I have recieved a couple of very flattering requests asking to adopt certain of my stories that were believed to be dead. While I have absolutely no objection to someone writing a story based off of or inspired by one of mine, I regret to announce that none of my stories are dead, save for the possible exception of 'Bloody Harry' which I have no specific intention to continue. I do most of my writing on the TFF forums, and even then I lead a fairly busy lifestyle most of the time - as a result, please don't be surprised if weeks or months go by without an update.

I had most of this chapter written already, some months back. I endedup finishing it off and posting it mostly as a way of getting this message across, because I couldn't figure out how to PM people, and i didn't know the email.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Any appropriate criticism or advice would be appreciated.

Thanks

Tungsten

Chapter 1, In the Belly of the Bow

Naruto typically rose with the sun, and at this time of the year that was early. That was okay. He could get some extra sleep in class if he had to, but if he wanted to get his drills done before the academy started, he'd need to start soon.

He slipped into a loose pair of sweats and a t-shirt before grabbing a large shoulder pack set by the door of his apartment and sitting down to buckle on his sandals securely. He made a quick stop at his fridge to grab an apple that he stuck in his pocket and a sealed plastic bag from the freezer compartment. The frozen bag was placed into an insulated container in his pack and he set off, kicking the door shut in his wake with the practiced manner that he knew would cause the latch to fall shut.

He took a moment to enjoy the cool morning air before he shouldered his pack and headed off. The start of his morning's training was just running, although it was a run that would have killed a lesser man, as it took place at high speeds over large periods of time.

The track he ran was common enough, and he knew that if he showed up an hour or so later he would have company on his run, from several ninjas who were also performing their morning drills. The privacy offered by this unholy hour was yet another reason he forced himself to endure it. As he sped around Konoha's inner walls, taking care to move with as much grace and silence as his speed would allow, he began the next phase of his training. Picking small points in the scenery around him to focus on, and using no chakra yet, he began to blink, each time allowing himself only a fragment of a second to observe the world around him. As he did he concentrated on using those tiny shreds of time to garner a picture of his surroundings.

This was an archer's key skill. To be able to know the world around you enough, in a split second, to pick a target and set your aim correctly. Anyone could have fast hands, and that was the only requirement for fast shooting, but to have every one of the dozen or so shots you might have in the air at any one point find their target with accuracy and precision, that was the technique of a true archer.

After a time, feeling that he had some grasp over this technique, he closed his eyes. Gently stirring his chakra from deep within his belly, he brought slender threads of it up into his head, tying it in familiar patterns between his eyes and brain following the path of his optic nerve. Taking a moment to check his technique, he was satisfied with its perfection and let go of the chakra, silently observing it settle into the well practiced pattern, a new chakra path forming a circuit between his eyes and visual cortex. It was only temporary and needed fresh chakra to maintain itself; without it the cords of chakra were already beginning to fray. Quickly he let loose some of the restraints in his chakra, letting it burn a lightning path through his body and up his spine, letting it fill the new circuit and feeling the familiar pulse behind his eyes of released potential.

Opening his eyes again, he blinked in the morning light. It wasn't the first time he had used this technique, but it always shocked him what his eyes were capable of, given a little encouragement. His speed had increased slightly as well – a side effect of letting his chakra run free. He sped up a little more, until he could once more feel the burn, and began to train his eyes again.

This training was a little different than before, although to an outsider it would appear the same. Previously, his eyes had been working at an insufficient level and he had been working to expand that, to get them to send him more information. Now his eyes were working far harder, sending him vastly more information and his job was different – to focus through the rush of data, paring it down only to information that was useful to him. From the vast wealth of light and shapes and colour, he gradually began to exclude much of it. With each blink, he chose a target and focused on it utterly. With each blink he stripped away the surroundings to their most basic – simple shapes and colours, with a special attention paid to anything that might be dangerous – and even that was almost too much.

Almost.

He didn't need to know the shape of the cracks in the street or what someone's dog had eaten yesterday, so he cut it out. He didn't particularly want to discard all that information, but he had little choice – until his mind had grown enough to handle what that technique threw at him, he had to let most of it pass him by. He managed, just.

Blinking furiously, the young blonde ran on.

After about an hour of running, he began to wind it up, letting the chakra fade from his eyes and the circuit dissolve, coming slowly to a stop in a familiar training ground set a little away from the village proper, covered in straw and paper targets for the purpose of distance weapons training.

He first flopped to the ground in the shade of a large tree and ate his apple, calming his growling stomach and letting the burn fade from his muscles. His body healed quickly, as it always did, and by the time he finished his breakfast he felt whole again.

Standing and stretching in the light of a sun just beginning to rise above the tree line, he snagged the insulated container from his pack and divested it of its contents. A casual seal summoned a handful of clones around him all watching him with eager expectation. Ripping open the plastic bag and gesturing for them to hold out their hands, he divided its contents – revealed to be ice cubes – among them.

"You know what to do. Get to it." The clones shot off among the targets, while he returned to his pack and poured its contents out onto the grass. It was revealed to be a number of sticks – unstrung bows – from which he sorted, muttering to himself as he did. Eventually he picked one, plucked a string from a pocket in the side of his pack, and strung the bow in one practised motion.

"This one today, I think." The bow he had chosen was a gracefully recurved composite longbow, made of maple wood, sinew and horn glued together and laminated. Although his initial archery experience had been with Kyudo, he was not blind to the flaws of that art. Despite having a long history, the Daikyu and its shorter cousin, the Hankyu had an awkward draw for him, and a size that inhibited mobility of the wielder. The old man he had originally learnt from was aware of this too, using a modified Daikyu shorter than the standard – or a longer Hankyu - which he found easier to use as he grew older. The main purpose of Kyudo for Naruto was to help him learn the discipline and proper shooting style giving a natural release, then applying it to more efficient bows.

In the years following his initial archery experience, before he grew enough to practise archery directly, he spent his time studying the history of archery and learning about different styles of bows and arrows. Almost every civilisation in the history of the world had had their own unique types, and Naruto saw the mastery of them all as the first step towards making his own style, to best suit him. He had adapted existing exercises and invented new ones, working tirelessly to grow and expand his art.

Finishing checking his bow over for flaws, he gave it a few practice pulls, and turned to address his clones.

"All done?" They nodded and disappeared in a puff of smoke. "Good."

He searched through the scrolls left at the bottom of his pack until he found the one with the label describing his current bow, removing it and packing away the rest of his bows to protect them from moisture on the ground. Opening the scroll, a stripe of blood down its length and a surge of chakra led to another puff of smoke, which revealed a simple quiver when it cleared, containing the correct size and style of arrow for his current weapon of choice.

He hung the bag from a low hanging branch for a second and slung the bow and quiver on top of it, before shucking his shirt and summoning another clone.

"You couldn't have got one of the others to do this for you," it snarked as it stepped forward, "and why aren't you summoning us the new way, huh?"

"I forgot, okay," Naruto smiled sheepishly, "and it's too early for control-intensive techniques. I'm only barely awake, yet."

"Well whose fault is that?" The clone crossed his arms, "I'm not looking at this 'til you do it right." He puffed out.

