Copy Ninja Naruto: The Ultimate Mimicry

The morning sun slashed through Naruto's apartment window like a kunai, forcing his eyes open despite his desperate attempts to cling to sleep. He groaned, rolling away from the assault of daylight, only to tumble ungracefully from his bed in a tangle of sheets and limbs.

"Perfect," he muttered, blowing a strand of blonde hair from his face. "Another fantastic start to another fantastic day of failure."

The word lingered in his mind as he peeled himself from the floor. Failure. It had become his unwanted shadow, following him through the Academy hallways, hovering over his shoulders during training, and sitting beside him during lonely ramen dinners at Ichiraku.

Naruto Uzumaki—dead last, class clown, and apparently, jutsu-impaired.

He yanked open his refrigerator, grimacing at the expired milk carton that greeted him. With a resigned sigh, he grabbed it anyway. Some risks were worth taking when you were running late for training.

"I'm going to nail this stupid clone jutsu today," he declared to his empty apartment, raising the milk carton like a toast before taking a swig. The sour taste hit his tongue and he spat it across the room, coughing violently. "Or maybe tomorrow."

The training ground hummed with activity as Naruto arrived, breathless and fifteen minutes late. The familiar sounds of kunai striking targets, feet shuffling through sparring exercises, and Iruka-sensei's exasperated instructions filled the air. His classmates were already deep into their morning practice routines.

And there, standing apart from the others with that perpetual look of bored superiority, was Sasuke Uchiha.

Naruto's jaw clenched. The so-called "prodigy." The genius. The one who mastered jutsu with infuriating ease while Naruto struggled to produce even the simplest techniques. The walking, talking reminder of everything Naruto wasn't.

"Naruto!" Iruka's voice cut through his thoughts. "Nice of you to join us. We're practicing transformation jutsu today."

A collective groan rippled through the students, but Naruto's heart sank lower than most. Transformation jutsu—his second-worst technique, right after clone jutsu.

"Line up, everyone!" Iruka commanded, clipboard in hand. "Transform into me, one at a time."

The students shuffled into position, with Naruto deliberately placing himself at the end of the line. Maybe if he watched enough successful transformations, he could figure out what he was doing wrong. Maybe today would be different.

One by one, his classmates performed the jutsu with varying degrees of success. Sakura, of course, executed it flawlessly, earning a nod of approval from Iruka. Shikamaru's transformation looked slightly bored, even as Iruka. Kiba's version had sharper canines. But they all succeeded.

Then came Sasuke's turn.

The raven-haired boy stepped forward without hesitation, formed the hand signs with practiced precision, and transformed. A perfect copy of Iruka appeared in his place, down to the last detail. Several girls sighed dreamily.

"Excellent, Sasuke," Iruka said as Sasuke released the jutsu and returned to his usual form.

Naruto couldn't help himself. "Show-off," he muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

Sasuke glanced back, dark eyes narrowing. "Maybe if you spent more time practicing and less time complaining, you wouldn't be dead last."

The words stung like salt in an open wound. Naruto stepped forward, fists clenched. "I practice more than anyone! It's not my fault the instructors play favorites!"

"Naruto!" Iruka warned.

But Naruto wasn't done. "Just wait! Someday I'll be better than you at everything! I'll be Hokage, and you'll be taking orders from ME!"

Sasuke merely raised an eyebrow, which somehow made Naruto even angrier.

"Your turn, Naruto," Iruka interrupted, attempting to defuse the situation.

Taking a deep breath, Naruto stepped forward. He could feel every eye on him—the pity, the amusement, the anticipation of his inevitable failure. He formed the hand signs, focusing his chakra as he'd been taught.

"Transform!"

A puff of smoke enveloped him. For a moment, hope fluttered in his chest. Then he heard the laughter.

As the smoke cleared, he knew he'd failed again. The transformation was a distorted, bloated version of Iruka, with features that seemed to slide down the face like melting wax.

"That's enough for today," Iruka said quickly, making a note on his clipboard as Naruto dispelled the jutsu, cheeks burning with humiliation. "Everyone take a break, then we'll move on to chakra control exercises."

The students dispersed, but Naruto remained rooted to the spot, hands trembling with frustration.

"Don't worry about it," Iruka said quietly, placing a hand on Naruto's shoulder. "Transformation jutsu is tricky. You'll get it eventually."

"When?" Naruto demanded, jerking away from the touch. "Everyone else already has it! Even Shikamaru, and he sleeps through half the classes!"

Iruka sighed. "Different people learn at different—"

"Save it," Naruto cut him off. "I don't need a lecture. I need to figure this out."

Without waiting for a response, he stormed off toward the edge of the training ground, ignoring the whispers that followed him. He found a secluded spot behind a cluster of trees and dropped to the ground, crossing his legs and closing his eyes.

"Focus," he muttered to himself. "Just focus."

But focus had never been his strong suit. His mind raced from one thought to another, a chaotic jumble of frustration, determination, and the gnawing fear that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't cut out to be a ninja after all.

No. He refused to accept that. He would become Hokage. He would earn everyone's respect. He would show them all.

Starting with Sasuke Uchiha.

Hours passed as Naruto practiced relentlessly, pushing himself until sweat drenched his orange jumpsuit and his lungs burned with each breath. His chakra reserves, usually so abundant, felt strained and depleted. Still, he persisted, forming the hand signs over and over until his fingers cramped.

The sun had begun its descent when he finally collapsed against a tree trunk, exhausted and no closer to mastering the transformation jutsu than he'd been that morning.

"Still here, dead last?"

Naruto's head snapped up at the familiar voice. Sasuke stood a few yards away, arms crossed, watching him with that infuriating look of detached interest.

"What do you want?" Naruto growled, too tired to leap to his feet.

Sasuke shrugged. "Iruka-sensei sent me to find you. Everyone else left hours ago."

"So? I'm training."

"Is that what you call it? Looks more like flailing around uselessly to me."

Naruto's fatigue evaporated in an instant, replaced by a surge of white-hot anger. He pushed himself up, glaring at the Uchiha. "You think you're so perfect, don't you? Just because everything comes easily to you!"

"Nothing comes easily," Sasuke replied coolly. "I work for everything I achieve."

"Oh, please! You're an Uchiha! You were born with advantages the rest of us don't have!"

Something dangerous flashed in Sasuke's eyes then—a glimpse of the darkness that lurked beneath his composed exterior. "You don't know anything about me or my clan."

"I know enough! I know you think you're better than everyone else because you can perform a few jutsus!"

"It's not about being better," Sasuke said, his voice low. "It's about survival. In this world, the strong survive and the weak—"

"Don't you dare call me weak!" Naruto shouted, taking a step forward. "I'll show you right now who's weak! Fight me!"

A flicker of surprise crossed Sasuke's face before settling back into its usual mask of indifference. "You can barely stand. It wouldn't be a fair fight."

"Since when do you care about fair?" Naruto demanded, falling into a fighting stance despite the trembling in his legs. "Unless you're scared?"

It was a desperate taunt, but it worked. Sasuke's eyes narrowed as he dropped his arms to his sides. "Fine. If you insist on embarrassing yourself, who am I to stop you?"

Naruto didn't wait for further invitation. He charged forward with a battle cry, swinging wildly at Sasuke's face. The Uchiha sidestepped effortlessly, moving with the fluid grace that made him the top student in their class.

"Too slow," Sasuke said, dodging another punch.

Naruto growled, redoubling his efforts, but Sasuke seemed to anticipate his every move. For each punch Naruto threw, Sasuke had a block ready. For each kick, Sasuke had already moved out of range.

"Stand still and fight me!" Naruto demanded, frustration mounting with each failed attack.

"A real opponent won't stand still in battle," Sasuke replied, ducking under Naruto's arm and landing a light blow to his ribs—just enough to prove he could have done worse if he'd wanted to.

The fight, if it could even be called that, continued for several minutes. Naruto attacking, Sasuke evading. Naruto growing more frustrated, Sasuke remaining maddeningly calm. It was a dance of desperation versus discipline, and both boys knew who was leading.

Finally, Sasuke seemed to tire of the game. As Naruto lunged forward, Sasuke executed a perfect sweep, knocking Naruto's legs out from under him. The blonde crashed to the ground, dirt filling his mouth as his face made impact.

"We're done here," Sasuke declared, turning to leave.

Naruto pushed himself up, spitting out dirt and blood from where he'd bitten his tongue. "We're not done until I say we're done!"

Sasuke paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Look at yourself, Naruto. You can barely stand. Accept defeat with some dignity."

"I will NEVER accept defeat!" Naruto roared, staggering to his feet. "Especially not from you!"

Something shifted in Sasuke's expression then—a flicker of respect, perhaps, or simply surprise at Naruto's tenacity. He turned fully to face him.

"One more technique," Sasuke said, forming hand signs faster than Naruto could track. "Then we're finished."

Before Naruto could respond, Sasuke's chest expanded as he drew in a deep breath.

"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"

A massive ball of flame erupted from Sasuke's mouth, illuminating the clearing with an orange glow that rivaled the setting sun. The heat was intense, forcing Naruto to shield his face with his arm as the fireball soared overhead, deliberately aimed high to avoid hitting him directly.

As the flames dissipated, Sasuke stood in the same position, watching Naruto with a look that clearly said: This is the difference between us.

And something in Naruto snapped.

It wasn't just anger anymore. It was a primal, visceral need to prove himself, to erase that look from Sasuke's face, to show him and everyone else that Naruto Uzumaki was not to be underestimated. The feeling surged through him like electricity, setting every nerve ending alight.

"My turn," Naruto growled, his hands moving of their own accord, forming signs he'd never consciously learned but somehow knew with absolute certainty.

A strange warmth bloomed in his chest, different from his usual chakra. It spread outward, down his arms, into his fingers, up his throat. It felt ancient and new all at once, like awakening a part of himself that had always been there, sleeping, waiting.

"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"

The words left his mouth in the same instant that an enormous fireball erupted from it—larger than Sasuke's, wilder, more uncontrolled. It roared across the clearing, setting the tops of several trees ablaze before dissipating into the darkening sky.

For a moment, neither boy moved. Naruto stood frozen, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Sasuke stared at him, his usual composure shattered, eyes wide with disbelief.

"How..." Sasuke began, his voice barely audible. "How did you do that?"

Naruto opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He had no explanation, no understanding of what he'd just done. He'd never performed a fire style jutsu before. He'd never even attempted one. Yet somehow, he'd not only executed the technique but amplified it beyond Sasuke's version.

"I..." Naruto started, but was interrupted by a new voice.

"What's going on here?" Iruka-sensei demanded, rushing into the clearing with alarm etched across his face. "I saw flames from the village! Are you two fighting?"

Neither boy answered immediately. Sasuke continued to stare at Naruto as if seeing him for the first time, while Naruto stood rooted to the spot, feeling simultaneously powerful and terrified.

"Sasuke was showing me a fire jutsu," Naruto finally said, the lie tumbling out before he could stop it.

Iruka's eyes narrowed suspiciously, gaze shifting between the two boys. "And the trees? Were they part of the demonstration too?"

Naruto glanced up, noticing for the first time the damage his fireball had caused. Several treetops smoldered, thin wisps of smoke curling upward into the twilight sky.

"That was my fault," Sasuke said unexpectedly, drawing both Naruto's and Iruka's surprised gazes. "I misjudged the power needed for the demonstration."

Iruka crossed his arms, clearly not buying the explanation but perhaps too tired to pursue it further. "Both of you, back to the village. Now. And Sasuke, next time you want to 'demonstrate' jutsu, do it under proper supervision."

"Yes, Iruka-sensei," Sasuke replied dutifully.

As they followed Iruka back toward the village, Naruto couldn't resist glancing at Sasuke. "Why did you cover for me?"

Sasuke kept his eyes forward, his voice low enough that only Naruto could hear. "Because I want to know how you did it. How you copied my jutsu perfectly without any training."

