Sealing Salientia - Chapter 9: Discovery - Author: PenSmoke

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor make any profit from writing this.

Previously on Sealing Salientia:
The front door crashed open, driven by a ninja kick from the oldest Sarutobi. The old wooden door rotated on screaming hinges that protested the sudden movement, smashed into the wall that it was hinged upon and snapped the metal cleanly off at the impact, falling to the floor in a huge 'whump'. As every single person in the house grabbed at a nearby weapon to prepare to defend against an enemy attack, Hiruzen hiccuped loudly while pointing at the door in a conspiratorial manner. "SSSSSSHHHHHH! Ahm supposed ta be QUIET!"

Konoha
Noon, October 13th, Year 65

Masuya lowered from his defensive position at seeing his father stagger in through the doorframe. He looked backward at what would have been his support if it had been a violent intruder and started to laugh. "Hey Raido, what were you gonna do? Stab him with a potato chip?"

The man in his late teens looked confused, and then realized he had taken an attack stance with the bag of chips he had been eating poised as a weapon, held like a kunai. Face flushing, he tossed the now crushed potato chips at the man who had called him out. "Shut it Masuya." Raido flopped back down onto the couch, recognizing there was no danger, letting the adrenaline flow out of his system. Asuma had had his team here plenty of times before, and so he wasn't afraid of being punished for being there, especially since both Asuma and Masuya were here as well.

All of the other teens exchanged a look and released their held collective breaths as the moment passed. Kurenai slid back the actual kunai she had unholstered into a pouch, and Asuma lowered the carving knife that he had yanked off the counter.

"HEY! Wha'shu guys doin' heer? Why aren't yous guys out cel… shell… sell… celebrationing!" Seeing his father in an obvious drunken stupor, Masuya quickly grabbed him around the waist and led him to his desk, which had the comfiest seat in the house. "Wash yerself… I can handle my drinksh. Let me walk shon my own!" Pushing himself off of Masuya, he stumbled ungracefully into his plush leather recliner, twisting and squirming until he was comfortable, which meant he was still half facing into the chair while trying to talk.

The mumbled words were audible, but all four people present had no idea what was being spoken. Masuya motioned for his little brother to join him, while Kurenai and Raido exchanged hushed words about the former Hokage.

"Have you ever seen him like this?" Kurenai queried.

"Can't say that I have, he must have had a lot to drink. Man I should go get drunk, seems like a good night for it." Raido remarked.

The two sons of the Third Hokage stood on either side of his desk, looking back and forth between themselves and their father, not really sure what to do. They had never seen Hiruzen like this, the man wasn't a known lush, and he hadn't really ever done more than the occasional sake or plum wine.

Realizing that nobody could understand the indecipherable mess spewing forth into the couch cushion, Masuya re-situated his father so that they could hear him. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to realize that they had no idea they hadn't been able to understand anything he was saying. "… An' why don' thosh two getsh toge'er! Ery'one knows she likesh him. Shilly kidsh." He said while waving his arms towards the kitchen.

At this, Kurenai turned bright red and excused herself, leaving the kitchen quickly. Asuma started to go after her, but paused. "You got this, bro?" He questioned, looking at his father. Kurenai sped past them, her arms trying to cover her face, which had started to match her outfit again.

"Yeah, I think I can handle it from here," giving a wink at his little brother and making a mental note to tease him about it later. With that and a look of relief on his face, Asuma took off as well, attempting to catch up to his kunoichi teammate.

Raido sauntered up after another moment, saying, "Yeah, I think I should probably go get outta here too. I'm sure your old man doesn't want people to know about this. Don't worry, I'll keep it down." Nodding in relief, Masuya acknowledged him with a quick "Thank you."

Moments later that house was empty except for a babbling, drunken old man and his sober son. Masuya sighed and went to go get some water, both to have his father drink and to help rouse him from the state of stupor he was in. Arriving back from the kitchen a few seconds later, he noted with a huff of amusement that his father was snoring, head down on the desk.

Grabbing him by the shoulder and shaking him wasn't doing the trick, so he did the next best thing that would wake any shinobi worth their salt instantly. He drew his sword, making sure to create just enough noise to be heard.

