The silence settled and spread like molasses, seeping around the slumped figures and filling the cracks and corners of the small hospital room. The blinds were drawn, leaving only thin bars of evening sunlight to fall across the somber faces of the three older men in the room and the sleeping child whose bed they surrounded. The small boy's blond hair was matted and streaked in mud-brown blood, still sticky. His face, hands, and chest sported severe burns, raw and grisly. But most important were the three dark stripes that adorned each of his cheeks and the claw-like nails at the ends of his red fingers. Marks of the monster they'd tried to hide.

A decision had to be made. They knew this, and yet the silence lingered in the air. The light slipping through the blinds turned golden, sienna, then finally faded to the grays of night. Minutes passed before the largest of the men stood and flicked on the fluorescent hospital lights. He remained there, his back to the others, hunched shoulders and haunted eyes, looking much older than his 38 years in the harsh white light.

"Jiraiya," called the small, graying man in the voluminous white and red robes, which hung off of his hollowed features. His voice was dusty with age and regret, and yet his dark eyes burned. Jiraiya turned, calloused hand trailing off of the light switch to hang limp at his side, and looked his teacher in the eyes. Hiruzen looked away. The third man moved for the first time, uncrossing his hands in his lap and straightening his back.

"I understand your feelings," he said, brow creased, "my own son is only six himself. Nevertheless, you must do what is best for the village. No matter how hard."

Jiraiya swiveled, fist clenched and eyes narrowed. "Shikaku! You-"

Hiruzen held up a creased brown hand, stopping Jiraiya short. "Enough, Jiraiya." He sighed heavily, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Shikaku is right. We can't ignore what's happened tonight."

Jiraiya's nostrils flared and a slight shimmer of chakra flickered into being around him as he took a step forward. "Naruto is not a threat," he said, voice even, but only barely. "The seal will hold."

"And what proof do you have of that?" Shikaku asked with disdain. "Especially after tonight-" He stopped himself, noting the menacing flicker in Jiraiya's eyes, and re-crossed his hands.

Hiruzen sighed again, looking between his two most trusted advisors and friends. "Jiraiya, you must admit that tonight's events have cast things in a new light. I love Naruto like a grandson, but there is no guarantee that something like this won't happen again."

"And what do you suggest we do?" Jiraiya exploded, chakra rippling across the room. "Will you lock him up? Kill him? Give him to Danzo to be turned into a living weapon? I-"

"It brings me no pleasure," Shikaku cut in. "You know I was close with Minato. I would never want to hurt Naruto. But his condition is unpredictable and dangerous. You, of all people, should know." Shikaku nodded at the bandages around Jiraiya's stomach, which hid a blistering gash. Jiraiya scowled darkly.

"Jiraiya, there is a solution to all this," Hiruzen said, leaning forward in his chair and meeting Jiraiya's glare. "If you took Naruto with you out of the village, he and the village would both be safe."

Jiraiya's glare faltered, replaced with the look of a cornered rabbit. "Sensei, you know I can't-"

"Oh? Can't you, Jiraiya? The boy is itching to be trained. And to be loved. He needs you."

"I can't! I have the spy network! I- I take S-rank missions!" Jiraiya waved his hands in an exaggerated manner, backing slowly away.

"Jiraiya," Hiruzen said flatly, and Jiraiya deflated immediately.

"I'm sorry Sensei. But I just, you know I can't, not yet."

"Very well," said Hiruzen, leaning back in his chair, "but then you will have to accept whatever decision Shikaku and I reach. You've made your choice, and we will make ours."

Jiraiya spluttered, staring in disbelief at his teacher.

Shikaku huffed and slumped back in his chair, his arms falling back over the armrests. "We could take care of the boy, Hokage-sama. In ANBU, I mean. I know Kakashi and Yugao have a soft spot for the kid. We could train him and keep an eye on him, keep him away from the villagers."

Hiruzen smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that. I think that's for the best, Shikaku. I'll leave him to you."

Shikaku bowed his head solemnly. "It is an honor, Hokage-sama."

The silence returned as the three men turned to look at Naruto's limp form, the burns already healing and disappearing. He looked pasty and gaunt in the hospital lighting, hardly alive, and Jiraiya felt his stomach twist.

"I wonder how many scars he would have, if it weren't for that super-healing of his," Jiraiya whispered, rubbing the back of Naruto's hand gently. The other men nodded, looking intently at the boy.

"We'll never know," said Hiruzen, "we can only try and give him a life that will protect him from any more."

Jiraiya felt the bile rising into his throat. He was abandoning his godson, selfishly, horribly, when he was needed most.

"Jiraiya." Hiruzen placed a warm hand on Jiraiya's shoulder, reassuring and steady. "I know you're hurting, we all are. Minato was a dear friend and a great man. But you can't mope forever. Naruto will need you."

Jiraiya nodded, feeling tears well in his eyes. "I'll come back, I promise. Just give me some time."

"Of course, my boy." Hiruzen smiled softly, before moving to switch off the light and exit the room, followed by Shikaku and Jiraiya. The door clicked shut sharply, a seal of protection lighting up as it was activated. Inside the room, Naruto's burns were all but completely healed, leaving no scar, no trace.


Hope you all enjoyed the prologue! Expect bi-weekly updates starting in late August, probably.