Naruto swore, but focused his chakra again. This time, rather than puffing into existence around him, his image seemed to split until three of him stood next to one another. "Good enough for you, Perfectionists. Honestly, I don't know why you insist…"

"That's fine," one clone started. The other one finished, "but you know you're only complaining to yourself, don't you." "I mean, you know the benefits" "as well as we do." "Reduced chakra cost," "sturdier clones," "increased independence," "and to top it off, someone watching has no idea which of the Narutos is the original." "If you don't let it slip, that is." "Now, let's take a look at you…"

Naruto's eyes had been darting back and forth from one clone to the other as they spoke. He was getting dizzy. "You know I hate it when you do that."

The clones shrugged and one puffed out of existence. The remaining two paused momentarily as they received its memories, but the moment passed with the ease of practice. "And I hate it when you insist on calling us 'you' instead of 'I', but all you have to do is only call one of us"

Naruto pouted and replied sulkily, "You do that too. The 'you' thing I mean."

"Because you insist on it. Now are you going to let me check you or should I just go." The remaining clone stepped forward to see Naruto better. His eyes took on a faint internal glow that Naruto knew meant he had enhanced his sight, enough to see the lines of light underneath the originals skin that were only very faintly visible to a normal eye. After long moments of examining his chest and back, the clone demanded: "Legs." Naruto lifted the legs of his sweat pants, displaying his legs up to the knees to his clone. After a few moments the clone nodded and tapped the grey bands circling the originals ankles. "Looks good, but it's getting time for you to increase these. They've been the same for months now…"

"It hasn't been that long, and with the seals…"

"The seals," the clone interrupted, "are a completely different exercise, as you know well. If you don't want to work then don't work, but making excuses is really pathetic." He gave one last look over Naruto, apparently satisfied with what he saw. "But the seals are fine, in any case. You don't really need to have us check them every day you know. If they haven't destabilised by now…."

Naruto gave a dismissive gesture and turned around to collect his bow and quiver. Behind him he heard a sigh and the puff of his clone dismissing itself. He felt it's memories become part of himself as he grabbed his weapon and took his place about 70 feet from the nearest target.

It wasn't that he was ignoring his weight training, it was just that he preferred to do much more intense training on weekends, when he didn't have to be able to function in a social or academic situation for the whole of the day and he could afford to work himself into oblivion. If he tried to do that now, he'd be useless for the rest of the day or longer. His clones knew that as well as he did, they just wanted to piss him off. He remembered once hearing that it would be hard to truly like anyone you knew really well. He had known his clones for nearly seven years now and he was beginning to understand that. That his clones were effectively the same as him led him to some pretty weird conclusions that he wasn't really ready confront just yet.

He cleared his mind and focused on the targets. His previous Kage Bunshin had set the targets swinging slowly in the breeze, and suspended and ice cube above each one, tied with string. The ice cubes were just beginning to melt in the early sun. He slung the quiver over one shoulder and grabbed an arrow from it, setting it to the string of his bow. The arrow was of his own make and good quality. Focusing his mind on it as he pulled the string back to his cheek, it served to calm his mind.

As he watched the nearest target swing gently, his breathing slowed and his yes sharpened. He waited. Waiting had been, in a way both the hardest and easiest thing he had had to learn. He had had to be patient as a child out of necessity. People didn't like him, so they always put off dealing with him as long as possible. He was used to being served last. But waiting deliberately, with intent? That was new to him and it didn't come easy. It just wasn't natural for him, but it was a necessary skill and over the years he came close to mastering it. Now he put those skills to good use.

It was the last lesson the old man had ever taught him before Sandaime's visit ended and they returned to Konoha. It was a lesson he'd learned by example, being too young to draw the bow at the time, but had learnt all the same. "There's always a moment," he'd said. "All you have to do…Your only job…is to wait for it." At that point in Naruto's life, it was easier said than done.

He focused first upon the arrow in his hand, tracing its line until he reached the razor sharp bodkin pointed arrowhead. He followed the line to the target he was focusing on, and then raised his gaze slightly – without altering his aim – to see the ice cube suspended above it. The early sun was having predictable effects on the ice cube, and as he watched a film of moisture appeared on its surface. Wait for it. The moisture gathered into a single, small droplet making its way down the side of the cube, growing slightly in size as it did. Wait for it. The droplet was now hanging from the lowest point of the cube, shuddering ponderously in the breeze and growing with accumulated water. Wait for it. Suddenly the droplet disconnected, the water falling from the cube. Not yet. He tracked the droplet as it fell, spinning and deforming. Nearly. Its path continued, descending past the level of the target's outer ring. Nearly. Spinning. Now!

The arrow leaped from his bow and sped towards the target. He watched with a quiet satisfaction as it connected cleanly with the water droplet then continued on to imbed itself cleanly in the bullseye. These exercises always left him feeling as calm and serene as the water he aimed at.

He smiled and took aim again.

Half an hour later the ice was all melted and his fingers and wrists were both aching from repeated abuse by the bowstring. He had practiced shooting with either hand and had failed to use his wrist guards. There was a purpose to that. He had realised the punishment his hands and wrists would take long ago and had begun a curious type of training, incorporating iron skin and iron finger techniques with the ultimate purpose of being able to do without finger or wrist protection entirely. He was gradually reaching a level he considered satisfactory, and was considering extending his training to cover the rest of his body. The iron body technique was levels above what he knew himself to be capable of at this point, but it was a worthy goal all the same.

He collected his wrist guards – sombre, leather creations that fit well and were well worn – and was slipping them on over abused flesh when he heard a cheery greeting. Turning, he was entirely unsurprised to see Konoha's premier thrown weapon specialist standing near the entrance to the training ground. He flung a greeting back her way and secured the guards tightly around his wrists, clenching his hands a few times to test their fit.

Tenten had devoted her career to gaining an absolute mastery of thrown weapons and was considered by those in the know – and by herself – as the last word in long distance combat. When they had met years ago, she had been understandably intrigued by his passion for archery, and had initiated several conversations. Naruto would have been more enamoured of her if half of those conversations hadn't been on the subject of why archery was outdated, and wouldn't he like to try a real ninja's weapon. Eventually she had given up on convincing him otherwise, though she never failed to make her opinions clear. Naruto for his part was fairly adept by that point at ignoring the things people said about him, and hadn't considered the matter worth fighting over. Since that time they had trained together on occasion, although less often recently as she had joined a genin team last year and their timetables had become too different to schedule anything.

"Did you want to train together today?" She did not sound especially fond of the prospect. Usually their training consisted of picking targets for one another and trying to top the others feats. Recently she had taken to training with her teammates, which she said gave better combat experience. Since then she was less inclined to take part in what she considered childish displays of skill against Naruto.

Naruto shook his head, "No, not today thanks. I've already done my distance training for this morning, but I have to do some close up work. I've been letting it slip recently. I'm heading over to the training ground near the lake to do some close combat practise."

