"You cannot send children off to war and expect them to come out unscathed."

Jiraiya of the Sannin

Fire seared through his veins. It all burned within his body, cruel swallowing fires that fed lavishly on bone and muscle and flesh, leaving him only with a pain he couldn't have known before now without dying shortly of the sheer intensity of this kind of suffering. Through his water-lidded eyes everything was just an unending blur of forms and colours collapsing unto themselves, moving endlessly as his legs carried him forward, ever forward, in what seemed like a flight from time itself, a flight from the pain that would send him down at any moment now, this impending doom that seemed just shy of catching up.

And yet he did not relent. Surprising even himself, his legs kept carrying him faster and faster, reaching a pace he did not remember ever attaining. They ignored the fiery pain and the exhaustion altogether, supporting himself and the burden he carried upon his back, arms holding tightly as to never let go of that weight while knowing at the same time that it would never lift from his shoulders. Not even when he would lay it to rest.

He was aware of the pain coursing through his body, but he did not feel it. Not truly. There was a veil over himself, damping everything, settling like a heavy mantle, sending everything else to some distant background inside his head. The same thoughts kept repeating themselves in his mind and they managed to hurt more than the fire in his body, more than the exhaustion biting at his muscles, more even than the wounds gaping at his sides. He kept his furious pace, not knowing where he was heading and wanting only to flee; to put as much distance as he could between him and what was behind.

But it was not behind. It was upon his back. It was inside him. He could never flee. He would have to carry it with him everywhere he went. From now on it would be beside him, the shadow of a friend that hurt more than any wound, more than anything ever would. And he would have to carry it all. He would have to carry it to the end.

oOo

Everything was quiet. Out in the streets lit only by dim lamps, nothing but a soft wind could be heard, carrying whispers of a distant storm wrecking a faraway place, long-dead howls that came only in their faintest ghosts, no more trouble than a lingering worry to those who might catch them. But at this ungodly hour no one was out, save for those few guards unlucky enough to have drawn the night shift for the day and the leader of Konohagakure herself, whose luck ran low enough that she found herself awake many a night, unable to sleep in her constant state of worry over things she could barely control, trying to distract herself with some paperwork she could hardly read and even less comprehend.

She'd done away with it all barely a month into this half-wanted position she found herself in. Why every one of her predecessors had insisted to keep these duties to themselves when they only hindered their ability to take care of more urgent problems, she would never know. An overblown pride or an unhealthy lack of trust, she could only ever guess. But whatever the case, she had Shizune, whom she trusted with her very life and confided in more than with anyone else. And besides, Kami knew that her dark haired friend was far more diligent and organised than she would ever be. She had taken to her new duties with a seriousness and an efficiency that went unrivalled by any other, only proving in the meantime that these duties were much more suited to a person of her likeness and calibre.

But there were still those papers that required the Hokage's attention, critical enough that Shizune handed them to her after having examined them. It was a far cry from the several piles of paperwork she'd inherited, but it still amounted to a hefty stack. And these times, she found herself studying them more and more, trying to fill sleepless nights with anything other than her never-ending worries about a dear friend and his charge, having yet to return after so many years.

This night was one of those. It had been, in fact, the newest one in an ongoing week of sleeplessness, feeling the very material press of her worries upon her at night, taking sleep along with everything else out of her head. Tsunade had never exactly been known for her patience and she usually gave up on sleep entirely after a little more than an hour of restlessness spent under the covers of her bed. She would then sigh in defeat, proceed to very slowly get out of her quarters, and head for her kami-forsaken office, no matter how late it was in the night. All of which usually led to where she was now, sat at her desk with an insufferable piece of paper before her sore, reddened eyes.

Her office was neatly kept, a nice airy-room with a heavy, official-looking desk set in the far centre, right next to the balcony, and several sets of filers lining the walls, the picture nicely complimented by several vividly green plants expertly set about the office. But that was another of the blessings of Kami-sent Shizune. Her friend had handled so many aspects of her office she often joked about naming her Hokage in her place. It was delightful, too, since it sent her dark-haired friend in a fit of sputtering half-sentences, cheeks warm with embarrassment, claiming she couldn't hold herself in a fight the way Tsunade could – which was only half true. Shizune was a very decent fighter, and Tsunade's perks in combat came more from her expertise in other fields – fields such as medical nindo.

