Chapter I
The brief, desperate battle had gone badly, and what little hope there had been before that had died along with those who had set out to stop the destruction. The beast ravaged the village, its people, and the very land with its simple presence. Those who stood against it were annihilated before they could put up any kind of resistance, and those who fled did so at their own risk.
But somewhere amidst the ruined village, the Yondaime readied himself for what he knew would be the last chance at any kind of victory.
"You can't do this, we need you!" Someone protested. "We have to run, and hope it doesn't follow!"
The protestor was much older than his younger counter-part, and his previous duties had taken its toll on his body. There were some scars, but they were mostly hidden by the many wrinkles he had acquired over the years.
"We've already lost too much to run. What would we do afterwards, anyway? Take refuge in a different village? Die as our enemies seize the chance to destroy us at last?" The Yondaime shook his head dismissively. "No, I have to do this. At least this way, we have a chance."
"But, why does it have to be you?" The protestor continued. "Let me do this thing, Minato! I'm old! I'm going to die soon anyway!"
The Yondaime smiled, and donned the last part of his armour.
"I'm sorry, but only I can do what I have in mind."
"But-"
The old man was silenced as the Yondaime delivered a blow to the man's head, knocking him out instantly.
A third watcher, with long white hair and what could charitably be called strange attire, shifted uneasily at this.
"Was that really necessary?" He asked, folding his arms.
"Yes, Jiraiya. Enough time has been wasted. We have to go now."
"Fine, I'll summon 'Bunta, you concentrate on the seals." He sighed sadly. "Kushina's going to kill me when she finds out what I let you do. And I don't think I'd blame her."
It was later, and the carnage had stopped.
The sleeping child had been returned to his mother, who was still sleeping due to fatigue. They looked peaceful, but Jiraiya knew that that would last only as long as they continued slumbering.
The seal on the child's stomach was still fresh, the skin around it an angry red from its application. The form of the newborn child was looked impossibly innocent, and that made Jiraiya feel even worse for what he had had part in.
But it had to be done, even Kushina would see that with time. He sighed, and turned to leave.
"I am so sorry," He said, and sighed.
He vanished from Konoha, too ashamed to stay in the place he had failed for a second time.
Amid the ruins, the survivors thanked whatever divine spirit had seen fit to preserve them. All across the broken village, happiness at survival was prevalent, which would soon be tempered by mourning for the lost.
But there are some people who, when faced with their survival in the midst of utter destruction, think not of the safety of their friends and family or of what they have lost, but instead think to themselves the terrible words that are the death of all things noble.
How can I profit from this?
Danzo, the founder of the 'Root' section of ANBU, was one of those people. He looked at the chaos and destruction done to his home, and thoughts of the possibilities opened wide to embrace him. He didn't see casualties, he saw possibilities. He didn't see the destruction of his home, but the ruin of his enemies.
"Imagine if we could harness this power." He thought to himself, and because he was one of the people who put such thoughts into action quickly, he began formulating a plan.
Earlier, in the midst of all the devastation, when everything seemed to have been at its bleakest, Danzo had seen something remarkable and, above all else, highly suspicious.
He had seen that idealistic fool, the Yondaime, and his bumbling sensei ride on the back of Gamabunta into the heart of battle, to face the demon.
Wondering what the current hokage was up to, he quickly had a team of Root members follow at a safe distance and take note of everything that happened. What they reported shocked him to the core, while at the same time putting the aforementioned thought into his brain.
The Kyuubi, sealed into a child? A Jinchuuriki for Konoha, it seemed, but he knew how things would work out.
The council would have to choose a new hokage, and the obvious choice would be for one of the remaining sannin to take on the role. Tsunade, however, was nowhere to be found, and his subordinates had reported that Jiraiya was fleeing Konoha. And with Orochimaru having gone rogue just a few years ago, all of the sannin were gone. That would narrow the choices down to the previous Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, and himself. And faced with the choice of a proven candidate over a cripple, Danzo knew what the decision would be.
And knowing what that bleeding-heart-bastard Sarutobi would decide in regards to what could be the greatest weapons Konoha had ever seen since the senju clan, well...
