Authors Note
When I came across the Namikaze Minato/Uzumaki Naruto pairing I was deeply disappointed because none of the characters seemed to have any problems with the morality of their incestuous love. That is why I had to write this pairing as well. Also, if you come across spelling or grammar errors, I'd appreciate you pointing them out to me.
One of his biggest failings, he mused wryly, was that he had never quite managed to separate the chakra of the Kyūbi no Kitsune and the chakra of his loved ones in the depths of his mind. Back then, when Minato had stood at the fresh corpse of his beloved wife, with Naruto in his hands; the ink of the seal not even dry he had known it: his fate was sealed.
That chakra would be his undoing.
The Nine Tails Beast's substantial chakra felt like you could drown in it. And when you left Its vicinity, Its chakra clung to you like hot oil. Being shrouded in that heavy and dense chakra feels like what Minato had always imagined how drowning in hot springs would feel. When Kushina was the Jinchūriki she had felt the same as Naruto did now. That raised Minato's hackles in the surreptitious way that it didn't do so at all.
As an orphan, growing up alone, Kushina fast became his home. Her chakra, and therefore the Chakra Demon, felt like home. An all encompassing safety blanket. Felt like the love of his life. And with the chakra-oriented bedroom games they had played, that chakra turned him on like no other.
So when some unknown assailant managed to rip the Kyūbi no Kitsune forcefully out of the love of his life, he suddenly came to the uncomfortable conclusion that the chakra that could leave him a gibbering hot mess in ten seconds flat, originated from the most fearsome Demon Fox rather than his beloved Kushina.
Whenever he thought back to that horrid night, he still felt self loathing. He had instantly known how it all would play out, and how it all would end up. It had been a foregone conclusion to him; the only way he could easily bow out of this nightmare scenario was honorably sacrificing himself while sealing the Demon into his infant son. It might have been regrettable that his beloved Naruto would grow up an orphan just like he had, but surely it'd work out.
Somehow he didn't manage to convince Kushina of this. Though he always had a hard time denying her anything; saying no to a dying request of her that sounded extremely logical in front of his entire ANBU guard was not something he could easily do.
So like the silly, lovesick fool he was, he ended up agreeing and assisting her. It was to be his downfall.
He fought the Kyūbi no Kitsune into submission, and like the madman he was, Minato ordered the ANBU to bring his family to the location. Shiranui-kun carried Kushina to the spot as she was in no state to walk by herself, with Namiashi-kun hot on their heels carrying the youngest member of Kushina's and Minato's family – they hadn't even had the time to remove all of Naruto's umbilical cord yet.
Kushina, like the shining bright Uzumaki Fūinjutsu prodigy she was, hadn't let herself be hindered in her art due to hurdles like being on death's doorstep. She still could flawlessly seal half of the Kyūbi no Kitsune into their newborn son, while sacrificing herself to the Shinigami with the other half. Minato was allowed to see her bright smile for one last time, with some churning parting words:
"Now our Naruto won't grow up alone like we did, Mina-chan. I know you are going to be the best father, Dattebane!"
Minato cried because he had just lost his wife, holding his infant son close; not being able to let go. After all, Naruto now contained that same thick, dense and oily chakra his wife used to have. The salve for his soul. If Minato's breath hitched because that chakra spiked with the Demon Fox's ire his ANBU guard would forgive him because they'd draw their own conclusions. Thankfully Occam's razor wouldn't lead them to his conclusions.
Now if only he could forgive himself for the tingling in his loins at feeling that chakra; he was completely and utterly done for. The best father? If only. The ink of Naruto's sealing wasn't even dry, and he already regretted not leaving his son an orphan more than he ever regretted anything before.
He sighed and put Naruto back in Namiashi-kun's arms. Konoha was in tatters, he had a crisis situation to manage. What a SNAFU.
By the time Naruto was 2 months old, Minato knew for sure he had never felt so wrong as he did whenever he looked at his infant son.
Not only had his Pavlovian response to Kushina's – no, Naruto's – chakra refused to be diminished. Which was wrong, wrong, wrong, Naruto was his son! If anything, the response had grown stronger. Minato couldn't help but ask himself what was wrong with him to be able to respond like that.
