Another four years had passed, and Naruto felt it in his own body before he noticed it in others. His height was now one hundred and sixty-three centimeters, which alone already changed how people looked at him. The childish appearance was gone, replaced by firmer features, a face that carried an uncomfortable maturity for those who still remembered the academy kid. His build was lean but defined, with a posture that didn't come only from training—it came from habit, from someone who had learned far too early not to look vulnerable. His blond hair remained neat, the red tips still there like a mark that refused to fade, a silent signature that drew attention even when he didn't want it to.
He finished getting ready with practical, almost automatic movements and left the room.
The house felt alive in a different way, filled with kitchen noises and the smell of food. Some days, that was still strange. Having a home with a routine. Having something that wasn't shadow or absence.
"Good morning." Hearing the door, Izumi—who was in the kitchen preparing breakfast—turned and greeted him casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Morning," Naruto replied as he approached. "What are you making?"
"Eggs and bacon." Izumi went back to focusing on the food, moving with the same precision as always. She never did anything carelessly. Even cooking felt like training.
Naruto sat down, watching the way she moved through the kitchen. "Why do you look so excited?"
Izumi turned to him, answering quickly, as if the question were almost offensive in how obvious it was. "Obviously I'm excited. Today is the day the teams are announced."
Naruto let out a quiet breath. That was it. The day when part of the future would be set on rails—at least in the format the village insisted on using. Graduation had already happened, and as expected, Naruto had finished first. Hinata came in second, followed by Sasuke, Ino, and Sakura. The results hadn't surprised him, but the way they affected everyone else was still interesting. Many pretended not to care. Many forced smiles. And some simply accumulated resentment.
Izumi was watching him now with narrowed eyes, too accusatory to be mere curiosity. "You already talked to the Hokage, didn't you?" She raised the spatula in her hand and pointed it at him threateningly, as if it were a kunai.
Naruto raised his hands in surrender, wearing a half-smile that wasn't quite guilt, but wasn't innocence either. "Don't worry. Everything's already settled."
Izumi snorted, turning her face away and going back to the stove.
Naruto sighed. Over these four years, their relationship had improved a lot. Not simply. Not quickly. Not perfectly. But it had improved. Trust, in the end, was built from routine, from small repeated choices, and from not breaking it when breaking it would be convenient.
And it wasn't just between them. Over time, Hinata, Ino, and Sakura had also entered that circle—each in her own way, each carrying her insecurities and desires—and each pulled closer, as if fate itself had decided to tie the four of them together.
The four girls had become practically inseparable. And because of that, Naruto had been forced to do something that, for many, would have been unthinkable: impose on Hiruzen that Izumi become their jonin instructor.
It hadn't been a pleasant conversation. It hadn't been a humble request. It had been a demand, sustained by power, by influence, and by the fact that Hiruzen had learned long ago that trying to bend Naruto through pride was the kind of mistake that destroyed entire villages.
The two small issues were these: Izumi was still officially a chunin, and a team was supposed to have four members, not five.
Naruto chewed on the thought without hurry, as if it were a memory worth keeping. *Having connections and strength really makes a difference.* Without direct access to the Hokage, without the courage to face that office without shaking, and above all without the power to impose, it would have been nearly impossible to achieve that. The village talked about rules—but rules existed for those who didn't have enough hands to tear them apart.
And if anyone questioned whether a newly formed team led by a chunin would be safe, the answer was simple. Naruto already had full mastery of Hiraishin, and the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan was more than a weapon. It was certainty. There were practically no threats in that world that could truly catch him off guard. And none of the girls were weak either. Not anymore. Not with time, guidance, and the right pressure.
Izumi turned with the finished plate, walked over, and placed eggs and bacon in front of him. "Here you go."
"Thanks." Naruto said, and they both started eating. The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that exists when you don't need to fill the space to prove that everything is fine. Still, beneath that simple routine, there was a layer of vigilance. Naruto never truly switched off. Neither did Izumi.
