Outside Naruto's Apartment
Two shinobi stood hidden in the shadows above the street, their presence masked so perfectly that even the wind seemed unaware of them.
They were ANBU—watchdogs assigned to a duty that was less an honor and more a sentence.
They had been watching Naruto Uzumaki for years.
Every day.
Every night.
Every breath he took.
Because if the Nine-Tails' jinchūriki ever lost control, the village wouldn't just suffer losses—Konoha itself might burn.
And if that happened…
It wouldn't matter whether the cause was a missing meal, a wrong word, or a simple mistake.
The people responsible for watching him would be blamed.
They would be executed.
Or worse.
So they watched.
Quietly. Constantly.
Like crows perched over a battlefield that hadn't started yet.
But today… today was different.
Naruto had woken up abruptly.
And for the first time in a long time, the two ANBU felt something shift in the air—something subtle and wrong.
His chakra spiked.
It wasn't a violent flare, not like the beast's rage.
It was… confusion. Pain. A sudden disturbance, like a locked door inside him had been kicked open.
Both ANBU moved instantly, appearing near the apartment with practiced speed.
One landed on the balcony edge, crouched and listening.
The other slipped to a window, scanning for signs of struggle.
They didn't break in. They couldn't—not without orders.
But their bodies remained tense, ready to react to anything.
Minutes passed.
Then the chakra calmed.
No screams. No uncontrolled surge of the Nine-Tails.
Nothing.
After confirming he was stable, they retreated back to their positions.
Still, neither of them relaxed.
Because the Hokage's orders were absolute:
The jinchūriki must not be harmed.
The Nine-Tails must not be released.
Everything else—his loneliness, his childhood, his suffering—was secondary.
---
The Village's "Plan"
The higher-ups of Konoha had always been cautious with Naruto.
Not because they cared.
Because they feared what he contained.
And more importantly…
They feared what he might become.
A loud child could be manipulated.
A lonely fool could be controlled with cheap kindness and false hope.
A jinchūriki who cried for attention could be fed affection in small doses, just enough to keep him obedient—just enough to make him tie his heart to the village until he didn't know where Konoha ended and he began.
That was the ideal.
A weapon that thought it was loved.
A monster chained by gratitude.
That was how jinchūriki were supposed to be handled.
But Naruto Uzumaki…
didn't fit.
He wasn't loud.
He wasn't desperate.
He didn't beg.
When the villagers glared at him with hatred, he didn't weep.
When they spat curses, he didn't scream.
He simply disappeared from their eyes.
Into the forest.
At first, the watchers assumed it was a tantrum.
A child running away, destined to return by nightfall with tears and trembling hands.
But he didn't return.
Hours became days.
Days became something close to disbelief.
The ANBU observed from afar, expecting his body to break.
Expecting him to crawl back into the village when hunger became unbearable.
But Naruto endured.
He starved quietly.
His lips cracked.
His stomach twisted.
He shook from weakness.
And still he stayed.
Then he caught a fish.
A small one.
He ate it raw with no hesitation, like an animal forced into survival.
That was the moment the ANBU started to understand something terrifying:
Naruto wasn't fragile.
He was adapting.
And the village's plan—whatever it had been—was failing.
He was becoming comfortable with being alone.
And a person who didn't need anyone…
couldn't be controlled.
Months passed.
Naruto grew better at living in the wild—better at moving silently, at finding water, at enduring cold nights without crying for warmth.
In the end, Hiruzen Sarutobi had to intervene personally.
Not with orders.
Not with threats.
With affection.
He gave Naruto an apartment.
Money.
Food.
A routine.
He tried to play the role of a caring grandfather—a single warm light in the boy's empty world.
A bond.
A hook.
But Naruto didn't react the way they expected.
He accepted the apartment the same way someone accepted rain after drought.
Not with tears of gratitude.
Not with desperate attachment.
Just… acceptance.
As if it was natural.
As if it was owed.
And that unsettled the higher-ups more than they ever admitted.
At the Academy, Naruto didn't try to make friends.
He didn't chase attention.
He didn't fight for recognition.
He simply existed.
Quiet. Observing. Silent.
After two years, Danzō had pushed harder.
He claimed Naruto was a wild card.
That leaving him untamed would backfire on the village.
He wanted the jinchūriki inside ROOT.
He wanted him trained as a tool.
A weapon that obeyed.
But Hiruzen shut it down with one sentence.
"I am Hokage."
Danzō backed off—not because he agreed, but because for the time being… he had to.
After the Uchiha Massacre, ROOT had been "disbanded" in the eyes of the village.
An official lie.
The shadows of Konoha never truly disappeared.
They only learned to hide better.
Still, even the elders started losing hope of making Naruto depend on them.
