Chapter 4: Arrival

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Kishimoto-sensei in any way and form, and I do not own the few Latin quotes that will pop out here and there. I however own the plot and the Ocs, as well as the description of some places and the characterization of some less-known characters in the original anime/manga.

Updated: February 27 - I somehow went from the original 2000 and some words to 7500 in a day and a half... without changing the plot at all, just shifted around the organisation and yeah. I just. *cry in a corner*

Sorry it took soooo long, but I was in the middle of a hectic month of never ending loops of exam-assignment-presentation-exam, so, yeah...

I'll try to get to the fifth chapter real soon! The newest chapter is also halfway done :)

-Konoha General Hospital

It was awfully silent.

The Konoha General Hospital, with it's tall stature and white walls, was an oddity in its brightly-colored village. The halls smelled of chemicals and spare rooms were few and far in-between; but it has always been and still is, despite its severe lack of competent medic-nins, a peaceful haven where patients could rest undisturbed.

Yet today that calm was brutally brushed away as the sound of wheels scraping against the floor echoed in the corridors, followed by distressed screams and the chaotic clacking of heels.

A room was quickly emptied for immediate use as two beds were wheeled across the first floor, doctors and nurses rushing to the aid of those already present. Soon enough the loud bang of doors being closed shut was heard in the hospital wing, and the maelstrom of panicked actions migrated into the room. Few nurses still ran in the corridors, buckets of hot water and piles of clean towels in hand; but they too were sucked into the room, leaving behind only the ghosts of their white blouses.

The hospital was calm again.

However, in that particular operation room, everyone was in a frenzy; towels, water and bandages, both clean and bloodied, were passed around the room. Medic-nins struggled to treat the wounds as the others made room for them. The black-haired patient seemed at least to be stable, having already received first-aid treatment on the field as proved by the quickly bloodying bandages wrapped around her body. However the same couldn't be said for her comrade, who was immediately hooked to various machines monitoring her faint heartbeat. As nurses worked around the raven to clean her wounds, swarms of medic-nins crowded the other half of the room, unknowingly hindering each-other's movements as they all tried to take care of the patient.

Suddenly the doors burst open with a loud clank and a loud, angered voice called out.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Golden eyes scanned the room critically before a frown sketched itself on the woman's features. "What are you all doing here? Get out! You're just wasting time!"

The chaotic movements halted at her call, and the nurses hesitated, looking at each others, trying to decide whom will leave first, all unwilling to test the woman's patience yet too afraid to walk anywhere near her.

"What are you waiting for? I said out! Anyone who isn't a medic-nin, leave this instant!" She seethed, on the brink of unleashing her fury upon her subordinates. Frightened, they scrambled around for a bit before running for the exit. The room was instantly cleared except for a few. The woman huffed in annoyance before closing the door behind her, walking closer to the closest medic-nin and picking up a bucket of water and a towel, left behind on the floor.

"Misaki, current conditions?"

"H-hai! Let's see, the black-haired one is confirmed to have about four fractured ribs that have punctured her left lung. Both her arms seem to have been broken and a wound has clearly cut through her right biceps. We also suspect a concussion. Her internal bleeding, at least, has been reduced to minimal quantities."

The woman winced, her golden eyes inspecting the patient on the other side of the room, which was filled with much more equipment and smelled strongly of fresh blood. "And the other one?"

Misaki shifted uncomfortably, guilt and fear in her eyes as she glanced warily at her leader. A heavy sigh left the woman as she realized what the strange emotions stood for.

"Nevermind. I'll take care of her. You guys!" She called to the other occupants of the room, "Take care of Black. We'll call her that for the moment. I'll handle the other. Misaki! Come with me," she ordered as she dumped her load in Misaki's frail arms.

She walked a few steps before noticing the lack of sound behind her. She stomped angrily on the floor with her heel before turning back. "What are you waiting for?! Get to work!"

She was met with silence until a voice squeaked meekly, "Hai, Tsunade-sama!" It turned out to have been Misaki, who was already by her designed patient's bedside and wiping off the dirt and the dried blood to have a better look at her wounds. Tsunade smirked in satisfaction as the medic-nins returned to their frantic activities with the answer.

