The day that Iwa, Sky, and Kumo attacked and destroyed Konoha, Naruto Uzumaki was wandering in the woods alone.
It was the day that Naruto Uzumaki learned of the Archfiend, the Shinigami, the Watcher over the Waves. The Ender. The Guardian of his People.
But that was later.
Regardless of the actual technicalities of the destruction of his village, like the fact that it was immediately obvious to anyone within a dozen miles that death was walking freely, the young Uzumaki was, at that moment, horsing around in the woods with none the wiser-he'd ditched his ANBU escort and pesky orphanage matron much earlier in the day. He was a precocious five at the time and had already decided that he liked it out here on the forested outskirts of Konoha, with no one to harass him or give him cold looks and food plentiful and not likely to be thrown in his face and hair, this place where the sun was shining and the deer weren't afraid to snuffle around his feet, looking for tasty morsels on the ground. They tickled him with the tiny hairs on the their noses and he giggled as it happened. It was routine for him, to revel in the outside. Forest denizens seemed to look at him askance for a moment, like they couldn't decide if he smelled human. Apparently, unlike the humans in his life, who he was didn't matter. He knew this because the obviously ravenous deer returned back to their search rather quickly-that is, until the explosions started. It was at this moment that the technicalities he'd overlooked about the death and destruction of everything he'd become used to in his short life made itself very apparent-primarily that it was loud, very loud, and there was a rather large potential for bodily harm visiting him. Queue the massive chakra bombs being dropped by iron fliers overhead. They simply looked to him like gigantic swarms of fireflies, the kind he chased in the woods. Being five, it was difficult to wrap his head around concepts like, 'a massive geo-political shift in the balance of power.' For that, any historian would be able to tell you after this day, was exactly what was happening.
Closer to genocide, but who was left to count?
Naruto had decided, only when he looked back on that pivotal day, a day so filled with death and destruction, that it really had been a perfect to walk in the woods. He would remember through all his days when he had first seen the gliders. Naruto had been humming and doing forward rolls in the grass when he saw them flying overhead, hundreds upon hundreds of golden-shelled flyers. He thought, at first, that they were a flight of really strange insects, but then the bombs started dropping...and he realized what they were.
He wasn't an idiot.
He knew they were under attack.
He just didn't know how bad it was until much later.
Naruto broke into a run, splashing through a muddy riverbank and into the woods on the opposite bank, further than he'd ever ventured before. His legs, short though they were, never seemed to tire or falter as he crashed through underbrush and bounced off tree-trunks in a kind of hopping sprint to get away to safety, like the old man had taught him. If those stupid animal mask dudes can't catch me, these guys won't!
Dattebayo!
The tree line broke and Naruto skidded to a stop, barely missing a wooden post engraved with swirls. He'd never noted this place before in his travails. Little did he know that at that moment, the fuuinjutsu ward structures were fracturing in Konoha Proper, revealing this hidden plot. Mouth dropping open as he gazed upon the grand Temple, it was the symbol, his symbol, that captivated his attention. The maelstrom, jiji had said it was the symbol of his mother's people, and it was carved into the gate of this pretty building. Why had nobody mentioned this to him? There were so many questions he'd had...even at five. Anybody would be curious, right?
It was a temple, a beautiful one at that. The red and white wood had a glossy finish to it, like someone had taken excellent care of it, sanding and polishing regularly. Two thick beams of oak held up a sloping entrance way marked with...marked with his symbol. The swirl, the maelstrom. What did that mean? Naruto scratched his head-was there more than just him? Jiji said he was the only one left!-and then flinched as a loud piercing scream sounded behind him, definitely in the woods with him.
He'd almost forgotten-he was supposed to be hiding!
Naruto barely took in the rest of the temple as he raced up the steps and crossed the darkened threshold. A weird feeling stole over him, like a cold shiver, passed through him and was gone as he continued into the interior of the place. He stopped dead.
Masks covered ever available surface of the shrine.
