The disgruntled Rokudaime tapped his pen on the desk in a continuous, monotonous rhythm. It filled the otherwise silent room with a quiet echo and did little to ease Kakashi's disheartenment. He'd gone over every possible scenario in his head five times and sent countless teams to every area in and out of the Land of Fire. It rained just three days after the Nanadaime went missing so not even his ninken could follow his scent anymore. All trails led to nothing and after nearly two weeks, Kakashi was growing seriously weary.
Not only did he long to return to his easy lifestyle again, reading books and exploring hot springs with Guy, but he was beginning to feel some sort of heartache. Naruto was his student. His sensei's son. The boy he watched save the shinobi world and turn into a fine Hokage. Though Naruto was grown up, and far past being called a boy, Kakashi still couldn't help but feel a little like he'd lost a child in some strange sense.
Fatherhood was never on Kakashi's list of desires but after Minato and Kushina died, he did feel a sense of obligation to watch over Naruto. At first, it was a nuisance, constantly keeping tabs on the young troublemaker and ensuring his safety from the shadows... but being his teacher taught him that there was more to that boy than trouble. He was even kind of sweet sometimes.
And, he reminded Kakashi so much of Minato, which was never a bad thing in Kakashi's eyes.
Now that blue-eyed boy was missing and they had no more info about his disappearance than they did when they first found out. Naruto left no traces. Could it be possible this was his own doing? Kakashi couldn't see Naruto doing something like that... he loved the village with all his might... and, apart from all the loathsome paperwork, Naruto loved being Hokage. Disappearing with no trace, well, it didn't sit right with Kakashi.
A knock on the office doors snapped Kakashi out of his never-ending circle of tiresome thoughts.
"Come in," he called with a sigh.
The door creaked open and Sasuke entered, nearly stumbling. He caught the doorframe just as Kakashi poofed to his side.
"What the hell happened to you?" The silver-haired man muttered as he watched the dark-haired man try to catch his breath.
"I'm fine, just acute chakra exhaustion. I used the Rinnegan to get back to the village... probably not the greatest idea since I've been using it almost non-stop since Naruto disappeared," Sasuke said, sighing heavily as he leaned back against the doorframe, peering at the ceiling with one drained, onyx eye. "Any info?"
"No," Kakashi said, pacing the office. "I can't imagine... I mean, Naruto would never just disappear. And without a single trace."
"I searched everywhere with my Rinnegan. Every land, every village, every town..."
"It's like he fell off the face of the planet."
"You don't think he-" Sasuke stopped mid-sentence, taking careful note of the drained look in Kakashi's face.
"He's not dead, my ninken would've found him," the older one stated bluntly.
Both men found themselves at a loss for words, just the same as their loss for ideas and, though neither would admit it, lost hope. Kakashi made his way back to the desk and fell hard into the chair, running a hand through his plumped hair.
"Get some rest, Sasuke. You look terrible. I'll send for you if anything comes up."
"Yeah, yeah."
With that, Sasuke left the office and started home. He hadn't been home in over two weeks, he was sure Sakura and Sarada would be glad to see him. Still, it didn't feel right going home while Naruto was still missing.
It suddenly occurred to him the agony Hinata and the kids must've been feeling. He decided, rather hesitantly, to stop by and see them. Sasuke was never one for kind words or encouragement—his childhood was anything but that, from the way his father scolded him about living up to his older brother to the way Itachi's voice played over and over in his head, calling him to darkness and hatred and power—needless to say, the Uchiha knew little about soft approaches. He tried to recall his mother but memories of her were mostly drowned out by other things, after everything that happened in his life.
So he drew from what he did remember about her: she always loved giving gifts. Just small ones, never anything too drastic, to let those close to her know how much they meant to her. He still holds on to the first kunai knife he ever received... though battered and dull and almost useless now, it meant a whole deal to him because it was a gift from his mother.
