Twilight flooded the sky over Konoha with a thick, disturbing orange light, as if a bottle of ink had been spilled onto the horizon. The festive hum at the Academy gates had long since died down, replaced by the cozy noise of the village: the clinking of dishes, muffled laughter behind closed doors, the rich smell of frying fish. Parents and their newly minted genin children had gone home—to celebrate, to eat dinner, to make plans for a great future.
Naruto remained alone.
He sat on the swing, his feet barely touching the trampled earth. The ropes creaked with every gust of wind. The emptiness around him felt physical—an icy patch in the warm evening air.
Thud.
The soft, almost ghostly sound of landing on gravel behind him.
Naruto didn't flinch. Ears accustomed to the absolute silence of the Sanctuary caught the disturbance in the air a second before the sound. He slowly raised his head.
It wasn't Iruka. Iruka-sensei's steps were heavy, tired, but open. This person moved differently—stealthily, even when standing still.
"Naruto..."
Mizuki-sensei stood frozen a few steps away, in the deep shade of the tree. His ash-colored hair, pulled back in a ponytail, seemed grey in the dying light. On his shoulders—a chunin vest; on his face—a mask of flawless, sympathetic concern.
"I saw what happened," Mizuki's voice was soft, enveloping like warm syrup. "It's unfair."
Naruto remained silent. His internal survival instinct—the very beast that woke him at a rustle in an empty apartment—was already vibrating like a taut wire of alarm.
"You tried harder than anyone," Mizuki continued, taking a step closer. He squatted down, invading personal space to be at eye level. "I'll tell you something you might not know. Iruka... he's always disliked you."
Iruka-sensei?..
The puzzle didn't fit. The teacher's face surfaced in his memory—disappointed, sad, but devoid of malice. His words in the forest, the clumsy attempts to teach... The lie was too crude. Too convenient.
"He's just like everyone else," Mizuki lowered his voice confidentially to a whisper. "He sees in you only... well, you know. An orphan. A problem. He just doesn't want you to pass. But I... I believe you have huge potential."
A smile touched the chunin's lips, but didn't reach his eyes. Cold ripples on water.
"I know a secret way. Another test. A sort of make-up exam for the chosen few."
"Secret test?" Naruto asked again. His voice sounded hoarse, perfectly conveying hope.
Outwardly, he looked like a confused child grasping at straws. His eyes widened, his lips trembled. But inside, behind the screen of azure irises, his mind became cold as a glacier.
He doubted. He desperately, to the point of pain in his chest, wanted to get that forehead protector. But his intuition screamed about the wrongness of what was happening. He needed facts. He needed certainty.
A deep, imperceptible breath. Shift of focus.
Qi Sensory: Activate.
The world changed. Colors faded, giving way to vibrations and rhythms. He couldn't read thoughts yet—his level was too low. But he read the body.
The body never lies.
And what "sounded" in Mizuki made his insides clench.
First—the heart.
Under the mask of calm concern, under the smooth baritone of a professional, Mizuki's heart was beating like a bird caught in a snare.
THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!
Fast. Arrhythmic. Too powerful for a peaceful conversation. This was not the pulse of a mentor comforting a student. This was the pulse of a gambler betting everything. Adrenaline.
Second—the muscles.
Naruto caught the micro-tension in his interlocutor's neck and shoulders. Readiness to lunge. Readiness to attack. A pose relaxed to the eyes, but to sensory perception, screaming of a raised blade.
And third... the smell.
Through the scent of cheap soap broke the sharp, metallic tang of fear and anticipation. And a thin, cutting vibration emanating from the aura. The hum of a taut string ready to snap.
Killing Intent. Hidden, suppressed, but real.
Naruto almost choked on this sensation, but didn't blink.
He's lying, the inner voice stated coldly. Every word is a lie. Outside is calm, inside is a storm. He wants to use me. Or kill me.
This man was not a friend. This was a predator in shepherd's clothing.
Fine, Naruto thought, and his Qi hardened, preparing for defense. Let's see what you really want.
"What... what kind of test, Mizuki-sensei?" he asked, allowing his voice to tremble.
Mizuki smiled wider. The fish had bitten.
"It's not for everyone. Only for those who have the courage," he switched to a conspiratorial whisper, glancing around fleetingly. "There is a scroll. The Forbidden Scroll of Seals. It is kept in the Hokage's residence..."
Naruto froze for real.
Forbidden Scroll... of Seals?
Memories flooded in like a wave. The dusty Academy library. The history section. The mention of the Uzumaki clan—the greatest masters of Fuinjutsu, whose knowledge was considered lost or hidden. The scrolls in his own Sanctuary, which he still couldn't decipher due to a lack of foundation.
"...If you can steal this scroll," Mizuki continued, not noticing the change in the boy's gaze, "bring it to the forest, to the old shack, and learn at least one technique... you will definitely pass. It's a special exam from the Hokage himself."
A trap.
An obvious, crude, deadly trap. Mizuki was a traitor. He wanted to use the "demon child" as a disposable lockpick to steal the village's treasure, and then, likely, remove the witness.
Naruto was about to refuse. Feign fright, run away, find Iruka-sensei...
But suddenly, the darkness in his subconscious stirred.
Scroll of Seals?..
The voice resonating in his head was like a sharp screech. The Fox, usually dozing or lazily observing, woke up instantly.
There was no friendliness in his tone. There sounded arrogance, ancient malice, and... sharp, predatory interest.
I can smell it even from here, the Kyubi growled. His presence pressed on the mind like a stone slab. The Fourth's ink. The legacy of your cursed jailer ancestors. The very scroll this village hides like a cowardly dog hides a bone.
Naruto froze, listening into the abyss within himself.
Hey, brat, the Fox's order cracked like a whip. This idiot chunin wants to use you. But that Scroll... in it are written the chains that hold me. Go and take it.
Why? Naruto asked mentally, maintaining his stupid look.
Because I'm bored watching you crawl in the mud, the demon snorted. And because that knowledge belongs to the Uzumaki. If you have the guts, steal it. I want to see what you're capable of when you're not pretending to be a nonentity. Bring me those seals.
His mind worked at breakneck speed.
Mizuki—a traitor. High treason. Risk of death.
But the Fox... The Fox was right.
This was a chance. The only chance to get to the real legacy of his clan. Secrets capable of explaining his power, his origin, his potential. Knowledge that Konoha had hidden from him all his life.
The reward was worth the risk.
Mizuki thought he was using him? What a joke.
Naruto made a decision. He would play along. He would become the "lockpick" Mizuki yearned to see. But the prize would not go to the traitor.
He jerked his head up. The cold resolve, calculation, maturity of the gaze vanished without a trace. His eyes filled with moisture, his mouth fell open in an expression of fanatical, idiotic devotion.
A leap from the swing. Clenched fists.
"Is that true, Mizuki-sensei?! You... you're not joking?! Can I really become a genin?!"
"Of course, Naruto. I believe in you."
"I'll do it!" he shouted, perfectly playing the role of a naive child. "I'll prove it to you! I'll prove it to Iruka-sensei! I'll prove to everyone that I'm not a loser! I'll become a cool shinobi!"
Mizuki smiled. For real. It was the predatory, triumphant smile of a hunter who heard the trap snap shut. Luckily for him, Naruto was wiping "tears of joy" too diligently with his sleeve at that moment, hiding his own icy stare.
"Hush, Naruto, it's a secret," the chunin whispered. "Listen carefully. Here is the plan..."