Prologue
Captured Part 1
NOTE: This is an old work, written when I was a junior in high school(I'm a sophomore in college now), and it hasn't been edited, I just want to post it in its entirety, it's been too long since its original posting.
NOTE 2: This is almost entirely canon-compliant. It was written as character building/companion for If He Lived but can be read by itself.
BACKGROUND: This is before Minato is born and focuses on his father, Masao.
BACKGROUND 2: Masao is nine and Osamu, his brother, is seven. At the very beginning of the First Shinobi World War. The Namikaze are a nomadic clan who primarily take messages between monks. They are currently resting outside a temple near a newly-founded Konoha while the adults work for the monks. Unlike in the other clans of the era, the Namikaze remain neutral in conflicts, but tolerate no attacks on themselves or those harboring them. Masao is the heir to the clan and future leader while Osamu is considered the spare. Children of the clan fulfill day-to-day chores alongside the elderly and do not begin their shinobi training until they are fifteen, though they practice extensively in chakra control, mental strength, and intelligence as soon as they are able.
(-)
"Nii-san! I found something really cool! You got to come see!" Osamu tugged at his older brother.
"What is it?" Masao responded curiously, but not looking up from the bush as he struggled to extract berries out of its thorny branches without mutilating his hand.
"It's a tree!"
"There's trees everywhere!" The elder brother knelt down and dropped a handful of berries in a small basket.
"No! It's a tree shaped really cool!"
"What kind of shape?"
"You'll see. It has writing on it too!"
"What does it say?"
"I don't know! It's in funny letters like the ones To-san was teaching you this morning."
"Really?" Masao snaked his hand out of the bush, ignoring the thin cuts from his elbow to fingertip.
Abandoning the basket, Masao raced after his little brother, ducking through the foliage in an impromptu game of tag.
"See? See? See?" Osamu exclaimed suddenly, stopping in his tracks. In front of him, two thick trees grew an arm's length apart before twining together just above Masao's head. The larger of the two trunks sported a thick scar. As the two boys approached cautiously, it turned into a hollow just large enough for a handful of children to sit comfortably inside. Beside the partially-hidden entrance, letters were burned into the wood. Masao approached, curiosity blinding him to the suspicious circumstances and possible danger.
Mouthing the words, Masao struggled to decipher the writing. "It says 'look inside' but it's not To-san's handwriting, do you think it's someone else's?" Turning back to his brother, Masao's eyes widened suddenly, his hand forming the sign for danger. Osamu bolted back the way he came, Masao directly on his heels, one hand on his brother's back to help him keep his balance. Before they managed to escape the miniature clearing, two figures descended on the boys. Some instinct made Masao rush ahead of his brother and fling the smaller boy into the woods, propelling himself back towards the attackers. "Osamu! Get To-san!" Masao cried as the smaller boy flew out of sight as the attackers slammed him into the ground, twisting his arm behind his back so forcefully that his shoulder, elbow, and wrist dislocated. The nine-year-old screamed in pain, trying to writhe out of the grip, but the adult ninja held him firmly.
"You need not be so rough, Madara, he's just a boy."
"Why did you let the other one go?"
"He'll tell the rest of his clan what happened and we should be able to contact them sooner."
"Hashirama—"
"Give me the boy, you're no good with kids. I'll take him back while you wait here. We've been trying to contact this clan for months, but it's like they disappear whenever we get close—"
"Fine, I'll leave the message and you can deal with the brat. What's his name?"
"The other boy called him Nii-san."
"That's not his name, you idiot. What's your name, gaki?" Madara demanded, digging his nails into Masao's back.
In a twist which caused even more damage to his arm, Masao managed to slip out from underneath Madara and force the ninja to release him of risk tearing off the boy's arm. Masao tried to run, but Hashirama caught him by the collar, jerking him back and wrapping a strong arm around the boy's neck.
"Easy does it, kid, I'm not going to hurt you if you cooperate."
