The morning air was cool, scented faintly with salt from the distant ocean as Team 7 walked behind Tazuna and his fellow builders. The crunch of gravel beneath their feet and the occasional murmur of tired workers were the only sounds accompanying the sunrise.
Naruto walked a few steps behind the group, hands in his pockets, his eyes dull and stormy. He should've been focused on the surroundings—after all, danger could strike anytime. But today, his heart wasn't in it.
His master's words echoed in his mind like a quiet storm—
"Your body has yet to reach the true potential of the Second Stage of Refinement."
"Second stage…" he muttered to himself, fingers tightening around the hilt of his blade strapped to his back. His thumb traced a chip on the guard—a scar from his last battle.
His gaze drifted across the group until it landed on Kakashi and Sasuke standing near a half-finished scaffold. Kakashi was giving soft instructions as Sasuke activated the Sharingan. The boy's crimson eyes shimmered under the golden morning light, a single tomoe in each iris slowly spinning as he concentrated.
Naruto narrowed his eyes.
Those eyes… he thought, so much pain and power trapped in them. Like a caged beast forced to dance on a leash of vengeance.
But something deeper tugged at his perception. Naruto extended his spiritual senses, a technique refined through countless hours of Qi meditation and Void perception. The world dimmed, fading into a mosaic of chakra and spiritual energy. Sasuke's chakra flared into view—dark, stormy Yin chakra coiling like smoke. Sharp. Potent. But his Yang chakra…
It was faint. Weak. Like a flickering candle in a storm.
"Unbalanced," Naruto thought grimly. "The Sharingan feeds off Yin. But without the warmth and vitality of Yang… it's eating away at him. He won't last. Or worse… it'll consume his soul."
He closed his eyes.
And sank into himself.
---
The world vanished in an instant, like mist burned away by the sun, and Naruto descended into his inner world—a vast realm of swirling chakra, cold winds, and distant thunder. Towering above it all were the great iron bars that sealed away the Nine-Tailed Fox.
A dull red glow pulsed between the cracks, as if the bars were bleeding light.
Naruto stepped closer, his footsteps echoing in the quiet void.
"Kurama," he called out.
A massive form shifted in the shadows. The great fox opened one eye, revealing a pupil like a slit of fire.
"Hmph. You again." Kurama's voice was low, ancient, tired. "What do you want now, boy?"
"I saw Sasuke use the Sharingan," Naruto said, his voice calm but firm. "I need to know more. About that eye. And about… the past."
Kurama stirred, one of his nine tails twitching like a snake. "Why the sudden interest?"
"Because…" Naruto hesitated. The emotions he'd bottled for so long began to churn—confusion, anger, empathy. "Because his chakra is imbalanced. That eye… it's powerful, but it's cursed, isn't it?"
The great fox's gaze sharpened, his amber eye locking with Naruto's.
"Yes… a curse born from blood, hatred, and ambition."
Kurama stood, his fur blazing like wildfire, tails unfurling like rivers of flame behind him. "It began with Indra Ōtsutsuki… son of the Sage of Six Paths. The origin of the Sharingan. His descendants—the Uchiha—carried his pride, his anger, his insatiable hunger for strength."
As he spoke, flickers of images formed in the air. Wars. Betrayals. A boy standing over a battlefield of corpses, Sharingan glowing with bloodlust.
"Madara Uchiha," Kurama continued. "The strongest of them all. His ambition nearly swallowed the world whole. And then… the masked man. A shadow from the Uchiha's bloodline. Another wielder of that cursed eye."
Naruto's head snapped up.
"…My father?" he asked, barely above a whisper.
Kurama's body stiffened. His tail stopped moving.
Silence.
"You weren't supposed to know that," he said, voice low and filled with regret.
"Tell me!" Naruto yelled. "No more half-truths!"
Kurama's massive form seemed to shrink. He sighed deeply. "Minato Namikaze. The Fourth Hokage. Your father. The man who sealed me into you."
Naruto stumbled back as if struck.
The words hit harder than any blade.
"You mean… the man who sealed you… the one who let me live like this—was my father?!" he shouted.
Kurama's ears flattened. "And your mother… Kushina Uzumaki. The previous Jinchuriki. She was strong. Fierce. She fought me with everything she had—because she loved you."
