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Chapter 5 – Never alone

Naruto's eyes snapped open in the darkness, and his breath hitched in his throat. For the first time in forever, he felt something different in this desolate world – a presence. No, not just one, but two distinct presences. His heart, long accustomed to the slow, heavy beats, began to race, a flicker of hope igniting his spirit. His mind buzzed with thoughts and questions. Who could it be? How could there be others? How was this possible?

For so long he had believed he was the last. Not a single soul had crossed his path for hundreds of thousands of years – not since her. But now… something changed.

Naruto sat up slowly, his skin, weathered and worn from centuries of harsh desert winds and the punishing sun, began to shift. He focused inward, willing his body to change. His skin brightened the deep wrinkles that had etched into his face, and his hands slowly smoothed out. His muscles relaxed, and his joints, stiff from disuse, loosened. His back straightened, his posture regaining the strength and grace of his youth. His transformation continued as his hair began to sprout from his scalp, long blonde locks cascading down to his elbows. His beard, which had once been a long, tangled mass, disappeared entirely, leaving his face clean and smooth. The old, tired man who had sat in the desert for so long was replaced by a youthful figure resembling his proper form.

But there was more work to be done.

Naruto raised his hand and rolled his fingers across his chin, feeling the smoothness of his new skin. He examined himself, looking down at his body, and immediately frowned. He was completely nude, his body exposed to the desert air. No, this wouldn't do. He needed to appear decent, to show that he had some semblance of dignity. After all, he was about to meet real, living people for the first time in eons.

He placed his hand on the ground, feeling the dry sand shift beneath his touch. With a focused thought, the ground began to tremble, and a gnarled tree grew upward from the earth, twisting and turning as its bark stretched and expanded. The bark shifted and churned, and with a gentle motion of his hand, Naruto willed it into the shape of clothing. The tree groaned as it bent to his will, its wood softening and changing into bark skin robes and undergarments. They weren't elaborate, but they would do. He took a deep breath, feeling the fabric of his newly formed robes against his skin. He looked down at himself again, and while the clothing was adequate, something still felt… off. He hadn't looked at his reflection in ages. How did he appear to others now? Did he seem presentable? Would he inspire fear or trust?

A thought struck him, and with a wave of his hand, the sand beneath his feet began to stir. The grains rose in droves, pooling before him as they turned red-hot, liquefying under his command. Soon, the molten sand cooled and hardened, forming a makeshift mirror in the air before him. Naruto stepped forward, gazing into his reflection. The face staring back at him was clean and youthful, but his eyes were dull and lifeless as if the spark of his soul had been extinguished long ago. He forced himself to smile, hoping it would warm his expression, but the smile faltered and quickly disappeared. It looked forced, unnatural, like the smile of someone who had forgotten what happiness felt like. His brows furrowed in frustration. Did he forget how to smile? It seemed so simple, yet here he was, struggling to make himself appear approachable. He tried again, shaping his mouth into what he thought was a friendly grin, but the result was awkward and stiff. He grimaced, feeling particularly silly as he cycled through various expressions – smiling, frowning, raising his eyebrows, squinting his eyes – until he settled on something that felt… passable. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do.

He turned his attention to the rest of his reflection. His arms were thick and muscular, but that wouldn't do. He needed to appear less intimidating, gentler, and more… approachable. He willed his muscles to shrink, his arms slimming down until they were lean and wiry, more fitting for someone who looked like a scholar than a warrior. His hands, still rough and calloused from millennia of training and living in harsh environments, also needed softening. He shook them, willing the hardened skin to fall off like flakes until they resembled the delicate hands of someone who had never known battle. He now looked like a young, effeminate man, perhaps a bit too thin, but someone who wouldn't seem threatening. Someone who could be trusted.

With a final wave of his hand, the glass mirror crumbled into sand, disappearing into the ground as if it had never existed. He stood there momentarily, gazing out at the desert that had been his home for so long, and felt a strange mix of emotions – mainly nervousness, excitement, and a deep, gnawing sense of loneliness that hadn't left him for a very long time.

The presence of these two people, whoever they were, had changed something inside him. It had reignited a spark of hope, something he hadn't felt in so long. But at the same time, he feared what this meeting might bring. Would they accept him? Would they welcome him or see him as some strange person? Would he scare them away with his power? No, no, they would accept him. They had to. He would make them. He shook his head.

