Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of his creator, Masashi Kishimoto, and various other companies. We all know I'm not making any money out of this; just playing with the characters a bit.
A/N: Very first Naruto drabble I wrote since getting sucked into the fandom just about a month ago. Hope you won't find them OOC.
As for Yondaime, I'm using the popular fandom name Arashi because you can't possibly not use a name at all in several pages! When/if we find out that he's got a different name, I shall come back and edit this.
Sarutobi's body gave a sudden shudder. The pain searing through his abdomen was excruciating but he ignored it. He had to; there was no way he could let go now. With what strength remained in him, he gripped his opponent's shoulders tighter.
So this was what Arashi had had to endure.
Suddenly yanking himself away from Orochimaru and feeling his life slowly leaving his body, the old shinobi closed his eyes to reminisce that fateful night.
> > >
Arashi stood on the balcony of his modest house, both hands clenching the banister so tight that his knuckles had turned white. Ashen-faced, a solitary tear running down his cheek, he stared in the distance at the monster approaching their village, threatening to destroy everything they had worked so hard to build.
His voice was barely more than a whisper. "She's dead…"
The old man looked down.
"Arashi, I'm sorry—"
"Why was she even out there? What was she doing out there?"
His words weren't harsh; he wasn't blaming the old man, or anybody for that matter. It was a simple question, coming from a man who, in one night, had lost everything—or was about to. Sarutobi stood still by the window, arms hooked behind his back.
"She…she died doing what she did best. She brought tremendous help…" He knew his words would bring little comfort. Besides, they couldn't afford to waste much more time talking.
"Arashi, the Kyuubi's getting closer by the minute. If he gets here, the village won't stand a chance. I know how deeply affected you are, but we have to—"
"I know exactly what we're going to do," Arashi interrupted. "There isn't much time. I've prepared myself and I know I'll win this fight. But there's something I must ask you to do."
Saying so, the young man turned around, sadness showing all over his face.
The house was completely still. Sarutobi had never imagined silence could feel so overpowering. Staring at the young Hokage's bright blue eyes, he realised that, for the first time in all these years, he could not fully decipher what he saw in them.
And suddenly it hit him. He had seen the scrolls on the table while walking towards the window. He had thought he'd seen it wrong; Arashi couldn't possibly want to do such a thing…
"Surely, you don't mean to use—"
"Sarutobi, listen to me."
"Hokage-sama!" the old man suddenly cried, taking a step forward. It was a title he never used while talking to Arashi. "You know what that particular jutsu entails as well as I do. I can't let you do this."
"Of course I know; we invented it together, remember?" He walked towards the old man and forced him to stand up again. "But you know that there is no other way. We could send all the shinobi we have and we wouldn't get rid of it. We can either waste all our warriors and condemn our village, or use this and save it."
Sarutobi placed his hands on the young man's shoulders. "Arashi, I am an old man. I've lived my life. Let me do it."
Arashi shook his head sadly. "It's my duty, Sarutobi-sama."
"But your—"
"Please. I want my vengeance. He killed her; I will get rid of him in return."
The expression in Arashi's eyes was unmistakable now; the young man had made up his mind and nothing was going to dissuade him. Sarutobi's shoulders dropped and he looked down.
"Besides, there's a twist to it."
"What do you want me to do, Arashi?"
Arashi smiled; it was the feeblest of smiles, but a smile nonetheless.
He walked back into the living room and down the corridor, leaving the old man alone for a short while. When he came back, he was holding something in his arms. Careless eyes might have mistaken it for a vulgar bundle of sheets, but by the way the young man had carefully placed it in the hollow of his arms, Sarutobi knew.
"Naruto…?"
Arashi looked down. With extreme caution, he loosened the blanket ever so slightly to stroke the cheek of the infant with the back of his index finger. Those slow and careful movements, so full of tenderness and love, coming from Konoha's "Yellow Flash", would stay with Sarutobi for the rest of his life.
"I told you before that there was a twist… I've come to realise that that technique alone wouldn't get rid of it. So I need a container. And it can't be me, as we know."
The old man gasped, his eyes opening wide. "Wh—What? But why? Why him, your own son? Arashi, you can't seriously—"
"I'll seal it within his body. But I'll do it so that their chakra can mix if need be. He'll be able to learn how to do that when he's old enough."
"But…the monster…inside him? What will people say? Think about what you're doing to the boy!"
Arashi wasn't listening. "He'll learn; I trust him. And when he masters the technique, he'll be so powerful… Just like I wanted him to be. No one will be able to rival with him."
For several seconds, Sarutobi stared in silence at the scene before his eyes, until Arashi came out of his reverie.
"Here's what I want you to do," the young man said, speaking more quietly. "You're going to follow us, leaving a reasonable distance so the Kyuubi doesn't see you. When we get there, I want you to order all the shinobi to retreat. After my task is done, come and retrieve him from the ruins and bring him back to the village."
Sarutobi was speechless. Of course, he knew there was no way Arashi's plan would fail, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. The young man slowly walked out on the balcony again. With the same careful gesture, he loosened the blanket a bit more around his son's head to uncover his hair. As he gently ran his fingers through the blond locks identical to his, his words were barely more than a whisper, but Sarutobi's sharp ears heard them anyway.
"I love you so much, Naruto… I'm sorry you'll have no memories of your parents. I'm sorry I won't be there when you grow up…" He had to stop as the words died in his throat. Another tear rolled down his cheek and dropped on the infant's face, who didn't even stir. Arashi wiped it dry with his thumb. "But I'll be watching you, I promise," he managed to add, withdrawing his gaze from his son's face and staring at the Hokage monument.
Holding Naruto closer to his chest, he turned towards Sarutobi again. "I hope the people of Konoha will remember me. I want you to look after him and make sure he becomes a fine shinobi. Make sure he learns how to control this ability I'm about to give him. And, most importantly, make sure he becomes a good man. A man I can be proud of. I want the village to know what a hero he is; he's about to save them all."
Stepping back into the living room, Arashi kissed Naruto's forehead. "I love you. And so did your mother." Before reaching the door, he turned towards Sarutobi again. "Tell Jiraiya-sensei and Kakashi-kun that I couldn't have wished for a better teacher and a better student. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye and I hope they'll understand." He paused for a second and did his best to smile one last time. "We will meet again, Sarutobi-sama."
> > >
After having successfully deprived Orochimaru of the use of both his arms, Sarutobi let himself fall on the ground. He never felt the blade being removed from his flesh. The last tear to leave his eye was for his friend and the promises he had not fulfilled. He'd always thought he would have so much time and could afford to wait until Naruto was older.
- THE END -
