Dictatorship was hard.
Outsource of power is out of the question inside a military regime that bases itself in theatricality and deception to rule absolute amidst enemies.
One could not confine to the misgivings of trust within a land where the exchange of sure footing for something so meager as faith meant your demise, more so in a political setting.
To hold all responsibility meant effective and efficient compromise to rapid action, necessary for the rule of a nation.
Uzumaki Naruto knew this to the teeth, baring bone and flesh to bear the responsibilities that came with the title of Hokage. Paperwork included.
It was messy. It wasn't exclusively entertaining. Hokage meant to subject oneself to an administrative position that played out to be the equivalent of a real-life Shogi match to contest against economics, nature, society and foreign political forces.
Play your paws wrong, and the king's safety will be compromised.
Play them much wrong, and you've lost the game.
Decide on a shakeable trading agreement with another village, inflation may rise. Poverty and hunger escalate.
Position a military outpost in the wrong area at the wrong time, war is waged. People bleed and die.
As a toddler, he never imagined the weight of the responsibilities that would be laid upon his shoulders if this goal of his played out correctly.
He had desired connections and acceptance at first, not bricks and blocks of stressful decision-making management.
Times change. People as well. He was a testament to that.
What am I looking for?
Both old and new adages of scrolls could be found fleeting from floor to walls around the office. The juxtaposition of a tidy and organized desk amidst a storm of paper and silk could impress so much.
The Lord 7th left his pen to be, his attention on the outskirts of the land of books, a quite messy one for that matter. Shikamaru had advised against disorder, but what could he do. He was a force of nature on the battlefield. It seemed it fitted him to be of an equal mess in his workplace.
His feet carry him to the nearest shelf of tomes, and he picks a book without as much of a glance. The latest records of recent international trades Konoha has been involved greets him with pleasure. Trades raging from weaponry to crops and food are visible amongst many columns of numbers, the accountability of it all registered for him to see.
He had gotten good with numbers over the years, thank the patience of Kakashi to tutor him on the matters of finances. Konoha had safely prospered under the reign of the Sixth even within a landscape of uncertainty, and that called for recognition.
Kurama's surge of chakra surprises him as he's reading. A migraine at the back of his mind, one ignored since the dawn of morning, disappears without leaving a trace.
The trails of exhaustion have started to crawl up your feet.
You've been going at it nonstop since two days ago.
He stole a glance at the clock. It struck at two after midnight. It had been thirty-four hours since he had arrived for duty.
The shots of caffeine and tailed-beast influence had made his life much more manageable. His work capacity and output had always been impressive; the number of tasks he dealt with on a daily basis would tax even the most composed and focused.
To have a force of nature sealed in his gut only made it possible to bear.
I'm okay, Kurama. There isn't room for concern.
But there is, actually. You demand of your body something that is unnatural to it.
Your cortisol levels have risen considerably, and there'll be chemical imbalances to bear if you continue as you are, chakra circuits left ignored.
My sole presence is what has impeded the backlash. You need rest.
Just as he was about to retort, Tori made an entrance to the office in the form of a body flicker. He acknowledged the presence of the bird agent with a nod, meanwhilst he reached out inside, extending his senses and perception to otherworldly levels.
Business came first.
–Report
–We've received intel from Suna. There's been a civil revolt in the borders of Wind Country, barely close to River. –At this, the soldier stood up, lying a scroll of reports by the main desk. –It's been contained, but local authorities suggest there could be another one forming.
Naruto stole a glance at his village. The stars embraced the night as a coat for winter, bringing comfort amidst the cold air.
–The political landscape of Wind has been shaking from a few months back. What's the situation with the Daimyo?
–His position is unknown. We believe he's gone secluded inside the walls of Suna, seeking protection and political leverage.
–Adversaries may threaten to take chances. His head is called for. Is the Kazekage still within Iwa?
–He's on his way home. The summit concluded as soon as the news got there.
–Gaara isn't one to risk the long-term growth of Suna for petty issues. If he excused himself from the Summit, there is a high-risk stage at play. Prepare a diplomatic convoy. If necessary, we'll aid where we can.
–Sir. –Excusing himself, the ANBU soon vanished from sight, no trace of his presence behind to the average man.
As soon as he felt his solder arrive at headquarters, he did much as blink. Cross-shaped irises stared at him through the reflection of the glass window. The sagehood left by the Nine-Tomoe Erudite did not calm the storm raging inside his mind.
There'll be a call to the council no sooner than later. It was a matter that had to be further discussed. It wasn't Wind only, or Suna for that matter. All countries could be affected.
Economic instabilities brought by a coup were ones of the most grave. Konoha knew as much about it with the Uchiha crisis.
