Chapter 2


"Divergence"


Naruto was awoken by the sound of running water. It began as small droplets and rose to become the distant echo of a waterfall.

A large part of him didn't really want to wake up. It was content with where he was—which he largely did not know, but it felt like he was laying on top of a cloud, and even the smallest part of him that was protesting for him to wake up was okay with that.

Then he heard a voice call out his name. It sounded faint at first, like a whisper, but grew in its volume the way an echo does—though, instead of travelling outward it came inbound.

"Naruto."

It was a gruff voice. Sounded like an old man—Naruto almost thought it was The Old Man.

"Over here, boy."

Naruto wished the voice would shut up and just let him be.

"Uzumaki Naruto!—"

Naruto snapped his eyes open, sat upright, looked to nowhere in particular, and shouted: "Oi! I'm sleeping here! Do you mind?!"

And then he saw where he was…

…The Valley of The End, except it was different. It was ruined somehow. Naruto laid on a rock that felt as soft as a marshmallow and couldn't explain it. What is this? he wondered, taking in the rest of his surroundings. The valley's entire geography had changed. The historic landmark had been destroyed, reduced to nothing but a pile of rubble and two statue-heads. Madara's…and Hashirama's—the one Naruto was trying to "sleep" on.

He nearly bit his tongue when he realized it.

"Did…did I…did we?" Naruto began, but he couldn't finish his sentence. He was appalled at the sheer damage that had been incurred—that they must have incurred…Sasuke and him.

"Hai," the voice said.

Naruto flapped his head around attempting to spot its origin but never quite found it. The voice seemingly boomeranged all around him, never sticking to one place.

"Oi, come out wherever you're hiding, whoever you are, whatever you want…wait, that didn't sound right…I mean it sort of rhymed…tsk, why is my head spinning…?"

Naruto clutched his head with his bare fingertips, digging his nails into his scalp, massaging deeply to alleviate his head-spins. He went to lean back on his other hand…and promptly fell flat on his back.

That was weird, he thought, willing his arm to lift him once again…it didn't work. Naruto turned to stare at his appendages, counted them for certainty. Two legs…one arm…

ONE ARM?!

He panicked. Started screaming and yelling. Swinging his good arm around. He saw where his other one had been cut clean off his shoulder. There was a ton of dried blood staining his shirtsleeve and he could literally see the muscle fibres and tissue and bone.

He recalled the details of his battle but couldn't locate a reason why his arm was gone and The Valley destroyed. He had let Sasuke gut him through. It was his hand and his heart. Simple. He remembered that part. He remembered dying.

So why am I still alive, he pondered.

"You're not," the voice said, and this time it was accompanied by the materialization of a body—if you could call it that.

An old man with the whitest hair and the whitest beard appeared out of thin air, like a ghost. He wore a long, white garb that mimicked the effect of a cloak, except it couldn't be one, for it floated in such an odd manner and did not obey the manner in which all fabric moved; it seemed to ebb into the atmosphere infinitely, as if the man had a mini-seamstress tucked away inside his pocket continually sewing the fabric that would keep the effect going forever.

"W-who are y-you…?" Naruto asked, freaked out about his arm, freaked out about The Valley, about the sudden appearance of this creepy, old man, and the fact that he was still alive—

"You're not," he said again.

Did he just read my thoughts? Naruto questioned.

"Yes. Precisely," the man replied.

"Woaaahhhh," Naruto exclaimed in awe, then remembered quickly that he was missing an arm and that this old man could in fact be an enemy.

The old man chuckled, his laughter booming around the entire Valley, and said, "You're not alive, yet you are not quite dead either."

Naruto wracked his head. "Huh?"

The man chuckled even louder.

"Oi, don't laugh at me!" Naruto shouted. "I'm Uzumaki Naruto, a shinobi of Konohagakure, one of the strongest hidden villages in the world! I'm no joke!"

The old man quieted and stared deeply into Naruto's eyes, pondering something, nodding unnoticeably to himself. "Hai, of course, Naruto-boy—"

"Just Naruto."

"Ah—Naruto. Pardon me. Would you like for me to explain everything now?"

Naruto nodded.

The old man smiled.

Kyūbi appeared from within the depths of the water and Naruto freaked out all over again, clutching the belly of his shirt as if his life—and the beast—had been snatched right out of there.

The old man peeked over one shoulder and waved Naruto off. "No reason to worry, Naruto."

"No reason to worry?" Naruto burst out, waving his one arm around maniacally. "That's the Kyūbi, 'tebayo! Or don't you know?! That thing will gobble you up faster than you can say 'don't worry, Naruto.'"

The old man shook his head. "No, he will do no such thing, Naruto. First of all—this is not the bijuu sealed inside of you. This is Kurama. He is a dear friend—in fact, like a son to me. Please behave with respect with him. I won't tolerate your discrimination."

Naruto shook his head wildly, as if he would blink his eyes and shake his head and this would all be over—just some between- life-and-death dream. It didn't work, though.

"I need you to listen very carefully to me, Naruto. Can you do that?" The old man asked.

Naruto grit his teeth and thought very carefully, then nodded his head. "O.K."

