009 Getting Back on His Feet - Naruto’s POV

  Naruto might have lost his memories, but never his fighting spirit.

  Every day, without fail, he trained.

  Even though his body felt foreign and sluggish at times, he pushed forward. Even though he barely had any recollection of his past abilities, he refused to give up. It was just in his nature—his gut told him that much.

  Hinata helped him catch up, taking time out of her own schedule to guide him through the basics.

  “Start with chakra molding,” she instructed one morning, standing before him in the open construction site. “Feel the energy inside you. Guide it through your body.”

  Naruto frowned, sitting cross-legged on the concrete floor. Feel the energy, huh? He shut his eyes, breathing in, then out.

  Nothing happened.

  “Don’t force it,” Hinata said gently, kneeling beside him. “Let it flow.”

  After a few more frustrating minutes, a flicker of warmth stirred in his core. It was faint—barely there—but real.

  Hinata smiled. “Good. Now, let’s build from that.”

  They went through everything, step by step.

  From basic chakra molding to hand seals, from tree walking to water walking. Taijutsu was an entire challenge of its own. His muscle memory helped, but his body wasn’t cooperating the way he wanted it to. It felt like a dance he had once mastered, now forgotten.

  But he kept moving. Kept fighting.

  Whenever Hinata left to “work,” he used his alone time to experiment with his Transformation Jutsu. He needed to master his chakra again, and this was one of the easiest techniques he could practice without breaking anything.

  At first, he simply worked on getting the details right—the hair, the clothes, the height. He could even tweak facial features, though sometimes it resulted in weird, distorted versions of himself.

  And then… he got too into it.

  One moment, he was adjusting minor details, making sure his Transformation Jutsu was precise.

  The next—

  Poof!

  Naruto blinked at his reflection in the broken mirror.

  This was only the second time he was using this perverted jutsu… but he was already getting better.

  Long, golden locks cascaded over his shoulders. His body was… curvier than before. This time, it looked more refined, almost natural. His figure was toned in just the right places, his complexion smooth, and—

  His tracksuit barely fit.

  “…What the hell.”

  He took a step back, half in awe, half in horror.

  This was—this was better than before.

  No, way too good.

  He clenched his fists, his new… delicate fingers twitching as he tried to process what had just happened.

  “…What the actual hell?!”

  His mind went blank. His face turned red.

  This was bad. Really bad.

  What if Hinata saw?!

  Naruto dispelled the transformation so fast he nearly tripped over himself. He slapped a hand over his face, shaking his head furiously.

  No, no, no. Forget it. Forget it ever happened.

  But—

  He hesitated.

  Admittedly… and guiltily… he had to admit—

  The technique had a lot of potential.

  For the following days, a routine naturally formed.

  Every morning, Hinata would wake first. She would prepare a simple breakfast—usually rice, miso soup, and whatever protein they could afford to buy or scavenge. She made sure he ate well before heading out, offering a small smile as she grabbed her bag.

  “I’ll be back by the afternoon,” she always said.

  And then she was gone.

  Naruto would then spend the morning training.

  He went through chakra molding drills, taijutsu exercises, and refining his hand seals. Sometimes, he tried to force out new memories through sheer willpower, but that never worked. He didn’t let it bother him too much—if anything, it just made him more determined to push forward.

  By the afternoon, Hinata would return, and they would spar.

  That was when she would talk to him about his past.

  “Your main fighting style was unpredictable,” she told him one day, blocking one of his punches with ease. “But effective. You were… creative with how you fought.”

  Naruto scoffed, shaking out his hand. “That’s a fancy way of saying I fought like a total amateur, huh?”

  Hinata blinked. “No,” she said, almost offended by the idea. “You were never an amateur. You just refused to fight by the book.”

  Naruto grinned. “Sounds like a swell guy.”

  Hinata nodded, her expression softening.

  Sometimes, she talked about his childhood—what little she knew of it.

