Date written: 09/08/10 – 21/08/10

Posted on FanFiction: 22/08/10

A/N: We've all seen Mizuki being the instigator of the secret revealing thing. I mean, in most of the fanfics I've read it has been Mizuki who takes the role of telling Naruto the Kyuubi is inside him (regardless if he already knew or not). So I take that simple concept, twisted it, and tossed it onto the canvas. It's not art to be ogled, that's for sure, but it definitely produces enough impact to fire the story up.

At least that's what I hope.

- CHAPTER 6 -

Deep Secrets Were Meant To Be Told

"Naruto?" Naruto asked.

"Junko," Rambo replied.

"Inoichi?"

"Daiki."

"Hmm . . . Kakashi-sensei?"

"Kazuhiko-sensei."

"Sakura-chan?"

"Chie-chan."

"Sasuke?"

"Yuri."

Naruto snorted. It sounded too ironic. He thought of someone else, and asked, "Kushina?"

"Emi."

"Minato?"

"Toshiyuki."

"Tsunade-baa-chan?"

"Masako-baa-chan."

"Rambo?"

"I think it's Sylvester Stallone."

"Who the heck is that?"

"Oh, you mean me," Rambo said. "Well, none; I don't have a seiyu."

"A sei-what? Have you been eating the carpet again?"

"Never mind. Are you through asking twenty questions? Coz this is getting really old, really fast."

"I was just wondering why you have different names for everyone."

"Not everyone, mind you," Rambo explained. "Just to certain individuals. Specifically to those whom you've met in your reality."

"What do my acquaintances have anything to do with your name-changing preference?"

"Nothing at all. It's just coincidence, I guess."

"I swear some deity is out to get me." Naruto sighed. "First, my suicide attempt ended up botched and I got stuck inside a five-year-old kid's head, and then I'm left with no one for a companion except for a talking sheep that's definitely off his rocker."

"That's kind of insulting, you know, coming from you of all people."

Naruto could only grunt in his response.

"What? Not gonna make any witty comebacks?"

"No, though I do have three in mind. But continuing this talk with you would be more troublesome than its worth."

"Heh, now you're sounding more like Shoutaro."

Naruto guessed that Rambo was referring to Shikamaru. He was the only guy he knew who often added the word 'troublesome' when he talked. With nothing left to say to each other, he moved to one of the pictures hanging in the corridor. They were on the eighteenth floor of the Recollection Building, as Rambo nicely termed it, and Naruto was merely taking a stroll down memory lane, literally. After he had pushed Inoichi out of the mindscape and reinforced the seals double-caging the fox, he realized that he had nothing left to do until something monumental in the outside world transpires. And Naruto was not one to sit idly around and wait for long periods of time. He did enough of that a day after the Yamanaka invasion. Revisiting old memories, both good and bad, seemed like a good idea while waiting for something to happen so he decided to give it a try.

The days of his early teen years were moved for later visitation. He wanted to watch something much more recent, a memory that he often recalled to get his mind off whenever he was down in the dumps. It lit a fire in his soul for it was in that memory that he shared his first intimate moment with a woman. It was chaste and seemed almost platonic, but to Naruto, his first kiss (Sasuke doesn't count!) was a very big deal, seeing that it came from the woman he had his eyes on for years.

Naruto stared at the animated picture, the scenery painted dark blue of night, the stars shining, bright, scattered, and mystifying. The sight of Konoha below brought a pang in his heart. Ever since Pain's invasion, Konoha had not been able to come back to its former glory. The subsequent war occurred too soon for the village to recuperate properly, and Tsunade had been forced to cut down the construction funds to refuel the depleting reserves of the war fund. Requesting help from the Fire Lord did little to increase the budget; he had his own problems now that civil war had risen all over the country. Weapon supplies had become scarce and Konoha ninjas were diminishing, both from the shinobi war and the civil war. Konoha was trying to climb a very steep slope, and not even Naruto could be at every warfront to boost morale, kick ass, and take names.

