Disclaimer: Constantine and RoM don't own Naruto. Constantine does own his OCs however.
And RoM owns all the water in his body as well as the ideas inside his brain.
Chapter 1
Ugly, Bloody, Screaming. Life
When you're born, all the family ever tells you, especially your own parents, is how beautiful or handsome you were at the moment you came into this world. That you were a sight to behold and at that exact time in the universe. That you were perfect. You were brought into this world in a pristine condition and 'cute'.
Which is a lie.
No matter who you are, when you were born, you were ugly. You were a mass of nerves and fat. You were fragile bones and blood in a screaming, pink, twitching sack of flesh. Covered in blood. And crying.
And that's life.
Kensei Uzumaki's eyes opened to the dim, faded light that passed through his window and into his room. He wasn't a morning person, and his house reflected that. The one glass window in his room never let the light directly into that part of the house, being placed north to south instead of east to west. He wanted to make sure any mornings he had a hangover weren't made worse by the rays of sunlight washing across his face and triggering a headache or a feeling of nausea. He still has those feelings from time to time, but he didn't need to drink for those. They just happened.
He sighed and sat up in his bed, closing his eyes a moment and trying to recall what he had to do.
'Breakfast. Tea. Clothes. Carry the wood out to the forge. Head into Wave and get the shipment of raw iron. Place an order in town for a cooked chicken. Bring the iron back. Pick up the chicken. Home. Draw up the plans for his client's sword. Eat. Refine the iron. Sleep.'
Being the local blacksmith in a non-major, ninja-lacking village gave him a lot of free time. It also allowed him to accept orders from whoever he wanted without being told to do so by a Kage or a Daimyo. That meant all the money he made was his and his alone. No taxes to pay for protection, no income tax, no regulations on what he could or couldn't make, who he had to make weapons for, who he couldn't make weapons for, no limit to what materials he could get. The only things that decided who he made a sword for these days were the amount of money they paid and whether or not the client was 'honorable.' Not many ninja were worthy of a sword to him, which was why he had a job coming up in the Land of Iron. Say what you want about the Samurai, they knew right from wrong and defended the people above all else. And that's why he accepted their money. That and he was running out of food.
Kensei looked around his kitchen lazily, his brown eyes searching for anything he could eat. Half a bag of rice caught his eye, but other than that, his house seemed devoid of anything edible. 'Then again. . .that's why I'm headed out tomorrow.' He scratched his long, brown hair, contemplating what to drink it with. He had a full day ahead, so alcohol wasn't a choice. Sadly enough, he noticed, that was one of the only things - other than steel - he owned in abundance. 'Water it is. . .' Kensei sighed, walking over to the well near his forge, dropping the bucket and waiting for the tell-tale splash it made as it reached the bottom. He quickly pulled the rope up, used to the hand over hand action years of repeating this same scene in front of him had engrained into his muscles. As the bucket reached the top, he noticed he forgot a pitcher to hold the water between his well and the trip back to his house.
'. . .I hate today.'
That statement was thought, uttered, mentioned, cursed, mumbled, put into haiku form, had epic tales written about it and shouted by Kensei most of his life.
Something was always ruining his mood – which was already complacent at best most days – and he figured it had something to do with his ancestors or maybe a past life or whatever the hell happened when you died and placed your blame/faith in an invisible creator you already questioned the existence of in the first place. Then again, people shot fire out of their mouths, summoned giant, talking animals and on occasion brought the dead back from the grave.
Who was he to judge?
None of this, however, changed the fact he had to pick up the damn pitcher from the damn kitchen.
Kensei tossed the last piece of wood into the collection he had been amassing next to his forge, taking a deep breath and wiping away the sweat from his forehead. His arms felt spent; He would have to refrain from any heavy lifting until he was in the Land of Iron. A blacksmith that couldn't use his arms was useless and he was getting paid enough for his next job to take a break and tinker around in his own smith when he came back in a few months. They had promised him free food while he was working, lodging and, much to his surprise, even an armed escort to as well as from Wave to Iron itself. That's why he worked for Iron – Say what you will about the way of the samurai being dead, but they knew how to honor an agreement.
With his work around the house done for the moment, he knew it was time to make the trek into the village to get his materials. The sooner he managed to gather and refine his iron, the less he'd have to smelt when he came back from his trip. It was one of those mundane actions he had burned into his mind over the years, hating it too much for words. It required a lot of waiting and not enough pay off. Most of the ore was burnt off or lost in the process of turning it into steel from the raw matter itself.
In layman's terms, he lost money.
Kensei walked back to his house, tossing his shirt across the length of his room and into a corner he dubbed 'that one place where all my dirty clothes go.' He then proceeded to search his room for what he deemed a 'clean' shirt, finding a tan one on his dresser, half hanging off. He pulled it over his head and slid his arms into the sleeves, the cloth helping cut the light chill that always surrounded his home. He looked down at his pants to make sure they weren't covered in mud or wood fragments from his time spent outside. Not catching anything outstanding on his black pants, he checked his matching shoes quickly, proud of how well-cleaned he was. For once. In about five months.
He checked his pockets as he walked out his door, making sure he had his keys and his documentation. Wave, a popular trading village between Kiri and Konoha, was very strict on making sure whoever went down to the docks was who they claimed to be. After having to talk to the village council two separate times due to losing his own papers, Kensei made sure to /never/ forget his papers, even when he was out of the area. He found it strange; He had to have certified papers in his- well, the place he now lived – village, but when he was abroad, all he needed was a job document or even just state he was 'on business.' Maybe that was the difference between civilian and ninja-run villages. Without the right papers, a civilian could tell who was supposed to be there and who wasn't. Ninja just killed whoever started problems.
