Having settled his resolve for the future, Naruto suddenly felt his stomach growl. Right—he hadn't eaten anything since waking up this morning.
He walked over to the small refrigerator in the apartment, hoping to find something to fill his stomach. But when he opened it, all he found was a single carton of milk. He picked it up, ready to drink straight from the carton—then froze midway. Some instinct made him check the date. "…Yeah, thought so. Expired. "
He sighed helplessly. Good thing he remembered that the original Naruto often drank expired stuff; otherwise, he'd probably be hugging the toilet in ten minutes, spraying like a water cannon.
Since there was no food at home, he rummaged around and found the frog-shaped wallet—the only one the original Naruto had. Inside were the remnants of this month's living expenses.
He changed into Naruto's trademark orange outfit, grabbed the wallet, and headed out.
The streets of Konoha were bustling with life. Even early in the morning, both sides of the road were lined with all kinds of shops—dumpling stands, barbecue joints, grocery stores, ninja tool shops—the air filled with laughter and chatter.
The villagers' faces were relaxed, full of the pride and peace that came with living in the strongest ninja village in the world. But the moment Naruto appeared—that warmth vanished. The smiles faded. The friendly chatter died.
Everywhere he went, eyes turned cold. It was like someone had flipped a switch—one second they were ordinary villagers, the next, they became strangers with venom in their eyes.
Had he not witnessed it himself, Naruto would've never believed human expressions could change so quickly.
"Th-that's the demon fox! " "Stay away from him! " "He killed my parents—why isn't he dead yet! ?" "Monster! Murderer! " "Ugh! I don't know why Lord Hokage still lets that thing live here! " "Yōko, remember—don't ever play with that demon fox, understand? He eats people! " "Yes, Mom! I remember! "
All around, the venomous whispers grew louder. Every step Naruto took through the crowd, he felt their hatred pressing down on him.
He had seen these memories before—but living them was another story. His little fists clenched at his sides.
How could he not be angry? His parents had given their lives to protect this very village. They were its greatest heroes—and their son was being spat on by the very people they'd saved.
And the worst part? The so-called village leaders—Sarutobi Hiruzen and his cronies—knew exactly what was happening. They just didn't care.
Oh sure, after the villagers had pelted him with rocks and split his head open yesterday, the Third Hokage had "mercifully" issued a decree forbidding people from attacking Naruto again. And that was it. A decree. No punishment, no justice. And of course, no one followed it.
Naruto could barely imagine how the original had grown up in this nightmare, and still somehow dreamed of becoming Hokage to protect these people.
Honestly? He had to admire that kind of foolish purity. Because he sure didn't have it.
Maybe the kid had been brainwashed since childhood. Or maybe the "Will of Fire" was just a long-term hypnosis experiment.
Either way, that wasn't him.
He thought of a saying from his previous life: "I love it when people hate me but can't do anything about it. " That would be him—someday.
Right now, though, he was too weak to fight back. A cub had to grow before it could bare its fangs. So he swallowed his anger, but not his memory.
He would remember everything. Every glare. Every insult. Every stone.
And when the time came—he'd make them all pay.
He wasn't some saint who believed in forgiving his enemies. He wasn't here to "repay hatred with kindness. " He was here to settle debts.
Lost in thought, Naruto didn't notice he'd reached the little grocery store the original Naruto used to frequent. He checked his wallet before entering.
Only eighty ryō left for the month.
To put that in perspective—a bowl of Ichiraku Ramen cost sixty ryō. So yeah. That was one meal. If he bought ramen now, he'd be broke until next month.
So he decided to be practical. Instant noodles—twenty ryō a cup. Sixty ryō could buy three. Three cups a day could stretch for a month—barely.
That's how the original survived.
He stepped into the store—but before he could take two steps, the shopkeeper barked at him from behind the counter.
"Hey! You! Demon fox! " "I've got no expired noodles for you today. Nothing for sale. Get out! "
Before Naruto could even respond, the man shoved him back out the door.
Naruto stumbled, barely keeping his balance. He stared for a moment, then understood. Expired noodles, huh…
He remembered now. The original Naruto had always eaten the expired products this man couldn't sell. The owner even charged full price for them.
And Naruto had been grateful—because at least someone would sell to him.
That same kindness now felt like bile in his throat.
Naruto exhaled slowly. He looked at the man, and with an utterly calm face, said two words: "You're pathetic. "
Then he turned and walked away.
He wasn't going to give this man a single coin. He'd rather go hungry than feed those who spat on him.
Behind him, the shopkeeper blinked, confused by the strange words. It took a moment for him to realize it was an insult. Then he flushed with anger.
"That damned demon fox! He—he mocked me! "
But Naruto was already gone, hands in pockets, walking down the busy street as if the whole world were beneath notice.
People instinctively stepped aside, keeping two or three meters between them and the "monster. " A lone figure among the crowd. A shadow among the light.
To them, he was an outcast. But to himself—he was a beast in a cage, biding his time. Waiting for the day the cage broke.
Antelopes move in herds, but beasts walk alone.