"Good," the old man said. Kurama rose up from the water and took a seat beside the old man against a pile of rubble, listening on in silence. "Naruto…this is not your world."

Naruto's eyes widened and the man flashed him a sharp look that urged him not to interrupt. And it was at that precise moment, that Naruto realized that this man's eyes were…different. Not like Sasuke's sharingan, not like Hinata or Neji's byakūgan. His eyes were something he had never seen before—like the oceans' waves rippled within his pupils, and though the colour was faint, he was sure that they were purple.

The old man carried on. "This world belonged…to your future." He nodded his head as he spoke. "Yes, indeed. And I am shocked, for you changed the very course of history, Naruto."

Naruto stared flabbergasted. He pointed at himself and mouthed, 'Me?' and the old man nodded.

"Yes, you, Naruto. And I am so, so, so proud of you. You've done something nobody ever has…you changed the future. Naruto…you broke the curse. Thank you, Naruto. Thank you. I will never forget you."

"B-but I d-don't even k-know you…and I h-have n-n-o idea w-what you're e-even t-talking ab-out."

The man smiled and said, "My name is Ōtsutsuki Hagoromo, though, I am known throughout the nations by names—the most popular being, Rikudō Sennin. Pleased to meet you."

"H-hai…pleased to meet you too," Naruto said; he'd never heard of the man or his title.

Naruto stared at Kurama, then his stomach, and then turned his head to stare at his shoulder where his arm had been severed. He gulped, fear overwhelming him—and in this case, it was his utter fear of the unknown, for none of this resonated with him, none of this made a bit of sense to his—albeit slow at times—brain.

"I still don't understand," Naruto said. "Who are you?"

Hagoromo laughed. "You're not as dumb as people think you are, eh?"

Naruto blinked twice.

"I told you my name but I cannot tell you anymore than that, not yet at least. We will meet again, Naruto—or rather, you will come looking for me one day…both of you will. You may happen upon my brother at that time—fear not, he will help you. I'm glad we got this part over with first. Now I have no fear. The both of you can truly save the world…"

Naruto still felt clueless, yet for some reason, all of it made sense. He was sure, that in due time, everything the old man had just said would make sense to him. But wait a minute—

"Aren't I supposed to be dead?" Naruto asked.

"Is that truly what you'd like, Naruto?"

Naruto chewed his lip and contemplated the question, knowing deep down, some part of him did want that. But he had things to do and dreams to accomplish. And more than all of his personal goals and dreams, he believed that he had something far greater to do—and based on the old man's conviction, he was sure that he was right.

"I don't really know," he said as honestly as he could. Hagoromo nodded his head in understanding. "I really don't know the answer to that question, old man. I really don't…"

"That's okay," Hagoromo said, "you'll have plenty of time to think about it when you wake up."

Naruto sat upright, straight as a rod, and said, "WAIT! None of this is real?!"

Hagoromo burst out laughing. "Of course it is, Naruto. But of course it also isn't."

Naruto scratched his forehead and felt a headache creeping up his neck, burrowing deep into his skull. "Jeez, old man, do you know how to talk without riddles?"

Hagoromo didn't respond. He smiled and mouthed something to Kurama. He grew a pair of legs—they appeared from within his phantasmic cloak—turned his back, and began to walk away. His soft footsteps upon the water made no sounds.

Naruto leaped up to his feet and felt a rush of head-spins overwhelm him, dropping him right back on the rock. He reached out towards the hazy sight of Hagoromo walking away; he began to appear like a mirage, there, yet not really there. And then Naruto cursed himself for thinking in paradoxes and riddles—all a bad side-effect of listening to the old man, he was sure.

"Oi, old man!" Naruto yelled out, but the man never turned to look at him again. He simply kept walking, Kurama now by his side. Naruto kept on yelling and shouting until he was wrought with coughs and his throat became numb. Hagoromo never turned around.

Eventually, all Naruto saw was Kurama's nine tails swaying majestically just beyond the horizon.

Naruto smiled, felt hazier than ever and his head pounded, yet oddly at peace. He stared at Kurama's tails—and he didn't know why he did it, but an urge overwhelmed him and he called out—

"Kuramaaaaaaaaa!"

He could've sworn he saw the beast turn to look at him…it was smiling.


Naruto's eyes fluttered open, slow at first, as if he couldn't remember why he was waking up in the first place, then fast, sure there had to be some sort of mistake—that unless this was Heaven, he was in the wrong place.

Tsunade's piercing gaze broke through his disillusionment, truly woke him from his misconceptions. Then, his afterlife experience filled him up—flashing images of the old man—

(His name was Hagoromo)

and Kurama—as if someone had opened up his internal floodgates, bringing along with it a headache that felt like it would split his whole head open.

He questioned what he had set out to do in the first place—what dying for Sasuke would've accomplished him anyway? He was supposed to save the boy, not let go of his hand, not let him wander in the dark all alone…that's not what brothers do.

He flitted his own gaze from Tsunade to the rest—Kakashi-sensei, Iruka-sensei, the whole entire Rookie-9…Sakura.

