Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Naruto. Maybe in my dreams.


Chapter 1

Naruto Uzumaki woke to the sounds of chirping birds and sizzling grease.

Never one for mornings, he sluggishly pulled himself out of his sleeping bag. Tugging on his high-collared orange jacket and running a hand through his messy blonde hair as a vain attempt to straighten it out, he opened his tent flap to address the only remaining problem he faced. Heading towards the edge of the clearing he and his godfather had made camp in, Naruto passed said man while he was hunched over a small campfire. Pan and spatula in hand while attempting to fry bacon, for the fifth time if the pile of charred black husks lying unceremoniously in the dirt was any indicator. Turning his attention back to the most important matter at hand, Naruto continued his trek to the edge of the clearing.

The blonde made his way to the largest bush he could find, stepping into it slightly to relieve himself after a full night's rest. With a simple sigh of content, he returned to the campfire where his caretaker was diligently at work cooking breakfast. Taking a seat on a small log, Naruto took a moment to realize the features of his godfather. He was tall, taller than most men but not too imposing. His face was squared off and masculine, even sporting a large wart on the end of his nose if only to further accentuate the rough and manful demeanor he carried himself with. He had unruly white hair tied in a long ponytail that brushed the ground when he sat, as it was now. His attire usually consisted of a waist length red haori over a green tunic, both of which were hung over a low branch drying - following a sudden and unexpected bath the night before. He still wore his mesh armor undergarments and green pants however.

Those were more water resistant than his tops had been.

Turning his attention back to the breakfast his godfather was failing to prepare, Naruto let out a loud sigh before addressing him. "You're doing this all wrong." Without waiting for a reply, the blonde snatched the pan and spatula from his white-maned caretaker. Placing the pan directly over the center of the flame, Naruto began slowly moving it in a circular motion while pressing each piece of bacon firmly against the bottom. The sizzling of the grease intensified until it turned into popping, at this point Naruto flipped the pieces over to begin cooking their counterpart sides.

"I'll never understand how you're so good at this, kid," the white haired man sighed dejectedly. "I've been alive nearly forty years now, but I can't seem to best a brat at something as simple as cooking." He threw his arms up at the sky, questioning the mercy of the gods'.

Naruto shook his head in disappointment, "There's nothing simple about cooking, Jiraiya, it takes genuine skill." Stopping momentarily to allow a smug smirk to make its way across his face. "But I guess you don't know anything about that now do you, old man."

A slight twitch of his eye was the only indicator that Naruto's jab had any effect against the man named Jiraiya. "You wanna compare skill huh, Naruto. Why don't we see just which of us is more skilled after breakfast." He cracked his knuckles to further imply his meaning. "After all, I do still owe you one for that little prank you pulled, uprooting a tree root right under my foot when I was on the bank of that river."

Gulping at the suddenly dark and menacing aura exuding itself from his godfather, Naruto kept his attention fully on the bacon he was nearly finished frying. "Of course, Jiraiya-sensei. I'd love nothing more than to show you just how much stronger I am than you." Damn his cocksure attitude, why couldn't he ever think before he accepted an impromptu training session. They never ended pleasantly for him, he thought he'd have learned by now.

Breakfast was finished far too quickly for Naruto's liking. It had been barely five minutes since he started eating and now he was squared off against the strongest person he'd ever met in an all-out sparring match. At least, it was all-out for Naruto, Jiraiya was definitely going to be holding back by about ninety-nine percent the whole time. Shaking off his trepidation, Naruto decided to make the first move. Crouching down until he was barely a few inches from lying completely flat on the ground, Naruto began the first step of the process by which he had been taught his entire life was the only way to engage in combat.

Closing his eyes and steadying his breath, Naruto looked deep within himself. Searching for the familiar warmth of the spiritual energy known as chakra, Naruto finally found it at the center of his torso. Grabbing hold of it as best he could after only seven years of training since he could walk would allow him, he began to push it out from within himself. The more chakra he grabbed ahold of, the easier it became for him to release it from his body. This entire process only lasted several moments and succeeded in one of the most fundamental yet useful aspects of chakra. The ability to strengthen one's physical form to the absolute limits of what the human physique would allow.

This process, even done to a seven year old boy, could still bring his physicality up to par with that of a grown man who had spent much of his adult life performing physically demanding tasks. It was this process that enabled the fighting force of the world Naruto had been born into, shinobi, to garner such tremendous reputation for their absolutely superhuman capabilities and achievements. The difference between trained shinobi and Naruto though, was that they had been reared since birth in a world that demanded them to be the absolute best or else suffer death at the hands of an opposing shinobi. Naruto had grown up wandering the wilderness and smaller villages of the Land of Fire with his godfather and sensei, Jiraiya. While he was taught since he could walk how to harness and control his chakra, the stakes of failing to be excellent at it were nowhere near that of death.

