The Hokage's office had never felt so cold. Morning sunlight streamed through the windows with cheerful indifference to the tension filling the room, illuminating dust motes that drifted lazily through air that felt thick enough to choke on. Naruto stood in the center of that space, still wearing bandages from the previous night's fight, Iruka's forehead protector tied around his arm rather than his forehead because he couldn't quite bring himself to wear it properly yet.
Hiruzen sat behind his desk, and for the first time in Naruto's entire life, his grandfather's expression carried no warmth, no gentle understanding, no patient affection. The Hokage's face was carved from stone, his eyes hard in ways that made Naruto's stomach clench with genuine fear. This wasn't his grandfather. This was the God of Shinobi, the Professor, the village leader whose decisions shaped nations.
Asuma stood to one side, arms crossed, his usual cigarette absent. His jaw was tight, his disappointment radiating like heat from a forge. Even Iruka, who'd defended Naruto to the ANBU interrogators, who'd given him the forehead protector and called him a hero, looked troubled and uncertain standing near the office door.
The silence stretched until Naruto wanted to scream just to break it.
Finally, Hiruzen spoke. His voice was quiet, controlled, and somehow more terrifying than if he'd shouted. "Naruto. Do you understand the magnitude of what you've done?"
"I—" Naruto's voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I stole the Scroll of Seals. I know it was wrong, Grandpa, but—"
"Do not call me that right now." The words cut like a blade. "Right now, I am not your grandfather. I am the Hokage, and you are a shinobi who has committed treason against his village."
The formality, the distance in those words, hurt worse than any physical injury from the previous night. Naruto felt something crack inside his chest.
"The Scroll of Seals contains techniques that could devastate nations if they fell into the wrong hands," Hiruzen continued, each word precisely measured. "Forbidden jutsu that were sealed away because they're too dangerous for general knowledge. Secrets that enemy villages would kill for, that missing-nin would pay fortunes to acquire. And you, the Hokage's grandson—someone with access to the highest levels of village security—stole it based on the word of a traitor."
"I didn't know Mizuki-sensei was—"
"You didn't verify his claims. You didn't question why an Academy instructor would suggest stealing a forbidden scroll. You didn't consult with me or any other authority before breaking into my private study and taking something that doesn't belong to you." Hiruzen's hands were flat on his desk, his knuckles white. "Your status as my grandson makes this worse, not better. It suggests that family connection grants privilege to ignore rules, that those born to power can do as they please without consequence."
"Hokage-sama," Iruka interjected carefully, "with respect, Naruto was manipulated by someone in a position of trust. Mizuki specifically targeted him because of his chakra control issues, exploited his fears about tomorrow's examination. A child was deceived by an adult authority figure—surely that context matters?"
"Context explains. It does not excuse." Hiruzen's gaze didn't leave Naruto. "He's old enough to understand right from wrong. Old enough to know that stealing is wrong regardless of justification offered. Old enough to recognize that desperate situations require consultation with trustworthy adults, not criminal action."
Asuma shifted slightly, his voice carrying the gravel of someone deeply disappointed rather than merely angry. "Naruto, I've been training you for years. Teaching you discipline, judgment, the importance of thinking before acting. And what do you do? The moment I restrict your training for your own safety, you immediately escalate to stealing forbidden techniques? What were you thinking?"
"I was thinking I needed to fix my chakra!" The words burst out before Naruto could stop them. "I was thinking that tomorrow is the graduation exam and I can't control my energy and everyone's treating me like I'm about to explode and maybe Mizuki-sensei was right that I needed advanced techniques because nothing else was working!"
"So your response to having difficulty was to commit treason?" Asuma's voice rose slightly. "Your response to safety restrictions was to steal the most dangerous scroll in the village? That's not problem-solving, Naruto. That's reckless stupidity that could have gotten you killed!"
"Better than being treated like a bomb waiting to detonate!" Naruto shot back, his own voice rising to match. "Better than constant supervision and restrictions and everyone watching me like I'm dangerous! At least if I'd learned the technique I could have controlled—"
He stopped abruptly, the words dying in his throat as realization crashed over him. Controlled the Nine-Tails' chakra. That's what Mizuki had really been talking about, wasn't it? Not just his natural reserves, but the beast's influence. The foreign energy that leaked through when emotions ran high.
The anger drained out of him, replaced by something colder and more terrible.
