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# What if Naruto Trains Himself Seriously After Incident in Wave

## Chapter 1: Awakening

The mist had finally cleared.

Naruto Uzumaki stood motionless on the Great Naruto Bridge, his bright orange jumpsuit a stark contrast against the somber gray of the morning fog that still clung to the edges of the massive structure. Blood stained the concrete beneath his feet—not his own, but that of two shinobi who, just moments ago, had been alive. The metallic scent of it hung in the air, mixing with the salt of the sea below.

His blue eyes remained fixed on the spot where Zabuza had fallen beside Haku, the boy with the gentle smile and the power of a jonin. The boy who had spared Naruto's life in the forest. The boy who had thrown himself in front of Kakashi's Chidori to save the man who had only ever seen him as a tool.

"Naruto." Kakashi's voice cut through his thoughts, gentle but firm. "It's time to go."

The blonde genin didn't respond immediately. He could feel something shifting inside him, like tectonic plates beneath the surface of his usually carefree demeanor. When he finally spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

"He was my age, Kakashi-sensei."

Kakashi's single visible eye studied his student. "Who?"

"Haku." Naruto turned to face his teacher, fists clenched at his sides. "Maybe a few years older. But he was so strong. So... complete. He knew exactly who he was and what he could do."

Around them, the bridge builders were already returning to work, the rhythmic clang of tools a jarring counterpoint to the heavy silence between teacher and student. Life moved on with startling speed.

"And what about me?" Naruto continued, gesturing wildly, his voice rising. "What do I have? Shadow clones and... and stubbornness?"

"Those aren't bad things to have," Kakashi replied, his tone measured.

Naruto shook his head vehemently. "It's not enough! I couldn't save anyone! I couldn't even touch Haku until I—" He stopped abruptly, his hand unconsciously moving to his stomach where the seal of the Nine-Tailed Fox lay.

Sasuke approached them, his face still pale from his near-death experience, Sakura hovering anxiously at his side. "We should start back to Konoha," the Uchiha said flatly, though his eyes lingered on Naruto with a hint of something new—not quite respect, but acknowledgment.

Tazuna placed a heavy hand on Naruto's shoulder. "Don't look so glum, boy! You're the hero of the Land of Waves now."

But as they began their journey back to Konoha, Naruto couldn't shake the hollow feeling in his chest. Hero? The word tasted bitter. Heroes saved people. Heroes were strong enough to protect what mattered.

---

The journey back was quieter than their trek to the Land of Waves had been. Naruto, usually bursting with chatter, walked silently, his mind racing faster than his feet. Each step took him further from the bridge but closer to a decision that was crystallizing with each passing mile.

That night, as they camped in a small clearing in the forest, Naruto sat apart from the others, staring into the dancing flames of their campfire. The firelight threw shifting shadows across his whiskered face, highlighting the unusual intensity in his eyes.

"You're thinking too loud," came Sasuke's voice as he dropped down beside Naruto, his movements still slightly stiff from his injuries.

Naruto didn't rise to the bait as he normally would. Instead, he asked, "How did you get so strong, Sasuke?"

The question seemed to surprise the dark-haired boy, who paused before answering. "I train. Every day. Until I can't move anymore."

"That's it?"

"What were you expecting? Some secret technique?" Sasuke scoffed. "There are no shortcuts, idiot."

For once, the insult didn't sting. "No shortcuts," Naruto repeated softly, as if testing the words.

Across the fire, Kakashi watched the exchange over the top of his ever-present book, his visible eye narrowed thoughtfully.

---

Konoha's massive gates appeared on the horizon three days later, the familiar sight bringing a surge of conflicting emotions. Home. Safety. But also stagnation. Complacency. The very things that had nearly gotten him and his teammates killed.

As they passed beneath the towering wooden structure, Naruto's resolve hardened like cooling metal. The bustling streets of Konoha were a shock after the quiet roads of their journey—vendors calling out their wares, children darting between pedestrians, the warm scent of Ichiraku's ramen carried on the breeze.

"Kakashi-sensei," Naruto called out as the team prepared to disperse, their mission report delivered to the Hokage's office. "I need to ask you something."

Kakashi turned, his posture relaxed but attentive. "What is it, Naruto?"

"Train me," Naruto said, the words coming out in a rush. "Like, really train me. Not just team stuff. I need to get stronger—much stronger."

Kakashi's eye crinkled in what might have been a smile beneath his mask. "Motivated after your first real mission, are you?" But his amusement faded as he registered the unusual seriousness in his student's demeanor. "I have responsibilities to the entire team, Naruto. And other duties as a jonin of the village."

"But—"

"However," Kakashi cut him off, "that doesn't mean you can't train on your own. In fact, I'd encourage it."

Naruto's face fell, the familiar sting of rejection burning in his chest. But this time, instead of loud protests, he simply nodded. "Fine. I'll do it myself."

Kakashi raised an eyebrow at the unexpected response. "The library has scrolls on chakra theory and control exercises. Start there," he offered, almost as an afterthought.

Naruto's head snapped up. "The library? They'll never let me in!"

"You're a genin of Konoha now," Kakashi reminded him. "They have to."

---

The Konoha Public Library loomed before him, its weathered stone facade simultaneously imposing and inviting. Naruto hesitated at the bottom of the steps, memories of being chased away by angry librarians flashing through his mind. But he wasn't Academy Student Naruto anymore, the prankster, the dead-last. He was Genin Naruto, a shinobi who had faced down Zabuza and Haku. Who had seen death up close.

He climbed the steps with deliberate strides and pushed open the heavy wooden door.

The cool interior smelled of paper and ink and dust—knowledge accumulated over generations. A few ninja and civilians sat at tables scattered throughout the spacious room, some reading scrolls, others taking notes. The librarian, an older woman with steel-gray hair pinned severely atop her head, glanced up sharply at his entrance.

Recognition flashed in her eyes, followed by the familiar chill of disdain. "Can I help you?" Her voice was as frigid as her gaze.

Naruto straightened his spine. "I need books on chakra control exercises. Advanced ones."

"The children's section is that way." She pointed dismissively to a corner filled with colorful scrolls.

"I'm not a child," Naruto replied, his voice level despite the heat rising in his cheeks. "I'm a genin of Konoha, and I need shinobi texts."

Something in his tone—or perhaps the absence of his usual boisterous demeanor—gave the woman pause. She studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "Shinobi texts are on the second floor. Eastern wing for chakra studies."

The staircase creaked beneath his feet as he ascended, each step feeling like a small victory. The second floor was quieter, the shelves packed more densely with scrolls and tomes bound in leather of various hues. The eastern wing proved to be a maze of tall shelves, with small reading nooks tucked between them.

It took nearly an hour of searching before Naruto found what he was looking for—a dusty section labeled "Chakra Control: Intermediate Techniques." He ran his fingers along the spines, pulling out a scroll titled "Beyond Tree Walking: Advanced Control Exercises for the Developing Shinobi."

His heart raced as he unfurled it. The diagrams were complex, the text dense with terminology he only half-understood. But there, on the third page, was an exercise called "Water Skin"—a technique that involved coating one's entire body with a thin layer of chakra, like a second skin, while submerged in water.

"This is it," he whispered, excitement building in his chest. The scroll claimed the technique would dramatically improve chakra control and capacity when mastered.

By the time he left the library, the sun was setting, painting Konoha in shades of orange and gold. Naruto clutched several scrolls to his chest, his mind already racing with plans.

---

The training ground was empty in the predawn light, dew glistening on the grass like scattered diamonds. Mist rose from the small pond at the field's edge, creating an ethereal backdrop for what Naruto had determined would be day one of his new life.

He stood at the water's edge, scrolls spread open on a nearby rock, their edges weighted down with small stones. The only sounds were the chirping of early birds and his own steady breathing as he formed the familiar cross-shaped hand seal.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

The clearing erupted with puffs of smoke, revealing dozens of identical Narutos, each wearing the same determined expression.

"Alright, listen up!" the original shouted. "We're going to master these chakra control exercises if it kills us! Ten of you, work on the Water Skin technique in the pond. Another ten, climb trees—but this time, I want you to do it with just one finger touching the trunk!"

The clones nodded, their blue eyes blazing with shared purpose.

"The rest of you, we're going to review the Academy forms." This announcement was met with groans, which Naruto silenced with a glare. "Haku was fast because his form was perfect. We're sloppy, and it's killing our speed. So we fix it, now!"

As the sun crested the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant pinks and oranges, dozens of Narutos worked with silent intensity, their determination hanging in the air as palpably as the morning mist. Across the training ground, shadow clones teetered on tree trunks, splashed and cursed in the cold pond, and moved through Academy-taught taijutsu forms with uncharacteristic precision.

And in the center of it all, the original Naruto stood with his eyes closed, feeling the accumulated experience of each dispelled clone flow into him like tributaries into a river. Each failure, each small success, each insight registered not as individual data points but as a deepening understanding of his own body and chakra.

For the first time in his life, Naruto Uzumaki was training with purpose, with method, with the clear-eyed understanding that greatness wasn't bestowed—it was forged, one grueling day at a time.

He thought of Haku's face, peaceful even in death. Of Zabuza's tears falling on the boy's cheeks. Of their incredible skills and the lives that had produced such power.

"I will become stronger," he whispered, the words both a promise and a prayer. "I will protect what matters. I will never be helpless again."

Around him, his clones worked in silent agreement, the shared conviction binding them as surely as the chakra that had created them. The sun climbed higher, bathing the clearing in golden light that seemed to promise that this day—this moment—was indeed the dawning of something new.

# What if Naruto Trains Himself Seriously After Incident in Wave

## Chapter 2: Foundations

Dawn broke over Konoha in a spectacular eruption of crimson and gold, painting the stone faces of the Hokage Monument in ethereal light. The village still slumbered, streets empty save for a few early-rising shopkeepers and the occasional ANBU shadow flitting across rooftops.

But in Training Ground 7, the rhythmic thud of fists against wood shattered the morning silence.

"Again!" Naruto barked at himself, sweat gleaming on his forehead despite the cool morning air. Thirty identical blondes moved in perfect synchrony, executing the basic Academy kata he'd previously dismissed as boring. Now, each stance transition felt like uncovering a hidden truth—a revelation buried beneath years of inattention.

Two weeks had passed since his return from the Land of Waves. Two weeks of waking before sunrise. Two weeks of collapsing into bed with muscles screaming and chakra pathways raw. Two weeks of a silence so profound inside his normally chaotic mind that it almost frightened him.

A clone exploded into smoke after overextending a kick. The backlash of memory hit Naruto like a physical blow—the phantom sensation of hamstring muscles tearing, the frustration of imperfect form.

"Bend your knee more on the pivot," he called out, instinctively correcting the error. "And shift your weight to the ball of your foot, not the heel!"

The remaining clones adjusted instantly, their movements becoming sharper, more fluid. Naruto watched them with narrowed eyes, cataloging each improvement with a newfound obsession for detail that would have made Iruka-sensei faint from shock.

Near the tree line, another cluster of clones struggled with the water manipulation exercise he'd discovered. Coaxing water into a spinning orb above their palms, they fought to maintain the shape while walking up tree trunks—an excruciating combination of the tree-walking technique and the new control exercise.

"Stop leaking chakra from your elbows," Naruto shouted at them. "Focus!"

"We ARE focusing, boss!" one clone snapped back, before losing his concentration. The water sphere collapsed, drenching him moments before he plummeted from the tree and dispelled in a puff of indignant smoke.

Naruto winced as the clone's memories flooded him—the split-second realization of failure, the frustrating sensation of chakra dispersing too quickly through his network. But with the failure came understanding, another piece of the puzzle slotting into place.

He pulled a worn notebook from his pocket—a purchase that would have been unthinkable a month ago—and scribbled a hasty note: Water control + vertical surface = too many focus points? Try water FIRST, then add movement.

The schedule he'd created was pinned to the first page, rows and columns meticulously filled with training objectives: morning physical conditioning, afternoon technique refinement, evening chakra control exercises, and finally, late-night study at his apartment. Every hour accounted for, every minute an opportunity to close the gap between himself and the impossible standard set by his encounters in Wave.

A sudden rustling from the bushes snapped Naruto to attention. His clones paused mid-motion, thirty pairs of blue eyes swiveling toward the sound.

"Troublesome," sighed a familiar drawling voice. "I told you he'd notice us."

Asuma Sarutobi stepped from the trees, cigarette dangling from his lips, followed by the unmistakable trio of Shikamaru Nara, Choji Akimichi, and Ino Yamanaka—Team 10.

Naruto's clones dissolved in near-unison, a tactical decision that sent a sudden tsunami of experiences crashing into his consciousness. He staggered slightly, blinking rapidly as his brain processed the information overload.

"Woah," Choji mumbled through a mouthful of chips, "that's a lot of Narutos."

Asuma's eyes narrowed, assessing. "Four-thirty in the morning is early, even for the most dedicated genin," he remarked, taking a contemplative drag from his cigarette. "You're burning through chakra at an impressive rate."

Naruto squared his shoulders, suddenly conscious of how he must look—drenched in sweat, dirt smudging his face, training scrolls scattered around like fallen leaves. "Just making up for lost time, Asuma-sensei."

"Hmph." Shikamaru slouched forward, hands stuffed in his pockets, dark eyes calculating despite his perpetual expression of boredom. "This doesn't match your usual approach. What changed?"

The question hung in the air, deceptively simple. Naruto felt a prickle of discomfort under the Nara's shrewd gaze, like being dissected.

"I grew up a little," he replied finally, then added with a flash of his old grin, "Don't worry, I'll still kick your butt if we ever have to fight."

Choji snorted, choking slightly on his chips, while Shikamaru's lips twitched into the ghost of a smile.

Ino, however, hadn't spoken. She stood slightly apart from her teammates, aquamarine eyes fixed on Naruto with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably. Unlike her usual vocal dismissals of the "dead-last," she seemed to be actually seeing him for the first time.

Their eyes met for a fleeting moment. Something electric passed between them—recognition, perhaps, or simple surprise at finding depth where she'd expected shallowness. Naruto felt warmth creep up his neck that had nothing to do with his training.

"We should move on," Asuma announced, crushing his cigarette beneath his heel. "This training ground is clearly occupied, and I know another spot that will work for what I had planned."

Team 10 began to withdraw, Choji offering a friendly wave, Shikamaru a noncommittal nod. Ino lingered a moment longer, her gaze drifting over the training scrolls, the notebook in Naruto's hand, the transformation taking place before her eyes.

"Come on, Ino-pig!" Shikamaru called, his lazy drawl carrying a note of impatience.

She turned to follow her team, but not before glancing back one final time. In that moment, Naruto stood straighter, his eyes reflecting the same fire he'd once envied in Sasuke—but with a warmth the Uchiha had never possessed.

As Team 10 disappeared into the forest, Naruto exhaled slowly, the encounter leaving him oddly unsettled. Being observed during training was like being caught in the middle of becoming someone new, someone not yet fully formed.

"Back to work," he muttered, forming the hand sign for his signature jutsu. "Shadow Clone Technique!"

---

The Academy stood silent and empty in the afternoon lull between classes, hallways echoing with the phantom sounds of students long dismissed. Iruka Umino sat at his desk, red pen dancing across a stack of papers, his brow furrowed in concentration.

The soft knock at his classroom door startled him. Visitors were rare during these quiet hours—his sacred time for grading before heading home.

"Come in," he called, setting down his pen.

The door slid open to reveal a flash of orange and blonde that made Iruka's heart warm instantly. "Naruto! This is a surpri—" The words died in his throat as he registered the stack of books clutched in his former student's arms and the uncharacteristically serious expression on his whiskered face.

"Iruka-sensei," Naruto began, awkwardly shifting the weight of the books, "I need help."

The chunin blinked, momentarily speechless. In all the years he'd known Naruto, the boy had never—not once—voluntarily sought academic assistance. Pranking advice, yes. Ramen companionship, certainly. But help with studies?

"Of course," Iruka recovered, gesturing to the desk in front of his own. "What seems to be the problem?"

Naruto dumped the books onto the desk with a heavy thud, sending a cloud of dust motes spiraling into the sunbeams streaming through the windows. "Everything," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm trying to understand chakra theory, but the scrolls keep referencing stuff I don't know because I, um—"

"Skipped class or slept through my lectures?" Iruka supplied with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, that." Naruto's sheepish grin flashed briefly before fading back into seriousness. "I need to understand this now. For real."

Iruka pulled a chair around to sit beside his former student, curiosity piqued by this unexpected development. "What brought this on, Naruto? Not that I'm complaining, but this isn't exactly in character for you."

The boy hesitated, fingers drumming against the cover of a dusty tome titled Principles of Chakra Circulation.

"On our mission to Wave Country, we met this ninja," he finally said, voice soft with an emotion Iruka couldn't quite place. "He was maybe fifteen, but he was so strong, Iruka-sensei. Not just powerful—he knew exactly what he was doing. Every move had... had..."

"Purpose?" Iruka suggested.

