This is a fanfic I've wanted to write for a long time, always imagining different ways the Naruto universe could've played out, from the smallest of details to the biggest of story lines. I'm really excited to dive into this. Here's what I'm considering the official description, which gives you a little more details than website summaries will allow:
"What if the story of Naruto Uzumaki that you know wasn't the real story? What if the story of Naruto was much bigger than just the one gusty ninja? This is the real story, a story much darker, much more brutal, and much intimate than it was ever told before.
The Leaf is my attempt to rewrite the Naruto series from start to finish, keeping some of the of the canon, changing some of the canon, inventing a lot of new things, and trying to reimagine the story from its very roots. In this story, the ninja world expands far beyond just Naruto and his friends, but at the same time, it gives a more intimate look at all of your favorite characters. The story follows a long timeline, moving between the world before ninjas, the ninja history before Naruto, and the Naruto storyline itself. Main ships are NaruHina, ShikaTema, SasuSaku, but there are multiple minor ships too, with lots of overlapping OCs. Some light inspirations from other series.
Ready to read a new version of Naruto?"
Some general warnings for this story, there will be some pretty graphic depictions of violence and some major character deaths - though the heavy parts of it will come later. And much, much, later there will be some depictions of non-consensual sex/rape. I plan on putting those warnings on those specific chapters when they happen.
My goal to have weekly to bi-weekly updates, dependent on my schedule and chapter lengths. With all that said, thanks for being interested in this story, and happy reading.
MiHo
What, above all, is the essential material for living life? Food. This is what I tell myself every morning when I awake, kneading and pressing noodles for the ramen I will make that day. People need food to live. So, I don't mind waking at five am every morning, whipping together soft noodles to throw into spiced boiling vats of broth. I'll grill up meat, cherishing the sizzle of its pink softness when it first hits the burner. A few hours after me, my daughter will awake, cutting up vegetables, wiping off counters, prepping our restaurant for the day. Together we'll watch as The Leaf Village comes to life, with sun seeping in through the city, casting rays of light over the stone faces of the Hokage. And just as life comes together in the village, everything, eventually, comes together in the pot. We broil, we stir, and we mix and soon we have pots of delicious ramen to feed all the stirring life of the Leaf Village. I pour a bowl of ramen and watch the soft scent of the steam rises up into faces with a smile, and know, I bring life to the village.
And I also observed life too. I'm nearing ninety now; my father opened this ramen shop underneath the reign of the first Hokage, Hashirama Senju, soon after the Leaf Village's founding. He was just a boy then, sixteen and doing the only thing he knew how to do—feed people. It would be years later, under the reign of Tobirama Senju and during the Second Ninja War that I was born. By the time I was old enough to totter between the long racks of noodles, watching my father shape the dough, peace was brought on and Hiruzen Sarutobi had taken over as our Third Hokage. My father told me the secret then, when I was younger and learning the trade—that this ramen shop was magic, because it allowed you to observe life. The wars would go and come, the kages would age or die heroes, and the shadowy faces on the mountains would change. But again and again people return for a hot bowl of ramen and a place to feel safe in at the end of the day.
"We bring life to this village, my son, and in turn, we are allowed to witness its stories."
He was right; life continued on and The Leaf Village expanded and grew with each passing war. People died and people lived, the shop had to be rebuilt a good handful of times, and yet people continued to come for ramen. I grew older, and slowly, my father tottered around me while I walked, making sure I maintained the quality he expected. Eventually he passed and I was left with an aching space of what he meant to me. I married to fill that space, with a beautiful wife who gave me a precious little girl. Together we made ramen, and together we witnessed life that came from it.
At one point my wife and I became fond of a young girl—Kushina was her name. She was wily and loud, with long red hair and a hot-blooded attitude to match. The first time she came into the ramen shop she had no money, but instead offered to do an hour's worth of work for a bowl of hot ramen. She said so with such vitality and sincerity that we offered a bowl for free, demanding only an hour of her time and energy for entertainment, not work. The girl had stories to tell, great energy and vigor, and at the end of her meal she pointed her chopsticks up at the Hokage Mountain and said "just watch, one day I'll be carved up there."
