In the arena, Neji Hyuga had already started betting on Naruto.
Not in coin or paper, but in expectation. In the future he'd seen hinted at through this impossible screening, Hinata might finally escape the torment of the caged bird seal. Even if Neji understood, rationally, that the curse mark protected the branch family as much as it shackled them, the pain of his childhood still made him reject it from the bottom of his heart.
And now, a Naruto even more frightening than the "landlord" version stood on that black-bordered screen—while Hinata, in some future yet to come, was clearly bound to him by feelings too deep to deny.
If that Naruto truly changed... then the Hyuga clan itself might one day be forced to change with him.
***
In the chat room, voices rose one after another.
Mei Terumi wrote first. "Did all of you see that eye just now?"
Sakura Haruno immediately replied, "Yeah... it felt terrifying. Naruto sometimes gets like that too!"
Mei Terumi's answer came quickly. "That should have been the Nine-Tails' chakra."
Shikamaru frowned and added his own thought. "But that's not the real problem. Before the Nine-Tails' chakra appeared, whose chakra was that?"
The question hung in the air.
Orochimaru, ever delighted by the strange and grotesque, took over the thread as if he had been waiting for exactly this moment.
"The Naruto in the black frame is very different from the Naruto here."
"That child is sharp-minded, calm, and far more independent."
"Which only makes me more curious about the chakra inside him besides the Nine-Tails."
Then, with deliberate malice, Orochimaru turned the knife.
"Sarutobi-sensei... does this have anything to do with you?"
The message dropped into the chat room like poison into still water.
Hiruzen Sarutobi nearly ground his teeth apart.
But the moment he thought of Tobirama Senju, he forced himself to answer.
"No. I know nothing about this either. I never used genjutsu or anything similar to control Naruto in our world."
Madara Uchiha gave a cold snort. "Don't flatter yourself. Even if you wanted to, you couldn't have done it. Not even your useless teacher could pull off something like that."
Hashirama blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"Brother!" Tobirama snapped, then suddenly paused. "Wait... if that's true..."
A beat later, his tone shifted.
"Madara. Don't you think black-frame Naruto feels... strangely familiar?"
That made Madara go still.
Hashirama laughed. "Really? Hahaha... maybe?"
But the screen didn't wait for any of them.
It moved on.
***
On the black-bordered screen, Naruto was curled up on the ground, both hands clutching his head. His small body trembled violently.
But it wasn't fear.
It wasn't even grief.
It was anger.
Hatred.
The boy was being torn apart by some strange force writhing through his mind.
A few of the people watching felt a stab of pity when they saw him like that. But for most, memory and fear were stronger. The disaster of the Nine-Tails still haunted Konoha. Their dead had not been buried deeply enough for reason to overcome resentment.
And once a crowd found permission to hate, guilt vanished faster than smoke in the wind.
Eggs flew.
Rotten vegetable leaves followed.
Pebbles and stones joined them, striking the child one after another.
"Fox demon, die!"
The insults rolled together, a storm of curses and spite. Then a small stone slammed into Naruto's head.
Everything changed.
Naruto's vision went dark for an instant.
Instinctively, he touched the spot that had been hit. When he pulled his hand back, it came away wet and warm. He looked down.
Blood.
The sharp scarlet color cut through his blurred vision like a blade.
His breath hitched.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He could hear his own heartbeat now—too loud, too close, as if it were pounding from inside his skull.
And in that instant, his deep blue eyes turned crimson.
At the same time, the tension in his body vanished. Not because the danger was gone, but because something inside him had finally gone quiet.
He propped himself up, one hand still covering his head, and sat upright.
"Finally," he murmured, voice low and rough, "it's quiet."
The next second, the red in his eyes faded. Azure returned.
And just like that, the muttering voice that had been pushing him toward patience and forgiveness disappeared as well.
On the viewing platform, Shikamaru's eyes widened.
"They held out," he blurted.
Then, realizing what he had just understood, he typed into the chat room at once.
"Black-frame Naruto is incredible."
Choji and Ino looked at him in confusion, but Shikamaru didn't bother explaining in person. He simply kept going.
"If you compare the two Narutos from the beginning, they were basically the same."
"So if black-frame Naruto kept hold of himself while gold-frame Naruto was turned into a puppet by all that mental interference..."
He let the implication finish itself.
Tobirama immediately replied. "The Nara clan? That theory makes sense."
Onoki burst out laughing. "Hahaha! I'm suddenly looking forward to when the Third Hokage appears even more."
Orochimaru added, "Count me in."
Hiruzen's face darkened. "Onoki, have I ever done anything that would invite heaven's wrath or public outrage?"
Before anyone else could answer, another line appeared.
Minato Namikaze: I did that before.
The arena froze.
The name alone was enough to silence half the village.
The Fourth Hokage.
The man who had died to protect Konoha from the Nine-Tails.
For a heartbeat, no one knew what to say.
Then Hiruzen spoke, still out of habit, still in the tone of a superior addressing a subordinate.
"Minato, you are also an inheritor of the Will of Fire. Are you planning to question me?"
It was the same voice he had used for years.
As though Minato had merely been a successor. As though the Fourth Hokage's office had never been little more than a shell. As though the power of governance had not remained, from the first day to the last, in Hiruzen Sarutobi's own hands.