Naruto swallowed hard. "I don't know."

"That's not good enough," Sasuke replied, his tone hardening. "That was an Uchiha technique. My family's technique. And you performed it on your first try."

The implication hung between them, unspoken but clear: whatever had happened in that clearing was not normal, not expected, and potentially dangerous.

For once in his life, Naruto had no comeback, no bravado to hide behind. Because for the first time, he was as unsettled by his own abilities as everyone else had always been.

Sleep eluded Naruto that night. He lay awake in his small apartment, replaying the events in the clearing over and over in his mind. The surge of energy, the instinctive knowledge of the hand signs, the feeling of fire building in his chest before erupting from his mouth—it had all felt so natural in the moment, as if he'd been performing fire jutsu his entire life.

But that was impossible. He could barely manage a basic transformation, let alone elemental jutsu. And yet, he had done it. He had copied Sasuke's fireball perfectly, maybe even improved upon it.

How?

The question circled his mind like a hungry predator, refusing to let him rest. Was it a fluke? A one-time surge of adrenaline and luck? Or was it something more—something to do with the strange power he sometimes felt stirring inside him when his emotions ran high?

He'd never told anyone about those moments—the times when his anger or fear reached a peak, and something wild and ancient seemed to awaken within him, lending him strength or speed beyond his normal capabilities. He'd always attributed it to determination, to his refusal to give up. But now he wondered if there was more to it.

Dawn was breaking when Naruto finally gave up on sleep. He dressed quickly in his orange jumpsuit, his movements mechanical as his mind continued to race. He needed answers, and there was only one way to get them: he had to try again.

The village was still quiet as he made his way to the training ground, the early morning mist clinging to the streets like ghostly fingers. A few shopkeepers were setting up for the day, and they watched him pass with the same mixture of wariness and disdain he'd grown accustomed to over the years.

Today, however, their looks barely registered. Naruto had more important things on his mind.

The training ground was deserted when he arrived, exactly as he'd hoped. He stood in the center of the clearing, taking deep breaths to steady himself. Then, with deliberate focus, he began to form the hand signs he'd seen Sasuke use the previous day.

"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"

Nothing happened. No surge of warmth, no ball of flame, not even a puff of smoke. Just the sound of his voice echoing in the empty clearing.

Naruto frowned, trying again. And again. And again. Each attempt yielded the same result: nothing.

Frustration mounted with each failure. Had it really been a fluke? A momentary ability that had vanished as quickly as it had appeared?

"No," he muttered, clenching his fists. "I did it once. I can do it again."

He closed his eyes, trying to recapture the feeling from the previous day—the surge of energy, the instinctive knowledge. But it remained elusive, like trying to catch smoke with his bare hands.

What had been different yesterday? He'd been angry, yes, but he was often angry. He'd been desperate to prove himself, but that was nothing new either.

Sasuke. Sasuke had been there, performing the jutsu right in front of him. Maybe that was the key—seeing the technique performed first, then immediately attempting to replicate it.

But that didn't make sense either. He'd seen plenty of jutsus performed by his instructors and classmates over the years, and he'd never been able to copy them on the spot.

Unless...

A new thought occurred to him, so startling that he actually spoke it aloud. "What if I've never been able to copy jutsus because I've never really tried to copy them?"

All this time, he'd been trying to learn techniques from verbal instructions and demonstrations separated from his own attempts by hours or days. But yesterday, he'd tried to replicate Sasuke's fireball immediately after seeing it, with the image still fresh in his mind.

It was a tenuous theory, but it was all he had.

Naruto spent the next hour attempting to recall every detail of Sasuke's fireball jutsu—the exact positioning of his hands, the way his chest expanded as he drew breath, the precise moment when chakra transformed into flame. Then he tried again, focusing on those details with an intensity that made his head ache.

Still nothing.

The sun had fully risen by the time Naruto collapsed onto the grass, exhausted and disheartened. Maybe it had been a fluke after all. Maybe—

"Trying to copy my jutsu again, dead last?"

Naruto's head snapped up at the familiar voice. Sasuke stood at the edge of the clearing, hands in his pockets, watching him with that calculating gaze.

"What are you doing here?" Naruto demanded, scrambling to his feet.

"Same as you. Training." Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "Except I actually know what I'm doing."

The taunt stung, but Naruto was too intrigued by the possibility before him to rise to the bait. "Show me the fireball jutsu again."

Sasuke raised an eyebrow. "Why would I do that?"

"Because you want to know if I can copy it again as much as I do."

A moment of silence stretched between them as Sasuke considered this. Finally, he nodded. "Fine. But if this is some kind of trick—"

"It's not," Naruto interrupted. "Just show me the jutsu."

With a skeptical look, Sasuke stepped into the clearing. He formed the hand signs deliberately, allowing Naruto to observe each movement. "Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"

Once again, a massive ball of flame erupted from Sasuke's mouth, soaring across the clearing before dissipating into the morning air.

Naruto watched intently, every muscle in his body tense with anticipation. This was it—the moment of truth. Either he could replicate the ability from yesterday, or it had been a one-time anomaly.

As soon as the flames died away, Naruto stepped forward. He replicated Sasuke's hand signs exactly, focusing his chakra as he'd seen the Uchiha do.

"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"

For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. Then, like a match striking dry kindling, something ignited within him. The same strange warmth from yesterday flooded his system, and an instant later, a fireball twice the size of Sasuke's exploded from his mouth, scorching the air as it blazed across the clearing.

As the jutsu dissipated, Naruto turned to Sasuke, a grin splitting his face despite his exhaustion. "I did it again!"

But Sasuke wasn't sharing in his excitement. The Uchiha stood rigid, his face pale, eyes fixed on Naruto with an expression that bordered on fear.

"That's impossible," Sasuke whispered. "You can't copy jutsu like that. Not without the Sharingan."

The Sharingan—the Uchiha clan's legendary dōjutsu, which allowed its users to copy any technique they witnessed. But Naruto wasn't an Uchiha. He didn't have the Sharingan or any other kekkei genkai that he knew of.

"I don't understand it either," Naruto admitted. "But it's happening. I can feel it—when I watch you perform a jutsu, it's like... like my body remembers the movements even though I've never done them before."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed. "Do it again. But this time, I'm not going to show you the hand signs first. I want to see if you've just memorized them, or if you're actually copying the jutsu itself."

Before Naruto could protest, Sasuke's hands blurred through a series of signs too fast to follow, ending in a configuration Naruto had never seen before.

"Water Style: Water Bullet!"

A concentrated jet of water shot from Sasuke's mouth, striking a nearby tree with enough force to strip away bark.

Naruto blinked in surprise. He hadn't known Sasuke could use water style jutsu. The Uchiha had always favored fire techniques in their classes.

"Your turn," Sasuke said, crossing his arms. "And don't tell me you memorized those hand signs, because I made sure you couldn't see them."

Naruto swallowed hard. This was different from the fireball. He hadn't seen the hand signs clearly, and he'd never attempted a water style jutsu before. But if his theory was correct—if he really could copy techniques instantly—then it shouldn't matter.

Taking a deep breath, Naruto closed his eyes, trying to recall the feeling of the fireball jutsu. The warmth, the surge of chakra, the instinctive knowledge. When he opened his eyes, his hands moved of their own accord, forming signs he couldn't have named but somehow knew were correct.

"Water Style: Water Bullet!"

A jet of water, smaller than Sasuke's but unmistakably the same technique, burst from Naruto's mouth and hit the same tree, adding to the damage Sasuke had already inflicted.

The silence that followed was deafening. Naruto stared at the tree, then at his hands, then at Sasuke, whose expression had shifted from skepticism to something approaching awe.

"That settles it," Sasuke said quietly. "You can copy jutsu instantly, without any prior training or knowledge. Just like... just like the Sharingan. But how?"

Naruto shook his head, equally bewildered. "I don't know. This has never happened before yesterday."

"We need to tell someone," Sasuke decided, his voice regaining its usual authority. "Iruka-sensei, or maybe the Hokage. This isn't normal, Naruto."

For once, Naruto couldn't argue. This ability, whatever it was, went beyond his usual dreams of greatness and recognition. It was something else entirely—something potentially dangerous if not properly understood and controlled.

"Yeah," he agreed reluctantly. "Let's go find Iruka-sensei."

They found Iruka at the Academy, preparing for the day's lessons. The chunin looked up in surprise as Naruto and Sasuke entered his classroom together—an unprecedented sight.

"Naruto? Sasuke? What are you two doing here so early? And together, no less?"

"We need to show you something," Naruto said, glancing at Sasuke for confirmation. The Uchiha nodded, his expression grave.

Iruka's brow furrowed. "Is this about the trees you set on fire yesterday?"

"Sort of," Naruto replied, shifting uncomfortably. "But it's more complicated than that."

With a sigh, Iruka set down his papers. "Alright, let's hear it."

Naruto looked to Sasuke again, unsure how to begin. The Uchiha stepped forward. "It would be better to show you, Iruka-sensei. Is there somewhere more private we could go?"

Curiosity piqued, Iruka led them to a small training room adjacent to the classroom. It was designed for individual instruction, with reinforced walls to contain stray jutsu and minimal furnishings to avoid collateral damage.

"Now," Iruka said, crossing his arms, "what's this all about?"

Sasuke turned to Naruto. "Show him."

Naruto nodded, turning to face Iruka directly. "Sensei, yesterday during training, something weird happened. I was able to copy Sasuke's fireball jutsu perfectly, even though I've never been trained in fire style techniques."

Iruka raised an eyebrow. "That's... unlikely, Naruto. Fire style jutsu require precise chakra control and elemental affinity training. You can't just pick them up on the spot."

"That's what I thought too," Sasuke interjected. "Until I saw him do it. Twice. And then he copied my water bullet jutsu as well, without even seeing the hand signs clearly."

Iruka's expression shifted from skepticism to concern. "Is this true, Naruto?"

"Yes," Naruto confirmed, his voice unusually serious. "I don't understand how it works either, but when I see a jutsu performed, it's like... like I instantly know how to do it. My body just remembers, even though I've never learned it."

Iruka frowned, studying Naruto intently. "That sounds similar to the Sharingan's copying ability, but you're not an Uchiha."

"That's what I said," Sasuke agreed. "But I've seen it with my own eyes. Whatever this is, it's real."

"Show me," Iruka commanded, his teacher's instinct for verification overriding his initial disbelief.

Sasuke nodded, stepping back to give himself room. He formed a series of hand signs, his movements deliberate and precise. "Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"

Multiple small fireballs shot from his mouth, each one darting in a different direction before dissipating against the reinforced walls.

Without hesitation, Naruto stepped forward. His hands moved through the same sequence of signs, matching Sasuke's movements exactly despite never having practiced them before.

"Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"

Just as with Sasuke, multiple fireballs erupted from Naruto's mouth, perhaps a bit less controlled but unmistakably the same technique.

Iruka's eyes widened, his mouth falling open in shock. "That's... that's impossible."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Naruto said, a hint of his usual bravado returning. "I can copy any jutsu I see! Isn't that awesome?"

But Iruka wasn't sharing in his excitement. The chunin's face had paled, and he was looking at Naruto with an expression the boy had never seen before—a mixture of awe, concern, and something else... fear?

"We need to see the Hokage," Iruka said abruptly. "Now."

"The Hokage?" Naruto repeated, his excitement dimming slightly. "Is it that serious?"

"More serious than you realize," Iruka replied, already moving toward the door. "This ability... if it's what I think it is... the Hokage needs to know immediately."

Naruto and Sasuke exchanged glances. The gravity in Iruka's voice was unmistakable, dampening even Naruto's enthusiasm for his newfound power.

"What do you think it is?" Naruto asked as they followed Iruka out of the Academy and into the bustling streets of Konoha.

Iruka shook his head. "It's not my place to speculate. The Hokage will know more."

