Outside the Ninja Academy, the day was coming to an end.
The sun hung low over Konoha, its orange light spilling across the training grounds and long stone paths. Shadows stretched and thinned as families gathered their children, voices overlapping in tired but content murmurs. Another ordinary day had ended for most of them.
Naruto Uzumaki sat alone beneath the academy tree.
The wooden swing creaked softly as it swayed back and forth, its ropes worn smooth by years of neglect. Naruto's hands clenched around them, his head bowed so low that his blond hair hid his eyes completely. His shoulders were hunched, small and tense, as if he were trying to make himself disappear.
Against the fading sunlight, his figure looked painfully out of place.
Parents and students passed by in the distance, deliberately giving the tree a wide berth. Their footsteps faded, but their voices did not.
"Don't get too close to that thing at school."
"Graduation's almost here. Why hasn't that kid been expelled already?"
"I heard he caused trouble again today. Honestly, it'd be better if he just vanished."
"He even defaced the Hokage Rock. Disgusting."
Each sentence was low, hurried, and meant to be unheard.
None of them were.
Naruto's grip tightened until his knuckles turned white. His head dipped further, chin nearly pressing into his chest. His breathing grew shallow, uneven.
He didn't understand.
He had never understood.
From as far back as he could remember, this was how it had always been. No parents. No explanations. Only cold looks, hushed voices, and doors that closed the moment he approached. Other kids avoided him instinctively, as if being near him were dangerous. Adults looked at him with something between fear and hatred.
He didn't know what he had done to deserve it.
The pain welled up, familiar and sharp. Confusion tangled with sadness, then curdled into something darker. For a brief moment, Naruto felt like screaming. Like demanding answers. Like throwing something—anything—just to make the world look at him.
But the feeling didn't last.
It never did.
Just as quickly as it rose, the pain sank away, dragged downward by an unseen weight. The ache dulled. The anger faded. The suffocating pressure eased, leaving behind only a faint emptiness.
Naruto blinked.
It felt… normal.
As if something deep inside him had quietly taken the burden and swallowed it whole, leaving him able to breathe again.
He lifted his head slightly, inhaled, and forced his shoulders to relax. The despair that had been crushing him moments ago now felt distant, almost unreal.
It's fine, he told himself. I'm used to this.
A crooked grin tugged at his lips as he straightened, eyes brightening with stubborn resolve.
He jumped off the swing and turned toward the road, shouting after the villagers who were already gone.
"I'll become Hokage one day!" Naruto yelled, voice ringing through the space. "And then all of you will have to acknowledge me!"
The declaration echoed back at him, unanswered.
The road was empty.
No one stopped. No one turned around.
Naruto stood there for a few seconds longer, fists clenched, then slowly let them drop. His grin wavered, but he quickly shoved it back into place.
"That's fine," he muttered to himself. "They'll see. Someday."
His gaze drifted toward the academy gates.
"…Huh?"
He frowned, tilting his head.
"Why hasn't Iruka-sensei come out yet?" Naruto scratched his cheek, puzzled. "Didn't he say I had to clean the Hokage Rock as punishment?"
The memory of the afternoon made him wince.
Earlier that day, Iruka had been assessing their ninjutsu in preparation for the graduation exam. Naruto's performance had gone exactly as expected—terribly. His transformation jutsu collapsed halfway through; his clones barely counted as shadows.
So he'd done what he always did when cornered.
He'd used the Sexy Jutsu.
The result had been immediate and catastrophic.
Iruka's face had gone red. Blood had burst from his nose. He'd frozen in place, hunched over, hands flailing as he tried desperately to maintain his dignity in front of a class full of students.
Naruto let out a nervous laugh.
"Maybe I went too far…" he said, then shrugged. "Well, if he doesn't come, I'm not gonna complain. Cleaning's a pain anyway."
Despite his words, disappointment crept into his expression.
Punishment meant attention.
Even scolding was better than being ignored.
As Naruto turned to leave, something shifted deep within his mind.
Far below the surface of his thoughts, in a place Naruto had never consciously reached, Lock was watching.
The dark, formless space around him stirred faintly, like ripples spreading across still water. Through Naruto's senses, Lock observed the scene outside—the swing, the empty path, the boy pretending not to hurt.
Lock frowned.
"So that's all it takes," he murmured. "A few whispered curses."
