what if naruto reborn with all his memories and time dojutsu

# Chapter 1: The Second Awakening

Darkness. Then pain—searing, impossible pain that tore through every cell of his being. Naruto Uzumaki had known pain before, but nothing like this. This wasn't just physical agony; it was the sensation of his very existence being compressed, crushed, and then... reborn.

His consciousness slammed back into reality with the force of a Rasengan. A piercing wail cut through the air—his own, he realized with a start. The cry of an infant. But behind it lurked the mind of a man who had lived, fought, and died as the Seventh Hokage of Konohagakure.

What... what is this? Am I... alive?

Naruto tried to move, to speak, to do anything but cry, but his body wouldn't respond properly. His limbs flailed uselessly, tiny fists clenching and unclenching without coordination. Panic surged through him as he realized the horrifying truth—he was trapped in the body of a newborn.

Around him, chaos reigned. Through blurry, unfocused eyes, he caught flashes of movement, the acrid smell of smoke and blood filling his nostrils. The air pulsed with chakra so dense it seemed to crackle against his skin. He recognized this chakra—how could he not? The Nine-Tails. Kurama.

This isn't just any night. This is THAT night.

A deep baritone voice boomed somewhere above him. "Hold the beast back! Minato's preparing the seal!"

Dad...

Memories crashed over him like a tsunami—his life as Hokage, his children, his friends, the final battle that had claimed his life. The sensation was overwhelming, like drowning in his own past. Naruto remembered dying, remembered the feeling of his chakra dissolving, remembered saying goodbye to everyone he loved.

So why was he here? Why was he experiencing his own birth?

A familiar face loomed above him suddenly—younger, less weathered, but unmistakable. The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, alive and vibrant, his eyes sharp with concern. "The child still lives," he said to someone Naruto couldn't see. "Quickly, we must complete what the Fourth began."

Naruto felt it then—the burning sensation in his stomach as the sealing jutsu began to take effect. The raw power of the Nine-Tails being forced into his tiny body, just as it had been the first time. But something was different. The pain intensified, spreading from his abdomen to his eyes.

"What's happening?" A voice cried out. "His eyes!"

The burning became unbearable. Naruto screamed, a sound too powerful for an infant's lungs. In that moment of pure agony, something within him fractured and reformed. The world around him suddenly slowed to a crawl. He could see individual particles of dust hanging in the air, illuminated by the glow of chakra. He could perceive the beads of sweat forming on the Third Hokage's brow, the minute contractions of muscles in his face.

And more—he could see threads of time, gossamer strands of possibility branching outward from this moment in every direction. Some glowed brighter than others, more likely futures spinning out before his newborn eyes.

"Impossible..." the Third Hokage whispered, his voice stretched and distorted in Naruto's altered perception. "Those eyes..."

The sealing completed with a final surge of energy that sent ripples through the room. As the Nine-Tails' chakra settled within him, Naruto's vision returned to normal, the threads of time fading from view. But the memory of what he'd seen remained crystal clear.

---

Hours later, cradled in an anonymous nurse's arms, Naruto struggled to process everything. He was back at the beginning—before the loneliness, before Team 7, before the wars and the pain and the triumph. Before he'd earned the village's respect. Before he'd fallen in love with Hinata. Before his children were born.

Boruto... Himawari... they don't exist anymore. They might never exist.

The thought sent a spike of grief through him so intense that he began to wail again, unable to contain the emotion in this underdeveloped body.

"Shh, shh," the nurse soothed, bouncing him gently. "Poor thing. Orphaned on the day of his birth."

Footsteps approached, and the Third Hokage appeared in Naruto's limited field of vision. "How is he?" Hiruzen asked, his voice gentler than Naruto had ever remembered it being.

"Unsettled," the nurse replied. "But physically, he seems strong."

Hiruzen reached down and took Naruto from her arms, cradling him with surprising tenderness for a man known as the God of Shinobi. "Let me see him."

Their eyes met—aged wisdom looking into newborn blue. But what the Third saw made him inhale sharply. "His eyes changed again," he murmured. "For a moment, I could have sworn..."

Naruto focused with all his might, trying to activate whatever had happened during the sealing. Show him. Let him see.

For a heartbeat, he felt it—a pulse of chakra behind his eyes, and the world shifted. He saw not just the Third Hokage as he was now, but as he had been and would be—younger and in battle, older and facing Orochimaru on the rooftop, the moment of his death playing out in ghostly overlay.

Hiruzen nearly dropped him. "What are you?" he whispered, too quietly for the nurse to hear.

The moment passed, and Naruto was just a baby again, his chakra exhausted by the effort. But the look of shock on the Third's face confirmed what he had suspected—this was no ordinary rebirth. Something fundamental had changed. He had changed.

---

That night, alone in the hospital nursery, Naruto lay awake while the other orphaned infants slept. His adult mind, trapped in this helpless body, raced with possibilities. Why had he returned? Was it chance? Design? And these eyes—this ability to see the threads of time—what did it mean?

In his previous life, he'd failed to save so many people. Neji. Jiraiya. His parents. The Third Hokage himself. The entire Uchiha clan. Countless others lost to wars that perhaps didn't need to happen.

And Sasuke—his best friend, who had walked such a dark path before finding his way back to the light. Could he spare him that pain this time around?

Outside the window, the moon hung full and bright over a Konoha still bearing the scars of the Nine-Tails' attack. In the silvery light, Naruto made his vow, not with the boisterous declarations of his youth, but with the quiet determination of a Hokage who had seen the end of his road and been given another chance to walk it differently.

I don't know why I've been sent back, or who gave me these eyes that can see through time itself. But I swear on everything I became in that other life—I will use this power to protect them all. Every precious person. This time, no one has to fall.

As if in response to his silent oath, he felt a pulse of chakra behind his eyes, and for an instant, the world around him shimmered with infinite possibility. Paths of fate stretched before him like rays of sunlight, and at the center of it all, a single, brilliant strand that he somehow knew was his to shape.

Naruto Uzumaki—once Genin, once Sage, once Hokage, now newborn—closed his eyes and began to plan. He had a lifetime to relive and a world to save, one change at a time.

But deep within the seal in his belly, something stirred—a consciousness not yet fully formed, but ancient and powerful. And somehow, Naruto knew that Kurama would not be the same this time either. Nothing would be.

The game had changed. And so had he.

# Chapter 2: Growing Shadows

The kunai sliced through the air with a soft whistle before embedding itself in the rotting trunk of a fallen tree—nowhere near the crude target Naruto had painted. Five-year-old fingers weren't meant to handle weapons with precision. He cursed under his breath, a string of colorful phrases no child his age should know.

"Dammit!" Naruto growled, stomping his foot in the clearing. Early morning mist still clung to the forest floor, wreathing his tiny frame in ghostly tendrils. "How did I ever think this was easy?"

Five years trapped in a child's body had taught Naruto many things, patience being the least successful lesson. His mind remembered the fluid grace of his adult movements, the raw power he'd once wielded. His body remembered nothing.

The sun pierced through the canopy in golden shafts that illuminated dust motes and pollen suspended in the air. A perfect moment for practice. Naruto closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath that filled his lungs with the scent of damp earth and pine. When he opened them again, the world had changed.

His irises shifted from cerulean blue to a pulsing silvery-white, concentric rings rippling outward like timepieces nested within each other. The suspended particles in the sunbeams froze completely. The distant chirping of birds stretched into long, distorted echoes.

"Focus," he whispered to himself, extending his hand toward a particular section of the clearing. The air there rippled like heat waves over desert sand, then seemed to thicken, time itself becoming viscous in a sphere about three feet in diameter.

Naruto reached for another kunai, took careful aim, and threw it directly through the affected area. The weapon slowed dramatically upon entering the sphere, as though passing through honey, giving him ample time to observe its rotation, its trajectory. It exited the other side at normal speed, striking dead center of his target with a satisfying thunk.

A grin split his face—childlike despite the ancient eyes. "Now we're getting somewhere!"

The effort cost him. A spike of pain lanced through his temples, his vision blurring as the dojutsu deactivated. His small body still couldn't channel the chakra needed to maintain the ability for long. Naruto slumped against a tree trunk, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes.

"Slow and steady," he reminded himself. "This time, I've got years to prepare."

A twig snapped somewhere behind him.

Naruto whirled, immediately dropping into a defensive stance—a mistake. Normal five-year-olds didn't move like seasoned shinobi. He forced himself to relax, shoulders slumping, adopting the awkward posture of a child caught doing something forbidden.

Through the trees emerged a boy his age with raven-black hair and serious eyes. Uchiha Sasuke—still innocent, still unburdened by the weight of a murdered clan and a brother's betrayal.

Time seemed to stop naturally this time, no dojutsu required. Naruto's breath caught in his throat. His best friend. His greatest rival. The person he'd fought hardest to save.

Alive. Whole. Unbroken.

"What are you doing out here?" Sasuke demanded, eyes narrowing with childish suspicion. "This is Uchiha land."

Naruto's mind raced through a dozen calculated responses before settling on authentic simplicity. "Practicing," he said, gesturing to the kunai and the poorly-drawn target. "I'm going to be Hokage someday, believe it!"

The old catchphrase felt strange on his tongue after so many years, but Sasuke's reaction—a slight roll of the eyes, a barely suppressed smirk—was achingly familiar.

"You're that kid," Sasuke said, recognition dawning. "The one everyone stays away from."

Naruto flinched despite himself. He'd forgotten how blunt children could be, how sharp their innocent cruelty.

"Yeah, well," he mumbled, kicking at the dirt. "Doesn't matter. I'll show them all eventually."

Something in his voice—perhaps the absolute certainty in it—made Sasuke tilt his head curiously. "You're weird," he decided after a moment. Then, surprisingly, he added, "Your stance is all wrong. That's why you keep missing."

"Oh?" Naruto pretended ignorance, though his adult mind knew exactly what he was doing wrong. "How should I stand then?"

Sasuke approached, demonstrating with the natural talent that had always defined him. "Like this. Feet apart. Elbow higher."

For a surreal moment, they were just two boys practicing in the woods, one teaching the other a basic skill. Naruto deliberately missed his next throw, but not by much—enough to show improvement without raising suspicion.

"Better," Sasuke acknowledged. "But you need a lot more practice."

"Want to practice together sometime?" The question escaped before Naruto could stop it—too eager, too familiar for two children who'd just met.

Sasuke hesitated, surprise flickering across his features. "Maybe. I train with my brother when he's not busy with missions." Pride filled his voice at the mention of Itachi. "He's the best in our clan."

The name hit Naruto like a physical blow. Itachi. The massacre was close. Too close.

His dojutsu activated involuntarily, triggered by emotional distress. The world slowed around them, but something new happened—a vision crashed over him like a tidal wave.

Blood splashed across wooden floors. A sword catching moonlight as it swung downward. Dark eyes shifting to crimson Sharingan. Bodies falling like puppets with cut strings. Sasuke screaming.

"Hey! What's wrong with your eyes?"

Sasuke's sharp question snapped Naruto back to reality. The young Uchiha had taken a step back, wariness replacing curiosity.

"Just—just something that happens sometimes," Naruto stammered, turning away and blinking rapidly until he felt the dojutsu recede. "Weird eye condition. It's nothing."

"They looked... strange," Sasuke insisted. "I've never seen eyes like that before."

"It's nothing!" Naruto repeated, panic edging his voice. "Forget you saw it, okay?"

The silence stretched taut between them until Sasuke shrugged. "Whatever. I have to go. My mother's expecting me home for lunch."

After Sasuke left, Naruto collapsed onto his knees, trembling. The vision had been clearer than any before—not just glimpses of possible futures but specific events, as though his dojutsu had locked onto this particular moment in time.

The Uchiha massacre was coming. And soon.

---

"Old Man, I need to talk to you!" Naruto burst into the Hokage's office with typical lack of ceremony, dodging past the sputtering assistant outside.

Hiruzen Sarutobi looked up from his paperwork, pipe dangling from his lips, eyebrows raised at the small blonde whirlwind that had just invaded his space. For a moment, nostalgia hit Naruto—how many times had he done this in his previous life?

"Naruto-kun," the Third Hokage said mildly. "Shouldn't you be at the orphanage?"

"They don't care where I am," Naruto replied with a dismissive wave, the bitter truth serving his purpose. "Listen, something bad's gonna happen! I saw it!"

The Hokage's expression softened. Many in the village treated Naruto with fear or contempt, but Hiruzen had always shown him kindness. "What did you see?"

Naruto opened his mouth, then hesitated. How could he possibly explain? 'I'm actually the Seventh Hokage reborn with time-seeing eyes and I know the Uchiha clan is about to be massacred by Itachi on the village's orders?'

Instead, he went with childish urgency. "The Uchihas! They're in danger! Someone with red eyes is going to hurt them!"

Hiruzen's face changed subtly—a tightening around the eyes, a new stillness in his posture. "Naruto," he said carefully, "why would you say such a thing?"

"Because I saw it!" Frustration built in Naruto's chest. "With my special eyes! The ones that change color sometimes! You've seen them!"

The Hokage set down his pipe, coming around his desk to kneel before Naruto. His weathered hands settled on the boy's shoulders. "Naruto-kun, you have quite an imagination. These special eyes of yours—"

"They're real!" Naruto interrupted. "And what I saw is real too! Please, you have to stop it!"

Hiruzen's expression was gentle but dismissive. "I think you may have had a nightmare, Naruto. Or perhaps you heard some villagers talking and misunderstood."

Desperation clawed at Naruto's throat. He could force his dojutsu to activate, show the Hokage here and now—but would that help or make things worse? Would revealing such power just make him a new target, a new weapon to be used?

"Please," he tried one last time, his voice smaller. "Just... check on them, okay?"

"I'll tell you what," Hiruzen said, ruffling Naruto's hair, "why don't you join me for some ramen at Ichiraku? You look like you could use a good meal."

And just like that, Naruto understood. The Third already knew. The decision had already been made. The political machinations were already in motion. In this moment, he wasn't speaking to kind old Hiruzen who snuck him treats; he was facing the God of Shinobi, the man who had ordered countless assassinations for the greater good of the village.

Naruto's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Sure," he said, forcing a bright smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Ramen sounds great!"

---

Days later, Naruto sat on his apartment windowsill, legs dangling over the edge as he watched the sunset paint Konoha in hues of amber and gold. In the distance, the Uchiha compound stood quiet against the dimming sky.

Tonight. It would happen tonight.

After his failed attempt to warn the Hokage, Naruto had tried other approaches—anonymously tipping off Uchiha Fugaku about increased ANBU surveillance, "accidentally" starting a fire near the compound gates to increase security, even trying to befriend Itachi himself during one of his rare appearances in the village.

Nothing had worked. Either fate was too strongly set on this course, or his childish interventions were too feeble to change history's momentum.

A shadow fell across him, and Naruto tensed, recognizing the chakra signature before he turned.

"Quite the view from here," came a deep voice, deceptively casual.

Shimura Danzo stood on the rooftop adjacent to Naruto's window, bandaged arm tucked into his robe, visible eye fixed not on the village panorama but on Naruto himself. Root agents lurked in the shadows behind him, their presences barely detectable even to Naruto's experienced senses.

"What do you want?" Naruto asked flatly, abandoning any pretense of childish deference. There was no point playing innocent with Danzo.

The elder's eye narrowed. "Curious. Most children would be frightened to find a stranger at their window. Most wouldn't recognize me at all."