Kushina continued to come in, bringing to us joy and stories, and the type of essence and full-hearted belief in life we had never seen before. Kushina reminded us to of how badly we wanted children and when Ayame was born she was the first one there, cooing over our daughter, offering her little gifts, and telling her she was sure to teach her how to be tough. Kushina was a young lady by then and being romanced by the ninja who was rumored to become the next Hokage. When they married and his Hokage candidacy was announced, we asked her, jokingly, if she intended to usurp his position and become Hokage herself. She laughed at us and said "Being the Hokage's wife is a lot like being Hokage, only you're not required to be so damn formal all the time!" And then slurped, loudly, to finish off her ramen. Ayame, a toddler by then, and head over heels for Aunty Kushina, giggled and began to mimic the gesture in her own ramen eating. Ayame was thrilled when less than a year later Kushina announced her own pregnancy, climbing into her lap and pressing on her belly.
However, the excitement didn't last long, for every life in The Leaf Village changed on the night the Nine-Tailed Fox attacked. I had lived through multiple wars and attacks, I had seen, what I believed to be the cruelest acts of man, but I had never seen anything like the Nine-Tailed Beast. Nothing could describe the sheer size of the creature, the redness of its fur, bright like all the blood it shed that night. I had never been more terrified in my entire life. We were preparing to flee, heading to one of the safe houses Minato had prepared for non-ninjas during times of upset, when Kushina showed up. She was heavily pregnant by then, panting and struggling, and she called upon me and my wife, "I don't know what's going to happen tonight, but please promise me to protect my baby." We promised, diligently, before Kushina was dragged away by attendants. In all the panic, we hadn't realized Kushina had been in labor.
In my worst moments I blamed Kushina. She had made us hesitate, had stopped us for a few moments, so that we finally did flee, the timing wasn't right. It wasn't Kushina Uzumaki's fault that the Nine-Tails crushed a building on top of my wife. I know it's not her fault. But I am human, and humans have a tendency towards darkness sometimes. I just wish so desperately that my wife was still alive, that Ayame hadn't witnessed her mother's own death. And sometimes I know, that if we had left just a few moments earlier, then maybe it wouldn't have happened.
The aching space left behind by my father had never really gone away and now a new space formed beside him, that of my dead wife. I had to witness, as well, the space my wife left behind in Ayame—she never slurped her ramen anymore. Like many in the village, I don't quite understand what happened the night of the Nine-Tails attack. I do know that Kushina and Minato didn't make it, and for a while, I didn't believe their child had either. About five or six years after the attack, I found out his real fate.
There was a scuffle happening in front of the shop, a gaggle of boys bullying another. I scared them away. The beaten one, instead of laying down as I suspected he would, jumped up and shouted "I'll show you one day! I'll be Hokage, and then you'll know who I am! I'm Naruto Uzumaki!"
For a moment I just stared at him. In looks, he was all Minato, unruly blonde hair and bright blue eyes that lit up with the determination. But the way he held himself, the vitality at which he insisted he was going to be Hokage—it was all Kushina. He carried in him the same life my wife and I first found so appealing in her.
"Hey, you said your name was Uzumaki, right?" I asked him.
"Yeah, what's it to you," he said, with the type of sass Kushina would have been proud of.
"You ever try ramen?"
Naruto loved the ramen and treated his food with more respect than I had ever seen anyone else do. He became a regular customer at our place, sometimes paying and sometimes not. Whenever he couldn't, Ayame would recruit him for some little chores she didn't want to do herself. He never complained, only attacked it as adamantly as he would do anything, always bursting forth with energy and, I realized, hope. Naruto Uzumaki did not have an easy life, he lacked in both parents and friends—but I had never witnessed a human life filled with such hope and determination. The ninjas often speak of the "will of fire," of a determination they all wanted to carry within themselves. And Naruto, he was the walking epitome of the will of fire. I enjoyed watching Naruto grow as much as I enjoyed watching Kushina grow, and I saw more and more of her in him every day. He never mentioned her and neither did I. I understood that Naruto did not know who his parents were, and I also understood that I should not be the one to tell him.
