(PU) TRUTHS

The gym was quiet in the late afternoon, lit only by weak bands of orange sunlight slanting through the high windows. The usual sounds of Wi

The gym was quiet in the late afternoon, lit only by weak bands of orange sunlight slanting through the high windows. The usual sounds of Winslow—shouting students, slamming lockers, and the distant pounding of footsteps—had faded, leaving only silence and the soft rustle of movement.

Naruto was finishing up for the day, long after the rest of the students had left, stacking mats with one hand while slurping noisily from a steaming cup of instant ramen in the other. The scent of miso broth and noodles hung faintly to the gym’s still air, oddly comforting amid the gym’s more familiar smells of chalk and sweat. He didn’t seem rushed. If anything, he moved like a man perfectly content in his own world. Completely at ease. 

Sophia Hess stepped out from behind the bleachers without a word. And like expected, he didn’t startle or seem surprised by her sudden appearance. But glanced her way over his shoulder, a noodle still half in his mouth, and grinned.

“Knew you were there,” he said, swallowing. “You always move like you’re trying to intimidate people, not sneak up on them.”

“I wasn’t trying to sneak,” she shot back, folding her arms.

“Good,” he said easily, tossing a mat down with a soft thump. “Because you’re terrible at hiding your killing intent.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not trying to kill you.” Her voice was flat, almost insulted.

“Didn’t say you were. But that doesn't mean it’s not there.”

She stiffened. “What does that even mean?”

Naruto looked at her then, with something unreadable behind those deceptively lazy eyes. “It means you walk like someone ready for a fight. Every second, you breathe like it. You look at people like you’re measuring how much of a threat they are, and how fast you can bring them down if they blink wrong.”

Sophia crossed her arms, defensive now. Not just in posture, but deeper, in the bone-deep way someone shielded the last piece of themselves.

“It’s not killing intent,” she muttered. “It’s just… being ready.”

Naruto simply smiled wider, crushed his ramen cup with one hand, and without looking, lobbed it toward the trash bin near the exit. It landed with a clean thunk, dead center.

Sophia didn’t speak for a moment. Her fingers curled tighter around her arms, and her foot tapped once against the floor. She still wasn’t used to how she felt around him. Not afraid, not exactly, but exposed and off-balance. She didn’t like not knowing where she stood. With most people, she could pin them down in seconds: weak, strong, predator, prey. But Naruto?

Naruto didn’t fit into any of her categories.

“You’re not normal,” she said finally.

“Never claimed to be.”

“You’re not a cape, either. I checked.” Her voice sharpened with the confidence of someone that knew the truth. “The PRT doesn’t have you in their registry, and I doubt you are a common villain. What are you?”

Naruto wiped his hands on his pants, then leaned back against the bleachers, arms crossed lazily behind his head.

“Wow,” he said, impressed. “You’re like a mini-intelligence division all by yourself. Should I be flattered or concerned?”

She scowled. “You’re avoiding the question.” Then, she stepped forward. And when next she spoke, her voice was low and intense as she repeated herself. “What are you?” 

Naruto was quiet for a moment as he considered her. Then he gave that same damn grin, but though there was humor in his voice, there wasn't enough to hide the edge beneath.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m not from around here?”

She gave him a flat look.

“Not this city,” he clarified. “Not this country. Not even this world, actually.”

Any other student might’ve laughed it off. Any teacher would’ve assumed it was a joke. But Sophia Hess wasn’t stupid.

Despite what most people assumed about jocks, she’d always tested near the top of her class. She paid attention, she read between the lines, and this wasn’t some elaborate metaphor. Not some ‘I’m just a foreigner’ nonsense.

Naruto wasn’t joking. He was telling the truth. He wasn’t from Earth Bet.

That realization settled into her gut like a stone. Everything—his odd way of speaking, his lack of care about anything but the students, the way even her instincts as a cape recoiled slightly in his presence—it all made sense now. Or at least, more sense than it had a minute ago.

“So?” she asked after a long pause, trying to sound unfazed. “Why here? Why Winslow? You have a thing for kids?”

Naruto raised an eyebrow at her words, but ultimately shrugged. “I go where I’m needed.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I’ve got for now.”

Her fists clenched. “You think I’ll just ignore this? That I won’t tell anyone?”

Naruto’s eyes didn’t waver. “You could, but you won’t.”

“Why not?”

He studied her again, the joking demeanor fading slightly. “Because you already know I’m not your enemy.” He said it without arrogance. Just certainty. 

“Let me repeat something I've told you before,” he continued. “You’re not the first person I’ve met who thought pain and rage were the same thing as strength.”

“And I told you I don’t need your therapy,” she bit out.

“Didn’t say you did,” he replied. “But you deserve better than the direction you are heading in.”

She stared at him.

“I know what it’s like to grow up fighting the world,” he said, voice gentler now. “To be hated, feared, and ignored. I know what it’s like to feel like the only way to matter is to hit harder. But that’s not strength. That’s desperation.”

She still didn't say anything. Her jaw was clenched so tightly it hurt because, as usual, his words struck deeper than she wanted to admit.

She hated that. Hated him for seeing through her. Hated herself for letting it get to her.

“I’m giving you a choice,” Naruto continued. “You can keep doing things your way. Stay a lone wolf. Burn hot and fast. Or…”

He paused.

“Or you can learn. How to fight smarter. Better. Without letting the anger eat you alive.”

Sophia looked down at her hands. At the thin red marks from where her nails had dug into her palms without her noticing. Then she turned away, walking to the doors slowly.

But halfway there, she stopped.

“When’s the class?” she asked, not turning around.

She didn’t see him smile, but she just knew. 

“I’ll be hosting a private session next week. I’ll inform the lucky few.”

She nodded once, then kept walking.

He watched her go, then turned back to folding mats with a hum on his lips.