Chapter no.12 Naruto

Chapter no.12 Team 7

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After eight years of being surrounded by the weak and the sycophantic, of enduring pointless conversations and meaningless praise, Sasuke Uchiha’s ambition was finally beginning to take shape. The thought should’ve filled him with pride—being the strongest among his peers—but it didn’t. It only fueled the constant reminder of how far he still had to go.

Compared to his older brother… no, he refused to even think of him as that anymore. Itachi was his enemy, nothing more. Compared to Itachi, Sasuke felt weak, insignificant. Itachi was already an Anbu captain at his age, while Sasuke was sitting here as a mere genin. The gap between them felt like a gaping chasm, one that he couldn’t close fast enough.

Sasuke sat at his desk near the window, the sunlight slanting through the glass, illuminating his thoughts as he glared at the rest of his so-called classmates. The incompetent, the weak. None of them deserved to pass. They’d just die on the battlefield, leaving behind crying parents, sobbing families. He snorted. It wasn’t like he cared for them, but the thought of others experiencing the kind of pain he went through, the loss of everything… he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

But then, the shrill voices hit his ears.

“Sasuke-kun!”

The girls. Every day, it was the same thing. Their pointless giggling, their desperate waves, their pathetic attempts to catch his attention. If anyone deserved to die, it was them. Annoying pests. He wouldn’t mourn them.

He turned his head toward the window, tuning them out as he always did, letting the noise fade into the background. What did it matter? He had more important things to think about. He closed his eyes, his mind wandering to what he should train today. Ninjutsu? Taijutsu?

But then… silence. Why was it suddenly so quiet? He opened his eyes just in time to hear a loud thud beside him.

Some guy, fully dressed in battle armor, sat down next to him. The chair wobbled under the guy’s weight, the suit clinking with every movement. Sasuke’s gaze immediately locked onto the insignia on his shield—a lion.

A clan symbol, but one he didn’t recognize. Who was this guy?

He glanced around the room. Everyone was staring at him, as confused as he was. Why was he here? Why was he in the graduating class?

Sasuke didn’t like this. Not one bit.

Naruto felt like a bottle about to burst, completely full and ready to overflow. Guess that’s what he deserved after eating 25 bowls of ramen. New record! He rubbed his stomach, grinning to himself when he noticed something was off. The class was way quieter than usual.

“Hey, do I have something on my nose?” Naruto asked, looking around, confused by the silence. As soon as he spoke, everyone’s jaws practically hit the floor.

“Naruto?!” A few students gasped. He removed his helmet manually, not by unequipping it—he still needed to breathe, after all.

“Yeah?” Naruto replied, wiping away some sweat. He couldn’t help but wonder, how did Oscar manage to stay in that armor for so long without getting all sweaty? Seriously, that guy must have been built differently.

Then, of course, someone had to pipe up. “You know this is a class for graduating students, not failures.” Some jerk from the back thought he was funny. Naruto huffed, his hand instinctively reaching for his headband. Should he get this helmet engraved or something? This was getting really annoying.

Just as he was about to show them his headband, he heard it—Kiba’s voice cutting through the room like nails on a chalkboard.

“Hey, don’t bully that loser. He probably thinks wearing some stolen armor is gonna make him Hokage.”

A bunch of the class laughed. Too many for Naruto’s liking. His glare shot straight to the source—Kiba Inuzuka. Messy brown hair, sharp black eyes with those weird slit pupils, and that stupid smug grin on his face. He had those red fang markings on his cheeks like all the Inuzuka, and he was decked out in his usual dark pants and that fur-lined coat.

Naruto didn’t steal anything. “I didn’t steal nothing, Dog breath,” he growled, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “This armor is from my master.”

Kiba… Kiba was complicated. There were times they’d skip class together, pulling pranks and causing trouble like a couple of idiots. But for some reason, Kiba always had this need to put Naruto down, like he had something to prove. Normally, Naruto would laugh it off, maybe prank him right back, but today? Today, Kiba’s words cut deeper than usual, and Naruto couldn’t shake off the anger bubbling up inside him.