His first instinct was to teleport there immediately, to reach out across the earth and place himself in front of whoever it was that had appeared. His energy hummed faintly, ready to bend space and time at his command. He could be there in an instant. But then he hesitated. What if he startled them? What if they were as wary and fearful of him as he was desperate to meet them? The last thing he wanted was to frighten them, to drive them away before he could even say a word. It had been so long since he had interacted with anyone that the thought of approaching another person filled him with anxiety. He needed to be careful. He needed to show restraint. He calculated the distance in his mind. From where he stood, it would take approximately 180 days to reach them if he walked nonstop. Six months of walking through the desert, through whatever remnants of the world lay between them. It was a long journey, but perhaps that was for the best. It would give him time to prepare himself, to think through what he would say and how he would act. It would give them time to sense him, to adjust to the idea that they were not alone in this world.

Naruto's steps were slow at first as he began to move through the desert. He was nervous. The arid air, which had hung over the land like a suffocating blanket for so long, began to change. Thick clouds gathered in the sky, and rain began to fall within moments. At first, it was a gentle drizzle, but it quickly grew into a heavy downpour. The rain soaked through his robes, running in rivulets down his body, washing away the dust and grime that had accumulated over millennia. Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating the sky in brief, brilliant bursts. But Naruto wasn't afraid.

The storm reflected his emotions, a manifestation of the nervousness that had built up inside him. How would he introduce himself? Should he explain who he was, where he had come from, the history of the world before the great silence? Or should he keep things simple, starting with a greeting or a gesture of peace? He had spent so long in isolation that the concept of conversation felt foreign to him. He had forgotten how to speak to others, how to connect with them. The thought filled him with a strange sense of dread and anticipation. What if these people were like him? No… that couldn't be right, they must be new souls. But how? He was alone in the world for so long. No, he couldn't think like that. Maybe he hadn't tried hard enough to search for him. What if they were from beyond Earth? Space people. He didn't expect much, but there was a part of him – buried deep within, that couldn't help but dream.

Dream of the day when he would no longer be alone.

Elsewhere to the East

The portal tore through the air with a crackling hum, its shimmering surface rippling like water disturbed by a stone. Out of the swirling chaos stepped Haname, her movements graceful yet purposeful. Her crimson hair, still billowing as though carried by a wind. She clutched her daughter close to her chest. Kuniumi's body was fragile in her arms, reduced to but a shell of her previous glory. She was frail and broken.

The portal sealed itself behind them, leaving the two on a vast, rolling grass field. The blades of green swayed softly beneath their feet, the sky overhead sparsely populated with wisps of white clouds. Haname's eyes, still glowing faintly from the power she had used in the void, softened as she looked down at Kuniumi. Her daughter had suffered for so long and endured unimaginable pain at the hands of Chaos. She had been deprived of her connection to the earth, her very essence fractured beyond repair. But she was home now.

Haname gently lowered Kuniumi to the ground, setting her on the soft grass. The earth beneath them seemed to stir, almost as if it were aware of the significance of their presence, of what had been lost and what was being restored. Kuniumi's body, skeletal and gaunt, trembled slightly as she lay on the earth. Her skin was pale, her once-lustrous hair now a sickly silver, and her eyes, though open, were dim, as though the light that had once burned so brightly within her had been snuffed out. She crouched beside her, brushing a strand of Kuniumi's silver hair from her gaunt face, her own eyes filled with grief as she looked at the state of her once-powerful child. Kuniumi, the firstborn, the embodiment of the Earth itself, now lay shattered, broken in a way that Haname feared could never be fully healed.

She had wanted to take Kuniumi to Antarctica – the Elemental Plains, the domain that had once been Kuniumi's heart of her power – her core. But that domain had become a reflection of Kuniumi's fractured state. The Elemental Plains, which had once teemed with life and energy, had frozen over, lifeless, a barren wasteland devoid of warmth and vitality. The connection between the Earth and its true progenitor had been severed, and now the land reflected that loss. Kuniumi was not a child of the Earth – she was the Earth. Unlike Gaea – the Primordial that Greeks and Romans of the future worshipped as the 'Earth Mother' – was nothing but a false idol, a replacement created by Chaos to overtake Kuniumi's weakening presence. Gaea was not the Earth, not truly. Like her siblings, she was born to take over various aspects of Kuniumi's domain. To deceive the world into believing that she herself was the source of all life. But Kuniumi – her daughter – was the true Earth. Before her, the world had been nothing but empty space. The earth was Kuniumi's alone, body and soul, and as long as the Earth existed, so too would Kuniumi, no matter how fractured she might be.