"I'm not most children," Naruto replied, meeting his gaze steadily.

"No," Danzo agreed, "you're not. The Nine-Tails jinchūriki, certainly. But something more as well. Something..." he paused, as if tasting the word before speaking it, "...unusual."

A chill raced down Naruto's spine. In his previous life, he'd underestimated Danzo's intelligence, his resources, his ruthlessness. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Naruto said, trying to inject childish confusion into his voice. "I'm just waiting for the fireworks."

"Fireworks?" Danzo's tone remained flat.

"Over the Uchiha compound," Naruto said, watching closely for a reaction. "There's gonna be a festival tonight, right? That's what all the ANBU are for."

Something flashed in Danzo's eye—surprise, perhaps, or calculation. "Your chakra," he said eventually, ignoring Naruto's bait. "It fluctuates in patterns I've never seen before. Particularly around your eyes."

Naruto shrugged. "Maybe it's the fox."

"Perhaps." Danzo didn't sound convinced. "Or perhaps there's another explanation. One worth exploring."

The threat hung in the air between them.

"The Third Hokage checks on me every week," Naruto said quietly. "He'd notice if I disappeared."

Danzo's mouth curved in what might generously be called a smile. "No one's talking about disappearances, young man. I'm simply... curious."

He turned to leave, then paused. "Enjoy your fireworks, Naruto-kun. Some nights change the course of history. Best to watch them from a distance."

Then he was gone, melting into the shadows with his agents, leaving Naruto shaking with a mixture of fear and fury. The message had been clear: Danzo knew something was different about him, and he was watching.

As darkness fell over Konoha, Naruto slipped out his window. Small and silent, he navigated back alleys and rooftops until he reached a tall tree on a hill overlooking the Uchiha district. From here, he could see but not be seen—a perfect vantage point for the horror that was about to unfold.

The moon rose, full and bright, casting silver light over the compound's tiled roofs. Everything was still, ordinary, peaceful. Lights glowed in windows. A woman hung laundry in a garden. Two Uchiha police officers chatted at the main gate.

Naruto's fists clenched, nails digging crescents into his palms. He could run down there now, scream warnings, create a scene big enough to disrupt the plan. He could use his dojutsu, limited as it was, to buy precious minutes. He could do something.

But what would change? In his bones, Naruto knew the truth—he wasn't strong enough yet. Not in this five-year-old body. Rushing in would only get him killed or captured, eliminate any chance he had of changing the bigger picture. And Danzo was watching, waiting for proof of whatever he suspected.

A shadow flickered across a rooftop—so fast most eyes would miss it. Naruto didn't. He knew that movement, that silent efficiency.

It was beginning.

Tears welled in Naruto's eyes as the first scream echoed across the compound, quickly silenced. His dojutsu activated involuntarily, the world slowing around him as rings of silver-white chakra spread through his irises. Through them, he saw not just what was happening now, but echoes of what would follow—Sasuke's pain, his hatred, his descent into darkness and revenge.

"I'm sorry," Naruto whispered, tears streaming freely down his face as lights began to go out one by one across the compound. "I'm sorry, Sasuke. I can't stop it yet. But I swear, I'll make it right. I'll change everything else."

The silver rings in his eyes pulsed with fierce light as more screams rose from the doomed clan, each one cutting into Naruto's heart like a blade. This was the price of his weakness, the cost of biding his time. Tonight, Sasuke would lose everything, just as he had in the original timeline.

But as Naruto watched the massacre through eyes that could see time itself, he made a silent vow that would change everything else that followed.

This time, I'll be there for you from the beginning. This time, you won't face the darkness alone.

In the Uchiha compound below, a young boy's terrified scream rose above all others as he discovered his parents' bodies and faced his brother's betrayal.

And on the hillside, a time-traveler with a child's body and a Hokage's resolve wept for the friend he couldn't save—not yet.

# Chapter 3: Academy Days Revisited

Morning sunlight splintered through the leaves, dappling the Academy courtyard in gold and shadow. Eight-year-old Naruto stood at the entrance, heart hammering against his ribs. Around him, children streamed past in a blur of excited chatter and nervous laughter, their bodies colliding and rebounding in the careless way of the young. Parents hovered at the periphery, some casting sidelong glances at the small blonde boy standing alone.

Breathe, Naruto commanded himself. You've done this before.

But that was the problem, wasn't it? He had done this before—lived this day, walked through these gates, met these people—and the weight of that knowledge pressed against his chest like a stone. Three years since the Uchiha massacre. Three years of meticulous preparation. Three years of waiting for this moment.

"You gonna stand there all day, squirt?" A chunin instructor called from the doorway, clipboard balanced on his hip. "Class starts in five!"

Naruto flashed his trademark grin—too wide, too bright—and bounded forward with practiced exuberance. "Save me a seat at the front! Future Hokage coming through!"

The instructor rolled his eyes, but Naruto caught the slight softening around his mouth. This time around, he'd been careful to balance his pranks with occasional moments of unexpected politeness. Small adjustments to the narrative of Naruto Uzumaki, subtle enough to avoid suspicion but significant enough to change how people saw him.

The academy hallway assaulted his senses—the bitter-sharp scent of chalk dust, the squeak of sandals on polished floors, the drone of instructors establishing first-day rules. Naruto slowed his steps, chest suddenly tight. Just around this corner waited ghosts from his past—friends who had died in his arms, comrades who had followed him into battle, children who had no idea what fate had once held for them.

He hesitated at the classroom door.

"Scared?" A voice drawled from behind him.

Naruto whirled, and the world tilted on its axis. There stood Shikamaru Nara—impossibly young, impossibly alive—hands shoved deep in his pockets, expression caught somewhere between boredom and curiosity.

"Shikamaru," Naruto breathed, the name escaping before he could stop it.

One eyebrow arched slightly. "Yeah? Do I know you?"

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Naruto had never interacted with Shikamaru before the Academy in his original timeline. He scrambled for recovery.

"Everybody knows the Naras," he blurted. "Your dad works with the Hokage, right? Mine too, probably, if he was—" He cut himself off, injecting just the right amount of childish pain into his voice. "Never mind."

Shikamaru's sharp eyes tracked over him, assessing. "Troublesome," he muttered, but Naruto caught the flicker of interest behind the word.

Before Shikamaru could press further, Naruto ducked into the classroom, heart racing. Inside was a collision of memories—past and present superimposed in a dizzying overlay. There sat Kiba, feral grin splitting his face as he boasted to a cluster of boys. Ino and Sakura, still friends, heads bent together over a flower Ino had brought. Choji, quietly munching chips in the back corner.

And there—the empty seat beside a small, dark-haired girl whose fingers twisted nervously in her lap. Hinata. His wife in another life.

The air punched from Naruto's lungs. This would be harder than he'd imagined.

"Find a seat, find a seat!" Iruka called, clapping his hands at the front of the room. Younger than Naruto remembered, fewer lines etched around his eyes, but the same steady presence.

With deliberate casualness, Naruto slid into a middle row, not beside Hinata (too suspicious, too painful), but within her line of sight. Not beside Sasuke either, who sat rigid and alone by the window, eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the glass. The empty seat on either side of the Uchiha boy spoke volumes—no one knew how to approach this survivor of a massacred clan.

I'll fix it all, Naruto promised silently, watching his old friend from the corner of his eye. Just not all at once.

"Welcome to your first day at the Ninja Academy!" Iruka's voice boomed across the classroom. "I'm Iruka-sensei, and I'll be guiding you through your basic training. By the time you leave these halls, you'll have the foundation to become genin of Konoha!"

As Iruka launched into his welcome speech, Naruto settled into the role he'd carefully crafted—attentive enough to avoid trouble, distracted enough to appear ordinary. A middle-of-the-pack student, nursing secret dreams of greatness. Nothing to draw unwanted attention.

"--demonstrate a basic transformation technique," Iruka was saying, pulling Naruto from his thoughts. "Nothing complex, just to assess your current abilities."

Students shuffled forward one by one. Some managed puffs of smoke with no transformation. Others achieved crude, blurry versions of their targets. The clan children performed better—Sasuke's transformation nearly perfect, prompting appreciative murmurs.

When Naruto's turn came, he stepped forward with calculated hesitation.

"Transform into me," Iruka instructed, smiling encouragingly.

Naruto formed the seals—deliberately making the last one slightly sloppy—and called on a precise fraction of his chakra. "Transform!"

A cloud of smoke billowed around him. When it cleared, he stood as a mostly-accurate Iruka, but with slightly asymmetrical eyes and hair the wrong shade of brown.

"Good effort, Naruto!" Iruka said, making a note on his clipboard. "Your chakra control needs work, but that's why you're here."

Naruto released the jutsu with a sheepish grin. "I'll get better, Iruka-sensei! Just you wait!"

As he returned to his seat, he caught Shikamaru's gaze following him, a slight furrow between his brows. The Nara boy's perception had always been dangerously sharp. Naruto would need to be careful there.

---

The Academy grounds erupted with the controlled chaos of lunch break—children claiming territory in small clusters, the social geography establishing itself with the instinctive brutality of youth. Naruto perched on a swing at the periphery, watching it all unfold with the strange double vision of his two lives.

"Hey! Give it back!" A familiar voice cried out, high with distress.

Naruto's head snapped up. Across the yard, three older boys had surrounded Hinata, one dangling her bento box just out of reach. Her pale eyes were wide, filling with tears she refused to let fall.

"What's a Hyūga princess doing at the regular Academy anyway?" One boy sneered, shoving her shoulder. "Shouldn't you be getting private lessons?"

"P-please," Hinata stammered, her voice barely audible. "Just give it back."

"Or what?" Another boy laughed. "You gonna use your fancy eyes on us?"

Naruto was moving before he could think, a protective fury blazing through him. Then he caught himself. Direct intervention wasn't the plan. Drawing attention to his relationship with Hinata this early could alter too many variables. But he couldn't just watch.

He circled behind a tree, out of sight, and activated his dojutsu. The familiar silver rings expanded from his pupils, the world slowing to a syrupy crawl around him. He focused on the ground beneath the lead bully's feet, concentrating chakra into a pinpoint.

There, in that small patch of dirt and time, he twisted.

To outside observers, what happened next appeared to be simple bad luck. The bully took a step forward, his foot sliding on seemingly nothing, legs flying out from under him. The bento box launched into the air as he fell, its contents spilling directly onto his head.

His friends froze in shock. Hinata's eyes widened.

Naruto, safely hidden, deactivated his dojutsu with a satisfied smirk. The slight headache was worth it.

"You pushed me!" The fallen bully accused his friends, scrambling to his feet with rice stuck to his hair.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

As the bullies descended into bickering, Naruto seized his chance. He burst from his hiding place, racing across the yard with deliberate clumsiness.

"Hey, Hinata!" he called, as if just noticing the scene. "Whoa, what happened to these guys?" He injected innocent confusion into his voice, plucking a stray pickle from the bully's shoulder. "Is this yours?"

The boys rounded on him, faces darkening. "You want trouble too, demon brat?"

Naruto blinked, feigning hurt confusion. "What'd I do? I just got here!" He turned to Hinata, whose cheeks had flushed a familiar pink. "Did they take your lunch? That's not cool."

"N-Naruto-kun," she whispered, and something in Naruto's chest twisted painfully at the honorific, at the shy recognition in her voice. Did she remember him from before the Academy? Had she been watching him even then?

"Tell you what," he said brightly, "you can share mine! I've got extra!" A lie—he had barely enough for himself, but some sacrifices were worth making.

The lead bully stepped forward, looming over Naruto with food still dripping down his face. "Nobody asked you to—"

"Is there a problem here?" Iruka's voice cut through the confrontation like a blade.

The bullies scattered, muttering excuses. Iruka surveyed the mess, eyes narrowing. "Hinata-chan, are you alright?"

She nodded, eyes downcast. "Y-yes, sensei."

Iruka turned to Naruto, surprise evident in his expression. "Naruto? What are you doing here?"

Naruto shrugged, hands behind his head in his old familiar pose. "Just being friendly, Iruka-sensei! That's what you told us to do, right? Make friends!"

A complicated emotion flickered across Iruka's face—surprise, certainly, but something warmer too. "Well... yes. That's right." He glanced between them. "Carry on, then."

As Iruka walked away, Naruto grinned at Hinata. "So how 'bout it? Lunch partners?"

They settled beneath an oak tree, Naruto chattering easily about nothing important while Hinata gradually relaxed beside him. He kept his movements controlled, his stories childish, but couldn't resist occasionally glancing at her—this girl who would become a woman of fierce courage, who would love him when no one else did, who would give her life for him in a future that now existed only in his memory.

"N-Naruto-kun," she ventured finally, "why did you help me?"

The question caught him off guard. In his memories, the young Hinata had rarely initiated conversation.

"Because," he said, searching for an answer that would be true for both his eight-year-old self and the man he had been, "nobody should be alone when they're sad. And you looked sad."

Her pale eyes widened, a small smile trembling on her lips. "Thank you."

From across the yard, Naruto felt eyes on them. He glanced up to find Shikamaru watching, his normally lazy gaze unexpectedly intent.

---

The afternoon sun blazed through windows specked with dust motes as Iruka lectured on chakra theory. Naruto balanced his attention between appearing adequately engaged and observing his classmates, cataloging differences from his remembered past.

Sakura answered a question with her usual textbook precision, but without the nervous glance toward Sasuke that had once accompanied her every move. Sasuke himself sat straighter than Naruto remembered, anger rather than indifference radiating from his rigid posture. Small ripples from three years of subtle interference—not enough to change the course of the river, but enough to alter its current.

"Dismissed!" Iruka announced finally. "Remember to practice your hand seals tonight!"

As students flooded toward the exit, Naruto deliberately slowed his pace, dropping his pencil case to buy time. The classroom emptied until only he remained, methodically gathering scattered pencils.

"Need help with that?" Shikamaru's drawl from the doorway startled him. The Nara boy hadn't left with the others.

"I'm good," Naruto replied, wariness creeping into his tone. "Don't you have clouds to watch or something?"

Shikamaru's lips quirked. "Later. Right now, I'm watching something more interesting."

Naruto felt a chill race down his spine. Shikamaru had always been the most dangerous kind of genius—the kind that noticed patterns others missed.

"Don't know what you mean," he said, shoving the last pencil into his case with more force than necessary.

Shikamaru leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You helped Hinata."

"So?"

"So nobody helps Hinata. Most kids don't even talk to her."

Naruto shrugged. "Maybe they should. She's nice."

"How did you know her name? Before today, I mean."

The question hung in the air between them, precise as a kunai strike. Naruto cursed mentally. He'd gotten careless.

"Everybody knows the Hyūga," he echoed his earlier statement, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. "Same as everybody knows the Nara."

Shikamaru's eyes narrowed fractionally. "And those boys falling over themselves? Pretty convenient timing."

"Lucky, right?" Naruto flashed his most guileless grin, edging toward the door. "Maybe karma's real after all!"

"Maybe," Shikamaru agreed, not moving from the doorway. "Or maybe there's something different about you, Uzumaki Naruto."

Naruto forced a laugh. "Me? I'm an open book! What you see is what you get!"

"That's just it," Shikamaru said, voice suddenly dropping. "I don't think anyone sees what they're getting with you. Not really."

For a heartbeat, Naruto considered his options. Shikamaru had been one of his closest advisors, his strategic mind invaluable. Having him as an ally this early could change everything—but at what risk?

The moment stretched taut between them, possibility humming in the air.

