At dawn, before the sun had fully risen, most of Konoha was still lost in dreams. A soft fog blanketed the village, casting everything in a pale haze.
Amid this mist, a boy in white robes stood out vividly—Naruto Uzumaki. His new outfit, white with red trim, was styled like a priest's ceremonial robe.
Yes, exactly like the one the Fourth Hokage used to wear.
Almost every day, Naruto woke this early. He'd start training before the sun came up and wouldn't stop until the village came to life.
In this place—no video games, no nightlife, no real entertainment—and with nearly everyone around him holding him in contempt, all Naruto could do was train. And train. And train some more.
Only training. Always training.
That's how Naruto survived those unbearable years.
He threw himself into it—losing himself in the act, intoxicated by the grind. He challenged his limits constantly, until training became indistinguishable from daily life.
Training is addictive, and Naruto was completely hooked. Like a certain "teacher" of his: Kakarot, or rather, Son Goku.
By the time Naruto finally "woke up," he was already this strong.
You could even say that half his strength came courtesy of Konoha's villagers.
(Not that he felt any gratitude toward them, of course.)
---
The sky slowly brightened. Pale light bled over the horizon, as if the clouds had soaked up blood and were now tinged red. The scent of wet flowers lingered in the air. The night's rain had washed away the dust and grime, leaving behind the pungent aroma of wet pieris blossoms drifting in the wind—sharp enough to make anyone roll their eyes.
Naruto walked Konoha's busiest street at a steady pace, passing by the few early risers.
"Am I seeing things?" muttered a vendor setting up his stall. He rubbed his eyes. "Was that… the Fourth Hokage just now?"
And he wasn't the only one who thought so.
As Naruto aged, he looked more and more like Minato Namikaze. And now, dressed just like the Fourth, he could easily be mistaken for a miniature version of him.
But rather than stirring nostalgia, his resemblance evoked the opposite reaction.
"That's not the Fourth Hokage," another villager said coldly, his face dark.
"That's him."
Him.
The unspoken name.
In Konoha, no one dared say it aloud—but everyone understood. A secret that everyone knew but no one acknowledged.
"He's trying to mimic the Fourth, huh?" another muttered.
You'd think that looking and dressing like the Fourth would make people see Naruto in a different light, right?
Wrong. Absolutely not.
If anything, the villagers hated him even more.
Because he looked too much like the Fourth Hokage.
Some had their suspicions, of course. Rumors swirled about a possible connection between Naruto and the Fourth. But such speculation never gained traction—it always vanished without a trace.
"That demon fox couldn't be the Fourth's…"
"It mustn't be the Fourth's."
Because if that were true… that would mean they had been wrong all along.
So they clung to another, more "believable" tale:
"The Nine-Tailed Demon Fox has a cursed ability—it turns into the person it kills."
"If you start to feel pity for it, you're next."
It was obviously nonsense. A ridiculous urban legend without the slightest logic.
Yet it had become mainstream. Even many average shinobi believed it.
And the major clans—who knew the truth—chose to stay silent.
So the more Naruto looked like the Fourth, the more the villagers resented him.
If Naruto had some kind of negative-emotion point system, he'd probably have ascended to godhood by now.
But Naruto?
He didn't care at all. He walked his own path, unfazed.
Feeling the hostility around him, he didn't feel aggrieved. In fact… he almost found it funny.
"Hate me all you want—you'll just have to live with it."
"And if anyone really wants to take a swing… they can go report to Root afterward."
"I'm not that same punching bag I used to be."
---
Naruto stopped in front of a large, traditional gate.
He stood there in silence, waiting patiently.
3… 2… 1…
With a soft creak, the door opened, and a timid girl with a pageboy haircut and Byakugan eyes stepped out.
"Good morning, Hinata-chan," Naruto greeted her with a bright smile.
That smile… made Hinata freeze in place, entranced.
She stared for several seconds before snapping back to reality. Her face flushed red, and she looked down, nervously fidgeting with her fingers.
"G-Good morning, Naruto-kun."
"Come on, let's go to the Academy," Naruto said cheerfully, gently grabbing her hand and pulling her along.
Naruto-kun held her hand.
Hinata's face burned. Her thoughts focused entirely on their interlocked fingers. Her head spun, her blood rushed in reverse—she even forgot how to breathe.
But the moment Naruto touched her soft, small hand, his expression subtly changed.
He quickly, discreetly glanced at her face—and noticed a faint scratch on her delicate cheek.
Hyūga clan training.
She had lost a spar against Hanabi, her younger sister by five years, and had been stripped of her status as clan heir.
So she's no longer the successor of the Hyūga Clan?
That's not necessarily a bad thing.
---
"Hinata-chan," Naruto said, still smiling, "starting today, you don't have to watch me train in secret anymore."
"Come train with me. I'll teach you personally."
Hinata froze, staring at him. That smile—it was almost overwhelming. She nodded earnestly, forgetting to even be shy.
"Mm!"
Then, just as Naruto raised an eyebrow in surprise, Hinata fainted from embarrassment.
"N-Naruto-kun… s-said he wants to train with me…
---
In the classroom, the girls were gossiping like always.
Their favorite topics:
Hot. Cool. Sasuke.
Occasionally they'd mention Naruto—usually just to say something bad.
Naruto gently placed the unconscious Hinata in her seat, then looked toward Sasuke, who sat in the row behind him.
"You're really popular, huh?"
"Tch. Such a pain," Sasuke muttered, clearly annoyed. "That time would be better spent training. I still haven't mastered that Fire Release jutsu you taught me."
Then, with a hint of surprise, he added,
"It's rare to see the real you in class today."
Sasuke had long since figured out Naruto's secret—he often used Shadow Clones to sit through class for him. Sasuke's own clones weren't as good, so he could only get away with using them once in a while.
---
"Enjoy this last year of school while you can," Naruto said, almost wistfully.
"A year from now, we won't have time for this anymore."
There was a deeper meaning in his words—one only Sasuke understood.
Naruto leaned in slightly and whispered, just loud enough for Sasuke to hear:
"Right, Pretty Boy at the Crossroads?"
Naruto. Karin. Sasuke. Neji. Lee.
Each of them had code names.
Naruto was Uzumaki.
Karin was Tomie.
Sasuke's was... "Pretty Boy at the Crossroads."
"I told you—don't call me that!!"
Sasuke's face turned bright red.
And so, laughter filled the classroom.
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