Naruto: With a Ghost Mom and a Grumpy Fox

---

So.

Let me start by saying this:

I almost had it.

No, seriously. I was this close to grabbing one of those stupid silver bells off Kakashi-sensei's waistband. And if I'd pulled it off, I'd probably be strutting through Konoha right now with a bell tied to my forehead protector like a victory charm.

But no.

I hesitated.

For half a second.

And that was all it took for him to ruin everything.

Let me back up.

---

While Sasuke was off trying to kill Kakashi with fireballs and angry eye contact, and Sakura was busy falling into genjutsu traps that made her scream about fake bloody Sasukes, I was doing something different.

I was thinking.

Like, actually thinking. Planning. Adjusting.

Because I wasn't just a hyperactive kid chasing dreams anymore.

I had Mom's quiet voice whispering reminders.

And Kurama's snarky commentary pushing me forward.

"He's not using his full strength," Mom warned gently. "That means he's waiting to see what kind of ninja you'll be."

"Which means you better stop acting like a wind-up monkey," Kurama added helpfully. "Or I'm going back to sleep."

Gee, thanks.

---

Anyway, I set up three traps.

One clone rigged a tripwire under the surface of the pond near the clearing.

Another clone borrowed a bunch of rope and shuriken from my pouch and created a swinging log trap—not deadly, just enough to distract.

And the third clone?

He was me.

The real me?

I was in the trees, hiding.

Waiting.

Watching.

---

Then, like clockwork, Sasuke tried his move.

He burst from the trees like a firework, hands flashing through seals.

"Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!"

It was big. Flashy. And totally got Kakashi's attention.

For half a second.

The man disappeared underground like a mole with teleportation jutsu and popped up behind Sasuke like, "Hello there."

Sasuke barely dodged.

"He's underground-type," I whispered. "He likes low-angle ambushes…"

"Yes!" Mom said, proud. "Don't just watch—read him."

"Also don't just sit there with your mouth open," Kurama growled. "He's distracted. Go."

Right.

It was now or never.

---

I launched two Shadow Clones from different angles.

One from above.

One from the ground.

Kakashi spun to block the aerial one with a kunai—and that was my cue.

The real me dropped from a tree directly behind him, kunai ready.

I didn't aim to stab.

I aimed for the bell cord.

The wire glinted in the sunlight.

I was centimeters away.

So. Close.

But right then—

Kakashi vanished.

Again.

And reappeared crouched beside a log, one hand resting under his chin like this was all just a lazy game of tag.

"Nice try," he said. "You're improving."

I didn't know whether to feel proud or scream into the dirt.

---

We regrouped after noon, all three of us looking… rough.

Sasuke had some dirt on his shirt.

Sakura had twigs in her hair.

I had bruises in places I couldn't even remember hitting.

Kakashi appeared in front of us like he hadn't just humiliated three kids before lunchtime.

He didn't smile.

He didn't say "good job."

He just looked at us quietly.

And for once, we didn't talk either.

Even I stayed quiet.

Which, according to Kurama, was a miracle on par with summoning a tailed beast with ramen.

---

"You all failed," Kakashi said, arms crossed.

Sakura's face fell.

Sasuke glared at the ground.

I stayed still.

But not because I accepted it.

Because I wanted to know why.

"Do you know why you failed?" he asked.

None of us answered.

Not even me.

Kakashi let the silence hang for a moment, then walked over to the stump where the bento boxes were placed.

Our lunch.

The lunch we were specifically told not to eat.

"You said we couldn't eat," I mumbled.

"I lied," Kakashi replied easily. "A ninja must see through deception."

Sasuke clenched his fists.

Sakura looked like she wanted to vanish.

Kakashi turned his head slightly.

"Everything about this test was meant to show me how you think under pressure. You focused on the wrong thing—the bells. You didn't even realize the real test…"

He paused.

…was about teamwork."

The words dropped like a shuriken in a silent room.

Sakura gasped softly.

Sasuke looked away.

And me?

I bit the inside of my cheek.

Teamwork.

Right.

It sounded good. Noble. But…

Something twisted in my gut.

"…Kakashi-sensei," I said slowly, voice lower than usual. "Can I say something?"

He looked at me, one brow raised. "Go ahead."

I took a step forward.

"You said this test was about teamwork. That we failed because we didn't trust each other. But…" I hesitated. "You only gave us two bells."

He said nothing.

"So right from the start, you made it a fight," I continued. "Three people. Two bells. One person gets left behind, no matter what. That's not a team. That's a gamble."

Sakura flinched beside me.

Sasuke just listened, unreadable.

I wasn't mad.

I was just… tired.

Tired of trying to earn trust from people who had no reason to give it.

"I've been alone for as long as I can remember," I said, staring at the ground. "I don't even know what real teamwork is supposed to feel like."

I glanced at Sasuke.

"We don't get along. Not yet. I get it—he's strong, he's serious, and I'm loud and annoying. Whatever."

Then at Sakura.

"And her? She'd never pick me over Sasuke. No matter what."

Sakura opened her mouth, but I kept talking.

"You want us to risk our lives for each other. But if I know they won't choose me when it counts… how do I risk everything for them?"

The silence that followed was heavy.

I hadn't yelled.

I hadn't whined.

I just… asked.

The thing I'd been carrying inside for years.

"He's not wrong," Kurama muttered in my chest. "This village taught him to survive alone. Not to trust."

"But he wants to learn," Mom whispered gently. "He just doesn't know how."

Kakashi looked at me, his visible eye unreadable.

Then he sighed.

"You're right."

That made everyone look up.

"In a real mission, stakes can be just as unfair," he continued. "Sometimes the odds are cruel. Sometimes betrayal happens. And sometimes the people you count on… aren't there for you."

He stepped forward.

"But if you let that fear stop you from trying to connect, you'll never build a team at all."

He gestured toward the bells.

"The bells weren't the point. The conditions weren't fair on purpose. Because the shinobi world isn't fair."

He looked at each of us—Sasuke, Sakura, then me.

"I wanted to see what you'd do with that."

---

I lowered my gaze.

Still thinking.

It didn't erase the years I'd spent on the outside. The pain of being hated without knowing why. The hollow stares. The muttering.

But…

Now I had a sensei who saw that.

And teammates who—maybe—didn't understand yet, but could learn.

And maybe I could, too.

"…I still think it's a messed-up way to test people," I mumbled.

Kakashi actually chuckled.

"It is."

Then he turned and said the words I honestly didn't expect to hear:

"But you pass. All of you."

---

Sakura gasped.

Sasuke stiffened.

Me?

I smiled.

Quietly.

Because for the first time, I felt like I belonged.

"You're proud of him," Kurama muttered to Kushina.

"Always," she whispered back.

And that was enough for me.

---