This armor represented that he was the Squire of Oscar. Naruto clenched his fists, the rough metal of the gauntlets digging into his skin. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, the familiar burn of frustration trying to take over. He wasn’t about to lose control, not here, not in front of these idiots. He’d just show his headband, prove them wrong, and shut them all up.

But Kiba wasn’t done. He never knew when to stop.

“What master? You’ve always been the dead-last loser. But seeing that stupid piece of crap armor…” Kiba’s laugh echoed in the room, but it felt hollow, and for once, no one joined in. The rest of the classmates weren’t laughing. They were watching Naruto, their eyes wide, like they were seeing something different for the first time. The boy could feel their stares, but he didn’t care. All he could focus on were Kiba’s words, repeating over and over in his head, cutting deeper each time.

Naruto’s fists clenched harder.

“And I think your master is just as big of a loser as you are,” Kiba added, his voice dripping with arrogance. Naruto heard the words, but they didn’t register at first. It was like his brain was trying to process what had just been said, like a delayed explosion. He could feel the anger shifting into something sharper, colder.

Oscar… Kiba insulted Oscar.

Naruto’s body went still, his mind narrowing in on Kiba. Everyone else faded into the background. Naruto didn’t care about them. The only thing that mattered was shutting Kiba up.

But of course, Kiba didn’t stop there. He never knew when to stop.

“Oi, couldn’t find a better sword to go with your stupid costume? You know what, I’ll be generous. Why don’t I give you a proper dagger, better than that broken, crappy sword you probably took off a beggar—“

That was it. Naruto could barely hear the rest of Kiba’s sentence because the blood was pounding in his ears, his vision narrowing until all he saw was his fist connecting with Kiba’s face with a satisfying crunch.

Kiba didn’t even get to finish his insult before he was sent flying out of his seat.

Coincidentally, the door of the classroom swung open just as Kiba went flying through it. Sakura and Ino, mid-argument, barely had time to duck as Kiba soared over them, crashing into the hallway with a resounding thud.

“Hey, what the—“ Sakura began, but her words caught in her throat the moment she locked eyes with Naruto. Her face paled, and before she could comprehend it, her legs gave out from under her. She hit the floor hard, trembling uncontrollably, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Sweat beaded across her forehead, her entire body frozen in place.

The entire class felt it.

A suffocating, overpowering force filled the room, pressing down on them like an invisible weight. It wasn’t just fear—this was something darker, something far more sinister than they had ever felt before. It was as if they were standing before a monstrous entity, far beyond the realm of anything they could understand. Their instincts screamed at them to run, to escape, but their bodies were paralyzed, locked in place by a terror so primal it clawed at the edges of their sanity.

Naruto’s chakra—unbeknownst to him—had changed. After absorbing the soul of the Asylum Demon, the yin traces of that unholy presence had seeped into his chakra. Now, with his anger flaring, his killer intent created an illusion so powerful that the entire class could see it: the dark, oppressive image of the Northern Asylum, and more terrifyingly, the looming presence of the Stray Demon.



None of them, least of all the genin in the room, had ever encountered anything like this before.

Except for one boy in the back of the class.

Naruto pulled his chakra back, stopping the flare of killer intent, allowing the class to breathe again, though they still remained frozen from the experience. He concentrated the remaining chakra into his ankles, just like Iruka-sensei had taught him.

“You bastard!” Kiba roared, his voice feral as he took a stance. Blood dripped from his broken nose, his eyes wild with fury.

Gijū Ninpō: Shikyaku no Jutsu!

His chakra surged, and his nails and fangs grew longer, more animal-like. In an instant, he lunged at Naruto, looking like he wanted to rip him apart.

Naruto’s body flickered—Shunshin no Jutsu. The wind whipped through the hallway, rustling Sakura and Ino’s hair behind him.

Before Kiba even realized what was happening, Naruto was right in front of him. The moment his body flickered, everything around him blurred—just a tunnel of light and shadow as the distance between them disappeared in an instant. Naruto’s fist shot upward with all the momentum he’d built, the force driving straight into Kiba’s jaw. He could feel the bone crack under his knuckles, the shock of impact vibrating up his arm.