The walk to the Hokage Tower was tense and largely silent. Naruto's mind raced with possibilities. Was this ability something to do with his parents, whom he'd never known? Was it a random mutation, a genetic quirk that had manifested spontaneously? Or was it something to do with the strange power he sometimes felt inside him—the power that the villagers seemed to fear without ever naming?

As they approached the tower, Naruto felt a knot forming in his stomach. He'd always dreamed of standing before the Hokage as an equal, as the future Hokage himself. But now, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being brought before the village leader as a problem to be solved, a phenomenon to be explained—or worse, contained.

The Hokage's secretary looked up in surprise as they entered the administrative level of the tower. "Iruka? I don't believe you have an appointment."

"We need to see the Hokage immediately," Iruka replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. "It's an urgent matter concerning one of my students."

The secretary's eyes shifted to Naruto, narrowing slightly with the same wariness he'd grown accustomed to from the villagers. "I see. Let me check if he's available."

She disappeared into the Hokage's office, returning moments later with a nod. "He'll see you now."

Iruka placed a hand on Naruto's shoulder, guiding him forward. Sasuke followed a step behind, his presence oddly reassuring in this uncertain situation.

The Hokage's office was spacious but cluttered, with scrolls and books piled on every available surface. The elderly leader himself sat behind a large desk, pipe in hand, his weathered face creasing into a smile as they entered.

"Iruka, Naruto, Sasuke," he greeted them, setting his pipe aside. "This is an unexpected visit. What brings the three of you to my office so early in the day?"

Iruka stepped forward, bowing respectfully. "Lord Hokage, something has happened with Naruto that I believe requires your immediate attention and expertise."

The Third Hokage's eyes shifted to Naruto, his gaze sharpening with interest. "Oh? And what might that be?"

Iruka glanced at Naruto, then back to the Hokage. "It appears that Naruto has developed the ability to copy jutsu instantly upon seeing them performed, without any prior training or knowledge of the techniques."

The Hokage's expression remained neutral, but Naruto noticed his fingers tighten slightly around his pipe. "That is indeed an interesting development. Can you demonstrate, Naruto?"

Naruto looked to Sasuke, who nodded and stepped forward. The Uchiha performed a series of hand signs, ending in a configuration different from the ones he'd shown earlier.

"Lightning Style: Electromagnetic Murder!"

A crackling wave of electricity shot from Sasuke's hands, dissipating harmlessly before it could reach any of the scrolls or furniture in the office.

Without hesitation, Naruto stepped forward and replicated the hand signs exactly. "Lightning Style: Electromagnetic Murder!"

A similar wave of electricity erupted from his hands, perhaps a bit wilder than Sasuke's but unmistakably the same jutsu.

The Hokage's eyes widened slightly—the only visible reaction to what should have been an impossible feat for a genin-level student with no lightning affinity training.

"I see," he said simply, his voice betraying nothing of his thoughts. "And when did this ability first manifest?"

"Yesterday," Naruto replied, finding his voice. "During training with Sasuke. He performed a fireball jutsu, and I... I just knew how to do it too."

The Hokage nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Naruto's face. "And before yesterday? Had you ever experienced anything similar? Moments when you could perform techniques beyond your training level?"

Naruto hesitated, uncertain how much to reveal. "Sort of. Sometimes when I get really angry or scared, I feel stronger, faster. But I've never been able to copy jutsu before."

"I see," the Hokage repeated, leaning back in his chair. He was silent for a long moment, his eyes distant as if consulting some internal library of knowledge. Finally, he spoke again. "Iruka, Sasuke, I would like to speak with Naruto alone."

Iruka nodded, bowing again. "Of course, Lord Hokage."

Sasuke hesitated, glancing at Naruto with an unreadable expression before following Iruka out of the office, the door closing behind them with a soft click.

Naruto stood alone before the Hokage, a position he'd imagined countless times in his daydreams of recognition and respect. But the reality felt very different from his fantasies—more solemn, more weighted with something he couldn't quite name.

"Sit down, Naruto," the Third said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk.

Naruto complied, perching on the edge of the seat as if ready to bolt at any moment. "Am I in trouble, Old Man?"

The familiar address, which the Hokage had always allowed from this particular child, seemed to soften the elderly leader's expression. "No, Naruto. You're not in trouble. But what's happening to you is... significant."

"Significant how?" Naruto asked, leaning forward. "Is it a good thing? Does it mean I'm getting stronger?"

The Hokage sighed, reaching for his pipe and relighting it with a small fire jutsu—a casual display of elemental control that would have impressed Naruto under different circumstances.

"It means," the Third said carefully, "that you've awakened an ability that very few shinobi possess. The ability to copy jutsu instantly is typically associated with dōjutsu like the Sharingan, but you've demonstrated this ability without any visible eye transformation."

"So I'm special?" Naruto couldn't keep the hopeful note from his voice.

"You've always been special, Naruto," the Hokage replied with a gentle smile. "But yes, this ability makes you unique in ways even I didn't anticipate."

Something in the way he said it—the lack of surprise, perhaps—caught Naruto's attention. "You... you knew something like this might happen to me?"

The Hokage took a long draw from his pipe, exhaling a perfect ring of smoke that hovered in the air between them. "I knew that you had potential beyond the ordinary. Your lineage alone guaranteed that. But this specific ability? No, I didn't foresee this."

"My lineage?" Naruto repeated, sitting up straighter. "You mean my parents? Who were they? Did they have this ability too?"

The Hokage's expression closed slightly, and Naruto recognized the look—it was the same one the old man wore whenever Naruto asked too many questions about his origins.

"Your heritage is complicated, Naruto, and much of it remains classified for your own protection. What I can tell you is that you come from a powerful bloodline, and it's possible that this copying ability is a mutation or evolution of traits from both your maternal and paternal lines."

"But—"

"No more questions about your parents," the Hokage interrupted firmly. "Not yet. There will come a time when you're ready for that information, but that time is not now."

Naruto slumped back in his chair, frustration warring with the excitement of his new ability. Always the same answer, always the same deflection. Sometimes he wondered if the Hokage actually knew anything about his parents at all, or if the "classified" excuse was just a way to avoid admitting ignorance.

"So what happens now?" he asked instead, changing tactics. "Do I get special training? Can I learn all the jutsu in the village?"

The Hokage's eyes crinkled with amusement, but his voice remained serious. "What happens now is caution, Naruto. This ability of yours is both a gift and a potential danger—to yourself and to others."

"Danger? How could copying jutsu be dangerous?"

"Think about it," the Hokage urged. "If you can copy any jutsu you see, regardless of your chakra nature or training level, what happens when you encounter a technique that requires precise control? What happens if you copy a forbidden jutsu that could drain your chakra to dangerous levels, or harm your body if performed incorrectly?"

Naruto hadn't considered that. In his excitement, he'd seen only the possibilities, not the risks.

"Furthermore," the Hokage continued, "how do you think other villages would react if they learned of a Konoha shinobi who could instantly copy any technique? You would become a target, Naruto. Every enemy of the Leaf would seek to capture or kill you to prevent their jutsu from being stolen or to acquire your ability for themselves."

The gravity of the situation began to sink in, dampening Naruto's enthusiasm further. "So... what do I do?"

The Hokage leaned forward, his gaze intense. "For now, you tell no one else about this ability. Not your classmates, not your future teammates, not anyone. Only those of us in this room today—you, me, Iruka, and Sasuke—can know the truth."

"But Sasuke—"

"I will speak with Sasuke separately," the Hokage assured him. "He understands the importance of secrecy, especially regarding unique abilities. His own clan's history has taught him that much."

Naruto nodded slowly, processing this new reality. A part of him was disappointed—what good was an amazing ability if he couldn't show it off? How would he earn recognition and respect if his greatest strength had to remain hidden?

But another part of him, a quieter, more thoughtful part that rarely got a chance to be heard over his usual bravado, recognized the wisdom in the Hokage's words. If this ability truly made him a target, then secrecy was a form of protection—not just for him, but for the village as well.

"I understand," he said finally. "I won't tell anyone else."

The Hokage nodded, satisfaction flickering across his weathered features. "Good. Now, as for training—yes, you will need special guidance to control and develop this ability safely. I'm going to assign an ANBU detail to observe you discreetly during your training sessions, and I'll arrange for private instruction with a trusted jōnin who can help you understand the mechanics of what you're doing."

"ANBU?" Naruto's eyes widened. The elite black ops shinobi of Konoha were the stuff of legend among Academy students—shadowy figures who operated directly under the Hokage's command, undertaking the most dangerous and secretive missions.

"Yes," the Hokage confirmed. "They will watch from a distance, ensuring your safety and reporting any significant developments directly to me. You won't see them, but they'll be there."

The thought of being under constant surveillance made Naruto shift uncomfortably in his seat. "Is that really necessary? I mean, it's just copying jutsu, right?"

The Hokage's expression grew solemn. "Naruto, there's something else we need to discuss—something that may be influencing this new ability of yours."

Naruto tensed, an inexplicable dread creeping up his spine. "What do you mean?"

The Hokage set his pipe aside, folding his hands on the desk before him. "You know that you are... different from the other children in the village. That there is a reason the adults treat you with caution."

Naruto swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. This was territory they had never explicitly discussed before—the unspoken knowledge that hung in the air whenever he caught the villagers' wary glances, whenever parents pulled their children away from him on the street.

"The Nine-Tails," Naruto whispered, voicing aloud what he had pieced together over years of overheard conversations and furtive whispers. "It has something to do with the Nine-Tailed Fox that attacked the village, doesn't it?"

The Hokage's eyes widened slightly, surprise evident in his usually composed features. "You know about the Nine-Tails?"

"Not really," Naruto admitted. "Just that it attacked the village when I was born, and that the Fourth Hokage defeated it somehow. And that... that the villagers think I'm connected to it somehow. That's why they avoid me, why they look at me like I'm dangerous."

A heavy silence fell between them, broken only by the soft ticking of a clock on the wall. The Hokage studied Naruto intently, as if seeing him properly for the first time.

"Yes," he said finally. "The Nine-Tails is part of your story, Naruto. But not in the way most villagers believe. You are not the demon fox, nor are you possessed by it. You are its jailer—its container."

Naruto blinked, struggling to process this information. "Container? What does that mean?"

"It means that when the Fourth Hokage faced the Nine-Tails, he couldn't kill it. Such beings cannot be destroyed by conventional means. Instead, he sealed it within a newborn child—you—sacrificing his own life in the process. You are what we call a jinchūriki, a human sacrifice who bears the burden of containing a tailed beast."

The room seemed to tilt around Naruto as the pieces of his life—the isolation, the whispers, the inexplicable bursts of chakra when his emotions ran high—suddenly clicked into place with devastating clarity.

"So that's why," he murmured, more to himself than to the Hokage. "That's why everyone looks at me like that. They think I'm the fox."

"The older generation knows the truth," the Hokage corrected gently. "They know you are the container, not the beast itself. But fear is a powerful emotion, Naruto, and the Nine-Tails caused immeasurable suffering to our village. Many lost loved ones in the attack, and they find it difficult to separate their grief and fear from the child who reminds them of that night."

"And the other kids? My classmates?"

"They were not told. I forbade anyone from speaking of your status to the younger generation, hoping that you might form bonds with your peers without the shadow of the Nine-Tails hanging over you. But children are perceptive—they noticed how their parents treated you, and many adopted the same attitudes without understanding why."

Naruto sat in stunned silence, his mind racing to recontextualize his entire life through this new lens. Every sneer, every whispered comment, every parent pulling their child away from the "troublemaker"—it wasn't just because he was loud or pulled pranks. It was because they saw him as a living reminder of the worst night in Konoha's history.

"So this copying ability," he said finally, forcing his thoughts back to the matter at hand. "You think it has something to do with the Nine-Tails?"

