In his past life, Natsu was the eldest sibling in a family of five. As a child, he knew the warmth of his parents' love, but that warmth was quickly taken away from him. When tragedy struck—whether through illness, an accident, or some other unforeseen disaster—Natsu found himself shouldering a burden far too heavy for a young boy. With his parents gone and no one else to rely on, Natsu was forced to take care of his four younger sisters, stepping into the roles of both protector and provider far too soon.

His sisters, still too young to understand the weight he carried, often saw him as nothing more than an overbearing older brother. They would complain about his rules, sneer at his attempts to guide them, and scoff at his efforts to discipline them when they were out of line. To them, Natsu was the barrier between their freedom and fun. But they had no idea. They didn't know that Natsu sacrificed everything for them, giving up his youth, his dreams, and even his health just to keep them safe and cared for.

Natsu's life quickly became a blur of work and responsibility. He took on multiple jobs, doing whatever he could to scrape together enough money for rent, food, and school supplies for his sisters. Long hours of grueling labor left him physically and mentally exhausted, but he pushed through the pain, convinced that his sisters' futures were more important than his own well-being. He often went to bed hungry, his stomach aching from the sacrifices he made to ensure that his sisters never had to feel that same emptiness.

Behind the scenes, Natsu fought battles his sisters would never know about. When landlords came demanding rent, Natsu negotiated and begged for more time. When debt collectors came knocking, he shielded his sisters from the ugly truth, keeping the fear and uncertainty away from them. And when threats came—whether from dangerous people or the harsh world outside—Natsu stood in the way, quietly protecting his sisters from dangers they couldn't even imagine. To his sisters, Natsu was strict and unyielding, but in reality, he was their silent guardian, facing the world alone for their sake.

As the years passed, Natsu's body began to break down. He ignored the warning signs—fatigue that became unbearable, bouts of dizziness, and the gnawing pain in his chest. His body was paying the price for years of sleepless nights, malnutrition, and overwork. But Natsu didn't care. He couldn't afford to care. He convinced himself that his health didn't matter as long as his sisters were safe. They were his world, and if he had to sacrifice his life for them, then so be it.

By the time he turned 19, Natsu's body was failing him. The simple act of getting out of bed became a monumental task. His once strong and able body was now weakened and frail. But even in those moments of crippling pain, Natsu forced himself to continue. He knew that his sisters still needed him, even if they didn't appreciate what he was doing for them. Despite their coldness, their dismissive attitudes, and their disrespect, Natsu's love for them never wavered. His heart ached more from their indifference than from his physical ailments.

In his final days, Natsu's condition worsened rapidly. His body, pushed far beyond its limits, was shutting down. He could feel the life draining out of him, but he refused to let his sisters see his weakness. He kept up the façade of being strong, of being in control. He never let them see the countless nights he spent coughing up blood or the agonizing pain that wracked his body. He couldn't bear the thought of them worrying about him. He wanted them to stay carefree, even if it meant his death went unnoticed.

As the illness took its final toll, Natsu's last moments were filled with a deep, bitter sorrow. He had given everything to his sisters—his time, his energy, his health, and his love—yet they never knew, never saw the truth of his sacrifices. He had hoped, foolishly, that one day they might thank him, or at least acknowledge his efforts. But in the end, as he lay on his deathbed, there was no gratitude, no recognition. He died feeling alone, unappreciated, and broken, with his heart heavy with regret that he couldn't be more for them.

As his soul slipped away, Natsu's last thoughts were not of peace or relief, but of the burden he had left behind. His sisters, who had never known the full extent of his love, would never understand the price he had paid for them. He feared for their futures without him, feared they would never realize how much he had done. His final breath was not one of closure, but of deep, aching regret, leaving his heart full of unfinished love and unspoken words.

But fate had other plans for Natsu. Instead of fading into eternal rest, he awoke in a strange, unfamiliar world.

When Natsu opened his eyes, confusion washed over him. He was lying on the cold, hard floor in a room that felt more like a prison than a home. The air was biting, and he could feel the chill from the snow that drifted through a small crack in the window. The thin, worn blanket covering his body offered little protection against the cold, and there was no bed frame beneath him—just a piece of fabric barely separating him from the freezing floor. He blinked several times, trying to piece together where he was, and why everything felt so wrong. This wasn't his world—this wasn't his body.