"Yeah! Purpose." Naruto's eyes lit up with the satisfaction of finding the right word. "And I realized I don't have that. I'm just throwing myself at problems and hoping I break through because I'm too stubborn to give up."

Iruka felt a complicated tangle of emotions—pride at Naruto's self-reflection, concern at the shadows behind his eyes, and a quiet joy that the boy had chosen him for this moment of vulnerability.

"Sometimes stubbornness is its own kind of strength," he offered gently.

"Maybe," Naruto conceded. "But it's not enough anymore. So I'm starting over, from the beginning. And that means actually learning the stuff I ignored before."

Iruka picked up the top book from the stack—*Introductory Ninjutsu Theory and Practice*—and felt a smile tug at his lips. "Well then, where shall we start?"

For the next two hours, the classroom came alive again with the spirit of learning, though with only a single student. Iruka walked Naruto through concepts he'd taught years ago, explaining chakra pathways, elemental affinity theories, and the mathematical principles behind jutsu scaling.

To his amazement, Naruto soaked up the information like a sponge, his brow furrowed in concentration, stopping occasionally to scribble notes in the same well-worn notebook he'd used at the training ground. When concepts proved difficult, he didn't whine or give up as he once would have. Instead, he asked Iruka to explain again, approaching the problem from different angles until understanding dawned in his bright blue eyes.

As the afternoon sun began its descent, painting the classroom walls in amber hues, Iruka sat back and studied the boy before him—no, not quite a boy anymore. Something was shifting in Naruto, a fundamental realignment that Iruka found both fascinating and slightly unsettling, like watching a butterfly emerge too early from its chrysalis.

"Iruka-sensei?" Naruto's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Could we maybe do this again? There's still so much I don't get."

The chunin felt his throat tighten with emotion. "Of course, Naruto. My door is always open to you. Same time next week?"

Naruto's answering smile—smaller than his usual blinding grin but somehow more genuine—warmed Iruka to his core.

"It's a promise," the genin declared, gathering his books with uncharacteristic care. "And I never go back on my word!"

---

Three weeks later, the rhythmic clink of kunai striking targets punctuated the morning air of Training Ground 3. Team 7's regular training session was in full swing, with Kakashi observing from the shade of a large oak, his visible eye seemingly fixed on his ever-present orange book.

In reality, the jonin hadn't turned a page in over ten minutes, his attention captured by the subtle but undeniable changes in his most unpredictable student.

Naruto moved through the accuracy drills with a precision that hadn't been present before. His throws were economical, each kunai following a clean arc before embedding itself in the target—not perfectly centered like Sasuke's, but consistently striking within the second ring. More telling was his reaction to misses: instead of loud frustration, he would pause, adjust his stance minutely, and try again with narrowed eyes.

"Alright, that's enough weapons practice," Kakashi announced, snapping his book shut and straightening from his lounging position. "Let's move on to sparring. Sasuke, you're with Naruto. Sakura, you'll practice the genjutsu recognition technique I showed you last week."

The pink-haired kunoichi nodded and moved to a quiet corner of the field, while Sasuke and Naruto took positions in the central clearing, facing each other with matching expressions of intensity.

"Begin when ready," Kakashi instructed, stepping back to observe.

Sasuke launched forward immediately, a blur of blue and white, leading with a high kick aimed at Naruto's head. In the past, Naruto would have either taken the hit or dodged clumsily, off-balance and vulnerable to Sasuke's inevitable follow-up.

Today, he slipped under the kick with a dancer's grace, pivoting on the ball of his foot exactly as he'd drilled with his clones. His counter—a swift palm strike toward Sasuke's exposed ribs—missed as the Uchiha twisted mid-air, but it forced Sasuke to land awkwardly, disrupting his usual fluid combination of attacks.

Sasuke's dark eyes widened fractionally—the closest thing to surprise his stoic face would reveal.

What followed was the most evenly matched spar the two had ever had. Sasuke still held the edge in technique and natural talent, but Naruto's improved form and unexpected bursts of tactical insight kept the Uchiha on his toes. For every two hits Sasuke landed, Naruto connected with one—a ratio that would have been unthinkable a month ago.

"Enough," Kakashi called after fifteen minutes, when both boys were breathing hard, sweat plastering their hair to their foreheads.

Sasuke straightened, brushing dirt from his shorts with a scowl that didn't quite hide the spark of interest in his eyes. "You've been practicing," he said, the accusation carrying a hint of respect.

Naruto grinned, wiping blood from a split lip. "Maybe you're just getting slower, bastard."

The familiar insult lacked its usual heat, landing more like a comfortable habit than genuine animosity.

Sakura hurried over, her training temporarily forgotten. "Naruto, that was amazing! You almost had Sasuke-kun a couple of times!" The surprise in her voice was palpable, green eyes wide as she reassessed her typically bumbling teammate.

"Almost isn't good enough," Naruto replied, rolling his shoulder where Sasuke's kick had connected solidly. There was no boasting, no claims that he would definitely win next time—just a quiet acknowledgment of the gap that still existed between them.

Kakashi observed the exchange with growing interest. He'd noticed Naruto's early morning training sessions, of course—had even silently watched a few from the concealment of nearby trees—but seeing the results in a direct comparison against Sasuke was illuminating.

"Naruto," he called, beckoning the blonde over while Sasuke and Sakura moved on to their next exercise.

The genin approached, blue eyes questioning. "Yeah, Kakashi-sensei?"

The jonin studied him for a moment, taking in the subtle changes—shoulders held straighter, stance more balanced, eyes more focused. "That library recommendation seems to have paid off," he remarked casually.

A grin spread across Naruto's face, bright but somehow more controlled than his former exuberance. "You could say that," he agreed. "Though I've had to read some of those scrolls five times to make any sense of them."

"And yet you persisted," Kakashi observed. "Not many would have the patience."

"Shadow clones help," Naruto admitted. "I can cover more ground that way."

Kakashi's visible eye widened slightly. The boy had discovered the memory transfer aspect of the Shadow Clone Technique on his own—a facet usually only realized by jonin-level ninja with the chakra reserves to properly exploit it.

"An ingenious application," he said carefully, reassessing his student's potential. "Though be cautious of information overload. Too many dispelled clones at once can cause mental strain."

Naruto nodded, absorbing the warning without protest. "I figured that out the hard way," he said, rubbing his temple at the memory. "Now I dispel them in small groups, spaced out."

Another surprise—methodical problem-solving from Konoha's most impulsive ninja.

"You've set a high standard today," Kakashi said, allowing warmth to seep into his usually indifferent tone. "I expect to see you maintain it."

Something flickered in Naruto's eyes—hunger, determination, and beneath it all, a desperate need for acknowledgment that made Kakashi's chest tighten uncomfortably.

"I will," Naruto promised, the words carrying the weight of his unbreakable ninja way. "This is just the beginning, Kakashi-sensei."

As Team 7 regrouped for their final exercises of the day, Kakashi found his thoughts drifting to another blonde-haired blue-eyed ninja who had once shown the same quiet intensity, the same relentless drive for improvement. His gaze shifted to the distant Hokage Monument, where the Fourth's stone face watched over the village with eternal vigilance.

You'd be proud, he thought, watching Naruto demonstrate a perfectly executed substitution jutsu that left Sasuke attacking a log. He's finally finding his path.

In the golden afternoon light, as his students moved through their drills with varying degrees of skill and determination, Kakashi allowed himself a moment of optimism. Whatever had sparked this transformation in Naruto—this awakening of potential long dormant—it had set in motion something significant.

The foundations were being laid, stone by patient stone, for something greater than any of them could yet imagine.

# What if Naruto Trains Himself Seriously After Incident in Wave

## Chapter 3: Chūnin Exams Begin

The paper landed on Naruto's desk with the soft finality of an executioner's axe. He stared at the upside-down test sheet, the pristine white surface nearly glowing under the harsh Academy lights, waiting to be flipped and reveal its secrets—and likely his doom.

Around him, the examination room buzzed with restless energy. Eighty-seven genin from various villages, a kaleidoscope of colors and hitai-ate reflecting village allegiances, all crammed into familiar Academy desks that now seemed absurdly small. The pressure in the room was palpable, a living thing that crawled across skin and squeezed lungs.

"Begin!" Ibiki Morino's voice cracked like a whip.

Papers flipped. Pencils scratched. A few gasps sliced through the sudden silence as the difficulty of the questions registered on unprepared minds.

Naruto took a deep breath and turned his paper over.

Question 1: Decode the following cipher and explain its tactical significance in the context of Kirigakure's naval blockade strategy during the Second Shinobi War.

Six weeks ago, this might as well have been written in an alien language. Today, Naruto's eyes narrowed, recognizing the basic substitution pattern from one of the scrolls Iruka had recommended on ninja communications.

His pencil hovered over the paper. Not an instant solution—he couldn't solve this completely—but he understood the general concept. Progress.

Question 2: Calculate the precise trajectory adjustment needed when throwing a kunai from a height of 30 meters at a target moving at 15 km/h perpendicular to your position, accounting for a crosswind of 8 knots.

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. The countless hours of kunai practice suddenly seemed worth it. He scribbled down the formula, working through the variables step by step.

Three seats ahead, Sakura bent over her paper, pink hair curtaining her face as her pencil flew across the page. To his right, Sasuke worked methodically, dark eyes intense with concentration.

Naruto moved through the questions. Some remained completely indecipherable, mocking him with terminology he'd never encountered. But others—questions on chakra theory, basic code breaking, tactical scenarios—were at least partially accessible to him now. Not enough for a perfect score, but enough to feel like he belonged in this room.

A kunai suddenly sliced through the air, thudding into the desk of a genin two rows back. "You there! Out! Take your team with you!" a chūnin observer barked.

Naruto kept his eyes on his paper, continuing to work while monitoring the room peripherally—another habit from his new training regimen. Five teams eliminated for cheating. Six. Seven.

The question about the final tenth question nagged at him. It was weird, this whole setup. The impossible questions, the harsh cheating penalties that somehow didn't disqualify you immediately...

His eyes widened fractionally as realization dawned. It's not about answering the questions. It's about gathering information without getting caught.

He nearly laughed out loud. The first real test had begun before they'd even entered the room.

Still, Naruto continued working on the questions he could manage. Unlike before, when he would have panicked and looked desperately for someone to copy, he now had something to prove to himself. Each partially answered question was a small victory, evidence of his transformation.

When Ibiki finally announced the rules for the tenth question, with its permanent-failure stakes, Naruto didn't even flinch. Whatever momentary doubt might have plagued him weeks ago had been burned away by predawn training sessions and midnight study. He sat straight-backed, blue eyes steady, as genin around him raised their hands and left, dreams crumbling with each departing footstep.

I didn't come this far to back down now, he thought, meeting Ibiki's scarred glare with unwavering determination.

When the true purpose of the test was revealed and they were told they'd passed, there was no victory shout from Naruto. Just a quiet exhalation and the satisfaction of confirmation—his instincts had been right.

As Anko Mitarashi crashed through the window in a shower of glass and bravado, Naruto exchanged glances with Sasuke. Something had shifted between them since their sparring sessions took on new intensity. Not friendship, exactly, but a growing recognition that they pushed each other to improve in ways no one else could.

"Forest of Death, huh?" Naruto muttered as Anko described their next challenge. "Sounds like my kind of party."

Sasuke's lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Try not to get eaten by the first giant bug we see, loser."

"As if," Naruto scoffed, but the insult carried no sting. They both knew he wasn't the same liability he once was.

In the row behind them, a certain platinum blonde kunoichi watched this interaction with undisguised curiosity, blue-green eyes narrowing thoughtfully at the new dynamic between the rivals.

---

The chain-link fence surrounding Training Ground 44 loomed twenty feet high, warning signs plastered along its perimeter like grim decorations. Beyond it, ancient trees stretched toward the sky, their canopies so dense they turned the forest floor into permanent twilight. Inhuman screeches and chittering echoed from within, a symphony of predators and prey.

"Charming place," Sakura murmured, her face pale beneath pink bangs.

Team 7 stood before Gate 12, Heaven scroll tucked securely in Sasuke's weapons pouch, waiting for the signal to enter. The air hummed with adrenaline and anticipation.

"We should establish a plan now," Sasuke said, voice low. "Once we're inside, we stick together. No wandering off." His eyes slid meaningfully to Naruto.

Normally, Naruto would have bristled at the implication. Today, he nodded. "Agreed. And we need a recognition code in case we get separated and someone tries to impersonate one of us."

Both his teammates blinked at him in surprise.

"What?" Naruto's whiskers twitched. "I can have good ideas sometimes."

"A recognition code is standard protocol," Sasuke recovered quickly, though his dark eyes held a flicker of something like approval. "When we were seven, Iruka-sensei said what about the Hokage Monument?"

Naruto grinned. "That it would look better with some color—which I proved a few years later."

A loud buzzer sliced through the air. Gates clanged open around the perimeter, and just like that, they were racing into the darkness beneath the trees.

The forest swallowed them whole. Light fractured into dappled patterns on the forest floor as they leapt from branch to branch, the humid air thick in their lungs. Sounds surrounded them—slithering movements, distant screams, the constant rustle of things unseen.

They traveled for an hour, establishing a perimeter, setting basic traps, hunting for other teams while avoiding the most obvious threats. Naruto created shadow clones to scout ahead, their civilian-level transformation technique disguising them as native wildlife.

"Earth scroll," Naruto reported as a clone dispelled itself, feeding him information. "Team from Amegakure, half a kilometer northeast. Three genin, look about our age."

Sasuke nodded, already calculating. "Any obvious specialties?"

"Water jutsu for two of them. The third had some kind of umbrella weapon." Another clone dispelled. "They're setting up camp for the night. Seem pretty confident."

"Too confident," Sasuke murmured. "It might be a trap."

Sakura clutched her kunai tighter. "What do we do?"

Naruto created another shadow clone and transformed it into a forest rabbit before sending it hopping toward the Ame team's position. "We don't rush in. We observe and gather intel first." The words felt strange in his mouth—once, he would have charged in headfirst without hesitation—but right too, like a new muscle finally being used correctly.

Sasuke cast him a sidelong glance. "You really have changed, haven't you?"

Before Naruto could answer, the air around them shifted, a subtle pressure descending like an invisible storm front. The hair on their arms stood on end, instincts screaming danger before conscious thought could process it.

A blast of wind erupted from nowhere, a jutsu of massive proportions that sent trees creaking and smaller animals fleeing in panic. Naruto barely had time to shout a warning before he was torn from his branch and hurled through the forest, the world spinning around him in a nauseating blur.

He slammed into a tree trunk with bone-rattling force, the impact driving air from his lungs in an explosive gasp. Stars danced in his vision as he slid to the forest floor, his body automatically rolling into a defensive crouch despite the pain lancing through his ribs.

Separated, he realized, scanning the shadows for signs of his teammates. Exactly what we didn't want.

A soft sound—fabric sliding against bark—was his only warning. Naruto dove sideways as three kunai thudded into the spot where he'd been crouching, rolling to his feet with a fluidity born of countless hours of taijutsu practice.

She emerged from the shadows like a nightmare given form—a tall Kusa kunoichi with long black hair and a strange, fixed smile that didn't reach her eyes. Every instinct in Naruto's body screamed wrongness.

"My, my," the kunoichi purred, voice like silk over steel. "One little leaf blown away from the others. Where are your friends, child?"

"Close enough to hear me kick your ass," Naruto shot back, fingers forming his signature cross-seal. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

Twenty clones burst into existence, surrounding the Kusa-nin in a ring of orange and determination. They attacked in perfect coordination, a testament to Naruto's relentless training—feints and strikes coming from multiple angles, covering each other's approaches with a precision that would have been impossible weeks ago.

The Kusa-nin moved like water, flowing between the attacks with inhuman grace. Five clones dispelled in quick succession, barely managing to touch the hem of the enemy's clothing.

But unlike before, when Naruto would have grown frustrated at the lack of immediate success, he now watched carefully through his clones' eyes, analyzing movement patterns, noting the subtle weight shifts that telegraphed the nin's next dodge.

There! A barely perceptible hesitation when attacks came simultaneously from above and the blind spot to the right.

"Formation Hurricane!" Naruto called. The remaining clones regrouped instantly, executing the attack pattern he'd drilled into them during countless training sessions—a pincer movement with aerial support.

For a split second, surprise flickered across the Kusa-nin's face as three clones made contact, grabbing arms and legs while two more dropped from above. It shouldn't have been enough to restrain a ninja of this caliber, but it created an opening for the real Naruto, who charged forward with a ball of spiraling chakra forming in his palm.

"Not quite the Rasengan," he growled, the unstable chakra sphere wobbling between his fingers, "but it'll do the job!"

The Kusa-nin's expression shifted from surprise to genuine interest. With a burst of strength that shattered the clones holding her, she twisted away from Naruto's attack, but not before it grazed her arm, tearing the sleeve and revealing pale skin beneath.

"Fascinating," the nin murmured, studying Naruto with new intensity. "The dead-last attempting the Fourth's legendary technique? Perhaps there's more to you than meets the eye, Naruto-kun."