If Tenten did attempt to hide her relief, it was a bad attempt. She hadn't let anyone watch her solo training for months. Not since she started carrying scrolls around in her ninja pouch. Naruto spent a few moments letting his mind wander over what her new technique might be as he jogged around the targets, collecting arrows and arrowheads from arrows that had been split. He tossed the rest of the debris in a pile out of the way and unstrung his bow, putting everything back into the scrolls and packs they had come from. He offered a quick farewell to Tenten and jogged away.

The lake training ground was rarely ever used for its true purpose. It had failed to be upgraded following the Kyuubi's attack like the rest, and so completely lacked any training equipment. There were no traps or training dummies or anything of the sort. It was just a grass-bound field with a small hill set on the banks of a wide lake.

It had actually become a rather popular hangout for older shinobi who wanted a romantic place to bring their dates. Naruto knew that had he come at sunset rather than early in the morning, there would probably have been a few lovers admiring the view from the banks, or maybe having a picnic, or a swim.

For his purposes, and at this hour of the day, it was merely a rather photogenic place to train. One virtue of having abnormally huge chakra reserves and a shadow clone jutsu in his arsenal was that he was never at a loss for a training partner. There were downsides of course, such as that the only non-lethal moves he could use were grapples, as anything else would end the existence of the clones and shorten his training prematurely, but he solved this problem quite simply by creating vast numbers to spar against and by developing a style that consisted of primarily lethal manoeuvres.

He had no illusions about his own fighting ability at this range. He was capable, certainly, but no genius. Better than average, but he had specialised too much to truly succeed in this field. If he was fighting a taijutsu specialist at close range, he knew better than anyone that his best chance for survival, let alone victory, was to lengthen the range somehow. Move the battle back from close range to long range where he could truly shine.

Now he reached into his bag again and pulled out a leather belt with two holsters arranged on it. He slung it around his waist, shifting the holsters to cross at the small of his back, where they wouldn't interfere with his movements. In a quick motion he emptied both holsters, pulling twin blades into his hands. The blades were long knives, double-edged and longer than most people found comfortable, at nearly a foot each without the handles. He had practiced with thinner, lighter, single-edged blades before, but eventually found that the heavier models suited him better, and the double-edge gave him more flexibility in his strikes. Probably they weren't quite as razor sharp as a lighter model might have been, but their added weight let him use them as shields more effectively, which was useful considering he often found himself playing a defensive game at lose range. The handles were leather wrapped and custom molded to fit in his grip perfectly.

The knives were the product of Tenten's father. Himself not a ninja, he was a skilled blacksmith who had passed his love of weapons onto his daughter. He was also one of a very small group of people who knew of his love of archery and didn't disapprove of it in some way. His love of weaponry, both modern and ancient was enough to overcome what everyone – including his daughter – constantly informed him was an outdated weapon. A relic in modern ninja society.

The knives were, he freely admitted, not his best work. He tended to work on the kunai and shuriken that were so popular with his daughter and other shinobi. He occasionally put his hand to a katana or ninjato, depending on requests. He kept a full stock of more obscure weapons, such as kusari, sai, spears, axes, and so on, but the knives were new to him. Leaf ninjas tended to prefer, smaller, speedier weapons, that were light enough to carry without slowing them down and, if possible to conduct chakra. That was the system he had built his business around, although he usually subcontracted out the chakra work to a ninja who knew the proper seals and needed the money.

Making heavier, longer weapons was a skill practiced more in the mist, where being able to spring from tree to tree without slowing down was less of a survival skill.

Still, he had turned his hand to it on Naruto's request, and created a serviceable set of plain steel daggers. Seeing that they had turned out below par – according to his high standards – he had let Naruto buy them for a reduced price. Naruto had always been thankful. Perfection was something he demanded from himself in his archery. Up close, and in his knifework, being merely adequate was enough.

After checking their edges and grips, he resheathed the knives and stepped out onto the surface of the lake, trying to avoid making ripples, but only achieving partial success. Giving up on improving his water-walking technique any time soon, he made a seal and his image split dozens of times, giving a few hundred clones all standing, poised on the surface of the lake, surrounding him.

He spread his feet, widening his stance on the water and lifted his hands to guard his body and face if necessary. He didn't draw his blades yet, iron finger training had certain other advantages than just using it to draw his bow, and he usually waited for one of his clones to pull its own knives before he resorted to it. He watched his clones carefully. A few had unsealed one of the scrolls he had left on the shore in his pack, and were now handing out staffs and bokken among the group. Even if he preferred knives, he felt it was a useful exercise to defend against various other weapons, and armed his clones with them accordingly. Not many ninja's used staffs, he knew, and only a small fraction of the total make any real use of swords, but he knew that the vast majority of the enemies he faced would be bandits or mercenaries, staffs were useful weapons of opportunity, and swords were fairly common too.

When the weapons were distributed among the clones, they charged. There was no command, or preparation. That would have been a waste of breath. They knew and he knew how this would end, and both were eager to bring it to its conclusion. Naruto dodged a thrown rock from one of the clones who had chosen to stay on the bank. He met the first clone with a knife hand to the neck, and felled the second with a well placed knuckle to the temple, above the ear where the skull was thinnest. He dodged the swing of a bokken, and took a second on his wrist guard, taking the opportunity to place his enemy in the path of another thrown rock.

Having cleared a space around him, he lashed out with feet and fists alike, aiming for vital spots and weak areas. Archery had given him knowledge of anatomy, and practice had showed him just how fragile the human body can be. He thrust a finger up to the third knuckle into a clone's lower back – where the kidneys were located - and received a glancing hit to his ribs for the trouble. The roundhouse kick that followed was a tremendously sloppy move, but it cleared him some space, which served him well as a clone leaped forward, blades unsheathed. In a second, his own blades were in his hands, and the wind chakra surrounding them – what little control over it he had managed to learn – cleaved through his opponents shielding blade like putty, finishing off embedded in its skull to the hilt.

Around him was a flurry of movement, as at least half the clones unsheathed knives, and keen eyes caught the telltale glow of wind natured chakra surrounding more than a few. A tight grin split his face and he stepped forward, blades leading.

Even if CQC wasn't his forte, this was going to be fun.

Some time later, Naruto stood wearily at the centre of an otherwise empty lake. The waters, which had been stirred to a frenzy by the violent chakras colliding on it's surface, now began to calm. Naruto resheathed his knives in a practiced movement and steadied his breath, already relaxing from his exertions. He closed his eyes for a second as he let his mind slip easily into the Zen-like calm he found when practising his archery. He stood like that for some time as he sorted through the influx of information from the deceased clones. In battle, he only took in the most vital of information, letting the rest go ignored until he had the leisure to deal with it. That time was now.

His standing meditation was interrupted by a throat being cleared from the bank. Turning, and opening his eyes, he found himself face to face with the last of the remaining clones he had made. The clone gave a pointed look at Naruto and gestured at the sky. Lifting his head, Naruto shaded his eyes as he glanced at the sun, estimating the time from its position in the sky. It had already risen enough for the last of the night's chill to be driven off, and it was looking to be a hot day.

"So I'll be a little late getting to the academy, so what? It wouldn't be the first time."

His clone looked at him in mixed disbelief and annoyance. "I can't believe you've forgotten. Today…" He trailed off, shaking his head in disgust, before shimmering and disappearing as he dismissed himself.

