The Nine-Tails chewed its chicken mechanically, each bite flavorless and unsatisfying.
When it finished, it looked around for Naruto. The boy had already moved to a different clearing, starting his training routine.
That human brat said I don't know how to cook. The thought rankled. Should I bother learning? I'm an ancient demon fox. Cooking is beneath me.
But being looked down upon by a seven-year-old stung more than it should.
The fox's gaze drifted to the grass nearby. A book lay there, abandoned.
It stared at the book for a long moment.
Then, with elaborate casualness, the Nine-Tails wandered over. Just to look. Pure curiosity. Nothing more.
The cover read: Become a Master Chef in 30 Days
Beneath the title, photographs showed exquisitely plated dishes. Roasted meats glistening with glaze. Vegetables arranged in artistic patterns. Soups so clear they reflected like mirrors.
The Nine-Tails' stomach rumbled despite having just eaten.
It flipped open the cover.
Page after page revealed techniques, measurements, timing charts. The images were stunning—food that looked almost too beautiful to eat. The descriptions made the fox's mouth water.
If I could make dishes like these... that human brat would be speechless with shock.
The mental image of Naruto's stunned expression made the Nine-Tails' tails wag involuntarily.
It settled down to read more carefully, one paw holding the pages open.
Across the clearing, Naruto stood on fresh grass, breathing slowly and deeply.
His body adjusted into the first position of the Iron Body Technique. Hands spread wide. Back straight. Knees slightly bent.
The moment he locked into the proper stance, every muscle in his body engaged.
Blood roared through his veins like rapids. His muscles vibrated at high frequency, creating a crackling sound like popping joints.
This is just the beginning level. Not even circulating internal energy yet. Just physical conditioning.
[Remember, Naruto. This technique works on multiple levels. First, the body surface. Then blood and energy circulation. Finally, cellular transformation. You're starting from the very bottom.]
The starting position had nine variations, each slightly different, each targeting different muscle groups.
Naruto flowed into the second variation.
Pain lanced through his shoulders. He gritted his teeth and held the position.
Third variation. His legs trembled.
Fourth variation. Sweat poured down his face despite the cool air.
Fifth variation.
His body gave out.
Naruto crashed to the ground, gasping. Every muscle screamed in protest. His tendons felt like they'd been tied in knots and set on fire.
He tried to push himself up. His arms wouldn't respond.
Cold sweat dripped from his forehead, darkening the grass beneath him.
System... I thought I'd completed foundation building. Why does this hurt so much?
[Without the elemental tempering, attempting even one position would have killed you instantly. Your body would have literally torn itself apart. As it is, you can barely manage five variations of the simplest position. This technique is incredibly demanding, Naruto. Progress will be slow.]
Naruto lay there panting, staring at the sky.
Nine variations just for the starting position. And there were eighty-one total positions to master at the beginner level. Each position had progressively more variations.
I've got a long way to go.
After an hour of rest and medicine, he forced himself up and tried again.
And again.
By sunset, he'd finally completed all nine variations of the starting position without collapsing.
The improvement was subtle but real—his control felt sharper, his muscles responded more precisely.
Progress was progress.
Three hundred meters away, two ANBU operatives watched through binoculars.
"What's he doing?" Wolf asked. "Some kind of stretching routine?"
"Could be a taijutsu warmup." Hawk shrugged. "He's been at it for hours though. Dedication, at least."
Neither could see the miniature Nine-Tails studiously reading a cookbook in the shade. The system made sure of that.
Dinner was noticeably better than lunch.
The Nine-Tails had clearly been practicing. The meat was properly seasoned, cooked evenly, and actually tasted good.
Naruto ate three servings, complimenting each bite enthusiastically. The fox tried to look indifferent but its tails wagged with barely suppressed pride.
After eating, Naruto headed home with the miniature fox perched on his shoulder.
Once there, he showered thoroughly. Couldn't visit Grandpa Third covered in sweat and grime. That would be disrespectful.