When the hidden villages are in a state of cohesion not ever seen before, when peace is right around the corner, the powers-that-be could not risk the chance of losing such status-quo.
Uzumaki Naruto closed his eyes and listened to a triad of beating hearts, his senses extend to scopes beyond inhuman capabilities. Their rhythmic pulses served to calm his nerves as morphine sooth an unbearable pain.
These sounds had turned to be his favorite sort of musical orchestra, always listened to before taking part in any decision.
Unlike him, his family slept unaffected by the dilemmas of a country many miles away.
Until the choice was out of his control, it would always stay like that.
Naruto…
I'll leave it for you to take care of the backlash, Kurama. We've got work to do.
The voice of an omnipotent fox stayed shut while he conversed with all the political figures of his circle, the matter of Wind at the forefront of their minds. The nagging headaches and discomfort soon turned to an ignorable distraction, Kurama's influence taking its dutiful position.
Exhaustion would crawl up to him, but his home would never face danger.
Hinata woke up to the sound of the shower.
The dim light of the moon made strokes across the walls of the room. She surmised it was past midnight. Boruto and Himawari slept at both her sides, their faces displaying peace like no other.
Reaching out inside clusters of chakra tenketsu, she felt the near presence of her husband. A disregarded sentiment of void went away as his sunshine presence invaded her senses. He was home.
Leaving the warm comfort of her toddlers in the hands of a blanket, she ambled towards the bathroom. A faint golden light escaped through the gap under the door, cutting throw the shadows. She peered it open, the light almost blinding her.
The man she'd known for years as her husband stood with her back to her, the gentle trail of water showering him from head to toe. He rested an arm on the wall to support himself, his legs all but tense. Amidst the glaringly visible exhaustion, Naruto stood unperturbed, stoic.
Many scars trailed down his back, remnants of battles way too brutal for Kurama to heal appropriately. It was funny, really, how she sometimes forgot about the countless times those shoulders had bared the destiny of the world on their own.
Taking note of her presence, he peered at her behind his shoulders. The bags under his eyes did not prevent them from striking true at her sight, his blue gaze unwavering.
She had learned his nuances, the little things that made Naruto Naruto. How he, for example, would always display the likes of a poker face when confronted with stress, or how he would present calculating coldness and shut his mouth in high-risk situations. Tiny details so foreign of him, for one that always lived with his emotions on display.
–I'm relieved to see you well, hime. –He looked down while heaving a sigh, a bittersweet smile on plastered on his face. –Your bentos have been my respite of pleasure amongst many troublesome hindrances. Thank you.
–You sound just as Shikamaru, darling. –She smiled, quite happy to have him talk instead of the wall of silence he conjured. –What would Temari say in regards to that, I wonder.
He chuckled, more aloof than a minute ago. –Maybe roll her eyes and berate him for it. She has enough to deal with already, husband and son included. Join me, maybe?
It wasn't much of a suggestion in Naruto's eyes. It was more so an indirect command, a yearning for the comfort and warmth Hinata brought to him in times of tremendous stress.
She did not make herself wait. A moment later, the two partners found themselves below the pleasant trail of water, both enjoying the warmth of their intimacy.
–Your son was such a sun, yesterday. –Naruto perked up, his eyes slowly peering open while Hinata trailed her fingers through his hair, massaging it with care. –Shino took the class away for community services purposes, gardening, in fact. They worked until afternoon at the local hospital tending to the flowers. He came home with a pair of Amaryllises for Himawari and I. You had to see her smile of wonder.
–Worth beyond splendid beauty, –quoted Naruto, remembering the significance of that particular type of flower. –He must have asked Inojin for that one, the little brat. We have a ladies' killer in the makings, Hinata.
–He's turning to be quite the attentive boy, yes. He's got a few great examples to learn from, after all. –She turned for the shampoo, taking a handful of it to wash his husband's hair. She resumed her administrations just as quickly. –He'll be better than the two of us no sooner than later. Both of them will.
–Kurama suggests we trap Boruto in an orange jacket of his own and with enough Kage Bunshin to tear the village monument down just for the heck of it. He's taken after you so much; so unlike how I was back as a kid.—Naruto leaned into her hands without hesitation whilst she laughed, knots and lumps of stress leaving him by the result of her touch and angelical voice.
-I don't know the math, but it seems I'm to be dethroned. Himawari will be worse, though. –He chuckled as if remembering an inside joke. His daughter's pinpoint accuracy with the Byakugan was dangerous, if not otherworldly.
–Has he also suggested to slow down your pace? –Naruto did not stiffen at her inquiry, nor he displayed any emotion at the abrupt change of subject and tone. He breathed out slowly, peering at her with hooded eyes. –I don't need the augmented perception of the Byakugan to see how tired your body is. The fact you haven't fallen down on the spot is a testament to your resilience.