The thought did not bear consideration. He would have to act quickly if he wanted any hope of salvaging anything from this tragedy.
"Assemble a team within the hour." He commanded one of his subordinates. "Search the maternity ward of the hospital, a newborn baby will have to be found." He thought for a moment, then added. "One with blonde hair, and from a family of little importance for preference. Steal the child, then reassemble at the Whirlpool embassy."
His nameless subordinates nodded, and vanished into the gloom of night. He knew they could be trusted to carry out his orders with the utmost efficiency. They would also, no doubt, know that failure was not an option. If what he was planning was planning was discovered, well...
The council would no doubt have him arrested for this. They were governed by their silly and frivolous emotions, and would no doubt see this valuable resource destroyed before it could be put into use.
He could not allow emotions or morals to cloud his judgement, not now. Between the two extremes of the Council and Sarutobi, his path was the most sensible. They would think him a monster if they found out, but he knew better.
This was for the greater good of Konoha, after all.
The sleeping mother never woke. The anti-coagulation technique the medical ninja had applied combined with the ruinous damaged he had inflicted on her womb ensured that she bled to death long before she ever had a chance to regain consciousness.
The child, still sleeping soundly as the seal applied to its belly took its toll, was quickly smuggled away from the embassy to Root headquarters.
A second child, a girl, had a copy of the seal quickly inscribed onto her own stomach before the masked assassin holding her forced as much chakra as they could into her fragile chakra coils.
In theory, the child should have experienced only a moment of excruciating agony as her chakra coils ruptured and poisoned her body, bursting her heart, stomach, lungs, and rendering her brain to mush.
It would be impossible to verify that right now, though. The child now showed all the signs of complete chakra overload. Provided that people believed what they saw, nobody would think to perform a paternity test on the tiny body. The only things that remained to do was deposit the child near the other corpse, and corrupt all documents that might pertain that the children they had stolen had ever existed.
They worked throughout the night, but as the morning sun rose over the thick canopy of trees, nobody would know what had happened.
Danzo inspected the seal on the child's belly with a critical eye, perplexed by the complexity of it and at the same time fascinated by it. It was indeed a shame that the Yondaime had died, if this was what the young prodigy had produced on such a short notice. It was easily the most confusing riddle of seal-mastery he had ever seen. Compared the seals normal ninjas used, this was completely eldritch.
A shame, but Danzo was convinced that the loss of the young seal master could be recouped when the jinchuuriki he had created was fully trained. The child would become the greatest weapon of Konoha, their unseen guardian.
The crippled man smiled widely as he handed the child away to a young woman, who would feed it.
Naruto Uzumaki, the team who had kidnapped him reported the child's name to have been. Well, that wouldn't do. Names entailed an identity, something he afforded only a select few of his underlings. For now, the child would remain nameless until such a time that one was required.
As he had predicted, Sarutobi had been duly sworn back in as the hokage of Konoha only a few hours ago. Not long after, the bodies of Kushina Uzumaki and her 'daughter' had been found. The feeling in the village was one of public mourning, as they discovered that their beloved Minato Namikaze had sacrificed both himself and his newborn 'daughter' to save them. It was a black day,
The last of both the Uzumaki and the Namikaze died last night, among many others. The old monkey declared today to be a holiday to celebrate their fallen heroes, the Yondaime and his nameless daughter.
It was funny, in a way, how easily the plan had succeeded. Somewhere out there a couple mourned the loss of their daughter, but his agents had made certain that there would be no way to trace their child's demise either to him or the body that was tearfully buried alongside its 'mother' and 'father'. The people of Konoha seemed eager to believe in the tragedy, really. It was strange, but he was satisfied so long as his hand in the matter remained unseen.
It would take years before his investment would pay off, but he knew that the trainers and scholars in his employ could be relied upon to produce only the best of results.
Yes, time would prove that his decision was the most efficient, the most logical.
"And then Sarutobi can choke on his compassion." He thought to himself.