Like all 2 month old infants do, his son started laughing. And what should have been the first milestone out of many, turned out to be the first yoke of many burdens to bare.
Even when it was the innocent and demented smile of an infant, it was beyond doubt that Naruto's smile had the same quality as Kushina's did. The sun came up and went down with that smile. In the future, his smile would inspire the masses. And while Minato knew by now that he was the worst kind of father – the kind that ought to burn in hell for his sinful feelings – he now knew he'd be the most incompetent one too.
Even in the unlikely scenario of turning out to be so thick in interpersonal relationships as Kushina had been; there was no doubt in Minato's mind that Naruto would eventually figure out how to exploit smiling at his father to get away with murder. Which was rather problematic, because as the head of a military dictatorship that wasn't just an expression anymore.
He, the fearsome Yellow Flash, the Yondaime Hokage was a joke. Such a horrendously bad joke he couldn't even laugh at. Minato dearly hoped that, even as a failure of a father he'd be able to impart enough morality into his son. His heart sank at the possibility of such failure.
By the Sage, please let the damage be manageable.
Minato was no more but a slave to the whims of his son, who would figure it out eventually.
Whenever Minato thought of the issue of his Naru-chan and his beloved big brother "Kashi-nii-san", Minato couldn't help but feel contrite.
While the fourteen year old prodigy hadn't been impressed with him when Minato had shoved his three-month old son into Kakashi's arm with the words:
"Just like you do, Kashi-kun, Naru-chan needs all the family he can get. So today he will have some bonding time with his big brother. Here, a scroll with his travel cot, baby bag, milk, stuffed animal and toys. I'd be disappointed if I see you before tomorrow morning."
Kakashi had gone along with it, just like Minato predicted because he knew Kakashi couldn't say no to him. Minato also wasn't above shamelessly abusing it on rare occasions, such as this one.
He might have been right in his assumption that Kakashi and Naruto needed to bond, but he knew he was dead wrong to shove an infant into the arms of a fourteen year old teenager, and emotionally blackmail the poor kid to go along with it. No matter how self sufficient the teenager in question was.
Therefore he felt contrite. But what else was he supposed to do? He was barely hanging on to the tatters of his frayed sanity!
Minato needed that time alone. He loved his darling Naru-chan but his son's chakra was driving him over the edge. It was vexing, but he didn't know what else to do than seal his entire bedroom for absolute privacy, and have a clone henge himself into his dead wife and have his wicked way with himself.
With of course a fūinjutsu seal on his clone so he wouldn't get his clone's memories and shattering the illusion afterwards.
He had truly needed that night. With the combination of a henge and a genjutsu for the illusion of that addictive chakra, he returned to the wicked bedroom games he used to play with his wife; and he was finally allowed to stop thinking and just let go.
Whatever punishment and reward games he had loved to play with his wife, they had never felt this intense before, because never before had he done so much so inherently wrong. When she was alive, there never had been a situation where Kushina's demand for his penance could have possibly been this absolute. After all, he had never been so incredibly erroneous in his ways before she'd died.
And so the shadow of his wife broke him until he couldn't stop crying for forgiveness for his perverse nature, and then she remade him with words of absolution, only to break him again, and again, until the night would end.
Minato needed to seek the salvation of Kushina's shadow, he needed the catharsis of her grace because even in death she was the only one that could save him now.
That following morning he refused to heal himself, never mind seek healing. He would meditate on his pain. Because explaining his need to self flagellation to a medic nin who would look up to him and only see their Hokage would eventually also mean having to explain how he had been lusting after his infant son's chakra as if it were his departed wife's... That was something he wouldn't even dare confess under torture.
For that matter, he dearly hoped there'd never be a situation where he'd have to have Inoichi verify his sanity or identity as the Hokage. He'd be finished.
That night he hadn't been allowed a wink of sleep, and the following morning he felt completely and utterly spent, but better than in an entirely too long three months. Even if he didn't have his wife to dote on him the rest of the day, and show him how much she loved him and how good of a slave he had been to her.
Because, he knew she was dead. Because he knew he wasn't good. He wasn't good, to her memory or their son. He was rotten to the core and he needed punishment without reprieve. But his clones had delivered it to him, maybe even harsher than she would have, and he felt closer to managing some form of mental ablution than he had these past three months.