Then again, Wave did get hit fairly often by bandits. Only the wealthy and a few of the docking ships had guards; often just for their cargo or goods. He had the benefit of living just far enough away from the village itself that no one even bothered him. Unless they meant to.
Occasionally a trader or two from Wave would stop by, have a drink and they'd do business. But other than that, all he had were 'transactions' between swordsmen that thought they were worthy of one of his blades or a dignitary from a village – much like the Land of Iron- and he signed a little piece of paper stating he would work for them.
State your name, age, village of origin, current place of residence, occupancy, civilian or military, if military are you active or retired, if civilian, merchant or other, if visiting from out of local residence are you a member of a foreign government which includes but is not limited to nobility, military, council or other such related offices.
In the event of an emergency, who do we contact.
'Cemetery.'
That was an inside-joke for Kensei.
He turned around and locked the door to his house, not sure how long he was going to be at the docks before he would be able to get what he needed. It was going to be a long day.
Smoke.
Fire.
Shouting, screaming, crying.
People running.
That's one thing Kensei knew would continue for a while; People running around the village. Fire sparked some kind of urgency in people that just made it impossible to walk or jog. You needed to go as fast as possible.
He saw the smoke well before he saw the village itself, but he didn't think much of it. Sometimes the baker burnt his bread, the docks caught fire, or there was some kind of barbeque. He liked to be optimistic. Until he saw the bodies. Kensei jogged into the town, noting that it was now in the hands of the villagers, a few guards and even three samurai. He noticed one of his usual merchants, Kyo, the man talking with a dock worker, the worker soon nodding and taking off to help put out one of the fires, a few ninja putting it out with suiton jutsu, civilians using buckets. Kyo sold cloth and textiles. The two men also liked to drink at the same bar together.
"Kyo, the fuck happened?"
"Bandit raid." He motioned for Kensei to follow him, the blacksmith walking along the dock and into the village.
"Apparently they heard about the shipment of gold passing through. Konoha to Kiri I think."
"How bad is it?"
"Fifty-six dead. Thirty-six men, eleven women. Three kids." Kyo sighed and stopped by the edge of the town and near the forest where a lot of the bodies were. "They came in here. . .cut right through most of the civilians and a few of the guards. They kept pushing forward to the docks, got pushed back by the guards and the samurai Kiri hired to follow their money-" His conversation was cut short by a baby's cry. Kensei looked over the bodies and came as close as he could to the noise. He saw a familiar face of a woman, the eyes closed and her arms cradling a cloth. ". . .Fuck."
He took a knee next to the woman and moved some of her hair away from her face. A few strands of her light brown hair refused to move, sticking to the flecks of blood on her cheek and forehead. Kensei took a moment to close her eyes, the blue in them finally being hidden. He knew the woman. Before she had her kid, they had traded a few times. She was a leather worker.
"Yeah. . .Hitomi was one of the last ones they got on their way out through the forest. I guess she was hiding her kid." Kyo mentioned, looking around as well then stepping closer, checking the face on a nearby corpse. "And I guess I know why she died. Husband's here too." Kensei took the blonde child from Hitomi's arms, finding it uneasy as he did, but he pushed the feeling down. "Looks like he took out a few ninja." Kensei turned around, careful with the now falling-asleep infant he had in his arms, the blonde hair matching the body he was looking at. It wasn't platinum, more of a lemon yellow. A deep yellow. The man on the ground also had a sword in his hand, blood seeping out of his shirt and caked in his sword's grip. Kensei knew by the steel, the insignia of a three-headed wolf and hand-guard that it was made in the Land of Iron. He was probably an ex-samurai. ". . .They have any relatives I could bring the kid to?"
"Not that I'm aware of. I'm pretty sure Hitomi mentioned she was from Kiri, and. . .for the life of me, I'm drawing a blank on the husband. Real quiet type. All smiles and work. Last name was Taro though. . .not much to go on, really."
"They have any friends that might know?"
"Other than people who knew them in their native villages, I don't think so. She was always taking care of their kid and he was always out at the docks working."
". . .Does the kid even have a name?"
"Yeah, she called him Naruto."
". . .So what's gonna happen to him?"
"I guess we'll take him to Konoha or Kiri. He's probably still eligible for adoption in Kiri's books because his mom was a national. Konoha's all about that orphan stuff-"
Kensei sighed and looked back at the sword. Maybe he could find a relative on his trip.
"Actually Kyo, I know where that blade's from. All their swords are marked and recorded in books back in the Land of Iron. Maybe I'll find him an uncle or something."
"Alright then. Wait. . ."
"Yeah?"
"Do you even know how to take care of a baby?"
". . .They shit and you clean it out, they eat and cry a lot. That's it, right?"
". . . . .I'd be shocked and appalled if that wasn't actually true."
Kensei looked down at the baby in his arms, which in turn, was looking right back up at him, almost in a stare. Not a glare- malice doesn't really translate through an infant- just a passive stare. Like it was contemplating who this strange man holding him was and why he should care. And when was he going to get food.
Kensei had his metals delivered to his house by a few dock workers once the fires were out, assuming the best thing he could do for the moment was take care of the baby he was now in possession of. He looked around his kitchen, remembering he was out of food.
'These things drink milk and that's it, right?' He tried to remember what he had seen babies eat or drink. It had been a while since he'd even caught a glimpse of an infant, let alone watched one eat. He'd definitely have to ask around when the time came. And how were you supposed to clean them? God, they always smelt like sulfur and rotten meat when it was. . .that time. He knew that for sure.
Thankfully, little Naruto had either gone before or didn't have anything in him to 'let go' of. That was a nightmare he was hoping to pass over completely when he got to the Land of Iron. It would take four days to travel there by horse, but now he had to take a wagon, extending his trip by another three.
