As Jean led Rogue through the halls of Xavier's Institute, the other students couldn't help but glance in their direction. Some were subtle, others less so, their eyes filled with curiosity rather than malice. It was a stark contrast to what Rogue had grown accustomed to—no whispers of fear, no disgusted glances, no one recoiling from her presence. Still, she remained guarded.
"How do you feel about this?" Jean asked, keeping her tone light as they walked past a group of younger students practicing their abilities under Storm's watchful eye.
"I don't know," Rogue admitted, arms crossed as she took in her surroundings. "This is all new, but it won't really change the fact that I can't touch people, so I guess it'll end up the same."
Jean noted the frustration laced in Rogue's voice. She didn't push, knowing full well that words alone wouldn't change Rogue's mind. Pessimism had a tight grip on her, and only actions—real, tangible change—would convince her otherwise.
"I won't say everything will be fine overnight," Jean said gently, "but at least here, no one will judge you for your power. It's an inborn gift, just like everyone else's."
Rogue let out a small huff, but the corners of her lips twitched slightly. "Thanks. I'll try not to be so anti-social, but don't expect me to be a social butterfly either."
Jean smiled. "I won't hold my breath."
As Rogue walked, she became more aware of the emotions around her. She could feel their curiosity, but there was no underlying fear or revulsion. These kids had been through discrimination themselves. They wouldn't turn into the same tormentors that had cast them aside.
'They get it,' Rogue thought, allowing herself the smallest bit of relief.
After a moment of silence, Jean spoke again. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you meet him?"
"He just appeared," Rogue said vaguely. "And then I met you guys."
Jean frowned slightly at the evasive answer. "Do you trust him?"
Rogue nodded without hesitation. "I do. He has no use for me."
Jean raised an eyebrow. "Why would you think that?"
"It's personal." Rogue's voice turned distant, her mind flashing to the fragments of Naruto's memories she had once glimpsed but no longer possessed. It had been brief, but it had been enough. She had seen his nature, his burdens, and his kindness. She knew he wasn't someone who would manipulate or use her. He wasn't like the others.
Sensing the shift in mood, Jean let it go. Instead, she gestured toward a nearby corner where a blue-skinned figure had just teleported in, only to immediately vanish again the moment Naruto's eyes had landed on him.
"Kurt," Jean called out, glancing around the ceiling where she knew he'd reappear. "The new recruit wants to talk to you."
A faint bamf echoed through the air, accompanied by the signature scent of brimstone, before Kurt Wagner—Nightcrawler—materialized upside down on a ceiling beam. His golden eyes blinked down at them with curiosity, though there was a trace of unease.
Jean smirked. "Something wrong?"
Kurt rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Ah... no, no. Just—your friend's gaze is... intense."
Rogue raised an eyebrow. "What, you scared of him?"
Kurt let out a nervous chuckle. "Not scared... just cautious. He looked at me like he could see everything I am, inside and out. It was... unsettling."
Jean and Rogue exchanged glances.
"That sounds about right," Jean murmured, thinking back to Naruto's piercing gaze. He was the type of man who saw far beyond the surface—whether you liked it or not.
Naruto leaned back into the plush sofa like he owned the place, his golden hair catching the soft glow of the sunlight filtering through the window. His posture was relaxed, but his gaze was anything but. It was the look of a man who had seen too much, done too much, and carried the weight of it all without letting it crush him.
"Not many of your kind here," Naruto mused, his voice carrying the casual tone of an observation rather than a critique. "Do you want me to round them up for you?"
Charles Xavier, seated across from him, remained composed. It was an absurd statement, but the ease with which Naruto said it made it clear that it wasn't a joke. Still, Charles chose not to engage with the bait. He had dealt with many strong-willed individuals before—Wolverine, Magneto, even Jean on her worst days. Naruto was different, but the game remained the same.
Instead, he studied the man before him. 'He certainly isn't a bad person, and his manners suggest someone of great importance. But despite his friendly demeanor, I can see glimpses of something else beneath the surface.'
Naruto smirked, sensing Charles' thoughts without even needing telepathy. "People have called me many things, Charles—Monster, Demon, Abomination, Hero, Savior, Chosen One, Lord Sixth, Emperor of Mankind, and finally, the Immortal Emperor. What do you want to call me?"