The scenery of this Konoha was like a calm before the storm, because by the very next night, the whole village was torn asunder and then set ablaze. Most of the civilians were evacuated before the enemy battalion reached the village walls, so casualties were minimal. At least that was what Shikamaru kept saying as if he were trying to reassure not just everyone but also himself of that fact. While casualties were deemed minimal, the whole village was still decimated. Completely obliterated. Like the village from which his mother hailed from, Konoha was now nothing more than a memory.

The scenery changed and Naruto stared at how happiness played a role in the night before everything in his life had gone to Hell. From an overhead view of the village at night to a zooming view of the Hokage Monument. There was Sakura and there was himself, both sitting down on top of the Fourth's statue head, gazing at the stars and Konoha's nightlife. Conversations were scarce; they were content to be with each other. It might sound cliché but Naruto really didn't know who initiated the first move before their faces were but inches away from each other. He could still feel Sakura's hot breath caressing his cheeks as she looked up towards his eyes, jade green to cerulean blue. Lips locked, they were lost to the world for seconds, minutes, hours, he was never sure. Both he and she were lost in the moment, taking into the kiss that cemented their love. A love that was finally free to blossom.

Sakura died four months later.

Naruto turned away from the portrait, pushing the bordering tears back into their ducts. He had done his crying, had finished it, in fact. What good would it do to keep grieving over it?

"Junko!" Rambo yelled at the other side of the corridor, near the staircase leading to the lower floors. He looked frantic, panicky. "We have a problem."

"What now?" Naruto asked, though his stomach made an odd twist, a small sign that his instincts were acting up.

"Aka-Junko's screaming for help."

"Gochisou-sama!"

Old Teuchi offered a small smile towards Kushina as Naruto patted his stomach in gratification. This was the second time Kushina had seen Naruto eat a large serving of ramen all by himself and finished everything, including the broth. Today, Naruto had miso ramen with char siu while she settled for her favorite, salt ramen. Her son seemed quite eager to start his meal. She didn't plan for them to have lunch at Ichiraku, but with the way Naruto's eyes had lit up when he realized they were close to the ramen stand and how he didn't have an appetite for any other dish than ramen, she relented and let him lead her into the tiny establishment. She wanted Naruto to have a balanced diet, but she also wanted him to eat as much as he could to make up for his malnourished body. So she secretly requested the owner, Teuchi, to whip up Naruto's ordered bowl with some extra vegetables. Her son didn't seem to mind the added ingredients.

That was what the smile Teuchi gave signified. She offered him a smile back, adding a mouthed 'Thank you' to which he nodded at.

"Is my little Aka-chan now full?"

"Mom," Naruto whined, "stop calling me that."

Kushina just showed a mischievous smile and stood up from her stool. She took Naruto's hand, paid their meal, said their thank-yous and goodbyes to Teuchi, and reentered the busy streets of Konoha. The original goal for them being out was grocery shopping and she opted to have their lunch at that new dango stand she had heard about from Anko.

"It tastes the best with mitarashi syrup," was what the seventeen-year-old had informed, but Kushina couldn't be sure if it was actual advice because Anko put mitarashi syrup in every food she ate as if it were the rice in her meals. Well, the dango stand was out of the question, with their stomachs already full of noodles. Better go there some other time.

Kushina fished out the shopping list from her pocket and reread the contents. "Hmm . . . guess we're going to get a bit of everything. Anything you want in particular, Naruto-chan?"

He thought about it. "Chocolate," he answered.

"What kind of chocolate?"

He went back to pondering first. "That chocolate stick thing," he said.

"Pocky?"

He nodded vigorously. "Yeah, yeah, that one!"

"All right."

Another improvement, Kushina thought. Before the incident that almost took her son's life, she would often ask what he wanted when they had their biweekly shopping trip but his answer had always been a shake of the head. Groceries meant food, and Naruto didn't have the kind of appetite he had before the incident. So far, that seemed to be the only side effect from having so much demonic chakra enter his system so rapidly. Kushina wasn't hoping for another good side even after all the bad things that happened to him. Real life just didn't work that way. That was her life philosophy: life will throw whatever the hell it wants to throw at you, be it bad or good, and balance is nothing more than a concept; the whole Yin and Yang thing is meaningless.