The Hokage tilted his head, considering. "It's possible. The chakra of a tailed beast can influence its jinchūriki in unpredictable ways, especially as they grow and their own chakra networks develop. But it's equally possible that this is an ability unique to your bloodline, awakened perhaps by the presence of the Nine-Tails' chakra or simply by the right combination of circumstances."

"Like what?"

"Stress. Danger. Strong emotion. Many kekkei genkai and unique abilities first manifest in moments of extreme pressure or need." The Hokage gave him a knowing look. "Like, perhaps, a confrontation with a rival that threatened your self-image and pushed you to prove yourself."

Naruto ducked his head, acknowledging the accuracy of the observation. His fight with Sasuke had indeed pushed him to emotional extremes—frustration, anger, desperation, and an overwhelming need to prove himself.

"So what now?" he asked, looking up at the Hokage with new resolve. "How do I control this? How do I make sure I'm not... influenced by the Nine-Tails?"

The Hokage's expression softened with something like pride. "That, Naruto, is the right question to ask. And it brings me to my decision about your training."

He stood, moving to a bookshelf behind his desk and retrieving a small scroll sealed with a wax emblem that Naruto didn't recognize.

"I'm assigning Kakashi Hatake as your primary mentor for this ability."

Naruto frowned. "Kakashi? Who's that?"

"A jōnin of exceptional skill and experience," the Hokage replied, returning to his seat with the scroll in hand. "And, more importantly for your situation, a shinobi known as the 'Copy Ninja' for his ability to replicate techniques using his Sharingan eye."

"He has the Sharingan? But I thought only Uchihas had that."

"Kakashi is a special case," the Hokage said, a hint of sadness touching his voice. "The details are his to share if he chooses. What matters is that he understands the mechanics and ethics of copying jutsu better than anyone else in the village. He can teach you to use this ability responsibly and safely."

The Hokage handed the scroll across the desk. "Give this to him when you meet. It contains my instructions and what little we know about your new ability. He'll take it from there."

Naruto accepted the scroll, the weight of it in his hand feeling somehow significant—like the first tangible acknowledgment of his new reality.

"When do I meet him?"

"Soon. For now, return to your regular classes and training. Act normally. The fewer people who suspect anything unusual, the better." The Hokage fixed him with a stern look. "And Naruto? No showing off. No copying jutsu unless you're in a controlled environment with Kakashi or another approved instructor."

Naruto nodded, the gravity of the situation tempering his usual impulsiveness. "I understand, Old Man. I'll be careful."

The Hokage smiled, the familiar address reassuring him that beneath this new layer of complexity, Naruto was still Naruto—brash, determined, and irrepressibly hopeful.

"I know you will. You've always had the potential for greatness, Naruto. This ability is simply one more step on that path—a path that I believe will lead you to heights even you haven't dreamed of yet."

The words warmed something in Naruto's chest, a quiet affirmation of everything he'd been striving for. Recognition. Acknowledgment. The belief that he could be more than the village pariah, more than the container of a feared demon.

"Thank you," he said, his voice unusually subdued. "For telling me the truth. About the Nine-Tails, I mean. And for helping me with this new ability."

The Hokage nodded, his eyes crinkling with genuine affection. "You deserved to know, and I believe you're ready to handle that knowledge responsibly. Just as I believe you'll handle this new ability with the same determination and heart you bring to everything else."

Naruto stood, tucking the scroll carefully into his pocket. He felt different leaving the office than he had entering it—older, somehow, as if the weight of these revelations had aged him in the span of a single conversation.

"Naruto," the Hokage called as he reached the door. "Remember that great power often attracts both admiration and fear. The path ahead may not be easy, but I have faith that you'll navigate it with the same indomitable spirit you've shown your whole life."

Naruto nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the heaviness in his chest. "Believe it," he said, with a flash of his usual confidence.

As he stepped out of the office, he found Iruka waiting in the hallway, concern etched across his features. Sasuke was nowhere to be seen.

"Everything okay?" Iruka asked, studying Naruto's face.

Naruto hesitated, the Hokage's warning about secrecy fresh in his mind. But Iruka already knew about the copying ability, and the Hokage had said he was one of the few who could be trusted with the knowledge.

"Yeah," he said finally. "Just a lot to process."

Iruka nodded, placing a hand on Naruto's shoulder. "I can imagine. Did the Hokage explain what might be causing this ability?"

"Sort of," Naruto replied carefully. "He thinks it might be related to my... heritage." It wasn't a lie, exactly, just not the full truth. The Nine-Tails was part of his story now, but he wasn't ready to discuss that aspect with anyone, not even Iruka.

"I see." Iruka seemed to sense there was more to it but didn't press further. "And what happens next?"

"I'm supposed to train with someone named Kakashi. The Hokage says he can help me understand and control this ability."

Iruka's eyebrows rose. "Kakashi Hatake? That's... significant. He's one of the most skilled jōnin in the village."

"You know him?"

"By reputation, mostly. He's not exactly sociable." Iruka hesitated, then added, "He's also known for being chronically late, so don't be surprised if he keeps you waiting."

Naruto filed this information away for future reference. "Where's Sasuke?"

"The Hokage asked to speak with him privately after you. I imagine they're discussing the importance of discretion regarding your new ability."

Naruto nodded, a flicker of unease passing through him at the thought of Sasuke knowing his secret. The Uchiha wasn't exactly known for his warm and supportive nature. Would he use this knowledge against Naruto somehow? Or would he recognize the significance of being trusted with such information?

"Do you think he'll keep quiet about it?" Naruto asked, voicing his concern.

Iruka considered this. "Sasuke understands the importance of secrecy better than most. His clan had their own closely guarded techniques and abilities. I think he'll respect the Hokage's wishes."

They began walking toward the exit, Naruto unusually quiet as he processed everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. His life had been upended in ways he was still struggling to comprehend—the awakening of a rare ability, the revelation about the Nine-Tails, the assignment of an elite jōnin as his mentor.

It was a lot to take in, especially for someone who had spent most of his life being told he was nothing special—or worse, that he was a burden, a troublemaker, someone to be avoided and ignored.

"Iruka-sensei," he said suddenly as they reached the street outside the tower, "do you think this changes things? For me, I mean?"

Iruka looked down at him, understanding in his eyes. "I think it gives you new opportunities and new challenges, Naruto. But it doesn't change who you are at your core. And it doesn't change your dream, does it?"

Naruto thought about this, then shook his head firmly. "No. I'm still going to be Hokage someday. This just... helps me get there, I guess."

Iruka smiled, ruffling Naruto's hair affectionately. "That's the spirit. Just remember, being Hokage isn't just about having powerful jutsu. It's about wisdom, compassion, and the will to protect everyone in the village—even those who haven't always been kind to you."

The words struck a chord in Naruto, resonating with something the Third had once told him about the true meaning of being Hokage. It wasn't about recognition or respect—those were byproducts of the role, not its purpose. Being Hokage meant putting the village before yourself, carrying the weight of everyone's hopes and dreams on your shoulders.

"I know," he said quietly. "And I will."

Iruka squeezed his shoulder. "I believe you. Now, why don't we go get some ramen? I think we could both use a break after all this excitement."

Naruto's face lit up, his troubles momentarily forgotten at the mention of his favorite food. "Really? You're buying?"

"Just this once," Iruka laughed. "Consider it a celebration of your new ability—even if we have to celebrate in secret."

As they walked toward Ichiraku, Naruto felt a strange mix of emotions swirling within him—excitement about his new power, apprehension about the training to come, and a deeper, more solemn understanding of the responsibility that came with being who and what he was.

The container of the Nine-Tails. The bearer of a mysterious copying ability. And, someday, the Hokage of the Hidden Leaf Village.

It was a lot for a twelve-year-old to carry. But as he walked beside the first person who had ever truly believed in him, Naruto found that the burden felt a little lighter, the path ahead a little clearer.

Whatever came next—training with Kakashi, navigating his complex relationship with Sasuke, learning to control his new ability without revealing it to the world—he would face it with the same determination that had carried him through years of isolation and rejection.

Because that was his ninja way.

And now, for the first time, he had the power to back it up.

In the shadows of the Hokage Tower, a masked figure knelt before the Third Hokage, who had moved to a more secure location within the building after his meeting with Naruto.

"You heard everything?" the Hokage asked, his voice betraying none of the concern that lined his aged face.

"Yes, Lord Hokage," the ANBU operative replied, head bowed respectfully.

"And your assessment?"

The operative hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "The ability is unprecedented, especially in combination with the Nine-Tails' chakra. The potential is... concerning."

"Or promising," the Hokage countered, "depending on how it's nurtured and guided."

"With respect, Lord Hokage, even the Sharingan has limitations in its copying abilities. If the boy can truly replicate any technique instantly, without the usual constraints of chakra nature or physical capability..."

"Then he could become either our greatest asset or our greatest liability," the Hokage finished, sighing heavily. "I'm aware of the risks, which is why I've assigned Kakashi to oversee his development. No one understands the ethics and responsibilities of copying jutsu better than he does."

"And the Uchiha boy? Is it wise to allow him knowledge of this ability?"

The Hokage's expression grew thoughtful. "Sasuke Uchiha carries his own burdens and ambitions. But he also understands the value of unique abilities better than most. His presence in Naruto's life provides both competition and camaraderie—both of which Naruto needs to grow properly."

The ANBU operative nodded, accepting the wisdom of the decision even if he didn't fully agree with it. "What are your orders regarding surveillance?"

"Two operatives at all times, rotating shifts. Watch from a distance—close enough to intervene if necessary, but not so close that Naruto feels constrained or monitored. Report any significant developments directly to me, not to the council or anyone else."

"And if the Nine-Tails' influence becomes evident in conjunction with this copying ability?"

The Hokage's eyes hardened, a reminder of the formidable shinobi he had been in his prime. "Then you notify me immediately and prepare containment protocols. But remember, Naruto is not the Nine-Tails. He is a child of this village, under my protection. Treat him accordingly."

"Understood, Lord Hokage."

"One more thing," the Hokage added as the operative turned to leave. "If Danzō or any of his Root operatives show unusual interest in Naruto or attempt to make contact with him, I want to know immediately."

The ANBU operative nodded, understanding the implication. Danzō Shimura, the Hokage's old rival and the leader of the mysterious Root faction within ANBU, had his own ideas about how Konoha's power should be cultivated and utilized—ideas that often conflicted with the Third's more compassionate approach.

"I'll assign our most discreet operatives to the surveillance detail," the ANBU promised. "The boy won't know we're there."

"Good. Dismissed."

As the operative vanished in a swirl of leaves, the Third Hokage turned to gaze out the window at the village spread below, his thoughts troubled.

The Will of Fire burned bright in Naruto Uzumaki—of that, he had no doubt. But now that fire was being fed by new and potent fuel: the power to copy any jutsu instantly, potentially without limits. Combined with the chakra reserves of the Nine-Tails, it represented a level of potential that even he, with all his years of experience, found difficult to fully comprehend.

"Minato, Kushina," he murmured to the spirits of Naruto's parents, wherever they might be, "your son has inherited more than just your looks and your spirit. Guide him from wherever you are. He'll need all the help he can get in the days to come."

With a final glance at the Academy in the distance, where Naruto would soon return to his studies as if nothing had changed, the Hokage turned back to his duties, the weight of leadership heavy on his shoulders.

A new chapter had begun—not just for Naruto, but for the entire village. What that chapter would bring, only time would tell.

But one thing was certain: nothing in Konoha would ever be quite the same again.

Sunlight slashed through the window blinds, painting tiger stripes across Naruto's face as he stared at the ceiling of his apartment. Four days had passed since his meeting with the Hokage, and the mysterious scroll still sat unopened on his nightstand, taunting him with possibilities.

Four days of pretending nothing had changed. Four days of ignoring the electric current humming beneath his skin. Four days of feeling the ANBU shadows tracking his movements—invisible but undeniably present.

