purple in a certain light--it only made him want to know more.
They think they have me figured out, he thought, frustration pounding in his chest. But they don't. Not by a long shot. I know there's more. He could feel it—that something they were hiding, something in his blood that made him different. They'll see. I'll find out, even if they won't tell me.
They underestimated him. He wasn't surprised--everyone always underestimated him. To them, he was just a dumb five-year-old, nothing more. The grown-ups looked at him with that same dismissive expression, as if he couldn't possibly understand the world around him.
Depending on how they felt, people either treated him like he was stupid, helpless or ignored him completely, as though he didn't even exist. He'd seen it a hundred times: the way they looked right through him, the way they whispered when they thought he couldn't hear. He wasn't blind, and he wasn't clueless. And he was done with being treated like some brainless kid.
Even if he couldn't explain the why behind it all, he was no fool. One day, he would get answers, and when that day came, their silence wouldn't matter.
Every glance and each whispered word chipped away at his patience, making him more determined to find out what they were hiding. It felt like a game to him, one that he didn't quite understand but was desperate to win. Each sneaky look and quiet insult felt like a puzzle piece that didn't fit, making him frustrated but also curious. He didn't like the secrets swirling around him, like thick fog that made everything hard to see.
He wanted to burst through that fog and find out what was really going on. He was tired of being treated like he was too little to know anything important. *I'm not just some dumb kid* he thought fiercely. I can figure it out. I'll find the truth, no matter what.
They're wrong about me, he thought, clenching his fists tight. They're always wrong when it comes to me.
But no matter how hard he tried to block them out, the villager's nasty words crept back in. "Parentless freak, abandoned demon child," the whispers taunted him, echoing in his head like a bad song that wouldn't go away.
Still, he could feel there was more to him than what they said. The villagers might not have known who his parents were, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out.
He'd been in the Hokage's office enough times, staring up at the portraits on the wall. The faces of the Hokages looked down at him, their eyes filled with quiet strength. One of them—a man with the same blond hair and striking purple eyes—always caught his attention, and each time he visited, it felt like he was uncovering a piece of a puzzle he was meant to solve.
He'd pieced it together himself, fueled by the certainty only a child could feel. His father was the Yondaime Hokage, the Yellow Flash, the hero people whispered about in awe. My dad, he thought, a proud warmth rising in his chest. And his mother? He imagined her, too--Kushina Uzumaki, with wild red hair and a fierce, determined look. They called her the Red Death of Konoha. Red Death, he repeated to himself, the words strange and almost magical. They must have been amazing.
But then a flicker of sadness crept in, something he couldn't quite shake. If they were so great… why did they leave me all alone?
The villagers talked, muttering in their usual hateful whispers, but they didn't know anything. They were just hate-filled puss bags, too dumb to tell the difference between a kunai and the scroll that held it.
Naruto clenched his fists, his frustration and anger simmering beneath the surface. They think they know me? They don't know anything.
The villagers talked, constantly muttering and throwing him nasty looks, but they didn't know anything. They were just hate-filled, miserable people, too clueless to see the difference between a kunai and the scroll it came in.
Naruto didn't need them to explain his life; he was smart enough to figure it out himself. There was a monster sealed inside him. He could feel it sometimes, heavy and angry, like a shadow lurking deep down that didn't belong but was a part of him in a way he couldn't quite understand.
But it wasn't just the monster. He could feel something else, something tremendous. His parents hadn't just been strong—they'd been legends. He could feel it in his bones, like a part of them was still alive inside him, something powerful, something waiting. It was more profound than anything anyone talked about; it was something hidden, like a storm waiting for the right moment to finally break free.
As that feeling stirred up in him, Naruto felt a tiny flicker of chakra at the edge of his senses—familiar, soft, but clear as day. It was like a quiet little heartbeat in the air, something he knew so well, he could feel it even with his eyes closed. He'd felt it before, that warm buzz that seemed to follow him sometimes, like it was keeping an eye on him. His eyes narrowed, and every part of him went still.
He looked around, peeking between the shadows that stretched between the trees, waiting, holding his breath. The forest got quieter, the sounds of leaves rustling and birds chirping fading as he focused hard, feeling a sort of tingling under his skin, like his body knew something was there, even if he couldn't see it. I know you're out there, watching me, he thought, his heart picking up speed.
If Anko and Kakashi noticed the way he tensed up, they didn't say a thing. They kept walking, acting like nothing was wrong, their steps steady and voices casual. But Naruto knew better—knew they weren't as relaxed as they seemed.
They notice everything, he thought, suspicion creeping in. What game are they playing?