A chill raced down Naruto's spine. He hadn't introduced himself.

The Kusa-nin's face suddenly split into a grotesque grin, fingers peeling away the skin like a mask to reveal sickly white features beneath. "I am Orochimaru," the revealed Sannin announced, killing intent flooding the clearing like a physical wave. "And you, little jinchūriki, have just become much more interesting to me."

Naruto stumbled back, lungs constricting under the pressure of the Sannin's chakra. This wasn't a genin or even a jōnin—this was a predator so far beyond his league that the mere presence was crushing.

But something in him—the same stubborn core that had driven him through endless training sessions—refused to bow.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!" he roared, chakra surging in greater quantities than ever before. The clearing exploded with orange, fifty clones filling the space between trees, each wearing the same defiant expression.

Orochimaru's serpentine eyes widened marginally. "Such reserves... and better control than your file suggested."

"My file's out of date," Naruto snarled, as his clones attacked in waves, sacrificial pawns buying time while his mind raced for a strategy, any strategy.

The Sannin moved like a nightmare through the clones, dispelling them with casual brutality, but Naruto had created enough to force him to take more than a second to clear them all. And a second was all Naruto needed to execute his real plan.

"SASUKE! SAKURA! SNAKE FREAK, SECTOR FOUR!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs, using the forest's natural acoustics to project his voice. Simultaneously, five clones scattered in different directions, each shouting the same message, creating confusion about his actual location.

Orochimaru's tongue lashed out, impossibly long, wrapping around Naruto's ankle and yanking him forward. "Clever, but futile. Your friends are already—"

A barrage of fireballs interrupted him, cutting through the trees to impact the ground where he'd been standing a heartbeat earlier. Sasuke dropped from the canopy, eyes blazing red with newly awakened Sharingan, Sakura right behind him.

"Regroup formation," Sasuke ordered sharply, taking position beside Naruto without hesitation.

Team 7 stood together, battered but unified against the monster who had infiltrated their exam. For a fleeting moment, Naruto felt a surge of pride—they'd found each other, they were a team, and maybe, just maybe, they had a chance.

The moment shattered as Orochimaru's neck extended like a striking snake, jaws unhinging to reveal fangs dripping with purpose. "Sasuke-kun," the Sannin hissed, "you're the one I came for."

What followed was a nightmare of speed and power beyond their comprehension. Despite their improved teamwork—Naruto's clones providing distractions, Sasuke's fire jutsu creating barriers, Sakura's precise kunai targeting vulnerable points—they were hopelessly outmatched.

When Orochimaru's teeth finally sank into Sasuke's neck, leaving the cursed seal that would haunt him for years to come, it wasn't for lack of effort or skill. It was simply the inevitable outcome of genin facing a Sannin.

But as Sasuke collapsed, screaming in agony, and Orochimaru prepared to finish what he'd come for, Naruto felt something ancient and furious stir within him. Red chakra bubbled from his skin, forming a cloak of malevolence that made even the Sannin pause.

"You're not touching him again," Naruto growled, voice layered with something inhuman. His whisker marks deepened, nails lengthening into claws, eyes bleeding crimson with slitted pupils.

Orochimaru's expression shifted from surprise to calculating interest. "The fox emerges. But can you control it, I wonder?"

In answer, Naruto launched himself forward with unprecedented speed, the Nine-Tails' chakra amplifying his strength to monstrous levels. His fist connected with Orochimaru's jaw, sending the Sannin flying back through three massive trees before he caught himself.

Blood trickled from the corner of Orochimaru's mouth as he straightened, something like excitement gleaming in those serpentine eyes. "Both of you exceed expectations. How delightful."

The next few minutes blurred in Naruto's memory later—a savage exchange of blows, the fox's chakra burning his coils even as it gave him power beyond anything he'd experienced, Orochimaru testing rather than truly fighting. And then, suddenly, five elongated fingers slamming into his stomach, twisting the seal there, and darkness rushing up to claim him.

---

Consciousness returned grudgingly, like wading through tar. Naruto became aware of soft moss beneath him, filtered sunlight warming his face, and the distant sound of flowing water. His body felt leaden, chakra pathways raw and depleted.

"He's waking up," came Sakura's voice, thick with relief.

Naruto forced his eyes open to find his teammates hovering over him. Sasuke sat propped against a tree, face ashen, the black marks of the cursed seal visible at his collar. Sakura looked exhausted, dark circles shadowing her green eyes, but she managed a tremulous smile.

"How long?" Naruto croaked, his throat painfully dry.

"Almost a day," Sakura answered, helping him sit up. "We had to move you both after... after he left. Found this hollow to hide in."

Memories flooded back—Orochimaru, the cursed seal, the Nine-Tails' chakra. "Sasuke, the mark—"

"It hurts," Sasuke admitted, voice tight with the strain of understatement. "But I can move. We need to get a scroll and reach the tower."

Naruto nodded, respect blooming for his rival's stoicism in the face of obvious agony. "We've got at least three days left. Let me create some clones to scout—"

"Not yet," Sakura interrupted firmly. "You need to recover some chakra first. Both of you do."

The tone of her voice left no room for argument. Naruto subsided, realizing with faint surprise that he was following Sakura's medical judgment without protest. Another change from the old Naruto, who would have ignored his body's limits and charged ahead regardless.

They rested through the remainder of the day, taking turns keeping watch while gathering what food and water they could find. By nightfall, Naruto had recovered enough chakra to create a few scouting clones, though the effort left him paler than before.

"Three teams within a half-kilometer radius," he reported as his clones dispelled. "One from Konoha—it's Team 10."

Sasuke frowned. "Yamanaka, Nara, Akimichi? Are they in trouble?"

"No, they've set up a pretty decent camp. Shikamaru's traps are everywhere." Naruto paused, considering. "They might be our best bet. We're in no shape to take on unknown enemies."

Sakura looked between them, green eyes wide with disbelief at the calm strategic discussion unfolding—so different from the argumentative chaos that had once characterized their team meetings.

"Let's approach them in the morning," she suggested. "We all need rest first."

---

Dawn broke in subtle gradations beneath the forest canopy, misty light filtering through leaves still wet with dew. Team 7 moved carefully through the undergrowth, Sasuke gritting his teeth against the pulsing pain of his curse mark, Naruto still operating at half his normal chakra capacity.

They located Team 10's camp exactly where Naruto's clone had reported. Shikamaru Nara sat cross-legged beside a small, smokeless fire, his shadowed eyes scanning the perimeter with lazy alertness. Choji dozed nearby, while Ino stood guard on a low branch, twirling a kunai around her finger with practiced ease.

"It's us," Naruto called softly before they entered the clearing. "Team 7."

Ino's head snapped up, kunai instantly at the ready. "Prove it."

"When we were seven, Iruka-sensei caught me painting graffiti on the Hokage Monument," Naruto replied, using their recognition code. "Said it would look better with some color."

Shikamaru gestured for them to approach, his eyes narrowing as he took in their battered appearance. "Troublesome. You look like you fought a bijū."

"Close enough," Sasuke muttered, sinking down beside the fire with barely concealed relief.

Ino jumped down from her perch, aquamarine eyes widening as she took in Sasuke's condition. "What happened to you? That mark on your neck..."

"Long story," Sakura cut in protectively. "We ran into someone way above genin level."

While Sakura gave Team 10 a condensed version of their encounter, carefully omitting details about the Nine-Tails, Naruto found himself under Ino's unexpected scrutiny. The blonde kunoichi studied him with an intensity that made him fidget.

"You're injured too," she said abruptly, cutting through Sakura's explanation. "Your chakra is fluctuating wildly. I can sense it."

Naruto blinked in surprise. "I didn't know you were a sensor type."

"I'm not, usually," Ino admitted. "But the Yamanaka techniques make us sensitive to chakra disruptions. And yours is... noticeable."

Before he could respond, Shikamaru spoke up. "We have an Earth scroll. What do you have?"

"Heaven," Sasuke answered, tension evident in his voice. The unspoken question hung in the air between the teams.

Choji, now awake and munching on a food pill, looked between his teammates uncertainly. "We need a Heaven scroll."

"And we need Earth," Sakura confirmed, her hand unconsciously moving to her weapons pouch.

Shikamaru sighed dramatically. "This is why exams are such a drag. We could fight—both teams weakened, making us vulnerable to other competitors—or we could work together to get the scrolls we need from someone else."

"Temporary alliance?" Naruto suggested, the strategy coming to him naturally after weeks of thinking in terms of efficient solutions rather than glorious battle.

"Exactly," Shikamaru nodded, looking faintly impressed. "Six genin have better odds than three, especially in your condition."

The teams agreed to travel together for a day, hunting for teams with scrolls they needed. As they packed up the camp, Ino approached Naruto, her expression unreadable.

"I need to scout ahead," she said. "My Mind Transfer Jutsu can check for ambushes if I use a forest animal as a vessel. But someone needs to guard my body while I'm out."

Naruto's eyebrows rose. "And you're asking me?"

"Shikamaru's discussing strategy with Sasuke, Choji's repacking our supplies, and Sakura's doing something with medicinal herbs for Sasuke's... condition." She shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "You're the logical choice."

"Sure," Naruto agreed, oddly pleased by the implicit trust. "I'll watch your back."

They moved to a small clearing thirty meters ahead of the others. Ino knelt, forming the distinctive Yamanaka hand seal, her platinum blonde ponytail swaying with the motion.

"My body will be defenseless," she reminded him. "Don't let anything eat me, whiskers."

Before Naruto could retort at the nickname, Ino's consciousness had already left her body, which slumped forward lifelessly. He caught her instinctively, carefully arranging her in a more comfortable position against a tree trunk.

It was strange seeing the normally vibrant, sharp-tongued kunoichi so still, her features softened in the absence of her animated expressions. Naruto found himself studying her face—the long pale lashes, the small furrow that remained between her brows even in unconsciousness, the slight upward tilt at the corners of her mouth.

Minutes stretched by. Naruto maintained a vigilant perimeter, sending shadow clones to patrol nearby while he stayed close to Ino's body. He'd never been this close to her for this long before, and it was oddly unsettling in a not-entirely-unpleasant way.

When Ino finally returned to her body, the transition was marked by a sharp intake of breath, her eyes flying open, pupils contracting rapidly as they adjusted to the light.

"Ino?" Naruto asked, concerned by her wide-eyed expression. "What did you see?"

She stared at him for a long moment, something unidentifiable flickering in her gaze. "I... I took over a hawk. Saw a team from Kusa about a kilometer east. They have both scrolls we need."

"Great," Naruto grinned. "Let's tell the others and—"

"That's not all," Ino interrupted, her voice strangely hesitant. "On my way back, I... got disoriented. Ended up in the wrong vessel."

Naruto frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I accidentally entered your shadow clone's mind," she admitted in a rush. "Just for a second, before I realized and jumped back to my body, but..."

Ice flooded Naruto's veins. "What did you see?" The question emerged as barely more than a whisper.

Ino's eyes met his, no longer contemptuous or dismissive as they'd been for most of their acquaintance, but filled with something new—understanding, perhaps, or even respect.

"I saw what drives you," she said quietly. "Not just the dreams everyone knows about. The deeper reasons. The darkness you're fighting against. The determination to prove yourself not just to others, but to yourself."

Naruto couldn't breathe. No one had ever seen inside him like that—not even Iruka or the Third Hokage, who knew his background but not the raw, unfiltered emotions that churned beneath his smiling exterior.

"I'm sorry," Ino continued, genuine remorse coloring her voice. "I didn't mean to invade your privacy. But Naruto... I had no idea."

"No one does," he managed, looking away. "That's kind of the point."

A gentle hand touched his arm, startling him. "Your mind is different from others I've been in," Ino said, her professional curiosity seemingly overcoming her embarrassment. "More ordered than I would have expected. Focused. Like someone who knows exactly what they're working toward."

Despite his discomfort at having been mentally exposed, Naruto felt an unexpected warm glow at this assessment. "I've been training my mind too, not just my body. Trying to be more disciplined."

"It's working," Ino confirmed, then added with a hint of her usual sharpness, "Though there's still plenty of room for improvement."

Naruto snorted, tension breaking. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Yamanaka."

As they rejoined the others to report Ino's findings, Naruto caught her glancing at him several times, her expression thoughtful rather than dismissive. Something had shifted between them—not friendship, not yet, but a seed of mutual recognition that hadn't existed before.

The two teams moved through the forest with renewed purpose, a temporary alliance formed of necessity but functioning with surprising smoothness. As they traveled, Naruto found himself unconsciously tracking Ino's position, his awareness of her heightened by their strange shared moment.

She saw inside me, he thought, the realization both terrifying and oddly liberating. And she didn't look away.

Above them, the massive trees of the Forest of Death creaked in the breeze, indifferent to the small human dramas unfolding beneath their ancient boughs. But in the shadows of those trees, connections were forming and perceptions shifting—tiny changes that would, in time, alter destinies in ways none of them could yet imagine.

# What if Naruto Trains Himself Seriously After Incident in Wave

## Chapter 4: Preliminary Battles

The Tower at the center of the Forest of Death stood like a monolith against the gathering dusk, its stone walls tinged orange by the setting sun. Inside, twenty-one genin—the survivors of five merciless days—stood in ragged formation on the combat floor, their bodies battered but spirits unbroken.

Blood-stained bandages, dirt-encrusted uniforms, and hollow-eyed exhaustion couldn't mask the electric anticipation humming through the room. They had made it this far. What came next would separate the truly exceptional from the merely surviving.

Naruto rolled his shoulders, wincing at the pull of half-healed wounds from his encounter with Orochimaru. His gaze swept across the assembled teams—Konoha rookies, Team Guy, Sand siblings, Sound ninja. Every face etched with the same determination that burned in his own chest.

"Too many applicants remain," the Third Hokage announced, his weathered voice carrying through the cavernous space. "We will hold preliminary matches. Now. One-on-one combat until a clear victor emerges."

Murmurs rippled through the ranks. Several genin swayed on their feet, chakra depletion and injuries taking their toll after five brutal days in the forest.

Hayate Gekkō stepped forward, a chronic cough punctuating his explanation of the rules. Above them, an electronic board flickered to life, names scrolling at dizzying speed before freezing on the first match.

SASUKE UCHIHA VS. YOROI AKADŌ

Naruto clapped a hand on Sasuke's shoulder. "Don't die," he said simply, blue eyes flicking meaningfully to the curse mark partially hidden by Sasuke's high collar.

The Uchiha's lips twitched in what might have been a smile. "Wouldn't dream of it."

As the rest of the genin filed up to the observation balconies, Naruto found himself wedged between Sakura and, unexpectedly, Ino. The proximity to the blonde kunoichi sent a jolt of awareness through him that he couldn't quite explain.

Since their encounter in the forest—since she had briefly glimpsed inside his mind—Ino had watched him with a thoughtfulness that made his skin prickle with self-consciousness.

"He's hurting more than he's letting on," Ino murmured, nodding toward Sasuke as he faced off against the much larger Yoroi. "That mark is interfering with his chakra flow."

Naruto shot her a questioning look. "You can sense that from here?"

"Barely," she admitted. "But the Yamanaka techniques make us sensitive to certain chakra disruptions." Her aquamarine eyes slid to Naruto, then quickly away. "Some people's chakra is easier to read than others."

Below, Sasuke struggled visibly against his opponent's chakra-draining technique, his movements lacking their usual fluid precision. Naruto gripped the railing until his knuckles whitened, willing his teammate to find a solution.

When Sasuke finally executed a modified version of Lee's taijutsu technique to secure victory, Naruto released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The Uchiha staggered back to the balcony, immediately cornered by Kakashi for a private word about the curse mark.

"He's forcing himself beyond his limits," Ino observed, too low for anyone but Naruto to hear.

"That's Sasuke," Naruto replied with a mixture of exasperation and respect. "Too stubborn to know when to quit."

"Sounds like someone else I know," she retorted, but the barb lacked its usual sting.

The electronic board whirred again, names flashing before landing on:

ZAKU ABUMI VS. SHINO ABURAME

Naruto watched the matches with unprecedented focus, analyzing each competitor's style and strategy with the same intensity he'd applied to his recent training. Where once he would have simply cheered for the most spectacular techniques, he now noted subtle weight shifts telegraphing attacks, stamina management, the psychological warfare underpinning each encounter.

"You're not usually this quiet during fights," Sakura remarked during Kankurō's match against a Konoha genin.

"Just paying attention," Naruto replied absently, eyes tracking the nearly invisible chakra threads controlling the Sand ninja's puppet.

Ino, he noticed, was similarly absorbed. Her keen gaze dissected each technique, each strategy, filing away information with the precision of a born intelligence gatherer. Occasionally their eyes would meet after a particularly clever move, mutual recognition flashing between them without need for words.

The electronic board flickered again after Temari's brutal dismantling of Tenten.

NARUTO UZUMAKI VS. KIBA INUZUKA

"Finally!" Naruto's face split in a grin that carried echoes of his old exuberance but tempered now with focused intent. "Wish me luck."

