Author's Note:
Starting now, I'll be posting advanced chapters Inevitable over on Patreon at banmido ! If you want to stay ahead of the curve, that's the place.
___
He stepped back from the window.
One breath in.
One breath out.
The hiss of ramen behind him filled the kitchen, sharp and bubbling, the water just beginning to overboil. It smelled burnt. A lost cause.
Naruto didn't turn.
Outside, smoke twisted into the sky in thick black strands, darkening the horizon like ink poured into bathwater. It rose from downtown, spreading wide and high enough to catch the last bit of sunlight and smear it blood-orange.
Naruto squinted toward the skyline.
Something streaked past the edge of a building. Fast. Clumsy.
Blue and black suit. Yellow gloves. No cape, but the posture still screamed "look at me."
Mark Grayson.
Or as the media had started calling him… Invincible.
Naruto made a sound low in his throat. Not quite a laugh.
More like a tired snort.
Mark zigzagged through the air like a bird that had never learned what flying was supposed to feel like. Too fast into turns. Too slow on the lift. His arms flailed slightly as he adjusted mid-flight.
And his punches.. Naruto watched them all land in desperation. No weight. No rhythm. Just the kind of swinging you did when you really wanted something to work and had no backup plan if it didn't.
Below him, the thing he was fighting didn't even budge.
It wasn't alien.
Not Viltrumite.
It was worse.
Human-made tech.
Eight feet tall. All steel, rust, and death. Its armor was crude but thick, overlapping slabs of industrial plating welded together like it had been built in secret by someone with too much time and no moral compass.
The arms were an insult to engineering: saws, pneumatic claws, rotating cannons built to kill, not to function.
And it moved like it wanted to be seen in the chaos
Mark came back in for another swing. He shouted something heroic. Naruto couldn't hear it, and didn't care.
Mark's fist struck the mech's chestplate.
A sharp clang rang out.
It sounded like a bell. Not one that said "I hurt you" one that said "try again."
The mech grabbed him out of the air before he could pull back. One massive claw around his waist. And slammed him.
Hard.
Into the side of a car. The vehicle caved in instantly. The mech didn't let go.
It slammed him again.
And then again straight into the asphalt, like it was driving a stake through the pavement.
Mark let out a grunt that was swallowed by the chaos.
Naruto sighed.
"How embarrassing."
He didn't move yet.
Just stood there, hands in his pockets, leaning slightly against the window frame like he'd seen this all before. Like he already knew how it would end. Another overconfident hero charging in with more guts than skill. The same pattern, different city.
The mech reeled back for another blow. Dust swirled through the street like storm clouds made of grit and glass.
Naruto stayed still.
He closed his eyes.
Just for a second.
"Yo."
The memory came uninvited.
That voice. Familiar. Annoyingly warm.
He saw it again. Rows of desks. The smell of cheap pencils and old carpet. And the kid who'd slid into the seat next to him like they'd been friends in a past life.
Dark hair. Kind eyes. A smile that didn't ask for anything.
"I'm Mark. Mark Grayson. Are you new around here?"
Naruto remembered blinking once. Nodding. "Just moved."
No hesitation. No small talk. And still, Mark had offered his hand.
"If you need help finding classes or whatever, I got you."
It had caught Naruto off-guard. Not the offer, plenty of people had offered things before. But the tone.
Like he actually meant it.
Back in the present, Naruto opened his eyes again.
The mech was stomping forward, its joints howling with heat. Mark coughed in the crater where he'd landed, trying to push himself up, blood smearing down the side of his jaw.
Naruto sighed again. Longer this time. He rubbed the back of his neck.
"…Tch."
He rolled his shoulders. Something ancient stirred with the motion. Quiet. Heavy.
He didn't want to do this.
But there were worse things than getting involved.
Like owing someone a debt.
He slid the window open.
The night air rushed in, hot with smoke.
And Naruto stepped off the ledge.
Not because he wanted to be a hero.
Because someone once offered him help without asking why.
He hovered effortlessly in the air.
The glow on his skin was faint, but present and tracing under his veins like golden ink, flickering across his arms and throat like power trying not to draw attention to itself.
Then he moved.
Not with a bang. Not with a sonic boom.
Just a soundless blur, barely louder than breath.
A fwoosh.
He was gone before the open window had time to let in the wind. A golden streak slipped through the sky like a blade through silk.
Back inside, the ramen boiled over. Unwatched and uncared for.
Dinner would have to wait.
Again.
He hit the mech in the side, shoulder first. It didn't move.
Mark followed up with a flurry of punches. Fast. Focused. Fists hammering into steel.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The mech staggered for a second under Mark's last punch. Just a moment. Its heavy frame leaned back like it had finally felt something.