He tried to speak but his throat peeled in dry-rage from within him, producing only the faintest, hoarsest whisper. He felt like he hadn't had a drop to drink for weeks. When he went to lick his lips, he felt cracks as deep and rough as the stone on the Hokage Monument, tasted dried blood, and nearly bit his own tongue as he felt pain shoot through his body in bursts, as if a hand had slithered its way to his heart, wrapped its fingers around it, and squeezed every five seconds or so. It hurt just to breathe.

He mouthed, 'Water.'

He vaguely heard the sound of running water, and for a second he thought he was still dreaming, then Tsunade was by his side in a flash, holding a tall glass of cool water. Her hand crawled under his head, he felt her fingertips cradle his neck; she was warm.

She lifted him up high enough for him to sip the water, and he drank all of it—nearly choked he was drinking so fast; and it hurt to even swallow but he didn't care…he was so damn thirsty!

She laid him back down gently, then slipped her hand out and set the empty glass to the side.

Naruto attempted to speak, hopeful this time that the water had done the trick, that he would open his mouth and the beautiful sound of his voice would boom outward like a bullet…but all he managed was a faint whisper, riddled with cracks and wheeziness.

"B-a-a-c-h-aan…"

Tsunade was by his side, leaning in closer to hear him.

Naruto couldn't even cough. He carried on as best as he could, though.

"…S-a-s-u-ke…"

Tsunade turned her head to look at the boy, her eyes brimming with tears, though, she held them back as best as she could, for she did not wish to cry in front of him—the boy who taught her how to hope again.

"Shhhh," she whispered to him, running her fingertips through his hair, brushing the tips of her nails against his skin to lull him back to sleep. "It's okay, Naruto. Don't speak. Save your energy."

Naruto mumbled something, didn't even understand himself, then felt the tug of his dreams pull back on his psyche, drawing the shades across his consciousness and preparing him for further bouts of unconsciousness. He resisted. He couldn't sleep. Not yet. Please, not yet. He had to know—

"S-a-su-ke, Ba-a-ch-an…W-h-e-re i-s S-a-su-ke?"

Tsunade never answered, though. Just kept running her fingers through his hair, and eventually, his unconsciousness won the battle.


Jiraiya and Tsunade spoke in a makeshift office down the hall from Naruto's room she had prepared in the spur of the moment; so that she didn't have to leave Naruto's side and because she knew that if anything happened and she wasn't there, she wouldn't be able to forgive herself this time—first Nawaki, then Dan…not you too.

"Tsuna," Jiraiya grunted, pacing endlessly from one wall to the other, his long strides poorly matched with the miniature room. "I'm taking him. It's settled."

Tsunade pounded her fist against a fold-out table she was using as a desk, nearly snapping it in half when she did it. "Out of the question, Jiraiya!" she shouted. "If you think that I'm going to let you take the boy to your deluded toad-mountain, you're out of your god-damned mind!"

"But Tsuna, you don't understand—the prophecy states—"

"Oh, SHUT IT, JIRAIYA!" And she slammed her fists once more against the table-top and this time it did snap, and she didn't really give a damn either way. "You and that stupid prophecy. Alway spouting some nonsense every couple of years. First it was with those kids we found in Ame, then Minato, and now that he's dead too, all of a sudden it's his son?! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Jiraiya stopped pacing and stared angrily at Tsunade. She didn't understand him, didn't understand his mission—the scope of it all, what it meant, and what it would mean one day, and soon—for he knew, that in the future when the fate of the world depended on someone to step up, that someone had to be Naruto!

"Tsuna, you don't understand!" he yelled back. "You've never understood! All you care about is babying your loved ones! He's grown now, it's time to let the kid make his own choices. If he can be a ninja—if he can live the life he's lived and still be the way that he is—then he has the right to choose!"

Tsunade glared daggers at Jiraiya, fish-eyeing him with her most scornful gaze, and said, "Fine! We'll see when he wakes up—but only then! You are not to go anywhere near Naruto until I authorize you to. Understood?"

Jiraiya about-faced and walked out of the room, waving her off, saying, "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Just you wait, he thought to himself as he rounded the corner to the elevator. He'll choose, Tsuna, And you know he will…

The elevator doors opened and a pretty, little blonde nurse stepped out, sizing Jiraiya up. He stepped on, ignoring her completely, and when the doors shut he saw her looking at him, but he turned his eyes away. Didn't want to look. He pledged an end to his lecherous ways out of grief over what happened to his disciple. They always died on his watch, because he was never there to help them when they truly needed it. Not this time. I won't let you go, kid...I ain't failing...not again.

The elevator doors shut and Jiraiya shed a single tear, thinking:

He'll choose, Tsuna. He'll choose…because he's his father's son.


Ino Yamanaka thought better than to knock on the door, knowing it would only wake the boy—and since she didn't want to disturb him, she, using her shinobi sleuthing skills, finessed the door open with two fingers, and slipped in as quiet as a feather falling to the floor.

She shut the door behind her and went about her business. Doing what she came here to do, she straightened out the bouquet of flowers—an assortment of her own choosing—and collected the empty vase sulking on the window sill. (She knew it was sulking because all vases did when they didn't have pretty flowers to fill them, to make them whole.)

