what if hashirama senju never dies and naruto secretly working for him

# WHAT IF HASHIRAMA SENJU NEVER DIES AND NARUTO SECRETLY WORKS FOR HIM

## CHAPTER 1: THE IMMORTAL SHADOW

The ancient roots twisted beneath his palms, responding to his touch like eager pets welcoming their master home. Hashirama Senju closed his eyes, feeling the pulse of chakra that ran through the massive trees surrounding his sanctuary. A hundred years of growth, nurtured by his own life force. A hundred years of secrets.

"It's been seventy years since the world thought you died, Lord First," said a voice from the shadows.

Hashirama didn't turn. His long dark hair, streaked with only a few strands of silver despite his true age, cascaded down his back as he knelt before the enormous trunk of a tree that had never grown naturally. His weathered hands, still powerful, pressed against the bark.

"Has it been that long already, Takeo?" Hashirama's voice carried the weight of decades, yet retained its commanding resonance. "Time moves differently here."

The visitor stepped forward, revealing himself as an elderly man, back bent with age but eyes sharp with intelligence. One of his agents, loyal for over forty years now.

"The Third Hokage grows weaker by the day," Takeo reported. "The council moves against him, especially Danzo."

A flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or anger—crossed Hashirama's face. "Danzo. My greatest mistake was not seeing what he would become."

The sanctuary around them hummed with ancient power. Nestled deep within the Forest of Death, where few dared venture, Hashirama had crafted a dwelling unlike any other in the ninja world. The massive trees grew in impossible configurations, their trunks forming natural chambers and passages, their canopies so dense that sunlight filtered through in misty beams that dappled the mossy floor. Roots served as seats and tables, branches bent to form archways and barriers. The air itself felt alive, thick with chakra and the scent of rich soil and wood.

Hashirama rose in a fluid motion that belied his true age and walked toward the heart of his sanctuary, where a glowing pool of clear water reflected the filtered light from above.

"Show me," he commanded softly.

The pool's surface rippled without being touched, and images formed in the water—the Leaf Village as it stood today, so different from the settlement he had founded with Madara Uchiha all those decades ago.

"Your life-extension jutsu," Takeo ventured cautiously. "Will you require another transfusion soon?"

Hashirama's expression darkened. "Yes. The technique demands Senju chakra, and there are so few of us left now." He ran a hand through his hair, revealing a face that appeared no older than forty despite the century he had lived. "Tsunade remains unaware of my survival, as it must be. The fewer who know, the safer my work remains."

The pool shifted again, focusing now on a small blond boy running through the streets of the village, angry villagers shouting at his back.

"The Uzumaki child," Takeo noted. "Minato's son."

"Naruto," Hashirama said, his voice softening. "The Nine-Tails jinchūriki. Eight years old and already carrying a burden heavier than most adults could bear." He touched the water's surface gently, causing the image to ripple. "And look how they treat him."

The scene shifted again, showing the boy alone on a swing, watching other children play from a distance.

"They fear what they don't understand," Takeo said.

"They've forgotten everything I tried to teach them." Hashirama's voice held no anger, only a profound sadness. "The Will of Fire was meant to unite, to create a family of all villagers. Now they ostracize a child for containing the very beast that would destroy them if released." He straightened, decision made. "It's time I met him."

---

The memory came to Hashirama unbidden as he walked the forest path toward his destination. The battle that the world believed had killed him—his final confrontation with Madara Uchiha at the Valley of the End.

The rain had fallen in sheets, mixing with blood and chakra-saturated earth. Madara lay defeated before him, the light fading from his Sharingan eyes.

"Finish it," Madara had rasped. "Finish what we started, Hashirama."

But Hashirama hadn't delivered the killing blow. Instead, he had knelt beside his former friend, rain plastering his hair to his face.

"This isn't the end," he had said softly. "This is a beginning."

Later, when he'd sensed something darker on the horizon—something ancient and terrible that even Madara hadn't fully understood—Hashirama had made his decision. The world would believe he had died from his wounds sustained in that legendary battle. Only then could he work freely, unencumbered by the politics and limitations of being the Hokage.

The forbidden technique had been discovered in the ruins of an Uzumaki temple—a life-extension jutsu that required regular infusions of chakra from blood relatives. Painful, costly, and dangerous. But necessary.

The memory faded as Hashirama reached the edge of the training ground where the boy now sat alone, his small shoulders hunched against the evening chill. From this distance, with his chakra carefully masked, Hashirama observed him. Blond hair that spiked in all directions, whisker marks on his cheeks—the physical manifestation of the Nine-Tails sealed within him—and eyes so blue they seemed to contain the sky itself.

But it was the loneliness that struck Hashirama most forcefully. It radiated from the child like a tangible thing, more powerful than any jutsu.

He's perfect, Hashirama thought, and immediately felt a stab of guilt. Perfect for what I need. But also deserving of so much more than what this village has given him.

The transformation jutsu came easily to him—a simple alteration of his appearance, nothing flashy that might trigger suspicion. His hair shortened and lightened to a nondescript brown, his distinctive facial features softened, his height reduced. To anyone watching, he would appear as an unremarkable civilian, neither ninja nor threat.

He approached with deliberate noise, allowing his sandals to crunch on the gravel path. The boy's head snapped up, wariness instantly replacing sorrow.

"Hey there," Hashirama called, his voice modulated to sound friendly but ordinary. "It's getting late to be out here alone."

Naruto's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "I'm not doing anything wrong," he said defensively, already preparing for accusation. "This is a public training ground."

Hashirama approached slowly, then sat down on the grass several feet away, giving the boy space. "I didn't say you were doing anything wrong," he replied calmly. "Just noting it's getting dark."

The suspicion didn't leave Naruto's face. "Are you a ninja?" he asked bluntly.

A smile touched Hashirama's lips. "I was. A long time ago."

"You don't look that old," Naruto said, studying him openly now.

If only you knew, Hashirama thought. "Appearances can be deceiving," he said aloud. He plucked a blade of grass and, with a whisper of chakra too subtle for the boy to detect, caused it to twist and transform into a tiny, perfect green dragonfly. It sat on his palm for a moment before dissolving back into plant matter.

Naruto's eyes widened. "How did you do that? They don't teach us that at the Academy!"

"No, I don't imagine they would." Hashirama let his fingers trail through the grass, feeling the life in each blade. "Tell me, Naruto Uzumaki, do you know why the villagers treat you differently?"

The boy stiffened, suspicion returning full force. "How do you know my name?"

"Everyone in the village knows who you are," Hashirama replied truthfully. "Though few understand what that really means."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Naruto's voice wavered between defiance and curiosity.

Hashirama considered him for a long moment. "It means that you're special, though not for the reasons you might think. It means that you carry something within you that frightens people because they don't understand it." He leaned forward slightly. "It means that you have the potential to become the most powerful ninja this village has ever seen—greater than any Hokage who has come before."

The words hit their mark. Naruto's eyes widened, a complex mixture of emotions crossing his young face—disbelief, hope, longing, and suspicion all warring for dominance.

"You're lying," he said finally, but there was uncertainty in his voice. "Everyone says I'm the dead last. That I'll never amount to anything."

"And do you believe them?" Hashirama asked softly.

"No!" The answer came fiercely, instantly. "I'm going to be Hokage someday. Then they'll all have to acknowledge me!"

Hashirama nodded, satisfaction warming his chest. This was exactly what he had hoped to find—that indomitable spirit, that refusal to be beaten down despite everything the village had thrown at this child.

"What if," he said carefully, "I told you that I could help you achieve that dream? That I could teach you things no one at the Academy would ever show you?"

Naruto scrambled to his feet, excitement battling with ingrained caution. "Why would you help me? No one ever wants to help me."

The raw truth of those words struck Hashirama like a physical blow. He stood as well, looking down at this child who had been so thoroughly failed by the village he had sacrificed everything to build.

"Because I see in you what others are blind to," he answered honestly. "Because this village has lost its way, and someday, you might be the one to guide it back to what it should have been." He hesitated, then added, "And because everyone deserves at least one person who believes in them completely."

For the first time, the wariness in Naruto's eyes gave way to something else—a desperate, hungry hope. "What's your name?" he asked.

Hashirama smiled. "You can call me Yamato for now." The alias felt right—'mountain origin,' a nod to both his earth affinity and his status as the foundation of the village itself.

"For now?" Naruto repeated, catching the implication.

"Names have power, Naruto. One day, when the time is right, you'll know my true name and understand why I've chosen to remain in the shadows." He extended his hand. "But first, I need to know if you're willing to learn—and if you can keep a secret. What I have to teach you must remain between us alone."

The boy hesitated only a moment before reaching out, his small hand disappearing into Hashirama's larger one. "I can keep secrets," he said solemnly. "I've had plenty of practice."

The sadness in those words didn't escape Hashirama, but he pushed it aside. There would be time to heal those wounds later. For now, he had found his apprentice—the vessel through which he would reshape the shinobi world.

"Then let's begin," he said.

---

Deep in the Forest of Death, in a chamber formed by the intertwining trunks of ancient trees, Hashirama knelt before a small altar. The transformation jutsu had been released, and he appeared now as himself—the legendary First Hokage, the God of Shinobi, creator of the Leaf Village.

His breathing came harder than it should have, sweat beading on his brow. The meeting with Naruto, brief as it had been, had taxed him more than he cared to admit. The life-extension jutsu required increasing amounts of chakra to maintain as the years passed.

With steady hands, he uncorked a small vial of blood—obtained from a distant Senju relative through his network of agents—and poured it into a shallow stone bowl carved with intricate seals. His fingers moved through a complex sequence of signs, too fast for any normal eye to follow.

"Forbidden Art: Vitality Tether," he whispered.

The blood in the bowl began to glow with chakra, rising into the air in thin tendrils that wrapped around his arms and torso before sinking into his skin. Pain lanced through him, white-hot and searing, as the technique forcibly renewed his cellular structure using the genetic material of his clan.

When it was done, he sagged forward, palms flat against the cool stone floor, breathing heavily. The pain receded slowly, leaving behind renewed strength and vitality. He rose, examining his reflection in a pool of still water nearby. The few strands of silver in his hair had disappeared, the faint lines around his eyes smoothed away. The jutsu had bought him perhaps another month before he would need to repeat the process.

A small price to pay for what he intended to accomplish.

His network of agents—carefully selected over the decades, most never knowing the true identity of the master they served—had positioned themselves throughout the Five Great Nations. They watched, they listened, they influenced where they could. But none of them possessed what he needed for the final phase of his grand design.

None of them were jinchūriki. None carried within them the power of a Tailed Beast. None had the raw potential and spiritual strength of Naruto Uzumaki.

Hashirama moved to another pool, deeper and wider than the one he had used for scrying earlier. With a gesture, images formed on its surface—the Third Hokage in his office, looking older and more tired than Hashirama remembered; Danzo Shimura meeting clandestinely with masked ANBU operatives; a young Uchiha prodigy training alone in the forests outside the village.

"The pieces are moving," he murmured. "Faster than I anticipated."

His thoughts returned to Naruto—the hope that had blazed in those blue eyes when offered acknowledgment and guidance. The boy's hunger for recognition would make him an eager student, but it also presented a risk. If Hashirama pushed too hard, demanded too much, he might lose the very quality that made Naruto special—his innate compassion, his stubborn refusal to give up on people.

The irony wasn't lost on him. Here he was, the legendary First Hokage, reduced to recruiting a neglected child for his grand vision. A man who had once commanded armies now pinning his hopes on an Academy student who couldn't even perform a basic clone technique.

Yet the symmetry felt right somehow. Both of them outsiders now—Hashirama by choice, Naruto by circumstance. Both carrying burdens invisible to the world around them. Both destined to reshape the ninja world, though Naruto didn't know it yet.

Hashirama sank onto a bench formed by a curved root and closed his eyes, letting his senses extend outward through the living wood of the forest. He could feel the distant pulse of the village he had founded, the faint chakra signatures of its inhabitants like stars in a vast sky. Somewhere among them, a small sun burned brighter than the rest—Naruto, carrying the Nine-Tails' power.

"Forgive me, Mito," he whispered to his long-dead wife, the first jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails. "Forgive me, Minato and Kushina. I will use your son for my purposes, but I swear by all that I hold sacred, I will also give him what this village has denied him."

The only answer was the soft creaking of ancient wood and the whisper of leaves in the night breeze. The dead kept their counsel, and the living had to find their own way forward.

Tomorrow, Naruto's true training would begin. Not the Academy basics that the instructors deliberately taught him incorrectly, but the fundamental principles of chakra control that Hashirama himself had mastered nearly a century ago. The boy would struggle—the Nine-Tails' chakra made precision control difficult—but Hashirama had techniques to address that, methods developed during his wife's time as a jinchūriki.

And when the time was right, when Naruto had proven himself worthy, Hashirama would reveal the truth—about himself, about the village's founding, about the darkness that had been growing in the shadows for decades. About the threat that lurked beyond the horizon, a danger so great that it had driven the God of Shinobi himself into hiding rather than face it unprepared.

Hashirama Senju, the man who had died but never died, opened his eyes and smiled into the darkness.

"The board is set," he said to the empty air. "And now, at last, I have my king."

---

Dawn broke over the village, painting the carved faces of the Hokage Monument in hues of gold and amber. From his vantage point atop the First Hokage's stone head—an irony not lost on him—Hashirama watched as the village stirred to life.

How strange, he thought, to look upon your own memorial while still drawing breath.

His gaze drifted over the sprawling settlement below, so different from the modest collection of buildings he had overseen in his time as Hokage. The village had grown, expanded, changed in ways both predictable and surprising. Pride mingled with disappointment as he took it all in. They had built something remarkable here, yet somewhere along the way, they had lost sight of his original vision.

The Will of Fire had become a catchphrase rather than a guiding principle. The unity between clans that he had fought so hard to establish had given way to power struggles and political maneuvering. And the shinobi system itself, meant to end the endless warfare between clans, had simply transformed that conflict into larger-scale wars between nations.

He had failed. Or perhaps his vision had been flawed from the start.

Movement caught his eye—a small figure in orange darting through the streets below, heading toward the Academy. Naruto, running late as usual. Hashirama smiled despite himself. The boy's energy reminded him of his own brother, Tobirama, though his personality couldn't have been more different.

The smile faded as he watched a shopkeeper step deliberately into Naruto's path, forcing the boy to skid to a halt. Even from this distance, Hashirama could read the hostility in the man's posture, the fear and resentment directed at a child who had done nothing to deserve it.

Naruto squared his shoulders, said something that made the shopkeeper's face redden with anger, then darted around him and continued on his way. The defiance in that simple act spoke volumes.

He refuses to be broken, Hashirama thought with approval. Despite everything, he keeps that spark alive.

A memory surfaced—himself as a young boy, standing before his father after failing a training exercise. The bruises from his punishment still fresh, but his spirit undiminished. "I'll master it tomorrow," he had promised. And he had.

