Tucked in the study of the Hokage's manor, in the faint glow of a lit candle, Minato Namikaze-also known as the Yellow Flash-skimmed the latest reports on the B-rank-turned-S-rank mission when the team stumbled upon an illegal experimental facility. In the team's courageous attempt to free some of the subjects, one Genin was killed. As Hokage, it was his duty to aid the grieving family in any way possible-of course, even if he was not the Hokage, he would still help them out. He also had to find homes for the subjects and a new teammate to complete the three-Genin cell.

And prepare for an attack on the village, Minato thought. There was a high chance of retaliation after the destruction of the experimental facility.

His throat constricted. Breath leaving him entirely. Minato dropped the documents onto his desk and stood up. The chair clacked as it tipped back and forth. His legs moved. Out of the study. Up the stairs. To the room, next to his, at the end of the hallway. Wrenching the door open, Minato poked his head inside.

Though the room was submerged in darkness, Minato made out the silhouettes of a bookcase, a rocking chair, a toy chest, and a cradle. His ears detected soft breaths, and he stepped forward. Swaddled in a yellow blanket was his two month old son, Naruto. Blonde hair ruffled at the top of Naruto's small, round head. His striking blue eyes darted underneath their lids. And whisker marks sprawled across his slightly flushed cheeks.

Minato's eyes narrowed on the markings before traveling to his son's stomach. Underneath Naruto's cotton onesie, on the smooth skin surrounding his belly button, was the seal that bound the Kyuubi until the death of its owner. Shaking his head, Minato focused on his son's face again.

He would not think of his wife. Or the Third Hokage. Or the hundreds of citizens that perished on October 10th.

Minato rushed out of the room, shutting the door as quietly as possible. He turned and nearly collided with the third body that inhabited the Hokage manor. Dressed in a black tank-top and black slacks was Kakashi Hatake. Minato's only living student. His abnormally white hair disheveled from sleep, a black mask hid the majority of his face, and his eye-not the one donated by Obito Uchiha-drooped as he stared at Minato.

"I heard movement," was all Kakashi said.

"Sorry to have waken you," Minato laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "I wanted to check on Naruto." He looked over his student's frame. "How's the arm?"

Kakashi brought his right arm up, revealing a cream colored cast. During his last mission, he managed to shatter his forearm and two of his fingers. He received other injuries, but nothing as severe. Minato convinced his student to stay in the Hokage manor until he was completely healed.

"Fine," he drawled.

Minato knew he was only "fine" because of the pain medicine he shoved down Kakashi's throat.

"Are you heading to bed?" Kakashi asked.

"In an hour or two," he said. "I need to get some paperwork done before the funeral tomorrow. I promise to be more careful and not wake you up."

Kakashi nodded and turned to leave.

Minato almost called out to him, but he stopped himself. He wanted to ask his student if he would watch Naruto during the funeral-that he did not feel right holding his son in front of the parents who just lost their own. Yet, his obsession with keeping Naruto close-safe-withheld him from vocalizing his request.

"He's my responsibility," Minato whispered to himself.


Minato was beginning to hate white lilies. White was supposed to resemble purity and innocence. Yet, combined with a lily, it symbolized sympathy. Death.

He stood off to the side of the small crowd of people, watching as the pile of white lilies grew higher on the grave. The women wore black dresses, while he and the other men wore black suits. The only oddity was currently gurgling in his arms. Minato and his wife bought only light colored outfits for their son, never thinking that he would experience a funeral until he was much older. The royal blue onesie that Naruto wore was the only dark-enough outfit that Minato could find.

Of course, if his wife was alive, Naruto would have stayed with her at the Hokage manor.

No! His mind screamed. Don't think of her! He clenched his eyes shut and took several deep breaths. After he composed himself, he focused on the ceremony.

Mr. and Mrs. Kanyama stood next their son's grave. Dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, Mrs. Kanyama thanked each person who stepped forward, dropped a lily, and expressed their condolences. Arm draped across his wife's shoulders, Mr. Kanyama glared into the distance-stubble peppered the skin around his lips.

