Konohagakure No Sato :
Exclusive Training Ground :
Naruto places a new lolipop in his mouth and activates all his Combat Mode Skills. Dynamic Vision , Keen eyes , MindHub . Naruto also focuses his Sharp Mind & Hound's Senses . Getting ready in stance , Naruto speaks
" Bring it On "
Hattori didn't wait. He moved with a speed that made Naruto's Dynamic Vision blur. Naruto tried to engage Mindhub to calculate the trajectory of the incoming strike, but before his Sharp Mind could process , Hattori's palm slammed into his chest.
Naruto flew backward, skidding through the dirt.
"Too slow," Hattori remarked, already closing the gap. "Don't think. If you think, you're dead. Let the body react before the mind catches up."
The next hour was a blur of dust and impact. Every time Naruto tried to rely on his high-speed cognitive skills, Hattori exploited the millisecond of lag between 'thought' and 'action.'
Naruto was kicked into the trees, swept off his feet, and pinned to the ground more times than he could count .
Bruised and panting, Naruto realized his lollipop was gone—smashed somewhere in the dirt. His head began to throb. The "Mindhub" skill was processing the pain, analyzing every bruise with agonizing detail.
Naruto forced himself up, his Inner Strength allowing him to ignore the screaming protests of his muscles. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a fresh lemon-flavored lollipop, and tore the wrapper off with his teeth.
As the sour citrus hit his tongue, his Hound's Senses picked up the subtle scent of sweat and shifting air that preceded Hattori's next move.
Pain explodes across Naruto's ribs as something slams into his side—hard, precise, and merciless. The impact drives the air from his lungs in a sharp, choking gasp, his feet lifting off the ground before he even realizes he's been hit.
He flies across the dirt.
"—Ghk!"
Naruto rolls instinctively, coughing, palms scraping raw against gravel as he forces himself up—
Only for a fist to crash into his shoulders .
Something cracks.
Not bone—yet—but the shock rattles straight through his frame, numbing his arm instantly. His fingers refuse to close. His vision blurs.
Too fast.
Way too fast.
Hattori Sensei doesn't pause. Doesn't lecture. Doesn't give feedback.
A shin slams into Naruto's thigh.
His leg buckles.
The ground rushes up to meet him, knocking the breath from his lungs again. Dust fills his mouth. He tastes dirt and copper.
( Move dammit )
Naruto doesn't think the word—his body does.
He rolls just as a heel smashes down where his head was a heartbeat ago, the impact cracking the earth with a dull thud. Pebbles jump.
Naruto scrambles backward on hands and knees, heart hammering, instincts screaming.
He barely raises his arms in time.
WHAM.
The block is sloppy. Late. Pain shoots up his forearms as the force drives them straight into his face. His head snaps back, stars bursting across his vision.
He stumbles.
Hattori is already inside his guard.
An elbow slams into Naruto's stomach.
Everything goes white.
Naruto folds around the blow, bile burning his throat as he retches dryly, legs shaking, sweat breaking out instantly. His chakra flares reflexively—but it's useless. Too slow. Too unfocused.
Hattori grabs him by the collar and throws him.
Naruto hits the ground hard, the impact rattling through his spine. His ears ring. His limbs feel heavy. Distant.
Naruto tries to push himself up.
A foot presses into his back, grinding him into the dirt.
"Too much thinking " Hattori says calmly."Not enough reacting."
The pressure lifts.
Naruto sucks in air greedily, chest burning, body screaming in protest. Every instinct tells him to stay down.
He forces himself up anyway.
His hands shake. His knees wobble.
But This time something was different .
He didn't look at Hattori's hands. He didn't calculate. He simply moved. He still got hit, but this time, he caught Hattori's sleeve, slowing the impact.
Hattori's eyes flickered with a hint of a smile. "Better. Only fifty-nine days and twenty-three hours to go."
Hattori steps forward again.
Naruto grits his teeth, raises his hands—sloppy, imperfect, trembling—
—but this time, he's ready to be hit.
And that makes all the difference.
Naruto groaned through the candy, but his Inner Strength kept his feet planted. This was the price of becoming a Hokage.
The next hour doesn't change much.
