Chapter 3: Meeting the Demon

After lunch, we were escorted back to class. The chatter of students gradually died down as everyone took their seats, settling in for the next lesson. I found myself next to Hinata again, and as the lesson began, I sat up straight and focused.

That, apparently, was enough to shock the entire class.

I could feel their eyes on me—confused, skeptical, some even amused. It was obvious why. Naruto Uzumaki paying attention in class? Actually sitting still and listening instead of goofing off or sleeping? That was unheard of. Even Iruka paused mid-sentence when he noticed my unusually serious expression.

I ignored them.

I had more important things to worry about than their reactions.

The reason I was paying attention was simple: I needed as much information as possible to survive in this world. This wasn't just a school—it was a ninja school. And despite the bright classroom and the illusion of a normal learning environment, what we were being taught wasn't just reading and math. It was combat. Strategy. Chakra theory.

This was training for war.

And I would be a fool not to absorb every bit of knowledge I could.

Besides… this was ninja school. Who wouldn't be excited to learn something that was basically the equivalent of magic? Chakra, ninjutsu, taijutsu—these weren't just fantasy concepts anymore. They were real. Tangible. And if I was going to survive, I needed to master them.

So I listened. I took mental notes. I analyzed everything Iruka said, comparing it to the fragmented knowledge I had from my memories of Naruto's world. Every detail, every technique, every theory—I treated it all like it was the most important lecture of my life.

And in many ways, it was.

Today, we're going to be learning how to unlock your chakra!"

The moment Iruka said those words, the entire classroom erupted into cheers. Kids grinned, some practically bouncing in their seats with excitement. Even the normally laid-back Shikamaru looked mildly interested.

Meanwhile, I sat there, slightly confused.

Unlock our chakra? Shouldn't we already have access to it?

Sasuke, for example, had been able to use the Great Fireball Jutsu before the Uchiha Massacre. That wasn't the skill of someone who had just "unlocked" their chakra. Then it clicked—this was just for the academy students who weren't raised as shinobi from birth.

The clan kids—the ones with shinobi heritage—probably had chakra exercises drilled into them from an early age. It was expected of them. They were practically destined to become ninja, so it made sense they'd have a head start. For them, today's lesson was probably just a formality.

For the rest of us, though, this was the first step. The moment where we went from being ordinary children to true shinobi-in-training.

And even though I technically already had chakra, I couldn't afford to take this lightly.

I needed to learn everything—not just for myself, but because the stronger I became, the better my chances were of surviving in this world.

"Okay, I know this is going to be difficult for you guys, but we're going to have to meditate to access it," Iruka explained, scanning the room with a patient smile. "Don't fret if you don't get it on the first try! It can take days to unlock your chakra."

That… actually made sense.

Even for adults, meditation wasn't easy to achieve. It required stillness, focus, and an awareness of oneself that most people simply didn't have. For a bunch of restless kids? It was bound to be even harder.

I glanced around the classroom, already seeing the varying reactions. Some looked excited, eager to prove themselves. Others groaned, probably already dreading sitting still for so long.

But for me?

This was important.

If I was going to thrive in this world, I needed control over my chakra. Full control.

So if meditation was the first step, then I would master it. No matter how long it took.

Iruka led us outside into a small clearing behind the academy, where the sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The chatter among students had died down somewhat, replaced by a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

"Alright, everyone, sit down cross-legged," Iruka instructed, demonstrating the posture himself. "Try to relax your body completely and turn your focus inward. Search within yourself for that energy—the warmth, the flow. That's your chakra."

The class followed his lead, some more enthusiastically than others. I lowered myself onto the grass, crossing my legs and resting my hands on my knees. Around me, students fidgeted, some closing their eyes immediately while others peeked at their neighbors, unsure if they were doing it right.

I took a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs before slowly exhaling. Relax everything. Search inside.

It sounded simple.

But I knew better.

It takes a bunch of practice to reach a meditative state. No way was I going to reach it on my first—

I barely finished the thought before something yanked at me.

It wasn't physical, but it felt as real as if someone had grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled—hard. My entire body tensed as an invisible force dragged me downward, a sensation like falling into an endless abyss.

My vision blurred, the sounds of the academy faded, and before I could react—

I was somewhere else.

I had been dragged into the depths of my own mind.

