What if naruto reborn with all his memories

The blinding light faded to darkness as Naruto Uzumaki, Seventh Hokage of Konohagakure, drew his final breath. The battlefield around him fell silent—no more explosions, no more cries of pain, just the gentle whisper of wind carrying away the remnants of his life force. At seventy-two, he'd lived longer than most shinobi dared dream, outlasting enemies and outliving friends. His body, scarred and worn from decades of battles, finally surrendered to mortality despite the Nine-Tails' healing power.

Not bad, old man, Kurama's voice echoed in his mind. You've earned your rest.

Naruto smiled, the corners of his weathered face crinkling. "We both have, partner."

The darkness enveloped him completely. His last conscious thought was of Hinata's face, their children, their grandchildren—a life well-lived, a village protected, a world at peace. His final mission complete.

Then—pain.

Sharp, crushing pain in his chest as if someone had plunged a hand through his ribcage and squeezed his heart. Naruto's eyes shot open, his body jerking upright as he gasped for air that suddenly felt too thin.

"What the"

His voice cracked, but not with age. It squeaked with youth, high-pitched and unbroken. Naruto's hands flew to his throat, then to his face. Smooth skin. No wrinkles. No scars from the countless battles he'd fought. Small hands, pudgy with childhood.

Sunlight streamed through a grimy window, illuminating a cramped apartment that Naruto hadn't seen in over six decades. Faded posters of ramen bowls adorned the walls. A small, unmade bed with shuriken-patterned sheets. A refrigerator that hummed too loudly in the corner.

"This can't be" he whispered, scrambling out of bed only to trip over his suddenly shorter legs. He crashed to the floor with none of the grace that had made him a legendary shinobi.

Naruto crawled to a cracked mirror propped against the wall and stared, transfixed, at the reflection that greeted him. Wild blonde hair, unmarked by the passage of time. Round, childish cheeks bearing three whisker marks on each side. Wide blue eyes filled with terror and confusion—the eyes of a seven-year-old boy.

"I'm—I'm back. I'm alive."

His heart hammered against his ribs as memories crashed over him like tsunami waves—memories of a life not yet lived. Memories of becoming a genin, of Team 7, of chasing Sasuke, of Pain's invasion, of war and peace and joy and heartbreak and decades of existence that hadn't happened yet.

Naruto pressed his small palms against his temples, trying to contain the flood of information threatening to drown him. "Kurama? Are you there?"

No answer came, just the distant echo of malevolent chakra slumbering deep within his seal. Of course—they weren't partners yet. That bond had taken years to forge.

He staggered to his feet, legs wobbly beneath him. The calendar on his wall confirmed his suspicions: fifteen years before he would become Hokage, twenty years before the birth of his first child, sixty-five years before his death.

"I've been given another chance," he whispered, his child's voice trembling with the weight of an old man's wisdom.

The sound of villagers filtered through his window—ordinary morning sounds that carried a sting he'd forgotten. Whispers. Glares. The burden of being the village pariah, the demon container, the unwanted child.

Naruto flinched as memories of loneliness crashed over him, rawer and fresher than they had any right to be. He'd outgrown this pain decades ago, had transformed it into strength, into empathy, into the foundation of his ninja way. Yet here it was again, as fresh as an open wound.

"Focus," he muttered to himself, closing his eyes. "I need to see what I'm working with."

He formed a hand sign, gathering chakra in his center. The familiar warmth of energy flowed through him, but unsteady, undisciplined. When he tried to create a shadow clone—a technique he'd mastered to the point of creating thousands without breaking a sweat—nothing happened except a puff of pathetic smoke.

"Damn it!" Frustration bubbled up, hot and familiar—a child's emotion in a child's body, despite the elderly soul within. "My chakra control is garbage again!"

He tried once more, concentrating harder, forcing his unruly chakra to obey. This time, a single clone popped into existence beside him, looking as disgruntled as he felt.

"That's it? One lousy clone?" The clone crossed its arms in disgust.

"Better than nothing." Naruto dismissed it with a wave, watching it disappear in a cloud of smoke. "My body's untrained, but my mind remembers everything. I can work with this."

Outside, the village was waking up. The Konoha he remembered from childhood—before Pain's destruction, before its reconstruction, before the technological revolution that would transform it in the decades to come. The Konoha where his parents' sacrifice remained unknown, where Sasuke still walked the streets with darkness growing in his heart, where the Akatsuki plotted in shadows.

Where people he'd mourned still lived and breathed.

Naruto's chest tightened. "Jiji Neji Pervy Sage" His voice cracked. "They're all still alive."

He threw on his orange jumpsuit, fingers fumbling with the unfamiliar smallness of the clothing. As he dressed, a plan began to form in his mind—tenuous at first, then with growing clarity.

"I can change things," he whispered, blue eyes gleaming with determination. "I can save Sasuke before he leaves. I can prepare for the Akatsuki. I can stop Madara and Obito and Kaguya before they destroy everything."

The weight of this knowledge, this responsibility, settled on his seven-year-old shoulders—shoulders that had once carried the hopes of the entire shinobi world. They could bear this burden again.

He stepped outside into the harsh morning sunlight, squinting against its glare. Villagers passed, some pointedly ignoring him, others shooting venomous glares. A shopkeeper hurriedly ushered his daughter inside as Naruto approached.

They still hate me, he thought, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. Decades of respect, of admiration, of being hailed as the village's greatest hero—all of it erased, unwritten, yet to come.

But beneath the sting, Naruto felt something else: determination. He knew their hearts could change—he'd done it once before. He could do it again.

"Just you wait," he murmured, a fox-like grin spreading across his young face. "I'll win you all over faster this time."

He spent the day testing his limitations, finding abandoned training grounds to measure his strength, speed, and chakra control. His muscles held none of the power he remembered, his reflexes dulled by youth and lack of training. Yet his mind retained every technique, every strategy, every hard-won lesson from a lifetime of battle.

By sunset, sweat-soaked and panting, Naruto had a clearer understanding of what he faced. His seven-year-old body might be weak, but it held potential waiting to be unlocked—potential he knew exactly how to develop.

As night fell, he made his way to the Hokage Monument, climbing the stone faces with far less grace than he once possessed. At the top, he stood before the carved visages of the four Hokage who had led the village before him—the fourth being his father, though few in the village knew it.

Wind whipped through his blonde hair as he stared across the village—his village, though they didn't know that yet either. Lights twinkled in windows, families gathered for dinner, lives unfolded in peaceful ignorance of the catastrophes that awaited them.

"I won't let it happen again," Naruto declared to the stone faces, his child's voice carrying the resolve of the Hokage he had been—would be. "I'll protect them all this time. I'll save those I couldn't save before."

His gaze lingered on the distant Uchiha compound, where a young Sasuke still lived with his family, unaware of the massacre that loomed mere months away.

"I'll save you too, Sasuke," he promised. "No matter what it takes."

Stars emerged overhead, constellations familiar yet strange—viewed through younger eyes, from an earlier time. Naruto extended his small fist toward them, just as he had countless times before important battles.

"This is my new ninja way," he vowed to the night sky, to the village below, to the memories of a future not yet written. "To use what I know to protect everyone precious to me. Believe it!"

The wind seemed to answer, carrying his words across Konoha like a prophecy waiting to unfold. Standing alone atop the monument, Naruto Uzumaki—child in body, Hokage in spirit—faced the dawn of his second chance with fierce determination.

The past was written. The future was not.

And this time, he would make sure it turned out right.

Morning sunlight sliced through the Academy windows in golden shards, catching dust motes that danced like miniature stars. Naruto sat hunched at his desk, fingers drumming an impatient rhythm against worn wood as his classmates filtered in. The cacophony of childish voices—so familiar yet so distant in his memories—crashed against his eardrums with jarring intensity.

Act normal. Act like a kid. The mantra repeated in his head as he plastered on his trademark grin, deliberately widening it to the point of absurdity. He'd spent the last week adjusting to this bizarre second chance, rehearsing how to behave like the hyperactive troublemaker they all expected while harboring the wisdom of a man who'd led an entire village through both war and peace.

"Good MORNING, everybody!" Naruto bellowed, leaping onto his desk with exaggerated enthusiasm. Several students groaned. Others pointedly ignored him. Exactly as expected.

Behind the facade, his mind calculated every interaction with surgical precision. Too much, dial it back. Remember how children actually behave.

Iruka-sensei strode in, clipboard clutched to his chest, the scar across his nose crinkling as he scowled at the classroom chaos. "Naruto! Desk. NOW."

"Sorry, Iruka-sensei!" Naruto chirped, dropping back into his seat with a deliberate clumsiness that he hadn't possessed in decades. The familiar reprimand stung in ways he hadn't anticipated. This wasn't the Iruka who'd become like a father to him, who'd proudly watched him become Hokage, who'd bounced Naruto's children on his aging knees. This Iruka still saw him as the demon fox brat—a troublesome reminder of Konoha's darkest day.

The realization tightened around Naruto's chest like wire. He swallowed hard against the unexpected lump in his throat.

"Today we'll be practicing transformation jutsu," Iruka announced, chalk scraping against the blackboard. "Line up, everyone."

As students shuffled forward, Naruto scanned the room with new eyes. Sakura and Ino huddled together, giggling behind cupped hands as they stole glances at Sasuke. The Uchiha prodigy sat stone-faced, staring at nothing, the darkness already growing within him like a cancer.

Sasuke Naruto's heart twisted. Your family is already gone, isn't it? I was so caught up in testing my abilities, I lost track of time.

The Uchiha massacre had already occurred. Another chance lost before he'd even begun.

When Naruto's turn came, he stood before Iruka, hands forming the familiar seal. A split-second decision flashed through his mind: Show improvement, but not mastery. Progress, not perfection.

"Transform!" A puff of smoke enveloped him, clearing to reveal a near-perfect copy of Iruka—with deliberately mismatched sandals.

Iruka blinked, surprise flickering across his features. "That's actually quite good, Naruto. Except the footwear."

"Aw man, I almost had it!" Naruto scratched his head, feigning embarrassment while inwardly celebrating the tiny victory. Too often in his first childhood, he'd played the fool completely, hiding any skill out of fear of rejection. This time would be different.

As class continued, Naruto executed his plan with the tactical precision he'd developed as a war veteran. When Shikamaru slouched by, Naruto casually dropped a shogi piece he'd pocketed earlier.

"Hey, you dropped this," he said, keeping his voice uncharacteristically calm as he handed it over.

Shikamaru's lazy eyes sharpened momentarily. "Not mine."

"Oh." Naruto shrugged. "Want it anyway? I found a whole set behind the academy. Thought maybe we could play sometime."

The Nara genius studied him, suspicion warring with curiosity. "You play shogi?"

"Nope! But I bet you could teach me." Naruto grinned—not his manic fox grin, but something smaller, more genuine. "Seems less troublesome than running from Iruka-sensei all day."

A microscopic smile tugged at Shikamaru's lips. "How troublesome," he muttered, but pocketed the piece. "Fine. Tomorrow at lunch."

First connection: reestablished. Naruto mentally checked off his list.

During taijutsu practice, he deliberately positioned himself near Hinata, who stood trembling at the edge of the training ground, pressing her fingers together in that achingly familiar gesture. In his first life, he'd been oblivious to her feelings for years, blind to the quiet strength beneath her shyness. Now, seeing her fidget in the dappled shade, all he could think of was the confident woman who had become his wife, who had died in his arms after sixty years of marriage, her wrinkled hand pressed against his cheek.

The memory hit like a physical blow, nearly buckling his knees.

"Are you okay, Naruto-kun?" Her soft voice pierced his reverie.

Naruto blinked back unexpected moisture. "Hinata!" He forced lightness into his tone. "Yeah, just thinking about ramen! Hey, wanna practice together?"

Her pale eyes widened, cheeks flaring crimson. "M-me? But I'm not very good"

"That's okay! I'm not either. We can be not-good together!" He extended his hand, a gesture so simple yet loaded with decades of meaning only he remembered.

After a hesitation that felt like eternity, she placed her small palm in his. The contact sent an electric jolt through him—this hand, so different from the one he remembered, yet somehow the same.

"O-okay," she whispered.

They practiced basic forms together, Naruto carefully moderating his movements to match hers, offering encouragement instead of his usual brash commentary. Each shy smile she gave him was a treasure, a fragile thing he protected like the rarest jewel.

Second connection: reforged.

The real test came during lunch break. Naruto perched on a swing, deliberately echoing his lonely past while strategically positioning himself in Sasuke's path. When the Uchiha stalked by, hands jammed in pockets and eyes fixed on the ground, Naruto called out.

"Hey, Sasuke!"

Dark eyes flicked toward him, cold and dismissive. "What do you want, dobe?"

