Road to Redemption - CH - 17 (Patreon)

As Naruto dashed off to the Academy with a cheerful wave, Izuna stood at the door, watching the boy disappear into the distance. The bustling village streets were now calm in the morning light, with villagers going about their day. But for Izuna, this was when his own day truly began.

Once Naruto was out of sight, Izuna locked the door of their small apartment and turned toward the hidden training ground they had spent months clearing out and fortifying. It had been a long process, but now the abandoned area was their sanctuary—Naruto’s playground of progress and Izuna’s crucible for survival.

The training ground lay just beyond the outskirts of Konoha, nestled deep in the woods where few ventured. Secured by layers of protective seals, no one could sense what happened inside. The area was as secret as their training—known only to them. The natural silence and isolation were exactly what Izuna needed for what was to come.

He walked slowly, feeling the cool morning breeze on his skin, using his other senses to navigate the woods with precision. Izuna’s eyes, though open, saw nothing but darkness. His blindness was permanent, yet he had learned long ago not to let it hinder him. Instead, he had sharpened his remaining senses to near-superhuman levels, relying on sound, smell, and the subtle vibrations in the air to map his surroundings.

Upon reaching the training ground, Izuna stood still for a moment, taking in the quiet. He could hear birds chirping far off in the distance and the rustling of the leaves as the wind blew through the trees. But it was more than that. Izuna could sense the faint, residual heat left by the wildlife that had passed through earlier, and he felt the ground pulse beneath his feet as small creatures burrowed below.

This heightened awareness had become second nature to him over time, but he knew it wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed to be better.

With a single hand sign, Izuna summoned multiple shadow clones—each one an exact replica of himself, ready to serve as sparring partners. They spread out across the training ground, preparing for the intense session ahead. The clones knew what was coming next, and so did Izuna.

Standing still in the center of the training ground, Izuna concentrated. His body tensed, his heartbeat slowed, and with great effort, he activated his heat vision.

Immediately, a sharp, searing pain shot through his head as his blood vessels strained and his body protested. His eye sockets throbbed, and blood began to seep from the corners of his eyes, staining his pale skin. But Izuna didn’t flinch. Pain was an old friend, one he had learned to fight alongside rather than against.

The world around him became a landscape of reds, yellows, and oranges, as he began to perceive the heat signatures of everything within range—trees, animals, his clones, even the faint warmth left by Naruto’s presence earlier that morning.

It wasn’t perfect vision. It wasn’t sight in the traditional sense. But it was enough.

Izuna drew his sword slowly, the familiar weight of the blade comforting in his hand. Despite his blindness, he had never stopped honing his swordsmanship, and his mastery of his weapon was second to none. With his heat vision active, he could track the movements of his clones through the warmth radiating from their bodies, predicting their actions even before they made a move.

“Let’s begin,” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the blood dripping down his face.

The clones responded instantly, launching themselves at Izuna from all directions. They moved swiftly, attacking in coordinated strikes, testing his reflexes and skill. Izuna parried the first blow with his sword, the clash of steel ringing through the air. He sidestepped the second attack, twisting his body to avoid a sweeping kick aimed at his ribs.

Despite the overwhelming pain in his head, Izuna remained in control. His heat vision, though painful, allowed him to see every movement his clones made in real time. He could sense the buildup of chakra in their limbs before they attacked, giving him the split-second advantage he needed to counter their strikes.

With a swift spin, Izuna deflected two kunai thrown at him from opposite directions and retaliated with a powerful slash, cutting through one of his clones in an instant. The clone dispersed into a puff of smoke, but the remaining ones were undeterred.

Izuna danced between them, his sword a blur of motion as he blocked and countered, each strike precise and calculated. The clones attacked relentlessly, using both taijutsu and ninjutsu, but Izuna never faltered. His training had made him stronger, faster, and more adaptable.

The ground beneath his feet cracked and splintered as they clashed, each movement more intense than the last. Sweat mixed with the blood still dripping from his eyes, but Izuna’s focus never wavered. He pushed through the pain, embracing it as a reminder that he was alive, that he was still fighting.

And fight he did.

Minutes turned into hours as the sparring session continued, each wave of clones more challenging than the last. But Izuna held his ground, cutting down his clones one by one until there was nothing left but silence.

He stood alone in the center of the training ground, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His hands were slick with sweat, and his clothes were torn from the intensity of the battle, but his expression remained calm.

Deactivating his heat vision, Izuna let out a slow exhale, feeling the tension in his body release. The pain in his head began to subside, though the blood still flowed freely from his eyes. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, not even bothering to check the damage. It didn’t matter.

