Laughter echoed through the Academy courtyard like the defilement of a sacred temple. Sasuke Uchiha was training with cold elegance, drawing the eyes of his classmates like a magnet. Every shuriken throw sparked gasps of admiration. Every movement lit up the eyes of the girls lined along the wall.
And then, like a wrong note in a flawless melody, a high-pitched voice burst forth:
— "YO! DID YOU SEE THAT?!"
Naruto landed in a cloud of dust, half-naked, a cooking pot on his head, blue paint scratched onto his cheeks.
— "I'm the great ninja Naruto Uzumaki! Soon-to-be Hokage! You'll call me 'Your Majesty'!"
An awkward silence passed through the group, quickly broken by a few snickers. Kiba rolled his eyes. Sakura sighed.
— "Ugh… not again."
Naruto burst into laughter, hands on his hips, chest puffed out like he had just won a battle.
But no one was laughing with him.
No one… except himself.
In truth, it was all calculated.
The fall into the mud. The clumsy routine. The oversized smile, the exaggerated grimaces.
Naruto Uzumaki had mastered the art of masking better than any actor. Hiding his intelligence. Faking ignorance. Simulating weakness.
It wasn't a joke.
It was a survival strategy.
He knew how they looked at him.
Not with respect.
With suspicion. Disgust. Fear.
So he made eye contact unbearable.
He became louder than their silence.
More annoying than their whispers.
He placed himself at the center, not to shine… but so they would stop scorning him in secret.
If you're going to hate me… do it to my face.
The teachers didn't know what to make of him.
Naruto didn't understand their lessons. Or at least, that's what they thought.
He failed the most basic exercises.
— "Naruto, you still don't understand the difference between Henge and Bunshin?"
He shrugged, then performed a hilariously bad transformation into a wrinkled old woman with a mustache.
Everyone laughed. The teacher sighed.
But no one knew…
That every night, Naruto repeated the same exercise a hundred times.
In the dim light of his empty apartment, he sat cross-legged on the floor. He could feel chakra flowing in his veins like a living river.
His fingers moved through the hand seals with a reverence almost sacred.
[Chakra stable. Synchronization: 98%. Growth curve: exponential.]
He copied Sasuke's moves, carefully memorized during the day. He mimicked Nara techniques, Hyūga footwork, Aburame reactions.
Then he took it further.
He improved them.
But at the Academy, he stayed "the dead last."
And he was fine with that.
Because as long as they saw him as an idiot, no one would try to uncover what he really was becoming.
Sometimes, he'd catch Hinata watching him.
A soft look. Fragile. A little sad.
She looked at him like he was something more than a monster.
But he didn't believe it.
Stay away. Even you. Even your eyes will change eventually.
There were days when loneliness clung to his skin like cold sweat.
When the class laughed without him. When the teacher praised someone else. When groups formed… and he was left alone.
So he ran. Into the forest, breath ragged.
And there, alone among the trees, he screamed.
No words. No names.
Just a cry.
A raw, animal howl no one would ever hear.
At night, he'd sit atop the Academy roof, legs dangling, eyes lost among the stars.
He spoke to the moon.
— "At least you listen to me, don't you?"
The wind tousled his blond hair in reply.
— "You know… I could beat all of them. One by one. Easily."
He sighed.
— "But what's the point? They'd just hate me even more..."
He clenched his fists.
— "So I'll let them think I'm weak. That way… one day, I'll crush them when they least expect it."
Every day, Naruto grew stronger. His body, faster. His mind, sharper. His chakra, denser.
And every day, he also grew more alone.
One afternoon, Iruka kept him after class.
— "Naruto… do you want me to help you study for the ninjutsu test?"
Naruto stared at his teacher.
— "You think I'm dumb?"
— "No! That's not it, I just—"
— "Forget it."
He stood up, grinning.
— "I don't need help. I'm Naruto Uzumaki, dattebayo!"
Iruka sighed, helpless.
And Naruto walked out, fists clenched, nails digging into his palms.
Now you want to help me? After ignoring me for years?
No. It's too late.
I built myself. I'll become strong on my own. I don't need anyone.
But sometimes, in those too-quiet nights, when he finally closed his eyes…
He imagined a hand resting on his shoulder. A voice—gentle, warm, without fear, without pity.
A voice that said, "You're not alone."
And he'd jolt awake, angry, eyes wet.
I don't want dreams. I want the truth.
And the truth is… I'm alone. And I'll stay that way
Days passed—each one identical, each one empty.