"Naruto Taro. Shit kid, your parents must have hated you. Named after a foodstuff in a sub-par noodle dish and getting the most common last name I've seen this side of 'Lee.' If there's a God or whatever, he's gotta be picking on you."
Hell, he had just lost his own parents and he wasn't even old enough to remember their faces. Or how much they probably loved him.
". . .I'm sure your relatives will be able to cover that whole set of questions when you're older though. . ."
Unless they were drunks. And abusive. Or maybe dead. Or non-existent.
Kensei shook his head. Why did he suddenly care to much about what happened to this kid? He had just found out the damn thing existed today. Well, he knew he was alive before this, but it was damn sure the first time he had ever caught a glimpse of the thing. And it looked stunningly like its own parents already. He had the blonde hair his father seemed to have and even the deep blue eyes Hitomi had. That was half of how he remembered the woman. Laughing and looking at him with those eyes.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by a random 'Wah?' the baby spewed out of its tiny mouth. Like it was asking him a question.
"Alright. I promise to get some milk before he go, happy?"
"Wah?"
"And clean you. Or better yet, find a woman who knows how to."
"Lurr!"
"I knew you'd like that." Kensei smirked, patting the kid on his head twice. That's what you did to babies right? Petted them like a dog or a cat? It had been a while.
It had been quite some time since he had actually seen. . .anybody, really. He tried to avoid the whole thing. It made him dread 'merchant day'- When he had to go to town to get something for a sword or pretend to be someone's friend at the bar just so they would sell him something cheaper. He tended to hate his customers too, for the most part. All they ever did was ask him for weapons and make threats if he didn't. Those select few usually got a knife or an arrow bolt to their kidney. Kensei hadn't been a ninja, but over the years he had learned how to protect himself just by having common sense. It did however, take one big mistake in order for him to know when a threat needed to be 'taken care of.'
"Wah!" And again, the blonde infant had pulled him from his thoughts.
"Shit kid, I remember when I picked you up you went to sleep. When the fuck did that stop?!"
"Wah!"
"OK, GOD! WE'LL GET THE DAMN MILK!"
"Wah!"
Kensei cried in frustration and stood up, carrying the boy with him out his door. His trip to the Land of Iron couldn't come fast enough.
"Waaahhhhh! Waaaaahhhhhh!"
Crying.
For the past two hours and twenty minutes, crying.
Unending, pitch never wavering, someone gaining octaves that would make most animals implode or bleed from the ears, crying.
Carrying across the cloth walls in the wagon, passing out the thin flap that moved in the wind and with every little bump on the road, then into what Kensei guessed was a valley, reverberating off of the cliffs and hills then coming back into the same small space and getting louder, crying.
Or at least that's what it felt like.
"Naruto. . .come on. I'm trying to help you out here and you just won't. . .shut. . .up." Kensei tried to feed the baby again, tilting the bottle he held. Naruto turned his head away for a moment then started sucking on the bottle. It seemed the only way to stop the boy was to give him food. He managed to find a store that was willing to sell him the supplies he needed to take care of Naruto for his trip to Iron itself, but he'd need to restock on milk and diapers. Most certainly he'd have to get new diapers. He changed one already and. . .to be honest, it had scared the smith. He had seen corpses piled together, left in the sun and burnt with acids that by themselves had odors strong enough to make him cringe.
But those diapers. . .
Nightmares couldn't create a smell that rancid.
It was the materialized version of death.
His soul would forever carry the stench he had caught with him. Even to the afterlife.
And that was only the /first/ one he had to deal with.
From what the woman had told him at the store, this was going to be a problem for him at /minimum/ four times. A day. Oh, and also at night.
Kensei knew that as his first priority in Iron, he would get the remainder of what he had to for taking care of Naruto. He figured whatever he had left over when he found a relative could be a sort of 'welcoming gift.'
An 'I'm sorry your loved ones died and now you have a living creature you may have never seen before to take care of for the foreseeable future' gift.
He made a mental note to find out more about the bandit attack when he got back home. He had a few favors to call in with a few customers. People that could remind the bandits why it was a bad idea to fuck with the place he lived. Well, lived near.
There was a lot to consider. And he wasn't even going to be back in same nation for at least two months. Anyone that participated or even planned the attack could be gone or even have died by then.
But that was just something he'd work around when the time arose.
Right now, there was a certain stench arising.
And the culprit in question was in his arms.
He moved the bottle out of Naruto's mouth and tried not to gag at the smell wafting around the wagon.
"SON OF A BITCH!"
"Yaaahh!"
Ok, he would definitely kill the people responsible.
Snow.
Blinding, driving, every color melding into the brightest white ever crafted.
All the time.
That was what Kensei experienced every time he had come to the Land of Iron. It was also 'effin cold'.
He made sure to wrap Naruto twice, two of his own blankets covering the baby as well as keeping the infant as close to him as he could. It took him ten minutes, but he managed to change the boy in the wagon. He also managed to hock the used diaper as far as he could out of the wagon, praising the spirits as he saw it sailing into the wilderness and away from his life.
Kensei had also put on a new layer of clothing, his face covered mostly by a hood and his arms protected from the chill by his black, wool coat. It did itch slightly, but that was a small price to pay for the lack of shivering. He had asked his driver how far they were from the village, and he almost always received the same answer. "When it's in sight, we're usually there already."
Kensei /hated/ the cold.
It was one of two things on this planet he wished would die. As much as one could wish the weather itself to die. He didn't understand it; Why did winter even exist? It just made everything unbearably cold, crops died, animals hibernated and weren't able to be hunted, the trees thinned out and lost their leaves, water froze and had to be heated in order to even be used and for some retarded reason, it made rain into hail. It made liquid into a solid that /hit/ you. And even if it made snow, that crap could bury you alive in your own home and kill you.