Natsu struggled to keep his balance as he stood up from the cold, hard floor. His legs trembled under the weight of his body, which felt far weaker than it should have been. Each step sent a wave of dizziness through him, making it hard to focus. The room around him was dim, barely lit by the faintest glow from the old, dying lightbulb overhead. The air felt damp and heavy, and there was a stale, almost musty smell that made the small space feel even more oppressive.

His eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness, but everything in the room looked dead, lifeless. The walls were bare, the floor scuffed and cold. The blanket he had woken up under was thin, worn, and provided little warmth against the bitter chill that seeped through the cracked window. Snow drifted in silently, gathering on the floor in small piles. He wrapped the blanket tighter around his thin frame, his body still shaking from the cold.

There was something unsettling about the space—it felt abandoned, forgotten, just like how he had felt in his past life. Natsu's head throbbed with confusion as he tried to figure out where he was and why he felt so weak, so unfamiliar in his own skin. But nothing made sense. His memories of his past life were still fresh—raising his sisters, sacrificing everything for them until his own body gave out. But that life was gone. Now, here he was, trapped in a body that was not his own, feeling lost and alone.

As he moved toward a door on the far side of the room, his feet barely lifting off the ground, he noticed a faint glimmer coming from what seemed like a small bathroom. The door was slightly ajar, and there was a cracked mirror on the wall just inside. The light bulb in the room was dim, barely working, casting a weak, flickering glow that made it hard to see. Natsu pushed the door open gently, the creak of the hinges cutting through the stillness of the room.

He stepped inside, and his reflection caught his eye in the broken mirror. His breath hitched. For a moment, he didn't recognize the face staring back at him. The mirror was old and dirty, and the cracks running through it distorted his reflection, but there was no mistaking it now. The face staring back at him wasn't his own. This was Naruto Uzumaki.

Natsu's heart pounded in his chest as the realization settled in. He had heard the name before, seen it in passing memories of his past life, but never like this. He stared at the reflection—wide, innocent eyes under messy blonde hair. His face was round, but there was something off about it. The skin was pale, far too pale, and the cheeks were sunken, hollowed out by malnutrition and sickness. His lips were dry and cracked, his eyes dull and tired. The boy in the mirror looked fragile, sick, and alone. But it wasn't just any boy. It was Naruto.

Natsu's heart pounded in his chest as the realization settled in. He had heard the name before, seen it in passing memories of his past life, but never like this. He stared at the reflection—wide, innocent eyes under messy blonde hair. His face was round, but there was something off about it. The skin was pale, far too pale, and the cheeks were sunken, hollowed out by malnutrition and sickness. His lips were dry and cracked, his eyes dull and tired. The boy in the mirror looked fragile, sick, and alone. But it wasn't just any boy. It was Naruto.

The recognition hit him like a wave of cold water. He was Naruto Uzumaki. He had been reborn into the body of the boy who would one day become a legend, the hero of the Hidden Leaf Village. But right now, that future felt impossibly far away. This Naruto was not the strong, determined ninja he had expected. This Naruto was frail, weak, and neglected—just like Natsu had been in his past life.

Natsu's hands gripped the edge of the dirty sink as he tried to steady himself. His mind raced, trying to piece together how this had happened, how he had ended up in this body. But as his thoughts spiraled, a familiar sense of dread crept in. This wasn't just some random rebirth. Naruto, too, had been left behind, abandoned by a village that should have been protecting him. The same village that one day would look to him for salvation had forsaken him now, leaving him to suffer in silence.

The flickering light cast long shadows across the room, and Natsu's gaze drifted back to the mirror, to the reflection of the small, cracked boy staring back at him. He could see the signs—just like before. The dry lips, the gaunt frame, the lack of appetite, and the way the body was practically wasting away. Dehydration. Malnourishment. Neglect. It was a cruel mirror of his past life.

In the dim light, he could barely make out the dirt that caked the floor, the grime that had settled into every corner of the small bathroom. It was clear that no one had cared for this place in a long time. It was a room as abandoned as the child who lived in it. No warmth, no comfort, just cold, empty isolation. The thin blanket, the cracked window letting snow drift in—it was all too familiar. Natsu's heart ached at the thought that Naruto had lived like this, alone, forgotten.

