"What do you say about getting some justice served?"

Tomiko frowns minutely, unconvinced.

I clear my throat. "I think uncovering the truth and judging all parties equally would be an opportunity to go forward. For you, for Konoha and for the world."

"Revenge is empty."

I smile. "That's why I'm not talking about revenge. Justice ought to be greater. It needs to be."

"I've killed Danzo."

"And? Konoha remains. If Konoha can be prosperous, happy and whatnot then Konoha can also be guilty. Responsibility can be individual and collective."

Tomiko blinks. "A village apologizing?"

"Why not, when a crime is committed in her name? "Konoha before all else" is only a justification for as long as we accept it. Then, it becomes an admission of guilt if we decide so. It is patriotic until it becomes sectarian. Justice might be the first step towards a necessary deconstruction."

She looks at me intently. Is it admiration or amusement I can see brightening her gaze? "You've really thought," she says, somewhat teasingly, slightly impressed too.

"I'm learning to," I answer, half prideful, half snarky.

Heirs to Asura, inheritors of the Body of the Sage and his prodigious Yang powers, Senju and Uzumaki are naturally prone to action rather than reflection. Uzumaki used Fuinjutsu to discipline themselves, Senju chose records keeping and wood carving (their old compound in Konoha looks magnificent). I'd say it's a bit less of a handicap as the Uchiha's penchant for emotions rather than reason but it's not helping. My childhood magnified this trait and allowed it to run rampant until it became almost crippling.

"What do you say?"

"Why ask me?"

"Because the process would shed light on the Uchiha affair. As the last one alive, you're the only one who can decide if you want to press charges. Also, I'd advocate for your freedom or at least that you be granted more of it."

"This is my punishment. I accept it."

"I'm a selfish bastard," I say impatiently, immediately irritated by her words, "so what happens if I don't? What if I don't acknowledge the justice of Konoha? What if I refuse this punishment, unilaterally decided by an office guilty of worse crimes? Because as I see it, it looks like another of these convenient twists that Nagato spoke of. They make you bear the brunt of a fault and never acknowledge their own responsibility in it."

"Naruto, please-"

"Your isolation does you no good, Tomiko. It is what started you on your path in the first place. You might accept the restrictions placed on you and limiting your movement might be fair. Cutting you off from people, though, there's just no way it can be good or just!"

"Naruto, listen. Please." Tomiko speaks forcefully and I click my mouth shut. She smiles at me. Her sorrow punctures a hole in my chest. Her happiness heals it shut instantly. "I'm touched. Nevertheless, I've sinned. If Konoha hadn't judged me, I'd-"

I bonk her on the top of her head, too fast for her to react. My voice escapes me and rises. "I didn't fight you as I did so you can stay all wrapped up in gloom! You won't atone by becoming a hermit! And more importantly, you won't heal. No way I'm leaving you alone now!"

Kurama takes this moment to chime in. "I thought healing was a personal journey?"

"Shut up, Kurama! And yes but it has nothing to do with the situation here!"

Tomiko blinks. "Kurama?"

"How so? Explain to me," insists my companion.

I flail and gesture at Tomiko. Isn't the answer obvious? She stares at me as if I've lost it but I ignore her. "Because loneliness doesn't cure itself by being even lonelier!"

I take a deep breath to compose myself and exhale slowly. I could never keep my calm as far as Tomiko is concerned and it seems I still can't. Tomiko lays a finger on top of my hand. I look up and her smile bedazzles me. It's quiet but warm.

"I'm never alone, Naruto. Even when you pulled so far ahead, you turned around and went back for me. I know you're with me."

I open my mouth. Close it shut. Open it again. No word escape. My mind has frozen, blanked out. I click my jaw tight and swallow thickly. I shake my head furiously; my whiskers are burning.

"No! Nuh huh! No way! You're not getting out of this with pretty words. You used to keep everyone at arm's length and spiralled out because of it. I'm not allowing you to do that again!"