"Hokage-sama," Iruka tried again, his voice gentle but firm, "Naruto successfully learned an A-rank technique in a matter of hours. He defeated a chūnin-level opponent despite being injured. He protected the scroll and prevented it from being stolen. Surely these accomplishments demonstrate that he's ready for—"
"They demonstrate that he's powerful," Hiruzen interrupted. "Power and readiness are not the same thing. Judgment, restraint, the wisdom to know when to act and when to seek guidance—these are what separate shinobi from weapons. And Naruto's actions last night showed a critical lack of judgment."
The Hokage stood, moving to the window that overlooked the village. His back was to them, his posture rigid. "Do you know what message this sends to other villages if word spreads? That the Hokage's own grandson can steal forbidden techniques without consequence? That family connection grants immunity from punishment? The political damage alone could—"
"Then punish me." Naruto's voice was quiet but steady. "Whatever the appropriate punishment is for stealing the scroll, give it to me. I knew it was wrong when I did it. I did it anyway. That's on me, not on Iruka-sensei for defending me, not on you for being my grandfather. Just me."
Hiruzen turned back to face him, and for just a moment, something like approval flickered in his eyes before the Hokage's mask reasserted itself. "The standard punishment for stealing classified materials is imprisonment pending investigation, possible exile depending on intent and damage caused. If you were anyone else, you'd be in a cell right now awaiting trial."
The words hung heavy in the air.
"However," Hiruzen continued, "Iruka has vouched for your character. The circumstances of Mizuki's manipulation have been verified through interrogation. And you did ultimately protect the scroll and defeat a traitor. These factors mitigate but do not eliminate the severity of your crime."
He moved back to his desk, each step deliberate. "You will be placed on probationary status for six months. Any mission you undertake will be under direct supervision. Your movements will be monitored. Any violation of protocol, any hint of similar judgment failures, and you will face full prosecution regardless of family connection. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
"Furthermore, you will personally apologize to every council member for the security breach your actions created. You will write a full report detailing your thought process and the mistakes in judgment that led to the theft. And you will spend one hundred hours performing community service to be determined by the mission desk." Hiruzen's voice softened fractionally. "These consequences are meant to teach, Naruto. Not to break you, but to help you understand the weight of the responsibilities you'll carry as a shinobi."
"I understand."
"I hope you do." Hiruzen sat back down, and for just a moment, the Hokage's mask slipped and Naruto could see his grandfather beneath—tired, worried, aged by the weight of impossible choices. "Because the alternative would have been watching you face far harsher punishment from others who don't care about your potential or your character."
Asuma moved closer, placing a hand heavily on Naruto's shoulder. "You scared the hell out of me, kid. When I heard you'd stolen the scroll and fought Mizuki... I thought you were dead. Don't do that again."
"I'm sorry, Uncle Asuma."
"Sorry doesn't cut it. But learning from this does. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
Iruka approached as well, his expression still troubled but carrying underlying warmth. "The forehead protector I gave you wasn't just recognition of your skill, Naruto. It was recognition of your potential to become an exceptional shinobi. But potential means nothing without wisdom to guide it. Use this experience to grow, not to resent the consequences."
"I will, Iruka-sensei."
But even as Naruto spoke the words, even as he accepted the punishment and acknowledged his mistakes, his mind was elsewhere. Circling obsessively around the revelation that had shattered his entire understanding of himself and his place in the world.
The Nine-Tails was inside him. Had been inside him since birth. The demon that destroyed the village, killed hundreds, orphaned children and widowed parents—it lived in his body, its chakra mixing with his own, its presence the source of every control problem he'd been experiencing.
His grandfather had told him years ago that his parents—Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage, and Kushina Uzumaki, whose details remained frustratingly vague—had died defeating the Nine-Tails, sacrificing themselves to save the village from the beast's rampage. That story had been Naruto's bedrock understanding of his heritage. His parents were heroes. They'd saved everyone. He was the son of heroes, carrying their legacy of sacrifice and protection.
But that wasn't the whole truth, was it? They hadn't defeated the Nine-Tails. They'd sealed it. Into him. Into their newborn son, making him a living prison for the very monster they'd died fighting.
The revelation churned in his stomach like poison. Questions he couldn't ask in front of the others, couldn't voice while being reprimanded, threatened to burst out of him anyway.
Why had they chosen him? Why make their own child the container for something so terrible? Had they known what they were condemning him to—a life of carrying a demon, of having his chakra corrupted by its influence, of being a walking cage for the village's greatest trauma?