The familiar insult—nostalgic in its sting—almost made Naruto smile. Instead, he jumped from the swing and approached with measured steps, stopping at a respectful distance.

"I just" Naruto faltered, the carefully prepared speech evaporating. What could he possibly say to this version of Sasuke, already fractured by tragedy, without revealing too much? "I wanted to say I'm sorry. About your family."

Sasuke froze, expression shifting from dismissal to white-hot rage in an instant. "Don't talk about my family," he snarled, voice crackling with barely contained fury. "You know nothing about loss."

In his first life, Naruto would have exploded with indignation, would have shouted about his own orphaned status. Instead, he met Sasuke's glare steadily, channeling the Seventh Hokage's diplomatic calm.

"You're right. I don't know what it's like to lose what you had." He spoke softly, each word deliberate. "But I know what it's like to never have it at all. Different pains, I guess."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed, rage momentarily displaced by confusion at this unexpected response. "What game are you playing?"

"No game." Naruto shrugged, scuffing the dirt with his sandal. "Just thought maybe being alone sucks for you too."

He turned and walked away before Sasuke could respond, heart hammering against his ribs. Behind him, he felt the weight of the Uchiha's stare boring into his back—confused, suspicious, but perhaps, just perhaps, seeing Naruto clearly for the first time.

Third connection: initiated. Status: complicated.

The afternoon brought kunai practice, where Naruto faced another tactical decision. In his first life, he'd been genuinely terrible at weapons, his form sloppy and aim atrocious. Now, with muscle memory from thousands of hours of practice locked in his mind but not his body, he had to choose his level of competence carefully.

When his turn came, he adopted a stance that was better than his original form but still flawed, and aimed with deliberate imprecision—hitting the outer rings of the target instead of missing completely.

"Huh, not bad, Naruto," Iruka said, making a note on his clipboard. "You've been practicing."

"You bet, Iruka-sensei! I'm gonna be Hokage someday, believe it!" Naruto pumped his fist with calculated enthusiasm while his inner self added, Again.

After classes ended, Naruto lingered, watching his classmates disperse. Sakura trailed after Sasuke, who ignored her completely. Kiba roughhoused with Akamaru, the ninken barely larger than a housecat. Choji and Shikamaru ambled off together, sharing a bag of chips. All these familiar dynamics, playing out exactly as before.

Except this time, Hinata glanced back at him before hurrying away, a small smile ghosting across her lips.

Progress.

Naruto waited until the Academy grounds emptied before slipping into the forest behind the building. He needed solitude for what came next.

The clearing he found was dappled with late afternoon sunlight, leaves casting shifting shadows across the forest floor. Perfect. Naruto sat cross-legged on a flat rock, closed his eyes, and began the meditation technique he'd perfected over decades.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Find the center.

The world fell away as he dove inward, seeking the familiar presence at his core. Last time, it had taken nearly sixteen years to truly connect with the Nine-Tails. This time, he wouldn't wait.

When Naruto opened his eyes, he stood in ankle-deep water, the familiar sewer-like mindscape stretching before him. Pipes ran along the ceiling, pulsing with blue and red chakra. And ahead, behind massive bars sealed with a paper tag, loomed a presence he knew intimately.

Massive red eyes glowed in the darkness, pupils slitted and malevolent.

"So," rumbled a voice that shook the water at Naruto's feet, "my jailer finally comes to visit."

Naruto stepped forward, stopping just short of the bars. "Kurama."

The Nine-Tails' eyes widened fractionally before narrowing to dangerous slits. A enormous clawed hand slammed against the bars with enough force to send ripples across the mindscape.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT NAME" the fox roared, muzzle contorted in fury and—was that fear?

"Because you told me," Naruto replied calmly, meeting that massive gaze without flinching. "In another lifetime. A future that hasn't happened yet."

The fox's tails lashed behind him, agitation evident in every movement. "Impossible."

"I died as an old man, with you still sealed inside me. We were partners. Friends." Naruto spread his hands. "And then I woke up here, in my seven-year-old body, with all my memories intact."

Kurama's massive head lowered until they were eye-to-eye, his hot breath washing over Naruto in sulfurous waves. "If you're lying, I will make your life a living hell."

"You already tried that approach the first time around," Naruto said with a wry smile. "It didn't work out so well for either of us."

The fox studied him for a long, tense moment. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed—a deep, rumbling sound that echoed through the chamber. "Well, well. The universe has a strange sense of humor." His tails settled, no longer lashing angrily. "So you claim we become friends?" He practically spat the last word.

"Hard to believe, I know."

"Impossible to believe." Kurama snorted, sending ripples across the water. "Yet you know my name, which no human has uttered in centuries." His massive head tilted. "Tell me something only my 'friend' would know."

Naruto smiled. "Your siblings are named Shukaku, Matatabi, Isobu, Son Gokū, Kokuō, Saiken, Chōmei, and Gyūki. You were all created from the Ten-Tails by the Sage of Six Paths, who you called 'old man' and who named you Kurama."

The fox went utterly still, all nine tails frozen mid-sway. "Impossible," he whispered, but there was no conviction in it.

"I've fought alongside all of you. I've been the meeting place where you siblings reunited after centuries apart." Naruto stepped closer to the bars. "And I'm going to do it again, but better this time."

For several heartbeats, Kurama said nothing, red eyes flickering with calculations and considerations beyond human comprehension. Finally, he settled onto his haunches, regarding Naruto with newfound wariness—and perhaps the faintest glimmer of interest.

"Even if I believed this absurd tale—and I don't say I do—what exactly do you expect from me, brat?"

"For now? Nothing." Naruto shrugged. "Just wanted you to know that I know. That I remember what we become. The rest well, we've got time."

Kurama's laughter filled the chamber again, darker this time. "Time, indeed. And I have nothing but time in this cage." His massive tails curled around his body. "Go away now, little jailer-who-would-be-friend. I have much to consider."

"Sure thing." Naruto turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Kurama? That seal on our shared belly button? It's the Eight Trigrams Seal. My father, the Fourth Hokage, designed it. He apologized, you know, before he died the second time."

The fox's shocked silence followed Naruto as he retreated from the mindscape, satisfaction warming his chest. Fourth connection: complicated, but established.

Reality crashed back with disorienting abruptness. The clearing had grown darker, long shadows stretching across the ground as sunset approached. Naruto stood, brushing dirt from his orange pants, and began gathering chakra in his palm.

"Let's see how much I can manage in this puny body," he muttered.

First, he attempted water walking—a basic technique that had once taken him weeks to master. He approached a small stream cutting through the clearing, channeled chakra to his feet, and stepped onto the surface.

His foot sank immediately, sandal soaking through as water rushed over the top.

"Damn it!" He tried again, concentrating harder, forcing more precise control. This time, he managed three wobbly steps before his concentration slipped and he plunged ankle-deep into the cold stream.

Naruto gritted his teeth. "Again."

For the next hour, he practiced relentlessly, cycling through basic chakra control exercises: leaf sticking, tree climbing, even the beginnings of the Rasengan, though his small hands couldn't quite manage the complex chakra manipulation required.

By the time darkness fell completely, he'd made modest progress. He could walk on water for nearly thirty seconds before sinking. He could run ten steps up a tree trunk before gravity reclaimed him. And he could form a pale, unstable shadow of the Rasengan before it dissipated like smoke.

Not nearly enough. Nowhere close to what he'd need.

Naruto sat heavily on the forest floor, panting from exertion, his small body trembling with chakra depletion. The stars had emerged overhead, cold and distant through the canopy of leaves. He'd once been able to level mountains, had faced gods and demons with the power of an entire village at his command.

Now he couldn't maintain a stable Rasengan.

But as frustration threatened to overwhelm him, a memory surfaced—Jiraiya's voice, gruff but kind: "Power doesn't make the Hokage, kid. The Hokage makes the power."

Naruto smiled into the darkness. He'd rebuild his strength, step by painstaking step. He had what his younger self had lacked: direction, purpose, and the knowledge of exactly where the path led.

Standing, he formed a single hand sign. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

Three clones popped into existence around him—more than he'd managed the day before. Progress. Each grinned at him with his own face, awaiting instructions.

"You know the drill," Naruto said, dividing them with a gesture. "You two, water walking. You, tree climbing. I'll work on the Rasengan."

As his clones dispersed to their assigned tasks, Naruto cupped his hands and focused his chakra, feeling it swirl and condense between his palms. The blue light illuminated the clearing with an ethereal glow, casting sharp shadows across the ground.

He might be trapped in a child's body, limited by undeveloped chakra pathways and muscle memory that didn't yet exist. But his mind remembered everything—every technique, every battle, every precious bond. And this time, armed with foreknowledge and determination, he wouldn't waste a single moment.

"Just wait," he whispered to the night, the unstable Rasengan casting his determined face in ghostly blue light. "I'm going to change everything."

Above him, the stars wheeled silently overhead, bearing witness to a promise that spanned lifetimes.

The Academy classroom buzzed with nervous energy, thirty young bodies fidgeting at their desks like wind-up toys about to spring. Sweat glistened on foreheads, papers rustled between trembling fingers, and the acrid smell of anxiety permeated the air. Graduation day. For most, the culmination of years of training. For Naruto Uzumaki, a carefully choreographed performance he'd rehearsed in his mind a thousand times.

"When I call your name," Iruka announced, voice slicing through the tension, "proceed to the examination room."

Naruto drummed his fingers against the worn desktop, mentally reviewing his strategy. Show improvement. Not mastery. Just enough to pass, not enough to shock.

Names were called one by one, students disappearing through the door only to emerge minutes later, either beaming with pride or fighting back tears. The wait stretched like hot metal, bending but never breaking.

"Uzumaki Naruto!"

The moment rippled through him with déjà vu so powerful it nearly stole his breath. Naruto bounded to his feet with calculated enthusiasm, catching Hinata's eye as he passed. She offered a tiny smile, fingers pressed together in that achingly familiar gesture.

"Good luck, Naruto-kun," she whispered.

He grinned. "Don't need luck when you've got skills, believe it!" The words were vintage Naruto – brash, overconfident – but his wink held a warmth that made her blush deepen to crimson.

The examination room smelled of chalk dust and floor polish. Iruka sat behind a table alongside Mizuki, whose smile reminded Naruto of a snake eyeing a particularly juicy mouse. Traitor, Naruto thought, maintaining his façade of nervous excitement. I'm coming for you later, believe it.

"Alright, Naruto," Iruka said, pen poised over his evaluation sheet. "Let's see what you can do. Create three functional clones."

The Clone Jutsu – his old nemesis. In his first life, this simple technique had been his downfall, the obstacle that had nearly derailed his ninja career before it began. His chakra control had been too poor, his reserves too vast and wild to manage such precise manipulation.

Now, despite his seven-year-old body's limitations, his mind remembered decades of chakra control exercises. Still, he had to be careful.

Naruto adopted a stance that was better than his past self's but deliberately flawed, forcing his face into an expression of extreme concentration. Chakra swirled around him, visible as faint blue energy, as he formed the hand signs with exaggerated deliberation.

"Clone Jutsu!"

Smoke billowed through the room. When it cleared, three Narutos stood in a row – two nearly perfect, one slightly washed-out and listing to the side like a drunk after a three-day bender.

"Two out of three," Mizuki remarked, marking something on his clipboard. "Not perfect, but"

"But passing," Iruka finished, genuine surprise coloring his voice. "Congratulations, Naruto. You've graduated."

The surge of victory, though anticipated, still flooded Naruto's system with adrenaline. He leapt into the air with a whoop that shook dust from the ceiling beams. "YES! One step closer to Hokage!"

Iruka handed him a forehead protector, the metal cool and solid against Naruto's palm. Though he'd worn one for most of his life, this moment – receiving it the first time, the proper way – sent an unexpected wave of emotion crashing through him.

"Thank you, Iruka-sensei," he said, voice dropping to a sincerity that momentarily bewildered his teacher.

Outside, newly-minted genin clustered in excited groups while parents beamed with pride. Naruto tied his headband in place with practiced ease, then stepped aside to observe. Sakura chattering excitedly with her mother. Sasuke standing alone, his achievement unremarked upon by any family. Kiba roughhousing with Akamaru while his sister looked on with amused exasperation.

And Naruto – alone again, as always, though this time by choice rather than exclusion. He had preparations to make.

Night fell over Konoha like a velvet curtain, stars punching through the darkness overhead as Naruto crept through the shadows toward the Hokage Tower. The guards' patrol patterns remained fresh in his memory from a lifetime of navigating this building, first as prankster, then as Hokage himself.

Three two one

The guards rounded the corner, and Naruto slipped through the window like a ghost, his movements economical and precise – not the clumsy stealth of a child, but the calculated infiltration of a veteran shinobi in a child's body.

The Scroll of Sealing lay exactly where he remembered, massive and imposing in its protective case. Naruto lifted it with reverent hands, securing it to his back before vanishing back through the window. The first piece of his plan, set in motion.