Naruto's eyes flickered for a second as he processed the data received, before flicking wide open in surprise.

"Shit! Graduation is today! Dammit!"

He hadn't got the time to go home and clean up first, so a quick seal sent a clone winging towards his possessions with firm orders to collect the scattered weapons and pack them all up. He himself let the chakra on the soles of his feet fail, and instantly fell into the clear lake water. He spent a few minutes scrubbing his hands though his hair and over his exposed skin before extending his chakra again and rising from the water as though shot from a bow, soaked through, but no longer quite as ripe as before his dip.

The clone dispersed as it handed him the pack, and then he was off, racing through training grounds until he reached Konoha proper, and then over roofs and through streets in a desperate dash for the academy. Between the heat of the sun and the windshear from his speed, he was mostly dry by the time he arrived, and he flung himself through the corridors with ever increasing urgency, upsetting a number of teachers and no few students wandering those same corridors at the time.

Inside the classroom, Iruka was taking roll.

"Uchiha Sasuke?"

The boy in question, who was currently leaning on his arms in his seat, raised one briefly in answer to the call of his name. Aspiring kunoichi sitting on either side and dotted around the room sighed deeply, mourning a missed opportunity to hear his voice.

Iruka noted down his presence and moved down the list, "Uzumaki Naruto?"

Silence.

He tried again, "Uzumaki Naruto?"

Cricket's chirped.

He sighed, silently deciding to try one last time, disappointed in his students absence.

"Uzumaki Naruto? Has anyone seen him?"

You could have heard a pin drop, even without super shinobi-senses.

He sighed again and lowered his pen to the page in front of him to mark the boy absent. Maybe he could pass next year. The pen was just shy of touching the paper when the door burst open, and a panting blonde slid into the room with a screech of burning rubber and a violent exultation.

"SAFE! I'm here, Iruka-sensei. Konoha's future Hokage has arrived"

Iruka let out a breath in relief, though it didn't show on his face. He looked for a moment at the blond child in damp sweats, with his only visual concession to his chosen occupation being the wrist guards and knives in their holsters.

"IDIOT! You were almost late! Take your seat now"

Chagrined, the blonde did as he was told, unbuckling his knives before he sat, and dropping them in his pack, which he set at his feet. He was unlikely to be attacked in the academy with no warning, so he felt no need to go armed as some of his peers were wont to do. Finished, he returned his attention to Iruka-sensei, who had begun to speak again.

The man detailed the basic form of the graduation test, pausing briefly to greet his colleague as Mizuki entered the room, and avoiding giving too many details to the eager audience.

The two retreated into an adjoining room and started to call in the students one at a time. Naruto watched nervously as his peers returned from the room either triumphantly as new Genin, or miserably, as failures, a pain he knew too well from his previous attempts at the test. Somehow the test was always on Bunshin no Jutsu, and the old man had forbidden him from using Kage Bunshin to pass it. He had by now more than the required control to achieve Bunshin, but still had a dismal success rate with it. It was hard to concentrate on learning a new Jutsu, when you knew you already knew a version of the same technique that would be infinitely more useful to you. He hoped against hope that the test would be different this time, but was unsurprised when his name was called and the details of the test were revealed to him.

Accuracy had been no problem. Even if it wasn't his chosen weapon, he could still hit a fist sized vital spot over a range of twenty feet with a nine out of ten success rate or better. Likewise with taijustu. He was a little worn out from the morning's exertions, but was more than energetic to fend off Mizuki-sensei for a five minute period, especially as he seemed to be going easier than he usually did. He demonstrated the dispelling technique with no difficulty, although they didn't put him under an actual genjutsu, and he didn't mention that he knew a more advanced method of freeing himself.

Then came the ninjutsu test.

"Alright, Naruto," Iruka-sensei's voice was encouraging. He was proud of Naruto's efforts so far, but knew it all came down to this. "For your ninjutsu test, please perform the Bunshin jutsu." Sitting back, he waited for the boy in front of him to do something. Next to him, Mizuki-sensei leaned forward eagerly, resting his elbows on the table, and his chin on his hands.

Naruto sighed deeply as his fears were realised. Knowing there was nothing else to do, however, he prepared himself to make his best effort. He had practised ahead of time, and knew precisely what he was going to try to do – if he succeeded, his grade wouldn't be great, but it should be a pass at least.

Internally, he cursed the ninjutsu portion of the test for being worth so much of the grade, but dismissed those thoughts from his mind – they weren't going to help him now.

He closed his eyes, bringing his hands up into a familiar seal before his chest. Breathing deeply, he was gratified to realise that his chakra was a little calmer than usual, courtesy of his morning exercises, no doubt. Scraping together a bare remnant of the Zen-like state of mind he had achieved during training, he brought his chakra to bear.

"Bunshin no jutsu."

Chakra rushed out of him – a bare droplet really, but he could feel it all the same – and he felt it settling into the air beside him.

Opening his eyes, he quickly swivelled to look, finding himself staring into the eyes of his twin. The intangible clone looked a tad pale, perhaps, but that could just be nervousness. In all other respects he was perfect.

Grinning ecstatically, he turned back to his examiners. His plan had worked perfectly – focus everything into the construction of a single Bunshin, don't try to do more than one, don't push your luck. Just succeed.

And he had, and he'd managed it, and now he was going to finally be a ninja, and...

"I'm sorry, Naruto, but you fail."

...what?

Mizuki watched nervously as Naruto attempted the jutsu. He'd already worked out all the details and signed the deal, so it was too late to back out now. If the brat didn't come through and fail like he was supposed to...

Caught up in his own thoughts, he almost missed what happened, so he was shocked when he found himself staring at a pair of Naruto's standing next to each other.

How could that idiot succeed!? And what the hell was he supposed to do now?

Mizuki was interrupted from his burgeoning panic by Iruka's sorrowful voice.

"I'm sorry, Naruto, but you fail."

Huh?

Naruto's stunned silence gave way to vociferous objection, cut short as Iruka spoke again.

"All the other passing students managed three clones each, and you only did one. I'm happy you've improved, Naruto, but it would be irresponsible of me to let you become a Genin with just that level of ability."

Of course...good, old, dependable Iruka - never mind that any other examiner would have let the brat pass. Iruka always was a stickler for this kind of stuff.

Mizuki smiled behind his hands - time to be the good guy.

"Come on, Iruka. He managed one clone well enough and where in the rules does it say he can't do that." He threw a friendly smile at Naruto. "I say we pass him and from there on it'll be his Jounin-sensei's responsibility to see that he improves."

This was perfect. It was working even better than he planned. After Iruka failed the brat, he'd still get to seem like the good guy, so he wouldn't be questioned when he explained the 'advanced Genin test' he had planned, and...

"Well...maybe you're right, Mizuki."

...what?

Naruto watched helplessly as his two examiners decided his future. He'd been shocked when Iruka-sensei had failed him, and even more surprised when Mizuki-sensei spoke up on his behalf – not that he knew the guy that well or anything, but he'd learnt over the years it was safest just to assume everyone hated him until the proved different, and Mizuki never had.