Tomiko frowns. "First, you don't allow me anything. Second, I am not. You're visiting me right now."

"Well, I should be able to visit you more often!"

"Are we still talking about justice here?" snarks Kurama with a chuckle.

"Yes!" I want to tear my hair off. I groan, "Tomiko, you need to connect. Every good thing is shared. I'm not discussing the fact you did something wrong but accepting this cage won't help you, just like delving in your hatred didn't."

"It isn't about me receiving help. It is about repaying my debt to Konoha."

"Well it should, otherwise justice is useless! And what debt to Konoha? Also, what about the debt Konoha owes you? You might be guilty of a crime but it doesn't mean you cannot be the victim of another."

"Naruto, please, my life can't count-"

"More than Konoha? Than the many? They're a really convenient excuse, huh? Some will suffer through this act but it's all good because the many will profit from it. Well, no more! It's fucking time they stop paying their happiness with the misery of the few!"

"I'm not more important-"

"You are to me!" I cut her off. I shift ceaselessly and motion wildly and huff. I'm agitated, I can't help it. Her emotions and mine mix and merge in the web of my sensory ability; the result can be aptly described as a storm. "More than Konoha, more than any institution."

I gasp for air. My whiskers shudder, scalding. I look askance.

"So it isn't about justice or about me. It is about you," states Tomiko.

I glare at her and something grips my heart painfully. "You idiot! It is about you! Konoha isn't entitled to anything, much less your guilt! It's about us! About our relationship. About your relationships with others."

I exhale forcefully and take a balancing breath. "But you want to make it about me? I didn't really intend to do that but we can make it about me. You talk of debt, how about the one you owe me?"

Tomiko blinks and her surprise echoes all within me. "What I owe you?"

"Yes. You owe me to be my friend. Well, no, you owe me to at least try."

"We are friends."

"We have an all-kind-of-wrongs bond born from shared pain. I harrassed you for your acknowledgement and you feared giving it to me." I taste ash on the tip of my tongue and my stomach turns hollow. "I feel each of your pains, Tomiko but I don't know you. I want - I need to build something before all I'm left with are memories of a bitter tension! Tomiko, I want something normal. Incredibly boring if it must be but healthy." I swallow the knot tying up my throat. My voice scratches and skips. "I want to know what food you like so that we can have some together. I want to be silly with you like I can be with Sakura. I want to feel something else from you than just shame and guilt. I want us to share some joy."

Tomiko remains silent for a long time after that. She looks down and pulls at the hem of her kimono with her hand. When she looks up and speaks, her voice comes out as a murmur. "Why?"

My mouth dries up and I look left, right and away; everywhere except at her. I rest my chin on my fist and rivet my eyes to a wall. "I've already told you," I grumble. "You're losing your mind yet? Also, I said I'm actually selfish. Super, super selfish."

I steal a glance at Tomiko. It's her turn to look askance; she releases a shuddering breath. There's something catching the light in her eyelashes. She wipes it with the sleeve of her kimono.

"I killed you," she whispers.

Her shame and guilt crash against me like a tsunami against a levee. I almost buckle under the strain. The dark emotions obscure her bright chant and I immediately long for its return. My eyes burn. I feel with every fibre of my being that Tomiko is sorry; it makes it difficult to bear any real rancour against her. Beyond words and actions, I intimately know her regrets, her sorrow, more than anyone else's.

There lies the linchpin of our problem. She cannot forgive herself, she doesn't think I should forgive her either but I cannot hate her.

I force a smile on my face. "You tried. I'm unkillable."

Honestly, if someone asked me why I allowed her to repeatedly attempt to murder me, why I never gave my all in any of our fights - yes, even the last - for fear of killing her, why I'm so hung up on her, well… I'd probably have no satisfying answer.

