Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Naruto or it's affiliated products.

Chapter 5

As the old adage goes, 'The more things change, the more they stay the same.'

Over the years, I've found that to be a mantra worth living by.

New names, new faces, all that blends together and one often ends up right back where they started.

I spent a concerning amount of time just staring at my new ceiling, pondering and trying to come to terms with things. I always thought I was mentally resilient and tough where it counted, but this put me through the ringer in more ways then one.

I was in Naruto for god's sake.

Kami's sake?

What religion did the Naruto world even have? There was Amaterasu and the Shinigami and you know what? Beside the point.

I like to think I'm not a cynic. I might always end up being the one calling idealists out on their rainbow colored crap, but I'm no cynic.

I'm a realist, and a realist takes stock of their situation.

So let's do some bookkeeping.

My name in this life is Asakumo Kurama, which as far as fantasy Japanese names go, that one's not bad.

My parents are Murakumo and Uroko Kurama, although I suppose stepparents is the more accurate term. My real family didn't cease to exist because I was brought here after all.

They were my real parents, my first ones that is. The Kurama were new, and they would never take that place in my mind, in my heart.

But I did have a soft spot for them and I don't know why. I could say it's Kaguya screwing with me, or maybe some of Asakumo's latent memories from before I took over, I can't say for certain.

I just know that I'm fond of them, which I suppose is a good thing since I'm apparently the heir to the whole damn clan.

What does that even mean? Naruto didn't come close to remotely explaining what being a clan head entailed. There was a council of them right? Or was I just remembering a fan theory or two I've heard over the years.

Damn, I was flying blind here, as per usual.

On that note, something else that blindsided me was Minato still being alive. I guess that means the Nine Tails attack hasn't happened yet.

Huh, I would've figured Kaguya would want me closer to when 'Canon' was happening so my impact would be more obvious.

Well, she did send Tobirama to the Warring States, so I suppose she has some creativity inside that alien skull of hers.

But the Nine Tails attack being in the future was like the Sword of Damocles hanging over my head. I don't know when it's happening or where it starts, I barely even know what the show said about it.

There was something about an Uchiha with a grudge against Kakashi trying to release the Fox for some asinine reason. Minato and his wife both died, and Naruto was left an orphan and Jinchuriki.

Also a whole bunch of people died.

Like a whole lot of people.

That's all I know about the thing, which isn't much to go off of if I want to stop it.

If I even could stop it.

I'm four.

I think I'm handling that rather well. I wasn't sobbing in a ball or having a mental schism, which I consider to be coping rather effectively.

Sure my body was smaller, my hands and feet clumsier, and what little hand eye coordination I had was completely gone, but I was alive!

I'm not letting that jubilation pass anytime soon.

But to get back on track, I suppose my body's been running on autopilot or something the past couple of years. The memories of that time are still floating around, still clicking into place. Eventually I'd have some sort of coherent timeline of what happened before I woke up.

I hope.

Zetsu must've done a number on my brain.

And ain't that a terrifying prospect? I remember being me, but a small voice in the back of my head kept whispering.

What if I was wrong?

What if all my memories were just Zetsu pulling some sort of cosmic prank?

What if there was no me to begin with?

It was an unpleasant thought, so I'm not gonna think on it.

Repression prevents depression I always say.

But let's get back to memories, dang I'm rambling today. I've got a grasp on what I should know as Asakumo. I remember a few names and faces I don't recall meeting that Asakumo did.

That's never not gonna be trippy.

At least I've got a nice little cushion to prevent me from being sent to a Yamanaka to find out how little Asakumo had a complete mental break at the ripe old age of three.

Who'd even know what they'd find inside my noggin?

Two psyches?

A subconscious temple to Kaguya that Zetsu whipped up?

I've never expected to be using the word psyche as much as I have lately.

Things were different, drastically so, and it didn't help that Asakumo was being heralded as the future of the Kurama clan either.

I barely remember the Yakumo arc of the anime, but there was something about the clan collapsing and Yakumo being their chosen one to restore their rightful place in the Village.

Seems I took her place in this timeline.

