Disclaimer: Naruto is the work of mangaka Masashi Kishimoto, Harry Potter is the work of author J.K. Rowling. The author makes no claim to ownership of the aforementioned works and no profit from this fanfiction.

Uchiha Fukurou

Of Memories, Genin and Busty Red Heads

He wandered through the streets alone, always alone. The people, they said nothing to him, did nothing to him but always there were the hissing whispers and they left him, alone, alone, alone… Their lips were always tightly pursed, noses wrinkled as if trying not to breathe in something foul whenever he walked by. Parents gently guided their children away from him. Always he was alone, in the end, always alone.

Early on he learned not to look into their eyes. It was their eyes that spoke, eyes that said to him, "You don't belong here!" They'd then turn up their noses and gaze at him as if they'd stepped in something foul. Or they'd look away as if he would disappear if only they could ignore him to death. He was shunned pure and simple.

He liked orange because it was the sort of in-your-face color that drew the eye just as his shock of unruly blond hair. He did not think too deeply on it, even negative attention was attention. It was better to be reviled than to be ignored. If they were looking at him… so long as they saw him and knew that he existed…even if they hated him for some unfathomable reason…he'd show them! He'd show them all!

One day the boy wandered into a part of the village that he'd never been allowed in before. The Uchi..U…Uchiwa? Anyway, someone killed them all or at least wiped most of them out. Uchiha Sasuke, the boy that he'd see sometimes by the Lake on his way home. He was alone…like him… Did he understand? Did they…did they hate him too?

But he wasn't alone. An older woman with delicate features came for him at school one day. The normally stoic boy latched onto her, blissfully ignoring any jibes from his classmates. He watched from a distance. Watching, yearning, wishing and all the while he was feeling a slow burn that he couldn't explain to himself or at least, he didn't want to give a voice to.

He watched the boy walk away, holding his mother's hand. Somehow… that look on Sasuke's face…Perhaps the boy did understand. He'd have that look too if he ever found his mother waiting for him at the gates. The boy followed the pair into an area of the village that he'd never dared to go to. Would it be the same here as well?

It was… to a lesser degree. He wondered the streets dejected. There was no hatred focused upon him but a certain feeling of being watched persisted. The whispers were quiter and somehow less harsh but they were there. He hid under a short walkway bridging the Naka River pulling his knees to his chest and rested for a moment. He just needed a moment then he'd be fine again. It was okay, he'd show them…

A reedy voice called out to him then, "Hoh? Interesting…nya..."

He startled a bit and looked wildly around himself. He couldn't see the one that had spoken. Spooked, he scurried up the bank and onto the bridge. There was no one there, only a cat. The black cat perked up as he came into view. That was… strange. Most cats balked at being anywhere near him, only the young and the most gregarious of their kind approached him willingly. This one neither fled from him nor approached him.

Instead, it spoke…

"You smell funny…nya…" It purred.

First, his jaw slackened at seeing a talking cat but then its words penetrated his mind, "Wha- I do not smell funny! You take that back!"

The cat was more interested in grooming itself than paying the boy any mind. The boy scowled, being ignored always grated on his nerves, "Hey you bastard! Pay attention!"

Uninterested green eyes glanced up lazily, "What is it Stinky Boy?"

The novelty of talking to the cat was fading fast, proportionate to his growing irritation, "Hey! My name is Uzumaki Naruto, not Stinky!"

The cat tilted its head to one side, "Fishcake?" It said mockingly, "I like fish…"

Naruto gave a strangled shout, midway between a frustrated scream and a yell of anger and charged. The cat adroitly leapt onto his head and then from there it hopped onto the opposite rail of the bridge. Naruto, unbalanced by this action, tripped and fell. He tumbled through the widely spaced decorative bars of the railing and landed head first in the shallow water below.

Later he woke up to find that the cat, Nanashi as he learned it was called, had somehow gotten him out of the river and into the back room of a clothing store. He'd been afraid of getting in trouble with the owner but apparently Nanashi knew some important people; although, he didn't recognize the name of the cat's master. There had been recognition in the store owner's eyes as he looked at Naruto but the man hadn't balked at providing him with a dry set of clothes free of charge. In fact, after that day Naruto did all his shopping in the Uchiha district.

As for Nanashi, it wasn't the last time that he met that stupid cat. Stupid might be a bit harsh though, it did help him master bunshin no jutsu after all…

Though, he wondered if this Fukurou guy would spare him a few ninja cats when he became Hokage...

Kakashi thumbed through a copy of Icha Icha Battle, shamelessly reading it as he walked through the street. The heat of the sun on the back of his neck made him pause though. He looked at the sky, judging the time. With a put upon sigh, he put away the book and ambled toward the training ground he told Team Seven to meet him at. It was time to see what his sensei's son was made of.