Some time later, Naruto was already at the door, finishing tying the forehead protector around his arm. He liked that gesture—not for symbolism, but because it was a physical reminder that he was part of that system without depending on it. It was a mark, but also a warning.
"I'm heading out. See you at the academy," he called into the house.
"See you later," Izumi replied just as loudly, from her room.
Naruto stepped outside, closing the door behind him.
Out on the street, everything looked normal. Kids running around, people heading to work, vendors setting up stalls. But there was a difference he felt without effort. As he walked, no one dared to meet his eyes. It wasn't true respect—it was fear mixed with recognition. Naruto had been considered the best student in the academy since its founding. Automatically, no one wanted to end up on his bad side.
He didn't care. He simply kept walking calmly, as if all of it were background noise.
Sometimes, it was better that way. Too many stares caused problems. People getting involved caused problems too.
*System, show me my points.*
[Of course]
[Current point total: 213,000]
Naruto registered the number without changing his expression. That amount came from the remaining Sharingan points, and the rest he had exchanged for ryō himself. It was curious how money could be so mundane and yet so powerful. With money, you bought information. With information, you bought advantage. And with advantage, you shaped the world.
He kept a steady pace, but his mind was already projecting a bit ahead. *The mission in the Land of Waves should happen in about a month, and that will be the moment to make a fortune.* It wasn't greed for the shine of money. It was planning. Stability. The difference between depending on others and not depending at all.
At that moment, his thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice—deep and filled with impatience.
*I want to go out for a bit.*
Kurama's voice echoed in his mind.
Naruto almost laughed, but held it in. He was in the middle of the street. He couldn't afford to react strangely. *I'm in the middle of the street. Do you want to give the villagers heart attacks?* he replied mentally, dryly, like someone already used to certain demands.
Kurama snorted, and Naruto felt the irritation as a vibration deep in his chest. *Fine. But you're going to let me stay out for an entire night.*
Naruto sighed internally. Kurama had far too much personality for someone who had been imprisoned for so long. And for some reason, the more freedom Naruto gave her, the more demanding the fox became. Still, Naruto understood. Being trapped was constant torture. Even a little air became an addiction.
*Fine,* Naruto conceded—not because he was being manipulated, but because there was a promise, and he didn't forget promises.
Kurama snorted again and fell silent, as if satisfied, as if the victory were hers.
Naruto kept walking. His body stayed in motion, but his mind naturally revisited what had happened months earlier.
Four months ago, Naruto had managed to fulfill his promise to the fox—at least partially. It hadn't been simple. It hadn't been fast. It was the kind of work that demanded persistence and patience, two things Naruto had learned the hard way, because no one else would do it for him.
After a long time and many clones invested in studying fuinjutsu, he had managed to create a binding seal. A seal that allowed Kurama to materialize in the world in a smaller form, as long as she didn't go beyond a distance of twenty meters. If she did, the seal would lose effect and she would be sealed again.
It wasn't complete freedom, and Kurama knew that. But it was something. It was a step. And for a being who had spent so long being treated like a weapon, that already had value.
Since then, their relationship had improved, though it was still somewhat complicated, given the fox's personality. Kurama was proud, resentful, explosive—and at the same time, surprisingly sensitive when it came to her own dignity. Naruto wasn't a therapist. He didn't have infinite patience. He just had a kind of honesty that didn't offer charity, but also didn't inflict cruelty without reason.
Naruto let out a short, ironic thought, almost automatic.
*Tsch, tsundere fox.*
With that complaint lingering in his mind, he headed toward the academy, feeling the weight of the morning and the day's expectations settling on his shoulders. Teams would be announced. Paths would be defined.
And he was certain of one thing: the world could try to push him into Konoha's script—but he was no longer at a point where he would accept the script without rewriting the pages.
(Early access chapters: see the bio.)