He sheathed his sword and looked around, though he couldn’t see the destruction he had caused. The ground was scarred with deep slashes from his blade, and the surrounding trees bore the marks of intense battle. It had become a daily routine—pushing himself to his limits, training in secret, away from prying eyes.

Izuna knew that his handicap was no excuse for weakness. He had to be stronger, faster, and more resilient than anyone else. Blind or not, he couldn’t afford to fall behind.

He could never let his enemies know the extent of his abilities. The world thought him crippled, useless. But that was precisely how he wanted it. Just as Naruto played the fool in the academy, Izuna had to hide his true strength from those who would underestimate him.

The world may not have known his name, but when the time came, Izuna would make sure they remembered it.

Wiping the last of the blood from his face, Izuna turned and began the walk back to the apartment. His work was done for the day, but the training never truly stopped. Tomorrow, he would do it all over again.

After all, survival wasn’t just about being the strongest—it was about being prepared for anything. And Izuna was nothing if not prepared.

By noon, Izuna finished his intense training session, wiping away the last traces of sweat and blood from his face. His body ached from the sparring, but it was a familiar, almost welcome sensation. He had pushed himself hard, as he did every day, but now it was time to rest and refuel.

Izuna made his way back to the apartment he shared with Naruto, walking with practiced ease through the forest and the bustling streets of Konoha. Despite his blindness, he navigated through the village with no hesitation, his other senses guiding him. The noise of the streets—the chatter of villagers, the clattering of carts, and the distant laughter of children—was a constant hum in his ears. The familiar smells of the market, fresh produce, grilled meats, and the occasional whiff of street food stalls greeted him as he passed through.

Arriving at the apartment, he immediately noticed the faint but enticing scent of lunch that Naruto had prepared earlier in the morning. Naruto had taken his portion to the Academy, packed neatly in a bento box, while Izuna’s meal was stored in the kitchen, waiting for him.

Izuna took a seat at the small table and unwrapped his meal. It was simple but satisfying—rice, grilled vegetables from their rooftop garden, and a portion of meat from the last hunt Naruto had done. He smiled as he bit into a ripe tomato, his favorite. Naruto always made sure to include extra tomatoes in their meals, knowing how much Izuna enjoyed them.

After finishing lunch, Izuna felt the fatigue of his training settle in. The afternoon sun was blazing outside, the heat of the day at its peak. He closed the blinds of the small window and lay down on his futon, letting the warmth of the room lull him into a light rest. It wasn’t long before he dozed off, allowing his body to recover from the strain of the morning’s exercise.

Hours later, as the sun dipped slightly in the sky and the heat began to wane, Izuna stirred. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that the day had shifted—he could feel it in the air, sense the subtle drop in temperature, and hear the changing sounds of the village outside. Afternoon was turning into evening, and it was the perfect time for him to head out.

Stretching out his limbs, Izuna got up and prepared to venture back into the village. This part of his day was just as important as his training. While Naruto was busy at the Academy, Izuna spent his time gathering information, blending seamlessly into the background of Konoha. As a blind, one-handed man, most people ignored him or pitied him, assuming he was harmless. That was exactly how Izuna wanted it.

Walking the streets, Izuna often overheard conversations he wasn’t supposed to hear. Villagers and shinobi alike would talk freely around him, unaware of his sharp senses. Information was power, and Izuna collected it like a hobby. He stopped at various shops, exchanged pleasantries with store owners, and even shared a few words with acquaintances along the way.

One of his favorite stops was Ichiraku Ramen, where the owner, Teuchi, greeted him warmly. Izuna had built a good friendship with Teuchi over the years, often dropping by for a bowl of ramen or simply to chat. Teuchi never pried into Izuna’s life, never asked too many questions, which Izuna appreciated. The old man treated him with respect, and that was enough.

"Ah, Izuna-san! Out for your usual stroll?" Teuchi called out as Izuna approached the stall.

"Just stretching my legs, Teuchi-san," Izuna replied with a smile, his voice steady and calm.

"Good to see you. The usual?" Teuchi asked.

"Not today, but I'll be back soon," Izuna said with a nod before moving on, listening carefully to the conversations around him.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a similar fashion—Izuna explored the streets, visited tea shops, and gathered whatever information he could from the people around him. He moved unnoticed through the village, his presence barely acknowledged by those who passed him by. But Izuna was always listening, always watching in his own way.