  Naruto learned that he had a signature technique, the Rasengan, which was apparently created by the Fourth Hokage and taught to him by his Jiraiya-sensei.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Naruto interrupted, dodging a palm strike. “Who’s Jiraiya again?”

  Hinata hesitated.

  “He was your mentor,” she finally answered, her voice distant. “A great shinobi. He… meant a lot to you.”

  Naruto frowned. “Past tense?”

  Hinata didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stepped back, lowered her stance, and resumed the spar.

  Naruto didn’t press further.

  When evening came, they would eat together.

  That was when Naruto took over the conversation.

  He was naturally curious, so he pestered Hinata with questions about her life.

  “What was your childhood like?”

  “What was your family like?”

  “Why did you become a shinobi?”

  Sometimes, Hinata answered with fondness, telling him about her father, her little sister, and her days in the Academy.

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  Other times, she looked wistful.

  And there were moments when she seemed reluctant, almost hesitant to speak.

  Naruto didn’t like seeing that look on her face.

  He didn’t know much about his past self, but he knew one thing for certain—

  He didn’t like seeing people sad.

  Naruto continued his training, half-hoping to regain his memories.

  However, no matter how much Naruto trained, how hard he focused, his memories remained a stubborn, foggy mess.

  But that didn't mean he would stop trying.

  Hinata had done so much for him. Taking care of him. Training him. Feeding him. Protecting him. The least he could do was work as hard as possible—to wake up his memories, to regain what he had lost, and to be someone worthy of all her kindness.

  And so, Naruto pushed himself.

  He threw himself into training, repeating chakra exercises over and over until his limbs ached. He fumbled through cooking, determined to prepare breakfast before Hinata woke up—only to find her already awake much earlier the next day and smiling softly as she set the table.

  He sighed in defeat. Every single time.

  Hinata was like an unstoppable force when it came to breakfast.

  But dinner?

  Dinner was fair game.

  Naruto figured out his window of opportunity after a few failed attempts. When Hinata was out during the day, he would prepare dinner before she got back. His first few attempts were, admittedly, disasters—burnt rice, overcooked noodles, soup that tasted like it held a personal grudge against him. But with trial and error, and a lot of apologizing, he slowly got the hang of it.

  And when they sat together for dinner, sharing a quiet moment, Naruto always felt a little more at home.

  Sometimes, during their meals, Hinata would lecture him about Konoha’s history.

  It was fascinating, really—learning about the Hidden Villages, the Five Great Nations, the legacy of shinobi. But there were moments, small pauses, where Naruto could tell she was avoiding something.

  Something painful.

  But Naruto never pushed.

  Because that was just another part of Hinata.

  Her gentle nature. Her kindness.

  And it only made her all the more endearing.

  Naruto wiped the sweat off his forehead, staring at his hands. His breathing was heavy, his heart pounding in his chest.

  Just now—he felt it.

  Something familiar. Something that wasn’t new but wasn’t entirely known either.

  His chakra surged inside him, instinctively flowing as if his body was beginning to remember something he himself could not.

  And then—

  Poof!

  A thick cloud of smoke erupted around him. When it cleared, Naruto found himself staring at three identical versions of himself.

  His eyes widened.

  Shadow Clones.

  Hinata had mentioned them before—his ‘other’ signature jutsu. A technique he had apparently relied on countless times in the past.

  He hadn’t meant to do it.

  And yet, it worked.

  Naruto grinned, his excitement bubbling over. "No way!" He clenched his fists. "I really did it!"

  The clones grinned back at him, mirroring his excitement. Then one of them tripped over a rock and face-planted.

  "...Tch," Naruto sighed. "Looks like I still need practice."

  That afternoon, when Hinata returned, Naruto could hardly contain himself. The moment they started sparring, he sprang into action.

  And when three more Narutos suddenly appeared alongside him, rushing at Hinata in perfect synchronization—

  Hinata stumbled back, eyes wide.

  "You—!" She barely dodged a coordinated strike. "You already mastered it!?"