Mother and son entered the grocery store hand-in-hand. Kushina always kept Naruto in a tight leash. He had a formidable record of running off whenever she took his eyes off of him. Naruto had a curious mind and sometimes he left it to wander around the world, disregarding the dangers he could face. With half the village hating him for what he held, Kushina had the right to be overprotective. At least until she was certain Naruto could handle himself against whatever the villagers threw at him. She just hoped that both events—Naruto's independence and a bold villager's attack—wouldn't happen too soon.

She grabbed a shopping basket and methodically went through the aisles in ascending number. The best way to shop was to zigzag, browsing through the items in an organized manner, although she already knew where each and every one of the items on her list were without having to sweep through every aisle in the store. Doing so would save time and effort, but what every good shopper knew was that failing to find better products and better deals was comparable to an archeologist conceding from digging deeper before he could strike gold and find a tomb of ancient treasures and riches. Some would say this was exaggerated, but the shoppers knew better and took this seriously. Kushina was on the same boat as these enthusiasts. And throughout the years of browsing every shelf in every store in Konoha, she had attained a better selection of goods while slicing down the total grocery cost by six-hundred ryou. It was a wonder how much stores nowadays were willing to cut prices to attract customers. More to gain for her family, in any case. She'd rather stay in Konoha and take care of her son than take a high-ranking ninja mission just so that she could pay the bills. She was willing to admit that she had become quite frugal for some time, but this was all for her family. Besides, being frugal wasn't a bad thing just as long as she still got to enjoy the simple things. From time to time, anyway.

Browsing through the items in aisle four, she saw the shelf housing Pocky and its many varying flavors. There was the traditional chocolate Pocky on the top row, the row below that had chocolate coating with almonds, and another row down housed strawberry-flavored Pocky. She asked Naruto which kind of Pocky he wanted, and he pointed at one of the red boxes. He wanted pure chocolate-coated biscuits without additions, it seemed. She took one off the shelf, put it in the basket, pondered for a little bit, and then took another box.

"Uzumaki-san?"

Kushina recognized that voice and didn't seem surprised she'd see him here in this aisle. "Hey, Itachi-kun."

Itachi Uchiha stood next to her, dressed in civilian clothes and carrying a bag half-filled with Pocky by his left forearm. In his left hand, he was holding an opened box of strawberry-flavored Pocky, with one of those sticks already halfway in his mouth. Being ten years old, he was a little tall for his age but no one seemed to comment on it. Kushina had last seen Itachi around three weeks ago when he had recently accepted a B-rank mission as a chuunin team leader.

Now there was a strange relationship that had boomed between very different individuals. The stoicism of the once so serious Uchiha prodigy had been subdued when he officially met Kushina about six years ago. It didn't go as smoothly as one would think—with such contrast between the two, like night and day, clashes were often inevitable—but somehow a friendship was forged. Kushina now missed the times when Itachi would call her 'Kushina-nee-san' until he had graduated the Ninja Academy at seven, barely three years after their first meeting. Their relationship hadn't strained too far, but their closeness wasn't as profound as it used to be. She believed it was just Itachi growing up, wanting to meet new people and experience new things in the world while he still had a chance to. With their lethal profession, it was wise to enjoy life's precious moments as if they wouldn't be able to do it tomorrow.

"Ran out of Pocky, I see," Kushina said, her lips curving into a lopsided smile.

"Not my fault." Itachi shrugged. "Shisui ate the last box I've been saving for when I get back."

"I hope you didn't beat him up too bad this time."

"I've gotten the jump on him that time. He wasn't about to fall for the same trick twice. He hauled ass before I could even blink and accuse him."

"Language," Kushina scolded.

"Says the woman who cursed up a storm in front of an innocent five-year-old," Itachi deadpanned.

She scratched her nape sheepishly. She had been very temperamental during her third trimester. "I can't believe you still remember that."

"It was a lasting impression. You don't know how much trouble I've given Mother for following your example."

She snorted, remembering how Mikoto gave her a tearing lecture for saying such indecent things in the presence of a child's ears. The worst part of the whole thing was that Minato had sided with Mikoto on this one. She didn't speak to either for two days before finally relenting and apologizing and saying that they were right and she was wrong. The usual routine. It made Kushina wonder how many times Minato or Mikoto or sometimes both had scolded her about something so trivial.

