The river murmured softly as it flowed past Naruto, the gentle sound of water brushing against stone almost deafening in the stillness. He sat hunched by the bank, his left hand trailing through the current, disrupting the reflection of the midday sun. The ripples distorted his face, smudging the wide grin he had worn earlier in the house—the grin he always wore when people were watching.
He'd cracked a joke at breakfast, loud and obnoxious, just the way they liked it. Sakura had smiled faintly, though her eyes stayed fixed on her plate. Kakashi had hummed a response, his attention drifting elsewhere, as it always did. No one had questioned him, and that was good. Naruto didn't want questions.
Now, though, with no one around, his hand stilled in the water. The grin was gone, the mask set aside. His bandaged stump rested on his lap, heavy as lead, and he stared at it without really seeing it. The water was cool against his fingers, but he didn't move. It felt easier that way, as though staying still might stop the world from shifting even further.
The river carved a quiet path through the clearing, its gentle current catching the fading light of dusk. The soft rustle of leaves and the bubbling water created a serene melody, but Naruto barely noticed. He sat hunched at the edge of the riverbank, his lone hand clutching a handful of dirt, letting it fall slowly through his fingers. His empty sleeve swayed lightly in the breeze, a silent reminder of what he'd lost.
He stared at the water, his reflection distorted by the ripples. No matter how hard he tried, the image staring back at him felt wrong.
"Still here?" a voice called from behind, cutting through the stillness.
Naruto flinched, his head snapping up. Standing a few feet away was Tomaru, hands in his pockets, his gaze steady and unwavering.
"Oh, hey, Tomaru," Naruto said quickly, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "What brings you out here? I'm fine, you know. Strong as ever!" He flexed his left arm in an exaggerated motion, laughing nervously. "See? Nothing to worry about."
Tomaru didn't laugh. He didn't even move closer. "What are you doing out here?"
Naruto shrugged, his gaze dropping to the dirt again. "Nothing. Just… thinking."
"Thinking?" Tomaru's voice carried an edge, but there was no malice in it. "You've been sitting here for days. If thinking helped, you'd have figured it out by now."
Naruto's forced grin faded, his jaw tightening. "What do you want, Tomaru?"
Tomaru stepped closer, his tone sharp but calm. "Stand up."
Naruto blinked at him, confused. "What?"
"I said, stand up," Tomaru repeated, his voice firm.
Naruto frowned but obeyed, brushing dirt off his pants as he got to his feet. "What's your deal?"
Tomaru didn't answer. Without warning, he threw a sharp punch toward Naruto's chest.
Naruto stumbled back, his eyes wide. "What the hell?! Are you insane?!"
Tomaru stepped forward, his tone unwavering. "Defend yourself."
"Defend myself? Against you?!" Naruto shouted, scrambling to dodge another strike.
"You're too slow," Tomaru said evenly, landing a light hit to Naruto's shoulder.
"Slow? You just attacked me out of nowhere!" Naruto snapped, frustration bubbling to the surface.
"You're not ready for anything," Tomaru said, his voice cold. "And if you keep this up, you never will be."
Naruto froze, the words hitting harder than any punch.
Tomaru didn't stop. "You've lost your arm. That's a fact. But sitting here, sulking, isn't going to bring it back." His voice softened slightly, though it still carried weight. "You're letting this defeat you."
Naruto's shock turned to anger, his teeth gritting as he stepped forward. "You don't know what you're talking about!"
Tomaru's lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smirk. "Don't I? Then prove me wrong."
Naruto growled, frustration clawing at his chest. "Fine! If that's what you want, you've got it!"
He lunged at Tomaru, his movements wild and chaotic, driven by raw emotion. But Tomaru moved with ease, sidestepping the attack and sweeping Naruto's legs out from under him. Naruto hit the ground hard, the impact rattling his bones.
"Sloppy," Tomaru said, his tone cold and detached.
Naruto scrambled back to his feet, throwing punches with his left hand—punches Tomaru dodged effortlessly. "Stop acting like you're so much better than me!" Naruto shouted, his frustration boiling over.
Tomaru's eyes narrowed. "You're slower. Weaker." His voice was blunt, each word cutting deeper than the last.
"Shut up!" Naruto roared, charging at him again, his movements no more precise than before.
Tomaru sidestepped smoothly, landing a sharp kick to Naruto's ribs. The force sent him tumbling once more. Naruto groaned, struggling to rise, his breathing ragged.
"Is this it?" Tomaru asked, his tone sharp, relentless. "Is this the ninja who dreams of becoming Hokage? Pathetic."
"Shut up!" Naruto bellowed, forcing himself upright despite the ache that pulsed through his entire body. He charged again, his attacks still fueled by desperation rather than focus.
Tomaru deflected the blows with ease, his hands steady, his movements calculated. "You think the world's going to pity you?" he snapped, his voice rising slightly. "You think your enemies will give you time to figure things out? They'll kill you without a second thought. And then what? Who's going to protect the people you care about?"
Naruto stumbled to the ground again, his breath ragged, his face hot with tears he could no longer hold back. "I'm trying!" he cried, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions. "I don't know how to do this!"
