Natasha Romanoff's apartment, nestled in the heart of Manhattan, was an eclectic blend of spartan functionality and surprising personal touches. World maps pinned to the wall sat alongside books on philosophy and classic literature. There was a lingering scent of coffee—and, curiously, disinfectant. Naruto, accustomed to the vast cosmic expanses of the Source, found the confined space oddly comforting. The city stretched out beneath their windows, a carpet of twinkling lights—a striking contrast to the ethereal skies he had traversed.
"Make yourself at home, Naruto," Natasha said, motioning to a worn leather couch. She tossed her keys onto a small coffee table and shrugged off her jacket, her movements fluid and precise. "I need to file a quick report, but after that, we can talk."
Naruto sat down, his cosmic eyes scanning every corner of the room, absorbing the details like microprocessors. He saw the concealed surveillance cameras, the reinforcements behind the door frames, the weapons discreetly stashed away. He understood that this woman lived a life of constant danger—a life where trust was a luxury rarely granted.
Natasha grabbed a secured phone and stepped away slightly, murmuring codes and names that Naruto didn't recognize. He picked up fragments of the conversation: "neutralized… unknown abilities… file 'Nightwatch'…" He realized he was the subject of her report, and yet he felt no irritation. He was an anomaly, and Natasha's instinct was to analyze, to understand.
When she returned, her expression was a mix of curiosity and weariness.
"So, Naruto," she began, sitting down across from him, "can you tell me exactly what you are? Because what you did to those guys… that wasn't normal."
Naruto nodded.
"I've become an extension of the Source. Imagine a central point of energy, of consciousness, of creation itself. That's her. And I've merged with her."
Natasha crossed her arms, skeptical yet fascinated.
"The Source. Like… God?"
"Not exactly. Not in the way humans understand it. The Source is existence itself. It doesn't judge, it doesn't punish. It simply is. And it granted me its attributes so I could, in its words, 'find what I'm searching for.'" Naruto paused. "Love. And to be loved."
Natasha sighed. "So, you're basically… a cosmic messiah on a quest for a relationship?"
Naruto tilted his head. "If that helps you understand, sure. Though 'messiah' implies a mission of salvation. I'm mostly here to learn."
"And you stayed twelve years in this cosmic dimension. So how old are you, in human terms?"
"My current body appears to be twenty-four," Naruto replied. "But time in the Source works differently. I've lived and learned through eons of existence. Billions of years of experience, condensed into what you perceive as twelve years."
Natasha narrowed her eyes. "Billions of years… and you're here so I can teach you how to love?"
"You're the first person to offer me that possibility. The Source guided me to you," Naruto said with disarming simplicity. "It showed me your… potential to teach me. Your unique ability to understand loneliness and the desire for connection."
A shadow passed over Natasha's face. Loneliness—she knew it well. It had been her lifelong companion.
"I'm a spy, Naruto. My job is to manipulate. To lie. I'm not exactly the love expert you're hoping for."
"But you understand emptiness. The need to be seen for who you truly are, beyond the masks. And you're capable of empathy, even if you hide it well," Naruto countered, his cosmic eyes seeming to pierce right through her defenses. "That's enough. I don't expect perfection. Just authenticity."
Natasha felt exposed. This man—this strange being—saw her more clearly than most people she'd known for years.
"All right," she said, standing up and heading toward the kitchen. "So, what do you want to learn first? The basics of flirting? How to spot a broken heart?"
Naruto smiled—a real smile—that lit up his face and made his eyes shimmer. "How to be a good person. How to understand emotions. How to interact with others without overwhelming them with my… uniqueness. And how to love without destroying."
Natasha handed him a steaming cup of tea. "Good answer. We'll start with the basics. Rule number one: Don't tell people you're a cosmic entity capable of bending reality to your will. That tends to freak them out."
Naruto took a sip. The hot liquid was a new sensation—pleasant. "Understood. Secret. I am a ninja, after all. Even if I failed my exam." A flicker of sadness crossed his eyes.
Natasha caught it. "A ninja? Explain."
Naruto told her about his childhood in Konoha—the hatred, the rejection, the isolation. He spoke of Iruka, the only one who ever believed in him. He talked about the failed exam, the swing, and the despair that led him to his journey toward the Source. He hid nothing—his words were simple and direct, free of self-pity.
Natasha listened carefully, a growing empathy in her eyes. She understood that feeling—being an outsider, being seen as a weapon or a burden rather than a person. "So, you were a rejected child. And now, you have unlimited power. That's usually a recipe for revenge, you know."
"I don't want that," Naruto replied. "The Source showed me the futility of hatred. Revenge doesn't heal. It doesn't create. It only feeds the cycle of pain. I've had time to think about these things. My desire isn't to get revenge on Konoha, but to find a new kind of connection."
Natasha stood and walked to the window, watching the endless traffic. "That's a remarkable perspective, given what you've been through. Most people, with far less power than you, would've turned into tyrants."
"I'm not like most people," Naruto said with a hint of humor. "I don't feel anger or bitterness the same way anymore. The Source gave me a broader vision. Every being is part of the whole. To harm one is to harm the whole."
In the days and weeks that followed, Natasha began Naruto's education in the human world. She taught him how to navigate the crowded streets of New York without drawing attention, how to use money, how to understand social cues and idiomatic expressions. Naruto absorbed everything with astonishing speed. His Eyes of Origin allowed him to grasp the subtleties of body language, micro-expressions, and the hidden intentions behind words. He read people like open books.
"When someone says 'I'm fine' with a forced smile and empty eyes, it usually means they're not fine at all," Natasha explained during one of their "lessons" in a noisy café. "It's a form of self-protection. Humans are afraid to show weakness."
Naruto observed the café patrons, testing his new knowledge. He could see the unspoken tensions, the underlying fears, the silent hopes. It was a cacophony of emotions for him, but he was learning to filter them, to understand them without being overwhelmed.
"It's fascinating," he said. "There are so many layers, so many masks. And yet, the Source showed me that every being ultimately seeks the same things: happiness, connection, and meaning."
Natasha looked at him with a small smile. "You sound like a cosmic psychologist. But you're right. That's the essence of humanity."
She took him to museums, where Naruto gazed at the art with a unique perspective, seeing the energy and intention behind every brushstroke. She brought him to parks, where he observed families, lovers, and friends—scenes that felt both foreign to him and deeply desirable.