A few minutes had passed.

  The courtyard was still full of voices, footsteps, and that typical recess noise — short bursts of ughter, sandals scraping against the ground, and the restless energy of children who still didn’t quite know how to behave in a new pce. But around Hinata, it felt as though a smaller, fragile bubble existed, where the sound arrived muffled.

  “Are you feeling calmer now?” Naruto asked in a gentle tone.

  Hinata didn’t answer; she only gave a small nod. The steam had already faded, her eyes had returned to normal, and the redness on her face had diminished until it remained only on her cheeks. Even so, it was clear that she was still embarrassed — not the kind that fades in a few seconds, but the kind someone carries as if it were a physical weight.

  Naruto stood beside her for a moment, unsure of what to do next. He was good at ignoring people. Good at observing without participating. Good at maniputing and steering situations in the direction he wanted. But when he needed to be genuine… when he needed to act without calcution… he clearly struggled.

  ‘Maybe I really do need to try rexing once in a while.’

  As he thought that, Naruto noticed Hinata clenching her fists. It wasn’t anger. It was effort. That silent attempt of a shy person trying to gather courage without anyone noticing.

  “I-I-I’m sorry for reacting like that.” Hinata paused for a moment, swallowing hard, then continued. “S-sometimes I get really shy and end up reacting that way.”

  She kept her head down as she spoke, as if she didn’t have the courage to look him in the eyes. Her tone carried no drama, no plea for pity. It was just… nervous sincerity. A simple apology that, for her, seemed to require more strength than any physical exercise.

  Naruto simply listened.

  He could have replied with something logical. He could have said it wasn’t a problem, that it didn’t change anything, that it was just a reaction. He could have used light, rehearsed words — the kind meant to close a subject.

  But seeing her head lowered like that — as if she were shrinking into herself — made Naruto feel an impulse that didn’t match the way he liked to operate.

  An impulse that didn’t ask permission from his mind.

  Instinctively, he pced one hand on her head and began to stroke it with extreme gentleness.

  The contact was soft, almost too careful, as if he were afraid of startling her.

  Hinata stiffened for a moment when she felt the touch; her body froze, as if a string inside her had been pulled tight. Naruto noticed and almost pulled his hand away immediately — but then she visibly rexed, as if the touch itself had said something words couldn’t. The blush on her cheeks deepened slightly, and even so, she didn’t pull away.

  Naruto maintained the gesture, sensing that there was something strangely… calm about it.

  He wasn’t calcuting. He wasn’t forming a strategy. He wasn’t trying to gain anything. He was only doing it because, in that moment, it felt right. And that feeling, as simple as it was, was dangerously different from normal.

  The two remained like that for a few minutes — a small silence, but not an uncomfortable one — until Naruto noticed some students watching them.

  He didn’t need to turn his head to know. It was the clear sensation of attention sticking to his skin. Children were naturally curious, and their curiosity was loud even when they weren’t saying anything. All it took was an unusual gesture to become a spectacle. All it took was a touch to become a story.

  Naruto stopped stroking her hair and pulled his hand back.

  Hinata, feeling the touch end, lifted her gaze — and when she realized they were being watched, her face heated up again, too quickly, as if the blood had rushed straight to her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands, as if trying to hide from the world.

  Naruto let out a resigned sigh.

  ‘This is what happens when you lose yourself in the moment.’

  He stayed quiet. He didn’t try to “fix” anything. He didn’t try to justify himself. He just let time do what it always did: push things forward.

  A little more time passed.

  Naruto watched the students arriving, one by one. He did it in a way that seemed completely natural — as if he were just looking for the sake of looking — but inside, he was registering, organizing, and reading everything. Who arrived with whom. Who looked at whom. Who avoided whom. Who asserted themselves. Who hid.

  That was when he saw a familiar figure enter.

  Naruto’s body didn’t move, but something inside him became more alert. It wasn’t fear. It was focus. Recognition.

  ‘Sasuke Uchiha.’

  The name surfaced automatically in Naruto’s mind.

  Sasuke entered as if he already knew he would be noticed. Not through overt arrogance — it was colder than that. It was as if he were isoted from the rest of the room by a different kind of silence. His gaze swept across the room quickly, then locked onto Naruto.

  When their eyes met, it felt as though sparks flew; the air grew slightly heavier.

  The two stared at each other for a few seconds.

  It wasn’t an open challenge. There were no words. But there was something there — the kind of silent “measurement” that happens when two wills brush against each other for the first time. Sasuke carried that closed-off demeanor, his expression controlled, as if everything were kept behind a locked door.

