"Ninjas must stay calm and judge carefully. Those who break the rules are trash… but those who abandon their comrades are even worse than trash."
Kakashi's voice echoed through the training ground, carrying the weight of experience. Sakura's eyes burned with determination beside him, and Sasuke—well, Sasuke was being Sasuke, trying his best to look cool even while drenched in sweat.
Naruto, watching his teammates, couldn't help but grin. There was something satisfying about it—seeing them all together, arguing, stumbling, and somehow growing stronger.
So these are my companions, he thought. The ones I can entrust my back to. And…
A faint image flashed through his mind—a slender figure wrapped in sunlight, the one tied to his promise. The one I swore to protect.
He muttered it under his breath, voice too soft for even Kakashi's sharp hearing.
Then, snapping back to reality, he frowned. "By the way, Kakashi-sensei—what did you mean earlier? You said my Flying Raijin Jutsu isn't a weakness. So… what is it then?"
The question lingered. The bell test replayed in his head—the shuriken traps, the tags, the explosions—and how close he'd been to actually taking the bells from Kakashi. If not for Sakura collapsing at the end, maybe...
Sasuke's sharp eyes flicked toward him. "Flying Raijin Jutsu?" he repeated, voice steady but edged with curiosity. He'd been dying to ask about that technique for weeks. They'd trained together long enough that jealousy wasn't the issue—but pride was. The idea of Naruto outpacing him again stung like salt on an open wound.
Even Sakura leaned closer, listening. She still remembered how Naruto had whisked her across the training field in a blink—one instant she'd been surrounded by traps, and the next she was standing safely a kilometer away beside him. It had been terrifying and exhilarating at once.
Kakashi let out a rare sigh, one that carried the dust of old memories. "Flying Raijin Jutsu… huh. That was the Fourth Hokage's masterpiece. A unique space–time ninjutsu—one of a kind."
His tone softened with nostalgia, then hardened again. "But listen carefully. Inquiring about another ninja's techniques without permission is a serious taboo in our world. Especially in front of me. You three rookies have a lot to learn."
The words hit like a shuriken to the ego. Sakura blinked, confused. "There's… a rule about that?"
Kakashi nodded. "It's not written, but every shinobi knows it. Keep your cards hidden, or you won't last long."
Naruto crossed his arms, defiant. "It's fine, Kakashi-sensei. We're teammates, right? We should know a little about each other's strengths if we're gonna fight together."
Kakashi tilted his head, then chuckled under his mask. "You're not wrong. During the wars, understanding your squad's abilities was essential. The problem is when you start asking the wrong people at the wrong time."
He shot a meaningful glance at Sasuke and Sakura. "So, just be careful. Ask your comrades—but not strangers. Especially not someone who might kill you for it."
"Got it, sensei," Sakura said quickly, straightening up. Sasuke gave a curt nod beside her.
Kakashi's single visible eye curved in amusement. "Good. And since Naruto's already revealed it, yes—the Flying Raijin is famous enough that everyone's heard of it. Not exactly top secret anymore."
Naruto twitched. "Then why act so serious about it just now?"
Sakura's cheeks puffed. "Sensei! You were totally messing with us!"
Kakashi shrugged innocently. "I said don't ask carelessly. I didn't say never ask. There's a difference."
Naruto's eyes narrowed in thought. "No… that's not what he meant." His tone turned colder, quieter. "He said rookies and for now. Meaning, it's taboo for the weak. Not for the strong. Once you're strong enough, no one cares what you ask or what you take. The strong don't get punished—they set the rules."
The training ground went silent.
Even Sasuke's stoic expression faltered. Sakura's face drained of color.
Naruto's voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp. "That's what the ninja world really is. A world built on strength. The weak survive by following rules the strong made… and the strong survive by breaking them."
For a long moment, Kakashi said nothing. The faint breeze rustled the trees, scattering a few dry leaves across the ground.
Naruto already knew the truth. He'd read it between the lines of every mission report, every whispered story—Anbu assassinations, cover-ups, whole villages wiped clean, Orochimaru's experiments, human sacrifices to summon beasts like Manda. It wasn't peace. It was order, maintained by fear.
This was the shinobi world. The law of the jungle—wrapped in a headband.