–I guess your magnetism is enough to keep me going.
She took ahold of his cheeks, caressing the whiskers with tenderness and care. –This is no joke, nor a marathon, darling. Overtaxing yourself in short bursts will burn you out. For more amazing you are, you have a cap as well. You're only human. –She pinched his nose, gaze stern. –Not even a force of nature inside you can change that. No offense, Kurama.
–None taken, he says. –He glanced down, pausing for a bit to garner his thoughts. –I'm too much of a knucklehead to slow down, too much of a reckless fool with my own health, and too much tired to retort to your counsel. There have been many complications unresolved, many necessities to attend, and many international crises to prevent. Sometimes I can deal with it unscathed, sometimes not.
He sighs, just the act of remembering it all taking a toll on him, she surmises. His expression turned worn as if he had suddenly aged abruptly, as a sage crippled by the many experiences life has burdened him with.
He takes her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. –You and the kids, you are my place of respite. Punish me afterward, Hinata. Right now, let me be selfish enough to enjoy your soothing presence without words spoken on such matters. I need only as much.
She looks at him, pensive. His blue eyes are rarely seen as pleading as in this occasion. He is always the one moving the strings and mountains for others, quite literally so in both orders.
Stripped of acceptance and love early in life, Naruto made everything in his grasp to maintain and strengthen the relationships he formed throughout the years. His bond with Sasuke proved as much to the lengths he would go for those he held dear.
Selfishness wasn't typical in Naruto. It was a phenomenon just as uncommon as snow pouring down on a beach. Atypical, yes, but not impossible.
–Okay. –She had said, always the comprehensive one. –Do not believe you've escaped lecture yet, though.
He chuckled, his eyes taking an elated glint. –I'm used to scoldings, hime. I've been given a bunch of them all my life. Yours are no different.
Just as she was about to retort, he stole a kiss from her, all wet and damp. He separated a seconds after, their noses barely touching.
–But from yours, I know I'll learn well.
Water continued falling.
Morning came swiftly, the rays of the sun raking above the Hokage Rock with enormous glee. Families started the day early, and soon enough, business and commutes were running in high-gear. Konoha was up and running, and everyone was eager or obliged to work and start.
Himawari was one of such people. She raised from slumber in a cocoon of warmth that spread throughout all her being. Her brother was at her side, both of them enveloped by mom's personal blanket.
Making the least amount of sound possible, she disentangled herself from the comfort of the bed, her interest located in the nearest bathroom.
Tiptoeing away from the room, she strolled through the hall with no little amount of grogginess. With an incredible urge to yawn, she stopped midway to do as much, stretching all the while. Her back popped with a satisfying sound, and she giggled at the sound of it.
With more precise awareness and about to resume her stroll for nature's call, she noticed the master's bedroom-door open at her right. Her mom must have switched places after they fell asleep, she mused.
Curious, she sneaked a glance inside. A mop of yellow hair caught her attention immediately, and her eyes went full with delight.
Her mom slept contently, embraced by the arms of the boy she loved most besides his brother.
Nature's call forgotten, she stealthily entered the room with trepidation, not daring to wake her mother up.
Her father? Oh, no. Her father would wake up this instant. She wanted a hug.
Climbing up the bed with a lot of effort, she found herself faced with the broad back of the person in question, cocooned by a multitude of warm blankets in a makeshift human furnace.
She padded her way to his side, her vision immediately hazing at the comfort his presence brought to her senses. She was well-rested, but it wasn't every day she had the chance to rest at the side of her favorite orange bear in sleep.
Hug forgotten, she took delight in cuddling next to him. Konoha could wait a few minutes for her exuberance.
Boruto raised from slumber with the urge to hit something.
No matter what everyone said on the issue—he would find it justified that if he woke up with such an urge, he had the right to hit whatever thing popped him up from slumber.
His father wouldn't agree.
–Ouch, ouch, you brat…!
He would later be surprised when the victim in question invited him on a trip to the floral gardens of Konoha, his sister and mom joining along.
He was confused. He had just hit him square in the chin. Hard, for that matter.
Let it be known to the whole world that he was one of the strongest kids, for his age at least.
Well, no biggies. Fathers were apparently like that.
Taking a quick shower while not forgetting to make a mess in the process, Boruto got as ready as he could for what promised to be the picnic of a lifetime, if he was to guess with the amount of food her mother was preparing.
–No ramen for dad, mom? –He looked up from the basket, his eyes trailing to the view of the white pearl orbs that her mother was known for.