For Izuna, the routine was a way of life—training in the morning, gathering information in the afternoon, and preparing for the future in secret. The village may have underestimated him, but that was exactly what he counted on.

Izuna knew the way to the Academy by heart. Though his blindness was a limitation in some aspects, it never truly hindered him. He had long since adapted, using his other senses to navigate Konoha with precision. Today, like most days, he was there to pick up Naruto when classes ended.

Izuna remembered the day when Naruto, with a hint of sadness in his voice, mentioned that everyone’s parents or siblings came to pick them up after class. “Even Sasuke gets picked up by his brother, Itachi,” Naruto had said. That small statement had struck a chord in Izuna. It reminded him that, despite Naruto’s outward strength and cheerful demeanor, the boy still craved the connection of family, a sense of belonging, someone who showed up for him. Izuna wasn’t Naruto’s father or brother, but he could be someone Naruto could rely on, someone to show the world that Naruto was not alone.

Since that day, Izuna made it a point to come to the Academy to pick him up. Naruto didn’t need Izuna to guide him home—he knew the way perfectly well—but the act of walking together made all the difference. Naruto always lit up with excitement when he saw Izuna waiting for him, rushing forward to take Izuna’s cane and guide him.

“Hey, hey, Izuna! Today was awesome! Iruka-sensei taught us about chakra theory, and I totally got it, even if no one believes me,” Naruto babbled excitedly as they left the Academy grounds, his small hand gripping Izuna’s as they walked together.

“I’m sure you did, Naruto,” Izuna replied calmly, his voice steady. “And if they don’t believe you, well, they’ll see eventually.”

Naruto grinned widely, pride filling his chest. He loved walking with Izuna through the streets of Konoha. It made him feel… normal, like he had someone in his life. When they passed other students, especially Kiba or the other kids who often teased Naruto, he would tighten his grip on Izuna’s hand, standing a little taller. He wanted everyone to know that he wasn’t alone, that he had someone who cared about him, someone who came to pick him up just like the others.

After leaving the Academy, their next stop was usually the park. Naruto always had a burst of energy after class, eager to run around and play with the other kids. Izuna would sit on one of the benches, his sharp senses keeping him aware of Naruto’s movements. The park was full of activity, and Naruto, with his boisterous personality, quickly became the center of attention among the kids. Even Sasuke, who had no intention of playing silly games, would sometimes begrudgingly join in when Naruto’s enthusiasm became contagious.

Izuna often found himself drinking tea from the nearby stand, one cup after another as the kids played. Teuchi from Ichiraku had even joked once, “You drink more tea than most shinobi drink sake, Izuna.” And Izuna had chuckled, appreciating the moments of quiet amidst the joyful noise of the children.

Sasuke’s older brother, Itachi, or occasionally Shisui, would come to pick Sasuke up once playtime was over. It was in these moments, while watching the two Uchiha brothers interact with each other, that Izuna reflected on how differently Naruto had grown up. But even then, Naruto was resilient, his determination to keep moving forward stronger than any of the obstacles placed in his path.

As evening fell and the sun dipped below the horizon, they made their way back home. Once they arrived, Izuna and Naruto would sit together to go over the day’s lessons. Naruto, though brilliant in practical skills like chakra control and physical exercises, struggled with theory. Izuna was patient, though, and Naruto appreciated his calm approach to teaching.

“Alright, Naruto,” Izuna said as they settled at the small table, Naruto's homework spread before them. “Let’s go over the sealing basics again. What are the five fundamental principles of Fuinjutsu?”

Naruto scratched his head, deep in thought. “Uh… containment, release, suppression… uh… reinforcement?”

Izuna nodded. “Good. And the last one?”

“Um… transference?” Naruto said hesitantly, peeking up at Izuna, who gave a small smile.

“Exactly. You’re getting it, Naruto. Just remember, Fuinjutsu isn’t about raw power. It’s about control. You need to understand the flow of chakra and how to guide it through the seal.”

Izuna’s years of studying Fuinjutsu came in handy. Though he didn’t speak of it often, he had used the Sharingan throughout his life to copy and memorize thousands of jutsu and scrolls. Even now, all that information remained crystal clear in his mind, and he imparted what he could to Naruto, knowing it would make the boy stronger in the future.

After homework, Izuna would often guide Naruto through more advanced concepts. Despite Naruto’s struggles in class, Izuna could see the potential within him. Naruto wasn’t just a loud-mouthed, energetic kid—he had a mind for strategy and a heart full of determination. It was important for people to underestimate him for now, to think of him as a fool. In time, they would see what Naruto was truly capable of.