Tsunade looked down once more and felt the weariness running through her old bones, eyeing the same line she had been trying to understand for what felt like hours. All she had managed to gather until now was the origin of the letter itself. No wonder Shizune had added that one to her pile. The Daimyo could not possibly be denied or ignored. Not even the more whimsical of his requests. But she could not accede to what she did not understand, and other than a mention of a name that sounded like one of the Daimyo's younger daughters, the letter was an opaque bloc of words to her, small grouping blotches of ink that found a fierce barrier somewhere between her eyes and her brain.

She huffed in a show of annoyance, but felt little of it in truth. She was too tired to feel much of anything tonight, nothing apart from the settled weariness that would not leave her. She rose from her seat in spite of her better judgement and turned towards the balcony behind her. She opened the door and a rush of wind came to greet her, fresh and sudden upon her rosing cheeks.

There was no moon tonight. The only light came from the small street lamps below, and the occasional window, although she couldn't fathom why anyone could be awake at this Kami-forsaken hour. From the standpoint of her balcony, the entire village was laid bare before her eyes. She did not know what she was looking for, eyes scanning each of the main streets she could see, each of the lit up windows scattered here and there in the buildings. It was silly, really. The village was as it had always been under her care, peaceful and silent, its residents sleeping soundly in the knowledge that their safety was guaranteed by the ones among them who had dedicated their lives to it. And yet…

Yet she couldn't find that peace herself. She'd grown used to the feeling of it all, the crushing weight of that many souls for which she was responsible. She had made her decision, after all. She'd been the one who willingly accepted to take on this mantle, and to bear the responsibility of her ancestors. It had been her turn, and what she'd seen in the boy's eyes, that indomitable

resolve in the Yondaime-like blue of his pupils, it had made her believe in all this again. Perhaps all the shinobi of Konohagakure had lost the will of fire, but as long as Naurto Uzumaki held it for them all, there was still hope for the village. There was hope, as long as he was among them. And that was the source of all her sleepless nights. It had been months. They hadn't come back. It had been so long already and they should have come home by this point; they should have sent a sign, anything at all that would comfort her, that wouldn't let her go so long in the –

Tsunade suddenly felt the railing bending under her grip. She looked down in shock, and saw the metal bar neatly broken in two halves, each of them in her hands. She blinked slowly, keeping her eyes closed as she took a deep breath, calming herself and reigning her chakra in. Shizune would be so mad when she would find out, she thought as she let out a small laugh that lacked any humour. She was about to go back in her office, ready to tuck in for the night, when she felt a sudden presence at her side. All her nerves ignited at once, chakra back in her hands as if it had never left them, and she was about to punch the intruder right in the gut when they let out the lightest of chuckles.

"Obaa-chan, you should be more careful with the building. You're just borrowing it, ya know?"

She missed her step as she was suddenly thrown into shock at the voice, having to catch herself on the damaged railing. And when her eyes met the stranger's they found the unmatched blue she had so, so feared to encounter there. That Namikaze blue. Yet his face was not the same, although the hair surrounding it held some resemblance. But it wasn't Naruto's either. The man was tall, towering her a good deal, and his features were more refined than those of the boy she remembered. There was something in the eyes, too, something different. Something that hadn't been there before. The whiskers though, the whiskers were still there, three fine lines on each side of his face, marring his cheeks like scars; a constant reminder of what they had done to him.

"I'm back," was all he let out, and before she had realized what she was about to do, she jumped in his arms. He caught her easily, if a little stiffly, remaining so for the entire duration of their hug. There was a wet streak she could feel running along her cheeks, but she ignored that as she kept whispering 'You're back' like it was a litany to preserve her very soul.

He gently grasped her shoulders, getting out of the hug. "Maybe we should go to your office? I'm sure you have some questions."

She let him lead her there, and sat down once she was presented to her own plush office chair. He took a seat across from her and politely waited as she wiped at her eyes with some cloth that had been lying there. After a few settling breaths, she finally let her eyes go back to his. "What took you so long?"

He averted his eyes slightly and shuffled, letting his awkwardness through as clear as if he had shouted it out. "There was a bit of a delay."