Danzo glared one last time at the documents concerning the child's origins, before he brushed them away. His aide would remove them for him alter that day, filing them away in the secret archives they kept on all of their operatives.
Months drifted by as the child grew, passed from one wet-nurse to another before anyone could gain any kind of strong feelings for one another. When the child was old enough to live on solids, the whole matter was abruptly abandoned as the child began his education.
There were no shinobi arts taught to him, not yet. To do so would foolishly risk the child, after all. No, he was taught to speak, read and write. His teachers all wore faceless masks, and only a select few were chosen to have any kind of contact with the child without one. Danzo, of course, was one such person. He wanted the child to readily recognize him for the rest of his life, and to mark himself as a unique individual among so many nondescripts who, for all intents and purposes, were simply talking mannequins.
His tutors reported to him that the child showed little patience for studying a few months into his education. He would grow restless without stimulation, and would eventually attempt to talk to his teachers. Danzo himself had watched one such session, and frowned in annoyance whenever the child attempted to derail their lessons to other matters. A common question would crop up, though.
"Who am I?"
Danzo despaired of the child. Ever since one of his tutors had told him that everything and every person had a name, the child had wanted to know his. And 'you' or 'child' or 'you stupid little brat!' were hardly names that would stick in this particular nursery. Something more tangible would have to given to him.
With growing annoyance, he dredged up the documents salvaged from the raid he had staged so long ago on the Whirlpool embassy, and inspected them once more.
Uzumaki Naruto. Not much of a name, he had to admit. But it would do, he supposed. With some slight modifications, of course.
His surname would have to be a fabrication, of course. With his father all but martyred, it wouldn't take much for the child to eventually find out who his wife had been, and from there the child may make some strange leaps of logic.
Something else would have to do, maybe even something that would subtly remind the child of where his true loyalties should lie. It should remind him constantly of what he was a part of.
He paused for a moment as he processed the last thought. And then he had it.
With a wry smile, he knew what his newest soldier's family would be.
Fukaine.
And with his smile quickly withering, he decided that there was no point in changing the real name of the child. A small token of respect for his father, who had bestowed upon the village its greatest weapon.
Fukaine Naruto.
He decided to tell the child himself, to make certain the boy knew where his loyalties should lie.
The room they were keeping Naruto was sparse even by Danzo's standards, but he highly approved. He wanted his youngest inductee to focus completely on what he or his teachers had to tell him. No distractions from what was important.
He limped into the room as dignified as he could; without his aide, walking was much more troublesome. His cane did precious little for him, but the hidden seals inscribed along its length that would transform it into a radiant blade of chakra more than compensated for the otherwise useless walking aid.
The young blonde sat on the ground, cross-legged, with a book in his hands. The masked teacher also with him stood to leave, but Danzo motioned for him to stay.
Naruto studied him, already taking on some of the mannerisms of his tutors. But there was a slight grin as he obviously tried to reign in a laugh.
Danzo frowned. He supposed he couldn't fault the child, as he was only two. But he would not suffer the child to be so impertinent.
The cane in his hand whirled just above the child's head, instantly freezing him where he sat with his eyes wide with sudden fear.
"I am Danzo." The Root commander stated, glaring down at the child with his single eye. "While you reside with us, I will be your commander. And even when you leave, I will never be far."
That was a lie, but it was important that he instilled as much respect and an almost parental image of himself in the blonde's mind.
He leaned down closer to the child, bringing their faces closer. As he did so he activated a subtle genjutsu that would focus the child's senses on him. For a brief moment, Danzo was the center of the child's world. The blue eyes were trained on him to the degree that when the Root agent behind him squatted down to the child's level, they didn't even flicker.
Danzo smiled slowly, radiating a calm confidence.
"I have been told that you have asked about your name. Is this true?"
The child was stunned for a moment, and too fearful to speak. But eventually the spirit that had yet to be crushed won out, and he opened his mouth to answer.
"Yes." Came the simple reply.
Danzo was pleased at the lack of elaboration. It, along with the other mannerisms, were indicative that the conditioning was taking effect. He nodded in acknowledgment, then straightened himself with a slight groan.