He felt almost dizzy watching Iruka seemingly ponder Mizuki's advice, flicking through his papers as though checking something. By the time he spoke again, the blonde was almost ready to faint.

"Well...maybe you're right, Mizuki." No, that couldn't be right, Iruka-sensei never went back on his decisions – he was famous for it. "Wasn't there that Lee kid last year who got by on even less with that Jounin sponsoring him...?"

"Alright, Naruto," Iruka-sensei was addressing him now. Pay attention. "What you did is technically a pass, but I wouldn't normally allow it because it fails to show that you have the capability to successfully use that jutsu, even if you can still technically perform it. Still..." he watched Naruto severely over his papers for a moment before his countenance lightened, "...you have demonstrated satisfactory abilities in other areas, so..."

Naruto interrupted, "So I pass?" Mizuki's smile seemed to have frozen in place.

Iruka waved the excitable youth down. "Yes, you pass, but let me finish." He waited for Naruto to settle down before continuing. "I want you to swear to me that you'll continue training in this area. I know it should be your Jounin-sensei's responsibility to teach you, but I want you to do this." He sighed, "It might seem silly, here in the academy, but on missions, a properly executed Bunshin can save your life. I'll pass you on the condition that you develop an effective clone skill as quickly as possible."

Holding the forehead protector in one hand, he extended the other for Naruto to shake.

Hardly believing the turn of events, Naruto was still for a moment before he shook himself into action and reached out to grasp his teacher's hand. Grinning widely, he replied.

"No problem. You've got yourself a deal." Taking the forehead protector, and taking a moment to trace the leaf symbol on it reverently, he bowed to both examiners and – grasping his prize tightly – scurried from the room.

Stopping outside to grin at the empty classroom – his name had been the last to be called, and everyone else had left after their exams – he tied the cloth band around his temples, adjusting the metal plate until it was centred. He grimaced slightly at the final result – the band cut slightly into his peripheral vision. It wasn't a lot, but he relied on his sight, so...

He pushed it up a little – much better, but still not perfect, and it could still slip in battle. Frowning, he took it off. Wearing it was a matter of pride, and he had intended to wear it as it was intended, but unless he managed to solve this problem, that was off the cards. He wasn't willing to cripple the fighting style he had worked so hard on over a matter of pride.

Truthfully, it wasn't such a big deal. The intrusion into his vision was minimal, and it wasn't like he hadn't made a point of training in low light conditions so as not to be totally reliant on vision, but even so it was without a doubt his most important sense for combat, and he wasn't willing to take the risk.

He'd figure something out.

Slightly less exuberant than before, but still happy, Naruto stuffed the forehead protector into his pocket and wandered away.

Mizuki seethed. Iruka was going over the last of the paperwork for the exams and babbling on about this year's graduates, but Mizuki was hardly listening. His focus was on one graduate in particular.

Why, for the love of god, did Iruka have to choose then to suddenly go crazy? Why Uzumaki Naruto instead of any of the other losers to attempt the exam? What about the little demon-brat had suddenly urged Iruka – a notoriously stringent examiner – to grow a heart?

And what the hell was he supposed to do now?

Backing out of the deal was impossible, and deadly for him even to try. Similarly failure. He couldn't just substitute another brat – he'd already given all the details for the academy student he was most sure would fail (not to mention would most like to see fail and be hunted as a traitor) and everyone involved expected him.

Truthfully, some of his co-conspirators had only agreed to help after learning that Naruto was going to take the fall for it.

His options were limited. In fact, under the circumstances, there was only one course of action he could reasonably take.

He surprised Iruka by standing suddenly, pushing his chair away as he did so. He muttered some excuse and quickly made his escape, leaving Iruka to finish the paperwork.

He had preparations to make.

Naruto was celebrating his success. His first course of action was to head home so he could wash up properly.

Next, he got dressed. His usual faire would involve a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt – simple, comfortable and cheap (although the latter applied to pretty much everything he owned). Today being what it was, he decided to dress up a little, quickly throwing on his best outfit – a brilliant orange jumpsuit he had come across somewhere a few years ago and fallen in love with. It still fit, mostly, just a little short at the ankles and wrists. He'd have to let it out some when he had the chance, but he had a sinking feeling that he wouldn't be able to fit in it for too much longer. A pity.

Still, it was nice he was finally growing.

During his personal grooming session, a shadow clone or two had been racing around the apartment, grabbing a few items he'd need later and stuffing it all into a bag for him. Satisfied with his appearance, he dismissed them, grabbed the bag and headed out the door.

After all, if he was celebrating, there was only one place to start.

Ichiraku ramen was a special place. At least to Naruto it was. For longer than he could actually remember, it had always been the place he went to or was taken to whenever he needed cheering up. He couldn't remember his first visit, or who was responsible for introducing him to the humble ramen stand, but he was sincerely thankful for it.

Somewhere along the way, he'd started coming here not only when he was down and needed cheering up, but also when he was in a good mood and wanted to spread it around, as he did today.

Since getting his own place some years ago, and starting to manage his own time, a visit to Ichiraku's had become part of his daily routine. He didn't always go there to eat – his budget was stretched a little thin for that kind of extravagance, especially with the amount he ate taken into consideration – but a word of greeting and some friendly chatting with the old man and his young daughter Ayame always served to brighten his day, and he suspected – or at least hoped – that they felt the same way.

So it was that Ayame exhibited no surprise whatsoever as he strolled up, smiling cheerfully as she waved him over and nudged her father into alertness, from where he had been dozing at the counter.

Looking around as he pulled himself onto one of the stools, he figured he must have just missed the lunch rush.

He exchanged greetings with the pair, asked them what was new in their lives. He listened to their answers and asked insightful questions, even going so far as to offer a little advice to Ayame in regards to a personal problem she was having, although whether he was qualified to comment and whether she would take his advice on the matter he'd have to find out another time.

As they spoke, Ayame and her father moved with practiced skill to question Naruto on his order, and seconds later, place a steaming bowlful of his chosen meal before him – the bowl actually being poured even before the selection was made, having successfully predicted his choice.

Naruto ate with a passion, scooping noodles and broth into his mouth with a joy that was plain to see, but still managed to pay attention to his friends as they brought him up to date on their lives.

Finally, the pair exhausted their topic of conversation and, following a brief pause to serve more ramen, asked Naruto what was new with him, as both they and he had wanted from the start.

Of course they knew the significance of the date. Even had Naruto not mentioned it some days ago, even had it not been the hot topic of conversation with the rest of their customers, several of whom had friends or relatives or friends of relatives who were in the academy, they had still lived and worked in Konoha for longer than Naruto had been alive, and had seen the passing of many academy graduation days.

More importantly though, they both had lived and worked in Konoha for the past three years, each one of which would be punctuated by Naruto's misery on this day as he failed yet again to pass the academy's stringent graduation exam.

Both were eager, though worried for Naruto's sake, to hear the news of whether or not he had succeeded this time, or whether he would be returning to the academy for yet another year.

Having used their friendly banter as a chance to psyche himself up, Naruto finally revealed the events of his Genin exam as a wide grin grew across his face.

