Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
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Chapter Two - Unfortunately Orange
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The first thing Minato saw upon waking up was a bowl of ramen. This bowl of ramen was, rather strangely, defying all laws of gravity the way only a bowl of ramen could, and floating noodle down over his upturned face. 'Eat me,' it said in a whispery voice, and Minato deduced that he was probably dreaming.
The concept of being able to dream was strange. He had spent eleven years (though if he were to attempt to put a name what it had felt like, he'd have called it eternity) in the Shinigami's stomach never sleeping and never dreaming, having lost the ability to do so when he'd lost his sense of time. He never hoped, and he never forgot, and he never did think it possible that he'd ever come back to life again. Yet here he was.
Minato blinked and the floating bowl of ramen vanished, much to his relief, and was replaced by the sharp, stinging smell of antiseptic and the unforgiving white of a hospital ceiling.
The hospital, Minato realised, Konoha's hospital. There was a distinct lack of the nothingness he had gotten used to.
Minato shook the heavy fog of sleep away, noting distantly that the movement hadn't caused him the usual nausea, and clarity bled slowly into his surroundings. He could hear the beep of the monitors, the soft, shuffling steps of passing nurses, the noise of the civilian market outside his window; he could see, he could touch, he could breathe.
'I'm alive,' Minato whispered to himself, and then he said it several more times just to make sure. The endless junk-filled nothingness of the Shinigami's stomach was gone – there was no floating onigiri, no floating arm, and no floating Akihiko the Awesome. Nothing floated, actually, and Minato realised just how much he'd come to miss the feel of gravity existing.
Minato honestly didn't know how he was supposed to feel about the whole thing. On one hand, being alive was brilliant. It was what Minato always hoped for when he allowed himself to hope, that he would be alive with his family in a true Happily Ever After (Shinobi Style). On the other hand, Naruto was dead, and he was alive, and nothing was the way it should have been.
Guilt didn't have to worm its way into Minato's heart. It had already found a home there, right in the centre. He felt better than he'd ever felt before – stronger, healthier – bursting with energy and chakra; but beneath the surface of Naruto's bright power the Kyuubi lurked, malicious and angry and whispering kill, kill, kill – Minato forced it down. Was this what Naruto had had to deal with on a daily basis? Minato felt his stomach clench. The villagers didn't know how lucky they were to be alive.
Curiously, Minato peered down at the seal on his navel, and made a mental note to do something about it. It had weakened slightly with the sudden loss of Naruto's soul and would have to be reinforced. Minato was fairly sure he wouldn't be able to do it himself. He had seen Naruto's failed attempts at making bunshin; it was obvious that Naruto's body didn't have the chakra control to pull off such a complicated and precise sealing technique. Plus, Jiraiya would definitely find out that someone had tampered with the seal the next time he checked up on Naruto. Speaking of which, Minato still wanted to beat the Toad Sage into the afterlife for having abandoned his son.
Minato sighed and ran his hands through his hair. No one saw just how much Naruto hurt, how lonely he was. He always masked his feelings with loud grins and louder pranks – Kushina used to do the exact same thing as a child – pleading for attention the only way he could. Minato frowned. He would have to change the villagers' perception of Naruto. They would accept him, and they would love him. Naruto wasn't the Kyuubi, and Minato would make them see that.
And he had to find some way to kill Madara too…
The door was kicked in suddenly with a horribly loud bang, and Minato jumped. He hadn't sensed anyone nearby. That was unnerving, he really should have. Naruto's senses were unfortunately poor.
There was a nurse standing in the doorway, dark and angry and looking like the harbinger of doom. She scowled furiously at Minato and strode in, her shoulders tense. Minato flinched back involuntarily. He hadn't done anything wrong!
'Demon –' the nurse cleared her throat and bustled over, giving Minato a cursory look over. 'Uzumaki, you're cleared to go.'
Minato froze, shocked into silence by the look of anger and hatred on her face. How was he supposed to change something like that? The nurse didn't seem to notice and she leaned over, tugging at the blankets. 'I said,' she snarled, 'leave.'