  Naruto laughed as he lunged again, his movements sharper, his instincts keener. "Not mastered yet! But—"

  He vanished, reappearing behind her with a well-timed substitution.

  "I'm getting there!"

  Since then, Naruto’s training had progressed dramatically.

  With Shadow Clones, he could split his training across multiple areas at once. Taijutsu, shurikenjutsu, chakra control—it all improved at a rapid pace. And strangely enough, whenever his clones dispelled, small bits of memories would trickle back to him.

  Faint, blurry flashes of a past he still couldn’t grasp completely.

  Sometimes, there was too much information at once. It gave him headaches, made his thoughts feel jumbled. But little by little, he was learning to parse through them.

  One moment at a time.

  Naruto tugged at the sleeve of his tracksuit, frowning at the frayed edges. The once-sturdy fabric was beginning to come apart, worn down by days of relentless training.

  He sighed. "Man… I kinda liked this one, too."

  Hinata had done her best to provide for him, and he appreciated it—really, he did. But the cheap training clothes she had picked out for him? A plain T-shirt and shorts?

  Not his style.

  He wasn’t picky—at least, he didn’t think he was—but there was something about sleeves that made him feel more… complete. His tracksuit, even if he couldn’t quite remember why, just felt right.

  Maybe it had something to do with muscle memory.

  Whenever he moved, his arms twitched like they were expecting to slide something from inside his sleeves—like a kunai or a shuriken. But in these short sleeves? Nothing.

  It was frustrating.

  Hinata had noticed, of course. She was sharp like that. She even suggested getting him a custom pouch for weapons, which—yeah, that would help—but Naruto was too aware of their financial situation.

  "Don’t worry about it," he had told her. "We can make do with what we got."

  Hinata had looked at him for a moment, her lips pressing together. Then, she nodded.

  Naruto knew she wanted to help, but money was tight. He couldn’t just let her spend what little they had on him. Of course, he suggested to use his Shadow Clones to earn money, but Hinata insisted he shouldn’t… or he’d risk attention from the unsavory kind of Jujutsu Sorcerer.

  Two weeks had passed.

  Naruto had trained every single day, pushing himself harder than ever. His progress had been rapid—almost unnatural—but he chalked it up to muscle memory kicking in. Every punch, every kick, every time he formed a hand seal, it felt familiar.

  Not completely right, not perfect, but familiar enough.

  Tonight, as Hinata returned to the abandoned construction site—their makeshift home—Naruto could tell something was different. She looked more… resolute. Determined.

  She set down her bag and took a deep breath. "Naruto-kun, what do you think about going to Jujutsu High?"

  Naruto blinked, caught off guard.

  They hadn’t talked about it. Not once. For two weeks, they avoided the topic like the plague. But now, it seemed Hinata had finally made a decision.

  He rubbed the back of his head, giving her a grin. "I told you before, didn’t I? I’ll support whatever decision you make."

  Hinata’s eyes softened, but then she hesitated. "...Naruto-kun, I haven’t been going to work."

  He frowned. "Huh?"

  "I’ve been lying to you," she admitted, her fingers tightening into fists. "I’m sorry."

  Naruto tilted his head, confused. "Why?"

  "Because I’ve been investigating Jujutsu High."

  Oh.

  That… actually made a lot of sense. Now that he thought about it, Hinata always came back too exhausted for just a part-time job.

  "...So, what did you find out?" he asked.

  Hinata took a seat on a concrete block, motioning for him to do the same. "I learned a lot. About Curses. About Jujutsu Sorcerers. And about their techniques."

  Naruto sat next to her, listening carefully as she spoke.

  "They have something similar to a shinobi’s Bloodline Limit," she explained. "It’s called an Innate Technique."

  Naruto frowned. "Innate Technique?"

  Hinata nodded. "It’s a unique ability a Jujutsu Sorcerer is born with—just like how some shinobi inherit their clan’s special techniques. My Byakugan would be an example of a Bloodline Limit."