That's when he saw her, and with a hint of irritation, he realized he recognized her.
A pale-eyed girl with long ebony hair was trailing behind them, trying to keep to the shadows. She was doing a decent job of it, too, blending in like she belonged there. To anyone else, she probably would've been invisible.
But not to him.
Compared to his sensor ability, she might as well have been jumping up and down and waving a giant sign over her head that screamed, "Here I am, throw kunai here."
This wasn't the first time he'd felt her presence. Over the past year, Anko and Kakashi had let him wander the village alone—or at least that's what they wanted him to think. The grown-ups figured he didn't notice, but Naruto wasn't stupid.
He was a Sensor, so of course, he sensed them—ANBU. They were always lurking in the shadows, watching him, darting from rooftop to rooftop like ghosts.
They thought they were clever, but even if they were just whispers in the wind to everyone else, for him, they were impossible to miss.
He didn't bother to tell them he knew they were watching. What was the point? Let them think he didn't notice; it was easier that way. He could pretend he was free to go where he wanted, pretend he was making his own choices. Maybe if they didn't realize he could feel them sneaking around, they'd mess up and he'd catch them.
But they never did. Every time he felt them there, hiding in the shadows just behind him, it made his skin crawl. They were like ghosts, never letting him forget that he was never really alone.
Freedom was just another trick, another grown-up lie they thought he'd believe. But he was done pretending it didn't bother him.
When he first sensed her, he figured it was just another ANBU. Another set of eyes in the shadows, keeping tabs on the village's problem child. But then he noticed the way her chakra lingered—faint, hesitant. It wasn't the cold, professional presence he'd grown used to. It was softer. Weaker.
It didn't take him long to realize who she was.
Hinata Hyūga. The pale-eyed girl from one of the village's elite clans.
Why would someone like her watch him? Every time he felt her chakra, it sent shivers down his spine. What could she possibly want from me?
Her presence buzzed in the air, making everything feel tingly and weird, but he didn't understand why that made him feel strange.
Was she waiting for him to mess up, or was she there to help him? He couldn't decide how either thought made him feel. Did she want to be his friend, or was she like everyone else and just waiting for a chance to hurt him? He couldn't decide.
Each time he sensed her, his heart would thump loudly in his chest, like it was trying to warn him. The world felt heavy and strange, like something big was about to happen, and he couldn't shake the feeling that she might be part of it.
No matter what he did, how hard he fought, and how much he wanted to prove himself, people like her would always look down on him. Always see him as less. As if being born made him a villain. As if he wasn't even human.
The Hyūga always acted like they were better than everyone else like the rest of the village didn't matter. And Hinata probably wasn't any different.
She never spoke to anyone. Every time he saw her, she was hiding behind others, always hanging back, just watching. Most kids didn't even notice her. She was easy to miss, slipping into the background like she wasn't even there.
But Naruto wasn't like most kids.
She thought she was sneaky like she could stay hidden, but he could always feel her. Sense her, even when she was trying to disappear. She wasn't as invisible as she wanted to be. Not to him.
Lately, she'd been following him more often, hanging back, always keeping her distance. Watching him like he was something dangerous, something she was too scared to get close to. It made him mad. Why is she always staring at me? What does she want?
Every time he caught a glimpse of her shadow lurking in the trees or felt that familiar tingle of her chakra, his irritation bubbled up like a fizzy drink about to spill. Did she really think he was just some little kid she could spy on? He wasn't afraid of her, but it felt wrong—like he was a fragile toy that might break if she touched him.
I'm not some showroom toy, he thought, frustration gnawing at him. If anything, I should be the one scared of her. But the anger kept rising, like a balloon filling with air, making him want to confront her. Did she even realize how easy it was to see her? Did she think she was clever? I see you, and I'm not going to let you just watch me.
"Hinata." Naruto's voice cut through the stillness.
She froze like a rabbit caught in a trap, her body stiff, eyes wide as if she'd been caught red-handed. Slowly, she stepped out from the shadows, face turning crimson as she avoided his gaze, fingers fumbling with her sleeves like she didn't quite know what to do with her hands.
Those pale eyes of hers looked even bigger now, wide and uncertain, glimmering with a mix of guilt and embarrassment. She shifted her gaze to him briefly, then quickly looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. She looked like she wanted to say something but didn't quite have the courage—or maybe didn't know what words to use.
It was like she was caught between the impulse to explain herself and the urge to disappear entirely.
Does she think I'm going to yell at her? Kakashi wondered, watching her small, anxious movements. She had that look he recognized, one he'd seen in others when they braced for a reprimand. Then again, considering what time it is, she deserves a good ear chewing.