Hattori-sensei remains faster. Stronger. Cleaner.
Naruto gets beaten down again and again.
Every ten minutes, Hattori raises a hand.
"Break."
Naruto collapses where he stands, lungs burning, sweat soaking his clothes, muscles screaming in protest.
The Breaks are not long .Two—sometimes three—minutes. Barely enough time for his heartbeat to slow, barely enough to wipe the blood from his lip.
Then—
No warning.
No signal.
A shadow shifts.
Naruto barely has time to register the intent before pain crashes into him again.
A kick to the ribs.
A hammering fist to his back.
The ground rushes up. Dirt fills his mouth. His vision swims.
Ambush.
Always an ambush.
Hattori never approaches the same way twice. Sometimes from the front, sometimes from the blind side, sometimes from above—using the trees, the slope of the terrain, even Naruto's own exhaustion against him.
Naruto learns quickly that waiting is death.
He starts standing during breaks.
Starts turning his head even while gasping for air.
Starts listening—with his ears
Starts smelling -with his nose
Another ambush.
Naruto doesn't block in time.
But he moves.
The blow that would have shattered his collarbone glances off his shoulder instead. The pain still hits, but it doesn't end him.
He stumbles back, barely upright.
Hattori presses him again immediately.
Naruto's arms rise without conscious thought.
Too slow.
Still too slow.
But closer.
Each hit hurts just as much as the first. That doesn't change. What changes is how long Naruto stays down.
What changes is how fast his eyes refocus.
What changes is how often his body twitches before the strike lands.
Somewhere in the back of his awareness—blurred by pain, half-drowned by adrenaline—cold, emotionless text flickers and vanishes as fast as it appears:
Taijutsu EXP increased.Mindhub EXP increased.Keen Eyes EXP increased.Dynamic Vision EXP increased.
The pain was the catalyst. Because he was constantly being pushed to the brink of his physical limits, his skills were forced to adapt at an accelerated rate
"Again," Hattori commanded, appearing like a ghost in Naruto's peripheral vision.
Naruto didn't even have time to reach for a new lollipop. He rolled to the left, narrowly avoiding a kick that shattered the ground where his head had been. His Dynamic Vision caught the trailing edge of Hattori's sandals. For the first time, it didn't look like a blur .
The second hour proved to be even more grueling. Hattori's attacks became more erratic, forcing Naruto's Hound's Senses to work overtime to pick up the scent of displaced ozone and shifting earth.
His Dynamic Vision was strobing—images of Hattori's fists flickering like a faulty film projector.
During the third ten-minute break, Naruto lay flat on his back, his chest heaving. His Inner Strength felt like a flickering candle in a storm. He reached with trembling fingers into his pouch, but his hands were slick with sweat and dirt.
Naruto doesn't have time----
Another ambush.
This one comes from behind.
Naruto feels it.
A tightening. A pressure. The world narrowing.
He rolls .
The kick sails over his head, close enough that the wind from it grazes his hair.
He rolls, comes up crooked, hands raised, breathing ragged.
Pain lances through his side as Hattori's fist still clips him—but it's not a knockout blow.
Hattori pauses again.
Barely a heartbeat.
Naruto doesn't notice.
He's shaking. Exhausted. Bruised everywhere. But his eyes were locked on , tracking every shift in posture, every minute change in balance.
The ground.The wind.The intent.
Another hit crashes into him.
The hour grinds on like this.
Beatdown.Break.Ambush.Repeat.
By the end of it, Naruto can barely feel his arms. His legs are jelly. His head throbs.
But when Hattori finally raises his hand and says—
"Enough."
Naruto collapses immediately.
Breathing came in harsh, uneven pulls, each one scraping through his chest like it had to force its way in.
Pain was everywhere—layered, overlapping, refusing to fade.
Naruto let Mindhub spread.
Not to erase the pain.That was impossible.
Instead, he partitioned it.
One part of his awareness acknowledged the ache in his ribs, the ringing in his arms. Another part pushed it to the background. The rest—he forced to observe.
Angles.Timing.Weight shifts before impact.
It didn't make the beating stop.
But it stopped the pain from drowning everything else.
