Dream Maker of the Hokage!

Hiruzen Sarutobi's smile slowly faded as he heard those words, replaced by a heavy seriousness.

He nodded slowly.

—Yes... I may have found a clue.

As he spoke, he set down the crystal ball in his hands and straightened up.

—These past few days, I've combed through every ancient scroll and secret text in the village archives, trying to uncover the truth behind that strange phenomenon you mentioned... And I finally found a passage that matches.

Kakashi held his breath, listening intently.

Hiruzen's tone deepened.

—According to the old records, there was once a forbidden technique—long lost to time—that allowed the user to enter another person's dream. Within that dream, they could manipulate the target's mind, extract secrets, or even... take their life.

But then his brow furrowed tightly.

—The catch, according to the texts, is that this jutsu feeds on the target's chakra. Each time they're forced into the dreamscape, a portion of their life force is drained away.

Even someone like Kakashi, seasoned as he was, felt a cold chill rise in his spine.

—A jutsu like that actually existed...?

His voice was low.

—Then if Naruto keeps falling into those dreams... he could be getting drained every single time, until...

—Until his life is completely exhausted, yes. That's the theory.

Hiruzen gave a slow nod.

—But don't panic just yet, Kakashi. What I'm telling you is based on a myth from centuries ago. There's no way to be sure it's even real, let alone that it's what's happening to Naruto now. This kind of jutsu should've been lost to history. For all we know, what's affecting Naruto might be something entirely different.

He raised a hand, trying to calm Kakashi's nerves.

—That's why I wanted to ask you—has Naruto shown any abnormal signs lately? Sudden fatigue, unstable chakra, anything?

Kakashi paused to think, then answered with utmost seriousness.

—No. As far as I can tell, Naruto's been completely normal. His chakra levels are steady, and there's been no change in his behavior.

Hiruzen let out a soft breath, visibly relieved.

—That's good, then.

Kakashi gave a small nod, tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

But the moment didn't last.

Hiruzen narrowed his eyes with a pointed look.

—By the way, Kakashi... I've noticed something. Naruto seems to be practicing the Rasengan lately.

Kakashi's pupils shrank in shock.

—W-What...?

Hiruzen calmly brought his pipe to his lips, took a slow drag, then exhaled, smoke curling upward as his cloudy yet sharp eyes locked on Kakashi.

—It's a jutsu developed by the Fourth Hokage. Don't you think... it's a bit early for you to be teaching him that?

Kakashi didn't know if the old man was testing him... or if he'd simply observed something and wanted clarity. Either way, the pressure was palpable.

—I... Hokage-sama...

His voice trailed off. He didn't know what to say. He hadn't taught Naruto the Rasengan. But the boy knew it, somehow.

If he didn't explain everything now, Hiruzen would only grow more suspicious.

So Kakashi took a breath and steeled himself.

—This has to do with the dream.

—Oh?

A glint of interest sparked in Hiruzen's eyes.

—What about it?

Kakashi stood tall, his voice grave.

—Naruto didn't learn the Rasengan from me. He learned it from... the Fourth Hokage himself.

Hiruzen's hand trembled, and he nearly dropped his pipe.

His eyes widened in disbelief.

—Who? The Fourth...? Minato?

Kakashi nodded firmly.

—Yes. My teacher. Minato-sensei. He taught Naruto in the dream.

For a moment, the entire office went silent.

Hiruzen stared at his subordinate—his ever-composed, rational, grounded subordinate—as if trying to see whether he was joking or had gone mad.

He frowned deeply.

—Kakashi... are you sure this isn't some genjutsu messing with your memories? Minato has been gone for years.

Kakashi gave a bitter chuckle.

—I wish it were that simple, sir. But I'm perfectly clearheaded. That's why this is so serious.

—Naruto learned the Rasengan, not in the waking world, but within that strange dream. And the person guiding him through it... was the Fourth Hokage.

He then relayed everything—every detail of the recent dreams: the shifting roles, how Naruto wasn't the dreamer last night but merely a bystander while Sasuke entered instead. The pattern, the mystery, the uncanny consistency.

Hiruzen listened in silence, the shock on his face growing with each passing word.

Meanwhile...

After Kakashi left, Naruto trudged home with a gloomy expression.

The moment he opened the door, a sour stench greeted him.

Used ramen cups littered the dining table, milk cartons were piled in a messy heap in the corner, and the bed looked like a battlefield—blankets twisted into a useless knot and tossed aside.

"Ugh..." Naruto wrinkled his nose.

Only now did he realize how long it had been since he cleaned up.

His mind couldn't help but drift back to the dream from the night before. That warm, tidy home...

The spotless floor. The perfectly arranged furniture. The crisp, clean sheets in the bedroom...

The contrast hit him hard. The chaos of his real home now felt suffocating.

"If only things could be like the dream..." he muttered, a half-hearted smile tugging at his lips.

But the smile didn't last.

He sat down and stared at the mess around him.

No one else was going to fix it. If he wanted that dreamlike warmth... he'd have to create it himself.

—Alright... guess I'll start with cleaning up.

He slapped his cheeks lightly to pump himself up.

And then, without wasting another second, he got to work.

Naruto rolled up his sleeves and began tidying the room from top to bottom. He picked up the trash, emptied the old ramen bowls, washed the dishes, and wiped down every dusty surface he could find.

The floor got mopped. The air began to clear. Slowly, order returned to the little apartment.

"Phew... finally!"

By the time Naruto lowered his broom, the entire space looked brand new.

The smell was gone. The clutter had vanished. The place wasn't perfect—but it was his, and it finally felt livable.

Still riding that sense of accomplishment, Naruto got an idea.

He began shifting furniture—pushing the bed to the window, moving the lamp to the right-hand cabinet...

He stepped back and squinted at the new layout.

Yeah... now it kind of looked like the bedroom from his dream.

And with that, he flopped onto the bed, arms behind his head, staring up at the aging ceiling with a soft grin.

—Heh... gotta admit, this feels way better.

He thought for a moment.

If his mom were here... if she saw this room cleaned up like that—would she smile?

The thought brought a warmth to his chest.

—I wish... she really was here...

His grin faded slightly.

But he didn't let it slip away.

Not entirely.