Then Naruto yawned widely, scratching the back of his head. "Man, you're weird, Shikamaru. I'm just a normal kid trying to become Hokage someday, believe it!"

Something like disappointment flickered in Shikamaru's dark eyes, but he stepped aside. "Troublesome," he muttered, but Naruto heard the note of intrigue beneath the word.

As he darted past, Naruto knew one thing with certainty—Shikamaru Nara was now watching him. And that could be either a powerful advantage or a dangerous complication.

---

The sunset painted the Hokage Monument in amber and bronze, long shadows stretching across the village like grasping fingers. Naruto sat cross-legged in a secluded training ground, eyes closed, palms resting on his knees. The day's interactions swirled in his mind—connections reforged, suspicions planted, foundations laid.

He released a slow breath, focusing on his chakra core. Over the past three years, he had developed a meditation technique that seemed to strengthen his dojutsu's capabilities. Not quite sage mode—his young body couldn't handle that yet—but something adjacent to it, drawing on his unique connection to time itself.

As his consciousness expanded, Naruto activated his dojutsu without opening his eyes. Behind closed lids, the world transformed—not into the slow-motion effect he usually experienced, but into something entirely new.

When he finally opened his eyes, he gasped.

The training ground was overlaid with shimmering trails of light—blue, green, red, gold—flowing through the air like luminous ribbons. They twisted around trees, traced paths through grass, concentrated in spots where people had stood or fought or simply existed.

Timeprints.

Naruto rose to his feet in wonder, turning slowly. Each trail had a distinct signature, a unique frequency that somehow conveyed information about its source. There—the steady azure pulse of a jōnin who had trained here yesterday. And there—the bright orange flicker of a genin team from three days past. Fading trails from weeks ago, still visible as gossamer threads.

"Incredible," he whispered, reaching out to touch a particularly vibrant green signature.

The moment his fingers contacted the trail, knowledge flooded his mind—a chunin instructor, practicing water jutsu, frustrated by slow progress, determined to master it before his next mission. Naruto jerked back, heart racing. Not just an impression, but specific thoughts, emotions, intentions.

Cautiously, he stepped into a golden trail that wrapped around a target post. This time he was prepared for the rush of information—a young woman, weapons specialist, training for jōnin trials, her concentration absolute as she hit bullseye after bullseye.

Tenten, he realized with a jolt. This was Tenten's timeprint from earlier today.

The possibilities made his head spin. With this ability, he could track anyone who had passed through an area, understand their purpose, even glimpse their emotional state. For intelligence gathering alone, it was revolutionary.

But something else caught his eye—a deep crimson trail leading away from the training ground, into the village. Unlike the others, this one pulsed with an unsettling rhythm, its edges jagged rather than flowing. Naruto followed it, curiosity overriding caution.

The trail led to the Academy, around its perimeter, then to a side entrance. It hovered near certain windows—classrooms, the teachers' lounge—before splitting into multiple strands that snaked toward the administration building.

Naruto touched the trail, bracing himself.

Ambition. Resentment. Secret meetings. Plans within plans. A scroll of forbidden techniques. Power promised. Recognition denied too long.

He pulled back, breath catching in his throat.

Mizuki.

The academy instructor's timeprint thrummed with dark intentions, plans already in motion. In Naruto's original timeline, Mizuki had tricked him into stealing the Scroll of Sealing, using him as a pawn in his scheme to deliver forbidden jutsu to Orochimaru. That event had led to Naruto learning the Shadow Clone Technique, yes, but it had also nearly cost Iruka his life.

Naruto stared at the malevolent timeprint, realization dawning like a cold sun. This was it—the first major event he could change, the first point where his knowledge could make a meaningful difference. Not just reacting to fate but actively reshaping it.

He deactivated his dojutsu, the world fading back to ordinary sunset colors, but the memory of Mizuki's timeprint remained branded in his mind. The crimson trail had been fresh—days old at most. Which meant the instructor's plan was already in motion.

"Not this time," Naruto whispered to the gathering dusk. "This time, I know you're coming."

---

The Third Hokage's office smelled of pipe tobacco and old scrolls, a scent that triggered a cascade of memories for Naruto. How many times had he stood in this room—as a troublemaking genin, as a returning hero, as the Hokage-in-training? Now he stood here again, small and seemingly insignificant, while Hiruzen Sarutobi regarded him with mild curiosity.

"Naruto-kun," the old man said, setting aside his brush. "This is an unexpected visit. How was your first day at the Academy?"

"Awesome!" Naruto chirped, bouncing on his heels with manufactured enthusiasm. "Iruka-sensei is cool, and I made a friend! Well, maybe a friend. She's kind of quiet."

"She?" Hiruzen's eyebrows rose, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"Hinata," Naruto said, deliberately casual. "Some jerks were bothering her, so I helped out."

The Hokage's gaze sharpened slightly. "The Hyūga heiress. That was kind of you, Naruto."

Naruto shrugged, wandering around the office with apparent aimlessness, examining trinkets and scrolls he'd seen a hundred times before. "Old Man," he said finally, voice dropping its childish cadence, "do you ever wonder if things could be different?"

Hiruzen tilted his head. "Different how?"

"Just... different." Naruto turned, meeting the Hokage's eyes directly. "Like if you knew something bad was going to happen, and you could stop it. Would you? Even if it meant changing everything?"

A flicker of alarm crossed the old man's face, quickly masked. "That's quite a philosophical question from an Academy student."

Naruto approached the desk, dropping pretense entirely. "I know things, Old Man. Important things."

"Oh?" The Hokage's tone was light, but his eyes had hardened. "What sort of things?"

The words hovered on Naruto's tongue—*I know about Orochimaru's plans. I know about Akatsuki. I know about Danzo's arm full of stolen Sharingan. I know how and when you die.*

But the cautious strategist in him—the part that had led a village and fought a war—held back. Revealing too much too soon could be catastrophic. The Third Hokage, for all his kindness, was first and foremost a protector of Konoha. If he believed Naruto posed a threat or possessed inexplicable knowledge that could endanger the village, his response might not be what Naruto hoped for.

"I know," Naruto said instead, choosing his words carefully, "that sometimes the people you trust aren't who they seem."

Hiruzen stilled, pipe halfway to his lips. "And who would that be, Naruto-kun?"

"Just... watch the Academy instructors, okay? Maybe check who's had access to restricted information lately?"

The Hokage set down his pipe, all pretense of casual conversation vanishing. "Naruto," he said, voice hard with authority, "if you know something specific about village security, you need to tell me now."

Naruto hesitated, caught between his knowledge and his strategy. Revealing his awareness of Mizuki's plot might protect the scroll and Iruka, but it would also force questions he wasn't ready to answer. Questions about his impossible knowledge, about his abilities, about what else he might know.

"I just have a bad feeling," he said finally, retreating into childish vagueness. "My... special eyes showed me something weird." It wasn't a lie—Mizuki's timeprint had indeed revealed itself through his dojutsu.

"Your eyes." Hiruzen's voice softened slightly. "Yes, we should discuss those someday soon, shouldn't we? These special eyes that seem to show you so many... interesting things."

The subtle warning in his tone was clear. The Third hadn't forgotten Naruto's previous warnings about the Uchiha, warnings that had seemed like a child's nightmare until blood soaked the compound floors.

"Maybe," Naruto agreed, suddenly anxious to retreat. He'd said enough—planted the seed of suspicion that might lead to closer monitoring of the Academy staff. "Anyway, I should go! Got homework and stuff!"

"Naruto." The Hokage's voice stopped him at the door. "Whatever you think you know, whatever you think you see with those eyes of yours—be careful. Not all knowledge is a blessing."

The words followed Naruto down the spiral staircase, echoing in his mind as he emerged into the evening air. The irony wasn't lost on him—a man who had concealed village secrets warning him about the burden of knowledge.

"I know more than you can imagine, Old Man," Naruto murmured to the darkening sky. "And that's the problem."

---

Moonlight silvered the Academy rooftop as Naruto crouched in shadow, tracking Mizuki's movements through the building below. The instructor moved with practiced stealth, checking corridors before advancing, disabling simple security seals with casual expertise. To most observers, he would appear merely as a teacher working late—but Naruto's dojutsu revealed the crimson timeprint blazing around him like a malevolent aura.

Two weeks had passed since his conversation with the Hokage. Two weeks of careful observation, of mapping Mizuki's routines, of piecing together the instructor's plan through fragments of overheard conversations and the telltale trail of his timeprint. Tonight was reconnaissance, Naruto had deduced—Mizuki's final check before the actual theft.

In his original timeline, Mizuki had approached Naruto after the graduation exam, using his failure as leverage to manipulate him. That was still months away—yet the instructor's preparations were already advancing. Something had changed, accelerating the timeline.

Me, Naruto realized with a cold certainty. I changed something.

Small adjustments, butterfly wings creating storms. Perhaps his performance at the Academy—deliberately average rather than failing—had altered Mizuki's calculations. Perhaps his conversation with the Hokage had increased security in ways he hadn't noticed but Mizuki had. Perhaps a thousand tiny shifts in the fabric of events had cascaded into this moment.

Below, Mizuki paused at a window, peering toward the administration building where the Scroll of Sealing was kept. His timeprint flared with anticipation, with greedy purpose.

Naruto's fingers curled against the rooftop tiles. He could stop this now—alert the ANBU he knew were watching the Hokage Tower, create a distraction, any number of interventions. But with sudden strategic clarity, he recognized the opportunity before him.

This wasn't just about stopping one theft, saving one scroll, protecting Iruka from one treacherous colleague. This was about addressing the root cause—Mizuki's connection to Orochimaru, the corrupt system that had allowed a traitor to teach Konoha's children for years. If he played this correctly, he could expose far more than a single plot.

Mizuki slipped away from the Academy, heading not toward his apartment but to the village outskirts. Naruto followed, a shadow among shadows, his chakra suppressed to near-invisibility. Three years of training his child's body had yielded results—not the power of his former self, but something more controlled, more refined.

At the edge of the village, in the deepening darkness of the forest, Mizuki met a hooded figure. Their conversation was too distant to hear, but Naruto didn't need words—the second figure's timeprint told him everything. Sickly purple-black, vibrating with unnatural rhythms, twisted in ways that made his stomach clench.

Kabuto. Orochimaru's right hand, his spy, his surgeon. Already infiltrated into Konoha's systems, already corrupting from within.

Naruto's breath caught in his throat. This was bigger than he'd anticipated—not just Mizuki acting alone, but a direct line to Orochimaru's network. Knowledge that could potentially prevent the Chunin Exam invasion, save the Third Hokage's life, protect Sasuke from the curse mark.

As Mizuki and Kabuto concluded their meeting, a plan crystallized in Naruto's mind. Not a prevention but a controlled burn—let the plot progress under careful watch, gather evidence, expose not just Mizuki but his entire network of contacts. The original graduation exam incident would become something entirely different—a counterintelligence operation with Naruto at its center.

The first major change to the timeline was approaching. And this time, Naruto wouldn't be an unwitting pawn—he would be the player moving the pieces.

As he made his way back to his apartment, silver rings pulsing softly in his eyes, Naruto felt the shift of possibility around him—futures branching, splitting, reforming. The weight of his knowledge pressed against his chest, both burden and weapon.

"The game begins," he whispered to the stars above Konoha, his village, his responsibility across two lifetimes. "And this time, I know all the rules."

# Chapter 4: Ripples of Change

The Academy classroom buzzed with a nervous energy that vibrated in the air like plucked wire. Sunlight slashed through half-drawn blinds, cutting golden bars across anxious faces as students fidgeted at their desks. Exam day. Graduation day. The pivot point that would transform children into shinobi or send them back for another year of lessons.

Naruto slouched in his seat, projecting boredom while his mind raced with calculations. Four years of meticulous planning had led to this moment—the first major nexus point where the timeline could be fundamentally altered. His leg bounced with restless energy beneath the desk, not entirely an act.

"Nervous?" Kiba smirked from the seat beside him, canine teeth flashing. "Bet you twenty ryo you blow it on the clone jutsu again."

"Shut up, dog breath." Naruto flicked a paper ball at him, the childish gesture masking strategic intent. The taunt was exactly what he needed—public acknowledgment of his supposed weakness, setting the stage for his deliberate failure.

Iruka appeared at the front of the class, clipboard in hand, the scar across his nose crinkling as he smiled. "When I call your name, proceed to the examination room."

One by one, students disappeared through the door, emerging minutes later with headbands glinting in the sunlight or tear-streaked faces of disappointment. The room emptied slowly, tension mounting with each departure.

"Uchiha Sasuke."

Sasuke rose with fluid grace, hands buried in his pockets. As he passed Naruto's desk, their eyes met for the briefest moment. Something electric crackled in that split-second—recognition, perhaps, or the phantom echo of a rivalry spanning two lifetimes.

"Good luck," Naruto murmured, too low for others to hear.

Sasuke's step faltered, almost imperceptibly, before he continued without acknowledgment. But Naruto caught it—the minute disruption in his rhythm, the fractional widening of dark eyes. Another small change, another ripple spreading outward.

When Sasuke returned, Konoha headband already tied in place, the classroom erupted in predictable squeals from his admirers. Naruto watched as Sasuke resumed his seat, noting how his posture differed from memory—spine slightly less rigid, shoulders marginally more relaxed. Four years of subtle interactions had chipped away at the fortress of his isolation, even if Sasuke himself didn't recognize it.

"Uzumaki Naruto."

The moment had arrived. Naruto bounced to his feet with manufactured enthusiasm, punching the air. "Finally! Time to show 'em what a future Hokage can do!"

Kiba snickered. Someone muttered, "Yeah, right." The familiar soundtrack of his youth, now strategic background noise for the scene he was orchestrating.

The examination room smelled of chalk dust and the faint metallic tang of transformative chakra. Iruka and Mizuki sat behind a table, the latter's smile as false as a paper moon. Behind his friendly mask, his timeprint blazed crimson against Naruto's enhanced perception—anticipation, calculation, opportunity.

"Alright, Naruto," Iruka said warmly. "Let's see the clone jutsu."

Naruto formed the seals with deliberate imprecision, channeling chakra with calculated inefficiency. "Clone Jutsu!"

A puff of smoke erupted, clearing to reveal a single clone—pale, malformed, grotesquely slumped on the floor. Pitiful. Exactly as intended.

"Failed!" he wailed, clutching his head in apparent despair. "No way!"

Iruka's face fell. "I'm sorry, Naruto. You didn't pass."

"Iruka-sensei," Mizuki interjected, poison honeyed voice exactly as Naruto remembered, "perhaps we could make an exception. He did create a clone, and his determination is remarkable."

"Mizuki-sensei," Iruka shook his head, "everyone else produced at least three functional clones. The rules are clear."

Perfect. The scene played out like a script Naruto had written, setting the stage for what would follow. As he dragged his feet from the room, shoulders slumped in apparent devastation, he caught Mizuki's calculating gaze following him—the predator eyeing its prey.

Take the bait, Naruto thought. I'm waiting for you.

---

Sunset painted Konoha in blood and gold, long shadows stretching like grasping fingers across the Academy swing where Naruto perched, the picture of adolescent dejection. From this vantage point, he watched the graduating class celebrate with proud parents, their joy a kaleidoscope of hugs and tears and promises of celebration dinners.

Sakura's laughter rang like wind chimes as her mother fussed with her new headband. Shikamaru's father clapped a lazy hand on his son's shoulder, pride disguised as nonchalance. Even Sasuke stood apart but within the circle of light, his solitary figure nonetheless part of something Naruto pretended to be excluded from.