They would be shut into the room all day. Only the dusty sky of a new morning would lure out the group of medic-nins, with at its head an utterly exhausted but satisfied woman with golden eyes.

'Ohhh... my head hurts...'

Slowly, twin azure colored orbs blinked open.

''This place... my mindscape?''

Green, lush grass caressed the blonde's cheek as it swayed with the wind. The familiar sight coaxed a soft sigh from him as he shifted closer to the soft touch, feeling the grass tangle themselves into his hair and creating a soft cushion. A carpet of lilies and violets laid near, petals fresh with dew; Naruto reveled in the scent, all morning and early summer with a touch of sunlight.

It was a liquor that he could never have enough of.

He placed his hands on the earth, feeling the soft hum of chakra under his fingers. Naruto smiled softly as strands of deep velvety red came to tickle his palms, bold and joyous, always ready to welcome him back. They tangled with his own chakra and, as vines would curl and spiral, flowed up his arms, into his shoulders, down his back and brushing his sides then up again, reinvigorating him. Then they pooled at his navel, almost like the whirlpool at his back, and Naruto, twisting the crimson strings with his own blue ones, smiled at the reminiscent of the pattern that used to be inked deep into his skin, a kind of scar that could never be erased and that he would never want to. The red strands danced mirthfully, coiling around his arms and fingers and pulling ever so slightly. Slowly, with a satisfied groan, Naruto pulled himself up, glowing red strings, invisible to most, unraveling and forming a trail of warm chakra spilled onto the earth.

A soft wind ruffled his hair, all familiarity and a kind of quiet that hadn't came by since the day he no longer was a child, and it was the sole reminder of a bloodied yesterday, a past that no longer exists. Strangely the air carried the scent of burnt leaves yet wasn't choking with heavy smoke, and if only by a little, the world darkened, the previous sheen now covered by rain clouds and rising uneasiness. The red strands now seemed to glow a sinister red closer to rivers of blood than the bright orange-red of autumn forests, and shadows grew from branches here and there, as if thousands of graves have been dug in all but an instant, too numerous to remember yet macabre in a way that one could not forget.

Because over the years Naruto had grown, an old soul in a body of barely twenty springs, and for all that he was strong he was also only a child that had lost all of the little he had asked for and more.

Yet it didn't more than a simple wave of a hand to discard the grey sky and bury the voices of the dead; a small flick of the eyes and the shadows retreated, almost as if scared of the being that ruled over this world. A mindscape was made to reflect one's psychological status, like a mirror that zooms in all of your defects and using the rough edges to create a perfectly smooth picture, full of flaws yet never more beautiful, and by the time Naruto had learned how to patch up such worlds his has already been shattered beyond comprehension. And it was easy then, to move pieces of what has been broken, to pick them up and glue them together to make something even more resistant and beautiful, because it will always be harder to destroy a chipped mirror that's clinging to its pieces than a work of art that's too frail to have known the world.

Naruto ran a clawed hand through his hair, blond tresses and soft spikes catching in the pointed nails and tugging at his scalp. He ran his eyes across the meadow he was in. Weeping willows, scattered here and there, dipped their long branches into the crystalline water of a nearby lake. Its smooth surface was broken by rocks that formed a narrow and irregular path on the water, glowing a faint red, like a taint under the sunlight. At the horizon, a forest composed of a few hundreds conifers covered a mountainside, the dark green thinning and turning into a snowy white as it neared the peak; a valley was at the mountain's feet, but the scenery beyond was shrouded in mist. A small waterfall, flowing from an opening in the rocky side of a hill, created a gentle music, like raindrops on metal, as the water met the surface below.

The blonde, with renewed strength, stood, and closed his eyes. The wind swept past him gently, ruffling his sun-kissed hair, and whispered into his ears a sweet melody. He tilted his head backwards and listened. A split second and the smallest of movements later, he was on the lake, the soles of his feet creating ripples and deflecting the light. But as soon as he landed he was airborne again, graceful in the leap and fluid as he somersaulted once, twice, and his feet touched solid ground again, his skin warm against the freshness of damp rocks.