Perhaps that was what he saw in Naruto. Not just the potential jinchūriki vessel for his plans, but a reflection of his own indomitable will.

"Lord Hokage?"

The voice behind him belonged to Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage, approaching the monument for his own moment of morning reflection. Hashirama didn't turn, didn't breathe. His concealment jutsu was perfect, rendering him invisible even to the experienced senses of his former student.

Hiruzen stopped several feet away, unaware of the presence sharing the stone head with him. He looked older than Hashirama had ever seen him, bent under the weight of the Hokage's hat he had worn for too many years.

"I've tried to honor your legacy," Hiruzen said softly to the stone beneath his feet, believing himself alone. "But I fear I've fallen short in so many ways."

The simple admission, spoken to a mentor believed long dead, struck Hashirama like a physical blow. He wanted to reveal himself, to place a hand on Hiruzen's shoulder and tell him that the burden was never meant to be carried alone. That the failures were as much Hashirama's as anyone's.

But he remained silent, invisible. The time for such revelations had not yet come.

Hiruzen stayed for several minutes more, then departed with a heavy sigh, his footsteps receding down the path. Only when he was gone did Hashirama release his concealment, becoming visible once more.

"You did what you could, old friend," he said quietly. "But the system itself was flawed from its inception. I see that now."

The revelation had come to him gradually over his decades of observation. The village system, his proudest creation, contained the seeds of its own corruption. By organizing ninja into hidden villages serving feudal lords, he had hoped to end the chaos of the Warring States Period. Instead, he had merely institutionalized the conflict, creating power blocs that inevitably clashed in the Three Great Ninja Wars.

What was needed was something new—a complete reimagining of the shinobi world. Not villages serving nations, but a united force serving a higher purpose. Protection not just of borders and clients, but of humanity itself against threats they couldn't yet comprehend.

And to build it, he needed someone untainted by the old ways. Someone with the power to change hearts as well as overcome enemies. Someone like Naruto Uzumaki.

The sound of the Academy bell ringing in the distance drew his attention back to the present. Tonight, he would meet with his young protégé again, begin laying the groundwork for everything to come. It would take years—decades, perhaps—but time was the one resource Hashirama Senju had in abundance.

With a final glance at the village below, he formed a single hand sign and vanished in a swirl of leaves, leaving no trace of his presence behind.

---

The training ground was empty when Naruto arrived after dark, his steps hesitant but determined. Hashirama—still disguised as the unremarkable "Yamato"—watched from the shadows of the trees, assessing the boy's demeanor.

Excitement, nervousness, hope, and caution all warred for dominance in the child's expression. He had come alone, as instructed. More importantly, he had told no one about their meeting, judging by the ANBU patrol patterns Hashirama had monitored throughout the day.

Good. He can follow instructions when properly motivated.

Hashirama stepped out of the shadows, intentionally making enough noise to alert Naruto to his presence without startling him.

"You came," he observed, letting a note of approval warm his voice.

Naruto spun toward him, tension draining visibly from his small frame when he recognized "Yamato."

"I said I would," the boy replied with a hint of defiance, as if daring Hashirama to have expected otherwise.

"So you did." Hashirama walked to the center of the clearing and sat cross-legged on the ground, gesturing for Naruto to join him. "Before we begin, I need to know what they're teaching you at the Academy. Show me the basic chakra control exercise they've demonstrated."

Naruto's face fell. "The leaf concentration thing? I'm terrible at it."

"Show me anyway."

With clear reluctance, Naruto plucked a leaf from the ground, placed it on his forehead, and formed the concentration seal with his hands. The leaf trembled, lifted slightly, then shot away as if propelled by an explosion, landing several feet away.

"See?" Naruto said miserably. "I can't do it."

Hashirama picked up the leaf, examining it thoughtfully. "It's not that you can't do it," he said after a moment. "It's that you're using far too much chakra. Like trying to water a seedling with a waterfall."

He placed the leaf on his own forehead, where it remained perfectly still without him forming any visible hand sign. "The Academy teaches this exercise as if everyone has the same amount of chakra, which is nonsense. Different clans, different individuals—the variation is enormous." He plucked the leaf off and handed it back to Naruto. "And you, Naruto Uzumaki, have more chakra than most jōnin."

The boy's eyes widened. "I do?"

"You do. Which is why exercises designed for average Academy students will never work properly for you." Hashirama leaned forward. "Tell me, has anyone at the Academy explained what chakra actually is? Not just how to use it, but what it is?"

Naruto scrunched up his face in concentration. "It's... energy that ninjas use for jutsu?"

"A simplification, but not incorrect." Hashirama picked up a twig and began drawing in the dirt between them—a simple diagram of a human body with lines running through it. "Chakra is the combination of physical energy from every cell in your body and spiritual energy gained from exercise and experience. When these two energies mingle, they form chakra, which flows through specific pathways called the Chakra Pathway System."

He added more lines to the diagram, creating a network throughout the drawn figure. "These pathways connect to 361 chakra points, or tenketsu, which are like... think of them as gates. By controlling which gates are open and which are closed, a skilled ninja can direct chakra wherever it's needed."

Naruto was leaning forward now, his eyes fixed on the diagram with unexpected intensity. "Is that how jutsu work?"

"Exactly. Hand signs help shape and direct chakra, but they're just tools. The real work happens in those pathways." Hashirama tapped the center of the diagram. "And here, in the core, is where physical and spiritual energies first combine. This is where control begins."

He drew a second figure next to the first, adding a swirling pattern at its center. "In most people, chakra forms and flows naturally, requiring only direction. But you, Naruto, have something else inside you that complicates matters."

The boy stiffened. "What do you mean?"

Hashirama met his gaze steadily. "I think you know that you're different. That there's something inside you that others fear."

Naruto looked away, his small hands clenching into fists. "Is it... am I a monster? Like they say?"

The raw pain in those words struck Hashirama like a physical blow. He reached out, placing a hand gently on Naruto's shoulder. "No. You are not a monster, and never let anyone tell you otherwise. What you carry inside you is a being of immense power, yes, but you and it are separate entities. You are its jailer, its container—not the beast itself."

"Beast?" Naruto whispered.

"The Nine-Tailed Fox," Hashirama said simply. "The most powerful of the Tailed Beasts, sealed within you when you were an infant to save the village from destruction."

The revelation hung in the air between them. Hashirama watched emotions chase across Naruto's face—shock, disbelief, understanding, and then, most painfully, a terrible clarity as pieces of his life suddenly made sense.

"That's why everyone hates me," he said finally, his voice small. "Why they look at me like I'm... like I'm..."

"Like you're a weapon they fear might go off," Hashirama finished for him. "Yes. But they're wrong, Naruto. They confuse the scroll with the kunai sealed inside it."

"The what?"

Hashirama smiled. "An old saying. It means they fail to understand that you are not the Nine-Tails, merely its container. And more importantly, they fail to see that this makes you not a danger, but potentially the village's greatest protector."

Hope flickered in Naruto's eyes, tentative but real. "Really?"

"Really." Hashirama tapped the swirling pattern he'd drawn. "The Nine-Tails' chakra interferes with your own, making standard chakra control exercises nearly impossible for you. But I can teach you methods to work around this—techniques developed for others who carried this burden before you."

"There were others like me?"

"Yes. The first was my wife, Mito Uzumaki."

Naruto's head snapped up. "Uzumaki? Like me?"

Hashirama nodded, allowing himself a genuine smile. "The Uzumaki clan were distant relatives of my own clan, the Senju. They were renowned for their powerful life force, longevity, and exceptional chakra. That's part of why you were chosen—your Uzumaki heritage makes you naturally suited to contain the Nine-Tails."

The boy absorbed this information with surprising calm, his young mind rapidly connecting dots. "So I'm not... I'm not just some random orphan? I had a clan? A family?"

"You did. A great and powerful clan, nearly wiped out during the wars." Hashirama hesitated, then added gently, "And you had parents who loved you very much, who gave their lives to protect you and the village on the night the Nine-Tails attacked."

Tears welled in Naruto's eyes, but he blinked them back fiercely. "Who were they? My parents?"

Hashirama weighed his options. Revealing Naruto's parentage now might be too much, too soon. The knowledge that his father was the Fourth Hokage, the village's greatest hero, while the villagers treated his son like trash—it could breed resentment rather than determination.

"That," he said carefully, "is a truth for another day. When you're ready to bear it. For now, let's focus on what I can teach you tonight—the first step toward controlling your unique chakra."

Disappointment flashed across Naruto's face, but he nodded, accepting the deferral with more maturity than Hashirama had expected.

"Place your hands like this," Hashirama demonstrated, forming a seal different from the standard Academy concentration pose. "This is a modified Ram seal, developed specifically for those with exceptional chakra reserves."

Naruto mimicked the position, his small fingers awkward but determined.

"Good. Now, close your eyes and look inward. Don't try to grasp your chakra—that's what they teach at the Academy, and it's wrong for someone like you. Instead, imagine you're standing in a river of light. You don't need to control the river; you just need to direct a small stream of it where you want it to go."

For the next hour, Hashirama guided Naruto through exercises no Academy student would learn—techniques developed for jinchūriki, modified for a child's understanding. The boy struggled, grew frustrated, nearly gave up twice, but pushed through with a determination that impressed even Hashirama.

And then, just as the moon reached its zenith, it happened. The leaf on Naruto's forehead trembled, rose an inch, and hovered steadily in place.

"I'm doing it!" Naruto exclaimed, his concentration instantly broken as the leaf fluttered away. "Did you see that? I really did it!"

Hashirama couldn't help but laugh at the boy's unbridled joy. "You did. And with practice, you'll do much more." He rose to his feet, noting the lateness of the hour. "That's enough for tonight. I want you to practice this exercise daily, but only in private. No one can know what I'm teaching you."

Naruto scrambled up as well, his earlier wariness completely gone. "When will I see you again? Will you teach me jutsu next time? Something cool like that dragon thing you did yesterday?"

"Patience," Hashirama chided gently. "Chakra control comes first. Without it, even the most powerful techniques are useless." He placed a hand on Naruto's head, the gesture surprisingly paternal. "Three days from now, same time, same place. And remember, tell no one."

"I promise!" Naruto's expression turned serious. "Um... Yamato-sensei? Thank you. For telling me about the Nine-Tails. For not being afraid of me."

Something in Hashirama's chest tightened. This child, this vessel he had chosen for his grand design, looked at him with such trust, such gratitude for the simple act of treating him like a person rather than a pariah or a weapon.

Is this manipulation? he asked himself. Am I any better than Danzo, using a child for my own ends?

But he knew the difference. Danzo would use Naruto and discard him, sacrifice him without hesitation for what he deemed the "greater good." Hashirama would give Naruto the tools to become something greater than a mere weapon—to become a leader, a reformer, perhaps even a revolutionary.

"No one who truly understands what you contain would fear you, Naruto," he said softly. "They would honor you for the burden you bear. And someday, they will."

The promise hung in the night air between them—master and student, manipulator and tool, or perhaps, in some strange way, father and son. Only time would reveal which relationship would ultimately define them.

As Naruto turned to leave, Hashirama called after him one last time.

"Remember, Naruto—you are not the beast. You are its master. And one day, you will be master of your own destiny as well."

The boy grinned over his shoulder, his usual bravado returning now that the emotional weight of their conversation had lifted. "Believe it!" he shouted, then raced off into the darkness toward the village.

Hashirama watched him go, a complex mixture of emotions churning within him. Pride, guilt, hope, and determination—all focused on the small figure disappearing into the night. The First Hokage, the God of Shinobi, the man who had changed the very nature of the ninja world once already, allowed himself a moment of uncertainty.

Have I chosen wisely? Is this child truly the one who can carry my vision forward?

But as he released his transformation jutsu, returning to his true form in the empty training ground, he knew the die was cast. For better or worse, Naruto Uzumaki was now the linchpin of his grand design—the king on his chessboard, moving slowly but inexorably toward a future only Hashirama could envision.

"May you forgive me someday," he whispered to the absent boy, "for what I am about to make of you."

With that, the First Hokage—the man who had died but never died—vanished into the shadows, leaving no trace of his presence behind. The Immortal Shadow, working his will through the hands of a child who would one day reshape the world.

# WHAT IF HASHIRAMA SENJU NEVER DIES AND NARUTO SECRETLY WORKS FOR HIM

## CHAPTER 2: THE FOX'S APPRENTICE

Moonlight sliced through the forest canopy in silver blades, casting the training ground in patches of light and shadow. Naruto's breath came in white puffs in the cold night air as he executed the chakra control exercise for the twelfth time. Sweat trickled down his temple despite the chill, his small face scrunched in concentration.

"Again," Hashirama commanded, still wearing his "Yamato" disguise. "Feel the difference between your chakra and the Nine-Tails'. Yours is like sunlight; the Fox's is like fire."

Naruto gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. Three months had passed since their first meeting, and these midnight training sessions had become the center of his existence. Three nights a week, without fail, regardless of weather or exhaustion, he would slip away from his empty apartment and meet his mysterious sensei here.

"I feel it," Naruto whispered, his voice tight with effort. "Like... like they're flowing in different directions."

"Good. Now separate them. Redirect only your chakra to your palm."

A blue glow flickered to life in Naruto's outstretched hand—faint at first, then steadying, growing brighter. No hint of the Nine-Tails' corrosive red energy contaminated the pure blue light.

"I'm doing it!" Naruto's eyes flew open in excitement, and immediately the chakra in his palm destabilized, sputtering out in a small burst that sent him stumbling backward.

Hashirama caught him by the shoulder, steadying him. "Better," he said. "Much better than last week. You're learning to distinguish between the two energy sources."

Naruto beamed at the praise, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Soon I'll be able to do real jutsu, right?"

"Soon," Hashirama agreed, a smile softening his disguised features. "But fundamentals first. No house stands without a foundation."

The boy couldn't entirely hide his disappointment, kicking at the dirt with his sandal. "But we've been doing chakra control for months. The kids at the Academy are already learning Clone Jutsu and Transformation."

"And how are you performing in class?" Hashirama asked with a raised eyebrow.

Naruto's grin turned sly. "Terrible. Just like you told me to. I'm the dead last, believe it!"

"Good." Hashirama led him to a fallen log at the edge of the clearing. "Sit. It's time we discussed your Academy performance in more detail."

The moonlight caught the furrows in Naruto's brow as he plopped down on the log. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"On the contrary. Your performance as the 'dead last' has been perfect." Hashirama settled beside him, his voice dropping. "But I need to know exactly what they're teaching you—and more importantly, what they're not."

Naruto's expression darkened. "Iruka-sensei tries to help me sometimes, but the other teachers..." He trailed off, then shrugged with forced nonchalance. "They either ignore me or give me the wrong instructions. Mizuki-sensei told me the hand signs for Clone Jutsu, but he switched two of them. I only know because I saw what he showed the other kids."

Hashirama's jaw tightened. Even expecting such treatment, hearing it confirmed stoked a fire in his chest. The village he had built, treating a child this way. Deliberately sabotaging his education.