Haname placed her forehead gently against Kuniumi's, her eyes closing as she spoke softly in the most ancient of tongues, a language older than time itself. "Iyarith," she whispered, her voice carrying the weight of power. "Aya'nul." In the ancient tongue, Haname was invoking her own essence, the power of time. She was time itself – endless and unstoppable. Time, after all, could heal all wounds, no matter how deep or devastating. Her voice was soft, but it resonated with power. "Ir'jae," she continued her words a soothing balm for the fractured soul of her daughter.

As Haname whispered the ancient words, the effect on Kuniumi was immediate. Her flesh began to bubble and ripple, like something deep within her was fighting to break free. Once dull and lifeless, her eyes suddenly glowed with an intense, golden-white light. Her body convulsed slightly as the ancient magic began to take hold, but Haname held her steady, gently brushing Kuniumi's silver hair away from her face.

The sky above them seemed to brighten, the clouds parting to let the sun shine more fully. The wind picked up, sweeping across the plains, carrying the scent of wildflowers and fresh earth. The ground beneath Kuniumi stirred, as though the very Earth was awakening in response to her presence. Vines began to creep up from the soil, weaving through the grass purposefully. They twisted and coiled around Kuniumi's frail body, wrapping themselves gently around her limbs, her torso, and her neck. They moved tenderly, almost as if they recognized her, almost as if they were welcoming her back. The vines continued to weave together, forming a dress of leaves and flowers, the petals blooming softly against her pale skin. They covered her bare form, but it was more than just clothing; it was life, the Earth itself coming to its progenitor's aid, honouring and nurturing her. The ground responded to her presence, lifting her frail body upward until she stood, her feet planted firmly on the grass. Her connection to the Earth was being re-established, though it was weak – so very weak.

Kuniumi took a deep, shuddering breath, her chest rising and falling as the air filled her lungs. Her skin, a sickly pale green, began to shift in colour, first darkening to a deeper, healthier green before slowly paling, turning a soft peach colour, the colour of life. Once silver and lifeless, her hair blossomed with a crimson hue, the red strands glowing faintly in the sunlight. Her body, once skeletal and gaunt, began to regain its mass, her muscles filling out, her form becoming whole once more. The Earth was doing its part, giving back what it could, restoring Kuniumi's physical form. But it was clear that something was still wrong. As Kuniumi's body returned to its former beauty, there were still signs of the damage that had been done. Parts of her body remained bare, her skin cracked and glowing with fragmented energy. Her chest, in particular, bore a deep, white mark – likely a permanent scar, signifying that there were some things time was not able to heal.

Kuniumi's eyes fluttered open, and she blinked in the bright sunlight. She looked confused and disoriented for a moment, as though she were waking from a long and terrible dream. But then her gaze settled on Haname, and recognition dawned in her eyes. Tears welled up in her violet orbs as she smiled weakly, her voice trembling as she spoke. "Mama," Kuniumi whispered, her voice soft but filled with emotion. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she reached out, her arms trembling as they wrapped around Haname in a weak but desperate embrace. "Mama…"

Haname's own tears flowed freely as she pulled her daughter close, holding her tightly. Her heart ached with the weight of everything that had happened, with the knowledge of the suffering Kuniumi had endured (especially knowing what she was going through but being unable to help her any earlier). She pressed her forehead against her daughter's once more, her tears mingling with the soft rain that had begun to fall from the sky, as if the heavens were weeping for them.

"You're still hurt," Haname said softly, her voice filled with concern. "Your core… it's not whole."

Kuniumi nodded, her expression somber. "I know, Mama," she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of her realization. "I can feel it too. I'm… I'm not whole. I'll never be whole again."

