"Damn fox brat, go die already!"
"Just looking at you makes me sick."
"Why did Lord Hokage let that monster stay in our village?"
"I wish someone would kill him…"
Venomous curses churned along the street as the villagers of Konoha lined both sides, glaring at the blond boy in the middle.
Naruto had grown used to the spite.
Not only did he refuse to get angry—he flashed a sun-bright grin and waved with exaggerated cheer.
"Yo! Morning, everybody!"
The sight of his carefree smile only fanned their rage. Several faces twisted, as if shouting a silent question: Why is that monster allowed to be happy?
Stones flew. Insults echoed.
Naruto ducked the projectiles with practiced ease and jogged the rest of the way home.
The moment the warped door of his rundown apartment thudded shut, the smile slid from his face, replaced by glacier-cold indifference.
"Bunch of trash…" he muttered.
His name was Naruto Uzumaki—yes, the very protagonist of the shinobi world.
Five years ago he had opened his reincarnated eyes to find Kushina Uzumaki, a masked stranger, Minato Namikaze, and the Nine-Tails howling overhead. From that instant he knew he was the newborn Nine-Tails jinchūriki…and that hero treatment was not part of the deal.
After Minato and Kushina died sealing the beast, Hiruzen Sarutobi buried the truth of Naruto's parentage. Every villager who survived the rampage vented their fear and hatred on him. They had harrassed him since infancy, and still he had to play the fool—wearing a bright grin so the village wouldn't sense his bitterness.
Trash, every last one of them.
Shaking off the dark thoughts, Naruto trudged into the kitchen and poured hot water over two cups of instant ramen. It was all he could buy: anything fresh was either moldy or deliberately sold past its date.
Once his stomach stopped rumbling, he pulled out today's school text—"Chakra Refinement Methods."
So it's just what I thought, he mused. Extract mental and physical energies, then fuse them.
Mental energy he had in spades—a mind that had lived two lives. Physical energy, though… He eyed his scrawny frame. Years of nutrient-starved meals left him weaker than kids his age. Still, becoming a shinobi remained his only way forward. Even if the first extraction made him weaker, he would find a remedy later.
Before that, he had one more task.
Naruto extended his right hand toward empty air.
"Open."
CREAK!
The very atmosphere bent, folding outward until a translucent door took shape. Ignoring the fatigue that stabbed his limbs, Naruto reached through and retrieved his hidden stash: a single carton of milk and one sausage—everything he had left from last night's raid.
This was his cheat: the Door-Door Fruit, a Paramecia-type Devil Fruit that let him turn any surface he touched into a doorway.
Back during the Nine-Tails incident, the clash of Flying Thunder God and Kamui tore space apart. A Devil Fruit tumbled through the rift and landed in baby Naruto's blankets. Instinctively, he had gummed a bite.
The ability had lain dormant until last year; only recently could he squeeze out enough stamina to open pocket-doors into shops and "borrow" supplies.
If refining chakra boosts my stamina, I might actually survive using this power, he thought, finishing the milk and sausage.
He sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor, closed his eyes, and began. Minutes crawled by as mental and physical energies separated and spiraled together in his gut—coalescing into faint blue chakra.
The instant that azure light flickered, Naruto's eyes snapped open.
"What…is that?"
In his mind's eye stood an impossible gate—vast, sky-piercing, fashioned from rolling sapphire waves. The roar of surf beat against his thoughts.
It's not the red seal that holds the Nine-Tails, he realized, heart racing.
He forced himself to reenter the vision. At the gentlest brush of consciousness, understanding flooded him.
"This is…the Gate of Worlds—a path to the Pirate World!"