Meeting with myself partly enlightened me. This thing I share with Tomiko goes so much further than her being my "first friend". We weren't even true friends to begin with anyway, we weren't even rivals competing for the same goal. Nonetheless, there exists a kinship between us. We both grew up lonely but that's not all. I can't explain it merely through our inherited karma either. We're spiritual siblings (or something like that) and it contributes to this bond but that's not all there is to it, far from it.

I think Tomiko, as soon as I met her, became my symbol. Before, I'd trudge through the days aimlessly, kept alive by the vague, mostly meaningless words of an old man who was only pretending to care. Minato Namikaze was an obscure figure, a dream without substance. Tomiko was real. Her skills earned her praise and admiration, even after Itachi made her an orphan. Beyond the shared situation, Tomiko was my proof that being lonely didn't equate to being weak and scorned. Yes, she had received some training and education from her clan before she became an orphan but it was all the same to me at the time.

Above all, she was my proof that being lonely didn't necessarily mean a lack of drive. Tomiko strove to be the best and sought revenge; she existed for something. I craved this, incapable of truly finding it myself. Sarutobi's poisoned suggestions were useful to pick myself up but never the expression of my actual desire. Worse, they became a chain that made me dependent on the villager's goodwill. Tomiko reassured me; she meant I could exist too, I just had to find my drive.

When Haku told me that strength came to people when protecting something precious to them, the answer was obvious. More than Teuchi and Ayame who first showed me solicitude, more than Iruka who recognized my efforts, there was one person who had saved me just by being here.

Tomiko had already become the linchpin of my world. She was my tether, obsessively so. Obviously, it turned ugly as it only could. I didn't care. Thanks to her, I could endure the stifling silence, the choking void. For her, I'd continue doing so, until the day she would acknowledge me. In the meantime, I started hurting each time I'd see her carry the weight of her vengeance, the burden of her hate.

I caught up to Tomiko thanks to Haku's words and a lot of unwilling help from Kurama. I became powerful enough to deserve her acknowledgement. Out of fear and jealousy, Tomiko refused me, pushed me away. Angered, betrayed, I didn't have the sense to share Haku's words with her, I didn't have the courage to talk to her about Kurama and I couldn't keep her from Orochimaru.

Our bond is all kind of fucked up but there's still more which I can't exactly put into words. It's turmoil, fire and wind, lightning and rain howling in a storm, it's the fine sand beneath the raging seas, it's a tree plunging its roots in fertile soil. It's the sun and moon never quite meeting, never quite parting. It's the song of her being that I'm just drawn to, like a moth to a flame.

Am I angry that she did all that she did? Extremely so, kind of, not really.

I'm glad she failed a lot and succeeded by accident. She barely killed Itachi by herself, got rid of Deidara by miracle (good riddance), failed miserably when she tried to capture Bee (which I'm thankful for, he is a cool dude), got rid of Danzo (good riddance), failed when she tried to kill Ay (a shame). Her actions could have put us at war with other nations at a critical moment, it somehow didn't. I could keep justifying my selfish wish to go after her.

I don't want to condemn her. Suna got the Gaara they deserved, so did Konoha get the Tomiko they crafted. One cannot drop a ceramic pot, watch it shatter and complain to the broken pot. The pot could have very well been me and this certitude burns like a brand in the centre of my mind. I don't want to imagine a crime so grave it cannot earn forgiveness because it is through mere chance that I'm not the criminal.

Her mad, monstrous brother caged Tomiko in hate, allowing her no other way but vengeance. Orochimaru was the beginning of this path, its first step but it is Itachi who chained Tomiko to it, Itachi who pushed her towards oblivion. Tomiko could (maybe) have refused to walk it. She could (maybe) have torn herself away from that path. It would have left her a shell, more dead than alive; a terrible denial of her existence.

I say "could" but after suffering twice under the Tsukuyomi, what choice did Itachi allow her to perceive? Tsunade herself cannot say what the effects of Itachi's mind-rape were. A compulsion too strong to ignore, so strong that no alternative seems sound, that joining Orochimaru becomes the next logical step. A compulsion only broken upon the death of the caster. It isn't far-fetched at all in our world.