The screen, indifferent to the storm it was causing, continued.
***
Now that the rambling voice in his head was gone, Naruto let out a shaky breath of relief.
At that exact moment, another pebble came slicing toward him.
He heard it clearly.
The whistle of it cutting the air rang beside his ear.
Naruto tilted his head just enough, and the stone missed.
A thought flashed through his mind.
From the very beginning, I could see all of these attacks.
His eyes narrowed.
Is this because I have chakra?
He remembered overheard scraps from the masked ninja, fragments of conversation not meant for him. Chakra. Training. Ninjutsu. Genjutsu.
"Doesn't chakra need to be refined?" he thought. "Then why can I do this?"
Could it have something to do with that cold, terrifying feeling from before?
Inside the sealed space, the Nine-Tails curled its lip into a smile.
The beast loved what it was seeing.
This black-frame Naruto—this version—was far more to its liking than the fool in the gold frame. If this continued, that world's Naruto would absolutely come to crave its power. And if the boy grew desperate enough, smart enough, angry enough...
He might even walk up to the seal himself and open the gate with his own hands.
Outside, another stone hurtled toward Naruto's face.
He dodged again.
"You want me to die?"
His voice was low at first, almost disbelieving.
"What did I do wrong?"
Another attack came. Another dodge.
"That hurts."
Then he bent down, grabbed a pebble from the dirt, rolled aside to avoid the next wave of thrown objects, and came up in a single motion.
His gaze locked onto the old woman who had thrown the first thing at him.
The ferocity in that gaze made her shiver.
Without hesitation, Naruto hurled the stone back.
He aimed for the exact same place she had aimed at him.
Her forehead.
A voice suddenly cut through the crowd.
"This fox demon dares fight back! Everyone, kill him!"
It was a strange voice.
Sharp. Commanding. Intentional.
And more importantly, it carried something hidden inside it—something that seemed to seize the crowd's already boiling emotions and shove them over the edge.
Naruto's pupils contracted.
The old woman staggered and collapsed to the ground.
There was no relief on his face at having struck back. No satisfaction. No triumph.
Only understanding.
So that's it.
They were doing it on purpose.
From the beginning.
That first shout, the leading accusations, the convenient timing, the way the crowd had been riled up—this hadn't been spontaneous hatred. Someone had lit the fire.
And what infuriated Naruto most wasn't even the attack.
It was the insult.
That whoever was behind it thought such a crude trick would be enough to manipulate him, enough to steer the entire mob, enough to decide whether he lived or died.
Naruto's anger sharpened into something fierce and lucid.
"So you want to kill me?"
His voice rose.
"Fox demon—whatever that even means, I don't care anymore!"
He was shaking now, not from fear but from rage so violent it made his whole body hum.
"If I really am some fox demon..."
He lifted his head fully, glaring at every face around him.
"Then I'll kill every single one of you right now!"
***
In the viewing arena, silence crashed down.
That line struck harder than any blow.
Because everyone could hear it—what made it terrifying wasn't that Naruto had said it.
It was that, for the first time, he sounded like someone who actually might mean it.
In the Pure Land, Kushina wiped tears from her face with the back of her hand. Her eyes, bright and wet and furious, remained fixed on the screen.
"That's it, Naruto," she said hoarsely.
Then she slammed her message into the chat room.
"Good!"
"That's right!"
"Never let them treat you like prey!"
Her fury trembled through every word, but there was pride mixed in now too—a savage, protective pride only a mother could feel.
Back in the arena, many of Konoha's villagers had gone pale.
Until now, they had always relied on one assumption.
Naruto would endure.
Naruto would smile foolishly.
Naruto would forgive.
Naruto would remain the same idiot who could be hurt again and again and still wag his tail for scraps of kindness.
But the Naruto in the black frame shattered that illusion.
He could observe.
He could think.
He could remember patterns, question motives, trace the source of malice, and distinguish random cruelty from deliberate orchestration.
And worst of all for the people of Konoha—he could retaliate.
Gold-frame Naruto scratched his head in confusion as he watched. He still couldn't fully fit what he was seeing together in his mind. The boy on the screen was him, and yet not him.
Stronger, colder, clearer.
Neji, who had been watching him all this time, could already see the difference.
That was why he had placed his bet.
Not because Naruto was kind.
Not because Naruto was loud.
Not because Naruto shouted about never giving up.
But because somewhere inside him, beneath the confusion and manipulation and forced foolishness, there had always been another possibility.
Another Naruto.
One who did not forget.
One who did not yield.
One who could turn pain into a blade.
And if that Naruto could do it, then perhaps the one standing here now could too.
Maybe Hinata's future really could change.
Maybe the Hyuga could change.
Maybe Konoha itself would one day be forced to pay for everything it had buried under excuses about the Will of Fire.
On the black-bordered screen, little Naruto still stood amid the wreckage of rotten eggs and human spite, breathing hard, blood and yolk mingling on his face.
He looked small.
He looked hurt.
But no one looking at him now could mistake him for weak.
The chapter of his suffering had not ended.
If anything, it had only just begun.
But for the first time, the people watching understood something chilling.
If they kept pushing this child to the edge...
the one they were creating might become far more frightening than the monster they imagined.