He snatched the scroll and turned it over in his hands. The wax seal gleamed blood-red in the morning light, embossed with the Hokage's personal insignia.

"Where are you, Kakashi?" he muttered, frustration churning in his gut.

A sharp knock cracked against his door, sending Naruto bolting upright. No one ever visited him—especially not at dawn. He slipped the scroll under his pillow and crept toward the door, kunai materializing in his hand from beneath his mattress.

"Who's there?" he called, pressing his back against the wall.

"Your new babysitter," a lazy voice drawled from the other side.

Naruto yanked the door open to find a tall, silver-haired man leaning against the doorframe. His posture screamed indifference, but his single visible eye examined Naruto with razor precision. A mask covered the lower half of his face, while his forehead protector slanted down to conceal his left eye.

"Kakashi Hatake," the man said, raising a hand in casual greeting. "Mind if I come in? Your neighbors are starting to stare."

Naruto glanced past him to see several doors cracked open along the hallway, curious eyes peering out at the unusual visitor.

"Sure," he mumbled, stepping aside.

Kakashi sauntered in as if he owned the place, his gaze sweeping across the cluttered apartment—dirty dishes in the sink, instant ramen cups stacked in a precarious tower, clothes strewn across furniture.

"Cozy," he remarked, picking up a carton of milk from the counter and sniffing it. His visible eye crinkled with disgust. "Do you always drink poison for breakfast?"

Naruto snatched the carton away. "It's not that bad."

"It's growing civilizations that would fascinate scientists for generations." Kakashi plucked the carton back and dropped it into the trash. "Get dressed. We're leaving in five minutes."

"Where are we going?" Naruto asked, even as he scrambled to pull on his orange jumpsuit.

"Somewhere we can talk without an audience." Kakashi's eye flicked meaningfully toward the ceiling, where, Naruto realized with a start, an ANBU operative was probably perched right now, observing their every move.

Four minutes later, they were bounding across rooftops, Naruto struggling to keep pace with Kakashi's effortless strides. The village blurred beneath them—shopkeepers rolling up metal shutters, early risers shuffling toward the bathhouse, shinobi reporting for dawn patrol.

They didn't stop until they reached the outskirts, landing in a secluded clearing ringed by ancient trees whose massive trunks blocked any view from the main path.

"The Hokage's scroll," Kakashi said, extending his hand. "You have it?"

Naruto produced it from his pocket, hesitating before relinquishing it. "You're really four days late for our first meeting?"

"Was I?" Kakashi's eye widened with mock surprise. "I could have sworn the Hokage said to meet you on the fifth day after your discovery. Something about giving you time to process."

"Liar," Naruto accused, but handed over the scroll anyway.

Kakashi broke the seal with his thumb and unrolled the parchment, his expression unreadable as his eye darted across the text. After a moment, he rolled it back up and tucked it into his vest.

"Well?" Naruto demanded.

"Well what?"

"What did it say?"

"Lots of things. Mostly that you're a fascinating anomaly who might blow up the village if we're not careful."

Naruto's stomach dropped. "It didn't say that."

"Not in those exact words." Kakashi's eye curved into what might have been a smile beneath his mask. "But the gist is clear. You've awakened an ability that shouldn't be possible outside the Sharingan bloodline, and no one knows exactly what you're capable of yet—including you."

He began circling Naruto slowly, examining him from every angle like a peculiar specimen. "Tell me exactly what happens when you copy a jutsu. What do you feel? What do you see?"

Naruto closed his eyes, trying to recapture the sensation from that first explosive moment with Sasuke. "It's like... like someone flips a switch in my brain. One second I'm watching the hand signs, and the next I just... know them. Like I've been doing them my whole life. There's this warmth that spreads through my chakra network, and then..."

"And then?" Kakashi prompted.

"And then it's mine." Naruto opened his eyes, meeting Kakashi's penetrating gaze. "The jutsu becomes part of me, like I invented it myself."

"Interesting." Kakashi stopped circling. "The Sharingan works differently. It allows the user to see chakra flow and predict movements, effectively copying techniques through observation and precise mimicry. But it sounds like you're actually internalizing the jutsu on a fundamental level."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Depends on who you ask." Kakashi shrugged. "For you, it's potentially very good—assuming you don't kill yourself by copying a technique your body can't handle."

Naruto swallowed hard. "Like what?"

"Like the Eight Gates. Or certain forbidden scrolls that drain life force instead of chakra. Or kekkei genkai that require specific physical attributes you don't possess." Kakashi ticked off the examples on his fingers casually, as if discussing menu options rather than lethal possibilities.

"The Hokage mentioned that too," Naruto said, his earlier excitement curdling into apprehension. "But I copied Sasuke's fire jutsu just fine, and I don't have a fire nature."

"That's part of what makes this so unprecedented." Kakashi extracted a small piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Naruto. "Channel your chakra into this."

Naruto accepted the paper and focused his energy into it. The paper immediately split in half, the edges growing damp.

"Wind primary, water secondary," Kakashi observed. "Yet you performed a fire technique with no difficulty. That shouldn't be possible without extensive training."

"So I'm special," Naruto grinned, his confidence surging back.

"You're dangerous," Kakashi corrected flatly. "To yourself and potentially others. Which is why we're going to establish some ground rules."

He held up one finger. "First: no copying jutsu without my explicit permission. No exceptions, no matter how tempting the opportunity."

A second finger joined the first. "Second: what happens in our training sessions stays between us. No bragging to friends, no showing off to impress girls, no using these techniques to settle petty rivalries."

A third finger. "Third: if you feel anything unusual—pain, excessive chakra drain, loss of control—you stop immediately and tell me. The Nine-Tails complicates everything, and we have no idea how its chakra might interact with this ability."

Naruto stiffened at the mention of the fox. "You know about that?"

"I've known since the day it happened," Kakashi said quietly. "I was there."

The simple statement hung in the air between them, loaded with implications Naruto couldn't fully grasp. Before he could ask what Kakashi meant, the jōnin continued.

"Which brings me to the fourth and most important rule." His voice hardened. "If you ever—and I mean ever—feel the Nine-Tails' influence while using this copying ability, you are to suppress it immediately. If you can't, you signal me, and I'll suppress it for you. By any means necessary."

The threat lurking beneath those last words sent a chill racing down Naruto's spine. "I understand."

"Good." Kakashi's demeanor shifted abruptly, the intensity evaporating like morning mist. "Then let's see what you can do."

Without warning, his hands flashed through a sequence of signs. "Water Style: Water Wall!"

A massive vertical wave erupted from the ground, towering over them momentarily before crashing down, soaking the clearing.

"Your turn," Kakashi said, seemingly unbothered by his sudden drenching.

The knowledge bloomed in Naruto's mind instantly—the feel of the signs, the precise chakra channeling required, the visualization of water particles coalescing into a barrier. His hands moved with confident precision.

"Water Style: Water Wall!"

Another wave exploded upward, smaller than Kakashi's but unmistakably the same technique. It crashed down, adding to the swampy mess of the clearing.

"Again," Kakashi commanded, his hands already forming new signs. "Earth Style: Mud Wall!"

A rectangular earthen barrier shot up from the ground, six feet tall and solid as stone.

Naruto didn't hesitate. "Earth Style: Mud Wall!"

His version rose more slowly, crumbling slightly at the edges, but standing firm.

Kakashi's eye narrowed. "Three different chakra natures already—fire from Sasuke, water and earth from me. You shouldn't be able to manipulate elements outside your natural affinities without years of training."

Excitement fluttered in Naruto's chest. "So I really am—"

"Lightning Style: Electromagnetic Murder!" Kakashi interrupted, sending a crackling wave of electricity toward one of the trees.

Naruto matched him sign for sign. "Lightning Style: Electromagnetic Murder!"

The electricity surged from his palms, wilder and less controlled than Kakashi's, but undeniably the same jutsu. The tree they targeted split down the middle, smoke curling from the charred wood.

"Four chakra natures," Kakashi muttered, almost to himself. "At genin level."

"Is that a record?" Naruto couldn't keep the pride from his voice.

"It's impossible," Kakashi replied flatly. "Even most jōnin struggle to master more than two or three elements in their lifetime. The amount of training required to overcome one's natural limitations..." He trailed off, studying Naruto with new intensity. "Unless those limitations simply don't apply to you."

Kakashi formed a final sequence of signs. "Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!"

A howling gale ripped through the clearing, bending trees and sending loose debris flying.

Naruto followed suit, the movements feeling even more natural this time, aligning with his primary affinity. "Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!"

His gust combined with the remnants of Kakashi's, creating a miniature cyclone that ripped a sapling from the ground and sent it hurtling into the forest.

"Five for five," Kakashi said quietly as the wind died down. "Every basic elemental nature, copied perfectly on the first attempt."

Naruto pumped his fist in triumph. "That's awesome! What else can you show me? Something bigger! Something cooler!"

"This isn't a game, Naruto." Kakashi's voice cut through his excitement like a blade. "What you're doing shouldn't be possible. It violates the fundamental rules of chakra manipulation."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Naruto asked, deflating slightly under Kakashi's serious gaze.

"It's an unknown thing. And in the shinobi world, unknowns are treated with extreme caution." Kakashi sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. "The Hokage believes this might be a mutation of the Uzumaki bloodline. Your mother's clan was known for unusual chakra properties—massive reserves, exceptional longevity, unique sealing abilities. But nothing in the records mentions copying abilities."

Naruto's breath caught. "You knew my mother?"

Kakashi went still, as if realizing he'd said too much. "This isn't about your parentage, Naruto. It's about understanding what you can do and ensuring you don't harm yourself or others."

"But you did know her," Naruto pressed, stepping closer. "You know who my parents were."

"Focus," Kakashi snapped, his tone brooking no argument. "We're here to test the limits of your copying ability, not discuss classified information."

The rebuke stung, but Naruto recognized the same brick wall he'd hit with the Hokage. Nobody wanted to tell him about his parents—not even the people who clearly had firsthand knowledge.

"Fine," he muttered, kicking at the sodden ground. "What's next?"

Kakashi's eye softened almost imperceptibly. "Next, we see if there are any limitations to what you can copy. Elemental jutsu are one thing, but what about techniques that require specific physical attributes? Or chakra control beyond your current level?"

He formed a new sequence of signs, too fast for Naruto to follow with his eyes. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

Three perfect copies of Kakashi appeared in puffs of smoke, each one as solid and detailed as the original.

"This is different from the Clone Jutsu you learn at the Academy," Kakashi explained. "Those are merely illusions. Shadow clones are physical duplicates with their own chakra networks, capable of independent action. They require precise control and substantial chakra—which is why it's typically a jōnin-level technique."

Naruto stared in fascination. The clones weren't just visual copies—they had mass, presence, even subtle differences in posture and expression. It was like seeing four Kakashis, each one slightly improvising on the original's personality.

"My turn," he said eagerly, his hands instinctively forming the cross-shaped seal he'd seen Kakashi use.

The knowledge flooded his mind—not just the hand sign this time, but the complex chakra division required, the mental concentration needed to maintain multiple consciousness streams, the precise distribution of energy.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

Chakra exploded outward from Naruto's core, far more than he'd intended to use. The clearing filled with smoke, obscuring everything momentarily. As it cleared, Kakashi's visible eye widened in genuine shock.

Where there should have been one or two clones at most, a hundred Narutos stood crammed into the clearing, each one a perfect, solid duplicate.

"What the—" one of the Narutos exclaimed, looking around in confusion.

"There's so many of us!" another shouted.

"Is this normal?" a third asked, turning to Kakashi.

The jōnin stared in disbelief. "No," he said quietly. "This is not normal. Not even close."

"Did I do something wrong?" the original Naruto asked, suddenly worried by Kakashi's reaction.

"You did something impossible," Kakashi replied. "Again. Creating this many shadow clones should have killed you from chakra exhaustion. Even most jōnin can only manage a handful before risking dangerous depletion."

