Hinata Hyuga, I Need an Explanation

Bang!

A dull thud rang out, accompanied by a short cry of pain.

The bar of soap Naruto had infused with chakra and thrown using standard concealed-weapon technique traced a perfect arc through the air, striking Jiraiya squarely in the back of the head.

The impact was not strong, but the humiliation was immense.

Jiraiya's scalp went numb. His wooden sandal slipped, and he lost his balance completely. Like a large bird knocked down by a slingshot, he flailed wildly as he tumbled over the dividing wall. With a splash, he crashed into the men's bath, sending up a huge spray of water.

"Cough, cough, cough... Who? Who launched that sneak attack?!"

Jiraiya surfaced from the water in a sorry state, wiped the water from his face, and furiously looked around.

Naruto had already put on his training clothes without any hurry. His black short-sleeved shirt and long pants outlined his lean, capable frame perfectly. Expressionless, he stood at the edge of the bath and looked down at the white-haired man in the water.

"Peeping tom."

His voice was quiet, yet it pierced Jiraiya's ears as clearly as an ice pick.

Jiraiya froze. He got a clear look at the boy before him: blond hair, blue eyes, and six whisker-like marks on his cheeks. Wasn't this Minato's son?

He had expected the boy to be surprised, curious, or to yell like any ordinary child. Instead, Naruto's reaction was as still as stagnant water. That was not the reaction a child should have had.

Jiraiya tried to salvage his dignity. He rose from the water, puffed out his chest, and struck what he considered an imposing pose, pointing his thumb at himself.

"Watch your mouth, brat! I'm one of Konoha's legendary Three Ninja, the famed Toad Sage, Lord Jiraiya!"

He expected to see admiration on Naruto's face.

However, Naruto merely tilted his head. There was not a trace of emotional fluctuation in his icy blue eyes, as if he were analyzing an unknown object. When he spoke again, the words he uttered were exactly the same as before.

"Peeping tom."

Naruto paused.

"At your level, you can be called the Peeping Tom Sage."

Jiraiya's smile froze on his face.

He felt as though he had punched cotton—no, as if he had punched a block of solid ice. What was wrong with this kid...? Where was Minato Namikaze's sunny, cheerful personality? Where was Kushina Uzumaki's fiery enthusiasm? How had neither trait carried over to him?

A storm churned in Jiraiya's heart. He suddenly realized that, as an irresponsible godfather, he might have missed far too much.

Over the next few days, Jiraiya launched a "gentle offensive" against Naruto.

He thought the boy must have become so "unlovable" because he lacked affection. He would use the warmth of his own heart to melt this little iceberg!

On the first day, outside the training grounds.

"Hey, Naruto! Training must've been rough. Let me treat you to Ichiraku Ramen! An extra-large bowl with extra chashu!" Jiraiya called out enthusiastically, waving at him.

Naruto stopped, glanced at Jiraiya, then looked at the sky.

"Fine. There are five minutes until dinner. The timing is suitable."

At the table, Jiraiya animatedly recounted his "heroic exploits" from traveling the world, trying to make Naruto laugh. Naruto said nothing and quietly ate his noodles.

Ten minutes later, Naruto put down his chopsticks. The bowl was spotless; he had even finished the soup.

"Thank you for the meal." He stood and gave a slight bow. "My eating time is over. I need to return for night training."

With that, he turned and left without the slightest hesitation. Jiraiya was left alone, staring blankly at the empty bowl.

On the second day, at a street corner.

"Naruto! Look! Limited-edition popsicles just came out—soda flavor!" Like a child presenting treasure, Jiraiya ran over with two popsicles in hand.

Naruto accepted one and checked the ingredient list.

"High sugar content. Not recommended on non-training days. But it is acceptable as an energy supplement."

He ate it expressionlessly, then accurately tossed the stick into a trash can some distance away.

"Thanks. There are still 1.2 kilometers left on my patrol route. I need to continue."

With that, his figure vanished around the street corner.

Jiraiya stood there holding his own rapidly melting popsicle, completely disheveled in the breeze. Why was this kid like a robot? Even eating seemed like carrying out a mission.

He felt a deep sense of frustration and sorrow.

At Ichiraku Ramen, he once again "ran into" Naruto, who was eating alone. This time, he did not go over to speak with him. He merely sat at a distance and watched silently.

He noticed that every movement Naruto made while eating seemed to have been precisely calculated. The height at which he lifted the noodles, the speed at which he delivered them to his mouth, the number of times he chewed, the angle at which he drank the soup... Everything was optimized to the extreme. There was no enjoyment, no savoring—only the fastest possible intake of energy.

This was not eating. This was clearly refueling a precise killing machine.

Jiraiya's heart sank bit by bit.

What had this child gone through over the years to be worn down into this state? Third Hokage, was this how you took care of Minato's child?!

Training Ground Seventeen.

Naruto gripped the savage Chainsword in his hand as chakra surged through his body.

"Shuriken Shadow Clone Technique!"

He gave a low shout, poured chakra into the Chainsword, and swung it forward with all his strength!

Buzzz—!

More than a dozen phantom Chainswords appeared in the air, but the instant they formed, they flickered and warped violently like a television screen with poor reception. Then, with a pop, they all vanished like soap bubbles being pierced.

Another failure.

Naruto stopped moving and began reviewing the attempt.

The core of this technique was shaping chakra into clones identical to the original. Shuriken were small, light, and simple in structure, so they were easier to replicate successfully.

But the Chainsword was different.

Its weight, complex mechanical structure, and uneven center of gravity all posed exponentially greater challenges to chakra shaping and maintenance. His chakra output had been too concentrated around the hilt and too thin at the tips of the teeth, making the clone structure extremely unstable.

"I need more precise chakra control, as well as a deeper understanding of the weapon's essence..."

He had to become as familiar with every component and every inch of this sword's balance as he was with his own body.

Just as he was deep in thought, an extremely faint sound of cloth brushing against something came from behind a nearby tree.

Naruto did not turn around.

His senses had long since locked onto that location.

There was a chakra signature—weak, but constant. The other person had remained there for more than ten minutes. The same spying behavior had also occurred over the previous two days.

He slowly sheathed the Chainsword into the slot on his back, turned around, and fixed his icy blue eyes on the large tree.

"Hinata Hyuga."

His voice was cold without the slightest trace of warmth, as if he were reading an unquestionable report.

"What is the purpose of your surveillance? Three consecutive days of stalking require an explanation."