Masao jabbed his elbow into Hashirama's thigh, causing to ninja to grunt and tighten his grip.
"You're too soft," Madara rolled his eyes.
"Traumatizing the kid will only turn his clan against us."
"Kidnapping him will turn them against us." Madara grabbed the boy's chin and forced him to look into his Sharringan.
Masao screamed, immediately dispelling the illusion and swinging a kick at Madara's head. Only superior experience kept the strike from falling.
"That's enough," Hashirama interrupted before Madara could retaliate. "The message is in the hollow, hopefully, we'll get a response soon."
"And if they manage to track us instead?"
"You're so pessimistic!"
"I'm cautious, we might be good, but I'm not going to pit myself against an enraged clan."
"If the rest of the clan is as smart as this boy and his brother, they will hear us out first."
"And if he happens to be the son of the clan head? You remember how my father was and how yours could get."
"I don't think these people are like that. They work almost exclusively for religious monks and bet they have no known history in warfare."
"Your gambling habits are going to get someone in serious trouble."
Hashirama opened his mouth to retort, and Masao took full advantage of the distraction, twisting to face the ninja with a sharp strike to his solar plexus. He could have struck a tree for all the difference it made against the ninja's armor. With a firm grip on the boy's good arm, Hashirama pulled him into a powerful Shunshin. Madara rolled his eyes and followed.
"Mito is going to murder you for something," Madara noted as they stopped in front of the village gates.
"She's too nice to do something like that," Hashirama retorted.
"Hashirama!" A woman's voice screeched.
"I take that back," he amended.
"I have clan affairs to attend to," Madara excused himself.
"What have you done to that little boy?" Mito demanded.
"He's a hostage," Hashirama responded, standing tall under the woman's wrath.
"He's not even trained! Let him go, this instant!"
"I can't Mito, this boy is important to secure our safety."
"Then go turn your son over to that boy's parents!"
"Mito!" Hashirama responded sternly.
Her temper dampened. "At least give him medical attention," she ground out, following him closely.
"I'm not a barbarian, Mito, I'll do it personally."
The woman Shunshined back into the village and gave Hashirama no choice but to follow, pulling the listless boy behind him.
(-.-)
"He hasn't moved for ages," Mito told her husband as he slipped off his shoes.
"Meditating?"
"I think so."
Hashirama walked down to the end of the front hall and looked into the last room. In the center of the mostly empty room, Masao knelt seiza-style, his palms turned upwards and resting on his thighs, face tilted upwards. Black lines encircled both wrists and a seal glowed on his abdomen, his shirt discarded a few feet in front of him. "His family works for the monks, maybe they taught him something," Hashirama concluded, closing the door.
"The monks don't share their secrets."
"Then he must be attempting a clan technique of some sort, the seal is stopping him from doing something with his chakra."
"The seal is near its breaking point."
"Not even I can generate enough chakra to break one of those seals, you're being paranoid."
"He's not trying to break the seal; he's working around it and succeeding. I didn't even think that was possible."
"Mito, relax, he's just a boy, still injured at that. He can't hurt anyone."
"You're an idiot, Hashirama, at his age, you and Madara were already fighting adults and winning."
"Normal kids can't do that."
Mito's face connected with the man's face. "A normal kid can't break a Chakra-binding seal with Chakra."
"That hurt, Mito-chan, did you use chakra or something?"
"That's an idea, maybe I should. Next time it might puncture that ego you have, O almighty god of shinobi."
"Shouldn't you try and use that Chakra to make me feel better rather than beating my head in?"
"You know that's impossible."
"Right."
"What do you think kid? Do you think Chakra can heal someone as well as it can hurt them?"
Masao glared at her, standing stiffly in the doorway, millimeters away from the barrier imprisoning him in the room. His eyes flickered between them, but only narrowed his eyes disdainfully. Bending down to the boy's level, Hashirama looked him directly in the eye.