She went over to a double-sided sink and turned the tap on to fill the vase. The faucet creaked when she turned it to one side and she cringed, looking back over her shoulder to make sure he was still sleeping.

Naruto snored in whispers because his throat was completely ragged from what she was sure was quite a shouting match he must've had with Sasuke.

The sight was painful and she felt a twinge shoot up to her heart and a lump as big as a peach-pit in her throat. She bit back tears, and when Naruto snorted, almost giggled at the sound he made.

She collected the vase and added the flowers in, filling the container, making it a beautiful addition to the dreary room—for there was no other kind of room in a hospital, and it was her own personal philosophy that no hospital room should be without flowers; it helped wean the fengshui from dreary to hopeful instantly.

She set the vase back on the sill and went over and took a seat on the couch situated on the opposite side of the room. It was quite comfy/squishy and nearly swallowed her whole when she sat down on it.

After adjusting herself to a more comfortable position, Ino took out a copy of a novel she picked up from the local bookstore—a mere half-step from her own flower-shop—called, "The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi," by someone simply named, Arashi. She figured it must be a pen name.

She read the back-cover and couldn't help but think about Naruto, for his very name was the same as the protagonist of the novel, and his determination ditto.

Ino had picked it up for the sole purpose of reading it to Naruto, hoping it would brighten his mood and the inner-turmoil he must be feeling—over failing to bring Sasuke back home, and at being stuck in this hospital room; she didn't have any place better to be. (The sight of his broken body when he was brought back by Kakashi-sensei had disturbed her beyond her wildest imagination, and sitting there, recalling it in that moment, she felt a shiver shoot up her spine; it was then that she knew she would do anything for her comrades, that Sasuke was scum, and most importantly…that Naruto was important to her.)

She recalled when her own mother used to read her bedtime stories, but that was a long, long time ago. Now she was grown. Now she had her own responsibilities—and sure she was only 13, but she had this doubt about time and that it would fly by pretty fast, and that before she knew it, it would be her turn to read bedtime stories to her little-Ino. She giggled at the thought, felt butterflies in her stomach. It was her dream to become strong—to be a revered shinobi throughout the nations—and then to one day settle down, get married to a man she loved deeply, and have a child to whom she could teach everything she'd learned, impart all the knowledge she would've obtained over the course of her lifetime, and ensure that her own child would grow up twice as smart and twice as strong as she did.

Ino brushed her fingertips against the front-cover, thinking: This is early practice.

She flipped to the front page and read out loud in an even tone, so as not to wake him, but to simply feed him the words to ensure he dreamed all the right things.

She read the preface: "Dedicated to all of the people, who, despite all the pain and sadness that exist within our world, believe in the light of Assurance, which surely does shine in the distance somewhere…Thank you."

Naruto smiled a tad, at least from what Ino could see, and it brought a smile to her own face. She continued on to the prologue—My Name Is…

"A noise slashed through the silence, a noise so violent that it sounded like the very air whined, as if cut by its sound, wounded by the hatred only Man is capable of participating in.

Naruto barely dodged the enemy's kunai as he grabbed a thick branch and swung around the other side of the tree, using its trunk as a shield; it ate every single kunai, but Naruto didn't have time to pat himself on the back. He grabbed another branch and climbed high up into the treetops, gaining as much height as possible. The one on higher ground always wins. That's what his Sensei had taught him.

'Won't you give up already,' shouted the voice of his enemy from somewhere within the dense forestry. 'I'm sick and tired of playing these games. Why don't you just die. I promise I'll make it easy.'"

Ino's eyes darted across the lines, reading the entire page in advance—an ability she had been born with, all thanks to her lineage—and smiled at the remainder of the chapter, knowing that this would be just the thing Naruto would need to get him back on his feet and to get him to be his normal Self again.

"Naruto ignored the empty threats his enemy spat at him and drowned his noises out with his own heavy breathing, tired from their lengthy cat-and-mouse chase, choosing instead to take advantage of the little time he had to formulate some sort of plan.

He rummaged through his weapons pouch, searched for any leftover ammo—a shuriken, an exploding seal-tag, a kunai—ANYTHING!—and there, resting at the very bottom of the tiny bag was a kunai-knife and two smoke-bombs. It would do, he thought, and with that, his plan was ready—he was ready.

'Come out, come out,' the enemy said, mocking him—and without hesitation, Naruto flung one of the smoke bombs at the precise location the enemy's voice came from, utilizing the man's chattiness as a tool to assist him in honing in on him.

It worked, and he heard the man cough and spit, bogged by the immense smoke that overwhelmed quite a large area of the forest. Naruto smiled—he had handmade those bombs himself, packed them with juuuussst a tad extra oomph for a larger radius.

Naruto leapt down from the branch, launching himself at the speed of sound, aiming for his enemy's legs, hoping to maim but not kill. But his enemy was fast, his instincts strong. He met his kunai with his own blade and the clash sent sparks out into the thick cloud of smoke, illuminating their faces for a brief moment—brief enough that Naruto was able to see fear flash across his enemy's face, saw that fear—the fear of dying—flicker across his eyelids as he clinched them shut and willed his body to react in order to survive.