I woke with a start, my senses overwhelmed by the damp, musty air around me. The sound of water trickling echoed softly, and as I pushed myself up, I felt the cool, wet ground beneath my fingertips.

A sewer.

The realization hit me instantly. The dimly lit tunnels, the endless pipes running along the walls, and the shallow water reflecting the eerie glow of unseen light—this was Naruto's mindscape. My mindscape now.

I exhaled sharply, steadying myself as I stood.

I had known this moment would come eventually, but experiencing it firsthand was completely different.

And if I was here…

That meant he was here too.

I turned around, and my breath caught in my throat.

Before me stood a massive iron cage, its bars stretching impossibly high into the darkness above. Seals covered the metal, glowing faintly with power. And behind those bars…

A pair of massive, burning red eyes stared down at me.

Kurama.

The Nine-Tailed Fox loomed in the shadows, his enormous body curled within the confines of his prison. His deep orange fur bristled as he shifted, claws scraping against the stone floor. Even in captivity, even locked behind those bars, his sheer presence was overwhelming. The raw power radiating from him pressed down on me like a crushing wave, sending shivers down my spine.

I had seen him countless times before in anime, in fan art, in stories. But none of that could compare to standing here, feeling the weight of his existence firsthand.

"Kurama…" I breathed, pure amazement and awe filling my voice.

His eyes narrowed. A low, rumbling growl reverberated through the sewer, shaking the very ground beneath me.

Kurama's eyes narrowed further, his slit pupils locking onto me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. His presence was suffocating, like a storm waiting to break loose.

"Who are you?" he rumbled, his deep voice vibrating through the walls of my mindscape. "You are not my container anymore… not entirely, it seems. And how do you know my name?"

I hummed, rubbing the back of my neck.

Yeah… I knew this day would come eventually. There was no avoiding the giant beast sealed inside me. No dodging the conversation that had to happen.

I took a breath and cleared my throat. Might as well get this over with.

"Well… I suppose I should start with my name," I said, trying to sound confident, though my voice wavered slightly under Kurama's piercing gaze. "My name is—or rather, was—Caelum Vance." I paused, letting that sink in before continuing. "But now… I am Naruto Uzumaki. And I'm from another universe."

Silence.

Kurama just stared at me.

Yeah. That probably wasn't the best way to put it.

Once again, my lack of social skills bites me. But honestly, how the hell was I supposed to bring up the fact that I was a universe-hopping human? There was no etiquette guide for this!

Kurama remained silent, his massive eyes studying me with unreadable intensity. The air in my mindscape felt heavier, as if the sheer weight of his presence was pressing down on me.

"I'm sorry I called your name without permission…" I said, my voice more cautious now. I wasn't here to pick a fight. If anything, I wanted to make this as smooth as possible.

Kurama huffed, his tails twitching behind him. "Tch. At least you have some manners. But that still doesn't explain how you know so much about me."

I hesitated for a moment, then an idea struck me.

"Hm… is there a way for me to share memories with you?" I asked.

If I could show him my past—everything I knew, everything I had been through—maybe it would help. Maybe it would make this easier than just trying to explain the impossible with words alone.

Kurama's eyes flickered with something unreadable, his ears twitching slightly. Then, after a long moment, he let out a deep chuckle—low and rumbling, like distant thunder.

"Hmph. That depends… are you willing to risk opening your mind to me as well?"

"I trust you," I responded.

Kurama's eyes widened slightly, the first real crack in his otherwise unreadable expression. He studied me with something I couldn't quite place—was it confusion? Suspicion? Maybe even… disbelief?

"You… trust me?" he repeated, his voice quieter but still carrying its usual weight.

I nodded, rubbing the back of my head with an awkward chuckle. "Yeah… and let's be honest, I don't really have any other option, do I?"

Kurama didn't respond immediately. His massive form remained still, his eyes locked onto me as if trying to find the lie in my words.

But there wasn't one.

I did trust him. Not because I was reckless, not because I was naïve, but because I knew him. Not as the world's greatest threat. Not as some mindless force of destruction.

But as Kurama.

And that seemed to shake him more than anything else.

Kurama remained silent, his massive eyes still locked onto me, his expression unreadable. I could see the conflict in the way his tails twitched slightly, the way his ears flicked in thought.

After a long moment, I decided to speak again.

"Are you fine with that?" I asked, my tone softer, more considerate. "I mean… my memories are gonna make you question a lot of things. About yourself, about reality, and a whole bunch of other stuff."

