Emperor of Mankind (Naruto X Marvel )

Hinata and Hanabi moved fluidly across the sparring grounds, their strikes sharp and precise, each blow a testament to years of training. The tension in the air was palpable as the elder sister clashed with her estranged younger sibling. Hanabi's strikes carried raw talent, honed under the tutelage of the clan's most skilled elders and even Hiashi himself. She was fast and relentless, her movements calculated and fierce.

But Hinata had evolved. She had endured years of harsh criticism, grueling training, and emotional hardships that forged her into the woman she was now. Her blows were deliberate, her stance unwavering, and her resilience unyielding. Beating Hanabi had not been easy in their first battle, and even now, Hinata had to harden her heart to maintain her edge against her sister's ferocity.

Naruto stood at the edge of the training grounds, his piercing eyes following every movement. The Gentle Fist was truly an art form—a style designed not for destruction but for precision, a way to incapacitate without unnecessary violence. As he watched, he couldn't help but imagine how the technique could complement his own abilities. He hated the idea of taking a life, preferring to subdue his enemies rather than destroy them. The Gentle Fist seemed like the perfect skill to add to his repertoire.

Finally, Hanabi faltered, taking a hit that sent her sprawling to the ground. She remained down for a moment, breathing heavily before nodding to Hinata, acknowledging her sister's victory. Hinata reached out a hand, pulling her younger sister to her feet. Their relationship had been strained for years, but moments like this were helping to bridge the gap.

As the spar concluded, Naruto decided it was time to speak. He stepped forward, his voice cutting through the quiet. "Hey, Hinata," he began, his tone direct and honest, as always. "Would your clan allow me to learn the Gentle Fist?"

Hinata turned to face him, her lavender eyes meeting his without hesitation. The shy girl she once was seemed like a distant memory. Meanwhile, Hanabi, wide-eyed and visibly nervous, ducked behind her sister, unsure how to approach her hero. Though she had idolized Naruto from afar, the reality of standing before him left her tongue-tied.

Hinata offered Naruto a small, genuine smile. "I'd have to ask my father. It's never been done before. The Gentle Fist is a closely guarded technique of the Hyuga clan. But… why do you want to learn it?"

Her question wasn't dismissive but curious. For anyone else, she might have refused outright, but Naruto was not just anyone. His words carried weight, and his intentions were always pure.

Naruto rubbed the back of his head, his expression thoughtful. "I have a lot of raw power," he admitted, "but I'm still lacking in finesse. I don't have any techniques to capture people without hurting them, and I don't want to rely on brute force all the time. The Gentle Fist seems perfect for that. I want to learn how to fight with more precision."

Hinata nodded, her respect for him deepening. Naruto could easily force the clan to teach him if he wanted—his influence and power were unmatched. But he chose to ask, respecting their traditions and boundaries. That humility was part of what made him special.

"I see," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Give me a moment to clean up, and we can go talk to my father."

Hinata excused herself, leaving Naruto alone with Hanabi. The younger girl peeked out from behind her sister's retreating form, her cheeks flushed as she struggled to find the courage to speak. Naruto glanced at her, offering a warm smile.

Naruto turned to Hanabi, a casual grin on his face as he greeted her. "Hello, it's been a long time since we last saw each other. You've really grown stronger since then... and softer," he added with a light chuckle, trying to ease the atmosphere.

His words immediately transported him back to their first encounter during the Chunin Exams. At the time, Hanabi had been a little girl, sharp-eyed and cold as ice. He distinctly remembered how she had looked at him with disdain, as though he were an insignificant insect buzzing around her family. That memory made Naruto chuckle inwardly. He had come a long way since those days.

Unlike Naruto, however, Hanabi had no recollection of their initial meeting. Back then, Naruto had been nothing more than an irrelevant figure to her—an outsider with no standing, no achievements, and no presence worth remembering. But the Naruto who stood before her now was an entirely different person.

As Hanabi grew older, she became aware of his incredible feats. First, the seemingly impossible tale of him defeating the Shukaku during the Suna invasion reached her ears. At the time, she had dismissed it as exaggerated nonsense. But then came the Pain Invasion, where he singlehandedly saved Konoha from destruction. That, paired with his legendary role in the Fourth Great Ninja War, turned those impossible tales into undeniable truths.

To Hanabi, Naruto wasn't just a ninja anymore. He was power incarnate—a living, breathing legend. His strength was the kind of thing one only heard about in fairy tales, the kind of power that her logical, no-nonsense upbringing had always dismissed as mere fantasy. But Naruto's achievements made her question everything she thought she knew.

Perhaps the stories she had grown up ignoring—the ones about immortals, mythical figures, and untouchable warriors—weren't just the dreams of foolish children. Perhaps they contained some truth, and perhaps their generations had been too short-sighted to see it.

Her gaze lingered on him, taking in every detail. Despite standing there as an ordinary human, she couldn't separate the image of his golden, otherworldly form from the memory of what he had become during the war. In her mind, he wasn't just a man anymore. He was a figure out of legend, shrouded in a halo that made it impossible for her to see him as anything but extraordinary.

The sheer weight of his presence overwhelmed her. Her idol was right in front of her, speaking casually as if they were equals, and Hanabi found herself stumbling over her words. Her tongue felt tied, and she struggled to string a coherent sentence together.