As he did, Naruto noticed something strange.
Sharp Mind felt clearer.Hound's Senses were sharper.
He could hear Hattori's breath change when he prepared to move. Smell crushed grass before a footstep landed. Feel pressure in the air an instant before a strike.
No system prompt appeared.No level-up message.
Yet the skills were working better.
Naruto frowned inwardly.
(Can passive skills still be trained if they don't level up?)
The answer wasn't text or numbers.
It was instinct.
Yes.
Because passive skills weren't switches you turned on.
They were foundations—and foundations strengthened under load .
Naruto also noticed the increased EXP gain in Taijutsu, Mindhub, Keen Eyes, and Dynamic Vision. During the final hour,
After an hour of relentless punishment, Naruto slid down the trunk of a tree and sat there, back pressed to the bark, chest heaving. A low groan escaped him despite his effort to suppress it.
Hattori stood in front of him, arms crossed, eyes stern and evaluative.
"You're relying on your brain too much, kiddo,"
Hattori continues his lecture
"A shinobi's greatest weapon isn't just his jutsu—it's his connection to the environment. Right now, you are treating this clearing like a chessboard. You're trying to calculate every move. The battlefield is chaos. You don't calculate chaos; you flow with it. Your Mind is a gift, but if it slows down your response, it becomes a cage. Stop trying to translate sensory data into thoughts and just act on the feeling."
Just when Hattori and Naruto were busy, there was a slight movement from the bushes. Hearing the sound, Naruto and Hattori both focused toward the rustle, their stances tightening.
From the bushes emerged a strange-looking snail without a shell—a slug about the size of a puppy. Looking at the slug, Naruto recognized the creature instantly. He quickly suppressed his instinctual reaction and activated his Acting skill, putting on a face of confused surprise.
"Sensei..." Naruto started, his voice laced with faked caution.
Hattori held up a hand, his body relaxing as he identified the visitor.
"........no problem, it's a friendly."
The Slug lifted its head, eyestalks wavering gently as it slid fully into the clearing. Its pale, slightly translucent body glistened in the light, and faint chakra ripples pulsed along its surface like slow breathing.
Naruto relaxed his shoulders just a fraction, still playing his role. "A… slug?" he said, scratching the back of his head. "That's friendly?"
"It is," Hattori replied calmly. "Or rather—she is. One of Lady Tsunade's summons."
At the mention of Tsunade, the slug inclined its head politely."Good afternoon," it spoke in a soft, echoing voice, as though many whispers were layered into one. "I am here to deliver a message.
The Snail soon comes close to them and greets hattori with a sweet voice
" Long time no see , Hattori Sama "
" Katsuyu Sama "
Hattori bow deeply to the slug sage , who was also a companion of the first Hokage and now Tsunade . The Slug looks towards Naruto , and then back to hattori and spits out a scroll .
" here "
" understood , Thank you Katsuyu Sama "
" alright , then take care "
With a soft puff of smoke, the Slug Sage disappeared.
Hattori picked up the scroll, unrolling it with a frown. As he read, his expression shifted from curiosity to utter confusion. He reread the lines, squinting, until finally, the hidden message clicked into place
"Naruto."
" Sensei "
"I have important things to do. I will be gone for a week."
"A week... ok," Naruto replied, blinking through the sweat.
"We will resume the training after. You take care of the rest."
"Alright."
Naruto watched as Hattori disappeared in a sudden blur of speed. Left alone in the quiet training ground, Naruto felt a wave of genuine confusion. He turned the events over in his Sharp Mind.
What was the connection between Hattori Sensei and Tsunade? Why did a personal summon from one of the Sannin come directly to a chunin instructor? And most of all, what kind of message could be so urgent that Hattori would vanish mid-training?
=================================
The Hokage Office :
The Third Hokage was buried in paperwork when the ANBU courier appeared soundlessly beside his desk and placed a scroll atop the pile.
Urgent.
Hiruzen's pipe paused midway to his lips.
He opened the scroll.
His eyes narrowed almost immediately.
Hattori.
Not a minor movement either.
Four full squads.
Four jōnin. Twelve chūnin.
Hiruzen leaned back slightly, rereading the names listed beneath the formation.