Haname tightened her embrace, pressing her lips against Kuniumi's temple. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I should have been there sooner. I should have protected you…"

Kuniumi shook her head weakly, her arms tightening around her mother. "It's not your fault, Mama," she whispered. "You came for me. That's all that matters. You saved me." Haname closed her eyes, her tears falling more freely as she held Kuniumi close. No amount of time could undo the damage that had been done. She felt guilty of letting this continue. She was guilty.

After what felt like an eternity, Kuniumi pulled back slightly, her golden eyes searching her mother's face. "What happens now?" she asked softly, her voice filled with uncertainty. "I'm… broken, Mama. I'm not the Earth anymore. I don't know what I am."

Haname cupped her daughter's face, her violet eyes soft but fierce. "You're still the Earth," she said firmly. "You will always be the Earth. That can never change."

Kuniumi shook her head, her expression pained. "But I can't feel it anymore. Not the way I used to. I'm… disconnected. Fragmented."

Haname's heart ached at her daughter's words, but she held her gaze steady. "You are the Earth," she repeated, her voice steady and sure. "Your connection may be weakened, but it's not gone. The Earth needs you, Kuniumi. It's calling to you. And you will answer."

Kuniumi looked down at her hands, the vines and leaves that covered her body rustling softly in the wind. She could feel the Earth beneath her, the faint hum of life pulsing through the soil, roots, and trees. It was weak – so very weak – but it was there. It hadn't abandoned her. Kuniumi's breath hitched as a sudden wave of realization washed over her. Her heart raced, her eyes widening with fear and desperation. She clutched at her chest, feeling the fragments of her fractured core stir within her. There was something – someone – missing.

"My baby…" she whispered, her voice trembling as her gaze darted to her mother. "Where is Naruto?"

Haname's expression softened, and she reached out gently, cupping Kuniumi's face. There was a warmth in her violet eyes, a kind that held steady even amid the sorrow surrounding them. She didn't speak immediately, but her lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. She tenderly stroked her daughter's cheek, her fingers brushing away the tears that threatened to spill over once more. Without a word, Haname turned Kuniumi's face to the west. The direction felt distant, but something was alive in it, something pulsing faintly, like the beat of a heart still fighting to keep rhythm. "Feel the ground. Feel your essence. Extend your consciousness," Haname said softly, her voice full of encouragement and quiet strength. "Do you see him? Do you feel your son?"

Kuniumi's breath was shaky, her chest rising and falling unevenly as she tried to steady herself. Her connection to the Earth was tenuous at best, fragmented and weak from the damage she had endured. But she was still the Earth, even in her broken state. She closed her eyes, taking in the scent of the rain-soaked ground beneath her, and extended her consciousness outward. It was a slow process, almost agonizing, like trying to reach through a fog that thickened with every step. Her mind strained against the invisible barriers, her awareness pushing further. Her connection to the Earth was fragile now – where once she could feel everything and see everything within her domain with the ease of a breath, now it required effort and focus. But she pressed on, determined, her will steeled by the thought of finding him.

And then she saw him.

It was as though a curtain had been pulled back, the fog clearing just enough for her to see the image of her son, as vivid and clear as if he were standing right in front of her. He was there, in the desert, alone and wandering. His body was wiry, his skin pale under the harsh sun. His hair, long and tangled, clung to his face, which was streaked with the dust of the desert he had called home for so long. His eyes were wide with madness, a wildness that chilled her to the bone. Kuniumi's breath caught in her throat as tears welled up in her eyes. Her son… her beloved Naruto… was not in great shape. She could see it in how he moved, and his lips parted as he mumbled incoherently to himself, his thoughts seemingly fractured like her own core. His steps were erratic, his body swaying as if he had been walking for days without rest. There was a desperation in his movements, not a sense of being lost, but within himself.

For so long, he had been alone – too long. The isolation had chipped away at his mind, piece by piece. He had been strong once, full of life, hope, and dreams. But now, as Kuniumi watched him, she could see the toll that time and solitude had taken on him. He looked broken, like a shadow of the boy she had once observed, the boy she had loved with all her heart. "Naruto…" she whispered, her voice filled with anguish. She desperately wanted to touch, hold, and tell him he wasn't alone.