He circled through the crowd of Narutos, examining them from all angles. "And these aren't just imitations. They're perfect shadow clones, each with its own chakra signature. You didn't just copy the jutsu—you amplified it beyond what should be physically possible."

A surge of pride washed through Naruto, followed immediately by concern. "Is that bad?"

"It's unprecedented," Kakashi repeated, the word becoming a refrain that Naruto was starting to find annoying. "You need to dispel them. Now."

"How do I—"

"Just release the chakra maintaining them. Imagine cutting the strings connecting you to each clone."

Naruto closed his eyes, focusing on the webs of energy extending from his core to each duplicate. With a mental snip, he severed the connections.

The clones vanished in a synchronized puff of smoke, and something unexpected happened. Knowledge flooded back into Naruto's mind—not just the memory of creating the clones, but the brief experiences of each one during their short existence. The different angles they'd seen Kakashi from, the various thoughts they'd had, the unique sensations they'd experienced standing in different parts of the clearing.

"Whoa," he gasped, staggering slightly under the influx of information. "That was weird."

Kakashi caught his arm, steadying him. "Another feature of shadow clones—when they dispel, their experiences return to the original. It makes them excellent for reconnaissance and training."

"Training?" Naruto perked up. "How?"

"Think about it. If you create a hundred clones and each one practices a technique for an hour before dispelling, you gain the equivalent of a hundred hours of training experience in the span of a single hour."

Naruto's eyes widened as the implications sank in. "So I could learn jutsu way faster than anyone else!"

"Theoretically, yes." Kakashi's voice turned cautious. "But there are limits to how much information your brain can process at once. Too many clones dispelling simultaneously could overwhelm your neural pathways, causing confusion, disorientation, even temporary memory loss."

But Naruto was barely listening, his mind racing with possibilities. With his copying ability and shadow clones, he could master techniques in days that took others years to perfect. He could become the strongest shinobi in the village practically overnight.

He could become Hokage.

The thought must have shown on his face, because Kakashi's grip on his arm tightened. "Don't even think about it, Naruto. Using these abilities recklessly won't just put you in danger—it could expose you to enemies who would stop at nothing to acquire or eliminate such power."

"But—"

"No buts." Kakashi released him and stepped back. "We're done for today. You've shown enough to confirm what the Hokage suspected—your copying ability exceeds even the Sharingan in some respects, with no apparent limitations regarding chakra nature or technique complexity."

He fixed Naruto with a stern look. "Which means the restrictions I outlined earlier are non-negotiable. No copying without permission. No showing off. No experimenting alone. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Naruto muttered, unable to keep the disappointment from his voice.

"Good. Meet me here tomorrow at dawn. And Naruto?" Kakashi's eye curved in what might have been a smile or a warning. "Don't be late."

With that, he vanished in a swirl of leaves, leaving Naruto alone in the clearing.

Except not really alone, he realized, sensing the ghostly presence of ANBU watchers in the surrounding trees. The Hokage's invisible guardians, tasked with monitoring his every move.

Naruto sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets as he trudged back toward the village. So much power at his fingertips, and so many people determined to keep him from using it.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't—

A familiar figure appeared on the path ahead, hands shoved deep in white shorts, dark eyes fixed on Naruto with unnerving intensity.

Sasuke.

Naruto halted, tension coiling through his muscles. They hadn't spoken since the day at the Hokage's office, carefully avoiding each other during Academy sessions.

"Uchiha," he acknowledged warily.

"Uzumaki." Sasuke stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "Interesting training session."

Alarm bells rang in Naruto's mind. "You were watching?"

"From the ridge." Sasuke nodded toward a rocky outcropping overlooking the clearing. "The Hokage said I could observe, as long as I stayed out of sight."

"The Hokage said—" Naruto sputtered, indignation flaring. "Why would he let you spy on my training?"

"Because I'm the only other person our age who knows what you can do," Sasuke replied simply. "And because I have experience with copying abilities."

Naruto's eyes narrowed. "The Sharingan."

"Yes."

"But you haven't awakened yours yet, have you?" The question came out more tauntingly than Naruto had intended.

Something flashed across Sasuke's face—a fleeting shadow of pain or anger, there and gone in an instant. "No. Not yet."

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, charged with unspoken thoughts. Finally, Sasuke broke it.

"A hundred shadow clones," he said, a note of genuine respect coloring his voice. "That's impressive."

The unexpected compliment caught Naruto off guard. "Uh, thanks?"

"But your chakra control is still terrible," Sasuke continued, the momentary admiration replaced by his usual critical assessment. "You're wasting at least half your energy with every jutsu."

"Hey! I copied everything perfectly!"

"You copied the forms perfectly," Sasuke corrected. "But you're like a hammer where a scalpel is needed. All that power, no precision."

Naruto clenched his fists, ready to retort, when he noticed something strange in Sasuke's expression. It wasn't mockery or condescension. It was... calculation. As if he were solving a puzzle.

"What do you really want, Sasuke?" he asked bluntly.

The Uchiha considered him for a moment before answering. "To understand."

"Understand what?"

"Why you." Sasuke's gaze intensified. "Why the dead last suddenly develops an ability that surpasses even my clan's kekkei genkai. Why you can copy jutsu without the Sharingan, without any bloodline limit that explains it. Why fate would give such power to someone who can barely pass a basic Academy exam."

The naked envy in Sasuke's voice was so unexpected that Naruto didn't immediately register it as such. When he did, he wasn't sure whether to feel smug or sympathetic.

"I don't know," he admitted finally. "The Hokage thinks it might be related to my mother's clan, but nobody will tell me anything about her."

"The Uzumaki clan," Sasuke nodded. "I've read about them. They were known for fuinjutsu and unusual chakra properties, not copying abilities."

Naruto blinked in surprise. "You've researched my clan?"

"I've researched all the major clans," Sasuke shrugged. "Knowledge is power."

Another silence fell between them, less hostile but still uncertain. Naruto studied Sasuke's face, trying to decipher the complex emotions lurking beneath his carefully maintained facade.

"You're jealous," he realized suddenly, the insight striking like lightning.

Sasuke's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't be ridiculous."

"You are," Naruto pressed, a slow grin spreading across his face. "The great Sasuke Uchiha, jealous of the dead last. That's why you were watching my training. You want what I have."

"What I want," Sasuke said coldly, "is to understand a potential ally or enemy. Nothing more."

"Ally, huh?" Naruto's grin widened. "That's a first. Since when do you consider anyone an ally?"

Sasuke's expression shuttered, closing off whatever glimpse Naruto had caught of his true feelings. "Since never. But things change. People change." His eyes bored into Naruto's. "Powers change."

With that cryptic statement, he brushed past Naruto and continued down the path toward the training ground, leaving Naruto staring after him in confusion.

What had just happened? Had Sasuke—his rival, his nemesis, the boy who'd dismissed him as worthless for years—actually acknowledged him as a potential equal?

The thought was as exhilarating as it was unsettling.

The Third Hokage set down his crystal viewing ball with a troubled sigh. Beside him, two ANBU captains stood at attention, awaiting his assessment.

"The boy created a hundred shadow clones without breaking a sweat," the Hokage observed, his weathered fingers tapping thoughtfully against his desk. "And copied five elemental natures in the span of minutes."

"It's unprecedented," the first captain agreed, echoing Kakashi's earlier evaluation.

"It's concerning," the second captain corrected. "That level of power in someone so young, so... undisciplined."

The Hokage's eyes narrowed. "Careful, Tenzo. Your bias is showing."

The ANBU captain stiffened. "I have no bias against the Uzumaki boy, Lord Hokage. Only concern about the Nine-Tails' influence on this new ability."

"A valid concern," the Hokage conceded. "But one that Kakashi is well-equipped to monitor. Your role is observation, not intervention, unless absolutely necessary."

"And the Uchiha boy?" the first captain asked. "Is it wise to allow him such close access to Uzumaki's training?"

The Hokage leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant. "Sasuke Uchiha walks a precarious path between light and darkness. His brother's actions left wounds that may never fully heal, and his desire for vengeance consumes him." He refocused on the ANBU captains. "But there is still good in him, still the potential to become a shinobi worthy of the Leaf's ideals."

"And you believe Naruto might influence him positively?" Tenzo sounded skeptical.

"I believe they might influence each other positively," the Hokage corrected. "Naruto needs Sasuke's discipline and focus. Sasuke needs Naruto's compassion and resilience. Together, they could become something extraordinary."

"Or they could destroy each other," the first captain warned. "The Uchiha's envy was palpable even through the viewing ball."

"Envy can be a powerful motivator," the Hokage replied. "It doesn't always lead to darkness."

"And if it does?" Tenzo pressed. "If the Uchiha boy's jealousy festers? If he sees Uzumaki's power as a shortcut to his own revenge?"

The Hokage's expression hardened. "Then we will deal with that when the time comes. For now, we observe, we guide, and we hope." He picked up his pipe, signaling the end of the discussion. "Double the ANBU detail around both boys. I want to know immediately if either of them exhibits unusual behavior."

"Yes, Lord Hokage," both captains intoned, bowing before vanishing in twin puffs of smoke.

Alone in his office, the Third Hokage turned to gaze out the window at the village spread below. The situation was evolving more rapidly than he'd anticipated. Naruto's ability wasn't just growing—it was exploding beyond all reasonable expectations. And Sasuke's reaction, while not overtly hostile, carried undercurrents of a complexity that concerned him.

Two extraordinarily gifted boys, each carrying burdens no child should bear. Each with the potential for greatness or catastrophe.

"Minato," he murmured to the ghost of the Fourth Hokage, "your son has surpassed even your wildest ambitions. I only hope he has inherited your wisdom along with your power."

Naruto couldn't sleep.

His mind buzzed with the day's revelations, replaying each copied jutsu, each surge of chakra, each look of astonishment on Kakashi's normally impassive face. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw potential—hundreds of techniques waiting to be mastered, thousands of possibilities branching out before him.

And lurking beneath that excitement, a darker current: the Nine-Tails. The creature sealed within him, influencing his chakra in ways no one fully understood. The Hokage, Kakashi, even the ANBU watching from the shadows—they all feared what might happen if the fox's power mingled with his copying ability.

Maybe he should fear it too.

But fear had never been Naruto's style. Flopping onto his side, he stared at the moonlight filtering through his window, casting ghostly patterns on the wall.

A soft tap against the glass made him bolt upright. A pebble—then another—clicked against his window.

Cautiously, Naruto crept to the sill and peered down. In the street below, a familiar pink-haired figure stood looking up, finger pressed to her lips in a hushing gesture.

Sakura?

Naruto slid the window open. "What are you doing here?" he whispered, bewildered by her unexpected appearance.

"Come down," she hissed back. "Hurry!"

Confusion warred with curiosity. Sakura had never—not once in all their Academy years—sought him out voluntarily, especially not in the middle of the night. Something was very wrong.

Or very right, an optimistic voice in his head suggested. Maybe she'd finally noticed him. Maybe she'd realized Sasuke wasn't all that great. Maybe—

"Naruto!" Her urgent whisper cut through his daydream. "Now!"

Decision made, he slipped out the window and scaled down the building's exterior, landing softly beside her.

"What's going on?" he asked, keeping his voice low. "Is everything okay?"

Sakura glanced nervously over her shoulder. "Not here. Follow me."

She took off down the street, moving with a stealth and purpose that seemed at odds with her usual demeanor. Naruto followed, confusion mounting with each block they traversed.

They didn't stop until they reached a small park near the Academy, deserted at this late hour. Sakura slipped into the shadow of a large oak tree and turned to face him, her green eyes luminous in the darkness.

"I saw you today," she said without preamble. "With Kakashi-sensei."