Winter weather was just put on this planet to be annoying.
He also hated cows, but that was an entirely different subject.
Loved the beef they were made of, hated the creatures.
But right now, he was just hoping they'd be in the village soon. The thin leather or cloth the wagon was made out of flapped in the wind, despite the roof of the wagon itself looking frozen stiff. Despite everything, the child in his arms seemed to find now a good time to take a nap.
'He's pooped.' Kensei thought for a moment before noticing he had just used a pun.
'. . .I'm so old.' He lowered his head in sadness. He was using puns and had a baby to take care of. It'd probably only be a few days before he forgot where he was and just died. Maybe he should just get a tombstone while he was in Iron and let nature take its course.
"Oi, we're here!" He heard the driver state.
"About time." Kensei muttered. He sat up slowly, the wagon coming to a full stop. His back popped as he made his way out of the wagon, jumping down and landing in a foot of snow.
". . .I fucking hate snow."
"We're well aware of this by now Kensei." He turned and saw his contractor.
"Bantou Raiten."
"And I see we're using formal greetings. Been a while, Kensei Uzumaki." Bantou bowed mockingly and smirked when he walked over to Kensei. "I'd shake your hand, but it looks like their full at the moment. Didn't think of you as the type to settle down. Where's the missus?"
"Dead."
"Kensei-"
"Don't worry, Naru-. . .it isn't mine. Bandits hit Wave. Parents died. Father was a real piece of work judging by the bodies he managed to surround himself with. One of yours by the look of his blade." He nodded his head towards the sword on his back. "Was hoping you could find his relatives. Let 'em know. And get this kid a proper home, yeah?"
"Of course. He have a name?"
"Last one was Taro, didn't have a first confirmed by anybody. Kid's name is Naruto if that helps. Blonde like his old man."
"That should help, but our records aren't exactly perfect. We've had a few of the older buildings collapse due to the weight of the snow. And wouldn't you know it. . ."
"Yeah, government buildings tend to get few or no renovations. . ."
"Waste of taxes."
"Isn't everything?"
"Hey, I wouldn't say that if I were you. Who do you think is financing you?"
"The wonderful people of this fine and upstanding land?"
"One and the same."
Kensei stood still and looked down at Naruto, the boy still deep in his little slumber. He felt his heart sting slightly when he noticed the way he swatted at a snow flake absentmindedly. "I guess until then I could take care of the little annoyance."
"Are you sure? We have a very well stocked orphanage. One of those government buildings that manages to keep its funding. Mostly from private pockets, but you understand."
". . .Nah, it's fine. Wouldn't want to burden you with this monster's eating habits anyways. But uh. . .it wouldn't be too much of an issue to alter the contract, would it?"
"Not at all. Few more swords and knives, anything is possible."
Kensei smirked. Contracts were always negotiable. Unlike the damn weather.
Kensei looked at the paper in his hands, smiling broadly at the amount of money he had managed to secure. On arrival back to Wave, he would be the favorite of every bar, every brothel, and every smoked meat store that still existed or was rebuilt by his return.
"Waahh!"
And Naruto could eat as much as he needed while Kensei was watching over him. He placed the document in his pocket and walked over to the bed he had laid the baby Naruto on. After picking the boy up, he lifted the bottle next to him as well, feeding the blonde.
The house he was in- the apartment, actually- was one he knew well. It was the same one every time he came back to Iron. They almost had the place on lease for him. Offered it as a 'permanent residence' if he ever decided to move in.
Not that he would.
Admittedly, moving into a nation meant you had stable work. It also meant you only worked for one nation. At a set rate. And when wartime came around, you had very strict regulations. The Land of Iron was neutral in the ninja world; the samurai viewed themselves as peacekeepers. A dying breed of honorable warriors that protected themselves and were a self-reliant people.
That also meant Kensei, while a frequent visitor, would have too much downtime for his liking.
He needed to work, it kept his mind busy and skills sharp. He never was good with any of the weapons he made, but he was /damn/ fine at making them. A few lessons and basics here or there from customers and even his father back when he lived in Kusagakure, but nothing remarkable. Kensei could swing a sword, but then again, who couldn't?
Lift, tilt, push. Physics.
Bows and arrows went the same. Aim, pull string, aim, let go or pull trigger. Physics.
Throwing knives. Aim, toss. Physics.
Back when he was in school, Kensei never liked math. He never liked P.E. Hell, the only things he even passed were advanced writing and what his country passed-off as music; Kensei knew how a guitar worked.
The parts of school he loved and managed to retain were simple: Women and how to make money.
At the ripe age of thirteen, Kensei found out real quick that the people who didn't get beat up or left in the cold had money or could punch the shit out of someone.
And he was one of those rail-thin kids.
So he had to take the more diplomatic approach to life growing up.
Take a punch or sell the boy a new Icha Icha Paradise.
Lucky for him, thirteen was also the age most /other/ boys wanted to know what was so important about those books.
And that was the start of his life as a merchant.
By the time he was eighteen, the young Uzumaki had been the go-to man for all things able to be bought within campus grounds.
Kunai for the ninja-in-training, 'reading materials' for the men, alcohol for parties, documents- both forged and authentic- for any self-respecting student that needed a way out of school early.
This promising business venture he ran also made him popular with all the right people. In Kusa, this was seen as a respected path. The elders saw diplomacy as the ultimate tool in life.
Why fight when you can just get the other party to pay you /and/ leave you alone instead?
Popularity also warranted attention from the girls.
And Kensei loved it.
And he hated it.
"Fuck off, sluts!" He heard from across the main building, wincing slightly as the sound carried. It was feminine. And familiar. Kensei caught sight of a group of girls his age running away and past him without so much as a 'hello' or 'goodbye.' And then it all made sense.