It didn't have any other meaning that the pure want and excitement of movement and peace, the thrill of the world turning on its head and the fraction of stability as the sky flips around again, and Naruto laughs, light like chiming bells with an undertone of something raspy that hasn't been heard in a long time. Soon he's close enough to the waterfall so that his clothing is damp with mist and his pants are soaking, sticking to him like a second skin but still almost weightless, and uncertainty flickers in his eyes as Naruto stepped into the cave hidden behind. It isn't so much of apprehension as it is the fear of the unknown, like how once your belongings are removed your room appears to be strangely unfamiliar, but Naruto doesn't have the time to hesitate further. Red strands, curled on themselves like thick ropes, shot out of the darkness and dragged him inside.

He was gone too quick to realize that among all the red was a single string of gold.

When he opened again his eyes, it was to the sight of a disgruntled fox too big for the cave to contain without it curling up like a cat. Nine tails tipped with white fanned out behind the gigantic beast, and Naruto had to blink twice at the unfamiliar coloring.

"Brat."

''Kurama. I can see that you are very... comfortable. The color suits you too.''

The Kyubi growled, baring her teeth, dangerous to all that doesn't know her tendency to show more anger than what was really felt, and looked down the the human smaller than a single of her claws.

"Naruto... Do I need to tell you or are you going to what you should?"

The blonde chuckled, almost relieved. "Kurama. It's been a while." The fox's eyes softened imperceptibly, but quickly hid the fondness she'd never admit to feeling.

"Yes, yes. Hurry up brat, we don't have the entire day." She grumbled, and was met with a smile brighter than any suns.

"I'd like to keep you like that for a while, but on the other hand I don't exactly appreciate being made into a pancake should you decide to roll over. So yes, I guess I'll help." With that Naruto gestured toward the walls of the cave and the air shifted, twisted, pulled and suddenly Kurama was met with more space to run than he would have in a forest. With a satisfied growl she stood, tails brushing the ground, and paced around, too dignified to break into a run but unable to contain the urge to stretch her legs. Naruto allowed her to do so, watching contently as the Kyubi flickered in and out of sight, fur glistening red in the dark and a slight bounce to his steps.

Eventually the fox came back, circled around Naruto once and sat down, propping Naruto up between her tails and her soft underbelly. They stayed like that for a few more moments before Kurama broke the silence with a heavy sigh.

"Naruto, do you realize what Amaterasu-neesama did?''

The blonde took a few seconds to reply, a certain amount of confusion in his tone. "About... the, well, time-travel?"

It wasn't much of time-travel than simply erasing a section of the continuum of time, like cutting away part of a fabric and sewing the ends together, but that was something even a great being like Kurama could barely comprehend. For all that the fox was old and knowledgeable the world had only seen a handful of time-travelers, all separated by hundreds of years, and at those times the Kyubi hadn't been interested enough in the mannerisms of humans to witness such impossibly foolish acts.

Even if she had seen she wouldn't have understood any of it, because the Kyubi was a being of nature, of chakra, part of the earth, and for her eternity was a small word. Kurama hadn't understood the urge to live, the will to survive, because it had been something she would never lose, and so never cherish. Killing held no more weight than crushing a few trees along his way, like ants beneath her paws; the need to protect something dear was very much unknown, and so doing something even remotely close to the craziness of time-travel was an idea that had never even crossed her mind.

But now... now, as much as Kurama would hate to admit, she was a bit more than a simple chakra construct, something between biju and human but not quite either of them, because the love she held for the small, frail yet insanely strong human nestled at her side was something she couldn't possibly have for any other, and the hatred she harbored for the Uchiha was beyond what could be controlled by the Gods themselves. Kurama was still the nine tails, a fearful creature of the Gods given form by the Rikudou Sennin, but she was also very much Kurama, a friend that refused to leave Naruto even if there was no seal to restrict her anymore.

Suddenly dying took on an entirely new meaning, because even if Kurama hadn't known the hurt of one's world slowly chipping away she did see it through Naruto's eyes, and that alone had been enough to convince her to keep Naruto alive. But then blonde idiot had been quite persistent on being suicidal in more ways than one, and so Kurama had taken the resolve to follow her only friend everywhere even if it meant a dangerous and most probably insane trip to the past.

Why would such a being of unspeakable power go to such extents for a simple mortal, you ask?

