The morning sun crept through the cracked window of the small, dilapidated apartment, casting thin beams of golden light across the dusty floor. The rays eventually found their way to the single bed pushed against the far wall, illuminating the figure that lay motionless beneath a threadbare blanket.
Naruto Uzumaki's cerulean blue eyes were already open, staring at the water-stained ceiling above him. He hadn't been sleeping—not really. Sleep had become something of a foreign concept to him over the years, replaced instead by long hours of simply... existing. Waiting for the night to end. Waiting for another day to begin. Waiting for something he couldn't quite name anymore.
He blinked slowly, mechanically, watching a spider crawl across a crack in the plaster above his head. Once upon a time, he might have felt something at the sight—curiosity, perhaps, or maybe even a childish urge to catch it. Now, there was nothing. Just observation. Just acknowledgment of the spider's existence and his own.
The twelve-year-old boy sat up slowly, the blanket falling away to reveal a plain white t-shirt that had seen better days. His movements were unhurried, deliberate—not lazy, but rather carrying the weight of someone who had long ago stopped rushing toward anything. What was there to rush toward? What awaited him that warranted excitement or anticipation?
Nothing.
The word echoed in the hollow chambers of his mind as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. He didn't flinch at the temperature. He simply noted it and moved on.
Naruto stood and walked to the small bathroom adjacent to his living space, each step measured and silent. The floorboards that once creaked loudly under his enthusiastic, bouncing footsteps now barely whispered beneath his careful tread. He had learned to move quietly, to make himself small and unnoticeable. It was easier that way. Safer.
The bathroom mirror was cracked—had been cracked for as long as he could remember, ever since someone had thrown a rock through his window three years ago. The projectile had ricocheted off the wall and struck the mirror, leaving a spider web of fractures that distorted his reflection into something fragmented and broken.
Fitting, he thought absently, studying the face that stared back at him. Broken mirror for a broken boy.
But even that thought carried no emotional weight. It was simply an observation, like noting that the sky was blue or that water was wet. Facts of existence. Nothing more.
His reflection showed a face that had changed subtly over the years. The baby fat had melted away, revealing sharper cheekbones and a more defined jawline. His whisker marks—those strange birthmarks that had always drawn stares and whispers—stood out starkly against skin that had grown paler from spending so much time indoors, away from the hateful glares and thrown objects.
But it was his eyes that had changed the most.
Once, those blue eyes had sparkled with mischief and determination, burning with an almost desperate need to be seen, to be acknowledged, to be loved. They had been windows to a soul that refused to give up, no matter how many times it was knocked down.
Now, they were flat. Dull. Empty.
Like looking into the eyes of a porcelain doll—technically present, but lacking any real life behind them.
Naruto turned away from the mirror without ceremony and went through his morning routine with mechanical precision. Brush teeth. Wash face. Run fingers through perpetually unruly blonde hair that refused to be tamed no matter what he did with it. Not that he particularly tried anymore. Not that it mattered.
He returned to his main room—bedroom, living room, and kitchen all rolled into one cramped space—and opened the small refrigerator that hummed and rattled in the corner. Inside sat a few cups of instant ramen, some milk that was probably past its expiration date, and an apple that had seen better days.
He grabbed a cup of ramen and set about preparing it, his movements practiced and efficient. As he waited for the water to boil on his small portable stove—the actual stove had stopped working months ago, and he hadn't bothered to report it to anyone, knowing nothing would be done—he let his mind drift.
Today was the day of the final graduation exam at the Ninja Academy.
He should feel something about that, shouldn't he? Nervousness, perhaps? Excitement? Fear of failure? Hope for success?
Naruto searched within himself for any of those emotions and found only emptiness. A vast, yawning void where feelings used to live. It was like reaching into a box that should have been full of precious treasures, only to find it completely, utterly empty.
He remembered when that box had been full. Remembered the burning desire to become Hokage, to earn the respect and acknowledgment of the village that had shunned him. Remembered the fierce determination that had driven him to keep getting up no matter how many times he was knocked down.
