I'm still writing this story, I intend to put it out in sections, and I'm halfway done with Part One. I wanted to see people's reactions before posting chapters for part one. I do enjoy feedback since it lets me know if people are interested. Thanks for checking out my CO between HP&Naruto. Story is set at mature for graphic details on torture.


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Minato's breath came out in ragged puffs, hands trembling as he stood up and attempted to organize the shattered pieces of his mind back together. However, it was proving to be a relatively demanding task to accomplish because, unlike when Minato first became a resident of the Underworld, he could no longer ignore the endless darkness and torture.

Cold, kami, it was so cold here.

Minato took another shaky breath, trembling as his mind lingered on the pain and images while fresh tears fell unbidden down his cheeks. This time he'd been ripped apart; his arms were torn off first, then his legs as he screamed in pain and terror, followed by his head. The agony had been unbearable, and his horror had mounted as he watched an illusionary Kushina scream throughout it.

Like so many times before, Minato could no longer accurately count; he was put back together after he was killed and stitched collectively until he was whole and fresh. This was the Underworld's method to break its inhabitants, kill them in ways even Minato wasn't aware existed, then return them to a new pristine state. It was a rather effective way to break an individual's will.

Many years, decades even had passed since he came to the Underworld, and Minato recognized he couldn't simply shove everything into a box and move on. It was breaking him, slowly, but looking at his trembling hands that should resemble that of an adult at the age of twenty-four when he died—now resembled a child's hands, similar to when he'd graduated from the academy. Minato knew it wouldn't be long before he finally ceased to exist.

Taking in more breaths, spoken words came into context, along with the other inhabitant, which had become his constant companion in the Underworld—the Kyubi no Yoko, or as he came to learn after a few decades passed, Kurama. The biju at first only contributed to his constant deaths within the Underworld. Intern Minato happily returned the experience. But after a few decades passed, they formed an uneasy alliance to survive the torture, since technically they were linked and when Minato finally faded. Kurama, the Yin part of him, at least would follow him into oblivion. However, after more decades passed, a tentative friendship formed between them, and now the once enemies were staunch allies. At least, according to Kurama, so he could survive this hell since he refused to be wiped from existence.

For these reasons, Minato fought to endure the torture since he had no desire to stop existing or see that state visited upon Kurama, who'd become so intertwined with his existence in this land of perpetual misery and torture. Some minutes or, more accurately, hours passed before Minato could focus on more than the lingering panic he felt after a death and one of the Underworld's explicit visions.

Not far off, he could see Kurama watching him through red-slitted eyes that showed little as he studied him. "You've regained yourself; about bloody time Yondaime." Kurama flicked his tails in annoyance, "With how you were going on, I thought we'd be here for hours." Although Kurama's tone dripped with derision, a softness flashed across his fury features. Those looks were becoming more commonplace from his friend as his mental state became more broken and damaged. So for Kurama's sake and to maintain his dignity, Minato regathered his tattered willpower and stepped forward, stopping beside the biju.

"Please, let's keep moving," the words were soft but firm. Because moving seemed to slacken the torment, or that's what Minato told himself, since he didn't know what set the time limit for each session he experienced. Sometimes what seemed like months passed before another session was visited upon him. However, at other times seconds passed before it started again. Nothing was set in the Underworld, nor did he expect a pattern to align in his remaining time. It was merely another method to break his spirit.

Kurama's tails flicked once more, remaining quiet as he began moving; Minato took another breath before following the biju. Forcing his mind to adjust, one foot before the other. Kushina, the one from his memories; Naruto, his baby boy, Jiraiya-sensei, his beloved mentor. His student's faces flashed across his mind, and Minato found the steps easier.

'Keep moving, don't let yourself break.'


Time passed, or what seemed like time continued onward; Minato could never accurately describe the Underworld or how it operated. It simply was his prison, but the area began to shift. For a moment Minato wondered if this was just another illusion proceeding the typical torture. However, even as Kurama straightened, individuals began to form.

After moments of scrutiny, Minato could tell they were not illusions, nor the Underworld's few jailers, those resembling the Shinigami that initially swallowed him. However, when their visages cleared, Kurama stiffened; his features displayed confusion. Minato readied himself for anything and observed their visitors cautiously because two of them resembled the descriptions Kurama had given for his father, Otsutsuki Hagoromo the progenitor of chakra, and Otsutsuki Hamura, founder of the Hyugan Clan. Both held the same pale skin, similar features, and horned appendages centered upon their foreheads, with their most significant difference being their eyes. Lord Hagoromo held three eyes that were ringed; two were purple, while the one upon his forehead was red, resembling the sharingan. Lord Hamura's eyes exhibited a blueish and white glow that was rather beautiful.

Both men had shifted their focus from him to Kurama, whose features had shifted from confusion to rage and love. Each emotion warred for dominance across the biju's features, appearing and disappearing as the biju glared at his father.

Looking at the other individual, her appearance could best be described as unearthly due to its beauty and otherworldly attributes. She had long silver, white, blond-white hair that never remained one shade, while her skin tone shifted from gold to copper in the dim lighting. Her gown was a strapless piece that flowed around her flawless form and, like her hair and skin tone, shifted from white to silver, never remaining constant. Only her eyes persisted with the unfailing color of black. No pupil, just blackness that held something beyond Minato's mental ability to grasp.

When those dark pupiless eyes rounded on him, Minato faltered, his mind losing its cohesiveness as a weight, not physical but tangible, nonetheless settled upon him. Engulfing, devouring, to the point that when Minato sank to his knees, paralyzed, his mind offhandedly confirmed this wasn't an illusion.

Perhaps another death?

