Kaguya?

Naruto jolted awake to the sound of water pouring overhead, a biting chill coursing through his body. His head throbbed, but the weight of the ache had lessened, allowing him to lift his pale, cold hand and push himself up from the shower floor.

Hurriedly, he wrapped his soggy form in a cold, dry towel, which surprisingly added a bit of warmth to his freezing frame. As he stumbled out of the shower, he tried to shake off the lingering confusion that clung to him like the dampness of the towel.

Iruka-sensei must be wondering what sort of mischief I'm getting into right now, he thought with a wry smile, attempting to ease the tension in his chest. But as he pulled himself back into his bedroom, a sense of foreboding washed over him.

He glanced around the small, cluttered space, the familiar sight of his ninja posters and scattered training gear bringing him a momentary sense of comfort. Yet, the memory of the woman—her lavender-white eyes and flowing hair—intruded upon his thoughts, an unsettling reminder of the strange dream he had just escaped.

Shaking his head, Naruto muttered to himself, "Get it together, Naruto! You're just being paranoid." A wry smile crept onto his lips as his gaze fell upon the chaotic piles of trash scattered around his room. Ramen cups overflowed from bags, their bright colors standing out like beacons against the dullness of the walls.

With a resigned sigh, Naruto pulled himself up and made his way to the dresser, rummaging through the drawers for something other than his usual attire. He sifted through a collection of shirts and pants, searching for a simple outfit that felt more comfortable. After a moment, he dug out a plain, fitted black T-shirt and a pair of dark pants—clothing that would allow him to move freely without the constricting feel of his trademark jumpsuit.

"Why do I even wear that thing?" he grumbled, tossing the obnoxious jumpsuit aside. "It's not like I'm a walking billboard for ninja fashion." Unbeknownst to him, there was a strange shift in his personality as he let go of the garment, a subtle change that went unnoticed in the haze of his morning routine.

After changing, he glanced in the mirror, adjusting his hair with a determined flick of his fingers. It still had that wild, spiky look he was known for, but today it felt different—more grounded, less chaotic. A surge of resolve washed over him, and for the first time, he felt as though he could confront whatever lay ahead. Maybe today would be different. Maybe he could shake off the unsettling remnants of the dream.

With a final nod to his reflection, he grabbed his goggles and secured them firmly around his forehead. "Alright, let's do this!" he declared, a grin breaking across his face.

…

Iruka glanced at the clock absently, a frown tugging at his brow as he wondered where Naruto could be. The classroom was unusually quiet today, devoid of the familiar sounds of mischief that usually accompanied the boy's presence. He hadn't received any reports of Naruto causing chaos in the village, which was a rarity in itself. Normally, by this time, he would have already gone out "hunting" for him, chasing down leads and piecing together the trail of trouble his student left behind.

Even on days when Naruto skipped class, he would typically show up for at least an hour, if only to stir up some kind of ruckus. Iruka couldn't shake the feeling that something was off—Naruto was never this late. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he stared at the empty seat by the window. A sense of unease settled in his stomach, gnawing at him.

"Maybe I should go check on him," he muttered under his breath, the thought lingering like a dark cloud.

Bang! Speak of the devil; just as the thought crossed his mind, Naruto came bursting through the door.

"Your future Hokage has arrived!" he yelled, dramatically kicking the sliding door open with a flourish. He struck a pose, chest puffed out and a wide grin plastered on his face, completely oblivious to the fact that he had interrupted Iruka's moment of concern.

Iruka couldn't help but smile despite his earlier worries, the familiar energy of Naruto filling the room. "You're late, Naruto!" he exclaimed, trying to keep his tone light. But then, irritation crept into his voice. "And you broke the door!"

Naruto blinked, his grin faltering for a moment as he looked at the door, slightly hanging from its hinges and tilting diagonally. "Uh… I meant to do that?" he stammered, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

Iruka sighed, shaking his head but unable to suppress a chuckle. "Just try to come in without causing a scene next time, alright?" He gestured to the door, now a crooked reminder of Naruto's grand entrance.