Kiba’s head snapped back, his eyes wide in shock as his body lifted off the ground from the sheer force of the uppercut. His tooth flew out in a slow arc, spinning through the air like time had slowed down just to show the full effect of the hit.

Naruto didn’t stop.

He was on Kiba in a heartbeat, pinning his hands under his knees. His breath came out harsh and ragged, his chest rising and falling as he towered over Kiba, looking down at his bloodied face. Rage pulsed through him like a tidal wave—too strong, too wild. His hand shot into his inventory without thinking, and before he knew it, his hand axe was there, heavy in his grip.

He raised it high above his head, the blade gleaming. His vision blurred with red—anger so intense that it clouded everything. Naruto didn’t care about the class, about the gasps he could faintly hear. He didn’t care about Kiba. He insulted Oscar. He insulted Oscar’s sword.

Naruto could recite the precepts of a knight, tell himself it was about honor, but no…this wasn’t about precepts. This was personal. Oscar meant something to him—more than he even realized until now—and Kiba’s insult wasn’t just words. It cut deep, deeper than Naruto could’ve imagined. This wasn’t about some stupid rivalry. This was about Oscar’s honor, and he saw nothing but red.





He brought the axe down, intent on making sure Kiba felt every ounce of his rage.

Then suddenly, a hand grabbed Naruto’s wrist, stopping the blade inches from Kiba’s face. He blinked, the red haze clearing just enough for him to recognize the chakra surging through the hallway.

Iruka-sensei.

He wasn’t shouting, wasn’t angry. His voice was calm, but there was something heavy in it. “Naruto,” Iruka said, not looking at Kiba, but directly at Naruto. “Please stop this.”

Naruto looked at Iruka’s hand on his wrist, then down at Kiba, his face a mess of blood and fear. His breath caught in his throat. What…what had he almost done?

He pushed himself off Kiba, standing up slowly, his hand still gripping the axe.

The room was silent. No one dared to speak, but Naruto could feel their eyes on him. Did he care? Hell no. Let them think what they wanted. Did he regret what he did to Kiba?

Not one bit.

As far as Naruto was concerned, it was justified. Kiba could talk all the crap he wanted about him, but the moment he insulted Oscar? That’s when he crossed the line.

Naruto sat back down at his desk, feeling the weight of the room pressing in on him. He didn’t care. He’d defend Oscar’s honor a thousand times over if he had to.

As he sat down, his heart still pounding in his chest, Naruto felt something else. A gaze, stronger than the others. He turned to see Sasuke, his eyes locked on him, intense and unblinking.

Wait…what the hell?

“Why are your eyes red, teme?”

A graduating class should have been buzzing with excitement, youthful energy filling the air as they anticipated the next chapter of their lives. Instead, an eerie silence hung over the room, heavy and oppressive. The only sounds were the grunts of Kiba, who sat stubbornly as Iruka, with his limited knowledge of first aid, tried to tend to him. Kiba was too prideful to go to the nurse’s office, even though he clearly needed medical attention.

Around them, the rest of the class appeared dazed, their gazes distant as they stared blankly at their desks. The usual chatter and laughter were absent, replaced by a palpable tension that none of them could shake.

Among the older ninja, there was a saying: a genin becomes a true shinobi when they have experienced killer intent and made their first kill. Both experiences were unforgettable, searing themselves into the memory of any who lived through them.

But Naruto’s killer intent had been something else entirely—stronger even than that of shinobi who had been through war. A normal killer intent was made from slight traces of yin chakra, a residual of the soul. Naruto, however, had absorbed fully intact souls, and the weight of that power bore down on his classmates. His killer intent was so potent that the genin class had experienced their first true taste of death.

This was evident in Sasuke Uchiha. His body had instinctively awakened the Sharingan, perceiving itself to be near death. The one tomoe in his eyes spun slowly as he processed what had happened.

The civilian students were traumatized, some trembling, others unable to lift their heads. The clan children, while shaken, grappled with mixed emotions.