The forest clearing hummed with nighttime sounds – crickets sawing their eternal melody, owls gliding silent as death between ancient trees, the distant rush of water over stones. Naruto unrolled the scroll with practiced hands, though he feigned the wide-eyed wonder of discovery.

"Multi Shadow Clone Jutsu," he murmured, fingers tracing the familiar instructions. "First on the list. Just like before."

He trained with deliberate showiness, knowing Mizuki would be tracking him, waiting to strike. The hours wore on as Naruto perfected techniques he'd already mastered in another lifetime, sweat soaking his jumpsuit, leaves and dirt clinging to his hair.

The crash of undergrowth announced Iruka's arrival, right on schedule.

"NARUTO!" His former teacher's face was a thundercloud of anger and concern. "Do you have ANY idea what you've done"

Naruto arranged his features into a mask of confusion. "But Mizuki-sensei said if I learned a technique from this scroll, you'd let me graduate!"

"Mizuki said—?"

The whistle of kunai cutting air was Naruto's only warning. He dove for Iruka, knocking him sideways as metal thudded into the tree trunk where his teacher had stood moments before.

Mizuki perched in the branches above them, moonlight casting his face in harsh shadows that emphasized the cruel twist of his smile. Two massive shuriken were strapped to his back, glinting with deadly promise.

"Well done, demon brat," he called down, voice dripping with false sweetness. "Now be a good little monster and hand over the scroll."

The scene unfolded with nightmarish familiarity – Mizuki revealing the secret of the Nine-Tails, his voice rising with hate as he described the demon sealed inside the village pariah. Iruka's defense, passionate and unexpected. The flash of metal as Mizuki launched his massive shuriken.

But this time, Naruto was ready.

He intercepted the weapon with fluid grace, plucking it from the air almost casually before flinging it harmlessly aside. The look on Mizuki's face – shock bleeding into outrage – was worth every moment of restraint Naruto had forced upon himself these past weeks.

"You know," Naruto said conversationally, dusting his hands together as though he'd just taken out the trash, "for a chunin instructor, you're really not that bright."

"You little—"

"I mean, did you honestly think I didn't know about the fox?" The words sliced through the clearing like a blade, stopping Mizuki mid-sentence. "That's old news, sensei."

The traitor's face contorted with confusion. "What are you talking about? There's no way—"

"Oh, and your plan to steal the scroll and blame me?" Naruto continued, strolling forward with hands clasped behind his head, the picture of unconcerned confidence. "Also not original. Or smart. Or remotely likely to succeed."

Behind him, Iruka struggled to his feet, clutching his wounded leg. "Naruto, get back!"

"It's okay, Iruka-sensei," Naruto called over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Mizuki. "I can handle this trash."

Mizuki's laugh shattered the night, high and unhinged. "You? A failed academy student against a chunin? You're delusional as well as demonic!"

"Maybe. Or maybe—" Naruto's hands flew through seals with practiced precision, "—I just know something you don't." Chakra surged through him, wild and electric. "MULTI SHADOW CLONE JUTSU!"

The clearing exploded with orange as hundreds of shadow clones materialized in perfect formation, surrounding Mizuki in a sea of whiskered faces, each wearing the same dangerous smile. The air thrummed with the collective chakra of so many bodies, leaves swirling upward in the sudden energy displacement.

"Impossible," Mizuki breathed, head swiveling frantically as he sought an escape route that didn't exist.

"What was that about a failed academy student?" The Naruto army spoke in unison, the effect chilling in its synchronicity. "Let me show you what this 'demon brat' can do!"

The beating that followed was swift, merciless, and – if Naruto was being honest with himself – deeply satisfying. His clones swarmed the traitor with coordinated attacks that spoke of experience far beyond academy training, each blow precisely calculated to maximize pain while minimizing permanent damage.

When it was over, Mizuki lay in a crumpled heap, unrecognizable beneath the bruises and dirt. Naruto dispelled his clones with a casual gesture, then turned to find Iruka staring at him with an expression caught between awe and suspicion.

"Naruto" his teacher began, then seemed to struggle for words. "That was how did you?"

Naruto rubbed the back of his head, allowing genuine sheepishness to surface. "I guess I just learn fast when I'm motivated?"

The explanation was flimsy, and they both knew it, but Iruka didn't press. Instead, he reached up and adjusted his own headband.

"Close your eyes, Naruto."

The familiar request sent a jolt of emotion through Naruto's chest. He obeyed, feeling the gentle pressure as Iruka removed the forehead protector Naruto had received earlier and replaced it with another – Iruka's own.

"Congratulations," Iruka said warmly, his voice thick with pride. "You've more than earned this."

Naruto opened his eyes to see his teacher's smiling face, forehead bare where his treasured protector had been for years. The gesture, repeated from his first lifetime yet somehow more meaningful now, broke something open inside him. He launched himself at Iruka, arms wrapping around the startled chunin in a fierce hug.

"Thank you," he whispered, genuine tears pricking his eyes. "For everything."

The Academy classroom buzzed with excited conversation as newly-graduated genin awaited team assignments. Sunlight streamed through the windows, catching dust motes that twirled like tiny dancers in the golden beams. Naruto slouched in his seat, arms folded behind his head in a posture of practiced nonchalance, while his mind raced with anticipation.

Team Seven. Sakura. Sasuke. Kakashi. The beginning of everything.

Sakura and Ino burst through the door in a flurry of motion and sound, elbowing each other aside in their race to reach Sasuke first. The Uchiha prodigy didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow at their entrance, his gaze fixed on some distant point only he could see.

"Move it, Billboard Brow!"

"In your dreams, Ino-pig!"

Their familiar bickering washed over Naruto like a nostalgic wave. He'd forgotten how young they'd all been, how consumed by trivial rivalries and childish crushes. Looking at Sakura now – gangly and insecure beneath her bluster – it was hard to reconcile her with the formidable medical ninja and powerhouse she would become.

As if sensing his scrutiny, Sakura turned, green eyes narrowing. "What are you doing here, Naruto? This class is for students who actually graduated."

Naruto tapped his forehead protector with a grin that held more affection than she could possibly understand. "Check the hardware, Sakura-chan. I'm all official."

She blinked, genuinely surprised, before her attention snapped back to Sasuke as he shifted in his seat. The object of her affection continued to ignore her, but his dark eyes briefly flickered toward Naruto with something that might have been curiosity before resuming their disinterested study of nothing.

Baby steps, Naruto reminded himself. Build the bonds slowly. Don't rush.

When Iruka entered and began announcing teams, Naruto allowed himself to vibrate with manufactured excitement, bouncing in his seat as though the outcome was uncertain. When "Team Seven: Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura, and Uchiha Sasuke" was called, he leapt up with a whoop that set teeth on edge throughout the classroom.

"YES! Sakura-chan, we're on the same team!" He pumped his fist in the air while silently apologizing for the theatrics. Sorry, Sakura, but they expect the old Naruto. The annoying one who had a massive crush on you. The one you need to see grow.

The next three hours stretched interminably as they waited for their perpetually tardy sensei. Sasuke brooded by the window, a thundercloud in human form. Sakura alternated between attempting to engage him in conversation and shooting irritated glances at Naruto, who paced the classroom with performative impatience.

"Why is our sensei the only one who's late?" he complained, deliberately setting up the eraser trap above the door with exaggerated stealth. "The other teams are probably halfway through their first missions already!"

Sakura rolled her eyes, but Naruto caught the smallest twitch of her lips. Not quite a smile, but almost. Progress.

The door slid open, and the eraser dropped with perfect comedic timing, bouncing off a shock of gravity-defying silver hair. Dust puffed around Kakashi Hatake's masked face as he blinked his visible eye with exaggerated slowness.

"My first impression of you all" he drawled, voice a lazy baritone that hit Naruto like a physical blow, "is that you're a bunch of idiots."

The sight of his former sensei – alive, uninjured, both eyes intact, and decades younger than when Naruto had last seen him – sent a surge of emotion so powerful through Naruto's chest that he had to fake a coughing fit to cover his reaction. This was Kakashi before the Fourth Shinobi War, before becoming the Sixth Hokage, before the grey in his hair was earned rather than natural.

This was Kakashi when he was still drowning in grief and regret, hidden behind that mask of lazy indifference.

"Meet me on the roof in five minutes," Kakashi said, disappearing in a swirl of leaves before any of them could respond.

As they climbed the stairs, Naruto deliberately hung back, allowing Sasuke and Sakura to precede him. He needed these few moments to compose himself, to prepare for the next phase of this elaborate charade. The rooftop was bathed in afternoon sunlight, the village spread below them in a panorama of red roofs and green trees. Kakashi leaned against the railing, orange book in hand, the picture of disinterest.

"Alright," he said without looking up, "let's get to know each other. Names, likes, dislikes, hobbies, dreams for the future. The usual boring stuff."

Sakura blinked. "Maybe you should go first, sensei, to show us how it's done."

"Me? I'm Kakashi Hatake. Things I like and things I hate I don't feel like telling you that. My dreams for the future never really thought about it. As for my hobbies I have lots of hobbies."

The non-answer was so quintessentially Kakashi that Naruto had to bite back a laugh. Some things truly never changed.

When his turn came, Naruto launched into an enthusiastic speech about ramen, training, and his dream to become Hokage. The words flowed easily, a script he knew by heart, though he deliberately tempered the childishness, allowing hints of genuine determination to surface.

"and I'm gonna make everyone in this village acknowledge me, believe it!" he finished, adjusting his headband with practiced swagger.

Kakashi's visible eye narrowed fractionally, the only indication that something in Naruto's presentation had caught his attention. Careful, Naruto warned himself. He's too perceptive. Don't show your hand yet.

The next morning found them at Training Ground Three, stomachs growling from their forced fast, as Kakashi dangled two small bells before them.

"Your task is simple," he explained, eye crinkling in a smile that promised suffering. "Get these bells from me before noon. Whoever doesn't get a bell fails and goes back to the Academy. Oh, and come at me with the intent to kill, or you won't stand a chance."

The test – designed to pit them against each other while secretly evaluating their capacity for teamwork – unfolded with familiar beats. Sasuke hid himself with skill that would have impressed Naruto if he hadn't witnessed the heights the Uchiha would eventually reach. Sakura concealed herself adequately, if not brilliantly. And Naruto

Naruto stood in the middle of the clearing, hands on his hips, grinning like a lunatic.

"You know," he called to Kakashi, who hadn't bothered to look up from his book, "for a test about getting bells, you sure made it complicated."

The jonin's visible eyebrow rose fractionally. "Oh? How do you figure?"

"Well," Naruto rocked back on his heels, "three genin against an elite jonin? With two bells for three people? It's almost like you want us to fight each other instead of you."

That got Kakashi's attention. The book lowered slightly, his eye fixing on Naruto with new assessment. "Interesting theory."

"Plus, when have you ever heard of a three-person team becoming two? That's not a thing." Naruto shrugged elaborately. "So either you're testing something else, or the village suddenly got really bad at math."

A rustle in the bushes to his left told him Sasuke was listening, his curiosity momentarily overriding his loner instincts. Good.

"Maybe," Naruto continued conversationally, edging closer to where he sensed Sakura hiding, "the real test is if we're smart enough to work together. You know, like actual teammates instead of academy brats fighting over toys."

Kakashi's book snapped shut. "You seem awfully confident for someone who was dead last in his class."

"Yeah, well," Naruto grinned, scratching the back of his head, "I've got hidden depths. And friends in these bushes who might want to prove we're more than the sum of our parts. Right, guys?"

He shot a meaningful look toward both hiding spots, silently pleading. Come on. Trust me.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, with a rustle of leaves, Sasuke emerged, eyes narrowed with suspicion but body language indicating reluctant consideration.

"The dobe's right," he said grudgingly. "This setup is suspicious."

Sakura followed, hesitant but unwilling to be left behind when both boys were out in the open. "A teamwork test?" she murmured, brow furrowed as she pieced it together. "That actually makes sense."

Kakashi's visible eye widened fractionally, betraying genuine surprise before his mask of boredom slid back into place. "Well, well. Interesting hypothesis. Care to test it?"

"With pleasure." Naruto's fingers formed a familiar cross seal. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

A dozen clones burst into existence, charging Kakashi with coordinated attacks that served perfectly as distraction. Meanwhile, the real Naruto grabbed both his teammates by the wrist, pulling them into a hasty huddle.

"Sasuke, you're our best at taijutsu and ninjutsu. Sakura, you've got the brains. I've got stamina for days and can make basically infinite distractions. We hit him together, different angles, keep him off balance."

