The after-life was different from what Naruto had imagined. He decided he must be in hell for being letting all his precious friends die before him. Hinata's smiling face—scratched, filthy, bloodstained, and beautiful as ever. Dead. It was freshly burned into his thoughts. A piercing sorrow that would never go away. He was definitely in hell. Well, besides the uncomfortably hard ground and stiff neck, it wasn't all that bad. There certainly didn't seem to be a fiery pit crawling with souls of the damned.

Naruto pried open his eyes and was greeted by the cracked, dusty ceiling of a room. He blinked, slightly disorientated. Very much not what he was expecting. Then sat up, ignoring the thick, throbbing sensation in his head that accompanied the motion. Looking around, he began to wonder if maybe he wasn't dead, and still trapped in the Cloaked Man's genjutsu. Surely death wasn't supposed to be this simple.

The space was sparsely furnished, although it was difficult to tell for sure underneath all the garbage bags and instant ramen cups that were scattered around. There was a small bed, two cabinets and a potted plant positioned so that it hid one of the more unsightly fractures in the wall. The sporadically placed posters obviously shared the same job.

Naruto twisted his neck around so that he could see the wall closest to his head. A large Konoha sign hanging over the bed immediately caught his eye. The slightest shred of recognition stirred. He scrambled to his feet, head pounding harder still, trying to grasp it. He knew he knew the answer, but it was dangling just out of his reach. The fact that everything seemed a little bigger than normal didn't exactly help his concentration.

Naruto flopped onto the rumpled bed. Thinking through the pain was exhausting, frustrating and not working. He was obviously not dead, so maybe everything was created by genjutsu. That or he'd been knocked out, healed, cleaned and delivered from the battlefield into a room specifically designed to confuse him to death.

He was just about to give up and close his eyes when he saw the ramen poster. The one he'd glimpsed before blacking out, so fleeting that he'd simply dismissed it as his imagination. Naruto let out a strangled gasp.

This was his room. Without a doubt, that was his poster, his bed, his faithful potted plant. About sixteen years ago, this was what he called home.

Naruto rushed to the windows, brushed the drapes aside and felt his jaw drop. Konoha looked virtually new in the beaming evening sun. But what truly surprised him wasn't the fact that the diverse buildings were all completely intact. It was the people. The hundreds of people wandering the streets openly. Even children were out, weaving through crowds, shouting, laughing, playing without a care in the world. Naruto couldn't remember the last time he could walk around freely and not worry about assassins or a fresh attack on the village.

A loud knock tore his gaze from the miracle to the door. His heart sped up even more. Who could it be? The mystery man? An enemy shinobi? Whoever it was, they had answers.

Halfway to the entrance, a pulse of pain made Naruto double over. He clutched his head, teeth gritted, wiling it to pass. The knock came again, louder, as if the person was growing impatient.

"NARUTO! GET YOUR GODDAMNED ASS OUT HERE!"

He knew that voice.

Naruto nearly tore down the door in his haste.

Two slightly taken-aback genin stood at the front step. One was a girl with long pink hair and a form-fitting red dress. The forehead she was always so conscious of was creased into a scowl.

The other was a dark-haired boy with a pretty face. His black eyes glared at Naruto over a high shirt collar. There was a look of annoyance in his eyes, still innocent and mostly untouched by hatred. Naruto's most trusted ally, best friend and brother in every way except blood. He'd died fighting the enemy, taking a good fifth of their forces with him.

Behind the two was a man with silvery hair that stuck up haphazardly. He wore his trademark mask that covered the bottom half of his face and a hitai-ate slanted over one eye. The uncovered eye staring at him was a little less than three quarters of the way open, but they were open. That was more than Naruto could ever ask for.

He gaped at the three, his mind racing and somehow not going anywhere. They couldn't really be here. The three had to be transformed enemy shinobi who… Who what? Perfectly replicated his room and village and knocked on his door disguised as his deceased friends from twenty years ago? Redundant didn't even begin to cover that. Impossible was a close second.

Maybe, Naruto realized with a sinking feeling, they were just part of a genjutsu and were going to be used to torture him. It was hard to believe that with the detail he now noticed. Exactly as he remembered, from the unhappy wrinkle between Sasuke's brows to Kakashi's unique relaxed, yet somehow alert slouch. Even so, better safe than sorry. He automatically lifted his hands into the ram seal, summoning the chakra he'd need to break the illusion,

"Kai!"

Nothing happened. Sakura and Sasuke's faces went from irritated to incredulous. Their teammate was acting a little crazy.

"Haaah? What are you doing, you idiot? We came all this way to get you and you're still in your pajamas! You're unbelievable, right Sasuke?"

"Hmph. Idiot."

Naruto barely heard them. Ideas were forming, developing and being squashed in his head faster than the speed of light. He'd confirmed he wasn't under the Cloaked Man's genjutsu. Unless of course, he happened to have the Mangekyo Sharingan and put him under Tsukuyomi. That was too unlikely. Nothing significant had happened to him so far, and considering the amount of chakra it used up, any reasonably intelligent person would cram as much pain as possible into the few minutes they could sustain it. Then, amidst the shifting thoughts, there was a spark of hope.

A ridiculous idea was starting to take shape. A crazy, wild, foolish idea. He was sure he never would have come across it, even in the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind, any other day. Fortunately or unfortunately, this wasn't any other day. If everything at that moment was really happening—without a single trick involved—and Team Seven really was standing at his doorstep, it could only mean one thing.

The pieces fit, but he needed confirmation.

"Hey Naruto, are you even listening to me? Shaaaanaro!" Sakura yelling fell deaf on Naruto's ears as he dashed back into the apartment.

A split second of hesition. The mirror, the mirror, where was the mirror… There, pushed into the corner of the room.

And sure enough, a boy, no older than twelve years old gawked back at him, his messy blond hair and inexplicable whisker marks exactly as Naruto remembered it nineteen years ago. He lifted his right arm. The boy mimicked him. Bright blue eyes went from mild surprise, to knowing, and then terrifically overwhelmed.

He felt a tremendous stab of pain in his brain, and fell to the floor unconscious.

Afterthoughts:

Man, I'm really having trouble with the 'flow' of thoughts here. It's kinda difficult to write about without first-hand experience (well, duh).

But I got it done and that's what matters in the end.

I hope it's not too bad :)