'Now, now, Miko-san, that's no way to treat a child.'
The nurse's head snapped up, and she whirled around in a shock that quickly turned to fear. 'Sandaime-sama!' she gasped, eyes wide. 'I wasn't – I didn't –'
Sarutobi Hiruzen stood in the doorway, eyes and smile icy and looking nothing like the kindly grandfather Minato knew he was to Naruto. 'Dismissed, Miko-san,' he said, his voice cold. 'I think you'll find it unnecessary to return to work tomorrow.'
Miko fled, bowing hurriedly as she passed.
Minato was, meanwhile, having a little problem of his own. He had vastly underestimated the hatred Naruto was subject to everyday, and it was getting harder and harder not to want to kill the villagers for what they'd done (yes, that's it, kill, kill them all – Minato shoved the Kyuubi away) to this son. Still, Naruto had never let that get him down. He couldn't either.
'Naruto?'
Minato glanced up. Sarutobi's face was kind again, though he looked even older and far more tired than he had when he'd first entered the room. Minato shifted and twisted his hands in the blanket.
'Old man, I'm hungry,' he said abruptly, channelling Naruto as best as he could. He had been able to catch glimpses of Naruto growing up, but it was never enough, and Minato was ashamed to note that he didn't know his son very well at all.
Sarutobi smiled gently, reaching out to ruffle Minato's hair. Minato leaned into the touch. He'd missed Sarutobi, and was glad to see that he was well. 'That's no surprise, Naruto-kun,' the old man laughed, 'you've been asleep two days.'
'Two days!' Minato cried, horrified. 'I've missed two days of ramen?'
Sarutobi chuckled. 'Let's go make up for it then. I've got –' Sarutobi paused here, looking shifty, '– lots of time.'
Minato grinned inwardly. He was probably running from his paperwork again. Minato himself had done it many times as Hokage, often leaving his shadow clones to complete his paperwork while he hung out with Kushina or Kakashi for lunch at Ichiraku. His grin faded. He really missed Kushina.
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Sarutobi watched in contemplative silence as Naruto dug into his ramen with an enthusiasm that was rather lacking. Sarutobi knew that he couldn't expect the boy to leap back to his feet so soon after The Incident (Sarutobi knew full well how close Naruto had been to death that day, having felt Naruto's heart stutter to a stop a few times), but he had been hoping that he would have. An unenthusiastic Naruto just wasn't Naruto, and Sarutobi couldn't bear the thought that he might have failed to properly protect Minato's last living legacy.
The mob of villagers who had attacked Naruto had all been privately executed, their bodies returned to their families. Sarutobi had been quite horrified to find out that Shinobi had been part of the mob too – they'd been the ones who had dealt the killing blows. He understood that civilians, being wholly unfamiliar with the fine art of fuuinjutsu, would be less accepting of the security of Minato's seal, but Shinobi too? Sarutobi was, in a word, disappointed.
And that wasn't the only worrying thing. There was a high-ranking officer on the inside who wanted Naruto dead and who had changed the ANBU guard detail. That was the only reason why Naruto had been unprotected during the precious five minutes it had taken to beat him near to death: they had attacked while the guards were changing shifts. It meant also that the mob hadn't been spontaneous – it had been planned, and Sarutobi didn't know who on earth could have planned it.
He sighed, and rubbed at his temples tiredly. He'd upped the security and ANBU patrols, taking measures to ensure that at no point in time would Naruto be unwatched. It was the best he could do with a potential traitor on the inside. He could only hope now that it would be enough, and that he wouldn't fail the boy he loved like a grandson.
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Minato watched the Sandaime out of the corner of his eye as he ate. The old man hadn't touched his food beyond the occasional noodle, and Minato was beginning to feel rather mean for having dragged him all the way to Ichiraku for lunch he didn't seem to want. Sarutobi looked like he needed peace and quiet and a good cup of sake, though Minato did appreciate his company more than he could currently describe in words.
'…Old man,' Minato chirped, grinning hesitantly and tugging gently at Sarutobi's sleeve to get his attention.