He shifted his gaze to Anko, who was trying her hardest to look unfazed, though he could tell she was as rattled as he was. At least it's not just me slipping, he thought, a faint hint of amusement flickering behind his irritation. But the thought barely settled before the irritation crept back. What's going on here? Are the Clans making a move now?
Anko's fingers hovered near her kunai, her embarrassment simmering just beneath the surface. How did a kid sneak past me? she wondered, a flush of irritation creeping up her neck. I'm better than this--both of us are. She watched the little girl with narrowed eyes, trying to read her, searching for any sign that this wasn't just a fluke. Kakashi's gonna try ta train me into the ground.
Naruto didn't care about the adults' reactions. His gaze was fixed on Hinata, on the way she stood there, fidgeting and looking like she wished the ground would swallow her up. He'd caught her watching him—again—and he couldn't shake the irritation bubbling up inside him.
"Why were you following me?" he demanded, his voice sharper than he meant, almost accusatory.
Hinata flinched at the tone, her fingers nervously twisting together as she tried to find the words. He didn't know what he wanted her to say, but he needed an answer, something to explain why she kept showing up, hiding behind corners, watching him like he was some kind of puzzle she couldn't solve.
Naruto took a step forward, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, his eyes narrowed in suspicion as he waited for her answer. His stance was tense, like he was bracing himself for whatever excuse she'd come up with.
Hinata's shoulders hunched, her fingers twisting the hem of her jacket as she shifted from one foot to the other. Her gaze darted to the ground, then back up to Naruto's face, barely holding eye contact before looking away again. She swallowed, her throat bobbing nervously, and took a hesitant step backward, her entire body radiating uncertainty.
"I—I didn't mean to bother you…" she finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands fidgeting as she tried to explain. "I just… wanted to make sure you were okay."
Naruto's eyes narrowed further, his brow furrowing as he watched her. He could see her trembling slightly, her fingers twisting harder into her sleeves. For a second, he felt a strange, unnameable feeling tug at him, softening his stance just a little. But he quickly pushed it aside, waiting in silence, his gaze unrelenting as she fumbled for words.
"Don't lie to me," Naruto shot back, his voice harsher than he'd intended. "I've sensed your chakra before. You're always following me, watching me. Why?"
Hinata flinched, her hands dropping to her sides as if she'd been caught red-handed. She opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out; her lips trembled, and she shifted uneasily, her eyes darting between Naruto and the ground.
Anko's eyebrow quirked with intrigue as she exchanged a knowing glance with Kakashi. The pair shared a silent acknowledgment, both taking a renewed interest in the young Hyuga girl. Kakashi's one visible eye narrowed thoughtfully, while Anko crossed her arms, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she observed the interaction.
Hinata took a shaky breath, trying to find her voice. "I… I just…" She stammered, her voice barely audible, eyes dropping once again under Naruto's intense stare.
Anko leaned over and whispered to Kakashi, her voice barely a murmur. "Guess our little watcher isn't as invisible as she thought, huh?"
Kakashi nodded, his gaze fixed on Hinata with newfound curiosity. So, she's been following him. Interesting, he thought, wondering what could have motivated the girl's quiet vigilance over Naruto. He could sense there was more to this than just simple curiosity.
Hinata bit her lip, at the intense scrutiny directed at her. Immediately her face turning an even deeper shade of red.
Her voice barely above a whisper, she said, "I'm sorry, Naruto… I didn't mean to make you angry. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay."
Naruto's eyes narrowed. "Okay? You think I need you to check up on me?" His words came out harsher than he'd meant, but he couldn't stop the anger that surged up. He wasn't some helpless kid. He didn't need anyone's pity--especially from a spoiled Hyuga.
Hinata flinched, her expression pained, but she didn't back down. "No, it's not like that," she said softly, her voice trembling. "I just… I wanted to make sure you weren't hurt after everything that happened."
There was a pause, her gaze steady as she took a shaky breath, gathering the courage to say what was on her mind. "I knew you were strong," she continued, her voice still trembling, but now with an earnest sincerity. "But I never knew you were that powerful."
Naruto scrunched his face, his eyes narrowing as he tried to make sense of her words. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice sharper than usual. "How could you know how strong I am?"
He looked at her, really looked this time. She was always so quiet, always lurking just close enough that he'd catch her out of the corner of his eye. But now she was here, right in front of him, and he could see her face up close—the way her cheeks turned pink and her big pale eyes blinked nervously as if she was afraid to answer.
