Naruto Uzumaki lay on a stone slab in the dimly lit chamber, his body still weak and aching from the injuries that had nearly claimed his life. His breath was steady now, his wounds healed, but his strength had yet to return. Above him, the figure of Madara Uchiha loomed, his Rinnegan glowing faintly as he stared at the boy with an expression that hovered between amusement and disdain.
"You are alive because of me," Madara said, his deep voice filling the room. "And if you want to stay that way, you will do exactly as I say."
Naruto clenched his fists, bristling at the man's tone, but the truth of his words was undeniable. He hated being helpless, hated the thought of owing this decrepit old man anything. But for now, he had no choice.
Madara slid a thick scroll across the slab toward Naruto. "You will read. Use that Sharingan of yours to absorb the knowledge faster. Your education up until now has been... laughable."
Naruto's lips twisted in a scowl. "Tch, I don't need to read. I've gotten this far without—"
A pebble struck him squarely in the forehead with startling speed.
"You'll read," Madara repeated, his voice calm but carrying a sharp edge.
Grumbling, Naruto activated his Sharingan and began scanning the scroll. The words came alive before his eyes, burning themselves into his memory. It wasn't just ninja history or jutsu theory; Madara had compiled an exhaustive syllabus of everything Naruto had missed in his years at the Academy. Geography, world politics, anatomy—things Naruto had barely cared about before were now being forced into his mind at an alarming rate.
Then there were lessons that made Naruto's face turn redder than his jacket.
"Why the hell do I need to know this stuff?!" he shouted, glaring at a diagram he'd rather have erased from his brain.
Madara smirked. "Your 'Sexy Jutsu' is a disgrace. Seduction is an art, not a joke. Any true ninja knows how to manipulate their target—man or woman. That childish version of yours is useless."
Naruto sputtered, his face still flushed. "I—I don't even—!"
"Read."
And so he did, grinding his teeth as he absorbed the humiliating but necessary lessons. When he wasn't reading, Madara drilled him with verbal instruction, his sharp intellect dissecting every weakness in Naruto's understanding of strategy, combat, and human nature.
When Naruto had read every scroll in the lair and could recite them word for word, Madara turned his attention to the boy's body.
"Your mind is sharp, but you're weak as a newborn. You need discipline, and that starts now."
Naruto winced as Zetsu hauled him upright. His legs trembled, and he was forced to lean against the black-and-white creature for support.
"Half-sit-ups," Madara ordered, gesturing for Zetsu to lower him to the ground.
Naruto groaned but obeyed, lifting his upper body as far as he could. His arms shook, his muscles burning with every movement.
"Stop complaining," Madara said coldly. "Weakness disgusts me. If you want to survive, you will work until your body obeys your will."
After what felt like hours, Naruto collapsed, his body drenched in sweat. But Madara wasn't finished.
"Assisted squats. Zetsu, hold him upright."
"Do I look like a trainer to you?" Zetsu grumbled, but complied, gripping Naruto's arms and forcing him to squat repeatedly.
Naruto's legs screamed in protest, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain.
Days turned into weeks, and Naruto's strength slowly returned. He progressed from assisted movements to light drills, then to more intensive training under Madara's watchful eye.
"Dodge," Madara said one day, standing a good distance away with a handful of stones.
Naruto narrowed his eyes, his Sharingan flaring to life. "That's easy—"
The first stone hit him square in the shoulder, knocking him off balance.
"Too slow," Madara said, his tone devoid of sympathy. Another stone flew, striking Naruto in the thigh. "Your eyes see, but your body does not respond. Again."
Naruto gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus. The next stone grazed his cheek, and the one after that barely missed his ribs. He moved awkwardly, his reflexes not yet attuned to his enhanced vision.
After a month of grueling training, Naruto stood in the center of the chamber, breathing hard but steady. His muscles no longer trembled, his stance was solid, and his eyes burned with newfound determination.
Madara observed him with a flicker of approval. "You've progressed faster than I expected. You're still pathetic compared to me, but… you may yet prove useful."
Naruto's lips curled into a faint smirk. "I'll prove more than that, old man."
Madara chuckled. "We'll see, boy. We'll see."
In the shadows, Zetsu watched with a sly grin. The boy had survived the first steps of Madara's training, but far greater challenges lay ahead. Challenges that would shape Naruto Uzumaki into something the world had never seen before.