As evening drew close, evident by the cooling air and darkening sky, he thought about what he might get for Hinata and the kids. Flowers were too... soft. Too womanly. Something Sakura might get for them. And he wanted Boruto to feel included in the gift too. He supposed he could stop by Tenten's weapon shop for a nice katana for Boruto, but he thought better of it, realizing the time. Stores would be closed by now. And, Sasuke pondered, the gift needed to be more thoughtful than practical. He wanted it to make a statement, to let them know of his care for Naruto and for their family, despite his tragic and rather pathetic inability to express feelings.
As he passed the street that led to the village gates, he overheard some Chunin talking as they returned from a mission.
"I heard Nanadaime is missing," the one man whispered, careful of his words as if they were taboo.
The other man didn't catch onto the taboo theme at all, expressing his surprise loudly. "Nanadaime is missing?" he exclaimed, his voice echoing down the empty street. The other chunin shushed him quickly.
"Nobody can know! I'm not even supposed to know. I found out when I overheard an ANBU team heading out to search."
Sasuke slid gracefully into an alleyway and allowed himself to be enveloped in shadows. He even masked his chakra to ensure the men couldn't sense his presence.
"Please, he's probably left the office on purpose to get a break," the more blatant man scoffed. "You've seen the shadow clones he sends to all his interviews. The man must be exhausted from all that work."
"He is a very busy man," the other agreed.
Sasuke was about to forget it and keep moving along until he heard the chunin say, "He probably went fishing. I'd like to go fishing, you know it's been a while since..."
Sasuke hardly had the mental power to keep listening to the chunin blab on about fishing because he was too tiredly focused on the light bulb that was dimly lit in his chakra-fatigued brain.
His legs moved before he'd even fully processed his actions, but his brain was working overtime and as soon as the idea popped into his head, he went with it.
He'd gift Hinata and the kids that box of the Fourth Hokage's old mementos from that old fishing shed. Not like the usuratonkachi would ever go near the box himself. Sasuke had witnessed Shikamaru mention the box to Naruto on countless occasions and every time, Naruto waved it off despite Shikamaru's comments about the importance of family histories and passing on special techniques and memories.
It was risky but he knew he could take Naruto on if he flipped out over the whole ordeal. And Sasuke knew that the box would bring a small comfort to the hurting family.
When he got to the shed, he was surprised to see the door hanging wide open. His first thought was that it had somehow been broken in to, despite all the shinobi seals and special chakra locks placed around all the doors and even the small window. The man furrowed his dark brows as he approached the shed and noticed a white cloth fluttering in the breeze as it hung over the top of the open door. Upon closer inspection, Sasuke noticed red flames riding up the back of the cloth.
It wasn't a cloth at all. It was the Nanadaime's cloak.
He didn't waste a moment, stepping into the shed and looking for anything unusual. The box he was coming here for in the first place, the one of the Yondaime's old stuff, was lying open and scrolls and sealed kunai were spread out around it, some lodged into the old wood floor and others sprawled randomly.
It was a peculiar sight, to say the least.
Sasuke bent down, getting a closer look at the scrolls sprawled open on the floor. One of them was of old scroll paper, labeled Flying Thunder God, yet in pristine condition, written in stark black ink and some strange language. He activated his sharingan to inspect it further but the letters looked the same, strange and unreadable. The other scroll was half-written in a familiar handwriting, that of the Nanadaime, and a fountain pen was still uncapped on the floor beside it.
He read what Naruto had written, unable to suppress his rising curiosity. He'd heard about the Flying Thunder God technique and it was nothing short of intriguing. Teleportation even faster than his own rinnegan could ever hope to accomplish. Planting seals on your opponents or, in the Yondaime's case, on kunai knives, and teleporting to them at will. It appeared Naruto had finally taken an interest in translating the old scroll. Though, it would surprise him if the usuratonkachi could ever figure out such a complex jutsu, even with a full translation at his disposal, which he certainly didn't have.
Something clicked. Sasuke's chest dropped into his stomach in a moment of fearsome realization. Naruto was just enough of an idiot to try it, and from what Sasuke could conceive of the unfinished translation, it was just enough to resemble a time-space justu, though very rough around the edges. And Sauske knows the difficulties of time-space jutsus thanks to his rinnegan. Without every tiny aspect of a jutsu so complicated as the Yondaime's Flying Thunder God technique, it was sure to fail. How, he did not know.
