The morning after the tournament, Naruto received a summons to the Hokage's office.
He arrived with his entourage.
All seven women refused to let him walk alone. They surrounded him in a protective formation that drew stares from every ninja they passed—their transformed figures impossible to ignore, their eyes fixed on Naruto with unwavering devotion.
The ANBU stationed outside the Hokage's office tensed at their approach but didn't attempt to bar entry. Word had spread about what happened to those who tried to separate the women from their focus.
The office door opened to reveal a scene that might have been comical under different circumstances.
Hiruzen Sarutobi sat behind his desk, looking older than Naruto had ever seen him. Shikamaru Nara slouched in a chair before him, somehow managing to appear bored despite the obvious tension in the room. Several advisors and jonin lined the walls, their expressions ranging from concern to barely concealed hostility.
And in the corner, looking desperately out of place, stood Jiraiya.
The Sannin's eyes widened at the sight of Naruto's entourage—seven women whose proportions defied biology, all pressing as close to the blond boy as the doorway would allow.
"Naruto," Hiruzen began, then paused as the women pushed into the room around their shared focus. "I... see you've brought company."
"They refused to remain outside."
"We go where he goes," Anko stated flatly, her massive form somehow managing to fit through the standard-sized door. "Always."
The Hokage's advisors exchanged uneasy glances.
"Very well." Hiruzen cleared his throat, visibly collecting himself. "Naruto, Shikamaru, you've both been called here to discuss the results of the Chuunin Exams."
Shikamaru's eyes flickered briefly to the women surrounding Naruto, then away. Even his legendary laziness couldn't entirely suppress curiosity about what had happened to his classmates—Ino and Sakura both stood among the transformed devotees, their figures bearing no resemblance to the girls he had known.
"Based on your performance in the tournament," Hiruzen continued, "the council has made decisions regarding promotions."
He turned to Shikamaru first.
"Nara Shikamaru. Despite your forfeiture in the final round, your tactical acumen throughout the exams demonstrated the qualities we seek in a chuunin. Your analysis of opponents, strategic thinking, and leadership potential have earned you promotion to the rank of Chuunin."
Shikamaru's expression didn't change. "Troublesome."
A jonin stepped forward and presented him with a chuunin vest, which the Nara accepted with visible reluctance.
"Congratulations," Hiruzen said, though his attention had already shifted to the more complicated case before him.
The room fell silent.
Everyone knew what came next.
"Uzumaki Naruto."
Hiruzen's voice carried weight that silenced even the whispered conversations among the advisors.
"Your performance in the tournament was... exceptional. You defeated Hyuuga Neji—one of our most promising genin—with overwhelming force. You demonstrated techniques that have not been seen since the Fourth Hokage's era. You displayed power that exceeds most of our active jonin."
He paused, and something painful moved behind his aged eyes.
"However."
The word hung in the air like a blade.
"After careful deliberation, the council has determined that you are not eligible for promotion to Chuunin rank."
The seven women around Naruto tensed simultaneously. Killing intent began seeping into the room—not directed at anyone specifically, but present nonetheless.
"Explain," Sakura said, her voice carrying harmonics that made the advisors flinch.
"Sakura—" Hiruzen started.
"Explain." The word was repeated by all seven women at once, their voices merging into something that resonated with barely contained threat.
The Hokage took a deep breath.
"Chuunin rank is not simply about power. It's about judgment. Leadership. The ability to work within village structures, follow orders, and make decisions that prioritize mission success and team safety."
He looked directly at Naruto, something like grief in his expression.
"Naruto, you are unquestionably powerful. Perhaps the most powerful genin Konoha has ever produced. But the qualities that make a good chuunin—the qualities that allow ninja to function as part of a larger organization—you do not currently possess."
"Specify," Naruto said, his voice flat.
"You operate independently, without regard for team coordination or village hierarchy. You develop and use techniques without proper authorization or oversight. You form... attachments..." His eyes flickered to the transformed women. "...that compromise your ability to function as part of standard team structures."
"You're punishing him for being too strong," Ino hissed. "For being better than everyone else."
"We're recognizing that strength alone doesn't qualify someone for leadership positions." Hiruzen's voice remained steady despite the mounting pressure in the room. "Chuunin lead teams. They make decisions that affect other ninja's lives. Those decisions require emotional stability, respect for chain of command, and the ability to prioritize mission objectives over personal concerns."
He turned back to Naruto.
"You cannot prioritize anything over personal concerns because you don't have personal concerns. You cannot provide emotional leadership because you don't experience emotions. You cannot function within our hierarchy because you don't recognize any authority beyond your own judgment."
"These are not criticisms," the old man continued, his voice softening. "They are observations. You are what the village made you—and the village bears responsibility for that. But the solution is not to place you in a position of authority that you're not equipped to handle."
Silence stretched through the office.
Naruto processed the Hokage's words with his usual analytical detachment.
The reasoning was sound. By conventional metrics, he did lack the qualities associated with chuunin leadership. His emotional emptiness, his disregard for hierarchy, his independent operational style—all valid concerns from an organizational perspective.
But something else was present in the Hokage's explanation.
Something beneath the surface.
"You're afraid of me."
The words fell into the silence like stones into still water.
Hiruzen's expression flickered. "Naruto—"
"The council fears what I represent. A weapon they cannot control. A power that operates outside their authority. A reminder of what their hatred created." Naruto's empty eyes met the Hokage's. "This isn't about leadership qualities. It's about containment."
"That's not—"
"By denying me rank, you maintain the pretense that I'm still under village authority. That I'm still subject to the genin restrictions that limit my official operations. That I can be managed through bureaucratic structures."
