Ayato returned alone to his place at the end of the street. Every, he'd rented out every other house on the block and kept only the small corner lot for himself.
Like Naruto, he was an orphan, but the village treated them worlds apart. His tenants all knew he was Senju blood; even the villagers who didn't knew he owned a whole street and wasn't someone to mess with.
He flopped onto the lounge chair beside the giant tree in his little courtyard and let the memories roll.
He'd dropped into the Naruto world without warning. His "mom" here died the moment he was born; before he could even babble, his "dad" turned into the very tree shading him now.
Yeah, that tree.
Dad must've been part of some shady First Hokage cell experiment. Infant Ayato tried everything to stop him—scribbling on the floor, flailing—but he couldn't speak, couldn't write Japanese, and no one understood the warnings. Dad yeeted himself into photosynthesis anyway.
Then came the slow grind of growing up. When he was little, shady types tried to swindle his inheritance. He never fell for it, and eventually they stopped trying.
At first he'd toyed with the idea of helping the Uchiha, but years in Konoha soured that. The longer he watched their perpetual "you owe me money" faces, the less he cared. Let the plot run its course.
He and Naruto got along fine—both orphans. Ayato's version of bonding was occasionally treating Naruto to a full belly. He did the same for other classmates, so the higher-ups never batted an eye.
Sasuke's beef with him? Whatever.
Naruto and Sasuke both came with protagonist buffs. No matter how badly you treated Naruto, Asura's chakra guaranteed eventual forgiveness. Sasuke? Treat him like gold and he'd still sell you out the second it suited him—classic ungrateful lone-wolf trope.
Either way, Naruto's bond would forgive everyone in the end. Being a jerk now changed nothing.
Civilian status plus deliberate upper-level neglect meant zero ninjutsu access. Tsunade wasn't back yet, and no one would let a Senju kid near the clan scrolls. All he had were the academy's three basics—and he barely passed those.
Compared to the clan heirs, he was trash on paper. But in taijutsu? Top of the class. From day one he'd poured every spare second into physical conditioning.
He'd binged Shippuden. Sure, he didn't memorize every panel, but the pattern was clear: Early game—ninjutsu reigns. Mid-game—bloodlines and secret arts dominate. End-game against aliens—ninjutsu flops; everything circles back to taijutsu and sage arts.
Real power? The body. No sage mode yet, so body it was.
He skipped shuriken drills and jutsu practice, funneling every hour into training. Senju vitality + Kaguya bones = endless stamina. He grew like a glitch, leaving his peers in the dust.
"Ayato."
The courtyard gate was open. A random civilian chunin stood there, notebook in hand.
"Hm?"
"Starting tomorrow you can take missions—D-rank to start. You'll be auto-assigned two genin teammates and one chunin leader. Don't slack off." He spun on his heel and left; plenty more newbies to notify.
Fresh genin were eager; veteran chunin were jaded. Leading rookies meant easy pay for a few pointers—everyone won.
Ayato, though? He had zero interest. No one would force him, he wasn't broke, and titles meant squat. Chasing cats and walking dogs was a waste of training time.
Dinner o'clock. He rolled off the chair and headed for the ramen stand, planning a quick bowl before more reps.
At the entrance he spotted Naruto hovering, clutching his frog wallet, face twisted in budget agony. The bonding arc had already begun; that frog was for life.
"Yo, Naruto."
"Ayato! What're you doing here?" Naruto lit up at the familiar face.
"Eating. Duh." Ayato lifted the noren curtain.
"Ichiraku's the best ramen ever!" Naruto declared, but his feet stayed glued, eyes dripping envy.
Envy that Ayato could order freely while he had to penny-pinch.
"Come on, my treat." Ayato held the curtain.
"You sure? I feel bad…" Naruto fidgeted.
Ayato had covered every meal they'd shared. Naruto was long past embarrassed.
"Relax. You know I'm loaded." Routine stuff.
"Then I won't hold back! I'll treat you back someday, promise!" Naruto slid into the stool beside him.
"Cool. Once you're chunin, cash flows fast. I'll wait." Ayato flashed an easy grin.
"I'm gonna be Hokage! Fastest chunin promotion ever!" Naruto nodded hard.
Hokage's easy. Chunin? Good luck, Ayato thought.
Orders placed, small talk kicked in.
"What'd you do after teams were announced?"
"Introductions and stuff. Oh—I met Kakashi. Turns out he's our jonin."
Ayato nodded.
"You said Sasuke's brother could beat two Kakashis. For real?"
"Dunno. I was just roasting Sasuke. Kakashi's no slouch either."
"Huh? Sasuke straight-up called Kakashi-sensei weak today."
"Wait, what?" Ayato blinked. Sasuke's got guts. Hope Kakashi doesn't sabotage Chidori lessons.
"And then?"
"Kakashi ignored him. Told us to show up tomorrow for a test—fail and we're back to the academy."
"Eat up, then. You'll pass." Ayato slurped his noodles.
"No doubt!" Naruto brimmed with fire.
"How's it feel teaming with Sakura?" Ayato asked casually.
The whole class knew Naruto's crush.
"Not bad. Only problem—Sakura's eyes are glued to Sasuke. But I'm not giving up! She'll like me eventually!"
Naruto's unbreakable optimism almost made Ayato chuckle.
Some hearts just don't change.