Hiruzen Sarutobi's visit had been brief but memorable. His massage technique was surprisingly skilled. If he wasn't Hokage, he could make a fortune at the bathhouse, Naruto thought with amusement.
The rest of the day passed in familiar rhythm. Training. Medicine. Recovery.
By the time Naruto trudged home, darkness had fallen over Konoha. Families strolled through the streets, parents and children walking together, talking and laughing. Warm light spilled from windows. The smell of cooking dinners drifted on the evening air.
Naruto watched them pass, something tight forming in his chest.
Then he pushed through his door and got to work.
Firewood needed chopping. Water needed boiling. He hauled the heavy pot to the bath barrel and poured carefully, steam rising in clouds. The medicinal powder he had prepared went in next, turning the water a pale green.
Naruto stripped off his clothes and examined his reflection in the darkened window. Lean muscle, clearly defined. No excess fat. He flexed experimentally. Strong. Getting stronger every day.
He sank into the barrel with a groan of relief.
Hot water closed over his shoulders, neck-deep and perfect. Every muscle in his body seemed to sigh at once. The day's pain melted away, replaced by warmth and the tingling sensation of the medicine working its way through his skin.
This is heaven.
A coin could bounce off the floor right now and he wouldn't move. Nothing could make him leave this barrel.
An hour later, pruned and thoroughly relaxed, Naruto climbed out and dried off. He pulled on clean clothes and settled onto his bed with a book.
Medical texts surrounded him. The Encyclopedia of Medicinal Herbs he'd already read cover to cover. Now the system was having him study surgical techniques, anatomical diagrams, treatment protocols for various injuries.
[On the path of Ultimate Taijutsu, injuries are inevitable,]
the system had explained.
[The more you understand about the body, the better you can heal it. Besides, most injuries will come from your own training, not from opponents. If you're getting hurt in actual combat, you're doing something wrong.]
Naruto flipped through a chapter on bone setting. The illustrations were detailed, almost uncomfortably so. He studied them carefully, committing the information to memory.
Two hours passed. Outside, frogs croaked in the darkness. Insects chirped their night songs.
Naruto yawned and set the book aside. Tomorrow was important.
Tomorrow, he started at the Ninja Academy.
Seven years old. Old enough for school.
He tried to imagine what it would be like for a normal kid. Parents buying new school supplies. A fresh backpack. Pencils, notebooks, maybe even a special lunch. Family members walking you to your first day, offering encouragement and advice.
The child would smile. Feel excited. Loved.
Naruto stared at the ceiling of his empty apartment.
No one would walk him to school. No one would buy him supplies. He had a notebook and a pencil he'd saved up for. That would have to be enough.
I'm just an orphan. The demon brat. Why would anyone care about my first day of school?
He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, pushing the thoughts away.
Sleep came slowly.
Morning arrived like it always did.
Naruto's eyes opened before dawn, internal clock precise after two years of rigid routine. He couldn't sleep late anymore even if he wanted to.
He washed, dressed, ate a quick breakfast of rice and dried fish. Then he picked up his notebook and pencil, tucking them under his arm.
Ready as he'd ever be.
He stepped outside and paused.
The old tree in front of his building had sprouted new leaves. Morning dew clung to the fresh growth, droplets catching the early sunlight and glowing like tiny gems.
Down the street, a boy around Naruto's age stood in front of his house. Brand new clothes. Brand new shoes. A huge smile on his face. Behind him, his parents and what looked like an aunt or grandmother fussed over him, adjusting his collar, handing him a backpack, whispering advice.
The scene looked warm. Happy. Complete.
Naruto's gaze dropped to his feet. The tight feeling returned to his chest.
"Naruto!"
His head snapped up.
Hiruzen Sarutobi sat beneath a tree at the corner, morning light filtering through the branches above him. His weathered face wore a grandfatherly smile. In his hands, he held something pink and shiny.
A backpack.
"Grandpa Third?" Naruto's voice came out surprised, almost disbelieving.
"I came to see you off on your first day." Hiruzen stood, holding up the backpack. "Come here. Let's see if it fits."
Naruto approached slowly, staring at the bag. "Grandpa, that's... it's pink."
"Hmm? So it is."
"I'm a boy."
"I'm aware." Hiruzen's smile didn't waver. "Turn around. Arms out."
"But pink is—"
"It was the last one in the store. Unless you'd prefer to carry your supplies in your hands all day?" Hiruzen's eyebrow arched in challenge.
Naruto sighed and turned around, extending his arms. The backpack settled onto his shoulders. Hiruzen adjusted the straps, tugging them tighter.
"Feels a bit tight..."
"Hmm." Hiruzen walked in a slow circle around him, examining. He loosened one strap slightly, tightened another. "There. Perfect."
"Are you sure? Something feels off." Naruto tried to twist around to see his back, but couldn't get the angle right.
"Turn around a few times. Let me check."
Naruto rotated obediently.
"No, no, it's fine. Suits you, actually." Hiruzen nodded with satisfaction.
Well, if Grandpa Third says so...
"Thank you." Naruto's throat felt tight. "Really. Thank you for coming."
Hiruzen's hand settled on top of Naruto's head, ruffling his blonde hair. "Study hard. Make the most of this opportunity."
"I will!" Naruto nodded vigorously. "I'll become an excellent ninja! Strong enough that everyone will recognize me!"
He and the system had discussed this already. Ninja training was fine as far as it went, but the young man in the projection had been beyond anything the Academy could teach. Ultimate Taijutsu was the real path forward.
Still, no point mentioning that to Grandpa Third.
"Time to go. Don't want to be late." Hiruzen gestured toward the street.
"Right! Goodbye, Grandpa Third!" Naruto waved, then turned and started walking.
The pink backpack bounced against his shoulders. His head held high. His stride confident.
Morning sunlight painted everything golden.
Behind him, Hiruzen watched the boy walk away. Broad shoulders, strong back, determined gait. The tiny pink backpack looked absurd on his increasingly muscular frame.
The Nine-Tails' container, heading to the Academy. How will the other children react? How will the instructors treat him?
Hiruzen's eyes narrowed slightly. He'd have to monitor the situation carefully.
But watching Naruto disappear into the sunrise, shoulders back and head high despite everything life had thrown at him, the old Hokage felt something that might have been hope.
Perhaps this child would surprise everyone.