"Kasumi." He muttered and rubbed his eyes. Kensei turned around, hand still covering his face, hoping that with luck, he could make it back to class and away-
"Uzumaki, where do you think you're going?" He heard a voice call out sweetly. That never boded well for him.
"Was thinking about getting some food. I mean, it's about twelve or one right now, judging by the sun-"
"It's one. Perfect time for us-" He felt a hand on his shoulder. "-to skip and get some food off campus." Escape was no longer an option. Kensei Uzumaki was dead. He could see his father grieving over his casket, throwing flowers at it, mourning him for a few months, getting over him, buying a dog or something to replace the feeling of loss. Which pissed him off. Why the hell was a dog on the same level as him to his dad? Kensei was his son and he was theoretically dead! What made a non-existent puppy so damn important?!
'I HATE YOU, IMAGINARY DAD!'
"Ken-chan?"
He sighed and turned around, looking at his friend in the eyes. Which required Kensei looking down. She was always shorter than him, ever since they were toddlers to Kensei's growth spurt around his fifteenth birthday.
"Yeah, sure. Sounds fun."
"Good! I would have had to kill you if you said no!" He watched the girl smile. She had the same brown eyes as when they had been forced into play dates by their parents. Her brown hair had grown darker and was now down to where Kensei guessed was the middle of her back.
"Ken-chan." The girl stated, trying to get his attention. He was always spacing out.
"Tomato-chan." Her voice picked up in tone, gaining that darker, more malicious tint to it he was familiar with.
". . . .Bloody-idiot!" She shouted at him, Kensei's eyes blinking quickly, his thoughts tossed aside and asunder, lost as quickly as he had gained them.
"W-what is it Kasumi?"
". . .Kasumi /what/?"
"K-Kasumi-C-chan!" He rattled off quickly, his heart beating in fear. Years of punches to the sternum and face made his reflexes flinch in pain, used to the experience of being pummeled after that particular name. When she was pissed, his dark-red hair color was brought into the argument. Then his intelligence.
"Great, you remember my name! For a second you were staring at me like your brain had finally melted." She smirked and moved closer to him, putting both her arms around his neck.
"Orr was my little tomato-chan thinking bad things about me?"
"/Fuck/ no!" Kensei blurted out. She was going to beat the ever-living shit out of him for thoughts like that.
Thoughts.
Thinking.
He didn't do that enough.
He ran his own words to her previous statement over in his mind once more.
He had just insulted her.
"Kensei. . ."
". . .I'll buy lunch."
"Not good enough." No emotion. Maybe his imaginary funeral would mirror his real one. Maybe his father could get a smaller dog. A cuter one. He'd be fine with his dad replacing him with a smaller dog. Name it after him or something.
No, if he did that, it'd probably die of bad luck.
"I'll ditch class with you for the next four days and take you out on a date." He was going to have to pull out all the stops if he was going to keep his dad from replacing his dead son with 'Kensei the Second'.
His future murderer's glare softened, a healthy pink hue on her cheeks.
"Ok then. You can live."
"Take that Kensei the Second!" He shouted and threw his fist up in exuberance.
". . .You are /so/ weird." Kasumi stated, shaking her head and punching his shoulder.
"Damn straight."
"Waaah!"
"Waaah!"
Kensei's eyes looked down, the baby in his arms whining. It took him a moment to remember where he was, his brain overclocking. Land of Iron. He was twenty-five now. He was feeding Naruto.
And then his mind clicked, everything making sense once more and the feeling of familiarity coming back to him.
As well as a smell that was comparable to a decaying corpse.
"Oh /shit/."
And he was right.
Kensei looked at the materials in front on him. Large, refined steel bars, weather-treated spools of black and blue cloth, a few blocks of finished redwood and even smaller bars steel. The larger bars of steel for the swords, the cloth was for the grip, the handle itself would be whittled into shape out of the redwood and the small bars were to be crafted into a mix of the sword guard and smaller survival knives. The knives themselves required only a few hours of grinding against a whetstone, but the swords and guards would make up much of his time. Days and weeks of folding each blade over and over and over, reheating and recooling then more folding. That was the process in which you made a proper katana. A premium katana was made up of at least three different types of steel and it took quite some time as well as money in order to put them together.
Luckily, for Kensei, they picked premium.
Or unluckily.
It meant he was paid far more than usual, but it also was labor intensive. Each sword would take at least two and a half weeks. He praised the low pass rate of samurai in Iron. If an entire class graduated each year, he would have had to make close to fifty swords every visit.
The forge he was allowed to use in the metalworking was almost as familiar as the one he used in Wave. Sometimes Kensei thought that he might have subconsciously altered his own personal one to be the same. Whatever the reason, it also saved him a few days from having to acclimate to his working space. When he worked in Kiri for the first few times, between the mist blocking his view and not remembering where the tables or anvils were, he had stubbed his toe four times, broke his hand with a hammer and actually /grabbed/ a half-cooled sword for a moment thinking it was his wolf-jaw tongs.
In Iron, the only problem he faced was over-cooling his swords if they were left out too long. It was rare, but it had happened before. Three weeks of work could be lost to a single swing of the hammer, breaking his work as well as pay in half.
While all of these problems were trial and error and less error than usual because of his time spent making swords for the last six years, he still had one rather annoying hindrance in his life.
"Lurr!"
Kensei turned his head to the now awake Nauto. He had let the infant out of his bundle, the 'littlest Taro' was now slapping his hands in the air and making what Kensei assumed was 'baby noises'. While it was admittedly cute, it also jumbled his thoughts with each different coagulation of sounds. Each one could mean he needed more milk. Or he had pooped. Or he wanted to be held. That was a big one. Well, one of the two big ones. Naruto ate like nothing Kensei had ever had the 'luck' of seeing before him, and he almost craved being held and looked at. He would throw tantrums rivaling a pack of cats fighting over tuna all in an attempt to be picked up and admired.