"Kick his ass," Sakura said with surprising ferocity.

Ino said nothing, but her gaze followed him as he bounded down the stairs to the arena floor.

Kiba stood waiting, Akamaru perched atop his head, both practically vibrating with predatory anticipation. "No hard feelings when I wipe the floor with you, dead-last," the Inuzuka called, fangs flashing in a cocky grin.

Naruto rolled his neck, settling into the balanced stance he'd drilled thousands of times with his shadow clones. "Big talk from someone who smells like wet dog."

Hayate's hand sliced downward. "Begin!"

Kiba launched himself forward with explosive speed, clawed hands aiming for Naruto's throat. "On all fours technique!"

In the old days, Naruto would have met the charge head-on, relying on his stamina to absorb punishment while looking for an opening. Today, he sidestepped with liquid grace, redirecting Kiba's momentum with a precisely timed palm strike to the shoulder.

Kiba skidded, eyes widening in genuine surprise. "When did you get so fast?"

Instead of answering, Naruto formed his signature cross-seal. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!" Five perfect clones materialized, each sporting the same confident smirk.

"That old trick?" Kiba scoffed, dropping a food pill to Akamaru. The small dog's fur blazed crimson as he growled, chakra visibly intensifying around his small form. "Let's show him how it's done, Akamaru! Man-Beast Clone!"

In a puff of smoke, Akamaru transformed into a perfect copy of Kiba, doubled fangs gleaming beneath the harsh arena lights.

"Fang Over Fang!" Twin tornadoes of claws and fangs hurtled toward Naruto and his clones, the devastating technique tearing chunks from the concrete floor as it passed.

Up in the balcony, Sakura gasped as three of Naruto's clones vanished in explosive puffs of smoke. But Ino leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Wait for it..." she murmured.

The remaining clones and Naruto scattered, seemingly random in their movements. But as Kiba and Akamaru spun past, the real Naruto's hands flew through a sequence of seals he'd been practicing in secret.

"Water Style: Condensation!" It was far from a perfect technique—barely more than an academy-level jutsu modified through countless hours of experimentation—but it pulled ambient moisture from the air, slickening the floor in Kiba's path.

The Inuzuka's rotation faltered as his footing slipped, breaking the jutsu prematurely and sending him skidding into a wall. Akamaru tumbled in the opposite direction.

"Since when do you know Water Style?!" Kiba sputtered, regaining his feet with a wince.

Naruto grinned, though the technique had cost him more chakra than he'd anticipated. "I picked up a few things."

In the stands, Kakashi's visible eye widened marginally. "Interesting," he murmured. "He's been working on elemental manipulation without guidance."

"Self-teaching?" Asuma asked, impressed despite himself. "That's ambitious for a genin."

"That wasn't just ambition," Kurenai observed, crimson eyes assessing the battlefield with professional interest. "That was strategy. He separated Kiba from Akamaru—neutralizing their combination attacks."

Below, the battle intensified. Kiba abandoned finesse for raw aggression, pressing Naruto with taijutsu sequences that grew increasingly desperate as the blonde evaded or countered each strike.

"Stand still!" Kiba growled after a particularly acrobatic dodge sent Naruto flipping over his head.

"Why would I do that?" Naruto laughed, the sound surprisingly genuine. He was enjoying himself, testing his improved skills against a worthy opponent without the life-or-death stakes of their forest encounters.

But Kiba's next move caught him off-guard. Feinting left, the Inuzuka unexpectedly dropped a smoke bomb, engulfing the arena floor in thick, acrid clouds. "Let's see you dodge what you can't see!"

In the concealing smoke, Kiba's enhanced senses gave him the advantage. Claws raked across Naruto's back, drawing blood before he could turn. Another strike caught his shoulder, another his thigh. The attacks came from all directions, impossible to track or counter.

Up in the balcony, Ino's fingers dug into the metal railing. "He needs to clear the smoke," she murmured, unconsciously leaning forward.

Shikamaru cast her a sidelong glance, one eyebrow raised at her intensity. "Since when do you care about Naruto's matches?"

"I don't," she snapped automatically, but her eyes never left the smoky battlefield.

Within the choking haze, Naruto centered himself, applying the chakra control exercises he'd drilled into muscle memory. Rather than panicking or attacking blindly, he extended his awareness, feeling for disruptions in the air around him.

There! A subtle shift to his right—Kiba moving in for another strike.

Instead of dodging, Naruto planted his feet and channeled chakra to his core, then released it in a sudden, expanding wave. "Chakra Pulse!"

The crude technique—little more than an unrefined burst of raw chakra—nonetheless cleared the smoke in a ten-foot radius, momentarily disorienting Kiba mid-lunge.

Naruto seized the opening, driving his palm into Kiba's sternum with surgical precision, targeting the diaphragm. The Inuzuka doubled over, breath evacuating his lungs in an explosive gasp.

"Yield," Naruto suggested, pulling a kunai from his holster and pressing it gently against Kiba's throat. "You fought well, but this is over."

For a moment, defiance flashed in Kiba's feral eyes. Then, with a reluctant nod, he tapped the floor twice in submission.

"Winner: Naruto Uzumaki!" Hayate announced.

The arena erupted in scattered applause, shot through with murmurs of surprise. Up in the balcony, Hinata clapped with quiet enthusiasm while Shino adjusted his glasses thoughtfully.

"He won without relying on his stamina or that mysterious red chakra," Kurenai noted. "That's... unexpected."

"The Uzumaki boy has changed," the Third Hokage remarked to Anko, who stood beside him. "Watching his growth should prove interesting."

Naruto helped Kiba to his feet, offering a fist bump that the Inuzuka returned with grudging respect. As he climbed the stairs back to the observation deck, he caught Ino watching him, her expression unreadable.

"What?" he asked, suddenly self-conscious under her scrutiny.

"That chakra pulse," she said. "It's similar to a technique the Yamanaka use for breaking genjutsu. How did you come up with it?"

Naruto shrugged, oddly pleased by her interest. "Been experimenting with different ways to expel chakra. Figured it might come in handy."

Something shifted in her gaze—respect, perhaps, or reassessment. Whatever it was, it made his face warm in a way that had nothing to do with physical exertion.

The electronic board whirred again, cutting through the moment.

INO YAMANAKA VS. SAKURA HARUNO

"Well," Ino said, straightening her purple outfit with practiced precision. "Looks like it's my turn to put on a show."

Naruto found himself oddly invested as the two kunoichi faced off on the arena floor. Their rivalry was legend among the rookie nine—once friends turned bitter competitors over Sasuke's affections.

But as the match began, he realized there was more to it than petty jealousy. These were two skilled ninja with everything to prove, to themselves as much as each other.

Sakura struck first, charging with surprising speed, her chakra control evident in the precision of her attacks. Ino countered with the fluid grace of Yamanaka taijutsu, each movement economical and purposeful.

Unlike their canon stalemate, this battle quickly revealed a critical difference. Where Sakura fought with technical perfection, Ino employed tactical awareness that spoke of deeper battlefield intelligence.

"She's conserving chakra," Shikamaru observed lazily. "Waiting for the right moment to use her clan technique."

Naruto nodded, seeing the strategy unfold. "But she needs Sakura immobilized first."

As if hearing them, Ino executed a feint that would have made any jonin instructor proud. Leading Sakura into a predictable attack pattern, she suddenly reversed, flowing around a punch to catch the pink-haired kunoichi in a wrist lock.

"Mind Transfer Jutsu!" Ino's body went slack as her consciousness hurled across the space between them.

For a heart-stopping moment, both girls stood frozen. Then, slowly, "Sakura" raised her hand.

"I, Sakura Haruno, wish to forfe—"

With a violent jerk, Sakura's body convulsed, breaking the jutsu. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" she roared, inner strength forcing Ino's consciousness back to its proper vessel.

Ino staggered as she resumed control of her body, visibly drained by the failed technique. "Impossible," she gasped. "No one breaks my Mind Transfer like that!"

Rather than pressing her advantage immediately, Sakura hesitated, genuine confusion crossing her features. "How did I do that?"

The moment of uncertainty cost her dearly. Ino, despite her chakra depletion, saw the opening and struck with academy-perfect form, driving her knee into Sakura's midsection. As Sakura doubled over, Ino delivered a precise chop to the back of the neck—not hard enough to cause damage, but sufficient to daze her opponent.

This time, when the Mind Transfer hit, Sakura had no defenses left.

"I, Sakura Haruno," Ino-in-Sakura's body announced clearly, "forfeit this match."

"Winner: Ino Yamanaka!" Hayate declared after confirming Sakura's submission was legitimate.

The jutsu released, both girls collapsing to their knees from exhaustion. Ino recovered first, extending a hand to her former friend. For a long moment, Sakura stared at the offered hand, conflict evident in her expression. Then, with visible effort, she accepted it.

"I'll win next time," Sakura promised as Ino helped her to her feet.

"You'll try," Ino countered, but the words held less bite than they might have once.

As they made their way back to the balcony, Naruto watched Sasuke's reaction. The Uchiha barely acknowledged Sakura's return, his attention already fixed on the next match being announced.

"Good fight," Naruto told Sakura sincerely. "That thing you did, breaking her jutsu? That was incredible."

Sakura managed a weak smile, clearly disappointed in her loss but touched by the genuine praise. "Thanks, Naruto."

Ino, he noticed, lingered just within earshot, her expression contemplative as she observed the interaction. When her eyes met his, something unspoken passed between them—recognition, perhaps, of the way simple kindness could matter as much as victory.

The remaining preliminary matches blurred together—Rock Lee's devastating defeat by Gaara, Hinata's brave stand against Neji, Shikamaru's brilliant strategy against the Sound kunoichi. Through it all, Naruto found himself increasingly aware of Ino's presence nearby, her analytical commentary on each match revealing a tactical mind he'd never appreciated before.

When the preliminaries concluded, the victors gathered once more on the arena floor to draw numbers for the final tournament matches. Naruto's fingers closed around a small paper ball, unfolding it to reveal his fate.

"Number One," he announced.

"Number Nine," Neji Hyūga declared, cold eyes sweeping the assembled genin with dismissive arrogance.

"The match order is set," the Third Hokage announced. "You have one month to prepare. Use it wisely."

As they filed out of the tower, stepping into the warm afternoon sunlight, Kakashi approached his team. "Sasuke, you're coming with me for special training," the jōnin said without preamble. "That mark needs containment."

"What about us?" Sakura asked, disappointment evident despite her elimination.

"Sakura, I've arranged for you to receive medical training at the hospital. Your chakra control makes you an ideal candidate." Kakashi's visible eye crinkled in what might have been a smile beneath his mask. "And Naruto, I believe you'll find a suitable mentor waiting for you at the hot springs tomorrow morning."

"The hot springs?" Naruto echoed, confusion evident in his voice.

"Just be there at dawn," Kakashi said cryptically. "And bring your patience."

As Team 7 dispersed—Sasuke and Kakashi vanishing in a swirl of leaves, Sakura heading toward the hospital—Naruto found himself momentarily at loose ends. The prospect of a month's dedicated training sent anticipation thrumming through his veins.

"So," came a familiar voice from behind him. "Made it to the finals, huh?"

Naruto turned to find Ino standing there, arms crossed, weight cocked to one hip in her characteristic stance. But something in her expression had changed—the dismissive edge replaced by genuine curiosity.

"Looks that way," he replied, unsure why his heart rate had suddenly accelerated. "You did great in your match."

"I lost in the preliminaries," she reminded him flatly.

"Still better than most," he countered. "That feint you used? I'm stealing that for my next spar with Sasuke."

A smile tugged at her lips despite her obvious attempt to maintain indifference. "As if you could pull it off with your sloppy footwork."

"Hey! My footwork has improved!"

"Marginally," she conceded, then hesitated, seeming to wrestle with something. Finally: "What are your plans for the month?"

The unexpected question caught him off-guard. "Training, I guess. Kakashi-sensei said something about a mentor at the hot springs."

Ino nodded, tucking a strand of platinum blonde hair behind her ear in a gesture that struck Naruto as uncharacteristically uncertain. "Well... good luck. Not that you'll beat Neji—he's a prodigy—but try not to embarrass yourself completely."

The words were pure Ino, but the delivery lacked conviction, as if she were playing a role she'd outgrown.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Naruto laughed, finding her transparent attempt at maintaining their old dynamic more amusing than offensive. "I'll try to remember that when I'm kicking his prodigy ass."

She rolled her eyes, but a genuine smile escaped before she turned to leave. "See you around, Uzumaki."

Naruto watched her go, struck by the strange sense that something fundamental had shifted between them—subtle as a change in air pressure before a storm, but undeniable.

---

The Konoha hot springs steamed in the predawn light, wisps of vapor curling into the cool morning air like ghostly fingers. Naruto approached cautiously, unsure what to expect from Kakashi's mysterious instructions.

A peculiar sound drew him around the bamboo fence—muffled giggling punctuated by the scratch of pencil on paper. There, crouched behind a bush with one eye pressed to a small hole in the women's bath fence, sat a large man with wild white hair cascading down his back.

"You've got to be kidding me," Naruto muttered, instantly recognizing the figure from bingo book photos. "My special mentor is a pervert?"

"Research!" the man hissed without turning around. "I'm conducting vital research for my next literary masterpiece!"

"You're peeping on women at the hot springs," Naruto countered flatly. "Pretty sure that's illegal, even for a Sannin."

That got the man's attention. He whirled around, nearly six and a half feet of legendary ninja regarding Naruto with sudden interest. "Well, well," Jiraiya said, tucking his notebook away with practiced ease. "Kakashi's student, I presume? The kyūbi jinchūriki himself."

Naruto stiffened at the casual reference to his burden, but nodded. "Naruto Uzumaki. And you're Jiraiya of the Sannin."

"My reputation precedes me!" Jiraiya struck a theatrical pose, kabuki-white hair bristling. "The great Toad Sage of Mount Myōboku, author of the acclaimed Icha Icha series, ladies' man extraordinaire—"

"And the Fourth Hokage's teacher," Naruto interrupted, blue eyes sharp with interest. "That's the part I care about."

Jiraiya's bombastic persona faltered slightly, keen assessment replacing performative vanity. "Huh. Not what I expected based on your file."

"My file's out of date," Naruto replied simply. "I need to get stronger. Fast. Kakashi-sensei said you could help."

The Sannin circled him slowly, taking in the stance, the focused eyes, the absence of the hyperactive child described in academy reports. "Why the rush, kid?"

Naruto considered his answer carefully, weighing truth against prudence. "I'm facing Neji Hyūga in the finals. He's a prodigy with a kekkei genkai and a chip on his shoulder the size of the Hokage Monument."

"Fair enough," Jiraiya nodded. "But that's not the whole story, is it?"

Something in the Sannin's penetrating gaze made evasion seem pointless. "We encountered Orochimaru in the Forest of Death," Naruto admitted. "He did something to Sasuke, something bad. And to me..." His hand drifted unconsciously to his stomach where the Five Elements Seal had disrupted his chakra flow.

"Show me," Jiraiya commanded, all pretense of the carefree pervert evaporating.

Naruto lifted his shirt, channeling chakra to reveal both the original seal and Orochimaru's corrupt addition. Jiraiya's expression darkened as he examined the complex array of symbols.

"That snake-faced bastard," he muttered, fingers moving in practiced sequences as he assessed the damage. "Alright, hold still. This is going to hurt."

Five burning points of agony as Jiraiya's fingers drove into his abdomen, a blinding flash of chakra, and suddenly Naruto could breathe properly again. Chakra rushed through his system like a dam breaking, raw power flooding pathways that had been constricted for days.

"Better?" Jiraiya asked, steadying him as he swayed.

"Much," Naruto gasped, the world around him snapping into sharper focus. "What did you do?"

"Removed his Five Elements Seal. It was disrupting your chakra flow and blocking access to the kyūbi's chakra." Jiraiya stepped back, regarding him with new interest. "Now, what exactly do you want to learn? Water walking? Summoning? Advanced chakra control?"

This was the moment Naruto had been waiting for—a legendary ninja actually offering to teach him, no qualifications, no dismissals. The old Naruto would have demanded the flashiest, most powerful jutsu available, regardless of practicality.

Instead, he took a breath and asked, "The Fourth Hokage's techniques—they were based on advanced chakra theory, weren't they? Could you explain the principles behind them?"

Jiraiya's eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. "That's... not the request I expected."

"I've been studying chakra theory," Naruto explained, determination hardening his voice. "But there are gaps in what I understand. If I'm going to create my own techniques someday—techniques that play to my strengths—I need to understand the fundamentals better."

A slow smile spread across the Toad Sage's face, genuine respect replacing his initial skepticism. "Well, well, well. Perhaps there's more of your father in you than I realized."

The casual comment struck Naruto like physical blow. "My... father?"

Jiraiya's expression froze, realization of his slip evident in the sudden tension of his shoulders. After a moment of internal debate plainly visible on his expressive face, he sighed heavily.