How could she know anything about him? She barely talked to him, and yet here she was, acting like she had all these answers. It didn't add up. Is she watching me to find something wrong? Is that it? he wondered, a feeling he couldn't quite name churning inside him.
Hinata looked away for a moment, her fingers brushing nervously against each other. "It's because of my eyes," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Naruto's frustration only deepened. "Your eyes? What about them?"
Kakashi noticed the confused look on Naruto's face, his young expression full of questions he wasn't sure how to ask. With a small sigh, Kakashi decided it was time for a brief explanation.
"Naruto," he began, his voice calm but with an edge of curiosity himself, "Hinata's eyes aren't like most people's. They're called the Byakugan, a special ability unique to her clan, the Hyuga."
Naruto's eyes shifted from Kakashi to Hinata, who still stood there, fidgeting with her hands, her gaze darting nervously between them. Kakashi continued, "The Byakugan lets her see things others can't. It's… like seeing through things—walls, the ground. She can see chakra networks inside people, even from a distance."
Naruto blinked, processing this. "So… she can see my chakra?" he asked, glancing back at her, a little unsettled by the idea.
Hinata's cheeks flushed even darker, and she looked away, nodding just slightly.
"Yeah," Kakashi replied, "she can see chakra patterns, strengths, weaknesses—all sorts of things that most people can't. That's why she can tell you're strong. Even if you don't realize it yourself yet, she's already seen it."
Naruto's brows furrowed, his confusion mixed with a strange new awareness. So, Hinata had been watching him… but not in the way he'd thought. It wasn't about spying; it was something different.
When she finally spoke, Hinata's voice trembled slightly, as if she were sharing a secret too big for her small heart to hold. "Even when you weren't using any chakra, I could see yours. It's always been there, so strong… but what I saw today--it was more than I expected."
Her pale eyes widened as she took in the swirling energies around him, unable to look away from the strange, vibrant mix of colors. Around him was a deep, calming blue—a shade that felt safe, almost protective. But woven into it was a wild, chaotic gold that crackled like lightning, sending her heart racing. It was like watching a storm build over the ocean: beautiful, but carrying a danger that made her pulse quicken.
"It's like… there are two sides to you," she whispered, her voice so soft she wasn't even sure if he heard her. The idea of something dark hiding behind his strength sent a shiver down her spine.
"I… I don't know what that means," she admitted, her gaze dropping as her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. She felt something she couldn't quite name—a strange mix of awe and fear, like standing on the edge of a cliff, wondering what it would be like to leap. Everything about him felt big, bigger than anything she'd ever faced, and though she wanted to understand it, the unknown tugged at her with a kind of excitement and dread she wasn't ready for.
Naruto stared at Hinata for a long moment, his golden eyes narrowing in focus. They flickered briefly to a calm blue, reflecting the peace he often wished for, before snapping back to their usual striking purple. Each shift in color showed the emotions swirling inside him. He could feel anger bubbling just beneath the surface, hot and restless, like a coiled snake ready to strike.
The air was thick with tension, filled with unspoken words. Frustration washed over him, mixing with the need to be understood. He clenched his fists, the soft crunch of his knuckles echoing his inner turmoil. It wasn't just Hinata watching him; it was the weight of all the people who had dismissed him, reminding him of every time he felt small and unworthy.
But she seemed sincere--he could see it in the way her pale eyes looked at him, wide and earnest--but it didn't change anything. Her kind words didn't make his frustration disappear or help him understand what was going on inside him.
He crossed his arms, feeling the weight of her gaze. Why did she have to care? Why did everyone have to care? It only made things more complicated. I just want to be strong, he thought, a deep ache settling in his chest. But strength felt so far away, tangled up with all these feelings he didn't know how to handle.
The mix of blue and gold swirling in him felt like a riddle he couldn't solve. It was like having a secret that made him feel both powerful and alone. And no matter how much he wanted to push it all away, it lingered, pressing down on him like a heavy stone.
Seeing the direction of the conversation, Kakashi stepped in, his silver hair catching the fading sunlight as he fixed his gaze on Hinata. The warmth of the day was slipping away, casting long shadows across the ground.
Hinata shook her head, her large, pale eyes widening in apprehension. "No… I just wanted to see how Naruto was doing," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, tinged with anxiety.
Kakashi's gaze hardened, his brow furrowing slightly. "It's not safe for a little girl to be out here alone. Head back before anyone notices you're gone."His tone left no room for argument.
Hinata bowed deeply, her long dark hair framing her face as she nodded. "Yes, Kakashi-sensei. I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft but respectful.