'Maybe Hitomi babied him too much.'
Babied him too much. Of course she did, Kensei berated himself, Naruto was only a baby. What the hell else would she have done?
Would her replacement do the same? Would the relatives even get out of their beds when he wanted attention? Wanted food? Wanted to be comforted and cared for?
These thoughts hurt him to no end. So he did what he always did when he thought too much. He worked.
Kensei swung his hammer into the heated metal, the echoing clang muted to him. He had reached what he would refer to as 'inattentive action'. Anyone could relate to it, not just a swordsmith. It was that strange zone your mind wandered to when you completed or were in the process of any action that was mundane and repetitive: Spacing out. No thought. Muscle memory and sometimes you snapped out to fix something here or there when the problem arose, but otherwise you were dead to the world.
Zen.
"Yeeheheheee!"
Kensei turned, his breath heavy after having worked for so long on folding the steel of his first katana. He had placed Naruto in a bundle of blankets again and laid the young boy in a makeshift crib out of the wooden blocks he was going to use for the handles and another blanket he fashioned into a cot of sorts. Naruto was inside the house, but near the door, safe from the elements under the roof. The boy seemed to enjoy the clang of his hammer and the sudden 'woosh' from when he had given the lump of metal on his anvil a quick drop into the chemical-mixed water. It was almost as if the noises themselves were comforting to the kid. It confused Kensei to no end.
He had heard from people when he was growing up and even when he got Naruto's clothes and diapers that babies liked relaxing sounds. Lullabies and water lapping up against the shore. Not harsh twangs and smacks from metal on metal. The sizzle of heat and water fighting to make steam. The roar of the furnace, coals crackling and snapping like what Kensei might have guessed the fires of hell would be like.
Naruto, the baby who cherished being held and cuddled was addicted to the sounds of destruction, reconstruction and fire.
He was definitely going to grow up to be an awkward child.
For some reason, that made Kensei smile.
"Kenny boy!"
Kensei groaned and sat up, his eyes adjusting to the lack of light, he tried to think of what day it was.
One month since he had gotten to Iron. And it was early.
"The fuck is it?" He answered rudely, still trying to wake up as he made his way down the hall. Kensei picked Naruto up out of his crib calmly, the blonde already awake are ready to have a 'kick-ass day' as Kensei referred to them.
"Come on Kensei, you know who it is. Who else would be up this early?"
"No one but you, Bantou."
"Exactly!"
"The hell are you so excited about." He called out to his front door, opening it with Naruto held in his free arm. Over the past thirty days, he had grown accustomed to the boy. He wasn't even that annoyed when he had to wake up in the middle of his dreams to feed him. Or change his diapers. Or just hold him.
"You're a father." Bantou said as Kensei looked at him.
". . .You're pregnant? I knew you took advantage of me." He moved out of the way to let his contractor into the house.
"You wish. Naruto Taro, while having a very unique first name, has too common of a last name. Even with the blonde hair. . .no one knows who his father is." Bantou sat down in the living room, sighing in relaxation.
"What about the records?"
"Out of the three buildings we've had collapse /this year/, wouldn't you know it. . ."
"His were in one."
"Bingoooo." Bantou elongated the word to try and make the baby in his friend's arms laugh. It worked. He was always more open when he was off the clock. He saw Kensei as a little brother of sorts. They had always joked around and gotten drunk when the opportunity presented itself, and if it wasn't for his friend, he might not have ever met his fiance.
". . .What's that mean?"
"Means the kid isn't eligible for his clan's money, even if it existed. Also means he's going to go into the orphanage and if he isn't adopted by the age of six, he will be property of the government. With that, he will be put into government mandated education and tested to see if he is able to be a samurai for this great land I live in. If he doesn't, we give him to one of the public houses and he can be introduced into the civilian populace when he reaches fourteen and given a small sum of money with which he will be able to start his new life. The system we've had in place for years. Usually works out. Pretty low turn-out for criminals and most of 'em get adopted well before their six."
". . .Adoption-"
"Has to be run by the council, Mifune himself and the prospective parents are reviewed to make sure they have the funds and mental facilties to take care of a child. All that boring shit." Bantou made a face, Naruto laughing again. Kensei sat down across from Bantou, his mind going over all the possibilities for the life in his arms.
"Is adoption open to anyone?"
"Iron residents are given priority, but if it's a special case. . .we tend to overlook that."
Kensei always was a stupid man.
". . .I'd like to make an appointment with the council."
"Sure thing. And I'm going to make an appointment with a bottle of sake!" Bantou smirked. He knew Kensei would want to adopt the kid.
Kensei always was a stupid man.
Forms.
Work Visa.
More forms.
There was probably an entire division of people alone that would have to read and re-read whatever he was signing. And that was before he was even able to talk to the council. Everything had to be done in the slowest and most official way possible when it came to governments, and that was boring to Kensei. It made much more sense to just have the man talk to the people themselves and let them see how committed he was to taking care of Naruto. He knew how to feed the kid and make sure he didn't smell. Isn't that all a parent was there for? To make sure the child smelled right and ate food until it was old enough to do those things for itself? An older man stepped out from a set of doors, two samurai flanking him.
"Uzumaki, Kensei, current resident of Wave, you have been approved to talk to the council. Please leave any and all weapons you have in your possession at the front desk please, failure to do so will result in your ejection from the premises. Do you agree to these terms?"
"Yeah. All I got is a knife and this pencil you guys lent me. I take it one of them has a lead allergy?"