Kurama narrowed his eyes slightly, his claws scraping lightly against the stone floor of my mindscape. "Hmph. You think a few memories will shake me?"

I gave a small, lopsided grin. "Oh, trust me. They will."

His gaze lingered on me for another long moment before he let out a low exhale, his hot breath ruffling my hair even from behind the bars.

"Fine." His voice rumbled like distant thunder. "But don't think I won't be watching your every move, human."

I nodded, taking a deep breath. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

"So, how do I show my memories?" I say and Kurama almost facepalms.

"This is your mind brat. You can do practically anything here."

I blinked at Kurama, then back at the floating TV screen I had just conjured.

"Hm. You're right," I muttered, nodding to myself in satisfaction.

"What the hell is that black rectangle?" Kurama asked, his voice caught somewhere between bewilderment and mild irritation.

I glanced at him, tilting my head. "Oh. It's a TV—uh, a device from my old world that plays moving pictures with sound. It's how people watch entertainment, news, and… well, everything, really."

Kurama stared at the screen like it was some kind of eldritch horror. "You humans really come up with the weirdest things," he grumbled.

I chuckled. "Yeah, well, you're about to see a lot weirder things than this."

Taking a deep breath, I focused, willing my memories to be projected onto the screen. A moment later, the black screen flickered to life. The images began playing—scenes from my past life, my childhood, my rise to success, the technological marvels I had created, and finally… my death.

I didn't look away.

And neither did Kurama.

Kurama's entire form trembled slightly, his massive claws digging into the ground as he processed what he had just seen. His eyes, wide with something I could only describe as fear, darted between me and the screen.

"I am… not real?" he muttered, his voice quieter than I had ever heard it.

I felt something in my chest twist at the sight of him like this. The great Nine-Tailed Fox, a being of pure chakra, a force of nature… shaking.

"No!" I blurted out, the desperation in my voice surprising even me. My face flushed with embarrassment at my outburst, but I pushed through. "I'm here, aren't I? That means you're real—just as real as me."

Kurama's gaze snapped back to me, his pupils narrowing. "Tch. That's not how it works, brat."

I crossed my arms. "Then tell me—what exactly defines real? Because from where I'm standing, you're here, talking to me, thinking, feeling. That's real enough."

Kurama didn't respond immediately. His tails twitched, his expression unreadable.

I took a deep breath. "Look, I know this is a lot to take in. But you're not some made-up character in a story, Kurama. You exist, and your existence matters."

His ears flicked at my words, but he stayed silent.

For the first time since I arrived in this world, I felt like I had truly shaken something in him.

"Besides! Even if you didn't exist, how does that change anything?" I say breaking out of his stupor. And appealing to his sense of logos.

Kurama's ears twitched, and his gaze sharpened as he processed my words.

"What?" he grumbled, still visibly shaken but now more irritated than afraid.

I took a step closer, determination swelling in my chest. "Even if you didn't exist before, you do now. How does knowing where you came from change what you are?" I spread my arms. "You think, you feel, you have memories, instincts, and emotions. That's real, Kurama. That's all that matters."

He let out a slow exhale, his massive form settling slightly, though tension still clung to his posture.

"Hmph. You're a strange one, brat," he muttered, his voice quieter, less aggressive. His tails curled around him slightly, a subconscious gesture of thoughtfulness.

I smirked. "Trust me, I get that a lot."

Kurama narrowed his eyes but didn't argue. For the first time, it felt like he was actually listening.

Kurama didn't respond immediately, his massive form still tense as he processed everything. His tails twitched, his glowing eyes locked onto me, but there was no more hostility—only contemplation.

I took a step back. "I'll leave you some time to think, Kurama… or, erm, Kyūbi," I corrected, realizing he might not be used to hearing his name so casually. "I know this is a lot to take in."

His gaze flickered, but he remained silent.

Taking that as my cue, I closed my eyes and focused on exiting the mindscape. The sewer-like surroundings blurred, fading into nothingness as I felt myself being pulled back to reality.

With a sharp inhale, I snapped my eyes open, finding myself once again in the clearing, sitting cross-legged among my classmates. The afternoon sun warmed my skin, and the distant chatter of the other students filled the air.

No one seemed to notice that I had just had a life-changing conversation with the most powerful tailed beast inside my head.

I exhaled slowly.

That… could've gone worse.