His tone was light, even playful, but Charles could tell there was weight behind those words. He hadn't just been given these titles—he had earned them, whether by fear or respect.
The professor blinked, caught off guard for the first time in a long while. Few people could read me so openly, with no resistance. And those titles… they paint a picture of a man who has walked a long and difficult road, one that defies expectation from someone who smiles so easily.
After a moment, Charles allowed a small smile. "The titles seem to have improved over time. Was that intentional, or is it just random order?"
Naruto chuckled. "In order," he confirmed. "People called me those bad names because of my birth. But even now, beyond the boundaries of my empire, some still whisper them in their hearts. Inside my lands, I am their king, the one who brought them into a golden age. To them, I am a savior. To outsiders? A tyrant, a threat, something to be feared. It depends on who you ask."
Charles nodded slowly, his fingers steepled together. It was a truth he understood all too well. Perception dictated reality, and for every person who saw Xavier as a protector, there were others who saw him as a dangerous radical.
"Why?" Charles asked, his voice carrying genuine curiosity. "Why walk that path?"
Naruto's smile lingered, but there was something knowing in his eyes. "I wonder why."
It was a non-answer, but Charles understood. He remembered Jean's words earlier—Naruto had killed, had taken lives that would never return. Even if he had done it for a reason, there would always be those who despised him for it. The weight of leadership, of power, always carried that burden.
The room fell into a brief silence before Charles changed the subject. "Thank you for your honesty. What do you think of our school?"
Naruto stretched his legs slightly, glancing around the room before returning his gaze to Charles. His expression was thoughtful, but there was a flicker of something more—perhaps calculation, perhaps amusement.
Naruto leaned back into the sofa, his posture casual but his words sharp. "Personally, I still hate school," he admitted with a slight smirk. "But as a leader, I think this place is a good idea. There aren't really any other professional alternatives for mutant education."
Charles watched him carefully, already expecting the but that was about to come.
"But," Naruto continued, "it would be better if you just took over the mind of the human leaders causing you trouble or moved the school to a far-off land. I could do that for you. You could keep someone here to guide any new mutants to the island while you focus on leading your people."
The suggestion made Charles tense, though he had expected something like this. "I will keep that in mind," he replied evenly, choosing his words carefully. He had already dismissed the first idea once before, but Naruto's second option had been modified. Moving the school somewhere safer wasn't an entirely unreasonable suggestion.
Naruto chuckled, seeing the irritation in Charles' gaze. "Any other feedback?" Charles asked, pushing past his own annoyance.
"I'll help you guys teach the kids when I have time," Naruto said, his voice carrying an air of confidence. "My eyes can see through people's potential, so I can push them to the limits of their power safely. That should help a lot."
Charles was intrigued but cautious. "That would be invaluable, but how do you plan to ensure their safety?"
Naruto waved a hand. "I've already provided you with a barrier that will keep anyone with harmful intentions away."
That statement made Charles pause. "You already placed a barrier?"
"Yeah," Naruto said easily, as if he had simply flicked a switch. "I could have programmed it to kill intruders, but I don't think you'd like dead bodies piling up outside the property. Or on your conscience."
Charles exhaled, keeping his frustration in check. Naruto spoke so casually about life and death that it was unsettling, but he had just done something incredibly useful for them. Even so, the way he spoke about lethal options as if they were minor inconveniences… it was dangerous.
"I am genuinely grateful for this assistance, Naruto," Charles said, keeping his tone calm and composed.
Naruto grinned, sensing Charles' restrained irritation. "No problem, I like to help." Then his smile faded slightly, and his golden eyes gleamed with a sharp, dangerous light. "But know that I don't coddle. So warn them—if they come to me for training, they will become strong, but they will go through major pain. If they can't handle that, they shouldn't walk into my class."
Charles met his gaze, reading the seriousness in his expression. There was no exaggeration in his words. Naruto wasn't just offering to help—he was promising results, but at a cost.
"Our children are not cowards," Charles said firmly. "They will be given the choice. So, let us meet some potential candidates."
He had dealt with dangerous men before. Wolverine hadn't been easy either, and yet, he had become one of their most valuable allies. Naruto was more than just dangerous—he was something far beyond what Xavier had encountered before. But if he could be guided in the right direction, if he could genuinely help…
Then perhaps, this was an opportunity unlike any other.