Now that he had awakened power far beyond the norm, Naruto knew one thing for certain—he couldn't afford to be high-profile.
Not in this world. Not at this stage.
The timing was precarious. The events of the original timeline were on the verge of transitioning into the era of Shippuden. War clouds loomed faintly on the horizon, and powerful factions—Akatsuki among them—were already moving in the shadows. And he? He was still the Jinchūriki of the Kyūbi, the Nine-Tails. A natural lightning rod for conflict.
If he were to draw too much attention now, before his foundation was secure, it would spell disaster.
He couldn't play the fool anymore—not like the original Naruto did. Altruism was admirable, but blind sacrifice? That wasn't his path. He had no intention of being anyone's pawn or savior. Not yet. He would keep his head down, gather power, accumulate resources, and prepare.
And when the time was right—he would rise.
What thrilled him most, what sent a pulse of excitement surging through his chakra pathways, was this bizarre duality he now possessed. By some twist of fate—whether divine mistake or cosmic prank—he now occupied both Naruto's body and the Kyūbi's.
He didn't just have the Nine-Tails sealed inside him. He was the Nine-Tails. One consciousness. Two forms.
His own body held Naruto's soul and memories, but within the seal, he could also move as Kurama himself. Two identities bound under one will. Perfect synchronization.
If such control could be honed, if he played his cards with care, there was no doubt in his mind—he could surpass even the likes of the Ōtsutsuki.
But outside, in the waking world, chaos brewed.
Jiraiya coughed blood into his sleeve as he staggered, his body still reeling from the violent burst of chakra earlier. He had nearly activated Sage Mode in desperation, sensing that the Nine-Tails might break free.
But then—just as suddenly as it had flared—the malevolent chakra vanished.
Gone, like smoke.
Confused and tense, Jiraiya hesitated mid-hand sign. Was it over? Was Naruto safe?
He didn't dare act until he understood what had happened.
Inside the training field, Naruto's body twitched, then slowly stirred. His eyes opened.
The world around him was cracked and broken—tree trunks split, stones shattered, the air still thrumming faintly with residual chakra. Evidence of the tail-end of a transformation.
He exhaled slowly. The memory was fresh.
He had directly confronted Kurama within the seal. But unlike the original Naruto, he hadn't needed to wrestle for control. Kurama had never been an enemy in this scenario. They were one and the same. The "conflict" had been an illusion maintained only for show.
Jiraiya limped toward him, eyes sharp despite the fatigue weighing on his frame.
"Naruto," he said cautiously, "How did you… control the Nine-Tails' chakra without going berserk?"
A dangerous question. Jiraiya had clearly seen something he wasn't meant to see.
Naruto, to his credit, didn't hesitate. He wore a sheepish grin, voice light.
"Heh… sorry, Pervy Sage. Just when the Nine-Tails was about to break free, my dad showed up inside the seal."
Jiraiya blinked. "Minato?"
"Yeah. He had a backup in the seal, I guess. Stopped it from going out of control."
It was a lie, of course. But a convenient one. Letting Jiraiya believe that Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage, had left behind some contingency was better than telling the truth. The truth—that Naruto was now something more—was a risk he couldn't afford.
"So that's how it is…" Jiraiya muttered, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Minato… you really did think ahead."
Then, after a pause, he added, "Naruto. You know who you are now, right? About your parents?"
Naruto nodded, still smiling.
"Yeah. I figured it out. Honestly, knowing my dad was the Fourth Hokage makes me feel proud. I'm going to aim even higher now. One day, I'll surpass him. I'll become Hokage."
The words fell naturally from his mouth, carried by the echoes of the original Naruto's dreams—and reinforced by the reincarnated soul's own ambition.
Jiraiya gave him a long look, then smiled back. That was the Naruto he knew. Foolish. Bold. Determined.
"I see," he said. "Then let's not waste time."
"What do you mean?"
Jiraiya straightened with effort, blood still crusting on his chin. "I was planning to rest for a while, but forget it. We're heading to Mount Myōboku. I need to recover, and you—if you really want to become Hokage—need to start learning Sage Mode."
Naruto's heart stirred.
Perfect.
Some of Minato's residual memories had hinted at senjutsu training, but the details were vague. If he wanted to master the power of nature energy before the original timeline allowed for it, Jiraiya was the only teacher who could get him there now.
"I'm ready," Naruto said.
Jiraiya nodded and slapped his hand on Naruto's shoulder, weaving hand signs with the other.
In a puff of smoke and a flash of reversed summoning, both disappeared from the training field.
Mount Myōboku greeted them with its usual vibrant stillness. Towering mushrooms. Mist-covered ponds. The scent of moss and wet bark. Time seemed to pass differently here.
But concern broke through the calm.
"Jiraiya!" came a familiar voice.
Fukasaku, one of the elder toads, rushed over, his wide yellow eyes scanning the bloodied Sannin. "What happened to you?! Who hurt you?"
"It's a long story…" Jiraiya muttered, leaning on Naruto for support.
When the tale was relayed—Kurama's chakra flaring wildly, the near loss of control, the seal almost breaking—Fukasaku turned his gaze to Naruto.
"So… this is the Nine-Tails Jinchūriki, huh?"
Shima appeared from behind him, eyeing Naruto with interest. "Looks like a sturdy young lad. I'll make you a fine meal to help with your training."
Naruto's smile froze.
He knew what was coming.
Shima's food—bugs, worms, and things that squirmed—was legendary in the worst way.
"No thanks," Naruto said quickly, hands raised in mock defense. "We brought our own food."
Jiraiya gave him a knowing look, sharing in the quiet trauma.
Once introductions were finished, Fukasaku led Jiraiya away for treatment, while Naruto was left to prepare.
Jiraiya had already made the request.
"Train the boy in senjutsu," he told Fukasaku. "Teach him what I couldn't finish."
And Fukasaku agreed.
Thus began Naruto's time at Mount Myōboku.
A month passed.
Each day was filled with meditation, stillness, and pain.
The nature energy fought against his human limits at every turn. But Naruto—reincarnated soul and beast incarnate—was nothing if not adaptive.
He meditated beneath waterfalls, balanced on wooden poles, endured the searing channeling of raw senjutsu.
And all the while, in the back of his mind, his plan continued to unfold.