"By the way, is there any news about Mizuki?" Itachi asked. "I've only heard about what happened after I got back this morning."

Kushina shook her head. "Nothing yet, though your clansmen in the police force investigated the double murder in the Ninja Academy a week ago and linked it to Mizuki. He won't be charged with attempted murder now."

Itachi nodded. "I see. What about Naruto-kun? How's his recovery?"

"Naruto-chan's just fine, Itachi-kun. He—"

She halted her speech; Naruto was not here.

"Uzumaki-san?"

She groaned. "Aw, that kid. How many times do I have to tell him not to wander off like that?"

"You look more anxious than exasperated," Itachi commented.

"Your point?" she asked rhetorically. She made her way out of the aisle. "Where did he go now?"

"Let's split up. I'll take the left side, you take the right."

"Okay." The store was not as wide and crowded as the market outside, handling only up to twelve aisles that occupied most of the building's space. After she checked the aisles she and Naruto had gone through, she would march straight to the front entrance and ask the cashier if he had seen a redheaded boy walk out of the store. The aisles on her side proved empty in being visited by a little head full of red hair, so Kushina made good with her mental claim and asked the cashier. No sooner did she reach the cashier, Itachi came to her alone. A shake of his head solidified what she already feared.

"Have you seen a little kid with a mop of red hair like mine exit the store?" Kushina asked the cashier.

The cashier was young, male, and a lazy face that seemed to say out loud what his mouth couldn't and wouldn't: 'I wish to be anywhere but here right now.' He turned to her, eyes half-lidded, reminding her of Yoshino Nara's kid when Yoshino took him shopping. "Red hair . . ." He eyed her hair. "Yeah, I think I do remember seeing a little kid walk out of the store. You're his mom?"

"Yes, I am."

"And do you know anyone with white hair?"

Her mind went to Kakashi, but there was someone else that fitted that simple and vague description, and it made her stomach sink as deep as it could go. She leaned closer to the cashier, purposefully invading his personal space. It was a good thing she was wearing a tight-necked shirt or the cashier would've had an eyeful. "Tell me which direction they went off to."

The cashier, slightly annoyed, bobbed his head towards the exit. "Probably went left after they got out."

"Thanks."

He shook his head and offered a grim look. "With the market this busy today, it'd be a miracle if you find him and your kid."

"I'll take my chances," she replied before dropping her shopping basket on the floor and exited the building.

"Uzumaki-san," Itachi called as he stepped out after her. "I'll go and call for the police. Please bring Mizuki alive if you can."

Though he said that, both of them knew what was entailed for Mizuki once she got her hands on the motherfucker.

Still, Kushina couldn't part ways with Itachi without a reply. "I'll try."

She disappeared into the crowd, like an assassin blending into their environment before coming for the kill.

Kamikaze. It was the only word that was close to describing the feeling. It was easy for him to stalk his prey since the market place was filled with people and he just had to keep in his sights the brightest spot of red hair. He had been laying low for a while due to the manhunt, but he knew hiding for too long was futile. The village was under lockdown until he was captured. All of his escape routes were gone. But those didn't really matter. He was content to die, but not until he made sure that the redheaded brat died along with him. He would see to it personally.

Mizuki had originally believed that getting the kid away from his parent would be the most difficult part, but that didn't seem to be the case if what he was seeing was any indication. The brat was like a danger beacon. It had to be a wonder that the Uzumaki widow didn't have gray hair yet.

There was his target, moving farther away from his mother and closer towards the toy aisle. He was a simple-minded child in action, but Mizuki didn't give a damn about that. It was now or never. Making extra sure that no one was looking when he made his move, he initiated the seven handseals needed and casted the genjutsu on the boy. The boy's eyes widened and then dimmed. He was completely under a trance, like the children lulled by the tune of the Pied Piper. He led the Kyuubi vessel out of the store, not noticing the glancing eye of the cashier nearest to the door, and turned left towards the main market. The crowd would make him and the boy practically impossible to detect, and with the brown cloak and hood he had draped over himself after leaving the store, it improved his blending in. For the brat's bright red hair, he put on a tight-fitting cap made of wool. Everything was set.

