Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, obviously…
Warnings: Maybe some language, Future!Naruto, eventual KakaFuture!Naru (don't like, don't read) etc.
Chapter 1-
Word Count- 1700
Kioshi-Uzumaki Hisato. His true name was unknown. It belonged to an S-Class ninja with no affiliation to a hidden village, only a clan name to mark him as one of the late Uzushiogakure no Sato. No one knew where he had come from, nor when, just that suddenly, rumours began to fly of a powerful shinobi that did not speak, and fought with a speed unmatched by any, maybe even the late Kiiroi Senkō (Yellow Flash). It was said he was, by those who claimed to see him, cloaked with black and crimson, bloody flames lining his midnight garment, hood up and hiding his hair. His face was never seen, hidden by the shadows of his hood. He had fought shinobi before, of Kumo and Iwa, but always left them alive, his true skills unknown regardless.
The rumours grew more and more extravagant. A patrol of shinobi from Iwa had mentioned that he and Uchiha Itachi, nukenin of Konoha, were allies, thus making him an enemy of the Leaf shinobi. He was also said to be gentle. According to some small villages, he had exposed many criminals that fed on the weakness of others. To some, he was a hero that kept to himself, and to others, he was a threat.
But to all, undoubtedly, he was known as Shinku (Crimson). No one furthered the name, and that made him all the more mysterious. His page in the Bingo Book was scarcely filled, as no one truly knew anything about him.
Kakashi read through the contents of the page again, trying to garner anything more. Unsuccessful, he placed his book away and resumed his run through the forests of Konoha.
He was weary from a lengthy A-Class mission and all he wanted to do now was retire to his bedroom for the rest of his miserable life. But knowing his luck, that was a long time coming. So he stepped up his guard, finally approaching the last leg of his journey, just as the sun began to set.
His new name was a funny thing, Hisato mused. His former life as Namikaze-Uzumaki Naruto, the blond-haired, blue-eyed, whiskered, Number One Unpredictable Shinobi of Konoha was no more, and had been for a gruelling three months. Out of all the names he had to choose, it were the ironic ones. Uzumaki, he had kept, because his waist-length red hair was unmistakable. His eyes had changed to a deep, glassy violet hue, and pupils forever slitted like that of a fox. His canines were elongated, but not overly so. For a 24 year-old, he looked fairly young for his age, and was also shorter than the average man.
He had chosen his new name with resigned vigour. Kioshi meant silent, and he had very much become mute. The last he had spoken were many a year ago, and he had forgotten his own voice. It didn't trouble him as much as he thought it would, being one to express himself through words. War did that to people. His name was now Hisato. It meant long lived, or long life, befitting of some who was so hard to kill.
Thinking back on it, Hisato wondered how he was still alive. Kurama had plenty to do with that, even after he had given the last of his endless chakra and faded away. Every wound the Uzumaki received was quick to heal, even mortal ones. It was a blessing to one who needed to live and protect his people, and a curse to one who wanted nothing more to do with a war-torn world.
Being back in the past had its perks, he supposed. There was now a purpose to keep on living, keep on fighting, something that Hisato detested with a burning passion. Violence was a necessary thing, a brutal reminder of reality, and a cruel task that pacifists like he and Itachi were forced to use.
And here he was, travelling to his home, where all his precious people were still alive and waiting, and yet not. Because though they bore the same faces and same mannerisms, they were not his people, the people he had spent over a decade fighting to protect.
Konoha's gates were a tall existence, barring the view of outsiders to the world within. At its feet, two familiar shinobi stood. Kotetsu and Izumo eyed him as he cleared the rim of the forest and approached them with a firm gait. He kept his hood up, hiding his scarred face from view.
Kotetsu cleared his throat, "State your business here." Hisato did not speak. He reached within his cloak slowly, and pulled out a folded note. Izumo took it cautiously and skimmed through its contents. His eyes widened and he thrust the sheet into his partner's hand. Kotetsu had a similar reaction.
"Uzumaki," he stated disbelievingly. Hisato nodded and before they could question him more, he untucked a long braid from his hood, letting the silky tail rest outside his cloak. The two shinobi stared at it. Time slipped by until the sun set, and Hisato waited patiently.