"Show me the correct signs for Clone Jutsu," he instructed, pushing aside his anger.

Naruto formed the sequence perfectly—Ram, Snake, Tiger.

"Again, but slower."

The boy complied, his small fingers moving with more precision than he ever showed in class.

"Excellent. Now, here's what will happen tomorrow. When Mizuki asks you to perform the jutsu, use the incorrect signs he taught you. Fail spectacularly."

Naruto's face fell. "But I could do it now. I know I could."

"I'm sure you could," Hashirama said softly. "But the time for revealing your true abilities hasn't come. Remember our agreement, Naruto. In public, you must remain—"

"The dead last," Naruto finished with a sigh. "I know. It's just... hard sometimes."

Hashirama studied the boy's downcast face, moonlight catching the whisker marks on his cheeks. In these moments, the God of Shinobi felt the uncomfortable weight of what he was asking. For a child starved of acknowledgment to deliberately perform poorly, to invite the scorn and dismissal of his peers and teachers—it was a cruel demand.

"What we're doing requires patience and sacrifice," Hashirama said, placing a hand on Naruto's shoulder. "The transformation jutsu I taught you for communicating secretly—have you been practicing it?"

Naruto's expression brightened. "Yeah! Watch this!"

His hands blurred through signs, and a puff of smoke enveloped him. When it cleared, a small orange fox sat where the boy had been, its bright blue eyes distinctly out of place on the vulpine face.

"Excellent disguise for sending messages," Hashirama approved. "No one would connect a random fox to you. Now show me the emergency signal."

The fox's fur rippled, briefly flashing with a subtle pattern of darker orange markings before returning to normal.

"Perfect." Hashirama nodded, genuinely impressed. "You've mastered a layered transformation—most chūnin would struggle with that technique."

With another puff of smoke, Naruto returned to his human form, flushed with pride. "It's easier than the regular Academy stuff! I don't know why, but it just... makes more sense the way you teach it."

"Because I'm teaching you methods designed for your specific chakra nature, not the standardized techniques that work for average students." Hashirama rose, walking to the center of the clearing. "The Academy curriculum was designed for efficiency, not excellence. It produces adequate shinobi, not exceptional ones."

He turned, moonlight casting his face in sharp relief. "But you, Naruto, will be exceptional. Now, show me your progress with the chakra suppression technique."

For the next hour, they worked on Naruto's ability to mask his massive chakra reserves—a crucial skill for maintaining his cover. By the end, the boy could reduce his detectable chakra signature to that of a below-average Academy student, though the effort left him trembling with exhaustion.

"Enough for tonight," Hashirama decided, noting the dark circles under Naruto's eyes. "You have the written exam tomorrow. Remember—"

"I know, I know. Get just enough answers right to pass, but not enough to stand out." Naruto yawned, stretching his arms over his head. "Can I ask you something, Yamato-sensei?"

"Of course."

"Why are we doing all this? I mean, I get the training part, but why keep it secret? Why do I have to pretend to be stupid?"

The question hung in the night air between them. Hashirama had known it would come eventually, had prepared for it, yet still found himself weighing his words carefully.

"What do you know about strategy games, Naruto? Shōgi, perhaps?"

The boy scrunched his nose. "Boring games old men play?"

Hashirama chuckled. "Not entirely wrong. In shōgi, the most powerful piece is the king. Yet the wise player doesn't reveal the king's true strength until the critical moment. Keep your greatest asset hidden, and your opponents will underestimate you." He knelt to Naruto's eye level. "You are my king piece, Naruto. And for now, your greatest advantage is that no one knows your true potential."

Naruto's eyes widened at the comparison. "So I'm like... a secret weapon?"

"In a manner of speaking." Hashirama chose his next words with care. "The world of shinobi is more dangerous and complex than what they teach you at the Academy. There are forces moving in the shadows, people with plans that would bring great harm to the village—to you specifically."

"Because of the Nine-Tails?"

"Yes. There are those who see you not as Naruto Uzumaki, but as a container to be captured, a power to be harnessed." Hashirama placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. "By appearing average—even below average—you become invisible to these forces. They look for prodigies, for exceptional talents to either recruit or eliminate. The dead last of the Academy? Not worth their attention."

Understanding dawned in Naruto's blue eyes. "It's like a disguise jutsu, but with my whole life."

"Precisely." Hashirama straightened. "Now, it's late. Use the shadow path I showed you to return to your apartment. And remember—"

"No chakra use where anyone might sense it. I know." Naruto turned to leave, then hesitated. "Yamato-sensei? Will I ever get to show what I can really do? To anyone?"

The question carried all the weight of a child's need for recognition, for validation. Hashirama felt that uncomfortable twist again—the conflict between his strategic aims and his growing attachment to this bright, determined boy.

"Yes," he promised. "When the time is right, the world will see the true Naruto Uzumaki. And they will be astonished."

The smile that lit up Naruto's face was like the sun breaking through clouds. He gave a quick bow, then darted into the forest, using the concealed path that would take him back to the village unseen.

Hashirama waited until the boy's chakra signature had faded into the distance before releasing his transformation jutsu. His true form—taller, broader, with long dark hair and the unmistakable features of the First Hokage—emerged from the disguise like a butterfly from a chrysalis.

"He learns quickly," he murmured to himself. "Far more quickly than I anticipated."

The potential in Naruto Uzumaki exceeded even Hashirama's expectations. His Uzumaki lineage combined with the Nine-Tails' power created possibilities that were, frankly, astonishing. If properly harnessed, properly guided...

Hashirama shook his head. Such thoughts were for later. For now, the foundation was being laid—brick by brick, lesson by lesson.

With a single hand sign, the God of Shinobi vanished into the night, leaving no trace of his presence behind.

---

Morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the Academy classroom, dust motes dancing in the golden beams. Naruto slouched in his seat, one hand propping up his chin, eyes half-lidded in a convincing display of boredom. Inside, however, his mind raced with the chakra control exercises Hashirama had taught him the night before.

Separate the energies. Sunlight and fire. Redirect only the sunlight.

"Naruto Uzumaki!" Iruka's sharp voice cut through his thoughts. "Pay attention! This material will be on tomorrow's test!"

Naruto blinked slowly, deliberately, then broke into his practiced troublemaker grin. "Sorry, Iruka-sensei! I was thinking about lunch!"

Titters of laughter rippled through the classroom. Predictable. Expected. Safe.

Across the aisle, Sasuke Uchiha gave him a dismissive glance before returning his attention to the front. The last loyal Uchiha—one of the people Hashirama had specifically instructed Naruto to observe. Not that it was difficult; half the class watched Sasuke constantly, particularly the girls.

"As I was saying," Iruka continued, "chakra manipulation is the foundation of all jutsu. Without proper control, even the simplest techniques will fail."

Naruto pretended to yawn, earning another sharp look from his teacher. In reality, he absorbed every word, comparing Iruka's explanation to Hashirama's more detailed teachings.

The Academy version is simplified to the point of being misleading, he thought. They're teaching basics without context, forms without understanding.

When Iruka announced a practical demonstration of chakra control, Naruto knew his role. As the students lined up, each taking turns attempting to levitate a leaf using only chakra, he prepared for his carefully calibrated failure.

"Naruto," Iruka called, "your turn."

He shuffled forward, making a show of cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders. "Just watch, everybody! I'm gonna make this leaf fly to the ceiling!"

The expected eye-rolls and snickers followed. Perfect.

Naruto formed the hand sign—correctly—and focused on the leaf. Then, with subtle precision Hashirama would have approved of, he flooded the leaf with far too much chakra. It shot upward, burst into flames mid-air, and drifted down as ashes.

"Naruto!" Iruka's exasperation was genuine. "Control means restraint! You can't just pour chakra out like water from a tap!"

"Sorry, Iruka-sensei," he mumbled, assuming his crestfallen expression with practiced ease. As he slunk back to his seat, he caught Sasuke's dismissive smirk.

Underestimate me, Naruto thought with unexpected bitterness. All of you. It's what you're supposed to do.

But the act weighed on him more heavily with each passing day. Being the class clown, the troublemaker, the dead last—it had been his genuine role before meeting Hashirama. Now it was a performance, and maintaining it grew increasingly difficult as the gap between his public persona and private abilities widened.

At lunch, he sat alone on his usual swing, watching the other children gather in their familiar groups. His isolation, once a source of deep pain, now served as convenient cover for observing his classmates—cataloging their strengths, weaknesses, and relationships as Hashirama had taught him.

"I am going to pass this time," he declared loudly to no one in particular, maintaining his persona even when seemingly alone. One never knew who might be watching. "Believe it!"

From his vantage point, he could see Sasuke sitting apart from the others, methodically eating his lunch. The Uchiha's self-imposed isolation mirrored Naruto's own, though for entirely different reasons.

"Watch him closely," Hashirama had instructed. "The Uchiha bloodline carries both great power and great risk. Sasuke stands at a crossroads, though he doesn't know it yet."

A flash of pink caught Naruto's attention—Sakura Haruno, approaching Sasuke with determined steps only to be rebuffed with a cold glance. She retreated, crestfallen, and Naruto felt a genuine pang of sympathy beneath his calculated observation.

The afternoon lessons dragged on, and Naruto played his part—asking deliberately obtuse questions, making just enough noise to be disruptive without earning expulsion, appearing to struggle with concepts he had mastered months ago under Hashirama's tutelage.

By the time the final bell rang, his face ached from maintaining his fake expressions, his mind weary from the constant double-awareness of what he knew versus what he should appear to know.

"Naruto, stay behind," Iruka called as the other students filed out.

He slouched at his desk until the classroom emptied, then slouched even more dramatically as Iruka approached.

"The graduation exam is tomorrow," his teacher said, leaning against the desk beside him. "Are you prepared this time?"

Naruto pasted on his broadest, most confident grin. "Of course! Third time's the charm, right?"

Iruka's expression softened with concern. "Naruto, you need to take this seriously. If you fail again—"

"I won't fail!" he interrupted, injecting just the right amount of bravado into his voice. "I've been practicing super hard! I'm definitely going to be a ninja this time!"

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue. According to Hashirama's plan, he would indeed fail tomorrow—at least initially. The final step in establishing his cover before moving to the next phase.

Iruka sighed. "I hope so, Naruto. I really do." He hesitated, then added, "You know, if you need help studying tonight, I could—"

"Thanks, but I'm good!" Naruto hopped up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "I've got my own special training plan! You'll see!"

He dashed from the classroom before Iruka could respond, guilt gnawing at his insides. Of all the Academy teachers, Iruka alone showed him genuine kindness. Deceiving him felt worse than fooling the others.

Outside, the afternoon sun bathed the Academy yard in golden light. Naruto took his time walking home, mentally reviewing the plan for tomorrow's exam. Fail the conventional test, creating the opportunity for the backup scenario Hashirama had predicted—a scenario involving the Forbidden Scroll and, quite possibly, Mizuki-sensei, whose suspicious behavior had caught Hashirama's attention weeks ago.

"A trap within a trap," Hashirama had explained. "They will try to use you, but in reality, we will be using them."

The complexities of the plan still made Naruto's head swim. So many layers, so many contingencies. It was like playing three-dimensional shōgi while blindfolded.

As he rounded the corner toward his apartment, a now-familiar sensation prickled at the edge of his awareness—a subtle chakra signature, carefully masked but detectable to his enhanced senses. ANBU surveillance. The black ops shinobi had been watching him intermittently for weeks, though he pretended not to notice.

Just a loud, oblivious Academy student, he reminded himself, deliberately scuffing his sandals and humming tunelessly as he walked. Nothing to see here.

Inside his apartment, he maintained the act—leaving instant ramen cups scattered about, tossing his bag carelessly onto the unmade bed, talking to himself about tomorrow's exam in his most boisterous voice. Only when darkness fell, and he had executed the subtle detection technique Hashirama taught him to confirm the ANBU watcher had departed, did he allow his shoulders to sag with relief.

"Finally," he muttered, dropping the mask of boundless energy to reveal the exhaustion beneath.

He moved to the small plant on his windowsill—an ordinary-looking sprout that was anything but ordinary. Hashirama had given it to him three weeks ago, a specially cultivated creation infused with the First Hokage's distinctive chakra. It served as both a communication device and an emergency beacon.

Naruto formed a series of hand signs and touched the plant's leaves. They quivered, then parted to reveal a tiny scroll that hadn't been there moments before.

The message was brief, written in a cipher only he would understand:

Tomorrow proceeds as planned. After failure, expect approach from M. Follow but remain wary. Full moon, usual place.

Naruto committed the message to memory, then formed another hand sign. The scroll dissolved into the plant, leaving no evidence of its existence.

He fell back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow would change everything. The first major step in Hashirama's grand design, setting in motion events that would—according to his mysterious sensei—eventually reshape the entire shinobi world.

And he, Naruto Uzumaki, the dead last, the village pariah, was the linchpin of it all.

The thought should have thrilled him. Instead, a hollow ache spread beneath his ribs. He rolled onto his side, eyes finding the picture he'd tacked to the wall—the Academy class photo. His own face grinned out from it, surrounded by classmates who mostly ignored or derided him.

For a brief, forbidden moment, he allowed himself to imagine a different path—one where he didn't have to pretend, didn't have to hide, didn't have to deceive. Where he could simply be a normal Academy student, struggling with normal challenges, seeking normal acknowledgment.

The fantasy dissolved as quickly as it had formed. Nothing about him had ever been normal. The Nine-Tails saw to that. At least with Hashirama's guidance, his abnormality had purpose, direction, meaning.

"You are my king piece," Hashirama had said.

Naruto closed his eyes, clinging to those words as he drifted toward sleep. Tomorrow, the game would truly begin.

---

"Fail!" Iruka's voice cut through the tense silence of the examination room.

Naruto stood in the center, the failed attempt at a Clone Jutsu dissipating beside him—a pale, sickly doppelgänger that had collapsed into itself almost immediately upon creation. His performance had been perfect; a precisely calibrated failure that looked like his best effort.

"But Iruka-sensei," Mizuki interjected with manufactured sympathy, "he did execute the jutsu basics, and he's improved since last time. Perhaps we could pass him..."

"No," Iruka said firmly. "The other students created three effective clones. Naruto couldn't even create one. I can't pass him."

Naruto's face crumpled in what appeared to be genuine devastation. Inside, he observed the exchange with clinical detachment, noting Mizuki's calculated intervention—just as Hashirama had predicted.

He stumbled from the room, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast. Outside, he positioned himself on the solitary swing where he could watch the successful graduates receiving congratulations from proud parents. The isolation, the contrast—all part of setting the stage.

Right on cue, Mizuki appeared at his side, sympathy painted across features that Naruto now recognized as carefully controlled.

"Don't take it too hard, Naruto," the white-haired chūnin said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Iruka is tough because he wants you to be strong."

"But I tried so hard," Naruto replied, injecting a tremor into his voice. "This was my third attempt..."

