"Once again, you have failed..."
"You are the shame of Konoha, for not bringing back Uchiha-sama!"
"How could Sandaime-sama ever have allowed you to become a ninja... You disgrace our village!"
"You promised, Naruto! You promised you'd bring Sasuke-kun back… You're nothing but a liar, a dobe, as always!"
Naruto looked around at the buildings of the town he had just entered with Jiraiya. Like most of the villages or towns he had visited recently in the Land of Fire with his master, the houses and buildings—made of wood but mostly concrete—were built in a distinctly Western style, rising several stories high with balconies and flat roofs. The streets were dug out and covered with dry earth, more or less populated. The small town lived cheerfully. The young boy silently observed the passersby strolling or working, as well as the people at their windows hanging laundry. It was calm and pleasant. It had been just over a week now since Jiraiya had taken Naruto on his training journey, leaving Konoha for a long period of time…
"So… What are we going to do here, Ero-sennin?" Naruto asked in a calm yet curious tone—after all, he wondered what the reason for being here was.
He looked up at the tall man walking at his side. Jiraiya was indeed very tall. At more than one meter ninety, he was the tallest man Naruto had ever seen. The average height was far smaller, about thirty centimeters less. Jiraiya was especially recognizable in the ninja world for his long, thick white hair tied behind his back, the short red haori he wore over a green vest, and the amusing pair of geta on his feet that gave him the look of an old, jovial traveler—which, of course, he was. Jiraiya frowned at his young student. "What did I say about not calling me that, Gaki?!"
"You'll have my respect when I judge you've earned it. So far, the only thing you've done apart from walking is visiting brothels along the way," Uzumaki retorted with the same calm tone.
Jiraiya didn't respond, simply watching him with interest. The boy was strange—or rather, had become strange since they'd left the Hidden Leaf Village, Konohagakure. The moment they crossed the gates, the loudmouthed child he once knew had turned into this unnervingly calm boy. Really calm… In any case, Naruto was no longer the fiery, carefree ninja he had met before the Chunin Exams. In fact, the child had barely spoken since leaving the Leaf… It was rare for him to say even ten words a day, unless forced into conversation—which, of course, never lasted long. When Jiraiya took the time to observe him while walking along the roads, Naruto stared at the scenery or the path ahead with an absent gaze, as if lost in deep, profound thoughts… The old sage didn't know what troubled his pupil, but eventually, he would find out.
"All right…" sighed the Toad Hermit. "We're here so I can meet one of my intelligence contacts. After that, I'll make sure we begin your training, okay?"
Naruto nodded, tearing his gaze away from the old man. "All right," he answered.
Jiraiya frowned at the lack of enthusiasm from his young student, but, determined to get his informant's news, he left him alone there.
Naruto then wandered through the streets, not really caring where he was going. He had been thinking a lot lately about what had happened in his life and how he had neglected many things. How he had never truly taken his training seriously. At the academy, especially, where he ignored every lesson, preferring to worry about how people saw him and whether they would accept him. But the other side of the problem was that, despite having teachers who sabotaged his progress daily, when he finally had a real teacher like Iruka, he had already sunk so deep into his troublemaking habits that he ignored the opportunity he'd been given. This lack of seriousness in his ninja life had only made him more naïve about the ninja world, and indirectly contributed to the failure of the mission to retrieve Sasuke.
Another of his problems was Sasuke Uchiha… The very boy Naruto had considered a brother. He had always thought that despite their rivalry, they would remain friends. But that belief had been shattered when Sasuke pierced his chest twice with a Chidori, intending to kill him. After that, Naruto didn't know if he could still keep the promise he had made to Sakura… And to be honest, he no longer wanted to. He even doubted Sasuke would ever want to return to Konoha, even if Naruto managed to drag him back by force. To him, Team 7 had ended the moment Sasuke deserted—if it had ever truly existed at all. He had been naïve to think Kakashi was a good sensei when he had so clearly abandoned him and Sakura for Sasuke. And Sakura… Naruto preferred not to think about her. When she had yelled at him after his failure to bring Sasuke back… she had closed the door on their friendship forever. He had left with Jiraiya without seeing them again, without saying goodbye to anyone. He had neither the desire nor the strength.