To his shock and delight, neither argued. Perhaps they were simply too stunned by this sudden display of strategic thinking from the class clown, or perhaps the logic was too sound to dispute. Either way, when Naruto extended his hand, palm down, Sakura placed hers on top with only a moment's hesitation. After a beat that stretched like taffy, Sasuke added his, mouth set in a determined line.

"For the bells," he muttered.

"For our team," Naruto corrected, and something flashed in Sasuke's dark eyes – surprise, curiosity, maybe even the faintest spark of respect.

What followed was a masterclass in genin coordination that left Kakashi visibly impressed despite himself. Sasuke's fire jutsu herded their sensei into Sakura's cleverly laid trap, while Naruto's clones attacked from every angle, preventing escape. Though they didn't actually manage to grab the bells – Kakashi was still leagues beyond them in skill – they came close enough to prove their point.

When noon arrived, they stood before their sensei, breathing hard but united in a way they hadn't been the first time around. Kakashi studied them with his hands in his pockets, head tilted in consideration.

"Well," he finally said, "this is unexpected."

"Did we pass?" Sakura asked, shoving sweat-dampened pink hair from her forehead.

"You didn't get the bells."

"But we figured out the real test," Naruto countered, blue eyes gleaming with challenge. "Teamwork. That's what you were looking for, right? Not individual skill, but how we function together."

Kakashi's mask shifted, hinting at the smile beneath. "In the ninja world, those who break the rules are scum," he recited, "but those who abandon their teammates are worse than scum. That is my belief." His eye crinkled. "And apparently, it's yours as well. Congratulations, Team Seven. You pass."

The surge of victory, though anticipated, was no less sweet. Sakura squealed with delight, pumping her fist in the air in a gesture so uncharacteristically uninhibited that Naruto couldn't help but grin. Even Sasuke allowed himself a smirk of satisfaction, the closest thing to happiness Naruto had seen on his face in this timeline.

"We did it!" Naruto whooped, throwing an arm around each teammate's shoulders before they could dodge. "Team Seven is officially born!"

To his surprise, neither shrugged him off immediately. Sakura even gave his arm a quick squeeze before stepping away, her smile soft with newfound camaraderie. Sasuke tolerated the contact for three whole seconds before extracting himself with a grunt that contained less disdain than usual.

Progress. Real progress.

As they gathered their gear and prepared to leave the training ground, Naruto hung back, watching his teammates. Sakura chattering excitedly about their strategy, Sasuke offering monosyllabic responses that nevertheless engaged rather than dismissed her. The first tender shoots of bonds that would, with proper nurturing, grow into the unbreakable connections he remembered.

Kakashi appeared at his side, silent as a shadow. "That was quite the speech about teamwork," he remarked casually. "Almost like you knew exactly what I was testing."

Naruto shrugged, keeping his expression deliberately innocent. "Just a lucky guess."

"Hmm." The jonin's visible eye studied him with unsettling intensity. "And those shadow clones? That's a jonin-level technique. Not something academy students typically master overnight."

"I'm a fast learner."

"Apparently." Kakashi didn't sound convinced. "You know, Naruto, you're not quite what your file suggested you'd be."

Naruto met his gaze steadily. "Maybe the file was wrong. Or maybe I'm just full of surprises."

"Indeed." Kakashi's eye crinkled in what might have been amusement or suspicion. "Well, keep surprising me, and we might make a decent shinobi out of you yet."

As their sensei strolled away with feigned nonchalance, Naruto allowed himself a small, private smile. The seeds were planted. Team Seven was forming stronger and faster than before. The bonds that would ultimately save or doom the shinobi world were taking root.

But as he watched Sasuke's retreating back, the Uchiha crest stark against dark blue fabric, Naruto felt the weight of his knowledge press down like a physical burden. Somewhere out there, Itachi wandered in exile, bearing the unbearable burden of his clan's massacre. Orochimaru plotted his invasion of Konoha. Akatsuki gathered in shadows, their eyes already fixed on the jinchūriki scattered throughout the nations.

So many threats, so many tragedies waiting to unfold. So many precious people he needed to save.

Naruto adjusted his headband, determination hardening his features as he jogged to catch up with his teammates. This time would be different. This time, he'd protect them all.

"Hey, who wants to get ramen?" he called, injecting cheer into his voice. "First meal as an official team! Kakashi-sensei's treating!"

The distant "I most certainly am not" floated back to them on the breeze, prompting Sakura's laugh – a bright, clear sound that sent a pulse of hope through Naruto's chest.

Yes. This time would be different. This time, they'd get it right.

Sunlight flashed off the surface of puddles that shouldn't exist.

Naruto's eyes locked onto them instantly—small mirrors reflecting a cloudless sky, scattered innocuously along a bone-dry road on a day that hadn't seen rain in weeks. The Demon Brothers, lying in wait. Last time, he'd frozen, paralyzed by fear and inexperience. This time, adrenaline surged through him, not from fear but from anticipation.

"Tch," he muttered under his breath, adjusting his pack with deliberate casualness while shooting a meaningful glance at Kakashi, who walked several paces ahead. The jonin's posture remained lazy, his visible eye half-lidded, but Naruto caught the infinitesimal nod that acknowledged the silent warning.

Team Seven had been escorting Tazuna for nearly half a day, their footsteps kicking up dust along the road to the Land of Waves. Naruto had spent every second hyperaware, cataloging landmarks and calculating timing, mentally mapping the sequence of events that had changed his life the first time around.

The bridge builder trudged ahead, sake flask glinting in the sunlight. Sakura stifled a yawn. Sasuke scanned their surroundings with the wary vigilance of someone expecting trouble but not knowing from where it would come.

Naruto knew exactly where. And when. And how.

As they approached the puddles, he deliberately slowed his pace, letting Sasuke draw ahead. Five steps. Four. Three. The sharp tang of metal and sweat hit his nostrils—scents his childish senses had missed the first time but that his battle-trained mind now registered instantly.

Two. One.

The water erupted.

Chain-linked assassins burst from their liquid disguise, metal claws gleaming with poisoned tips as they launched toward Kakashi. Their movements seemed almost laughably slow to Naruto's experienced eyes, telegraphing every strike with the clumsy brutality of low-level mercenaries.

"Kakashi-sensei!" Sakura's scream tore through the air as the chains wrapped around their teacher, shredding his body into bloody chunks.

A substitution jutsu, of course, but Naruto couldn't wait for Kakashi's test of their abilities this time. Too much rode on changing this encounter—setting the dominoes in a new pattern.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!" he barked, hands forming seals with practiced precision. Six clones materialized around him in perfect formation, moving with coordinated efficiency that no fresh genin should possess.

The Demon Brothers hesitated for a crucial half-second, thrown by the unexpected technique and the sudden multiplication of targets. It was all the advantage Naruto needed.

Two clones dove low, sweeping at the assassins' legs while another pair launched kunai that severed the chain connecting them with surgical precision. The remaining two attacked from the flanks, driving the brothers apart with coordinated strikes.

"Sasuke, left! Sakura, protect Tazuna!" Naruto shouted, voice carrying the easy command of a battlefield veteran.

To his surprise, Sasuke responded instantly, no questions or hesitation, as though something in Naruto's tone cut through his usual resistance to taking orders. The Uchiha prodigy darted forward, executing a flawless counter to the left brother's desperate claw strike.

Naruto took the right, dodging a poison-tipped swipe by a hair's breadth—not from lack of skill but from deliberate calculation. He needed to appear skilled but not impossibly so. His fist connected with the assassin's solar plexus, a precise strike that emptied his lungs in a single whoosh.

As the Demon Brother doubled over, Naruto delivered an uppercut that sent him sprawling, unconscious before he hit the dirt.

Ten seconds from attack to victory. Last time, it had taken them minutes of panicked scrambling.

Silence fell over the road, broken only by the harsh breathing of his teammates. Naruto straightened, brushing dust from his jumpsuit with exaggerated nonchalance while his mind raced. Had he shown too much? Not enough? Would this change—

"Well, that was unexpectedly efficient."

Kakashi materialized from the treeline, visible eye curved in what might have been a smile or a frown beneath his mask. His tone was light, but Naruto caught the razor edge of suspicion beneath it.

"You're alive!" Sakura exclaimed, relief flooding her face.

"Of course," Kakashi replied, gaze sliding from the unconscious assassins to Naruto. "Though I'd planned to observe longer to see how you'd handle the situation. Seems I needn't have worried."

Sasuke crossed his arms, scrutinizing Naruto with narrowed eyes. "Where did you learn that clone technique? And how did you notice them before any of us?"

"Puddles on a dry day?" Naruto shrugged, falling back on his practiced role of intuitive but unpolished shinobi. "Kinda suspicious, y'know? And the clone thing—" he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, "—I've been practicing like crazy since graduation."

Sakura's gaze darted between the brothers and their teacher. "Kakashi-sensei, those men they were after you, weren't they?"

"No," Kakashi said, turning to their client with dangerous calm. "They were after him."

Tazuna shrank under the jonin's penetrating stare, sake flask suddenly forgotten at his side. The confrontation unfolded as Naruto remembered—Tazuna's confession about Gato, the bridge, the poverty of Wave Country, and the mission's true difficulty.

"We should go back," Sakura said, uncertainty bleeding into her voice. "This is beyond a C-rank mission. We're not ready."

"I am," Sasuke stated flatly, challenge glinting in his dark eyes.

Naruto's heart thundered in his chest. This was it—the moment that had defined Team Seven, forged their bonds in the crucible of shared danger. The mission that had awakened his ninja way.

"Me too," he declared, injecting his voice with a determination that was anything but false. "I'm not running away. That's not my ninja way!"

The words echoed across time, spoken first in childish bravado, now repeated with the weight of a lifetime's commitment behind them. Kakashi studied them all, measuring their resolve with the calculating eye of a commander who had led shinobi to both victory and death.

"Very well," he finally said. "We continue to Wave Country."

Mist clung to the shore of Wave Country like a funeral shroud, transforming familiar shapes into spectral silhouettes. The ferryman's oar cut silently through gray water as he guided them toward land, tension coiling around the small boat like a physical presence.

Naruto sat rigid at the bow, every sense stretched to its limit. Soon. It would happen soon.

The great, unfinished bridge loomed overhead, its skeletal structure reaching toward the mainland like a desperate hand seeking salvation. Tazuna gazed up at it with fierce pride tinged with fear, the monument to his defiance against Gato's stranglehold on his homeland.

"We're almost there," the ferryman whispered, voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of water against wood.

They disembarked in tense silence, the mist swallowing the boat as it retreated. Naruto counted steps in his head as they proceeded inland, anticipation building with each footfall. Three hundred and twelve steps from the shore. That was where Zabuza had—

A white blur shot through the underbrush to their right.

"Get down!" Kakashi bellowed, already moving.

Naruto dropped, pulling Tazuna with him before the old man could react. The massive blade scythed through the space where their heads had been, embedding itself in a tree trunk with a meaty thunk. A dark figure materialized atop it, muscular and menacing, face half-wrapped in bandages that failed to conceal his predatory smile.

"Well, well," the figure growled, voice like gravel over steel. "If it isn't Kakashi of the Sharingan."

Naruto's grip on his kunai tightened as memories crashed over him—Zabuza Momochi, the Demon of the Hidden Mist. His first true battle. The shinobi who had inadvertently taught him about the harsh reality of the ninja world and the power of bonds.

A shinobi who had died with regret in his eyes, snow falling on a bridge stained with his blood.

"Protect Tazuna," Kakashi ordered, lifting his headband to reveal the swirling red Sharingan beneath. "This one's on a different level."

Mist thickened around them, unnatural and chakra-laden, reducing visibility to arm's length. Killing intent saturated the air, so thick it seemed to crystallize with each breath. Sasuke trembled beside Naruto, kunai wavering in his grip as Zabuza's disembodied voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere.

"Eight points," the voice hissed. "Larynx, spine, lungs, liver, jugular, subclavian artery, kidneys, heart. Which vital organ do you want struck first?"

Sasuke's trembling intensified, the weight of impending death pressing down on him with suffocating force. In their first life, Naruto had been equally terrified, equally paralyzed. This time, he reached out and gripped Sasuke's shoulder, blue eyes meeting black with steady resolve.

"Breathe," he commanded, voice low but firm. "He's trying to break us with fear. Don't let him."

Something flickered in Sasuke's eyes—surprise, confusion, then a grudging flicker of determination. His hand steadied, kunai held in proper defensive position as color returned to his bloodless face.

"Touching," Zabuza's voice mocked from the mist. "But futile."

The attack came without warning, the Demon of the Mist materializing within their defensive formation, massive blade already swinging toward Tazuna's unprotected back. Time seemed to slow as Naruto's combat-honed instincts took over.

Last time, Kakashi had saved them, barely. This time

Naruto moved, faster than any genin had right to be, body twisted between Tazuna and certain death. Chakra surged through his arm as he raised his kunai, reinforcing the small blade with energy as he'd learned to do decades in a future that hadn't happened yet.