Kensei pulled his knife out carefully and held it upside down, calmly placing it in the gloved hand of a samurai who bowed politely. He did the same with the pencil, trying not to laugh. The older man didn't seem to get his joke. Then again, ninja probably killed more with less, so maybe it was an actual precaution.
Bantou walked in behind him, nodding to the man and the samurai, carrying Naruto in his arms until Kensei's own were free at which point he handed the infant over. Kensei heard the doors close lightly behind him and Bantou, the Iron native walked over to the side of the door and stood still, bowing slightly to the council. They nodded in acknowledgment to him before turning to Kensei.
The Uzumaki himself bowed lightly, careful not to tilt Naruto too much. He seemed to find the movement funny.
"Ehehehehe!"
The council members smirked and one chuckled. Kensei smiled and sat down, the elderly men across from him doing the same.
"Kensei Uzumaki, we would first like to thank you for your time as well as your contributions to our nation over the years." The man in the middle called out to him.
"Thank you, sir." This is when military training would come in handy. It was standard curriculum to all people of Kusa to know how to talk to people of all lands and economic backgrounds. And a council tended to fund the more militarized functions of a nation.
"We would also like to commend your attempts to find young. . ." The man looked at the papers in front of him briefly. "Naruto Taro's family. I heard that due to the loss of our records, we are not able to confirm his actual lineage."
"That is correct, sir."
"It pains me to see such a young member of our land already orphaned, but I can also breathe a sigh of relief knowing he was taken care of by such a person as yourself."
"Thank you, sir."
"Now, in the essence of time and what is best for young Naruto, we would like to discuss a few things with you. And even after we are done here, if all goes well, you still have to gain approval of our nation's highest ranking official, General Mifune, before this child would even be eligible for adoption. You are aware of this?"
"Yes sir."
"Let the records show that Kensei Uzumaki has agreed to the council's hearing this day and the arrangement orally given to him."
Every member of the council rose their hand. "Aye."
And then the questions came.
"Where are you from originally?"
"Kusa. Kusagakure."
"What is your current profession and place of living?"
"Swordsmith, Blacksmith, general merchant of military and civilian grade tools, weapons and armor. I reside as of this time in the Land of Wave. I am also on contract here in the Land of Iron and am housed in the main village itself."
"What is your relation to the child at this time recognized as 'Naruto Taro'?"
"He was the son of a man that lived in Wave. I found him in his mother's arms after a bandit attack. His mother and father died during the attack."
"On your current salary, would you be able to support yourself as well as Naruto Taro?"
"Yes."
"Have you now, or at any time, been given a medical evaluation of mental fitness by a recognized elemental nation and failed to receive a clean bill of health?"
"No."
"Why would you like to adopt Naruto Taro?"
"Mr. Uzumaki?"
"Sorry. It's a question I've been thinking about recently." Kensei looked down at the baby and watched him watching /him/. "I want him to grow up. . .normal."
"Normal?"
"Like a regular person. Not full of hate, not questioning why he was left to live when his parents weren't, not with a family that's just going to treat him like. . .some kind of pet. I won't baby the kid, but I'm sure as hel-. . .heck not going to treat him like. . .well, crap. Maybe if I can keep him in civilian life. . .he'll grow up and be one of those happy people when he gets older. Have a job doing something he loves or he's passable at, have a wife or something. Not some little ball of. . .pissed off sadness with a lot of hate and nothing to show for it.
I don't even know what I'm trying to say here. . .I. . .I want to adopt him because I want to see him /live/. If that actually means anything."
". . .It does. You might not have the right words for it, but somehow, you've managed to express the notion." The older man smiled. He then turned to the other council members. "Any further questions?"
No one spoke up.
"At this time, would Kensei Uzumaki stand up."
Kensei stood up slowly, holding Naruto a little tighter than he usually did.
"Fellow council members, after hearing Mr. Uzumaki's answers, does anyone here decline his request for adoption of Naruto Taro?"
No one spoke up.
"The council recognizes a unanimous decision. Pending confirmation from General Mifune, the Land of Iron approves of Kensei Uzumaki as legal guardian of Naruto Taro. Congratulations."
Kensei stared down at the product of two months work. It was. . .strangely anti-climatic. He lifted the blade up carefully on his sleeves, making sure not to touch the finished sword itself. Kensei tilted the sword slightly to the left and followed the curve from it's hilt to the very tip of the blade itself – It was an exact replica of the other four he had made before it. The steel was folded eight hundred times, with three different variants of metal and had an outer coating of lightly tempered chakra metal. It allowed the Iron samurai to mold their own chakra around the katana easily. It had always required an extra bit of effort on his behalf, the metal was strangely resilient.
Maybe the metal bonded stronger with chakra or it was just his muscles being sore by the time he had gotten to working with it or it was his own, almost /complete/ lack of chakra that made it harder for him to work with the substance.
His arms lowered and he set the sword down, rolling his sleeves back up afterwords. He had made so many swords over the years that it had lost something. In his earlier days, making a weapon felt like he was creating a life. Ironically, a life that would go on to take hundreds, maybe even thousands of others. But it felt like something was dying. He had made katanas of various lengths, weights, with metals he had never seen before. Axes with two heads, bearded, poleaxes, halberds, knives, armor, spears, bows, arrows. . .any instrument of war asked of him. He had even tried to branch out and make cutlery.
It had all been done before.
But he was /good/ at this.