"You know," Mizuki leaned closer, voice dropping conspiratorially, "there is another way to graduate. A special, secret test..."

Naruto widened his eyes, allowing hope to light his features. "Really? What kind of test?"

As Mizuki outlined the "secret graduation requirement"—stealing the Forbidden Scroll of Sealing from the Hokage's office—Naruto maintained his expression of naive excitement while mentally tracing the contours of the trap. The pieces aligned exactly with Hashirama's prediction: Mizuki was using him as a pawn to obtain the scroll, likely for traitorous purposes.

"Can you do it, Naruto?" Mizuki asked, his friendly smile never reaching his eyes.

"Yes!" Naruto pumped his fist with manufactured determination. "I'll definitely pass this special test! Believe it!"

Events unfolded with almost mechanical precision after that. The theft of the scroll, accomplished through a combination of his "Sexy Jutsu" (a deliberately ridiculous technique he'd developed for his troublemaker persona) and the more subtle infiltration methods Hashirama had taught him. The retreat to the forest meeting point. The opening of the scroll to maintain his cover of innocent deception.

What wasn't part of the plan was his genuine interest in the jutsu contained within. His eyes widened as he unrolled the ancient parchment, recognizing techniques far more advanced than anything taught at the Academy. The first one listed—Shadow Clone Jutsu—immediately caught his attention.

This addresses my exact weakness, he realized, scanning the instructions. And it uses more chakra than the standard Clone Jutsu, which makes it actually easier for me.

Hashirama had explained this paradox months ago: Naruto's massive chakra reserves made delicate, low-power techniques more difficult than powerful ones. It was like trying to fill a thimble from a waterfall.

With the scroll open before him and time to spare before Mizuki's arrival, Naruto made a split-second decision. He would actually learn this technique—not just pretend to. It aligned perfectly with his cover; no one would question the dead last suddenly mastering a single advanced jutsu through desperate determination.

He set to work with focused intensity, practicing the hand signs and chakra manipulation required. By the time he sensed Iruka's approaching chakra signature, sweat soaked his jumpsuit and a triumphant grin split his face.

I did it!

The confrontation with Iruka played out much as expected—initial anger giving way to concern, then shock as Naruto revealed Mizuki's deception. When the traitorous teacher finally appeared, hurling accusations and revealing the truth about the Nine-Tails, Naruto maintained his expression of horrified surprise despite having known the secret for months.

But the moment Mizuki attacked—the massive shuriken spinning toward him with lethal intent—something unexpected happened. Iruka threw himself into the weapon's path, taking the blow meant for Naruto. Blood splattered across the forest floor, and Naruto's carefully maintained act shattered in the face of genuine emotion.

"Why?" he gasped, the question torn from someplace real inside him.

"Because," Iruka said through gritted teeth, pain etched across his features, "we're the same. I know the pain of being alone... and I should have done more to help you."

Something hot and fierce expanded in Naruto's chest—an emotion he couldn't immediately identify. Not part of the act, not part of the plan, but something raw and powerful that surged through him like wildfire.

When Mizuki attacked again, Naruto didn't need to fake his reaction. He formed the hand sign for his newly mastered technique, channeling chakra with an intensity that illuminated the clearing.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

The forest exploded with hundreds of solid clones—not the sickly illusions he'd deliberately produced in the exam, but perfect, physical duplicates thrumming with chakra. They filled the clearing, surrounded Mizuki, and moved with synchronized purpose.

The beating they delivered was swift and decisive, leaving the traitor unconscious in a crater of his own making.

As the clones dispelled in puffs of smoke, Naruto stood over Mizuki's prone form, breathing hard. The raw power he'd just channeled hummed beneath his skin, intoxicating in its potential. For the first time, he'd shown a fraction of his true ability—and it had felt glorious.

"Naruto," Iruka called weakly from where he leaned against a tree. "Come here. I have something for you."

What followed—receiving Iruka's own headband, being acknowledged as a graduate, as a true ninja of the Hidden Leaf—affected Naruto more deeply than he'd anticipated. The genuine pride in Iruka's eyes pierced straight through his practiced defenses, touching something starved and needy within.

This wasn't part of Hashirama's plan. This genuine connection, this moment of true acknowledgment—it complicated things in ways Naruto wasn't prepared for.

Later that night, with the Leaf headband carefully placed on his bedside table, Naruto slipped away to the usual meeting place. The full moon illuminated the clearing where Hashirama waited in his true form, having deemed the events significant enough to drop his "Yamato" disguise.

"Well done," the First Hokage said, his commanding presence making the clearing seem smaller somehow. "Everything proceeded exactly as anticipated."

Naruto bowed formally, still processing the tumultuous emotions of the day. "Mizuki has been arrested. The scroll is secure. And I've graduated, as you predicted."

"And you've mastered the Shadow Clone Jutsu," Hashirama observed with a raised eyebrow. "That was an unexpected bonus."

"It seemed like a good opportunity," Naruto replied, a hint of defiance creeping into his voice. "The technique suits my chakra nature perfectly."

Hashirama studied him for a long moment, those ancient eyes seeming to peer straight into Naruto's conflicted heart. "Something troubles you," he said finally. "Speak freely."

Naruto hesitated, unsure how to articulate the tangle of emotions inside him. "Iruka-sensei... he protected me. Took a shuriken in the back. For me." His hands clenched at his sides. "He didn't know it was all a setup. He thought I was really in danger, and he was willing to die to save me."

Understanding dawned in Hashirama's expression. "And now you feel guilt for deceiving him."

"Yes." The admission burst from Naruto like water through a cracked dam. "He gave me his own headband. Said he was proud of me. But it's all based on a lie!"

"Is it?" Hashirama moved closer, his towering figure backlit by moonlight. "Did you not truly master an advanced jutsu in mere hours—something that would impress any teacher? Did you not defeat a traitorous chūnin and protect the Forbidden Scroll?" He placed a hand on Naruto's shoulder. "The context may involve deception, but your achievements were genuine."

Naruto absorbed these words, finding comfort in their logic even as doubt lingered. "It still feels wrong. Iruka-sensei is the only one at the Academy who ever believed in me, and I'm tricking him."

"Deception is the shinobi's tool," Hashirama said, his voice gentle despite the hardness of the words. "The path we walk requires difficult choices, masks worn for protection—both our own and others'." He knelt to Naruto's eye level. "But remember this: Our end goal is a world where such deception becomes unnecessary. Where the shadows that govern ninja society are replaced by light."

The grand vision Hashirama had shared over months of training—a complete reimagining of the shinobi world order, built on transparency and cooperation rather than secrets and division. A beautiful dream, but the path to it seemed increasingly thorny.

"Besides," Hashirama continued, "by keeping Iruka ignorant of our true purpose, you protect him. Knowledge is danger in our world."

Naruto nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing somewhat. "What happens next?"

"Team assignments," Hashirama replied, straightening to his full height. "Based on your graduation ranking, you'll be placed on a team with Sasuke Uchiha and likely Sakura Haruno, under Kakashi Hatake's leadership."

Naruto's eyes widened. "You know this already? The teams haven't been announced!"

A smile touched Hashirama's lips. "The dead last is traditionally paired with the top student to balance the team. Iruka will follow this practice. As for Kakashi..." His expression grew more serious. "He presents both opportunity and risk. As the former student of your father, he'll have a natural interest in your development. However, his perceptiveness makes him dangerous to our secrecy."

"My father?" Naruto seized on the casual reference. "You knew my father?"

Hashirama's expression shifted, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—crossing his features. "That slipped out sooner than I intended." He sighed. "Yes, I knew your father. But that truth, like many others, must wait for the right moment. For now, focus on your team placement."

Frustration bubbled in Naruto's chest, but he pushed it down. Hashirama parceled out information like precious gems, revealing only what he deemed necessary for each phase of his plan.

"Your role becomes more complex now," Hashirama continued. "As a genin, you'll be under constant observation by your jōnin leader. Maintain your cover, but begin a gradual, believable progression in your abilities. Nothing dramatic—just enough improvement to be attributed to proper training and determination."

"And if we face real danger?" Naruto asked. "Do I hold back even then?"

"Use your judgment," Hashirama replied. "Protect your teammates, of course, but avoid revealing abilities that would raise suspicion." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Particularly around Sasuke Uchiha. Observe him closely, but reveal nothing that might provoke his... competitive nature."

Naruto nodded, mentally cataloging these instructions alongside the dozens of others Hashirama had given him over the months. The web of deception grew more intricate with each passing day.

"Now," Hashirama said, his tone shifting to that of a teacher, "show me this Shadow Clone Jutsu you've mastered."

For the next hour, Naruto demonstrated the technique, creating hundreds of solid clones that filled the moonlit clearing. Hashirama walked among them, inspecting their quality with an expert eye, occasionally offering refinements to Naruto's chakra distribution.

"Exceptional," he declared finally. "Your chakra reserves make this jutsu particularly effective for you. Most jōnin could create perhaps twenty clones before exhaustion; you can create hundreds without significant strain."

Pride bloomed in Naruto's chest at the praise from the legendary shinobi. Whatever doubts plagued him about their path, moments like these—being truly seen and appreciated for his abilities—made the deception bearable.

"There's one more technique I want to teach you tonight," Hashirama said, forming a hand sign Naruto didn't recognize. "A method of communication more secure than the plant messenger. Watch closely."

He pressed his palm to the ground, and thin wooden tendrils sprouted from his fingertips, spreading outward in an intricate pattern before sinking into the earth.

"A simplified version of my Wood Style," he explained. "Modified to be compatible with your chakra nature. This will allow you to send messages through any plant life, messages that only I can receive."

Naruto's eyes widened. "You're teaching me Wood Style? But that's your bloodline technique! I thought only you could use it!"

"A very limited application, nothing like my true abilities," Hashirama clarified. "Consider it... borrowing a fraction of my affinity rather than truly wielding the kekkei genkai." He gestured for Naruto to try. "Focus your chakra as I showed you, but imagine it branching outward like tree roots."

Naruto placed his palm against the ground, concentrating intensely. At first, nothing happened. Then, slowly, tiny green shoots emerged from beneath his hand—not the sturdy wooden tendrils Hashirama had produced, but living plant matter nonetheless.

"Good," Hashirama encouraged. "Now infuse it with your intent—a simple message."

Sweat beaded on Naruto's forehead as he concentrated on the words: I will become Hokage.

The tiny shoots trembled, absorbing the chakra-encoded message before sinking back into the earth. Moments later, similar shoots emerged near Hashirama's feet, conveying the message to him.

"Ambitious," the First Hokage commented with a small smile. "And entirely possible, given your potential." His expression grew more serious. "Practice this technique in absolute privacy. If anyone—anyone at all—were to witness you using even this simplified Wood Style, questions would arise that we cannot answer yet."

Naruto nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. Wood Style was Hashirama's signature ability, believed to have died with him. Any connection between Naruto and this technique would immediately raise suspicions about his training.

"It's nearly dawn," Hashirama observed, looking toward the lightening eastern sky. "Return to the village. Rest. Prepare for your team assignment tomorrow." He placed a hand on Naruto's head in a gesture that had become familiar over the months—part benediction, part affirmation. "You've done well, Naruto. The foundation is laid. Now we begin building in earnest."

As Naruto turned to leave, Hashirama called after him one more time.

"And Naruto? The guilt you feel about Iruka... hold onto it."

Naruto paused, looking back in confusion.

"Not to punish yourself," Hashirama clarified, "but to remember that real connections matter. In the game we play, it's easy to see people as merely pieces on a board. That perspective is useful but dangerous. Your capacity for genuine attachment—even when it complicates our plans—may ultimately be your greatest strength."

The words settled over Naruto like a warm cloak, easing the tightness in his chest. He bowed once more to his secret sensei, then disappeared into the pre-dawn forest, making his way back to a village that still didn't truly see him.

But someday they would. Someday, when Hashirama's grand design reached fruition, the whole world would see Naruto Uzumaki for who he truly was.

Not just the Nine-Tails jinchūriki. Not just the dead last of the Academy. Not even just the secret apprentice of the legendary First Hokage.

But something new entirely—a shinobi who would change everything.

---

The Academy classroom buzzed with excitement as newly graduated genin awaited team assignments. Naruto sat at his usual spot, the shiny Leaf headband prominently displayed on his forehead. He maintained his boisterous persona, loudly proclaiming his accomplishment to anyone who would listen, while inwardly preparing for the next phase of Hashirama's plan.

Across the room, Sasuke Uchiha sat in characteristic silence, ignoring the admiring glances from female classmates. Sakura and Ino bickered over who would sit beside him, their rivalry providing convenient cover for Naruto to observe the last Uchiha unnoticed.

"The Uchiha are complicated," Hashirama had told him during one of their early training sessions. "Powerful, brilliant, but prone to emotional extremes that can lead to darkness. Sasuke carries not only his clan's legacy but the trauma of their massacre. Watch him, learn from him, but never underestimate the depth of his pain."

When Iruka finally announced the team assignments, Naruto played his part perfectly—feigning outrage at being placed with his "rival" Sasuke, while secretly noting how perfectly events aligned with Hashirama's prediction.

"Team 7," Iruka had declared, "will consist of Naruto Uzumaki, Sakura Haruno, and Sasuke Uchiha, under the leadership of Kakashi Hatake."

The pieces were in place. The game had advanced to its next stage.

Hours later, after Kakashi's deliberately late arrival and minimal introduction, Naruto lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, reviewing the day's events. Their new jōnin instructor had revealed little beyond his name, offering no insights into his abilities or expectations. But Hashirama had prepared Naruto with detailed information about the Copy Ninja's background, fighting style, and psychological profile.

"Kakashi of the Sharingan," Hashirama had explained. "A prodigy who bears a transplanted Uchiha eye. Former ANBU, student of the Fourth Hokage, master of a thousand jutsu. Habitually late, seemingly casual, but constantly observing. Of all the jōnin in the village, he is perhaps the most dangerous to our plans—and potentially the most valuable ally, if the time comes to reveal the truth."

The complexity of navigating these relationships while maintaining his cover made Naruto's head spin. He formed the hand signs for the secure communication jutsu Hashirama had taught him, sending his daily report through the small plant on his windowsill.

Team formed as predicted. Kakashi showed only surface personality. Testing tomorrow.

The response came minutes later, plant leaves rustling as they absorbed Hashirama's message:

Bell test coming. Cooperation key. Show improvement but maintain cover. Observe Sasuke closely.

Naruto extinguished his lamp and lay in darkness, mentally preparing for tomorrow's challenge. The infamous bell test—another aspect of Konoha's training that Hashirama had revealed to him in advance.

Sleep eluded him as his mind churned with strategies, contingencies, and the ever-present pressure of his dual identity. The excitement of finally becoming a genin warred with the weight of secrets he carried.

This is just the beginning, he reminded himself. The first move in a much longer game.

Outside his window, the moon rose over Konoha, casting silver light across the faces of the Hokage Monument. Four faces carved in stone, watching over the village.