Clean, dressed, and presentable, Naruto made his way through Konoha's evening streets toward the Hokage's residence.
Hiruzen Sarutobi opened his door to find Naruto standing there, looking unusually formal.
The Hokage's eye twitched. The boy was nearly as tall as him already, and built like a young chunin. In a few more years, I'll need to look up to talk to him.
"Naruto! What brings you by?"
"I need to ask you something, Grandpa Third."
"Of course, of course. Come in." Hiruzen stepped aside, gesturing welcomingly.
Inside, Hiruzen prepared tea with practiced motions, setting out small cakes and cookies. He treated Naruto like any beloved grandchild, with no trace of the authority he wielded as Hokage.
Naruto accepted the tea and took a sip. "Grandpa Third, I'd like permission to use the back mountain."
"The back mountain?" Hiruzen's cup paused halfway to his lips. "Whatever for?"
And now that I think about it, Iruka's been reporting that Naruto keeps skipping class. His grades are abysmal. Where does he disappear to?
"I want to start a farm. Raise cattle and sheep."
Hiruzen choked on his tea.
"COUGH—COUGH—COUGH!"
Naruto jumped up and patted the old man's back until he could breathe again.
"Farming?" Hiruzen wheezed. "You want to raise livestock?"
"Yes. Cattle and sheep specifically."
"But... why?" Hiruzen stared at the earnest seven-year-old in front of him. "What made you think of this?"
"Because they're cute."
"Cute." Hiruzen's brain struggled to process this. Cattle and sheep. Cute. "They're... certainly something."
"Please, Grandpa!" Naruto grabbed the old man's arm and shook it with puppydog eyes. "Please say yes!"
[This technique works remarkably well on older males,] the system had advised.
[Use it sparingly for maximum effect.]
The shaking intensified. Hiruzen's entire body rocked back and forth, his tea sloshing dangerously.
Dear god, this child has the strength of a chunin. He's going to shake my arm off.
"Okay! Okay! I agree!" Hiruzen gasped. "You can have the back mountain!"
"Thank you!" Naruto released him immediately, beaming.
Hiruzen rubbed his shoulder, wincing. Then his expression grew serious.
"Naruto." His tone shifted, taking on weight. "I need to discuss something with you."
Naruto straightened, sensing the change in atmosphere.
"Iruka reports that you've been skipping school. Your attendance is poor, and your grades..." Hiruzen sighed. "Do you remember what you told me when I walked you to the Academy?"
"I said I'd become an excellent ninja. That I'd study hard."
"Then why aren't you attending class?" Hiruzen's voice remained gentle but firm. "Even at my age, I study every day. Learning never stops. If I didn't continue improving myself, I couldn't serve as Hokage. How do you expect to become strong without education?"
Naruto's head bowed. "I'm sorry, Grandpa Third. I know I was wrong."
I was wrong to get caught, he added mentally. But I can't exactly explain that I'm pursuing a completely different path to strength. One that has nothing to do with chakra or jutsu.
He knew what they called him at school. Saw the labels forming:
Dead-last. Muscle-head. All brawn, no brain.
Let them think that. Let them underestimate him.
His true training would continue in secret.
"See that you do better." Hiruzen's expression softened. He ruffled Naruto's hair affectionately. "I believe in you. Don't make me regret giving you that back mountain."
"I won't! Thank you, Grandpa!"
Naruto left with permission secured and his cover story intact.
At home, he scooped up the Nine-Tails—currently reading a chapter on knife skills—and flopped onto his bed.
The fox was warm and soft and extremely pettable.
Life was looking up.
He had land for farming. A demon fox learning to cook. The beginnings of real power growing in his body.
And somewhere in Konoha, people were starting to notice him.
Even if they only noticed the labels.
That was fine.
Labels could be changed.
Naruto closed his eyes, one hand buried in impossibly soft orange fur, and smiled.