Metal met metal with a sound like thunder, sparks flying as Zabuza's momentum carried his blade into Naruto's kunai. The clash sent shockwaves up Naruto's arm, threatening to shatter bone, but he held firm, feet skidding back several inches from the force.

Zabuza's eyes widened, genuine surprise breaking through his murderous facade. "What the—"

Kakashi's counterattack interrupted whatever he'd been about to say, driving the assassin back into the mist. The battle between jonin erupted with devastating force—trees shattered, water clones burst, and killing intent saturated the air like a physical weight.

"Naruto," Sakura breathed, green eyes wide with disbelief, "how did you—"

"Lucky timing," he shrugged, ignoring the tremor in his overtaxed arm. "Stick to the plan. Protect Tazuna."

The battle unfolded with brutal efficiency—Kakashi trapped in Zabuza's water prison, his desperate order for them to flee, and Naruto's refusal to abandon their teacher. But unlike last time, there was no panicked scrambling, no desperate gambles with shadow clones.

Instead, Naruto orchestrated their counterattack with quiet authority, positioning Sasuke for maximum effectiveness while creating just enough clones to free Kakashi without revealing the full extent of his capabilities.

When Zabuza fell, neck punctured by senbon needles thrown by a masked hunter-nin perched in a nearby tree, Naruto's heart clenched with painful familiarity. Haku. The boy with the gentle soul and unwavering loyalty. The first person to ask if Naruto had precious people to protect.

"Thank you for your assistance," the masked figure called down, voice soft and androgynous. "I've been tracking Zabuza for weeks."

As Haku collected Zabuza's seemingly lifeless body, disappearing into the trees, Naruto stared after them with a maelstrom of emotions churning in his chest. Last time, he hadn't recognized the deception until it was too late. This time, the weight of foreknowledge pressed down on him like a physical burden.

I can save you both, he silently promised their retreating forms. This time will be different.

Kakashi collapsed from chakra exhaustion, right on schedule. As they carried their sensei to Tazuna's house, Sasuke fell into step beside Naruto, dark eyes calculating.

"That move earlier," he said quietly. "Blocking Zabuza's sword. That wasn't luck."

Naruto measured his response carefully. Too much honesty would raise impossible questions; too little would squander the fragile respect he'd earned.

"When you've got nothing and nobody," he finally replied, "you learn to react fast or you don't survive."

Something shifted in Sasuke's expression—not quite understanding, but perhaps the beginning of it. "Hn," was all he said, but he stayed at Naruto's side the rest of the journey, their shadows stretching together across the misty ground.

"Again," Kakashi instructed from where he leaned on his crutches, visible eye tracking their progress up the massive trees. "Focus your chakra more precisely at the point of contact."

Sasuke grunted in frustration as he slashed another mark into the trunk, several meters higher than his previous attempt but still far from the top. Beside him, Sakura had already mastered the exercise, sitting smugly on a high branch as she watched her teammates struggle.

Naruto deliberately marked his tree just below Sasuke's highest mark, maintaining the illusion of marginally inferior skill while carefully gauging his teammate's progress. In their first life, this exercise had sparked their rivalry and, eventually, a grudging respect. This time, he needed to accelerate that bond without arousing suspicion.

When Sasuke stalked off for a water break, Naruto approached cautiously, feigning hesitation.

"Hey," he called, rubbing the back of his head, "could you maybe give me a tip? You're getting higher than me."

Sasuke paused, water flask halfway to his lips, surprise evident in the slight widening of his eyes. Last time, Naruto had sent Sakura to ask on his behalf, too proud to seek help directly. This small change—swallowing his pride, acknowledging Sasuke's superior skill—caused a ripple in their established dynamic.

For several long seconds, Sasuke said nothing, suspicion warring with something else on his normally impassive face. Finally, he lowered the flask.

"You're using too much chakra," he said flatly. "It's not about force. It's about precision."

Naruto nodded eagerly, as though this was revolutionary information rather than a basic principle he'd mastered decades ago. "Precision. Got it. Thanks!"

As he turned to go, Sasuke's voice stopped him. "That thing you did, with the clones against Zabuza. It was not completely useless."

Coming from Sasuke, this constituted effusive praise. Naruto grinned over his shoulder. "Your fireball technique was pretty awesome too. We make a decent team, y'know?"

Sasuke's expression shuttered, but not before Naruto caught the flicker of uncertain agreement in his eyes. Another small change, another ripple in the timeline. Whether it would grow into a wave remained to be seen.

The week passed in focused training, Naruto carefully moderating his progress to stay just behind Sasuke while simultaneously pushing his teammate to greater heights. By the fifth day, they raced each other to the treetops, collapsing side by side on the highest branches, breathing hard under a star-strewn sky.

"Why do you work so hard?" Sasuke asked suddenly, voice uncharacteristically thoughtful in the darkness.

Naruto's breath caught. This conversation hadn't happened in their first life, the timeline already shifting in subtle but significant ways.

"To protect my precious people," he answered, the words coming easily because they were true, had always been true, across lifetimes and dimensions.

"You don't have any family," Sasuke pointed out bluntly.

"Family isn't just blood," Naruto replied, thinking of all those he'd come to call family in a future now unwritten. "It's the bonds we choose. The people who see us—really see us—and stay anyway." He turned his head, meeting Sasuke's gaze directly. "You, Sakura, Kakashi-sensei, Iruka-sensei. You're my precious people now."

Something complicated moved across Sasuke's face—discomfort, disbelief, and beneath it all, a hunger so profound it seemed to eclipse his features. The hunger of a boy who had lost everything and convinced himself he needed nothing.

"That's naive," Sasuke finally said, but the edge in his voice had dulled.

"Maybe," Naruto conceded, turning back to the stars. "But it's my ninja way."

They descended in companionable silence, the space between them charged with unspoken understanding. Another ripple, another change in the pattern. Naruto could only hope it would be enough.

Morning mist clung to the massive bridge like spectral fingers, obscuring the far end where construction abruptly halted. Tazuna's workers moved like shadows through the gray haze, the rhythmic clang of their tools muffled by the thick air. Team Seven maintained their defensive formation around the bridge builder, tension coiling tighter with each passing minute.

Today. It would happen today.

Naruto's hands trembled slightly, not from fear but from the crushing weight of what was to come. Zabuza and Haku. The battle that had awakened his powers and shaped his ninja way. The deaths that had haunted him for years afterward.

Deaths he intended to prevent this time.

"Naruto," Kakashi murmured, visible eye trained on the mist, "you seem distracted."

"Just thinking about what's at stake," he replied honestly, adjusting his kunai grip. "For Tazuna and this village."

Kakashi's penetrating gaze lingered a moment longer before returning to the bridge. "Stay alert. I have a feeling—"

The mist thickened suddenly, unnatural and chakra-laden, swirling around them with predatory intent. The construction sounds ceased, replaced by heavy thuds as bodies hit the ground.

"They're here," Sasuke breathed, dropping into defensive stance.

"Protect Tazuna," Kakashi ordered, lifting his headband to reveal the Sharingan. "And watch for the hunter-nin. He's working with Zabuza."

"How did you—" Sakura began, then fell silent as seven Zabuza water clones materialized around them, identical sneers visible beneath their bandaged faces.

"Kakashi of the Sharingan," they intoned in unison, massive swords gleaming dully in the diffuse light. "Ready for round two?"

The battle erupted with savage intensity. Kakashi engaged the real Zabuza somewhere in the mist while Sasuke dispatched the water clones with newfound speed and precision, his movements fluid and confident after a week of accelerated training.

Naruto created shadow clones to reinforce their perimeter defense, all while counting seconds in his head, calculating trajectories and timing with the precision of a battlefield commander. Three minutes and forty-two seconds from initial engagement. That was when Haku had—

Ice mirrors materialized around Sasuke, a perfect dome of frozen chakra that gleamed with deadly beauty. The masked hunter-nin stepped into one as though entering water, his reflection suddenly visible in every pane.

"Sasuke!" Naruto shouted, already moving.

This part had to happen—Sasuke needed this catalyst to awaken his Sharingan. But the variables could change. The outcome could change.

Naruto dove through a gap in the mirrors just before they fully connected, rolling to his feet beside a surprised Sasuke. Last time, he'd crashed in recklessly, without plan or purpose. This time, every movement was calculated, every reaction measured.

"Two against one?" Haku's soft voice echoed through the ice dome. "It makes no difference. You cannot defeat my Crystal Ice Mirrors."

Senbon needles rained down from every direction, too fast to dodge completely. Naruto and Sasuke moved back-to-back, deflecting what they could while suffering glancing blows from the rest. Blood trickled down Naruto's cheek, warm against cold skin.

"We need to track his movements," Naruto hissed, eyes darting between mirrors. "He's fast, but not instantaneous. There's a pattern."

Sasuke grunted in acknowledgment, his breath coming in sharp bursts as the needles continued their relentless assault. Naruto felt the exact moment something changed—a subtle shift in Sasuke's chakra, a sharpening of focus as the Uchiha's vision transformed.

"I can see him," Sasuke whispered, newfound Sharingan tracking Haku's movements between mirrors. "Left, then top, then right!"

They moved in unison, anticipating rather than reacting, their coordination so seamless it seemed choreographed. Somewhere in the mist beyond their icy prison, metal clashed against metal as Kakashi and Zabuza continued their deadly dance.

"Why?" Haku suddenly asked, pausing his assault. "Why do you fight so hard for a stranger's country? For people you've never met?"

"Because it's right," Naruto answered without hesitation, memories overlapping as he relived a conversation that had shaped his entire philosophy. "Because everyone deserves a chance at freedom and happiness."

"Even at the cost of your own lives?"

"If necessary," Sasuke replied unexpectedly, crimson eyes narrowed at the masked figure. "But we don't plan on dying today."

Naruto's heart clenched at the echo of their first life, when Sasuke had indeed nearly died protecting him from Haku's attack. The moment that had awakened Naruto's rage and Kurama's chakra. The moment that couldn't happen this time if he wanted to save both Zabuza and Haku.

"You have precious people," Naruto said, locking eyes with Haku through his mask. "Zabuza is your precious person. That's why you fight. That's why you're willing to be his weapon, his tool. I understand that."

Haku went perfectly still, shock radiating from him despite the expressionless mask. "How could you possibly—"

"Because I have precious people too." Naruto took a deliberate step forward, lowering his kunai slightly. "People I'd die to protect. People I'd kill to protect. But there's another way, Haku. There's always another way."

The atmosphere inside the ice dome shifted, tension giving way to something more complicated, more fragile. Sasuke shot Naruto a questioning glance but didn't interrupt, somehow sensing the importance of this exchange.

"For someone like me, there is no other way," Haku said softly. "I am a broken tool that Zabuza-san picked up and gave purpose to. My life belongs to him."

"And what does he want?" Naruto pressed, taking another step forward. "Money from Gato? The same Gato who betrays everyone who works for him? Who's probably planning to betray Zabuza as we speak?"

Uncertainty radiated from Haku's still form. "How would you know such things?"

"Because tyrants like Gato are all the same," Naruto replied, improvising rapidly. "They use people until they're no longer useful, then discard them. Ask yourself—do you really think he's going to pay Zabuza when he could just hire more mercenaries to eliminate him after the job is done?"

The ice mirrors flickered, chakra fluctuating with Haku's confusion. Outside, the clash of weapons had ceased, replaced by the distinctive chirping of Kakashi's Chidori—the assassination technique that had killed Haku in their first life when he sacrificed himself for Zabuza.

Time was running out.

"Haku," Naruto said urgently, "Zabuza values you more than you know. Don't throw your life away for a mission that's already compromised. There are better paths for both of you."

The ice dome shattered suddenly, mirrors dissolving into glittering shards as Haku released the jutsu. "I must go to him," was all he said before vanishing into the mist.

"What was that about?" Sasuke demanded, Sharingan still swirling as he stared at Naruto.

"Hopefully, saving lives," Naruto muttered, already sprinting toward the sounds of battle. "Come on!"

They emerged from the mist to find Kakashi, hand crackling with lightning chakra, poised to strike a immobilized Zabuza. Haku stood between them, arms outstretched to intercept the fatal blow.

"STOP!" Naruto bellowed, channeling chakra into his voice with a technique he wouldn't officially learn for years.

The raw command froze everyone in tableau—Kakashi's Chidori still buzzing inches from Haku's chest, Zabuza's eyes wide with something that might have been fear or shock or some unfamiliar emotion, Haku trembling but resolute in his willingness to die for his master.

"Gato is coming," Naruto continued into the stunned silence, sensing rather than seeing Sasuke and Sakura converge on his position. "He's bringing mercenaries to kill Zabuza after the fight, regardless of the outcome. He never intended to pay you."

