Chapter 13: The Serpent's Visit and a Sealed Fate
The evening was quiet, broken only by the soft slurping sounds coming from Naruto's small apartment. He was hunched over a steaming cup of instant noodles, the simple meal a testament to his perpetually strained finances. As he brought the cup to his lips, a knock echoed through the quiet room—firm, yet oddly tentative.
Naruto paused, his senses immediately sharpening. He didn't need to open the door to feel the chakra signature on the other side. It was familiar, from the academy, but not one he knew well. There was a slipperiness to its feel that he'd never liked.
'Mizuki?' he thought, his brow furrowing. 'What could he possibly want?'
Curiosity piqued, he padded to the door and peered through the peephole. Sure enough, the silver-haired chunin instructor stood there, a practiced, friendly smile plastered on his face. Naruto's internal alarms rang softly. If he were the naive boy he once was, that smile might have fooled him.
With a quiet click, he opened the door. "Mizuki-sensei," he acknowledged, his voice flat.
"Naruto, my boy! Good evening!" Mizuki's greeting was overly bright, oozing a false warmth that made Naruto's skin crawl. Had he been his old self, he might have swelled with pride at the attention from a teacher. Now, he just felt wary.
Naruto said nothing, his blue eyes simply watching, waiting for the man to reveal his hand.
Mizuki's smile became strained. He coughed lightly, feigning embarrassment. "Naruto, I've come to discuss something of great importance. Perhaps... we could speak inside?"
Naruto continued to stare, his gaze unnervingly direct. After a long, silent moment that seemed to stretch Mizuki's nerves taut, Naruto finally stepped back, swinging the door open wider. "Come in."
A triumphant, dark gleam flashed in Mizuki's eyes before he could mask it. He swept past Naruto into the sparsely furnished room, his eyes taking a quick, dismissive inventory.
"Naruto," Mizuki began, cutting straight to the chase now that the door was closed. "Have you ever heard of the Forbidden Scroll of Seals?"
Naruto, who had returned to his small table to finish his noodles, didn't even look up. "No," he lied casually. He knew of it, of course—a repository of kinjutsu, techniques too dangerous for common use. But he had no intention of getting involved with it. He wasn't that stupid.
Mizuki's smile widened. Perfect. "The Scroll of Seals," he explained, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "contains powerful, legendary ninjutsu. Any shinobi who masters even a single technique from it would rise far above their peers." He paused, letting the promise of power hang in the air. "While you have graduated, your scores are... average. This could be your chance to truly stand out!"
Naruto slurped down the last of his broth and set the cup aside. "What's your point?" he asked, his tone utterly bored.
Mizuki faltered. The boy's cold indifference was unnerving. A sliver of doubt, cold and sharp, pricked at his confidence. 'What's wrong with him? Why do I suddenly feel like I'm the one in danger here?'
He took a steadying breath, reforging his friendly mask. "I'm suggesting you... acquire the scroll. With its knowledge, you could far surpass everyone in your graduating class!"
Naruto finally stood, his movements languid. He picked up his empty cup and walked towards the kitchen sink. "Not interested."
Mizuki was stunned into silence. "Not... interested? But why? Don't you desire strength? Don't you want to prove yourself?"
Naruto didn't answer. The only sound was the running water as he began washing his cup. "If that's all," he said over his shoulder, his voice dismissive, "you can see yourself out."
Mizuki stared at Naruto's back, his friendly facade crumbling into a mask of pure fury. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. 'When did this demon fox become so shrewd? Last I taught him, he was a gullible, desperate fool!'
Then, Iruka's words from weeks prior echoed in his mind: 'Naruto's improved so much this year.' The improvement had started before Kakashi's involvement. A new, greedy thought bloomed. 'Could he have already stumbled upon some other source of power? Some other secret?'
The risk assessment warred within him. Attacking Naruto now was a gamble. If the boy had no useful secrets, Mizuki would lose everything—his position in Konoha, his freedom, and any chance of ever getting his hands on the Scroll. The potential reward was not worth the catastrophic cost.
"Forget I mentioned it, then," Mizuki finally said, his voice tight. "I'll be going."
Naruto's only response was a noncommittal grunt. "Close the door on your way out."
Boom!
The door slammed shut with enough force to rattle the frame. Mizuki stood in the dim hallway, his face a thundercloud of suppressed rage. 'That wretched beast!' he seethed internally. But he was a patient man. He would bide his time.
As Naruto had predicted, Mizuki's greed ultimately outweighed his caution. Half a month later, under the cover of a moonless night, he made his move. Slipping past the outer guards, he infiltrated the Hokage Tower, his target clear.
He never even laid eyes on the Scroll.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold of the secure archive, a dozen ANBU operatives materialized from the shadows, their movements silent and lethally efficient. He was subdued, bound, and dragged away before he could even form a hand seal.
Interrogation under Morino Ibiki was a swift and brutal affair. Mizuki, broken and terrified, confessed to everything—his intentions for the Scroll, his resentment, his planned betrayal.
News of his arrest and subsequent life sentence in Konoha's maximum-security prison spread quickly through the shinobi ranks.
When Naruto heard, he couldn't help but let out a soft, dry chuckle. He raised his cup of instant noodles in a silent, sarcastic toast to the memory of the boy he once was.
'Well,' he thought, 'some fates, it seems, are set in stone.'
(End of Chapter)