If one went by the time Kakashi told them to meet him at the training ground. He arrived five hours late. This of course, was not just a means of procrastination so that he could read more of his adult book collection, every second that he made them wait was a test. To be fair the Kakashi of his youth would probably have failed this version of the bell test hands down. That was intentional; Kakashi quite thought his younger self was a dick, failing as a genin might have been good for him.

His prospective team had a choice. They could either use the time that he gave them to work together, scout the area; and come up with plan, as much as they were able, to succeed in the survival exam. Or, they could just sit there getting bored and angry, each second pressing them further into a psychological corner that would come to a climax when he revealed his little stipulation about the bells. They would either fracture, as had happened to all the other genin teams that he'd had. Or they would come together and fight.

To be truthful, Kakashi was under pressure to pass this team since it held not only the village's jinchūriki but also the heiress of the Hyūga and the first Uchiha to enter Konoha's regular military forces since the massacre, the son of the current clan leader to boot. That meant that he would need a good reason to fail them. He'd give the team two chances. It was more than fate had given Kakashi himself.

As he walked into the clearing, the kage bunshin that he'd positioned to watch his student's dispelled. It seemed like they'd taken the first option of scouting and planning, promising. He set down an alarm clock on top of a training post. It was one of three placed in a line in the clearing for target and taijutsu practice. He also placed two boxed lunches at the foot of each outer post. After setting the alarm for midday, an hour away, he turned to see how his student's were faring.

No fidgeting, save for a little from Naruto, who'd been painted as a spaz by his evaluator Mizuki. A focused look from Hinata whose eyes were deceptively unfocused, the receding veins belied the impression of inattention the girl was giving. Kakashi knew of the girl's kekkai genkai, the Byakugan, to silently activate it while he wasn't looking and likely doing so without hand seals given that her teammates hadn't noticed. It meant this girl was one to watch out for. She at least had some skill or an understanding of subtlety.

As for Sasuke, his broodiness stood alert and light on his feet, he seemed ready to attack or bolt or whatever it was the survival exercise demanded from him. At least that's what his body language seemed to say. The boy looked like a hunting dog that had just caught a scent, eager. Kakashi guessed that it was time to let them loose and see what they did. He pulled two bells from his pocket and began speaking.

Momochi Zabuza had a feeling. He'd had it ever since setting foot in Wave Country. He'd had it ever since the board of directors in charge of Tengu Shipping and Hauling, formerly Gato Industries, contacted him about a job. He was a missing nin and in desperate need of funds to make his dream of liberating his homeland from the tyranny of the Yondaime Mizukage a reality. But he wasn't stupid. Stupid missing ninja didn't live long at all.

He had a feeling. Something was off but he couldn't tell just what. He wasn't stupid but deep thoughts weren't his forte either. He planned ahead but when the time came to act he listened to his instincts above everything else. Haku was trailing him, hidden, while Gōzu and Meizu followed him in the open.

The demon brothers were clad in full shinobi gear down to re-breathers and clawed gauntlets. The workers in the front office that they passed through didn't give them a second glance. That bothered him a little, the demon brothers should have been an intimidating sight to the civilians but they didn't even bat an eye. Zabuza tried sensing them for chakra and found nothing more than the strength of an average non-combatant. They didn't move like ninja either.

The secretary that greeted them was a shinobi though, but that was to be expected. Only an idiot wouldn't hire at least a few guards when having dealings with a missing nin lest they betray him. What was surprising was this kunoichi's chakra was at least equal to his own in strength and quality from what he sensed. It was also worrying. He watched the way she walked as she led them through the warehouse to the back office, the demon brothers did also, unlike Gōzu and Meizu however his wasn't just admiring her ass.

Soundless footsteps…

He surreptitiously loosened the straps on Kubikiribōchō. As the woman passed through the doorway leading to the rear of the building he swung his Dantō at the suspected hunter nin. The blade swooped through the air and effortlessly cut through the wall and doorframe. Not the woman though, no, just the business suit she was wearing. The cut clothes fluttered as they fell to the floor. The busty red head flipped through the air and landed, seated on an armchair, neat as you please.

That is if he didn't manage to gut her. Rushing forward with a yell he swung his weapon in an arc that should have cut through the woman, only to nearly be jerked off of his feet when his sword got stuck on something. The penetrating cold that snuck up his arms revealed that something to be a block of ice that had encased his arms, sword and part of the wall.

Wildly he looked for Haku and found his tool unconscious or dead on a couch next to a green eyed teen. There was an older man standing behind him with a hand outstretched, dewy mist rising from his palm. Zabuza found himself immobilized by the creeping frost, only his head and neck untouched. At this point only his training kept him from panicking. Two dull thuds signaled the demon brother's incapacitation. He was up the proverbial creek without a paddle.