He picked the half-translated scroll up on the floor and held it in the palms of his hands. Trying it himself would be sure to end in disaster, especially now when he was already on the brink of total chakra exhaustion.
With a loathsome sigh, Sasuke scooped up the rest of the contents of the box and sped off to the Hokage's office. His muscles were weak and every step shot waves of pain and exhaustion but he pushed on. He only hoped Kakashi hadn't left yet. The thought made him sprint even faster, tapping into what little chakra he had left.
Two men, so familiar with each other yet both strangers to the other, knelt on the tatami mat, taking humble sips of hot tea. Neither man knew quite what to say, having already exhausted most of their small-talk options. All that remained for discussion were things relating to Naruto himself, his situation, why he was here-in the past-and how he was planning to get back. But all of these questions remained unsaid, the only true indicator that Jiraiya even knew who Naruto was being the smirk he just couldn't keep away. The Sage kept his eyes low, trying and failing to hide the knowing look in his pearly-black eyes.
As soon as he'd seen the blonde man, he knew something was up. He never quite believed the 'cousin of Minato' story when Minato had told him, and then meeting the supposed cousin simply confirmed his suspicions. Not that he'd automatically assumed this supposed cousin was a time-traveler, cause he hadn't, but seeing Naruto, a near replica of Minato, did raise some suspicions.
He'd always believed in time travel but never thought he'd come face-to-face with one himself. And his student's son, of all people. Judging by the lines barely forming in the creases of the blonde man's ocean blue eyes, he was likely in his thirties. If Minato and Kushina had a child in the next few years as they've discussed, that would mean Naruto came from about three decades ahead in the timeline.
He eyed the young man curiously whenever he wasn't looking at him. It was back and forth, each man trying to catch a glimpse of the other when their counterpart was not looking. Both men equally amazed, curious, and incredibly reserved. Naruto wasn't about to speak up and risk spilling something he shouldn't, and Jiraiya wasn't about to mess with the timeline, however tempting it was to ask about the future successes of his novels. He wondered if Icha Icha ever blew up. The thought made him blush.
"So how did you end up here anyway?" the grey-haired man asked, deciding to finally break the awkward silence. He was walking on thin ice, talking to a man from the future. He wondered how much the future might have already changed simply by knowing. Or maybe that was the time-traveler's purpose all along, to change things. Perhaps the future was much worse than this time now, and Naruto was here with good intentions. Or, perhaps he was here with selfish intentions, bound to change things for his own good at the detriment of others. All these thoughts about time and outcomes made the older man's stomach jolt a little, sick with worry and excitement and intrigue all at once.
"It was an accident," the blonde answered, eyes far-off in thought. His brows furrowed as he tried and failed to hide his inner conflict. "Well, I think it was an accident. But maybe nothing is truly an accident."
Jiraiya chuckled at this, drawing those confused blue eyes back to himself. "Thinking too many philosophical things will lead to madness, you know."
Naruto softened at this, relaxing back on his knees and cupping his now-warm tea. "You're probably right. But thinking too little isn't an option either," he mutters, voice low with caution. Jiraiya could see the conflict once again rising in the younger man. "I don't know what to do. I thought about opening up to my Da-... to Minato," he quickly recovered, eyes darting to the open windows, mind intricately aware of Kakashi's chakra signature in a nearby tree-branch.
"Kakashi's fast asleep," the older one mentioned, squinting and perfectly reading the younger man. "No need to censor your words boy." Naruto's chest fluttered at this, remembering his old mentor for a moment. Jiraiya always had a way about reading people so perfectly. "I won't be the one to tell anyone anything. Your words are safe with me."
Jiraiya almost winked. Naruto almost laughed. But somehow, joking didn't feel quite right. Neither man felt right about the whole situation so they both erred on the side of secrecy, despite already knowing and reading each other so well. It didn't matter anyways, the connection they shared in this moment spoke far louder than words ever could.