"That's a conversation for another time, kid. One the old man Hokage should probably be present for." He clapped his hands together, forcibly changing the subject. "For now, let's talk about the Rasengan—one of the Fourth's signature techniques. Not the jutsu itself, not yet, but the principles behind it."

Though burning with questions about his parentage, Naruto recognized the deflection for what it was—a promise of future revelations, not an outright refusal. He filed the information away, focusing instead on the rare opportunity before him.

"The Rasengan," he repeated, the name itself sending a thrill of excitement through him. "What makes it special?"

"Shape and power manipulation in perfect balance," Jiraiya explained, chakra swirling to life above his palm—a perfect sphere of concentrated energy that hummed with deadly potential. "Most jutsu rely on hand seals to structure chakra. The Rasengan requires no seals, only precise control and visualization."

For the next three hours, Jiraiya broke down the theory behind the Fourth's creation in meticulous detail. Rather than being bored by the academic approach, Naruto absorbed the information with unprecedented focus, asking intelligent questions that visibly impressed the Sannin.

"You really have been studying," Jiraiya remarked as they took a break near a small stream. "What prompted this change? Your file painted quite a different picture."

Naruto's expression grew distant, memories of the Land of Waves mission surfacing like shadows in deep water. "I met someone," he said quietly. "A boy named Haku. He was powerful, focused, completely in control of his abilities. And he was only a few years older than me."

"Ah," Jiraiya nodded, understanding dawning. "You found a measuring stick."

"More like a wake-up call," Naruto corrected. "I realized I'd been kidding myself. Shouting about becoming Hokage while putting in minimal effort. After Wave... I couldn't keep lying to myself."

The Toad Sage studied him with new eyes, seeing past the orange jumpsuit and whisker marks to the potential burning beneath. "Well then," he said, producing a water balloon from his pack, "let's see if you're ready to begin the first stage of the Rasengan."

---

Twilight painted Konoha in watercolor shades of purple and deep blue by the time Naruto staggered home from training, arms limp at his sides, fingers pruned from hours of water manipulation exercises. The first stage of the Rasengan—rotation—had proven far more challenging than he'd anticipated, even with his improved chakra control.

But the frustration only fueled his determination. Jiraiya, beneath his eccentric exterior, was a teacher of extraordinary insight, adapting his instruction to Naruto's learning style with surprising sensitivity.

"Tomorrow, same time," the Sannin had declared before departing in a cloud of smoke, leaving Naruto with strict instructions to practice through the night.

Too exhausted even for Ichiraku ramen, Naruto decided to take a shortcut through the commercial district, hoping to reach his apartment before his legs gave out completely.

The Yamanaka Flower Shop's lights still glowed despite the late hour, a beacon of warmth against the gathering darkness. Through the large front window, he caught a glimpse of platinum blonde hair as Ino moved between displays, rearranging flowers with the same precision she applied to shuriken jutsu.

Without conscious decision, his feet carried him to the shop entrance. The bell above the door jingled cheerfully as he stepped inside, surrounding him with a tsunami of fragrance—roses, lilies, chrysanthemums, and dozens of scents he couldn't identify.

Ino looked up, surprise registering on her features before she schooled them into practiced customer-service neutrality. "We're about to close, but if you need something quick—" Recognition dawned. "Naruto? What are you doing here?"

He hadn't planned this visit and found himself suddenly at a loss for words. "I, uh, was just passing by. Saw the lights on."

"You look like you've been dragged behind a cart all day," she observed, taking in his bedraggled appearance. "Training for the finals?"

Naruto nodded, oddly self-conscious under her scrutiny. "Special instructor. He's working me half to death."

Interest sparked in her eyes. "Special instructor? Who?"

"Jiraiya of the Sannin," he admitted, unable to keep a note of pride from his voice.

Ino's jaw actually dropped. "One of the legendary Sannin is training you? Why?"

The question wasn't asked with her usual dismissiveness, but genuine curiosity. Naruto shrugged, unsure how much to reveal about his status as a jinchūriki.

"Something to do with my chakra type, I think," he hedged. "Plus, Kakashi-sensei arranged it."

Ino studied him for a moment longer, then gestured to a small workbench in the corner. "Sit before you fall over. I need to finish this arrangement, then I can lock up."

Too tired to argue, Naruto sank onto the indicated stool, watching as Ino returned to a half-completed bouquet on the main counter. Her hands moved with practiced precision, selecting stems and positioning them with the same focus she brought to combat.

"I didn't know you worked here," he admitted, realizing how little he knew about her life outside of ninja duties.

"It's the family business," she replied without looking up. "All Yamanaka children learn floristry alongside clan techniques. Flowers and minds—both require understanding of growth patterns, environmental influence, structural integrity."

Naruto found himself fascinated by the parallel she drew. "I never thought of it that way."

"Most don't," she said, a hint of pride coloring her voice. "A lot of ninja think our flower shop is just a cover for intelligence work. It's not—it's the foundation of our philosophy."

As she spoke, her hands never stopped moving, adding sprigs of green, adjusting the angle of a purple blossom, creating harmony from individual elements. In the warm shop lighting, her face showed a concentration and passion Naruto had only ever seen her direct toward Sasuke before.

"It's beautiful," he said when she finally stepped back from the completed arrangement.

Ino glanced at him, surprise flickering across her features before softening into something less guarded. "It's for a funeral tomorrow," she explained. "The family requested hope rather than sorrow, so I used iris for faith, daffodil for rebirth, and rosemary for remembrance."

"Flowers have meanings?" Naruto asked, genuinely intrigued.

"Every single one," she confirmed. "It's called the language of flowers. Different cultures have different interpretations, but the Yamanaka tradition goes back centuries."

Without warning, she plucked a simple orange bloom from a nearby bucket and held it out to him. "Calendula," she said. "Represents persistence through difficulty."

Naruto accepted the flower with unexpected care, something warm blooming in his chest that had nothing to do with chakra or training. "Thanks," he said, meaning it.

Ino busied herself with cleaning up, a faint blush coloring her cheeks that she would have vehemently denied if questioned. "So what's the great Jiraiya teaching you? Some legendary technique?"

"Theory, mostly," Naruto admitted, twirling the calendula between his fingers. "Fundamentals behind advanced techniques. But we started on the Rasengan today."

Her head snapped up. "The Fourth Hokage's jutsu? That spinning chakra ball that can grind through anything?"

"You know about it?" he asked, surprised.

"I read," she said simply. "The Yamanaka library has texts on famous techniques. The Rasengan is considered one of the most challenging A-rank ninjutsu ever created because it requires no hand seals—only perfect chakra control."

Naruto's estimation of her intelligence ticked upward yet again. "Exactly. I'm stuck on the first stage—rotation. My chakra keeps spiraling out of control."

To his shock, Ino set down her cleaning cloth and approached, holding out her hand. "Show me."

"Here? In the flower shop?"

"Just the chakra molding part," she clarified. "No actual jutsu formation."

Hesitantly, Naruto extended his palm upward, focusing chakra as Jiraiya had taught him. Blue energy swirled above his hand, initially forming a tight spiral before wobbling and dispersing like smoke in wind.

Ino studied the failed attempt with narrowed eyes. "Your chakra control has improved, but you're still pushing too hard. Try visualizing a whirlpool—water circling a central point, drawn inward rather than forced."

The suggestion was unexpected but insightful. Naruto tried again, this time picturing exactly what she'd described. The chakra responded differently—still unstable, but maintaining its spiral pattern a few seconds longer before dissolving.

"Better," Ino nodded, professional satisfaction in her voice. "Yamanaka techniques require precise chakra visualization. We learn mental imagery exercises from childhood."

"Any other tips?" Naruto asked, genuinely eager for her perspective.

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. "Control your breathing. Match it to the rotation. And relax your shoulder muscles—tension blocks smooth chakra flow."

He tried once more, incorporating all three suggestions. The improvement was immediate and dramatic—his chakra spiral holding steady for nearly ten seconds before dissipating.

"That's—thank you," he said, genuine gratitude coloring his voice. "That actually helped a lot."

Ino looked as surprised as he felt, as if she hadn't expected her advice to make a difference. "Well," she said, resuming her cleanup with slightly less composure, "the Yamanaka do know a thing or two about chakra control."

They lapsed into companionable silence as she finished closing the shop, Naruto absently twirling the calendula between his fingers, its meaning echoing in his mind. Persistence through difficulty.

"I should get going," he said eventually, rising from the stool with a wince as fatigued muscles protested. "Early training tomorrow."

Ino nodded, flipping the shop sign to "Closed" and retrieving her keys. "Good luck with the Rasengan. Try not to blow yourself up before the finals—I have money riding on your match with Neji."

"You bet on me?" Naruto asked, unable to hide his surprise.

"I bet on Neji," she corrected with a smirk, though something in her eyes belied the words. "But I won't be too disappointed if I lose."

As they stepped outside into the cool evening air, an awkward moment stretched between them—neither quite ready to part ways, neither quite sure how to say goodbye in this new, undefined territory they'd wandered into.

"Thanks again," Naruto said finally, holding up the calendula. "For the flower. And the advice."

"Don't mention it," Ino replied, then added with a flash of her old sharpness, "Seriously, don't. I have a reputation to maintain."

He laughed, the sound genuine and unforced. "Your secret's safe with me, Yamanaka."

As they parted ways—Naruto toward his apartment, Ino toward the Yamanaka compound—both carried with them the sense of something new taking root between them, fragile as a seedling but with the potential to grow into something neither had anticipated.

The calendula found its way into a glass of water on Naruto's windowsill, its vibrant orange petals catching the last light of day as darkness settled over Konoha. In the language of flowers, its meaning was clear—persistence through difficulty. But in the language developing between two young ninja just beginning to see each other clearly, it meant something else entirely.

Something neither was quite ready to name, but both could feel taking shape in the quiet spaces between heartbeats.

# What if Naruto Trains Himself Seriously After Incident in Wave

## Chapter 5: Chūnin Exam Finals

The stadium roared with anticipation, a living beast of twenty thousand voices blending into a single thunderous entity. Sunlight blazed down from a cloudless azure sky, turning the arena's sand into a shimmering golden stage. Flags snapped in the breeze—Konoha's spiral leaf predominant among the symbols of visiting nations, their colors vivid against the weathered stone of the ancient coliseum.

In the competitors' box, Naruto stood perfectly still, a startling contrast to the hyperactive genin of months past. His orange jumpsuit had been replaced by a more subdued outfit—black pants, a burnt-orange short-sleeved jacket over mesh armor, and sturdy combat boots. The Uzumaki spiral emblazoned his back in bold red, a heritage he had only recently begun to appreciate through Jiraiya's carefully measured revelations.

"Nervous?" Shikamaru asked, slouching against the railing beside him.

Naruto's mouth quirked in a half-smile. "Nah. Just ready."

The month of training with Jiraiya had transformed him in ways visible beyond the physical. There was a centered quality to his presence now, a banked fire rather than wild flames. The Rasengan remained incomplete—he could form the spiraling chakra but not yet maintain its stability under combat conditions—but the principles behind it had revolutionized his understanding of chakra manipulation.

"First match," the proctor announced, voice amplified by jutsu to reach the furthest seats. "Naruto Uzumaki versus Neji Hyūga!"

The crowd erupted again, anticipation tinged with skepticism. The matchup seemed comically uneven to those unaware of Naruto's recent growth—the dead-last against the Hyūga prodigy, a foregone conclusion in most betting pools.

As Naruto descended the stairs to the arena floor, his gaze swept across the vast audience, momentarily catching on a familiar flash of platinum blonde in the stands. Ino sat with Chōji and a heavily bandaged Sakura, leaning forward with an intensity that belied her claimed indifference to his match.

The corners of his mouth lifted imperceptibly. Just a month ago, her presence would have meant nothing to him beyond a peripheral awareness. Now, after their unexpectedly meaningful interactions, he found himself oddly pleased that she was watching.

Across the arena, Neji strode toward the center with aristocratic confidence, each step calculated and precise. His pearl-white eyes regarded Naruto with naked disdain, seeing only the failure described in Academy records, not the transformed shinobi who had emerged from the Forest of Death.

"This match is meaningless," Neji stated coldly as they faced off. "Your fate was decided the moment you were paired against me."

Naruto's response was not the explosive indignation of old. Instead, he cocked his head slightly, blue eyes calm as a winter sky. "You talk a lot about fate for someone who's never left Konoha. The world's a lot bigger than you think, Neji."

A flicker of irritation crossed the Hyūga's perfect features. The proctor raised his hand, tension crackling between the combatants like static electricity.

"Begin!"

Neji slid into the Gentle Fist stance, Byakugan activating with veins bulging around his eyes. "I'll make this quick."

In the stands, Ino leaned forward, fingers unconsciously digging into her knees. "He's not rushing in," she murmured, surprise coloring her voice.

"Who?" Chōji asked around a mouthful of chips. "Neji?"

"Naruto," she clarified, eyes never leaving the arena. "The old Naruto would have charged straight into Neji's field of divination like an idiot."

Sakura glanced at her curiously. "Since when do you pay such close attention to Naruto's fighting style?"

Heat crept up Ino's neck, but she dismissed the question with a practiced hair toss. "Professional interest. Know your comrades' capabilities and all that."

Below, the two genin circled each other with measured steps, neither willing to make the first move. Naruto's face held an unfamiliar expression of complete concentration, eyes tracking every micro-shift in Neji's stance.

"Your hesitation only delays the inevitable," Neji taunted. "A failure remains a failure. That is fate."

Naruto's response was to form a familiar cross-shaped seal. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

Five perfect duplicates materialized in a ring around Neji, each dropping into identical ready stances. The Hyūga's lips curled in disdain.

"A useless technique against these eyes. I can see which is the real you."

"Can you?" Naruto replied, his voice coming simultaneously from all six bodies. "You sure about that?"

For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crossed Neji's face. His Byakugan could indeed distinguish chakra signatures, but something was off—the clones' chakra networks appeared identical, a feat that should have been impossible.

In the Hokage's box, Hiruzen Sarutobi leaned forward with sudden interest. "Remarkable," he murmured. "He's distributing his chakra evenly through his clones to confuse the Byakugan. That's jōnin-level chakra control."

Beside him, the disguised Orochimaru wearing the Kazekage's robes studied the battle with narrowed eyes. "The jinchūriki has improved beyond reports," he observed silkily. "How... unexpected."

Back in the arena, Neji's hesitation lasted only a heartbeat before he charged, palms striking with surgical precision at the clone directly before him. The duplicate exploded into smoke—but not before landing a solid kick to Neji's ribs that sent him skidding backward.

"Impossible," the Hyūga hissed, genuine shock registering on his aristocratic features. "A clone cannot—"

"Cannot what?" the remaining Narutos chorused, their grins identical and infuriating. "Hit that hard? Know which way you'd dodge? Predict your attack pattern?"

Up in the stands, Hiashi Hyūga activated his own Byakugan, brow furrowing in consternation. "The boy is using chakra weight distribution to make his clones more substantial," he remarked to his younger daughter. "Such manipulation requires precise control that most jōnin lack."

"N-Naruto-kun has been training v-very hard," Hinata replied softly, hope warring with family loyalty in her gentle eyes.

The battle below intensified as Neji adapted to this new threat, his Gentle Fist strikes becoming more aggressive, targeting chakra points with devastating accuracy. Three more clones vanished in rapid succession, but not before each landed glancing blows that gradually accumulated.

"You're within my field of divination," Neji announced suddenly, dropping into a stance that sent terror through every Hyūga branch family member watching. "Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms!"

His hands blurred, striking with impossible speed at the remaining Naruto. "Two palms! Four palms! Eight palms!"

"He's done for," a nearby spectator declared with finality. "No one escapes the Sixty-Four Palms."

Ino's knuckles whitened around the edge of her seat. "Come on, Naruto," she whispered, too softly for her companions to hear. "Show him."

"Thirty-two palms! Sixty-four palms!" Neji concluded the devastating sequence with a final strike to the heart, certainty of victory etched in every line of his body.

The last Naruto staggered backward, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth... and then vanished in a puff of smoke.

Absolute silence fell over the stadium.

"A clone?" Neji breathed, genuine disbelief shattering his composure. "But where—"

The ground beneath him erupted, sand flying as Naruto burst upward like an orange missile, fist connecting with Neji's jaw in an uppercut of magnificent precision. The Hyūga prodigy sailed through the air, landing hard on his back fifteen feet away.

The stadium exploded with sound—cheers, gasps, exclamations of disbelief cascading down from the stands like an avalanche.

"He hid underground while we were all watching the clones," Shikamaru observed from the competitors' box, unable to completely mask his admiration. "Troublesome guy actually developed a strategy."

In her seat, Ino was on her feet without realizing she'd stood, heart hammering against her ribs with an excitement she couldn't quite explain. "Yes!" she exclaimed, punching the air before catching herself and sitting down hastily, ignoring Sakura's knowing smile.

Neji rose slowly, blood streaming from his split lip, ivory eyes wide with the first genuine shock he'd likely experienced in years. "How?" he demanded. "My Byakugan sees everything. There's no way you could hide your chakra from these eyes."