Instantly, the eyes snapped open and Hiruzen went to reach for a defensive weapon, though none was there. Eyes scanning the room for his would-be attacker, he locked onto his son, who was now sheathing his blade, and he understood. The rush of adrenaline would clean out his system for a moment, enough for him to realize what was going on. Instantly he felt the burning tingle in his face of humiliation. He remembered how he had just been behaving, and had publicly embarrassed his son in front of his team. The older Sarutobi hoped that they would still respect him after that display.

Hearing his son speak, his raised his face. "So, care to explain what happened?"

Honestly, he didn't. He didn't want to tell his son what had transpired. But, he knew that it was going to come out anyway, no point in delaying the inevitable. And it wasn't exactly bad news anyway.

"Fugaku and I talked. We talked long and hard, for many hours. Finally, we reached a reconciliation point. He apologized for his actions and explained why he did them. I may be foolish, but I believed him, and forgave him. As a point of reconciliation, he agreed to keep you on as ANBU Commander, to show he wasn't trying to usurp me completely." At this, his son looked surprised. Evidently, they had both shared the same thought process, that with new power, things would be changing. "He agreed to let you stay in charge of the ANBU for at least a year, and see where things went from there."

Hiruzen continued, "He also offered me something that I've wanted to do for a long time, just never had the time to do it. I'm going to be in charge of the Ninja Academy. I can finally stop sending out undertrained kids as 'genin' who are only going to die for nothing. He offered to let me revamp the whole system as I saw fit, just so long as I ran the changes through him first." The elder Sarutobi could feel the effects of the adrenaline rush wearing off. "Son, could you help me to my bedroom? Fugaku broke out his secret stash of Uchiha wines from their family shrine. Or should I say shine? Heh. That stuffsh good. I think we drank three whole bottlesh." The slur was coming back, and he could feel the lovely haziness drifting over his senses again, numbing everything down into nothingness. His sons' arm snaked under his armpit and hoisted him up.

"When yoush gonna get a girl like Ashuma hash in that Kurenai? She caresh for him. Yoush need to find a girl likesh that!" Hiruzen declared, slipping back into the drunken stupor that he had been in a few minutes ago. His son led him to his bed, and he lay down, comfortable even in his normal dress attire.

"Mmmm, yesh, Mashuya and Ashuma, you guysh go forth and make me a bunsha gran'kidsh." Hiruzen mumbled softer and softer as he drifted off to the land of slumber. He didn't even feel his eldest son pull the blankets up over him, nor did he hear the comments that were made about a 'silly old man'.

Jiraiya was living the good life. While he had to take care of young Naruto, the child was really no trouble. The bright blue eyed boy spent nearly the whole day napping, waking only to be fed and play for a short while before falling asleep again. 'If I had known kids were this easy, I'd have had one years ago.' The thought passed his mind as he looked around at his surroundings. While matron of the house was still not the happiest at housing a child in such conditions, Jiraiya had provided enough coin to keep her mollified for now. And the girls. Oh my, the girls. He didn't even have to request them, they were just flocking to his door on their down time, to squeal at the baby and hold him. He was careful to make sure they didn't injure the boy, but he was more than happy to watch while they interacted. Mmmmm, yes, the interactions were quite lovely indeed. The way they bounced when they played, or held their hands up to their face and squealed with joy when he did something cute. He was getting so much inspiration.

His only issue was that Naruto was eating FAR more than he had ever expected. They had only been in this location for about a day, and he was already through more than what he was told should have been two weeks' worth of food. He had an idea as to why the child was eating so much, but had no idea where it was going.

Literally. He had no idea where it was going. In the past, he heard horror stories of baby poop situation, describing this oily, greasy, goopy black mess that accompanied newborns. The tales of the stench were incredible, ranging from taking your breath away to automatic induction of gagging to even immediate projectile vomiting. He was starting to think that the fathers who had told him these tales were exaggerating not just a little bit. He hadn't had to change the kid yet, even after hours of genjutsu induced sleep/travel, and 24 hours of what felt at times like constant feeding. He wasn't sure if this was normal, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Or the rear. Whichever it may be in this case.

