When the teacher announced the winner, Kakashi headed off the field. He glanced back once—Naraku stood frozen in place, head bowed, eyes dull as dead glass under the shadows.
[Somebody save him already, the kid can't take much more.]
[Is this his villain origin story? Evil Uchiha unlocked~]
The scene shifted. Dusk painted the sky.
Kakashi had stayed out training a little longer before heading home. Passing the river, he spotted Naraku sitting on the slope of grass. The injuries looked bad enough to make him pause, unsure if he should approach.
[Thank you animators, we finally get a clear shot of Naraku's face.]
[Swollen like that, he might end up crippled.]
[What are you waiting for, Kakashi, go help him already!]
Before he could move, three Uchiha boys showed up, circling Naraku with sneers sharp as knives.
Naraku didn't even raise a hand. He just shut his eyes, bracing for the beating.
[Here they come—the classic background bullies.]
[Don't you dare lay a hand on Naraku!]
[He gets abused at home, and outside he's still bullied for his father's trash rep. Unfair.]
[Why does he even care what that bastard dad thinks anymore?]
[Kid's brainwashed, no doubt.]
[Why isn't he fighting back?! Hit them, dude!]
[Those brats clearly have clan backing. Naraku can't afford to piss them off.]
But the fists never landed. The three punks scrambled away after spitting a few threats. Naraku followed the shadow across the grass—Kakashi stood behind them, blade already sheathed, white hair glowing gold in the backlit sun. The shot was breathtaking, frame-worthy.
That image burned into Naraku's eyes and stayed there.
A close-up on Naraku's gaze, and then the angle shifted again.
The riverbank stretched wide across the screen. Kakashi and Naraku faced each other, one standing, one sitting. Kakashi tilted his head slightly down, eyes edged with concern. Naraku, still on the ground, stared back in quiet surprise.
Sunlight spilled from the left, as if Kakashi had dragged that glow into Naraku's darkness.
[Classic hero-saves-damsel scene]
[God, that's hot.]
[So beautiful. The symbolism's killing me.]
[How are fic writers supposed to compete with this art?!]
[The animator's still got it.]
[Screenshots now, idiots!]
[Kakashi: everyone deserves their own Uchiha.]
[You're doomed, boy. You've fallen in love.]
[Funny how Minato saves girls, Kakashi saves boys (lmao).]
[Hey, don't box characters into genders like that.]
[Shippers, can you keep it in your corner, please?]
Episode five cut there. Episode six would probably pick up right from this.
Naraku frowned. The Animator's keeping pace this closely?
[Traveler, don't worry. Time flows differently between worlds. The ratio isn't stable. Sometimes one day here equals ten episodes there. Sometimes three years here equal less than a day there.]
"So it depends on how the Animator edits things," Naraku muttered to the system.
He pieced it together: when something worth adapting happened, the Animator could stretch it into multiple episodes, making time fly on the other side. But when nothing valuable occurred, the Animator might just skip or condense it, leaving long gaps here but barely any time passed there.
[Your understanding is correct.]
Naraku nodded. From what episode five showed, his screen time was decent. The Animator clearly thought his current story fit well alongside Kakashi's arc, hence all the shots.
Not bad. Episode six should give me even more focus. That means my first batch of Popularity Points is on the way. Time to start shopping in the system store.
He clicked play.
Episode six picked up where the bullies ran off. Though embarrassed, Naraku still managed a quiet thank-you.
Kakashi blinked but didn't comment, only warning that his injured wrist needed proper treatment or it'd never heal.
The camera zoomed close on Naraku's face—awkward, lost, eyes shimmering with moisture.
"My house… doesn't have medicine."
[Holy shit, an Uchiha said thank you?!]
[Naraku's so kind, even while suffering this much.]
[Kakashi's so warm, just like Sakumo.]
[Is he about to cry?]
[Not even his father's beating made him cry, but this might.]
[Stop it, I'm tearing up. Naraku's too pitiful.]
[Daily question: why isn't Shinji Uchiha dead yet?]
Kakashi didn't leave him there. He brought Naraku home, pulled out ointment, and gestured for him to sit. Lifting his shirt revealed a mess of bruises. Kakashi frowned and told him to take it off entirely.
Naraku stiffened, pride bristling. But he obeyed.
[He brought him home. Kakashi, you sly dog.]
[Kakashi: lemme seeeee!]
[God, there's not a single patch of uninjured skin.]
[Hurts just looking at him. And he still goes to spar like this.]
[Baby boy. Forget Uchiha, he's mine now.]
Kakashi muttered that this had gone way too far. Naraku rushed to cover, insisting he'd just fallen.
Viewers face-palmed as Kakashi misread it completely, assuming Uchiha pride kept him from admitting extra training after school. Kakashi even rolled his eyes.
[What the hell, Kakashi?!]
[Steel-brained training addict. Unbelievable.]
[Biggest straight boy move ever. You don't even know where those bruises came from.]
[And Naraku still covering for his trash dad… wake up, kid! That's not training!]
On screen, the quiet Uchiha boy stared blankly, watching as Kakashi carefully wrapped bandages around him.
His inner voice whispered:
The ointment feels warm. The pain's fading.
No one's ever treated me this kindly before.
If only… I could be Kakashi's friend.
[I'M CRYING. FULL ON CRYING.]
[Shinji Uchiha, burn in hell!]
[Say yes, Kakashi! Be his friend!]
[They're bonded for life now.]
[Locked and sealed. Key's gone.]
When the wrapping was done, Kakashi invited Naraku to stay for dinner.
Together, the two boys cooked and ate in the little kitchen, steam rising under the warm lights, the air strangely peaceful.
[Already cooking together—Naraku's perfect house-husband material.]
[Chill, guys. They're still elementary school age!]
[Still, what a cozy scene.]
[Naraku probably hasn't had a real dinner in ages.]
[Look at him. His arm with the bandages is barely as thick as Kakashi's.]
[Don't say it—he'll just get beaten again when he goes home.]