Naruto dropped to his knees, shaking. His mind flashed back—cold nights on park benches, villagers whispering as he walked by, a bowl of expired ramen for his birthday. The face of the Hokage carved into the mountain… never realizing the Fourth was his own father.
Why didn't anyone tell me? Why did they let me suffer like that… like a ghost in my own home?
His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white.
"They all knew," he whispered, voice hollow. "Kakashi. The Third. Maybe even Iruka. They watched me starve and ache and cry… and never said a word."
Kurama's voice was quieter now. "Maybe they thought they were protecting you. Or maybe… they were just too afraid of what the truth might mean."
Naruto looked up. His blue eyes, once bright, now shimmered with fury and hurt.
"I'll find out the truth," he said slowly. "Every piece of it."
He turned, his voice cold. "Kurama. Who else knew him? My father."
Kurama met his gaze. "Jiraiya… the Toad Sage. Your godfather. He knew your parents well. And… Kakashi Hatake. Your teacher. He was Minato's student."
Naruto's breath caught.
Kakashi knew. All this time… he knew.
His thoughts were spiraling, but somewhere deep inside, a sense of determination flared. I'll uncover the truth. All of it. And I'll become strong enough that no one can ever lie to me again.
---
That night, the small house where Team 7 stayed was quiet. Too quiet.
The builders had retired early. The lamps flickered gently as the smell of soup, rice, and dried fish lingered in the air. A worn-out radio played faint folk music in the background.
At the dinner table, Team 7 sat quietly, their bowls half-full.
Naruto sat slightly apart from the others, Lingxue, the Divine Fox Pup, curled up in his lap. Her icy-blue fur shimmered faintly, glowing softly under the lamplight. As Naruto fed her small bits of meat, his eyes remained distant.
Without warning, he pulled out a kunai and pricked his index finger.
Sakura gasped softly. "What are you doing?"
Naruto didn't answer immediately. Instead, he held the bleeding finger near Lingxue's mouth. She blinked, sniffed the blood, and then gently began sucking.
Kakashi raised an eyebrow. "She drinks your blood?"
"It strengthens our bond," Naruto said coolly. "And stabilizes her bloodline evolution."
Sasuke, who'd been staring quietly, leaned forward. "She's a fox… like the Nine-Tails?"
Naruto's eyes met his. "Something like that."
There was a silence, long and heavy.
Then Naruto looked at Sasuke directly. His voice low, but clear.
"You want power?"
Sasuke blinked. "What?"
Naruto leaned in. "I said… do you want to become stronger?"
Sasuke's jaw clenched. "Of course I do."
Naruto's voice turned clinical, focused. "Your Sharingan draws heavily on Yin Chakra. But your Yang is weak. That's why your growth is stalled. The eye drains your soul, but your body can't handle the weight."
The room had gone still. Even Kakashi was listening closely now, one eye narrowed.
"I can help," Naruto continued. "My master… he taught me a Body Refining Technique. It'll increase your Yang essence, make your body stronger, tougher, faster. It could balance your chakra."
Sasuke looked wary. "What's the catch?"
Naruto didn't hesitate. "Pain. And the risk of death. The technique uses spiritual flames and tempering materials to forge your body like a weapon. If your will is weak, you'll burn from the inside."
Sakura stood abruptly. "That's insane! Sasuke, you can't—"
"I want to do it," Sasuke said.
Everyone turned to him.
"I want to do it," he repeated, voice calm. "You said it yourself. If I keep going like this… I'll break. I need strength. No matter the cost."
Naruto studied him for a moment. Then nodded.
"Tomorrow. At the forest near the bridge."
Kakashi said nothing, but his fingers tightened around his chopsticks. He'd seen that look before—in Minato's eyes, just before he charged into battle with no fear of death. So it begins again…
---
Later that night, Sasuke stood at the window of his room, watching the stars. His Sharingan flickered briefly in the reflection of the glass.
Do I really trust him?
He closed his eyes and remembered Naruto standing bloodied, panting, shielding both him and Sakura against the Demon Brothers. He didn't hesitate to take the hit.
Then he thought of Itachi.
The massacre. The pain.
I will do whatever it takes.
Down the hall, Naruto sat in meditation, a single flame floating above his palm—Void Qi dancing like starlight.
He felt the weight of his father's name, of the secrets wrapped around him like chains. But he also felt something new.
Resolve.
---
To Be Continued...