Still, his proficiency in the skill was nothing to make light of. For someone his age, Naruto had a surprisingly firm grasp over the fundamental use of chakra - he could access his chakra at any time with a near perfect success rate, although his finite control over it was beyond awful. This was the only aspect of Naruto's fighting style that actually posed a modicum of a threat to Jiraiya. The boy's use of chakra was phenomenal for his age, but his actual use of fighting techniques and forms was near nonexistent. The kid just didn't seem to understand that he couldn't win a fight by throwing sloppy haymakers and wild kicks around at his opponent. At least not if his opponent was a halfway decent shinobi of any kind. No, they'd kill him in an instant if he kept fighting like this even one minute into his shinobi career. Jiraiya was going to have to increase the training regiments at this rate if he wanted Naruto to be capable of handling himself by the end of his seventh year. That was the predetermined date that Jiraiya and the Third Hokage had agreed upon for Naruto's enrollment into the shinobi Academy located in the Land of Fire's military capital, Konoha.

Damn, that old geezer and his insistence on setting deadlines. It always made Jiraiya nervous to have a date hanging over his head.

Jiraiya's reprieve into his thoughts on the current situation was cut short by the blurred form of a rash blonde appearing before him, aiming a swift left hook at his jaw. Intercepting the light blow with his right forearm, Jiraiya used the momentary pause in Naruto's movement to respond with a strike of his own. With one impossibly fast punch to the sternum, Naruto was sent flying back a dozen feet before coming to a crashing halt against a tree trunk. Slumping forward slightly, Naruto revealed the spot behind him to have been splintered and smashed badly from the impact of his body. Taking only another moment to regain his senses, Naruto started to climb to his feet and ready himself for another attack.

Jiraiya couldn't help but smile at the sight, knowing that Naruto's body was developing some serious durability at least. The kid'll definitely need it if he can't learn how to throw a proper punch soon.

"Alright, Naruto, that's enough for right now," Jiraiya called out upon seeing Naruto gathering the chakra needed for another headlong rush. "We've got a place to be, and I'd prefer it if we were there sooner, rather than later."

Letting out a barely audible sigh of relief at not having to continue the horribly one-sided engagement, Naruto made his way back towards his tent to begin packing up all of his belongings. He never knew how long they'd be on the move before stopping in the next village or settlement, so he always tried his best to travel light. This meant that Naruto only had one change of clothes, a sleeping bag, and an ultra-lightweight tent that could be folded up and fit into a mid-size travel bag.

Having gathered his belongings, Naruto met with Jiraiya at the beginning of the small path that connected their clearing to the main road.

"Where're we off to now, old man," Naruto demanded as he laced his fingers behind his head, settling into his usual walking pose.

"A small village just north of here, about a day-in-a-half trip for us," Jiraiya replied while inspecting one of the thousand maps he always carried. Jiraiya had always told Naruto that a shinobi was prepared at all times for whatever may occur, but Naruto didn't know why anyone would need a thousand different maps of the same country.

"Ok, well what're we doing there," Naruto continued his quest for more in depth information on the current situation he found himself in. As always, Jiraiya withheld the most important details of the excursion, as if he knew how much it bothered Naruto not to know but he did it just to amuse himself.

No, that was definitely the reason.

Naruto groaned in annoyance at the behavior of his teacher. Why did he have to get stuck with the one guy who was just an enormous jerk all the time as not only his teacher, but his godfather and guardian. Returning his focus to his current objective, Naruto noticed that Jiraiya had already set off in the direction of the village, and there was a considerable gap in distance between himself and his immature guardian. Shaking his head in abject disappointment at the setting his life happened to be stuck in, Naruto took off at a trot to catch up with the large man.

"You left me behind," Naruto huffed indignantly.

"You didn't follow me when I left," Jiraiya countered with an apathetic glance at his blonde disciple.

Naruto decided to continue the rest of the trip in silence.

By the time the mismatched duo arrived at their destination, the sun had just begun to peek around the eastern mountains of the Land of Fire. The chirping of birds and rustling of leaves sounded out from behind the pair as they departed from the small forest path they'd followed for the past day. Moving onto the main road that led directly towards the small farming village that was their destination, the young blonde increased his pace to a full sprint. Covering the last hundred meters of road in only a dozen seconds, the boy hunched over to catch his recently lost breath.

Jiraiya arrived at the entrance to the village significantly later than Naruto, but with significantly more air in his lungs. He picked the still wheezing boy up by the hem of his collar, and tossed him over his shoulder. Naruto grumbled a nearly inaudible thankyou, but Jiraiya's attention had already been captivated by something far more interesting than the begrudging thanks of an ungrateful brat.

Moving with a determined swiftness he had not held at all their entire journey, Jiraiya arrived at the foot of a young woman who any would deem beautiful. Naruto looked back over his shoulder from his uncomfortable seat atop Jiraiya's shoulder to see what had sparked such a confidence in his godfather. He was sorely disappointed by what he saw.

It was a beautiful woman. As always was the case whenever Jiraiya got so determined or confident. It was always over a woman, never because of something interesting like shinobi work, creating a new technique, or even succeeding in cooking something properly. No, Jiraiya seemed to have a one-track mind when it came to things that severely motivated or inspired him.