Namikaze didn't need a genjutsu to seal Kurama inside me. He didn't need a genjutsu to make himself responsible for my ostracism and the pain I had to endure each time Kurama tried to regain his freedom. Duty, the terrible goal to "protect the village" proved enough and damn the cost; that and his perceived lack of choice at the time.

I can fully imagine Tomiko didn't, couldn't think she had any choice after two mind-rapes and a cursed brand.

At least, I know I chose to go after Tomiko. For all kinds of whack reasons, yes, but it was my drive, not the lies of Sarutobi. I have forgiven; I can forgive Tomiko.

Nonetheless, she speared me several times with her Chidori. She betrayed - not so much Konoha nor her vows as a shinobi but her acknowledgement of me. She hurt many people, physically and emotionally, on her quest.

Where does her guilt begin? Where does the responsibility of others must be accounted for? I don't know. Tomiko knows I'm angry and she apologized; I know she wouldn't do it again. Kurama taught me it's okay to be angry at people you love and to keep loving them. So what am I going to do, stay angry? The feeling writhes like a nest of serpents in my chest; it's exhausting, a waste of time and I'm not interested in raising vipers.

I'm still mad. Tomiko isn't off the hook. I exhale through my nostrils to keep my sentiments from flaring up. I don't need Tomiko to apologize again. It gets on my nerves.

"I still want to give friendship a chance. Actual, sane friendship. Don't question that."

"Thank you," she mutters quietly after a pause. "I'd like that too." I hear her swallow thickly. "I'm just not sure how to do it."

"I want to help you. But I think it would be good if you could see more people more often."

"Uzumaki. Your time is up."

I turn towards the ANBU and glare. "I'm talking right now-"

Tomiko squeezes my wrist. "Go, Naruto. Don't cause trouble. I'll think about all that you told me."

I turn to her and see her smile. I smile back and relax. "I'll invent a space-time ninjutsu to spend more time here."

She rolls her visible eye. "You do that. Will you come next week?"

"I'll be here, of course."

"Thank you."

It's my turn to give her hand a squeeze. "I'll see you."

I rise to my feet and exit the house. I sigh, rolling my shoulders and neck but tension refuses to bleed off my bones. Every meeting with Tomiko resembles a confrontation, her feelings always so raw, my perception nearly overwhelmed. This only complicates our already messed-up relationship.

"You know," sighs Kurama, "I'm glad I cannot feel as many conflicting emotions as you do. I'm mainly anger and a little love and thankfully never awkwardly both. And my life is so much easier than yours."

I scratch the back of my head. "I apologize for earlier. I shouldn't have spoken to you so harshly."

"Apology accepted."

"You really don't feel like us?"

"I'm sure I don't. You know I perceive what you feel, right? Well, my own emotions are much easier to untangle. When I was angry against Asura, I'd go and destroy a mountain and come back a day later, not agonize over it for months."

"I see. Thanks."

"What for?"

"Sharing this. I like knowing more about you, Kurama."

His appreciation flows with his chakra through my empathic web. It's incredible that this same power that used to burn me alive feels so soothing today. I walk in silence through the forested back alleys of the village for a few minutes before I sigh. The turmoil within me hasn't abated in the least.

"You're feeling too loudly," chides Kurama patiently. "Say what you want to say."

"I know," I groan and lean against the large trunk of a red tree. "It's just… I feel like I'm like them. Look at this troublemaker," I spit in a poisonous tone, "it's no wonder he is so rude, he is an orphan. Kakashi is an orphan too, Tomiko also. No one helped me and people sneered behind my back that I was uncouth, incapable, helpless-"

"That's mainly due to me," interrupts Kurama. "Also because they are a bunch of cotton-candy people."

"Why do you even know what cotton candy is?"

"You ate some during a celebration a while ago. Stay on tracks."