They pushed off against each other, the smoke clearing simultaneously, and when Naruto looked, he cursed himself, for he had lost sight of his enemy. He made quick amends—

The man attacked from behind, slashing right above his waist, dropping him to the floor.

Naruto turned to look at the man and saw relief on his face, for he felt secure in knowing that he was the winner, that he would live and not die today.

Naruto held out his kunai-knife still, and he decided that he would fight 'til his dying breath.

His enemy merely scoffed, laughing at his effort in futility. 'You seriously need to know when to give up, kid,' he said.

Naruto laughed. 'Can I ask you something?'

The man spat on the dirt beside Naruto and said, 'You really think you're in a position to say anythin' at all, kid?'

Naruto beamed at the man through ragged breaths and said, 'You bet your ass. So how 'bout it?'

The man grit his teeth in anger and raised his hand, preparing to deliver the final blow. He swung down, stabbing Naruto in his heart, yelling, 'GIVE UP!' only to trip over in pure shock when his body disappeared in a plume of smoke.

'What the hell?!' he shouted. And then he felt the cold touch of metal that could belong only to a kunai-knife pricking against the skin on his neck. He rolled his eyeballs to the left, looked over his shoulder, and saw Naruto holding the blade to his neck. 'B-but how?'

Naruto didn't respond. Instead, he said his piece. 'Y'know, I decided it's not really a question anymore, more a statement.'

'W-what,' the man stuttered.

'Well, you see, the thing is—I ain't giving up…so why don't YOU JUST GIVE UP!' Naruto exclaimed, taking his knife off the man's neck and slashing instead right below his hips, disabling the man's movements entirely. He fell like a sack of potatoes to the dirt floor, and Naruto deemed that to be enough. He began to walk away…

'W-wait,' the man whispered hoarsely, gathering Naruto's attention. 'Wait.'

Naruto walked back to the man and kneeled beside him. 'What?' he asked.

The man flashed him a shit-eating grin and said, 'So what if y-you killed m-me…? I-it don't m-matter n-none. M-many more w-w-will c-come. T-they will a-avenge m-me.'

Naruto listened on in silence, electing not to say anything, not yet at least.

'T-there's n-no place f-for p-peace in a w-world like t-this one. W-we're a-all cursed, don't you k-know?'

'Then I will break that curse,' Naruto whispered, and then louder, said, 'I'll break it! If such a thing as Peace exists, then I will find it, and I will hold onto it for dear life! And one thing's for damn sure—I'll never give up!'

The man stared at Naruto, shocked at his utter guts and determination, and he knew he had to ask him, despite the fact that he was about to die, he had to know: 'Who are you?'

Naruto stood up and looked up into the blue skies soaring above them. The sun shined down on them through the spaces between the branches and the fallen leaves danced in the wind.

He looked back at the man and said, 'My name is—'"

"Interesting that you chose that book," a voice said, interrupting Ino, frightening her so suddenly she nearly dropped the book, and that would've surely woken Naruto.

She snapped her head to the doorway and saw Jiraiya of the Sannin leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, staring adoringly at her, as if mesmerized by her way of telling the story.

"You shouldn't do that," she said in a stern whisper, wanting to scorn, yet equally taking great care to not wake Naruto from his deep sleep. "I could've screamed and woken Naruto, or worse, had a heart attack."

She disregarded the elderly man's prestige throughout the village; he scared the bejeezus out of her and would suffer her wrath equally.

Jiraiya deadpanned. "Mahh, mahh, don't be so harsh," he said, animatedly flapping his hands up and down. "Y'know, I wrote that story."

Ino flashed surprise. She shut the book around one finger—making sure to keep her place so as not to get lost—and read the author's name aloud: "Arashi?" she said doubtfully. "I assumed it was a pen name…"

Jiraiya smiled. "You're quite right about that," he said. "It's the only novel of mine where I used a different name. Though, it wasn't received quite well so I never followed it with a sequel. Kinda just moved onto newer pastures."

"I think it's brilliant."

Jiraiya and Ino both turned towards the bed, surprised both that Naruto was awake, and at how much better he sounded now.

"N-naruto," Ino muttered. "I had no idea you were awake. I'm sorry if my voice woke you." She quickly dipped her head low, bowing in apology.

Naruto managed a weak chuckle. "It's alright, Ino. Your voice is very pretty." He made a weird face, as if confused as to why he would say such a thing, attributing it to the drugs—it had to be the drugs…

Ino felt her cheeks grow a tad warm, for reasons inexplicable to her. "T-thank you," she stuttered, shocked at the high-pitch of her voice; Ino never stuttered.

Jiraiya guffawed from the doorway, pointing at the two of them crazily, as if he was a mad man—like he knew from experience, something about two people that were in their particular situation.

"Oye, ero-sennin, shut it! My brain hurts when you speak," Naruto muttered. He tried chucking a pillow at the old man but it barely flew a few feet away from his bedside, landing closer to Ino's feet than anywhere near Jiraiya.