"Trying?" Tomaru sneered. "You're barely surviving. The ninja world doesn't care about your excuses, Naruto. You lost your arm, but you didn't lose your will to fight—so where is it?"
Naruto growled, forcing himself to his feet once more. His body ached, and his vision blurred, but he refused to stay down. He charged again, this time with more focus, his movements sharper.
Tomaru smirked faintly, catching Naruto's fist mid-swing. "That's better," he muttered, before twisting Naruto's arm and sending him sprawling to the ground again. "But it's still not enough."
Naruto lay on the ground, panting heavily, his body trembling with exhaustion. But his eyes, filled with fire, met Tomaru's without wavering.
Tomaru crouched beside him, his voice lower but no less firm. "You think you're the only one who's ever suffered? Everyone here has scars, Naruto. Some you can see, some you can't. But you can't let them break you."
Naruto gritted his teeth, tears streaming down his face. "I… I just don't know if I can do it. How can I protect anyone like this?"
"By standing up," Tomaru interrupted, his voice steady. "Again and again, no matter how many times you fall. That's what it means to be a shinobi."
Naruto stared at him, his tears mixing with the dirt on his face. Tomaru held his gaze, unwavering. "The world's not going to wait for you, Naruto. You have to fight for your place in it."
Tomaru shrugged, turning to walk away. "Rest up. You'll need it."
Naruto watched him go, the ache in his chest mingling with something else—
He wiped his face with his sleeve, his hand trembling as he clenched it into a fist. The river's current continued its steady flow, carrying away the pain of the moment. For the first time in days, Naruto felt a spark reignite within him.
He wouldn't let his loss define him. Not anymore.
—
The quiet rustling of leaves filled the air as Tomaru walked away from the river. His footsteps were slow, deliberate, the sound of crunching gravel barely audible over the faint breeze. He didn't look back—not at Naruto, not at the fading sunlight. His mind was preoccupied, tangled in a mess of thoughts he wasn't eager to untangle.
It wasn't guilt. No, Tomaru wasn't the type to wallow in guilt. This was something much more irritating—frustration. The kind of frustration that came when you realized your peaceful future depended on someone else pulling themselves together. And unfortunately for him, that someone was Naruto Uzumaki.
The kid had the whole world counting on him, not that he seemed to fully grasp it. Sure, Naruto had inherited Asura's chakra, housed the Nine-Tails, and had ties to half the important figures in the ninja world, but at the end of the day, he was still a knucklehead. A determined, loudmouthed, and occasionally reckless knucklehead. And that was precisely why Tomaru couldn't let him give up now.
Because if Naruto threw in the towel, Tomaru's future was about to get very messy.
First off, Sasuke. Tomaru rubbed his temple at the thought of Sasuke discovering the truth about Itachi—how the elder Uchiha had sacrificed his life, his honor, everything, for Konoha. Tomaru could already picture Sasuke's reaction: a furious, dramatic descent into madness, complete with vows of revenge and a fiery desire to destroy the village. Tomaru didn't have the time—or patience—to deal with a brocon on a warpath. If Sasuke went rogue, it wouldn't just end with Konoha burning; the entire ninja world could fall apart.
And then there was Akatsuki. Dealing with Nagato's skewed sense of justice? Hard pass. Tomaru wasn't about to sit through some long-winded debate about the nature of peace while the guy casually wiped out villages to "prove a point." Nagato's vision of peace was a headache Tomaru wasn't equipped to handle. He'd leave that mess to someone else—preferably Naruto.
And Madara Uchiha? Tomaru let out an audible groan at the thought. A man obsessed with trapping everyone in a genjutsu for eternity wasn't just insane; he was exhausting. What's worse, the entire plan wasn't even Madara's idea. It was Black Zetsu's—an overly ambitious lump of sentient goo pulling the strings behind the scenes. If Naruto didn't step up to stop this lunacy, Tomaru would be left trying to clean up after all of them. That was not the future he wanted.
Tomaru stopped walking and glanced at the horizon, where the last rays of sunlight disappeared into the mountains. He let out a long sigh, a hand brushing through his hair. "This isn't about being noble," he thought. "It's about survival. My survival."
Because the truth was, Tomaru didn't want to deal with Sasuke's vengeance, Nagato's philosophy, or Madara's delusions of grandeur. He wasn't built for that level of chaos. He wasn't a hero, nor did he aspire to be one. He just wanted a quiet life—a peaceful existence where the world didn't constantly teeter on the brink of destruction.
"Sorry, Naruto," he muttered under his breath, a wry smirk tugging at his lips. "Even if I have to knock some sense into you, you're getting back on track. This world can't afford for you to quit, and neither can I."
He shoved his hands back into his pockets and resumed walking, his steps lighter now as if the resolve in his heart had eased his burden.
Because at the end of the day, Naruto had to succeed.
Tomaru let out a small chuckle at his own selfishness. "Naruto can't give up for my peace— for world peace. Even if I have to smack him around a bit, I'll make sure he stays on track. That's the least he can do for me."