Naruto's stomach dropped. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb." Her voice hardened. "I was gathering herbs in the forest for a medical ninjutsu project. I saw you copying his jutsu—all five elemental types. And those shadow clones..."

She shook her head in disbelief. "A hundred of them, Naruto. How is that possible? You can barely create a single regular clone in class."

Panic fluttered in Naruto's chest. This was exactly what the Hokage and Kakashi had warned him about—his secret exposed, his ability revealed.

"You were hallucinating," he tried weakly. "Too much sun or something."

"Naruto." She fixed him with a stare that brooked no argument. "I know what I saw. And I know you're hiding something big. Something that could change everything."

He hesitated, torn between the direct orders he'd been given and the opportunity to impress the girl he'd admired for so long. If Sakura knew what he could do—if she saw him as special instead of as the class failure—maybe she'd look at him the way she looked at Sasuke.

But Kakashi's warning echoed in his mind: "No exceptions, no matter how tempting the opportunity."

"I can't talk about it," he said finally, his voice firmer than he expected. "I'm sorry, Sakura, but it's classified. Hokage's orders."

Something flickered across her face—disappointment? Anger? It was gone too quickly to identify.

"I thought we were friends," she said, her voice suddenly small. "I thought you trusted me."

The guilt trip was so transparent that Naruto almost laughed. Sakura had barely acknowledged his existence except to berate him for bothering her precious Sasuke. Now she was claiming friendship?

Wait.

Suspicion crystallized, sharp and sudden. "Sakura's been working on genjutsu with Kurenai-sensei, not medical ninjutsu with herbs," he said slowly. "And she would never risk her perfect attendance record by sneaking out at night."

Her eyes widened fractionally—confirmation.

"Who are you really?" Naruto demanded, drawing a kunai from his pocket and dropping into a defensive stance.

"Clever boy," not-Sakura said, her voice deepening, shifting. "Sharper than your academic records suggest."

A puff of smoke enveloped her, and when it cleared, a different figure stood in her place—a man Naruto had seen around the village but never spoken to. Tall, bandaged across one eye and arm, leaning on a walking stick despite his obvious physical capability.

"Danzō Shimura," the man introduced himself, his visible eye cold and calculating. "Elder of the Leaf and commander of Root."

Naruto's grip tightened on his kunai. "What do you want from me?"

"Information, primarily." Danzō stepped closer, seemingly unconcerned by Naruto's defensive posture. "And confirmation of certain rumors that have reached my ears."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Naruto lied, fighting to keep his voice steady. The man's presence exuded a quiet menace that made his skin crawl.

"Don't you?" Danzō's mouth curved in what might charitably be called a smile. "A sudden ability to copy jutsu without the Sharingan. Mastery of all five chakra natures without training. A hundred shadow clones created effortlessly by a mere Academy student."

He tapped his walking stick against the ground. "Hiruzen thinks he can keep such power secret, but there are eyes everywhere in this village, boy. Some loyal to him, some to me, some to themselves alone."

Naruto swallowed hard, mind racing. The Hokage had warned him about Danzō during their meeting—had said the elder was not to be trusted, that he had his own agenda for Konoha's future.

"If you already know so much, why the charade?" Naruto asked, playing for time. Surely the ANBU were watching. Surely they would intervene.

"To test your discretion," Danzō replied simply. "To see if you could be manipulated through your... emotional attachments." His tone made the phrase sound like a weakness, a flaw to be exploited.

"And now that I've failed your test?"

"Failed?" Danzō raised an eyebrow. "On the contrary. You recognized the deception, maintained your secrecy despite temptation, and showed commendable loyalty to the Hokage's directives. You passed."

Naruto blinked, thrown by the unexpected approval. "So this was all just a test?"

"Everything is a test, Naruto Uzumaki. Life is a series of challenges designed to reveal your true nature." Danzō circled him slowly, his walking stick tapping a rhythmic counterpoint to his words. "And your nature is... fascinating. A container for the Nine-Tails who can copy any jutsu instantly, regardless of chakra affinity or complexity."

He stopped directly in front of Naruto, his single visible eye boring into him. "Do you understand what that makes you?"

"Special?" Naruto ventured, hating how uncertain he sounded.

"Valuable," Danzō corrected. "Perhaps the most valuable shinobi asset Konoha has produced in a generation. Your potential exceeds even that of Itachi Uchiha at your age."

The comparison startled Naruto. Itachi—Sasuke's older brother, the prodigy who had massacred his entire clan—was spoken of in hushed, fearful tones throughout the village. To be compared to him was both flattering and deeply unsettling.

"Hiruzen will try to constrain you," Danzō continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "He will speak of control, of patience, of the 'Will of Fire' that demands sacrifice for the greater good. But what he really fears is power he cannot control. Power like yours."

"The Hokage is trying to protect me," Naruto countered, but his voice lacked conviction. The day's restrictions and warnings suddenly felt less like protection and more like limitation.

"From what? From your own potential?" Danzō scoffed. "He fears what you might become if given free rein to develop this ability. He fears a weapon he cannot sheath at will."

"I'm not a weapon!"

"All shinobi are weapons, boy. The only question is who wields us, and to what end." Danzō's expression softened marginally. "I could help you reach your full potential. Train you outside the constraints Hiruzen has imposed. Show you how to harness this ability to become truly exceptional."

Naruto hesitated, temptation warring with suspicion. "Why would you do that?"

"Because Konoha needs strength to survive in this world of shadows. Because talent like yours shouldn't be wasted on D-rank missions and trivial exercises." Danzō leaned closer. "Because I recognize greatness when I see it, even in unexpected places."

The words resonated in places Naruto tried to protect—the hollow spaces carved by years of dismissal and derision, the hungry void that ached for recognition and respect. For a moment, he almost considered it.

Then he remembered the Hokage's weathered face, lined with concern but also with genuine care. He remembered Iruka's hand on his shoulder, steadying him when the world tilted beneath his feet. He remembered Kakashi's warnings, harsh but rooted in a desire to keep him safe.

"Thanks for the offer," Naruto said, straightening his spine, "but I think I'll stick with the Hokage's plan for now."

Something cold flickered in Danzō's eye—disappointment, perhaps, or calculation recalibrating. "A predictable choice, if shortsighted. Loyalty is admirable, but blind loyalty is merely another form of weakness."

He stepped back, tapping his cane against the ground. "Remember this conversation when Hiruzen's restrictions chafe, when your potential remains untapped while lesser shinobi advance beyond you. My offer remains open."

With that, he turned and walked away, his figure dissolving into the shadows as if he'd never been there at all.

Naruto stood frozen, heart hammering against his ribs. Had that really happened? Had one of Konoha's highest-ranking officials just tried to recruit him for... what, exactly? Training outside the Hokage's purview? A private army of exceptional shinobi? The implications made his head spin.

"You handled that well."

Naruto whirled, kunai raised reflexively toward the new voice. An ANBU operative stood on a tree branch above him, porcelain mask gleaming in the moonlight.

"You were watching the whole time?" Naruto demanded. "Why didn't you step in?"

"Orders," the ANBU replied simply. "We were to observe unless physical harm seemed imminent."

"So the Hokage knew Danzō would approach me?"

"The Hokage suspected it was possible." The masked figure dropped silently to the ground beside Naruto. "Danzō Shimura collects talented shinobi like other men collect rare weapons. Your new ability was bound to attract his attention."

Naruto sheathed his kunai, frustration mounting. "So I was bait? A test to see what Danzō would do?"

"No. You were—are—a valuable asset that the Hokage is determined to protect. Tonight confirmed the necessity of that protection." The ANBU gestured toward the village. "You should return home. This encounter will be reported to the Hokage and Kakashi-senpai."

"Wait," Naruto called as the operative turned to leave. "Was Danzō right? Is the Hokage afraid of what I might become?"

The ANBU paused, mask tilting slightly as if considering the question. "The Hokage is afraid of what might happen to you if your power develops unchecked. There's a difference."

With that cryptic statement, the operative vanished in a swirl of leaves, leaving Naruto alone in the darkened park.

The walk back to his apartment was tense, his senses hyperalert for any sign of further surveillance or approach. Danzō's words echoed in his mind, seductive in their recognition of his potential, disturbing in their implications.

All shinobi are weapons. The only question is who wields us, and to what end.

Was that true? Was he destined to be nothing more than a tool, valuable only for what he could do rather than who he was? The thought sat like a stone in his stomach, heavy and cold.

By the time he reached his apartment, exhaustion had overtaken anxiety. He collapsed onto his bed without bothering to undress, mind still churning with the day's revelations.

The last thought before sleep claimed him was a question without an answer: If both the Hokage and Danzō saw him as a weapon, who saw him as Naruto?

Dawn broke with an insistent pounding on his door. Naruto groaned, rolling out of bed and stumbling across the cluttered floor, still half-asleep.

"I'm coming," he mumbled, yanking the door open to find Kakashi lounging against the doorframe, looking as if he'd been awake for hours.

"Good morning, sunshine," the jōnin greeted cheerfully. "Sleep well after your midnight adventure?"

Naruto blinked, memories of the previous night rushing back. "You know about that already?"

"I know everything," Kakashi replied with mock omniscience. "Or at least, everything the ANBU operatives reported to the Hokage, who then summoned me at an ungodly hour to discuss it."

He pushed past Naruto into the apartment, wrinkling his nose at the milk carton still sitting in the trash. "Get dressed. We have a lot to cover today, and a meeting with the Hokage this afternoon."

"Am I in trouble?" Naruto asked, hurriedly pulling on his jumpsuit.

"For being approached by Danzō? No. For sneaking out of your apartment after being explicitly told to maintain a low profile? Maybe a little." Kakashi's visible eye curved in what might have been a smile. "But you handled the situation well. Refused his offer, maintained your cover, showed loyalty to the Hokage. Points for that."

Relief flooded through Naruto. "So we're still training today?"

"With some modifications." Kakashi led the way out of the apartment, setting a brisk pace toward the same training ground they'd used the previous day. "After last night, the Hokage is convinced we need to accelerate certain aspects of your development."

"Like what?"

"Like your ability to recognize and resist manipulation. Danzō caught you off-guard once—it won't be the last attempt." Kakashi glanced at him. "He's a patient man, and he plays a long game. He'll keep testing you, probing for weaknesses, waiting for moments of vulnerability."

The thought sent a chill through Naruto despite the morning sun warming his shoulders. "Why does he want me so badly?"

"It's not you specifically, though your new ability certainly heightens his interest. It's what you represent—untapped potential that he believes could be shaped to his vision of what Konoha should be." Kakashi's voice hardened. "Danzō believes in strength above all else. Strength without the constraints of morality or compassion that the Hokage considers essential."

They reached the training ground, deserted at this early hour except for the invisible ANBU presences Naruto could now faintly sense in the surrounding trees.

"Today," Kakashi announced, "we're going to focus on the mental aspects of your copying ability. Not just how to use it, but when not to use it."

Naruto frowned. "I don't understand."

"Your encounter with Danzō highlighted something important—there will be people who want to use your ability for their own purposes. Some will be obvious enemies, others will come disguised as friends or mentors." Kakashi fixed him with a serious stare. "You need to develop the discernment to know when someone is trying to manipulate you into copying techniques that might harm you or others."

"Like forbidden jutsu?"

"Exactly. There are techniques in this world that exact terrible costs from their users—techniques that drain life force instead of chakra, that corrupt the mind, that slowly destroy the body." Kakashi formed a series of hand signs Naruto had never seen before. "Techniques like this."

Nothing visible happened, but Naruto felt a sudden crushing weight pressing down on him, making it difficult to breathe. His vision tunneled, darkness creeping in from the edges.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the pressure vanished. Naruto gasped, sucking in air like a drowning man breaking the surface.

"What... what was that?" he wheezed, hands on his knees.

"A forbidden technique that compresses the air around a target, creating a temporary vacuum," Kakashi explained calmly. "Effective for assassinations, but it causes cumulative damage to the user's lungs with each application. Prolonged use leads to respiratory failure and death."