As Natsu stared into the cracked mirror, the frail image of Naruto Uzumaki staring back at him, he felt the weight of his new reality settle over him like a shroud. His mind was spinning with memories from his past life, of the constant struggle to care for his sisters, sacrificing his health and happiness for their sake, all while they looked down on him, unaware of the burden he carried. It felt so painfully familiar—the loneliness, the cold isolation of this room—and now, it was happening again, but this time in Naruto's body.

But this time, things would be different.

Natsu had lived in the shadows before, unseen, unappreciated, quietly sacrificing everything to protect the people he cared about. In his past life, those sacrifices had gone unnoticed, unrecognized. He had died young, broken, and forgotten. But now, as Naruto, he would embrace the shadows once again—but on his own terms. This time, he would protect those who needed saving, just as before. But unlike Naruto's original path, where the world would one day recognize him as a hero, Natsu would remain unseen.

He could already feel the echoes of Naruto's future, the loneliness that awaited him. The villagers, blinded by fear and ignorance, had already cast Naruto aside because of the Nine-Tails sealed within him. They would shun him, just as they always had. Natsu knew this rejection all too well, from both his past life and now this one. The world would not be kind to Naruto, not for many years. But Natsu wouldn't wait for their approval. He didn't need their acknowledgment. He didn't need to be the hero they looked up to. He would operate in the shadows, saving the ones Naruto could never reach.

In his past life, Natsu had silently carried the weight of his sisters' well-being. He had worked behind the scenes, protecting them from dangers they never saw, from hunger and homelessness, from threats they couldn't understand. They had never thanked him, but that hadn't stopped him. He'd done it because he loved them, because he couldn't stand the thought of them suffering. Now, in Naruto's body, he would do the same—quietly, invisibly, but with a fierce determination to save those who needed it most.

Natsu wouldn't be the bright, loud hero that Naruto was meant to become. He didn't want that. The light that Naruto would one day shine on the world was needed, but it was distant. Right now, Natsu would work in the background, saving the ones who fell through the cracks of that light. Those who the village, the shinobi, and the system would overlook. People like him.

Naruto had missed so many opportunities to save people who had fallen into darkness, not by his own fault, but because of the world's limitations. Natsu thought of the people Naruto couldn't reach—people like Haku, who had died tragically, caught in a life of servitude and bloodshed. Zabuza, who died with only the briefest glimpse of redemption. Neji, who sacrificed his life for Naruto but could have lived if only someone had intervened sooner. Natsu clenched his fists. Not this time. This time, he would save them. He would reach the people who had fallen through the cracks. He would act from the shadows, invisible but unstoppable.

The thought of Sasuke lingered in his mind as well. Natsu knew what lay in store for him—the pain, the betrayal, the descent into darkness. He wouldn't let that happen either. Where Naruto had tried and failed to stop Sasuke from leaving, from chasing vengeance, Natsu would plan differently. He would work quietly, from behind the scenes, finding ways to alter Sasuke's path before it was too late. He wouldn't let Sasuke be consumed by hatred, not this time. He wouldn't let Sasuke walk the same path that had led to so much suffering.

Even Gaara, who had been a mirror of Naruto's pain and isolation, could be reached before his descent into violence and madness. Natsu knew he couldn't approach these people directly—not yet. But he would find ways to influence their lives from the shadows, setting them on a different course before it was too late. Where Naruto's light would fail to reach, Natsu's shadow would thrive.

It was in the darkness that Natsu found strength. In his past life, he had suffered alone, but this time he understood something deeper—there was power in the unseen. He didn't need recognition, he didn't need acknowledgment. What he needed was action. Quiet, determined action to change the lives of those who would otherwise fall into tragedy.

The world might never know his name, but the people he saved would feel his presence. The ones like Kimimaro, who had given his life in blind loyalty to Orochimaru. Nagato, whose pain and loss had driven him to the edge of destruction. All these lives that had once been snuffed out by cruelty and despair—they wouldn't be lost again. Natsu would find a way, even if he had to remain hidden, even if no one ever knew it was him.

He glanced around the cold, broken room, the cracked window still letting in the snow and wind. This was a symbol of Naruto's life right now—abandoned, isolated, left to suffer in silence. But Natsu wouldn't let that define him. Naruto would rise, and so would he, but they would do it from the darkness. And along the way, Natsu would ensure that no one else was lost to the world's cruelty.