Sorry kid, didn't mean to steal your spot as the hero of the story. Or villain, given what I'd seen of the arc.

Actually I take that back, Kurenai was the real villain and I stand by that statement. Using a seal on your student without consent?

Damn lady, you screwed up big time right there.

So how was I gonna handle all this? In my last life, I left my family high and dry to pursue my own dreams. And maybe it was some of Asakumo's memories still lingering, but I had an emotional attachment to these people, to my clan.

I wasn't gonna make the same mistakes this time.

Time to make a mental to do list.

Asakumo's Checklist in Order to Save the World

1.Stop Kaguya from whatever she's doing, and prove that I meant what I said.

2.See if I can maybe get the Kurama Clam back on track, and be sure that Yakumo and our parents don't suffer the same fate as they did in canon. (Pretty sure they burned to death cause little sister had a mental breakdown)

Sub note: Prevent Kurenai from emotionally traumatizing my future little sister and causing said mental breakdown.

3.Learn Genjustu, (I'm not getting brainwashed again, not by Kaguya, not by Konoha, not by anyone. Never again.)

4.See what I can do about the Konoha centered crap. The Nine Tails Attack, the Hyuuga kerfuffle, the Uchiha Massacre and whatever other craziness that pops up. (I don't have high hopes about this step though. Once again, I'm four.)

5.Try not to die. (A bit concerning this is so low on the list.)

But first on that list, was going to sleep and hoping that I'll wake up and find out this was all a horrible dream.

It was in fact not a horrible dream.

It's just a horrible reality.

I'd awoke with high hopes, and had them brutally crushed under the weight of my new circumstances.

It's fine, I can adapt. My dad always said my family was adaptable. Let's see if that held true for Kurama as well.

I slid out of my bed and landed on the blue rug with a small thud. One thing to be said for being younger, I would've felt that in my knees back in my old body. I barely even noticed it now.

I yawned once before rubbing my eyes with my left hand.

Ok, there was something I had to check out that only my exhaustion prevented me from doing last night. I hesitantly crept towards the spot on the floor where Zetsu appeared.

It looked normal, but an eldritch abomination was involved so who knew if that was really the case. I hesitantly stuck my leg out and tapped the edge of my toe on the spot I think the plant man appeared from.

It felt like normal wood.

That was either very good or very bad, and I had no idea which.

The calligraphy desk caught my eye and I ambled towards it, anything to ignore the Zetsu Spot. It was a small wooden desk, not really remarkable in anyway. Atop the flat surface was a half empty bottle of ink and a few worn brushes. Off to the side were some written on piece of paper and I winced at how sloppily the characters were drawn. Asakumo had really bad hand writing.

Mercy of mercies, Asakumo had apparently been taught how to read, because I understood the kanji symbols that were being poorly replicated.

They looked like the symbol for Fire and Leaf.

I guess one's never too young to believe in the Will of Fire, mildly indoctrinating nationalism it is.

The next thing to catch my eye was the mirror stationed across the desk.

I had no idea what I looked like. That's, the third most disconcerting part of the past twenty-four hours.

Time to rectify that problem.

The face in the mirror was young, again not too surprising. He had rather chubby cheeks with chestnut brown hair and eyes a slightly darker shade. The hair had what I'd call an artfully ragged cut, in that it looked shaggy but also was cut really well.

It was weird that neither of my parents had brown hair, but Yakumo and I both did.

I wasn't a geneticist but I don't think that's how it works.

Now I at least knew what my own face looked like, so that was a plus on a morning shaping up to be rather crappy.

But, that's enough stalling.

Time to face the new world.

I inhaled deeply and nodded. I was gonna be here for a long time, and it'd be best to make the most of it. And that included speaking with the family, even if I wasn't sure they deserved the title.

I hesitantly left my room and stepped into the quiet hallway. Now that my brain was fully functioning I could really take in my surroundings. To the left of my room the hallway was speckled with doors on both sides, doors I knew would be for the other members of the Clan Head's close family, but the only person that filled that role was me. At the end of the hallway was the Head's personal chambers, but I could tell by the slightly open door that it was empty.

That, and the smell of something cooking on the stove.

