Naruto: The Fate of Beasts

The academy building loomed over Kaito like a stern guardian, its wooden doors carved with the Leaf symbol. Children streamed past him, their laughter sharp and foreign. Naruto bounded ahead, shouting over his shoulder, "C'mon, Kaito! We're gonna be late!"

The sound of his own name still startled him. After months of "Glowy-Eyes," Naruto had shifted almost casually, as if the nickname had worn out its novelty. Kaito lingered at the threshold, his fingers brushing the edge of his bandana. The fabric sat snug against his brow, a constant pressure he'd grown accustomed to. It never slipped anymore—not since he'd learned to tie it properly, the folds tight and deliberate.

"You comin' or what?" Naruto reappeared, grabbing his sleeve.

Kaito flinched but allowed himself to be dragged inside.

The room fell silent as they entered. Twenty pairs of eyes flicked toward Kaito—curious, wary, but not unkind. He kept his gaze low, tracing the grooves in the wooden floorboards. The air smelled of chalk and pine, and sunlight filtered through dusty windows, casting long shadows over rows of desks.

Naruto plopped into a seat near the front, patting the spot beside him. Kaito hesitated, then slid into the desk at the very back, closest to the door.

"Who's that, is he blind?" a boy with a buzzcut whispered to his neighbor.

"New kid," the girl beside him replied, her voice tinged with curiosity. "I heard he's from some clan up north and he can see through the blindfold"

"Why the blindfold then?" another asked., "So he can look cool?" . "Maybe he has bugs in his eyes like the Aburame." another said before another boy in dark glasses promptly threw something at him.

Kaito's jaw tightened. The whispers were softer here than in the markets, less venomous, but they still prickled.

Iruka-sensei strode in, a stack of papers clutched to his chest. His eyes flicked to Kaito, lingering a beat too long. "Class, we have a new student. Kaito Tenshiro. Please make him feel welcome."

A smattering of polite applause rippled through the room. Kaito stood mechanically, his voice flat. "My name is Kaito. I… look forward to training with you."

The silence stretched, but it was broken not by jeers, but by Naruto's loud whoop. "Yeah! Kaito's gonna be my right-hand man when I'm Hokage!"

A few students snickered, but Iruka silenced them with a look. "Thank you, Kaito. You may sit."

Later, beneath a cloudless sky, the class gathered for taijutsu drills. Kaito hovered at the edge of the field, his stance guarded. Across the yard, a boy with a pale face and a permanent scowl—Sasuke, someone had called him—moved with lethal precision, dispatching training dummies in fluid strikes.

"Kaito!" Iruka called. "Pair up with Sakura."

The pink-haired girl stepped forward, her expression a mix of curiosity and hesitation. "Hi," she said softly.

Kaito nodded once.

They circled each other, Sakura's fists raised in a textbook guard. Kaito mirrored her, his movements stiff. When she lunged, he sidestepped easily, his body reacting before his mind could follow. Sakura stumbled, cheeks flushing.

"Stop holding back," Iruka said, arms crossed.

Kaito's jaw clenched. The next time Sakura struck, he blocked—gentle, controlled—but she overbalanced, wobbling precariously. Instinctively, he caught her wrist to steady her.

"Th-thanks," she stammered, pulling away quickly.

Whispers trailed him for the rest of the lesson, but they lacked malice.

*"He's fast."*

*"Weird, though."*

*"Bet he's got bugs."*

Naruto, meanwhile, face-planted into a dummy. "AGH! Stupid thing!"

Kaito almost smiled. Almost.

Dusk painted the streets in amber as Kaito trudged toward the apartment. Naruto chattered beside him, undeterred by the day's tensions.

"—and then Iruka-sensei said my form was 'improving'! Which basically means I'm a genius, right? Right?"

Kaito hummed noncommittally.

"Hey." Naruto stopped, uncharacteristically serious. "Don't let those guys bug you. They're just… y'know. Nosy."

Kaito glanced at him. "You used to call them jerks."

Naruto scratched his head. "Yeah, well. Maybe they're not so bad. Just… figuring stuff out. Like us."

Weeks passed. Autumn leaves crunched underfoot as Kaito walked to the academy alone one morning, Naruto delayed by another prank gone wrong. The ANBU shadowing him today wore a boar mask, their presence a silent hum at the edge of his awareness.

"Kaito!"

He turned. Sakura jogged toward him, her cheeks pink from the cold. "I, uh… wanted to ask. How'd you get so good at taijutsu?"

He paused. "I'm not."

"You are! You never lose."

"I don't try to win. I just… don't want to hurt anyone."

She tilted her head. "That's so noble."

Before he could reply, Naruto skidded into view, breathless. "Kaito! Iruka-sensei's gonna kill me—help me hide the paint buckets!"

Sakura rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless, Naruto."

"Am not! Kaito, back me up!"

Kaito hesitated, then shrugged, before grabbing the paint buckets and chucking them as hard as he could onto the roof of a nearby building. "You're hopeless."

Naruto gaped. "Traitor!"

By winter, the whispers had dulled to background noise. Kaito's bandana became as much a part of him as Naruto's orange jacket—unremarkable, expected. Even Daisuke, the buzzcut boy, had taken to challenging him to shuriken-throwing contests, though he'd never admit it was out of respect.

One afternoon, as snow dusted the training grounds, Naruto flopped onto the bench beside Kaito. "Hey. You ever gonna show me that thing you do?"

"What thing?"

"Y'know." Naruto mimed a dramatic pose, hands flaring. "The glowy-eye stuff!"

Kaito's fingers brushed his bandana. "It's not… safe."

"So? I'm not scared!"

"I am."

"Why?"

"I…don't want to talk about it."

"But talking helps you know, makes all the bad stuff feel not so bad!"

"Drop it Naruto." Kaito said, his voice tinged with anger.

Naruto frowned, then bumped his shoulder. "You'll figure it out. You're like… the smartest person I know."

Kaito stared at him. "You don't know many people."

"Shut up!"

————

That night, Kaito lay awake, the day's echoes haunting him. Moonlight spilled through the barred window, slicing the room into fragments of light and dark. Somewhere beyond the village walls, the red-cloaked figures where still out there, still alive when they don't deserve to be. Somewhere closer, the ANBU watched.

He pressed a palm to his chest, feeling the steady drum of his heartbeat. *I'm still here Mom.*