Because she may appear different, but the lady's presence resonated with the Shinigamis that haunted the Underworld and carried out its punishments. Minato was sure it would be worse this time just by her sheer pressure alone. When the being retracted her overwhelming aura. Minato took a few breaths regulating his mind until he regained his senses, feeling reassured as Kurama moved closer, shifting to cover his weak points.

He took more deep breaths and stood up, letting none of his present weakness show as he smiled with a pathetic attempt at poise. Something, which had come so naturally to him before the Underworld, he raised his chin with the pride of a Hokage before refocusing on the being. Not a woman, he reminded himself firmly, "Minato."

At Lord Hagoromo's voice, Kurama began growling, looking ready to attack everyone, even his father. Minato recognized this attitude stemmed from the biju's conflicting feelings regarding Lord Hagoromo. There was no doubt in Minato's mind Kurama loved his father, except after so many years had passed and being exposed to the worst aspects of humanity. Kurama had also begun to hate his father. Forcing his gaze away from the Sage of Six Paths and allowing his friend to imitate privacy as he glared at everyone, Minato focused on the being with black pupiless eyes.

She seemed pleased by his actions and clapped her hands as she gestured for them to move closer. "Minato I've taken you and Kurama from the Underworld for a proposal," her melodious voice echoed around the room, beautiful yet eerie with a degree of innate power, much like her appearance and aura. He nodded slowly but with respect while Kurama tensed. "My name is Izanami; I am the overseer of death, and I believe Hagoromo's problem coincided with an issue that needs correcting."

Minato turned his attention to Hagoromo, who nodded to Izanami's words, his expression impassive. Yet he could see disquiet in those ringed eyes, which had focused on him. Inwardly his mind began pulling at everything as he logically tried to find a reasonable conclusion and explanation. However, nothing came to mind, and he grimaced at the lack of answers before refocusing on Izanami.

A smile played across her full lips before she nodded, "Before I explain, let's bring in another who has decided to aid you with this, Minato." Other, who?

At her words, another individual stepped forward that Minato hadn't noticed, and he felt his heart stutter. Tears unconsciously fell from his eyes as Kushina came fully into view. Mental pain ate at his mind as he gazed upon his beloved, who looked at him with love and found exasperation. Once again, he questioned if this was nothing but an illusion.

Because so many of the underworld's illusions on his fracturing mind showcased Kushina, he began to doubt his sanity could be trusted regarding his wife's visage. Then Kushina tsked before moving to him, her gaze holding tenderness and understanding as she gazed at him. "Dork," Minato froze when Kushina spoke before she stepped closer, leaning down until they were at an even height, and enveloped him in a hug. Arms tightened around his shaking frame, "It's me, dork, I promise."

So familiar and missed that he remained frozen, but as the feel of her chakra slid against his own, twining in a familiar dance as their hearts began to skip in tune with one another. Minato finally returned the gesture feeling himself break as he recognized the truth, this was Kushina. Truly understanding that the torment he'd endured in the Underworld was over. Minato buried his head in Kushina's beautiful red hair letting go as he held the woman he loved with his entire being and wept. She said nothing, merely supporting him as he broke down and reassuring him as she'd always done.

For moments or hours, nothing was said as the two reconnected. Their love and reintroduction made the others give the pair time, for soon enough, their lives would be altered.


Godric's Hollow, October 1981

James wasn't an idiot, despite Sirius's insertion to that being his general disposition. He recognized that he was royally screwed. Wandless and suffering from the aftereffects of the cruciatus and cutting curses, luck nor skill would save him from Voldemort this time. Yet despite the expectancy of living beyond the hour. James would not give up; he would never falter in his dedication to defend those he cherished. All that mattered was giving Lily those few extra moments to use the portkey or his invisibility cloak.

Just as he was about to mouth off another snarky comment that would hopefully keep Voldemort's attention on him, that face which had ceased to be human and looked more akin to a demented reptile, smiled with smug satisfaction; it was not pleasant. "Oh, James, my dear boy, you choose your loyalties poorly. Avada kedavra!" Though he moved to dodge the curse, James acknowledged with certainty that he couldn't evade it this time. His typical speed was absent after the blood loss and undergoing multiple bouts of the cruciatus under Voldemort's sadistic care. As that green light sped towards him with agonizing slowness and the world seemed to shrink onto himself and that horrid light while Voldemort's terrible laughter echoed in the background.

James's thoughts flashed to his family, his mum and dad, always there with a hug or soft word; their support and features were precious memories. His best friends, the brothers he chose, Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail, he never could have asked for better friends or brothers. Harry, his little mischief maker, and precious son, who he loved with all his heart since he came into the world. Then there was Lily. He'd always loved her, even when he wasn't aware of what that emotional response entailed. James knew instinctively she would forever hold his heart. These insights made him understand that he felt no regret for what was about to occur. Lily and Harry should have made it to safety by now; with this reassurance, he squarely faced his oncoming death with no fear.

'You Dumbass.'

"What…?"

The world surrounding him vanished; pure darkness that was horridly cold surrounded him in a never-ending vista of blackness. This darkness felt oddly familiar, and somehow it was more terrifying than his oncoming death. However, that's when he spotted… a dog?

It was enormous and had orange-red fur with nine tails waving about its form as red-slitted eyes looked upon him with agitation and annoyance before softening…? "This is pathetic even for you, Yondaime." The creature spoke with contempt, but James's mind had snapped to one word, Yondaime. What did it mean, and why was it-?

Blinding pain, worse than the cruciatus curse, slapped against his psyche, making him double over in agony. James flippantly wondered if this is what it felt like when you died, and before he could focus on anything, images began to pour through his mind, tearing it to pieces.


I may change around tags or even the title when I continue this.