Inside the main market was a central stage often rented by big shot merchants who were trying to advertise their wares in a more attention-seeking manner than the usual shout outs one would hear inside a busy market. The current merchant standing on top of that large wooden stage was calling out to people, telling them what he repeatedly assured was an authentic weapon created and used by the People Who Came Before. It was L-shaped and slightly rusty, with a circle encasing a part of the inner corner. The merchant kept saying that he had found it inside an airtight container, laid out on a red velvet pillow like the one the weapon was resting on.

Standing at attention, sword sheathed and at his hip, was the one guarding the stage. The stage was rented out rather than used for free; it had been established since that chubby merchant took over this market and owned the majority of the stalls present. Mizuki came close to the guard, whispered something to him, and handed over a big wad of ryou. Corrupt employers usually attract corrupt employees. It was the natural way of the world.

The guard climbed up the stage and asked the busy merchant to get down, saying that his time was up. The merchant at first protested that he had rented the spot for the whole day, but the guard would have none of it and basically threatened to throw him in jail for discriminating an officer of the law. The merchant was ultimately spineless despite the brave front he tried to show, so he had no choice but to pack his things and get off the platform.

Mizuki smiled and nodded at the guard, who then nodded back.

The stage was set, his target under a trance, and the hundreds of people all around him. Men, women, and even the children, some older than the kid, some younger. This was what he was waiting for: a public execution. He wanted to see the true colors, the true faces of the masses, wanted to see if they also see what he sees. A demon in disguise of a five-year-old boy. Yes, yes. This was perfect. The perfect revenge.

He climbed the steps slowly, pushing the boy up and keeping the steady flow of chakra into the genjutsu he placed him in. He took center stage, looked out over the market, and took a deep breath.

This plan was suicidal. This plan would surely bring on his death immediately.

But Mizuki didn't care.

The only thing he cared about now was grasping the moment and the death of Naruto Uzumaki.

"What do we have?"

"Can't tell for sure. Shinichiro—the guy you call Mizuki—placed Aka-Junko in a mild genjutsu that practically makes him a living puppet."

"That's some bad news," Naruto replied. "Got any good news?"

"Yeah, just one."

"What?"

"I have no worse news."

Naruto's eye twitched. "You're really getting on my nerves, Rambo."

"Hey, someone has to be the smartass around here while you go on being serious."

"Wisecracking does not help the situation at all."

"Sure it does," Rambo retorted. "It helps boost morale and gives room for some comic relief. I mean, super tense atmosphere suffocating us all here."

Naruto crossed his arms and eyed the little sheep observantly. "You're nervous, aren't you?"

"Huh?" Rambo kept himself moving. He danced in place, balanced on two hooves, twitched a few times.

"Worried about my counterpart?" He pointed at the screen displaying Aka-Naruto's point of view. He and Mizuki were currently walking through a giant mass of villagers—some of them looked at him a few seconds longer than it normally took to start the glaring, but overall he was basically ignored among the crowd.

"Yeah . . . you could say that."

"How come?"

"Has it ever occurred to you that if Aka-Junko were to die then we'd be dragged to death along with him?"

"Why are you so worried about that? You're an imaginary frie—er, domestic animal . . . thing . . . that talks." He didn't want to sound like a kid. Only kids have imaginary friends. Then again, what he just said sounded lame . . . and childish.

"Oh why thank you for the reminder." The sarcasm was spreading all over his voice. "Then I guess I shouldn't help you help Aka-Junko from his tight spot, eh. Because I'm just an imaginary domestic animal thing that talks!"

"Struck a nerve, didn't I?"

Rambo just looked away, harrumphing.

"This does not look good." He was referring to the situation his counterpart was in. Mizuki had just bribed a guard to push that merchant out of the elevated platform. And now he was dragging Aka-Naruto onto it. That place was too out in the open to be effective for a clean and easy kill. Villagers and ninjas were spread out all over the market; it would be damn right suicidal if Mizuki decided to kill Aka-Naruto there.

"Where did you hear him scream for help?" Naruto questioned. Despite not being able to discern Mizuki's intentions, Aka-Naruto was still in danger. They needed to act quickly.