Only then did she notice something was amiss. "Wait, where is Jiraiya? Shouldn't he be with you?"

His entire body suddenly stiffened, and his eyes went immediately down. Before she took another breath, he was trying to hide his shaking and failing miserably. She knew that reaction. She knew it all too well. It was a familiar reaction that she could trace all the way back to her first attendances to this very office, back when she was only a child looking up to her grandfather, assisting him as he sat at her very spot, here in this office, running the village and its shinobi, handing out their missions, listening to their reports, offering sentiments as they stood in this office after having reported a death of their comrades, shaking uncontrollably, trying to avert their tears.

"No," she whispered. No. No No No No No No.

"I tried. I tried everything. But they – There was just too many of them. I – I couldn't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He was openly crying now, his eyes set upon hers, trying to convey all the extent of the grief he felt, that very grief she could feel running up her veins. It couldn't be. It just. It just couldn't. Jiraiya was the strongest of them. He was the strongest. He couldn't – he couldn't have –

"I've got him. His body, I mean. He's been preserved. I was waiting to – waiting to come back and let him have a proper burial here, in his village. I think that's what he would have wanted."

She looked at him with incredulous eyes. "Naruto, you – you must be mistaken. Jiraiya isn't..."

He only closed his eyes in response, head turning to the side before he reached inside of his vest and produced a small scroll tightly sealed, laying it on the desk between them. "Here," he said, avoiding her eyes. "It's… It's him. His body, I mean."

The silence that followed seemed like the night had closed in on them, like everything but this room had collapsed entirely, gone out of existence and leaving them and the scroll the only remaining things in the universe. And perhaps it had. Perhaps everything had faded into nothingness as she felt like it had. She just kept eyeing the scroll dubiously, another wet feeling creeping up on her cheeks, her own body beginning to shake.

oOo

He woke up by a pond. The small sounds of water splashes clued him in before his groggy eyes started blinking to clear out his blurry sight, as well as the faint smells of dampness and pond-life wafting all the way to his flaring nostrils. His mind made feeble attempts to catch up, trying to find how he could have ended up near any water source, and with the rush of memory came the barely processed grief, the swirl of guilt and anger interwoven so tightly within themselves he could barely tell them apart. He processed all that through the gut-clenching pain signals his body started sending his brain from the moment he regained consciousness.

There had been a fight. A terrible one. Their opponents – there were too many of them – they had been horrendously powerful, all focused and sending blows with surgical precision, every movement one of tactical planning and graceful economy. They hadn't stood any chance against them. Not so many, not these ones.

Jiraiya, he'd caught right up with it. They had tried to run away as soon as they'd realized the situation and their impossible odds. But by that point, it was already too late. It was all his mentor could do to offer him an escape. But then… Then –

He groaned at last, and tried to sit up.

As soon as he made the attempt, a small weight jumped on his chest, sending Naruto in high alert. Wincing through the tremendous pain the movements caused him, he managed to pull a small kunai out of his thigh pouch and was about to stab whatever was on him when the weight suddenly spoke.

"Calm down, Naruto! It's us! Just us. You're gonna be okay."

He knew that voice. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his memory, it belonged to someone. A friend, though not a human one. And when his eyes could finally see clearly, he bent his head down to see who it belonged to. It was a small toad.

It was Gamaden. It was a friend.

He was safe.

He blinked away some tears and took a good look around him. There were more toads busying themselves everywhere he could see. And among them, familiar faces, too. Gamakichi was here, face all tense and grim. Naruto groaned once more and lied back down, eyes closing before he realized it.

oOo

It couldn't be. This had to be a dream, another wicked way for her mind to torment her in her sleep, some torture so deeply twisted and efficient it only could have come from herself. Tsunade tried to reel the shaking of her shoulders back in, but the cause seemed hopeless. She kept seeing his face behind her eyes, familiar wrinkles deepening in one of his familiar smiles, his eyes laughing silently at her as he made another one of his childish jokes, or the wistful tinge they took on as he spoke of Minato and Kushina's child, the very one that sat across from her, unable to look her in the eye.