"I like you, boy, even if you would prefer me dead at your feet," Hashirama commented.
Masao's face whitened in horror and he began to shake his head before he regained his composure. The action made Hashirama smile.
"You're a good kid, no matter what anyone says. I apologize for taking you away from your brother.
Osamu was his name, correct?"
Masao stiffened.
"I have a little brother too."
Masao's blank expression turned into a glare.
"If you want to see him again, there is something I need from you."
Masao's gaze hardened.
"You're a smart kid, I can tell. You tell me what I need to know and this can all go away."
Hashirama waited for a response, but the boy's expression never changed.
"I'm not asking you to betray your clan; I just need some information so I can figure out how best to talk to them without inciting bloodshed."
Masao took a step forwards and placed his hand on the barrier imprisoning him. He closed his eyes and the adults watched him curious. Slowly, with immense concentration, Masao pushed his fingers, then his entire hand through the barrier. Mito's eyes widened, absolutely stunned. Hashirama's brow furrowed as he tried to work out what Masao did. A pulse of chakra, powerful enough to encompass the entire village and a few miles beyond, tore through his hand, leaving his skin horribly burned. He screamed once in pain, jerking his hand back and holding it tightly against his chest. "I don't care what you do. I won't tell you anything!"
Backing into the corner furthest from the door, Masao glared at them, defiant, but trembling in pain while Mito slammed the door shut in panic.
"I'm sure you don't need to—"
"I was wrong, Hashirama, I'm sorry I shouted at you, that boy is as dangerous as you are. As soon as he falls asleep, I'm going to put high-risk prisoner seals on him."
"You're overreacting; he was raised practicing the same peace I'm trying to build. Once I explain that to him, he'll cooperate."
"Don't bet on that."
"It's done me good so far."
(-.-)
"Can you hear me?"
"Yes."
"Can you see anything?"
"No."
"Can you feel your restraints?"
"Yes."
"Do you know how many people are in this room?"
"No."
"Do you know who I am?"
"No."
"Do you know where you are?"
"No."
"Do you know why you're here?"
"Yes."
"Why are you here?"
No answer.
"What is your name?"
"Namikaze Masao."
"What is your rank?"
"Civilian."
"How old are you?"
"Nine."
"What is your father's name?"
No answer.
"Answer the question!"
No answer.
"What is your mother's name?"
No answer.
"How many siblings do you have?"
No answer.
"Who does your family work for?"
No answer.
"What's your favorite color?"
No answer.
"What's your favorite game to play?"
No answer.
"How many fingers do you have?"
No answer.
"What color is your hair?"
No answer.
The interrogator stood and studied the boy lying front of him on the metal slab, wondering if he had fallen asleep. She discarded the theory as he noticed the elevated heart rate and chilled trembling. Frowning, the interrogator's eyes narrowed, making a mental note to have a long chat with the individual responsible for preparing the boy for questioning. Child or not, he had not been stripped, or even searched, not that a standard search would have found the ninja wire embedded underneath the skin of his wrist, but it would certainly have found the slender blade sewn into the seam of his shorts.
She approached and brushed away a strand of hair from Masao's sweaty forehead. He jerked away from her touch. After a minute, she began a thorough search, tearing the ninja wire out from underneath his skin and leaving the wound to bleed. Masao gritted his teeth.
"I may not be allowed to permanently harm you, but until my questions are answered, you'll find out exactly how much damage I can cause."
With a massive surge of chakra, Masao broke out of his restraints and rolled off the table, dashing out of reach. On instinct, the interrogator surged forward to catch the escapee, but Masao turned around with impossible agility. Snatching a short tantō out of the surprised interrogator's hand, Masao swung himself onto the interrogator's back as ninja flooded in behind him, weapons ready.
"Turn around," Masao ordered the interrogator, who obeyed slowly.
The boy shifted his weight backwards and stood on his captive's belt with his knees pressed against her shoulder blades.