And the people who knew—how many knew? How many looked at him and saw not Naruto, not the Hokage's grandson, not a student or friend, but the Nine-Tails' container? Did Sasuke know? Did his classmates? Was every interaction he'd ever had colored by knowledge he'd been denied, by people either pitying or resenting him for something beyond his control?
The anger that surged through him was hot and immediate. Anger at his parents for making him this thing. Anger at his grandfather for lying about how they'd defeated the beast. Anger at everyone who'd known the truth and never told him, letting him walk through life ignorant of the monster he carried.
But underneath the anger was something worse: disgust. Deep, visceral self-loathing that made his skin crawl with the need to escape his own body. The demon was inside him. Part of him. Every time he used chakra, he was drawing on energy mixed with its influence. Every time he got angry or scared and felt that presence stirring, that was the Nine-Tails responding to his emotions.
He was contaminated. Corrupted. Not fully human anymore, if he'd ever been human at all. A cage with a boy's face, walking around pretending to be normal while carrying devastation inside him.
"Naruto?" Hiruzen's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. "Do you have anything else to say?"
He wanted to scream. Wanted to demand answers to the thousand questions clawing at his throat. Wanted to rage at the unfairness of being made a container without choice, without warning, without any say in whether he wanted to carry this burden.
But what came out was small and broken: "Why didn't you tell me? About the Nine-Tails. About what's really inside me."
The silence that followed was absolute. Hiruzen's expression became infinitely sad. Asuma's hand tightened on Naruto's shoulder. Iruka looked stricken, as if he'd hoped they could avoid this conversation entirely.
"I was going to," Hiruzen said quietly. "When you were older. When you'd built a strong enough sense of self that learning the truth wouldn't shatter your identity. When you had enough support and understanding to process what it means without—"
"Without what? Without hating myself? Without feeling disgusted by my own existence? Too late for that, Grandpa. Mizuki-sensei made sure I know exactly what I am now."
"You are Naruto," Hiruzen said with quiet intensity. "You are my grandson. You are a shinobi of Konohagakure. The Nine-Tails is inside you, yes, but it does not define—"
"Doesn't it?" The question came out bitter. "Every chakra control problem I've had. Every time that red energy leaked out. Every restriction you placed on my training—all of it because of the demon inside me. How is that not defining me?"
"Because you are more than a container." Iruka stepped forward, his voice carrying fierce conviction. "I've taught you for years, Naruto. I've watched you grow and learn and develop into someone remarkable. The Nine-Tails didn't do that. You did that. Your choices, your effort, your determination—those came from you, not from the beast."
"But—"
"No buts," Asuma interjected firmly. "Listen to me, kid. I've trained with you almost every day for years. I've seen you push past limits, seen you protect your friends, seen you become strong through your own choices. The Nine-Tails is cargo you carry, not the driver. Don't confuse being burdened with being defined."
But their words, however genuine, couldn't quite penetrate the storm of emotions raging inside him. Naruto felt flayed open, raw, every certainty he'd built his life on revealed as partial truths or comfortable lies meant to protect him from reality too harsh for a child.
He was a jinchūriki. A human sacrifice. A living seal containing the very monster that had nearly destroyed everything he loved.
And tomorrow, he'd have to face his classmates knowing this truth about himself, wondering if they knew, wondering if every interaction would now be colored by the knowledge that he wasn't quite human anymore.
"May I be dismissed, Hokage-sama?" His voice was carefully controlled, empty of the emotions churning beneath. "I need to...."
Hiruzen studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "You may go. But Naruto—this conversation isn't finished. Tonight, we'll talk properly. Just us. I'll answer every question you have, explain everything I should have explained years ago. Will you give me that chance?"
Naruto nodded without speaking, not trusting his voice, and left the office with mechanical precision. One foot in front of the other. Down the stairs. Through the Tower's corridors. Out into sunlight that felt too bright, too cheerful for someone whose entire world had just been rebuilt with pieces that didn't quite fit together anymore.
He was a genin now. First to graduate. Wearing a forehead protector earned through theft and violence and revelation.
He was also a cage. A container. A living prison for a demon.
Both things were true. Both defined him, whether he wanted them to or not.
The question now was which truth he'd let guide him forward—the part that was Naruto, or the part that was the Nine-Tails' cage.
And that question, unlike the punishment and the scolding and the consequences, had no clear answer at all.
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