Even Kurama herself didn't know the answer. Perhaps it was Naruto's smiles, his cocky stubbornness, his mile-long hero tendencies, or even his unwavering will that was almost terrifyingly honest, but above all, Naruto was strong; not the beat-you-in-a-pulp kind of strong but a kinder one, hidden away deeper, and Kurama had been hooked ever since the very first day a blonde too small for his age had stormed into their shared mindscape demanding chakra.

"Kurama..." Naruto muttered, head buried into soft fur and fingers tangling curiously into white, "Kurama, what shall I do? I accepted without thinking, but time-travel is a bit..."

The 'what if' was left unspoken but the Kyubi caught it anyway, and was reminded with a fond startle that this was the reason why Naruto was so precious. He was exceedingly headstrong for a human, not out of cruelty but because of weakness, because of his passion for his dear ones, because Naruto was still but a child terrified of failing.

"Kit, it's not as if there was anything to lose. If it works then we get a second chance, if it doesn't then at worst we get stuck between dimensions for all eternity, and as far as I'm concerned taking the chance is still better than being hopelessly dead and stuck in a pile of rotting flesh." Of course they both know that once Naruto dies Kurama could easily reform once again in less than half a century, add or take a few years, but Kurama made her point and Naruto wasn't about to argue on such details.

The blonde let his head rest against the Kyubi's underbelly, rising in unison with each of the nine tails' breath, and stroked the shorter fur there. He took his time contemplating Kurama's answer before a final sigh escaped his lips. "A second chance, huh? I think... I'd like that. For them. For both of us."

Kurama grunted her agreement and rested her head on his front paws.

"We'll have to be careful."

"Yeah, this time around none of them is going to die before they hit fifty with swarms of children laughing at their wrinkled faces." Naruto said in good humor, but a sudden thought crossed his mind and his expression darkened. "But Kurama, what if... I mean, I never asked when we were going to... what if we jump too far back and..." he swallowed, his mouth queerly dry, "What if none of them is born yet? What if the changes we bring will change them forever? Will I... Will I ever see any of them again?"

"I don't know, kit, but as long as we plan it out carefully nothing big should happen. And if they do change, then it'll be for the better. We'll just have to make sure that they become as strong as we knew them to be." The fox brought up a tail to brush away golden bangs from Naruto's eyes. They were completely dry if not a bit misty, but Kurama was willing to allow such a show of weakness if it meant Naruto's sanity will stay safe.

"They might not be the same, and you might never hold the same meaning to them, but they'll be happier. Not the... mess they were after that damn Uchiha was resurrected," Kurama spat out with a healthy amount of disgust and loathing dripping as she mentioned Madara. Naruto thought of those words and was abruptly reminded of memories years old and halfway faded, of old team seven with Kakashi and his exasperatingly lazy attitude, of short-haired Sakura with developing violent tendencies and fiery determination in her eyes, of dark Sasuke who hasn't yet been colored black and red by years of warfare.

Then there was Gai and Lee and their idiosyncrasies, never the same when there was only one left to carry the youthfulness of both, TenTen with her penchant for weapons that turned deadly and a newly reformed Neji who stuck to Hinata like an over-protective brother, who later died by her side still. Team 8 with bright and shy Hinata and Team 10 who worked like a well oiled machine since the very beginning, and the newly crowned Tsunade with Jiraiya by her side, one bruised and grinning like an idiot until the day he didn't come back. Naruto remembered the old lady at the bakery steps away from his apartment building, the breads and the occasional left-over cake she used to bring him when no one was looking, Teuchi and Ayame and the smell of their ramen when ingredients were still easy to come by.

There had been war and losses but they had been happy, keeping each other closer than ever before. It had hurt and stabbed and killed him when Madara had attacked but they've resisted together, fighting day and night and sneaking in moments of peace when time allowed so. They had been weak together, grown stronger together and died together, fining solace wherever they could. Images flashed, of Kakashi and Obito, memories of an innocence and lost love shared between them, of Kotetsu and Izumo and how one wasn't complete without the other, how one shouldn't be allowed to exist alone, of Kurenai and her child and Konohamaru who were the only ones left to remind her of the man she had loved.

Until Madara had taken that away too, wrenching it away from the handful of them left, and Naruto found himself agreeing wholeheartedly with Kurama.

"We'll have to make sure then. That they never, ever become the people we knew." And it didn't hurt, because Naruto would rather not know them than see them suffer as they all had before.

