The late afternoon sun bathed the streets of Konoha in an intense orange, almost red hue. The air was warm, carrying the scent of dry leaves and dust stirred up by dozens of children rushing out of the Academy, their laughter bouncing off the stone walls.
Arashi Namikaze-Uzumaki walked with his hands behind his head, his bright Uzumaki-red hair standing out even in the sunset glow. Beside him, his brother Naruto walked more steadily, his blue eyes fixed on the path ahead, as if reading an invisible story in every crack of the pavement.
The silence between them stretched for several minutes, broken only by the slap of their sandals against the stone path. Arashi, rarely still or quiet, finally couldn't take it any longer.
"Hey, Naru," he said without turning his head.
Naruto made a slight acknowledgment.
"That guy… Asahi. Did you see what happened in Taijutsu class?"
Naruto nodded.
"What a weirdo!" Arashi exclaimed, gesturing wildly. "It's like… POW! A super strong hit! Even Iruka-sensei was surprised! And the next second, plop! He moved like a puppet whose strings got cut. Tripping over his own feet! What the heck is wrong with him?"
Arashi expected Naruto to laugh or agree, but his blond brother remained thoughtful.
"He's not weird," Naruto said finally, his voice calm. "He's… fighting himself."
Arashi stopped and looked at him. "What? 'Fighting himself'? He was fighting Iruka-sensei!"
"No," Naruto insisted. "He was fighting his own arm. I saw it. When he tried to strike, he was trying not to strike at the same time. It was like his body wouldn't obey."
Arashi scratched his head and resumed walking. "That makes no sense. Why would you do that?"
"And then," Naruto continued, as if Arashi hadn't spoken, "when Iruka-sensei gave him the leaf, he sat in the corner… and started sweating. A lot. He wasn't running or jumping. Just staring at the leaf and sweating."
"What a waste!" Arashi huffed. "If I had that strength, I'd be beating Sasuke every time! And he just sits there… and cramps up from looking at a leaf! Totally weird!"
"He's… frustrated," Naruto murmured, more to himself than to Arashi. "Very frustrated. And very tired. I think… I think he was more exhausted than any of us."
Arashi snorted. He didn't understand. If you had strength, you used it. Why would you sit staring at a leaf until you cramped? It was inefficient.
They arrived at the modest but well-kept Namikaze-Uzumaki estate. Lights were already on, casting a yellow halo over the garden.
"We're home!" Arashi shouted, swinging the door open.
"Welcome, ttebane!" came the cheerful voice of their mother from the kitchen. "Wash your hands! Dinner's almost ready!"
Dinner at the Namikaze-Uzumaki house was everything Asahi's orphanage meals were not. It was loud, warm, and full of smells: hot miso, grilled fish, freshly cooked rice. Kushina Uzumaki moved through the kitchen with energy defying her retired kunoichi status, while Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage, hung his iconic white jacket on the rack, looking simply like a dad.
"And how was it?" Kushina said, setting a huge bowl of rice on the table. "How was the Academy today? Learn anything to impress your old man?"
Minato smiled from the sink as he washed his hands. "Anything is impressive after a day of paperwork, Kushina."
"Taijutsu!" Arashi announced, stuffing a piece of fish into his mouth. "I almost got a sweep on Sasuke, but Naru says he read my move!"
"He did," Naruto confirmed softly, accepting his plate.
"That's awesome, ttebane!" Kushina said, pinching Arashi's cheek. "Keep it up and you'll be as good as your mother! And you, Naru? How was yours?"
"Fine," Naruto said. "I sparred with Shino. He's… calm."
Minato sat at the head of the table, his usual calm smile in place. "Iruka-sensei gave me his afternoon report. He said the whole class showed great potential. Mentioned that Arashi and Sasuke are setting the pace in sparring."
Arashi puffed up with pride. "Of course!"
"And…" Minato continued, glancing at Naruto, "…that you have the most precise handwriting in the class. And that a new student, Asahi, has the highest physical strength score of the entire first year. By a significant margin."
The table fell silent for a moment. The topic had been introduced.
"Ah, yes! That guy!" Arashi said, pointing with his chopsticks. "Dad, he's so weird! He's super strong, but he can't fight! Iruka-sensei told him to practice with a leaf… and the guy got a cramp just from looking at it!"
Kushina, about to sit, froze. Her cheerful expression faltered, replaced by maternal concern.
"Asahi?" she asked softly. "Is he… the new boy from the orphanage?"
Minato nodded slowly, looking at his bowl of rice. "Yes. From the orphanage. He's… well, technically, records say he's a civilian. His parents died during the Kyuubi's release."
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. The Kyuubi's release was the only dark event in Konoha's recent memory, the one tragedy this family had barely survived.
"Oh," Kushina whispered. "Poor child."
"Today," Naruto added suddenly, "Iruka-sensei gave him his lunch."
Kushina turned to him sharply. "What do you mean?"
"He didn't go to lunch," Naruto explained. "He stayed in the classroom. He was… practicing with the leaf."
Kushina's reaction was visceral. She dropped her chopsticks, which clattered against the table.
"He didn't eat?!" Her voice rose an octave, the ttebane accent making it sound even louder. "Minato, a child in the orphanage isn't eating! I'm going there tomorrow and…!"
"Kushina, calm down," Minato interrupted, though his own smile had vanished. "Iruka handled it. The boy isn't neglected. He's… focused. According to Iruka's report, he has a very unique problem."
Minato steepled his fingers. "His body is trained for one thing, but his chakra is a completely separate system. He's trying to make both work together, and apparently, his body resists."
"But why?" Arashi asked, genuinely confused. "He's a civilian! Why would his body be trained? Who trained him?"
A thoughtful silence fell over the table. Kushina looked to Minato, waiting for an answer.
Minato looked out the window at the darkening village.
"That," said the Fourth Hokage finally, "is an excellent question, Arashi. One I've been asking myself all afternoon."
The image of a civilian orphan who, at eight years old, had the muscle memory of a trained fighter but the chakra control of a baby didn't fit.
"It's an imbalance," Minato murmured. "An… fascinating imbalance."
"It's not 'fascinating,' it's sad!" Kushina snapped, pounding the table. "He's alone! And not eating! Naru, Arashi…!"
Both boys straightened.
"Tomorrow," Kushina commanded, with an authority surpassing even the Hokage's, "you will be kind to him. Understand? Arashi, invite him to lunch!"
"What?!" Arashi protested. "But Mom, he's so… quiet and gloomy! Weird!"
"I don't care if he's weird, ttebane! You will be kind!"
"Fine," Naruto said softly, cutting off the argument. "I'll do it."
Kushina looked at her blond son and softened. Minato observed his two children, his Hokage mind already working through a considerable number of possible scenarios.