Shikamaru Nara sat at his desk, staring ahead but not really seeing anything. His usual bored expression was gone, replaced with one of deep thought. He could feel his mind working, buzzing with questions he didn’t really want to think about. Why did things have to be so complicated? It was always something, and he hated it.

Naruto’s armor… it wasn’t stolen.

That much was clear just by the way it fit him. It wasn’t like some random set he’d grabbed off a merchant. That meant Naruto was telling the truth—he really had a master. But when had that happened? How long had Naruto had a master for? And how rich was this guy if he could afford to commission armor like that?

And then there was the bigger question: if Naruto had a master, and one who could give him that kind of gear, why was he still the dead-last? It didn’t add up. It was like they had been seeing one version of Naruto for years, and now they were realizing that version might be fake. But why? Why would Naruto hide all of that?

This was so troublesome. Shikamaru didn’t want to think about it, but his brain wouldn’t let him just ignore it. It was like his mind refused to let go of the questions, even though he wanted nothing more than to just lie down and take a nap. But no, he was stuck here, thinking about Naruto of all people.

So troublesome.

He glanced over at Chōji. His friend looked like he was about to cry, and Shikamaru knew why. Naruto’s killer intent had done something to all of them, but for Chōji, it was worse. It had triggered his fight-or-flight response, and for Chōji, that meant his appetite was suppressed. No appetite for chips? Yeah, that was rough for him.

Shikamaru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

This whole thing was such a drag.

But he couldn’t stop his mind from circling back to Naruto. Naruto had defeated Kiba like it was nothing. Kiba might be a loudmouth and not great in class, but physically? He was one of the strongest in their year. And Naruto had taken him down effortlessly. That wasn’t the Naruto they’d known for years. That was someone else entirely.

So what gave? Why hide his real strength? It was like they had all been fooled, and Shikamaru didn’t like it. But more than that, he didn’t understand it. If Naruto had been playing the fool all this time, what was his endgame?

Shikamaru sighed again, louder this time, resting his head on his arms. He could already feel the headache forming. All these questions, and no clear answers. He really hated when things got complicated like this.

Why couldn’t anything just be simple?

Shikamaru sighed softly.

“You’ll be hungry soon, Chōji,” he murmured, offering a comforting pat on his friend’s shoulder.

Across the room, other students grappled with their own reactions, each processing what they had just witnessed in their own way.

Hinata Hyūga was the most shaken of all. Her slender frame trembled slightly, her pale lavender eyes—the hallmark of her Byakugan—wide with fear and disbelief. The girl had always been shy and reserved, but now she looked even smaller, retreating into herself as her mind desperately tried to process what had just happened.

This is all a nightmare, she thought, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging within her. Her fingers clenched tightly in her lap, the knuckles turning white. Her mind replayed the scene over and over again—the rage in Naruto’s eyes, the overwhelming killer intent that had filled the room like a suffocating wave.

That wasn’t my Naruto-kun, she told herself, her heart aching at the thought. Naruto was never violent, never cruel. He was always kind, always determined, always the boy who refused to give up no matter how hard life pushed him down. That was the Naruto she admired, the one who had inspired her time and time again to keep going. But now… now, he had seemed like a monster, something so terrifying that even the elders of her clan would pale in comparison.

Her mind clung to the image she had of him, the bright, hopeful boy she cared for so deeply. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let go of it. That’s not him. That’s not Naruto-kun, she repeated in her head, as if saying it enough times would make the memory of his violent outburst fade away.

…

On the other side of the room, Ino Yamanaka was doing her best to process what had just happened. Naruto… what the hell? Her hands were shaking, and she had to press them against her thighs to stop the trembling. She couldn’t stop thinking about that killer intent he’d just unleashed. It wasn’t controlled, either—no, it had just burst out of him, pure and raw. That wasn’t something you could fake, something you could just shrug off as a bad mood.

Killer intent meant something. Her father had always told her that. It wasn’t just about intimidation or fear—it was a reflection of a person’s experiences. Of what they’d done. Killer intent didn’t come from nowhere; it came from killing. It came from death, from seeing and causing it over and over again. And Naruto? His was so strong, so solid, that it felt like a wall, like she was staring straight at a demon.

