A few weeks later, Iruka was at the Academy's training field, and the anxiety in the air was almost tangible—like a cheap jutsu: loud, obvious, and impossible to ignore.
The students gathered in small groups. Some were stretching as if they were about to face a war, others simply trying to look confident while swallowing hard. The packed dirt beneath their feet was already scarred with too many footprints, and the scent of wood from the targets mixed with the weak warmth of the sun.
Iruka raised his voice, firm enough to cut through the agitation.
"Today, we will have a distinguished presence observing the matches."
The effect was immediate. That kind of sentence was perfect bait for children—and Iruka knew it. The entire field seemed to lean in.
"Who?!" someone shouted.
"Come on, Iruka-sensei, tell us!" another insisted.
"Don't keep us waiting, sensei!" a third added, almost pleading.
Naruto stayed quiet, arms crossed, simply watching. He already knew the rhythm: Iruka built suspense, the class got excited, and then came the reveal. But this time, Naruto wasn't curious—he was suspicious.
Iruka raised a hand, asking for silence. The gesture, combined with his serious expression, was enough to bring the volume down within seconds. He inhaled, as if he were about to announce something sacred.
"The one who will be watching the matches today is Hokage-sama."
The crowd exploded.
Not with polite murmurs, but with genuine excitement. Civilian children buzzed as if they had just earned the right to touch a myth. Clan children straightened up—some with pride, others with that anxious *I need to look perfect* feeling, as if the village leader's gaze could measure their worth.
Naruto narrowed his eyes, his mood sinking instantly.
*If he gives that Will of Fire speech for three hours again, I'm letting Kurama fire a Bijūdama at him.*
Deep inside the seal, the fox seemed to be asleep. But its ears twitched lazily, as if to say: *I'm not against it.*
Noticing the rising noise, Iruka tightened his control.
"Silence! Do you want Hokage-sama to see how unruly you are?"
It sounded like a question, but carried the taste of a threat. It worked. The children quieted down far too quickly, and for a brief moment only the wind crossed the field, dragging light dust along and making a few leaves dance near the wall.
Then a voice came from behind them, calm, as if it had been there for a while and only now decided to exist.
"Don't scold the children over something so small, Iruka."
The silence that had just begun to settle shattered again—this time harder. Everyone turned at once, as if their necks were pulled by an invisible string.
Hiruzen Sarutobi walked calmly forward, hands behind his back, carrying the posture of someone who bore the entire village on his shoulders and yet made it look effortless. He wasn't holding his pipe at the moment—but the feeling of *Hokage* was still there, a subtle pressure that made students hold their breath without realizing it.
Beside him stood a tall man with silver-white hair, far too relaxed for someone who could clearly wipe out half the field with one hand. A mask covered his mouth and one eye, and the visible eye seemed to look at everything and nothing at the same time.
Naruto locked onto him immediately.
Kakashi Hatake.
Konoha's genius. His father's student. And—if the future hadn't been completely derailed by the deviations Naruto kept creating—his jōnin instructor once he became a genin.
But something was off.
*Why is he here?*
Naruto didn't have an answer, but he had a very specific bad feeling—the kind that caused a headache before it even turned into a problem. Kakashi's presence beside the Hokage at an "Academy sparring session" wasn't a coincidence. It was evaluation. It was interest. It was *someone* deciding to look more closely at where Naruto was trying to walk without being dragged back.
Iruka, who looked ready to bow all the way to the ground, hurried forward and bent deeply in exaggerated respect.
"My apologies, Hokage-sama."
Hiruzen let out a low, almost paternal chuckle.
"Hahaha… there's no need for such formality, Iruka. Come now, stand up."
"Thank you, Hokage-sama."
Iruka straightened, eyes shining with pure admiration. It wasn't just "respect for the position"; it was the kind that comes from growing up hearing stories and now seeing the legend standing right in front of you.
Before saying anything else, Hiruzen looked over the students one by one. The entire field seemed to shrink. Some looked away in fear—not because they had done anything wrong, but because important adults always had the power to turn *nothing* into punishment. Others trembled, trying to stand unnaturally still, as if immobility were a sign of discipline.
Then the Hokage's gaze stopped on Naruto.
Naruto noticed immediately. And, as always, decided not to make it easy.
He casually raised a hand, as if greeting a neighbor at the market.