After casting one last lingering glance at Naruto, her pale eyes filled with quiet concern and something more profound--she turned and quickly ran home, her petite figure disappearing into the shadows of the village, the evening light swallowing her up.
His eyes. That was the first thought that crossed Hinata's mind as she sprinted home, her tiny feet pounding against the ground. Each step felt heavy with the weight of what she had witnessed.
"I wonder if he knows his eyes change colors?" The image of Naruto's fierce golden glare and soothing blue calm filled her thoughts, swirling around with all the other feelings she didn't understand.
Her heart ached for him. She had seen so much, yet his pain felt deeper than anything she could comprehend. The way the villagers treated him twisted her stomach in knots, and her own family wasn't any better--always looking down on him as if he were somehow less than everyone else.
She had heard the whispers, the mocking laughter, and it made her want to scream.
As she hurried through the village streets, the setting sun cast long shadows, and the familiar sounds of children playing echoed in the distance, a stark contrast to the loneliness she knew Naruto faced. She kept her gaze focused on the ground, afraid to meet anyone's eyes lest they realize who she was and tell her father. The thought made her shiver, but she pushed on, driven by an unwavering determination.
When she finally reached the hidden spot in the Hyuga compound's wall, her heart raced as she pressed her palm against the cool stone. The passageway was narrow and dark, and she squeezed through it, feeling the familiar sense of adventure that came with sneaking out.
But this time felt different. This time, her resolve was more decisive. She would train, she would learn, and she would be there for Naruto, no matter how far apart their worlds seemed. The flicker of hope burned bright in her chest, illuminating her path as she made her way back to the safety of her home, a promise lingering on her lips.
No matter what it took, one day, she would be strong enough to stand at Naruto's side; then, she would learn why that was so important to her.
Kakashi watched Hinata disappear into the distance, her figure swallowed by the fading light of the evening. He sighed quietly, his single visible eye softening as he considered the weight pressing down on such tiny shoulders.
The Hyuga girl was quiet but determined, her resolve stronger than her timid demeanor suggested. But as Kakashi shifted his gaze to Naruto, a deeper worry gnawed at him.
Naruto stood there, still as a statue, yet the air around him seemed to pulse with a tension Kakashi couldn't ignore. The anger in the boy's eyes wasn't just frustration--it was something sharper, darker. It was far too intense for someone his age, and it troubled Kakashi more than he cared to admit. That kind of rage, if left unchecked, could turn destructive, and Naruto was already carrying a burden far beyond what any five-year-old should ever have to bear.
He wasn't just angry at the villagers or his situation--there was something else simmering beneath the surface. Kakashi had seen it before in others who had suffered loss or been forced to carry responsibilities that twisted them over time. But with Naruto, it was different. It was like staring into the eyes of someone who had already lived through too much, who had seen the worst the world had to offer and was still standing, but barely. The boy had power, raw and immense, but the anger—it could turn him into something no one was prepared to handle.
Kakashi let out another sigh, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on his shoulders. He couldn't afford to let this fester. Anko was eager to push Naruto, to help him harness his strength, but Kakashi knew they were walking a dangerous line. It wasn't just about training Naruto to be stronger; it was about guiding him away from the edge he seemed so close to.
The village didn't understand. They saw Naruto as either a nuisance or a weapon, but Kakashi saw the struggle in the boy's eyes, the war he was fighting within himself. If that anger ever consumed him, the consequences would be devastating--not just for Naruto, but for everyone around him.
He glanced up at the sky, the last slivers of sunlight fading into darkness. He could feel the shift in the air, the way the world was changing, and he knew that time wasn't on their side.
Anko stood nearby, arms crossed, her sharp eyes flicking between Kakashi and Naruto. She'd been silent for a while, observing the tension thickening in the air, but she wasn't one to hold her tongue for long.
Finally, she let out an annoyed huff and stepped forward, her voice as blunt as ever. "We're seriously not gonna ignore that, right?" she snapped, jerking her thumb toward Naruto. "Kid's got a storm brewing in him, and it's not the good kind. You see the way he looked at that girl? He's barely holding it together."
Kakashi didn't respond immediately, still watching Naruto's back as the boy stood there, lost in his world of frustration.
Anko rolled her eyes, her patience thinning. "I get it. We're training him to be a weapon, but you keep letting him stew in all that anger, and he's gonna explode. You really think he's just gonna grow out of it?" She barked a short, humorless laugh. "Please. We've both seen what happens when shinobi let their emotions eat them alive."
Her tone shifted slightly, still rough around the edges but laced with genuine concern. "Look, I don't give a damn what the Council says or what some ancient clan wants. That kid's a ticking bomb--they want him to be a puppet. You know it, I know it." She glanced at Kakashi, her eyes narrowing. "But we're supposed to be training him, not pushing him closer to the edge."