Someday, if Hashirama's plans came to fruition, everything those faces represented would change. The very foundation of the shinobi world would be transformed.

And Naruto Uzumaki—the dead last, the Nine-Tails jinchūriki, the Fox's Apprentice—would stand at the center of that transformation.

He closed his eyes, allowing a small, secret smile to play across his lips. Let them underestimate him. Let them dismiss him as the class clown, the troublemaker, the hopeless case.

The time would come when the mask would fall away. And when it did, the world would never be the same.

# WHAT IF HASHIRAMA SENJU NEVER DIES AND NARUTO SECRETLY WORKS FOR HIM

## CHAPTER 3: TEAM SEVEN'S SHADOW MEMBER

Dawn painted the horizon in slashes of crimson and gold, illuminating the three silent figures at the bridge. Sasuke leaned against the railing, arms crossed, obsidian eyes fixed on some distant point. Sakura hovered nearby, stealing glances at the Uchiha while pretending to adjust her headband. And Naruto—perched on the bridge's edge with his legs dangling over the water—maintained his mask of restless impatience while his mind catalogued every detail around him.

Three hours they'd been waiting. Three hours since the appointed meeting time, yet their jōnin instructor was nowhere to be seen.

"He's late AGAIN!" Naruto finally exploded, the outburst calculated to maintain his reputation while breaking the silence. "This is the third time this week!"

Sakura shot him an irritated glance, pink hair whipping around her face. "We know that, Naruto! Shouting about it doesn't help!"

"Maybe he fell in a hole," Naruto suggested, grinning widely. "Or got attacked by enemy ninja! Or—"

"He's testing our patience," Sasuke cut in, voice cool and precise as a steel blade. "And you're failing."

The barb stung more than Naruto let show. He puffed his cheeks out in exaggerated annoyance while inwardly noting Sasuke's insight. Kakashi's perpetual lateness was a test—one of many the Copy Ninja constantly subjected them to. Tests of patience, teamwork, perception, and adaptability, wrapped in a façade of casual indifference.

Exactly as Hashirama had warned him.

"I'm going to set up a trap for him," Naruto declared, leaping to his feet. "A bucket of water over the path—"

"Don't be stupid," Sasuke scoffed. "He's a jōnin. You think a genin-level prank would work on him?"

Naruto opened his mouth to retort when a swirl of leaves announced their sensei's arrival. Kakashi appeared in a crouch on the bridge railing, his single visible eye curved in what might have been a smile beneath his mask.

"Sorry I'm late," he drawled. "A black cat crossed my path, so I had to take the long way around."

"LIAR!" Naruto and Sakura shouted in unison.

Kakashi's eye swept over the three of them, and Naruto felt the subtle, probing assessment beneath the jōnin's laid-back demeanor. Those seemingly lazy glances missed nothing. The silver-haired ninja was like a scalpel disguised as a butter knife—deceptively deadly.

"We have a mission today," Kakashi announced, dropping to the bridge and pulling out a scroll. "D-rank. The Fire Daimyo's wife lost her cat again."

Naruto groaned loudly, making a show of collapsing dramatically onto the bridge planks. "Not Tora! That cat is evil!"

"Consider it training," Kakashi replied blandly, tucking the scroll away. "If you can't catch a housecat, how do you expect to catch enemy ninja?"

As they set off toward the Hokage Tower for their official briefing, Naruto fell into step beside Kakashi, deliberately creating an opportunity to speak with the jōnin alone while Sasuke and Sakura walked ahead.

"Hey, Kakashi-sensei," he began, injecting his voice with just the right amount of hopeful enthusiasm, "after we catch the stupid cat, can you teach me a cool jutsu? Something awesome with explosions or—"

"Naruto," Kakashi interrupted without looking up from the small orange book in his hand, "do you know why genin teams spend weeks or even months on D-rank missions before moving to C-rank?"

Naruto blinked, the question catching him off guard. "Because... the village makes more money that way?"

Kakashi's single visible eye crinkled slightly. "It's about building fundamentals. Learning to work as a unit. Developing the discipline to handle tedious tasks with the same focus you'd give to life-or-death combat." He turned a page in his book. "When I see that you three can function as a team instead of three individuals occupying the same space, then we'll discuss 'cool jutsu.'"

The feedback was unexpectedly insightful, reminding Naruto why Hashirama had identified Kakashi as both a potential threat and a valuable mentor. The jōnin saw more than he revealed—much more.

"We're totally a team!" Naruto protested, maintaining his persona. "We just need a better mission to prove it!"

Kakashi's eye flicked toward him briefly. "Be careful what you wish for, Naruto."

The words held an odd weight, almost like a premonition.

---

Tora the cat was a blur of brown fur and fury, darting through the underbrush of Training Ground Seven with three genin in frantic pursuit. Naruto crashed through the bushes, deliberately making enough noise to flush the cat toward the position where Sasuke waited in ambush.

"Heading your way, Sasuke!" he shouted, louder than necessary. "Don't miss!"

The Uchiha's face tightened at the implied challenge. Exactly as Naruto had intended. A subtle manipulation—using Sasuke's pride to ensure his full commitment to the task.

Hashirama's lessons in human psychology were proving unexpectedly useful for team dynamics.

The cat burst from the foliage, hissing and spitting. Sasuke lunged with impressive speed, but Tora twisted in mid-air, claws slashing across the boy's hand before disappearing into another clump of bushes.

"Dammit!" Sasuke cursed, examining the bloody scratches on his palm.

"You missed!" Naruto crowed, secretly pleased that his gambit had worked—albeit painfully for his teammate. "I thought you were supposed to be the best!"

"Shut up, loser," Sasuke snarled, eyes flashing. "At least I got close. You're just charging around like a wild boar."

Sakura emerged from the trees, breathless. "Did you see where it went?"

"That way," Naruto pointed, then formed his hands into a cross sign. "I'll catch it this time! Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

A dozen identical Narutos popped into existence, each grinning widely. Kakashi, observing from a tree branch above, raised an eyebrow at the technique but said nothing.

"Find that cat!" Naruto commanded his clones, who scattered in all directions.

Sasuke's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of something—surprise? resentment?—crossing his face. The Shadow Clone Jutsu was well beyond Academy level, and Naruto could see the calculations running behind those dark eyes. How had the dead last mastered such a technique?

Let him wonder, Naruto thought. Just enough improvement to raise questions, not enough to blow my cover.

It took another hour of chasing, during which Naruto deliberately fell into a stream and emerged dripping and cursing loudly, before they finally cornered Tora. Sakura distracted the cat while Sasuke and Naruto closed in from opposite sides. The cat hissed, trapped between them.

"Now!" Sasuke called.

They lunged simultaneously. Naruto intentionally misjudged his dive, colliding with Sasuke mid-air and sending both boys tumbling to the ground while Tora darted toward freedom—only to be scooped up by Sakura, who'd anticipated the cat's escape route.

"I got her!" Sakura announced triumphantly, struggling to contain the writhing feline.

On the ground, Sasuke shoved Naruto off with a growl. "You idiot! We almost had it!"

"Me?! You got in my way!" Naruto shot back, internally wincing at the deliberate sabotage. Sometimes maintaining his cover felt uncomfortably close to bullying his own teammates.

Kakashi appeared beside them in a swirl of leaves, his orange book nowhere in sight. "Interesting strategy," he commented dryly. "Though I'm not sure 'genin collision jutsu' is recognized in any village."

Sasuke rose, brushing dirt from his clothes with sharp, angry movements. Naruto scrambled up as well, making a show of pointing accusingly at the Uchiha while Sakura approached with the subdued but still-glaring Tora.

"Mission complete," Kakashi announced. "Let's return to the Tower."

As they walked, Naruto subtly studied his teammates. Sasuke's irritation was evident in the tense set of his shoulders, while Sakura beamed with pride at her success in capturing the target. And Kakashi... the jōnin maintained his air of bored indifference, but Naruto caught the occasional assessing glance directed their way.

He's gathering data, Naruto realized. Testing our limits, our personalities, our breaking points. Just like Hashirama does with me.

The parallel was unsettling.

---

"Absolutely not!" Naruto shouted, pounding his fist on the mission assignment desk. "No more stupid D-rank missions! We're real ninja now—we need a real mission!"

The Third Hokage looked up from his paperwork, pipe smoke wreathing his weathered face. Iruka, seated beside him, wore an expression of scandalized disbelief at Naruto's outburst.

"Naruto!" Iruka admonished. "You can't speak to the Hokage that way! You're just genin, and genin perform D-rank missions until their sensei deems them ready for more challenging assignments."

Naruto crossed his arms defiantly, aware that every eye in the room was on him. Sakura looked mortified, Sasuke maintained his aloof expression though his interest was evident in the subtle shift of his posture, and Kakashi... Kakashi was watching the exchange with unexpected intensity.

This moment was crucial—the pivot point Hashirama had prepared him for.

"The Land of Waves mission is essential," his true sensei had instructed the night before. "Zabuza Momochi has connections to mercenary networks that ultimately lead to Akatsuki. Information from this mission will be invaluable. Make sure your team is assigned to escort Tazuna the bridge builder."

How Hashirama knew these mission details in advance, Naruto hadn't asked. The First Hokage's intelligence network remained largely mysterious to him, glimpsed only in fragments through the assignments he received.

"Naruto has a point," Kakashi interjected, surprising everyone in the room. "They've completed the required number of D-rank missions, and a C-rank might provide valuable experience."

The Hokage puffed on his pipe, regarding Team 7 thoughtfully. "Very well. I happen to have a C-rank mission that might suit your team." He shuffled through the scrolls on his desk. "An escort assignment to the Land of Waves."

Naruto pumped his fist in exaggerated victory. "Yes! A real mission!"

Iruka looked like he wanted to protest further but held his tongue as the Hokage signaled for the client to enter. The door slid open to reveal an older man with gray hair and a weathered face, clutching a bottle of sake. His eyes, bloodshot and suspicious, surveyed Team 7 with evident disappointment.

"These are the ninja protecting me?" he slurred. "They're just a bunch of kids! Especially the short one with the stupid face."

Naruto bristled authentically—some reactions didn't require acting. "Who's the short one with the stupid face?!"

Kakashi placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "It's generally frowned upon to attack the client, Naruto."

The bridge builder took another swig from his bottle. "I am Tazuna, master bridge builder. I expect you to protect me with your lives while I complete my bridge back in the Land of Waves."

As the details of the mission were explained, Naruto maintained his excited demeanor while mentally reviewing Hashirama's instructions. The mission parameters seemed straightforward—escort Tazuna safely home, protect him until the bridge was completed—but Hashirama had hinted at complications that would arise. Complications involving rogue ninja and, ultimately, valuable intelligence.

"We leave at dawn tomorrow," Kakashi announced once the briefing concluded. "Pack for at least two weeks. And remember—" his eye swept over the three genin, "—this is your first mission outside the village. Stay alert. Stay together. Follow orders."

The subtle emphasis on that last directive wasn't lost on Naruto. As the team dispersed to prepare, he felt the familiar weight of his dual loyalties settling over him. Follow Kakashi's orders or Hashirama's? The overlap had been convenient so far, but what would happen when those paths diverged?

The answer would come sooner than he expected.

---

Night had fallen by the time Naruto slipped away to his meeting with Hashirama. The forest clearing lay shrouded in shadows, moonlight filtering through the canopy in dappled patterns across the ground. He arrived to find the First Hokage already waiting, his imposing figure seated cross-legged at the center of the clearing.

Naruto dropped to one knee, bowing his head in the formal greeting they'd established. "Lord First."

"Rise, Naruto." Hashirama's voice carried the weight of decades, of power held in careful check. "Tell me of your team assignment."

"Everything happened as you predicted," Naruto reported, straightening. "We've been assigned to escort Tazuna to the Land of Waves. We leave tomorrow at dawn."

Hashirama nodded, satisfaction evident in his expression. "Good. This mission is more significant than it appears. The bridge builder is being targeted by Gato, a shipping magnate with ties to various criminal organizations—including those that will eventually form Akatsuki."

"The missing-nin you've been tracking?" Naruto asked, recalling Hashirama's occasional mentions of this mysterious group.

"Yes. A collection of S-rank criminals with an agenda that poses a grave threat to the shinobi world." Hashirama rose, moonlight catching the hard planes of his face. "You will encounter two ninja on this mission who possess valuable information—Zabuza Momochi and his accomplice, Haku."

He began to pace, hands clasped behind his back. "Zabuza is a former member of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, now working as a mercenary. He has taken contracts from organizations connected to Akatsuki. His intelligence on their movements, contacts, and methods will be invaluable."

"And you want me to... what? Interrogate him?" Naruto asked, uncertain how a genin was supposed to extract information from a jōnin-level missing-nin.

Hashirama's lips curved in a slight smile. "Nothing so direct. During your inevitable confrontation, listen carefully. Observe. And most importantly, when the opportunity arises to speak with his accomplice Haku—a young shinobi with a unique Ice Release kekkei genkai—forge a connection. Haku possesses a gentle heart beneath his deadly skills. He will respond to your empathy."

Naruto absorbed these instructions, mind racing with the implications. "What about Kakashi-sensei? He watches me constantly. If I start asking strange questions—"

"Kakashi Hatake is both your greatest asset and most significant threat on this mission," Hashirama interrupted. "His combat prowess will be essential against Zabuza, but his perceptiveness makes your information gathering risky." He fixed Naruto with an intense gaze. "You must be subtle. Use your established persona to your advantage—the curious, talkative genin asking seemingly innocent questions."

"And Sasuke and Sakura?"

"The Uchiha requires careful handling," Hashirama's expression grew more serious. "His potential is immense, but so is his capacity for darkness. Observe him in real combat conditions. Note his reactions, his decisions under pressure. This information will help shape our long-term strategy regarding him."

The way Hashirama spoke of Sasuke—like a valuable but volatile resource to be managed—sent an uncomfortable prickle down Naruto's spine. Over the past weeks, despite his mission to monitor the Uchiha, he'd found himself genuinely enjoying their competitive dynamic. Behind Sasuke's cold exterior lay a determination that mirrored Naruto's own.

"There's one more thing," Hashirama added, withdrawing a small, wooden capsule from his robes. "A specialized storage seal. If the opportunity arises, collect a sample of Haku's blood or tissue. His kekkei genkai merits study."

Naruto accepted the capsule, the weight of it surprisingly heavy in his palm. "You want me to take his blood? Without him knowing?"

"Only if circumstances permit," Hashirama clarified. "The intelligence is your primary objective. This is secondary."

Something must have shown in Naruto's expression, for Hashirama's features softened slightly. "I understand these requests may seem morally ambiguous, Naruto. But remember—we work toward a greater purpose. The reformation of a system that has perpetuated conflict and suffering across generations."

The grand vision Hashirama had shared with him over months of training—a complete restructuring of the shinobi world, eliminating the secretive village system that bred mistrust and warfare in favor of a unified, transparent alliance. A beautiful dream, but the methods to achieve it sometimes left Naruto uneasy.