The village didn't see Naruto's value yet. They didn't see his potential. But that was fine. Natsu had never needed validation from others before, and he didn't need it now. He would be the shadow to Naruto's future light. Quiet, invisible, but undeniably powerful.

He would save the ones Naruto couldn't, and in the end, he would make sure that no one would be left to suffer alone as he had. Not this time.

Exhaustion settled over Natsu like a heavy weight as he sat back down on the cold, hard floor. His mind was racing, filled with thoughts of the path that lay ahead. The dim light from the old bulb flickered once more, casting long shadows across the bare walls of the tiny room. His body ached from the cold, his muscles weak from malnutrition and dehydration, but for the first time since waking in this strange new life, there was a sense of purpose burning within him.

Wrapping the thin blanket tighter around his body, he lay down, staring at the cracked window as the snow continued to drift inside, adding to the chill in the air. The sound of the wind whistling through the crack was the only thing breaking the silence of the room. Despite the discomfort, Natsu's eyelids grew heavy. His mind, tired from the overwhelming flood of new information and the weight of his past life's regrets, began to drift.

He closed his eyes, letting the dark room fade away. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring—he only knew that he had to get stronger, had to survive, and had to start finding ways to help the people who Naruto would never have saved. This time would be different. He wouldn't be a hero in the light, but in the shadows, where the world's tragedies often unfolded unseen.

As sleep took him, the world around him dissolved into darkness, and for a few blissful moments, there was nothing but the deep, restful void.

But then… something changed.

The darkness deepened, becoming thick, oppressive. Natsu's senses stirred, though his body remained still. A pressure began to build in the air around him, a sensation of something vast and terrifying lurking just beyond the edges of his awareness. Slowly, the weight of this presence grew stronger, more undeniable. It was as though the darkness itself had come alive, and it was watching him.

Natsu's eyes fluttered open, and he was no longer in the cold, dim room where he had fallen asleep. Instead, he found himself standing in the middle of a dark, dense forest. The night pressed down around him, the moon hidden behind thick clouds, leaving only faint shafts of light filtering through the trees. The silence was almost eerie, the only sound being the soft rustling of leaves as a cold wind swept through the air. He didn't know how or why he was there, but the unease that crept up his spine told him this was no ordinary forest.

His feet moved of their own accord, pulling him deeper into the forest, the path ahead unclear. Every step he took felt heavier, as though the ground was pulling him down, as if the forest itself was watching him. His mind was still foggy from sleep, but something about this place tugged at his thoughts. It wasn't right. None of this was right. But it felt familiar, in a way that he couldn't yet place.

After walking for what felt like an eternity, he came across a dark cave nestled at the base of a massive, twisted tree. The entrance to the cave was lined with old, decaying seal tags, their faded ink barely visible in the gloom. The seals seemed ancient, almost forgotten, but they pulsed faintly with a red glow that made Natsu's stomach churn. Something powerful was trapped here.

Against his better judgment, Natsu stepped forward and entered the cave. The air inside was thick, oppressive, and the deeper he went, the more suffocating it became. The red glow from the seal tags illuminated the cave just enough for him to see, casting ominous shadows on the jagged walls. He followed the winding path, his heartbeat growing louder with each step, until finally, he reached the center of the cave.

There, at the heart of the cave, lay a massive pile of red chakra, pulsating like a living thing. It was caged behind thick iron bars, covered in seal tags that seemed to be struggling to hold back the sheer power behind them. It was then that Natsu realized what he was looking at. The Nine-Tails. But something about this setup was different.

This wasn't the dimly lit chamber with water at his feet that he remembered from the stories. It wasn't the sealed area Naruto had often visited in his mind. This was something else entirely. A forest? A dark cave? What does this all mean?

Natsu's heart pounded in his chest as the realization slowly dawned on him. "Why does it look like this?" he whispered to himself, his voice barely a breath in the heavy air. He thought back to what he knew about Naruto, how Naruto had always described the place where the Nine-Tails was sealed as a chamber with water flowing beneath his feet, a kind of inner space that existed within him. A seal-made pocket dimension, perhaps.

But this… this was different. It wasn't the same place. The forest, the cave, the oppressive darkness—it felt wrong, twisted, as though it didn't belong to Naruto at all. That's when Natsu's thoughts began to spiral, and a realization struck him. Does this place… represent my soul?