But what was the story behind that kind of killer intent? What had he done to have it?

Her father had always said that every killer intent told a story, a dark one. So what the hell was Naruto’s story? What had he done that could lead to that? Ino swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she forced herself to think it through. He couldn’t have killed people, right? He was the dead last of the class, the idiot everyone laughed at. There’s no way.

Unless… unless Naruto had been out there, fighting something else. Something not human. Her mind flashed back to that overwhelming pressure, the way it felt more like a beast, more like a demon. Was that what his victims had seen? Had Naruto been hunting monsters all this time?

Ino almost snorted out loud at the thought. Yeah right, Girl. You’re making Naruto way cooler than he is.

But then… what other explanation was there? She frowned, trying to piece it together. He couldn’t have been a simple genin. Maybe, just maybe, he was some kind of sleeper agent. A secret operative for the Anbu, hidden in plain sight. The thought made her heart race faster. Was he planted here to play the fool, only to be activated when the time was right? Had he been pretending to be weak, waiting for the moment when he’d show his true strength?

But… why had the sleeper agent been activated now? What had triggered him to show off that side of himself in front of everyone?

Ino’s head spun as the possibilities raced through her mind, each one more outlandish than the last. But as much as she tried to calm down, as much as she tried to tell herself that she was overthinking it, one thing was clear: she didn’t know Naruto at all. None of them did.

Her heart pounded in her chest, curiosity mingled with fear. This wasn’t just the same old Naruto anymore, the class clown they all knew and ignored.

So who was Naruto, really? What was he hiding behind that mask of idiocy? What was his real story?

Ino bit her lip, feeling her pulse quicken. Naruto… you just became the most interesting person in this entire village, and someone I want to know more.

….

Sakura Haruno moved her long pink hair behind her ear, trying to focus on her desk, but her mind was utterly blank. The world around her felt distant, muffled, like she was seeing everything through a fog. She couldn’t properly register what had just happened—couldn’t comprehend how the dead-last loudmouth boy who always asked her out, who annoyed her endlessly, had become the person who now sat beside Sasuke.

That… That thing couldn’t be Naruto. It couldn’t.

Her body was trembling, and despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop it. A deep shame welled up inside her as she glanced down at her red qipao dress, slightly stained where she had… No. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to acknowledge it, but the truth was undeniable. The killer intent that had poured out of Naruto had scared her so much that she had lost control, and the dampness between her legs was proof of it.

She prayed, hoped, that no one had noticed. Everyone else seemed too lost in their own thoughts, too consumed by the raw fear still lingering in the air. She needed to go to the bathroom, needed to change before anyone realized what had happened, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. They felt like jelly, shaking uncontrollably beneath her, too weak to carry her out of the classroom.

Move, she told herself, but the fear still gripped her, refusing to let go.

In the corner, one of the quietest students, Shino Aburame, sat perfectly still, though inside, he was struggling to keep his calm. His usual composed exterior—dark, round sunglasses and his high-collared, sea-green jacket—hid the chaos buzzing beneath the surface. It wasn’t just him that was affected by Naruto’s killer intent. His insects, the very core of his being, were behaving in a way that made no sense. They were restless, buzzing frantically inside him as if something was pulling them toward Naruto.

Shino tightened his grip on the desk, his knuckles turning white under the pressure. His kikaichū—normally so obedient—were chanting in unison, a quiet hum that only he could hear: Fire of life, fire of life.

What was this fire? What had Naruto become to make his insects act like moths drawn to a flame? Shino had encountered many powerful chakra signatures before, but never had his insects reacted like this. The killer intent was terrifying, yes, but it was their strange behavior that unsettled him most.

Across the room, another boy was watching Naruto with far less visible concern, though his thoughts were anything but calm. Sai, a Root ANBU agent on a covert mission, observed the events with an expressionless face. His short black hair and pale skin made him blend into the background of the classroom, an almost invisible presence.

