Prologue

Minato Namikaze took an interest in every single one of his ninja. If he was asked about it, he would smile, bright and wide, and say it was why he became Hokage, to see the progress of each one, to see their strengths and improve their weaknesses. The real reason was similar, but more cynical. To find spies and traitors, the kind of people that would stab him and his village in the back. The motivation behind that, even he could admit, was pride and patriotism. He was too smart, too good to let somebody lie to his face and get away with it. So, whenever he got the chance, he would meet with people, they would talk, and sometimes they would walk out, go home, and never be seen again.

The group he was the most interested in was the group of 'transmigrates', as they had been called, people who claimed to be from another world. Minato thought the idea ridiculous, that a mortal could make a world by accident, and all those brought back to life had been privy to the story. A coincidence too big to make any real sense.

Minato was after all piloted by two things. He would call them smarts and courage, but they would be logic and ego. A small difference but an important one.

His interest is relevant, because it was due to this interest he was due for a meeting, inside his room at the Hokage tower.

Minato Namikaze also liked plans going well, liked making people do things and taking control, so this candidate was a great fit.

Yoro Takai. A tokubestu jonin, barely. He had been chunin for 3 years until a month ago, where he was promoted based on his tracking abilities. He had some sensing capabilities, and built himself around identifying and predicting what his foes would do. He was a good addition to any fast moving squad, and so he was promoted to fill in the small reserve of tracking ninja the Leaf needed after Iwa's explosive core took out most of it, the effects still felt even 4 years later. Sensors avoided the brunt by avoiding the latent explosive chakra, but the inuzuka and aburame? Serious losses, enough to make the once bloodthirsty clans more reserved and equal in political influence as the typically neutral and personally inclined Yamanaka's.

So, he was promoted, without Minato's purview of course. He trusted his ninja to do some work absent of him, though every full jonin is personally promoted. The kid, at 17, has some talent, but pales to a full jonin, and he wouldn't even be compared in tracking to a fresh ANBU recruit, lest he embarrass the Leaf ninja corps with his relative incompetence.

However, Minato monitored many people, and Takai had come up.

After knocking and being granted entrance, Takai entered the room, with a feeling of trepidation. This is the first meeting he has had with the boy, and so Minato expects some fear, yet it is clear they have more than their fair share of things to hide, his sharp blue eyes threatening to pierce whatever veil pulled over to shield their face.

Minato knew one of his greatest political skills was his ability to figure out a person from the barest glance, their posture, their fears, what they don't fear. It allows him to know what they want, what they need, what he can bargain with.

Right now Takai wants nothing else but to leave the room. He isn't just terrified of Minato, but terrified of the meeting. He looks like the sort to overthink. Brown eyes dart around looking at the ceiling, as if he would be able to see the ANBU cloaked in the shadows. A fearful face full with slightly tanned skin, a small amount browner than Minato's own rosy features, placed itself on a body with upright posture, yet muscles coiled as if ready to spring away. As if wanting to jump out of the window, as if that would save him.

They aren't too tall. They are about Minato's height, which means he will probably get a bit taller, the most being 180ish centimetres tall before stopping, And their hair rests lazily of the top of their head, a mop of brown soft strands falling over a well fitted headband.

They look and seem normal, which Minato believes to be an apt assessment.

A normal ninja, which Minato can't trust.

"Takai! Sit please, make yourself comfortable." Minato speaks, sunny smile with closed eyes, a disarming face on the strongest ninja in the room.

"Um, yes sir" Takai spoke, his voice nervous as he placed himself on the decently comfortable seat in front of Minato's desk, the two's heads in line with each other's.

"Your career has been coming along nicely, you got promoted last month."

"Oh, it isn't that impressive, some are jonin at my age, your student Kakashi was jonin at 13, sir."

"Well, don't try to compare yourself to Kakashi, he's always been a prodigy, and jonin are not impressive and valuable because of their age, but because of what they can do. As long as you live up to your potential, you'll be fine."