Both were ecstatic for him, with Ayame leaning across the counter to draw him up into a hug that made Naruto aware – and not for the first time – just how well proportioned she was, and the old man gleefully pulling out a massive bowl from beneath the counter and filling it up.

"Hokage special size, boy. I've been holding onto this bowl for three years now, just in case. Not just for anyone, y'know."

"That's right, Naruto-kun." Ayame jumped in. "That bowl represents a promise. Eat out of it and you have to become the Hokage, just like you always said you would."

"It's not the kind of thing we could trust to an academy student, y'know, but to a Genin...well, that's a whole different matter."

"You've taken the first step, Naruto-kun, but it won't get any easier from here on in."

"So, boy, are you prepared? If you are, just eat that...then hurry up and become Hokage so you can make Ichiraku ramen Konoha's signature dish."

It was a moment before Naruto could do or say anything, caught between knowing whether to laugh or cry. Eventually he shook himself and sat up, wiping some telltale moisture away from his eyes and nodding gratefully to his friends. He eyed the gargantuan bowl nervously – it smelled delicious, but he wondered how it was going to fit after everything he'd had already. It wasn't going to be easy.

But nothing worth doing ever is, right?

He picked up his chopsticks.

Finishing the huge bowl had been a bit of a hassle, but now it was done the uncomfortable full feeling was rapidly fading as his unnatural metabolism worked its way up to full speed.

He'd stuck around to talk and chat with the old man and Ayame for a while longer, even getting a few ideas from Ayame regarding his problem with his forehead protector, but he'd left after an hour or so. The dinner rush would be starting soon, and as much as he hated to admit it, the ramen stand would probably do better business if he weren't around.

Not that the two would ever admit it either, or ask him to leave, even if it was eating into their profit margins.

Naruto tried to be accommodating, knowing they'd go out of their way for him. As it was, his attempts to pay for his gigantic meal earlier had been gently rebuffed – a gift to celebrate his success, they said, and he was feeling on top of the world.

Besides, he had wanted to do some more training today. Just because he had passed his exam, didn't mean he could slack off now. Ayame and the old man had just hammered that home.

So he was off to find a decent training ground – not the lake or the target ground, both of which would no doubt be occupied in some manner or other – maybe someplace private out in the forest. The forest was good for hunt-training, which he liked because in addition to the training benefits, it often gave him the opportunity to supplement his larder with fresh meat, which was mostly outside his price range otherwise.

He wandered for a half-hour or so, before he found a place he was satisfied with. He marked it out in his mind – a mile long stretch of the forest, including a stream, a small clearing and some variety in foliage. Tracks near the stream showed it was a popular haunt for the local fauna. It looked like he might be able to take a wild boar, or maybe a rabbit. Possibly even a wolf. He'd prefer the boar or rabbit to the wolf, which tended to be tougher meat than he liked, but he'd take what he could get. The wolf tracks were pretty recent, and if they were still around, other animals might try to avoid this place.

If nothing else, there were some fish in the stream.

Still, that was for later. Right now, he had training to do.

He warmed up quickly, stretching his muscles, and then strung his bow, taken from his pack. He strapped his knives on and slipped a handful of shuriken into a holster at his side. Finally, he slung a quiver over his shoulder and made a familiar handseal.

His image split until dozens of armed clones littered the forest. They eyed each other warily for a moment as the original Naruto grabbed a timer from the now nearly empty bag beside him and balanced it on a convenient flat rock, setting it to go off in five minutes.

Gesturing to the clones, he turned and walked deeper into the forest, knowing they were doing the same. He had five minutes to get ready, and all the clones knew the boundaries of the region this little exercise would take place in.

Five minutes, and then the hunt began.

Mizuki checked himself in the mirror carefully. He couldn't afford to mess up at this point, or else he could say goodbye to all of his plans as well.

His henge was as perfect a copy of Naruto as he could make it, but he wasn't just relying on his memory. He'd managed to dig out an old class photo and was comparing himself to that.

His face and build were correct, at least from what he could see – he cursed whoever had taken the photo for apparently making an effort to exclude Naruto as much as possible from the picture. The illusion included the brat's obnoxious orange clothes and the bow slung over his shoulder, better to fix the image in the mind of the witnesses.

He fussed over his appearance for a while longer, but eventually had to admit he was just procrastinating – trying to put off what he knew he had to do. Looking out the window, he saw a dimly lit sky, the last remnants of sunset beginning to fade.

Soon it would be dark.

Sighing, he exited his apartment, leaving by a skylight and crouching low on the rooftops to avoid being seen.

Let's just get this over with.

Naruto stood pressed flat against the bark of the tree whose branch he was standing on, keeping himself low to minimise his visibility. He had rubbed dirt and grass into his face and jacket, as well as his bright hair to dull their colours and break up his silhouette – he had considered using a henge, but his skills at chakra sensing were enough that he knew it would only light up his position. Now he stood as still as a corpse in the shadow of the tree, every sense at his disposal focused on his surroundings, and the muted glow of his enhancement technique glimmering from his eyes.

The hunt had been on for an hour or so already, but had been typically quiet in these early stages. With so many clones still around, it took slow, careful work to ensure that you weren't seen as you made your way in search of others. Similarly, it was important not to let your prey detect you before you eliminated it, because that meant that, when it died, your location would be broadcast to all the other players in this game, making you a prime target.

You could choose to team up with another clone, if you thought you could trust it, or two or even more, if you wanted. That path had dangers of its own, though – the elimination of any one of the team would reveal not only the location, but also the tactics of all the other members. Still, it remained a valid tactic, if you thought it worth the risk.

Some clones had come across more conventional prey in the course of their hunt – two rabbits and a large, young boar – which were taken down easily, along with a variety of less desirable quarry, being either too small or too young to bother with, given the choice, which were appropriately ignored.

The slain animals had been transported back to the clearing, skinned and gutted, and then hung from a low branch to drain of blood. The clones involved would then disperse, revealing the good news to all the other participants of the hunt.

Naruto shifted, having finally identified one of the creeping shadows as a clone, peering around a tree trunk at something in the distance. Timing his motions to coincide with the natural swaying of the tree, Naruto drew an arrow from his quiver and set it on his bowstring, drawing it back with smooth, practiced technique, and hoping that the creak of the bow would be hidden against the normal background noise of the forest.

Aiming carefully, he loosed, and then he moved. Even as he fell from the tree, the shock of the clone's death spiked through his mind. The arrow had pierced cleanly through the clone's neck, ending it without a sound, but between the noise of the bowstring, and the sound of the arrow striking the tree the clone had stood against, combined with the transmitted memory of the clone's location, it was only a matter of time before he became a target himself.

Indeed, he hadn't long to wait. He hit the ground and rolled. As he did so, he heard the distinctive sound of an arrow striking the spot where his head had just been. Not stopping to determine its source, he dashed from the foot of the tree, diving into shadow where he could and hiding in the shelter given by a large rock on the banks of the stream.

Hearing another two arrows strike close in his footsteps, he forced himself to come to a decision regarding his next action. Holding his breath, he slipped into the water, covering his bow and quiver in the sheerest possible film of chakra as he did so – hopefully enough to protect it from water damage, while still not enough to draw attention.