"Now that is good and all, but we won't be able to do anything until we have a grasp on when exactly we were sent to. But for the sake of our safety I strongly hope we do land sometime before your birth. Before all their births."

"...Kurama? You're not telling me something." Because the Kyubi was not one to hope for anything and even less admit to her hopelessness.

"Naruto, do you know the consequences of time-travel?"

"I admit to having researched the matter while researching Hiraishin, but I didn't get far enough to actually learn anything of importance before we burnt down the library." It was a year or so after the war had started. Konoha was barely standing and Madara was nearing, and Tsunade had decided that a bunch of books lost was a small price to pay for running away safely. If they were leaving the knowledge behind, they sure as hell won't be wrapping it up for Madara to find.

"As I thought. Listen closely, brat. Time is something that no human should dabble, as even we biju approach the matter with apprehension. Normally any attempts to jump forward or backward will fail as it is theoretically impossible to leave a marker strong enough to grab onto one's soul and stabilize it within a time that is not its own, not to mention disappearing from a timeline without creating some form of backlash. Now, as it is Amaterasu-neesama who performed the act, we should be able to make the travel fairly easily. However a soul can only exist once in a timeline, so if you were to coexist with a younger you it would be breaking the balance the world has worked so hard on preserving. Following me so far?"

"Yes. The Hiraishin countered that by setting a marker on the user himself so that the preset marker he was being transported to would be able to recognize the emitted signal within a certain distance, and those markers and anchored within a separated space pocket that time does not influence. If would indeed be wiser to send Sasuke and I to a time where we do not yet exist. But that would also erase our markers..."

"I have a theory about that. Amaterasu, as a Goddess, is not bound by time and as such is probably using herself to set the ground for us in the past. It is somewhat the same for us biju, as we are part of this world's essence, so she must have linked me to my past self and used our connection to drag you along. As for the Uchiha..." Kurama explained, pausing to let her words sink in, "He's a direct descendant of the Rikudou Sennin. As much as the sage's blood has thinned over time it should just be about enough so that it would resonate with the other carriers of the blood and allow his soul to make it through safely."

The grip on Kurama's tails tightened as Naruto looked up, alarmed. "Which means that if we don't go back far enough, if the Uchiha massacre has already happened, Sasuke, he..."

Kurama wrenched her tail from the blonde's hands and hissed, "Careful brat! You shouldn't worry about such things. Amaterasu-neesama would have taken it into account." Naruto breath a sigh of relief and sagged into the pile of tails and soft fur.

"What's with the color change anyway? It's kinda weird to see you in anything but red or orange," he asked, stroking questioningly the white tipped members.

"This? Amaterasu-neesama purified me. Said too much hate wasn't good for an immortal being." Now that the mood was less tense Kurama reverted to the relaxed speech she has adopted from Naruto. "It's not as if I'm the only one to change appearances anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't know? Then this is going to be good..."

"Kurama? What is it? Tell me! Is it me? Sasuke?"

"Why should I spoil the surprise? You'll see in an instant, brat."

The blonde wanted to ask the fox what she meant, but with a great flick of her tails Kurama unceremoniously kicked Naruto out of their mindscape. All the blonde caught before the world faded to black was a malicious smile on the vixen's face.

In the cave, the legendary Kyuubi no Yoko grunted something to herself then went back to sleep as she didn't have anything else to do. But her sleep was not peaceful: no, she dreamt of red and orange, of dancing flames and screams under her claws, of flesh that tasted of blank mindless tools and Madara's chakra. She dreamt of death and blood, of darkness and crimson, of the taste of the trill to contribute in a battle she wasn't forced to fight. But most of all, she dreamt of amber eyes far older than her and the smell of home.

It wasn't a secret that the general shinobi population would rather suffer silently than pay a visit to the hospital. That was true even for some of the field medic-nins, and so it shouldn't come as a surprise that Naruto despised hospitals. He hated the overwhelming scent of antiseptics, the overly sterilized walls, and most of all he hated the gloomy mood and the agony on people's faces.