"…All of them," he murmured.
Every name carried the same quiet thread—veterans, retainers, or descendants tied in one way or another to the old Senju faction. Not loud loyalists. Not political firebrands. The kind of shinobi who didn't posture… and didn't move without reason.
"What's going on…?" Hiruzen muttered.
He scanned the margins for mission codes.
None.
No secrecy markers. No false routing. No ANBU cloaks.
Hattori had exited through the main gate.
Openly.
That alone ruled out betrayal, desertion, or anything that needed to be hidden. And yet—
No destination was listed.
No objective.
For a long moment, the Hokage simply sat there, pipe forgotten, smoke curling lazily into the air.
"…Troublesome," he said softly.
If this were a covert operation, he would already be acting.If it were a rebellion, alarms would be screaming.
But this?
This was something else.
He closed the scroll and set it aside.
(Let's wait and see.)
As long as the village remained peaceful, as long as the problem stayed outside the walls, he could afford to observe. Interfering blindly would only force hands that preferred to remain unseen.
Yet unease lingered.
Hiruzen's thoughts drifted—unbidden—back two months.
Hattori.Naruto.
The reports of training . The rapid growth. The abnormal data curves that no amount of jinchūriki chakra alone could explain.
His brows furrowed deeper.
And then there was that.
Hiruzen reached into another stack and pulled out two sealed documents.
One bore Hattori's name—a formal application submitted during squad restructuring.
The other—
Uzumaki Naruto. Early graduation request.
Denied. Delayed. Shelved.
At Hiruzen's instruction.
His fingers tightened around the edges of the papers.
"…Influence," he murmured.
Hattori had never pushed openly. Never argued. Never demanded.
He had simply… prepared.
Hiruzen exhaled slowly, smoke escaping with the breath.
"Just what are you planning," he said quietly, staring at the closed office door, "and where does that boy fit into it?"
This was also the reason why Hokage didn't want Naruto to be involved withothers , it was not just Jinchuriki identity but also his own political influence .
The Clans were already on the move and now even Senju and other civilians , and all this without Fourth Hokage;s guards and their supporters.
Outside, the village remained calm.
But somewhere ---
Pieces were moving.
This—this—was also the reason the Hokage had never truly wanted Naruto to be entangled with others too deeply.
It had never been just about the Jinchūriki.
That was the surface explanation. The one even ANBU believed.
The truth sat far deeper.
Uzumaki Naruto was not merely the Nine-Tails' container—he was a political catalyst waiting to happen.
Hiruzen's gaze hardened as he connected the threads.
The clans were already moving.
Quietly. Carefully.
Not with banners or declarations, but with meetings, patrol shifts, "coincidental" alignments. The Ino-Shika-Cho , The Inuzuka and Aburame had begun coordinating more than usual.
Civilian representatives—especially those tied to old Senju households—were voicing opinions that hadn't surfaced in years.
And now—
Even the Senju remnants.
Not an official clan anymore. Not a political bloc on paper. Just families, names, influence passed down like heirlooms no one admitted they still carried.
They were stirring.
And most troubling of all—
( they still haven't rallied Minato's laoyalist )
They were doing it without the Fourth Hokage's guards.Without Minato's loyalists.Without the old Yellow Flash faction that once anchored Naruto's future.
Which meant this wasn't nostalgia.
It was recalculation.
Hiruzen leaned back slowly, the weight of decades pressing into his shoulders.
If Naruto became close to others—if bonds formed naturally, emotionally—then influence would follow. Admiration. Loyalty. Alignment
And Naruto, in his innocence, would never notice when admiration turned into leverage.
A smiling boy with impossible potential.A jinchūriki with public sympathy.A Senju-trained prodigy under Hattori's hand.A name that carried Uzumaki blood and Namikaze shadow.
Too many groups could rally around him.
Too many could claim him.
And once that happened, Naruto would no longer belong to himself—or even to the Hokage.
He would become a symbol.
Hiruzen closed his eyes briefly.
"That is why," he murmured to the empty office, "you must grow… but not be gathered."
Not yet.
Because if Naruto ever stepped into the center willingly—
Konoha's balance would shatter long before He ever wore a Hokage's hat.