"You are Fukaine Naruto." He said purposefully, pausing momentarily as the child repeated the name to himself while the agent behind him stiffened in discomfort. Like all the others, they had been conditioned that names were never to be revealed.
"Fukaine Naruto..." The blonde quietly echoed. The blue eyes watched him uncertainly, but Danzo could see gratitude behind the scrutiny. "Is that right?"
The Root operative behind him was clearly becoming uncomfortable with the talk of names, so the elder gestured that he leave. The news would spread among his other peers, though. It would no doubt foster resentment among the younger members, but that would not survive long.
"Yes." Danzo confirmed, his smile widening. He bent low to pick up one of the books the tutor had left behind, and carefully sat himself on the ground in front of Naruto. "Since your teacher has left, I will continue your education.
Young Naruto beamed happily, eager to hear what Danzo had to say.
Fukaine Naruto was a quick study once he realized his place in their organisation. He may not be an integral part of it yet, but some day he would be. To that end, he would learn what his elders thought he should know, fight the way they wanted him to, live the way they did.
He didn't even notice what he was giving up, not really. He face dulled, lost its vibrancy. It became so expressionless that his tutors began reporting that they needn't award the boy a mask, as the only thing his face revealed was that he was human. Despite this, when the boy was six he received the mask that would from then on become his 'face'.
Like all the men and women under Danzo's command, the mask was more symbolic than anything else. Anything that might distinguish one from another outside of the physical had long since been drained away.
But unlike the other members of Root and its parent organisation, ANBU, it wasn't an animal. Danzo feared that if it became known that a child of Naruto's age was a part of his faction, Sarutobi would begin inquiries. Officially, Root wasn't supposed to exist.
So Naruto's mask was left featureless, a simple oval with eye-holes and slits for air and sound to pass through. He stood out, of course, but Naruto had not yet been revealed to anyone outside of Root yet.
The tattoo that was standard among all of ANBU was also out of the question. This child, once released, would be the trump card Danzo would need to usurp Sarutobi when the time was ripe. Such a mark would be entirely too obvious.
But even without the staples of his training it was becoming harder to hide the child from ANBU. They were cracking down on many of the old meeting places and training halls. The simple logistics of keeping a hideout for the child to live in and a steady stream of trainers would eventually give them away, if they weren't careful. So far, his agents had managed to avoid discovery simply by using their numbers. It was hard to track so many people long enough for a pattern to emerge, after all.
The elder smiled as he watched his youngest protégé fight against another of his age. He felt something akin to pride well in his chest as he watched the two spar, each learning from the other and in turn improving. And through them, the strength of Konoha grew. He smirked as Naruto unleashed a genjutsu against his opponent that caught him by surprise. Prohibited by the rules their instructors had laid, of course, but the reasoning Naruto offered was faultless.
"There are no rules in battle." He stated, his voice devoid of any passion, before anyone could berate him. "Only success and failure."
Danzo applauded the young blonde's victory, and everyone present looked up in surprise. It was rare for him to show any favour for any of his operatives.
"Well fought and spoken, shinobi." The old man congratulated.
"Danzo-sama." Everyone, excepting the boy currently trapped in genjutsu, said as they dropped into a kneeling position.
"It is well that you consider battle to be free of restrictions, Naruto." Danzo commended. "This will serve you well in the future. But you are not truly fighting, are you?"
The young shinobi hesitated for a moment before answering in the negative. The white oval mask was riveted on him, Danzo knew, and would not move unless he did.
"Then what is the purpose of these training sessions?" Danzo demanded, his voice suddenly harsh. As he spoke, the young boy still suffering from the genjutsu collapsed to the ground.
Naruto was silent this time, his confusion apparent.
"You are here to learn, boy!" Came the harsh answer. "You are to improve your taijutsu! You defeat the point of this exercise with these antics."
"Yes, Danzo-sama."
Danzo nodded, satisfied that his criticism was suitably absorbed, and turned to leave. There was another matter that needed his attention, concerning the Uch-
He was not prepared for what came next.