Naruto fell silent all of a sudden and he stared at his hands with a look of absolute defeat in his eyes.

"Naruto…" Ino whispered.

Jiraiya took a few steps forward and scooped the pillow up from the ground, examining it for no good reason. "Come on, kid. You really gonna sulk after hearing that so-called brilliant story? Or did you just say that to say it?"

Naruto glared daggers at Jiraiya. "You know I mean what I say."

"I do," Jiraiya said. "That's why I'm saying…" He chucked the pillow full-speed ahead, aiming right at Naruto's head. "…are you really gonna sulk?"

Naruto's eyes widened and he barely dodged the pillow, moving his head a few inches back just in time.

"OI! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

Jiraiya chuckled and walked right up to him, ruffling his unruly blonde hair. "Nothing, kid. Nothing."

Naruto calmed down pretty quickly at the man's act of affection, never questioning him twice.

Ino thought they were both absolutely crazy! Who the hell throws a pillow with that much strength, at that speed, right at someone who is—first of all, supposed to be your student—and second of all, a hospitalized individual who has just suffered a ton of damage to his body as it is?

The answer: only Jiraiya.

She shook her head, baffled by the both of them.

"I'm actually not supposed to be here," Jiraiya said. "Tsuna-chan would kill me if she knew. But I heard you reading my story and I couldn't resist."

Ino stared at the book-cover and said, "I found it at the local bookshop. The shopkeeper said that he'd had the book in his possession for over 13 years."

"Ah, yes," Jiraiya said, nodding his head. "It was my first novel, and unfortunately not very successful."

"Ahhh," Naruto exclaimed, pointing a finger accusingly at the elderly man. "So that's when you decided to pawn that smut off as romance novels, huh?!"

Jiraiya choked on his own spit. "E-eh…g-gaki!"

Ino hadn't the slightest clue as to what they were talking about.

"Anyways," Jiraiya muttered, recomposing himself. "It's good that I caught you early—even if Tsunade doesn't want me to see you—because I need to talk to you about something very important, Naruto, and since your friend here was reading you that story anyway, it seems like the best time for it."

Naruto stared confusedly at his master. "Something important?" he said. "Like what, ero-sennin?"

Jiraiya cleared his throat and gesticulated subtly at Ino. "Would you mind, young lady? You can come right back as soon as we're finished."

Ino nodded dumbly, unaware of what was going on here but choosing not to relent against the man. "Of course."

"No. Stay, Ino," Naruto said, shaking his head at Jiraiya.

"Naruto, it's kind of important," Jiraiya said, but Naruto just kept on shaking his head.

"That's okay, ero-sennin. I don't mind."

Maybe it was the look in his eyes when he said it, or something else Jiraiya must have seen in Naruto's body language—or perhaps even his tone—but he didn't object after that.

"Okay," he said, signalling Ino that it was okay for her to stay.

"Are you sure, Naruto?" she asked.

"Course I am, Ino," he replied. But the truth was he wasn't sure why he was sure. He just felt it. Like when he let Sasuke pierce a chidori through his heart, he was sure it was the right thing to do, but even now if someone asked him, he wouldn't be able to explain it in words…he. Just. Felt. It.

And so, just like that, Yamanaka Ino got to stay, even though they were as much strangers as two villagers from different villages, and even though they'd barely spoken a full sentence to each other since they'd met…she got to stay.

Perhaps it was because he had some semblance of an idea pertaining to what Jiraiya had to say to him—another great, big feeling but no words to explainand perhaps he was afraid of what he felt, afraid of what the man might say to him, afraid that he was going to be right after all—and that, most of all, scared him the most. Her presence made it easier somehow, as if whatever Jiraiya had to say wouldn't hit as hard as it might if she wasn't there.

Jiraiya took a deep breath, pondering how best to approach the topic—how to abolish a singular angle of the boy's drive and determination, specifically pertaining to the parts preoccupied with saving Sasuke. He realized there was no easy way to do this, decided to dive in and deal with any damage he caused later.

"Listen, Naruto," he began, "I know that you must have a lot on your mind right now, and none of what I'm going to say is what you'll want to hear—"

"It's okay," Naruto said. "Just say it."

Jiraiya nodded. "I'm here to offer you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity…"

Ino's ears perked up at the sound of that; she always was a curious cat.

"…But I have one condition."

"Let me have it, ero-sennin," Naruto said, doing his best to cross his bruised and battered arms, to look as serious as he possibly could while practically mummified by the hundred-foot bandage-wrap adorning his face save his eyes and his mouth; he kept eyeing his right arm, as if he was surprised that he still had one, and it made Ino wonder…just what the hell happened at The Valley?

"I want to take you to the place where I was trained, Naruto. I want to teach you, to make you stronger, so that you'll never lose again. Whaddaya say?"

Naruto clenched a handful of bedsheets. "What's the catch?" he asked.

Jiraiya huffed. "No more of this bring-Sasuke-back-to-Konoha business."

"Forget it," Naruto said at once and with an air of defiance as he held his head high to meet his master's gaze.