"I was trying to translate Minato's Flying Thunder God technique when-" Kurama's chakra caused the half-translated jutsu to fail terribly, he wanted to say. But he couldn't exactly tell Jiraiya he was the jinchuriki of the Nine Tails, or Jiraiya would know for sure that Kushina will die. He's just good enough to put those pieces together and maybe figure out all the events of that night. It certainly wouldn't surprise him, wise as Jiraiya was. "When I overshot the jutsu and ended up here, in the past. Something about it being a time-space jutsu, I really managed to screw it up," Naruto laughed under his breath, unable to feel anything but utterly stupid and dealing with the shame through laughter.
The older one just grunted, brows furrowed in thought. His eyes were mirrors, glazed over in another world entirely. "I'm no time-space master but I know it would take an awful lot of chakra to overshoot thirty years into the past," Jiraiya mulled, eyes deadpan as he glared at the younger man in accusation. Naruto's fists clenched in his lap, the only outward sign of the distress unspooling within him.
He tried not to pursue the topic any further but Jiraiya seemed to consciously change the subject in such a creative way, "I was speaking to Kushina about you. She's quite fond of you. Said you're brilliant, just like her husband. Said the kyuubi even stirs when you're around. She's never liked that demon fox, but said he grows with intrigue in your presence."
"Hm," is all Naruto had to say in reply, neither confirming nor denying the Sage's observation. He kept his hands folded around his tea, finger running circles around the rim of the cup to give his mind something to do other than running wild, which it wanted to so badly.
The silence once again stretched between the men before Jiraiya pushed himself up with a grunt, stretching his muscles one by one.
"Just choose your actions carefully, son. With a clear mind. A burden such as yours can take affect on the mind easily and cause clouded judgement. But in the end, I do not know the future; only you do, and I can't tell you what to do." Without another glance, the long-haired Sage turned, leaving Naruto alone with his tea and a spinning whirlwind of thoughts.
Naruto returned to Konoha, suddenly feeling homesick. Funny, he was home but not truly-his home was where his family was. His family was here, technically, his mother and father... but his true family was in the future with Hinata, Boruto and Himawari.
Naruto ran into Kakashi as he made his way to the Hokage's tower. He leaped in front of the blonde man, totally closed off, his eyes closed and arms folded tightly across his chest. The only sign of whatever relaxed nature he had left was that he'd removed the porcelain ANBU mask. It dangled loosely in his left hand folded under his arm. After a moment of wondering what exaclly the young ANBU was trying to accomplish, Naruto asked the young boy how much he overheard. Kakashi claimed to have no idea what the blonde was talking about. Kakashi was always a terrible liar.
Panting, Sasuke arrived at the Hokage's office to see Kakashi in the exact same place he left him, tapping his pen mindlessly, eyes cast away in some far-off world of thought. He held the box of the Yondaime's things and Kakashi squinted at his student, confusion clear on his features.
"Sasuke, I'm not interested in rummaging through old artifacts right now."
Sasuke, straight to the point as he was, told the older man without reserve, "I think Naruto was messing around with time-space ninjutsu."
This caught the lazy Rokudaime's attention, apparent by a single raised eyebrow, forming more wrinkles on the old man's already wrinkling forehead. He circled around the desk and stared down at the cardboard box in Sasuke's arms.
"Well," he uttered. "Summon Shikimaru and we can get to work on figuring what the hell happened to him... or where the hell he went," the Rokudaime added, rather inquisitively, as if not understanding the words coming from his own mouth.
Sighing, Sasuke dropped the heavy box on the Hokage's desk and sent one of his hawks for Shikamaru. The Nara arrived not even ten minutes later, to both tired men's surprise, totally dressed and looking completely rested.
"The hell you been doing all this time?" Sasuke grunts, nodding to Shikamaru's pristine appearance and apparent wakefulness.