"Come on, Iruka-sensei! Where's the fun in that?" Naruto replied, his trademark enthusiasm returning as he walked further into the classroom, oblivious to the disarray he often left in his wake. He plopped down into his seat, arms spread wide as if to claim the space as his own.

Iruka rolled his eyes, but then his gaze caught on something different about Naruto. Why isn't he wearing orange today? It was unusual. The boy always wore his bright orange jumpsuit, as if to scream for attention. But today, dressed in black and dark cargo pants, Naruto seemed a little more... subdued. Whatever. It doesn't matter, Iruka thought, brushing it off.

Still, there was something comforting about Naruto's chaotic energy. Like a whirlwind, Naruto could sweep away the quiet, the monotony, and the dullness of the day. "You might think it's fun, but I'm the one who has to deal with the aftermath," Iruka added, a mock-serious tone creeping into his voice. But beneath the teasing, Iruka couldn't deny the soft spot he had for the boy. Despite all the trouble Naruto caused, his presence had a way of bringing life into the room.

"C'mon, Naruto, why do you always have to be so loud in the morning?" came the tired groan of Shikamaru, who sat behind him, his head resting heavily on his desk.

"It's 12:30, Shikamaru; it's not morning anymore!" Choji chimed in, munching on a bag of chips as he shot a teasing grin at his friend.

"Exactly! The only thing morning about this is your grumpy face!" Naruto shot back, turning in his seat to face Shikamaru, who merely sighed in response.

"I swear, if you keep it up, I might just fall asleep right here," Shikamaru muttered, his eyelids fluttering as he tried to stay awake. "I had to deal with a ton of homework last night."

"Yeah, yeah, we all know you're the king of naps," Naruto teased, throwing a crumpled piece of paper at him. "You should try a little enthusiasm; it might actually wake you up!"

Shikamaru groaned again, burying his face in his arms. "Enthusiasm is too much work."

Choji chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for another handful of chips. "You could use some of Naruto's energy, Shikamaru. At least he's got the whole 'future Hokage' thing going for him."

Naruto puffed out his chest dramatically. "That's right! And you two should take notes on how to be as awesome as me!"

Before he could bask in his self-proclaimed glory, Ino turned around in her seat, eyebrows raised. "Anyway, Naruto, where'd your horrendous jumpsuit go?"

Naruto blinked, caught off guard. "It's not horrendous!" he shot back, immediately defensive. He crossed his arms, throwing her a challenging glare. "I just didn't feel like wearing it today, okay?"

Ino smirked, clearly not convinced. "Right... 'cause you totally don't love drawing attention to yourself with that thing."

Naruto fumbled for a moment, caught between wanting to defend his jumpsuit and not really feeling like explaining why he left it behind. "It's a ninja's right to look cool, ya know!" he grumbled.

"Well, the black looks better," Ino teased, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she turned back around.

Naruto stared at her for a second, then huffed. "Tch, whatever..."

"Quiet down, you three!" Iruka erupted, grabbing three pieces of chalk and expertly tossing them. Each one accurately struck its target, landing on the foreheads of Naruto, Shikamaru, and Choji.

"Hey!" they groaned in unison, rubbing their foreheads with exaggerated expressions of disbelief. Shikamaru was in disbelief that Ino hadn't gotten hit as well.

"Tomorrow you all will be tested on three subjects: Ninjutsu, Taijutsu, and your written test," Iruka began, picking up a piece of chalk and writing each subject on the chalkboard with deliberate strokes. The chalk squeaked against the board, the sound echoing through the quiet room.

"Each of these tests is crucial. Ninjutsu will assess your ability to perform various jutsu under pressure," Iruka explained, turning to face the class with a serious expression. "Taijutsu will gauge your physical skills and combat techniques. And the written test? Well, let's just say it's not just about knowing how to throw a kunai. You'll need to understand strategy, tactics, and the basics of being a shinobi."

Naruto's eyes widened as he listened intently, his heart racing. "What if I mess up the written test? I'm better at fighting!" he blurted out, a hint of panic creeping into his voice. The thought of failing a fourth time haunted him, tightening the knot in his stomach.

"No need to worry," Iruka reassured, "As long as you focus on the Ninjutsu part of the test, especially Jutsu Application, you should be fine. Just remember, it's not just about memorizing techniques; it's about understanding when and how to use them."