"I understand," he said finally, tucking the capsule into his equipment pouch.

"Good." Hashirama formed a hand sign, and the clearing around them shifted, earth and vegetation rearranging into a rough approximation of a coastal landscape. "Now, let us prepare for the combat you'll face. The terrain around the Land of Waves will be unfamiliar to you..."

For the next hour, they drilled scenarios and strategies, Hashirama creating various environmental challenges using his Wood Style. By the time they finished, Naruto's clothes clung to him with sweat despite the cool night air.

"Remember," Hashirama said as their training concluded, "your team believes you have only rudimentary skills and the Shadow Clone Jutsu. Maintain that illusion, even in life-threatening situations if possible. Kakashi will protect you—that is his duty as your jōnin leader."

Naruto nodded, gathering his equipment. As he turned to leave, Hashirama called after him one final time.

"Naruto."

He looked back, finding the First Hokage's expression uncharacteristically hesitant.

"If forced to choose between maintaining your cover and protecting your teammates... choose them." Hashirama's eyes held an unusual warmth. "Bonds of loyalty, once broken, are nearly impossible to repair. We can adjust our plans; we cannot replace trust."

The instruction surprised Naruto, seeming at odds with the calculated nature of their usual operations. He bowed slightly. "Yes, Lord First."

As he made his way back to the village under the cover of darkness, Naruto's mind churned with preparations, contingencies, and a growing sense of anticipation. His first real mission. His first opportunity to prove his value to Hashirama beyond simple training and observation.

Yet beneath the strategic calculations lay a simpler emotion: excitement. Despite everything, he was still a twelve-year-old boy about to embark on his first adventure beyond the village gates. And that part of him—the part not shaped by Hashirama's grand designs—could barely wait for dawn to break.

---

"This is so AWESOME!" Naruto shouted, spinning in a circle at the village gates, arms spread wide. "I've never been outside Konoha before!"

Sakura rolled her eyes, adjusting the straps of her pack. "It's just a standard escort mission, Naruto. Try to maintain some dignity as a ninja."

"Let him enjoy it," Kakashi said mildly, not looking up from his book. "First missions outside the village are memorable."

Tazuna stood nearby, looking considerably more sober than during their first meeting, though anxiety still creased his features. "Are you sure these kids can protect me?" he asked Kakashi. "The short one seems particularly... enthusiastic."

"I'm a jōnin," Kakashi replied. "And despite appearances, my team is quite capable."

Sasuke said nothing, but his dark eyes scanned the road ahead, already alert for potential threats. Naruto noted the subtle tension in the Uchiha's posture—beneath his cool exterior, Sasuke was as eager as Naruto to prove himself.

They set out along the dusty road leading away from Konoha, Naruto deliberately taking point position, chattering excitedly about bandits and adventure. The constant stream of commentary served two purposes: maintaining his energetic persona and allowing him to scan their surroundings without appearing vigilant.

The first sign of trouble came several hours into their journey—a puddle on the road despite days without rain. Naruto spotted it immediately, noting Kakashi's almost imperceptible pause as they passed it. The jōnin had seen it too, yet made no move to alert them or change course.

A test, Naruto realized. He's evaluating our observational skills and reaction times.

He considered warning his teammates but decided against it. Revealing his own awareness might raise questions he couldn't answer. Instead, he continued his exuberant act, all while keeping his muscles tensed, ready to react the moment the attack came.

It happened in a blur of motion and killing intent. Two ninja erupted from the puddle, metal chains whipping between them. They ensnared Kakashi, who had no time to react before the chains tightened, apparently shredding him into bloody pieces.

"One down," one of the attackers snarled.

Sakura screamed. Tazuna froze in horror. And Naruto—Naruto hesitated for a crucial second, torn between maintaining his cover and revealing his true abilities.

That moment of indecision nearly cost him as one of the attackers appeared behind him, metal gauntlet raised to strike. "Two down," the ninja hissed.

Before the blow could land, a blur of blue and white intercepted the attacker. Sasuke, moving with impressive speed, drove a kunai through the chain connecting the two ninja, pinning it to a tree. A flying kick to the attacker's face followed, sending the ninja stumbling backward.

The second attacker disengaged the chain and charged toward Tazuna, where Sakura had taken a defensive position, kunai trembling in her hands.

Now or never, Naruto thought, abandoning his frozen act. He formed the hand sign for Shadow Clone Jutsu, creating five duplicates that rushed to intercept the charging ninja.

The clones never reached their target. Kakashi appeared as if from nowhere, catching the attacking ninja in a crushing headlock. The jōnin's eye curved in a deceptively friendly smile. "Sorry I'm late."

Relief flooded through Naruto, followed immediately by understanding. Kakashi had used the Substitution Jutsu to escape, then watched to see how his team would handle the threat.

"Naruto," Kakashi called, noting the clones still surrounding them, "good use of Shadow Clones, but your initial reaction time needs work. You froze."

The criticism stung, particularly because it was valid. Naruto had hesitated, caught between his dual identities.

"Sasuke, excellent situational awareness and reaction," Kakashi continued. "Sakura, good protective positioning with the client."

The jōnin turned his attention to their attackers—the Demon Brothers, missing-nin from the Hidden Mist. After securing them to a tree, he fixed Tazuna with a penetrating stare. "These aren't random bandits. They're trained assassins, specifically targeting you." His voice hardened. "This is at least a B-rank mission, possibly higher. Care to explain why you misrepresented the danger?"

As Tazuna reluctantly revealed the truth—about Gato, the shipping magnate who had a stranglehold on the Land of Waves, and the bridge that threatened his control—Naruto listened intently, filing away every detail. The information aligned perfectly with what Hashirama had told him, confirming once again the First Hokage's uncanny intelligence network.

"We should go back," Sakura suggested when Tazuna finished his explanation. "This mission is beyond our capabilities as genin."

"Perhaps," Kakashi agreed, turning to his team. "This is significantly more dangerous than what you signed up for. We should make the decision as a team."

Naruto immediately seized the opportunity. "I say we continue! We can't abandon Tazuna and his people to Gato!"

"It's not that simple," Kakashi cautioned. "The next ninja sent after Tazuna won't be chūnin like the Demon Brothers. We'll likely face jōnin-level opponents."

"All the more reason to continue," Sasuke said quietly, his eyes glinting with determination. "This is a chance to test our abilities against real threats."

Sakura looked torn, glancing between Sasuke and Kakashi before nodding hesitantly. "If Sasuke thinks we can handle it... I'm in too."

Kakashi studied them for a long moment, his expression unreadable behind his mask. "Very well. We continue to the Land of Waves." His eye hardened. "But from now on, we proceed with extreme caution. Stay close, follow my instructions immediately and without question. Understood?"

"Yes, sensei!" they chorused.

As they resumed their journey, Naruto walked alongside Sasuke, genuinely curious about something. "How did you react so quickly back there? I barely saw those ninja appear before you were fighting them."

Sasuke glanced at him, surprise flickering briefly across his features at the earnest question. "I observed the puddle before we reached it. No rain for days makes standing water suspicious." He shrugged slightly. "Basic situational awareness."

"That's... actually pretty smart," Naruto admitted, dropping his boisterous persona for a moment.

The corner of Sasuke's mouth twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Try paying attention to your surroundings instead of shouting about how great you are. You might learn something."

The remark lacked its usual bite, almost sounding like... friendly advice? Naruto blinked, momentarily thrown by this shift in their dynamic.

"Yeah, well..." he fumbled for his usual retort, but found himself saying instead, "Thanks for jumping in back there. You saved me."

Sasuke looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the gratitude. "We're a team," he said simply, as if that explained everything.

The words settled warmly in Naruto's chest, alongside a growing knot of unease. With every step toward the Land of Waves, his mission for Hashirama and his duty to Team 7 seemed to be pulling in increasingly different directions.

Which loyalty would prevail when those paths finally diverged?

---

Mist rolled in thick, ghostly tendrils across the water as their small boat glided silently toward the shores of the Land of Waves. The boatman had killed the engine, using a pole to propel them forward without sound. Visibility extended barely ten feet in any direction, the world beyond lost in swirling white.

"There it is," the boatman whispered, pointing ahead.

A massive shadow loomed through the fog—the half-constructed bridge stretching from the mainland toward the island nation. Even unfinished, its scale was impressive, arching high above the water's surface.

"It's huge!" Naruto exclaimed, then winced as multiple hands clamped over his mouth.

"Quiet, idiot," Sasuke hissed. "The whole point of the engine-off approach is stealth."

Naruto nodded sheepishly as the hands withdrew. The rest of their journey passed in tense silence, the only sounds the gentle lapping of water against the boat's hull and the distant cry of seabirds.

When they finally reached shore, disembarking on a small, deserted dock, the boatman immediately pushed off again, disappearing into the mist with a final warning to be careful. The group set out along a coastal path toward Tazuna's village, Kakashi taking point with the bridge builder while the three genin formed a protective perimeter.

The mist thinned as they moved inland, sunlight breaking through in weak, watery beams. Naruto's senses remained on high alert, attuned to the unfamiliar environment. Something rustled in the bushes beside the path. He reacted instantly, hurling a kunai toward the sound.

"Naruto!" Sakura scolded as he rushed to investigate. "Stop trying to show off!"

Behind the bush, a white rabbit cowered, the kunai embedded in the tree trunk inches above its head. Naruto scooped up the trembling animal, genuine remorse washing over him. "I'm sorry, little guy! I thought you were an enemy ninja!"

"A white rabbit?" Kakashi murmured, suddenly alert. "In this season?"

Naruto caught the significance immediately, though he pretended not to. A white coat in spring meant this rabbit had been raised indoors, away from sunlight. A substitution target.

"GET DOWN!" Kakashi shouted.

Naruto dropped flat, pulling Tazuna with him as a massive blade whirled through the air where their heads had been moments before. The sword embedded itself in a tree trunk with a solid thunk, and a figure appeared standing atop its hilt—a tall, muscular man with bandages covering the lower half of his face and a slashed Mist headband tilted sideways on his head.

"Zabuza Momochi," Kakashi said evenly, rising to his feet. "Demon of the Hidden Mist."

"Kakashi of the Sharingan," the missing-nin replied, voice a gravelly rumble. "No wonder the Demon Brothers failed. The Copy Ninja himself, escorting a simple bridge builder." His eyes, cold as winter frost, flicked to the three genin. "And with such... interesting companions."

Kakashi moved his headband up, revealing his left eye—crimson with three black tomoe swirling within the iris. The Sharingan. "Protect Tazuna," he ordered without looking back. "Manji formation. This one's on a different level."

Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura moved into position around the bridge builder, kunai drawn. Naruto's mind raced with Hashirama's instructions regarding Zabuza, but the killing intent radiating from the missing-nin made it hard to think clearly.

"The Sharingan already? I'm honored," Zabuza chuckled darkly, forming hand signs. "Let's see how it fares against the Hidden Mist Jutsu."

Thick fog rolled in, obscuring everything beyond a few feet. Zabuza's voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Eight points: larynx, spine, lungs, liver, jugular, subclavian artery, kidneys, heart. Which vital spot should I choose?"

The killing intent intensified, crushing down on them like a physical weight. Beside Naruto, Sasuke trembled, kunai wavering in his grip. The Uchiha's breathing grew rapid, shallow, his eyes wide with a fear that bordered on panic.

He's going to break, Naruto realized with alarm. Despite their mission to gather intelligence, despite Hashirama's emphasis on maintaining cover, he couldn't let his teammate shatter.

"Sasuke," he whispered urgently, "breathe. We've got this. Kakashi-sensei won't let us down, and neither will I."

The Uchiha's eyes snapped to him, momentarily shocked out of his spiral by Naruto's unexpected reassurance.

"He's right," Kakashi called from somewhere in the mist. "I won't allow my comrades to die. Trust me."

The brief moment of connection shattered as Zabuza appeared suddenly in the center of their formation, sword arcing down toward Tazuna. "Too late," he growled.

Kakashi materialized between them, blocking the massive blade with a kunai. Metal screeched against metal as the two jōnin strained against each other, then separated in a blur of movement too fast for the genin to follow.

What followed was a lethal dance of water clones, substitutions, and devastating ninjutsu that left Naruto in awe despite his advanced training with Hashirama. Kakashi and Zabuza were operating on a level that made even the First Hokage's carefully controlled training sessions seem tame by comparison.

The fight culminated at the edge of a lake, where Zabuza trapped Kakashi in a sphere of water, immobilizing the Copy Ninja while creating a water clone to deal with the genin and their client.

"Run!" Kakashi shouted from within his prison. "The clone can't go far from the original. Get Tazuna away from here!"

"No way," Naruto replied, forming his signature hand sign. "We're not abandoning you, Kakashi-sensei!"

Dozens of shadow clones burst into existence, surrounding the water clone of Zabuza. They charged in waves, each lasting only seconds against the missing-nin's brutal swordsmanship but creating the distraction Naruto needed.

"Sasuke!" he called, tossing a massive shuriken to the Uchiha. "Catch!"

Understanding flashed between them, a momentary perfect synchronization as Sasuke launched the shuriken past the water clone, directly at the real Zabuza. The missing-nin caught it one-handed, only to find a second shuriken in its shadow.

"A shadow shuriken technique," Zabuza scoffed, leaping over the second projectile. "Too obvious—"

The second shuriken transformed mid-air with a puff of smoke, revealing Naruto—the real Naruto—who had transformed himself and hidden within the attack. He hurled a kunai at Zabuza's outstretched arm, forcing the missing-nin to release the water prison or lose his limb.

Kakashi burst free as water splashed down around them. "Clever teamwork," he acknowledged, water streaming from his sodden uniform. "Now get back and let me handle this."

The battle resumed with renewed intensity, Kakashi now mirroring Zabuza's techniques with his Sharingan, predicting and countering each move until the missing-nin was driven back, disoriented and increasingly desperate.

Just as Kakashi prepared his final attack, senbon needles whistled through the air, striking Zabuza in the neck. The massive ninja collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.

A slender figure in a distinctive mask appeared on a nearby branch—an ANBU hunter-nin from the Hidden Mist, according to the markings.

"Thank you for your assistance," the masked ninja said, voice soft and oddly melodic. "I've been tracking Zabuza for weeks."

"A Mist hunter-nin," Kakashi confirmed, covering his Sharingan once more. "Here to collect the bounty?"

"To eliminate all traces of his body, as is protocol," the hunter-nin replied, leaping down beside Zabuza's still form. "The secrets of the Hidden Mist must not fall into enemy hands."

Naruto studied the newcomer intently. Young, perhaps only a few years older than himself, with a build too slight for a boy yet a voice too deep for most girls. The mask—white with red swirls—concealed all features, but something in the ninja's graceful movements triggered Naruto's memory.

This must be Haku, he realized. Zabuza's accomplice, not a real hunter-nin.