I followed my nose and retraced my steps back into the sitting room. Someone had cleaned up since last time I was here. The Sake saucers and plates were gone and the table was pristine. Through a doorway I heard the sound of something sizzling and a discussion happening inside.

"Ugh, I have such a headache." Murakumo groaned as I made my way to the doorway.

The kitchen was brightly lit, the white a happier shade then the almost beige of the rest of the building. A bar bearing a few vases of tiger lilies separated the cooking area from the table was already set up for a meal.

Murakumo was sitting on a stool at the bar, a wince on his face as he took another swallow out of his cup. He looked tired and haggard, even more so then when I last saw him.

At the stove, Uroko was cooking something I couldn't make out from my location, but it smelled really good.

"That's what you get for trying to out drink the Hokage, with sake no less." She chided, her eyes never leaving the stove. "He was trained by Jiraiya of the Sannin after all."

"It was a matter of principle! If the Hokage outdrinks his host in the host's own home, think about the image that sends." Murakumo protested before wincing at his volume. "Damn blond, how'd he even walk straight?" He let out a pitiful groan before putting his head in his hands.

This was surprisingly suburban. I remember my family having discussion like this, while I fiddled away on my smartphone, oblivious to what was happening around me.

Perhaps the forced tech detox might do me some good.

Yeah no, I was gonna miss Wikipedia at least.

Uroko looked up from the stove and unerringly locked eyes with me. Some sort of ninja magic no doubt.

"Asakumo!" She said with a smile crinkling around her dark eyes. "Did you sleep well?"

I nodded, still unsure of how to respond.

How did a four year old talk anyway? Did I even want to keep up appearances? Because I could see that getting old real fast.

Naruto had prodigies right? Surely I could pass myself off as an early bloomer.

Right?

Murakumo looked up from his hungover induced exhaustion and smiled at me, obviously trying to hide his discomfort.

"Morning son, I hope you slept better then I did." He laughed self deprecatingly. That was an opening too good to pass up.

"Why are you so tired?" I asked giving my best impression of chibi innocence. He winced and rubbed the back of his head nervously.

"Well you see," He began.

"It's because your father doesn't know how to quit when he's ahead." Uroko interrupted as she carried a skillet to the table. She scraped some of its content onto a plate with a practiced hand before giving me a smile.

"I made omurice. Your favorite, Asakumo."

I have no idea what that is. Like not even remotely, but it smelled really good and I was really hungry.

I climbed into a chair and looked at the food that was apparently my favorite in this life.

It looked like an omelet on top of rice covered in ketchup. That was a weird combination, but it sure smelled good.

I'd eaten weirder things living on a college student's budget anyway.

Murakumo made his way to his seat at the head of the table and Uroko said at his left hand, leaving me at his right. Oddly enough, the table had forks instead of chopsticks.

Weird, but I'm not one to turn down good fortune.

I picked up the fork and started to eat.

It was really good. I can see why Uroko said this was my favorite.

She chuckled at my gusto as I practically inhaled the food in front of me.

What? It's the first time I remember eating in like four years, and I was hungry last time I was conscious anyway.

A sharp knock rang through the room and shattered any semblance of familial bliss. Murakumo looked up from his plate as his eyebrows creased into a frown.

He rose from his seat and gave a quick smile to the two of us.

"I'll be back in a moment, it's probably Unkai complaining about my laziness in Asakumo's training." The man gave a quick peck on the cheek to Uroko before heading to the door.

That was weird.

Uroko seemed to share my concerns by the way she frowned. Her forehead crinkled in thought before she shook her head with a sigh.

"Don't worry Asaku," Uroko said using what I assume is a nickname. "Your father will be back soon. Now eat up or your food will get cold." She chided.

Definite downside to being four, I hated being talked down too.

But I was curious.

"Mom?" I asked, trying out the word. It still didn't sound quite right, but it wasn't as painful as I thought it'd be.

The last person I called that died, and I still felt that void even now.

"Yes, Asakumo?" Uroko asked, not looking up from her food.

"What did Dad mean when he said that Unkai thought he was being lazy bout my training?"

Who the hell was Unkai anyway? These two talked about him like he was their version of a Karen, but with actual authority.