The air shifted behind him, disturbed by calculated movement.

"Naruto-kun." Mizuki's voice dripped false sympathy like venom from a fang. "May I join you?"

Right on cue. Naruto dragged the back of his hand across eyes he'd deliberately reddened. "Sure, Mizuki-sensei."

The instructor settled beside him, silver hair catching the dying light. "You know, Iruka-sensei can be rather strict. He wants what's best for you."

"Doesn't feel like it," Naruto muttered, feeding the script.

Mizuki leaned closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that raised goosebumps along Naruto's arms. "Can I tell you a secret? There's a special way to graduate..."

The trap was sprung. As Mizuki outlined the "special test"—stealing the Scroll of Sealing, learning a technique from it—Naruto feigned wide-eyed hope, watching the instructor's timeprint writhe with dark satisfaction. Every word matched his memory, yet this time Naruto controlled the board rather than being a pawn sacrificed for another's strategy.

"You really think I could pass that way?" Naruto injected pathetic eagerness into his voice.

Mizuki's hand landed on his shoulder, fingers digging in slightly too hard. "I believe in you, Naruto-kun. Tonight, midnight, at the old cabin in the eastern forest. Don't tell anyone—it's a test of discretion too."

As Mizuki departed, Naruto allowed himself a genuine smile. Behind his eyes, silver rings pulsed with power and purpose.

Game on.

---

Midnight transformed the forest into a realm of silver and shadow, moonlight spilling through leaves to dapple the ground with ghostly patterns. Naruto leaned against a gnarled oak, the massive Scroll of Sealing propped beside him, its forbidden contents supposedly unknown to his young eyes.

He'd executed the theft flawlessly—a distraction in the west quadrant drawing ANBU attention, chakra suppressed to near-invisibility, movement too quick for standard sensors to track. The alarm had been raised, but too late. Jōnin would be combing the village while Naruto waited at the predetermined meeting spot, apparently oblivious to the chaos he'd created.

But unlike his first life, this time Naruto had left breadcrumbs—a deliberate chakra flare near Iruka's apartment, a whispered conversation with a shadow clone transformed as Mizuki that could be overheard by an "accidentally" awakened shopkeeper. Insurance that the right people would find him at the right time.

The scroll stood tantalizingly beside him, its contents a treasure trove of forbidden knowledge. Naruto unwound it partially, eyes skimming familiar jutsu. In his previous life, he'd learned Shadow Clone Technique in these stolen moments. This time, he already knew it—had spent years refining it in secret training grounds—but still he practiced the motions, building a convincing tableau of a desperate student.

A twig snapped. Chakra flared—familiar, comforting.

"NARUTO!"

Iruka burst into the clearing, face contorted with a complex blend of fury, worry, and disappointment that squeezed Naruto's heart. This man—who had acknowledged him first, who had saved his life multiple times, who had been like the father he never had—looked at him now as a troublemaker, a thief, an unknown quantity.

Naruto scratched the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. "Ah, Iruka-sensei! You found me already? I only had time to learn one technique!"

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Iruka's voice cracked like thunder. "The entire village is searching for you! The scroll—"

"Mizuki-sensei told me about it!" Naruto interrupted, watching realization dawn on Iruka's face like a slow sunrise. "He said if I learned a technique from this scroll, you'd let me graduate!"

Iruka's expression shifted from anger to confusion to horrified understanding in the space of a heartbeat. "Mizuki told you that?"

The air whispered a warning—metal cutting through it at lethal speed. Naruto tensed, ready to move, but Iruka was already in motion, shoving him aside as massive shuriken sliced through the space where he'd been standing. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc as one caught Iruka across the back, significantly less severe than in Naruto's original memory.

"I'm impressed you figured it out, Iruka." Mizuki's voice slithered from the shadows as he dropped from a tree branch, moonlight gleaming on his Konoha headband—a loyalty symbol that had become a lie. "But you're too late."

Naruto scrambled backward, feigning panic while his mind calculated trajectories, chakra signatures, optimal positioning. His dojutsu burned behind his eyes, desperate to activate, but he held it in check. Not yet. Timing was everything.

"Naruto, don't let Mizuki get the scroll!" Iruka gasped, pulling the shuriken from his flesh with a wet sound that turned Naruto's stomach. "It contains forbidden jutsu that could destroy the village!"

Mizuki's laugh shattered the forest quiet, startling roosting birds into flight. "Don't be so dramatic, Iruka. The scroll isn't going to destroy the village—it's going to change it." He fixed Naruto with a predator's stare. "Give me the scroll, Naruto. Iruka is just trying to keep you from graduating."

"Don't listen to him!" Iruka staggered to his feet, blood darkening his chunin vest. "He's using you!"

Mizuki's lips curled into a sneer. "Oh? And Iruka isn't using you? The entire village has been using you, Naruto. Do you want to know why everyone hates you? Why you've been alone your entire life?"

"No, Mizuki!" Iruka shouted. "It's forbidden!"

"The Nine-Tailed Fox that attacked the village twelve years ago—the monster that killed Iruka's parents and countless others—wasn't destroyed. It was sealed inside a baby." Mizuki's eyes gleamed with malice. "Inside you, Naruto. You are the Nine-Tailed Fox!"

The clearing went silent, even the night creatures holding their breath. In his first life, this revelation had shattered Naruto's world, explained a lifetime of loneliness and hatred, triggered a cascade of emotions that had unleashed the Nine-Tails' chakra for the first time.

Now, Naruto merely tilted his head, eyes steady on Mizuki's triumphant face.

"Yeah," he said, voice eerily calm. "I know."

The simple response hit Mizuki like a physical blow, his expression contorting with confusion. "What? How could you possibly—"

"Is that supposed to be some big shock?" Naruto interrupted, stepping forward with dangerous grace that belied his small stature. "You think I haven't figured out why adults look at me like I'm garbage? Why whispers follow me everywhere? I'm not stupid, Mizuki-sensei."

The honorific dripped with sarcasm, sharp enough to cut. Behind him, Iruka made a choked sound—surprise or pain, possibly both.

Mizuki recovered quickly, hands moving to the second massive shuriken strapped to his back. "It doesn't matter what you know. You're still the demon brat, and once you're dead, I'll take the scroll to Lord Orochimaru."

There it is. The name Mizuki shouldn't have revealed, the connection that hadn't been exposed until much later in the original timeline. Naruto felt a fierce satisfaction as he sensed another chakra signature approaching—ANBU, right on schedule, close enough to hear the confession but not yet interfering.

"I don't think so." Naruto's voice dropped an octave, shedding its childish pitch for something harder, colder. "You're not killing anyone tonight."

Mizuki laughed, the sound jagged with contempt. "And who's going to stop me? You? The dead-last who can't even create a proper clone?"

Naruto smiled, and there was nothing of the child in it. "Exactly."

His hands flashed through seals faster than Mizuki's eyes could track. The forest exploded with smoke and sound as hundreds of shadow clones materialized, surrounding the clearing in a ring of identical blond boys with identical deadly expressions.

"What—?!" Mizuki stumbled back, terror replacing arrogance as he found himself trapped in a circle of Narutos. "This is impossible!"

"Apparently not." Every clone spoke in unison, the effect chilling.

Then—and only then—did Naruto allow his dojutsu to activate.

Silver rings exploded from his pupils, concentric circles pulsing with ethereal light. Time itself warped around him, creating a bubble where he moved with liquid speed while Mizuki seemed to struggle through molasses. The traitor's movements slowed to a crawl, his second shuriken drifting through air thick as honey while Naruto stepped casually aside.

It was the first full combat activation of his Time Dojutsu, and the power coursing through him was intoxicating. Naruto moved through the frozen moment like a ghost, circling his opponent, studying the planes and angles of his face twisted in slow-motion horror.

Then he struck—not with the barrage of punches his younger self had once delivered, but with precise chakra-enhanced strikes to nerve clusters and pressure points. Techniques learned from Hinata in another lifetime, delivered with surgical accuracy.

Time snapped back to normal speed as Naruto released the dojutsu, saving his chakra reserves. Mizuki crumpled to the forest floor, limbs paralyzed, consciousness fading as his autonomic systems struggled against the targeted assault.

"Naruto..." Iruka's voice broke the silence, tinged with awe and confusion. "How did you...what was that...?"

"Is he dead?" one of the shadow clones asked, nudging Mizuki with his foot.

"No," Naruto replied, breathing hard from the chakra expenditure. "Just disabled. He needs to answer for his crimes—and for his connection to Orochimaru."

The name hung in the clearing like a dark omen. Behind them, leaves rustled as the hidden ANBU made their presence known, dropping from the trees with lethal grace.

"Uzumaki Naruto," a masked operative said, voice muffled behind a hawk-painted facade. "The Hokage requests your immediate presence."

---

Dawn crept over Konoha, painting eastern skies with delicate brushstrokes of rose and gold. Naruto sat cross-legged on the Hokage Tower roof, a freshly-minted headband resting in his lap, fingers tracing the spiraling leaf symbol etched into metal.

The night had unfolded exactly as he'd planned—Mizuki captured alive, his connection to Orochimaru exposed months earlier than in the original timeline, a thread now available for Intelligence to pull that might unravel broader conspiracies. The Third Hokage had been equal parts impressed and suspicious, his weathered face inscrutable as Naruto recounted a carefully edited version of events.

"A remarkable achievement for an Academy student," Hiruzen had said, smoke curling from his pipe. "Perhaps the most remarkable I've ever witnessed."

The unspoken questions had hung between them—about the shadow clones, about Naruto's inexplicable calm upon learning of the Nine-Tails, about the strange silver light Iruka had glimpsed in his eyes. But Naruto had deflected with feigned exhaustion and childish excitement about finally graduating, and the Hokage had allowed the subject to drop.

For now.

Footsteps approached from behind—deliberate, allowing him to hear the approach.

"There you are." Iruka settled beside him, bandages visible beneath his vest where Mizuki's shuriken had struck. "Thought I might find you up here."

Naruto leaned against his teacher's arm, allowing himself the simple comfort of contact. "Just watching the sunrise. Best view in the village."

They sat in companionable silence as light spilled across Konoha, glinting off windows and rooftops, transforming the village into a sea of amber and gold. When Iruka finally spoke, his voice was soft with wonder.

"You knew about the Nine-Tails already."

Not a question. Naruto nodded, choosing honesty where he could. "Figured it out a while ago. The whispers aren't exactly subtle."

"And it doesn't... bother you?"

Naruto considered his answer carefully. "It explains a lot. But it doesn't define me." He touched his stomach, where the seal lay hidden beneath his orange jumpsuit. "The fox is the fox. I'm me."

Iruka's hand landed on his head, ruffling blond spikes with affectionate roughness. "You're something else, Naruto. I've never seen a genin create that many shadow clones—or move that fast." A pause, laden with unasked questions. "For a moment, your eyes..."

"Trick of the moonlight," Naruto cut in quickly, fixing his gaze on the horizon. "So when do we get our team assignments?"

Iruka let the deflection pass. "Tomorrow morning. Report to the Academy at nine." He hesitated, then added, "I'm proud of you, Naruto. Whatever happens next, remember that."

The simple words pierced Naruto's heart with unexpected sharpness. In his first life, Iruka's acknowledgment had been revolutionary—the first time anyone had seen value in the demon container. Now, hearing it again with the wisdom of years, understanding the courage it took for Iruka to look past his parents' deaths, Naruto felt the full weight of what this man had given him.

"Thanks, Iruka-sensei," he managed, voice tight.

After Iruka left, Naruto remained on the rooftop, mentally reviewing the next phase of his plan. Team assignments would follow. In the original timeline, he'd been placed with Sasuke and Sakura under Kakashi's mentorship—Team 7, destined for greatness and tragedy in equal measure.

The team dynamic had been crucial to everything that followed. If he wanted to preserve certain elements of the future while changing others, maintaining that configuration was essential. But the team assignments were based partly on class rankings—with his deliberate mediocrity, would he still be placed with Sasuke, the rookie of the year?

Naruto rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. So many variables to control, so many butterfly wings that could spawn hurricanes. He'd need to visit the Academy records room, make subtle adjustments to ensure the desired outcome without raising suspicions—

"Congratulations on your graduation."

The voice hit Naruto like a lightning bolt. Soft, bored, perpetually late—achingly familiar.

Hatake Kakashi lounged against a chimney stack, orange book in hand, visible eye curved in what might have been a smile beneath his mask. The morning light caught in his silver hair, illuminating it like a halo.

Naruto froze, caught utterly off-guard. In his previous life, he hadn't met Kakashi until team assignments. This deviation from the timeline hadn't been in his calculations.

"Um, thanks," he managed, mind racing to assess this unexpected development. "Who are you?"

Kakashi's eye remained fixed on his book. "Just a jōnin who happened to hear about a remarkable Academy student who created hundreds of shadow clones and took down a chunin-level traitor." He turned a page with deliberate slowness. "Impressive for someone who supposedly couldn't create a single functional clone yesterday afternoon."

Alarm bells screamed in Naruto's mind. Kakashi—analytical genius, former ANBU captain—was the last person he wanted scrutinizing his inconsistencies this early in the game.

"I'm a fast learner," Naruto said with a shrug, striving for nonchalance.

"Hmm." Kakashi closed his book with a snap. "You know what's interesting about shadow clones, Naruto-kun? They're not just copies. They're chakra constructs that retain experiences and memories. When they disperse, all that knowledge returns to the original."

Naruto blinked, affecting confusion while inwardly cursing. Kakashi wasn't supposed to reveal that particular detail until much later, after their mission to Wave Country. The fact that he was mentioning it now implied suspicion, testing whether Naruto already knew this supposedly advanced information.

"That sounds... useful," Naruto said carefully. "For training and stuff."

"Very useful," Kakashi agreed, eye narrowing slightly. "I wonder how a genin fresh out of the Academy would discover such an advanced technique, let alone master it in a single night."

The question dangled between them like a kunai on a thread. Naruto scrambled for a plausible explanation that wouldn't raise further suspicions.

"I didn't just learn the Shadow Clone Jutsu," he improvised. "The scroll had notes about how they work, what makes them different from normal clones. I've always been better at learning by doing than from lectures. Guess that's why I failed the Academy exam, huh?"

For a long moment, Kakashi simply studied him, his single visible eye unreadable. Then he shrugged, the tension dissolving as suddenly as it had appeared.

"Well, in any case, it seems Konoha has gained an interesting new genin." He pushed away from the chimney, slipping his book into a pocket. "I look forward to seeing what you accomplish, Naruto-kun."

As Kakashi disappeared in a swirl of leaves, Naruto released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The encounter had been a warning—a reminder that he wasn't the only strategic mind in Konoha. If Kakashi was already watching him, others might be as well.

He needed to be more careful. More deliberate. The stakes were too high for careless missteps.

---

The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the training grounds as Naruto approached the Memorial Stone, its polished surface reflecting the light like black glass. Names of fallen heroes carved in solemn rows—some he recognized from history lessons, others he knew personally in a timeline that now existed only in his memory.

His fingers traced over empty spaces where names had once been—would have been—might never be now. Hyūga Neji. Sarutobi Asuma. Jiraiya. His parents, Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina, were already there, their sacrifice preserved in stone for eternity.

"I'm changing things," he whispered to the monument, to the spirits it represented. "Some of you won't end up here this time. I promise."