The question hung in the air, heavier than the darkness that surrounded him. It made sense, in a way that chilled him to the bone. Naruto had never described a forest or a cave. He had never mentioned being trapped in such a dark, lonely place. If this wasn't the same pocket dimension that Naruto had visited, then… could it be a reflection of Natsu's soul instead?

Natsu took a step back, the weight of the realization hitting him like a blow to the chest. "Then… does that mean Naruto's soul is… gone?" His voice trembled as he said it out loud, the words echoing in the silence of the cave.

The Nine-Tails, still caged behind the seals, stared at him with its fierce, glowing red eyes. Its gaze was unblinking, burning with malice, but there was something else behind those eyes now. Natsu felt it—a deep sense of recognition, as if the Nine-Tails knew more than it was letting on. As if the beast had already realized what Natsu was only just beginning to understand.

The Nine-Tails' low, rumbling growl filled the cave, shaking the walls around them. "So you've finally figured it out, human." The beast's voice was filled with disdain, but there was also a cold amusement in its tone. "You are not him. The brat is gone. You wear his face, but you are nothing more than a ghost. A shadow."

Natsu's chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat. Gone? He stared at the Nine-Tails, the weight of the beast's words pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. Could it really be true? Was Naruto truly gone, leaving only his body behind for Natsu to inhabit? The thought was almost too much to bear.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his thoughts from spiraling further. If Naruto's soul was truly gone, then that meant the boy he had woken up as—the boy who was supposed to be a hero—no longer existed. It also explained why the world around him had changed, why this inner space looked like a forest, a reflection of his own soul. It wasn't Naruto's space anymore. It was his. His forest, his cave. His soul.

Natsu's fists clenched at his sides. He wasn't sure what to feel. Part of him mourned for the boy who should have been here, for the life that was meant to be Naruto Uzumaki's. But another part of him—one that was darker, more resigned—accepted the truth. He had been given this body for a reason. Naruto's soul might be gone, but that didn't mean this life had to be wasted.

The Nine-Tails' eyes never left him, still staring at him with that unnerving, knowing gaze. "You walk like a dead man," the beast growled. "You may think you've been given a second chance, but don't fool yourself. You're nothing but a replacement."

Natsu's heart ached at the words, but he forced himself to stand tall. He had been a replacement before, in his past life. He had been the eldest sibling, the one who had taken on all the burdens for his sisters without thanks, without recognition. He had lived in the shadows then, just as he would live in them now. But this time, it was different. This time, he had power. This time, he wouldn't be helpless.

"Maybe I am a replacement," Natsu said quietly, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him. "But I'm here now. And I'm not going to let this life slip away. Whether Naruto's soul is gone or not, I'll protect the people I need to protect. I'll save the ones who would have been lost."

The Nine-Tails let out a low, rumbling laugh, but it was hollow, empty. "We'll see, human. We'll see how long you last in this world. But remember this: the darkness may be your home, but it is mine as well. And I will always be watching."

Natsu didn't flinch under the beast's gaze. He turned, walking back through the cave, leaving the oppressive presence of the Nine-Tails behind. His mind was racing with the weight of what he had just realized, but his resolve was only growing stronger. This was his soul now. His body. His life.

He may have been born into the shadows, but from now on, he would make sure that the light still reached the ones who needed it most. Even if no one ever knew his name.

Natsu left the dark cave behind, the heavy growl of the Nine-Tails fading as he stepped back into the cold, night air of the forest. His thoughts raced with everything he had just learned, everything that had changed since waking up in this new life. Naruto's body, his soul—gone. It was just him now, in a world that had expected Naruto but was instead left with a stranger in his place.

The wind blew through the trees, cold and unforgiving, and for a moment, Natsu just stood there, letting the silence settle over him. The forest around him was dark, oppressive, much like the feeling of abandonment that had haunted him in his past life. But this wasn't just any forest. This place, this shadowy wilderness—it was his. It was his soul, his heart. The realization weighed heavy on him, but it also brought a strange sense of understanding.

