"Hahahaha…"
Back in his study space, Naruto laughed so hard he rolled on the floor.
Thinking back on everything that happened with the big fox tonight, he just couldn't stop smiling.
Too funny—he never expected that big fox to be such a tsundere.
He couldn't help recalling all the classic tsundere characters he'd seen in the shows he'd watched lately. All of them said "no" with their mouths, but their bodies were always painfully honest.
And now it turned out the Nine-Tails also had the "smells good" trait—like that guy Wang Jingze in the variety show Metamorphosis Naruto had watched not long ago. The similarity was uncanny.
Which gave Naruto all the confidence in the world.
Based on experience, the best way to deal with tsundere types was to chip away at that pride using pure sincerity. As long as you didn't cross their bottom line, you could pretty much do whatever you wanted afterward.
And clearly, today's method worked.
Next step? Keep going until the mission was complete!
After he laughed himself out, Naruto pulled himself together and started studying.
He'd already wasted a lot of time tonight—no more slacking.
Sure, getting that big fox to stop messing with his chakra was important. But gaining knowledge and sharpening his mind was equally crucial. He couldn't afford to fall behind on that.
Before he knew it, the night passed.
As the sun rose, Naruto woke up right on schedule.
After washing up and eating breakfast, he did something he hadn't done in over a year—he didn't go into his study space to daydream-study. Instead, he grabbed a lunchbox, tucked Shuriken Throwing: From Beginner to Master under his arm, and headed out the door.
It had been more than a year since he last went out in the daytime.
Unsurprisingly, Konoha's villagers greeted him with the same old "warmth"—a full buffet of cold, hateful, disgusted, and even murderous stares.
The weight of those looks sat heavy on his chest.
But he didn't say anything.
These people who took their anger out on him didn't care how he felt or what he had to say. They didn't want an explanation—they just needed someone to blame.
So Naruto sped up, crossing half the village to reach a quiet forest on the outskirts.
Eventually, he stopped in a clearing by a stream.
He set his lunchbox off to the side, then launched straight into the physical training exercises he'd learned yesterday, pushing himself until his limbs were jelly.
Exhausted, he slumped against a tree to rest and cracked open Shuriken Throwing: From Beginner to Master.
The book broke down the proper throwing techniques for common ninja tools like kunai, shuriken, and senbon, explaining how to generate the most power and how to predict where your weapon would land for maximum accuracy.
It also included tactics for dealing with incoming projectiles—when to block, when to dodge, and how to avoid getting skewered.
He read until he felt recovered, then went back to training.
Rinse and repeat.
Except for a short break at noon to eat his packed lunch, Naruto didn't stop.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, he'd finished the entire book cover to cover.
He tried tossing some stones like shuriken to get a feel for the technique, but he was dead tired. Covered in sweat and dust, he finally called it a day and headed home.
He timed it just as the village was at its busiest.
People were off work, out enjoying their evening lives.
As expected, Naruto once again received a flurry of disgusted glares.
But this time, he didn't even flinch.
He'd braced for it this morning. With no hope, there was no disappointment.
Back home, he washed up, changed into clean clothes, and didn't even bother cooking. He just reheated some leftovers from breakfast and called it dinner.
He wasn't even fully at his usual bedtime when he collapsed into bed and fell asleep.
Inside the study space, even though his body was wrecked from all the training, Naruto's spirit had bounced back the moment it separated from his physical form.
But despite the recovery, he sprawled lazily across the couch, not wanting to move.
Those cold stares… that hate…
He still couldn't let it go.
A song began to play softly in the space:
"Run forward, into the scorn and ridicule.
Only by suffering can we feel life's vastness.
Fate cannot force us to our knees…"
Naruto listened quietly.
At some point, two silent streams of tears ran down his cheeks.
But he didn't feel sad.
The heavy emotions in his chest began to fade with the music, like fog lifting from a mountainside.
What remained… was confusion.
Then a quote from Mencius appeared before him, the words repeating gently:
"When Heaven is about to place a great responsibility on a person,
it first tests their resolve, exhausts their body, starves them,
leaves them with nothing, and frustrates every step,
all to strengthen their will, refine their nature, and prepare them for greatness."
Reading it over and over, Naruto's confusion finally faded.
"I will become a powerful ninja—so powerful no one will ever dare look at me like that again."
For the first time, a clear goal bloomed in Naruto's heart.
Wiping away his tears, he appeared once more in the seal space—beaming with a bright grin.
"Yo, Big Fox! Good evening! Ready to watch tonight's episode together?"
Without waiting for a reply, he ran over to the TV and popped the memory card back in.
What is wrong with this kid?
The Nine-Tails blinked. Seeing that bright smile on Naruto's face, it couldn't help but wonder.
It had kept an eye on things today out of sheer boredom—it knew the brat wasn't in a good mood.
A kid who normally cooked full meals had half-heartedly reheated leftovers for dinner? Yeah, that wasn't hard to read.
But now? That mood was gone.
And the Nine-Tails didn't sense any of that negative emotion anymore.
Guess he was actually fine.
"Ahh, been feeling down all day… Finally, time to watch The Investiture of the Gods! I've been dying to see what happens next!"
The fox had just thought the same thing… when its face slowly twisted into a snarl.
Because the TV wasn't playing The Investiture of the Gods.
It was playing… Calabash Brothers.
An old cartoon. About seven gourd-shaped kids.
…This little brat.