As I said, I'm nearing ninety now. I'm the one who totters around Ayame, making sure she upholds the quality I expect our restaurant to deliver. She runs the place now, I only just help in the mornings. A few years ago, we hired new workers so we could expand and lately, one of them has been asking me for my permission to propose to Ayame. When I see them working together, I see reflection of my younger self and my wife. I know my daughter will be okay when I'm gone. I spend my days now doing what we elderly do best, lounging around and reminiscing about how things were in the old days. Despite the entirety of the village being destroyed during the Fourth Ninja War, we've always rebuilt the shop in the same place, off the main street and right under the shadow of the Hokage Mountain. Kushina never made it up there, but both the solemn faces of her husband and son stare out at me now. I dwell on Naruto's for a moment, wondering if he'll bring his children in for a bowl of ramen, as he often does on the weekends.
Naruto Uzumaki became a hero among heroes. He excelled more than anyone, even himself, ever could have hoped. The thing is though, when you learn to witness life, you learn that the heroic stories aren't always what they seem. Yes, Naruto was certainly heroic, but unlike some accounts, the story wasn't just about him. Life isn't just one person, life is all the connections one makes throughout life, all the overlapping stories that make up its entirety. If there's anything I'll do in my old age, it will be that, it will be to tell the story as it should be.
My accounts may sometimes be mixed up, and they may not be what you know was exactly true, but let me tell you this, I've had a more intimate perspective on the people of the Leaf Village than any writer could ever claim to have. I wouldn't be exaggerating when I say my authority is sound, because the story of Naruto Uzumaki isn't just a story of Naruto, it's the story of the incredibly gusty ninja—and his friends.
It would make sense that the story begins when Naruto entered the academy, at the ripe age of eight, as every person with an affinity for being a shinobi does. It was here that the first strands of connection made their way through the story. It was here that Naruto first stumbled upon the other ninja who would become the friends, whose names and faces and stories are too often lost when recalling the story of Naruto Uzumaki.
Hinata Hygua, with her light eyes turned toward the ground, casting a tentative look at the looming eyes of the academy teacher. Shikamaru Naru, walking through the door with a loud yawn and then, a groan as the sun hits his eyes. Sasuke Uchiha, moving to the furthest corner and casting glares at the other children. Sakura Haruno and Ino Yamanaka stumbling in hand and hand, freshly picked flowers between their fingers and decorating their hair. Chouji Akamichi crunching on some snacks, Kiba Inuzuka and his pup, Akamaru, Shino Aburame listening to the sounds of busy ants and bees who buzzed just outside the window. Children who Naruto had seen moving in and around the Leaf Village before, but never in ways that had yet to make a significant impact on his young mind.
Iruka Umino silently gulped as these children strolled in. It was Iruka's first day as an academy teacher and he was nervous. Nervous, he thought, because a bunch of eight-year olds looked up at him expectantly. He had gone through all the necessary measures, throwing himself into teacher training over the past year as means to distract himself from the emptiness he hadn't been able to shake for a while now. The children facing him weren't the reason he was nervous; getting to teach them excited him more than anything. No, what made him nervous was the observations. Every new academy instructor was observed for their first few weeks of teaching. If anything went awry, the instructor was dismissed immediately. For reasons Iruka could find no answer to, the Hokage himself had decided to be the one who observed his first class. This never happened, as observations were usually done by fellow instructors, and Iruka was too nervous to question by Hiruzen Sarutobi was now sitting in the corner of his classroom, with eyes just as expectant as the children.
Iruka took a deep breath, "I'm Instructor Umino, Welcome to the Ninja Academy."
Some children looked distracted; others were rapt. A blonde kid in the front row gave him a toothy grin. Iruka softened his eyes at him.
"We're going to start by getting to know each other a little bit better," he said, "so when I call your name, stand up, and tell us a little bit about yourself. Maybe let us know why you want to be a ninja?"
Hiruzen raised an eyebrow. It wasn't often that the academy instructors tried to get to know the students. Usually they hopped right into lessons. He knew Iruka was bound to be an interesting teacher. Hiruzen had been interested in Iruka for a while, as he was for all orphaned children of the Leaf Village. He had checked in on him throughout his life, watching as Iruka grew into a kind and solid ninja, maintaining his sincerity, even when life threw hard hits in his way. When it was time to build the roster for incoming academy students, Hiruzen chose carefully, making sure certain students were in this class. Students that looked toward Iruka now.