Naruto stood tall in the center of the arena, not a trace of his old gloating visible despite his advantage. "I didn't hide my chakra," he explained. "I distributed it. One shadow clone transformed into a rock beside the arena wall. When you focused on the attacking clones, I used a replacement technique to switch with it, then Earth Style: Headhunter Jutsu to go underground."

In the spectator stands, Kakashi's visible eye widened fractionally. "He's combined three different techniques into a seamless strategy," the jōnin murmured. "Using my own jutsu, no less."

Gai, beside him, nodded vigorously. "MOST YOUTHFUL! He has clearly been fanning his flames of youth into a ROARING INFERNO OF TACTICAL BRILLIANCE!"

Neji's face hardened, the momentary crack in his perfect facade sealing over. "A clever trick," he conceded, sliding back into his fighting stance. "But this match is far from decided."

What followed was a battle that would be discussed in Konoha's training grounds for years to come. Neji, recognizing Naruto as a legitimate threat, abandoned his customary restraint for aggressive Gentle Fist combinations. Naruto countered with an unpredictable mixture of shadow clones, earth techniques learned from scrolls, and the water manipulation exercises Jiraiya had drilled into him.

Neither would yield. Blood stained the sand beneath their feet, sweat plastered hair to foreheads, and chakra networks strained under relentless demands.

"Rotation!" Neji shouted, spinning to create the perfect chakra defense that was supposed to be reserved for the main branch. The blue dome deflected Naruto's clones, sending them flying in all directions.

"He shouldn't know that technique," Hiashi whispered, shock evident in his usually composed features. "That's a main branch technique."

When the rotation ceased, Neji stood in the center of a perfect circle of smooth sand, chest heaving but pride radiating from every pore. "You see? This is the difference between us. Even with all your improvements, you face the unbreakable defense of the Hyūga clan."

Naruto wiped blood from a cut above his eye, his breathing equally labored. "Nice trick," he acknowledged. "But you're missing something important, Neji."

"And what would that be?" the Hyūga asked with cold superiority.

"What it means to be truly trapped." Naruto's voice shifted, taking on a depth and gravity that silenced the murmuring crowd. "You talk about fate and cages and how some people can never escape their destiny. But your cage is unlocked, Neji. You've just convinced yourself you can't open the door."

The words struck with more force than any physical blow. Neji's perfect composure wavered, something vulnerable and raw flashing behind his eyes. "You know nothing of my cage," he hissed. "The curse seal—"

"Is a mark," Naruto interrupted. "Like this," he pulled up his jacket and mesh armor, revealing his stomach and the seal that contained the Nine-Tails. "Some of us don't get a choice about the marks we carry. But we all choose what to do with them."

A collective gasp rippled through the audience. Most genin didn't recognize the complex sealing array, but every jōnin present instantly understood the significance. Naruto had just publicly acknowledged his status as a jinchūriki.

In the stands, Ino stared in stunned silence, the revelation crystallizing scattered pieces of information she'd glimpsed in Naruto's mind during their forest encounter.

"That's why the villagers..." she whispered, pieces falling into place with horrifying clarity. "All this time, he's been carrying—"

"You shouldn't have seen that," Sakura murmured beside her, green eyes wide with worry. "It's an S-class secret."

Ino rounded on her, indignation flushing her cheeks. "You knew? How long?"

"Since the bridge in Wave Country," Sakura admitted. "But we're not supposed to talk about it."

Down in the arena, the atmosphere had shifted from combat to something more profound. Neji's attack stance had softened imperceptibly, uncertainty bleeding into his perfect form.

"You cannot understand what it means to have your fate sealed from birth," he insisted, but the absolute conviction had drained from his voice.

"Try me," Naruto challenged, his expression open and earnest beneath the dirt and blood of battle. "Your father died in place of Hinata's, right? You think that was his fate, to die for the main branch?"

Neji's face contorted with suppressed emotion. "How dare you—"

"He chose to die," Naruto pressed on. "Not because of fate. Not because of the curse seal. Because he loved his brother, and he wanted to make his own choice for once. That was his freedom, Neji. His one act of defiance against the cage you're so sure we can't escape."

The Hyūga prodigy stood frozen, the perfect fighting machine suddenly rendered motionless by words that struck at the core of his being.

"Now," Naruto continued, forming a familiar cross-shaped seal. "Let me show you my answer to your 'fate'."

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

The arena vanished beneath a sea of orange and black—not five clones, not ten, but hundreds filling every available space in a display of raw chakra capacity that left spectators gaping. From the Kage box to the highest tiers, the audience witnessed a technique that shouldn't have been possible for a genin, a chakra expenditure that defied conventional understanding.

"Water Style: Pressure Wave!" the real Naruto shouted, combining his elemental practice with the pure physical force of his enhanced chakra.

A surge of water erupted from seemingly nowhere, drawn from the moisture in the air and ground through sheer force of will. It wasn't an elegant jutsu—far from the refined techniques of a Kiri ninja—but the raw power behind it created a tsunami in miniature that swept toward Neji with unstoppable momentum.

"Rotation!" the Hyūga called again, chakra dome forming—but this time, Naruto was prepared.

As Neji spun, three shadow clones dived beneath the wave, burrowing into the now-muddy ground with Earth Style techniques. The water crashed against the rotation, the unstoppable force meeting the immovable object in a spectacular collision that drenched the first three rows of spectators.

When the deluge cleared, Neji stood in his defensive stance, breathing hard but unharmed within his perfect circle—just as planned.

"Is that all?" he managed, triumph starting to creep back into his expression.

The ground beneath him liquefied as three clones erupted simultaneously, grasping his ankles and legs in an unbreakable hold. The real Naruto emerged behind him, kunai pressed to the Hyūga's throat with surgical precision.

"No," Naruto answered simply. "That's not all."

Silence blanketed the arena, broken only by the dripping of water and the ragged breathing of two exhausted genin. The proctor stepped forward, surveying the scene with professional assessment.

"Winner: Naruto Uzumaki!"

The stadium erupted.

---

"Unbelievable!" Kiba howled, fist pumping the air despite his lingering injuries from his own preliminary defeat. "The dead-last just took down the Hyūga prodigy!"

Hinata's face glowed with a mixture of family shame and personal delight, emotions she couldn't begin to disentangle.

In her seat between Sakura and Chōji, Ino struggled with her own complex reaction. Pride—inexplicable but undeniable—warred with shock at the revelation of the Nine-Tails. The mystery of Naruto Uzumaki had just deepened exponentially, layers peeling back to reveal more questions than answers.

"Did you know?" she asked Shikamaru as he slouched into the seat Sakura had vacated to check on Sasuke. "About the... thing on his stomach?"

Shikamaru's sharp eyes assessed her with lazy precision. "I suspected," he admitted. "The adults' behavior never made sense otherwise. Troublesome secret to keep from us, considering we're supposed to be his comrades."

"He's carried that burden alone," Ino murmured, watching as medical-nin attended to both combatants in the arena below. "All this time, with everyone treating him like—"

She stopped, uncomfortable awareness of her own past dismissal of Naruto washing over her.

"Like he was worthless," Shikamaru finished for her, his typically bored expression softening fractionally. "Yeah. Makes you think, doesn't it?"

It did. Ino's mind raced through a kaleidoscope of memories—Naruto pranking their Academy teachers, shouting about becoming Hokage, failing the simplest jutsu while she and others mocked him. All while containing a creature that had nearly destroyed their village, a burden no child should bear alone.

"He's different now," she said finally, as much to herself as to Shikamaru. "Not just stronger. More... complete."

Shikamaru's lips quirked in a knowing half-smile. "And since when do you notice such things about Naruto Uzumaki?"

Heat bloomed in Ino's cheeks, but before she could formulate a properly scathing retort, the world exploded.

Feathers drifted down from nowhere, a subtle genjutsu descending over the stadium like silent snow. Civilians slumped in their seats, shinobi's hands formed the release sign in practiced unison, and the unmistakable sounds of combat erupted from multiple directions simultaneously.

"Invasion!" Shikamaru hissed, instantly alert despite his perpetual slouch. "Sand and Sound!"

Chaos erupted across the stadium. Jōnin blurred into defensive formations, ANBU materialized from concealment, and the terrifying sound of a massive crash suggested summons had appeared outside the village walls.

Through the confusion, Ino caught a glimpse of orange and black racing up the stadium wall toward a flash of red hair—Naruto pursuing Gaara, who had vanished from the competitors' box at the first sign of conflict.

"Naruto's going after the Sand genin," she reported, Yamanaka training kicking in as she assessed threats and allies. "Sakura and Sasuke are already following."

Shikamaru's eyes narrowed. "There's something wrong with that Gaara kid. Something... troublesome."

"More troublesome than an invasion?" Ino shot back, kunai already in hand as she deflected a sound kunai aimed at a fallen civilian.

"Yeah," Shikamaru nodded, face uncharacteristically serious. "I think he might be like Naruto."

The implication struck Ino like physical blow. Another jinchūriki—but unlike Naruto, one whose eyes promised death and chaos without remorse.

"We have to help them," she decided, already moving toward the stadium exit.

Shikamaru caught her wrist. "Our orders are to evacuate civilians and defend the village core. The jōnin will handle the Sand genin."

"The jōnin are occupied with the main invasion force," Ino countered, jerking her arm free. "And if that redhead is what you think he is, Naruto's team will need backup."

For a moment, indecision warred on Shikamaru's usually impassive features. Then he sighed, the sound drowned by distant explosions. "Troublesome woman. Fine, but we find Asuma-sensei first."

---

The forest blurred beneath Naruto's feet as he raced through the canopy, pushing his already depleted chakra reserves to maintain pursuit. Ahead, sand swirled ominously around Gaara's retreating form, the redhead clutching his head in apparent agony.

"Something's happening to him," Sakura gasped, struggling to keep pace beside him. "His chakra is fluctuating wildly."

Sasuke, on Naruto's other flank, activated his Sharingan despite the pain that flashed across his features. "It's similar to your red chakra, Naruto," he confirmed grimly. "But more... unstable."

The implication needed no elaboration. Another jinchūriki, but one without Naruto's hard-won control or moral compass.

"We need to stop him before he reaches the village," Naruto decided, forming a cross-seal to create shadow clones that fanned out ahead. "The invasion is just a distraction. He's the real weapon."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a roar shattered the forest calm—a sound no human throat could produce, primal and terrifying in its raw power. The trees ahead exploded into splinters as something massive thrashed into existence.

"What the hell is that?!" Sakura cried as they skidded to a halt on a wide branch.

Before them, a grotesque transformation was underway. Sand enveloped half of Gaara's body, reshaping into a monstrous arm tipped with dagger-like claws. One eye had morphed into a glowing yellow orb set in the twisted tan material, pupil shaped like a four-pointed star. His face contorted in a rictus of pain and ecstasy.

"Mother wants your blood, Uzumaki!" he shrieked, voice overlaid with inhuman harmonics. "She says you're like me... but WEAK!"

The monstrous arm lashed out with impossible speed, shattering the branch where Team 7 had stood a heartbeat earlier. They scattered, muscle memory from countless training sessions enabling perfect coordination without a word spoken.

"We can't beat that thing head-on," Sasuke assessed, Sharingan tracking the sand construct's movements. "Even with all three of us."

"We don't need to beat him," Naruto replied, mind racing through strategies. "Just contain him until help arrives. Sasuke, your fire jutsu might turn his sand to glass if it's hot enough. Sakura, you're our tactical coordinator—track his movements and find weaknesses."

Both teammates nodded, momentarily taken aback by Naruto's natural assumption of leadership but recognizing the logic of his plan.

The battle that followed pushed Team 7 beyond any previous challenge. Gaara's partial transformation granted him terrifying strength and resilience, while his increasingly unstable mental state made his attacks wildly unpredictable. Sand tendrils whipped through the forest, splinters flying like shrapnel as ancient trees shattered under the onslaught.

Sakura coordinated their movements from concealment, using Academy code whistles to direct synchronized attacks. Sasuke's fire techniques momentarily immobilized sections of sand, creating openings for Naruto's shadow clones to land disruptive strikes.

But Gaara's transformation continued inexorably, more and more of his humanity dissolving beneath living sand.

"I feel your hatred," he hissed at Naruto during a momentary lull. "The same darkness I carry. Why do you resist it? Why pretend to be something you're not?"

Naruto landed on a high branch, chest heaving with exertion. "I'm not pretending," he answered, voice steady despite his fatigue. "I chose something different than you, that's all."

"LIES!" Gaara roared, the sound rattling leaves. "We are weapons! That is our only purpose!"

"I'm a person first," Naruto countered. "The power I carry doesn't define me. And it doesn't have to define you either, Gaara."

For a fraction of a second, something human flickered in Gaara's remaining normal eye—confusion, perhaps, or the faintest glimmer of longing. Then the moment shattered as a massive tail of sand erupted from his lower back, completing his transformation into a miniature version of the One-Tailed Beast.

"Too late," the sand-creature growled, voice no longer even remotely human. "Now you die, and prove my existence!"

A tidal wave of sand crashed toward Team 7's position, too vast to dodge, too powerful to block. Sasuke grabbed Sakura and leapt clear with the last of his strength, Sharingan predicting the one narrow escape route.

Naruto stood his ground, blue eyes hardening with determination. Deep within, he reached for the power he'd spent a month learning to access with greater control.

"I need to borrow some chakra," he whispered to his unwilling tenant. "Just enough to save my friends."

Red chakra bubbled to the surface, enveloping him in a translucent cloak that steamed where it touched the air. Unlike previous manifestations, when the Nine-Tails' influence had clouded his mind with rage, Naruto maintained clear focus—a partnership of necessity rather than a possession.

In the stands, Jiraiya paused mid-battle to glance toward the forest, sensing the distinctive chakra flare. "That's my student," he murmured with a mixture of concern and pride. "Holding his own against another Bijū."

With a roar that mirrored Gaara's, Naruto charged directly into the sand wave, red chakra claws extending from his hands to tear through the mineral onslaught like paper. He erupted from the other side in a blur of orange and crimson, landing a devastating blow to the transformed Gaara's chest that sent the sand construct crashing through multiple trees.

"How?!" Gaara shrieked, genuine fear entering his voice for perhaps the first time in his life. "How are you this strong?!"

Naruto stood before him, red chakra swirling but eyes remaining their natural blue—still in control, still himself despite the corrosive power flowing through his chakra network.

"Because I'm not fighting for myself," he answered simply. "I'm fighting for the people I care about. That's where real strength comes from, Gaara."

A sound of pure frustration tore from Gaara's transformed throat. Sand exploded outward in all directions, a desperate final attack born of incomprehension as much as hatred.

What happened next would be debated by the few witnesses for years to come. Naruto, drawing deeply on the Nine-Tails' chakra while maintaining unprecedented control, formed a spiraling sphere of energy in his palm—not the complete Rasengan, but a variation uniquely his own, red chakra stabilizing the blue core in a perfect balance of power and control.

"Rasengan!" he shouted, driving the technique directly into the center of Gaara's sand form.

The resulting explosion sent both jinchūriki hurtling in opposite directions, trees toppling in their wake. When the dust settled, Gaara lay in human form once more, sand scattered uselessly around him, blue eyes wide with shock as Naruto crawled toward him with the last of his strength.

"Stay back," the Sand ninja whispered, genuine terror replacing the homicidal mania of moments before. "What are you?"

Naruto collapsed an arm's length away, too exhausted to move further. "I told you," he managed through battered lips. "I'm like you. A jinchūriki. But I found precious people to fight for, instead of only fighting for myself."

Incomprehension warred with desperate longing on Gaara's face. "Precious... people?"

"Friends. Teammates. People who see me, not just the monster inside me." Naruto's voice grew stronger with conviction despite his physical exhaustion. "You could have that too, Gaara. Your siblings... they care about you, even though they're afraid. I've seen it in their eyes."

As if summoned by his words, Temari and Kankurō crashed through the underbrush, faces etched with worry that transformed to shock at the scene before them—their invincible youngest brother defeated and vulnerable, engaged in quiet conversation with the enemy he'd been sent to destroy.

"The invasion?" Gaara asked weakly, not looking at his siblings.

"Failed," Temari reported, approaching cautiously as if expecting Gaara to lash out. "The Leaf detected our forces too early. Baki-sensei has called a retreat."

"Good," Gaara whispered, the word so uncharacteristic that both his siblings froze in disbelief. "Take me home. I need to... think."

As the Sand siblings departed, supporting Gaara between them, Naruto finally surrendered to his depleted chakra and accumulated injuries. Darkness crept in from the edges of his vision, the forest tilting sideways as he slumped against the nearest tree trunk.

The last thing he registered before consciousness fled was a flash of platinum blonde and the sensation of cool hands against his face, a familiar voice calling his name with uncharacteristic urgency.

"Naruto! Stay with me, you idiot. Don't you dare pass out after all that..."

Ino's face swam above him, smudged with dirt and worry in equal measure. He tried to form a reassuring smile but wasn't sure if his muscles complied before the world faded to black.