"Sleeping," Shikamaru answered with a shrug. "Can't think straight when you're sleep deprived." Shikamaru's statement seemed arrogantly pointed at Sasuke but he just shrugged the Nara off.
"Hm."
"Just because I'm not exhausting all my chakra like you doesn't mean I don't care about the issue," Shikamaru shot back nonchalantly, brushing past Sasuke to examine the contents of the box. Sasuke just huffed, rolling a crack out of his neck before explaining the situation to Shikamaru. He and Shikamaru were never good friends, but they were usually always good at separating work from personal matters.
The Nara began scanning the scrolls and contents of the box with flickering eyes, mind getting to work immediately with a focus Sasuke could never hope to achieve. Sasuke, though not a huge fan of Shikamaru Nara, had to acknowledge his talent for problem solving.
Within just a few minutes, Shikamaru had already figured out the Flying Thunder God scroll and the trick to translating it. He sat at the Hokage's desk, examining both the original scroll and Naruto's rough, unfinished translation while Kakashi stood idly behind him, nodding along with his murmurs. Sasuke paced, unsure of his place in all this. Though he may have been top of the class in the academy, he truly had no interest in book-stuff. He would rather be out searching, fighting, training... quite frankly doing anything than pacing and feeling restless.
"If you're not gonna go home and rest, you should sit," Kakashi motioned to the chair on the other side of the desk. "Unless you intend on wearing a hole in this floor. Another problem we don't have time for."
Sasuke begrudgingly obliged, falling into the chair in a hopeless relief. "What do we have?" he asked, sigh edging in his voice.
"Well," the Nara grunted in reply. "Considering the Nanadaime disappeared without a trace, it's plausible he's overshot this attempted translation of a jutsu and time traveled."
Sauske stared deadpan at Shikamaru who dared to stare right back.
"You have a better explanation?" Shikamaru drawled.
"It seems ludicrous to me, but," Sasuke replied in turn, slumping his shoulders, "I trust your judgement."
"That's a surprise," Shikamaru breathed, barely audible.
"I don't think you're stupid," The other man uttered in annoyance.
Shikamaru cackled, "That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
Sasuke brushed the Nara's comment off and folded his hands under his chin, leaning in to see the half-translated jutsu formula sprawled across the pages. "So the idiot tried to perform an unfinished version of the Yondaime's time-space teleportation jutsu and..." the words felt weird on his tongue and he sighed heavily. It was the strangest, yet most reliable information they'd found yet. He forced the words from his throat hesitantly, "...and he teleported through time."
"Precisely," Shikamaru echoed, though his voice carried the same confused and bewildered tone as the other dark-haired man. Kakashi was long past words. He just stood behind Shikamaru's chair, equally perplexed and exhausted as the three men glared at the scrolls laid across the desk.
"What now?" Kakashi droned.
They all stood silently, brains either too exhausted or too stunned to think straight. For once, even Shikamaru had no plan. This was completely unordinary in every way.
Kushina danced from one counter to another, then to the stove and back to the counter where she skillfully chopped vegetables to throw into the boiling pot on the stove. Naruto sat at a bar-chair behind the small kitchen island and watched, perplexed, as the fiery-haired woman cooked without a recipe, seeming to know exactly what she was doing.
"How do you do that?" he finally asked, as he fumbled terribly with a potato, trying his best to peel it without cutting himself. "I'm terrible at cooking. Instant ramen is about as far as I can go."
The woman smiled softly as she chopped a carrot with precision. "I couldn't always cook, but I learned. Because I wanted to make Minato happy. But, truthfully, he tends to do most of the cooking around here." Kushina tossed the carrot bits into the stew-in-the-making and twirled back to lean on the counter, watching with a smirk as Naruto struggled to peel the potato. "But he's been so busy lately with all his Hokage stuff, and you know, trying to recuperate the village after the war... and dealing with Kakashi."
"What's wrong with Kakashi?" To Naruto's eyes, Kakashi was just the same as he was in the present, albeit more of an attitude-more of a stick up his ass than his adult self. Naruto laughed under his breath, thinking about the lazy, porn-addicted man and wondering what his younger self would think of his older version. It would be quite the show if they ever met each other.