Yes, Minato felt especially contrite when he saw his student's deer-in-the-headlights expression when he told him this arrangement would continue every other weekend; provided Kakashi would be on down time. Coming over twice a week for dinner was not nearly enough to be a proper elder brother, after all.
Minato loathed himself.
Whether that was because he was a failure as the Hokage of Konohagakure, or simply because he was a failing as a father, he didn't quite know yet.
It could be because he had been a horrid jonin and the worst kind of sensei to a five year old genin. A five year old that, fourteen years down the line, had grown up to be an unrepentant nineteen year old Hatake Kakashi, deliverer of divine retribution and incidentally also the inordinately proud brother to Minato's son.
This didn't seem like a problem in itself, Minato was aware. The problem lied in the fact that the ridiculously proud older brother seemed to think the sky was the limit when it came to Naruto's potential. Something about showing up Uchiha Itachi-kun, who (quite like Kakashi) was as proud as a peacock of their younger brother trying to emulate them.
The problem lied therein that Kakashi was vastly more successful in enabling his little brother and had successfully managed to train the four year old to have a near-perfect control over his monstrous chakra. Too much of Kakashi's undivided prodigious attention had managed to rub of on Naruto.
So Minato's four year old now was an academy student with enough tricks up his sleeve to trick him, the Yondaime Hokage, and lull him into a false sense of security.
Naruto-chan had managed to secretly work his way through studying and perfecting the first three jutsu's on the Kinjutsu scroll before Minato noticed and could do some sort of damage control.
And Kakashi, the gleefully unrepentant older brother that he was, hadn't only egged him on, but was proud of his accomplishments as well. Told Naruto he'd teach him a few interesting jutsu's as a reward.
Which led to the situation where Naruto managed something not quite like a henge, but a full body transformation. Naruto knew his mothers photos by heart, because if he didn't look like her spitting image before she certainly did now. Ever since learning that blasted jutsu, half the time Naruto now was a girl, ran around with flowing long, red hair that made him ache something fierce, and demanded to be called "Naruko".
Nothing would have pleased Minato more than to stand up for himself and demand to never use such a painful henge again, but Naruko smiled that impossibly bright smile at him, dived into his arms – and after four years that cursed chakra still made him forget how to breathe – and bubbled at him that she looked even more like mommy like this, and wasn't it wonderful?
Minato couldn't do anything but nod dumbly at his Naru-chan, and hoisting his daughter up a bit higher to make sure she wouldn't notice the side effects of the pleasant feelings in his loins that were always stirred to life in a context that made it anything but enjoyable these days. He tried to mentally cut those reactions off, but like usual, with little to no effect at all.
The only good thing that came out of this wretched situation, was that at the very least, Minato was a master at henges without having to make any hand seals by now.
Naru-chan had looked up to him asking him once more whether he liked her looking like Kushina just as much as she did, and Naru-chan's hopeful face and chakra were enough to ignore the painful sensation that felt as if his heart stopped pumping for a few seconds. He couldn't help but burrow his nose in Naru-chan's hair, hug her fiercely, and promise her the world.
Over her shoulder, he glared at Kakashi, and told his daughter that as a treat she got an extra night with her nii-chan.
Minato was of the opinion that Karma could work into two directions. Let Kakashi give up his free evening, with surprises like these, Minato desperately needed some time alone.
He loathed himself, for he couldn't wait to be home. Minato wanted the blissful feeling of being trapped in a genjutsu where Kushina was real, and where the chakra he still associated to be home, hot, and horny wouldn't be sinful to get off on. He wanted to lay at Kushina's feet and beg her for forgiveness, and be flagellated until he couldn't form a single coherent thought any more.
By now there wasn't a fūinjutsu seal he was so practiced in, as the one that stopped the memory transfer from his shadow clones.
So every night, after a tiresome day of pretending to be a dutiful Hokage, and a dutiful father, he'd grimace at his mirror image, wincing while imagining what his beloved Kushina would have to say of his unfatherly feelings. By now, she would have been so disgusted by him that she couldn't possibly look him in the eyes anymore. He missed her not as much as he used to, but his fixation on Naruto had only grown.