"If anyone attacks, she dies. If I lose my balance, she dies. If anyone makes a sudden movement, she dies. If you don't do exactly what I say, she dies. I could continue but I think you get my point. Before you say anything, I know if she dies, I probably will too, but a life for a life is exactly what you're trying to stop, Shodaime Hokage Senju Hashirama, correct?" Masao mocked.
Hashirama stepped past the ninja and opened his mouth to speak when Masao cut him off.
"No, I don't care what you have to say. I want to go home, and you're gonna let me!"
"Then let her go," Hashirama said firmly.
"You're a ninja. Ninja lie."
"I won't go back on my word."
"You're not moving out of my way," Masao answered, ignoring the oath and tightening his grip.
"There's chakra in that blade, Hashirama," Madara warned from the Hokage's shoulder.
"I don't need your fancy eyes to see that."
"Get out of my way!" Masao screamed. No one moved.
"You're not going to kill him, boy."
"Try me," Masao snarled. His free arm snaked around the interrogator's bicep and he jerked, shattering the woman's shoulder before anyone could react. She screamed in pain but remained standing. "Do I have your attention now?"
"You've always had my attention," Hashirama responded steadily.
"Then get out of my way."
Hashirama stepped to the side and everyone else followed his example.
"Now, walk out of here," Masao ordered.
The interrogator could do nothing but listen. The instant she stepped out of the interrogation building, Masao raced away, barely making it to the half-built likeness of Hashirama's face before a flash of light halted him in his steps. A younger shinobi wielding a staff skidded to a stop on his left. Masao's blue eyes met the man's in front of him and he darted between the shinobi clad in blue armor and the staff-wielding one.
"Hiruzen!" The first ninja shouted in annoyance as he found himself deflecting the staff instead of catching Masao. The boy grabbed the belt of the man in blue armor and swung himself onto his back, the stolen tantō pressed against his throat.
With all the power a nine-year-old boy could muster, Masao commanded, "Use that jutsu to take me as far from here as you can."
"Don't move, Tobirama," Hashirama contradicted. "Calm down, Masao-kun."
Masao only tightened his grip, drawing blood.
"What the hell did you do this time, Hashirama?" Tobirama demanded. The elder brother flinched. The sudden movement plucked Masao's tightly wound nerves and he reflexively jerked the tantō across Tobirama's throat. A quick Kawarimi saved the younger Senju at the last possible second and with a firm grip on Masao, used his Hiraishin to comply with the boy's demand and appeared outside one of the smaller gates of the village.
Masao tried to flee, but Tobirama wrapped his arms around the boy, immobilizing the tantō. "Calm down," he stated with absolute authority. Immediately, the boy stilled. "Good. What did my idiot brother do this time?"
"I wanna go home!" Masao whined, beginning to squirm in the ninja's grip.
"Fine," Tobirama released the boy. Masao stumbled away, but something compelled him to stop and look back. "What happened, kid?"
Masao raced away, circling the perimeter of Konoha until he reached a familiar place, following his own trail back through the forest with tear-filled eyes. Exactly an hour later, Masao stumbled into his clan's meeting, tears streaming down his face as the emotions from his ordeal crashed over him. Scratches covered his legs and he left bloody footprints with every step. The tantō he brandished in front of him blindly. Leaves, sweat, blood from his hands, and mud from falling matted his hair and dulled the bright blond. His shirt hung miles behind him, dangling from a greedy tree branch. Without even slowing down, the boy flung the tantō aside and collided with his father, wrapping his thin arms around the man's neck.
"You're safe now, musuko, you're safe," the father repeated in the boy's ear, holding him tightly and casting a bewildered look at his clan mates. "What happened? Where were you? Osamu said you turned into a shadow!"
Masao stilled and looked back the way he came out of the corner of his eye. "No!" he responded after a long silence, clinging tighter to his father, who bit back his demand for an explanation.