Sai’s mission was clear: spy on Naruto Uzumaki, learn about him, and report back. But what he had just witnessed… this killer intent, this aura of raw, terrifying power—it made his hand tremble slightly as he continued to draw small doodles on his notepad, each disguised with hidden Root codes. His mask of indifference slipped for just a moment as his fingers shook.

Sai’s black eyes flickered toward Naruto, and for the briefest moment, a hint of something cold passed over his face. What could I create with you, Uzumaki? What would you look like torn apart, deconstructed, put back together in the ink of my brush?


Iruka glanced at Kiba one last time, making sure the bandages were secure. With a sigh, Iruka turned back to the class, feeling the weight of the silence.

The room looked deader than him during the morning when he hasn’t had his coffee.

And Naruto? He didn’t look guilty at all. Not even a hint of remorse on his face.

Iruka couldn’t help but wonder—was this change in behavior due to Naruto’s first kill? Maybe. He had seen it before in other shinobi, but this felt… different. He made a mental note to submit a form so that Naruto could get some psychological help. Something was off, and Iruka didn’t want to ignore it.

But for now, he had a job to do. He had to wake these kids up, shake them out of whatever fog Naruto had thrown them into. They needed to be ready for what was coming next.

Iruka straightened up, his voice cutting through the room like a whip. “You’re shinobi now!”

A few of the genin jumped in their seats, startled. Good. At least they were paying attention again.

“This headband you gained,” Iruka continued, “is merely the first step. Yesterday, you had a rank, a standing, a score that placed you among your peers. Today, you are nothing but genin.”

He paused, letting that sink in. They needed to understand—really understand—what that meant.

“Whether you were first or last yesterday has no bearing on who you are today. You are nothing but genin. Yesterday, you were the oldest and the strongest of the Academy. Today, you are the youngest and the weakest. You are nothing but genin.”

Iruka looked around the room, scanning their faces. Finally, he could see some life in their eyes again. They were listening.

“You can be proud to have passed the Academy, but remember—there is still much more to learn. Remember that you’re stepping out of school into the vast world. Do not doubt the skills you acquired here, but do not become arrogant, for today, you are nothing but genin.”

He watched as most of them looked down, as if something had hit them. Reaffirmed something they needed to hear. But something still felt off. Why did they look so… deflated? Did Naruto do something before he came in? Iruka couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than he realized, but he pushed it aside for now. He had teams to announce.

“Team ten under Asuma Sarutobi: Ino Yamanaka, Choji Akimichi, and Shikamaru Nara.”

The Yamanaka, Nara, and Akimichi always teamed up. That trio was so famous for their teamwork that even Hashirama Senju himself once said there was nothing like it. It was tradition, one that Iruka didn’t expect to change anytime soon.

He cleared his throat, half-expecting Ino to cry out in disappointment over not being with Sasuke. But… nothing. The girl was deep in thought, not a word from her. That was strange.

“Team 8 under Kurenai Yūhi: Kiba Inuzuka, Shino Aburame, and Hinata Hyūga,” Iruka called out, a little puzzled himself. It looked like an ideal tracker team, but Kurenai was famous for her genjutsu expertise. So why was she making a tracker team? He shrugged it off—Kurenai knew what she was doing, he hoped.

Then came the big one. “Team 7 under Kakashi Hatake: Sasuke Uchiha, Sakura Haruno…”

Iruka paused for a moment, fully expecting Sakura to cheer. And right on cue, she did, as if this was the greatest moment of her life. Honestly, it was almost impressive, this infatuation she had with Sasuke. If only it weren’t so… foolish. But hey, that kind of passion had its place, Iruka supposed.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself for what came next. “Naruto Uzumaki.”

Sakura froze mid-cheer. Naruto? He just looked… bored. Like he couldn’t care less. And Sasuke? He was still preoccupied with checking out his new Sharingan in the reflection of the window, but he seemed pleased enough with the teammates he was assigned.

Iruka almost laughed but held it in. Kakashi, you unlucky bastard, he thought. I’ll pray for you and this dysfunctional team.