---

Konoha mourned in the rain.

Droplets fell in solemn rhythm from a gray sky, as if the heavens themselves wept for the Leaf's fallen leader. Black-clad shinobi and civilians stood in silent rows before the memorial, heads bowed beneath the deluge as the Third Hokage's portrait stared out from a sea of white chrysanthemums.

Naruto stood among them, bandages still visible beneath his formal black attire, azure eyes fixed on the face of the man who had been the closest thing to a grandfather he had ever known. Three days had passed since the invasion—three days of clearing rubble, healing wounds, and coming to terms with a world fundamentally altered by absence.

The Sandaime had fallen defeating Orochimaru, taking his own student's arms with him into death through a forbidden sealing technique. A noble end, the village elders called it. A fitting sacrifice for a Hokage.

It felt hollow to Naruto, standing there in the rain. No death could be fitting for someone so vital, so necessary. The village already felt smaller without Hiruzen's presence, like a night sky missing its brightest star.

As the ceremony concluded, people began to disperse in solemn pairs and groups, seeking shelter from the strengthening downpour. Naruto remained, raindrops mingling with tears he made no effort to conceal.

"You'll catch cold," came a soft voice beside him.

He turned to find Ino, a black umbrella held above her head, blonde hair subdued in a simple ponytail rather than her usual proud style. Her eyes, typically sharp with challenge or criticism, held only gentle concern.

"I don't get sick easily," he replied, but accepted when she extended the umbrella to cover them both.

They stood in silence for several long moments, watching as the last mourners filtered away, leaving only ANBU guards at the memorial's perimeter.

"He used to take me for ramen," Naruto said finally, voice rough with emotion. "Once a month, regular as clockwork. No matter how busy he was. Said a Hokage needed to know the people he protected, not just the village as an idea."

Ino nodded, not offering empty platitudes or changing the subject as others might have. "He came to the flower shop every week for fresh flowers for his office," she shared. "Always asked about my training, remembered details from conversations months earlier."

Another stretch of companionable silence, broken only by the gentle percussion of rain against the umbrella.

"I heard you're leaving soon," Ino ventured eventually. "With Jiraiya-sama."

Naruto nodded. "The village needs Tsunade to become the Fifth Hokage. Jiraiya thinks I might help convince her."

"When will you be back?"

"Few weeks, maybe a month." He glanced at her, surprised by the question. "Why?"

Ino shifted, a hint of her old defensiveness returning. "Professional curiosity. The village needs every capable ninja after what happened."

The corner of Naruto's mouth twitched upward. "Professional curiosity. Right."

"Don't get cocky, Uzumaki," she warned, but the familiar sharpness carried a new undercurrent of affection. "I'm still processing the fact that you're actually useful in combat now."

He laughed, the sound startling in the somber atmosphere but somehow appropriate too—life continuing despite loss, joy possible even in grief.

"Before I go," he said, reaching into his pocket, "I wanted to give you something."

From within his formal black jacket, he produced a small potted plant—barely four inches tall, with delicate green leaves and the promise of future blooms.

"A calendula," he explained, suddenly self-conscious under her surprised gaze. "Like the one you gave me, but... you know, with roots. So it can keep growing."

Ino accepted the pot with careful hands, genuine emotion flickering across her features before she managed to compose herself. "You actually learned the name," she said, a smile threatening at the corners of her mouth. "I'm impressed."

"I pay attention to important things," Naruto replied, simplicity lending weight to the words that might otherwise have seemed like a line.

They began walking together toward the village center, the memorial receding behind them. The rain continued to fall, but somehow it felt cleansing now rather than mournful—washing away the old to make space for new growth.

"When you get back," Ino said as they reached the point where their paths would diverge, "I could show you some basic medical plants. Useful for field missions when you're out of soldier pills."

The offer was casual, but they both recognized it for what it was—an extension of something neither was quite ready to name, a promise of continued connection.

"I'd like that," Naruto answered simply.

They parted ways at the crossroads—Ino toward the Yamanaka compound, Naruto toward his apartment to prepare for tomorrow's departure. But something traveled with him as he walked through the rain-washed streets, a warmth that had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with the knowledge that when he returned to Konoha, someone would be waiting specifically for him.

The rain began to ease as twilight settled over the village, curtains of gray giving way to patches of clearing sky. Above the Hokage Monument, the clouds parted just enough to reveal a single star, brilliant against the deepening blue—not a replacement for what was lost, but a promise of light returning after darkness.

Naruto paused to look up at it, the tiny potted calendula plant held securely in Ino's hands across the village an echo of the same sentiment—life continuing, growing, reaching toward light even after the hardest rain.

# What if Naruto Trains Himself Seriously After Incident in Wave

## Chapter 6: Search for Tsunade

Dawn painted Konoha in watercolor shades of amber and rose, light spilling over the still-shattered eastern wall where giant snake summons had breached the village's defenses. Scaffolding spiked skyward like strange metallic trees, silhouettes of workers already crawling across them despite the early hour. The village was healing—slowly, painfully, but with the stubborn resilience that had defined it since its founding.

Naruto stood at the foot of the Hokage Tower, a stuffed backpack slung over one shoulder. His new outfit—sturdier and more subdued than his old orange jumpsuit—still carried his signature color in accents rather than overwhelming presence. Like the ninja who wore it, the clothing had evolved from loud declaration to confident statement.

"Ready to go, kid?" Jiraiya materialized beside him, massive scroll strapped to his back, white hair gleaming in the morning light.

"Almost." Naruto adjusted his pack, blue eyes scanning the village streets. "There's something I need to do first."

The Toad Sage raised an eyebrow, clearly prepared to object, then caught something in his student's expression that made him reconsider. "One hour," he conceded. "Meet me at the east gate. And don't make me come looking for you—I've got research waiting in the next town over."

"Your 'research' can wait," Naruto retorted, the eye roll practically audible in his voice. "This is important."

Jiraiya's laughter followed him down the street, rich and knowing in a way that made Naruto's neck warm with self-consciousness. The old pervert missed nothing, especially when it came to his student's emerging interest in a certain blonde kunoichi.

The Yamanaka Flower Shop wouldn't open for another hour according to the schedule posted on its door, but warm light already glowed behind the windows. Inside, a familiar silhouette moved among the displays, preparing for the day's business.

Naruto hesitated, suddenly uncertain. What had seemed like a perfectly reasonable errand now felt weighted with implications he wasn't sure he was ready to face. A simple purchase or something more?

Before he could second-guess himself further, the door swung open. Ino stood framed in the doorway, purple apron tied over her regular ninja attire, platinum blonde hair swept into a practical bun rather than her usual ponytail. Early morning sunlight caught in it like fire in spun gold.

"Are you going to stand there all day, or did you actually want something?" Her tone was sharp as ever, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, softening the words into something closer to teasing than criticism.

"I need flowers," Naruto blurted, then winced at his own gracelessness. "For the Third. A memorial arrangement. I'm leaving with Jiraiya, and I wanted to leave something at the memorial first."

Ino's expression gentled. She stepped aside, gesturing him into the humid, fragrant interior of the shop. "Come in. We're not officially open, but I can help you with that."

Inside, the shop was a riot of color and scent—explosions of crimson and violet and sunshine yellow, interspersed with cooling greens and delicate whites. Naruto breathed deeply, finding the complex perfume strangely calming.

"I heard you're searching for the next Hokage," Ino said, moving behind the counter where several partially-completed arrangements waited. "One of the legendary Sannin, right? Tsunade?"

Naruto nodded, watching as her nimble fingers selected stems from various buckets. "Jiraiya says the village needs her medical knowledge as much as her leadership. Too many injured from the invasion."

"She revolutionized battlefield medicine during the Second Shinobi War," Ino confirmed, her knowledge surprising him. "The survival rate of frontline shinobi tripled under her protocols. My father says the hospital has never been the same since she left."

"You know a lot about her."

Ino's hands never stopped moving, selecting blooms with quick, decisive motions. "I've been studying medical techniques," she admitted, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "The invasion showed how badly we need medics who can fight on the front lines. Most medical ninja are stuck in the hospital because their combat skills are too weak for field operations."

Naruto grinned, genuine pleasure warming his chest. "That's perfect for you! You're already strong in combat, and your chakra control is great."

She glanced up, surprise flashing across her features at the casual compliment. "How would you know about my chakra control?"

"Your clan techniques require precise manipulation, right? Plus, your advice about visualization helped me stabilize my Rasengan training." He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious. "I pay attention to important things, remember?"

A soft blush colored her cheeks as she focused intently on the arrangement taking shape beneath her hands. "Yes, well. I still have a lot to learn. I've asked Sakura to study with me—her theoretical knowledge and memorization skills complement my practical approach."

Naruto leaned against the counter, watching her work with undisguised fascination. "That's good. She needs something to focus on while Sasuke's recovering."

The curse mark had left the Uchiha in a complicated state—physically stable thanks to Kakashi's sealing, but psychologically fracturing under Orochimaru's influence. He'd been placed under ANBU observation in the hospital, a fact the village tried to keep quiet but which circulated among the rookies nonetheless.

"He'll pull through," Ino said, but without the passionate conviction that would have colored such a statement mere months ago. "He's stronger than most people realize."

Naruto studied her profile, noting the absence of the starry-eyed adoration that had once defined her interactions regarding Sasuke. "You've changed," he observed quietly.

Her hands stilled for a moment. "So have you," she countered, meeting his gaze directly. "The dead-last who only cared about pranks and ramen wouldn't be standing in a flower shop at dawn, buying a memorial arrangement before a mission."

"Maybe we're both growing up."

"Maybe."

The words hung between them, simple yet profound in their acknowledgment of mutual transformation. Something shifted in the air, charged with potential neither was quite ready to name.

Ino cleared her throat, returning her attention to the flowers. "For the Third, white chrysanthemums are traditional for mourning, but I'm adding flame-colored snapdragons for his spirit and wisdom. Sprigs of oak leaf for strength and maple for balance—he always tried to balance tradition with progress."

Naruto watched her hands weave meaning into beauty, struck by the depth of thought behind each selection. "You really understand him."

"I try to understand everyone," she replied, securing the arrangement with twine. "It's a Yamanaka thing—reading people is as important as reading their minds."

She finished with a blue ribbon, the color of the Will of Fire that the Third had championed throughout his life. The result was stunning—solemn yet vibrant, much like the man it honored.

"How much?" Naruto reached for his frog wallet, considerably plumper these days thanks to mission pay he no longer spent entirely on ramen.

Ino shook her head. "It's on the house. Consider it my contribution to the memorial."

"I can't just—"

"You can and you will," she interrupted firmly. "But you can do me a favor in return."

"Name it."

Her expression softened into something both vulnerable and determined. "Come back safely. The village needs its heroes, especially now."

The simple statement, delivered without her usual verbal armor, struck Naruto with unexpected force. He swallowed hard against a sudden tightness in his throat. "I'll be back before you know it," he promised. "With the future Hokage in tow."

She nodded, sliding the arrangement across the counter. "See that you do, Uzumaki. I'll be checking your progress when you return—both the mission and that Rasengan you're still struggling with."

He laughed, the momentary weight lifting from the conversation. "Yes, ma'am. Any other orders before I leave?"

"Just one." Ino reached beneath the counter and produced a small, carefully wrapped package. "Take this. Field medicine kit—standard supplies plus a few special additions from the Yamanaka pharmacopoeia. Knowing you, you'll need it."

Naruto accepted the package, unexpectedly touched by the practical gift that showed such thoughtfulness. "Thank you," he said simply.

Their fingers brushed during the exchange, the brief contact sending a strange electricity up his arm. Judging by the slight widening of Ino's eyes, she'd felt it too.

"Well," she said briskly, stepping back and wiping her hands on her apron. "You'd better get going. Wouldn't want to keep a Sannin waiting."

Naruto nodded, carefully gathering the memorial arrangement in one arm and tucking the medicine kit into his jacket. At the door, he paused, turning back to find her watching him with an expression he couldn't quite decipher.

"When I get back," he said impulsively, "maybe we could train together sometime? I could use help with my chakra visualization, and you mentioned wanting to practice combat medical techniques..."

The suggestion hung in the air between them, an offering of something beyond their current undefined relationship.

Ino's smile bloomed slowly, transforming her face from pretty to breathtaking. "I'd like that," she replied, the simple acceptance free from her usual verbal sparring or deflection. "It's a date."

The word "date" echoed in Naruto's mind long after he'd left the flower shop, placed the arrangement at the memorial stone, and joined Jiraiya at the village gates. It followed him like a whispered promise as Konoha faded behind them, the road unspooling ahead toward an uncertain future and the search for a reluctant Hokage.

---

"Focus!" Jiraiya's voice cracked like a whip, penetrating Naruto's frustration. "You're forcing it again. The water needs to rotate smoothly—feel the current, don't create it!"

They stood waist-deep in a secluded mountain stream, crystalline water rushing around them, afternoon sunlight fracturing into diamond patterns on the surface. Five days had passed since leaving Konoha, each one packed with intense training between stretches of walking and Jiraiya's "research" detours.

Naruto glared at the rubber ball clutched in his palm, willing it to respond to his chakra the way the water balloon had finally mastered. The second stage of the Rasengan—power—was proving significantly more challenging than the first.

"I am focusing," he growled, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool water surrounding him. "It's not working!"

Jiraiya sighed, massive shoulders slumping with theatrical exasperation. "What's distracting you, kid? You were doing better yesterday. Is it that blonde kunoichi? The pretty one with the sharp tongue?"

Heat rushed to Naruto's face that had nothing to do with chakra exertion. "What? No! I'm not—Ino's just—we're just friends!"

"Uh-huh." The Sannin's knowing smirk stretched across his face. "That's why you've been smiling at that medicine kit she gave you every night, right? Just friendship?"

"You were spying on me?!"

"Observing my student," Jiraiya corrected, utterly unrepentant. "Important part of the teaching process."

Naruto splashed water at the older ninja, who dodged with irritating ease. "Can we just focus on the training?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Jiraiya retorted. "Your chakra circulation is being disrupted by your emotions. The Rasengan requires complete integration of mind and energy."

He waded closer, expression shifting from teasing to serious. "Look, kid, there's nothing wrong with having someone special in your thoughts. But for techniques like this, you need to either set those feelings aside or—better yet—channel them."

"Channel them?" Naruto frowned, turning the rubber ball over in his hands.

"The Fourth created the Rasengan to protect what mattered to him," Jiraiya explained, voice softening with old memories. "His strength came from that purpose, not despite it. When you focus your chakra, think about why you're learning this technique—who you're trying to protect."

Naruto closed his eyes, letting the rushing water anchor him as he reached deep within. Images flashed through his mind—Team 7, Iruka, the Third, and yes, Ino's face as she'd handed him the medicine kit, concern and confidence mingled in her expression.

Something settled in his chest, a quiet certainty replacing frustrated striving. His chakra responded instantly, flowing not like the torrent he'd been forcing but like the natural current surrounding him—powerful but controlled, directed by purpose rather than sheer will.

The rubber ball shuddered in his palm, straining against its confines as chakra rotation intensified within it. A high-pitched whine built to a crescendo, and then—

POP!

The ball exploded, sending rubber fragments skittering across the water's surface. Naruto opened his eyes, staring at his empty palm in amazement.

"I did it," he whispered, then louder, "I DID IT!"

Jiraiya's booming laugh echoed off the surrounding cliffs. "See? The great Jiraiya is never wrong about these things!" He clapped a massive hand on Naruto's shoulder, nearly sending him face-first into the stream. "Especially when it comes to the motivational power of pretty girls!"

Naruto sputtered indignantly, but couldn't suppress the grin stretching across his face. "Whatever, Pervy Sage. Just give me another ball so I can practice."

The Toad Sage produced another rubber ball from his seemingly endless supply, expression shifting to something more serious. "You're progressing faster than I expected, kid. At this rate, we'll be starting the third stage before we even find Tsunade."

"Is that a problem?"

Jiraiya shook his head, genuine pride glimmering in his eyes. "Not at all. Just surprising. The Rasengan typically takes years to master—your father spent three developing it."

The casual reference to his parentage—still a topic Jiraiya danced around without directly addressing—sent Naruto's thoughts spinning in new directions. But before he could press for more information, a chakra signature brushed the edge of his awareness—unfamiliar, yet somehow resonating with the seal on his stomach.

Jiraiya stiffened simultaneously, all humor vanishing from his features. "Out of the water," he commanded, voice deadly serious. "Now."

They scrambled to the shore, instinctively taking defensive positions as two figures materialized on the path ahead—both wearing black cloaks adorned with crimson clouds.

"Naruto Uzumaki," the shorter figure stated, voice flat and emotionless beneath the wide-brimmed hat concealing his features. "You will come with us."

Beside him, a towering blue-skinned man with gill-like facial markings grinned to reveal rows of shark-like teeth. A massive wrapped sword rested on his shoulder, seeming to pulse with hungry anticipation.