He managed to swallow the bile away.
Minato dearly wanted oblivion.
Penitence was Minato's middle name these days; and if he hadn't seen what Sakumo's solution to such situation had done to Kakashi – no, he didn't want to do that to Kakashi, or Naruto. Not to mention, he was Konohagakure's Yondaime Hokage. He couldn't bow out that easily, they depended on him.
Even if they'd be disgusted with him if they'd care to look into the deepest, darkest corners of his mind.
Like a cancer, the shame and sorrow grew. It ate him up, and it burned him inside out.
While Naru-chan wasn't at the tender age of six like Kakashi had been, and had been chuunin for four years by now, he couldn't do that to his children.
How he wished he could.
She had a phase where she felt more like Naruko than Naruto, and so Minato had been living with, and raising a little clone of Kushina these last few months. That in itself was an insidious sweetness that kept stabbing into his heart like a thousand poisonous senbon would.
In the loneliness of his home Minato had cradled his head in his hands while desperately wondering whether Naru-chan has finally figured out why Naruko gets more done with him than Naruto does. He isn't sure. And the mere possibility that Naru-chan hasn't got any ulterior motives makes him painfully aware of how there is only one shinobi in this home that ought to question their morals. And it isn't his child.
Not a day went by where Minato would look at her and not note some little detail that made it hard for him not to overlap his darling daughter with is dear departed wife. Often, he felt like he'd fallen down the rabbit hole and had been flung back into time. Naruko would look into her fathers eyes, and Minato would suddenly forget to breathe, just like he did back when he was ten years old.
After all, wasn't he about ten years also the age he first realized there was more to his feelings of fondness of his beloved Kushina? That he finally figured out why it hurt so much that she hadn't held him in the same regard as he did her, back then? Wasn't ten years the age when he fell completely and irrevocably in love with Kushina?
While falling in love for a second time with your spouse isn't unheard of, falling in love with your spouse's carbon copy? Your own daughter no less? It made his heart ache and his stomach churn with a plethora of ugly feelings.
Desire for his departed Kushina. Igniting the same desire for Naruko. Self hatred, for daring to look at his firstborn like that. Feeling stupid, for being the kind of idiot to be pining after is departed wife so long after her death. Self pity when he identifies what the feelings for his child had morphed into. Self hatred, for pity was far too kind on a loathsome man such as himself.
It made him feel ill and ache for a blade to commit seppuku with. Though he did morbidly wonder whether that'd be a too lenient punishment for such an unforgivable sin as his. He would gladly suffer the burden of the sins of his mind in silence because Sakumo's way out would give Kakashi and Naru-chan a grief he wouldn't dare to bring upon them.
Especially because he was too much of a coward to let them know what would motivate him to such deed, even in death. It was selfish and vain of him, but regardless of his shameful and deprived mind, he desperately wanted them to think well of him, even in death.
But death wasn't an option. How he wished it was.
The days Naruko-chan didn't spend away on a mission or with Kakashi were the days Minato spend his nights crying until he fell asleep. Afterwards he dragged himself through miserable mornings trying to start Naru-chan's day properly while he felt dehydrated and drained because he had woken up on a drenched pillow once more. The only reason nobody was asking any questions was because he lived permanently under a flawless henge, these days. Acting as if everything were normal.
That his once perpetual smile had long since left his face following the day Kushina had died, and never returned for any longer than he'd spend with his beloved child made his raging depression and his merciless self hatred harder to spot even if it was becoming of truly erratic proportions these days. But that didn't matter, because Minato knew he didn't deserve to be saved.
Penitence was his middle name, for Minato was acutely aware of his sins. And no matter how contrite or regretful it was, he couldn't repent while he was still living in sin.
There was no way out.
Just like Naru-chan's dense chakra clung to Minato whenever he came too close, enticing him like the forbidden fruit, Minato exuded a shroud of peccability. It clung arund him like tar, and the addition of feathers would be too nice of a change for a vile and wicked being like him.
Nevertheless, with every new sun that rises, he dearly wishes Kushina was still pregnant, and all this is a horrible nightmare, a genjutsu designed to drive him mad; he desperately wishes this weren't reality.