When Naruto was a child, barely able to make ends meet by spending his time in the back alleys of the more tolerant restaurant owners, the hospital had been a place he avoided at all costs. Medic-nins were some of the shinobi who trod closest to the bridge between life and death, always close yet never crossing, and so they had been the firsts to remind Naruto that he was unwanted, a pariah at best, because they've been the firsts and lasts to witness the damages and broken souls the Kyubi had left in his wake. Medic-nins were strong, strong enough to heal others' wounds and bear their weight, but for the same reasons they were also much more vulnerable to their bloody career, always hating, healing, wishing for a world where their skills wouldn't be needed.

Naruto had never excelled academically, but he was by no means stupid. Years of surviving on the streets had given him a good head on his shoulders, a sense of observation surpassing by far any of his peers, and he knew hate when he saw it. He may not have understood, may have found it unreasonable, may have theorized and thought up the worst of scenarios, but he knew that he was not liked, and that living to see the light of another day was easier if he kept away from the crowds.

It just so happened that one day, while escaping from an angry mob on his birthday - it seemed to be a day of grief even though the village was festive - he had stumbled upon an abandoned house by one of the numerous empty fields created by the Kyubi's gargantuan steps, right outside the village's doors. It was a chance encounter, a possibility in million of others, but nonetheless it had turned Naruto's world upside down, given an entire meaning to his existence. Because he had long lost the mob pursuing him, because he was too far away to even hear the hubbub of shouting, and nothing had stopped him from venturing inside despite the oddly lit seals on the doors.

Only years later he would learn that it had been the old Hokage estate, destroyed half a decade ago and never rebuilt by fear of haunting memories, and more than everything it had been his by right because his parents - he almost had believed he didn't have any - had been the previous owners. But what Naruto did know on that day was that somehow he was the only one to enter the house in years, and that the glowing symbols - blood seals, now he knows - gave off a feeling of warmth and recognition. What he had learned on that day, the only things that made sense in his young mind that hasn't learned yet how to read properly, was that somehow, somewhere, people had left things behind for him. A pair of wakizashi that was too big and heavy for his untrained build to bear, scrolls upon scrolls full of symbols and scribbled writing he couldn't read, and letters far too old and damaged for him to decipher.

But Naruto had kept them because he knew that they were his, an ownership he never dared to imagine, and a decade later, with blood on his hands and an army at his reach he would look back and smile, because now the wakisashi were a familiar weight in his grip, Hakuhio and Yomi and the pride of wearing his mother's legacy, and the letters were kept close in a pocket before his heart because they were the love and the tears of his scattered family, the history of an entire clan wiped out in a single day.

The rest was kept in a seal on his wrist, one of the few things he allowed himself to carry beside the burden of saving the world, and Naruto was content, proud even, of Hakuhio and its black and blue hilt with Life carved inside an Uzumaki swirl, of Yomi, all black and red strings covering its name in swirls of golden paint. Later he added to his personal inventory a tri-prolonged kunai, rusted but still dear, a headband of a swirling village years burnt the the ground, and books, tons of them, on sealing and centuries of memories passed down in his newfound family, mixed into them bright-covered novels of questionable content that held much more meaning that they should.

Naruto was a man of his words, full of determination only someone so young could harbor, but he was also a man built by hate and shunning and war and the knowledge of three clans, because for all that they were once numerous he was still the very last of them, of the Senju and the Uzumaki and the Namikaze, and Naruto would be damned if he let all of that go to waste.

But for now Naruto was simply waking up from a long slumber and being promptly assaulted by the mother of headaches.

'Damn Kurama for throwing me out of MY mind...'

It was easy to pretend being asleep like he had done so many times before, paranoia kicking in, but tensing his muscles sent a jolt of pain down his spine. A quick assessment of his conditions revealed that he in fact was bare of all his weapons, and for that he almost jumped up if not the fact that what he was laying on was definitely too soft to be the tree bark he had been accustomed to. The feeling of a bed was strangely alien and too good to be true, and it had been so long since his clothing hadn't stuck to him with drying blood and dirt that he felt naked. His body also felt slightly off, as if his balance has been disturbed, but he passed it up simply being unsteady and tired, or perhaps shaken by the recent events - dying, a dream, Amaterasu, the past, and he asked himself if it wasn't all just an illusion.

Yet it still didn't, couldn't have prepared him to the scent of fresh leaves and summer that drifted from what must be an opened window, all flowers and joy and green covered earth, everything that once made Konoha home.