"Uh, thank you sir. Yes, I'll endeavour to reach my full potential! Definitely."

"Good."

The two sat in silence for a moment, before it was broken by Takai.

"Um, not to offend sir but, why am I here?"

Minato took a moment, smile still on his face, to look at Takai, before he opened his mouth to answer.

"I know what you are."

The smile stayed, though Takai recoiled.

"What are you talking about?"

"You took an unusual interest in the events surrounding the rise and fall of Kumori Dokusei, investigating the changes he caused, the events surrounding his death, around Hanzo's assassination. Normally we wouldn't suspect you for anything really, it was public knowledge and an interesting topic, but the thing is, there are others like you."

Takai didn't say anything, just stared at Minato, a sinking feeling growing in his gut.

"Others who know the story or whatever. The thing is, they are easier to control, easier to use. We convince them to let us train them, to help the leaf, send them on missions. They are a powerful tool, and since they reveal themselves so easily, they aren't that dangerous.

You on the other hand, have gone unnoticed, for years. That is impressive, though maybe it speaks to your ambition, or lack thereof, rather than your skill. It also means I cannot be sure of your loyalty."

Over the course of the conversation, Takai switched from nervousness, to fear, to desperateness, then depressed acceptance. He protested, his face twisting in one last plea.

"I promise you sir, I am loyal. The Leaf is my home, even though it's my second life, I promise."

Minato's smile stayed, yet looked menacing, threatening.

"Well, if you are then I can trust you to do this mission."

A stack of papers hit the desk.

"These are your papers. From the moment you leave that gate, you are a different person. No last name, same first. You will go the town of Takigami, infiltrate it, attempt to figure out if Stone has any spies set up there, and if so, eliminate them.

You will have no support, you will not be able to return to the Leaf until this mission is finished. It will last 3 years, though you can finish earlier if needed."

Minato's smile turned into a line, as he took a final look at Takai.

"Do you accept this mission?"

Then Minato didn't see him after he walked out the office. The ANBU were ordered to escort him, then lead him out the gate, take his equipment for safe keeping, then 1 was meant to monitor him.

All reported back positively. Then Minato wasn't involved.

2 years passed, Minato and Kushina celebrated Naruto's 5th birthday, as he prepared to join the academy. It reminded Minato, like every year he celebrated, of what he was fighting for.

He still had weekly meet ups with Obito, Rin and Kakashi. Sometimes they ate with Naruto and Kushina, and sometimes they tried to beat the shit out of each other, like the ninjas they were.

Kakashi was better, though ANBU was hard.

Then finally, he felt his kunai pulse. It was part of a defensive measure. Whenever a real threat needing the hokage presented himself, he was notified. He summoned his squad, as they fell from the ceiling and formed up together, as all 4 placed a hand on him.

Then he flashed.

And he arrived in a clearing.

His squad separated as Minato stood in front of a squad of patrol ANBU, the biggest holding a man's hands behind his back, the 6 foot tanned man smiling as he looked at Minato.

But that wasn't what caught his attention.

What caught his attention was the town wide fire engulfing the city of Takigami.

"Sir, we called because, of that, but also him. He says he's one of us, that you would be able to verify his identity. We didn't want to take any chances."

Minato took a look at the captive, a hard look, the kind he really only reserves for important people, and he recognised him.

"Survey the perimeter, look for other survivors, reinforcements will be here soon in case this is an attack."

Now back in the office, the two men sat, looking at one another. Minato didn't forget a face. That was usually a curse more than a boon as a man who has killed so many, but it allowed him to know that Takai looked different. He was more confident, lacked the trepidation even though it ought to be warranted. Muscles burst out from a bigger chest than before; clear training went into the building of the man's physique. That smile also seemed genuine, as if he was enjoying Minato's situation.

"First question, are we under attack?"