"Right. My point is, who helped Kakashi when he was five and fatherless? Who helped Tomiko? The Hokage told me Konoha had been founded to protect children from violence and look at how Konoha utterly failed."

"For the sake of the argument, I'd say it has also succeeded a lot," says Kurama with an indifferent sway of his tails. Konoha could burn that my friend wouldn't bat an eye.

"Really? Isn't one failure too much already? What were Namikaze's words again? Forsake one child, forsake the village? I was forsaken, Tomiko was too, so was Kakashi, Nagato, Konan and Yahiko, Nawaki and the children of ROOT. I can't stop counting them."

"And? How does that make you remotely similar to the villagers?"

I look up. The foliage filters the sunlight and casts a cool shade all around the tree. I motion to the ground, plunged in the shadows. "The soil is rich here. If this tree weren't occupying this spot, I'm sure flowers would grow. We're the product of our environment, Kurama. I'm only the way I am because of the decisions made by others during my infancy, childhood and teenage years. I've had so, so little choice."

I sigh and my shoulders slump. "Now, I'm cross with Kakashi because he never acted like an adult. Konoha never allowed him to become one in the first place. People blamed me for your actions. Am I not blaming Kakashi for his childhood? One he had no control over? Stuck between death, grief and stress, knowing no way to cope because no one allowed him to discover one!"

"I'm cross with Tomiko but was she her own master? Am I not blaming her for the damages inflicted on her instead of blaming Itachi? I don't want to rob her of her agenda but could I push the full responsibility onto her considering what happened to her?"

I feel disgust rise like bile in my throat. I may perceive emotions but motives? I'm not a telepath, I cannot read minds. This leaves a blank space in my mental map, a blind spot that I cannot trust. It hurts. It's confusing.

"Was it her choice to use the Chidori against me? Did she want to kill me? Why would she leave me alive then, when she could have slit my throat? So, she didn't want to kill me? Even in her folly, her behaviour was incoherent. I can't even be angry at her last bout of madness because, all things considered, she had a plan for world peace while I still have no idea about any of it."

Kurama hums. The sound rolling from the back of his throat rumbles like distant thunder. "I think I understand your interrogation. Can you hold responsible people if they are fundamentally irresponsible?"

"Yes! Exactly! They aren't innocent but then, no one is! How much control do people have in this shitty system?! I don't know! And I don't want to act like the villagers! Ever!"

"It's not necessarily your responsibility to help those people either," retorts Kurama evenly.

I flail my arms. "I know! But it feels like watching the forest burn and doing nothing because 'muh, muh it's not my responsibility!' Nobody is ever fucking responsible! So if I don't take it, who will? The cowards living in this village? Ha!"

"You are getting angry and you just talked out loud. Find a calm place to meditate. You'll not find any answer if you're like this."

I flare my chakra - some of it slips from my control and shatters the ground under my feet as I jump. A second later, I'm in the middle of Training Ground forty-four. The air cracks thunderously around me and whines as it cools down. I sit in the lotus position and start breathing, in and out. I let my thoughts unravel and float away as I focus on the flow of my chakra. The anger ensnaring my chest dissolves like filth washed by water. I'm the thrum of my inner might, the junction between Heaven and Earth.

I reach for stillness; I become the balancing point of all forces. Suddenly, the world opens to an understanding more profound than that which is granted by the superficial five senses. Trees and flowers communicate through the pollen carried by the bees, the tweets of birds become warnings, greetings or mating calls, a soft humidity permeates the air, invisible droplets dance in the currents of wind. The predatory whisper of fur and paws informs me a panther is stalking her way around me but I'm not worried; there's one apex predator in these woods and it's not her.

The world weighs upon all things, as the sun weighs upon all worlds and the stars whirl in a ballet far beyond my scope. The insignificance of my existence grants me a precious clarity of mind.

"Good," approves Kurama.