  Naruto, on the other hand, had the composure of someone who had already lived far too long for the age of his body.

  In the end, Sasuke shrugged and walked toward an empty seat in the corner of the room.

  Naruto remained silent.

  But only he knew what was going on in his mind.

  He knew what Sasuke carried. He knew what that path meant in the story the world seemed determined to repeat. He also knew that, sooner or ter, their paths would be forced against each other — by pride, by destiny, by outside manipution, or by poor choices.

  And Naruto hated the idea of being pushed.

  He watched Sasuke sit down and simply… exist there, as if the room were too small to contain what he was and what he wanted to become. Naruto took note. Not in words, but in sensation and evaluation.

  More people continued to arrive.

  Naruto recognized some of them: Kiba, Shino, and Sakura. Each carried a very particur kind of presence.

  Kiba seemed loud even before speaking, as if his body were always ready to take one step further than it should. Shino was the opposite — quiet in a way that felt intentional, as if silence were a tool. Sakura had a firmness in her gaze that made it seem like she was already trying to understand the room, choose where she fit, and prove something.

  Naruto let all of it sink in and stay.

  ‘Now only the Ino–Shika–Cho trio is missing, and all twelve of Konoha who are in this room will be present.’

  At that moment, Ino, Shikamaru, and Choji entered the cssroom.

  Choji was eating chips, as if the entire world were secondary to a bag of food. Shikamaru wore the expression of someone already tired of life, as if the simple act of being there was troublesome. And Ino immediately started scanning the room — quick, curious, reading faces with the ease of someone who naturally spotted patterns.

  When she spotted Naruto, her face flushed briefly before she started walking toward him.

  Naruto noticed immediately. Not because he was looking for it, but because he always noticed reactions. And that reaction was clear: surprise, interest, perhaps curiosity mixed with that adolescent vanity that hadn’t quite become full adolescence yet.

  Shikamaru noticed Ino’s actions and muttered something under his breath about women being troublesome.

  Naruto suppressed an almost automatic urge to smile. Not because he agreed — but because Shikamaru’s zy honesty was the kind of thing that rarely came with a mask. He spoke that way because it was how he felt, not because he wanted to make an impression.

  Ino stopped nearby, confident posture, easy smile.

  “Hi, my name’s Ino. Can I sit here?”

  Naruto didn’t react with surprise. He didn’t let his expression reveal much. He replied simply, naturally — as if this were normal, as if he had always been the kind of person who received others like that.

  “Sure. My name’s Naruto, and this is Hinata.”

  Hearing her name, Hinata looked at Ino and gave a timid wave.

  It was a small gesture, almost an apology for existing. Naruto noticed that too, and something about the scene struck him as… fragile. Ino was brightness, space, presence. Hinata was retreat, care, silence. Naruto stood between the two, and for a brief moment, it felt as though the world was pcing pieces on the board without asking whether he wanted to py.

  Ino waved back with a smile as she sat beside Naruto.

  Naruto noticed the way she settled in, as if she had already decided that this was the right pce. Ino wasn’t afraid to take up space. That was a kind of strength — and, depending on the day, it could also be a problem.

  Hinata grew a bit more rigid at his other side, as if Ino’s arrival had increased the pressure in the air. Naruto said nothing, didn’t try to “save” the situation. He simply maintained his presence. Sometimes, that was the most one could offer without forcing anything.

  Then the atmosphere in the room shifted.

  At that moment, someone entered the cssroom, drawing everyone’s attention.

  Conversations quieted, ughter stopped, and the children straightened up. Not because they all respected him — but because instinct recognized authority.

  “Good morning, css. My name is Iruka, and from today on, I’ll be your teacher.”

  Iruka entered with a firm but not aggressive posture. His gaze swept across the room in a practical way, like someone already organizing names, faces, and behaviors in his head. Naruto observed him in return. Iruka was an important piece — not because of raw power, but because of emotional influence. Naruto knew that. And no matter how much he tried to deny it, part of him always paid attention to people like that.

  Hinata was still red, but no longer hiding as much. Ino looked comfortable, as if the novelty were an amusement park. Sasuke remained isoted in the corner, untouched. Shikamaru already seemed like he wanted to go home. Choji… was eating.

  Naruto stayed quiet, staring forward like an ordinary student.

  But inside, he was organizing everything carefully.

  Because that was the beginning.

  (Early access chapters: see the bio.)