Kakashi sighed, his expression hardening. "I know," he said softly."Then do something about it," Anko pressed, stepping closer, her voice dropping just enough for only Kakashi to hear. "Before we end up with another Danzo mess on our hands. That rage? It's not gonna go away on its own. We need to stop coddling him and figure out what's really going on in that head of his before he snaps."
Naruto hadn't moved, but both shinobi knew the boy could hear every word. Kakashi's eye flickered with something unreadable, and he nodded, his voice low but decisive.
"Yeah. You're right," he finally admitted, his usual aloofness stripped away, revealing the weight of his concerns.
Anko's scowl deepened, but she gave a short nod. "Good. 'Cause if you won't do something, I sure as hell will. Kid's tough, but he's not invincible. Not yet."Kakashi looked back at Naruto, his mind already working through what came next. He wasn't sure if they had enough time to help Naruto before things spiraled out of control, but one thing was certain--waiting any longer wasn't an option.
The quiet in Danzo's dimly lit office was punctuated by the almost imperceptible rustle of fabric as an ANBU agent appeared at his side. The figure knelt silently, offering a rolled scroll in both hands, his plain white mask bearing nothing but the black kanji for "Root." The flickering light from the brazier sent shadows crawling along the stone walls as if the room itself breathed in sync with Danzo's dark thoughts.
Without turning his head, Danzo extended his bandaged hand and took the scroll, his movements slow and deliberate. He leaned back slightly in his chair, the hardwood creaking as he unrolled the parchment with practiced ease. His single visible eye scanned the text, sharp and calculating, absorbing each detail as it emerged.
His other arm, hidden beneath layers of bandages, rested stiffly against his side, a reminder of the sacrifices he had made for the village.
The report was about him. Naruto Uzumaki. The boy. The container. A weapon waiting to be sharpened.
Danzo's thin lips pressed into a hard line as he read the brief update. The thought of how Hiruzen allowed the boy to wander the village, unchecked and unshaped, irritated him to his core. The Nine-Tails Jinchūriki was a tool--no, more than a tool, a force that could bring Konoha to unparalleled strength. Yet Hiruzen treats him like an ordinary child. It was a weakness Danzo despised.
"How long has the boy been left unguarded this time?" Danzo's voice was low, ice threading through every syllable. He remained still, his hands folding the scroll carefully over his lap as if the weight of his inquiry demanded nothing less than absolute precision.
"Almost two hours," came the emotionless reply. The ANBU agent remained kneeling, back straight, the mask concealing any hint of humanity. "During that time, there were incidents at the market and at one of the more popular convenience stores; the Jinchūriki was met with the usual hostility. The villagers continue to regard him with a mix of fear and disdain. I observed several instances of open hostility from shopkeepers, refusing him service or raising prices when he attempted to purchase goods."
Danzo remained seated, his fingers resting idly on the armrest, but his mind was sharp, processing each word carefully. His gaze was fixed on the agent, though his thoughts were already moving far beyond the walls of the room."Elaborate," he ordered.
"Yes, Danzo-sama," the agent replied promptly. "At the market, a group of civilians deliberately bump into the Jinchūriki, causing him to drop his basket. They laughed, muttering insults under their breath, calling him 'demon' and 'cursed.' He didn't respond; he only picked up his things and continued on his way."
Danzo's lips twitched, the slightest hint of a smirk ghosting over his otherwise expressionless face. Good, he thought. The boy's isolation was progressing as anticipated. Fear would keep the villagers wary, and their disdain would fuel the boy's alienation. It was a vital part of the process--the boy needed to feel alone and unwanted. It would break him down and make him easier to shape when the time came. A mind without warmth could be filled with whatever Danzo saw fit.
The agent, oblivious to Danzo's thoughts, moved on. "At the store, the shopkeeper refused to sell to him outright, claiming he didn't want 'demon money' corrupting his business. A few other customers present offered nothing but disapproving looks. The boy left without argument, but his expression was… blank. Unreadable."
Danzo tapped his fingers slowly against the armrest, his gaze hardening. A blank expression could mean many things. It could be the numbness of a child who had endured too much. Or it could be something more profound--anger buried beneath the surface, waiting for an outlet. Either way, it served his purpose. Naruto Uzumaki needed to be kept in the dark, cut off from the bonds that might give him strength.
"And the general sentiment of the villagers?" Danzo asked, his voice cold and direct. He already knew the answer but wanted to hear it confirmed.