"I tried to save him." He was mumbling. "I tried. They were just… I wasn't strong enough. I was too weak. I –"

Before she had realised it, she was standing up, and making her way to him. There were still tears flowing on her cheeks, but she was no longer shaking. She was the Hokage. And he was one of her cubs. One of her own. She'd take on his pain if she had to. She was strong enough for that. She had to be.

She crouched slowly next to him and gently laid a hand upon his back. "It's okay," she said. "It's… It's okay. I know you did everything you could. I know you did him – you did him proud, Naruto. You brought him back. It's all I could have asked."

Finally, his eyes went to hers, and in the blue of his pupils she found something almost insurmountable, a whirling of grief and pain and regret; the exact thing, she thought, that must have been radiating off her brown ones. And in that instant, they knew. They understood. It didn't have to be said out loud, but it was there. Other things, too.

"Who did this, Naruto?"

Her voice remained calm and tempered as she asked, controlled words out of a controlled tongue. But there was a rumble behind it, as a wave slowly gathering in the distance, preparing to come ashore, about to crash its weight upon the land. A promise.

His eyes went up, and when blue found brown she saw the apprehension on his face, leaving her befuddled and frowning. "It won't bring him back."

Her eyes widened slightly, just before she smiled a little ruefully at him, caught entirely unawares. Somewhere, deep within her the sadness had yet to take root, a small voice was finding the situation very funny, that a youngling like him would try to give lessons to an old woman. She loved him all the more for it. Jiraiya had taught him well.

"A Sanin of Konoha has died. To let such an act go unpunished would put us in a position of weakness, which would then prompt the other villages to take advantage." Her face was still and focused as she said the words, the very mask she donned every time she had to speak as the leader of this village. It felt good, in a twisted way; to act as if she was long-past the grief whirling inside her, it helped bury it a little more.

"And that's it? Your only reason?"

She sighed then, and the fire in her eyes returned, the simmering anger placing itself back into her with such ease she almost felt fearful for a moment. "Of course not. I want these bastards to pay, whoever they are." She smiled at him, in way she hoped was reassuring. "Listen, Naruto. I am not my predecessors. I don't have their wisdom or their patience. All they left me is my stubbornness to protect this village and see it thrive under my care. I won't let any threat out there. And yes, all kami be damned, I want my friend to be avenged, no matter how stupid it is."

He smiled back at her, but there was no mirth in his eyes. "Good. I hoped you'd help me."

oOo

He had found it at last. Although the sight unfolding in front of his eyes did nothing to bring him even the tiniest modicum of joy. Destroyed buildings were sprawled upon each other, undistinguishable masses of debris lying open like so many giant beasts; defeated corpses revealing their bowels to the world.

The village was in ruins, nothing left standing of what must have once been a proud and advanced city. But he had known that before coming. Uzushiogakure had paid the price for its difference. The jealousy it had inspired upon its enemies had been enough to quell their own squabbles between themselves. Enough to inspire a war, for the sole reason of reigning it back.

He made his slow way through the ravaged streets, having to clear debris on several occasions, taking the time to inspect what little was left standing of the buildings. Here and there, some shop fronts were scattered on the ground, partially destroyed, their writings scraped off by time and war. There was nothing to be found inside the destroyed buildings but dust and rocks and the occasional object, each telling the same story, that of people desperate to flee, trying to bring with them what little they could of a life they were forced to abandon. And then, eventually, he found what he had dreaded to come upon.

It was a small thing, half-hidden under a pile of torn-off walls and heavy boulders, buried so deep under the ever-present dust he had almost missed it entirely. But once his eyes had caught the desolate sight, it was everything he could see, its presence so logical in a place like this, yet so revolting it was all he could do not to scream and tear what little was left of the building in rage. Because the skull was so small and broken, the child could not have been more than five.

He crouched down next to the bone-white remains and stood unmoving for a time, lost in a tangled mess of thoughts he had no hope of clearing out. This was so long ago, it hardly mattered for what was left of those involved. And yet, to him, it felt close, like it had just happened, leaving a wound that ran so deep it reached all the way to his heart.

Keeping his eyes tightly shut, Naruto took a deep, calming breath and stood up again. A quick sign with his hands and a few dozen copies of himself stood in these ruins, facing him. They had all the same harrowing look upon their faces. He guessed that must be what he looked like as well.

