The tall boy's fist sliced through the air, already two inches from Naruto's face. His knuckles were thick with calluses from street fights, and the kunai in his other hand glinted coldly as it slashed toward Naruto's paint-streaked cheek.
"Naruto-kun, watch out!"
Hinata squeezed her eyes shut, tears spilling through her fingers as she covered her face. She could already imagine him beaten bloody.
These three had broken a first-year student's arm last year for reporting their theft. Nothing had happened to them. No one dared interfere.
In their eyes, this dead-last Nine-Tails brat—who couldn't even produce a proper Shadow Clone—was walking straight into a beating.
But just as the fist was about to connect—
Naruto moved.
He didn't use a trace of chakra. Didn't even shift his stance. He simply tilted his head slightly, the punch grazing past him with a whisper of wind.
His right hand rose.
A basic straight punch—drilled into every Academy student hundreds of times. No flourish. No wasted motion.
Yet the angle was viciously precise.
His fist drove squarely into the tall boy's left rib, right beneath the floating ribs—the softest point on the torso.
Even an ordinary strike there could steal someone's breath.
Naruto had sixty years of taijutsu refinement behind it. His control over strength was precise down to the millimeter.
"Ghk—!"
The tall boy's scream died in his throat. His face turned a purplish red instantly. The hand holding the kunai went limp.
He folded in half like a cooked shrimp and collapsed to his knees with a heavy thud, gasping for air he couldn't draw.
The skinny one froze for a split second, then roared, "You bastard!" and lunged forward, kunai thrusting toward Naruto's shoulder.
The motion was fast—
But in Naruto's eyes, it crawled like a snail.
He shifted one step—another Academy-taught basic evasion—slipping neatly past the attack.
His left elbow came up.
Crack.
A solid blow slammed into the skinny boy's back.
Something shifted with a faint snapping sound—rib or vertebra, it hardly mattered.
The boy shrieked and flew forward like a kite with its string cut, face-first into the mossy dirt. His kunai clattered away, skidding across the ground. He spat out mud, half a tooth loosening in the process.
The last to charge was the two-hundred-pound fatty. Relying on sheer bulk, he spread his arms to bear-hug Naruto and slam him down.
"I'll crush you, you freak!"
Naruto sidestepped half a step, letting the boy's momentum carry forward.
Then—
A simple sweeping kick.
Low. Clean. Textbook.
His foot skimmed the ground and knocked the boy's ankle out from under him.
The fat boy, already lunging hard, lost balance completely.
All two hundred pounds crashed into the earth. Dust shook from the walls. He howled like a pig being stepped on, writhing in agony.
Three moves.
Exactly three.
From the first lunge to all three upperclassmen rolling on the ground in pain—
Less than three seconds.
Naruto stood where he had started.
His orange tracksuit wasn't even rumpled. Blue paint still streaked his face like a goofy tiger. To anyone glancing from afar, he still looked like the same foolish dead-last.
But to the three genin on the ground—
He looked like a demon.
Even the stray cat perched on the alley wall froze mid-step, tail puffed high, round eyes wide in disbelief.
Inside the seal, Kurama had been waiting to mock Naruto for getting beaten. Instead, he snorted and flicked his tail.
"Not bad. Didn't embarrass me. A lot better than that spineless brat you used to be."
"You—you cheated!" The tall boy staggered upright, clutching his ribs, face twisted. "You used the demon fox's power! No way a dead last like you could beat us!"
"Yeah! You cheated! We're going to report you to the Hokage!" the skinny one spat, lisping through a chipped tooth but still trying to sound tough.
The fat one struggled to his feet, glaring from a safe distance, no longer daring to rush in.
Naruto took a single step forward.
He hadn't released chakra. His expression remained calm.
But fifty years later, Hokage had carved authority into his bones. When his gaze swept over them—cold and steady—
The three felt their legs weaken.
The threats stuck in their throats.
"Report me?" Naruto's voice was mild, yet carried an undeniable weight. "You cornered the Hyūga clan's heiress. Tried to extort money. Threatened to gouge out her Byakugan and sell it."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Tell me—if the Third hears about this, who do you think he'll punish?"
Their faces went pale.
They had bullied Hinata for a long time, banking on her quiet nature and strained position within the clan.
But if it truly reached the Hokage—
Extortion. Threats to steal bloodline eyes.
They might not even make it out of Konoha alive.
"We—we were wrong!" The tall one caved first, dropping to his knees with a thud. "Please! Don't tell Lord Hokage!"
The skinny and the fat one followed instantly, bowing so hard their foreheads nearly hit the dirt.
Naruto lifted his chin toward the trampled forehead protector at their feet.
"Pick it up. Clean it."
"Yes! Yes!"
They scrambled. The tall boy grabbed it first, frantically wiping the mud off with his sleeve until Konoha's emblem gleamed again. He held it out with both hands, bowing so low his back nearly touched the ground.
"We're sorry! We'll never bully Lady Hyūga again!"
Naruto took the forehead protector.
His fingers brushed over the faint scuff where it had been stepped on.
A long breath eased from his chest.
Sixty years ago, he had stood at the mouth of this alley, watching them grind it into the mud.
Watched Hinata pick it up through tears.
That helplessness had sat in his chest for sixty years.
Today—
It finally loosened.
He looked toward Hinata in the corner.
She still stood frozen, tears clinging to her lashes, pale lavender eyes wide with disbelief. The red bean buns in her hands were crushed beyond recognition, sweet filling smeared across her fingers without her noticing.
Sunlight slanted into the alley just then, catching her white cheeks and turning her lashes gold.
Soft.
Fragile.
Like a freshly steamed red bean bun.
Naruto tightened his grip on the cleaned forehead protector—
And took a step toward her.