Kensei wrapped the sword in the blue cloth he had brought outside earlier and carried it with him inside his apartment. It felt nice to be out of the cold. He placed the katana next to its four exact copies, all of which were wrapped in the same blue cloth, tied with a yellow piece of rope. Kensei calmly made his way into his own bedroom, glad to see the orange blanket he had wrapped Naruto in had remained on the infant. Naruto had a penchant for rolling out of his covers and crying until they were back on him. He sat down next to Naruto, slowly so the moving of the bed wouldn't wake him up. With his eyes trained on the blonde, Kensei felt his heart ache. It didn't hurt, it just felt like it was missing beats. His instincts since taking the child with him had been on 'protect' and 'feed'. It was weird to Kensei – He had only needed to watch over his own life for so long that he had trouble adjusting to taking care of Naruto. When the boy cried, he was there. The first few laughs made him smile in turn. Any sneeze was met with worry and any cough brought fear he had long thought forgotten.
And for some reason, that made him happy.
Kensei bowed as deeply as he could. Which wasn't too much, what with the baby still in his arms. He had only met the Kusagakage once and that was when he had to discuss his sword smithing plans with the village itself. He had never met someone who was so famous in the sword world. Mifune. Owner of The Black Swamp. Able to swing a sword so fast that most ninja couldn't even use hand seals around him. He was a legend of legends and even a bit of an idol to Kensei when he had caught a glimpse of the man's sword. In a painting.
Meeting the man himself was a bit scary.
"Hello Uzumaki-san. It is a pleasure to meet you. I have always wondered who made those swords my personal guard carry."
"It is an honor, sir."
"Ahh, there is no need to be so formal. . .I hear you are looking to adopt a child of Iron blood."
"That is correct." Kensei said standing upright and cracking his back. There was no need in being proper now. The man /did/ say he didn't need to be formal. And carrying Naruto wasn't much of an issue at first, but the boy wasn't exactly weightless either. Kensei also wondered how the little ball of noise also refused to cry or poop while he was trying to adopt him. It was like he knew.
"And I take it this is the child?"
"Yes it is. Little Naruto."
"Naruto. He will certainly be remembered with a name like that." Mifune smiled and walked closer, taking a look at the blonde baby.
"Especially with that hair. He won't blend in, but I have a feeling that's a good thing."
"Well, depends on who you ask, really." Kensei said quickly. He didn't want his possible adopted son to be anything crazy.
"Ahh, you already seem to be worrying like a parent. Good." Mifune looked at Kensei for a few moments then scratched his head. "When the child grows older, if he wanted to, would you allow him to join our military?"
Kensei paused. He wondered what happened to the days before the Samurai and the Ninja. Did the people back then push others so hard into a life of murder? Were things simpler back then?
Probably.
"I guess it'd be up to the kid, but. . .yeah."
"Ok. What if he wanted to fight for one of the other elemental nations?"
"Sir?"
"What if he grew attached to Kusa. . .wanted to be a ninja. Would you let him?"
"I. . .guess I would. Whatever he wants to do when he's older, that's his decision."
"Word of advice, never say things like that to a leader of a village. You're lucky ours takes the neutral route." Before Kensei could speak, Mifune smirked and shook his head.
"There won't be much of a worry about Naruto, however. I can sense him from here. . .either he was born with broken chakra passages or it happened during the attack his parents died in. . .he will never be a ninja."
Kensei didn't know how to take that information initially. Being raised to see military service as a major career path and knowing that was closed to Naruto /did/ hurt him. But it also made him feel relaxed. The chances of the boy growing up in a world of death and mayhem could be averted easily now.
"Will that affect him much?" Kensei knew nothing about chakra. Once it was discovered that he was utterly devoid of the stuff himself, he committed most of his life to not caring unless it bothered him. Which it did when he learned about chakra-infused metal. Even then, he still knew nothing.
"It won't hurt him, if that's what you're asking. However, he will never be able to use his powers to their fullest potential. He might not even be able to use them if he doesn't learn proper control. It would be akin to a civilian with sealing capabilities." Mifune watched the infant with a passive stare. It was strange; the boy held large amounts of chakra inside of him, but it never seemed to go anywhere. To those who could feel chakra, it was like being in constant anticipation. Anxiety. All that build-up but for nothing.
"Good. I was worried he would be running around the world trying to spin. . .water dragons or whatever the hell those people do."
Mifune stopped himself from laughing, but barely. "Well, it is obvious to see you care about the health of Naruto and his future. . .and that's all I need."
"So. . ."
"So you should change his last name. Naruto Taro just sounds silly."
"Yeah." Kensei felt something strange in his chest. Like his heart was sore, but not in a bad way. Like it was proud. Or excited. Or some emotion he couldn't really process easily. Which made a rather long list.
"Naruto Uzumaki sounds way less retarded."
Well, hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my new fanfic. I'm hoping to knock out at least 10k words a chapter on this, which is a very big departure from my usual way of doing things. I have many, many plans and ideas already fleshed out for "Gunsmith", and that means regular uploads. However, I am also currently back in classes at college and in the process of getting a job, so there will be times where the next upload is a little late.
If you're one of my "Drunken Stupor" regulars, don't worry, I'll be working on that too, but as I've mentioned about forty times. . .that's my experimental and 'artsy' stuff. When I hit a block, it really stops the whole thing for me.
Please, leave a comment telling me what you liked, hated or just saying hey. I'm pretty cool about whatever.
-Constantine
"It may be the wrong decision, but fuck it, it's mine."- House of Leaves, Mark Danieleski
Hey, so this is RoM here. I'm currently looking into classes and jobs too, so you'll have to bear with me. I help Con write his stuff, and edit it mostly. Ideas are from both of us though! Anyways, like Con said, we've hit a block with Drunken Stupor, and then we decided to start this beast of a story all of a sudden so enjoy and cut us some slack m'kay?
"It might just be water... BUT THAT'S ALL YOU NEED! WAHAHAHAHAHAH! WATER IS LIFE! BANZAI! BANZAI! BANZAI!" - -Reader-of-Many-