"Scatter through the city and look for any signs of our clan's home. You know the symbol to look for. Dispel yourself once you've found it or if you've found what could be their leader's building."

They all answered by the affirmative before rushing outside, intent on completing their task. He followed them out, although he took a more quiet and abated pace, wanting more to visit the village than to take part in their search.

He found more remains of fleeing citizens, all turned to bone remains, sometimes grouped in entire piles so tall it was impossible to tell how many lives lost he was witnessing at once, sometimes by themselves or close to a few others, and he could only guess at what had happened, what specific story had had them meet their end where he found them. The piles, of course, were the easiest to decipher. He tried not to dwell on it too long and moved on, taking everything in, cutting down thoughts before they became too much. He had never seen an open graveyard before but he had promised himself he would come to this one before he returned to Konoha. Because it was his history, laid before him in all of its gruesome, inescapable state. This is where Mom used to live, he told himself. This is where Jiisan and Baasan were, once. All of these opportunities lost, all of these connections, simply gone. He didn't even know if he had any family left. Jiraiya hadn't known, although he'd help process it all. But his godfather was gone now, and he needed to know. He had to make sure he was the last of his name, if there was truly no family left to save.

He spent the better part of an hour wandering in the ruins of what had been Uzushiogakure, leaving what he guessed was the village's main avenues to explore narrow streets and back-alleys bordered by smaller buildings, left in equal ruins as the standing halves of high-rise ones he had seen before. There were always more bones, more objects left in the desperate hurry of the moment, and he felt truly glad when the memories of a recently dispelled clone rushed to his mind, giving him a location and with it, purpose. At least he'd found his family's home. As he made his way there, Naruto tried to clear out his mind and steel himself for what was waiting for him. There would be more of Uzushio's tragic past to be found there he knew, and this one would be all the more personal.

The Uzumaki clan's estate was just as destroyed as the rest of the village. Of the walls little remained but fallen blocks left in rubble, mere piles of rock and concrete that joined those of the inner buildings they were meant to protect. Walls, he knew, were only as strong as the people crewing them. Yet the knowledge did little to soothe the sudden whirl of emotions swarming the front of his mind.

He made his way through what must have once been a tall, imposing entrance, now reduced to rubble and dust, and walked towards what he remembered from one of his clones who had seen a piece of building marked by their symbol before dispelling himself to show Naruto the way. It was there, lying on top of the ever-present debris. He scanned the area for a few brief moments, before his eyes settled upon the base of what must have been the largest of the buildings – the head's home quarters.

In what felt like a lifetime ago now, Jiraiya had told him everything he knew of his family. His father Minato, of little heritage himself, the child cared for by a single father until the man was killed in mission, and how he had practically been adopted into the Uzumaki clan after he'd fallen for his mother. Kushina, who had been a Jinchuuriki herself, Kushina, from whom, per Jiraiya's words, he had inherited his fiery temper, his ambition, and his devotion to his friends. And most of all, his godfather had told him once, half in fondness and in irritation, his unwavering stubbornness in the face of impossible odds.

But here, in front of his ravaged ancestors' home, he felt little of the fire he was famous for. Naruto was cold and lonely, and there was no one in sight to warm him up, no one to quell the distressed feelings that were rampaging through his mind. Jiraiya would have told him how silly he was being for letting himself get overcome by such feelings; Jiraiya would make one of his goofy perverted jokes to distract him from them or promise to teach him a new impressive jutsu, but Jiraiya was gone, too, and there was no one left to support him, cheer him up, and help him to keep going in spite of everything. Now, in the ruins of a past he hadn't even had the chance to know, Naruto felt alone. It was all he felt, and although he tried to smile as he always did, the grin did not reach his eyes.

Pushing past the overwhelming feelings to focus on the task, he quickly made the tiger sign with his hands and stood silently as a dozen clones appeared in a large puff of smoke. "Search through the clan's ground and clear out the rubble as you go. Anything unbroken you find in the remains, you bring back to me."

They all scattered in a chorus of "Hai!" and he watched them work their way through the grounds with tight lips and a frown, before he turned towards the Head of clan building. It was as ruinous as the rest of the village, a great glorious marvel that had not stood against the raging storms that had come for it. Naruto stepped through what could have once been described as a threshold but was now nothing more than torn walls and rubble.