"But should I not learn how to integrate taijutsu with my other ninja arts?" Naruto asked, in what Danzo could almost disbelievingly call a rebellious tone. "Why should I hobble myself needlessly by training one style at a time, when it would be much more beneficial to train all at once?"
Danzo whipped his head around to glare venomously at the young blonde. The instructors all stared at him as well, no doubt wondering if they had actually heard what had been spoken.
"Because I told you to!" Danzo answered coldly, before continuing on his way. "And for the love of god, get that kid some treatment."
It was later, that same day. The sun had fallen bellow the canopy, but the sky was still painted a violent red.
Deep inside one of the hideouts his subordinates had established, Danzo was getting ready to sleep. Amazing, really, that he could manage it after what he had ordered only a few hours earlier. His stern features held no guilt, no remorse. He would do it again, if he had the choice.
But really, had there ever been a choice? Traitors deserved nothing less.
Despite himself, Danzo was impressed. He would never have thought that Homura and Koharu had it in them to make the correct decision. He had suspected that they would support their old team mate in his decision, and that it would be up to him once more to do what was necessary. But they had united against Sarutobi alongside him, and together they had forced the hokage's hand.
But that had only been the first shock of the day, it seemed.
Despite their support, Danzo had still suspected the old pair of betraying him somehow, and so he had chosen someone he thought would refuse. The young man had been summoned, and then given his orders. Danzo himself had retired shortly after that to assemble several teams to make doubly certain of this mission.
But Uchiha Itachi had followed his orders with admirable efficiency, he had to admit. He knew that his own operatives could perform such acts, but to find such willingness outside of his influence...
Well, it was surprising.
After all, it took special kind of ninja to kill every member of their family on command.
All in all, it had been a satisfying day. There was nothing like the execution of traitors to end the day on a good note.
But beyond the hidden Root office, at the Uchiha Compound, there was a survivor.
Sasuke Uchiha lay in a heap, contained in the terrible genjutsu his brother had trapped him in. Again and again he saw the foul acts perpetrated, every member of his family butchered like animals.
All to measure Itachi's strength. For such a meaningless reason, everything was destroyed. There was no sense to it.
Alone in the forest he had chased his brother through, it was hours before he was finally found by ANBU and escorted to the hospital.
It would be the cause of a headache for Danzo later, though.
And the release of his greatest weapon, Naruto.
A/N: Yeah, this is my second endeavour into the Naruto-fiction section, and hopefully this time I'll be able to keep it going. So, be helpful in reviews and I may have the motivation to keep this thing going, ne?
And because I can all but hear people opening up a second browser tab to open up their favourite online translation sites, so I might as well save you all the trouble. Fukaine is a contraction of the Japanese words fukai (deep, profound, thick, close) and ne (root). Yes, it's that simple.
Yes, I know that the translation is rather vague, but you know what? The closest the dictionary I was using could come to the meaning I was hoping for was yuuyuutaru. And I am not putting that anywhere near my mouth, as the prostitute said. There were a few other words, but fukai was the closest after yu- that silly word.
And since I went out of my way already with names, I figured I might as well rest my head by simply using honorifics instead of trying to form conversations in such a way that would convey the same meaning.
Also: No, Naruto will not be super-powered. He will be taught by some of the best members of Root, though. And while that won't make bring him to *shudder* SUPER SAIYIN 4 LEVEL, he'll at least be one scary demon-child. And I have... Plans... for Naruto's conditioning in any case.
The inspiration for this story stemmed mostly from the strange habit for people to portray Danzo as an irredeemable bastard. I mean, yes, he is. But you gotta bear in mind that he's a bastard for Konoha. I mean, most of his portrayal in the manga depicts him as opposing Sarutobi and Tsunade for being too 'soft'. He'll fade away, while still being a part of things, but he mostly takes the spotlight here to establish his character: Unpleasant, but a man with a plan.
Also, I apologize to anyone who read the sloppy first edition of this chapter. I dunno how I missed so many errors. Hopefully I've gotten the rest.
And on a finishing note: pineapples have no business on pizza, you horrible deviants.
That is all.