Chapter 3: Steady Currents
The peaceful rhythm of Naruto's new life continued to flow like the gentle stream near the Academy. Another afternoon ended, and he began the solitary walk back to his apartment. The setting sun stretched his shadow long and lean across the cobblestones, its light catching his hair and gilding him in a halo of gold.
His path took him past the small riverbank, a quiet spot where the water murmured over smooth stones. There, he saw a lone figure sitting at the water's edge. She was hunched forward, elbows on her knees, chin resting in her hands, staring into the flowing current with an intensity that seemed to push the world away. The long, dark hair and the palpable aura of isolation were unmistakable.
Uchiha Sasuke.
A flicker of something—a memory that wasn't his, a ghost of a different story—tried to surface in his mind but dissolved before he could grasp it. He paused, his gaze resting on her back. She was a puzzle, a living testament to a plot that had veered off its known rails.
As if sensing his stare, her head turned slightly. Over her shoulder, her dark, obsidian eyes met his clear blue ones. The connection lasted only a second, but in it, Naruto saw a universe of cold pride and simmering grief.
He didn't look away or flinch. Instead, his face relaxed into the wide, sun-bright smile that was becoming his signature. It was an open expression, devoid of pity or fear, simply an acknowledgment.
Sasuke's eyes narrowed a fraction. She made a soft, dismissive sound—a barely audible "Hn"—and turned her head back to the river, cutting the connection as decisively as a kunai slash. Such easy, open smiles felt like an affront to the gravity of her world.
Naruto's smile didn't falter. He gave a small, good-natured shrug, his breath making a faint cloud in the cooling air. A bit of a cold reception, but fair enough. He didn't take it personally. Everyone here fought their own battles in silence. With a final glance at the lonely figure by the water, he continued on his way, his mind already shifting to the evening's training regimen.
Discipline was the new cornerstone of his existence. He was no longer the boy who acted on chaotic impulse. Every moment was accounted for: study, physical conditioning, and the relentless refinement of his chakra. His control grew finer, his reserves feeling more like a well-tended reservoir than a wild, storm-swollen river.
A year flowed by, marked not by dramatic events, but by quiet, relentless progress. Naruto had, through sheer diligence, mastered the entire standard Academy curriculum. The three core techniques—Transformation, Clone, and Substitution—were executed with a polished ease that made Iruka's chest swell with pride. The teacher often remarked, both to Naruto and in staff meetings, that he had never seen a student demonstrate such consistent, focused improvement.
On Konoha's bustling center street, the familiar scene played out at Ichiraku Ramen. Naruto, now slightly taller and dressed in his simple white high-necked shirt, sat beside Iruka, who was in his standard chunin fatigues. The slurp of noodles was a comfortable sound between them. Naruto finished his first bowl with efficient speed and had already signaled Teuchi for a second before Iruka was halfway done.
"You know, Naruto," Iruka said with a theatrical sigh, "at this rate, you're going to eat me into the poorhouse. My mission pay can't keep up with your appetite."
Naruto grinned around a mouthful of noodles, swallowing before he replied. "You promised, Iruka-sensei. 'Any time I need it,' you said. A ninja's word is his bond!" His eyes sparkled with playful challenge.
Iruka laughed, the sound full of genuine warmth. Watching Naruto's healthy appetite and his bright, determined face, any monetary worry vanished, replaced by a deep, quiet satisfaction. The lost, attention-starved boy was gone, replaced by this focused, kind young man.
Suddenly, Naruto put his chopsticks down, his expression turning serious. He turned to Iruka. "Iruka-sensei, do you know any other ninjutsu? I feel I've taken the three basics as far as I can on my own. I want to learn more."
Iruka's smile turned thoughtful, then slightly apologetic. "More ninjutsu? Well…" He scratched his cheek. He wanted to help—he considered Naruto the little brother he never had—but his own arsenal as a chunin instructor was specialized in foundational skills, not broad combat arts.
Then it hit him. "Got it! You've mastered the Clone Technique, but it's an illusion, useless in a real scuffle. What if I taught you a physical clone? One that can actually interact with the world."
Naruto's blue eyes lit up with immediate, keen interest. "The Shadow Clone Technique? I've read about it. It's a high-level jutsu, usually only taught to genin or chunin."
"That's the one. It's not about flashy power; it's about utility and split-second tactics," Iruka explained, pleased by Naruto's theoretical knowledge. "The chakra cost is significant, but for a spar or a tactical diversion…"
He didn't get to finish. Naruto was already on his feet, his half-eaten second bowl forgotten. "Let's start now!"
"Hey! Your ramen!" Iruka protested, but he was already pulling out his wallet.
"Training is more important!" Naruto called back, already heading for the door, that brilliant smile flashing over his shoulder.
Iruka shook his head, a fond exasperation on his face. So impatient… but that drive is exactly his strength. "Alright, Naruto," he murmured to himself, paying Teuchi. "Let's see what you can really do."
Less than an hour later, in a grassy training ground behind the Academy, Iruka's stunned voice echoed. "Incredible! Naruto, you formed a perfect Shadow Clone on your first real attempt?!"