This was not the former home of his mother. He knew from Jiraiya that Kushina Uzumaki had only been indirectly related to the head of clan family. She must have lived in another of those destroyed buildings whose remains littered his clan's grounds. There was nothing left of her life here, nothing that had been kept for him to retrieve. Perhaps one of his clones would find some small personal effect that had miraculously survived through the attack, but there was no way to establish a direct link between whatever he found here and his long lost mother. It would still be Uzumaki however and that, to him, was family.

Since Jiraiya had left, a connection was what he was desperate for. Because Jiraiya had been family. His very own godfather, who had cared for him, who had genuinely wanted him to be happy. Who had made all the terrible years before Iruka-sensei make sense at last. He had been the godson of one of the great Sannin, and Jiraiya hadn't known, and Sarutobi had felt he'd done enough.

But Sarutobi had been tired and overtaken by his Hokage duties after all, and how much could Naruto blame him, when the old monkey god had died for his village. When he had tried at least to make him feel included whenever he could, to make space for the small orphaned heir to the old man's very title, taking more of the duties of the fourth than anyone had realized. And he, too, was gone. Had been the first to go, leaving Naruto with his very first experience of losing someone dear. The first person to whom he'd felt close enough to truly grieve. No grieving had felt so crushingly exhausting than the one his godfather's death demanded of him, however. Some days still he woke up in shock, half-delirious and heart beating wildly against his ribs, expecting Jiraiya to be right by his side, pressing him to get up for them to escape some deadly predicament. But every time he blinked furiously to find himself alone, and each time Naruto had to calm himself forcibly, and revert to the heavy, lingering numbness that always followed these episodes.

There was nothing to be found here but death. The death of a rising power, the death of a village, the death of his clan, along many, many others, and all the other families that perished under the crushing of Wave's very precious Uzushiogakure. Naruto searched and combed through the remains of the head of clan's former home, but only indistinct scatters and broken things were to be uncovered here. Even the basement had been crushed, and his trained eyes recognized the focused attack for what it had been. No one had wanted the Uzumaki's knowledge to survive. It was a miracle his mother could have lived on, one only possible through Konoha's might and grace.

Your mother taught me more about seals than I had learned all my life before I met her, Jiraiya had told him once, and I only call myself a Fuuinjutsu master because she taught me.

The words ache, even as he remembers them. But they also fill him with something beyond all the grief and silent, numbing pain he has been feeling ever since crossing the entrance of this dead, forgotten village.

Konoha would come in its own time, however. Here in Uzushio, Naruto had hoped for something, anything that could bring him even the barest amount of comfort, some distant string to cling to. Anything at all really, a spark, or long-cold embers, whatever he could claim as his own that wasn't what he had now, what he could see laying all around him to the horizon, all that had been discarded and left behind. Rubble; rubble and cold, aching memories that bled through the stone and attached themselves to him like desperate parasites, adding to Jiraiya and Jii-chan and kaa-san and tou-san and –

"Boss!"

He snapped his head up in attention, blinking away the slight stinging that had suddenly started at his eyes. The running clone seemed exhilarated as he quickly made his way towards him, eyes blown wide and a grin on his face. He reached him as he stood up. And then he pointed to a direction where a small gathering of clones were busying themselves, carrying blocks of rubble big enough to need several pairs of hands, away from a huddled group who seemed crouched close together, some of them – Some of them seemingly lower than he was currently standing, only their shoulders visible beyond the mass of bodies. "I found some strange grouping of rocks there, strange piles jutting out from the rest," his clone told him, walking alongside as Naruto almost rushed to the place where the group was gathered. "We actually had to team up to upturn some of the bigger blocs. There were pieces that looked like entire walls fallen over the place," the clone told him before dispelling himself.

Naruto pushed his way past, almost throwing bodies out of his way in his rush of bewildered excitement. Sure enough, he soon found himself standing before what looked like a narrow set of descending stairs, bordered by towering walls who seemed about to crumble over themselves, threatening to bury their discovery with the rest of the ruined grounds. One clone, the one whose shoulders he had glanced before, had turned and lifted his head at his unsubtle approach. Naruto didn't pay him any mind, climbing down the stairs and standing before what appeared to be a slab of wall covered in small, circling writings. Upon catching sight of him, the two clones who had been studying the wall nodded at him before popping in small white clouds, granting him all the information they had gathered.