For the moment, though, he had a break from all the attention that his room had been receiving. While seeing the ladies constantly was nice in oh so many ways, he also wanted to get a closer inspection of that seal. He hung the little 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door, and he swore he heard a groan of disappointment from nearby. Perhaps, with where he was, it was a groan of something else too, but that wasn't on his mind right now.

He carefully unwrapped Naruto's tummy from the bindings that had kept it covered, and peered at the intricate markings that circumscribed the midsection. While he could see the skin make small goosebumps from the cool air, that wasn't his concern right now, the child would be wrapped back up shortly. He grabbed his notebook, but not his normal research one. This notebook was old and ragged, having a leather covering that was nearly falling apart, bound together by a thick strap. It opened to yellowed and cracked pages that contained hundreds of his personal notes on seals. Everything he had ever learned on seals was in this one book. Including how to add extra pages to the same book so he could keep everything in one place. And how to make paper waterproof. And plenty of others that he had found small uses for. But, right now he wasn't looking for his dribblings on how to tweak tiny mundane seals. He wanted to go to the big things.

Flipping a few pages, turning one particular page counter-clockwise, and then using one piece of paper to give himself a shallow cut, enough to bleed on the edge of the paper, and the information he needed was in front of him. Tobirama's research on the Reaper Death Seal, and various notes from himself and Minato sprinkled throughout.

"Reaper Death Seal Technique.
This seal summons the god of death themselves to aid the caster in battle. The god of death will latch on to designated target and take possession of them, sealing target into whatever container needed. This can apparently be used on any object, regardless of mass or power. BEWARE: Cost of using this seal appears proportionate to whatever is being sealed, up to and including the caster's life."

A note scribbled over two lines on the side in his own handwriting read:
"Must research, how did he find out the cost?
How did he summon god of death to verify it works without paying his own life?"

Another note written at the bottom of the page, is his former students' writing read:
"Can confirm, price is commensurate to required sealing."

He remembered that little experiment quite clearly. His student had taken to the sealing arts like a duck to water, and he took in whatever knowledge he could find. After watching Jiraiya take some notes, he had snuck off with the sage's notebook one day, and started playing around with all the different things within. Jiraiya had caught him just a little too late, and Minato had used up almost all of his chakra to try and seal a marking tag into a kunai.

The boy had been proud, reckless and stupid, but Jiraiya had loved him as his own son. Which, he supposed made the child he carried like his own grandson in a way. He wouldn't have been surprised if, had Naruto's parents lived, he would have been named as the kids' godparent, along with Sarutobi-sensei.

Shaking off old memories, he checked the real reason he had opened it back up to this page. A carefully drawn design of what the Reaper Death Seal should look like. He knew he had seen something wrong back in Konoha and wanted to double check his work, since he had been pressed for time then.

Carefully poring over every detail was something most people wouldn't associate with the normally slightly hyperactive older ninja, but when it came to seals, very little drew his attention more. Not even the most gorgeous of bathing suit beauties could pull him away if he was doing real research. Unless it was Tsunade. There was always an exception to every rule, right? Wiping the bit of drool from his lip that always accumulated during that line of thinking, he went back to business.

He reviewed the seal in its' entirety. He looked at the spikes and the shape. He audited the inner spiral. He surveyed the path of the outer spiral. He took a deep-dive into the kanji. Finally, he noticed one thing. One tiny little thing out of place.

'Hmmm, that hook shaped scribble isn't supposed to be here.' Was the thought he had while lightly tracing the symbol with his finger. Unsure as of yet what it might mean, he continued looking it over, as he didn't think that was it. It had been something about the entirety of the design and the way it felt, the aura it gave off.

He stepped back for a second, leaving Naruto alone on the floor, to which he immediately started crying. The light swirls of action cascading into muscle movements underneath. He thought for a second about how the silence of the evening could be broken by such a cry. Loud versus silent, one would always conquer the other in a never-ending cycle. Yin and Yang.

Yin and Yang.

Wait… that was it!

Yin and Yang!

The man immediately dived back into studying anew. He realized what he had felt that was wrong, and it was his Sage senses tingling. As he had mostly mastered the art of the sage mode and could feel nature chakra around him, pulling it into himself, he had an acute awareness of how yin and yang energy blended in everything around him. In retrospect, with his realization, it was glaringly obvious.