Then it lashed out.
A piston-arm snapped forward with brutal speed and caught Mark square in the ribs. The hit sounded like a steel bat colliding with wet meat. Mark flew. Not drifted, not stumbled. Flew.
He slammed into the hood of a yellow taxi with a crunch, bounced off it awkwardly, then sailed through the front window of a bakery. Glass shattered. He landed face-first in a storm of flour and broken display cases, sending clouds of white dust billowing into the air.
Across the street, several civilians screamed and ducked behind a news van.
High above the air Naruto stood with his arms folded. The wind from the chaos below tugged gently at his orange and black hoodie, making the fabric ripple. His expression didn't change.
He watched as the mech stomped forward, the plating on its arms re-aligning with mechanical screeches. Watched as it scanned for its next target.
Mark coughed into his palm and tried to get up.
Naruto exhaled through his nose, sharp and short.
"This is pathetic."
The air around him shifted.
He didn't fall so much as descend, accelerating faster than he should have. Faster than physics wanted him to. He hit the pavement in silence, knees slightly bent, hands in his hoodie pockets..
Cracks spiderwebbed out beneath his shoes despite his graceful landing.
The mech paused mid-step. Its sensors turned.
It scanned Naruto.
"IDENTITY UNKNOWN, THREAT UNKNOWN." it said.
It raised a cannon anyway.
Naruto didn't blink.
The cannon fired.
A streak of plasma screamed through the air and slammed into his chest in a brilliant explosion of light and sound. The blast threw a car into the air and set a nearby streetlamp on fire. Glass shattered in all directions. Flames bloomed across storefronts.
Smoke choked the block.
When it cleared, Naruto stood in the same place.
Unmoved.
One sleeve of his hoodie had been burned away. Steam drifted off him in slow coils. His skin shimmered faintly where the fire had kissed it, golden lines glowing underneath like magma traced through stone.
He stared up at the mech.
It reeled back, confused.
Naruto stepped forward.
Then punched.
His fist connected with the mech's chest plate and sank in deep. A sound like a steel drum being split in half echoed through the street. The force of the blow tore through the machine's core and launched it backward. It crashed into the pavement with a thunderous boom, skidding down the block and crushing three parked cars like soda cans.
Mark pulled himself up from behind a shattered bakery counter, his face white with flour and disbelief. He leaned against the wall, blood running down his temple, eyes wide as he looked toward the street.
And saw him.
"…What," he breathed. "That's… Naruto?"
The mech wasn't done.
Somehow, it climbed to its feet again, jerking and limping, coolant leaking from its sides. Its armor glowed from internal heat. Its systems screamed in protest. Sparks shot from its joints. But it moved anyway.
It screamed an ugly digital screech and spun up its remaining weapons. A saw blade hissed to life and snapped into place. One remaining claw flexed open and closed like a reflex.
Naruto didn't flinch.
The mech charged.
The blade came swinging.
Naruto raised his hand and caught it mid-spin.
The saw shrieked, chewing uselessly against his palm.
Then it folded in on itself with a metallic groan. He crushed the blade with one hand, dropped the remains onto the pavement, and stepped in close.
His knee slammed into the mech's gut.
Metal crumpled inward like foil.
The mech staggered.
Naruto ducked a claw, stepped to the side, and tore the arm off with one motion. Then drove the jagged piece through its back with a sharp, effortless jab.
Mark watched from the sidewalk, barely breathing.
"That guy eats lunch alone," he whispered. "He asked where the vending machines were. What the hell is this…"
The mech began to whine. A soft, rising pitch. Its chest glowed red.
Self-destruct.
Naruto noticed. But he didn't move.
Mark stumbled forward, his voice rough. "Wait, Naruto! It's gonna blow. You have to move!"
Too late.
The mech's core flashed.
The explosion was immediate.
A blast of heat and pressure rolled down the street like the punch of a dying star. Storefronts shattered. Concrete peeled off the street like paper. Cars were flipped. Lights went out across three blocks.
Then silence.
And smoke.
Thick, suffocating smoke.
From the center of the blast, a figure emerged.
Naruto.
Still standing.
Ash clung to his hair. Sparks drifted off his arms. His hoodie was nearly gone, scorched to the seams, hanging off him like wet cloth.
He looked down at the wreckage of the mech.
Then at what was left of his hoodie.
"...Tch."
He turned.
Behind him, Mark stumbled out of the bakery, limping, eyes wide and wild.
"Dude," he called out, coughing. "Naruto. What the hell was that?"
Naruto didn't respond.
