Next up was Menma, who strutted through the crowd, earning squeals of delight from his fangirls. Naruto's eyes found Kushina, standing beside her husband while slamming her fist into Jiraiya's skull. The old pervert hit the ground with a resounding thud. As usual, he'd probably said something stupid that ticked off the mother hen.
Naruto blinked in disbelief, watching the fox boy fumble around the ring like a drunk toad trying to breakdance. His stance was all over the place. That's what happened when your ego grew bigger than your skill—Menma was all bark, no bite.
Naruto bit back a snort when he caught sight of Minato and Jiraiya's embarrassed faces. Menma spent more time talking about his greatness than actually training to live up to it.
The joke of a match ended when Menma overextended on a wild punch. Mizuki, unimpressed, slid past it and delivered a clean shot to Menma's gut. The idiot crumpled to the floor, wheezing and clutching his stomach, glaring up at Mizuki like he'd been cheated. The whole fight hadn't even lasted a minute.
Iruka helped Menma to his feet and guided him toward the med tent, where a harried healer tended to the collection of students who'd gotten their asses handed to them.
As usual, Menma's fangirls lost their collective minds. They hurled insults at Mizuki for daring to hurt their "precious savior," while the instructor's left eye twitched in annoyance. Still, he wisely ignored them.
"Mito Namikaze-Uzumaki!" Iruka shouted over the crowd.
Mito walked to the ring with her usual confident swagger. Her fighting style had Kushina's fingerprints all over it—sharp, fluid, and deliberate. Whirlpool-style footwork, reinforced punches, and efficient chakra control. She even flashed a grin back at her mother, who beamed with pride. Her fight lasted the full two minutes. When the bell rang, she stood firm in the center of the ring, barely winded.
"Naruto Namikaze-Uzumaki," Iruka called out next.
Naruto groaned under his breath and started toward the ring, tuning out the chorus of monkey screeches coming from the peanut gallery.
"Good luck, dope," Sasuke drawled with a smirk. "You'll need it."
Naruto didn't bother with a comeback. He had no time or energy for Uchiha drama. Sasuke was a walking contradiction—a superiority complex fueled by his clan name, and an inferiority complex festering in the shadow of his brother's betrayal.
Naruto stepped into the ring and faced Mizuki, who wore a smug grin.
"Well, Naruto," the man sneered. "Let's see what a disgrace can do, shall we?"
Naruto raised an eyebrow and stretched his legs with an easy, confident motion. "Really, sensei? At least I'm not a washed-up Chūnin teaching brats because he didn't have the strength to make a name for himself."
A few students in the crowd let out a loud "Ooooooh!"
Mizuki's smile turned venomous. His chakra spiked, thick with killing intent. Naruto narrowed his eyes. He wasn't stupid—he could feel it. Mizuki wasn't holding back like he had with the others. If Naruto didn't take this seriously, he'd leave in pieces.
"Hajime!" Iruka called out. The crowd erupted, some cheering for Naruto's downfall like they were at a coliseum.
Mizuki charged, faster than he had with anyone else. Naruto didn't flinch.
With a subtle pulse from the Reality Stone, he activated his Mutengan. The stone's power kept his eyes hidden from the world, similar to a genjutsu. However, the illusion couldn't be broken since it didn't rely on chakra. The strange multi-colored eyes sparked to life, not because he needed them, but because learning his opponent's moves in real-time? That was smart.
The world around him slowed.
Mizuki's fist shot toward his face. Naruto slapped it aside with casual precision, shocking the instructor. He stayed defensive, light on his feet, his movements fluid and tight. Every block, dodge, and redirect drew more gasps from the crowd. The people who expected Naruto to get flattened were starting to lean forward.
Naruto's fighting style was an odd blend—Senju grace, Uzumaki ferocity, and Namikaze speed. He hit fast, flowed between counters, and turned enemy momentum against them. Acrobatic flips and spins gave him unpredictable angles.
He back flipped over a low sweep and came down with a sharp kick to Mizuki's chin. The instructor staggered, stunned, rubbing his bruised jaw. His face twisted in rage. Mizuki charged again, faster now, trading a series of punches and kicks with Naruto. They clashed in a blur of movement. Naruto's muscles burned, and his arm went a little numb from one of the blocks, but he was keeping up.
They jumped apart.
Mizuki glared, panting slightly. "It seems you're not as incompetent as I thought..." he sneered. "But you're still a waste of space. No wonder your family—"
The tomoe in Naruto's eyes spun rapidly. His jaw clenched. They won't leave me the fuck alone. Why can't they just shut up about them?!
Naruto dropped into a low stance. His chakra surged. Before Mizuki could react, Naruto vanished in a flicker of motion. He reappeared right in front of Mizuki and drove his elbow into the man's gut. Mizuki doubled over with a wheeze, the air blasted from his lungs. Spit flew from his mouth, his eyes bulging in pain.
Naruto didn't stop.
He spun and delivered a savage donkey kick under Mizuki's chin, sending him airborne. Then Naruto disappeared again, reappearing above the instructor mid-air, chakra coiling around his limbs.