The kid absolutely OOZED Yang chakra. He hadn't really noticed it outside of his own chakra signature, because while the child's was absolutely gigantic for an infant, next to Jiraiya's, it was a candle against a bonfire. Now that he focused on it, he could very clearly feel how the flow was completely one sided, with almost no Yin chakra moving through his system. His lifeforce was overflowing with yang, boosting his vitality and endurance. That's probably where all that food went, trying to sustain such a massive energy source with just formula wasn't going to be very effective. He'd bet free copies of his next book that Naruto was going to be able to pack the meals in later.

Well, that solved that particular riddle, though it didn't help the situation. In order to do chakra techniques, you needed to be able to blend both Yin and Yang amounts into one continuous stream. While it didn't have to be a perfect 50/50 split, it did need to be close. With what he could feel now, if nothing changed Naruto trying to do chakra techniques would be like trying to evenly mix the outputs of an eyedropper and a fire hose at full blast. That would be a huge detriment. Quickly jotting a few notes, he chuckled to himself.

A legendary ninja that couldn't do handseals and a jinchuriki who wouldn't be able to use chakra techniques. What a pair they'd make.

Iruka Umino had never really taken to anything like this book before. He knew that he had been a realtively studious kid under his parents, who were both ninja. Ikkaku and Kohari had always taken time to make sure he was training or learning or doing something to progress towards becoming a ninja. But this book was fascinating to him on a level that the training with his parents had never been. Perhaps it was because this book was about saving people being read by a boy who had just lost those precious to him. Or perhaps he had always been destined to practice medical techniques. He wasn't sure.

Continuing to read, he reached down to his pocket and felt the one possession he still had from his old life, a throwing star, dented and battered from practice, but meticulously cleaned and oiled; which gave it an unusual look of both being brand new and very old at the same time. He had brought it with him the night of the attack, knowing that the one star was basically useless against any real threat, but his parents had taught him never to be unarmed. He had almost thrown it at the great beast too, just before it disappeared from his vision. Now it was his last memento, as his house has been destroyed and burned, everything within lost to him forever.

Removing it from its' sheath within his pocket, he ran his fingers over the star, lightly caressing the edges and resting the tip of his thumb against the point, until the razor-sharp tool had slowly pierced into the skin. Ignoring the minor pain, he looked at the tiny wound, that had the tiniest pinprick of blood coming out of it.

Concentrating on the way his chakra felt, he read the passage from the book again: "The Mystical palm technique uses a user's own chakra to move and bend the target's body to perform certain action, such as pushing the cells back together to heal a wound. There is no limit to what can be reformed and manipulated, so long as the chakra control necessary is obtained and the supply is great enough."

Clearing his mind, he reached into himself and pulled the various threads of the weave of chakra inside him to life. He willed them to go to his hand, reveling in the rush of energy that it created. He thought of joyful thoughts and made his energy feel light and playful. Using his right hand, he pushed the chakra around his hand until it formed a barely visible green shell, just as he had seen Nono doing at the hospital.

With hand encased inside a glowing seafoam colored energy shroud, he put his right hand just above the tiny speck of blood on his left. Gritting his teeth, he willed the chakra to push the skin back together for what felt like several hours, but was probably only a few seconds. After that time, exhausted from the exertion, he wiped the dot of blood away to notice that the skin that had been parted was pushed back together again, no more blood seeping out.

Letting loose a light laugh of accomplishment, he laid down on the rickety bed, and stared into the ceiling, willing his energy to return. As he did, he slowly spun the throwing star in his off-hand again. And slowly, this time enjoying the sensation, let the throwing star pierce his thumb again.

Deep in the tunnels underneath Konoha, a man lurked in the darkness, completely comfortable in the embrace of the inky depths. Half of his face was bandaged, leaving only the left eye, nose, mouth and chin visible. He also wore the cloth wrappings around his midsection, pulled tightly. His left arm held a walking cane as he slowly paced across the beaten ground floor of the cave he was in, his right arm appearing to be missing from the shoulder. Dressed in a black edged robe tied together with a loose light purple sash around the waist. With a distinctively cross marked scar on his chin, his face was well recognized even in the dark.