But memories of emotions weren't the same as actually feeling them.
It had happened gradually, so slowly that he hadn't even noticed it at first. Each cruel word, each thrown stone, each turned back, each whispered curse—they had chipped away at something inside him. Like water wearing away at rock, patient and relentless.
The breaking point had come about a year ago.
Naruto poured the boiling water into his ramen cup and let his mind drift back to that night, examining the memory with clinical detachment. It had been October 10th—his birthday, and the anniversary of the Kyuubi attack. The night when the village's hatred of him always seemed to reach its peak.
He had been walking home from the Academy, taking back alleys to avoid the main streets where the festival was in full swing. He knew better than to be visible on that night. He had learned that lesson many times over.
But they had found him anyway.
A group of villagers—some civilians, some low-ranking ninja who should have known better—had cornered him in a dead-end alley. Their faces had been twisted with hatred, with grief, with a burning need to direct their pain at something, someone.
And he had been the convenient target.
Naruto's hand moved automatically, stirring the ramen without any conscious thought as the memory played out in his mind. He remembered the first punch, the first kick, the first sharp edge of a broken bottle. He remembered crying out for help that never came. Remembered the pain—so much pain—as they took out twelve years of rage and grief on his small body.
But more than the physical pain, he remembered the moment something inside him had simply... stopped.
It was as if a switch had been flipped somewhere deep in his psyche. One moment, he had been screaming, crying, begging them to stop. The next, there was only silence. The pain was still there—he could feel it objectively, note its presence—but it no longer seemed to matter. Nothing did.
He had gone limp in their grasp, and something in his sudden stillness had unnerved his attackers. They had looked into his eyes and seen... nothing. No fear, no anger, no pain. Just empty, flat blue.
They had scattered after that, perhaps unnerved by what they saw, or perhaps simply satisfied that they had broken him. Naruto had lain in that alley for hours, staring up at the stars, feeling the wounds on his body slowly knit themselves together thanks to the demon sealed within him.
The physical wounds had healed. They always did.
But whatever had broken inside him that night had never mended.
The ramen was ready. Naruto ate it standing up, not tasting anything, simply fueling his body because that was what one did in the morning. When he was finished, he disposed of the cup and went to his closet to retrieve his clothes.
His hand paused briefly over the orange jumpsuit that hung there—the bright, garish outfit he had once worn like armor, a defiant splash of color against a world that wanted to ignore him. Look at me, that orange had screamed. I'm here. I exist. You can't pretend I don't.
He pushed it aside and reached for something else—a simple black long-sleeved shirt and dark pants. Colors that would help him blend in, go unnoticed. Colors that matched the void inside him.
Naruto dressed quickly and efficiently, then grabbed his equipment pouch and headed for the door. He paused with his hand on the knob, taking one last look around his small apartment. It was sparse, impersonal—no decorations, no photos, no indication that anyone actually lived here rather than simply existed within its walls.
Home, he thought, and the word rang hollow even in his own mind.
He stepped out into the morning air and began the familiar walk to the Academy.
The streets of Konoha were coming alive with the bustle of morning activity. Shopkeepers were opening their stores, civilians were hurrying to their various destinations, and ninja were leaping across rooftops on their way to missions or training grounds.
Naruto walked among them like a ghost, his presence barely registering to those around him. Where once he might have attracted glares and muttered curses, now he seemed to simply... slide past notice. It was a skill he had cultivated carefully over the past year—the art of being invisible without actually hiding.
Don't meet their eyes. Don't walk too fast or too slow. Don't stand out. Don't exist more than necessary.
The rules played through his mind automatically, a survival guide written in the ink of countless painful lessons.
A group of children ran past him, laughing and playing, chasing each other in some game whose rules only they knew. Naruto watched them pass with detached curiosity, noting how free they seemed, how unburdened. Once, he might have felt envy, or loneliness, or a desperate longing to join in.
Now he simply noted their presence and continued walking.