What came out was a low baritone, well spoken and invoked, aimed at Minato, and addressed perfectly.

"No. If you are wondering about the fire, I did that myself."

"What! What about the innocents you killed? Why would you do such a thing?"

"The entire town was either Iwa plants, allies of Iwa plants, or a minority. I killed most of the spies and set up the fire as a smokescreen to stop pursuit from the enemy."

"Really? I'm meant to believe that Iwa had a grip that strong and you managed to stop them all?"

"I've gotten stronger. And the majority moved in after my entrance, 'gang members' who were really genin and chunin."

Minato looked hard; his face betrayed his anger completely.

"OK, why don't you start from the beginning then. Your initial infiltration, what happened?"

Entrance

Well.

It isn't everyday you get told by the leader of your village to fuck off, and somehow take down a city with minimal intel. I was weaker back then, mind and body, so the entire trip there I was a nervous wreck.

Of course that didn't mean I did nothing, I made an identity, tried to shift my kit from guy who chases people to guy who convinces people to eat his shit and give it five stars, worked out. I already had calluses on my hands, but I was meant to be, in my plan, a tough kid from a neighbouring town who wants to make a name for himself in the criminal underground. So being built went a long way in assuring that image.

Even then I knew there was some monitor on me. I initially though it was a fucking seal or something, but the rational part said an ANBU tag along. I'm not going to lie, I did think of leaving, but that would be suicide, and I'd have nowhere to go. Loyalty is always the best bet, either you die a missing nin or spend the rest of your life on the run.

I honestly was only a tracker nin out of convenience. It was the first thing I was told to do, and the first thing I was good at, so I settled into that role. Escorting people to fights and telling them where to attack seemed like a good job to me, but that was ignoring the sadistic bastards in T&I, their jobs allowing them defences and ease. When you compare cosy cushions and blood letting to fighting in a warzone it is obvious which one is better. But I settled.

My entrance to the city (town, whatever) was one of little fanfare. A thug didn't try to take my teeth, a noble wasn't on the run, it was normal. I got something to eat, and rented a night at the inn.

I awoke, and did simple reconnaissance. I was inexperienced so the information gathered was surface level. Things about the exports, imports, the price of fish. It was very easy to get, and utterly useless. I didn't need it, yet I was spending so much time getting it.

The fear and anxiety in my gut turned to frustration, headaches of day after day of repeat investigations.

Eventually impatient mental states gave way to a form of recklessness. I decided to go into a bar.

The place was low lit and brown, smudges of black barely hiding apparent patrons of the bar. This one was an important one, frequented by lowlifes and thugs.

The plan was simple. Get somebodies attention.

But back then it was nothing but. I feared everything I hadn't met, new things hurt like spice on a new-born's tongue, and competence was even more painful.

I sat down at the counter.

"What are you going to have?"

Again, naivety reared its head, exposing native flaws in the self-made plan. Who the fuck goes into a bar without wanting a drink?

So, I panicked.

"Um, sake?"

I said, or something, point was is that it was a question.

"Is that a question?"

I said no, and asked for the drink again. He, being the nice alcohol dealer he was, complied, handing me a glass of a clear liquid. I sipped, felt the burn go down my throat. Not too unpleasant but not preferable to my inexperienced tongue.

Said tongue then asked more. About thugs, gangs, ect.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. Instinct forced me to move out of the way, and followed me as I countered the fist thrown my way with a well-aimed jab, the knuckles bunched together impacting the burly bald man's chin. He was knocked out in one punch.

I might have been inexperienced, but I was a ninja, and ninja don't get hit by common thugs.

The next hours are a haze really.

'Iron chin Fey' was a regular at both the bar and an underground fighting ring, who had both never bean defeated or knocked down, hence the moniker.

If a high-ranking ninja got knocked out by a random green genin, people would be suspicious, guess a spy or assassin, not a lucky piece of clover thrice leaved compact into a child's small body.