Happy ones, sad ones, horned ones, laughing ones, crying ones, terrifying ones, all in the same general shape as those animal mask guys that liked to chase him around Konoha. It left him with more of that strange, shivering feeling...like he was rediscovering something he'd forgotten.
More explosions sounded in the distance, closer to him now, accompanied by more screams. He could tell because he'd always remembered having excellent hearing. It helped, at times, to escape from his various pranks and their...aftereffects. But strangely enough, he wasn't happy to be hearing these screams. He knew the old man would be able to fight whoever it was off, he knew it. But Naruto had to fight the overwhelming urge to go help. He knew he'd just get in the way or...well, somebody might 'mistake' him for the enemy.
Accidents like that, he knew, tended to happen around him.
Naruto refocused, shaking off the unpleasant memories of his early years in the orphanage, and yanked his muddy sandals off, placing them gently by the doorway of the Temple. As he did so, the cold shivery feeling changed from a feeling like his hair standing up on the back of his neck, to a comforting one. Like a cold compress on a boo-boo, or an ice cold drink on a hot day. Relief. Safety.
His heart, uneasy from the attack, eased a bit. He felt...like he being welcomed home by something.
Perhaps it was that something caught his eye, just on the edge of his vision. Naruto finished taking off his orange jacket, folding it and placing it neatly against the door, on top of his sandals and turned back to what had caught his attention. A wall with one mask on it; this particular, peculiar, utterly terrifying mask was smiling. To Naruto it seemed...comforting. He walked closer to the far wall and noticed a lip at the edge of the board where the mask was attached. It held a dust-covered book, strangely thick in the center, like the pages were extra thick. Naturally, he couldn't help but open it up.
He couldn't help but gasp in delight and wonder. Pictures popped off the page, bold and bright in their color, as a scene played out in front of his eyes. It was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. It was the first time he'd ever seen a pop-up book, and Naruto knew he'd never, ever forget it.
The story, the kanji said, was that of the Three Brothers. Naruto knew he'd never heard this tale in the orphanage. They had story-time, sure, but this was a new one. Eagerly, he dove in. After all, what else was a five-year old supposed to do in the middle of an attack?
Naruto tried to ignore the faint screams and explosions he could hear in the distance.
Naruto began to read.
The tale begins a long, long time ago in the era of the warring clans. Naruto remembered this stuff from the Matron's history classes. It was, she'd said, a dark time where there were no cities that people lived in...just wandering tribes that fought and died in the wilderness, alone. Naruto shivered. It sounded horrible.
There were three brave, strong brothers who were the greatest warriors in their tribe; from oldest to youngest, Morihiba, Indra, and Asura. They were...Uzumaki? These were...my family? Naruto, unsettled a bit, but eager to hear more about his legendary family, continued reading.
It was said that they were single-handedly responsible for protecting their tribe, felling many warriors and ninja with their signature seal-mastery, powerful ninjutsu, and their weapon prowess. However, they could never rest, never relax as they were constantly beset by roving bands of raiders, marauders, and rival clans eager to steal their secrets and obtain the glory of finally ending one of the most powerful clans to ever live. Their allies, the Senju, were far away and couldn't help them, so they were forced to retreat...and retreat.
The Brothers were exhausted. They had fought forty battles in forty days and nights and hadn't gotten any sleep. They sought an end to the pain and suffering of their people because, as they grew more tired, they grew sloppier and couldn't protect as many people each time the enemy came. The youngest, Asura, proposed that they set sail and find a new land, somewhere where they could resettle and live in peace. Morihiba and Indra scoffed at their youngest brother stating that they simply needed more power to do what they wished-to become too powerful to attack, to force their enemies to leave them alone through overwhelming force. Asura was uneasy with this, he cautioned his brothers against unseemingly arrogance.
They did not listen.
Instead, they sought out their oracle, the Seeress Hinawari of the Twin Sight. It was said she could tell Prophecy and know things that were impossible. Asura, reluctant to persue the folly he knew his brothers would enact, went along in the hopes of talking some sense into them.