"My hurt is real," I say slowly, out loud. I taste each word before I share them with my surroundings, to make sure they are the right one. "I just never want to take it out on anyone, much less those who don't deserve it. My entire life is a commentary on why it's useless."

"I know."

"I've been wronged, however. Can it remain without consequences?"

"I think your dilemma is the same as for Tsunade. Only you can decide whether you want these people to be a part of your life."

"I do have affection for them. Cutting them off would simply hurt me even more. Yet how else would I extract some compensation?"

"I believe you realize how much you pained Kakashi by simply telling him what you thought of him. You are an uncanny human, Naruto. Parts of it might come from Asura's karma but you're ultimately your own person and you possess an uncanny propensity for mercy. More than your mastery of ninjutsu or ninshu, there lies your power. Do not regret it."

"It feels like a burden sometimes. When you possess the strength to be magnanimous and you aren't, what does it say about you?"

"That you aren't one of the heroes of these stories you used to like. But why should it fall upon you to be one?"

I smile. I'm tired. "I don't know if it's ever a choice, Kurama. For the longest time, I only wanted acknowledgement, the possibility to walk with my head held high, the assurance that I wasn't an empty shell. After I donned my hitai-ate, everything I've received gave a sense to my existence. Kakashi's only lesson, Haku's words, Tsunade's sorrow, Jiraiya's dream and Nagato's pain… I'm the product of all this, I, who was nothing."

"And yet, you abandoned your hitai-ate. It meant much to you. Who says you cannot reinvent yourself further?"

I breathe out slowly. "To become what?"

"Someone you like, hopefully."

I fall silent. I mull my friend's words for a moment. "I am not a bitter person. I won't become the one who holds grudges and counts the wrongs inflicted on him. I don't want to. I don't know how to. I know it'd be incredibly unfulfilling."

"Then don't be this person."

"Do you truly believe it's that easy?"

"I know I truly believe in you."

My eyes water. I blink furiously. Of course, he'd say that. I smile. "I'm not sure how I was functioning without you."

Kurama huffs a laugh. "Not very well but as best as you could."

I exhale quietly. I'm at peace, I realize. The clashing emotions raging within my core have left, like lead clouds after the storm. "I'm not sure I solved anything but I feel better."

"Maybe you don't have to solve anything right now? Even by your standards, you're young, Naruto. You've experienced a lot but wisdom isn't easily attained. And I know you have no love for my father but I think he is right in this case. You have an entire lifetime to choose among the dreams you inherited and pursue one or all of them. You have an entire lifetime to meet new people. You have an entire lifetime to solve your problems."

I exhale once more. Slowly, I straighten to my feet and stretch. My frame uncoils and pops wonderfully.

"You're right. I'll take this lifetime and live it to the fullest then."

"I've no doubt about it. Now, don't forget that you're supposed to meet with your aunt tonight."

I look up at the dwindling sun and the shadows falling on the forest. "Aw, crap!"

AN: This chapter absolutely kicked my ass. I know it won't satisfy many of you, it doesn't satisfy me either but it was either a "publish" or "let it die" in this case. The central quality of Naruto, as any hero, is his magnanimity. How could an author fundamentally question it without putting his entire character in jeopardy? I have no interest in ripping him off his own skin.

"But he forgives too easily! This character/that character doesn't deserve his forgiveness!" Already, by making him resent Tsunade, Kakashi, Minato or Tomiko, I'm veering wildly off the original road. Indeed, Yami Naruto only resents the villagers! Naruto never questions the individuals he holds affection for. The objective here was precisely to explore that without betraying the character.

"I get that he forgives but there are no consequences for the individuals!" The problem is, Naruto gives his entire heart at once when he is shown even a shred of affection. I could write about a Naruto cutting off the entirety of Konoha, Tsunade, Kakashi and Tomiko but that would completely ignore the fact that doing so would hurt him emotionally.

Add to it that Kishimoto clearly didn't give a shit anymore at some point and it's like running through a brick wall.