The emotions Naruto had felt moments ago—pain, confusion, resentment—had been enough to loosen the pressure that normally crushed Lock down into the depths. For a brief window, Lock could see. Hear. Think clearly.
He had expected more.
Something violent. Something overwhelming.
Instead, it had been ordinary cruelty.
"If that's enough to bring me closer to the surface…" Lock's lips curled slightly. "Then this is easier than I thought."
Testing the limits of his influence, he focused inward and spoke—not outward, but into the strange internal structure that now existed alongside his consciousness.
"I want to switch."
There was a pause.
Then an immediate refusal.
The resistance wasn't verbal, but Lock understood it all the same. Naruto's emotional state wasn't unstable enough. The control of the body remained firmly with the main personality.
Lock exhaled slowly.
"As expected."
He hadn't truly believed it would work—not yet. What he had gained was limited: awareness, observation, and something far more important.
A channel.
He turned his attention fully back to Naruto.
"Cleaning the Hokage Rock… using that ridiculous jutsu on Iruka…" Lock mused. "So this is where we are."
The timeline aligned neatly.
The beginning.
Tomorrow night, Naruto would be manipulated, deceived, and pushed into stealing the Scroll of Seals. Tomorrow night would mark the first true fracture—his first real outburst, his first step toward power.
Lock's smile deepened.
"Perfect."
Not too early, when everything would still be buried under ignorance.
Not too late, when bonds had already formed.
Naruto was still alone.
Still desperate.
Still aching for someone to acknowledge him.
And that someone could be Lock.
After all, they shared the same mind.
The same body.
The same pain.
"If you won't rely on me," Lock whispered, "then who else do you have?"
Naruto's emotions were stabilizing again. The window was closing.
If Lock didn't act now, he would be forced back into silence.
So he reached out.
Not physically—there was no body here—but with intent, brushing against the surface of Naruto's consciousness.
And he spoke.
"Uzumaki Naruto."
Outside, Naruto froze mid-step.
His foot hovered above the ground as his eyes widened.
"…Huh?"
The voice had come from nowhere.
No—from inside.
It sounded familiar.
Too familiar.
Naruto spun around, eyes darting wildly as he scanned the empty path, the academy gates, the trees.
"Who said that?" he shouted. "Show yourself!"
No one was there.
The sun continued to set, indifferent.
Naruto swallowed.
The voice… it had sounded exactly like him.
Same tone. Same cadence. Even the volume matched.
A chill crept up his spine.
"No way…" he muttered. "That's creepy…"
Shaking his head violently, Naruto tried to laugh it off.
"I'm just tired," he said aloud. "Yeah. That's it."
To prove it, he spoke his own name, carefully, listening.
"Uzumaki Naruto?"
Before the echo of his voice faded, the answer came.
"Yes. That's me."
Naruto's blood ran cold.
His face went pale, then twisted into pure panic.
"Aaaahhh!!"
He bolted.
"Ghost! There's a ghost!!" Naruto screamed as he sprinted down the road. "Help! Third Hokage-jiji! Iruka-sensei! Ichiraku-ojisan! Somebody help!! I'm being haunted!!"
Inside, Lock went silent.
Then sighed.
"…Unbelievable."
He hadn't accounted for that.
"I'm not a ghost," Lock said flatly. "I'm inside your head. I am you."
"That's even worse!!" Naruto yelled, running faster.
Lock pinched the bridge of his nose—an imagined gesture, but a necessary one.
"Fine," he muttered. "If words won't work…"
He stopped speaking.
And opened the gate.
A fraction of his memories—no, their memories—surged upward.
Outside, Naruto skidded to a halt.
The world tilted.
Pain, unlike anything he'd consciously felt before, flooded his mind. Not a single memory, but a compressed weight of years—loneliness, hunger, hatred, despair—all crashing down at once.
Naruto gasped, dropping to his knees.
His hands clawed at the dirt as his face contorted, eyes wide and unfocused. For a heartbeat, something dark flickered behind them—resentment sharp enough to cut.
Then it was gone.
The pressure vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, dragged back down into the depths.
Naruto collapsed forward, panting.
"…What… what was that…?" he whispered.
Deep within, Lock watched calmly as the darkness reclaimed its place.
"That," he said softly, "is where your pain goes."
The connection thinned.
The light faded.
But this time, Naruto was no longer ignorant.
And Lock knew—
The first crack had been made.
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