Iruka called out a few names, many children standing up nervously and saying they want to be ninja because their parents were ninjas, a typical answer. Others, mostly boys, made feisty work of their introductions, and talked about how they wanted to be strong enough to beat people up. Iruka smiled and chuckled at the right times, encouraged students who were shy and gave comments about how being a ninja wasn't just about beating people up to the overeager ones. Hiruzen smiled lightly – Iruka was good at this. Iruka, too, felt more and more at ease as each student answered. There was a warm feeling pooling in his chest, and already, he was thinking about the ninja these children would grow into and delighted by the idea of having a hand into that.
"Hinata Hyuga," Iruka called.
Hinata looked up quickly, a bright flush spreading across her pale cheeks. She stood up and mumbled something Iruka couldn't hear.
"Could you speak a little louder?" he asked gently.
Hinata felt her heart pounding, and she shot quick glances to her classmates, who looked back at her in states both of boredom and anticipation. Her eyes lingered for a second on Naruto Uzumaki, and the blush in her cheeks deepened as she remembered when she had seen him before, two years ago, just after her mother had died. Naruto saw her noticing him and blinked a few times, like he was trying to remember something. She looked away quickly.
"I want to be a ninja because I want to protect people and the village," she said quickly, but loud enough to be heard. Then she added, remembering the harsh look her father had thrown her way earlier that morning, "because I want to do something to be proud of."
Iruka was struck by the girl's sincerity, "That's a very good answer, thank you."
Hinata nodded quickly and sat down. As Iruka called on a few other students, Hiruzen looked at the young Hyuga. Very rarely did ninja so young mention protection of the village as their reason for wanting to be a pursue this life. And there was the mission of pride too – he suspected there weren't many people in Hinata's life who were making her feel proud of herself. Sarutobi knew how the Hyuga clan worked, and it was something he had never really been a fan of but not something he felt was his place to stop. He was proud of the shake-up to the traditions that Haishi had started ten years ago – it was the very reason why Hinata existed. But since Kayda Hyuga had passed, things had been returning to what they once were.
Hiruzen glanced between Hinata and Naruto. He thought about Kayda and Kushina, about the friendship they shared, about what was meant to happen, and about what happened instead. The attack on the Leaf Village eight years ago had changed everything, and now, there were so many secrets to keep.
"Sasuke Uchiha," Iruka said next. Sasuke stood up slowly. A few seats from him, both Ino and Sakura took in small gasps and their fingers fell apart, both suddenly more aware of Sasuke than they were of each other.
"I want to be a ninja because I want to be strong enough to catch up with my brother," Sasuke said darkly and sat back down before Iruka could comment. Sibling rivalry was a common motivational factor in ninja families and Itachi Uchiha was one of the strongest, yet youngest, ninja in the Leaf Village. Neither Iruka nor Hiruzen could predict the dark, bloody day that was to come within just a few weeks, how Sasuke's statements were tinged with an irony no one could even imagine yet.
Shikamaru, Ino, and and Chouji all went next, all three answering that they wanted to be ninjas because they wanted to be like their parents. The Yamanaka, Nara, and Akamichi were long known for teaming up and following in generational footsteps, so this answer wasn't surprising. Sakura answered that she wanted to be a ninja because she didn't want to be like her parents. The young Haruno was one of the rare admits to academy who had non-ninja parents, but Hiruzen remembers the academy scouts telling him about Sakura's surprising intelligence and spark, so he had let her in. He was interested in seeing where she would go.
Kiba and Shino talked their parents and partnerships between animals. Iruka had profiles of all incoming students on hand, and he knew about the special abilities about both of these boys, knew already to expect a puppy in the classroom alongside Kiba, and the occasional beetle crawling over Shino.
Finally, Iruka looked at the last name on his list, Naruto Uzumaki. He hadn't remembered seeing the name in the profiles of students he had received weeks ago, so he assumed this student was a last-minute admit. This meant, other instructors had told him, that this student usually wouldn't be any good, it meant they weren't picked up by the first round of scouts and usually only admitted as a fluke or something else. And the name, Uzumaki, it felt familiar to him in a way he could not describe. It pitched a sinking feeling into his gut, a dark twisting drop that he knew too well, that only came when he thought too hard about his parents, about Kira, or about everything else that he had lost.
Whoever this kid was, he didn't have a good feeling about him. Hiruzen noticed the second of hesitation on Iruka's face and thought, again, about all the secrets that were starting to feel too heavy on his old shoulders.