"Now, if I can continue with no interruptions this time…" Iruka shot a pointed glare at Naruto, who sheepishly grinned, trying to sink into his seat. Iruka's gaze swept over the classroom, drifting across the colorful spectrum of his students' hair—pink, purple, black, brown, and even Naruto's bright yellow. Each face, though varied in personality and background, held potential.

"As I was saying," Iruka continued, his tone more encouraging now, "I have full confidence in all of you. You've been training hard, and while the test is important, it's just one step in your journey as a shinobi."

And with that, Naruto began to drown out Iruka's words, his attention drifting toward the window. His mind wandered as he watched the civilians pass by, some parents picking up their children early, their laughter and conversations faint through the glass.

He felt a pang of loneliness. The bustling village outside seemed so distant from his world—the world where he was always the outsider, the troublemaker, the orphan without a family to pick him up after class. His eyes followed a mother and child as they passed by, their hands intertwined, and for a brief moment, he wondered what it would feel like to have someone waiting for him too.

He needed a distraction, something—anything—to pull him out of this whirlwind in his head. His gaze bounced from his classmates to the front of the room, searching for anything to latch onto. The steady droning of Iruka's lecture faded into the background, barely registering in his mind. Shikamaru was resting his head lazily on his arm, Choji munching away at another bag of chips.

Sakura and ino seemingly, while whispering, bickering about something. Most likely concerning Sasuke. Something stirred inside Naruto when his gaze fell on Sasuke. It wasn't the usual rivalry or envy he felt when comparing himself to the prodigy. No, this was different—an emotion he couldn't quite name. It felt heavier, more complicated, like an echo of something forgotten. Why was he feeling this way? What was it about Sasuke that felt... off today?

The bell rang, cutting through his thoughts, signaling the end of the school day. The classroom quickly emptied, students filing out in small groups, their chatter filling the hallways. Naruto didn't move. He stayed seated, his eyes fixed on the desk in front of him, hands folded in his lap as if frozen in place.

One by one, the seats around him grew vacant, leaving only the lingering scent of chalk and the faint sounds of footsteps echoing down the corridor. Naruto watched everyone leave—parents arriving to pick up their children, friends heading off together. The classroom, once buzzing with life, now felt eerily quiet.

For a moment, Naruto considered getting up and leaving too. But where would he go? There was no one waiting for him outside, no hand to reach out for, no smiling face to greet him. Just an empty apartment. He sighed heavily, letting his head fall into his hands.

What would it feel like to be like them? he thought, glancing once more at the door through which everyone had disappeared. The thought of going home to nothing but silence twisted a familiar ache deep within him, an ache he could never seem to outrun.

Bonk!

"Youch!" Naruto yelped, rubbing the back of his head as he looked up to find Iruka standing over him, holding a large textbook. "What'd you do that for, Iruka-sensei?!"

Iruka didn't answer immediately, instead giving Naruto a long, steady look. There was no anger in his eyes, just that same knowing concern he always seemed to have for his troublemaking student.

"How about we go get some ramen, you and me?" Iruka asked, completely ignoring the question.

Naruto blinked, the sting of the textbook already forgotten. "Wait, seriously? You're not gonna yell at me for zoning out?"

Iruka chuckled, shaking his head. "Not today. Consider it my treat. Besides…" he trailed off, a softer tone creeping into his voice, "you looked like you could use some company."

Naruto's eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat at Iruka's words. The offer of ramen, the warmth behind it—it wasn't just a meal. It was a rare moment of connection, something he didn't often feel.

A grin quickly spread across Naruto's face, though he tried to hide how much Iruka's words had affected him. "Well, if you're offering, I guess I can't say no! I'm starving!" he exclaimed, leaping out of his seat as if the weight of his earlier thoughts had vanished in an instant.

Iruka shook his head again, but this time with a smile. "Come on, let's get out of here before you eat the chalk."

Naruto laughed as they walked side by side toward the door, his spirits lifted. For a moment, the loneliness he'd been feeling earlier faded, replaced by the warmth of having someone who cared.