POV: Hiruzen Sarutobi
The hour was late, and the Hokage's office was quiet save for the gentle scratching of his pen against parchment. Hiruzen Sarutobi put the pen down with a sigh, rubbing his weary eyes. The paperwork was a mountain that never shrank. His gaze drifted to the crystal ball on his desk, a tool he used more often than he cared to admit, especially when his thoughts drifted to the village's most volatile secret.
With a whisper and a flicker of chakra, the orb swirled to life, the image within coalescing not on a council meeting or a border patrol, but on the dingy, small apartment of Naruto Uzumaki. Hiruzen had expected to see the boy sleeping, perhaps clutching the new frog wallet he'd had delivered.
Instead, the sight made the old Hokage straighten in his chair.
Naruto, drenched in sweat and breathing in ragged gasps, was on the floor of his living room, having just completed a final, shuddering push-up. The boy's arms trembled with an exhaustion so profound that Hiruzen could almost feel it through the crystal. After a moment, Naruto simply collapsed onto the floor, too tired to even move to his bed.
This had been the routine for a year now.
Outwardly, Naruto was the same. He was still last in his class, still pulling pranks that drove Iruka to distraction, still the loudmouthed dobe everyone dismissed. But in the quiet hours of the pre-dawn and the late evening, a different Naruto emerged. One with a discipline that would put a Chunin to shame.
Hiruzen puffed on his pipe, smoke curling towards the ceiling. He had seen the boy wearing the goggles he'd left, a silent gift. He'd also recognized the handiwork of the new jumpsuit—simple, practical, a style favored by his most enigmatic Anbu.
But this intensity… where did it come from? It wasn't the Kyuubi's influence; the malevolence he'd learned to recognize was absent. This was pure, unadulterated will. It was the spirit of Minato and Kushina shining through, yes, but it was being forged by something else. An unknown catalyst.
The secrecy was what worried him most. Why would a boy so desperate for acknowledgment train so hard only to hide it? A child with that much power and a secret of this magnitude was a dangerous variable.
"Inu," Hiruzen said to the empty air.
A flicker of movement in the corner of the room resolved into a kneeling Anbu, identified by a porcelain dog mask. "Hokage-sama."
"Your report on Naruto Uzumaki," Hiruzen commanded softly.
"The subject's routine is unchanged," the Anbu reported, his voice a dispassionate monotone that couldn't quite hide the underlying curiosity. "Grueling physical conditioning. No ninjutsu or genjutsu practice observed. His physical benchmarks are… anomalous for his age."
"Anomalous?"
"His stamina and resilience are extraordinary. He pushes his body to a point of failure that should require days of recovery, yet he is active and ready again in a matter of hours."
Hiruzen leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "Continue your surveillance, Inu. I want to know the source of this new discipline. Be discreet."
"As you command, Hokage-sama." With another flicker, the Anbu was gone.
Hiruzen looked back at the crystal ball, at the boy now fast asleep on his floor. "Oh, Naruto," he murmured to himself. "What path have you started walking?"
POV: Kakashi Hatake
The pre-dawn air was cold and sharp. From his perch on a high branch overlooking a secluded training ground, Kakashi Hatake watched. He was Inu, Anbu agent, but here, in the quiet solitude, he was just Kakashi, fulfilling a promise to his dead sensei.
Below, the subject of his surveillance—a small, blonde boy with more energy than sense—was methodically going through a set of exercises. Push-ups. Crunches. Squats. Simple, mundane, civilian exercises. But the numbers were what defied belief. He wasn't counting in tens; he was counting in hundreds. His form, once clumsy, was now ruthlessly efficient.
Kakashi, a prodigy even as a child, knew what the limits of a young body were. Naruto shattered them daily. He had been watching this secret regimen for months, and what he saw baffled him. There was no chakra involved. This was not shinobi training. It was something more brutal, more fundamental.
He also noticed the anomaly the Hokage was concerned about. Naruto's body was simply… tougher than it should be. Last week, the boy had stumbled during a run, tumbling hard onto the gravel path. An injury that should have scraped him up badly and left him limping instead saw him bounce back to his feet, shake it off, and continue running, barely breaking stride. It was as if his flesh was denser, his bones harder, his spirit tethered more strongly to his body. Kakashi had no framework for it. It was like comparing a standard kunai to one forged from a strange, unknown steel.
This isn't just a Jinchuriki's enhanced healing, Kakashi concluded, his single visible eye narrowed in thought. This is something else entirely. His very physiology is changing.
For now, he would obey the Hokage's orders. Watch. Report. But he would not interfere. Whatever secret Naruto was hiding, whatever strength he was building in the shadows while playing the fool in the light, he was doing it on his own terms. Kakashi, a man who lived his own life behind a mask, could respect that.
POV: Naruto
The moment Naruto's consciousness faded from the waking world, he found himself standing in the familiar, damp chamber of his mindscape. Garp was waiting, a wide grin on his face.
"Good work out there tonight," Garp boomed. "Your engine is getting stronger. I can feel it."
Naruto stretched his arms, feeling the phantom ache of his real-world muscles. "Old man, why do we have to do all that stuff out there? Why can't we just train in here all the time?"
Garp laughed. "Because your body is the engine, brat! The training out there builds that engine. It forges the steel, gives it more fuel, and prepares it for the stress of real power. The training in here," his grin sharpened, "is where I teach you how to drive. In this world, I can push you without worrying about you breaking your actual bones. Your mind learns the technique, and your body will remember. When your physical engine is strong enough, it'll be able to handle the techniques I'm teaching you."
He glanced up, as if looking through the ceiling of the mindscape. "Besides, we have an audience. The old man in the fancy hat and the masked weirdo who likes to climb trees. Let them see you doing push-ups. It's boring. It's confusing. It's much better than them seeing you kicking the air so hard you create a shockwave."
That made sense. Naruto turned to his teacher, his eyes burning with determination. "So? What's the first of the Six… Powers?"
"Rokushiki," Garp corrected. "And we start with the foundation of defense: Tekkai, the Iron Body."
He explained the principle. To tense every single muscle in your body at the moment of impact, making your flesh as hard as steel. It required immense physical control and strength.
"Now," Garp said, standing before Naruto. "Brace yourself. Tense everything."
Naruto did as he was told, puffing out his chest and squeezing every muscle he could. "Okay! I'm ready!"
Garp casually poked him in the stomach with one spectral finger.
The force of the poke, despite being non-physical, sent a shockwave through Naruto's body, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling into the water.
"Wha—?! That was just a poke!" Naruto sputtered, coughing up mind-water.
"And you folded like wet paper!" Garp roared with laughter. "This, brat, is the gap between you and what you can become. Now, get up! We go again. And again. And again. Until my finger breaks against your stomach!"
Naruto groaned, but as he pushed himself up, a familiar, stubborn grin returned to his face. He didn't care how many times he got knocked down. Here, in the one place he was truly known, he would always get back up.