Inside the Hokage Administration Building, the deep indigo of the midnight sky pressed against the windows, but the internal lamps burned with a persistent, flickering yellow. The air in the office was thick—heavy with the scent of old paper, cold ink, and the lingering, sweet-acrid smell of Sarutobi Hiruzen's tobacco.
The Third Hokage sat motionless behind his desk. He looked every bit the "God of Shinobi," yet the way his shoulders slumped suggested a man whose greatest enemy was no longer a rival Kage, but the relentless march of time. He listened to the ANBU operative's report with a stillness that bordered on statuesque.
"As the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki, Naruto Uzumaki remains the village's highest-priority subject," the masked operative reported. His voice was a flat, synthesized drone behind the porcelain cat mask. "A three-man ANBU unit maintains rotational surveillance at all times, covering a three-hundred-meter radius around the target. Any irregular contact is documented, analyzed, and reported immediately to this office."
Hiruzen gave a slow, deliberate nod. The embers in his pipe glowed a dull, dying orange.
"And today?" he asked, his voice gravelly.
"The contact between Naruto Uzumaki and Evan Kamiyo occurred naturally at approximately 16:40 hours," the operative stated. "Location: Commercial Street, Block 4. There was no evidence of coercion, pre-planned meeting, or suspicious Chakra fluctuations from either party. The interaction consisted of a brief conversation followed by shared food at Ichiraku Ramen."
The ANBU paused, his head tilting a fraction of a degree. "However, Lord Hokage... the act of approaching the jinchūriki unprompted and with such casual intent is... statistically unusual for a civilian-status child of that age."
Hiruzen did not respond. Instead, he reached for the crystal ball resting on its velvet cushion. He pressed two fingers lightly against the smooth surface, channeling a wisp of Chakra.
The misty depths of the sphere swirled and cleared.
The image resolved into the interior of the ramen shop. Two small boys sat side by side on high stools that made their legs dangle like pendulums. They were slurping noodles with a frantic, messy enthusiasm, their faces partially obscured by steam. Naruto was talking with his mouth full, gesturing wildly with a pair of chopsticks, while Evan watched him with a look of dry amusement, occasionally leaning in to offer a retort.
There was no tension in their frames. No fear in their eyes. Just two children eating far too much and likely regretting the caloric intake in real time.
Hiruzen's eyes softened, the hard lines of his face yielding to a momentary, private grief.
"He looks lonely," the Hokage murmured, his gaze lingering on the blonde boy. "Both of them."
To the ANBU, this was an irrelevant sentiment—a "civilian" emotion that had no place in a tactical briefing. He waited, a silent shadow in the corner, for orders that made sense in the language of shadows.
Hiruzen exhaled a long, grey plume of smoke. "Continue observation. Do not interfere. If the villagers attempt to escalate their hostility in the presence of the Kamiyo boy, document their identities but do not break cover unless the situation turns lethal."
"Yes, Lord Hokage."
The operative vanished, the air displaced by his Body Flicker technique the only sign he had ever been there.
For a long time, Hiruzen remained in the silence. His thoughts drifted away from the logistics of village security and toward the faces of the dead. He thought of Minato's quick laugh and Kushina's fiery spirit. He thought of a child who should have been hailed as a hero's legacy, but instead lived in a bubble of cold isolation.
Evan Kamiyo's appearance was a variable he hadn't fully calculated. A disciplined child. A staggering medical talent. A boy who walked with the shadow of his parents' nobility. And now—contact with Naruto. It was too coincidental to ignore, yet it felt too fundamentally human to suppress.
The heavy office doors creaked open.
Danzo Shimura entered without ceremony, the rhythmic thump-tap of his cane against the hardwood floor acting as a heartbeat for the room's sudden tension. His right arm was tucked away, and one eye remained perpetually swathed in bandages.
"Hiruzen," Danzo said, his voice like dry leaves skittering over stone. "Kamiyo Evan has made direct contact with the jinchūriki. That alone warrants an immediate transfer of the boy's oversight to Root. We cannot have a high-value medical asset compromised by the influence of the Nine-Tails."
Hiruzen didn't even look up from his desk. "No."
Danzo's single visible eye narrowed into a sharp, obsidian slit. "You are allowing unnecessary variables to fester in the heart of the village, Hiruzen. The boy is a blank slate. If he bonds with the fox, his loyalty to the administrative structure will be secondary to his loyalty to the boy."
"I am allowing children to eat ramen, Danzo," Hiruzen replied, his voice gaining a sudden, dangerous edge.
Danzo scoffed, a sound of pure derision. "That boy's medical ninjutsu is not the product of mere study. It shows signs of a bloodline-derived instinct—a raw, cellular affinity for life energy. If guided properly, he could be the greatest healer since the Slug Princess. He could be a weapon that never breaks."
"And if controlled improperly," Hiruzen cut in, finally meeting Danzo's gaze with the full weight of his authority, "he becomes your next experiment. A child stripped of his will, staring at the world with eyes as dead as yours."
Silence stretched between the two old rivals—the light and the shadow of Konoha locked in a stalemate they had practiced for decades.