The Academy came into view—a large building that had been both sanctuary and prison for him over the years. Within its walls, he was somewhat protected by the presence of teachers who were, if not kind, at least professionally obligated to prevent outright violence against him. But those same walls contained dozens of children who had absorbed their parents' hatred and suspicion, who looked at him with the same cold eyes as the adults outside.
Naruto approached the entrance and stepped inside, navigating the familiar hallways with the ease of long practice. Students milled about, chatting excitedly about the graduation exam that would take place later that day. Their voices washed over him like water over stone, present but not penetrating.
He reached his classroom and slid the door open, stepping inside.
And then he stopped.
For the first time in a very long time, something penetrated the void inside him. Not an emotion, exactly, but... a disruption. A ripple in the stillness. A sense that something had fundamentally changed in the world around him.
The classroom looked the same as always—rows of desks arranged in tiered seating, a large chalkboard at the front, windows along one wall letting in the morning light. Students were scattered throughout, some sitting, some standing in clusters, all engaged in pre-class socialization.
But four of those students were... different.
Naruto's eyes, usually so flat and disinterested, actually focused with something approaching attention as they took in the sight before him.
Sakura Haruno sat at her usual desk near the middle of the room, but she was not the Sakura he remembered from even a few days ago. The pink-haired girl had always been slender, almost skinny, her figure that of a child still years away from the changes of adolescence. Now, however...
Her body had transformed dramatically. Her chest had swelled significantly, straining against the red qipao dress she wore—which itself seemed to have been altered to accommodate her new proportions. The fabric clung to curves that hadn't existed before, accentuating a figure that now rivaled women twice her age. Her hips had widened proportionally, creating an hourglass silhouette that was almost hypnotic in its perfection. Her waist remained slim, somehow making her new assets appear even more pronounced.
But it wasn't just her body that was different. Her eyes—those green eyes that had always looked at him with annoyance at best and contempt at worst—were fixed on him with an expression he had never seen directed his way before.
Adoration. Pure, unmistakable adoration.
She was smiling at him—not the forced, fake smile she reserved for social niceties, but a genuine, warm expression that lit up her entire face. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and she seemed to lean slightly toward him, as if drawn by some invisible force.
"Naruto-kun," she breathed, and her voice carried across the room like music. "You're here."
Naruto blinked, the only outward sign of his internal confusion. Since when did Sakura call him "Naruto-kun"? Since when did she sound happy to see him?
Before he could process this, his attention was drawn to another figure—Ino Yamanaka, who was sitting beside Sakura despite the fact that the two girls had been bitter rivals for as long as he could remember.
Ino had undergone a similar transformation. The blonde girl's already attractive figure had... expanded was perhaps the only word for it. Her purple outfit seemed barely able to contain curves that defied logic, her chest straining against the fabric in a way that should have been physically impossible. Her long blonde ponytail swayed as she turned to look at him, and her blue eyes held the same adoring expression as Sakura's.
"Naruto-kun!" Ino exclaimed, rising from her seat. The movement caused certain parts of her anatomy to shift in ways that drew the eye almost against one's will. "I saved you a seat! Over here!"
Sakura immediately shot her a glare that, while sharp, lacked the true venom their rivalry had always carried. "I was going to offer him my seat, Ino-pig!"
"As if, Billboard Brow! Naruto-kun deserves to sit next to someone who appreciates him properly!"
Their argument had a strange, almost playful quality to it, as if they were competing not out of genuine animosity but out of shared devotion to a common cause.
Naruto's confusion deepened, though his face remained impassive.
His eyes moved to the third figure that demanded his attention—Hinata Hyuuga, who sat in her usual spot near the back of the room. The shy, quiet girl had always been something of a mystery to him, one of the few people who didn't seem to actively hate him but who he had never really gotten to know.
The Hinata before him now was almost unrecognizable.
Her heavy jacket was gone, replaced by a form-fitting lavender top that made absolutely no attempt to hide the dramatic changes her body had undergone. Her figure had always been somewhat fuller than Sakura or Ino's, but now... now she possessed curves that seemed to defy the laws of physics. Her chest had grown to proportions that made even Sakura and Ino's transformations seem modest by comparison, and her hips and thighs had thickened to match, creating a figure of almost exaggerated femininity.