"And how would a leaf genin know this?" Zabuza growled, though uncertainty had crept into his voice.

As if summoned by the accusation, slow applause echoed from the far end of the bridge. The mist parted to reveal a small man in an expensive suit, flanked by dozens of armed thugs whose weapons and stances marked them as hired muscle rather than trained shinobi.

"Well, well," Gato sneered, tapping his cane against the bridge surface. "The so-called Demon of the Mist, about to be skewered like a fish. How convenient for me."

Zabuza's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What is this, Gato?"

"Business, of course." The shipping magnate's smile was all teeth and no warmth. "You ninja are so expensive, and frankly, damaged goods at this point. These gentlemen behind me work for much less, especially when all they need to do is clean up what's left after you've weakened each other."

Killing intent radiated from Zabuza in waves so tangible they seemed to distort the air around him. "You intended to betray me from the start."

"Obviously." Gato adjusted his glasses with manicured fingers. "It's just good business sense. Why pay premium rates when discount thugs can finish the job?"

Naruto stepped forward, positioning himself between the two factions—Konoha shinobi behind him, Zabuza and Haku to his right, Gato and his mercenaries ahead. This was the fulcrum point, the moment where everything could change.

"Seems like you've got a new enemy, Zabuza," he called over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Gato. "Wanna team up?"

A heartbeat of silence, stretched to breaking. Then, incredibly, Zabuza laughed—a harsh, rusted sound like a blade being drawn from a long-unused sheath.

"The brat's got a point," he growled, hefting his massive sword despite his injuries. "My contract's apparently been terminated. And I do hate being double-crossed."

"Zabuza-san," Haku murmured, relief evident in his voice.

Kakashi lowered his lightning-charged hand cautiously, visible eye darting between Zabuza and Gato. "A temporary alliance, then?"

"Very temporary," Zabuza confirmed, bloodlust radiating from him in palpable waves. "Just long enough to separate that little rat from his head."

Gato's smug expression faltered, fear bleeding into his features as he recognized his miscalculation. "Kill them all!" he shrieked, backing away as his mercenaries surged forward.

What followed was less a battle than a slaughter. Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura handled the outlying thugs with coordinated efficiency while Kakashi cut through the main force like a scythe through wheat. But it was Zabuza who carved the most dramatic path, his massive sword cleaving through mercenaries with brutal precision as he made his inexorable way toward Gato.

When the shipping magnate finally fell, gurgling his last breath through a severed throat, an eerie silence descended over the bridge. Bodies littered the concrete, blood mingling with mist as the survivors converged at the center.

Zabuza leaned heavily on his sword, fresh wounds adding to those Kakashi had inflicted earlier. Haku hovered at his side, mask discarded to reveal the delicate features Naruto remembered from another lifetime.

"What now?" Zabuza rasped, eyeing Kakashi warily across the bloodstained concrete.

"That depends," the copy-nin replied, lowering his headband over his Sharingan. "Our mission was to protect Tazuna until the bridge is complete. If you're no longer targeting him"

"My contract died with Gato," Zabuza confirmed, wincing as he shifted his weight. "No pay, no prey."

Naruto stepped forward, heart hammering against his ribs. This was it—the divergence point, the moment that hadn't existed in their first life. The chance to save two souls who had profoundly impacted his ninja way.

"You could stay," he suggested, pouring conviction into his voice. "Help protect the bridge until it's complete. Wave Country would owe you a debt, give you sanctuary."

"Why would a rouge ninja want sanctuary in this backwater?" Zabuza scoffed, though something flickered in his eyes—a weariness, perhaps, or a longing so deeply buried he himself might not recognize it.

"Because running gets old," Naruto said quietly, blue eyes locked on Zabuza's with an understanding no child should possess. "Because always looking over your shoulder, always being hunted, always being alone except for one precious person—it hollows you out eventually."

Zabuza stared at him, suspicion warring with something more complex on his bandaged face. "You talk like an old man, not a genin brat."

"I see things clearly sometimes," Naruto shrugged, forcing nonchalance he didn't feel. "And I see two shinobi who could do more than just kill for money."

"Zabuza-san," Haku interjected softly, dark eyes reflecting emotions too complicated to name. "Perhaps perhaps we could consider it. Just until your wounds heal."

The Demon of the Mist remained silent for a long moment, calculating eyes moving from Kakashi to Naruto to the bodies scattered across the bridge. Finally, he drove his sword into the concrete with a decisive thunk.

"Until the bridge is complete," he growled, the concession clearly costing him. "Then we decide."

Relief crashed through Naruto with such force he nearly staggered. They weren't saved yet, but they were alive—a dramatic deviation from the timeline he remembered, where both had died on this bridge in a tragedy that had shaped his understanding of the shinobi world.

"Good call," he managed, grinning through the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. "I think you'll find Wave Country pretty grateful to the guys who killed their oppressor."

As they helped clear the bridge of bodies, the mist finally lifting to reveal blue sky above, Naruto felt Kurama stir within him—the first conscious movement from the Nine-Tails since their confrontation weeks ago.

You've changed things, kit, the fox rumbled in his mind, voice thoughtful rather than threatening. The ripples are becoming waves.

That's the idea, Naruto replied silently. Save those who can be saved. Change what needs changing.

And if these changes lead to worse outcomes? If saving these two alters events in ways you cannot predict?

The question struck at the heart of Naruto's fears, the doubt that plagued him in quiet moments. By saving Zabuza and Haku, what else might he be changing? What butterfly effect might he be triggering that could lead to disaster down the line?

I have to believe it's worth the risk, he finally answered. Otherwise, what's the point of this second chance?

Kurama's chuckle reverberated through his mindscape. Interesting times ahead, kit. Interesting times indeed.

As Team Seven and their unlikely allies returned to Tazuna's house, the setting sun painted the unfinished bridge in hues of gold and crimson—no longer the site of tragic sacrifice but a monument to unexpected alliance and lives diverted from their ordained paths.

Naruto fell into step beside Sasuke, whose newly awakened Sharingan had faded back to obsidian black. "Nice eyes back there," he commented casually. "The Sharingan suits you."

Sasuke shot him an inscrutable look. "How did you know that ice-user was working with Zabuza? How did you know Gato would betray them?"

"Intuition," Naruto replied, the half-truth bitter on his tongue. "Some things just make sense if you pay attention."

"Hn." Sasuke's response was noncommittal, but his gaze lingered on Naruto with newfound intensity—curiosity and suspicion in equal measure. "You're different than you were at the Academy. It's like" He hesitated, searching for words. "It's like you've been wearing a mask, and it's slipping."

The observation, too perceptive by half, sent a jolt of alarm through Naruto. He forced a laugh, rubbing the back of his head in his practiced gesture of sheepishness. "Pretty sure you're the only one with a fancy eye technique around here, teme."

Sasuke didn't smile, didn't acknowledge the deflection. "Whatever game you're playing, Naruto, it's not as subtle as you think."

He quickened his pace, leaving Naruto staring after him with a knot of anxiety blooming in his chest. Sasuke was noticing too much, questioning too deeply. The changes Naruto was making—saving lives, accelerating bonds, altering the timeline—were drawing attention he couldn't afford. Not yet.

But as he watched Haku support an injured Zabuza, both alive when they should be dead, both facing futures they'd never had the chance to explore, Naruto couldn't bring himself to regret his interference.

Some risks are worth taking, he thought, quickening his step to catch up with his team—his precious people. Some lives are worth saving, no matter the cost.

Behind him, the bridge stood unfinished but unblooded, a testament to changes already made and changes yet to come. The waves were building, gaining momentum with each ripple Naruto created in the timeline.

Whether they would carry them all to safety or dash them against unforeseen rocks remained to be seen.

The Hokage Tower gleamed copper in the late afternoon sun, its shadow stretching like an accusatory finger across Konoha's rooftops. Naruto stood at its base, heart hammering against his ribs, sweat beading at his temples despite the cool breeze. Two weeks had passed since their return from Wave Country. Two weeks of nightmares about what was coming. Two weeks of deciding how much to change, how much to reveal.

Now or never, he thought, sucking in a deep breath that tasted of dust and distant cooking fires.

The ANBU guards flanking the entrance shifted imperceptibly as he approached—masks impassive yet somehow radiating skepticism at the sight of a twelve-year-old genin requesting an audience with the most powerful shinobi in the village.

"The Hokage's busy, kid," the one on the left said, voice flat and metallic behind the porcelain falcon mask.

Naruto met the hidden gaze squarely. "Tell him it's about Orochimaru."

The name crackled in the air like static electricity. The ANBU went rigid, a silent exchange passing between them before Falcon vanished in a blur of movement.

Three minutes later, Naruto stood before the Third Hokage, the familiar office wreathed in pipe smoke that curled toward the ceiling in lazy spirals. Hiruzen Sarutobi—the God of Shinobi, the Professor—looked simultaneously older and more vital than Naruto remembered. Alive. Not yet sacrificed in battle against his wayward student.

"That's quite the name to drop for an audience, Naruto." The old man's voice was sand and honey, his shrewd eyes sharp beneath the ceremonial hat. "Especially for a genin fresh from his first C-rank mission."

Naruto's fingers twitched with the urge to fidget, to slip into his old mask of brash ignorance. Instead, he straightened his spine and met the Hokage's penetrating gaze.

"He's coming, Jiji," he said, the childhood nickname slipping out unconsciously. "During the Chunin Exams. He's going to infiltrate, disguised as a competitor, and he's bringing Sound ninja with him. They're planning an invasion."

The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Sarutobi's expression didn't change, but something dangerous flickered in his eyes—a reminder that beneath the grandfatherly exterior lurked a shinobi who had survived three wars and countless assassination attempts.

"That's an extraordinary claim." The Hokage's voice had lost all warmth. "How would you know such things?"

This was the moment Naruto had rehearsed a hundred times in his mind, balancing truth against believability, revelation against consequence.

"Dreams," he said, the half-truth bitter on his tongue. "Vivid ones. Almost like memories of things that haven't happened yet. I know how it sounds, but—" He leaned forward, palms flat on the desk. "—I've been having them since before Wave Country, and they've been right every time. The Demon Brothers. Zabuza. Haku. The battle on the bridge. All of it."

"Prophetic dreams." Skepticism dripped from each syllable.

"Or something else." Naruto tapped his stomach meaningfully. "Something to do with my tenant. Kurama says—"

"Kurama?" The Hokage's pipe clattered to the desk, forgotten. "You know the Nine-Tails' name?"

Shit. A slip he couldn't afford. But there was no taking it back now.

"It told me," Naruto improvised, wincing at the clumsy explanation. "In the dreams. We talk, sometimes. It shows me things."

Sarutobi's gaze bore into him with laser intensity, probing for deception. Naruto forced himself to maintain eye contact, silently begging the old man to believe him, or at least to consider the warning.

"These dreams," the Hokage finally said, retrieving his pipe with a deliberately steady hand. "What else have they shown you?"

Relief flooded Naruto's system so intensely his knees almost buckled. "Orochimaru will attack our team in the Forest of Death. He's after Sasuke—wants to give him some kind of cursed seal. There's a Sound team working for him—they'll target Sasuke too. And during the final tournament, there's going to be a joint invasion by Sound and Sand villages."

With each revelation, the Hokage's expression grew more grave, smoke forgotten as it spiraled untouched from the pipe's bowl.

"Sand, you say? Our allies?"

"They've been manipulated," Naruto pressed. "Their Kazekage will be killed and replaced by Orochimaru in disguise. And their secret weapon is Gaara, the One-Tail jinchūriki. He's unstable, dangerous."

"And how would you prevent all this, Naruto?" Sarutobi's voice was carefully neutral, revealing nothing of his thoughts.

"Increase security during the exams," Naruto said promptly. "Have ANBU watching the Forest of Death, especially around my team. And" he hesitated, then plunged forward, "maybe assign Jiraiya to oversee the final tournament security."

The Hokage's eyebrows rose a fraction. "Jiraiya? My student is currently deep in his intelligence network. How would you know of him?"

Another misstep. Naruto scrambled for plausible deniability. "The fox showed me. In the dreams. Said he could help."

A heavy silence descended, broken only by the distant sounds of the village beyond the windows. Sarutobi studied him with unreadable eyes, thoughts locked behind decades of political poker-facing.

"I will consider your warning," he finally said, words measured and precise. "Though I find your sudden insight concerning. Perhaps I should have Inoichi Yamanaka examine these dreams of yours."

The suggestion—a mind-walk by Konoha's premier mental jutsu expert—sent ice water through Naruto's veins. If Inoichi looked into his mind, saw the lifetime of memories hidden there

"That wouldn't be good for anyone," Naruto said quickly, Kurama's chakra flaring protectively inside him. "The fox doesn't like visitors. It might react badly."