Hinawari Uzumaki foretold that no matter what they did, their clan was doomed to obliteration. They couldn't prolong the inevitable as she Saw their destruction. The Brothers refused to accept her pronouncement and pressed her for more, somehow, someway to save the thing they all loved the most. She, reluctantly told them of a way they could save the clan, but that it would cost them their lives. They would need to trap Death in a whirlpool and force him to serve them. He would grant them boons for doing this and with those boons, the Uzumaki clan would survive.
But of course, how could the Brothers refuse to try? When their clans very survival was at stake?
So, arming their cousins and wives and sisters and mothers, they left the fledgling Uzumaki clan to survive as best they could while the Brothers were gone and left to head towards the sea. The only known whirlpools were out west, in the archipelago known only as the Maelstroms.
Four days and four nights the three Brothers trekked, all the while devising the seals they would need to summon the Archfiend and bind him to a whirlpool where he'd be powerless against them. The Brothers, seal-masters that had no equal in the land, quickly devised a strategy that they believed would trap the Reaper and force him to give them what they wanted...a way to save the Uzumaki.
The morning sky was blood-red and purple when they arrived at the edge of the Maelstroms. It was an ill-omen, yet the Brothers pressed on. Asura grew uneasy, yet he persisted, determined to help his brothers. The three of them walked on the water and hefted five large boulders, painted with seals and found the largest whirlpool they could, anchoring the seals at five points along the outer edges of the swirling, rushing, unexplained vortices.
The legends stated that these swirling whirls of water, the symbols of their clan, were mini-portals to the underworld where all souls were judged and damned, or saved and reincarnated. The Throne-room of Yomi, but the Brothers didn't believe in Yomi, just his enforcer, the Reaper and it was he they would call upon today.
The Brothers stripped themselves and began the second stage of their plan, they painted themselves with seals that would hide them from the eyes of Death. Black hellish swirls covered every inch of their bodies and, when they finished, the Eldest, Morihiba, began the long string of handseals that would summon the Reaper to them.
With the last handseal completed, Tora, the battle began.
They say that every single clan on the continent felt the chakra of that battle. Most clans called it, "The Day of the Worldfire," as the chakra output burnt doujutsu within five hundred miles and crippled sensor ninja. The Brothers battled Death, who attempted to escape the trap the Brothers had concocted. But the trap held. And the Brothers won.
The white-haired, fanged apparition, cloaked all in white and submerged in the whirlpool, bowed his head to the Brothers Uzumaki, acknowledging their strength.
"I will grant you three boons for this feat. Step forward, one at a time, and do not speak above a whisper. I and I alone must know your wish."
So, as they'd always done, they stepped forward, kneeling on the sloping water. The Eldest went first and spoke in a harsh whisper, "I demand that you give me an object that would allow me to harness your power to protect my Clan!"
The Reaper smiled, all teeth, and spoke in a sibilant hiss, "As you wish, I will give you a mask made of my own skin and with it, you will know strength like you've never felt before." The Eldest smiled greedily and watched as the Reaper removed his own face, fangs and horns and all, and fashioned it into a Noh mask. The Brother took his boon and stepped away, cradling it in his hands like a child.
The Middle Brother stepped forward, nervous and sweating, and eyeing the mask the Eldest had been given with deep envy. His eyes darted back and forth as he leaned closed to the Reaper and spoke, "I want my family to be able to heal from any wound-even from time's ravages!" The Reaper's eyes narrowed as he listened to the Middle Brother's desperate plea.
"As you wish...I grant the Uzumaki a powerful spirit to rejuvenate them and enable them to heal from any wound-even the wounds time inflicts on a mortal body." A blissful smile crossed Indra's face as he stepped aside for Asura.
Death eyed Asura with undisguised glee. "Come, come young Uzumaki, tell me what miracle I can create for you. What is it that you wish?" Asura was silent, simply watching the Reaper's gleeful, demonic visage. Long-horns arching back from it's temples, the Tanto dangling in its mouth not seeming to ruin its pronunciation in the least.