He slowly walked down the edge of a railing that overlooked a drop off into a deeper cave below. The bottom of that cave was lit, and there were two shinobi fighting at the bottom of it. Fighting for him, to be specific. He constantly held battles amongst those he had recruited, both to make sure that his troops were at the top of their skill, and to keep an eye out for any emotion. If a soldier of his hesitated to make anything other than a lethal blow in a spar, they were immediately removed and received a session or two of 'treatment' until the emotion was removed. Emotions were a hindrance on only slowed ninja down, holding them back from being their best.

As one of the fighters brutally knocked the other out cold and left him laying in the dirt, unconscious and bloodied, he nodded in approval and continued walking as the victim was hauled off for 'treatment', of both medical and the other variety. He had trained these ninjas from nothingness to become the best shinobi they could be. He had gone through painstaking calculations into what the human body could tolerate, and pushed his soldiers to the very edge of their limits to remove all vulnerabilities. None of his troops could be swayed by compassion or love or justice. They had one and only one goal, to protect the leaf from underneath, the roots holding up the tree. His ROOT would save Konoha.

For a long time, he had been trying to get his wisdom pushed into the mainstream above, but those stupid civilians, with their concepts of morality and justice; which had no place in the world of deception and murder that was shinobi; would shoot down his plans every time. He hated those arrogant fools, and wished nothing more than to find a way to remove them and their weakness from his life. But, with that sentimental idiot Hiruzen in charge, he had never made headway.

Then that child of civilians had intruded on his plans, Minato had burst through everyone's expectations and taken over. That blonde freak had the ideas of love and emotions ground into him through generations of civilian parenting. He knew that man had been a weakling, his idiotic desire to give his own life to seal the Kyuubi was monumentally stupid, only further reinforcing the ideas that Danzo was so sure of.

He had begun sowing the seeds of discord amongst the Uchiha and their meddlesome police force, trying to find a crack in the armor to get to the civilians without getting his own hands dirty. He had started to succeed too. Rumblings of dissent had been tossed around through his agents and spies and had taken a life of their own. He was going to translate all of it into removing not only the civilian nuisances, but potentially obtaining some Sharingan to augment his collection. Making two of his enemies weaker while creating a strength for himself without any loss or risk to his own forces. It had been perfect.

Until Fugaku had managed to finagle his way into the Hokage position. Now his ideas of insurrection with the Uchiha were ruined. There was no way he could make them believe that they were purposely being kept from power, when their clan head had been appointed to Hokage with the vote of the council. Years of carefully laid plans, completely wasted.

But, anger was also a waste, he reminded himself as he checked his temper. Anger was yet another emotion that only weakened a sharp mind. Danzo would need a new plan, a new way to spread the seeds of his teachings into the sun, creating a new forest of leaves for the village to truly hide within. His Roots would grow, and his enemies would wither. With time. All it took was time.

AN: More than 3,000 total views and 1,000 unique visitors have read this so far, from countries across the world. And 24 people have favorited it! That's pretty cool! Thanks guys! Constructive Criticism welcome.

Two updates this quick? What can I say? I got bored at work and felt like writing more.

Uh-oh, Iruka looks to be discovering something about himself. To those who may be triggered by it, I'm sorry, but this is a fictional work involving fictional characters, and I'm trying to portray them as realistic as possible. They will have flaws. They will have problems. A great story is about people overcoming obstacles, and that includes mental ones too. Please read with caution. If it disturbs you too much to read, I apologize, and am sorry to see you go.

Drunk Sarutobi is fun to write. I think it is possible it'll happen again. Also, we have covered all but two of the plot points that I need to have covered before the time starts moving forward in bigger chunks, though we definitely aren't jumping all the way to genin days. Next big event is about a year down the line.

What, you think I'd write almost 50,000 words to cover the events of 48 hours, and then skip a dozen years without anymore interesting things? Oh, ye of little faith. By the time we get to genin days, at least 4 of the students will have significant differences to canon, as will at a bunch of other characters, some of which haven't even been introduced yet.

Don't worry, you'll have plenty of time to get to see the craziness of story that I have planned out.