Demon Tails
By: Frozen Utopia
Minato watched everything transpiring around him with sad eyes. He watched as if detached from his body, everything muted and in black and white. He knew these were the symptoms caused by the abuse and overuse of one's magic energy, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
For all this, was done to protect his son, his newborn baby.
He watched lifelessly as the Rune Knights before him fell one-by-one to the immense beam of magic that was slowly fading from his palms, outstretched before him. As the last one became a pile of ashes, Minato's world suddenly shifted, and he realized he had fallen without feeling it.
His body had gone numb.
With difficulty, he shifted his eyes to his wife, one of her arms missing and a ragged gash torn through her right side. She lay on her left, and through the haze that was beginning to envelop the blonde mage, he could see the blonde tufts of his baby boy's hair, peeking over the light blue blanket in which he was wrapped securely. He was laying in his mothers intact left arm, safely nuzzled up to her bosom, and Minato could only hope with his dying thoughts that a kind soul would give his son the life he truly deserved.
-Demon Tails-
Kurama couldn't help but snort with displeasure as he trudged through the seemingly endless wasteland of broken and mangled human bodies. They were destroyed; yet all in similar ways.
He wanted to meet the being that could bring down swathes of men seemingly as well as he himself could.
Finally nearing the end of the devastation, Kurama came upon a trough torn through the ground that he found resembled that of a weak Bijuudama.
Gazing to the end of the long pit scarring the ground, Kurama found himself looking upon the beaten forms of two humans, both dead.
Even though he felt disappointed that the being would have fallen after leaving behind such devastation, he was surprised to find that it was a human that had created such destruction. He couldn't help but find the man's power respectable.
For a human, anyway.
As the massive fox turned to leave the broken wasteland, a wrenching wail tore through the landscape, freezing the demon in its tracks. He would know that sound anywhere.
'A child?'
Scrutinizing the blonde male more thoroughly, Kurama was confused. There was no sign of a child anywhere...
The wail came again, this time slightly to the right of the man's broken form. His gaze shifting, Kurama noticed the red-headed woman...and the child wrapped safely in her arm. As the fox from hell watched the babe struggle helplessly in the confines of its blanket, he could not help the feral grin that stretched across his features and the glint that entered his eyes.
As the great being rapidly began to shrink in size and its shape begin to morph, Kurama could not help a single thought from crossing his mind.
'It seems I will have to tell my siblings that I have finally found my champion.'
As the fox-turned-man with crimson red hair plucked the child from his mother's embrace, he could feel the power emanating from the boy's small body.
Walking slowly from the site of the battlefield with the blonde baby in his arms, Kurama thought to himself proudly.
'You will show the world the power of the Demon King Kurama, my son!'
-Demon Tails-
The whole house was in an uproar as a group of adults sat around a table, all of them cheering raucously. Seated at the table was a man with spiky purple hair and grey eyes facing a ten year old boy with their arms locked in a struggle for power.
The boy had light blonde hair that was braided back and he was wearing jet black sunglasses, even if it was the middle of the night. He wore no shirt, and so the other occupants of the room could watch as his arm muscles, which were obscenely large for his age, bulged in the effort to push against the equally large arm of his father.
The spectators to the good-natured arm wrestle were mostly adults, with only two other children in the room.
The first was a fifteen year old boy with a muscular build and bright red hair pulled back in a samurai-style ponytail. He was of average height and he stood proudly beside his father, a mountain of a man with buzz-cut red hair and arms that bulged insanely with the amounts of muscle packed into them.
The second was eleven years old and had black hair that was constantly covered by the crimson red hoodie that he constantly wore open. He sat at his mother's feet, his legs crossed and his back leaning against the bottom of the couch. His mother was a tall, lithe woman with long, wavy brilliant white hair. She wore a simple black sports bra and white jeans with her feet left bare, showing off her well endowed chest and perfect curves. She looked to be no older than twenty five.
The rest of the adults in the room varied, with the youngest looking no older than twenty. In all there were eight of them, and each held more power than the last.
The youngest and weakest among them was a man with sandy blonde hair and deep gold eyes. He wore a simple skin-tight brown t-shirt and long pants the same color as the sand, his feet covered by fluffy raccoon slippers. His name was Shukaku, and his son was currently one of the two youngest in the house. They would be celebrating his first birthday soon.
The second was a woman with short spiky blue hair and black eyes that seemed able to stare into the depths of your soul. She wore a black mid-riff shirt and dark blue capris, her feet left bare just like her those of her elder sister. She looked to be twenty three years old. Her name was Matatabi, and her daughter was the six year old Yuugito.
The third was found lounging on a couch, and he was the only person in the room to be found asleep. Then again, the group knew that unless he was training his four year old son Yagura, he was sleeping. He had apple green hair that was spiked up and there was a scar over his right eye. Leaning against the arm of the couch on his right were his three cursed blades sitting in their scabbards. He was wearing a white muscle shirt and had a green rope wrapped thrice around his waist that served as a belt. The makeshift belt held up his black jeans and his feet were normally covered by black shoes, but they were currently bare. The man's name was Isobu
The fourth stood next to his son and looked to be thirty years old. He wore no shirt leaving his monstrous arms bare, but his legs were covered by red jeans and on his feet were light brown sandals. His son Roshi was the oldest among the eight children living in the massive house. The man himself was named Goku.
The fifth sat on the couch beside Shukaku and was enjoying fiddling with her son's messy black hair, which was for once not covered by his crimson hood. Han grunted at his mother's wandering fingers and she laughed lightly, knowing that it annoyed him. The woman's name was Kokuo.
The sixth lay upside down on the second couch, her legs swinging back and forth in the air aimlessly. She had silvery white hair that was cut short and choppy and her eyes were a shocking shade of violet. She wore a simple short silver dress and her feet were bare, like her sisters. Her son was asleep in his room upstairs, and his name was Utakata. Her own name was Saiken, and she looked to be around twenty two years old.
The seventh sat next to her twin sister, the only differences between the two being their hair and eye color. Where Saiken had white hair and violet eyes, Chomei had dark green hair and equally green eyes. She wore a pure white bra and apple green jeans. Chomei's daughter was young Fuu, and she had celebrated her first birthday a few weeks before.
The final adult was the man facing off against his son, Bee. Unlike his son, he wore a purple skin tight t-shirt and had on grey jeans. His feet were covered by a pair of deep purple shoes and he looked to be about twenty eight years old. Just as Gyuki decided to end the match with his son, slamming the ten year old's arm through the wooden table, the front door blew open and the howling winds of the night entered the room.
The door closed with a thud, and all of the room's occupants turned their eyes to the entrance. There stood a man with spiky crimson hair and slitted red eyes, his six foot frame covered by a brown traveling cloak. His form was dripping from the severity of the storm that raged outside, and as he looked upon the gathering before him, he grinned.
Raising the small bundle in his arms and removing the blanket from the child, Kurama cradled his chosen son in his arms letting the occupants of the room to set their gazes on him.
"I would like for everyone to me Naruto, the Demon Prince!"
And within moments, the large house that rested atop a mountain in the middle of a dense forest erupted into cheer.
The Demon Prince had been chosen.
-Demon Tails-
So how is this for the start of a Fairy Tail/Naruto Xover? The next chapter is Naruto growing up with his siblings.
Frozen Utopia, Signing out!