"Good night, sensei!" His boot slammed into Mizuki's face with a brutal crack.
The man hit the dirt like a falling meteor, dust and debris flying everywhere. When the air cleared, Mizuki was sprawled in a shallow crater, limbs twitching, face swollen.
For a long, frozen second—no one said a word.
Then the bell rang. Ding.
"G-Good job, Naruto," Iruka stuttered, blinking like he couldn't believe what he just saw. "Naruto Namikaze-Uzumaki is the winner."
But no one clapped. They just stared at him—wide-eyed, stunned, like the world had tilted sideways. Because a student had just wiped the floor with a Chūnin instructor.
And that student... was Naruto.
Naruto glared down at Mizuki, the instructor still groaning in a crater of his own making.
"Next time, sensei," he said coolly, voice carrying over the stunned silence, "don't insult your opponent while you're still facing them. Overconfidence gets you killed."
He slipped his hands into his pants pockets, shoulders loose but his eyes sharp.
"And another thing... I don't give a shit about my clan. So get better insults while you're at it."
Gasps rippled through the crowd again, but Naruto didn't care. He turned and walked toward the steps leading off the fighting ring—only to halt when a familiar, self-important voice rang out behind him.
"How dare you insult the Namikaze and Uzumaki clans, you insolent whelp!"
Naruto sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, dragging it slowly. Of course it had to be him.
Hando Namikaze's ego was bigger than the Hokage Monument. The man was practically vibrating with outrage. "Show some respect!" Hando bellowed from the stands, face twisting with righteous fury.
Naruto's eyes hardened, his gaze turning as cold as steel as he looked back at the floundering man. "I'd rather show the Nine-Tailed Fox respect than the likes of you."
More gasps. A hush fell over the arena like a blanket of ice. Students stared at him as if he'd revealed an S-class secret. Hando's face turned crimson with fury, lips twitching like he wanted to leap into the ring himself.
"That's enough, Naruto!" Minato's voice cut through the tension as he stepped forward. The Jonin's blue eyes narrowed, mirroring Naruto's own. "When we get home, we'll have a long discussion about your atrocious behavior."
Naruto's ears rang, not from Minato's words, but from the quiet snickers of Menma and Mito behind him. Their father scolding him was apparently the funniest thing they'd seen all day.
His blood boiled. His fists clenched so tightly at his sides, his nails dug into his palms. He barely noticed the small trails of blood beginning to drip. The gall of this man. All he ever cared about was the clan's reputation. Nothing had changed. Nothing would change.
A soft hum of energy whispered beside him. Vision's astral form floated just above the ground, his expression a calm, controlled mask.
"Naruto," he said gently. "There's no use exasperating the situation. Fighting with your family—"
"They're not my family!" Naruto mentally shouted. "They've never been!" He could feel the heat building behind his eyes, and he hated it. He refused to cry. Not in front of them. Not again. "I'm so sick and tired of them. This day cannot end fast enough."
Then came the cherry on top—the voice that made his skin crawl.
"Ah, look," Menma taunted, folding his arms with that same insufferable grin. "Little Naruto's shaking like a pussycat. Afraid of father caning you again?"
Naruto froze. He remembered.
He was six. He'd wanted to join the family trip to the Fire Capital. His siblings had been allowed to go, but he wasn't. He threw a tantrum, like any heartbroken child might, hoping they'd listen—hoping they'd care. Minato didn't yell. He caned him. Not a slap. Not a lecture. A cane.
And when they left, Naruto had been grounded. Alone. Hurt. Forgotten.
Minato had never raised a hand to the "golden twins." Only to him. And that was the moment something in him had snapped.
"Menma," Naruto said, voice low, shaking with fury, "with all that's holy... go fuck yourself."
A chorus of shocked gasps erupted.
"And as for you, Minato?" Naruto continued, turning to face the man he used to call father. "I don't give a fuck about you or your clan. So take your little sermons and shove them as deep as they can go. I'm done. With all of you."
The shock that erupted on his family's faces was almost satisfying. Mito paled. Menma's grin faltered. Minato looked as if Naruto had struck him. Kushina's lips parted, but no words came out.
Naruto could feel his vision blurring—his body trembling not with fear, but exhaustion. Rage. Heartache.
Before anyone could recover, a sharp bolt of lightning cracked the air. Naruto vanished in a flash of raw chakra. He reappeared on the roof of the Academy, staring down at the gaping crowd below. His breath came in harsh bursts. He clenched his jaw, forcing the tears to stay where they were.
Far below, the Hokage's sharp eyes locked onto him—eyes that, for once, weren't soft. They were furious.
"Minato," Hiruzen said, stepping forward, voice like cold steel, "leave the boy. You've done enough damage for one day." Minato opened his mouth—but the Third Hokage's glare stopped him cold. "We'll continue with the rest of the test," Hiruzen continued. "Iruka. Proceed."
The tension lingered like a cloud that refused to lift. But for Naruto? For once... he felt light. Heavy-hearted, yes. Wounded, absolutely. But light. He was done playing nice.