Choosing the only reasonable course of action at the time, Naruto toned out his godfather's conversation entirely - if a grown man floundering and gushing about a young woman's physical appearance could be considered a conversation even. While searching the noticeable environment of the village for anything that could hold the boy's attention, Naruto spotted something that sparked interest in his young mind.

Across the street, nestled comfortably between two larger buildings, was a small, painted mural. Wriggling free from Jiraiya's grasp, Naruto jogged over to the painting, only to have his breath stolen away by the sight of the scene depicted on the wall.

It was a battle, only unlike any Naruto had ever seen illustrated before. The conflict was solely between a lone man and a giant raging fox demon, it's nine tails in a frozen rage as they smashed countless buildings to the ground. The lone man, wild blonde hair blown furiously in the winds created by the fox's tails, stood defiantly against the beast, the backdrop of a large city behind him. In one hand, the man held an oddly shaped, three-pronged kunai. The other hand was outstretched before him, an orb of spiraling blue energy rested gently in his palm, the vortex of whirlwinds surrounding it a violent contrast.

Naruto stared intently at the painting, absorbing every last detail. The cold resolve clearly shown in the man's pale blue eyes, the burning red hatred that surrounded black vertical pupils in the fox's eyes. The wild contrast between the man's blue sphere of energy and the fox's nine, burnt-orange tails as they both neared the other for a final attack. No detail was lost on the young boy, he couldn't even look away when his name was called by Jiraiya from across the street. Naruto didn't even know who this man was, but he admired him more than anyone else in his life. This was a shinobi. This was what Naruto wanted to become more than anything else. He wanted to be just like this fearless man, standing alone against a demon of such caliber.

"Naruto!" The boy was snapped from his deep reprieve into the mythos of the mural by the firm hand pressed against his shoulder. Jiraiya looked closely at the wall, realizing what it was that had so captured the attention of his young godson. His breath caught slightly at the scene of the battle displayed, regret, deep and painful, hammered into Jiraiya's chest. He calmed his nerves, pushed whatever feelings of guilt and shame he had felt back down and away for the time being, Naruto didn't need to see him like that.

"What is this, Jiraiya?" Naruto pointed a single finger at the painting of the battle.

Jiraiya sighed. "It was the last stand of the strongest shinobi of his time," he ran a hand through his unruly mane of white hair. "That was the Battle of Konoha, seven years ago a demon fox attacked the village, and that man defended the entire population single-handedly." At the cost of his and his wife's lives. Damn it, if only I'd been there to take his place.

"Did he win?" Naruto's innocent question tore straight through Jiraiya.

Closing his eyes to hide from the unknowing gaze of the boy, "No."

Naruto frowned, "That's not right, how could he lose?" Naruto glared accusingly at the noticeably aged visage of Jiraiya. "Heroes don't lose, they always win. No matter what."

Every story Naruto had ever read, the hero always won in the end. No matter what it took, even at the cost of his life, the hero would triumph by the conclusion. Naruto just couldn't accept that a man like this, who could face a monster so horrible alone, would just lose so absolutely in the end.

"Hah," Jiraiya shook his head. "You've got a lot to learn about the world, kiddo. Heroes rarely ever win in the end."

Naruto frowned again, returning his focus to the image of the blonde man standing against the demon fox. "He died didn't he."

Jiriaya narrowed a questioning gaze at the young blonde. He's never been this serious about anything besides training before. "Yes, he died during the battle."

"Did he beat the fox at least?" Naruto leveled his gaze on Jiraiya, the pleading look of desperation plain in his pale blue eyes.

Jiraiya didn't know how to answer the boy's question. Deciding to be as truthful as possible without revealing too much information about the nature of the sealing was the best answer Jiraiya could come up with at the moment. He hoped Naruto wouldn't be too inquisitive and just accept whatever basic details he gave for now. "The fox couldn't be killed if that's what your asking, but it could be sealed away."

Naruto's eyes fell beneath his spiky mop of yellow hair, his gaze downcast at the knowledge that the hero couldn't truly defeat the demon. "What'd he seal it into?"

Jiraiya expected this question. "I don't know, no one does."

Naruto pouted in disappointment at the unsatisfactory answer he'd received. "How'd no one see him seal it?" Naruto remembered the few times he'd seen Jiraiya perform a sealing jutsu, and they usually required a fair amount of space and time to complete successfully.

"The area he fought the fox in at the end was several miles away from the actual village. No one in their right mind would've gone anywhere near there while the battle was ongoing." Jiraiya explained. "To make matters worse, the strongest shinobi in the village were tied up with a small invading force of other demons, nowhere near the strength of the fox, but dangerous nonetheless."

Naruto decided he'd gotten all the answers he wanted for now. Wait! I never found out the hero's name.

"Jiraiya, what was this guy's name?" Naruto stopped Jiraiya in his tracks with that final question. Of course he'd wanna know the name of the hero of Konoha. Dammit, Sarutobi-sensei, you left me with such a damn hard job.

"His name, that's easy, kid," Jiraiya couldn't turn to face his disciple when he answered. "Minato Namikaze, Fourth Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves." And your father, Naruto.