Standing before him were two Narutos. They were identical in every detail—from the glint in their blue eyes to the subtle scuff on their shoes. They exchanged a glance and nodded in unison before one dispelled in a small puff of white smoke.
"The theory made sense," the remaining Naruto said, his voice calm but his mind racing with possibilities. "Dividing the chakra evenly, maintaining the form with a steady flow… It's just an extension of control, really." Internally, his thoughts were more excited: This is it. The key. With this, I can multiply my training time.
Iruka could only stare. The speed of mastery was unheard of. It wasn't just talent; it was as if Naruto's mind was wired for profound chakra comprehension. A fierce pride swelled within him, mixed with a new awe.
The Shadow Clone became Naruto's greatest secret and most powerful tool. He never created more than three at a time, deeming the exponential chakra drain and mental feedback from multiple dispersals too risky to experiment with casually. But three clones, combined with his main body, meant his effective training time quadrupled. While his physical body attended classes, he began to… rest. He would lay his head on his desk, to all appearances a student catching up on sleep, while his consciousness processed the shared experiences and learnings of his clones training in seclusion.
Iruka noticed the daytime naps but said nothing. He understood. The boy had academically and technically surpassed the Academy's requirements. Graduating him early might draw the wrong kind of attention from the village elders, something Iruka instinctively felt Naruto wished to avoid. They had an unspoken agreement: Naruto would maintain the facade of a mediocre, lazy student, and Iruka would turn a blind eye to his "naps." It was a secret they kept, a small conspiracy between them.
The ruse was tested during the practical combat exercises. Iruka led the class to a training field and paired them off for sparring sessions.
"Find a partner and begin! Focus on form and control, not on injuring your opponent!" Iruka announced.
The class erupted into motion. Shikamaru, with a long-suffering sigh, found himself facing a determined Choji, already munching on a chip for energy. Kiba and Akamaru squared off against the ever-silent Shino, whose bugs hummed faintly. Sakura and Ino locked eyes with a fierce, rivalry-fueled intensity.
Even the aloof Sasuke was approached by an overconfident boy from another class, who quickly found himself disarmed and on his back, defeated by a few swift, graceful motions before he could even blink.
Naruto stood to the side, waiting. As the pairs formed, a familiar pattern emerged. Glances slid over him and moved away. No one made eye contact; no one stepped forward. The invisible barrier of his status held firm. He felt a familiar, quiet pang of isolation, but it was followed by a shrug of acceptance. Their loss.
His gaze then caught another solitary figure. Hyuga Hinata stood at the edge of the bustling groups, her fingers twisting together, her eyes darting anxiously as she searched for a partner who didn't seem to exist. She looked profoundly uncomfortable, a mouse trapped in an open field.
A small smile touched Naruto's lips. He walked over, his steps quiet on the grass.
"Having trouble finding a partner, Hinata?"
"Ah!" She jumped, spinning around. Her pale lavender eyes went wide as they met his, and that telltale blush bloomed instantly across her nose and cheeks. "N-Naruto-kun! I… I was just…"
"I don't have one either," he said, his tone friendly and matter-of-fact. "How about we pair up? It seems efficient."
"Eh? U-us? T-together?" The concept short-circuited her brain. Her heart performed a complicated gymnastic routine behind her ribs. The boy she watched daily, whose quiet strength and sunny smiles had become her secret beacon, was actually speaking to her, inviting her. "I… that is… if Naruto-kun doesn't mind…"
"I suggested it, didn't I?" he said, his smile gentle to offset her nervousness. "Come on, there's a good spot over here." He pointed to a quieter corner of the field.
Hinata could only nod mutely, her feet moving on autopilot as she followed him, her mind a whirlwind of panic and giddy disbelief.
Once they were in position, about three meters apart, Naruto took a loose, ready stance. Hinata, however, remained frozen, her head bowed, seemingly fascinated by the stitching on her training gloves.
"Hinata," Naruto prompted, his voice calm. "I've always heard the Hyuga clan's Gentle Fist is incredible. I'd really like to see it. Why don't you show me?"
"G-Gentle Fist…?" she whispered, finally looking up. The thought of using her clan's revered, precise technique against him felt somehow wrong, almost sacrilegious.
"Hinata," he said again, a little firmer, yet still kind. "We're here to train. It's okay to attack. I'm ready."
His steady gaze and encouraging nod cut through some of her panic. She took a deep, shuddering breath, the air hissing through her teeth. Slowly, she raised her hands, falling into the opening stance of the Gentle Fist, her palms open and facing him. The veins around her eyes bulged and pulsed as the Byakugan activated, its pale, pupil-less gaze fixing on him, seeing not just his body, but the brilliant, swirling network of his tenketsu points and the vast, breathtaking ocean of his chakra within. The sheer, dazzling volume of it made her gasp inwardly, but she held her stance.
"P-Please, Naruto-kun," she stammered, her voice gaining a sliver of resolve. "Do your best!"
A genuine, excited grin spread across Naruto's face. This was real. This was progress. "Alright, Hinata," he said, sinking into his own stance. "Show me what you've got!"