She offered him a quick smile. –I offered to cook a little for him, but he refused. I was just as surprised.
Humming in interest, Boruto glanced at his dad. He had forgone his usual orange jacket for a navy-blue long shirt, more of a low profile than usual.
If the legend was to be gone by, his father had more or less become a synonym of exuberance and preposterous levels of loud in the mind of his village, but he couldn't place him in such lot. The man was the perfect picture of prudence—confident in every step he took, in every gaze he held, in every act he made. If he was loud, it was in presence and spirit. No matter where he went, he just grabbed everyone's attention like a magnet.
He would admit, only in those times of retrospection and only to himself, that he was jealous of that attention. He could care less about dad's popularity by now—he was happy and proud of him, yes, but nothing brought forth more giddiness out of him than his care and praise.
He was currently helping Himawari in tying her shoes, her gigglings powerful stimuli for smiles. Naruto tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, calloused hands trailing down her whiskered cheeks while leaving trails of fatherly affection.
He found himself in an urge to hug the pair, but he shut it down, no lest he gets embarrassed.
–Hey dad. –He found himself saying. –I've meant to ask—could you assist me with the Kage Bunshin? I've been having some issues with my chakra output as of late. They aren't as sturdy as I would like.
Naruto licked his lips, gently gesturing Himawari to go help her mother with the preparation. He made his way to him, kneeling to face him on an equal level.
–I was planning to, Boruto. –He ruffled his hair with care, and Boruto couldn't help but squirm in mortification with a flush to his cheeks.
–I don't always have that much time available, so I owe it to you to make the best out of what we can get a hold of. Don't worry about the jutsu so much, however. You're a natural.
He lowered his tone, gesturing for him to come closer.
–Let's just make sure to spend just as much time with both your mother and sister. We wouldn't like to repeat the same episode of my inauguration, do we?
Boruto could not honestly mind answering if asked for thrilled grin splitting his face.
The sewers of old, where unkept raw power drought the darkest of emotions, were nowhere to be found.
He remembered with above-average clearness the many times he laid presence in this place. An adage of sheer horror gripped him to the core on those days, when what he thought for a mindless beast was kept restrained by the bars of a seal so thin it barely gave enough power to hold.
Hatred, not unlike his own but of a worst colossal level ran rampant throughout his coils, and it was his barely passable willpower which prevented a backlash so severe he never dared to imagine the consequences.
Now, however, where contained hazard laid unrest before, it now stayed silent, complacent, in a blissful state of peace so alien it was nothing short of a miracle to witness.
Uzumaki Naruto stared at the place that once was a jail, now turned into an environment he was happy to call home. How ironic of him, to seek peace and comfort out there in the hearts of the people, where all he needed was to prod a little bit within and work himself out.
It has been scarce the times in which your chakra has balanced itself in harmony between the forces of light and dark.
His voice spoke of old. A spirit born of the power of nature preserved, for it too was an inherently essential component of it.
Kurama spoke, slitted eyes observing with keen interest the pools of blue that mirrored them, underrated by the white light that surrounded them both.
It happened, then, when you repelled with conviction a cycle of hatred that chained you to a past not yours in blood but in soul.
It happened afterward when you enforced judgment upon a man who called the force of the moon to its will.
The beast got closer, gently purring a cloud of breath that ruffled Naruto's coat, his hair moving in that same wild tendency of ages long surpassed.
Just now you've done the same. An event born before out of conflict presents itself with no reason whatsoever to justify such change. I'm intrigued.
Blue eyes took a reflecting look, the source of interest patiently discerning his answers.
–It could be that I'm at peace. My village is well, my country just the same, unaffected by the many problems outside of it. The stress accumulated over the last couple of weeks has gone by thanks to you and my family. I guess I'm only grateful for the things I have.
Keh. You better be. If there is something I'm sure of, is that you may be the luckiest man in all land. Your life started with the short end of the stick, and look at what you made out of it. Not even your predecessors had the same fortune, not even Ashura or Hashirama.
Kurama touched naruto with one of his deft, long fingers. It was incredible how one who could tear and render mountains to dust could make a gesture so gentle.
You've focused so much on always upholding the happiness of others you've forgotten to appreciate your own. Do not make the mistake of ignoring what you've been blessed with despite life's circumstances.
Uzumaki Naruto smiled, his sagehood taking presence in his eyes. Crosshair irises matched slitted ones with content.
–I might as well ooze gratitude from tomorrow and on, then.
I made this one-shot as an exercise in habit. God knows how many stories I have started only to discard them halfway through thanks to my lesser discipline.
Remember, everyone. Learn to finish what you start.
Leave your thoughts in the reviews section. Thank you for the taking the time to read this–I really appreciate it.