Naruto secretly enters the village for the first time since his betrayal
Observes people he once cared for from the shadows
Conflicting emotions as he sees Hinata, Neji, Tsunade, Ino, Tenten, and others fighting for something in his memory
Jiraiya is lost in thought about the prophecy
Naruto feels warmth for the first time in years… but cannot embrace it
Ends with silent decision: one day, he'll show them — but not now
The Leaf still smelled the same.
Even in the dead of night, under cloaked skies and chakra suppression layered threefold, Naruto felt the scent of burning lantern oil, wet earth, and tree sap that never left the roots of the Hidden Village.
He hadn't been here in years.
He shouldn't be here now.
And yet… here he was.
Standing atop the outer wall, cloak fluttering just barely in the breeze. Masked in shadow, eyes glowing faintly behind a thin suppression seal. His steps made no sound. His chakra… didn't exist.
To the village, he was a ghost.
To himself… he wasn't sure.
He didn't know why he came.
Maybe for the eye Kakashi still carried — the one that once belonged to Obito, the one he would soon need to complete his evolution.
But maybe…
Just maybe…
He needed to see.
If anyone still remembered him.
He walked through the rooftops like mist.Like the boy he used to be.Jumping tile to tile, silently watching.
The training grounds were lit, even at midnight.
And that's where he saw her.
Hinata.
Her stance was perfect. Refined. Deadly. She wasn't a girl anymore—she was a storm in silence.
She moved through her Hyūga forms with more fluidity than any clan heir he'd ever seen, sweat glistening on her skin, chakra lines visible even to his eyes.
But it was her eyes that made him pause.
Focused.
But sad.
Every movement—every punch, every palm rotation—it was like she was chasing something.
Someone.
His chest twisted.
She whispered something between movements.
His ears caught it.
"Naruto-kun..."
He moved on.
Near the river's edge, he found Neji.
Sparring with Tenten, chakra blades clashing, pressure blasting trees apart.
Neji was calm, but… not cold.
And Tenten was shouting between hits:
"Faster! You said you'd surpass him, right?! Then DO IT!"
Neji didn't reply, but his next strike shattered a boulder in half.
Naruto lingered.
They were pushing each other. Growing. Not because they wanted power.
Because they missed him.
He crossed the rooftops toward the Hokage tower.
He didn't enter.
He just watched from the shadows as Tsunade poured over stacks of papers and scrolls, her hands trembling ever so slightly, her eyes distant.
She opened one scroll — it had his name.
A red seal. A personal investigation.
She hadn't stopped looking.
She hadn't believed the lie.
He turned away. His throat was tight, but no tears came.
They never came anymore.
Ino was outside the flower shop.
She was crying softly into her hands.
A photo sat beside her — team photo.
She whispered something over and over.
He couldn't make it out.
But he felt it in her chakra.Grief.Regret.Something unresolved.
And then there was Jiraiya.
Sitting on the roof of his old house. Sake bottle untouched.
The old man looked like a ruin.
He stared at the stars.
Naruto crept closer — but not too close.
Jiraiya was muttering.
"…Minato, what did we do wrong?"
He poured the sake into the wind.
"The prophecy's done, old friend. I taught the child of prophecy. And now… the world will burn."
He didn't sound angry.
He sounded tired.
So tired.
Naruto couldn't look away.
But he couldn't step forward either.
He wanted to.
Just once.
But his feet didn't move.
He sat above the village for a long time that night. Long after even the lanterns dimmed. Watching the ones who still believed in him, even after the world turned against him.
And he realized something.
He wasn't as alone as he told himself.
He couldn't return.
Not yet.
But when he did…
He wouldn't destroy them.
Not these few.
The rest?
The liars, the cowards, the ones who smiled at his name while they danced on his grave?
They would burn.
But for the ones still waiting…
He would show them the truth.
The storm was still coming.
But maybe, just maybe—
There were a few hearts worth sparing.