Naruto faced the seals with narrowed eyes, standing still before the offending door. His clones had been hard at work attempting to decipher the workings of the bound logic behind the small lines of words interwoven with each other; and from the beginning there could not have been any doubt that these seals were the work of his clan, an intricate mastery of combined designs whose simplicity soon got lost in the overarching connections that bound them as a single entity. What little information his clones had gathered was enough to intensify his rush of adrenaline. Containment arrays, built atop one another, saddled with reinforcements that nothing short of a Bijuu-powered strike could have overcome. But also small, the lines clearly drawing strength from economy, concentrating their power over a secluded space. What was this place? And why hadn't anything of the sort been present in the clan head building? He would never be able to overpower these seals by brute force. Instead, he would have to slowly work his way through them, carefully undoing the threads one by one. It would take hours at the very least, his understanding of the workings powering the seal still far from comprehensive. And any mistake would fuse the bounded lines together, rendering the place guarded by that door unreachable. The only options left then would inevitably destroy whatever had been left inside. If there was anything at all in there.

Naruto did not lack for time however, and this was what he had been looking for. It was something, at the very least, something that was left, something which had remained in spite of the years and the attempts to lay it to waste. So he pulled up scrolls and unrolled them around him as he sat down, a pencil already in hand. He then sent a few of his clones searching among the rest of the village's ruins and dispelled the rest, getting to work.

oOo

In the silence of her office, Tsunade was staring blankly at the young man in front of her, just about to reach adulthood and offering his life so carelessly. She eyed him sceptically. "What exactly are you proposing, Naruto?"

"A specialized assault squad," He said evenly, all the traits of his face set in assertive determination. "Dedicated to the hunting and arresting of the organization known as Akatsuki. Led by me."

She openly scoffed at that, eyes blinking incredulously. "You want me to allow you, this village most prized asset, to go after S-rank Nukenin, probably the deadliest out there, so you can take them down while they do their utmost to capture you?"

"And I want to be openly known as a missing-nin of this village once I leave your office tonight. It'll keep them away from here for some time."

The words left her mouth before she could even consciously process them. "No. No, Naruto. That's… That's one step too far beyond insane. That's – I refuse to do that."

He sighed a little, seeming to consider his words carefully before he let them out. "Tsunade, it's the best we can do for now. Akatsuki has started moving. They have a way of digging even the deepest secrets. I'm trying to figure it out, but I have no answers, not yet. Until then, we must protect the village as best we can. We have to keep them away from it."

She had never been a calm and composed person. Before she realized it, her fist slammed upon her desk and the fragile wood cracked where it made contact while she suddenly found herself standing in front of him. But even that didn't cool her down. "Do you know how your absence has affected some of my shinobi Naruto? Sakura, for starters, she's been throwing herself in her medical training so wholly I have to physically restrain her and impose down time. Hyuuga Hinata has become one of my best scouts over the last years, tracking and apprehending enemies so fast she's made a name for herself, but whenever I see her here, she doesn't say a word she doesn't have to, and her sister is desperate. And Kakashi can barely hold it together. I swear the man's so overridden with guilt I have to constantly worry every time I receive rapports from Iruka it's not to announce me his disappearance or his death. And you want to me to announce to them you've returned only to defect? You're insane, Naruto. Insane. I refuse to –"

"But they're alive, aren't they?" He cut her off, bitterness running deep in the undertones of his voice. "They're still here. They didn't have to sacrifice themselves for… For me. Jiraiya agreed with that, y'know? That's part of the reason we took our time before coming back. To keep Konoha safe."

"And look where that got him."

She regretted the words the moment they came out of her mouth, but by then it was already too late. Instead, they hung in the silence between them, tense as the last rope tying the few remaining shreds of her countenance together. Naruto stared at her with a look of betrayal stretched upon his entire face, only adding more fuel to her budding anger. Because of course there was anger in the whirling mess of emotion currently tearing through her. She was angry at Jiraiya. For betraying her like Orochimaru had and leaving her alone, left to care for this bloody forsaken village all on her own. For not letting her say goodbye. Tsunade was angry, and she clung to her anger like it was the last thing holding her together.