Finally, after an eternity, Asura spoke, "What aren't you telling us about these gifts you give us? What price will we pay for the things we've gained?" The Reaper stopped smiling. Ice froze under their feet and the whirlpool ceased moving, encased in hoarfrost and rimed with permafrost.
The Reaper exploded in size, growing more vicious looking, angry. It's voice screamed like the voices ofa thousand tortured souls as it spat in Asura's face, "AM I NOT GENEROUS, UNGRATEFUL MORTAL? DO YOU NOT SEE THAT YOUR BROTHERS GOT WHAT THEY WANTED? SHALL I TAKE YOUR BOON FROM YOU, MINDLESS SCUM? AND LEAVE YOUR PEOPLE A RUINED HUSK?"
Asura, uneasy, but unafraid, simply bowed low and apologized. "I am sorry, Death God, that I have offended you... I merely wish to hear your price for these wonderful gifts." The Reaper could tell it was sincere, and everything went back as it was. The sky lightened, whirlpools rushed and frothed, and the Brothers let out the breath they were all holding.
The Reaper smiled again. "Now what was it that you wanted, Asura?"
Asura did not have to think long. He knew what he wanted above all else. "I want a place of peace for my people. A place that can speak to us, shelter us, and that we can call home. A place where none can harm us." The wisest answer by far, the Reaper nodded, stating that it was a wise choice. It was solemn nod, not mocking as it did to the other two.
"Wisdom is rare in mortals, young Asura. Pray follow it and lead these two to the path of balance before their prices come due."
Confused, the elder Brothers protested, raising blades and making threatening gestures, but the Reaper simply smiled cruelly. "To the Eldest I gave my power, beware, because while you wear it, violence will always follow you-blood trails in your wake. Be mindful." Turning, he addressed the middle Brother. "As for you, longevity is as much a curse as it is a boon. Your joys and your sorrows will last longer than you may know how to handle...and you've doomed your whole clan to this as well."
Turning to the last Brother, Asura, he smiled. "But your youngest Brother may have redeemed you all. He has asked for a place of peace for you all...so perhaps you may never need the mask...and may enjoy the longevity you so desired. Peace be upon you Asura. However, know this: if ever you turn on each other, if ever you let violence and hatred darken your hearts, violence WILL come to your people...and will obliterate you all."
The Death God's hand rose and rumbling started, like the hungry stomach of the land, as islands rose from the depths. The Reaper rose into the air, it's white tattered robes fluttering in the storms that suddenly appeared without warning.
"Your land will be known as Uzushiogakure, the Land Hidden Amongst the Whirlpools. This land will avoid Death's gaze far longer than most. But be warned! All power comes with a price! Heed my warnings!"
With a flash and a spark, and a flame in the sky, the Reaper was gone. The Three Boons had been granted and the Uzumaki had been saved.
For a time.
But all prices came due.
Naruto watched the Three Bother stand on the paper water for a long time. They were inked from head to toe in black squiggles. Seals, he thought. The whole thing was so remarkable, so frightening and amazing, that he almost forgot the battles raging on outside. Naruto closed the book, the three smaller figures and the Death God shivering and swiveling shut. A puff of dust rose from the cover of the book. He could just make out a swirl symbol on the front cover of the book. It was the same symbol he'd seen at times in Konoha, the same symbol he wore on his jacket. It was comfort, it was home, it was safety, it was identity.
And now he knew what it meant.
Uzushiogakure, huh?
As the Boy smiled, the Watcher's eye drew down from the heavens and the cyclical soul cycle beyond the ken of mortals, and Watched him, encouraging him to reach for the mask that drew the eye-a wildlydrawn, terrifying mask of the Reaper (skeletal, fanged), a Mask of Madness and Death-for he knew that the Uzumaki had discovered his most precious Gift. All was going according to plan. A siren song of desire floated towards the boy and drew his eye and his hands.
He watched as the boy drew the Mask of the End down from the shelf where it had lain amongst the junk for a hundred years and slowly...so slowly...put in on his face gingerly, testing it out...
...and a chakra bomb hit the ground outside the now exposed Temple.
The world went white.