He raised an eyebrow. "Did you copy it?"

Naruto realized with a start that he had—the knowledge was there in his mind, the hand signs memorized, the chakra pathway mapped. He could perform the jutsu right now if he wanted to.

"I did," he admitted. "Without even thinking about it."

"That's the problem," Kakashi said grimly. "Your ability activates automatically when you observe a technique. There's no filter, no pause for consideration of consequences."

"So how do I stop it?"

"You can't, as far as we know. But you can learn to recognize dangerous techniques before you use them." Kakashi tapped his temple. "Knowledge is there in your mind whether you want it or not, but the choice to implement that knowledge remains yours."

He began pacing, hands clasped behind his back in lecture mode. "From now on, I want you to develop a mental protocol. Every time you copy a new jutsu, ask yourself these questions before using it: What is the chakra cost? What are the potential physical consequences? What is the intent behind this technique? Could it harm innocents if misused?"

Naruto nodded slowly. "Like a checklist."

"Exactly. A safety measure to prevent you from blindly using everything you copy." Kakashi stopped pacing. "Now, let's practice with some less lethal techniques."

The next several hours passed in a blur of jutsu demonstrations and discussions. Kakashi showed him techniques ranging from simple utility skills to complex combat maneuvers, having Naruto analyze each one before deciding whether to implement it.

By midday, Naruto's head was swimming with new information, but he felt more in control of his copying process than ever before. The knowledge still came automatically, but his response to it was becoming more measured, more thoughtful.

"Good," Kakashi said finally, as Naruto correctly identified a seemingly innocent water jutsu as potentially dangerous due to its cellular dehydration effects. "You're learning to look beyond the surface."

"It's exhausting," Naruto admitted, flopping onto the grass. "I never realized how complicated jutsu could be."

"Most shinobi spend years studying the theoretical foundations of the techniques they use. You're getting a crash course in days." Kakashi checked the position of the sun. "Time for our meeting with the Hokage. And Naruto?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever happens in this meeting, remember that decisions are being made for your protection, not to limit your potential."

The cryptic warning raised Naruto's hackles, but before he could question it, Kakashi had already started toward the village, leaving him to scramble after his enigmatic sensei.

The Hokage's office was more crowded than Naruto expected. Besides the Third himself, Iruka stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back. Two ANBU operatives flanked the door, masks unreadable. And to Naruto's surprise, Sasuke leaned against the far wall, arms crossed in his typical standoffish pose.

"Ah, Kakashi, Naruto—good. We can begin." The Hokage gestured for them to take the seats arranged before his desk. "I understand you had an unexpected visitor last night, Naruto."

"Danzō," Naruto confirmed, glancing uncertainly at Sasuke. "Should we be discussing this with—"

"Sasuke is here at my request," the Hokage interrupted smoothly. "His insight into this situation is valuable for reasons that will become clear shortly."

Kakashi settled into the chair beside Naruto, his posture relaxed but his eye alert. "The boy handled himself well. Recognized the deception, maintained secrecy, refused the offer."

"Indeed." The Hokage puffed thoughtfully on his pipe. "But Danzō's approach confirms what we feared—word of Naruto's ability is spreading, despite our precautions. Which necessitates a change in strategy."

He leaned forward, fixing Naruto with an intent stare. "I'm accelerating your graduation from the Academy. As of today, you are officially a genin of the Hidden Leaf."

Naruto's jaw dropped. "What? But the exams aren't for months!"

"Circumstances demand flexibility," the Hokage replied. "Keeping you in the Academy environment is no longer viable—too many eyes, too many opportunities for your ability to be exposed or exploited."

Iruka stepped forward. "We've arranged a cover story—a special advanced placement due to, ah, previously overlooked aptitudes." He smiled at Naruto's dumbfounded expression. "It's not entirely a lie."

"But what about my friends? My classes? I won't get to graduate with everyone else!" The complaint sounded childish even to Naruto's ears, but the suddenness of the decision had knocked him off-balance.

"Your safety and development take priority," the Hokage said firmly. "Furthermore, you'll be placed on a team effective immediately."

He gestured toward Sasuke. "Team Seven will consist of you, Sasuke Uchiha, and a third member to be determined, under Kakashi's leadership."

Naruto swiveled to stare at Sasuke, who met his gaze with cool assessment. "You're graduating early too?"

"The Uchiha clan traditionally graduated ahead of schedule," Sasuke replied with a hint of pride. "The Hokage is simply honoring that tradition."

"And conveniently creating a team where two members already know about your special ability," Kakashi added. "Less explaining to do."

The Hokage nodded. "Precisely. This arrangement allows for specialized training while maintaining the appearance of normal progression through the ranks. You'll undertake standard missions like any genin team, but with additional private sessions focused on developing Naruto's copying ability safely."

"But won't people wonder why we're getting special treatment?" Naruto asked.

"People always wonder about special treatment," the Hokage replied with a small smile. "They'll gossip for a week, then move on to the next interesting rumor. Human nature."

He turned to Iruka. "The forehead protectors, please."

Iruka produced two Hidden Leaf headbands from a drawer in the Hokage's desk, presenting them formally to Naruto and Sasuke.

"Normally, these would be given after passing the graduation exam," he said, his voice carrying the weight of ceremony. "Consider this an abbreviated version of that tradition. By accepting these, you take on the responsibilities and duties of shinobi of the Hidden Leaf."

Naruto accepted the headband with trembling hands, the metal plate cool against his fingers, the fabric sturdy and new. This moment—becoming a real ninja, receiving the symbol that marked him as a protector of the village—had featured in his dreams for as long as he could remember.

But not like this. Not in a secret meeting, without his classmates, without the chance to prove himself in the graduation exam.

"I know this isn't how you imagined it," Iruka said softly, reading his expression. "But the path of a shinobi rarely follows our expectations. What matters is how we adapt to the unexpected."

Sasuke had already tied his headband in place, the metal gleaming against his dark hair. After a moment's hesitation, Naruto did the same, adjusting it until it felt secure.

"Team Seven begins official duties tomorrow," Kakashi announced. "Meet at Training Ground Three at seven AM. Don't be late."

The slight emphasis on the last words, coming from the chronically tardy jōnin, almost made Naruto smile despite his conflicted feelings.

"One final matter," the Hokage said, his tone growing serious. "In light of Danzō's interest and the unique composition of this team, I'm assigning ANBU protection detail for both Naruto and Sasuke outside of missions and training."

Sasuke straightened, indignation flashing across his face. "I don't need babysitters."

"This isn't negotiable," the Hokage replied firmly. "Both of you possess abilities that make you valuable targets—Naruto with his copying technique, you with your Sharingan potential. The protection detail will be discreet but constant."

"What about the third team member?" Kakashi asked. "Will they be informed of Naruto's ability?"

The Hokage shook his head. "Not initially. We'll select someone trustworthy, but information containment remains a priority. They'll be told only that both boys graduated early due to exceptional skills."

Naruto fidgeted in his seat, a question burning on his tongue. Finally, he blurted it out: "What about the Nine-Tails? Does Sasuke know about that too?"

A heavy silence fell over the room. The Hokage's eyes widened slightly, clearly not expecting Naruto to broach the topic so directly.

"I know," Sasuke said quietly. "The Hokage informed me yesterday, with your situation in mind."

Naruto turned to him, searching his face for the fear or disgust he'd come to expect when people learned about the fox. Instead, he found only that calculating assessment, as if Sasuke were adding another variable to an equation.

"And you're okay with it? With being on a team with me?"

Sasuke shrugged, the gesture somehow elegant despite its casualness. "The Nine-Tails is a powerful entity. You're its container. That makes you a potentially valuable ally or a dangerous enemy. I prefer the former."

It wasn't exactly warm acceptance, but coming from Sasuke, it was practically a declaration of friendship. Naruto felt something tight in his chest loosen slightly.

"Well, that's settled then," the Hokage said, sounding relieved. "Team Seven is officially formed. Kakashi will handle your training schedule, balancing regular missions with specialized instruction."

He fixed both boys with a stern look. "This arrangement is unorthodox and places considerable trust in both of you. I expect that trust to be honored with discretion, diligence, and loyalty to your team and your village. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Lord Hokage," they chorused, Sasuke's cool formality contrasting with Naruto's enthusiastic assent.

"Good." The Hokage smiled, some of the severity leaving his aged face. "Then go prepare for your new responsibilities. Your journey as shinobi of the Hidden Leaf begins now."

As they filed out of the office, Naruto found himself walking beside Sasuke, the weight of their new forehead protectors and responsibilities settling on both their shoulders.

"So," Naruto ventured after an awkward silence, "teammates, huh?"

Sasuke glanced at him, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. "Apparently."

"This is going to be weird."

"Undoubtedly."

Another silence stretched between them, less hostile than their previous encounters but still charged with unspoken thoughts and questions.

"Why did you agree to this?" Naruto finally asked as they reached the building's exit. "To graduating early, being on my team, knowing about... everything."

Sasuke paused, considering his answer carefully. "Because I need to get stronger," he said finally. "And being close to power is one way to achieve that."

The honesty was surprising and a little unsettling. "So I'm just a means to an end for you?"

"For now." Sasuke's mouth curved in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "But who knows? Maybe you'll prove to be more than that."

With that cryptic statement, he turned and walked away, leaving Naruto staring after him, the weight of his new headband suddenly very real against his forehead.

Teammates with Sasuke Uchiha. Genin months ahead of schedule. Special training with Kakashi. ANBU shadows watching his every move. And somewhere in the village, Danzō waiting, watching, planning his next approach.

Naruto's life had changed irrevocably in the span of a few days, transforming from simple to complex, from predictable to chaotic. His dream of becoming Hokage suddenly seemed both closer and further away—closer because of his newfound power, further because of the complications surrounding it.

As he made his way back to his apartment, his hand kept drifting up to touch the metal plate of his headband, the physical manifestation of the changes overtaking his life. It felt strange, foreign against his skin—but also right, as if a piece that had been missing had finally clicked into place.

Whatever came next, he was a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf now. Not just in his dreams or his declarations, but in reality.

And that, at least, was something to celebrate, even if the path ahead seemed more uncertain than ever before.

In the shadows of an underground chamber, Danzō Shimura sat motionless, listening to the report of his masked operative.

"The boy has been graduated early and placed on Team Seven under Kakashi Hatake's supervision. The Uchiha boy is his teammate."

Danzō nodded slowly, fingers steepled before him. "An interesting choice. Hiruzen thinks to kill two birds with one stone—keeping both boys under close watch while accelerating their development."

"Your orders, Lord Danzō?"

"Maintain surveillance. Do not interfere for now." A cold smile crossed his face. "Our young friend rejected my first approach, as expected. But doubt has been planted—doubt about the Hokage's motives, about the constraints placed upon him."

He rose from his seat, moving to a wall covered in scrolls and maps. "Seeds require time to germinate. We will wait, watch, and when the moment is right, approach again."

The operative bowed and vanished, leaving Danzō alone with his thoughts. The Uzumaki boy's ability was even more remarkable than his reports had suggested. Combined with the Nine-Tails' chakra, it represented a potential weapon of unparalleled versatility.

Such power shouldn't be constrained by Hiruzen's soft-hearted philosophies. It should be honed, sharpened, directed toward Konoha's true protection and dominance.

Patience, he reminded himself. The boy was young, impressionable. Today's loyalty could become tomorrow's resentment with the right pressure applied. All he needed was time and opportunity.

And if there was one thing Danzō Shimura had in abundance, it was patience.

"Enjoy your new team, Naruto Uzumaki," he murmured to the empty room. "Enjoy Hiruzen's protection and Kakashi's guidance. Grow stronger under their tutelage."

His smile widened, cold and calculating.

"The stronger you become, the more valuable you will be when you finally see things my way."