After weeks of hints and quiet indoctrination, Mizuki judged the time ripe.
He could tell: even if Naruto acted noncommittal on the surface, those blue eyes burned hotter every day with curiosity about "forbidden arts" and "greater power."
After school, he summoned Naruto alone to a small grove behind the academy.
No one came here. Perfect for the final push.
"Naruto," Mizuki said, face solemn in a way he'd never worn before, "after this time observing you, I'm sure—you are a once-in-a-century prodigy of Konoha. Your capacity is far beyond this."
Naruto blinked, not quite following.
Mizuki drew a slow breath and tossed out his sharpest bait.
"Naruto, do you want… a kind of power?"
"A power that would let you surpass your father in a single night?"
Surpass Father?
The four words fit a hidden keyhole and turned—opening a door in Naruto's heart he'd never showed anyone.
Minato was his father, his greatest hero.
He was also a mountain so high it blotted the sun.
No matter how brilliantly Naruto performed, no matter how many top marks he racked up, every voice added the same tag: "As expected of the Fourth Hokage's son."
All his light seemed to fall under the shadow of his father.
He dreamed of the day people would point at Minato and say: "Look—that's Naruto's father!"
Not the other way around.
That pure, stubborn urge to surpass one's father—boyish and fierce—surged up.
Mizuki caught the flicker in Naruto's eyes.
Hook set.
"Mizuki-sensei… what kind of power are you talking about?" Naruto's voice came out dry.
"The one I told you about—the Book of Seals!" Mizuki's tone swelled, fervent. "It records the ultimate forbidden techniques inherited from the First and Second Hokage! If you can get it and learn even one jutsu from inside, your strength will jump a whole tier!"
"Imagine it, Naruto," Mizuki's voice grew honeyed, "at the next family gathering—you use a forbidden art your father has never even seen. How shocked he'll be! How proud!"
"Everyone will admit it then. You—Naruto—won't need anyone's halo. You'll be you. The strongest, one of a kind."
Naruto's breathing quickened.
The picture Mizuki painted was too tempting.
Stealing the Book of Seals was wrong.
But…
But to see Father stunned—to make big bro look at him with fresh eyes…
"But… the Book of Seals is in the Hokage's office. Guarded tight. How am I supposed to get it?" Naruto voiced the fear.
"Heh—" Mizuki laughed lightly. "Naruto, your father was the Fourth Hokage. Who knows the building's defenses better than him? Go to him tonight—act spoiled, ask him to teach you a few stealth tricks, and figure out the weakest time window for the office's security. For you, child's play."
He "kindly" pointed out the path.
Naruto fell into a long silence.
A war raged in his chest.
Reason said: trap.
That blazing will to surpass Father burned like a grassfire.
In the end, the blaze won.
"…I understand, Mizuki-sensei." Naruto lifted his head; his eyes had hardened. "I'll move tonight."
Mizuki's heart sang; his face stayed calm. "Good. Once you have the scroll, go to Training Ground Seven on the north side. I'll be waiting. I'll personally guide you through the first forbidden technique."
"It's a promise."
As Naruto's figure receded, a feral, greedy smile finally twisted Mizuki's lips.
"So easy to use, that foolish brat."
"The Book of Seals will be mine soon!"
He didn't know—
Every word of that conversation went out live through a charm resting on Naruto's chest—handmade by Shinju—etched with micro-eavesdropping arrays and chakra fluctuation sensors, streaming straight into the Namikaze study.
There, a mirror of rippling water—woven by Water Release—showed the grove in crisp detail.
Minato stared at Mizuki's ugly mouth moving in the water-mirror, his face dark as iron. Cold killing intent bled off him in waves.
"That bastard dares seduce my son!"
Chakra surged. He was a breath from marking and flashing in with Hiraishin no Jutsu (Flying Thunder God Technique) to cut Mizuki down.
"Father. Cool your head."
Across from him, Shinju sipped tea, as if watching a play unrelated to himself.
"A fish rushing the hook. Not worth anger."
"But he used Naruto!" Minato snapped.
"Good, isn't it?" Shinju set the cup down, eyes amused. "A bad thing—but useful in its way. A live-combat lesson. Let him taste the malice of men firsthand. No harm in that."
"And…" Shinju looked at Minato. "Don't you want to see how far Naruto's stealth has really come?"
Minato paused—then understood.
The killing edge receded.
"You mean… turn his plan back on him?"
"Of course." Shinju smiled. "The script's written, the actors in place. As for us—pick good seats and enjoy the show."
Minato's mouth tugged into a helpless, fond curve.
His eldest was about to make art again.
That night, when the village slept—
A small shadow ghosted onto the Hokage building's roof.
Naruto.
He wore a black night outfit, only the moonlit blue of his eyes uncovered.
He studied the ANBU patterns below, mapping their routes and the blind seams in their sensory net.
Minato had turned it into a "game" in training. Naruto played it well.
He exhaled. Then he moved—light as a falling leaf.
Wall-hug.
He slid into the shadow seam, passing a patrol without catching a single glance.
Flash-step.
He took the 1.5-second overlap between two patrols and slipped like a civet into a vent shaft.
Breath-lock.
In the cramped duct, he slowed heart and lungs to a winter snake's crawl.
Roll-dissipate.
He dropped from the far grate, tucking into a forward roll that bled all impact away.
Silent landing.
No wasted motion. No stray chakra.
The veteran ANBU inside never felt a ripple.
Back in the Namikaze study—
The water-mirror showed every frame.
Minato watched those absurdly polished movements and made a face equal parts pride and exasperation.
"This kid… looks a lot like me back then."
"Transitions are smooth," Shinju murmured. "Timing's still a little green. But for ANBU who haven't even raised a sensory barrier—more than enough."
Soon, Naruto ghosted into the Hokage's office.
He stared at his father's desk, a tremor of excitement in his chest.
Following Mizuki's "hint," he opened a hidden seam in the shelves and pulled free a scroll half his height.
The Book of Seals.
He hefted it onto his shoulder, grinning despite himself.
He didn't know his every move played, crystal clear, before his father and brother.
"He has it," Minato said.
"Mm." Shinju nodded. "The fish, bait in mouth, is swimming to the fisherman."
"Father, let's draw the net."
"Have ANBU 'discover' the theft."
"Curtain up."
(End of Chapter)
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