Jiraiya balled his fists in anger. "You're being an idiot, Naruto," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Sasuke's long gone. He's never going to come back, kid, just accept it."

"Like hell I will!" Naruto shouted, sending him into a coughing fit.

Ino was up and at his side with a tall glass of water, doing her best to ignore the intense atmosphere and nearly succeeding.

"Drink, Naruto," she said, bringing the glass closer to his face. "Please don't get so riled up. Your voice only just got better. If Tsunade-sama was to find out…"

Naruto nodded slowly, locking eyes with Ino, startling her with the brightest colour of blue she had ever seen; her's paled in comparison. He drank the water slowly, savouring the coolness as it soothed his throat and all his insides, cooling him down—Jiraiya was quick to counteract the effect, though.

"Quit the hero act and be a real ninja for once," he said, throwing his hands up in the air.

Naruto's eyes flashed red for an instant, or so Ino thought—could've just been her imagination; either way, he looked pissed.

"Oh yeah?" he said.

"Yeah."

"A real ninja? Like you, you mean?"

Jiraiya flinched. "Don't presume, kid, you don't know the first thing about me," he said; he about-faced, preparing to walk away from this silly situation.

Naruto pointed an accusatory finger in Jiraiya's direction. "Probably 'cause you don't talk about yourself, and that's your own fault. I had to find out from Baa-chan about what happened that made you this way—about what happened between you and Orochimaru. That's it, isn't it? Just 'cause you failed you think that I will too. But I won't. I swear—"

"Shut it, kid!" Jiraiya said. "You have no idea about what you think you know. I'm just trying to look out for you, just like I tried to look out for your pops—"

He stopped himself from saying anything further, didn't want to add insult to injury—and on top of everything, he realized his blunder…Naruto didn't know his parents, and this was not the way to tell him.

Jiraiya locked eyes with Ino and said, "Try and talk some sense into this idiot if you can. I'm tired of going to funerals of people who I was supposed to die before."

Naruto fish-eyed Jiraiya's back as he trudged out the door, yelling at him from behind: "What is that supposed to mean, huh? Tell me!"

But he was long gone by then, and Ino didn't think that Jiraiya had any intention at all of telling Naruto anything. She realized then, that her simple visit had become quite eventful, and if she was being honest, a total fiasco.

Naruto stared at his lap with an expression that reminded her of a lost dog—no place to be, no place to belong to, just a plain and simple nobody—and it made her sad to see him like this.

She put a tentative hand on his shoulder, applying the lightest pressure she could—so as not to harm him—to let him know that she was here for him. He didn't smile, but he tapped her hand with his own, bandaged one, as a gesture of recognition and thanks. He turned to look at her and cracked his trademark grin, and perhaps for the very first time…Ino wasn't convinced, not in the least. Maybe it was because she saw something in his eyes and how tightly he held them shut, or maybe it was something in the crease that formed around his mouth when he grinned…either way.

"You don't have to do that."

She hadn't the slightest intention of saying anything at all, but somehow the words had flown right out of her mouth before she'd even had a chance to think or to try and stop herself; to do anything.

Naruto stared at her in shock, his mouth agape, no longer a grin but an expression that hadn't quite been named yet—and even still, she thought it made him look that much more funny.

She held back her giggles and brushed his bandaged cheek in a way that she hoped was not uncomfortable to him, or odd in any manner. And she believed she had succeeded when he didn't smile again, when he didn't try to hide himself again.

"That's better, isn't it, Naruto?" she asked.

"Ah," Naruto grunted. "Thanks, Ino."

"What are friends for, huh?"

Naruto snickered at that. "I guess so," he said, then stared thoughtfully at her for no apparent reason.

Ino made a face and said, "Something in my teeth?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Nah…just…nothing."

Ino gave his hair a little flick and went back to the couch. "Nothing? Suuuurrrree." She picked the book back up again and stared at the front-cover where the title was enlarged and in bolded letters—The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi—and she smiled; it made her think of Naruto—even more so after what Jiraiya had said about being a real ninja—for Naruto was a ninja above them all, who never backed down on his word, and never gave up; his nindo, his way, his creed, his tenet. It made him the real one out of all of them—who did it for reasons as yet unknown.

"What?" Naruto asked.

"Nah…" she muttered. "…just…nothin.'"

Naruto made a sour expression which made Ino laugh a great deal, and just like before, the words flew out of her mouth before she knew what she was doing, what she was asking…

"Why chase after Sasuke-kun?" she asked, covering her mouth with both hands after she'd said it.

Naruto went still as ice. The tense atmosphere she had just broken with the sounds of her laughter came crawling back up, like shadows underwater.

"N-naruto," she said, cringing on the inside for having been so stupid as to press a man where it probably hurt the most. "I-I'm s-so sorr-y. You don't have to answer that."

Naruto shook his head, stared at his lap again, and she could've sworn that she saw a smile—different than the fake one, different than the lost-dog one, this one belonged to the people who figured out the cyclical nature of our lives and the futility of it all; it was indeed that sort of smile.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He nodded. "Just thinking about something that happened between me and Sasuke…"

"At The Valley?" she asked.

