(PROFESSOR UZUMAKI) ANOTHER PLAYER

Halle, or Headphones Girl as she knew she was called, had never pretended to be the most serious student Naruto-sensei had taken under his wing, and she doubted anyone in the class would argue otherwise. Greg burned with an ambition that was honestly frightening at times, the kind that refused to accept limits of any sort, while Sophia chased conflict as if it personally owed her something, which was its own brand of unsettling. 

Even the quieter ones, people like Taylor, carried a sharp edge of purpose beneath the surface that made it clear they were destined for amazing things.

By comparison, Halle’s reasons for being there felt almost embarrassingly small. She wanted to know enough to protect herself and the people she cared about if things went wrong, to avoid being helpless if Brockton Bay’s ever-present chaos spilled directly into her life. Beyond that, she did not want much at all. 

She liked getting her hair done on weekends and taking her time choosing nail colors and outfits that made her feel pretty. She liked wandering malls with her friends, drifting in and out of dressing rooms, and losing track of time over food court snacks and idle conversation. She liked being fifteen and not having to think too far ahead, not having to decide what kind of person she was supposed to become.

Becoming a cape, even a faux one armed with strange techniques and borrowed confidence, had never been part of some grand calling for her. It was a precaution, nothing more, a way to make sure she could survive if the worst ever happened.

After all, before Naruto had entered her life, even that sort of normalcy had sometimes felt out of reach. There were days when simply getting out of bed felt like a chore she had to force herself through, days when the world pressed in too close and too loud, demanding energy she did not have. 

That was why she wore her headphones everywhere. They were a barrier and a shelter, a way to dull the constant noise of the world and retreat into something familiar and safe. Music filled the empty spaces where her anxiety liked to settle, smoothing things over and giving her somewhere to hide when everything else felt overwhelming.

That habit had started after her dad died, though she had never admitted that out loud, not even to herself. The headphones had been his last gift to her, handed over with an awkward smile and a promise that they had good sound quality, that she would like them. She had, immediately and fiercely. 

Losing him so suddenly had left a hollow space she did not know how to acknowledge, much less fill, and the headphones had become her way of keeping herself breathing through it all. They stayed with her everywhere, through school hallways and grocery stores, bus rides and even family gatherings, always on and always ready to shut the rest of the world out.

So when her outlook began to change, her mother noticed.

It had not been sudden. There was no dramatic moment of clarity or emotional breakthrough that sent Halle leaping out of bed one morning ready to face the world. Instead, it was a gradual easing, a slow understanding that the world was not quite as unbearable as it used to be. 

Training with Naruto had helped in ways she had not expected. He never pushed her to be someone she was not, and he never told her that she had to train if she did not want to. He treated chakra as something neutral and personal, a tool rather than a burden, and that alone made it easier for her to engage with his classes without feeling trapped or pressured.

One day, she had stepped outside without her headphones and did not realize it until she was halfway down the street. The realization had startled her more than the noise ever could have. Her mother’s reaction had been even stronger, eyes widening as if she were seeing a stranger standing beside her. To her mom, Halle without her headphones was a significant moment of her life, a marker of healing she had never known how to ask for or even hope for.

The headphones were still important, of course. Halle still used them, still treasured them, still thought of her dad every time she slipped them on. Letting go of wearing them everywhere did not mean she had forgotten him, or that his loss mattered any less. It simply meant she was choosing to live with the world again, to engage with it instead of constantly retreating from it. As strange as it felt to admit, carrying that shield at all times had been holding her back from enjoying the life she still had.

Even so, heroes and villains still found their way into her thoughts.

Some days, her imagination wandered despite her better judgment. She would catch herself daydreaming about flying high above Brockton Bay like Alexandria, powerful and untouchable, swooping into danger to save people before vanishing into the sunset. She knew it was unrealistic, that chakra did not suddenly grant flight just because she wanted it to, but the image still held a powerful pull. Strength like that was tempting, especially in a city that punished weakness so thoroughly.

However, fear always followed those thoughts close behind. 

Halle barely knew how to fight. Her training was basic and defensive, focused more on awareness and escape rather than confrontation. The idea of standing against villains with her current level of skill was terrifying. She knew her limits, and she respected them. For now, the cape scene was something she watched from a distance, equal parts fascinated by it and relieved that she was not truly part of it.

Life, however, did not care about careful plans or personal boundaries, and it had a way of forcing one’s hand whether someone was ready or not.

Now, pressed flat against the ceiling of Brockton Bay Central Bank, Halle forced herself to stay still, her heart hammering so hard she was certain it would give her away. She was tucked into an alcove above the lobby, hidden from casual view, her body held in place by chakra in a way that still felt unreal every time she relied on it. Below her, the air was thick with fear, the kind that clung to skin and made every sound feel louder than it should have been.

She did not need to search long to find her mom.

She knelt among the other hostages, shoulders hunched in and hands clenched together so hard her knuckles had gone white. Her eyes darted around constantly, tracking the villains, the massive dogs, the shifting shadows, and every sharp movement that hinted things could get worse at any second. Halle could see the effort it took for her to stay upright and composed, to project calm for the sake of the people around her and herself.

A cold knot formed in Halle’s stomach.

This was not a drill or a hypothetical danger. This was not a training scenario under careful supervision, or Naruto’s calm voice guiding her through controlled exercises. This was real and immediate, and the person she loved most in the world was right in the middle of it. The instinct to hide surged up inside her, urging her to stay still and invisible and let the heroes handle everything.

But another feeling rose alongside it, quieter but harder to ignore.

She was not entirely helpless.

Sure, she did not know how this would end or what she could realistically do, and fear still wrapped tight around her ribs, threatening to steal her breath. But, as she pressed herself more firmly against the ceiling and watched her mother’s terrified face among the other terrified patrons, Halle knew she might have to involve herself in the cape scene whether she wanted to or not.