"Naruto Uzumaki," Iruka finally said.
Naruto's response was instantaneous; he shot up in his seat, and slammed his hand on the table. Several of the other students jumped, "I'm Naruto Uzumaki and I'm going to be the strongest ninja in this class!"
For a moment, Iruka was startled, but then he recovered, "Well we can definitely all aim to be strong—"
"No," Naruto cut him off, "I will be the strongest!"
As Naruto said this, he attempted to hop on top of the desk, slipping and falling over, clumsily knocking over students and chairs. The other children burst into laughter and screams as Naruto tried to recover.
And suddenly, Iruka understood why he recognized the name, understood the twisting feeling in his gut – this was Naruto Uzumaki. Around the village, he was known as a troublemaker, an orphaned boy who pulled pranks and in general, was a nuisance to the Leaf Villagers. A lot like myself, Iruka thought, a small smile settling on his face. But then Iruka remembered something else, remembered the rumors that this kid was the reason the Fourth Hokage died, that he held a demon inside of him, that same monster that had killed Iruka's parents and so many others. A secret by decree, by dark, tumbling feeling returned to Iruka's stomach and his smile turned to a grim frown.
"Okay, let's settle," Iruka said to the children who were still laughing, pushing the feeling down. Yes, he thought, I don't have a good feeling about this kid at all.
It is easy to think the story begins here, with Naruto and his future friends, in their academy days, making shy introductions or loud shouts. But the story actually begins with a tree.
Forgive me for my rambling, but in telling you this story, you need to know, it won't always go in the order you expect. Time is a tricky thing, a constant and rounded cycle—we repeat and repeat. We'll learn later, of those who can break free of the circle of time and manipulate it how they please. They, too, will become important pieces in the story I tell. You should know, though, that this story is bound to skip around, to toss and turn and take ventures down paths that won't make sense until much later. So just bear with me, for as I said before. I'm remembering things as they are, and that means sometimes, these things shall be mixed. But isn't everything better when mixed (trust me, I make ramen for a living).
We'll spend the most time Here, with Naruto and his friends. But history makes an important impact in the Between, pushing and pulling and setting the scene. But don't forget about Before, the stories between the lines, that won't feel as prominent, but are the most important of all. And a lot of story tellers tend to ignore the Corners, but I won't – I know the part that they have to play too.
Right now, we are Here, but the tree is the beginning.
Both long ago and right now the tree is pulsing. The tree is pulsing because it is alive, more alive than anything should ever hope to be. An old gnarled thing, as tall as a mountain, its branches and trunk are dark and curled, gripping into the harshest depths of the earth and stretching up to scratch at the furthest reaches of the sky. It drips with rounded dark green leaves, which cast shadows across the land. The tree does not bear any fruit – not yet.
The tree feels everything. Every movement in the soil around it, every drop of perspiration in the air, every creature that dares lurk too close to it and then scurry away once they realize what the tree is. But the tree's perception reaches further than that. The tree can hear Hinata stumbling over her words. It can sense the stifled yawn still waiting inside Shikamaru. It was can feel the weight of Sasuke's brotherly jealously. Measure the soft touch of Ino and Sakura's once intertwined fingers. Taste the smack of Chouji's lips as he sneaks some more snacks, the grumbling of Kiba as he scratches behind Akamaru's ear, the soft sounds of the Shino's beetles as they move across his arm. The knot Iruka holds in his stomach as Hiruzen observes him. The tree feels the steam that hits my face as I stir some hot broth into a fresh bowl, the sips of my customers, the movement of feet through the village, and everything in between. The tree knows everything, it probably knows you too. Most of all, the tree can hear the peals of laughter that follow Naruto throughout the day.
The tree knows the present, the past, and the future. Life, Death, Space, Time, Fate, and Chance are strange for the tree, a pressing of undulating sheets, moving between, across, and through each other. The tree exists a millennia ago, when a soft pair of hands clutched at its newborn fruit. The tree is also chapters ahead of us, knowing what happens in those gasping moments of our hero's final breaths. The tree is finally, now, hearing the laughter of children. The tree has only just started waiting but it has also always waited, and Here, in this moment, knows the moving sheets of binded Life, Death, Space, Time, Fate, and Chance are coming to a close, that this is where all the storied threads first start to come together.