Sarutobi's head swivelled around and he jerked as though breaking out of a trance. 'Yes, Naruto?'
Minato looked down at the remainder of his broth and prodded at it with a chopstick, flushing slightly. 'Thanks for spending time with me,' he said, 'I'm really glad that you could.' And he really meant it. He hadn't been able to spend much time with the Sandaime when he had been alive – too much of his time had been taken up fighting the Third Great Shinobi War – and he was sure that Naruto had loved each and every second the old man had managed to put aside for him, if only just to ask how his day had gone.
Sarutobi's eyes softened and he ruffled Minato's hair affectionately, earning an irritated scowl from the boy. 'I'm actually hiding from my paperwork,' he said in a conspiratorial whisper.
Minato felt his face split into a genuine grin. 'Paperwork won't scare me when I'm Hokage!' he announced (it was completely untrue, of course. The thought of paperwork made Minato want to cry), 'Believe it!'
Sarutobi laughed and finally made a move towards his chopsticks. 'You'll think differently when you become Hokage, my boy. Just wait and see.' The dark chuckle that accompanied his words was strangely unnerving.
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When they got to Naruto's apartment, which was, conveniently, only a few blocks away from Ichiraku, the Sandaime bid Minato goodbye and left, leaving Minato to fumble with the keys.
The apartment was small but fairly comfortable. The kitchen had all the necessary appliances and cabinets and was also, in Minato's opinion, quite horribly messy. The countertops were covered in empty ramen cups, and the mess spread all the way down to the floor and up again onto the small wooden table in the centre of the kitchen like some sort of weird, mutated bacteria. A few dirty dishes and a carton of expired milk took up the only ramen-free space on the table. Minato wrinkled his nose delicately. He really needed to clean.
The living room was small, but decent. An empty, dusty bookshelf (that Minato decided he would need to fill; he really liked his books), a small blue sofa, and a coffee table. The floor space was mostly covered in scrolls, test papers (Naruto scored an average of two points on every single one of them), and Academy-issued textbooks. Minato grabbed a random one off the floor and felt his heart clench. The textbooks had been tampered with: important pages had been ripped out and replaced with false information. He tossed the textbook away in disgust. It was no wonder that Naruto turned out being the dead last of the Academy.
Upon entering the bedroom, Minato was greeted by piles of dirty laundry. A dark blue shirt and a matching pair of trousers lay crumpled in a dusty corner underneath the window – was it just him, or was there something green growing on the sleeve of the shirt? Eventually, Minato gathered all the dirty clothes and dumped them all into the broken laundry basket for cleaning (which he planned to do as soon as possible). None of the dirty clothes were orange, Minato noted suspiciously, and when he opened Naruto's wardrobe, he realised why that was the case.
Ye Gods, the orange!
Minato felt his eyes burn. Orange jacket, orange jacket, orange trousers, orange shirt, orange trousers… Oh, God, no! He'd been aware of Naruto's love for orange, but this was too much! It was probably genetic, Minato decided, and probably Kushina's fault. She had loved wearing red and orange – often both together, which usually made her look like she was on fire. Minato much preferred his blacks and blues. He'd settle for an inconvenient white, even Gai green, but orange…! Minato drew the line at running about in an orange jumpsuit. It was bad for one's image, bad for stealth, and detrimental to one's sanity.
Minato eyed the basket of dirty laundry and sighed, burying his face in his hands.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
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A/N: Look, another chapter! And only after a day too :D Some parts, I found, sound kinda awkward, like Minato's conversation with Sarutobi at Ichiraku. It seems lacking, somehow. Also, Minato's emotions in the beginning were fairly difficult to write. How would one feel upon having replaced one's child? But anyway, I do hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Reviews are appreciated :) They motivate me!
Speaking of which, Guest, this is a reply to your review: Thanks for reviewing! I really appreciate it :) To answer your question, Naruto was eleven when he died, maybe a two or three months before the Genin exam. This is so Minato has time to adjust to Naruto's body (oh my, that sounds really weird). The story isn't be pre-Academy. I'm glad you like Minato!Naruto too! We need more Minato!Naruto fics around :P