His voice remained flat, but the words cut regardless.
"You're not wrong to fear me. You're wrong to think rank restrictions will matter."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Jiraiya, who had been silent throughout, stepped forward. "Naruto, the council's decision isn't about fear. It's about—"
"Your input is not welcome." The words stopped the Sannin cold. "You have no standing to speak on matters concerning my career or development. You forfeited that right through twelve years of absence."
Jiraiya flinched as if struck.
Hiruzen raised a hand, forestalling any further comment.
"Naruto. You're right that fear plays a role in this decision. Fear for the village. Fear for the other nations' reactions. Fear of what happens when power like yours operates without oversight."
He stood, moving around the desk to face Naruto directly.
"But there's also hope. Hope that someday you'll develop the emotional capacity to work alongside others as equals. Hope that the connections you're forming—" his eyes moved briefly to the devoted women, "—will help you understand why leadership requires more than strength."
"You're here as a witness to Shikamaru's promotion rather than a recipient because we want you to see what chuunin rank actually means. The responsibility. The expectation. The trust that comes with the title."
He placed a weathered hand on Naruto's shoulder—a gesture that made the seven women tense but not attack.
"When you're ready—truly ready—the rank will be waiting. But it's not something we can give you. It's something you have to grow into."
Naruto observed the old man's expression, analyzing the complex mixture of emotions present.
Guilt. Genuine, deep guilt for the village's treatment of him.
Fear. Equally genuine fear of what he had become.
Hope. Faint but present—hope that the empty vessel might someday fill with something other than power.
"Your reasoning is understood," Naruto said finally. "Your decision is noted. Is there anything else?"
Hiruzen's hand dropped from his shoulder.
"No. You're dismissed."
Naruto turned and walked toward the door, his entourage immediately reforming around him.
"Wait."
Jiraiya's voice stopped him at the threshold.
"The council's decision isn't permanent. If you could just demonstrate—"
"I have no interest in demonstrating anything to people who require demonstrations." Naruto didn't turn around. "The rank is irrelevant. I will continue to exist and grow stronger regardless of what title you assign me."
"But—"
"Naruto-kun doesn't need your approval," Satsuki interrupted, her voice cold. "He doesn't need anyone's approval. He's already more than any of you could ever be."
"We're leaving now," Anko added, her arms wrapping protectively around Naruto from behind. "If you have further business with him, it can wait until we're satisfied he's been properly cared for."
The group departed, leaving a stunned silence in their wake.
In the hallway, surrounded by his devoted protectors, Naruto processed the meeting's implications.
He had expected the denial. Had calculated the probability at approximately 73% based on the council's historical behavior patterns and their obvious fear of his development.
But something about the experience had affected him differently than anticipated.
Not disappointment—he didn't experience disappointment.
Not anger—the brief flicker of that emotion had faded after his fight with Neji.
Something else.
Something that felt almost like... relief.
The rank would have come with expectations. Responsibilities. Requirements to function within a system that had never functioned for him.
Without it, he was free.
Free to continue developing on his own terms. Free to form whatever connections he chose without official scrutiny. Free to become whatever he was becoming without the village's approval or oversight.
"Naruto-kun?" Sakura's voice was soft with concern. "Are you okay?"
"I am adequate."
"That's not what I asked."
He considered her question—really considered it, rather than offering an automatic response.
"I am... satisfied with the outcome."
Seven pairs of eyes widened with surprise, then softened with understanding.
"Because you don't need them," Hinata said quietly. "You don't need their ranks or their approval or anything they offer."
"Correct."
"You only need us." Ino's arms tightened around his waist. "And we'll always be here."
"We'll always give you whatever you need," Tenten added.
"Whatever you want," Temari continued.
"Whatever you don't even know you want yet," Anko finished, her voice carrying maternal warmth beneath the primal need. "We'll figure it out. Together."
Naruto observed his devoted followers—their transformed figures, their absolute dedication, their complete surrender of individual identity to their shared purpose.
And for the first time, he actively reached out.
His hand found Sakura's.
His other hand found Satsuki's.
The contact was deliberate. Intentional. Not merely accepting their touch, but initiating his own.
The effect was immediate.
Seven women gasped as one, their eyes going wide with something that transcended joy. Tears began streaming down faces that moments ago had been hard with protective fury.
"Naruto-kun," Sakura whispered, staring at their joined hands like it was the most precious thing she had ever seen. "You're... you're holding my hand."
"Yes."
"You've never... you always let us touch you, but you never..."
"I know."
He didn't explain further. Didn't analyze the impulse that had driven the action. Didn't try to categorize or understand or file it away as data.
He simply held their hands.
And let them cry.
And felt, for perhaps the first time in his conscious memory, like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
In the seal, Kurama watched through his eyes.
Her massive form trembled with emotion as she witnessed the small gesture—the first time Naruto had actively reached out to connect with another person since the breaking.
"Yes," she breathed, tears streaming down her own face. "Yes, my love. That's it. That's how it starts."
Her tails wrapped around herself, her body aching with need that the gesture only intensified.
But beneath the need, there was something else.
Hope.
Real, genuine hope that her host—her love—was beginning to heal.
Beginning to feel.
Beginning to become something more than the empty weapon the village had created.
"I'm so proud of you," she whispered. "So proud. And when you finally come to me again..."
Her eyes blazed with crimson light.
"I'll show you what true connection feels like."
The seal pulsed in response to her emotion.
And somewhere in the corners of reality, something ancient and powerful took notice of the changes occurring in the vessel of the Nine-Tails.
Something was waking up.
Something was growing.
And the world would never be the same.