If wishes were fishes, they'd all live in the sea, Minato figures. While Naruko dances through their home like a leaf in the wind these days, often acting as the vivacious but dutiful daughter, Minato still gets his son Naruto in the mornings and evenings: in a state of undress and with disarming doe-eyes that show sleepiness. Minato now knows the embodiment of that 'moe' feeling Jiraiya-sensei would always wax poetic about.
The burning shame is ever present when he sardonically asks himself which version of his child will do him in first. He is long past asking himself what could possibly be wrong with him for having these thoughts.
Naru-chan's fifteenth birthday would come in a few months, and whenever she wasn't the beautiful flower that was pure Kushina down to the crinkle of her eyes, her laugh, her pouts, her boisterous behavior, mischievous responses with a devious smile, he'd be Naruto.
Whenever Naruto showed himself these days, Minato would realize that it wasn't simply Kushina who held his heart anymore. His son shone brighter than any supernova, and his vivacity was so overwhelming and bright that Minato felt like being burned alive for daring to be so close. Naruto was addictive in the most devastating ways.
His devious and deviant feelings had corrupted even further and managed to sink to even lower levels. Whatever shattered remains were left of his self worth were now truly well beyond repair.
The beauty of his shadow clones being essentially himself was they had his subconscious. They knew his deepest, darkest desires.
So when one day his clone didn't henge into Kushina, but rather into Naruto, Minato couldn't find it in himself to truly be surprised. He knew that from this day on he would never hear the catch phrase "Dattebane" in his bedroom anymore. From this day on it'd be "Dattebayo".
And yet the reason he'd flinched and cried wasn't a misplaced sense of loss of having clung to Kushina for this long, but rather a sense of liberation: the last mask had been pulled off, finally his soul lay truly bared.
For the first time in an agonizing fourteen long years, he faced the shadow and his source of ever present guilt head on. Falling into his son's arms he cried for his own depravity, for that he had finally truly cracked.
Before Kushina there had been no other for him, so the greed with which Minato wanted to be allowed to explore his son's body didn't surprise him. His arousal for his son's form was stronger than he'd imagined it could ever be, and he felt all the uglier for it.
Then again, it had truly been a long time coming.
His subconscious knew him so very well, and while wearing Naruto's face and using his voice, Minato's subconscious delighted in telling hem he'd have to pay for his faults. Didn't Minato know he couldn't contain his leering? Didn't Minato know that fathers weren't supposed to eye their son's like that?
And if he wanted Naruto so badly, he'd better kneel before Naruto.
Weak in the knees he fell in front of the shadow of his son, lust burying his perpetually present shame.
Yes, Minato was peccable, for he lived in sin and error, but by the Sage, if euphoria from a flogging followed by feeling like dying of asphyxiation on his son's flesh was this exquisite , he would finally accept his biggest vice of them all.
He is done denying it: he loved his son in a way no father was supposed to, and he delighted in sinning with shadow clones masquerading as his son.
Minato doesn't try to think of the dishonor that would fall upon him, should anyone accidentally make it into his bedroom when he should have his privacy.
While his bedroom has long since become a wet dream for any fūinjutsu-nut, for the extremities he has gone through for some well guaranteed privacy for he found that cannot always wait long enough for the few nights he is alone and his Naru-chan is spending he night at "Kashi-nii's" like he had always done.
Minato is still terrified with the fear that he has overlooked a vital area while doing these privacy fūinjutsus seals because he wasn't possibly thinking straight when he was designing them. And he knows he wasn't thinking straight; he is beyond caring. He knows it is reckless to spend his nights like that even when the real Naru-chan is innocently dreaming one room away.
But what else was he supposed to do? It'd be like denying water to a thirsty man. And he felt crippled while thirsting after his son. And in order to stay within the parameters of a normal father, he had to act like something he was not.
It felt like a never ending undercover mission in the safety of his own home. What Minato did in the privacy of his bedroom with his clones was his only reprieve. Whenever he is concealed behind his numerous seals he no longer is dominated by his burning shame because the fire of his desire always threatens to consume him whole. He needs his dearest Naru-chan to school him, defile him and dominate him like Kushina used to.
Still, to allow himself this sort of reprieve in the knowledge that Naruto is innocently sleeping mere meters away, in his own room?