So he laid there in silence, flabbergasted and a bit confused as to what he should do as the sound of children and mirthful laughter echoed from the hallway. It was something he hadn't heard for years, the young and the old too fragile to have withstood the war, and his heart ached at the reminder of what could have been, what was once upon a time. But pondering will not tell him anything other than the fact that it was Konoha, obviously well before the Fourth Shinobi War, and that the bad smell of antiseptics and the beeping machines he was currently hooked to couldn't indicate anywhere else than the hospital. Which means he was sometime between the end of the Second War up to his birth, during Sarutobi's reign - the Yondaime had been Hokage for only a year, and so wasn't counted as much as Naruto hated to admit - and Naruto had to pause, because his jiji was alive, not the old man he knew but still him, and that was... good, the best, and even if Naruto knew it will hurt to see the unfamiliar look in the Sandaime's gaze he was hardly going to complain.

Naruto was also very much impatient, one of the few traits he kept from his childhood, so he naturally tried to sit up after deciding that no one would be trying to kill him, only to discover that his aching back may just do the job.

He gritted his teeth, almost biting his tongue, refusing to let a pained grunt escape his throat. The sudden soreness wasn't something he wasn't used to and he had lived through much worse, but it was unexpected and he didn't have time to brace himself.

"Finally up, brat?" Someone said, a hint of sarcasm and amusement laced with worry, and the familiarity of it all hit Naruto like a ton of bricks.

A hand in his hair, hidden strength barely kept at bay, and a smile on an ageless face.

"Well done, Naruto."

He suppressed the tears that threatened to fall, a fragility that he usually refused to show, and pried open his eyes, a mix of dread and wistfulness swimming in his heart and pooling on his tongue.

'So she is alive then... I'm really in the past, huh?'

"You certainly was a hassle to deal with. How did you end up like that anyway?" The scraping of chair legs on the floor and heels clacking only confirmed his suspicions, a familiar scent carried by the breeze, and Naruto was floored.

"Not talkative, are you? What about your name?"

And Naruto didn't know what to answer, because he was in the past, alive, and couldn't think of anything more even as a multitude of thoughts passed by his mind. He wanted to answer, to ask, when it was, if everyone was fine, if his father was Hokage yet, to do something, but his lungs were constricted and his throat parched.

Before he could attempt talking a strong arm swooped him up with practiced ease and popped him up with a pillow behind his head, a glass of water shoved in his hands. Naruto was startled, not sure as to how to react, but was interrupted by a sigh.

"Drink. It's not poisoned."

Naruto listened, gulped down the liquid eagerly, throat burning and lungs heaving, and even if he knew he should have been more careful he couldn't care less. Because in a flash of lucidity he thought everything could have been a lie, Madara, a torture that refused to let him die, vengeance for having thwarted the Uchiha's plans, but Madara was dead, gone, forever buried, and it was enough so that Naruto wouldn't regret dying this instant.

"Better?"

"...Yes, thank you." And he had to blink, for he didn't remember his voice being that high-pitched. Distantly he heard Kurama chuckle, and he knew instantly this couldn't be anything good.

''You're welcome. Now, what's your name, dear?" Naruto almost choked, for Tsunade never, ever called anyone that except children, much less him of all people, and wondered for a second if he hadn't been drooped off to a crazy alternative dimension. But as he whipped his head around his eyes met amber, understanding with curious wonder, and it was very much the same eyes as his baa-chan. And in all that he conveniently forgot about the question, so he just dumbly stared back.

A small sigh was heard before Tsunade repeated herself, this time much slower, "Your name. What's your name?"

"Ah, I..."

'What am I supposed to say? She probably already knows I'm at least part Uzumaki by performing a blood test, but chances are it didn't detect my Namikaze genes. If I've already been conceived and my parents already named me and I were to call myself Uzumaki Naruto... But Tsunade is no fool. She'll be checking the shinobi records so I can't give a random unregistered name. Playing the orphan or the illegitimate son would be way too suspicious and I'll risk landing myself in T&I if I'm not on their schedule already. What do I do?'