"Fear dominates their emotions, Danzo-sama," the agent replied, his tone unwavering. "The civilians, especially those who remember the Nine-Tails' attack, continue to regard the boy as a threat. Though they avoid confronting him directly in public, the whispers of 'demon' and 'monster' remain constant. I've observed children being pulled away by their parents when he passes, as well as guards exchanging uneasy glances whenever he enters their line of sight."
Danzo nodded slightly, his expression still unreadable, though a hint of satisfaction glimmered in his lone eye. The villagers' fear was a double-edged sword--dangerous if left unchecked but valuable in the right hands. If Naruto ever tried to win their approval, their coldness would push him away, leaving him vulnerable and isolated.
"Continue," Danzo prompted.
The agent hesitated for only a fraction of a second before resuming. "There have been no signs of anyone openly defending the boy, save for his two ANBU guardians. I noticed the occasional sympathetic glance from a few civilians, but none acted on it. They remain silent, unwilling to challenge the wider sentiment. As per the Hokage's orders, except for one individual, the shinobi mostly ignore him."
Danzo leaned forward slightly, folding his hands in front of him as his gaze darkened. The village's collective fear was almost perfect. But "almost" was never enough. There was always the risk of cracks forming, of bonds being made--bonds that could lead to disobedience, to rebellion. He could not allow Naruto to find comfort or protection in anyone, not even the misplaced kindness of a few sentimental fools.
"And the Hyūga girl," Danzo muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "She complicates things."
"Yes, Danzo-sama," the agent replied, his head bowed even lower. "Her actions suggest a growing interest in the boy, though she remains distant. I believe she fears being seen in his company, but her attention is unmistakable."
Danzo's jaw tightened, though his expression remained cold. He would have to deal with the Hyūga girl soon. If her curiosity about the Jinchūriki continued, she could become a threat to his plans. And yet, she could also be used, her powerful bloodline and status manipulated to drive a further wedge between Naruto and the rest of the village.
Danzo allowed himself a moment of thought, weighing the possibilities before speaking again. "Keep close surveillance on the girl. Report any interactions, no matter how small. And if she continues to interfere, I will take measures to ensure she no longer becomes a problem."
The agent bowed deeply, murmuring, "Yes, Danzo-sama," before fading back into the shadows, leaving the room cloaked once more in the oppressive silence that Danzo had grown to accept as his constant companion.
Danzo rose slowly, his body moving stiffly with age, and approached the large map of Konoha pinned to the wall. He let his fingers trace along the streets where Naruto had been, his mind already working on how to manipulate the pieces on the board.
The boy was still raw, brimming with untapped potential. But under his control, Naruto Uzumaki would be molded into the perfect weapon--a tool that would bring about the future Konoha truly needed. All he had to do was ensure the boy's isolation continued, his mind sharpened by the cold reality of fear and rejection. Then, and only then, would Naruto understand his place.And that place would be in Danzo's hands.
Naruto sat cross-legged in the center of the training grounds, his eyes shut, body still as stone. The ANBU compound was vast and isolated, surrounded by high, dark walls that seemed to swallow sound. Above, the sky was hidden by a dense canopy of trees, the few slivers of light that managed to filter through, barely reaching the cold, unforgiving ground.
It was a space designed for silence and secrecy--a place where no one could intrude and no one could hear you scream.
He had just finished a series of chakra control exercises, ones that were supposed to help him with balance and focus. He hated them. They were repetitive, mind-numbing tasks meant to distract him from the real problem, the thing gnawing at the back of his mind every waking second. Now, forced into meditation, he could feel it stirring again. That voice. It was always lurking, always whispering.
It didn't take long before it returned, curling like smoke through the edges of his consciousness. Her voice was familiar, like a dark lullaby that had been playing in his head for as long as he could remember. Cold, yet oddly comforting.
You can't keep ignoring me, child.
Naruto's fists clenched in his lap, but he kept his breathing even. He'd heard her voice so many times now that it no longer shocked him. She wanted out. She always wanted out.
You know they deserve it, don't you? This village. They treat you like dirt. They treat us both like dirt. Her voice slithered through his mind, bitter and filled with an anger that felt all too familiar.
They fear me but hate you. What sense does that make? Why should you protect them? Why should we stay silent?
Naruto's jaw tightened. He knew she was right. The villagers--the way they looked at him, the way they whispered behind his back--it was always the same. He wasn't one of them. He was an outcast. A monster. But he wasn't stupid. Giving in to her would only make things worse, and he wasn't ready to face whatever lay on the other side of that temptation.
But she wasn't finished.