Shaking his head, Naruto pushed aside those dark thoughts. Sasuke's defection had made one thing painfully clear. He was weak. Weak in everything. In determination, in judgment, in ninjutsu, and in many aspects of being a ninja. It was a bitter conclusion, but one thing was certain: he needed to become stronger. Much stronger. He needed to become a shinobi—a true shinobi—not a loud fool incapable of acting and proving himself when it mattered, incapable of bringing back someone he considered a brother. Listing out his flaws, he realized with dismay that aside from the Kage Bunshin and the Rasengan, he was truly pathetic. In all the battles he had fought, even with those two techniques, he would have died without the Nine-Tails sealed within him. In the Land of Waves, on the bridge, he had only survived by using the Kyuubi against Haku. The same against Orochimaru in the Forest of Death, against Gaara, against Sasuke… or in countless other fights. And not only was he weak, but he couldn't even properly perform the Rasengan without relying on a shadow clone, his chakra control being far too poor. He had no real taijutsu skills, no fighting style, no tactical sense, charging head-on at his target without thought. Naruto knew he had a mountain of things to correct—or rather, to relearn.
Lifting his head to look around and see where his thoughts had carried him, the blond noticed he had reached a shop selling clothes and all sorts of equipment. Better yet, the merchants sold shinobi gear. Lowering his gaze again, he looked at his bright orange outfit… It had been with him for as long as he could remember, though he no longer wanted such clothes. Indeed, orange was still his favorite color, but that wasn't why he wore it. He wore it because he couldn't buy anything else. The reason was simple: everything else had been denied to him. In Konohagakure, people barely tolerated selling him the bare minimum. As a child, when he tried to buy clothes or food, he had often been rudely thrown out or presented with outrageous "special" prices meant only for him, forcing him to steal from time to time. If not for Ichiraku, the boy might have remained a thief just to survive and avoid starving. Even now, Naruto realized the depth of his foolishness. He could have gone to the Third Hokage, who might have fixed the problem… Or maybe not. Once again, he discovered the hidden side of people… Hiruzen Sarutobi, Hokage of Konoha. As such, he obviously knew the fate of his jinchūriki—of what was, despite what anyone said, the village's weapon. Deciding that he needed to become a proper shinobi, he would have to start by looking like one. He stepped into the shop.
The establishment wasn't very large compared to others, but it was well-stocked with many displays of clothing. It wasn't particularly impressive for most, but for Naruto, it was simply wonderful. Not the shop itself, but the fact that he could enter freely without being thrown out before even stepping in. Under the barely-interested gaze of the cashier, the boy walked into the aisles of shinobi gear. Silently, Naruto looked around, a small happy smile forming at the sight of clothes he could actually choose for himself… There were so many garments for different ninja needs, and a little farther, there were also tools and weapons—kunai, shuriken, ninja wire, even blank scrolls for basic, common fūinjutsu. It wasn't as varied as the shops of a hidden village, but it was more than enough to start.
Naruto wandered through the ninja section with a smile, calmly choosing what he needed. He knew he should pick dark-toned clothing to better fit infiltration and stealth. These two areas, despite what people thought, were ones where Naruto actually excelled—literally. Uzumaki Naruto, young genin, was someone who, when he wanted to, could slip past any ninja unnoticed, no matter their rank. In terms of speed of action and evasion, he was the best. His pranks proved it well. He could hide and escape in minutes, losing chunin, jonin, and even ANBU with ease. So, he chose several standard short ninja pants in dark blue, with sewn bandages around the left thigh and right calf. Then, a pair of black gloves with metal plates on the back—standard issue for Konoha shinobi. Next, a few thick pullovers, also dark blue, almost black this time, with a red spiral stitched on the left shoulder. To finish, he picked up a pair of black shinobi sandals to replace his worn-out blue ones. With his items in hand, he headed to the counter. He had no idea how instinctively close—identical, even—his choices were to those of a legendary ninja to whom he was unknowingly bound.
On the way, he grabbed a box of kunai, shuriken, and a small sealing scroll he would later use to store his new clothes. Arriving at the counter, he laid out his purchases under the surprised gaze of the vendor. The man was startled to see a boy, no more than fourteen, buying so much—and ninja gear, no less. When he spotted the Leaf forehead protector, it didn't take long to understand the boy really was a shinobi. The man wasn't very old, maybe around fifty given his build… and of course, he knew that while child soldiers were considered a crime and taboo by civilian governments across the peninsula, for ninja it was tolerated—even normal. So, although he was uneasy about selling weapons to a child, this child was still a soldier of the daimyo's army. He said nothing. "All right, kid, that'll be two thousand ryō!"
Naruto immediately pulled out his frog wallet, Gama-chan, and withdrew a stack of bills. Two thousand ryō was a hefty sum, but since he had only ever spent money on ramen before, Uzumaki had managed to save a decent amount… though it could disappear quickly thanks to his master's alcoholic whims and obsessive habits. After living in poverty, Naruto was one of the few his age who truly understood the importance of money—and the misery of having none.
"Excuse me, sir. Do you have a place where I can change?" Naruto asked politely, drawing the man's attention again.
"Of course, just over there," he said, pointing to the fitting rooms behind him.