Mastrubation has never felt that depraved before. But the safety of the shadow of Naru-chan's arms always promise Minato the sweetest dreams.
Yet every single morning, after waking up ever so softly in his Naru-chan's arms he dispels his clone while dry heaving and cultivating that burning sense of self hatred the he has come to accept as a default emotion. What still breaks him up on those mornings, is his incapability of promising himself that last night was the last time. That he won't defile his Naru-chan's image any further like that.
Minato wishes he were stronger.
As always, it's in vain.
His Naru-chan has turned seventeen, and Minato is seriously considering training Kakashi to become the Godaime Hokage, because he can't torture himself like this any longer.
He is subjected to Naru-chan's crafty ways once more and just like that he becomes a doormat of a father because Naru-chan knows to linger in his arms for a second longer. By the way she squirms against him while hugging him he knows that she knows. If only he had tears left to cry.
On one of the nights that Naru-chan spends some quality time with their brother Kakashi, he is in the safety of his bedroom and on his knees, wanton and getting far too much enjoyment out of the sensation of chocking on the cock of his son, while seeing his son sitting in the edge of the room. Voyeurism? His own cock twitches happily. He moans around the cock enjoying the spontaneity of his clones. He feels like a degenerate while he allows himself to be dominated, but it feels so good.
When the morning comes, and the guilt arrives, he is horrified to find out the clone won't dispel, but rubs circles over his back while he is puking his guts out. There truly is no reprieve for horrid human beings such as him. For the first time in ages he finally cries real tears, while begging his sweet Naru-chan for forgiveness.
But when Naru-chan drops his henge to show his beloved student Kakashi, Minato finds out he can be even more mortified and ashamed then he already was. There is no way Minato can face this nightmare of a reality any longer.
Minato wants to die.
He wanted to die the day Naruto was born, but wasn't allowed to. He had carried on, hoping against hope it'd be better one day. But it was useless. Today, he decides, he will be selfish.
Knowing it is an action in vain, he tries to beat his student in speed – him plunging a rasengan into his own stomach, against Kakashi activating his sharingan.
Blinking in surprise, and coughing blood, Minato is surprised he actually managed to succeed. He dies with a smile on his lips because he'll never have to face Naru-chan like this.
Authors Note / Story Note
Up to you to decide whether Minato has actually succeeded, or Kakashi lets him believe he has, This fic turned out to be less carnal than I originally planned, and more of a character study of Minato, but this is the end result. Also, stay tuned because different POV sequels may follow.
Please leave thoughts or comments in a review, you'd make my day!
Authors Note / General Notice
So, yay, I'm not dead! And I am back, with a totally different fandom at that. That said, the last 11 years I have not been able to be a participating member of society because I have a debilitating disease that leaves me cripple in many insidious not-in-your-face ways, that have brought my little 11 year younger workaholic self to my knees, and in need of therapy in order to be OK with simply letting things be. Now, who would've thought that years of having to tell yourself that it is a horrible idea to actually go out of your way and actually do something (because doing something means your body will make you feel very sorry) would lead to the thought of having to do something makes you feel a teeny tiny bit stressed?
So what happened?
The therapy that made sure that I wasn't feeling angry, guilty or depressed about being so completely useless that I cannot take care of myself by myself has somewhere, somewhen managed to turn me into a pathological procrastinator. Nevertheless, when happily PM'ing back and forth with someone about one of my HP fanfics, I suddenly got a friendly challenge for a story prompt and I PANICKED, and that really warrants the capital letters, because I didn't know what to do. I couldn't sleep, I pushed food around my plate obsessing over it, and I certainly couldn't write. It freaked me out to such a degree I couldn't even PM back and tell that person that I was panicking over being send such a request at all. It floored me, because I by all means I should have been flattered that someone liked my writing enough to ask for something specific to write, but all I felt was sheer terror.
For over a year I was turned off writing fanfics at all, and while I have dared to write a short Iron Man fanfic earlier, I am still not back to the HP fandom. It even took me a full month to cross post here on FFdotnet, in stead of only on my AO3 account, which I made after that panic inducing request.
So please be patient with me, and for the love of everything dear, please, please, please don't send me any story prompts, requests or challenges. Thank you.