He just kept walking, footsteps slow but steady, the soles of his shoes crunching over broken glass and bits of scorched metal. The smoke from the explosion still curled around his shoulders like steam, glowing faintly in the fading light.
Mark stared at his back, heart pounding, ribs aching, brain still trying to piece together what he'd just witnessed.
"I just saw you take a plasma shot to the chest," Mark said, voice still catching. "You crushed that thing. You caught a saw blade. With your hand."
His words hung in the air like they were trying to catch up to reality.
Naruto said nothing.
Mark stepped forward. "You're not just some regular kid."
Still nothing.
"Are you… like me?"
That finally earned him a look.
Naruto turned his head slightly, just enough for the city lights to catch the edge of his profile. His expression was unreadable. Not cold. Not angry. Just... tired.
Mark pushed on. "You're a Viltrumite, right? You have to be. No one else could've taken that hit."
Naruto stopped walking.
For a moment, the sounds of the street filtered back in. Sirens. Distant shouting. The low whine of a news drone hovering a few blocks away.
Then Naruto spoke.
"I'm not like you."
Mark blinked. "What does that mean?"
Naruto turned to face him fully now. His eyes were steady. Calm. The kind of calm that came from living through something far worse than a robot with a cannon.
"You hit like a girly PE coach."
Mark recoiled slightly. "Okay. Wow. Rude."
"I'm serious."
Mark frowned. "I'm literally bleeding from my everything. I just fought that thing for twenty minutes."
"Didn't look like a fight," Naruto replied. "Looked like it was bored thrashing you."
Mark opened his mouth. Then closed it.
Naruto's gaze lingered for a second longer, then he turned again, walking off into the haze of smoke and red emergency lights. His burned hoodie flapped gently with every step.
Mark stood frozen in the middle of the street, bruised and breathing heavy, watching the quiet kid from homeroom stroll away like he'd just finished grocery shopping.
"You could've at least told me you were built like a tank," he muttered under his breath.
Naruto's voice came back, lazy and flat, drifting through the smoke without him turning around.
"I just wanted to eat my ramen dinner."
Then he disappeared into the wreckage of the city, leaving Mark speechless, sore, and very, very confused.
The lights were low, the temperature colder than necessary, and the walls thick enough to survive a small war.
Cecil Stedman stood in front of a wall of monitors, arms crossed, jaw tight. The footage played in silence. One angle after another. Smoke. Fire. A kid in a burned-out hoodie stepping out of a crater like it was nothing.
Donald stood beside him with a tablet, scrolling through lines of data.
They watched the mech fire its cannon. They watched the blast hit Naruto head-on. And they watched Naruto keep walking, completely unbothered.
"Still think he's just some lost transfer student?" Donald asked.
Cecil didn't respond. He scratched at his stubble and kept watching.
The footage looped again. Naruto tearing through the mech. No hesitation. No wasted movement. It was fast. Surgical. And almost lazy.
Donald tapped the screen.
"Energy signatures were off the charts. We ran it through everything. Not Viltrumite. Not Martian. Nothing we've seen before."
"He wearing a suit?" Cecil asked.
"Nope."
"Weapon?"
Donald shook his head. "Just his fists."
The clip paused on a frame. Naruto's face lit by fire, hoodie in tatters. He looked like someone who had just been inconvenienced, not attacked.
Cecil narrowed his eyes.
"Name?"
"Uzumaki. Naruto. Registered at Reginald Vel Johnson High a week ago. Transferred in with forged paperwork and zero digital trail. No guardian. No contact number. Just showed up."
"How long has he been on Earth?"
"Six months, as far as we can tell. We only caught him now because of the mech incident. Before this, he kept his head down."
Cecil rubbed his temples.
"So we've got a ticking time bomb enrolled in the same school as Mark Grayson, and we didn't see him coming."
"Not until now."
"What do we have on him?"
Donald scrolled again. "He doesn't talk. Keeps to himself. Teachers say he's respectful, quiet, a little weird. No history of violence. No social media."
Cecil grunted. "Kid takes out a military-grade weapons death machine without breaking a sweat, and his biggest offense is being quiet in class."
On the screen, Naruto turned and walked into the smoke.
Donald raised an eyebrow. "You want me to send someone?"
Cecil stared for a beat longer.
"No. Keep surveillance running. Satellite, drone, audio if possible. No contact. Not yet."
Donald hesitated.
"If he's this powerful.."
"Then the last thing we want to do is put a target on his back or ours. Let him think we haven't noticed. Let him stay quiet."
He nodded once.
"And pray he wants to stay that way."
Author's Note:
Starting now, I'll be posting advanced chapters Inevitable over on P*treon at banmido dot com! If you want to stay ahead of the curve, that's the place.