By the stream, after a few quick tests, Kakashi already had a preliminary judgment about Naruto's potential.
"Naruto, before learning any ninjutsu, you need to learn how to climb trees."
"Climb… trees?" Naruto blinked in confusion, his bright blue eyes wide. "Why? Is climbing trees some kind of amazing secret ninjutsu too?"
Kakashi let out a rare chuckle and shook his head. "Not quite. This isn't ordinary tree climbing. You'll be using your chakra to walk up the trunk. It's a foundational exercise that sharpens chakra control. Once you master it, learning real ninjutsu will become much easier."
The boy's face lit up in sudden understanding. He clenched his tiny fists, determination blazing in his eyes. "So that's it! Then I'll do it right away, Kakashi-nii!"
Kakashi patiently explained the key points of chakra concentration—how to channel energy into the soles of one's feet, how to maintain balance, how to adjust the flow when the grip faltered. Naruto nodded with exaggerated seriousness, listening to every word.
Almost immediately, he flung himself at the challenge, dashing to the nearest tree and planting his foot against the bark.
Kakashi expected repeated failures, frustration, even tantrums. Yet, much to his quiet surprise, Naruto's progress was smoother than usual. Perhaps it was because of his own presence, or perhaps because the Nine-Tails inside the boy was uncharacteristically silent. For once, the beast's chakra didn't trip Naruto's efforts.
Within an hour, Naruto was already scrambling halfway up the tree, tumbling back down with a grin before running up again, each attempt steadier than the last.
Kakashi, standing nearby with his hands in his pockets, narrowed his eye thoughtfully. His talent… it isn't as hopeless as I imagined. Especially with the Nine-Tails behaving like this.
In the temporary Hokage office far away, Hiruzen Sarutobi observed the scene through his crystal ball. His wrinkled features softened as he watched the boy's earnest effort. But soon, his attention shifted. Kakashi, who had been instructing Naruto moments ago, had suddenly gone quiet. He now sat cross-legged by the stream, his eye closed, lost in thought.
The Third Hokage leaned closer to the ball. He could tell Kakashi was calculating something.
And indeed, by the stream, Kakashi's mind was deep at work. He replayed Naruto's progress, weighing the child's stubborn persistence against the dangerous potential of the Nine-Tails sealed within him. The boy doesn't lack drive… what he needs is a method tailored to him, something that harnesses his enthusiasm while strengthening his control. If he can shape chakra like this, perhaps…
A flash of inspiration struck. Kakashi slowly opened his eye, rose to his feet, and gazed at the calm lake before him.
"Naruto," he said with a faint smile, "you've done well with the tree climbing. Now it's time I show you something more suited for you."
Naruto's eyes widened. "Really? That's great!"
Without further explanation, Kakashi stepped onto the lake's surface. His sandal soles rippled the water but did not sink. He lifted his fist, and with a low hum of chakra, a pale whirlwind wrapped around it, the air whistling softly.
Naruto's jaw dropped. "Whoa! Kakashi-nii, what is that? It's so cool!"
"This," Kakashi replied calmly, "is a basic nin-taijutsu I devised. It combines Wind Release chakra with simple strikes. With your current control, it's the perfect next step. If you can master this, you'll learn how to focus your energy in battle instead of wasting it."
"Wind Release…? Nin-taijutsu?" Naruto repeated clumsily, but his face lit with fiery determination. "Then hurry and teach me!"
And so, Kakashi began his patient instruction. At first, Naruto's attempts were sloppy—his chakra wavered, dispersing before it could form a vortex. But Kakashi corrected his stance, guided his breathing, and demonstrated again and again. Naruto, stubborn as ever, refused to give up.
Finally, after dozens of failed tries, a faint whirlwind flickered to life around Naruto's tiny fist. He gasped, staring at it with childlike wonder before shouting in triumph. His grin was brighter than the sunset behind him.
Watching from the crystal ball, Hiruzen's eyes glistened. Relief, pride, and a bittersweet ache welled inside him as he whispered:
"Kakashi… you truly didn't disappoint me."
At the Fire Temple, the sun sank below the horizon, painting the halls in gold and crimson, as if the ancient stones themselves had been wrapped in a divine halo.