In a bar full of nobodies however, who gives a shit? The most you'd do is cheer and make a toast to the funny fucker who did it.

So we drank, and I lost a few minutes I'll admit.

Fragmented aspects of intoxicated actions punctuated flashes of colour and insanity. There was a reason most ninja abstained from drink, the combination of chakra enhancement and courage enhancement lead to unusual outcomes.

I was pretty sure we somehow ended burning down a house, though that may have just been the excited imagination of a particularly hard hitting drink, spices mixed with liquor and ice, images of fire invoked by sharp flame taste.

The next morning came with a pounding headache and a fuckload of information.

It also came with a knock on the door.

I opened the mostly decrepit exit from the ruined room, and came face to face with a man.

Average height, decently priced clothes, nothing you'd see on a noble but better than the average come-and-go peasant, and shaggy blond hair connecting to a shaggier blond beard.

He introduced himself as Nezu and offered me a job.

He asked me to join his organisation.

And I thought, standing there, that was quick.

A/N: Hello, I am back, and with a new story. This takes place in the same world as Rainfall, but with a focus on different topics and characters. There aren't going to be that many SI's in this story (I don't even know if Takai is going to be the only one yet, but he might be) and it will be the tale of the becoming of a shinobi rather than what rainfall was which was the tale of a shinobi's goal in life, after losing their country.

I decided on the 2nd person perspective most of the story will be based on after thinking about how to believably cheat in a story like this. Have a guy skimp on some of the details, simple. This does by the way mean Takai is a biased narrator. Do not trust what he says, but there ought to be some truth to the story.

Funnily this story makes you, the reader, Minato, so if you want to have more fun during this adventure, imagine being him and trying to figure out Takai's bullshit.

Also, my cynical version of Minato is evidenced by the kind of ninja Minato would have to be to survive. I believe he is a genuinely good person, but he is also a mass murderer and dictator. To make him harmless and flawless is a disservice to him and the position.

Anyway, thanks for reading, remember to review and suggest things, I might add them in just for the fun of it.

Also, I have a discord, use that to harass me and send me death threats if there is an issue with my story, as is the natural and correct response when somebody makes a mistake. Greetanate#5373

14/05/2023

Before writing the last chapter of this story I would like to return to posit a question. If you take nothing from this story, if you quit after reading these notes, at least take this question with you.

Why do ninja fight?

A simple answer is to live, to protect their village, but that isn't enough to explain the drive, the want to live, to become legend.

Ninja fight to prove their strength, but that isn't the real reason.

They want to end a human life. They want to survive and prove they are better, stronger, more special. They want their lives to be worth something, and what nobody realises, not Minato, not Kakashi, not even Naruto, is that in the end, nobody cares. You will be forgotten in you lifetime, unless you are truly legendary, and even then, that's only if you live. Madara and Hashirama mattered, but as legends, not the real people, Madara a cartoon villain, Hashirama a god.

Nobody remembers Indra and Asura.

And so, the only thing that matters, when you are in the depths of blood, hell all around, slactite walls dripping with blood because the cave you are in lets no light in, you deserving no sight to see the monster you have become, is how much you want to kill the other person.

And when you build a pile of corpses so high you can reach the end of the cave, enter the light, and stand in beauty and nature, you are so broken, so bent, all that fills your mind is blood.

Ninja are lost, slaves to blood, revenge and honour and strength all excuses to kill. Composed killers. In that office, there stands two murderers, and they aren't talking about war, about a mission, they are talking about why they even still exist.

Minato will make his son a shinobi, and the cycle will start again, because they don't know, they will never know what it means to stop fighting.

Takai had a chance, but he lost it. Bloodlust took him, because it needed to, and it broke him. And now he needs it.

He no longer fears Minato, because he would welcome death. The only thing that kept him alive was thoughts of the Leaf. And now he stands.

Ninja fight because they have nothing left. That's what I think at least.