After learning the cruel truth, Naruto, contrary to his usual nature, did not break down in tears.
He bit down on his pale lips, his eyes dimming.
"So it really was like that..."
The standards by which a powerful ninja was measured were "body" and "mind."
Even though Naruto's "body" had already been elevated to an unbelievable level,
his "mind" was still almost that of a newly minted Konoha genin.
At every pivotal stage of his rise to strength, someone else had fought in his place while he barely understood what was happening.
The only part that had truly felt real to him was the year and more he had spent on the land of an alternate dimension with Black Uncle.
But had even that... been a lie?
When he had just awakened from his coma and taken control of this body that felt both familiar and utterly foreign, Black Uncle had taught him the essentials of senjutsu chakra and activating dōjutsu. Had that patient guidance, that exemplary teaching that surpassed even the Pervy Sage's, been a lie?
After training, Black Uncle would wear an apron that did not suit his looks or bearing at all and stand before the stove and cooking pot he had built himself, making ramen that surpassed even Teuchi's. Had the warm smile on his face been a lie?
Whenever Naruto lay awake in that distant land, missing his beloved mentor, his comrades from Team 7, and his companions in Konoha, or woke from nightmares in tears, remembering all the hardships and injustices he had endured since childhood, Black Uncle would always light a campfire. He would grill fish while listening to Naruto pour out his grievances, then reassure him that one day he would be reunited with everyone, that one day they would all