It seemed to work as, pushing powerfully with his limbs, he came up a hundred metres or so downstream and quickly darted to cover without being shot at. Releasing the film of chakra, he was gratified to see how the water on his bow dropped to the floor, leaving the wood and sinew apparently dry – he wished he'd taken the opportunity to apply the same film over his whole body, and a corner of his mind noted potential applications for the impromptu technique in the future.

Soaking wet, he shook and wrung out what water he could, then ignored the rest, returning to the slow, silent creep that was his standby in such situations. He reapplied the dirt – now mud – to his face and jacket, and once more sought the high ground.

He entertained brief thoughts of attempting to go after the clone his most recent kill had been hunting, but knew it was hopeless. Given due warning by the elimination of his stalker, the clone would have ample opportunity to escape, as evidenced by it surviving this long already, despite its initial location being public knowledge.

Still, the numbers of clones in the forest were dropping, and the already dim light beneath the canopy was failing rapidly. The hunt would only become more fast-paced from here on out, and winning this game would only become harder.

He smiled, white teeth glinting in the growing darkness.

Harder, faster, and altogether more deadly.

But then, that's just the way I like it.

Mizuki leapt from the window to the forest below, steadying the massive scroll strapped to his back. His borrowed face was set in look of mad glee as he made his escape.

The heist had gone perfectly – more so than he could ever have expected. Everyone involved had seen the face they expected to, and as a result, doors and windows became unlocked or went mysteriously unguarded as he approached. The only hiccup had been when he was already in the Hokage's office retrieving the scroll, only to find the true occupant of the room had apparently decided to sleep there tonight. Even that hadn't managed to slow him down – he'd even managed to further incriminate the demon-brat by using one of his personal jutsu on the aged Hokage while he was still disoriented from his sudden awakening.

Who knew that 'Sexy no Jutsu' could be so effective?

Well, Iruka would, of course, but...

Never mind. There wasn't any time for that now. He might have managed fine up until now, but if he slacked off, anything could happen. 'Naruto' still had to leave evidence of his presence in the forest – at the rendezvous point arranged before the kid had to go and pass, messing everything up – from there on, 'Mizuki' could take over. He'd feign chasing the brat outside Konoha's boundaries, where his cohorts were ready to fake his death at the hands of Naruto, letting them escape with the scroll.

Naruto, meanwhile, was a problem, but not a huge one. In the original plan, of course, he was to be killed and his body disposed of. That was impossible now, given time constraints, and there might be those who wondered why he would return to Konoha and plead his innocence after making it outside the walls long enough to kill a Chuunin and hide the scroll.

Frankly, there were more loose ends than Mizuki was comfortable with, but there was nothing to do about that now. In the worst case scenario, the higher-ups might not buy in to his demise, meaning he'd be a missing-nin. Hardly ideal, but he was confident he'd be able to protect himself, given the power of the forbidden scroll.

Personally, he thought even that might be unlikely. Even if investigation revealed the true events that occurred, his understanding of the people involved suggested they would quickly choose a scapegoat. With the scroll irretrievable and Naruto implicated, they might have no choice but to execute him anyway, to cover up their own involvement, or their incompetence in letting it happen.

Either way, his path was set for now. There just wasn't any other choice for him, but no matter what happened, this job would still make him powerful and rich beyond his wildest dreams.

Eyes glazed and drooling slightly as he fantasized about his glorious future, the short, blond, orange-clad Mizuki bounded onwards through the trees.

The game – the hunt – was winding to a close. There were only perhaps five or so of them left, all others having already been defeated, or else having fallen prey to other dangers of the forest.

The hunt always became more dangerous as it neared its end. Dozens of clones had already been eliminated, after thoroughly exploring the area around themselves. As a result, those survivors were possessed of an incredibly detailed mental map of the entire region of forest from which they operated.

Every sense of every hunter was now perfectly in tune with their surroundings, knowing and understanding exactly what the world around them should look, smell, taste, feel and sound like, not to mention the unique perception of the forest that their chakra sense granted, and were keenly aware of any aberrations from that ideal. Tracking those anomalies, it was possible to seek out the presences of their prey, even as they sought to conceal their own presence by merging their presence with that of the forest, to greater or lesser effect.

So it was understandable that Naruto was surprised when he came across something that just didn't fit. Seeing one of his clones bounding across the treetops with a mad grin and a carefree look on his face, apparently making no effort whatsoever to blend into his surroundings, his orange coat flapping loudly and some manner of massive scroll on his back, simply made no sense in this situation.

That, he reasoned, must be the whole point. Acting crazy to take advantage of his surprise – possibly he was in cahoots with another clone, ready to attack the moment his attention wavered.

It was a bold plan, even if he didn't think it would work. Still, this was training, after all, and he wanted to see how effective this strategy might be, so...

Plotting his movements carefully, using his mental map to choose a suitably sheltered place where he could avoid return fire after his initial strike, he slowly shifted his weight, ready to move.

This time, he already had an arrow nocked and ready to fire. It was the work of an instant to draw it back and release, before blurring into motion, leaping from the branch he was on and darting to the cavity of a tree that had been hollowed out by rot.

Peering through a crack in the decomposing wood, he quickly found the expanding cloud of smoke where his target had been, and in the centre of it...

Huh...that's odd.

Mizuki's first clue that something had gone wrong was when the arrow impaled his left arm and shattered his humerus. As the smoke of his henge dispersing drifted up around him, he took his mind off the pain by frantically replaying the last few moments before the attack.

He had been bounding along to a clearing he knew of in the forest, forbidden scroll on his back and a dozy look on his face. His head lolled to one side as he tried to gauge the time from the dim moonlight coming through the canopy, and then...

Then he'd been interrupted by an arrow of all things, appearing seemingly from nowhere and blasting through his left arm, leaving no evidence of his attacker but a blurred figure in the distance that quickly disappeared in the haze of his pain.

Except...

Except that it hadn't been his arm that was impaled. Or rather it was, but he'd been wearing a henge at the time, and Naruto was significantly smaller than him, and with his head cocked to the side like that...

...Well, that changed things, didn't it?

He went over it again as he pulled the scroll closer to his body with his good hand, before reaching for the weapon on his back, formerly disguised as a bow by his henge.

No, there was no doubt. Whoever had shot that arrow at him, hadn't known he was wearing a henge. Whoever it was had thought they were shooting Naruto – hell, he could almost sympathise with that – and they were aiming at his head.

If he really had been Naruto, that shot would have taken him right between the eyes.

He flicked open the windmill shuriken in his right hand, waiting for it to lock into its open configuration. A twist of his hand would start it spinning – a deadly, whirling buzzsaw.

But who would hate Naruto enough to assassinate him? Hah, stupid question to ask – could be anyone.

Alright then, who would attack someone like this? As far as he knew, the only one in the village to use a bow and arrow as a weapon was...

"Mizuki-sensei?"

...Yes, Mizuki-sensei.

...Wait...no. What?

"Naruto?"

