The path to the Academy was the same as every morning, lined with the same gray-tiled houses and the same wary or indifferent faces. But for Naruto, the world had been redrawn. Each step resonated with newfound confidence, a lightness he had never felt before. He didn't leap as he usually did—he floated, almost, his movements imbued with an instinctive grace. The air vibrated around him, filled with the murmurs of life, the unfinished conversations of passersby, the fleeting thoughts he could now perceive with disarming clarity.
He heard the scornful whispers that he used to ignore—or respond to with anger.
"Look, it's the fox brat."
"I hope he fails."
Once, those words would have pierced him like knives. Today, they were only faint echoes, meaningless ripples in the ocean of sensations that surrounded him. His Eye of the Multiverse allowed him to see beyond words, to perceive the gloomy energy—the troubled chakra—of those who spoke them. There was fear, ignorance, but also a certain weakness he had never noticed before.
He looked at them without resentment, with a strange sense of understanding.
Upon arriving at the Academy, the atmosphere was electric. The courtyard was crowded with aspiring ninjas, their anxious parents standing off to the side, the air thick with hope and nervous anticipation. Naruto spotted Sasuke, sitting apart, looking as indifferent as ever—but with his new eyes, Naruto could see a swirling mass of dark and powerful chakra within him, a burning ambition and a well-hidden sadness.
Sakura and Ino were bickering over who would be the first to congratulate Sasuke after the exam, their auras pulsing with adolescent rivalry. Sakura's, in particular, vibrated with raw potential—untapped, yet undeniably present.
Shikamaru was already yawning, his lazy aura covering a sharp, intricate intellect, a web of fast-moving thoughts Naruto could almost feel. Chōji munched on a bag of chips, his aura friendly and his chakra abundant—simple, yet powerful.
Their presences were like symphonies of colors and vibrations that Naruto had never been able to perceive before.
He sat in his usual spot at the back of the classroom, fidgeting to stay in character, but inwardly, he was perfectly calm—an almost divine serenity. The exam began. The first parts were theoretical, and Naruto, who would normally have failed miserably, answered with unsettling ease. The information came to him as if it were self-evident, the Multiverse seemingly having infused him with a vast library of knowledge. He noted that he didn't even need to try—the answers simply appeared.
He wrote down the most basic responses, not wanting to appear too intelligent too soon.
Then came the practical test: the Clone Jutsu (Bunshin no Jutsu).
"Alright, kids! Time to prove you've got what it takes to become ninjas of Konoha!" called Iruka-sensei, wearing his usual encouraging smile. Mizuki-sensei, at his side, had a more ambiguous grin.
The students went one by one. Naruto watched them closely. He saw the chakra reserves of some, the flawed techniques of others. When his turn came, a flicker of nervousness—residual from his former self—tried to surface, but the latent power within him swept it away. He stepped in front of Iruka and Mizuki, his heart beating with steady, powerful rhythm.
"Alright, Naruto. Show us your Bunshin," said Iruka, his gaze carrying the usual weariness mixed with persistent hope.
Naruto took a deep breath. "Okay, I need to pretend to fail at first," he told himself. He performed the hand signs, focused his chakra as he always had—and the result was his usual scrawny, pale, half-formed clone, which collapsed in a puff of smoke.
Iruka sighed, a bit of disappointment showing on his face. "One more time, Naruto. Focus."
Mizuki chuckled quietly. "It's a lost cause, Iruka. Some kids just don't have the talent."
Mizuki's gaze briefly met his, and Naruto—thanks to the Eye of the Multiverse—caught a flicker of darkness, a deceitful intent, an unusual chakra flow hidden beneath his smiling facade. "Interesting," Naruto thought.
He lowered his head, feigning disappointment. "This is the moment," he decided. He took another breath, closing his eyes for a second. This time, he didn't focus on his chakra—but on the energy of Creation flowing within him. He channeled a tiny, infinitesimal fraction of that cosmic power. He didn't want to create a thousand perfect clones and attract global attention. Just one—or maybe two—absolutely flawless, yet outwardly "normal." A clone even Iruka could believe was the result of a late breakthrough.
He opened his eyes again, their iridescent gold replaced by the bright blue Iruka knew so well. He performed the hand signs.
"Bunshin no Jutsu!"
A light puff of smoke appeared, then dissipated to reveal not one, but two clones—absolutely perfect. They were as solid, as real, as Naruto as the original, each one mirroring his mischievous grin to perfection. They stood tall, unmoving, with no sign of weakness.
Iruka-sensei's eyes widened. His mouth parted slightly, his face painted with a mix of pure surprise and silent pride. Mizuki-sensei, on the other hand, was struck speechless, his usual smile frozen on his face before slowly shifting into a barely noticeable frown, tinged with a sharp curiosity.
"Congratulations, Naruto! You did it!" Iruka exclaimed, his voice full of genuine joy. He pulled out a Konoha forehead protector and held it out to Naruto, eyes shining.
It was a moment of triumph—but for Naruto, it carried a new depth. He accepted it, his heart tight with emotion. He looked at Iruka-sensei, and thanks to his new perception, he saw beyond the role of teacher. He saw Iruka's genuine kindness, his concern, the hope he had always held for him. It was a warm, comforting aura.
"Thank you, Iruka-sensei," said Naruto, his voice deeper and more sincere than usual. He bowed—a rare gesture from him—and the bond between them strengthened in a way only Naruto could truly perceive.
Mizuki was still watching him, a new curiosity in his eyes. The dark flow of energy around him remained, though he was clearly trying to mask it. "That kid… he did something different," Mizuki thought, a hint of jealousy and opportunism beginning to sprout in his mind.