"Let's bet on it then," Naruto said after a moment of heavy silence.

What.

"What?"

Naruto simply stared at her with the same unfettered resolve she'd found in the boy's eyes all those years ago, when she was wandering in search of endless distractions, and she was left as unbalanced as she had been then.

"A bet," he said, as though explaining a simple concept to a child. "You send your best after me. If they catch me, I'll comply to whatever vision you have. If I manage to escape them, you agree to the squad leading the charge against Akatsuki."

Tsunade ran a hand over her face and sighed in exhaustion. It seemed the night was far from over, and she had suddenly found the willingness to sleep that'd eluded for the entire week. This was all a little bit insane. But then again, it was a kind of insanity she was very much used to. She tried to contain the memories of her time as a genin and then with her fellow comrades while she appraised the young and stupidly bold shinobi facing her. This was Jiraiya's game. Anytime he had tried to convince her of the most senselessly dangerous courses of action, he'd offer to wager any number of things against her acceptance. Of course the best way forward is to cross enemy lines and attract their attention somewhere while a chunin goes behind their backs and retrieves our objective. Why, of course it's going to work! I'll bet you my share of our earnings that it does!

Tsunade closed her eyes to contain the tears that had suddenly threatened to slip past her guard. She had never risen to the challenge. Not once. Always had seen the obvious bait for what it was. She could almost ear him now, whispering teasingly to her ear. Of course Jiraiya had never listened to her after his first plan failed, preferring to ignore her and contend with her rage when it happened long after the missions were done. She opened her eyes to stare into his, and Tsunade knew right away that this was a lost cause. Naruto had been his student, one Jiraiya had thoroughly trained. He would follow through no matter what.

"The squad, yes. If you manage to outrun my team. The secrets, no. You'll be reported as back and assigned on a series of long-distance missions. Let them make of that what they will."

Naruto's blue eyes pinned her own in a harsh, stubborn stare. "Obaa-chan –"

"None of that," she cut him off, her stare harsher than that of this green boy who thought he knew best because of his pain. "You want to protect Konoha; you'll have to get it in your head that I protect my own even from their stupid decisions. Let the dumb old men make their own stories about why you're away. I'll want weekly reports about your progress, and you'll be assigned a senior Anbu. Make that two," She added, thinking of young Yugao who would be better used than guarding an old lady who half-wanted to quit her job, and the list of young recruits Shizune had handed her.

He huffed in defeat, and Tsunade bit her cheek to stave off the smug smile pulling at her lips. Jiraiya had all but sent him off to her, and that was a bet all on its own. See if you can do as well as I did with his father. Make him earn his place alongside the others at the top of their rock.

"Fine," Naruto said in a low tone, after an elongated silence that had felt very much like a bout of sulking. "Do I still have leadership?"

She eyed him with a smile at that. "You'll have to earn it. At least from the Anbu, if you think they'd let themselves be led by a genin of all things."

"Obaa-chan!" He suddenly burst out in open outrage, and for a moment Tsunade finally had the young boisterous blonde boy she had left in her friend's care all those years ago. He huffed in annoyance and put his hands down on her desk in an exaggerated way but she simply pinned him down with a stare, and felt a rush of the cool, tightly controlled smugness that was the best part of her job.

"Where will you be headed?" She asked once the boy had finally calmed down, frowning a little in anticipation of what would unfold next.

"I was thinking of the Valley," He told her. "I've wanted to go there since I've been in the country."

"Mmh," she contemplated the steps ahead of them both, musing at the dramatics of his decision before letting it go as another proof of Jiraiya's influence. It's bold and stupid and uselessly harmful to everyone involved, she thought while rubbing tiredly at her eyes. "I'm glad to have you back, Naruto. Now go before I change my mind and bind you to my desk."

He was out of her sight before she had finished the sentence, and after such a terse conversation that only promised a longer night Tsunade finally allowed herself to laugh out loud. You could trust Jiraiya to somehow help you grieve even his own death, old stubborn pervert that he was.

"Yugao," she called into her empty room. "You heard it all. You'll be leading the pursuing team. Go meet him in the Valley if he manages to outrun you."