Naruto woke up, ate whatever he could—usually cold, expired, or dry—and left for the Academy.
Always the first one out.
Always the last one to return.
It wasn't diligence.
It was active defense.
First out, to avoid comments about his smell, his worn-out clothes.
Last back, to avoid the crowds, the whispers, the hands that brushed him like he was filth.
---
One day, a student bumped into him by accident.
Naruto tensed.
His whole body reacted.
He almost struck back.
A reflex.
His fist stopped just inches from the boy's face.
A breath. A pulse.
A split second of animal instinct.
Then came the smile.
That wide, stupid grin—his usual disguise.
— "Oops! Almost smashed your face in! Sorry, dattebayo! Hahaha!"
The other boy stepped back, shaking.
Naruto apologized again, scratched his head like a fool, and walked away.
But deep inside…
> If you had looked at me for even one second longer… I would've crushed you without mercy.
---
In the shadows, Naruto was becoming a silent predator.
Thanks to the system, his body was changing in subtle ways.
He didn't grow faster than the others, no.
But his muscles were denser. His breathing, deeper. His reflexes, sharper.
He perceived things no one else seemed to notice:
– The slight asymmetry in a teacher's gait.
– The micro-tensions in Sasuke's neck when he was irritated.
– The faint variations in temperature in the hallways when an ANBU was watching from the shadows.
And he recorded everything.
Relentlessly.
---
> [Heightened Perception: +0.5]
[Behavioral Analysis: Skill Acquired]
[Lie Detection: 64% Accuracy]
---
His evenings were not just spent training his body.
He read.
Technical scrolls he stole from the library during the day.
Techniques he studied over the shoulders of unsuspecting chūnin in training.
And he remembered everything.
Photographically. Strategically.
> One day, I'll defeat a Jōnin without them even realizing how.
> Not through brute strength. But through understanding. Through combat reading.
---
At seven years old, Naruto already understood that in a real fight, intelligence often outweighed power.
So he became both.
---
One night, he trained in the forest—barefoot on a slippery branch, a bucket of water balanced on his head, eyes blindfolded.
He repeated the basic hand seals in total darkness.
Rewiring muscle memory. Reprogramming doubt. Automating movement.
A soft creak of wood made him freeze.
An ANBU was watching from afar.
Naruto didn't move.
He remained still, silent, hands frozen mid-seal.
The masked man eventually disappeared.
Naruto smiled.
> They know. They're beginning to realize I'm not normal.
> But as long as they don't interfere… I continue.
---
He developed his own training routines.
Jumping from tree to tree with leaves in his mouth to practice breath and balance.
Solving riddles while holding himself in painful balance poses.
Simulating conversations to practice emotional manipulation.
Physical. Mental. Control. Awareness. Improvisation.
Everything became a science.
And no one knew.
---
In class, Naruto played the clown.
But inside, he calculated every second.
He knew where every student sat, what they ate, their approximate chakra levels, their breathing patterns, their response time to insults.
He knew how to break them, how to charm them, how to avoid them.
But he wasn't interested in knowing them.
He wanted to dominate them.
---
Even Iruka wasn't immune to his analysis.
Naruto knew his habits, his tells when he lied, the subjects he avoided.
And most of all… that hidden sadness when he glanced at Naruto from the side.
> You want to believe in me, huh?
> You want me to be 'normal', right?
> But if you knew even half of what I am… you'd never look at me with hope again.
---
He didn't train so people would love him.
He didn't grow stronger to earn respect.
He pursued power because it was the only thing no one could take from him.
---
One day, he walked into class wearing a red cloth headband.
No symbol. No village insignia.
He wore it like a silent declaration:
> I'm not one of you. I belong to no one but myself.
No one understood it.
But everyone remembered it.
---
At eight years old, Naruto could disarm a full-grown adult with his eyes closed.
But he kept failing his exams.
On purpose.
> I don't want them to notice me too soon. I don't want to give them a reason to fear me more than they already do.
> I want to remain invisible. Until the moment I bring them all down at once.
---
And at night, lying in the dark, with a cracked ceiling above, he spoke into the silence.
— "I'm not a hero. I'm not a child. I'm not a demon."
He placed a hand on his chest, feeling the chakra stir deep within.
— "I'm what you made."
A survivor.
And soon…
> [Threshold reached. Latent Capacity: High Genin]
> [True Power Level: Chūnin+]
> … I will become something you'll never be able to control again.