"In the white room."

"Then he's unconscious on the outside?"

"Not exactly. Right now, Aka-Junko is in a semiconscious state, largely due to the nature of the genjutsu put on him. I'm not proficient in jutsu at all, but I do have common sense. And common sense tells me that the genjutsu is putting a definite strain on his mind."

"What are the chances of the Kyuubi using this to its advantage?"

"Don't ask me. You're the one with the expertise in fuinjutsu (tr. "Seal techniques"). Hell if I know what those extra seals you placed in do."

"Right," he said before moving towards the apartment door. "I'll go and have a talk with the kid."

"Got a plan?"

Naruto halted from turning the doorknob. "Yeah. It's unorthodox and untested, but what the hell." He then shrugged.

"As long as it gives good results."

"Yeah, wish me luck."

He turned the knob and exited the apartment.

"Naruto! Naruto!"

She kept calling his name. No one answered. She asked passers-by if they had seen her son, but most just ignored her. She began to grow desperate. She opened her senses and chakra pathways, hoping to find even the tiniest trail that could lead her to her son. But she had to face the fact that she was not a chakra sensor. The best chakra sensing she could do was less than ten yards, and that was for ninja powerhouses containing as much chakra as a Kage.

She continued her run through the market. Bumping through villagers was inevitable, especially with the speed she was going. It would have been easier to do her search on the rooftops—to hell with the fact that she was wearing a skirt today—but a few members of the police force had that taken care of. Itachi moved faster than she thought.

"Excuse me, sir, but have you seen—"

The man snorted at her, his nose looking as red as a tomato. He took a swig from a small gourd reeking of very potent alcohol. "If y'are lookin' for"—he hiccupped—"your accu'sed brat"—he pointed to his left—"he's the'a."

Reluctant but still wanting to be civilized, Kushina thanked the drunk before rushing to where he had just pointed. The thought of being given wrong information to further decrease the chances of her finding Naruto sooner never crossed her mind. And there really was no need for it. The police on the rooftops had turned their eyes to where she was headed, so she knew it was the right direction.

She came upon a large open market. Well over forty stalls were built in and around the place. The shouts of vendors reached her ears, telling people of the best bargains, the best stuff, the best quality, the best anything. It was utter chaos; the thing she always pictured an open market would be.

No, not a market, she thought. This is more of a bazaar.

And it probably was. She never ventured to these parts, not because she hadn't been here before but because their products were questionable. In regards to price, their standards were stretched to the lowest limit while still gaining some profit out of the trade. In regards to quality, however, this was where the adjective 'questionable' could best describe their products. Some products were easily broken; some products were older than they appear to be; some products were actually fake and when the poor buyers had come back to complain and get it refunded, the stall had already disappeared, moving onto the next place for the next sucker to buy his faulty wares.

Scanning the crowd, she found a majority of them squeezing themselves together at one particular spot. The police were already jumping down from the rooftops to get closer. She ran to that compressed crowd, pushing the people away gently as she made her way through. An "Excuse me" there, a "Pardon me" here. Some gave her reproachful looks, clearly disliking her less-than-gentle attempts of moving them out of her way. Some even shouted at her, though they didn't go into anything physical.

Getting as close as she could get, she saw a grinning man atop the platform. To his right was a kid wearing a hat that covered his hair. She remembered what Naruto had been wearing when they went out, and that kid wore the same orange shirt, blue shorts and sandals.

The man took off the hood he was wearing and addressed the masses. Kushina's eyes narrowed when she spotted the white hair and the baggy eyes.

Mizuki.

"People of Konoha, hear my call," he yelled, like a man announcing someone's crimes before ordering the execution. "I stand before you now to present to you the scourge of our village. For too long we have followed the orders of the Hokage to let this piece of filth live. For too long we have ignored the taint the thing brings us. It has taken human form, the form of a child! Not just any child, but the child of the late Yondaime Hokage!"

Kushina gritted her teeth and pushed through the crowd again. She needed to get closer.