"Your Uncle Unkai." Uroko corrected before looking up at me with concern poorly hidden in her dark eyes. "He has a rather old fashioned view of the world from living through the Warring Clans Era. He still thinks we should train children to fight like we did back then. Straight from the cradle to the battlefield." Her hand tightened around her fork and I swear it started to bend a bit.

"The old man doesn't realize that those days are gone. No one else needs to die so young. No more families need to be torn apart like that." Tension filled the room and I was certain that the fork was gonna shatter under her grasp. But instead she sighed before releasing her death grip on the silverware. "And you don't have to be raised to be a soldier if you don't want to be." Her eyes softened and she gave me a warm smile.

"I know you said you wanted to be a shinobi, but you don't have to be. You can be anything you want, and I'll be as proud of you either way."

It'd been a long times since I'd had that sort of warm and fuzzies. A long time since my mother had said she was proud of me.

Uroko wasn't my real mother, she wasn't. But, was it so wrong to imagine if she was? To feel that kind of comfort again?

Before I could respond to Uroko's statement, and the conflicting feelings it provided, Murakumo came back into the room, looking twice as tired as when he left. He sunk into his seat and took a long drink from whatever was in his cup before placing it back on the table with an audible clink of ice cubes. I noted the trembling hand, and that set alarm bells off in my mind.

Murakumo closed his eyes and let out a frustrated groan before muttering.

"I swear, I didn't think peace would be more troublesome then war."

That boded poorly.

Uroko shared my concerns as her eyes locked onto her husband.

"What happened?" She asked, a note of tension in her voice.

"Fugaku happened." Murakumo said now rubbing his temples as though warding off a headache. "That was a messenger, the fu-." Murakumo paused with a glance to me before clearing his throat and rephrasing.

"The distinguished Uchiha Head is hosting a birthday party for his son next week, and cordially invited the Kurama Clan."

Oh, I'd completely forgotten about Itachi. I'm not even gonna get into his ethics but the man was screwed up badly and it looks like it started when he was young, if the flashbacks are anything to go by that is.

I'd have to be careful around him, he might just try and off me for the good of Konoha.

"That's not so bad." Uroko said hesitantly, her fingers tapping along the edge of the table nervously. "We aren't exactly socialites but I'm sure we can manage an hour or two of mingling, even with Uchiha."

I didn't exactly like that qualifier there. Wasn't there something about the Uchiha being persecuted by the villagers? Were the Kurama some of the tormentors?

"You missed the worst part." Murakumo countered opening his bloodshot eyes. "He's also inviting the Inuzuka, on the grounds of us both having heirs his son's age and 'Bettering the bonds between comrades'. The narcissist is trying to create a power bloc again, and he's using the party as way to negotiate subtly outside of the Hokage's notice."

Now that was slick, I doubt the Hokage wouldn't have somebody watching the party though, this is the world of shinobi.

But I'll admit, I'm not sure what Fugaku was trying to accomplish with this and why he'd want a power bloc to begin with.

Was the Uchiha Coup already in the works at this point? Was the underlying rot worse then I thought?

"And we can't refuse." Uroko ground out through gritted teeth as her delicate features twisted into a grimace and her hands clenched the table cloth. "Not with what he has on us."

"Exactly." Murakumo sighed an expression of utter defeat painting his face. "He can ask for the keys to the compound and we can't refuse him."

What the crap?

Fugaku was lowkey blackmailing us?

Why? With what?

I was so out of the loop my head hurt, and I wasn't sure things were gonna get much better anytime soon.

Something warred across Murakumo's face, as though some great battle was taking place inside his mind. He came to some conclusion, because he took another quick swallow of what I was starting to think was either alcohol or the greatest hangover cure on the planet. He bright eyes were filled with a mix of sorrow but also, was that pride? But in what?

"I'm sorry my son. I've tried hard to keep you out of the politics of the Hidden Leaf Village, but it looks like your isolation has come to an end. It's time for you to show the world the future of the Kurama Clan."

No pressure, right?

Hello there, everybody!

I'm sorry about how long this chapter took to upload, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Until next time!