The deception was clever. By posing as an official hunter-nin, Haku could remove Zabuza without further conflict, allowing the missing-nin to recover from what were likely non-fatal senbon strikes.

Naruto opened his mouth, prepared to expose the ruse, when Hashirama's instructions echoed in his mind: "Forge a connection with Haku. His intelligence will be invaluable."

Revealing the deception now would force an immediate confrontation—one they might not win with Kakashi already exhausted from his battle.

So instead, Naruto asked innocently, "Aren't you going to eliminate the body here? That's what hunter-nin do, right?"

The masked figure stiffened almost imperceptibly. "The body contains many secrets. I must examine it thoroughly in a secure location."

"But—" Naruto began, only to be cut off by Kakashi's hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you for your assistance," the jōnin said to the hunter-nin, though his eye had narrowed slightly. "We'll continue our mission."

Haku bowed slightly, then vanished in a swirl of wind and leaves, taking Zabuza's body with them.

As soon as they disappeared, Kakashi swayed on his feet. "We need to get to Tazuna's house," he managed before collapsing face-first onto the ground.

"Kakashi-sensei!" Sakura cried, rushing to his side.

"Chakra exhaustion," Sasuke diagnosed, helping Naruto lift their unconscious teacher. "The Sharingan drains him quickly since he's not an Uchiha."

Together, they carried Kakashi the remaining distance to Tazuna's home, where his daughter Tsunami welcomed them with concern and rapidly prepared a room for the exhausted jōnin.

Hours later, with Kakashi resting and the others gathered around Tazuna's dinner table, Naruto found a moment to slip outside alone. The night air carried the scent of salt from the nearby ocean, a cool breeze rustling through the trees surrounding the modest house.

Using the specialized communication jutsu Hashirama had taught him, Naruto sent a message through the surrounding plant life:

Zabuza alive. Hunter-nin is accomplice. Kakashi injured but stable. Awaiting instructions.

The response came minutes later, vegetation trembling as it absorbed and conveyed Hashirama's reply:

Expected outcome. Kakashi will realize deception soon. When confrontation resumes, focus on Haku. Seek private interaction if possible. Priority: mercenary network information.

Naruto acknowledged the orders, then leaned against the porch railing, gazing out at the starlit bay. The half-built bridge was visible in the distance, a dark silhouette against the water's silver sheen.

Behind him, the door slid open. "What are you doing out here, loser?" Sasuke asked, though the insult lacked its usual edge.

"Just thinking," Naruto replied honestly.

Sasuke joined him at the railing, dark eyes reflecting the distant stars. "About the fight?"

"Yeah. We were... outclassed." Naruto admitted, the humility not entirely feigned. Despite his secret training with Hashirama, the gap between genin and jōnin had been starkly illustrated today.

"For now," Sasuke said quietly, a steel-edged determination in his voice. "But we'll get stronger. We have to."

The simple statement carried the weight of Sasuke's entire existence—his drive to avenge his clan, to kill his brother Itachi. Naruto knew the story, both the public version and the darker truths Hashirama had shared with him about the Uchiha massacre.

"We will," Naruto agreed, surprising himself with the genuine conviction in his voice. "Together."

Sasuke glanced at him, startled by the sincerity. For a brief moment, something like understanding passed between them—a recognition of shared determination, if not shared goals.

Then the moment passed, and Sasuke's expression returned to its usual stoic mask. "Kakashi's awake. He wants to talk to us about training before Zabuza recovers."

As they headed back inside, Naruto felt the knot of conflicting loyalties tighten in his chest. The more genuine his connections with Team 7 became, the more difficult his secret mission for Hashirama grew.

Choose them over your cover, Hashirama had said. But what happened when choosing his team meant betraying Hashirama's trust? What happened when the shadow member had to step into the light?

---

The week that followed established a new routine. Mornings were spent training under Kakashi's guidance—learning to climb trees using only chakra control, a skill Naruto had mastered months ago with Hashirama but now pretended to struggle with. Afternoons were dedicated to guarding Tazuna at the bridge construction site, watching as the massive structure slowly extended further across the bay.

Naruto deliberately maintained his appearance of having the worst chakra control on the team, falling repeatedly from his assigned tree while Sakura quickly mastered the exercise and Sasuke made steady progress. The deception chafed, particularly when Sakura offered him genuine advice that he had to pretend was revolutionary.

On the third day, with Sasuke still training and Sakura accompanying Tazuna to the bridge, Naruto ventured alone into the forest, ostensibly to gather herbs for Tsunami's cooking but actually to conduct reconnaissance as Hashirama had instructed.

The clearing he found was dappled with morning sunlight, a variety of plants growing in the rich soil. As he knelt to examine them, a soft voice spoke from behind him.

"Those aren't the medicinal herbs you're looking for."

Naruto turned to find a slender figure in a pink kimono watching him from the edge of the clearing. Long, dark hair framed delicate features that could have belonged to either gender, though Naruto immediately recognized the voice—softer without the hunter-nin mask, but unmistakably belonging to Zabuza's accomplice.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, maintaining his naive persona. "Are you gathering plants too?"

"Yes," Haku replied, approaching with graceful steps. "For medicine. Your friend appeared injured after the fight."

Naruto tensed internally but kept his expression open and friendly. "Kakashi-sensei's getting better! He'll be up and around in no time."

"I see." Haku knelt beside him, pointing to a particular plant. "These are what you want for pain relief. And these—" indicating another growth, "—help with chakra recovery."

Naruto studied the plants with genuine interest. Hashirama had taught him some basic herbology, but his knowledge wasn't comprehensive. "Thanks! I'm Naruto, by the way. What's your name?"

"Haku." A gentle smile curved the ninja's lips. "Tell me, Naruto, do you have someone precious to you?"

The question caught him off guard. "Precious?"

"Someone you would do anything to protect. Someone who gives your life meaning." Haku's eyes grew distant. "When a person has something precious to protect, that is when they become truly strong."

The words resonated unexpectedly deep within Naruto. Did he have someone precious? His teammates, certainly, though those bonds were still new, still forming. Iruka-sensei, who had acknowledged him when no one else would. And Hashirama... was his relationship with the First Hokage one of precious bonds or calculated utility?

"I think I'm starting to find those people," he answered honestly. "My team. They're becoming... important to me."

Haku nodded, understanding in those deep brown eyes. "Then you will become strong, Naruto. Perhaps very strong indeed." The young ninja rose gracefully. "We will meet again."

"Wait!" Naruto called, seizing the opportunity Hashirama had prepared him for. "You seem to know a lot about fighting and getting stronger. Have you... traveled much? Met other strong ninja?"

Haku paused, head tilting slightly. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm going to be Hokage someday," Naruto declared, injecting his voice with earnest determination. "I need to learn everything I can about the ninja world, about different fighting styles and organizations."

A shadow passed across Haku's features. "The ninja world is darker than you imagine, Naruto. Organizations exist that would target someone like you for what you contain."

Naruto's breath caught. Did Haku know about the Nine-Tails? "What do you mean?"

"Power attracts those who would use it," Haku replied cryptically. "Zabuza-san once turned down work from such people. A group of missing-nin who wear black cloaks with red clouds. They seek the tailed beasts and those who host them."

The description matched exactly what Hashirama had told him about Akatsuki. This was the intelligence they needed.

"Why would they want the tailed beasts?" Naruto asked, carefully balancing curiosity against revealing too much knowledge.

Haku's eyes narrowed slightly. "You ask very specific questions for a genin from the Leaf."

Naruto backpedaled quickly. "I just hear stories sometimes! About people hunting monsters and stuff. It sounds scary."

The suspicion in Haku's expression faded, replaced by something like pity. "It is scary, Naruto. And you should be cautious. These people are extremely dangerous—S-rank criminals from various villages. They work in pairs, and their leader possesses eyes that see everything."

"Eyes that see everything?" Naruto repeated, genuinely confused.

"The Rinnegan," Haku whispered, as if the word itself might summon its bearer. "The most powerful dōjutsu in existence. Zabuza-san encountered him once, years ago, and still speaks of it with... uncharacteristic fear."

This was new information—something even Hashirama hadn't mentioned. Naruto filed it away carefully, along with everything else Haku was revealing.

"Thank you for warning me," he said sincerely. "I'll be careful."

Haku studied him for a long moment, then smiled sadly. "In another life, we might have been friends, Naruto Uzumaki."

"We still could be!" Naruto insisted, the offer springing from someplace genuine despite his mission objectives. "You don't have to be enemies with us. You could—"

"My place is with Zabuza-san," Haku interrupted gently but firmly. "He saved me when I had nothing. My purpose is to be his weapon, his tool."

"A person isn't a tool," Naruto protested. "You're more than that!"

Something flickered in Haku's eyes—surprise, perhaps, or a wistful acknowledgment. "You are an unusual ninja, Naruto. I hope you don't lose that quality as you grow stronger." The young ninja gathered the collected herbs into a small basket. "Our next meeting won't be as peaceful as this one. Remember what I said about protecting what's precious to you."

With that, Haku departed, disappearing among the trees with barely a sound.

Naruto remained kneeling in the clearing, mind racing with the intelligence he'd gathered and the unexpected connection he'd formed with his supposed enemy. Haku's words about precious people echoed in his thoughts, challenging assumptions he hadn't realized he held.

Was being Hashirama's tool so different from Haku being Zabuza's? Did the nobility of the cause justify the means? These questions had no easy answers, but they planted seeds of doubt that would grow in the days ahead.

For now, though, he had intelligence to report—and a confrontation to prepare for.

---

The mist rolled in thick and impenetrable across the unfinished bridge, transforming the construction site into a ghostly landscape of half-seen shadows and muffled sounds. Team 7 formed a protective perimeter around Tazuna, backs together, weapons drawn.

"He's here," Kakashi said quietly, revealing his Sharingan once more. "And he's not alone."

The killing intent that flooded the bridge was familiar now, but no less terrifying. Zabuza's gravelly laugh echoed from everywhere and nowhere.

"Miss me, Kakashi?" the missing-nin taunted. "I see you brought your little genin to die again."

Water clones materialized from the mist, surrounding them in a ring of deadly intent. Sasuke, trembling not with fear but anticipation, glanced at Kakashi.

"May I?" he asked simply.

Kakashi nodded. "Show me your progress."

What followed left Naruto genuinely impressed. Sasuke moved with blinding speed through the water clones, dispatching each with precise, economical movements. The difference between this confident shinobi and the frightened boy from their first encounter with Zabuza was striking.

"Well, well," Zabuza's voice held a note of grudging respect. "It seems you have one worthy student, Kakashi."

The mist parted slightly to reveal Zabuza standing with Haku beside him, the latter wearing the hunter-nin mask once more.

"I'll handle Zabuza," Kakashi instructed. "Sasuke, Naruto—the masked one is yours. Sakura, guard Tazuna."

"Two against one seems unfair," Haku commented, voice deceptively gentle. "But necessary, I suppose."

"Don't underestimate us!" Naruto shouted, summoning a dozen shadow clones that charged forward.

The battle split into two fronts—Kakashi engaging Zabuza in a rematch of devastating ninjutsu and kenjutsu, while Naruto and Sasuke faced off against Haku's unique ice abilities.

The masked ninja proved faster than either of them, neutralizing Naruto's numerical advantage with precise senbon strikes that dispelled his clones one after another. When Sasuke's fire jutsu forced Haku to retreat, the masked ninja responded with an unexpected technique.

"Secret Jutsu: Crystal Ice Mirrors!"

Water from the mist crystallized into mirrors that surrounded Naruto and Sasuke in a dome-like structure. Haku stepped into one mirror, then appeared to exist in all of them simultaneously.

"This is the end for you," Haku's voice echoed from every direction as senbon needles rained down on them from impossible angles.

Naruto cried out as needles pierced his shoulders and legs, dropping to one knee. Beside him, Sasuke wasn't faring much better, though the Uchiha's reflexes allowed him to deflect more of the assault.

"We need to break the mirrors," Sasuke gasped, blood trickling from multiple puncture wounds. "My fire jutsu isn't hot enough."

"I'll try from the outside!" Naruto called, forming a hand sign. In a puff of smoke, a shadow clone appeared outside the dome, having substituted with the real Naruto before the mirrors fully formed—a strategy he'd prepared based on Hashirama's briefing about Haku's abilities.

The clone charged the mirrors from the exterior, only to be intercepted by Haku, who emerged briefly to neutralize the threat before returning to the ice dome.

Inside, Sasuke's movements were becoming more precise, his eyes tracking Haku's movements with increasing accuracy. Naruto realized with a start that the Uchiha's Sharingan was awakening under the stress of combat, the black pupils transforming into red irises with a single tomoe in each.

"I can see him," Sasuke murmured, amazement coloring his voice. "I can follow his movements now."

The revelation changed the dynamic of the battle. Working together, Naruto and Sasuke began to counter Haku's attacks, the Uchiha's newly awakened Sharingan allowing him to predict the masked ninja's patterns while Naruto's shadow clones created diversions and attacking opportunities.

For a brief, exhilarating moment, it seemed they might overcome Haku's fearsome technique. Then the masked ninja changed tactics, focusing all attacks on Naruto, overwhelming him with a barrage too dense to evade.

What happened next occurred too quickly for Naruto to process in the moment. Senbon flew toward his vital points, a lethal pattern that promised at minimum unconsciousness, at worst death. He braced for impact, calculating whether this was the moment to reveal more of his true abilities—

But the needles never reached him. Sasuke appeared in their path, using his own body as a shield. Dozens of senbon embedded themselves in the Uchiha's back and neck as he collapsed forward into Naruto's arms.

"Why?" Naruto gasped, genuine shock overwhelming his tactical awareness. "Why would you protect me?"

Blood trickled from the corner of Sasuke's mouth as he struggled to speak. "My body... moved on its own. I swore I wouldn't die until I killed him... my brother..." His newly awakened Sharingan faded back to black as his eyes drifted closed. "Don't you dare die too... loser..."

Something snapped inside Naruto as he felt Sasuke go limp in his arms. The careful balance he'd maintained between his cover and his capabilities disintegrated in a surge of raw emotion.

"Is this the first time you've seen a comrade die in battle?" Haku asked from within the mirrors. "This is the way of the shinobi."

Red chakra erupted around Naruto's body, wild and corrosive. The Nine-Tails' power, responding to his fury and grief, transformed him—nails lengthening into claws, whisker marks deepening, eyes shifting from blue to crimson with slitted pupils.

"I'm going to kill you," he snarled, voice distorted by the demonic chakra.

Haku recoiled visibly. "What are you?"

Naruto didn't answer. He placed Sasuke's body gently on the bridge, then attacked with a ferocity that shattered Hashirama's instructions, his cover, and Haku's ice mirrors in a single explosive surge. The masked ninja was thrown backward, crashing into the bridge's surface with such force that the mask cracked and fell away, revealing the familiar face beneath.

Naruto hesitated, fox-like features twisting in confusion as he recognized the gentle herb-gatherer from the forest. "You..."