Naruto knew he would be able to do it. Pretending to be someone else was easy, only repeating what he had done as a child, all fake smiles and exaggerated cheerfulness, but at the same time he knew he was far from being the the best conditions to do it. It was well hidden, and you had to dig deep to find it, but it was there, omnipresent, surging upward at every weakness he showed. Insanity was something he learned to live with, couldn't part with now, and can offer him the perfect opportunity as much as it could blow his cover.

Uzumaki Naruto was more than a name, it was what made Naruto who he was, because it was his title, as Sixth Hokage, as a man who was still alive within the sea of blood and corpses. Because without it he would only be a ball of tightly controlled fury and madness, not quite demonic but surely not human anymore, a maelstrom of loss and love and hate all rolled into one being, hanging by a thread to humanity, and Naruto was not about to let that last piece go now.

He'd been close once, too close, and even now just thinking about it makes him clench his jaw and dig his claws into his palms hard enough to draw blood.

Red. So much red, and lavender and violet and the grey of the sky dripping to the earth, smelling of rain and washed away blood. The cold was seeping through his clothes and it was numb, so numb, even as fire raged around him and inside his chest, blue and red and fury about to explode yet so numb. Kurama was yelling, unintelligible but there and it was a small comfort in the barren lands, a once fertile land near the sea that was now but a destroyed war zone.

Lavender, sweet, sweet lavender but tainted and withering, and Naruto held it to his chest closer still, never close enough, never long enough but still there, a single moment between two eternities, and it was dry and wet with a cough but it was laughter, a smile and Naruto looked down, not fully comprehending yet hearing it all.

"Naruto-kun..."

Hinata.

Hinata.

Hinata.

And, blood. God, so much blood, drenching the both of them and clinging to them even as rain washes it away, and it's cold, too cold, and it was Hinata and blood and she was smiling even as her eyes were closing.

"Hinata! No, no, nonononono this couldn't be-couldn't- happen - no!" The voice was panicked, muffled as if faraway, but he realized that it was his own.

And she only smiled, a pitiful thing compared to what it was before yet the equivalent of ambrosia to him, a balm to his wounds despite the gaping hole in her chest, smiling and almost laughing with her lost eye closed, and Naruto wanted to scream and cry and kill and hold her but she was leaving and he couldn't stop it.

''Naruto-kun... go...back..."

Hinana's voice, still so sweet but no longer shy, strong but weak and it was Hinata, blood and death and Naruto couldn't let go.

''No! I refuse! Hinata, Hinata, Hinata please, we-I need you please pleasepleaseplease I-"

She interrupted him again with a finger at his lips and a cough, smile now a grimace and Naruto stops.

A painful sob wrenched Naruto's throat, and it came out in a fit of cold coughs and trembling.

''Naru-kun... one thing..."

Holding her closer, wanting to tear his heart out for her, anything, but not this. Not this, because he had heard it time and again, last wishes and goodbyes and love confessions but not Hinata, not from her, never, because she's not dying, she shouldn't be, couldn't be.

But it was nonetheless true and Naruto couldn't deny her.

''Naruto-kun, I just... smile? Like you always have..."

Naruto didn't answer. It was a promise and they both knew it, and he hugged her, their bodies fitting into each other like pieces of a broken puzzle, rain falling harshly and digging into their skin like blades of ice. And it was numb, oh so numb, and cold, because it was the rain around them, the corpses on the muddy ground and never, never the body in his arms too cold to be alive.

A broken cry escaped his lips, like something that he couldn't express properly, as the scent of lavender was washed away.

And Naruto swore, before himself, Hinata and Madara and the world, he swore and raged and killed, mad laughter with an undertone of the Kyubi and twin rings that will forever be incomplete at his neck, that he would always be hers and only hers.

"Miss?" The call suddenly brought the Uzumaki out of her reverie, and she was startled, hesitant, but looked out the window at the giant carved heads, three less than the monument in her memories, and she laughed, laughed and laughed, pain and joy and irony, at the edge of insanity but not falling, because she was still the same man who was the Kyubi's jinchurikki and Sixth Hokage, the same man who had been broken too many times to count yet still fixated on saving the world, the same man who had lost the woman he loved and who had too little time to do anything yet lived far too long in his suffering.

She was still the same but no longer because she was now a woman stuck between her non-existent past and an unknown present.

"My name... my name is Uzumaki Naruto."