Outside the temple gates, Asuma stood with Chiriku, carrying out the final handover on Konoha's behalf. The Daimyō's Mansion's supplies had been fully cleared out, and the most urgent task now was to escort these precious materials safely back to the village.
Chiriku, clad in his simple monk robes, checked over the lists with patient diligence.
"I'll arrange what remains here myself," the monk said calmly. "Once the temple's offerings are inventoried and secured, I'll return to Konoha as quickly as I can."
Asuma nodded, studying his old comrade. "You've worked hard, Chiriku. But the Fire Temple's records… sorting them will take time, won't it?"
"Indeed." A faint shadow crossed the monk's face. "The temple has fallen into decline these past years. In truth, I may be the only true monk left here now."
The others within these walls were not genuine followers of the old faith, but Anbu disguised as monks, placed here quietly by the village.
"There's no helping it," Asuma muttered with a sigh. "The shinobi world edges closer to catastrophe. At a time like this, anything is possible. Please… watch yourself."
Chiriku pressed his palms together, serene despite the warning. "Your concern is noted. Among the temple's donations lie many valuables that cannot be easily liquidated. Dealing with them will take time, but I will handle it."
Asuma was about to reply when a sudden flare of light interrupted them.
Not far away, a teleportation array etched into the earth lit up with dazzling brilliance, rippling with faint spatial distortion. Slowly, a figure emerged from the shifting glow.
It was his elder brother, Sarutobi Shinnōsuke.
To prepare for the looming disaster, Tobirama Senju himself had devised this unique Flying Thunder God scroll-array. Based on the Reverse Summoning Technique, it allowed instant transport of men and supplies across the Land of Fire, stitching together a new web of control. Already, Konoha's reach within its borders had grown swifter, more efficient than ever.
"Big brother!" Asuma's face broke into a rare smile. He hurried forward and clasped Shinnōsuke in a firm embrace.
Shinnōsuke returned the gesture with a small smile. "Asuma… you've done well these past days."
Their reunion was brief. Soon, Shinnōsuke's eyes were drawn to the Fire Temple itself.
The ancient complex stood tall and solemn, its walls worn and mottled, its tiles dulled by centuries. Yet to Shinnōsuke's gaze, it radiated more than history.
An inexplicable heaviness pressed against his chest. His heartbeat quickened, as though drawn into rhythm with some hidden pulse echoing deep within the temple.
He felt it clearly—something was calling to him.
It was subtle yet undeniable, gentle but chilling, familiar and strange all at once. A current of power lay hidden in the temple's depths, threading through time and space, whispering as though it had been waiting patiently for him.
Images flickered at the edge of his mind—fragmented, disjointed memories not his own.
"…The Fire Temple…" Shinnōsuke muttered under his breath.
Asuma glanced at him curiously. "Yes, this is the Fire Temple. What's wrong?"
Shinnōsuke did not answer immediately. Instead, his eyes slid toward Chiriku, who stood silently nearby, his monk's composure never wavering.
Finally, Shinnōsuke spoke, his tone low and measured.
"Master Chiriku… I recall that six years ago, there was a grave incident here. Most of the temple's monks perished, didn't they?"
The question struck like a thrown kunai. Chiriku's calm expression faltered, replaced by brief astonishment. His gaze lowered, sorrow clouding his features.
"…It is as you say," he admitted at last. "Six years ago, a tragedy occurred. I was on assignment at the Daimyō's Mansion at the time. By the time I returned, it was already too late. Nearly all of my brethren here had… fallen."
He shook his head slightly, the weight of old regret pressing upon him. "To this day, I still do not know what truly happened that night."
Asuma frowned. "Big brother, why are you suddenly asking about this?"
Shinnōsuke's eyes darkened. He lowered his gaze, his voice carrying both unease and conviction.
"Because… the moment I stepped into these grounds, I sensed a chakra fluctuation. It was faint, but unmistakable. Familiar, like the Sharingan."
"Sharingan?"
Asuma stiffened, his expression hardening into shock and confusion.
His brother's words carried an ominous weight.
Never before had Shinnōsuke claimed such a perception—much less of that cursed eye.