Breath of Silence
Disclaimer: Naruto does not belong to me.
Namikaze Minato is colder than he has ever been when he wakes, though the Shinigami's impure fire burns in his lungs. It tastes of snakes and the taint of Uchiha blood in his mouth as he stands, feeling the slick chakra settling around him.
He wears a body that is not his own and his skin tingles like is has been stretched over a frame too large.
This he knows, the control which stretches like a thread from his false form to his predecessor's and successor's errant student. A web of chakra writhes under his bones and behind his eyes as he watches. Edo Tensei.
A dark-eyed Uchiha child stands to one side, and Minato can sense his distorted chakra filled with traces of Orochimaru's. And another chakra, one which is too obviously Uzumaki, though edged with something with could be his own.
Namikaze Naruto. The name comes unbidden and it is wrong. Uzumaki Naruto, perhaps.
Orochimaru is speaking, eyes gleaming as the four great Hokages, one time protectors of Konohagakure stand before him. His younger companions watch with wide eyes and agitated chakra. Minato listens and waits. He has spent nearly sixteen years in the Shinigami's stomach. He knows deception and he knows sacrifice. He knows patience and silence. He knows Naruto.
Author's note: This was essentially my impression after reading manga chapter 618.