Mizuki pulled off the hat and shoved Naruto forward. "Do you see what I see with my eyes?" he questioned his listeners. "Most of you would say 'a child,' but a lot of us know that it is anything but! The Hokage lied to your children, lied to those who haven't been there that night, to those who haven't seen the horrors plagued by the taint's evil. Yes, my friends, this child here is the symbol of that taint! The taint that killed our beloved Yondaime Hokage.

"The teachers at the Academy say the Yondaime sacrificed his life to kill the Kyuubi no Youko? No! He did not."

"Mizuki, stop!" an Uchiha officer yelled. "Or you'll be executed on the spot."

Mizuki ignored the threat. "The beast cannot be destroyed by mere blades and ninjutsu, for it is an embodiment of foul demonic chakra. So the Yondaime decided to seal the beast away at the cost of his own life. He sealed it away! Inside the belly of this boy!" He pointed at Naruto. "What you must really see is the Kyuubi. The Kyuubi has taken human form. It has—"

Mizuki dodged the kunai aimed for his head and jumped down the stage. Kushina was already on him before he could run. Her eyes looked murderous. She grabbed him by his collar and slammed him onto the stage's wall. He recovered quickly and then kicked her knee.

Her knee buckled from the attack and her grip loosened. Mizuki followed his attack up with a right uppercut and then a left haymaker. Any woman would've gone down immediately, but not Kushina. She balanced her feet, bit the pain coming from her injured knee and face, and headed back to her target, who was grinning like a madman. Despite wearing only civilian clothes, she didn't leave the house unharmed. With a village filled with people holding a grudge to the thing sealed within her son, she'd be stupid not to have weapons on her. Years of shinobi training ingrained into her mind and body shifted the inner workings of her circulatory system, respiratory system, and even her nervous system. Adrenaline pumped into her veins. She warmed up her muscles with subtle passages of chakra—a technique she had learned from Tsunade, so that she didn't have to bother limbering up before heading into a fight. Her right hand gripped the kunai in a reverse position, more than ready to make a sweep and cut that bastard's throat open.

But Mizuki had armed himself with a kunai as well, and he blocked the oncoming strike.

The crowd panicked and gave them a wide berth, but didn't leave. Some were whispering about Naruto's tenant, others were asking if what Mizuki had been true. The frightened little kids embraced their mothers. The ones old enough to remember at least fragments of that tragic night were staring at her son with a face akin to horror, indignation, and probably hatred—the last she couldn't be certain, because the best observation she did at the time was a glance lasting less than a second. Her attention had other priorities and one measly mistake could either mean the bastard's escape or his capture.

The police force present in the area was but a small group of five. Kushina heard the leader ordering two of his subordinates to take crowd control, one should secure the child, while the rest followed him and apprehend the suspect. They acted coordinately enough, but she was fine handling her own against Mizuki. Even though she was a jounin and he a simple chuunin instructor, he seemed to be going toe-to-toe with her and also seemed to be holding back. It annoyed her that another chauvinist was looking down on kunoichi, but she didn't see a tactical advantage in holding back. The three-man team was already attempting to box him in. The smart thing to do would be to end the fight quick and hightail it out of there, hoping that the crowded market could help his escape and that there weren't any chakra sensors among the gathered ninjas.

Mizuki did neither. What was he to gain from this?

"He's tagged! Tagged!" the shinobi tasked to check on Naruto yelled. Placed on the back of her son, the explosive tag was fluttering along the gathering wind.

Mizuki formed a one-handed seal, the Tiger seal. Used mainly for seal activations and genjutsu releases. And in a moment of boldness, he leered at Kushina, and whispered, "Boom."

The stage where the shinobi and Naruto were on had exploded into a dazzling dispersion of fire, wood, and the smell of burning flesh.

Chapter Afterword:

Keep in mind, Naruto and Aka-Naruto are different in subtle ways. One of those subtleties includes love interest. First loves, anyway. I already have someone in mind for Aka-Naruto's first crush in the coming chapters. Just picturing their first meeting scene and its effect on Aka-Naruto for the years to come makes me laugh.

My second famous last words: Does the earlier sentence made any sense to you?

And since I'm feeling generous today, here's my third famous last words: All hail the cliffhanger freak! Okay, hailing is over . . . now kill him!