I'M NARUTO UZUMAKI

A Fake Smile

Minato Namikaze stood in the sealed space, his usual composed expression clouded with uncertainty. He had no idea how to bridge the gap between himself and his son, Naruto Uzumaki.

Naruto shared the same dilemma. Though their bond was undeniable—Minato was his father, after all—there was no real relationship between them. The two had never met in life, and their connection felt as distant as strangers passing by on the street.

This weighed heavily on Naruto's mind. He pressed a hand against his forehead, irritation creeping in. Despite being an orphan in his previous life, he had never experienced familial warmth, never known what it was like to have parents guide him. The Third Hokage had been a mere overseer, not a father figure.

With a sigh, Naruto withdrew from the mindscape, leaving Minato in silence. He sat at his desk, flipping through the worn-out scrolls and books he had scavenged from secondhand stalls earlier that day. As he read, he found solace in the words. This was his usual method of coping. If not for this escape, the hostility of Konoha's villagers might have crushed him, turning him into something like Gaara before he met his friends—an emotionless killer consumed by his Jinchūriki fate.

After some time, Naruto carelessly tossed the books aside, stretched out on the bed, and let his thoughts drift toward his next steps.

His first goal was the Land of Whirlpool, where he hoped to reunite with the Uchiha clan remnants who had settled there and uncover the lost secrets of the Uzumaki lineage.

But in truth, Naruto had a deeper purpose—he wanted power, influence, an army. He wasn't naïve enough to rely on Konoha, a village that had only ever taken from him. Even Kurama, the Nine-Tails sealed within him, had once mocked the idea of freedom, claiming he wanted nothing more than to roam the wilds. But after witnessing the horror of White Zetsu's existence, even the great Tailed Beast had reconsidered.

Naruto smirked to himself. He had reached the same conclusion.

The Zetsu army was a byproduct of the Ten-Tails, and the Nine-Tails itself was once part of that monstrous entity. As the Jinchūriki of Kurama, Naruto knew he could never simply live in peace—Nagato, Obito, and the ever-lurking Kaguya's will, Black Zetsu, would ensure that. He was strong, but he wasn't there yet. He was still growing, still far from surpassing the Five Kage, let alone reaching the level of Hagoromo Ōtsutsuki, the Sage of Six Paths. Careful planning was necessary.

This was why he had left Konoha.

If he stayed, he would only follow the path of countless others before him—growing stronger within the system, only to end up as nothing more than a tool. He refused to become the Hokage his father had been, sacrificing everything for a village that had given him nothing in return. The fate of an aging, irrelevant shinobi like Boruto's Konohamaru Sarutobi wasn't an option. No—he had to reach the level of Kaguya herself.

As Naruto drifted into sleep, Kurama stirred within the seal. The great fox opened one massive eye, glancing at Minato with an unreadable expression. Finally, in a voice tinged with amusement, he spoke:

"Minato, you seem disappointed. Are you upset that Naruto doesn't acknowledge you as his father?"

Minato remained silent, his fists clenching slightly.

Kurama continued, a cruel smirk forming. "You have no idea what he's been through. Konoha treated him worse than it did Kushina for being an outsider. To them, he was never the Fourth Hokage's son—only the demon fox that destroyed the village. He knew the truth about his parents, but still gave the Third Hokage years to prove him wrong. And yet, he left Konoha with nothing but disappointment."

Minato's expression darkened further, but Kurama wasn't done.

"From the moment the villagers called him a monster, I knew what Konoha was trying to do. They wanted to mold a Jinchūriki who would bond with his Tailed Beast through shared suffering, a perfect weapon under their control." The fox chuckled darkly. "But you miscalculated. Children who grow up as outcasts don't become saviors—they become demons. And that's on you."

For a long time, Minato was silent. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled—a calm, almost knowing expression. "Kurama, I have to admit, it's funny hearing you say that. You used to fight with Kushina all the time, and now you're defending Naruto."

Kurama's smirk faded. He hated that self-righteous smile. He hated the hypocrisy of shinobi. And more than anything, he hated Konoha.

The tension in the sealed space thickened, and for a moment, it seemed as if a battle might erupt. But Kurama let out a breath through his nose and relented. As much as he wanted to, he wouldn't fight—not when Naruto had finally found some peace.

The Next Morning

When Naruto awoke, he wasted no time. His spirit slipped back into the sealed space, where he found Minato and Kurama locked in an unspoken standoff, each standing in opposite corners. Both turned to him as he arrived.

Naruto raised a brow. "What's going on?"

Minato was the first to speak. "I think you should return to Konoha." His tone was firm but not unkind. "No matter how unfairly you were treated, that village is still your home. You have the power to change it, just like I did. You can rise through the ranks, become a Jōnin, and make things right."

Naruto scoffed. "Oh, yeah? And how did that work out for you?"

Minato's smile faltered.

Kurama, on the other hand, was quick to voice his opinion. "For once, the brat is right. Konoha doesn't deserve him. Jinchūriki aren't caretakers; they're living weapons, and if those blind villagers can't see his worth, they don't deserve his protection."

Naruto smirked at the brewing argument and promptly left the sealed space.

Stepping out of the hotel, he made his way to a transport station, where he inquired about a carriage heading toward the Land of Fire's border.

"We're full," the caravan leader said apologetically.

Naruto was about to leave when the man's eyes flickered with realization. "Wait—you're a ninja, aren't you?"

Naruto nodded warily.

The leader grinned. "Well, our caravan only has samurai guards, and we could really use a shinobi. If you're willing to be our escort, we'll not only waive your travel fee, but we'll pay you handsomely."

Naruto touched his chin, considering. Free travel and extra ryo? Why not?

He agreed, and soon found himself among the caravan's hired swords. They were hardly the noble samurai of the Land of Iron—more like displaced ronin, remnants of an era long past.

Ever since the rise of shinobi villages, samurai had been steadily declining. Ninja weren't just warriors—they were assassins, spies, elemental casters, and strategists. Against such versatility, samurai stood little chance. Only the Land of Iron remained untouched by this shift.

Despite their status, the ronin and even the passengers treated Naruto with respect. Within Konoha, he had been nothing, but out here, a ninja was a valuable asset.

With everything set, the caravan began its journey toward the coast.

It wasn't long before they ran into trouble.

A group of bandits blocked the road ahead, weapons raised. Unlike common thugs, these ones moved with practiced ease.

Naruto sighed, cracking his knuckles. Of course.

This journey was going to be more interesting than he thought.

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