Naruto had always been bright, a beacon of hope in the original timeline. But now, that light was gone, and what was left was a reflection of Natsu's own soul—cold, distant, filled with shadows. His thoughts swirled. Had Naruto ever truly had a chance? Did the world ever give him the care or love he deserved? Now, it didn't matter. Natsu knew that this was no longer about fulfilling Naruto's destiny, but about creating his own. The world had lost its light, and in the shadow of that loss, Natsu would move quietly, subtly, and save the people Naruto could never reach.

He walked through the forest, his mind troubled but determined. His body still felt weak, still ached from the malnourishment and the strain of waking in such poor condition, but he was used to this. He had suffered through worse in his past life—pushed his body beyond its limits for the sake of others. He knew how to endure, and now, he had a goal. He wasn't here to be the loud, cheerful Naruto everyone knew. He wasn't here to be the hero they would celebrate. He would work from the shadows, just as he had always done, and he would protect.

A clearing opened up before him, and he stepped into it, pausing for a moment to gaze up at the sky. The clouds had shifted slightly, and the moon now hung low on the horizon, casting a pale light through the branches. It wasn't enough to illuminate the forest fully, but it was enough to make the shadows dance at the edge of his vision. And in those shadows, Natsu found comfort.

He thought about the Nine-Tails, its presence still lingering in the back of his mind. The beast had been right—he wasn't Naruto. He was an outsider, an intruder in this world, and the Nine-Tails knew it. But that didn't mean he didn't have a place here. He was determined to carve out his own path, to protect those who would have been lost, just as he had tried to protect his sisters in his past life. The people Naruto couldn't save, the ones who fell through the cracks—that was who Natsu would focus on.

In the original timeline, people like Haku and Zabuza, Neji, and even Sasuke had slipped through Naruto's grasp at crucial moments. Natsu wouldn't let that happen this time. He would approach from the background, find ways to influence their lives without drawing too much attention. He would walk the same path of loneliness Naruto had been destined for, but he would embrace it, using the shadows to his advantage.

As he walked, his thoughts began to form a plan. He needed to start small. He couldn't take on powerful enemies like the Akatsuki or Orochimaru right away, not in Naruto's malnourished and weakened body. He needed to regain his strength, rebuild Naruto's health from the ground up. But once that was done, he would find the cracks in the timeline, the moments where people could be saved before it was too late.

His first priority had to be Naruto's body. It was fragile, worn down by neglect and malnutrition. He couldn't fight like this, couldn't even train properly until his health was restored. As he continued through the forest, he remembered the resources available to him. He was still in the Hidden Leaf Village. Even if the villagers had abandoned Naruto, there were ways to rebuild his strength. Food, water, rest—basic necessities that he could focus on first.

And then there was training. Natsu knew he had the advantage of foresight. He knew what jutsu Naruto had learned in the original timeline, but he didn't need to follow that exact path. He could train differently, focus on the areas where Naruto had struggled and fix them before they became problems. He would build a new Naruto, one that operated quietly, efficiently, and could move unnoticed when needed.

The forest began to thin as he neared its edge, and Natsu's thoughts drifted back to the people he wanted to save. He thought of Sasuke, the boy who would one day leave the village in search of vengeance. In his past life, Naruto had failed to stop him from walking that path. But Natsu knew Sasuke's pain—he had lived a life of abandonment and rejection, just as Sasuke had. Maybe he could reach him before it was too late. Maybe he could stop Sasuke from falling into the darkness that had consumed him.

Then there was Neji, who had lived his life bound by the rules of the Hyuga clan. In the original timeline, Neji had died protecting Naruto, sacrificing himself for the greater good. But what if Natsu could save him? What if he could change Neji's fate, give him a different path? It was these small moments that Natsu knew he could influence, and he would do it quietly, without drawing attention to himself.

As the village came into view, Natsu's determination only grew stronger. He would start small, but he would grow. He would move in the shadows, unseen by the world, and save the people who Naruto had missed. It was a lonely path, but he was used to that. This time, he would make sure his sacrifices weren't for nothing.

Natsu stood still in the eerie, shadowy forest, his thoughts heavy and conflicted. The more he relived Naruto's memories, the more he understood the boy's decisions—especially when it came to Hinata. Naruto had always kept his distance from her, not because he didn't care, but because he had understood the weight of being a Jinchūriki. He had known from a young age that his connection to anyone would only bring them pain. And yet, even though he never let himself get close to her, he supported her from the shadows, quietly, without anyone noticing. Except for Hinata.