Kushina didn't share the same easy-going attitude towards the subject of Kakashi. With a frown, she set her knife down and headed to the stove, stirring the pot in repetitive motions, hiding her face from the blonde man.
"I didn't mean to hit a sore spot," Naruto muttered, guilt starting to creep in. He really didn't know how to act around this woman. Meeting her in his subconscious was much easier when he was a teenager, when both of them could be open about their connection with each other. When both knew they were family. It's easier to be mother and son, even without a history together, than just two people with vague hints of familiarity. But here, Naruto was just a stranger to his mother. He was a nobody from out of town, visiting and intruding in her home. Suddenly, Naruto felt slightly ill.
Kushina didn't turn, just kept stirring the stew more than it probably needed if only to busy herself. Then, to Naruto's surprise and great relief, Kushina turned, eyes soft and caring, just like they were in his subconscious many years ago.
"I'm sorry... it's just been hard. For all of us," she added. "Not just Minato, not just Kakashi... the war affected everyone in some way or another. The people we lost," she paused, fidgeting with her fingers before deciding to sit at the island across from Naruto and help him peel.
"I understand," he said quietly, because that's all he could really say. He wished he could be open and honest with her, about how he lived through the fourth shinobi war and all the people that were lost. He and Hinata lost Neji, a dear friend and cousin. Shikamaru and Ino lost their fathers. Kakashi lost Obito, for a second time. That's right, he realized, at this point in time, Kakashi had just lost both his teammates. It finally clicked.
Treading carefully, Naruto opened up the subject again. "Kakashi lost his teammates, didn't he?"
Kushina nodded, keeping focused on the vegetables she was peeling. "Obito and Rin. Both within such a short span. I-I was close with them too. I loved them. They felt... they felt a bit like my own children."
When she finally looked up and caught the blonde man's soft, blue eyes, she visibly relaxed. Perhaps it was because he reminded her of her husband, which would make sense as they were near copies of each other. Or perhaps, Naruto thought, it was because of this supposed 'connection' Jiraiya claimed they had through Kurama. The Kurama in Naruto had stayed surprisingly quiet to this point, though he was sure there'd be some stirring if he went in to check on him. Afterall, there was another one of him nearby, held captive inside of Kushina. His previous self... before coming to terms with humans. Before meeting Naruto and forming that bridge between sulking in anger and working alongside his host.
Naruto could remember the days of a monster stirring anger inside of him constantly, always eager to break out and release his vast power. He remembered speaking to the angry fox for the first time, the coldness he felt deep within his heart, even through the bars. The anger threatening to take over Naruto's own heart. The anger that preyed on every weakness Naruto had, including his own pain and sorrow.
As he looked at the woman across from him, part of him shriveled. He finally noticed the brokenness in her eyes. The sadness daring to creep in; and the anger deep within, not of her own volition. And the loneliness. Loneliness that, even years later, can never go away. He didn't know all the details of his mother's childhood before Minato came along, but he knew enough from his own childhood to understand the pain she felt. The burden she carried.
"Minato mentioned something about the Nine Tailed Fox," Naruto said with reserve, trying his best to sound unknowing yet understanding. Unaware and non-judgemental. "About you being the jinchuriki."
Kushina furrowed her soft brows, eyes trying to read the blonde man. Unsure what he was getting at.
"And, well, I just wanted to say I understand some of that pain."
"How could you?" she muttered.
Because I am a jinchuriki too. Naruto was walking on ice far too thin. He knew it but he couldn't stop."I struggled with acceptance as a child. My parents, they... they died when I was young and I had a hard time making friends. I struggled to make connections with others. I turned to pranks and misbehaviour to deal with my loneliness, because it was the only way I could get others to notice me." He slid the knife down the side of the potato, trying his best to keep from spilling everything to his mother. Her soft, caring eyes were looming over him. It would be so easy to break in her presence. "So I kind of get the loneliness you might still feel sometimes. Because even now, even years later with all that struggle in the past-with people who've accepted me for who I am and all the bonds I've made-I still feel lonely sometimes." The words rang especially true now. Even though he was surrounded by familiar faces, he felt so terribly alone. So terribly helpless.