Twilight gathered in the forest as Naruto knelt before the stone, head bowed, silver rings pulsing softly behind closed lids. He could feel timeprints here—hundreds of them, overlapping and intertwining as mourners visited over the years. Grief hung in the air like morning mist, but beneath it ran currents of determination, of resolve, of the Will of Fire passed from generation to generation.

When he finally opened his eyes, stars had begun to appear in the deepening blue above. Tomorrow would bring team assignments, the first meeting with Kakashi as their official sensei, the beginning of Team 7's journey. A journey Naruto intended to guide along a different path than before.

"Watch over me," he murmured to the stone, to his parents' names, to the empty spaces he was fighting to keep empty. "I won't fail this time."

As Naruto turned to leave, a ghostly blue timeprint shimmered at the edge of his enhanced vision—recent, powerful, distinctive. He reached out, brushing its edge with spectral fingers, and knew immediately who had stood in this spot mere hours before.

Kakashi. Mourning his own ghosts, unaware that the boy he'd just met carried the weight of futures where even more names would be carved into this stone.

Naruto squared his shoulders and walked away from the memorial, determination hardening within him like cooling steel. The game was changing, pieces moving in unexpected patterns, but the objective remained clear: save those he could, change what he must, preserve what was precious.

Behind him, shadows lengthened across the stone as night claimed the forest. Above, stars winked into existence one by one—silent witnesses to the ripples spreading outward from a single stone dropped into the river of time.

# Chapter 5: Bell Test Revelations

Morning exploded across Konoha in a riot of gold and crimson, sunlight fragmenting through dew-kissed leaves and casting dappled shadows across Training Ground Three. Naruto arrived first, drinking in the familiar landscape—three wooden posts standing sentinel in a clearing ringed by ancient trees, the glittering surface of a nearby stream catching fire in the dawn light. This place—where Team 7 had first become a team, where bonds had been forged that would shape nations—hummed with possibility.

He perched atop the center post, legs dangling, rehearsing strategies in his mind while tracking the sun's ascent. The timeline had shifted already—Mizuki's premature exposure, Kakashi's unexpected visit—and Naruto couldn't afford to rely on memory alone. He needed to be adaptable, ready for new deviations.

A flash of pink caught his eye—Sakura approaching through the trees, her hair gleaming like cherry blossoms in spring. Naruto's breath caught in his throat. She looked so young—face still soft with childhood, eyes unclouded by the horrors of war, hands that had not yet learned to heal or shatter mountains.

"Naruto?" She squinted up at him, surprise coloring her voice. "You're early."

He grinned down at her, balancing carefully on his perch. "Couldn't sleep! Too excited to meet our new sensei." He patted the post beside him. "Want to join me? Best view in the training ground."

Sakura hesitated, suspicion flitting across her features. In the original timeline, their relationship had begun with his hopeless crush and her exasperated rejection—a dynamic he had no intention of repeating.

"Come on," he coaxed, injecting just the right note of friendly camaraderie. "I don't bite."

After a moment's consideration, Sakura shrugged and scaled the post with nimble grace, settling beside him with her legs crossed. "Sasuke-kun should be here soon," she said, a blush dusting her cheeks at the mention of his name.

Naruto suppressed a sigh. Some things hadn't changed.

"So," he ventured, "are you nervous about having a jōnin sensei?"

The simple question cracked Sakura's composure like a hammer against glass. Suddenly she was talking—about her hopes for their team, her fears of inadequacy compared to clan children, her determination to prove herself. Words tumbled from her like water from a broken dam, revealing the insecurities that her brash exterior concealed.

Naruto listened, truly listened, seeing her in ways his younger self never had—not as a crush or a prize to be won, but as a teammate with her own dreams and demons. When she finally fell silent, she blinked as if surprised by her own candor.

"Sorry," she mumbled, looking away. "I don't usually talk so much."

"I like it when you talk," Naruto said simply. "You're smarter than most people realize."

Sakura's head whipped around, emerald eyes wide with startled pleasure. Before she could respond, the air shifted with the arrival of their third teammate.

Sasuke emerged from the treeline, hands shoved in his pockets, midnight eyes unreadable. He paused at the sight of them perched together, a fleeting expression—something almost like betrayal—flickering across his features before the mask of indifference slammed back into place.

"Sasuke-kun!" Sakura's voice pitched higher, her body language instantly transforming as she waved enthusiastically.

Sasuke nodded curtly in acknowledgment, taking up position beneath an oak tree, deliberately separate.

Naruto's jaw tightened. The fractures that would eventually splinter Team 7 were already present, hairline cracks in a foundation that hadn't yet been built. This time, he would seal those cracks before they could spread.

He dropped from the post in a fluid motion, landing with a grace that belonged to his older self rather than this gangly preteen body. "So," he announced, clapping his hands to draw their attention, "anyone know anything about this Kakashi guy?"

Sakura straightened, always eager to display knowledge. "I heard he's elite—some people call him the Copy Ninja."

"Kakashi of the Sharingan," Sasuke interjected, interest momentarily overriding his practiced disinterest. "They say he's copied over a thousand jutsu."

Perfect. Naruto had baited the hook, and both had bitten.

"A thousand jutsu, huh?" He whistled, moving to stand between them, bridging the physical gap as he hoped to bridge the emotional one. "Wonder what kind of test he'll give us."

"Test?" Sakura blinked.

Naruto adopted a conspiratorial tone. "Well, think about it—we passed the Academy exam, sure, but that just makes us genin on paper. You really think they'd let rookies like us join the shinobi forces without a final challenge? The jōnin senseis must have their own evaluations."

He watched understanding dawn in their eyes, the seeds of preparation taking root. Sasuke's posture shifted subtly, shoulders squaring with the promise of challenge. Sakura's brow furrowed in concentration, mind already racing through possibilities.

"So we should be ready for anything," Sasuke concluded, eyes narrowing.

Naruto nodded, fighting to keep triumph from his face. "And we should work together. Three genin against an elite jōnin? We'd never stand a chance alone."

Suspicion flashed across Sasuke's features. "What makes you think it'll be us against him?"

"Just a hunch," Naruto shrugged, feigning casualness while internally celebrating the engagement. Sasuke was talking, theorizing—*participating*.

Three hours later, the sun had climbed to its zenith, beating down mercilessly as they waited for their chronically late sensei. Sakura paced restlessly, muttering about punctuality. Sasuke remained beneath his tree, still as stone but for the occasional flick of a kunai between his fingers. Naruto had stretched out on the grass, apparently dozing but actually listening to his teammates' breathing patterns, tracking the gradual shift from anticipation to irritation.

The air shimmered with heat and tension when Kakashi finally appeared in a swirl of leaves, orange book in hand, visible eye curved in a smile that didn't reach it.

"Sorry I'm late," he drawled, not sounding sorry at all. "A black cat crossed my path, so I had to take the long way around."

"YOU'RE LATE!" Sakura exploded, finger jabbing accusingly.

Kakashi blinked lazily, attention shifting from his book to the three genin with the reluctance of a man parting with a beloved pet. "My first impression of you," he said slowly, "is that you're boring."

The calculated insult hit its mark—Sakura's face flushed with indignation, Sasuke's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Naruto—playing his part—squawked with theatrical outrage.

"Now," Kakashi continued, setting an alarm clock on one of the wooden posts, "let me explain your test."

Sunlight glinted off two small bells as he dangled them from gloved fingers. "You have until noon to take these bells from me. Whoever doesn't get a bell fails and returns to the Academy."

The air crackled with sudden tension as Sasuke and Sakura stiffened, eyes calculating distances to the bells, to each other, minds already positioning themselves as competitors rather than teammates.

"But sensei," Sakura's voice wavered, "there are only two bells."

"Very observant," Kakashi's eye crinkled with mock approval.

Naruto stepped forward, arms crossed, chin lifted in challenge. "So one of us fails no matter what? That's the stupidest test I've ever heard."

"The rules are the rules," Kakashi shrugged, attaching the bells to his belt with deliberate nonchalance. "Come at me with killing intent, or you won't stand a chance."

He raised his hand, visible eye surveying them with calculated boredom. "Begin."

Sasuke and Sakura vanished instantly, melting into the surrounding foliage with Academy-perfect stealth. Naruto remained in the clearing, feet planted, eyes locked on Kakashi's masked face.

"You know," Kakashi sighed, "a shinobi's basic skill is hiding."

Naruto grinned, the expression sharp and knowing. "Maybe I don't need to hide."

Kakashi's eyebrow rose fractionally. "Oh?"

"Nope." Naruto's hands flew through familiar seals. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

The clearing exploded with smoke and sound as twenty Narutos materialized, surrounding Kakashi in a ring of identical blond boys with matching feral grins. The jōnin's visible eye widened fractionally—the only indication of surprise from a man trained to reveal nothing.

"Interesting," Kakashi murmured, slipping his book into a pocket. "So the rumors were true. Mass shadow clones at your age is... unusual."

"I'm full of surprises," every Naruto replied in unison, the effect deliberately unnerving.

The assault began with choreographed precision—clones attacking in waves, not with the chaotic flailing of Naruto's youth but with coordinated patterns designed to test rather than overwhelm. Each movement was calculated to reveal information: Kakashi's preferred blocks, his reaction speed, the extent of his awareness during multiple simultaneous attacks.

From their hiding places, Sasuke and Sakura watched in stunned silence as Naruto—the dead-last, the class clown—pressed an elite jōnin into constant motion. It wasn't enough to threaten Kakashi, but it was far more than either had expected from their hyperactive teammate.

Naruto felt their attention like physical weight, knew his performance was reshaping their perception of him with each exchange. Good. The foundation for true teamwork couldn't be built on dismissal and underestimation.

Kakashi dispatched the last clone with casual efficiency, its form dissolving in a puff of smoke. The real Naruto stood at the edge of the clearing, breathing hard but grinning.

"Was that supposed to impress me?" Kakashi asked, visible eye half-lidded with affected boredom.

"Nope," Naruto replied cheerfully. "It was supposed to distract you."

Kakashi's eye widened a fraction too late as shuriken whistled toward him from the treeline—Sasuke's attack, perfectly timed. He dodged with fluid grace, only to find Sakura lunging from the opposite direction, kunai slashing toward the bells.

The jōnin evaded both attacks with insulting ease, but something had changed in the atmosphere of the clearing—the test had shifted from individual desperation to coordinated effort, three genin moving with nascent synchronicity.

"Working together?" Kakashi mused, deflecting another wave of shuriken. "Interesting strategy. But there are still only two bells."

"We'll figure that out after we get them," Naruto called, charging forward to engage Kakashi directly while his teammates regrouped in the foliage.

The hand signs were a blur—Tiger, Hare, Boar, Dog—as Kakashi's hands moved with supernatural speed. "Earth Style: Headhunter Jutsu!"

The ground beneath Naruto's feet softened like butter. Before he could react, he was dragged downward, earth closing around him until only his head remained above ground. Kakashi loomed over him, eye curved in a mocking smile.

"One down."

"Naruto, you idiot!" Sakura's voice rang from the trees, frustration palpable.

In the original timeline, this moment had been humiliating—proof of Naruto's inadequacy compared to his teammates. This time, it was part of the plan.

"Now, Sasuke!" Naruto shouted.

The air sizzled as a massive fireball erupted from the treeline, bearing down on Kakashi with devastating speed. "Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"

Kakashi's eye widened in genuine surprise—not at the jutsu itself, but at the timing, the coordination between genin who had barely interacted before today. He leapt away from Naruto, hands already forming countermeasures—

—and found Sakura waiting in his landing zone, chakra-enhanced fist driving toward his midsection with impressive precision for a fresh Academy graduate.

The jōnin twisted midair, evading by millimeters, only to spot Sasuke diving from above, hands outstretched toward the bells.

Something like respect flickered across what was visible of Kakashi's face as he reversed his momentum with impossible agility, sending Sasuke and Sakura crashing into each other while he flipped away to safety.

"Better," he acknowledged, dusting off his flak jacket. "But still not good enough."

From his buried position, Naruto closed his eyes, reaching deep within himself. The moment had come—the calculated revelation that would change everything.

Pressure built behind his eyelids, chakra surging through pathways that existed in different configurations than those of ordinary shinobi. When he opened his eyes, silver rings pulsed outward from his pupils, concentric circles of ethereal light that transformed ordinary blue irises into something ancient and otherworldly.

Time slowed.

The clearing crystallized into hyperclarity—dust motes suspended in sunbeams, individual beads of sweat frozen on Sasuke's forehead, the subtle tensing in Kakashi's shoulders that telegraphed his next movement before his brain had even sent the signal to his muscles.

Naruto flexed his chakra, and the earth holding him captive cracked, releasing him in an explosion of soil and stone that hung suspended in the altered timestream. With deliberate steps, he moved through the frozen moment, positioning himself precisely where Kakashi would step in his next evasive maneuver.

Then he released the dojutsu, time snapping back to normal flow, and was exactly where he needed to be as Kakashi backpedaled from Sasuke's renewed assault.

The jōnin collided with him, momentarily off-balance—a split-second vulnerability that would never have existed without Naruto's temporal manipulation. His fingers closed around the bells, yanking them free with a triumphant jingle.

The clearing went silent.

Sasuke and Sakura stared, frozen in matching expressions of disbelief. Kakashi stood unnaturally still, visible eye fixed on Naruto with an intensity that could have melted stone.

"Your eyes," he said softly, dangerously. "What was that?"

The silver rings were already fading, chakra pathways relaxing as Naruto allowed an expression of confused wonder to spread across his features. "I... I don't know," he stammered, the picture of a child confronted with an ability beyond his understanding. "It just... happened."

"Those weren't any dojutsu I've ever seen," Kakashi stated flatly.

Naruto swallowed hard, letting his hands tremble slightly as he held up the bells. "Did... did we pass?"

The abrupt change of subject might have worked on another jōnin. Not on Kakashi. His eye narrowed dangerously, killing intent leaking from him like frost.

"Sasuke, Sakura," he said without looking away from Naruto, "take a lunch break. You two pass."

"But the bells—" Sakura began.

"Now." The single word cracked like a whip.

After a moment's hesitation, they retreated, casting bewildered glances over their shoulders. Alone in the clearing with his future sensei, Naruto felt a chill that had nothing to do with the pleasant spring day.

"Talk," Kakashi commanded, all pretense of lazy indifference stripped away.

Naruto hesitated, weighing his options. The revelation of his dojutsu had been calculated, but Kakashi's intensity exceeded his predictions. Too much concealment now would breed dangerous suspicion; too much revelation could derail his plans entirely.

"I don't know what it is," he began, injecting his voice with a mix of excitement and apprehension that wasn't entirely feigned. "It started happening a few months ago—my eyes change, and suddenly I can... see things differently."

"Define 'differently,'" Kakashi pressed, looming over him like a silver-haired thundercloud.

Naruto took a deliberate step back, playing up the intimidated child angle. "It's like... time moves slower? I can see things before they happen—like I knew exactly where you'd step next, so I could be there waiting."

"A time-based dojutsu," Kakashi murmured, more to himself than to Naruto. "I've never heard of such a thing."

"Am I in trouble?" Naruto asked, voice small.

Something shifted in Kakashi's posture—a minute relaxation, a softening around his visible eye. "No," he said finally. "But the Hokage needs to know about this."

"Please don't tell everyone," Naruto blurted, genuine worry creeping into his voice. "People already look at me weird because of... you know."