Naruto nodded with a small smile. "Thank you," he said, heading for the booths.
"No problem, young man."
Inside, he happily slipped into the pants, then pulled the sweater over his black T-shirt, followed by the sandals and gloves. Looking at himself in the mirror, Naruto smiled his wide, foxy grin for the first time in ages. Because he saw himself—truly saw himself—and found he looked sharp in these clothes. Now, he felt he had taken his very first step toward a new, real career as a Konoha shinobi! He couldn't wait to see Jiraiya's reaction when he saw him dressed like this. Nodding in satisfaction, he sealed the rest of his purchases and his old orange outfit into the scroll, noting to himself that he'd dispose of it when he had the chance. He would miss orange, of course, but for now, he needed to focus on becoming a real ninja—agile and mature, in body and in mind. Orange could come later.
He left the shop and quickly created a shadow clone to inform Jiraiya he was nearby and planned to grab something to eat. Feeling at ease in his new clothes, he walked through the district until he came across a small, welcoming restaurant serving a variety of dishes. Smiling, Naruto entered, sat at a table, and looked over the menu handed to him by a waiter. He ordered the Waka-dori set—chicken with vegetables—and began to eat peacefully, discovering and rediscovering flavors that danced across his tongue… Everyone thought Naruto ate nothing but ramen. People assumed it was out of addiction. That was partly true. He loved ramen dearly and could eat endless amounts with joy, especially Ichiraku's. But the real reason his diet consisted solely of ramen was simply because it was all he could count on… Naruto couldn't eat at any other restaurant, either turned away at the door or indirectly causing businesses to shut down after losing customers—just for serving him. Ichiraku had been the exception, and Naruto now wondered why even they hadn't gone bankrupt, since he had been their only customer most of the time…
A few minutes later, as he ate, he suddenly received the memories of the clone he had sent to Jiraiya. With a sigh, he realized it was of Jiraiya laughing joyfully, a large cup of sake in hand, flanked by two scantily clad women giggling against him on a big couch in what was surely a brothel… The scene was so familiar, so repetitive, that Naruto only groaned in exasperation. No outrage—he was used to it. Still, he planned to ask Jiraiya about this strange phenomenon later… He had never experienced it before. Maybe it was because he had only ever used the technique in battle, too focused on survival to notice. As he ate, he began to think about what his training with the Sannin might include, the areas he had to improve, his strengths, his weaknesses… He had a lot to think through and list.
Distracted, he wondered when Jiraiya would show up—when, at that moment, the man walked into the restaurant. He sat at Naruto's table, ordered a bowl of ramen, and waited in silence, watching his student focus on his meal. It went without saying he was shocked, though he hid it under a mask of indifference. Uzumaki Naruto, his last student, now looked strikingly like his previous one—Minato Namikaze. That Naruto was Minato's son no longer seemed surprising… And without realizing it, Jiraiya saw his little Naruto beginning to walk in his father's footsteps. Even if only in appearance, it was enough to fill the Toad Sage's heart with pride. The bowl eventually arrived, and, lifting it in one hand with chopsticks in the other, the hermit began to eat. A few minutes later, raising his eyes from his bowl, the sage spoke: "We'll stay the night at an inn in this town. Tomorrow we leave early. We'll begin training before dawn, so rest today. No need for exercises."
Naruto nodded with a small smile, which again, in the Sannin's eyes, made him look even more like Minato. "Speaking of training… I noticed something earlier with my shadow clone," Naruto began, his expression confused.
"Haha! So you discovered the little secret of the Kage Bunshin, huh?" Jiraiya chuckled, smiling with pride at his student.
"You mean… you knew about it?" Naruto asked, surprised.
"Of course I knew, Gaki. I wanted to see if you'd figure it out on your own! Did you think the Shadow Clone Technique was just a B-rank forbidden jutsu for no reason? This technique can put its user's life at risk—you know that, right?" He watched Naruto nod. "Well, with great risk comes great reward! The more dangerous a jutsu, the greater its value."
Naruto looked at Jiraiya with curiosity, then spoke: "Do you think… I could use it to train?" His tone carried no confidence. Jiraiya stared at him thoughtfully, then smirked. "Well… It could work, indeed… You could learn in under a month what would normally take decades to master… Especially with the number of clones you can create, given your massive chakra reserves… But, there would certainly be some drawbacks to that method…"
"Oh yeah? What kind of drawbacks?"
For the next hour, while eating, Jiraiya explained the process of training with shadow clones, as well as all the drawbacks. But the advantages were so incredible that the method was like a forbidden fruit… For someone like Naruto, though, it was a perfectly viable method, given his resilience, willpower, and extraordinary endurance.