"Itachi Uchiha and Kisame Hoshigaki," Jiraiya murmured, stepping protectively in front of Naruto. "Missing-nin of Konoha and Kiri, respectively. S-rank criminals and members of the organization Akatsuki."

"The great Jiraiya of the Sannin," Kisame's grin widened impossibly further. "This complicates matters."

Itachi removed his hat, revealing the familiar features that marked him unmistakably as Sasuke's brother—the same features that had haunted Naruto's teammate with nightmares of massacre and revenge.

"The Nine-Tails jinchūriki is our objective," he stated coldly. "Stand aside."

"Nine-Tails?" Naruto repeated, pieces falling into place with sickening clarity. "You're after the Bijū."

"Perceptive," Kisame chuckled, the sound like gravel in a blender. "Most hosts are oblivious to their value."

Jiraiya's chakra surged, the casual demeanor of the self-proclaimed super-pervert vanishing beneath the deadly focus of a Sannin preparing for battle. "You're not taking my student," he stated, hands already forming seals too fast for Naruto to track.

What followed was a combat unlike anything Naruto had witnessed—ninja arts of the highest caliber unleashed with devastating speed and precision. Itachi's Sharingan blazed crimson, casting genjutsu that would have trapped lesser ninja instantly. Kisame's sword devoured chakra constructs like a starving beast. Jiraiya countered with toad oil and flame techniques that transformed the peaceful riverside into an apocalyptic battlefield.

Naruto wasn't idle. Shadow clones multiplied across the battlefield, providing distractions and gathering intelligence while the real Naruto prepared the newly-mastered second stage of the Rasengan. When an opening appeared in Kisame's defense, he charged, spiraling chakra grinding against the massive sword with a sound like metal tearing.

"The brat's got teeth!" Kisame laughed, genuine delight in his inhuman eyes despite being forced back several steps. "And familiar techniques, too. Interesting."

Itachi's gaze fixed on Naruto with new intensity. "Kisame. We're withdrawing."

"What? But we've barely—"

"Now." Something in Itachi's tone brooked no argument. "This confrontation is premature. We'll find another opportunity."

Black flames erupted between the combatants, forcing Jiraiya and Naruto to leap back or be consumed. When the supernatural fire subsided, the Akatsuki members had vanished, leaving only scorched earth and unsettling questions in their wake.

"They're after the Nine-Tails," Naruto stated, the reality settling like lead in his stomach. "Not me. The fox."

Jiraiya's expression was grim as he extinguished the last traces of Itachi's black fire with a specialized seal. "This is why finding Tsunade has become urgent," he explained. "The village needs leadership with both the Akatsuki moving and Orochimaru's recent attack. You need protection that only a Hokage can authorize."

"I can protect myself," Naruto protested, though the ease with which Itachi and Kisame had found them belied his confidence.

"Against those two?" Jiraiya snorted. "Kid, you've improved tremendously, but that was like watching a kunai try to fight off a meteorite." His expression softened at Naruto's crestfallen look. "But you did better than most jōnin would have. That modified Rasengan actually pushed Kisame back—no small feat against a monster who once took on an entire platoon of Kiri ANBU single-handedly."

Naruto absorbed this, processing both the compliment and the sobering reality check. "So we find Tsunade," he concluded. "And I keep training."

"Exactly." Jiraiya clapped him on the shoulder. "Starting with the third stage of the Rasengan. If you're going to face threats of that caliber, you need every advantage we can give you."

As they resumed their journey, Naruto found his thoughts split between the looming threat of the Akatsuki and his determination to master the technique that had once belonged to his father. Both seemed impossibly daunting, yet neither as immediate and personal as the image of Ino that surfaced when he channeled his chakra—her confident smile and the quiet promise of connection waiting for him back in Konoha.

Something to come back to, he thought, forming the cross-seal for shadow clones to begin his next training session. Someone worth getting stronger for.

---

The Yamanaka family training ground vibrated with focused chakra as Ino drove her palm into the center of a training dummy, precisely targeting the anatomical location of the heart. Green energy flashed at the moment of impact—not a destructive technique, but its opposite: a medical jutsu delivered with combat precision.

"Again!" she commanded herself, sweat plastering platinum blonde strands to her forehead despite the cool evening air. "Faster transition!"

She spun, flowing from the medical strike into a Yamanaka clan technique that sent an invisible pulse of mental energy toward a second target. The dummy's head snapped back as if physically struck, though not a single physical blow had landed.

"Better," came Inoichi Yamanaka's measured assessment from the edge of the training ground. "But your chakra fluctuates between the medical technique and the mind disruption. The transition needs to be seamless, or you'll exhaust yourself in a real combat situation."

Ino nodded, wiping sweat from her brow with a determined gesture. "One more sequence."

Her father's expression softened with pride despite his professional critique. "You've been pushing yourself hard these past weeks. The medical corps instructors tell me you've progressed through their basic curriculum at record pace."

"Not fast enough," Ino replied, repositioning herself for another attempt. "If we'd had more combat medics during the invasion, the casualty list would have been shorter."

It wasn't the whole truth, though not exactly a lie either. Yes, the invasion had revealed critical gaps in Konoha's tactical medical response. But the image that drove Ino through exhaustion and frustration was more specific—Naruto's unconscious form after his battle with Gaara, blood seeping through his jacket, vital signs fading under her desperately untrained hands.

She had been helpless then, able to offer only basic first aid while praying for Kakashi or another jōnin to find them before it was too late. The memory haunted her, fueling a determination that surprised even her clan head father with its intensity.

"What drives you matters less than that you're driven," Inoichi had told her when she'd first requested specialized training, his knowing eyes seeing more than she'd voiced aloud. "But remember, strength developed for others becomes truly powerful when you also value it for yourself."

The sun dipped below the treeline as Ino completed her final training sequence, each movement more fluid than the last, the transitions between healing and combat techniques gradually smoothing into a single integrated flow. Medical ninjutsu was typically stationary, performed in controlled environments. Combining it with active combat required revolutionary approaches—exactly the challenge that appealed to Ino's innovative mind.

"Enough for today," Inoichi announced, tossing her a towel. "Any more and you risk chakra depletion."

Ino caught the towel with a grateful nod, her muscles trembling with satisfying fatigue. "Has there been any word? About Naruto and Jiraiya-sama finding Tsunade?"

Her father's eyes crinkled with that same knowing look that made her want to simultaneously confide in him and hide under a rock. "Nothing official," he replied. "Though Intelligence received reports of a significant battle at Tanzaku Town. Descriptions match Tsunade and Orochimaru, with two additional combatants that could have been Jiraiya and Naruto."

"Orochimaru?" Ino's exhaustion vanished beneath a surge of alarm. "Is Naruto—are they—"

"The report indicated all parties survived," Inoichi assured her quickly. "And Orochimaru was forced to retreat. Beyond that, details are classified until official mission reports are filed."

Relief washed through her, followed by irritation at her own transparent concern. "I'm just interested from a tactical perspective," she insisted, avoiding her father's amused gaze. "If Tsunade-sama returns, the medical program will expand, which affects my training."

"Of course," Inoichi agreed with maddening equanimity. "Purely professional interest."

Ino narrowed her eyes at him, recognizing the gentle teasing for what it was. "Don't you have some Intelligence Division reports to analyze or something?"

He laughed, the sound warming the twilight air. "As a matter of fact, I do. But a father's most important intelligence gathering happens right here." He tapped his chest, directly over his heart.

"Dad," she groaned, mortification heating her cheeks.

Inoichi's expression sobered. "In all seriousness, Ino, I'm proud of the shinobi you're becoming. Your progress these past weeks shows a dedication I always knew you possessed but that you sometimes hid beneath other concerns."

The simple praise, delivered without qualification or expectation, caught Ino off-guard. Her father had always been supportive but rarely this direct in his approval. "Thanks, Dad," she managed, unexpected emotion tightening her throat.

He embraced her briefly, then stepped back with a more typical brisk nod. "Clean up and rest. Tomorrow we integrate the mind-transfer technique with your medical applications—a challenging combination even for experienced Yamanaka."

As her father departed, Ino remained in the training ground, stretching tired muscles while her thoughts drifted to Tanzaku Town and what might have transpired there. The idea of Naruto facing Orochimaru—the same monster who had defeated the Third and left Sasuke psychologically fractured—sent cold fear skittering down her spine.

Please be okay, she thought, the silent plea directed toward wherever her fellow blonde might be. Just come back in one loudmouthed, hyperactive piece.

The memory of his promise in the flower shop—"I'll be back before you know it"—replayed in her mind. She found herself hoping, with an intensity that would have shocked her former self, that this was one promise Naruto Uzumaki wouldn't break.

---

Tanzaku Town lay behind them, the confrontation with Orochimaru and Kabuto still fresh in Naruto's mind as they approached Konoha's massive gates. Beside him walked Tsunade—the legendary Slug Sannin, the world's greatest medical ninja, and now, the Fifth Hokage of Konohagakure. Her youthful appearance belied both her true age and the weariness that occasionally showed in her amber eyes when she thought no one was looking.

"Stop fidgeting," she snapped, catching Naruto's restless movements. "Your wounds are still healing. Push yourself too hard and I'll sedate you until we reach the hospital."

Naruto grimaced, phantom pain flaring in his chest where Kabuto's chakra scalpel had severed muscle connections during their battle. "I'm fine," he insisted for perhaps the twentieth time that day. "You already healed most of it."

"Most is not all," Tsunade retorted with the imperious certainty of someone who had spent decades putting shinobi back together. "Muscle tissue needs time to fully reintegrate, especially after chakra-based severing techniques."

Jiraiya chuckled from Naruto's other side. "Better listen to her, kid. Tsunade's bedside manner is legendary—and not in a good way."

The female Sannin's eye twitched dangerously. "Keep talking, Jiraiya, and you'll need medical attention yourself."

Naruto tuned out their bickering, attention fixed on the approaching gates. Anticipation thrummed through him, a nervous energy that had little to do with returning to the village in general and everything to do with certain specific inhabitants.

Would she be there? The thought surfaced unbidden, bringing with it an inexplicable flutter in his stomach. Probably not—Ino would have missions, training, the flower shop. There was no reason she'd know exactly when they were returning or take time from her busy schedule just to...

His train of thought derailed completely as they passed through the massive gateway into Konoha. There, leaning against the guard station with studied casualness, stood a familiar figure in purple, platinum blonde hair catching the late afternoon sunlight.

Ino straightened as they approached, arms crossed in a posture that might have appeared standoffish if not for the relieved smile that broke through her composed expression. "About time," she called, eyes sweeping over Naruto with an assessment that missed nothing—the bandages visible beneath his mesh shirt, the slightly stiff way he carried himself. "The whole village's been waiting for the new Hokage."

Tsunade raised an eyebrow, giving Ino an appraising look. "A Yamanaka," she noted. "Inoichi's daughter, by the look of you."

Ino bowed respectfully, though her eyes kept darting to Naruto. "Yes, Tsunade-sama. Ino Yamanaka, genin of Team Ten."

"Hmm. Your father tells me you've been terrorizing the medical corps instructors with your rapid progress." A hint of approval colored Tsunade's voice. "Integrated combat medical techniques are something I've advocated for years. Stop by the hospital tomorrow—I want to assess your capabilities personally."

Ino's eyes widened, genuine shock breaking through her composed facade. "I—yes, Hokage-sama. Thank you!"

Tsunade nodded briskly, then turned to Jiraiya. "Let's get the formal reception over with. I want a full damage assessment of the village before sunset."

As the two Sannin moved ahead, trailed by the ANBU escort that had materialized silently around them, Naruto and Ino were left in a moment of unexpected privacy.

"You came to meet us," Naruto observed, unable to keep the pleased surprise from his voice.

Ino tossed her ponytail with a hint of her old haughtiness, though the effect was somewhat undermined by the smile she couldn't quite suppress. "I volunteered for gate duty. Someone needs to track incoming missions, and the regular staff is overwhelmed with invasion recovery logistics."

"Right," Naruto nodded solemnly. "Gate duty. Very important."

"Exactly."

They held serious expressions for approximately three seconds before dissolving into laughter—his bright and unrestrained, hers more controlled but equally genuine.

"You look terrible," she informed him, eyes cataloging the visible bandages and the shadows of exhaustion beneath his eyes. "What happened? The intelligence reports mentioned Orochimaru, but details were classified."

Naruto grimaced, falling into step beside her as they followed the Sannin at a more leisurely pace. "We found Tsunade in Tanzaku Town, but Orochimaru found her first. He offered to resurrect her brother and lover if she healed his arms—the ones the Third took with him."

Ino's breath caught. "That's... monstrous. Using her grief like that."

"Yeah. She almost took the deal too, until..." He hesitated, unsure how much to reveal about Tsunade's breakdown and his own role in reminding her of the Will of Fire. "Until she remembered what they would have wanted. Then Orochimaru's assistant, this creepy guy named Kabuto, attacked us."

"That's how you were injured?" Ino guessed, eyes narrowing as she took in the way he unconsciously guarded his right side.

Naruto nodded. "Chakra scalpel to the chest. Severed a bunch of muscle connections. Would've been worse if I hadn't started mastering the Rasengan."

"You completed it?" Interest sparked in her eyes. "The Fourth's technique?"

"Almost," he admitted. "I can form it consistently now, but it's still not as stable as it should be. Jiraiya says I'm making it my own version, which is fine, but..."

"But you want to master the original first," Ino finished for him, understanding immediately. "As a foundation before you innovate."

Her intuitive grasp of his thinking caught him off-guard—pleasantly so. "Exactly! That's exactly it. Jiraiya kept saying to just go with my instincts, but I want to understand the principles completely before I start modifying them."

Ino's smile held a hint of pride mixed with something warmer. "Smart approach. Foundational mastery before creative variation—that's what my father always taught me about clan techniques."

They walked in companionable silence for a moment, the bustle of the village flowing around them. Naruto found himself hyperaware of her presence beside him—the subtle floral scent that clung to her clothes, the graceful confidence in her movements, the occasional brush of her arm against his that sent inexplicable electricity through his nervous system.

"So," he ventured finally. "How's your training been going? The medical techniques?"

Ino's face lit up with genuine enthusiasm. "Amazing! I've completed the basic curriculum in half the standard time. The instructors weren't sure about combining medical jutsu with active combat at first, but after I demonstrated a prototype technique that alternates between offensive mind disruption and targeted healing..." She trailed off, suddenly self-conscious about her excited rambling. "Sorry. I get carried away talking about it."

"Don't apologize," Naruto urged, fascinated by this glimpse of passion beneath her typically controlled exterior. "It sounds incredible. I want to hear more."

She studied him for a moment, as if checking for sincerity, then launched into a detailed explanation of her developing techniques. Naruto listened with rapt attention, understanding perhaps two-thirds of the medical terminology but completely captivated by the animated way she described chakra pathways and neural interference patterns.

"...and now Tsunade-sama wants to assess me personally!" she concluded, still processing the unexpected honor. "I never thought—I mean, she's a legend, the greatest medical ninja in history!"

"You impressed her," Naruto stated with absolute certainty. "And Tsunade doesn't impress easily, believe me."

Ino's cheeks colored slightly at the praise. "We'll see. I still have a long way to go."

They had reached the central administrative district, where Tsunade and Jiraiya had already disappeared into the Hokage Tower for official proceedings. The streets buzzed with energy—news of the Fifth Hokage's arrival spreading through the village like wildfire, bringing renewed hope to a population still recovering from invasion and loss.

"I should probably report to the hospital," Naruto sighed reluctantly. "Tsunade made me promise to get a full checkup once we arrived, or she threatened to drag me there herself."

"Smart woman," Ino approved. "Those muscle reconnections need proper monitoring." At his surprised look, she shrugged. "Medical texts. I've been studying combat injuries extensively."

"Well, since you're the expert..." Naruto grinned, struck by sudden inspiration. "Would you mind accompanying me? You know, for professional observation. Seeing how Tsunade's healing techniques are progressing in a real patient."

Ino arched an eyebrow, seeing through the transparent excuse immediately. "Professional observation," she repeated, lips twitching with suppressed amusement.

"Absolutely," he nodded solemnly. "Purely educational. For your medical training."

"Of course." She matched his serious tone with remarkable composure, though laughter danced in her eyes. "How could I pass up such a valuable learning opportunity?"

As they changed direction toward the hospital, walking close enough that their hands occasionally brushed, Naruto felt a profound sense of rightness settle in his chest. The mission had been completed—Tsunade brought back to lead the village into its next chapter. But somehow, walking beside Ino through the streets of their recovering home felt like the true success of his journey.

"By the way," he said as they approached the hospital's main entrance. "I believe I was promised a training session. Something about chakra visualization techniques?"

Ino's smile brightened, genuine pleasure replacing her teasing expression. "I remember. Tomorrow morning, training ground fifteen. Don't be late."

"It's a date," he replied, deliberately echoing her parting words from weeks earlier.

This time, neither of them corrected the terminology or tried to qualify it as something else. The word hung between them, acknowledged and accepted, a promise of something new beginning to take shape in the quiet spaces between heartbeats.