Her pale, pupil-less eyes were fixed on him with an intensity that would have been unsettling if not for the obvious warmth and adoration within them. Her face was flushed a deep red—some things, it seemed, hadn't changed—but she didn't look away or try to hide. Instead, she held his gaze with a determination that was new.
"N-Naruto-kun," she said softly, and even her stutter couldn't hide the longing in her voice. "G-Good morning."
Three girls who barely knew him, who had never shown him particular kindness before, now looked at him as if he were the center of their universe.
It made no sense.
And yet, there was a fourth transformation that made even less sense.
Naruto's gaze finally settled on the figure sitting in the seat that Sasuke Uchiha usually occupied. The last loyal Uchiha, the brooding avenger, the boy who had been the object of almost every girl in class's affections...
Was gone.
In his place sat a girl.
A girl with Sasuke's distinctive dark hair, though it was now longer, falling in silky waves past her shoulders. A girl with Sasuke's aristocratic facial features, though they had softened into something undeniably feminine and beautiful. A girl with Sasuke's dark eyes, though they no longer held the cold, distant look of someone focused on vengeance.
Instead, those dark eyes sparkled with an almost bubbly excitement as they locked onto Naruto.
And her body...
Where Sasuke had been lean and masculine, this girl was anything but. Her figure rivaled those of Sakura, Ino, and Hinata, with generous curves that her outfit—a modified version of the Uchiha high-collared shirt that now had a much more revealing neckline—did nothing to conceal. She was, by any objective measure, stunningly beautiful.
But more jarring than her physical appearance was her demeanor.
Gone was the brooding silence, the dismissive grunts, the air of dark intensity that had characterized Sasuke for as long as Naruto had known him. In its place was... brightness. Enthusiasm. An almost giddy energy that radiated from her like heat from a fire.
"Naruto-kun!" the girl who had been Sasuke exclaimed, bouncing slightly in her seat in a way that drew attention to her prominent assets. "Oh my gosh, you're finally here! I was starting to think you wouldn't come, and I was getting sooooo worried, and—"
She stopped herself, taking a breath, then giggled—actually giggled—in a way that was so at odds with anything Sasuke had ever done that Naruto felt another ripple disturb the void inside him.
"I'm sorry, I'm totally rambling, aren't I? Ugh, I'm just so happy to see you!" She beamed at him with a smile so bright it was almost blinding. "Come sit next to me! Please please please?"
Naruto stood frozen in the doorway, his mind—usually so carefully blank and empty—struggling to process what he was seeing.
Four girls with impossibly exaggerated figures.
Four girls looking at him with naked adoration.
One of them was apparently a transformed version of his rival.
And nobody else in the classroom seemed to notice anything unusual.
Naruto's eyes swept across the other students. Shikamaru Nara was slumped over his desk, presumably napping, completely disinterested in anything around him. Choji Akimichi sat beside him, munching on chips. Kiba Inuzuka was talking to his dog Akamaru about something. Shino Aburame sat silently in his usual corner, sunglasses obscuring any reaction he might have had.
None of them were staring at the four dramatically transformed girls. None of them seemed to find anything unusual about Sasuke apparently being female now, or about any of the girls having figures that belonged more in fantasy than reality.
It was as if, to everyone else, nothing had changed.
Naruto filed this information away in his mind, noting it without any particular emotional response. Strange things had happened in his life before. This was simply one more.
"Naruto-kun?" Sakura's voice cut through his observation. She had risen from her seat and was approaching him, her walk somehow both graceful and... bouncy. "Are you okay? You look like you're a million miles away."
Before he could respond—not that he had planned to—Ino was at his other side, having crossed the room with surprising speed.
"Don't crowd him, Forehead! Can't you see he's probably just overwhelmed by all the attention? Unlike some people, Naruto-kun is actually modest!"
"Who are you calling immodest, you—"
"Please, both of you." Hinata's soft voice somehow cut through their bickering. She had also approached, moving to stand slightly behind and to the side of Naruto. "You're making Naruto-kun uncomfortable."