"Mmhmm. Yeah."

"He hurt you pretty bad, huh?"

"Hah. Yeah…yeah, he did, the bastard. He really did, Ino."

"But everything's going to be okay, Naruto."

"Huh?"

"I just mean…like, after everything that's happened…it'll all be okay still, you know?"

"Sure, Ino."

"Just like in the story. You thought it was brilliant, right?"

"Mmhm."

"There's not a lot that's different between you and the main character of this novel. You're both fearless, you never back down or give up, and you always stay true to your word…right…? Right, Naruto…?"

But Naruto never said anything, and when Ino looked carefully at his forlorn face, she saw that tears flowed down off his cheeks and onto the bedspread, making the softest impacts even though she knew how heavy he must feel on the inside. And she never made a sound after that. She let him cry it all out in the silence and decided that once he was done, she would do everything in her power to make sure that none of her friends ever had to cry again.

She let him cry, knowing deep down that they had just crossed a boundary, that their relationship would never be the same again after this moment…

For Yamanaka Ino was the only person who got to see Uzumaki Naruto without his masking smile.


The moon shone full and bright that night through the crystal clear glass windows of Naruto's hospital room. He took turns watching the moonlight and Ino sleep; the former casting beautiful mirages across the window itself.

Tsunade came by that night to perform a routine checkup, just to ensure he was recovering without any hiccups; she even teased him about Ino, though, he never retorted.

"Got yourself a little girlfriend, I see," she said.

Naruto had laughed it off. He had something else on his mind—though, he did wonder why she hadn't returned home yet.

"Baa-chan," he began; much to her chagrin he had refused to refer to her as anything but that—his dear, old 'Baa-chan.' "I need to talk to ero-sennin."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because he's right. I need to get stronger."

Tsunade had scrutinized him greatly for even thinking about training at this point in his recovery. She'd told him that he should be thanking good God for allowing him to live when it was obvious that he should have died at The Valley. He didn't illuminate her that it was his intention to do so. And he didn't have to ask her about Jiraiya again because apparently the village's #1 spy was incapable of retaining any boundaries—personal or professional—and had been skulking outside his window since their last conversation. Although, Tsunade knew all the same that she wouldn't be able to stop him—his drive was too strong, and he would stop at nothing until he was strong enough to protect all of his friends.

He'd told the man to, first of all, get a life, and second of all—

"Train me."

Of course, Jiraiya wouldn't back down from his condition, and neither did Naruto for that matter. They reached an impasse and after Tsunade whopped him a good few times, he relented and agreed to teach him regardless of his decision about Sasuke.

Naruto sat, staring at the moonlight, thinking much about the future of their trip together—Jiraiya had said that they would depart tomorrow, that the rest of his healing would have to occur whilst making the journey to wherever it is that they were going—and about Sasuke.

He'd told Sasuke to get his revenge—to beat Itachi—but to make sure he returned. He hoped he would uphold his word. He hoped he would return.

Sasuke probably didn't even know he was alive, probably thought that The Valley was his end and that he had just murdered his best friend in cold blood. According to what the old man had said in his 'fever dream,' he called it, whatever had happened between the two of them had broken some course of history from its path; Naruto wondered where the hell they were meant to go from here?

He'd also said that they would meet again—Both of you, he'd said, and Naruto, despite his frequent bouts of dumbness, knew that Both of you could be no other than him and Sasuke. He just wondered how the hell that was even supposed to happen, considering Sasuke thought that he was dead, and Naruto didn't have the slightest clue as to where he was hiding with Orochimaru.

He would've asked Jiraiya about all of these things that he now thought all by his lonesome, but the pervert pissed him off and antagonized his character—Calling me a phony?—commanding his ire in full-form; he told himself that it was okay, that there would be plenty of time for them to talk on their journey.

Now, all he could do was wait, and it was often his least favourite thing to do. Patience was not a virtue he had mastered, nor did he plan to, but he had no choice. So it was moonlight-mirages and the sight of Ino's sleeping-beauty until tomorrow.

Oddly enough, he let himself be vulnerable in front of her, and oddly enough she had never said anything to him, never made fun of him for crying, for feeling the pain that he did.

Ino turned out to be different than all the others, a lot more emotionally prescient. And because of that, Ino and him would never be the same, for now she knew the real Uzumaki Naruto, and he knew that he would never be able to hide from her again, though, it wouldn't matter considering that they wouldn't see each other for a while, and he hoped that by then the moment will have passed, that Ino will have forgotten all about it.

She wouldn't of course; he knew it deep down…but one can hope, right?

Eventually, Naruto fell asleep counting stars, mesmerized by the enchanting mirages that played across the hospital windows, one such image: nine tails made of light dancing majestically in front of his eyes—reminded him of Kurama. His last thought then was that if what he saw was not a dream…was the angry beast that raged inside his belly behind those gigantic prison-bars the same? Was that—he—Kurama…?

He wouldn't know for a long time, though, he hoped to. He didn't know why…but he hoped to. It was just another feeling.


A/N: Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. New release coming next Wednesday (that's the 17th!) so please look forward to it :)