But then certain details began to nag at him. The man that had encased him in ice was a member of the Yuki clan, supposedly hunted into extinction years ago. The red head sparked another memory. His attack on the Mizukage hadn't been the first uprising, only the closest that came to actually succeeding. This woman reminded him of one of the rebel leaders that he had in the past been commissioned to kill as a member of the Seven Swordsmen.

These were rebels… bloodline rebels. Maybe he wasn't going to die today but if they hurt one hair on Haku…

"Momochi Zabuza," The woman who he suspected was Mei Terumī, purred his name seductively, "What a pleasure to meet you." She smiled at him teasingly as she crossed her legs, the action doing interesting things to her anatomy under the tight bodysuit she was wearing.

A man came to stand behind her, Zabuza recognized him as Ao, a former member of the Mist hunter nin squads.

"Terumī-sama you were too easy going," Ao scolded, "Who would lead the rebellion if he'd managed to hit you?"

"Terumī-sama is too easy." Mei twitched, "Who would hit on you?"

"Please consider using a decoy next time. Meeting with such dangerous persons is not suitable for a person of your importance." He finished.

"Please stop acting coy all the time it's not suitable for a person like you." Mei's smile grew a little strained.

"Why in the old-"

"Ao," Mei said with a sweet little smile, "Shut up or I'll kill you."

Zabuza raised a hairless brow.

Chiyome, Mitsuko and Motoko, these were the names of his three daughters by Tsuruko, Mikoto and Miho respectively. Their births and the identity of their father was knowledge kept low-key to the general public. The clan as a whole however, was delirious with joy over the event. They were the first children to be born of the repopulation initiative and given the number of new mothers, not the last. All three had their father's eyes. Expectations were high.

Some of these arranged couplings resulted in actual marriages and other arrangements, polygamous and polyandrous in nature. For Fukurou the result wasn't so much a harem as it was a tacit agreement by all parties to maintain an amicable relationship, the word 'amicable' as being defined by each woman usually involved lots of sex. Fukurou's only stipulation was that he be involved in raising his children. It was a pleasant surprise for Mikoto, Tsuruko and Miho.

Most seventeen, going on eighteen year olds certainly didn't have the mental fortitude for dealing with the messy details of raising a child. As a result the women hadn't expected much of him after their pregnancies were confirmed. Contrary to their expectation, once the babies were born, Fukurou's free time was invested equally in caring for each of his children. He never balked at what it took, down to the very tiring and messy details, even going so far as to use shadow clones to attend to each child and mother. It was touching and had actually been better treatment than Mikoto had gotten from Fugaku during both her previous pregnancies.

Fukurou commanded Root and balanced his responsibilities at home and at work as best he could. The port key waypoints and apparition meant commuting to and from the various bases and his clan home consumed little time, allowing him to spend it with his children. At times though, it became necessary to travel beyond the network leaving him separated from his home for weeks. The mission that he was currently one was one of those times.

Fukurou was standing on the deck of a ship currently en route to the Land of Water. Within the ship's hold waited eight squads of Root shinobi. Momochi Zabuza, his apprentice Haku and the Water Country insurgents had infiltrated the country weeks before. Now it was time for Root to do its part. The Hokage had given approval for the mission to go on with the understanding that he would disavow their actions should they be captured or killed.

Seabirds from nearby deserted islands, mere rocks jutting out from the sea, circled and dove into the waters below. In another few hours, they would be officially crossing into waters patrolled by Kirigakure. They needed to be off the boat by then. The two platoons of ninja were an advanced force to lend aid to the rebels and take on certain targets. Their compensation was certain political concessions and uncontested access to any bloodline user that wished asylum within Konoha, of which there were many, including the entire Yuki Clan Remnant.

Fukurou glanced into the sky, his eyes tracking the birds as they flew by. His sharingan flared active and his head jerked to right, like a raptor seeking prey, never once allowing his target to escape his sight. There was a soft rustling of feathery wings as an albatross settled on the railing of the vessel, unnaturally quiescent in the presence of humans so near to it. Fukurou studied the bird's anatomy closely, his eyes catching details one normally needed a dissection to observe.

Moments later a pair of albatrosses set off from the sailboat. They circled high into the air before turning east, rapidly outstripping the boat on the waters below. One carried a thin metal rod in its beak and headed unerringly for the misty inland of the largest island in the Land of Water. The other sought out one of the deserted islands in the archipelago with sufficient cover and isolation to temporarily house two platoons of Root ninja.

If it all went according to plan, there would be three hundred Root operatives, nearly a quarter of Fukurou's forces deployed in Water country within the year. It was a risky gamble with high rewards and an even higher penalty for failure. One way or another Fukurou was going to leave his mark on the Hidden Mist and perhaps through them, the world. Only time would tell.

AN: More consequences of change, some subtle. Can you spot them all?