Sarutobi's eyes narrowed, but he nodded slowly. "Very well. I will investigate your claims through other channels. In the meantime, speak of this to no one. Not your teammates, not your sensei. If there is a spy network operating in Konoha, the fewer who know of our suspicions, the better."

Relief and anxiety churned in Naruto's gut as he left the tower, sunlight hitting his face with jarring normality after the intensity of the meeting. He'd planted the seed. Whether it would grow in time to change anything remained to be seen.

Was that enough? he asked Kurama silently. Did I say too much? Not enough?

The fox's rumble of contemplation vibrated through his mindscape. Time will tell, kit. But your little performance has certainly stirred the pot.

The written exam room buzzed with nervous energy, tightly wound genin from five nations perched at desks like birds of prey eyeing each other across territorial boundaries. Naruto slouched in his seat, projecting casual confidence while his mind cataloged every face.

Gaara, hollow-eyed and lethal, radiating bloodlust from his corner position.

Kabuto, playing the helpful veteran, his friendly exterior masking a heart black with Orochimaru's corruption.

The Sound team, brash and obvious, unaware they were merely pawns in their master's game.

And scattered throughout, faces both familiar and precious—comrades who had fought beside him, bled for him, died for him in a future only he remembered.

"Begin!" Ibiki Morino's command cracked through the tension, flipping the room into silent, frantic action as pencils scratched against paper.

Unlike his first time, Naruto didn't panic at the impossible questions. He wrote what he could, left blank what he couldn't, and waited for the true test to reveal itself. When Ibiki delivered his ultimatum—take the tenth question or never advance to chunin—Naruto felt a surge of nostalgic affection for the scarred interrogator.

"You think your mind games scare us?" He stood, voice ringing through the suddenly silent room, channeling not the bravado of his youth but the steady confidence of a Hokage who had faced far worse. "A real shinobi faces impossible odds every day. We make life-or-death choices that affect our teammates, our villages. If we run from a test question, how could anyone trust us with missions that matter? I'll take your question, pass or fail, because that's what being a ninja means—moving forward even when you're scared."

The speech was different from his first life—more measured, less shouting—but the effect rippled through the room just the same. Wavering genin straightened in their seats, resolve hardening in their eyes.

Ibiki's scarred face twisted into what might have been a smile. "Well said, kid. Everyone still seated passes."

The familiar revelation of the test's true purpose washed over the room, relief and excitement bubbling up as Ibiki explained the importance of information gathering and psychological resilience. Naruto let himself grin, the expression genuine despite his mental recalculation of the timeline.

One hurdle down. Next comes—

Glass shattered as a black ball crashed through the window, unfurling into a banner while a purple-haired kunoichi in a trench coat struck a dramatic pose before it.

"No time to celebrate, maggots!" Anko Mitarashi's grin was all teeth and predatory delight. "I'm Anko Mitarashi, proctor for the second exam! Follow me to Training Ground 44—or as I like to call it, the Forest of Death!"

Afternoon sunlight filtered through ancient canopies, casting dappled shadows across Team Seven as they huddled beside a massive root system, the Forest of Death looming around them in primal menace. Insects chirped and things rustled in the underbrush, promising danger from every direction.

"We need a code phrase," Sasuke murmured, dark eyes scanning their surroundings. "In case we get separated and need to confirm identities."

Naruto nodded, deliberately avoiding Sakura's gaze. In their first lifetime, he'd fumbled the passcode, setting up a chain of events that led to Orochimaru's attack and Sasuke's cursed seal. This time would be different.

"'The fire that burns brightest casts the darkest shadow,'" he suggested, the phrase simple enough for him to remember yet distinctive enough to be effective. "Anyone who can't repeat that isn't one of us."

Sasuke's eyebrow rose fractionally, surprise flickering in his eyes at Naruto's uncharacteristic eloquence. "Fine. That works."

"Our first priority is getting to the tower intact," Naruto continued, unwrapping a scroll marked with the kanji for 'earth.' "We've got one scroll. We need one heaven scroll. But there's worse than other genin in this forest."

"What do you mean?" Sakura asked, green eyes sharp with curiosity.

Naruto hesitated, balancing future knowledge against present needs. "Just a feeling. Watch for anyone who seems too strong to be a genin. Especially anyone interested in Sasuke."

The Uchiha's eyes narrowed. "Why would anyone target me specifically?"

"Your eyes," Naruto said bluntly. "The Sharingan's valuable. There are people who'd do anything to get it."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the forest's ambient sounds. Whatever Sasuke might have said next was lost as a tremendous gust of wind tore through their position, a roaring hurricane force that scattered them like leaves.

It's starting, Naruto thought grimly, tumbling through underbrush before catching himself against a tree trunk. Sooner than last time.

The forest fell unnaturally silent in the wind's wake, tension crackling through the air like invisible lightning. Naruto pushed himself upright, senses straining for any sign of his teammates or their attacker.

A rustle of movement. A flash of blue and white through the foliage. Sasuke, moving cautiously through the underbrush thirty meters to his right.

Naruto slipped through the trees like a ghost, approaching his teammate from an angle that wouldn't trigger defensive reflexes. "The fire that burns brightest casts the darkest shadow," he whispered as he drew near.

Sasuke whirled, kunai raised, then relaxed marginally. "Naruto." His eyes scanned the forest. "Sakura?"

"Haven't found her yet. That wasn't natural wind. Someone's hunting us."

"Someone hunting me, according to you," Sasuke retorted, though his posture remained alert rather than confrontational. "Care to explain that theory?"

Before Naruto could answer, a figure melted from the shadows before them—tall, slender, wrapped in the beige uniform of a Grass ninja. Long black hair framed a face that seemed oddly stretched, like skin pulled too tight over unfamiliar bones. The killing intent radiating from the figure hit like a physical wave, so thick it seemed to crystallize the air.

"My, my," the Grass ninja purred, voice slithering along Naruto's spine like ice water. "What clever little prey, finding each other so quickly."

Every instinct in Naruto's body screamed in recognition. Orochimaru. The Snake Sannin. Disguised but unmistakable to someone who had faced him across battlefields.

"Run," Naruto hissed, shoving Sasuke sideways. "NOW!"

For once, the Uchiha didn't argue. They bolted in tandem, chakra flooding their legs as they bounded through the forest at speeds no ordinary genin should manage. Behind them, laughter echoed—high and cold and utterly confident.

"You can't run from inevitability, Sasuke-kun," the voice called, seeming to come from everywhere at once. "I've waited too long for those eyes of yours."

A massive snake crashed through the canopy, jaws gaping wide enough to swallow them whole. Sasuke dodged left. Naruto went right. The serpent's head swiveled, tracking Sasuke with predatory focus.

No, Naruto thought fiercely. Not this time.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!" The forest erupted with orange as dozens of Narutos materialized, swarming the snake with kunai and explosive tags while the real Naruto darted after Sasuke.

He found his teammate pinned against a massive trunk, paralyzed by the Grass ninja's overwhelming killing intent. Orochimaru leaned in, too-long tongue flicking out like a reptile tasting fear on the air.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" Naruto roared, channeling Kurama's chakra into his voice with such force the trees around them trembled.

Orochimaru's head swiveled, yellow eyes widening fractionally in genuine surprise. "The jinchūriki," he murmured, sounding almost pleased. "How interesting."

Naruto landed between them, kunai raised in a guard position that belonged to a war veteran, not an academy graduate. "I know who you are," he growled, letting Kurama's chakra tint his eyes crimson. "Orochimaru of the Sannin. Traitor to Konoha."

The disguised Sannin's eyebrows rose, pleasure replaced by calculation. "Now that is fascinating. A mere genin who recognizes me through this disguise? Perhaps you're more valuable than I thought."

"Naruto, what the hell—" Sasuke's confused protest was cut short as Orochimaru moved with blinding speed, fingers slamming into Naruto's stomach where the seal contained Kurama.

"Five-Pronged Seal!" the Sannin hissed.

Pain exploded through Naruto's body, Kurama's chakra abruptly cut off as the foreign seal disrupted their connection. He staggered, vision blurring, dimly aware of Sasuke shouting his name.

No, no, no! Internal panic clawed at him as Orochimaru tossed him aside like garbage, turning back to Sasuke with predatory focus. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to prevent this, not fail in exactly the same way.

Through watering eyes, Naruto watched Orochimaru's neck elongate impossibly, fangs gleaming as he lunged for Sasuke's exposed neck—

A blur of pink and red slammed into the Sannin from above, a chakra-enhanced punch sending him crashing sideways into a tree trunk with a splintering crack.

"Get AWAY from them!" Sakura shouted, standing protectively before her teammates, kunai gripped in white-knuckled hands.

Orochimaru recovered with serpentine grace, an expression of bemused irritation crossing his false face. "The full set, how convenient. Though I'm afraid I don't have time for all three of you."

He blurred forward, too fast for genin eyes to track. Sakura went flying, blood spraying from her lip as she hit a tree and crumpled. Sasuke managed to dodge the first strike but caught the second, ribs cracking audibly as he was hammered into the forest floor.

Naruto struggled to his feet, chakra pathways burning from the disruptive seal, movements sluggish and uncoordinated. "Leave them alone!" he snarled, lunging forward in desperate attack.

Orochimaru caught him by the throat, lifting him effortlessly. "You know too much, little fox," he mused, studying Naruto like a particularly interesting specimen. "I wonder how"

Yellow eyes bored into blue, and Naruto felt a cold, alien presence trying to slither into his mind. He slammed mental barriers down with desperate force, techniques learned from decades of sharing headspace with Kurama.

Orochimaru's eyes widened fractionally. "Fascinating indeed. Not the time, perhaps, but I'll remember you."

He tossed Naruto aside and turned back to Sasuke, who had dragged himself upright, blood trickling from his mouth, Sharingan blazing in defiance.

"There's my prize," the Sannin purred. "Show me those eyes, Sasuke-kun."

What followed was brutal and one-sided. Sasuke fought with everything he had—fire jutsu scorching the canopy, shuriken slicing through the air with deadly precision, taijutsu executed with prodigious skill. None of it mattered. Orochimaru toyed with him, allowing just enough success to spark hope before crushing it with casual cruelty.

Naruto clawed his way across the forest floor, chakra networks still screaming from the disruptive seal, mind racing for solutions. In their first life, he'd been knocked unconscious at this point. Sakura had been frozen in fear. No one had been able to prevent what came next.

But this time

"ANBU!" he screamed, voice hoarse with desperation. "HELP! OROCHIMARU IS HERE!"

The gamble was wild, desperate—hoping beyond hope that the Hokage had taken his warning seriously enough to position ANBU in the forest. Hoping they were close enough to hear.

Orochimaru's head whipped toward him, genuine anger flashing across his features. "Enough of this," he snarled, abandoning his game with Sasuke to lunge toward Naruto.

A blur of movement. A clash of metal. A thunderous explosion of chakra.

"Sorry I'm late," drawled a familiar voice as dust cleared to reveal Kakashi standing before Naruto, Sharingan eye exposed, blocking Orochimaru's strike with a kunai that glowed white-hot with lightning chakra. "Traffic was murder."

Relief crashed through Naruto so intensely his vision swam. Behind Kakashi, shadows detached from the trees—ANBU operatives moving into flanking positions, weapons drawn against a foe even they feared.

Orochimaru's expression contorted with calculation and fury. "Kakashi of the Sharingan," he hissed. "And friends. How inconvenient."

"Surrender, Orochimaru," Kakashi said, voice deceptively light despite the killing intent rolling off him in waves. "You're outnumbered in friendly territory."

The Snake Sannin's laugh was cold and utterly without humor. "Another time, perhaps." His body seemed to melt, becoming mud-like as he sank into the forest floor. "But Sasuke-kun and I will meet again. Count on it."

The clone dissolved completely, leaving only churned earth where it had stood. Kakashi maintained his battle stance for three more heartbeats before turning to survey his battered students.

"Well," he said with forced cheerfulness, "this is a mess."

Naruto staggered to his feet, rushing to Sasuke who had collapsed against a tree trunk, breathing labored from cracked ribs. "Is he gone? Really gone?"

"For now," Kakashi confirmed, gesturing for an ANBU with a bird mask to check on Sakura. "Though I suspect it was a clone all along. The real Orochimaru wouldn't retreat so easily, even against these odds."

"How did you know?" Sasuke demanded, wincing as he shifted position. "How did any of you know who he was, what he wanted?"

Kakashi's eye slid to Naruto, calculating and curious. "Let's just say we had intelligence suggesting he might make an appearance during the exams. Though I'm curious how you knew, Naruto."

Think fast. "The way he moved," Naruto improvised. "The killing intent. It wasn't genin-level. And then when he used that weird neck-stretching thing I remembered reading about Orochimaru in a book." The lie was paper-thin, but it was all he had.

