At eighteen months old, I was starting to get cabin fever. Don't get me wrong, the Inuzuka compound was spacious, but when you've got the mind of an adult trapped in a toddler's body, even the largest playpen starts to feel like a prison.
So when Tsume announced we were going to a playdate with the other clan heirs, I was ecstatic. Finally, a chance to see the outside world, to meet the characters I'd only known through a screen in my past life.
Akamaru, now the size of a small dog rather than the tiny puppy he'd been, trotted beside us as we made our way through Konoha's streets. I still wasn't used to the sensory overload of the village, but I was getting better at filtering it out.
We arrived at a large, open field dotted with cherry blossom trees. Several other adults were already there, small children playing or crawling nearby. My heart rate picked up. This was it.
"Go on," Tsume nudged me gently. "Go play with the other children."
I toddled forward, Akamaru at my heels, trying to look appropriately excited and nervous. Inside, I was cataloging every face, every chakra signature.
The first child I approached was sitting quietly under a tree, a large jacket engulfing his tiny frame. Even without the telltale sunglasses, I knew who this was.
Shino Aburame.
"Hi," I said, plopping down next to him. "I'm Kiba."
Shino turned to look at me, his expression unreadable behind his high collar. "Hello," he replied softly. "I'm Shino."
Even at this age, his voice was measured, controlled. I could sense a faint buzzing beneath his skin – the kikaichu beetles already making their home in his body. It was fascinating and a little unsettling.
"Wanna play?" I asked, gesturing to Akamaru.
Shino seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding. "Okay."
As we played a simple game of fetch with Akamaru, I observed Shino closely. His movements were precise, economical. Even at this young age, he showed signs of the analytical mind he'd develop. I made a mental note to cultivate this friendship. Shino's intelligence and loyalty could be invaluable allies in the future.
A soft sniffle drew my attention. Not far from us, a small girl with short dark hair was crying quietly, her pale eyes brimming with tears.
Hinata Hyuga.
I nudged Akamaru, and we made our way over to her. "Why sad?" I asked, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.
Hinata looked up, startled. "I... I fell," she mumbled, pointing to a scraped knee.
Without hesitation, I plopped down next to her. "It's okay," I said, patting her hand awkwardly. "Akamaru make better." On cue, my faithful ninken began gently licking Hinata's knee.
The girl's tears slowed, then stopped. A tiny giggle escaped her as Akamaru's tongue tickled her. "T-thank you," she whispered.
I grinned at her. "Friends now?"
Hinata's smile was like the sun coming out from behind clouds. "Friends," she agreed.
As we sat there, Akamaru entertaining Hinata with his antics, I pondered. This Hinata was so different from the confident, strong woman she'd become in the series. But even now, I could see the kindness in her eyes, the gentle strength that would one day blossom. Another friendship to nurture, another ally for the battles to come.
A commotion near the snack table caught my attention. A chubby boy with swirl marks on his cheeks was enthusiastically devouring a bag of chips, much to the amusement (and slight concern) of the adults.
Choji Akimichi, no doubt about it.
I made my way over, Hinata trailing behind me shyly. "Yummy?" I asked, pointing to the chips.
Choji nodded vigorously, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's. He swallowed with effort, then held out the bag. "Want some?"
I took a chip, making a show of crunching it loudly. "Good!" I declared.
Choji beamed. Just like that, another friendship formed.
As I munched on chips with Choji, Hinata nibbling delicately beside us, I assessed him. His chakra signature was strong, belying the physical strength he'd one day possess. But more than that, I could sense a warmth about him, a kindness that matched Hinata's.
A flash of movement caught my eye. A boy with his hair tied up in a spiky ponytail was lying on his back, staring at the clouds. Even from here, I could practically see the gears turning in his mind.
Shikamaru Nara. The genius strategist.
I wanted to approach him, to test that legendary intellect, but something held me back. Of all the people here, Shikamaru was the one most likely to see through my act. I'd have to be careful around him.
As the playdate continued, I made sure to interact with each child, playing simple games and sharing toys. All the while, my adult mind was whirring, analyzing, planning.
Ino Yamanaka, loud and bossy even at this age, but with a charisma that drew others to her. Sasuke Uchiha, quiet and reserved, sticking close to his mother's side – so different from the vengeful boy he'd become.
But there was one notable absence. No shock of bright blonde hair, no boisterous laughter or cries for attention.
Naruto wasn't here.
I strained my ears, listening to the adults' conversations. Most of it was mundane – discussions about missions, village gossip, pride in their children's achievements. But then I caught it, a hushed exchange between two mothers.
"...glad the Kyuubi brat isn't here," one whispered. "Can you imagine?"
"Shh!" the other hissed. "We're not supposed to talk about that. But... yes. It's better this way."
My blood ran cold. I knew, intellectually, about Naruto's isolation, the village's fear and hatred of him. But hearing it, seeing the real-world impact of that prejudice... it was different. It made something twist in my gut, a mixture of anger and determination.
I looked around at the children playing, laughing, forming the bonds that would shape their futures. And I made a decision.
When the time came, I would befriend Naruto. Not just because he was destined to be powerful, not just because he was key to saving the world. But because no child deserved to be alone, feared, hated for something beyond their control.
As the playdate wound down and Tsume came to collect me, I was lost in thought. I'd met my future comrades, seen the seeds of who they would become. I'd formed the beginnings of friendships that would be crucial in the years to come.
But more than that, I'd been reminded of the harsh realities of this world. The prejudices, the cruelty that could exist alongside the wonder and beauty. This was not a joke or entertainment. It was real life.
It wouldn't be easy. But then again, nothing worth doing ever was.