The unspoken reference to the Nine-Tails hung between them. Kakashi studied him for a long moment, calculation and compassion warring behind his impassive exterior.

"For now, this stays between us, the Hokage, and your teammates who already saw it," he decided finally. "But Naruto—" his voice hardened "—no more secrets about this ability. If it activates again, if you discover new aspects of it, you tell me immediately. Understood?"

Naruto nodded vigorously, relief only partially feigned. "Yes, sensei."

"Good." Kakashi's eye curved in his signature smile, the tension dissolving as suddenly as it had appeared. "Now go join your teammates. And give them back their bells."

Naruto blinked. "Their bells?"

"The purpose of this test was to evaluate teamwork," Kakashi explained, hands sliding into his pockets with casual ease. "The three of you figured that out faster than any team I've ever tested. The bells were always a misdirection—but you already knew that, didn't you?"

The shrewd assessment caught Naruto off-guard. Had he been that transparent, or was Kakashi simply that perceptive?

"I just thought it made more sense to work together," he hedged.

"Hmm." The noncommittal sound conveyed volumes of skepticism. "Run along now. We'll meet here tomorrow morning for our first official mission."

As Naruto jogged toward his waiting teammates, he felt Kakashi's gaze boring into his back like a physical weight. The encounter had gone mostly according to plan—the dojutsu revealed, a plausible explanation offered, the foundation laid for future "discoveries" of its abilities—but Kakashi's suspicion exceeded his projections.

The Copy Ninja was sharper than even Naruto's memories suggested. A variable to be handled with extreme care.

---

"He did WHAT?" The Third Hokage's pipe clattered to his desk, momentarily forgotten as he stared at Kakashi with undisguised shock.

Twilight painted the Hokage's office in shades of amber and shadow, the village beyond the windows transitioning from day to night as Kakashi delivered his report. The jōnin stood at parade rest, visible eye fixed on a point just above Hiruzen's head, posture betraying none of the turmoil beneath.

"A dojutsu," Kakashi repeated flatly. "Unlike any I've ever encountered or heard described. Silver concentric rings expanding from the pupil, accompanied by what appeared to be significant temporal manipulation."

Hiruzen retrieved his pipe with fingers that trembled almost imperceptibly. "Describe the manipulation."

"He moved through a sequence that should have been physically impossible," Kakashi explained, "predicting my movement before I'd even decided on it. One moment he was trapped in my Earth Style jutsu, the next he was positioned exactly where I was about to step."

The Hokage inhaled deeply, smoke curling from his nostrils as he considered the implications. "You're certain it wasn't genjutsu? Or perhaps unusual application of the Nine-Tails' chakra?"

"There was no fox chakra," Kakashi confirmed. "I would have recognized that signature immediately. And genjutsu of that caliber would be beyond even most jōnin, let alone a fresh genin."

"Yet he created how many shadow clones during your test?"

"Twenty, without visible strain." Kakashi's jaw tightened beneath his mask. "Academy records indicated he couldn't create a single functional clone two days ago."

Hiruzen rose from his desk, moving to the window to gaze out at the village bathed in sunset. "This isn't the first unusual incident with Naruto," he said quietly. "There have been... reports. Moments of insight that a child his age shouldn't possess. Knowledge he shouldn't have."

Kakashi's attention sharpened. "What kind of knowledge?"

The Hokage waved a dismissive hand, unwilling to elaborate. "Fragments, impressions. Nothing concrete." He turned, fixing Kakashi with a penetrating stare. "What did the boy tell you about this ability?"

"Claims it manifested recently. That he doesn't understand it himself." Kakashi shrugged. "Could be true. Kekkei genkai often awaken under stress."

"But you don't believe him."

It wasn't a question. Kakashi hesitated, choosing his words with uncharacteristic care. "I believe he knows more than he's saying. Whether about the dojutsu specifically or... other matters."

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken suspicions. Finally, Hiruzen sighed, suddenly looking every one of his seventy-something years.

"Monitor him," he instructed, returning to his desk with measured steps. "Train him as you would any genin, but watch for further manifestations of this ability. Report directly to me, no written records."

"And his teammates? They witnessed the dojutsu."

"Let them believe it's a newly awakened kekkei genkai," Hiruzen decided, reseating himself with a grunt. "Unknown lineage from his mother's clan, perhaps. Better they see it as an asset than a threat."

Kakashi nodded, absorbing the directive. "And if the ability proves dangerous? Or if Naruto demonstrates other... anomalies?"

The question hung in the air between them, laden with implication. The Hokage's weathered hands folded atop his desk, knuckles whitening momentarily—the only outward sign of his internal conflict.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," he said finally. "Dismissed."

As Kakashi disappeared in a swirl of leaves, Hiruzen remained motionless behind his desk, gaze distant, mind racing through possibilities. Outside his window, stars began to emerge in the darkening sky, distant and cold as the calculations of power and security that shaped a Hokage's decisions.

"What are you?" he whispered to the empty office, pipe forgotten in his hand. "What are you becoming, Naruto Uzumaki?"

---

Moonlight spilled across Naruto's apartment floor as he sat cross-legged on his bed, windows open to the cool night air. The day's events played through his mind like a tactical simulation—moments of success, points of vulnerability, unexpected variables requiring adjustment.

The bell test had gone according to plan—mostly. His dojutsu was revealed, a plausible cover story established, the first seeds of true teamwork planted among the future Team 7. Kakashi's suspicion had been more intense than anticipated, but manageable.

For now.

A soft knock at his window interrupted his thoughts. Naruto tensed, reaching for the kunai hidden beneath his pillow before recognizing the chakra signature. "It's open," he called, relaxing fractionally.

Sasuke materialized from the darkness like a wraith, balanced on the windowsill with preternatural grace. His face was a mask of focused intensity, dark eyes reflecting moonlight as he fixed Naruto with an unwavering stare.

"We need to talk," he said without preamble.

Naruto nodded, gesturing to the worn chair in the corner. Sasuke ignored it, remaining perched at the threshold like a bird of prey prepared for immediate flight.

"Your eyes," he began, voice tight with something that might have been accusation or envy or both. "What was that today?"

The question hung between them, sharp as a blade. Naruto had expected this conversation—had planned for it—but the reality of facing Sasuke's intensity still set his pulse racing.

"I don't really know," he answered, injecting his voice with genuine uncertainty. "It started happening a few months ago. I see things... differently when it activates. Time seems to slow down."

"A dojutsu," Sasuke stated flatly. "Like the Sharingan or Byakugan."

"I guess so," Naruto shrugged, watching his teammate carefully. "But I don't come from a clan. At least, not one I know about."

Something flashed in Sasuke's eyes—a kaleidoscope of emotions too complex to name. "The Fourth Hokage sealed the Nine-Tails in you," he said abruptly. "Everyone knows that story now. But no one talks about who your parents were."

The observation was unexpectedly perceptive, striking dangerously close to secrets Naruto wasn't prepared to reveal. He tensed, keeping his expression neutral with effort. "What's your point?"

"My point," Sasuke slid from the windowsill into the room like liquid shadow, "is that powerful bloodlines don't appear from nowhere. If you have a dojutsu, you come from somewhere. Someone."

The implication hung in the air between them—that Naruto, like Sasuke, might have a heritage worth claiming. A heritage that had been kept from him.

"Maybe," Naruto conceded, treading carefully. "But right now, all I know is that it helps me protect my precious people." He met Sasuke's gaze directly. "Like my teammates."

The declaration struck some chord in Sasuke; Naruto could see it in the subtle shift of his posture, the fractional widening of his eyes. For the span of several heartbeats, something vulnerable and almost young flickered across Sasuke's face—a glimpse of the boy beneath the avenger's mask.

Then it was gone, shuttered behind practiced indifference.

"Just don't hold us back," Sasuke said finally, moving back toward the window. "Whatever that power is, learn to control it."

"I will," Naruto promised, knowing the words carried more weight than Sasuke could possibly understand. "And Sasuke?"

The Uchiha paused at the threshold, silhouetted against the night sky.

"Thanks for having my back today," Naruto said simply. "We make a good team."

Sasuke didn't respond, but he hesitated a fraction longer than necessary before disappearing into the darkness—a silence that spoke volumes more than words could have.

Alone again, Naruto leaned back against his headboard, a complex mix of emotions churning beneath his calm exterior. The foundations were being laid—trust forming where once there had been only rivalry and dismissal. Bonds strengthening that might withstand the storms to come.

Silver rings pulsed softly behind his eyes as he gazed out at the village bathed in moonlight. The first major pieces were in motion. The ripples of change spreading outward in patterns that even his time-sight couldn't fully predict.

But one thing was certain—nothing would unfold as it had before. Not if he could help it.

"One day at a time," Naruto whispered to the stars glittering above Konoha. "One change at a time."

The night wind carried his words away, scattering them like seeds across a village unaware that its future was being quietly, systematically rewritten by a boy with ancient eyes and memories of a timeline that would never come to pass.

# Chapter 6: Waves of Destiny

Mist clung to the forest path like ghostly fingers, swirling around the ankles of Team 7 as they escorted their client through the borderlands between Fire Country and Wave. Naruto's senses buzzed with hyperawareness—every snapping twig, every shift in wind direction magnified by the knowledge of what was coming. The puddle lay twenty paces ahead, shimmering innocuously in a stretch of road that hadn't seen rain in weeks.

Right on schedule.

"Keep your eyes peeled," Kakashi murmured, his tone casual but gaze sharp as he scanned their surroundings. "Border crossings can be unpredictable."

Tazuna, their bridge-builder client, clutched his sake bottle with white-knuckled tension. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cool morning air, his eyes darting nervously from shadow to shadow.

"Something wrong, old man?" Naruto asked, deliberately loud, playing his part with practiced ease.

"N-nothing," Tazuna stammered, taking a swig from his bottle. "Just anxious to get home."

Sasuke shot Naruto a warning glance—*quiet down*—while Sakura fussed with the position of her headband, pink hair catching the dappled sunlight filtering through the canopy. The three genin moved in loose formation around their client, maintaining the illusion of innocent inexperience while Naruto's mind raced with calculations.

The suspicious puddle gleamed ahead.

Naruto stumbled deliberately, scuffing his sandals in the dirt, creating just enough noise to cover Kakashi's nearly imperceptible hand signal. He knows. Of course he did—the Copy Ninja's reputation wasn't built on oversight. But like the first time, Kakashi would feign ignorance, testing his students' reactions.

They passed the puddle.

One heartbeat. Two.

Metal rasped against metal as chains unfurled with deadly precision. The Demon Brothers erupted from their disguise in a blur of poisoned claws and synchronized movement. Chains ensnared Kakashi, tightening with a sickening crunch as they appeared to tear the jōnin to shreds.

"One down," one brother hissed.

"Three to go," the other finished, already pivoting toward the genin with lethal intent.

Sakura screamed, the sound piercing through the forest quiet like a kunai. Genuine terror—this wasn't Academy practice or D-rank missions anymore. This was kill or be killed.

"Protect the bridge builder!" Sasuke barked, leaping into action with fluid grace, shuriken flying from his fingers to pin the attackers' chain to a nearby tree.

In the original timeline, Naruto had frozen, paralyzed by fear and shock. This time, he moved with calculated imprecision—just skilled enough to be useful, just clumsy enough to maintain his cover.

"I got this!" he shouted, channeling his younger self's bravado as he launched himself at the nearest brother.

Metal claws slashed toward his face with killing intent. Naruto twisted away—not quite fast enough—letting the poisoned tip graze his hand in a controlled scratch. Just like before.

Pain lanced up his arm, sharp and immediate despite his preparation. The Nine-Tails would neutralize the poison quickly, but the injury served its purpose—establishing the narrative while giving him freedom to act differently when it mattered most.

Sasuke moved like liquid shadow, planting a foot in each brother's face in a perfectly executed double kick. The attackers stumbled backward, breaking apart to flank the genin from opposite sides.

"Stay behind me!" Sakura shouted to Tazuna, kunai held in trembling hands but stance textbook-perfect.

The battle escalated with thunderous intensity—Sasuke engaging one brother with prodigious skill while Naruto and the second enemy circled each other. Blood dripped from Naruto's wounded hand, each crimson drop marking the seconds until Kakashi's planned intervention.

But this time, Naruto had a different script.

The attacker lunged, metal gauntlet gleaming with poisoned promise. Time seemed to slow as Naruto reached for his dojutsu—not fully activating it, but drawing just enough power to sharpen his perceptions. With precision impossible for a genin, he sidestepped the attack and planted a foot against the enemy's knee joint, applying pressure at exactly the right angle.

Bone snapped with a wet crack. The Demon Brother howled, crumpling as his leg gave way beneath him.

Across the clearing, Sasuke's eyes widened fractionally at the display of unexpected competence.

Before either boy could press their advantage, the air displaced with deadly silence. Kakashi materialized between them, each hand clamped around a Demon Brother's throat, subduing them with effortless strength.

"Excellent work," he said, visible eye curved in approval that didn't quite mask his calculating assessment. "Though I'm curious why Naruto allowed himself to be injured."

Damn it. Kakashi's perception exceeded even Naruto's adjusted expectations.

"I didn't allow anything," Naruto protested, clutching his bleeding hand with manufactured defensiveness. "He was fast!"

"Hmm." Kakashi's noncommittal sound conveyed volumes of skepticism as he secured the attackers with efficient movements. "We should treat that wound. The claws were poisoned."

"What?!" Naruto exclaimed, injecting panic into his voice while mentally tracking the Nine-Tails' chakra already neutralizing the toxin. "Am I gonna die?!"

Sakura rushed to his side, medical knowledge from Academy texts spilling forth in nervous commentary. "We need to extract the poison quickly! Open the wound and—"

"That won't be necessary," Kakashi interrupted, fixing Naruto with a penetrating stare. "The cut is superficial, and some people have... natural resistance to toxins."

The subtle emphasis sent a clear message: Kakashi knew about the Nine-Tails' protective qualities. Another deviation from the original timeline—Naruto hadn't been expected to understand such hints in his first life.

While Sakura fussed over cleaning the wound anyway, Kakashi turned his attention to their client, killing intent sharpening the air around him. "I believe you have some explaining to do, Tazuna-san. Those weren't random bandits. They were targeting you specifically."

Tazuna crumpled like wet paper, sake bottle trembling in his grip. "I... I couldn't afford a B-rank mission," he confessed, voice breaking. "But please, you don't understand—Wave Country is dying. Gatō has a stranglehold on our economy, our shipping, our very lives. My bridge is the only hope we have!"

As the bridge builder spilled his tale of corporate tyranny and desperate poverty, Naruto exchanged glances with his teammates. Sasuke's face remained impassive, but his eyes burned with something that might have been indignation at the deception or anticipation of greater challenges ahead. Sakura looked torn, compassion warring with protocol.

"This mission is now at least B-rank, possibly higher," Kakashi stated once Tazuna finished. "We should return to Konoha and request proper reassignment."

"We can handle it," Sasuke said immediately, arms crossed over his chest.

Sakura nodded, resolve hardening her features. "Those people need help."

All eyes turned to Naruto. In the original timeline, he'd made a dramatic blood oath, stabbing his infected hand to prove his determination. This time, he opted for quieter certainty.

"We're already here," he said simply. "And if we don't help them, who will?"

Kakashi studied his genin team, something like pride flickering behind his mask. "Very well," he conceded. "But from this point forward, we proceed with extreme caution. This isn't a game anymore."