"Yo, old man."
The world froze.
It was so sudden that even the birds seemed to pause mid-air for half a second. The entire class went silent, eyes wide, and the only sound was the wind scraping across the dirt.
Kiba stared with his mouth open, like he had swallowed a kunai. Ino brought a hand to her face, as if trying to convince herself she hadn't heard that. Some civilian kids looked at Naruto as if he were about to be executed on the spot.
Hiruzen stood still for a moment.
Then a vein popped on his forehead.
He walked toward Naruto with steps that were far too controlled for someone who was angry—the kind of control that only made the anger feel heavier.
"You should show a little more respect," Hiruzen said, his voice firm, but with that *I am trying to be patient* tone. "When you were younger, you used to call me Grandpa. Why not keep doing that?"
Naruto tilted his head slightly, as if seriously considering it. The truth was simple: he called Hiruzen *old man* because it annoyed him, and because Hiruzen *couldn't* react openly without looking small in front of the children. It was one of those positional games Naruto understood all too well.
It had been a while since Naruto switched from "Grandpa" to "old man," and Hiruzen would never admit it—but it hurt his pride.
Naruto placed a hand on his chin theatrically, as if pondering a philosophical dilemma.
"Nah… I prefer old man. But if you're really in the mood to talk, we could discuss that crystal ball of yours and what you—"
He didn't finish.
Hiruzen covered Naruto's mouth in a movement far too fast for a "tired old man," coughed, and immediately changed the subject, as if he had just stopped a bomb from going off.
"Iruka… let's not keep the children waiting. Begin the matches."
Iruka didn't waste a second. It was the kind of order he would obey even if he didn't want to. He turned, grabbed his clipboard, and started calling out instructions, organizing the matches as if the training field were suddenly the most important thing in the universe—and for him, maybe it was.
Hiruzen removed his hand from Naruto's mouth, shot him an irritated look, and returned to Kakashi's side.
Naruto, wearing the most innocent expression he could manage, pretended to look at the clouds, as if he hadn't just almost opened a forbidden topic in front of the entire class.
But the problem didn't end there.
The kids had seen it. They had heard it. And kids don't forget things like that.
In seconds, Naruto was surrounded.
"Naruto, you know the Hokage?!" Ino was the first to appear, curiosity shining brighter than any sense of self-preservation.
"Hey, tell us already!" Kiba jumped in, practically bouncing with excitement.
"What do you mean, 'old man'?" someone else asked, as if the nickname were the real mystery.
"You used to call him Grandpa?" another insisted, eyes wide as if that was more unbelievable than the Hokage being there at all.
Soon, several of his friends were around him, all talking at once, asking everything, demanding answers, each pulling a different piece of the story.
Naruto genuinely struggled to answer anything when the group turned into a swarm—and he knew it. It was a silly social weakness, but a weakness nonetheless.
He tried to open his mouth, but one question trampled over another.
"Did he give you money?" Ino fired off, without any filter.
"Have you been inside his office?" Kiba followed.
"Does he train you?" someone else asked.
Naruto took a slow breath, trying to keep his patience.
Then, in the middle of the chaos, he glanced toward Hiruzen.
The Hokage stood to the side, close to Kakashi, observing the field with an overly calm posture. But that wasn't what caught Naruto's attention.
It was the expression.
Amusement.
Subtle. Small. But there. As if Hiruzen were saying without words: *Now deal with it.*
A vein pulsed on Naruto's forehead.
He kept the smile on his face—because smiling was also a weapon—but inside, irritation flared hot and clean.
*Maybe the village should know about the Hokage's fetishes.*
The thought sparked suddenly. Ugly, vindictive, unnecessary… and precisely because of that, tempting when anger took hold. Whether it was just a fleeting thought in the heat of the moment, or a seed beginning to turn into a plan, only Naruto knew.
He looked back at his friends, still being bombarded with questions, and felt the "headache" he had sensed earlier finally take shape: the Hokage's presence there wasn't just an honor for the class.
It was *complication* for him.
And at the edge of his perception, he felt Kakashi watching as well—in that quiet way of someone who doesn't ask questions out loud, because he prefers to answer them himself.
The day of matches had only just begun.
And for Naruto, one thing was already clear: it wasn't going to be a simple day.
(Early access chapters: see the bio.)