  Naruto whistled. "So, if we go to this school, we gotta pretend our jutsu are Innate Techniques, huh?"

  "Exactly," Hinata said. "Your Shadow Clone Jutsu can probably pass as one. Even your Transformation Jutsu—if you phrase it the right way. But if you suddenly pull out a Rasengan, which has no connection to your clones, it might raise suspicions."

  Naruto leaned back, staring at the night sky. "And if they get suspicious…?"

  Hinata’s voice was quiet. "Then they might try to force us to reveal how our abilities work."

  Naruto’s easygoing grin faltered. That… didn’t sound good.

  "...But you still think this is worth it?" he asked after a long silence.

  Hinata inhaled deeply before nodding. "I do."

  Naruto glanced at her, taking in her determined expression.

  "Then that’s good enough for me," he said with a grin.

  Hinata blinked. "...Just like that?"

  "Just like that," Naruto confirmed.

  He didn’t need to know everything. He didn’t need to understand all the risks. He trusted her.

  And for now, that was all that mattered.

  Naruto sat in silence, his fingers digging into his knees.

  Hinata had told him so much tonight. Too much.

  His mind kept circling back to a particular detail—the way techniques were monopolized by villages and clans back in their world. The way bloodlines and jutsu were guarded like treasures.

  "...So, if these Jujutsu Sorcerers find out how our chakra works, they might try to keep it for themselves?" he finally asked.

  Hinata nodded solemnly. "It's possible."

  Naruto exhaled sharply through his nose. Damn.

  As if things weren’t already complicated enough.

  Before he could dwell on it further, Hinata continued. "Naruto-kun… I made contact with Gojo Satoru."

  Naruto stiffened. "You what?"

  "I spoke with him," Hinata said, her voice steady. "And I made an arrangement."

  A lump formed in Naruto’s throat. "What kind of arrangement?"

  Hinata hesitated before answering. "...A scholarship."

  Naruto blinked. "A scholarship?"

  Hinata nodded. "In exchange, we’ll have to pay the school back in the future. The job of a Jujutsu Sorcerer has a high payout. There’s even a bounty system for every Cursed Spirit exorcised."

  Naruto frowned. "Cursed Spirit?"

  "The monsters we fought," Hinata clarified. "That's what they’re called."

  Naruto absorbed that information slowly, then exhaled. "Man… I wish I could’ve helped you more."

  Hinata tilted her head, looking genuinely confused. "Why?"

  He furrowed his brows. "You’ve been doing everything. Investigating, gathering intel, making deals, watching my back… And I’ve just been training like an idiot."

  Hinata’s confusion only deepened. "...Naruto-kun, why aren’t you angry?"

  Now Naruto was confused. "Huh?"

  "Because I lied to you," she admitted.

  Naruto shrugged. "And? Everything turned out fine, didn’t it?"

  Hinata stared at him for a moment, then sighed, her lips curling into a relieved smile.

  Naruto barely had time to react before she reached into her pouch and pulled something out.

  A headband.

  It had a metal plate, and on that plate was an engraving—a leaf.

  The second Naruto saw it, his chest tightened.

  That symbol…

  It felt important. Familiar. Like something that should have meant everything to him.

  He swallowed thickly as Hinata pulled at the collar of her hoodie, revealing a similar headband tied around her neck.

  "I still had mine when we arrived in this world," she said softly. "But you lost yours. So, I commissioned a local smithy to carve this for you."

  Naruto reached out, running his fingers over the smooth metal.

  "...Hinata." His voice was uncharacteristically quiet.

  Hinata smiled at him.

  Without thinking, Naruto leaned in, gripping the headband in his hands. "...Can you put it on for me?"

  Hinata’s cheeks dusted pink, but she nodded.

  She lifted the headband and gently tied it around his forehead.

  As soon as it settled into place, Naruto felt something—

  A spark. A flicker of something deep inside him.

  Memories still eluded him, but at that moment, for the first time since waking up in this unfamiliar world, Naruto felt like he belonged.