"A book." Kakashi's tone was flat with disbelief. "You. Reading a book about S-rank missing-nin."

Naruto bristled with genuine indignation. "I read! Sometimes. When it's interesting."

The ANBU with Sakura straightened. "She's concussed but stable. The Uchiha has three cracked ribs and chakra exhaustion."

"And Naruto?" Kakashi asked.

"Disrupted chakra pathways from a Five-Pronged Seal overlaying the original containment seal. It will need to be removed by a seal master."

Kakashi nodded, visible eye surveying the destruction around them—shattered trees, scorched earth, blood-spattered foliage. "The exam is over for you three. We're getting you to the hospital."

"But—" Sasuke began to protest.

"Non-negotiable," Kakashi cut him off. "You've survived an encounter with one of Konoha's most dangerous missing-nin. Consider that achievement enough for one day."

As ANBU medics stabilized Sakura and Sasuke for transport, Kakashi pulled Naruto aside, voice dropping to a murmur too low for others to hear.

"The Hokage wants to speak with you. Alone. When you're cleared medically."

Naruto swallowed hard, nodding. "I figured he might."

"Whatever game you're playing, Naruto," Kakashi said, visible eye sharp with assessment, "it's attracted dangerous attention. I hope you know what you're doing."

The truth was, Naruto wasn't sure anymore. He'd tried to change things, to prevent Sasuke receiving the curse mark that would eventually drive him from the village. Instead, he'd revealed too much knowledge, drawn Orochimaru's interest to himself, and still failed to protect his team.

The ripples are becoming waves, Kurama had said. But were they waves that would wash them to safety, or drown them all?

The preliminary tournament arena echoed with the clash of combat and ragged cheers from the remaining genin teams. Two weeks had passed since the Forest of Death. Two weeks of hospital recovery, ANBU interrogation, and hushed, urgent meetings with the Hokage who now knew far more than Naruto had ever intended to reveal.

"I still don't understand why we're allowed to compete," Sakura murmured, leaning against the railing beside Naruto as they watched Ino battle a female Sound ninja below. "After what happened in the forest"

"Politics," Sasuke grunted from Naruto's other side, dark eyes tracking every movement of the combatants with his newly-awakened Sharingan. "Konoha can't admit Orochimaru infiltrated the exam without causing an international incident."

He wasn't wrong. The official story claimed Team Seven had encountered a powerful impostor using forbidden techniques, not a legendary Sannin intent on marking Sasuke as his next vessel. Only those at the highest levels knew the truth—that Orochimaru walked free in the village, that an invasion was potentially imminent.

"At least we qualified on a technicality," Naruto said, wincing as Ino took a punishing blow that sent her skidding across the arena floor. "Though I'm not sure any of us are in top form."

His own body still occasionally seized with phantom pain where Jiraiya had removed Orochimaru's Five-Pronged Seal. The Toad Sage's arrival in the village—ostensibly for routine intelligence reporting—had been suspiciously well-timed, almost as if someone had suggested his presence might be needed.

Below, Ino locked the Sound kunoichi in her mind-transfer jutsu, forcing a forfeit that sent Shikamaru's eyebrows shooting up in grudging approval. As medics cleared the floor for the next match, the electronic board flickered through names before settling on:

UZUMAKI NARUTO vs. INUZUKA KIBA

"Finally!" Kiba whooped from across the arena, Akamaru yipping excitedly atop his head. "We got the class clown, Akamaru! Easy win!"

Naruto pushed away from the railing, muscles coiled with anticipation. In their first lifetime, he'd won this match through a combination of dumb luck and sheer stubbornness. This time, he had decades of combat experience locked in his mind, even if his body couldn't fully execute it.

"Don't underestimate him," he heard Hinata whisper to her teammate as he passed. "Naruto-kun is stronger than he appears."

The shy vote of confidence warmed his chest as he descended the stairs to the arena floor. Across from him, Kiba swaggered forward, canine confidence in every line of his body.

"No hard feelings when this is over, dead last," the Inuzuka called, sharp teeth gleaming in a feral grin.

Naruto rolled his shoulders, settling into a ready stance that was deliberately unpolished but fundamentally sound. "Just don't cry when you lose, dog breath."

Hayate Gekkō, the sickly proctor, raised his hand between them. "Begin!"

Kiba launched forward with explosive speed, clawed fingers aimed at Naruto's throat in a strike that would have ended the match instantly if it connected. In their first life, Naruto had barely dodged it.

This time, he simply wasn't there.

Naruto sidestepped with fluid grace, redirecting Kiba's momentum with a subtle push that sent the Inuzuka stumbling past him. Before Kiba could recover, Naruto's foot swept out, catching his ankle and dumping him unceremoniously to the floor.

"What the—" Kiba scrambled up, confusion and anger warring on his face. "Lucky dodge!"

"Probably," Naruto agreed amiably, settling back into his ready stance. "Try again?"

Frustration clouded Kiba's tactical judgment—exactly as Naruto had intended. The Inuzuka charged again, this time with Akamaru at his side, the pair coordinating their attacks with practiced precision.

"Fang Over Fang!" Kiba bellowed, both he and his transformed partner spinning into whirlwind attacks that tore through the arena floor as Naruto danced between them.

To the observers, it must have looked like incredible luck or intuition. In reality, it was the muscle memory of a man who had fought enemies far more dangerous than an impulsive genin with a dog.

"Stand still, damn it!" Kiba snarled, chest heaving from exertion as the technique ended.

"Not really how fighting works," Naruto pointed out, still maddeningly unscathed.

Fury overtook strategy as Kiba charged one final time, techniques abandoned in favor of raw aggression. It was the opening Naruto had been waiting for. He stepped inside Kiba's guard, redirected a wild punch, and delivered a single, precise strike to the solar plexus that folded the Inuzuka like wet paper.

As Kiba gasped for breath on his knees, Naruto placed a kunai gently against his throat. "Yield?"

Rage and humiliation warred in Kiba's eyes, but survival instinct won out. "I yield," he croaked.

"Winner: Uzumaki Naruto!" Hayate announced, surprise evident even in his sickly voice.

The arena fell silent, stunned by the ease with which the supposed dead last had dismantled one of the clan-trained genin. As Naruto climbed the stairs back to the observation deck, he felt the weight of evaluating gazes—from Kakashi, whose visible eye had narrowed to a calculating slit; from Sasuke, whose Sharingan activated briefly to replay Naruto's movements; from the Hokage himself, who watched from the officials' box with unreadable intensity.

"That was impressive," Sakura offered as he rejoined them at the railing.

Sasuke said nothing, but his silence held a new quality—not dismissal but reassessment, as though pieces of a puzzle were slowly falling into place.

The remaining matches unfolded with subtle differences from the timeline Naruto remembered. Hinata fought with marginally more confidence against Neji, though the outcome remained painfully the same. Gaara's bloodlust seemed somewhat tempered, allowing his opponent to surrender rather than being crushed to death.

Most significantly, when Sasuke faced off against a Sound ninja, he won through pure skill and strategy, no curse mark activation to complicate matters. The clean victory left him drained but satisfied, pride rather than rage glittering in his dark eyes as he rejoined his teammates.

When the preliminary rounds concluded, the survivors drew numbers for the final tournament pairings. Naruto found himself matched against Neji in the first round—just as before. Sasuke would face Gaara in the third match, another echo of the original timeline.

Some things, it seemed, resisted change.

"One month to prepare," Kakashi announced as they left the tower, sunlight harsh after so long underground. "I'll be training Sasuke personally, focusing on speed and his Sharingan development." He eye-smiled at Naruto and Sakura. "As for you two"

"I've got it covered," Naruto said quickly, anticipating the brush-off that had stung so deeply the first time around. "I've arranged a teacher."

Kakashi's eyebrow rose, visible surprise quickly masked. "Oh? And who might that be?"

"You'll see," Naruto replied cryptically, privately hoping his gamble would pay off. The Hokage had promised to speak with Jiraiya about taking Naruto under his wing earlier than in the original timeline, but nothing was certain.

As Team Seven dispersed—Sasuke with Kakashi, Sakura toward the hospital to study medical techniques—Naruto made his way to the hot springs on the village's eastern edge. If history held, a certain self-proclaimed super pervert would be conducting "research" there by now.

The familiar giggle reached his ears before he spotted its source—a large man with spiky white hair crouched behind the bamboo fence of the women's bathing area, giggling as he peered through a small gap.

"Ero-sennin," Naruto called out, deliberately using the nickname that had always irritated and amused Jiraiya in equal measure.

The Sannin froze, then straightened with deliberate dignity, turning to fix Naruto with an affronted glare. "Who dares interrupt the great Jiraiya's research with such a disrespectful title?"

"Your new student," Naruto replied, crossing his arms with feigned confidence. Inside, his heart raced. This was Jiraiya—his mentor, his godfather, the man who had taught him so much and sacrificed everything for Konoha. Alive again, untouched by the tragedy that awaited him in their first timeline.

"Student?" Jiraiya scoffed, though his eyes held shrewd assessment beneath the bluster. "I don't take students, kid. Especially not pipsqueaks who interrupt my important work."

"Even pipsqueaks who hold the Nine-Tailed Fox?" Naruto lifted his shirt, channeling chakra to reveal the seal on his stomach. "Even the son of the Fourth Hokage?"

Jiraiya went utterly still, all pretense of buffoonery evaporating like morning mist. "How do you know that?" he asked, voice dangerously soft.

"The Old Man told me," Naruto lied, lowering his shirt. "After Orochimaru attacked our team in the Forest of Death. He said you might be willing to train me for the finals—that I needed to learn to control the fox's chakra."

It wasn't entirely false. The Hokage had confirmed Naruto's parentage after his warnings about Orochimaru proved legitimate, attributing the revelation to the necessity of Naruto understanding his heritage in these dangerous times.

Jiraiya studied him for a long, silent moment, calculating eyes at odds with his flamboyant appearance. "Minato's boy," he finally murmured, something like pain flickering across his features. "You've got his coloring, but your mother's face. And her mouth, from the sound of it."

Warmth bloomed in Naruto's chest at the casual reference to his parents—spoken with such familiarity, such obvious affection. In their first life, it had taken so much longer to learn even basic facts about them.

"So you'll teach me?" he pressed, pushing away the emotion that threatened to choke him.

"Hmph. I suppose someone has to keep you from blowing yourself up with that fox's chakra." Jiraiya scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Meet me by the east training ground tomorrow at dawn. And bring breakfast! Teaching works up an appetite."

Relief and nostalgia crashed through Naruto in equal measure. "Yes, sir, Ero-sennin!"

"AND STOP CALLING ME THAT!"

As Naruto dashed away, laughter bubbling up from some deep, joyful place inside him, he felt more hopeful than he had since waking in his child's body. He'd prevented Sasuke from receiving the curse mark. He'd established connections with Jiraiya months earlier than in their first life. He'd alerted the village to Orochimaru's invasion plans.

Ripples becoming waves, reshaping the shoreline of fate.

But as he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with a figure leaning against the wall—arms crossed, Sharingan active, expression unreadable.

"So," Sasuke said quietly, voice neutral in a way that raised all Naruto's internal alarms. "The Nine-Tailed Fox. The Fourth Hokage's son. Just how many secrets are you keeping, Naruto?"

Cold dread washed through him, replacing the warmth of moments before. He'd been careless, sloppy in his elation. And now Sasuke had overheard everything.

"Sasuke," he began, mind racing for explanations that wouldn't sound like lies. "I can explain—"

"Can you? Really?" The Uchiha pushed off from the wall, stepping closer until they were nearly nose to nose. "Because lately, I'm starting to think I don't know you at all. The skills you shouldn't have. The knowledge you couldn't possess. The way you predicted Orochimaru's attack." His eyes narrowed to crimson slits. "So tell me, dobe—who exactly are you?"

The question hung between them like a blade, reflecting truths too dangerous to share and lies too flimsy to believe. As Naruto met his teammate's searching gaze, he realized he'd reached another fulcrum point—another moment where his choices might save or destroy everything he'd fought to change.

Some secrets, Kurama rumbled in his mind, cannot remain buried forever.

"Not here," Naruto finally said, glancing around the public street. "Not now. But soon. I promise."

Sasuke studied him for a heartbeat longer before stepping back, Sharingan fading to obsidian black. "Soon," he agreed, the word both acknowledgment and warning. "Because whatever game you're playing affects all of us now. And I won't be kept in the dark any longer."

As his teammate walked away, shoulders rigid with unspoken tension, Naruto leaned against the wall and exhaled shakily. The waves he'd created were growing higher, stronger, more unpredictable. Whether they would carry them all to safety or dash them against unmapped shores remained to be seen.

But one thing was becoming increasingly clear: the time for half-truths and misdirection was running out.