The Hokage shifted his gaze back to the paperwork on his desk, the familiar rustle of scrolls grounding his thoughts.
An oversight.
That was the word that surfaced.
No—the oversight.
Hattori had left the village.
Openly. With force. With purpose.
Which meant one crucial thing: he was not here to correct his own paperwork.
Hiruzen's eyes settled on a particular file, half-buried beneath mission reports and budget requests.
Instructor Squad Application — Hattori
Still valid.Still unsigned by the Hokage.Still pending withdrawal.
The corners of Hiruzen's eyes narrowed.
Hattori still had three days.
Three days to return, appear before the administration office, and personally retract the application.
But if he didn't—
Then the village rules would speak in his absence.
And rules, unlike people, were wonderfully impersonal.
Hiruzen exhaled a thin stream of smoke from his pipe.
"So be it," he murmured.
If the application stood, then Hattori would be assigned a squad.
A proper one.A demanding one.One that required time, attention, and accountability.
A squad that would pull him away—naturally, legitimately—from Naruto.
No accusations.No confrontation.No political backlash.
Just procedure.
Just duty.
I will assign a squad to him…Create distance between him and Naruto…
The Hokage's fingers tapped once against the desk.
"…and it will all be within the rules."
That was the cruel elegance of governance.
Not every separation needed force.Some only needed timing.
Hiruzen leaned back, gaze drifting toward the window where the village lay bathed in afternoon light.
If Hattori truly intended to return, he would have to live with the consequences of leaving.
And if he didn't—
Then the village would move on without him.
Either way, Naruto would be protected.
For now.
The Hokage picked up his brush and wrote a single line at the bottom of the file.
Approved — pending instructor availability
The ink dried quietly.
And somewhere beyond the walls of Konoha, the balance shifted—not with a clash of chakra,but with a signature.
===================================
Border Between Takigakure and Kusagakure :
Small Town :
Local Inn :
Fast travel and focused purpose brought Hattori to a quiet town on the outskirts of the Land of Fire.
Upon reaching the designated Inn, he gave a sharp, subtle signal to his squads. Sixteen shinobi vanished into the shadows, creating a silent net around the streets.
Hattori walked inside the inn and spotted his target: a beautiful blonde woman in her twenties, radiating power even in repose. She was alone. Hattori sat down directly opposite her and asked without any nonsense:
"What is it?"
"Uncle Hattori," Tsunade replied, her voice carrying the weight of her heritage.
"Soo," Hattori grunted. He knew her nature, and she knew his—a man defined by his mission mindset.
Thinking carefully, Tsunade leaned in. She had summoned the former Senju guards for a reason.
"I want you to extract a hostage, without any noise"
Hattori's eyes didn't blink
"Who? Where?"
"Kusagakure , Hospital." Tsunade paused—just long enough to matter."…An Uzumaki."
Hattori's professional mask cracked for the briefest of seconds. "...Huh?? An Uzumaki in Kusa?"
Tsunade nodded grimly "A survivor. They are using her—treating her like a literal medicine cabinet because of her vitality. If we don't move now, they'll drain her until there's nothing left."
Hattori's mind flashed to Naruto , the boy currently popping lollipops and dodging his strikes back in Konoha.
The connection was undeniable. A fellow clansman for the boy he was training. The mission suddenly carried a weight beyond a simple extraction.
Hattori did not respond immediately.
His mind moved faster than his expression ever would.
A quiet extraction from Kusagakure was feasible. A hospital meant weakened security, predictable patrols, medical-nin bound by protocol rather than combat readiness. An Uzumaki—valuable, resilient, dangerous in the wrong hands.
If the hostage were rescued…
The consequences were profound . Naruto's gratefulness for gaining a family member would be immeasurable, potentially forging a bond of loyalty to Hattori that far exceeded that of a standard student-teacher relationship.
Beyond the emotional impact, there was the cold, hard reality of leverage. Having a second Uzumaki under his protection provided a unique anchor for Naruto's stability—and a powerful card to play against the council's influence.
If the boy had a family to protect, his growth wouldn't just be for himself; it would be for the survival of his clan.