"Finish it, Naruto," Haku said quietly, making no move to defend themselves. "I have failed as Zabuza-san's tool. I am of no further use to him."

The Nine-Tails' chakra receded slightly as confusion dampened Naruto's rage. "You want me to kill you? Because you lost?"

"A broken tool has no purpose," Haku replied, eyes reflecting a profound emptiness. "Zabuza-san saved me from nothing, gave me purpose when I had none. If I cannot serve that purpose..."

"That's insane!" Naruto shouted, grabbing Haku by the front of their robe. "You're a person, not a weapon! Your life has value beyond being useful to someone else!"

Something flickered in Haku's eyes—a spark of what might have been hope, quickly extinguished. "You don't understand the bond between Zabuza-san and me. He is my precious person. My only precious person."

Before Naruto could respond, Haku stiffened, head turning sharply toward where Kakashi and Zabuza continued their battle. "I sense... Zabuza-san is in danger."

Without warning, Haku broke free from Naruto's grasp and disappeared in a blur of movement. Naruto whirled, eyes widening in horror at the scene unfolding across the bridge.

Kakashi, hand wreathed in crackling lightning chakra, charged toward a immobilized Zabuza. And Haku, loyal to the end, appeared in the path of the attack, arms spread wide to shield their master.

"NO!" Naruto screamed, the sound tearing from his throat as Kakashi's Lightning Blade punched through Haku's chest.

Blood sprayed across the misty bridge. Haku's body jerked, then went still, impaled on Kakashi's arm. The jōnin's visible eye widened in shock as he realized what had happened.

"The ultimate sacrifice," Zabuza growled, regaining his movement as Kakashi's water prison jutsu broke with his concentration. "Well done, Haku."

To Naruto's horror and disgust, Zabuza gripped his massive sword and prepared to cut through Haku's corpse to reach Kakashi. "Even in death, you're useful to me!"

"STOP!" Naruto roared, red chakra flaring around him once more. "Is that all Haku meant to you? A tool? A human shield?"

Zabuza faltered, sword wavering in his grasp. "Shut up, kid. What would you know about it?"

"I know Haku loved you!" Naruto advanced, each step cracking the bridge beneath his feet as the Nine-Tails' chakra leaked through his control. "Worshipped you! Lived and died for you! And you can't even acknowledge them as a person?"

Something shifted in Zabuza's fierce eyes—a crack in the hardened exterior. Before he could respond, slow applause interrupted the confrontation.

"How very touching," came a nasal voice from the far end of the bridge. "The Demon of the Mist, brought low by a child's sermon."

The mist cleared enough to reveal a short man in an expensive suit, flanked by dozens of armed mercenaries. Gato, the shipping magnate, had arrived with his private army.

"I was going to wait until you and the Leaf ninja weakened each other further," Gato announced, tapping his cane against the bridge. "But this works too. You've become too expensive, Zabuza. I never intended to pay you anyway."

The businessman nudged Haku's fallen body with his foot. "Is this one dead? Good. The little freak broke my arm, you know."

Something darkened in Zabuza's eyes at the casual disrespect. He turned to Kakashi, bloodlust momentarily set aside. "It seems our battle is postponed, Copy Ninja. I no longer have business with the bridge builder." His gaze shifted to Naruto. "You, boy. Give me a kunai."

Naruto hesitated, then tossed the weapon to Zabuza, who caught it in his mouth—both arms hanging useless at his sides from Kakashi's earlier attacks.

What followed was a massacre that would haunt Naruto's nightmares for weeks to come. Zabuza charged into Gato's men like a demon incarnate, cutting through them with nothing but a kunai held between his teeth and sheer killing intent. By the time he reached Gato, he resembled a pincushion, dozens of weapons embedded in his back and sides, yet still he advanced.

The shipping magnate's scream was cut short as Zabuza's final attack separated his head from his shoulders. The Demon of the Mist stood swaying at the bridge's edge, blood pooling around his feet, before finally collapsing.

"Hey... kid," he rasped as Naruto approached cautiously. "Bring me to Haku."

Naruto glanced at Kakashi, who nodded once. Together, they carried Zabuza's broken body to where Haku lay, positioning the dying ninja beside his fallen apprentice.

"You were right," Zabuza admitted, voice barely audible. "Haku was too good for this world. Too good... for me." With tremendous effort, he lifted one hand to touch Haku's cold cheek. "I wonder... if I can go where you've gone. Probably not... heaven's not for demons like me..."

Snow began to fall—unusual for the season, delicate flakes drifting down to melt against the bloodstained bridge.

"Look, Zabuza," Naruto said softly. "Haku's tears... falling from the sky."

A rough sound that might have been a chuckle or a sob escaped the dying ninja. "Maybe... I can follow you after all, Haku..."

His hand fell away as the last breath left his body. The Demon of the Hidden Mist died as he had lived—violently, but in the end, with a glimmer of humanity breaking through the darkness.

Naruto stood motionless, the weight of what had transpired settling over him like the gently falling snow. Sasuke, he remembered with a jolt of panic, turning to where he'd left the Uchiha's body—

Only to find Sakura kneeling there, tears of joy streaming down her face as Sasuke sat up groggily, plucking senbon from his neck.

"He's alive!" she called, voice breaking with relief. "The needles hit his pressure points, just like with Zabuza before!"

The revelation sent a wave of conflicting emotions through Naruto—profound relief warring with the realization that he'd completely abandoned his mission parameters. He'd revealed too much of his true power, acted on emotion rather than calculation. Hashirama would be... disappointed, to say the least.

As the remaining mercenaries fled, driven off by the combined threat of the ninja and a last-minute arrival of villagers armed with farming tools, Naruto found a moment of solitude at the bridge's edge. Using a scrap of cloth, he collected a sample of Haku's blood from the bridge surface, sealing it in the container Hashirama had provided.

At least he'd accomplished that much of his mission, along with the intelligence about Akatsuki. But the cost had been high—higher than he'd anticipated in ways that had nothing to do with physical danger.

The bonds he'd formed with Team 7, the genuine grief he'd felt at Sasuke's apparent death, the rage at Haku's sacrifice being dishonored—none of it had been calculated. None of it had been part of his cover.

All of it had been real.

---

The completion of the bridge a week later was celebrated throughout the Land of Waves. With Gato dead and his organization scattered, hope had returned to the small island nation. Trade would flow again, poverty would recede, and the bridge—now named "The Great Naruto Bridge" in honor of the boy who had inspired both Inari and the entire village to stand up against tyranny—would stand as a monument to courage.

For Team 7, the mission had transformed them. Sasuke, having awakened his Sharingan, carried himself with a new confidence tempered by the humbling experience of near-death. Sakura had discovered reservoirs of strength she hadn't known she possessed, standing alone against mercenaries to protect both Tazuna and the fallen Sasuke. And Kakashi regarded his team with newfound respect, acknowledging their growth with subtle nods of approval.

As for Naruto, the changes ran deeper, less visible but more profound. The mission had forced him to confront the contradictions in his dual existence—the gap between the role Hashirama had crafted for him and the person he was becoming through his bonds with Team 7.

The journey back to Konoha was quiet, each member of the team processing their experiences in their own way. Naruto found himself walking beside Sasuke as they approached the village gates, the familiar red structure rising before them in the late afternoon sun.

"Hey," he said, uncharacteristically subdued. "About what happened on the bridge..."

Sasuke glanced at him, dark eyes unreadable. "Don't mention it."

"But you almost died protecting me. I never got to—"

"I said don't mention it," Sasuke interrupted, though without his usual sharpness. After a moment, he added, "You'd have done the same."

The simple statement carried unexpected weight. Would he have? Before the mission, Naruto might have calculated such a sacrifice based on strategic value or Hashirama's instructions. Now, he knew the answer without hesitation.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I would have."

Something like understanding passed between them, a wordless acknowledgment of a bond that had formed despite—or perhaps because of—the crucible they'd endured together.

As they passed through the village gates, reporting in to the eternal sentinels Izumo and Kotetsu, Naruto felt the familiar weight of his secret life settling back onto his shoulders. Somewhere in the forests surrounding Konoha, Hashirama awaited his report, expecting a detailed accounting of everything he'd learned about Zabuza, Haku, and the mysterious Akatsuki.

What would the First Hokage say about his emotional outbursts? About revealing the Nine-Tails' power? About prioritizing his teammates over the mission objectives?

Night fell over Konoha, stars emerging in a clear sky as Naruto made his way to the predetermined meeting point. The clearing looked different somehow—smaller, less imposing than it had before the Land of Waves mission.

Hashirama waited in his true form, imposing in his traditional armor, arms crossed as Naruto approached and bowed deeply.

"Rise," the First Hokage commanded, voice neutral. "Report."

Naruto straightened, meeting those ancient eyes directly. "The mission was successful. Tazuna completed his bridge, Gato's operation was dismantled, and I gathered intelligence on Akatsuki as instructed."

He detailed everything he'd learned from Haku—the organization's appearance, their interest in tailed beasts, the leader's possession of the Rinnegan. Hashirama's expression grew increasingly grave as Naruto spoke.

"So it's true," the First Hokage murmured. "The Rinnegan has returned. This confirms my worst suspicions."

"There's more," Naruto continued, withdrawing the sealed container. "A sample of Haku's blood, as requested. They possessed a rare kekkei genkai—Ice Release."

Hashirama accepted the container with a nod of approval. "Well done. This will prove valuable for my research." His eyes narrowed slightly. "However, I sense there is something you're not telling me."

Here it was—the moment of truth. Naruto took a deep breath. "During the battle, I... lost control. When I thought Sasuke had been killed, I accessed the Nine-Tails' chakra. Unintentionally."

"I see." Hashirama's voice cooled several degrees. "You compromised your cover."

"Yes. Kakashi witnessed it, as did Sasuke briefly before he lost consciousness. I don't believe either fully understands what happened, but they saw more of my abilities than planned."

"And why did this occur?" Hashirama asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

Naruto hesitated, then decided on complete honesty. "Because I care about them. About my team. When I thought Sasuke had died protecting me, something... broke. I couldn't maintain the deception in that moment."

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken implications. Naruto braced himself for disappointment, for a lecture on discipline and the greater mission.

Instead, Hashirama did something unexpected. He smiled.

"Good," the First Hokage said simply.

Naruto blinked in confusion. "Good? But I failed to maintain my cover. I let emotions compromise the mission."

"No, Naruto." Hashirama approached, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You remembered what I told you before you left—if forced to choose between your cover and your teammates, choose them. The bonds you form with Team 7 are not merely a convenient disguise; they are essential to our long-term goals."

Relief washed through Naruto, though confusion lingered. "I don't understand. How does my friendship with Sasuke and Sakura help your plans?"

"The shinobi world is built on two foundations—power and loyalty," Hashirama explained, beginning to pace the clearing. "Power without loyalty is destructive; loyalty without power is meaningless. What I am creating, through you, is a network of both." He stopped, fixing Naruto with an intense gaze. "The current system pits villages against each other, forcing shinobi to choose between their village's interests and larger humanitarian concerns. My vision requires individuals whose loyalties transcend these artificial boundaries."

The pieces clicked into place in Naruto's mind. "You want me to build real connections with my generation. Connections that could someday override village loyalties."

"Precisely." Hashirama nodded, approval evident in his expression. "Sasuke Uchiha, last of his clan, carries enormous potential influence. His loyalty to you—earned through genuine bonds rather than manipulation—may prove crucial when the time comes to reshape the shinobi system."

The revelation shifted Naruto's understanding of his role dramatically. All this time, he'd believed he needed to maintain emotional distance while gathering intelligence and developing his skills. But Hashirama had been playing a deeper game—one where Naruto's authentic connections were as valuable as his covert abilities.

"So when I protected my team instead of prioritizing intelligence gathering...?"

"You were fulfilling your most important mission," Hashirama confirmed. "Though perhaps with more dramatic flair than necessary." A hint of dry humor colored his voice. "The Nine-Tails' chakra is a powerful tool, but one to be used with greater precision in the future."

Naruto nodded, still processing this paradigm shift. "What happens now? Kakashi suspects something's different about me."

"Let him wonder," Hashirama advised. "Kakashi Hatake is intelligent and observant, but also loyal to Konoha and protective of his students. His suspicions will likely lead him to conclude you're beginning to access the Nine-Tails' power naturally—a development the Third Hokage has anticipated for years."

The mention of the Third sent a pang of guilt through Naruto. The old man had always been kind to him, one of the few adults who'd shown genuine concern for his welfare before Iruka and Hashirama entered his life. Yet here he was, participating in an elaborate deception that excluded the current Hokage entirely.

"Does it ever bother you?" he asked suddenly. "Keeping secrets from the village you founded? From the people who trust and honor your memory?"

Hashirama's expression softened, revealing a glimpse of the weight he carried. "Every day," he admitted quietly. "But I've seen the consequences of transparency in a world not ready for certain truths. I've watched ideals twisted into weapons by those without the wisdom to wield them properly." He gazed up at the stars, seemingly lost in memories. "Sometimes, secrets protect more than they harm."

The vulnerability in this confession—so unlike the strategic, commanding presence Hashirama typically projected—humanized the legendary figure in a way Naruto hadn't experienced before.

"Return to the village," Hashirama instructed, his normal composure returning. "Rest. Reflect on what you've learned. We'll resume your specialized training in three days' time."

Naruto bowed, turning to leave, then paused. "Lord First?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For understanding about Sasuke and the others. For not being angry that I... felt things I wasn't supposed to feel."

A shadow of something—regret? compassion?—crossed Hashirama's features. "Naruto, I have never wanted you to be merely a tool without feelings. That would make me no better than Zabuza was to Haku." He stepped forward, placing a hand atop Naruto's head in a gesture that had become familiar over their months together. "Your capacity for connection, for empathy even toward your enemies, is precisely what makes you the perfect vessel for the change I envision."

The words settled something restless within Naruto's chest. As he made his way back toward the village, the stars bright overhead and the weight of dual loyalties still heavy on his shoulders but somehow more balanced now, he reflected on the mission that had changed everything.

He had gone to the Land of Waves as Team Seven's shadow member, carrying secrets and agendas his teammates couldn't imagine. He returned still carrying those secrets, but with something new as well—a genuine connection to the very people he was supposed to be deceiving.

The contradiction should have troubled him more than it did. Instead, it felt like the first honest thing in his complicated existence. Whatever Hashirama's grand design ultimately revealed itself to be, Naruto now understood that his bonds with Team 7 were not obstacles to that vision but essential components of it.

He was still the Fox's Apprentice, still the shadow member with divided loyalties. But now those divisions felt less like fractures and more like bridges—connecting parts of himself that had previously existed in isolation.

As the lights of Konoha grew closer, Naruto smiled, a real smile untainted by deception or calculation. For the first time since Hashirama had entered his life, he felt not like a piece on a game board but like a person with genuine connections and authentic purpose.

It was, he decided, a good feeling.