And now, in Naruto's place, Natsu found himself in the same position. He understood Naruto's choice on a deep, personal level—because it was the same choice Natsu had made for his sisters in his past life. He had watched over them, protected them, sacrificed for them, all while keeping his distance. He never let them see how much he was doing behind the scenes, never allowed himself to get too close. Not because he didn't care—he cared more than anyone would ever know—but because he didn't want to drag them into his suffering.

Just like Naruto with Hinata.

Natsu had always worked in the shadows, much like Naruto, watching from afar, providing protection and support without ever asking for thanks or recognition. It was a path he knew all too well—a path of sacrifice. And now, stepping into Naruto's life, Natsu felt that familiar weight return. He had chosen to honor Naruto's decision, to continue protecting Hinata from the village's scorn by keeping his distance.

But something gnawed at Natsu, something he couldn't shake. Hinata was stuck.

She was kind, gentle, and strong in her own way, but she was trapped in her own comfort zone. She admired Naruto, drew strength from him, but she wasn't pushing herself forward. Not the way she needed to. Her loyalty to Naruto and her quiet nature had kept her from truly unleashing her potential, from embracing her true strength. And now, Natsu understood that if things continued this way, Hinata would never truly break free from the chains that held her down—the expectations of her clan, the pressure to conform, the weight of being seen as weak.

Naruto had supported her from the shadows, encouraging her gently, never pushing too hard, but Natsu saw that this wasn't enough. Hinata needed more. She needed to be shaken from the comfort zone she had nestled into, and as much as it pained him, Natsu knew what needed to be done. He couldn't be the gentle guide Naruto had been. Hinata needed to be corrupted.

It wasn't that he wanted to break her spirit or destroy who she was—no, that wasn't it. But Hinata had potential, strength she had never tapped into because she was too afraid of letting go of who she thought she needed to be. Natsu had seen it in Naruto's memories, and now he saw it in her. Hinata was holding herself back, and if he didn't do something drastic, she would never fully realize what she could become.

The village, her clan, and even Naruto's own quiet encouragement had kept her safe but also sheltered. That had to change.

Natsu's fists clenched as he stood in the darkness of the forest, wrestling with his decision. He didn't want to hurt her, but this was the only way to help her grow. Hinata had always admired Naruto for his strength, for his relentless will to keep moving forward no matter what the world threw at him. But now, Natsu realized that admiration wasn't enough. She had to feel the same fire. She had to be willing to step into the darkness, to face her fears head-on without relying on her admiration of Naruto to guide her.

She needed to embrace her own strength, and to do that, Natsu had to push her in ways Naruto never would.

He would honor Naruto's decision in the sense that he wouldn't destroy the connection between them, but this time, he would do what needed to be done, even if it was painful. He would corrupt her—not in the sense of breaking her, but by shaking her from the gentle, comforting path she had walked for too long. She needed to be tested, needed to face the darkness within herself.

Hinata needed to understand what real strength was, and sometimes, strength didn't come from light and hope. Sometimes, it came from struggle, from standing in the shadows and learning to thrive there. Natsu knew that better than anyone, and now it was time for Hinata to learn it too.

Natsu's heart ached as he thought about what this would mean. She would hate him for it. He would have to push her harder than anyone else had, maybe even break the image she had of him—of Naruto—being her quiet support in the background. She would need to see him not as the gentle protector, but as someone who would challenge her, even if it meant forcing her to confront her deepest fears.

"If I don't do this," Natsu thought, his gaze hardening, "Hinata will never reach her full potential. She'll stay trapped in that comfort zone forever, admiring from afar, but never truly becoming what she's meant to be."

He had made sacrifices before, for his sisters, for people who never appreciated him, but this time, the stakes were different. Hinata wasn't just someone to be protected from afar. She needed to be unleashed, and the only way to do that was to corrupt her sense of safety, her reliance on admiration.

Natsu took a deep breath, the weight of the decision sinking into him. He would do what needed to be done, even if it meant pushing her into the darkness, even if it meant becoming someone she would hate for a time. But he wouldn't lose her—not to the world, not to the expectations of her clan, and not to the comfort of living in Naruto's shadow.

This time, Natsu would break her free from that comfort.

Even if it meant becoming the villain in her eyes.

Even if it meant corrupting the very thing she held most dear.