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Chapter Six: The Boy Who Did Not Open the Door
Naruto Uzumaki did not step outside his apartment for three days.
On the first day, Hiruzen Sarutobi came himself.
He stood before the small, worn door with his pipe unlit in his hand, the early morning sun casting long shadows down the hallway. He knocked gently—once, twice.
"Naruto," the Third Hokage said softly. "It's me."
There was no answer.
Hiruzen waited. Minutes passed. Then longer. The silence on the other side of the door was absolute—no footsteps, no movement, not even the faint sound of breathing.
On the second day, he returned.
This time his voice carried more urgency. "Naruto… I know you're angry. But anger is something we must face together."
Still, the door remained closed.
On the third day, Hiruzen sent Iruka.
Iruka Umino stood before the apartment longer than anyone else had. He didn't knock immediately. He rested his forehead against the door, his fists clenched.
"Naruto…" his voice cracked despite his effort to stay composed. "You don't have to talk. You don't have to forgive anyone. Just… let me know you're okay."
Nothing.
Three days.
Three days where the boy did not laugh, did not shout, did not cause trouble, did not exist to the village at all.
And to Hiruzen Sarutobi, those three days felt longer than the three great shinobi wars combined.
On the third night, the Third Hokage sat alone in his office, staring at Minato's portrait—still stained with dried ink. He did not bother to clean it.
"If he doesn't come out tomorrow…" Hiruzen murmured, his voice hollow, "then I'll call Jiraiya."
His shoulders sagged.
"For the first time," he whispered, "I don't know how to protect him anymore."
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For Kakashi Hatake, those three days were worse.
Much worse.
He watched Naruto's apartment from the rooftops. Day. Night. Dawn. Dusk.
The door never opened.
No ramen cups were thrown out. No shouting echoed down the street. No reckless sprint across rooftops.
Just silence.
And silence was something Kakashi understood too well.
Every time he closed his eye, he saw Minato—smiling, calm, trusting.
You failed him, Kakashi.
He saw Kushina's fierce grin.
You promised.
Kakashi remembered Sakumo.
The village whispers. The isolation. The cold that crept into his heart and never left.
"No one knows betrayal better than I do…" Kakashi muttered one night, fists trembling.
And in his rage—rage at himself, at the village, at fate—he snapped.
A training ground on the outskirts of Konoha was reduced to rubble.
Trees split. Earth shattered. Targets obliterated.
By the time Kakashi stopped, his hands were bleeding.
"…I won't let him become me," he said, breathing heavily. "I won't."
He made a decision.
Tomorrow, no matter what, Naruto Uzumaki will step outside.
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And then… on the fourth day…
The Elemental Continent watched.
She had watched for centuries.
She had watched gods fall, clans slaughter each other, brothers become enemies, and children inherit wars they never chose.
And now, she watched a single door.
For three days, she whispered, her voice like wind across mountains,
my child locked himself away—alone, wounded not in flesh, but in faith.
The door opened.
Naruto stepped outside.
He did not stumble. He did not hesitate. He did not look around in confusion.
The child who used to grin at the sky was gone.
His eyes were calm. Too calm.
There was no anger on his face—only resolve. A quiet, terrifying resolve that had no room for comfort or forgiveness.
When he entered that darkness, the Continent continued,
he was a child abandoned by his parents.
When he emerged… he was something else.
Naruto looked at the village—not as home.
But as reality.
He learned his first law, she said softly.
That promises are fragile.
That love is conditional.
That strength is the only truth that does not betray.
Rules, Naruto decided, were absolute.
Power was necessary.
And relying on others—on friendship, on companionship—was weakness.
Thus, the Continent whispered, pride and sorrow intertwined,
my son took his first step—not as a hero…
But as the one who would one day bend the fate of the shinobi world to his will.
High above, unseen, Kakashi exhaled slowly.
Hiruzen felt something shift deep within his chest.
And Naruto Uzumaki walked forward—alone.
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