Before she could completely humiliate herself, Hanabi did the only thing her frazzled mind could think of—she turned on her heel and bolted, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "How embarrassing! I hope he doesn't remember this encounter," she thought as she rushed away, hiding her burning face.

Naruto watched her retreat with a puzzled expression. He scratched his head, confused by her reaction. "Huh… I guess she's become shy like Hinata," he mused aloud, shrugging it off.

It hadn't fully dawned on him yet just how much the world—and the people within it—had come to revere him. He still thought of himself as the same knuckleheaded ninja who had to fight for every ounce of recognition. The idea that he had become an untouchable figure in the eyes of many, someone idolized and seen as more than human, was something he had yet to comprehend.

Naruto turned his attention back to the training grounds, waiting for Hinata to return. Hanabi's reaction might have confused him, but in his mind, she was still the same headstrong and fierce younger sister of his friend. Little did he realize just how deeply his existence had shaken her view of the world—and how profoundly he had inspired her.

While waiting for Hinata to return, Naruto couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity about his newfound powers. His mind was racing, and rather than sit still, he decided to experiment. He wanted to master his abilities and understand them more thoroughly. His chakra was vast and ever-growing, and he now had the Six Paths abilities and the Rinnegan to play with. It was a strange mix of power that he was still learning to control, and he wanted to push it to its limits.

He had watched the sparring match between Hinata and Hanabi, observing their movements closely, feeling their chakra flow as it pulsed through the air. It was an intricate dance of strikes, evasions, and counterattacks—fluid and deliberate. Naruto had always been good at mimicking techniques, but this time it felt different. His Sharingan was active, its crimson eye swirling and copying every step, every movement, every gesture. The pattern of chakra, the precise shifts in stance—all of it registered in his mind.

With his enhanced sensory perception, Naruto found the steps easy to replicate. His chakra control was flawless, and with the power of the Six Paths and Rinnegan, executing the Gentle Fist techniques became effortless, almost like breathing. He felt the flow of the battle, internalizing the techniques as if they were his own. The clone he created mimicked the sisters' movements perfectly, replicating the fight step by step. Lost in the flow of his own experimentation, Naruto continued, unaware of his surroundings, consumed by his need to master this new aspect of his power.

Hinata returned to the scene, and her heart skipped when she saw what Naruto was doing. There he was—effortlessly replicating the Hyuga style, the techniques that were so personal to her, that she had worked so hard to perfect over the years. Watching him execute them with such ease made her heart swell with both pride and sorrow. It was as if he had taken something that was uniquely hers and made it his own without even asking for permission.

The sadness that crept in was unexpected. She had planned to teach him, to spend time with him and share something that was part of her life. But now, that moment of mentorship seemed irrelevant. He had taken it all from her without even realizing it. The feeling of losing her place, of being pushed aside, threatened to swallow her whole. But Hinata wasn't one to give in to negativity. She shook off the overwhelming emotions, her resolve firming up again.

"No, I won't give up," she muttered to herself. Stepping forward, she greeted Naruto with a cheerful smile, forcing her conflicted emotions into a tight box. "Naruto, we can go meet Father now."

Naruto snapped out of his reverie when he heard her voice, and with a slight frown, he realized that he had been lost in his thoughts—and his actions. He had replicated their techniques, without even thinking about the consequences. He popped the clone with a heart blow, realizing the gravity of his actions. He had just copied the Hyuga's sacred style without asking for permission, something he had never intended to do.

"I'm sorry, Hinata. I didn't mean to take your techniques like that. I just got caught up in exploring my powers," Naruto said, his tone apologetic. The last thing he wanted was to overstep his bounds. "I promise I won't use the techniques again without your clan's permission."

Hinata's response was immediate and warm. She saw the sincerity in his eyes and understood that his actions had been born out of curiosity rather than disrespect. "I trust you, Naruto," she said, her voice reassuring. "Father will definitely give you permission. Don't worry about it."

Naruto smiled, feeling the weight lift off his chest. He had always appreciated Hinata's unwavering support, and her trust meant more than she could know. "Thanks for believing in me, Hinata," he said, offering her a grin. "And I owe you one, so don't hesitate to ask me for anything." He extended his fist toward her for a fist bump, the same gesture he had learned to share with his friends.

Hinata was momentarily confused by the gesture, not quite understanding it. She hesitated for a moment before awkwardly grasping his fist and shaking it gently.

"No, no, you've got to make a fist and bump it with mine," Naruto clarified, laughing lightly.

"Oh…" Hinata blinked in realization, then mimicked his motion, gently bumping her fist against his. The small gesture, simple as it was, made her heart flutter with happiness. It was something unexpected and yet so endearing in its own way.

For a brief moment, Naruto's cheerful smile faded as he thought back to his promise to bring Sasuke back. He muttered to himself, his voice tinged with regret, "I never go back on my words…"

Hinata's keen observation didn't miss the change in his mood. She knew how important Sasuke was to him, how deeply Naruto had felt the loss. She was no stranger to the pain of promises that couldn't be kept. She knew that Sasuke was the reason for much of Naruto's inner turmoil, especially since their bond had been so deeply intertwined.

Naruto's internal sadness seemed to threaten to spill over, and Hinata didn't want to let it consume him. She quickly snapped him out of his reverie, eager to keep his spirits up. "Let's go, we shouldn't keep Father waiting."

Her voice was gentle but firm, guiding him away from the dark thoughts that threatened to drag him down.