Danzo smiled thinly, a ghost of a gesture that didn't reach his eye. "You grow sentimental with age, Hiruzen. You see children where I see pillars of state stability."
"And you grow predictable," Hiruzen countered. "Evan Kamiyo remains under my personal protection. Any Root activity detected within a block of his residence or the hospital wards he frequents will be treated as an act of treason. Am I clear?"
Danzo paused. He leaned on his cane, the wood groaning under his weight. Then, unexpectedly, he let out a soft, dry laugh.
"As you wish... Hokage."
He turned on his heel and left, the echo of his cane lingering long after the door had clicked shut. Hiruzen stared at the empty doorway, his jaw tight.
Too many hands have reached for the children of this village, he thought. Not this one. Not while I still draw breath.
That same evening, the small world inside Ichiraku Ramen felt leagues away from the cold politics of the Hokage's tower.
The shop was warm, smelling of savory pork fat and ginger. Evan and Naruto were the only customers left as the night grew late. Six empty bowls were stacked between them—three for Naruto, three for Evan—standing like ceramic trophies of a battle neither had been quite prepared for.
Naruto leaned back until his stool creaked, his small hands clutching his stomach as if trying to keep it from exploding. "I... I think I've reached my limit, Evan. I can't move. If a ninja attacked right now, I'd just roll away like a ball."
"You ate like someone who hasn't seen a noodle in a decade," Evan replied dryly. He felt a similar weight in his own gut, but years of disciplined training allowed him to keep his posture upright.
Naruto squinted at him, his brow furrowing. "Wait, was that an insult? That felt like an insult."
"It wasn't," Evan said, his tone softening. "It was just honesty. You eat fast because you're afraid someone's going to take it away. Slow down next time. I'm not going anywhere."
Naruto grinned, a wide, toothy expression that usually masked his pain. But then, the grin faltered. He grew uncharacteristically quiet, his blue eyes dropping to the wooden counter, tracing the grain of the wood.
"…Hey. Evan?"
"Yeah?"
"You really meant what you said earlier, right? In the street? About... about being friends? You're not just doing this because the old man told you to, or because you want to play a trick on me?"
Evan turned his head to look at him. He didn't see the "Monster Fox" that the villagers feared. He didn't see the "Hero of Prophecy" that the scrolls predicted. He saw a four-year-old boy who had been pushed into the dirt so many times that he expected the ground to be his only companion.
"I don't take orders from anyone when it comes to who I eat ramen with," Evan said simply. "And I'm too busy training to play tricks. We're friends, Naruto. Deal with it."
Naruto's face went through a rapid transformation—from doubt to shock, and finally to a radiance that seemed to push back the shadows of the night.
"I HAVE A FRIEND!" he roared, his voice echoing off the ramen pots.
He tried to jump up to celebrate, but his overstuffed stomach had other ideas. He wobbled, his center of gravity completely compromised by three bowls of extra-pork miso, and he collapsed backward toward the bench with a startled yelp.
"Ow... my butt..."
Evan sighed, shaking his head. "Great. The future Hokage, defeated by a bowl of noodles."
He reached out, his hand hovering over Naruto's arm where he had bumped the bench. He didn't intend to do a full treatment, but the habit of a medic was hard to suppress. A faint, almost imperceptible green glow flickered around his palm.
[Ding!] [Healed Target: Uzumaki Naruto (Jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails)] [Effect: Minor Muscle Fatigue and Bruising Relieved.] [Reward: Chakra +5] [Bonus: Affinity Resonance Detected...]
Evan's heart skipped a beat as a new, golden notification flared at the edge of his vision.
[Extraction Successful: Trace Fragment of Pure Ashura Chakra Acquired.]
A sudden, strange warmth blossomed in Evan's chest—a sensation of immense, ancient vitality. It wasn't his own Chakra, but a resonance that felt like a sun waking up behind his ribs. It was only a fragment, a microscopic speck, but the quality of it was unlike anything he had ever felt.
Evan stiffened, his breath hitching. He quickly pulled his hand back, letting the green glow fade into the dim light of the shop.
Naruto blinked, rubbing his arm. "…Huh. That's weird. It doesn't hurt anymore. Did you do something?"
"It's called 'not being a baby,' Naruto," Evan said, standing up to hide his internal turmoil. "Come on. It's late. I'll walk you part of the way back to your apartment."
"Heh! I don't need an escort! I'm gonna be a ninja!" Naruto boasted, though he followed Evan out of the shop with a tail-wagging eagerness that betrayed his words.
As they stepped out into the biting winter air, the village felt different. To the average observer, it was just two children walking home—arguing about which Hokage was the strongest and laughing at the way their breath turned into clouds.
But high above, nestled in the eaves of the rooftops, the shadows shifted. The ANBU watched. The Root watched. And the village itself, through the collective whispers of its people, began to feel the first tremors of a change it wasn't yet ready to understand.
Evan looked at his hand in the moonlight. He could still feel the golden warmth of the Ashura fragment.
Naruto isn't just a patient, Evan realized. He's a gateway.
The path to the Fourth Great Ninja War was still years away, but as Evan walked beside the blonde boy, he knew the "silent development" phase of his life was over. The game had truly begun.