You're strong, child, but you could be stronger. Let me help you. I'll give you the power to make them pay for what they've done to us. For what they did to your parents.
He stiffened at that. The mention of his parents always stung like a blade twisted deep inside. He didn't know everything about them, but he knew enough. And he knew the village wasn't as innocent as they pretended to be.
And the Hyūga girl, the voice added, softer now, more curious. She smells interesting, and I can sense something behind those innocent eyes that interests me. I like her.
Naruto's brow furrowed slightly, confusion rippling through his meditation. Like her? The creepy, pale-eyed girl who constantly stalked him from the shadows, following him around like a lost puppy? Why would she care about Hinata? Why should he? He almost asked but stopped himself. It didn't matter. She was just trying to distract him.
Let me out, child, the voice urged again, sharper this time. Or if you won't release me, at least listen to my advice.
Naruto's heartbeat quickened, but he forced it back down, his cold anger settling into something more controlled. He had learned to tune her out before, but something about her tone this time made him pause.
You're letting your anger control you. That will get you nowhere. Temper it. Control it. Harness it. Her voice grew more insistent, almost… instructive. Only then will you be able to wield the two natures of chakra inside you. It's not just about strength, child. It's about mastery.
Naruto opened his eyes, the stillness of the training grounds pressing in around him like a heavy weight. Two natures. He could feel them--one familiar, the other something darker, more volatile. He didn't fully understand what it meant yet, but deep down, he knew she was right. He couldn't afford to lose control.
Fine, Naruto thought, his mental voice sharp and laced with suspicion. Let's say I agree with you helping me. What's in it for you?
The answer came in the form of a low, amused chuckle that echoed through the depths of his mind, sending a shiver down his spine. It wasn't a kind laugh--it was the sound of someone who had seen far too much and found the world wanting.
What's in it for me? she repeated, her tone dripping with condescension. For one, I was a good friend of your mother's. She was… special, and I owe her more than a few favors.
There was a brief pause as if she was savoring the moment, then she added, And despite your childish temper tantrums, I've grown to… tolerate you. Maybe even like you, a little.
Naruto's eyes narrowed, even though he remained still in meditation. He wasn't sure if he believed her, but the mention of his mother always struck a chord. There was an edge to her voice, though, that went beyond simple loyalty to a long-lost friend. Something deeper.
But there's more, isn't there? he pressed, his thoughts harder now, more focused.
Oh, you're finally catching on, she said, sounding amused again. I've had years--years, mind you--to think about the night you were born. To go over every detail, every second of that attack. And after all that time, I'm more than suspicious about who within the village helped make it happen.
Naruto's pulse quickened, his breath hitching just slightly. What do you mean? You think someone in the village—?
Oh, I'm sure you know exactly what I mean. Her voice was cold now, razor-sharp. The location of your birth was known to only a few trusted individuals. Very few. Yet somehow, the attacker—our dear masked friend—not only knew exactly where to strike but when to strike. That wasn't just a coincidence, that was corridination.
Naruto's stomach twisted. The village… someone in the village betrayed them? He clenched his fists tighter in his lap, feeling the anger rise again. Who? Who could've done that?
She hesitated, drawing the silence out, as if savoring his desperation. Then, with a dark smirk in her tone, she replied, I have my guesses, boy. But I won't tell you.
He nearly snapped back, the surge of frustration pushing against his control. *Why not?!*
Because, she said, her voice low and dangerous, you're not ready. You can't control your temper, and you're far too weak to handle the truth. You think you're angry now? You have no idea what kind of rage awaits you when you learn the truth. No… first, you'll need to prove you can control yourself, and sharpen your skills.
Her tone was final, as if she'd already made up her mind. She was toying with him, dangling the answers just out of reach. And it worked. It dug at him like a thorn beneath his skin, but deep down, he knew she was right. He wasn't ready. Not yet.
Naruto bit back his anger, forcing it down into the pit of his stomach. It simmered there, dark and cold, but he wouldn't let it consume him. Not this time. He could wait. Fine, he finally muttered, his voice flat. I'll play your game. But you better hold up your end of the deal.
She laughed again, a sound that was both chilling and strangely comforting. Oh, don't worry, boy. When the time comes, I'll tell you everything. By the Hells, I'll help you gut the bastards when the time comes, but until then, control your anger. Only then will you have the power you need.
Naruto opened his eyes, the meditation broken, and felt the weight of her words settle over him like a heavy cloak. Control. He had to control himself—his temper, his chakra, everything. If he wanted the truth, if he wanted answers, that was the only way forward.
And the village? The village would pay for what they did. One way or another.