Why had Naruto in the "original story" looked so small and scrawny?
The answer was obvious.
Malnutrition.
Or rather—a body on the edge of being ruined.
For him to grow up healthy?
That would've been the real miracle.
Konoha itself could no longer be relied upon.
So, if he wanted to eat his fill, Naruto had to rely on his own hands.
That was why this forest became his first hunting ground.
In the beginning, when he was too weak to defend himself,
he only dared to gather wild greens and fruits from the outskirts.
But once he refined chakra for the first time—
and especially after entering the Academy—
his hunting range expanded rapidly.
Not just fish,
but crabs, rabbits, boars,
even the more ferocious beasts of the woods
all became his targets.
Sometimes, he even used those beasts as sparring partners.
And if worst came to worst?
There were always ANBU lurking in the shadows, watching over him.
With such a safety net,
Naruto trained and hunted without fear.
This way of life—
it solved his food problem
and doubled as training.
Why not kill two birds with one stone?
As for whether it was "allowed"?
Naruto couldn't care less.
Those ANBU surely reported every little detail back to the Third Hokage.
And with that old man's crystal ball constantly watching over the village—
if no one stopped him,
then it meant tacit approval.
The fish he caught,
Naruto usually turned into soup.
It was the best way to preserve flavor and nutrition.
Taste?
That didn't matter.
In these conditions, Naruto never fussed about food.
All that mattered was replenishing his body,
supporting his relentless training.
As for training tools—
some were supplied by the Academy.
The rest, he couldn't buy on his own.
But Iruka filled in the gaps.
Sometimes Iruka treated him to better meals.
Sometimes he quietly bought training gear for him,
refusing payment with nothing more than a gentle smile.
Iruka's feelings toward Naruto were complex—
a mix of pity, worry, lingering bitterness, and confusion.
But above all,
he never neglected his duty as a teacher.
And when their eyes met,
Naruto felt something unfamiliar,
yet undeniably warm.
It was one of the few rays of sunlight
that pierced through the shadows in his heart.
Thanks to this,
life grew smoother.
Training progressed steadily.
And the Academy—
turned out far better than he had expected.
The other children didn't look at him with hatred or fear.
Not yet.
After all, they still didn't know the truth.
And this Naruto, unlike the loudmouthed brat of the original story,
was quiet, steady, and… diligent.
He hid his true ability just enough.
Not the bottom of the class,
but never flaunting himself at the top.
In theory and written exams,
he consistently scored in the top five—
often first in pure knowledge.
Among the girls,
this earned him no small amount of popularity.
Of course, Number One in popularity
remained Sasuke Uchiha.
Good looks,
flawless test results,
and the prestige of being the son of the clan head.
It was inevitable.
Naruto?
He didn't care for "popularity."
He hid part of his strength not out of fear,
but because he didn't want to draw unnecessary attention.
As long as the Third Hokage lived,
Danzo couldn't touch him.
For that alone,
Naruto gave the old man a silent nod of gratitude—
though never aloud.
Besides, if Hiruzen Sarutobi was watching him from above,
Naruto needed to maintain the image of a hardworking boy.
Good grades were part of the act.
Hide just enough.
Blend in.
After all—
to most people,
there's little difference between second place and tenth.
Everyone only remembers the number one.
So the year passed,
quiet yet strangely fulfilling.
"Alright… time to give it another try."
After cooking himself a hearty lunch,
Naruto rested briefly,
then began his afternoon training.
Tree climbing.
Water walking.
He had made steady progress.
Neither too fast nor too slow—
just about average by shinobi standards.
The Naruto in the story seemed to learn these skills quickly,
but the truth was,
he'd already built up a rough foundation from years of reckless antics at the Academy.
Running on rooftops, crashing into things—
that, too, was chakra control,
if crude and instinctive.
So later, under Kakashi's or Ebisu's guidance,
his learning sped up.
That Naruto had relied purely on physical instinct.
This Naruto relied on his mind.
Yes, the body's natural reflexes were still there.
But more often,
he analyzed,
he thought.
Without guidance,
his progress was slower than in the original.
But it was solid.
Stable.
Step by step—
he was building his own way of training.