The boy didn't love the village.
He didn't hate it loudly either.
But there was something far more dangerous than hatred.
Indifference.
So they considered harsher methods.
Seals.
Conditioning.
Brainwashing.
Tools designed to force obedience.
But they halted.
Not out of mercy.
Out of fear.
Naruto's ninja talent was… mediocre.
He struggled with basic jutsu.
He couldn't form stable clones.
His chakra control was inconsistent.
And they all knew why.
The Nine-Tails' interference disrupted him.
If they tried to add seals or alter his mind too much, the stress could crack the jinchūriki's containment.
And if the Nine-Tails escaped…
There wouldn't be enough bodies to bury.
So for now, they waited.
And they watched.
---
Naruto's Plan
Inside his apartment, Naruto sat on his bed with his arms crossed, eyes half-lidded as he stared into nothing.
The decision had already been made.
He was leaving.
Not tomorrow.
Not someday.
Soon.
But he wasn't foolish enough to walk out with nothing.
Survival required preparation.
The village had resources.
He would take them.
Naruto began listing what he needed, building the plan in his mind like assembling a weapon piece by piece.
First: sealing scrolls.
The Hokage Tower had the best supply—storage, records, jutsu scrolls.
If he could get even a few…
His options would explode.
But the Hokage Building was the heart of the village.
Security seals.
Barrier detection.
Patrol routes.
He didn't know enough.
And that was the only thing slowing him down.
Second: food.
He could steal from storage units—supply depots used by shinobi and shops.
Something easy.
Something that wouldn't be noticed immediately.
Third: clothing.
A quick theft from a civilian shop.
Better if he changed his look before leaving the village.
Fourth: ninja tools.
Kunai. Wire. Smoke bombs. Explosive tags.
He didn't need a full arsenal.
Just enough to survive.
He spent the rest of the day thinking.
Then the night.
But no matter how much he turned it in his mind…
the Hokage Tower remained a problem.
Too many unknowns.
Too many eyes.
Even if he could slip past the guards…
the seals alone might ruin everything.
Eventually, exhaustion won.
He slept.
---
Academy
Morning came.
Routine dragged him out of bed.
He moved through the village without expression, ignoring the stares, ignoring the whispers, ignoring the way people seemed to flinch when he passed.
When he reached the Academy, the classroom noise dimmed slightly.
Eyes turned to him.
Then away.
Like always.
Naruto walked to his seat at the back of the room and sat down alone.
He didn't mind.
The back row meant fewer people in his space.
Fewer distractions.
Less attention.
Quiet suited him.
After a while, Iruka entered and began teaching, his voice filling the room like a steady rhythm.
Naruto listened only halfway.
Instead, his eyes drifted across the class.
Sasuke Uchiha sat like a blade resting in a sheath—quiet, sharp, dangerous even when still.
Sakura Haruno kept glancing toward him repeatedly, like most of the girls.
Shikamaru had his head on the desk, asleep as if the world didn't matter.
Chōji ate calmly beside him, chips disappearing with soft crunches.
Hinata Hyūga sat stiffly, timid and smaller than she should have been, as if she'd learned early that staying unnoticed was safer.
In this world… no one had protected her.
Kiba played with his dog under the desk.
Shino sat quietly as always, unreadable.
Iruka taught with the same practiced tone, but Naruto could see it now—beneath the surface.
The tension.
The quiet resentment.
The complicated emotions adults wore when they thought children were too stupid to notice.
Naruto didn't react.
He didn't care.
Let them live.
Let them die.
It meant nothing to him.
His plan was already moving forward.
Tonight, he would act.
With sealing scrolls or without them.
He was done waiting.
---
The lesson dragged on.
Boring.
Pointless.
Naruto leaned back slightly, eyes unfocused as he began thinking about his new abilities again.
Perfect chakra control.
A dimension that could accelerate time.
Teleportation.
Mind reading.
And then…
his thoughts slowed.
His eyes narrowed.
A realization struck him so cleanly that it felt like a blade sliding into place.
He didn't need to steal the Hokage Tower's secrets directly.
He didn't need to risk the seals.
He didn't need to fight the village head-on.
Because he already had a way to obtain information.
Mind reading.
Not from a random shinobi.
Not from some chunin who knew nothing important.
No… that would be useless.
What he needed was the knowledge of someone who actually understood the village's security.
Someone who knew patrol routes.
Sealing arrays.
Vault locations.
Backup measures.
Someone who lived and breathed Konoha's hidden systems.
Naruto's gaze flickered toward the window, toward the unseen shadows outside.
A slow, dangerous thought formed in his mind.
I won't read a ninja's mind…
I'll read the mind of someone who's been watching me.
And deep down, he could already feel it.
The presence of those two...