An hour passed, and the ceremony ended. Minato waited until most of people cleared the graveyard before approaching the couple, still standing next to their dead son. His heart pounded faster and faster the closer he got. He finally stood over the pile and gently placed his lily on top. After saying a quick prayer, Minato surveyed the parents. Mr. Kanyama ignored him completely, still staring down an invisible enemy. His wife, short and plump, wasted no time greeting him.

"Thank you for coming, Lord Hokage," she bowed her head. "I see you brought your…" her voice trailed off.

"Yeah, I-I couldn't find a babysitter," his tongue felt dry as he spoke.

"May I hold him?" her voice was barely audible.

Minato's grip on his son tightened. He wanted to say no. That she was not allowed to hold his son and pretend he was her own. Minato noted her trembling arms-she would surely drop him. And her oily face, tangled hair, and red-rimmed eyes proved her instability.

Mrs. Kanyama must have sensed his distrust for she backed off, apologizing for her boldness. She wiped her hands on the skirt of her dress and chuckled.

"I always wanted Hikaru to follow his daddy's footsteps," she said. "Make shinobi weapons. That he would be doing this village good by supporting shinobi. Yet, he wanted to do more than just make weapons. He wanted to be a shinobi. So we let him, figuring that he would gain discipline, a fair amount of money, and a successful future," she laughed, hollowly. "I guess us civilians are not as prepared for death as you shinobi."

A tingling sensation crept along Minato's legs, back, and arms. His mouth opened and closed, wondering what he could say. His eyes darted to the framed picture of Hikaru Kanyama. The thirteen-year-old smiled widely at him, eyes glistening with excitement. It reminded him so much of...

"We shinobi think we are prepared, but we're not," Minato's voice cracked.

"You've lost a loved-one?" she asked.

"Many," he admitted. "Comrades, students," he paused. "My wife."

A wave of grief hit him, almost causing his knees to buckle. The urge to tell Mrs. Kanyama about his wife overpowered his being. And so he did. Minato told her how they met, the events that led up to their friendship, and when they shared their first kiss. He described how he felt when they tried to hide their relationship, even though they lived together. Everything poured out. The wedding. Learning of the pregnancy. The Kyuubi attack. Mrs. Kanyama listened raptly.

"The shinobi life is dangerous," Minato said. "My wife and I knew that we'd die in battle one day. However, when it finally happened, my entire world ended."

"What's her name?" Mr. Kanyama asked, finally breaking his silence.

Minato licked his lips. He had not said his wife's name since her death. Nor did he speak about her. Too afraid that the reconstructed village of his mind would come under attack again. Yet, talking to these strangers felt good. They lifted weight off his chest. Two more people knew of his wife's contribution to this world.

"Kushina Uzumaki-Namikaze."

Nodding, Mr. Kanyama stared off again; though, no longer glaring. His body relaxed. Minato wondered if the man felt relieved to be in the presence of someone suffering as much as he was.

"Would you like to hold Naruto?" Minato asked Mrs. Kanyama, suddenly.

She smiled, lifting her arms up. Minato passed his son to her, watching for any signs of harm. Mrs. Kanyama cooed and jiggled the two-month-old baby. Her eyes filled with love and happiness. Mother's instinct, Minato thought.

After a couple minutes, whimpers escaped from Naruto's mouth. Mrs. Kanyama handed him back to Minato, claiming that his son wanted him. They said goodbye and parted ways. Minato hugged Naruto close to his chest.


They passed Konoha's MIA memorial stone when Minato spotted Kakashi tracing one of the names with his thumb. He's visiting Obito, Minato thought. He headed towards his student. Naruto fussed, but Minato ignored him.

"How long have you been here?" Minato stood beside his student.

"A while," said Kakashi.

"I'm going to see Kushina. Wanna come with me?" he asked. "I haven't been to the grave since we buried her."

"Neither have I," Kakashi looked down as if ashamed of his admission.

"Well, let's hurry," Minato freed one hand from his squirming son and rested it on Kakashi's shoulders. "I'm pretty sure Naruto's cries will wake the dead."


A/N: If there is any information in this fic that is wrong, I apologize. I am still trying to catch up with the Naruto series. Thank you so much for reading.