Naruto: Thrown Into the Leaf

Alright, gather around. Storytime.

So this one guy—let's call him Captain Critique—decided to bless my humble little fanfic with 17 negative comments in a single night. Seventeen. That's not criticism, that's a personal vendetta. I thought maybe I messed up something… until I checked his profile.

What I found was art.

He's "read" over 7,900 books with only 30 minutes of total reading time. Sir, are you a chakra spirit skimming time-space? Because that math ain't mathing.

He leaves negativity like it's a full-time job.

And the cherry on top? He wrote a novel—and got mobbed with 1-star reviews by other authors who were just tired of his mouth. 🤣🤣

This man is not a reader. He's a walking comment section disease. He's what happens when the Internet sneezes and forgets to cover its mouth.

Honestly, I feel honored.First official hater? That's a rite of passage, baby. We made it.He may be a bot. He may be some grown man with too much free time and not enough hugs. Either way—he counts. And he's pressed.

So I raise a glass to you, Captain Critique. May your next 1-star review hit harder than your attention span. 🥂And to my real readers—thank you. You're the reason I keep writing. Let's keep the story rolling. Haters gonna scroll. 💀

—

Today, the sky was cloudy, and the wind had picked up. 

Looks like it's going to rain, Otis thought, glancing up at the darkening sky.

The main reason he lived out here was simple: money.

The monthly allowance given to orphans by the village didn't go far — especially not with his appetite. Out here, he could train freely, hunt in the forest, and live with fewer eyes on him.

It was peaceful. And it was enough for him.

Otis set his basket down by the riverbank and began stretching, rolling his shoulders once with a quiet crack.

He was getting ready for his spar with Hinata.

She was improving — fast.

But so was he.

Fighting someone trained in clan-style taijutsu… it's different, Otis thought, pulling his hair back into a quick knot.

The academy taught forms. But clan techniques — they were on a whole different level.

They don't just hit. They mean it.

Hinata was already in position.

She stood across from him in the grassy clearing, her stance steady, palms open.

Her Byakugan activated, veins tracing lightly around her eyes.

Otis walked to the center and turned to face her.

The ground shifted slightly under his weight.

He didn't speak.

Neither did she.

Then—

She dashed forward.

Thump.

Her first strike hit his side — clean, solid contact.

But Otis didn't even flinch.

She followed up: elbow, palm, wrist flick — chakra-infused strikes targeting his tenketsu and internal points.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Nothing.

He just stood there, arms relaxed, watching her like a gust of wind trying to tip a wall.

Hinata stepped back, panting slightly.

"Did… did I even hit the right spots?" she asked, uncertain.

Otis rolled his shoulder. "Yeah. You hit them."

"Then why didn't it—?"

"You're good. But I'm not a normal body type."

She frowned. "You mean…?"

"My muscles are too thick. And I'm just… too big. My chakra points are buried deep. You'd have to dig to reach them."

He looked at her small hands and gave the faintest smirk. "If you can."

Hinata's brow twitched. "That's… not fair."

"It's nature."

"Can't I… learn to counter it?"

Otis looked at her a moment, then stepped forward. She tensed.

He gently took her wrist — not forceful, just firm.

"You don't need to fight me. You just need to fight better."

"But you're what I want to catch up to."

He let go.

And She stared down at her hand, then she nodded herself, her breath a little shaky.

"I'll figure it out," she said softly. "Someday… I'll make even you stumble."

Otis turned back to his fish. 

"Then I'll look forward to that."

She picked up her towel and gloves, quietly smiling.

She bowed deeply.

"Thank you, Otis."

"Don't thank me," he replied, sitting down on the rock.

"I didn't do anything."

She looked back over her shoulder.

"That's why it helped."

***

The next day

The wind had picked up. Winter was creeping in, though the first snow had yet to fall.

Otis stood outside his hut, looking up at the sky with narrowed eyes.

It's going to rain, he thought.

It had been a few days since he ate lunch at the Uchiha compound for the first time. Mikoto had invited him again — and again after that.

Hinata had also made it a routine to train with him.

Every day.

After every spar, Otis would catch fresh fish or gather herbs, and Hinata — without being asked — cooked them. It was an unspoken agreement between them.

Neither of them said it aloud. But they both knew.

That morning, he looked over at her as she wiped sweat from her brow.

"I'll be eating lunch with the Uchiha," Otis said plainly.

Hinata nodded. "Okay. I'll head home early then.

***

Location: Uchiha Clan Compound — Mikoto's home, early afternoon.

The streets of the Uchiha district were quiet. Too quiet.

After the Nine-Tails incident, the clan had been relocated to the outskirts of the village. Aside from the Uchihas themselves, few passed through here.

Otis stood at the gate.

He wore his cleanest shirt — still a bit wrinkled 

He carried a small cloth-wrapped basket of salted river fish.

He Then knocked — politely,

The door opened within seconds.

"You actually came," Mikoto said, smiling. "I was starting to think you were politely ignoring me."

Otis looked down at her — she barely came to his chest.

"I was. But politely."

She laughed. "At least you're honest. Come in."

Mikoto chuckled as she took the basket from him and peeked inside. "You brought fish? Let me make it for you"

"Still hiding from people?" she added, walking ahead.

"I call it training," Otis replied.

"I call it avoidance."

Otis raised a brow. "You call everything avoidance."

"That's because you avoid everything."

Despite her protests, Otis helped her in the kitchen.

The cutting board thumped softly under his steady hands. His grip on the knife was precise — but slow. He was careful with the fish, slicing cleanly, not wasting a bit.

Mikoto leaned against the counter, drying tea cups with a cloth. Her eyes flicked to his shoulders — How easily they flexed with effortless control.

"Still training by the river?"

Otis didn't look up. "Yes."

"Alone?"

"Usually."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Usually?"

He paused.

"The Hyūga girl shows up sometimes."

"Who?"

"Hinata?"

"The Hyūga princess?"

He nodded. "She spars with me."

"Brave of her."

"She asked. I didn't stop her."

Mikoto smiled to herself, folding the cloth in her hands.

"And what does she get out of it?"

Otis paused for a moment. "Frustration. Bruised hands. And… progress. Maybe."

"Mmm." She hummed. A thoughtful sound.

A moment passed before Mikoto added, casually:

"You know, in our clan, that might be mistaken for courtship."

Otis blinked.

"Throwing hands?"

"No," she said, chuckling. "Showing up every day without fail. Quiet admiration. Soft meals after training. That kind of thing."

"...I don't feed her."

"Yet."

He grunted.

Mikoto's smirk deepened.

"You're more trouble than you know, Otis."

They sat quietly for a while.

The afternoon passed gently. Distant sounds of children arguing over chopsticks echoed from the other room — Sayuri's voice teasing Sasuke, loud as always.

It was… normal.

Otis exhaled slowly.

"Thank you for the invitation."

"Don't thank me," she said gently. "Just come again."

...

(A/N)If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a review or drop your ideas in the comments!Power stones help keep this going!