"She's right!" The girl who had been Sasuke bounced over to join them, completing the quartet surrounding him. "We should totally give him some space! But also..." She leaned in closer, her dark eyes wide and earnest. "If you want company, Naruto-kun, I'm totally available. For anything. Whatever you need. Anything at all."
Her tone on the last phrase was... suggestive. Deeply, unmistakably suggestive.
Again, Naruto noted this without feeling anything in particular about it. He observed the four girls surrounding him—their transformed bodies, their adoring expressions, their complete and total focus on him—and felt... nothing.
Well, perhaps not nothing. There was curiosity, in a distant, abstract way. A question that floated through the void: Why is this happening?
But there was no excitement. No nervousness. No pleasure at being the center of attention he had once craved so desperately.
Just emptiness, tinged with mild confusion.
"I need to sit down," he said, and even his voice was flat—not cold, exactly, but lacking any emotional inflection. He might have been commenting on the weather for all the feeling it carried.
The four girls immediately reacted, practically tripping over each other in their eagerness to accommodate him.
"Of course, Naruto-kun! Here, take my seat!"
"No, take mine! It has a better view!"
"M-My seat is quieter, in the back..."
"Sit next to me! I'll share my notes with you! I actually started taking notes and stuff because I thought you might want help studying and—"
Naruto walked past all of them, ignoring their offers, and made his way to an empty seat in the corner of the room—his usual spot, chosen specifically because it was out of the way and drew minimal attention.
The four girls followed him like a small, extremely curvaceous parade, arranging themselves in the seats surrounding him with an efficiency that suggested they had somehow coordinated this in advance.
Sakura claimed the seat to his right, crossing her legs in a way that emphasized their shape. Ino took the seat in front of him, turning around to face him and resting her arms on his desk in a way that... displayed her assets prominently. Hinata sat behind him, close enough that he could hear her soft, slightly accelerated breathing. And the transformed Sasuke—he really needed to figure out what to call her now—practically vaulted over desks to claim the seat to his left.
"This is perfect!" the dark-haired girl said, clapping her hands together. "Now we can all be close to Naruto-kun! It's like... a squad. A Naruto-appreciation squad!"
"I would have called it something cooler," Ino muttered, "but... yeah, basically."
Sakura nodded, her green eyes never leaving Naruto's face. "We all just want you to know that we're here for you, Naruto-kun. Whatever you need."
"A-Anything," Hinata added from behind him, her voice barely above a whisper.
Naruto looked at each of them in turn, his expression unchanged. In another life, in another time, this would have been a dream come true. Four beautiful girls, showering him with attention and affection? The lonely, neglected boy he had once been would have wept with joy.
But that boy was gone, hollowed out by years of abuse and neglect, finally shattered completely on a night of violence and pain.
What remained was... this. A shell. An observer. Someone who noted the attention without feeling anything about it.
"Okay," he said simply.
The four girls exchanged glances, their smiles faltering slightly at his lack of reaction. They had clearly expected something more—excitement, happiness, maybe even embarrassed flustering.
They hadn't expected... nothing.
But their adoration didn't dim. If anything, it seemed to intensify, taking on a determined edge.
"He's just shy," Sakura declared, as if trying to convince herself. "That's all."
"Totally," the transformed Sasuke agreed. "He's not used to people being nice to him. But that's okay! We'll show him. Right, girls?"
"Right!" the other three chorused.
Naruto turned his attention to the front of the classroom, where Iruka-sensei had just entered and was calling for everyone to settle down. The graduation exam would begin soon.
Behind and around him, four girls with impossible figures and devoted hearts made silent vows to break through the walls around the boy they inexplicably adored.
They didn't know about the years of abuse. Didn't know about the hollow emptiness where his heart should be. Didn't know that the boy they were so desperate to reach had long ago retreated to a place where even he couldn't find himself anymore.
But they would learn.
And perhaps, in the learning, something might change.
Or perhaps not.
Naruto honestly didn't care either way.