"Mizuki-sensei?" What on earth was one of his academy teachers doing running through the forest in the middle of the night while wearing the face of one of his students - Naruto's face.

Naruto wasn't quite sure what to do in a situation like this. Nothing he'd done had ever prepared him for this, but living as he had all his life had made him anything but naive. Try as he might, he couldn't think of a reason this scenario might be a good thing.

As he struggled with the decision of what to do, his former sensei was reacting admirably to his injury, drawing a weapon and taking a ready stance that allowed him to protect his wounded arm. Finally, not knowing what else to do, Naruto stepped forward.

"Naruto?" The man's voice was faintly disbelieving, and the look in his eye made the young archer wonder if he was still entirely lucid. "What are you doing here?"

Naruto had been scanning the wounded man as he approached him, and suddenly stiffened, seeing something that surprised him, but confirmed his suspicions about whether or not this was going to be a good thing.

"I think I should be asking you that, Mizuki-sensei." He heard, or maybe felt, the approach of his remaining clones, who were taking positions in the trees surrounding the conversing duo, remaining hidden from sight.

"What are you talking about?" A little reason was coming to the man's eyes and voice now, as he gained control of himself. "Why are you here at such a strange time, Naruto? Why did you shoot me? Answer me – this is an order from your superior."

It was an effort to remain relaxed, but Naruto managed it, just. It helped that his clones had now all nocked arrows to their bows and were prepared for the worst.

"I'm training here, Mizuki-sensei. I frequently train at all hours of the day and night, and in a variety of locations, the better to prepare myself for true combat. I mistook you for a target." He clutched his sleeves to prevent himself from reaching for a knife. "Now if you would answer my question Mizuki-sensei – what were you doing, running through the forest disguised as me, in the middle of the night-" he paused for a moment, casting his gaze over the wounded man's form again, "-carrying the Hokage's Scroll of Forbidden Seals?"

There was a brief, fragile silence, and then Mizuki attacked.

Shortly after that, everything went to hell.

Naruto held still as one of his clones fussed over him, wrapping a bandage around his arm, where a long gash had been made. Two more were watching over Mizuki, from where he was pinned to a tree by the arrow through his shoulder. Both of his arms were broken and one of his legs, in addition to various minor injuries, so it was unlikely he was going anywhere.

Still, better safe than sorry.

A final clone was standing guard over the rescued scroll, having been removed from Mizuki's person in the course of the battle. He was talking to the others as he paced warily.

"I say we hold onto it until we get a chance to give it back to Hokage-jiisan. I mean you know what kind of security there is around this thing normally, right." He gestured at the pinned Chuunin. "No way was this guy anywhere near good enough to get it without help. We can't trust anyone but jiisan."

Naruto nodded. The clone attending to his wound stepped back and looked at his work.

"That should do ok. It's pretty messy, but not actually too serious. I could put stitches in, but that's always a hassle, so let's see how you do without them." He shrugged. "We've had worse, anyway. Try to catch some sleep tonight and it should be fine in the morning – good enough to train with, anyway."

A choking laugh from the direction of their captive drew their attention. Mizuki had raised his head and his lips were twisted into a grim parody of a smile.

"Hah, figures. All the pain you've dealt, all the agony you've caused that can never be recovered from..." Hate twisted his voice into something less than human. "...and the pain dealt to you disappears over night. How just is that...?" He trailed off.

The Naruto's looked at each other, not quite sure how to deal with the raving man. One of the clones guarding him stepped forward.

"You got something you wanna say, sensei?" The last word was spat out, sarcastically.

Mizuki was silent for a moment, before craning his neck upwards, somehow managing to fix his unfocused gaze on all five Naruto's at once. His voice dropped to a low whisper as he spoke.

"Do you...do you want to know why everybody hates you, Naruto?"

Iruka made no effort to disguise the sound of his footsteps as he approached the clearing he had been directed to. Emerging from the forest, the first thing he saw was the prone figure of his fellow teacher, heavily bandaged and tied securely to what seemed to be a crude stretcher.

Second was Naruto, with his trademark orange suit and bow. The orange suit was streaked with mud, and the quiver at his side heavily depleted. His left sleeve was rolled up and a bloodstained bandage wound tightly up the length of his arm. Apart from that, he seemed much the same as ever – perhaps a little quieter, though, and a little more grim. The blonde managed a half wave and a grunt in lieu of any formal greeting, not moving from where he stood in front of the forbidden scroll.

He took a second to look over Mizuki, noting the heavy bruise at his temple that was likely the cause of his unconsciousness, and the arrows that still bristled from his body in places.

Turning back to Naruto, he noticed for the first time the forehead protector slung around his throat.

"Naruto, report!" Naruto stared for a moment and then stood at attention, fixing his gaze at some point in the distance as he spoke.

"I was training in the woods and shot something that looked like me because I thought it was a target." He saw Iruka's confusion and elaborated, "Among other things, I was training my Bunshin skill." He waited for the Chuunin's nod, and then continued. "Instead of disappearing, it turned into Mizuki-se...into Mizuki. We talked and I questioned his motives for his actions, including the reason he was carrying the scroll of forbidden seals. He attacked me. I fought back."

He gestured to the minor damage to trees and such around the edge of the clearing, and pointed out where Mizuki had been stapled to the tree by his arrow. He shrugged. "I...subdued him, and retrieved the scroll. Afterwards I patched him up to the point where he'd last long enough to receive medical attention and prepared him for transport. Then I waited for someone to show up." He shrugged again, as if to say 'you know the rest'.

Iruka nodded. That fit with what he'd been told by the Hokage, although how the old man had gotten his information was a mystery to him.

"We'll return to the Hokage tower and bring Mizuki back for questioning. Are you ok to travel, and do you have everything you need?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Iruka-sensei." He began to strap the scroll to his back. Iruka considered arguing about it, but decided against it. "I already got all my arrowheads, so I'm ready whenever."

Iruka reached down to pick up one end of Mizuki's litter when a thought struck him.

"Hey, Naruto...did Mizuki say anything else?" Naruto seemed to think for a moment, head cocked to the side as he reached with his good arm for the other side of the litter. Finally, he looked Iruka in the eye and answered.

"Nothing important, Iruka-sensei. Nothing at all."

Meeting his eyes, Iruka nodded slowly, unsure what else he could do.

For a while, they walked in silence, Iruka walking in front and taking most of the weight away from the wounded Naruto.

As they approached the edge of the forest, Iruka turned back to Naruto.

"You know, Naruto, I was thinking. It's a little late today, but how about I buy you some ramen tomorrow to celebrate your graduation?" He was glad to see this brought a smile to Naruto's face – the first he'd seen all night.

"I'd like that, Iruka-sensei. Ayame and the old man have this new bowl size just for me, you should see it."

"Really? That's nice of them. And hey, here's something you should enjoy – I hear the Hokage's thinking of classifying that Sexy Jutsu of yours a kinjutsu."

"Really?"

"Really really. Now why do you think he might want to do that, Naruto?"

"What? I dunno. It's nothing to do with me."

"Really?"

"Really really."

They walked on through the darkness, chatting quietly with each other.

End chapter 1