It never was, Naruto thought, feeling the weight of futures-that-might-be pressing against his consciousness. And this time, I'm changing the rules.

---

Water lapped against the small boat as they glided through dense fog, the boatman's oar dipping silently into the sea. The massive, half-constructed bridge loomed overhead like a sleeping giant, its incomplete spans stretching toward the mainland with desperate hope.

"That's... incredible," Sakura whispered, neck craned to take in the engineering marvel.

"It's our future," Tazuna replied, voice low but vibrating with fierce pride. "Once completed, Gatō's shipping monopoly ends. Wave Country can breathe again."

Naruto trailed his fingers through the cold water, mind racing ahead to what awaited them. Zabuza. Haku. Names that carried the weight of tragedy and missed opportunities. Potential allies who had become casualties of circumstance and manipulation.

Not this time.

Mist thickened around them as they approached the shoreline, transforming familiar shapes into looming specters. The boatman's anxiety was palpable, sweat glistening on his brow despite the chill as he scanned for Gatō's patrol boats.

"Almost there," he murmured, steering toward a hidden inlet. "Once you disembark, I'll need to leave immediately."

The boat scraped gently against land. Team 7 and Tazuna stepped onto Wave Country's soil, the mist curling around them like curious fingers.

"Thank you," Naruto said quietly to the boatman, the simple gratitude carrying unexpected weight.

The man nodded, pushing back into deeper water before the mist swallowed him completely.

"Tazuna's house is about an hour's walk," Kakashi said, adjusting his headband to reveal his Sharingan eye. "Stay alert."

They moved through mist-shrouded forests, every sense heightened by the knowledge of imminent danger. Naruto tensed at the rustle of underbrush, throwing a kunai with deliberate overreaction.

A terrified white rabbit bolted from the foliage, kunai embedded in the tree above it.

"Naruto, you idiot!" Sakura hissed, smacking his arm. "It's just a rabbit!"

A white rabbit in summer, Naruto noted, exchanging significant glances with Kakashi. Raised indoors. A substitution target.

The whistle of displaced air was their only warning.

"GET DOWN!" Kakashi roared, tackling Tazuna as an enormous sword spun through the space where their heads had been moments before. It embedded in a tree trunk with a meaty thunk, vibrating from the impact.

A figure materialized atop the sword's handle—muscular and bandaged, killing intent rolling off him in palpable waves. Momochi Zabuza, Demon of the Hidden Mist, his eyes cold as the executioner's blade he wielded.

"Kakashi of the Sharingan," Zabuza's voice rumbled like distant thunder. "No wonder the Demon Brothers failed their mission."

"Zabuza Momochi," Kakashi responded, rising slowly. "Rogue ninja from the Hidden Mist. A-rank missing-nin wanted for attempted coup and assassination."

Mist thickened unnaturally around them, chakra-infused fog reducing visibility to arm's length. "I'm honored you've heard of me," Zabuza's disembodied voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere. "But I'm only here for the bridge builder. Hand him over, and you can walk away."

"Not happening," Kakashi replied, sliding into a combat stance. "Manji formation, protect Tazuna!"

The genin surrounded their client, kunai drawn, backs facing inward in a defensive triangle. Through the swirling mist, Naruto tracked Zabuza's movement by sound and disturbed air currents, knowing exactly when the assassin would strike.

"Eight points," Zabuza's voice slithered through the fog. "Larynx, spine, lungs, liver, jugular, subclavian artery, kidneys, heart. So many choices for a quick kill."

Killing intent saturated the air, so thick it became difficult to breathe. Sakura trembled beside Naruto, while Sasuke's knuckles whitened around his kunai.

"Don't worry," Kakashi called to his students, chakra flaring around him to dispel the psychological assault. "I'll protect you with my life. I don't let my comrades die."

"Bold promise," Zabuza materialized on the water's surface, hands locked in a jutsu seal. "Water Style: Water Prison Jutsu!"

Water erupted around Kakashi, trapping him in a perfect sphere with Zabuza's hand maintaining the prison from outside. The jōnin's eye widened in genuine surprise—not at the technique, but at how quickly he'd been ensnared.

"Run!" Kakashi shouted through the water barrier. "His water clone can't go far from his real body! Take Tazuna and escape!"

Zabuza laughed, the sound distorted by his bandages. "They're just children playing at being ninja. They'll die either way." Water condensed beside him, forming a perfect replica that stalked toward the genin with predatory grace.

In the original timeline, Naruto and Sasuke had worked together reactively, forming a desperate plan that eventually freed their teacher. This time, Naruto was prepared.

"Sasuke," he hissed, "I have an idea. But I need a distraction."

The Uchiha's eyes narrowed, pride warring with pragmatism. "What kind of distraction?"

"Fire. Lots of it." Naruto grinned, channeling his younger self's bravado. "And maybe some wire?"

Something like trust flickered across Sasuke's face as he nodded. "Sakura, guard Tazuna," he ordered, hands already forming seals.

The water clone bore down on them, massive sword gleaming with deadly intent. Sasuke leapt forward, lungs expanding with chakra-enhanced capacity.

"Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"

Multiple fireballs erupted from Sasuke's mouth, sizzling as they collided with the water clone. Steam hissed into the air, temporarily obscuring the battlefield. Through the vapor, nearly invisible wire glinted as Sasuke maneuvered the clone into position.

"Now, Naruto!" Sasuke shouted, yanking the wire taut around the clone's legs.

Naruto charged, hands forming his signature jutsu. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

Twenty Narutos materialized, surrounding the water clone in an orange blur. They weren't the distraction—Sasuke was. The real Naruto slipped away in the confusion, racing across the water's surface with chakra-bound feet, circling behind Zabuza's position.

Not yet, he told himself, suppressing the instinct to activate his dojutsu. Perfect timing is everything.

The moment arrived with mathematical precision—Zabuza's full attention on his water clone battling the Naruto duplicates, his stance widened to maintain balance on the water's surface, his imprisoned arm beginning to show strain from maintaining the water prison.

Naruto's eyes blazed silver, concentric rings pulsing outward as time slowed to a viscous crawl around him. The water beneath his feet seemed solid as glass, Zabuza's movements visible in fractional increments, the air particles surrounding the water prison individually discernible.

With surgical precision, Naruto drove a kunai toward the exact point where Zabuza's chakra anchored the water prison—not aiming for the missing-nin himself, but for the jutsu's structural weakness.

Time snapped back to normal flow as his dojutsu deactivated. The kunai struck with perfect accuracy, disrupting the chakra flow sustaining the prison. Water collapsed around a gasping Kakashi as Zabuza whirled toward Naruto, eyes widening with genuine shock.

"You—!" The swordsman's exclamation cut short as Kakashi's fist connected with his jaw, sending him skidding across the water's surface.

"Clever teamwork," Kakashi acknowledged, standing protectively in front of Naruto. "But I'll take it from here."

What followed was a dance of deadly elegance—Kakashi and Zabuza moving in mirrored synchronicity as the Sharingan predicted and copied each jutsu. Water dragons collided with thunderous impact, waves surging from the chakra-infused collision.

From the shoreline, Sasuke and Sakura watched with undisguised awe while protecting Tazuna from the elemental backlash. Naruto, however, scanned the surrounding trees, knowing Haku was watching, waiting for the perfect moment to intervene.

The battle reached its climax as Kakashi prepared his finishing move, hands flashing through seals that Zabuza recognized with growing horror. "That's—!"

"Your technique," Kakashi confirmed. "Water Style: Giant Vortex Jutsu!"

Water erupted in a spiraling torrent, smashing into Zabuza with devastating force and slamming him against a tree trunk. The missing-nin slumped, dazed and defeated, as Kakashi approached with kunai in hand.

"It's over," the Copy Ninja stated flatly.

Senbon whistled through the air, striking Zabuza's neck with surgical precision. The swordsman collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, eyes glazing over as his body went limp.

A masked figure materialized on a nearby branch—delicate despite the ANBU-style mask, long hair flowing in the gentle breeze. "Thank you for your assistance," Haku's soft voice carried across the clearing. "I've been tracking Zabuza for weeks."

"A Mist Hunter-nin," Kakashi observed, visible eye narrowed in assessment.

Haku bowed slightly. "I'll dispose of the body. It contains many secrets." They leapt down, lifting Zabuza's substantial weight with surprising ease.

"Wait," Naruto called, the single word layered with authority beyond his years.

Haku paused, mask tilting slightly. "Yes?"

"Hunter-nin dispose of bodies on the spot," Naruto stated, the knowledge impossible for a genin to possess. "They take only the head as proof."

Tension crystallized in the clearing. Kakashi's posture shifted subtly, prepared for renewed conflict, while Sasuke and Sakura moved closer to Tazuna.

"An astute observation," Haku replied after a heartbeat of silence. "For a genin."

"I read a lot," Naruto shrugged, then took a calculated risk. "But I also know what it's like to protect someone precious to you."

The masked figure went utterly still. "What do you mean?"

"Zabuza isn't your target. He's your precious person." Naruto stepped forward, ignoring Kakashi's warning gesture. "And you'd do anything to keep him safe—even pretend to be his enemy."

For several heartbeats, only the gentle lapping of water against the shoreline disturbed the silence. Then Haku's free hand rose slowly to remove the mask, revealing a face of androgynous beauty and eyes dark with surprise and wariness.

"How could you possibly know that?" they asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Naruto smiled, genuine compassion replacing strategic calculation. "Because I can see it in how carefully you placed those senbon. They put him in a death-like state without causing permanent harm."

Kakashi stepped forward, kunai still ready. "Naruto, move back. This could be a trap."

"It's not," Naruto insisted, maintaining eye contact with Haku. "They're just trying to survive. Like Tazuna. Like Wave Country itself." He gestured to the half-built bridge looming in the distance. "Gatō is the real enemy here—he's using you, Zabuza, and everyone else as pawns."

Haku's eyes widened fractionally. "You know of Gatō's involvement?"

"We know he hired Zabuza to kill Tazuna," Kakashi interjected, "to prevent the bridge from being completed."

"That's not all," Naruto added, drawing on knowledge he shouldn't possess. "Gatō never intended to pay Zabuza. Once the job was done, he planned to eliminate him—eliminate both of you—to avoid payment and remove potential threats."

The accusation hung in the air, its truth evident in Haku's expression as doubt crept into their certainty.

"He's lying," Haku said, but the conviction had drained from their voice.

"Am I?" Naruto challenged. "Ask yourself why a shipping magnate with hundreds of mercenaries would hire an expensive missing-nin for a simple assassination. It's because he wants Zabuza weakened by fighting us first."

Kakashi studied Naruto with alarming intensity, clearly wondering how his student had deduced such specific intelligence. Sasuke and Sakura exchanged bewildered glances, while Tazuna looked between the ninja with growing confusion.

"Look," Naruto continued, softening his tone, "we have the same enemy. Gatō is draining Wave Country dry. He's hurting innocent people. And he'll dispose of you both the moment you're no longer useful."

"What are you suggesting?" Haku asked, caution warring with curiosity.

"A truce," Naruto proposed. "Maybe more. Help us protect the bridge builder, finish the bridge, and free Wave Country. In return, we help you and Zabuza escape Gatō's inevitable betrayal." He gestured to Kakashi. "With a Konoha jōnin willing to vouch for you, there might even be... other options for your future."

The implication was clear—potential sanctuary, or at least passage to safety, something neither missing-nin could easily secure on their own.

Haku's eyes flickered to Zabuza's unconscious form, calculations running behind their delicate features. "He won't agree easily."

"He's pragmatic," Naruto countered. "And he cares about your survival, even if he doesn't show it."

Something shifted in Haku's expression—surprise at being so thoroughly read by a child, mixed with the first fragile seed of hope. "I... need to discuss this with him when he wakes."

"Fair enough," Kakashi interjected, taking control of the negotiation. "We'll be at Tazuna's house. Come unarmed and we'll talk terms." His tone left no doubt that any betrayal would be met with lethal force.

Haku nodded, hoisting Zabuza's body with renewed purpose. "Until then." They disappeared in a swirl of mist, leaving Team 7 and their client in stunned silence.

Sakura was the first to speak. "Naruto, how did you know all that about Gatō's plans?"

"Yes, Naruto," Kakashi's voice carried a dangerous edge. "How did you know?"

Naruto rubbed the back of his neck, mind racing for a plausible explanation. "It just made sense, you know? Why hire an expensive missing-nin when you've got a small army? And Gatō's got a reputation for backstabbing his allies—even in Konoha we've heard stories."

The excuse was flimsy, but Tazuna unwittingly provided backup. "The kid's right. Gatō's betrayed every partner he's ever had. It's how he built his empire—using people until they're no longer useful, then discarding them."

Kakashi's gaze remained fixed on Naruto for several uncomfortable heartbeats before he sighed, slumping slightly as chakra exhaustion from the Sharingan use caught up with him. "We can discuss intelligence gathering later. For now, let's get to Tazuna's house before I collapse."

As they helped their sensei limp through the forest, Sasuke fell into step beside Naruto, voice pitched low enough that only they could hear. "That wasn't just clever deduction."

It wasn't a question. Naruto met his teammate's intense gaze, seeing the analytical mind working behind those dark eyes. "Sometimes you just know things," he replied cryptically. "Like you knew I had a plan back there without me explaining it."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed fractionally, not satisfied but recognizing the deflection for what it was. "Your eyes changed again. During the water prison attack."

"Did they?" Naruto feigned confusion. "It happens when my adrenaline spikes. Still figuring it out."

The lie hung between them, adding another fracture to the foundation of their rebuilding trust. Naruto felt it like a physical pain—each necessary deception taking them one step further from the brotherhood they might have had. But the stakes were too high for complete honesty. Not yet.

Someday, he promised silently, watching Sasuke retreat into contemplative silence. Someday I'll tell you everything.

---

Sunrise painted Tazuna's backyard in watercolor hues, dew glistening on grass still flattened from yesterday's training. Naruto sat cross-legged beneath a towering pine, eyes closed in meditation while his teammates slept inside. Three days had passed since their arrival in Wave Country—three days of tentative alliance negotiations with Zabuza and Haku, of chakra control training, of rewriting history one careful adjustment at a time.

The sound of soft footsteps disturbed his concentration.

"You're up early," Haku observed, graceful even in the simple civilian clothes they now wore around Tazuna's house.

Naruto opened his eyes, smiling at the unexpected company. "So are you."

"Zabuza sleeps badly when injured." Haku settled beside him with fluid elegance. "And I've grown accustomed to keeping watch."

The easy domesticity of the scene struck Naruto with bittersweet intensity—this simple moment that had never existed in his original timeline, where Haku had remained an enemy until their tragic end on the bridge.

"How's he healing?" Naruto asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"Quickly. Your sensei's damage was significant but precise—meant to incapacitate rather than kill." Haku studied Naruto with those perceptive dark eyes. "As if he somehow knew we might become allies."

Naruto shrugged, deflecting the implicit question. "Kakashi-sensei is pretty smart."

"Hmm." The noncommittal sound conveyed volumes of skepticism. "You're not what you appear to be, Naruto Uzumaki."

The simple truth, stated without accusation, hung in the air between them. Naruto weighed his options carefully—what to reveal, what to conceal, how to build trust without exposing too much.

"Neither are you," he countered gently. "A kekkei genkai user pretending to be a Hunter-nin, protecting a missing-nin who saved you from death."