He laughed a little then. Just a subtle cackle, melancholy as it was. Laughing to deal with the pain, he supposed. Or maybe laughing because he felt uncomfortable with the way Kushina was looking at him just then. Fiery eyes that read deep into his soul, forcing their way past all the barriers he tried so hard to keep up. The image he tried to maintain here, for the protection of time.
She pointed out the blood dripping from Naruto's finger just then, noticing the cut before he even knew.
"H-Here, I'll get a bandage for it-" she started, but stopped short when the wound healed over almost immediately.
Fear took rise in Naruto just then. He couldn't have helped it, even if he did notice the cut. He heals quickly, regardless if he wants to or not. A side effect of Kurama's chakra. Never would he have thought about such a tiny detail, something so automatic, until now. Kushina just stood, one hand holding herself steady against the counter as she tried to understand what just happened. Naruto had no words, no excuses came to mind. Quite frankly, he was tired of making excuses and covering his identity with lies and half-truths.
Naruto was torn between relief and fear; both tried to take hold of him at once, causing him to blank. Should he feel relieved that this lie between them was finally breaking down or fearsome of that fact? Afraid for what she might find out?
"How did you-" she startled, once again at a loss for words. Then her brows lowered ever so slightly, looking on the man with mulling suspicion.
"I heal quickly."
"I can see that," Kushina murmured, eyes glazed over in thought. Naruto knew there was no explaining this one, and no going back. She'd assume as she would and nothing he could say would make her think otherwise. "I do too, but... I thought I was the only one."
Naruto tried to shrug off the topic, eager to get away from the situation. Minato should be getting back soon enough, and he could only hope his return would soften the tension in the room.
"So you claim to be a cousin of Minato, huh?"
Just then, the front door of the apartment clicked open and Naruto's racing heart jumped in mild relief. He was saved, at least for this moment.
"Wow, something smells amazing," Minato chimed from the entranceway. Kushina continued to stare deeply at Naruto, lips hanging slightly open and eyes amidst. The beginnings of a frown formed on her features then, and Naruto wanted nothing more than to go back in time and be more damn careful with that peeling knife.
When Minato entered the kitchen, he froze, reading the suffocating tension in the room.
"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, watching carefully as his wife stood staring like a statue. Naruto broke his own statued form and turned to the other blonde man.
"No, not at all," he said a bit too eagerly. "We were just making dinner. Well, Kushina was making dinner and I was struggling to peel a potato." He cast his eyes down on the bloodied cutting board and knife, careful to hide his already healed hand in his lap.
"Ah," Minato chimed in realization, making his way around the counter to kiss his wife on the forehead. "Kushina's not a big fan of blood."
"Oh," Naruto answered, trying to sound normal but failing terribly. He knew Kushina's reaction was more than just a fear-response. But just how much did she infer? How much could she infer with what little information she had? Naruto wasn't even born yet. Possibly not even conceived, or conceptualized. How could she ever assume he was her child and the future jinchuriki of the Nine Tails? It was a stretch, to say the least. Naruto managed to relax a bit, trying not to read too much into Kushina's reaction.
"I'll go clean up for dinner then," Minato said as he headed down the apartment hallway.
Desperate not to be alone with Kushina in this moment, Naruto stood up too. "I should clean up too. I never got a chance to shower after my last mission." He followed Minato down the hall and slid into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and slumping in temporary relief. The hot shower only nulled his racing mind temporarily, as he tried to sort through the last half-hour's events.
He'd made his first real slip-up. He couldn't help but wonder how many more mistakes he would make. And how many it would take before people figured him out. Would that even be so bad? Would that change the fabric of time too significantly? And how would he even be able to know the answer to that without letting it happen first?
Perhaps he'd try it, perhaps he wouldn't. Perhaps he was just too tired right now and needed a good night's rest.