He sensed a very familiar chakra signature closing in from behind. He twisted around to meet the newcomer, Hatake Kakashi. The jounin came to a halt a few feet away, visible eye resting on the unveiled hair. His silver hair was the only part of Kakashi that looked fresh. His attire was rumpled and slightly stained, face-mask firmly in placed and slanted hitai-ate drooping. He remained undeterred by the Uzumaki hair, though his eye showed otherwise, flaring a bit in surprise.
"Kotetsu, Izumo, the shinobi will come with me. Don't worry, I can keep my eye on him." The shinobi returned to their posts with stiff knees, whilst the Hatake led Hisato through the open gates and into Konohagakure.
As they walked through the quiet streets, the Uzumaki tucked in his hair. He spied the jounin walking in a relaxed state. He mirrored the pace and reached his hands out from his cloak. Kakashi faced him warily, and watched as he signed, [Arigato]. His escort merely nodded in return and they basked in a comfortable silence.
Kakashi looked back to Hisato as they neared the Hokage Tower. He recalled the rumours from the Bingo Book. Especially the one about Itachi. "Are you well acquainted with Uchiha Itachi?" he asked hesitantly. He knew he was prying, but that was in the nature of a paranoid ninja.
Hisato nodded slowly. At Kakashi's suspicious gaze, he sighed. His hands flew through signs, knowing the jounin could understand. [Itachi is a good person. He was put into a tight spot and made a hard decision, that is all.] Kakashi hummed and became deep in thought. Hisato hoped his cryptic words would change Kakashi's view, and that maybe his former sensei would look underneath the underneath.
The Hokage Tower appeared high before them. The lights were on and flickering brightly in the top floors. He could sense the ANBU stationed in the Tower. Many shinobi were going in and out the front doors, returning from missions and leaving on them. Kakashi set up the wall, hands in his pockets. Hisato smiled and followed him, shuddering at the nostalgia. He calmed his breathing, knowing that the Sandaime, his grandfather figure, awaited him in his office. And that whilst he knew the Hokage, the Hokage would not recognise him. At this moment, he was a potential enemy and threat to the village.
The windows showed a tired, old man at his desk. Surrounding him were multitudes of paperwork stacks. The old man was breathing out, pipe held aloft and smoke rings released into the air. Kakashi flared his chakra twice and jumped through the window. He briefly explained the situation to the Hokage and signalled for him to come in. Jiji, Hisato thought solemnly, shooting to Kakashi's side.
He bowed deeply, ignoring the well hidden shock that spiked in the room at his speed. He kept his eyes down, averting from the Hokage's penetrating stare. He rose and dared to meet that old gaze.
Eyes were on him as he signed [Request for privacy. My information must remain secret. The scarecrow can stay.] The jounin beside him twitched in annoyance. Hiruzen flicked his hand and the ANBU disappeared completely. Seals flashed, containing sound within the room and preventing eavesdroppers.
Hisato raised his hands and lifted the hood from his face. It fell back to reveal his red hair, seemingly stained with darker shades that resembled blood. Dull violet eyes remained carefully blank of emotion. They recognised the shape of his features as strikingly similar to that of Kushina, though his outline was sharper. Kakashi found himself staring at his hair. It was the Uzumaki hair and Kitsune fur combined, in thin highlights of light and dark red. The braid flicked down to his knees.
Faint scars crossed over his neck, one vertically from the right of his chin to his collarbone, the other horizontal at the top of his throat, like someone had tried and almost succeeded in slitting his throat to spill his lifeblood.
Hiruzen narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "No doubt you're an Uzumaki. What is your name, boy?" he asked. Hisato approached the desk and fished out a brush, ink and paper. He dipped the brush, and wrote fluidly, characters appearing on the page in the spurt of a moment. He stepped back and let them read.
"Kioshi? Silent. How fitting," Kakashi muttered.
"Well, Hisato, what brings you to Konohagakure?"
The Uzumaki bowed his head. [I am looking for home.] Not a home, Kakashi noted. Just home, as if he had finally found it. The emotions he sensed swirling through the shinobi spoke of long years searching. And here he was, all alone, not a precious person left in his sight.
The Sandaime Hokage smiled. He got out of his chair and placed his hands on Hisato's shoulders. "Okaeri."