Haku's eyes widened fractionally. "How could you possibly—"

"The mist," Naruto interrupted. "When you're nervous or preparing to fight, ice crystals form in it. Too small for most to notice, but they catch the light if you know what to look for."

It was a fabrication—Naruto's knowledge came from a future that no longer existed—but the explanation sounded plausible enough to mask his impossible insight.

"You see a great deal for someone so young," Haku observed, wariness and curiosity battling in their expression.

"I've had to," Naruto replied, the simple answer carrying more truth than he'd intended.

Silence stretched between them, comfortable despite the undercurrent of mutual assessment. In the distance, fishing boats puttered out to sea, their motors a gentle percussion against the shoreline's natural rhythm.

"May I ask you something personal?" Haku's voice was soft, hesitant.

Naruto nodded, genuinely curious. This conversation—this connection—was uncharted territory, a deviation from the script that had once ended in ice mirrors and sacrificial death.

"Do you truly believe what you said? About protecting someone precious giving you true strength?"

The question caught Naruto by surprise. In the original timeline, he'd made that declaration after their battle, over Haku's dying body. Now, he was being asked directly, in peaceful conversation.

"With all my heart," he answered, absolute conviction resonating in his voice. "When you fight for yourself, you have limits. When you fight for someone you love, those limits disappear."

Haku's expression softened. "I felt that when I met Zabuza. Before him, I was... unnecessary. Unwanted. My own mother tried to kill me when my abilities manifested." Their fingers traced patterns in the dewy grass. "But Zabuza wanted me—needed me—precisely because of what made others fear me."

The confession, so intimate and vulnerable, created a bridge between them that transcended their negotiated alliance. Naruto felt the weight of this trust, the responsibility of this second chance.

"What will you do?" he asked quietly. "After Wave Country?"

Haku gazed toward the ocean, eyes distant. "I don't know. We've lived as tools for so long—Zabuza pursuing his revolution, me supporting his dream. But after Gatō's betrayal..." They hesitated. "Perhaps there are other paths."

"There are," Naruto affirmed with the certainty of someone who had walked many. "Paths where your abilities help instead of harm. Where you build instead of destroy."

"You speak as if you've seen these paths," Haku observed, perception uncomfortably acute.

Naruto smiled enigmatically. "Maybe I have."

Before Haku could press further, the backdoor slid open. Sasuke emerged, eyebrows raising fractionally at finding his teammate in deep conversation with their former enemy.

"Kakashi wants us," he announced, tone carefully neutral. "Says Gatō's men were spotted near the bridge. We move in an hour."

As Sasuke retreated inside, Haku rose with fluid grace. "It seems our theoretical alliance will be tested sooner than expected."

"We'll pass," Naruto said with absolute certainty, rising to stand beside them. "All of us."

Haku studied him for a long moment, something like understanding dawning in their eyes. "You know," they said quietly, "sometimes I feel you're guiding us all toward some future only you can see."

The observation struck too close to truth. Naruto forced a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with manufactured awkwardness. "Me? I'm just a genin."

"No," Haku replied simply. "You're not. But whatever you are—" their hand rested briefly on Naruto's shoulder "—I'm grateful our paths crossed."

As Haku walked away, Naruto felt the weight of diverging timelines pressing against his consciousness. The future unwinding before him was uncharted territory now, filled with possibilities that hadn't existed before—Zabuza and Haku alive, allegiances shifting, knowledge revealed earlier than intended.

Butterfly wings creating hurricanes.

---

Mist shrouded the massive bridge in ghostly white, transforming the half-completed structure into a spectral causeway vanishing into nothingness. Construction tools lay abandoned where workers had fled, metal gleaming dully in the diffuse light. The sea churned far below, invisible but audible as waves crashed against concrete pylons.

Team 7 advanced in tight formation around Tazuna, every sense hyperalert. Behind them moved Zabuza and Haku—tentative allies bound by mutual self-interest and Naruto's inexplicable certainty.

"Gatō's coming personally," Zabuza rumbled, massive sword strapped to his back. "He doesn't trust anyone else to verify our deaths."

"Approximately thirty mercenaries," Haku added, senbon glinting between elegant fingers. "Likely approaching by boat from the mainland side."

Kakashi nodded, Sharingan uncovered and scanning the mist. "Remember the plan. Protect Tazuna at all costs. Engage only when necessary. If Gatō attempts negotiation, we listen first."

"Negotiation," Zabuza scoffed, killing intent rolling off him in palpable waves. "The only negotiating that man understands comes from the edge of a blade."

The bridge creaked beneath their feet as they reached its midpoint, the place where concrete gave way to incomplete steel framework. Beyond, through swirling mist, dark shapes materialized—dozens of men carrying an assortment of weapons, led by a small figure leaning on a cane.

Gatō emerged from the fog like a malevolent spirit, expensive suit incongruous against the industrial backdrop. His small stature belied the arrogance in his stance, the absolute confidence of a man accustomed to power.

"Well, well," his voice carried across the open space, nasal and grating. "The Demon of the Mist, playing babysitter with Konoha brats? How far you've fallen, Zabuza."

The missing-nin growled, hand instinctively reaching for his sword before Kakashi's subtle gesture stopped him.

"Your services are no longer required," Gatō continued, gesturing expansively at his assembled mercenaries. "These gentlemen work for much cheaper rates. No hard feelings—just business."

"Told you," Naruto muttered under his breath. "Betrayal right on schedule."

Zabuza's eyes narrowed at the confirmation of Naruto's prediction, suspicion warring with increasing respect.

"We're not interested in your business proposition," Kakashi called back, voice carrying deceptive calm. "Leave Wave Country. The bridge will be completed. The people will be free."

Laughter erupted from the mercenary ranks, crude and dismissive. Gatō tapped his cane against the bridge surface, the sound echoing with finality.

"Look around you," he sneered. "You're outnumbered. Far from home. And about to become a cautionary tale for those who oppose Gatō Shipping."

He raised his hand, and the mercenaries surged forward with battle cries echoing across the misty expanse.

What followed was choreographed chaos—Kakashi and Zabuza forming an unlikely front line of lethal expertise, Haku's ice mirrors creating defensive positions that protected both Tazuna and the genin, Sasuke and Sakura engaged in coordinated combat that showcased their growing teamwork.

And Naruto—Naruto moved with calculated precision, his shadow clones multiplying the team's effective numbers while he mentally tracked each combatant's position, each potential threat, each moment where history might repeat itself.

In the original timeline, Haku had died protecting Zabuza from Kakashi's Chidori. Zabuza had died from multiple injuries while killing Gatō. The bridge had been completed, but at devastating cost.

Not this time.

Naruto spotted the trigger point before it developed—three mercenaries converging on Zabuza's blind spot while Kakashi was occupied with a separate group. In the ensuing chaos, Haku would leap to protect their master, placing themselves in death's path.

Without hesitation, Naruto activated his dojutsu. Silver rings exploded from his pupils as time crystallized around him, the battlefield transforming into a tableau of frozen potential. He moved through the suspended moment with ghostly precision, repositioning himself in the exact spot where tragedy had once unfolded.

As his dojutsu released and time rushed back to normal speed, Naruto's kunai intercepted the first mercenary's blade inches from Zabuza's back. His kick connected with the second attacker's chest, while a shadow clone tackled the third.

"Watch your back," he called to the startled swordsman, already pivoting to his next target.

Across the bridge, Sasuke had engaged a cluster of mercenaries with fire jutsu, his movements fluid and precise. But Naruto could see what his teammate couldn't—a hidden archer taking aim from behind a stack of construction materials.

"Sasuke! Three o'clock!" Naruto shouted, already running toward him, dojutsu activating again to stretch the seconds.

The arrow released, its trajectory deadly accurate toward Sasuke's unprotected back. Time slowed to a crawl as Naruto calculated angles, distance, wind resistance—then hurled a shuriken with mathematical precision to intercept the arrow midair.

Metal struck wood with a satisfying crack, the deflected arrow clattering harmlessly to the bridge surface.

Sasuke whirled, eyes widening at the near miss, then narrowing as they fixed on Naruto's face. "Your eyes—!"

"Later!" Naruto interrupted, hands already forming shadow clone seals to deal with the archer.

The battle tide turned with brutal efficiency as Wave Country villagers arrived, led by Tazuna's grandson Inari—ordinary citizens armed with farming tools and fishing spears, their numbers and righteous anger overwhelming Gatō's remaining forces.

Through the chaos, Gatō himself attempted escape, scurrying toward the unfinished end of the bridge like a cornered rat. Zabuza cut off his retreat, massive sword gleaming with promised retribution.

"Wait," Naruto called, the single word carrying such authority that even the bloodthirsty swordsman paused. "He needs to stand trial. Let the people he hurt decide his fate."

Zabuza's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Since when do children dictate justice to killers?"

"Since justice matters more than vengeance," Naruto replied, meeting the missing-nin's gaze without flinching. "Kill him, and you're just another mercenary. Let him face his victims, and you're something more."

Something shifted in Zabuza's expression—respect, perhaps, or the first glimmer of the humanity he'd suppressed for so long. With deliberate control, he lowered his sword, instead using the flat of the blade to knock Gatō unconscious.

"The boy makes a compelling argument," he said to the gathered villagers, who had fallen silent at the confrontation. "Your bridge, your oppressor, your justice."

A roar of approval went up as rough hands seized the unconscious tyrant. Naruto watched with satisfaction as the scene unfolded—so different from the bloodbath of his memories, so much more aligned with the values he'd eventually embraced as Hokage.

Beside him, Haku appeared silently, dark eyes reflecting something like wonder. "You knew," they said quietly, voice barely audible above the celebration. "Somehow, you knew exactly where to be, exactly what would happen."

Naruto's gaze remained fixed on the villagers, on this victory that contained no tragedy. "Maybe I just got lucky."

"No," Haku insisted, turning fully to face him. "On the bridge that day, when I first encountered your team—you knew who I was. What I was to Zabuza. Things no one could possibly know." Their voice dropped lower. "And your eyes... when you move that way, they change. Show me something real, Naruto Uzumaki. What are you?"

The direct question landed like a physical blow. Naruto had prepared for many contingencies, but Haku's perceptiveness exceeded his calculations. Looking into those earnest dark eyes, he felt the weight of deception heavy on his shoulders.

"I'm someone trying to change things," he said finally, offering a fragment of truth. "Make them better than they were before."

"Before what?" Haku pressed.

Before Naruto could respond, Sasuke materialized beside them, tension radiating from every line of his body. "We need to talk," he stated flatly, eyes fixed on Naruto with laser intensity. "About what happened during the fight. About your eyes."

The convergence of questions, of piercing perception from multiple angles, threatened to unravel Naruto's carefully constructed narrative. He opened his mouth, searching for a deflection, when Kakashi's hand landed heavily on his shoulder.

"Excellent work, everyone," the jōnin announced with deceptive casualness, visible eye curved in a smile that didn't quite reach it. "Once the bridge is secured, we can discuss next steps." His fingers tightened fractionally on Naruto's shoulder. "All of us. In detail."

The message couldn't have been clearer—explanations would be required, and soon. Naruto nodded, mind already racing through acceptable partial truths that might satisfy his growing audience without revealing the full impossible reality.

As the celebration continued around them, Team 7 and their unlikely allies gathered at the bridge's center, victorious but separated by secrets thick as the mist that had begun to lift. Sunlight broke through in golden shafts, illuminating the completed portion of the bridge in triumphant radiance.

"What happens now?" Sakura asked, voicing the question hanging in the air. "With them?" She gestured toward Zabuza and Haku.

Kakashi sighed, shoulders slumping slightly with chakra depletion. "That depends on many factors. Their willingness to cooperate with Konoha intelligence. The Hokage's discretion. Their own plans."

"We had no plans beyond this job," Zabuza admitted gruffly. "Surviving Gatō's inevitable betrayal is... an unexpected luxury."

"There are options," Naruto interjected, unable to help himself. "The Mist Village civil war is still ongoing. The rebellion against the Bloody Mist regime could use skilled fighters with insider knowledge."

Silence fell as every eye turned to him in various states of confusion and suspicion.

"How could you possibly know about Mist's internal politics?" Zabuza demanded, hand drifting toward his sword. "That information is closely guarded."

Damn it. Another careless revelation, another thread pulled loose from his carefully constructed facade. Naruto scrambled for a plausible explanation.

"I overheard ANBU discussing it," he improvised. "At the Hokage Tower. They don't always notice Academy students hanging around."

The excuse was flimsy, but before anyone could challenge it, the ground seemed to shift beneath Naruto's feet. A wave of dizziness crashed over him, vision blurring as chakra surged behind his eyes with unexpected intensity.

Silver rings exploded outward without his conscious control, the dojutsu activating with such force that he staggered backward. But instead of slowing time around him, it transported him elsewhere entirely.

The Chunin Exam arena, packed with spectators. Gaara's sand swirling with murderous intent. Sasuke, marked with Orochimaru's curse seal. Feathers falling as genjutsu took hold. ANBU masks hiding Sound ninja infiltrators. The Third Hokage facing Orochimaru on a rooftop. Giant snakes smashing through Konoha's walls.

The vision hit with such clarity, such sensory detail, that Naruto gasped aloud, dropping to one knee on the bridge's rough surface. His ears rang with screams that hadn't yet happened, nose filled with the acrid scent of jutsu discharged in enclosed spaces, skin crawling with the phantom sensation of killing intent directed at an entire village.

"Naruto!" Sakura's voice seemed to come from underwater, distorted and distant.

Hands gripped his shoulders—Kakashi's, steadying him as the vision released its hold. The dojutsu deactivated with a painful pulse, leaving Naruto trembling with the aftereffects of such intense foreknowledge.

"The exams," he gasped, the words escaping before he could censor them. "They're coming. The invasion."

"What invasion?" Sasuke demanded, crouching to eye level. "What are you talking about?"

Naruto blinked rapidly, reality reasserting itself as he registered the circle of concerned and suspicious faces surrounding him. The bridge. Wave Country. The present moment.

"I—I don't know," he stammered, genuine confusion coloring his voice. This development was unexpected—his dojutsu had never before triggered visions without his conscious control. "It was like... seeing something that hasn't happened yet."

"A premonition?" Haku suggested, fascination overriding caution.

"Or the Nine-Tails' influence," Kakashi countered, voice carefully neutral but grip tightening on Naruto's shoulder. "We should get you back to Tazuna's. Rest. Recovery."

And interrogation, the unspoken addendum hung in the air between them.

As Kakashi helped him to his feet, Naruto caught Sasuke's expression—intense focus mixed with something that might have been concern or envy or both. Beside him, Sakura's face showed open worry, while Zabuza and Haku exchanged loaded glances that spoke volumes about their reassessment of the supposed genin in their midst.

The foundations of his carefully constructed narrative were cracking, fault lines spreading beneath the weight of impossible knowledge and abilities that defied explanation. The mission to Wave Country had succeeded beyond his original timeline—Zabuza and Haku alive, the bridge completed without tragedy, new alliances formed.

But as Team 7 made their way back to Tazuna's house, with questions and suspicions swirling around him like autumn leaves in a whirlwind, Naruto couldn't escape the sinking feeling that his greatest challenge lay not in changing the future, but in explaining how he knew it in the first place.

Behind his eyes, silver rings pulsed with dormant power, while visions of chunin exams and village invasions pressed against his consciousness with terrible clarity. The next great test approached—and this time, the enemy might not be Orochimaru or the Sound Village, but the very people he was trying to protect.