As if sensing her presence, Naruto's head jerked up suddenly, his eyes wide and frantic. He stopped walking, his chest heaving with laboured breaths as he stared ahead, his gaze piercing the distance, locking onto something unseen. It was as though he could feel them watching him – feel her watching him. His lips parted in a gasp, his eyes filling with something new.

Recognition.

It was as if, in that moment, he understood. He knew. Even though he couldn't see them directly, he knew they were there. More importantly, his mother. One he never would have ever imagined seeing again. She watched as Naruto's pace quickened, his steps turning from a slow, aimless walk into a hurried jog. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his heart pounding in his ears as he pushed forward. His long hair whipped around his face as the wind picked up, and he stumbled slightly, his feet sinking into the sand beneath him. But he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. Not now.

Her son – her precious son – was coming to her. She could feel his emotions as if they were her own, the rush of joy and relief flooding through her as she realized that, despite everything, despite the madness that had crept into his mind, he still knew her. He still loved her.

Naruto's jog turned into a run, his legs pumping faster and faster as he tore across the desert, his tears mingling with the dust that clung to his skin. He didn't care about the heat, the dryness in his throat, or the muscle ache. All that mattered was reaching them – reaching her. The land bled together as he ran, the earth trembled slightly beneath him, as if urging him onward, guiding him toward her. The sky above darkened as clouds gathered, the air growing thick with anticipation. But Naruto didn't notice. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, the feeling pulling him forward, the invisible thread that tied him to his mother.

And then, as if by some miracle, Kuniumi felt him draw closer than ever before. The distance between them, once an insurmountable gulf, was shrinking. Her heart raced with anticipation, her hands trembling as she reached out to him, even though she knew he was still far away.

But he was coming.

Elsewhere to the West

Naruto's feet shuffled across the endless dunes, each step heavy, his pace brisk but unsteady. His mind was a whirl of chaos, his thoughts racing in no particular direction, just an endless cycle of broken fragments. His lips moved of their own accord, the words spilling out of him like water from a broken dam.

"Hi," he mumbled to no one, his voice flat, distant. "Hi…" he repeated, this time in a slightly different tone, as if testing the sound of the word in his mouth, searching for some meaning in the simplicity of it. "Stupid… dumb…" He cursed under his breath, shaking his head angrily, growling like a wild animal. "Why… why can't I get it right?" He was going to meet the new people in a few months. He needed to practice, to understand how to speak to another being.

His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he growled again, louder this time. He barked a sharp sound, throwing his head to the left as though there were someone there, someone he could shout at, but there was no one. Just the wind and the sand.

Naruto had been alone for so long, his mind a mess of half-formed thoughts and memories. He could no longer tell where his present self ended and where the fragments of his past began. His thoughts blurred together. He mumbled his name, repeating it repeatedly as though reminding himself who he was, as if the name 'Naruto' was the last thread that held him together.

But then… as he walked, something changed.

He felt a subtle shift in the air, like a pair of eyes suddenly focusing on him, someone watching. His steps faltered, and he stopped in his tracks, his head snapping upward as a flicker of movement caught his attention. A shimmer of light, barely visible, danced in the distance, and before his eyes, the shimmer solidified, taking form.

A woman shimmered into view. A projection.

Naruto froze, his breath catching in his throat. The woman stood ahead of him, her presence calm and steady, her form ethereal in the shimmering heat of the desert. Her red hair billowed gently in the breeze, a stark contrast against the pale backdrop of the dunes. For a moment, Naruto thought she was a mirage, a trick of the mind born from his long solitude in the wasteland.

But then, a memory sparked to life in the depths of his mind. A memory of a woman, her red hair gleaming as she smiled at him, her voice warm and gentle. She had told him a story once – about how she had been saved by the man she loved because of her red hair. He complimented her and then told her how beautiful she was. Her laughter had been soft and melodic, as she had spoken precious words that still echoed in his heart.

"I love you."

Kushina Uzumaki.

Naruto's eyes widened as recognition slammed into him like a physical blow. His heart raced in his chest, his throat tightening with emotion. "Kaa-chan…" he whispered, his voice barely audible. Tears welled in his eyes, and his lips quivered, trying and failing to form a smile. He didn't care how he looked – he could have been a mess, filthy, broken – it didn't matter. Because standing before him was the one person he had longed for more than anyone else.

His mother.

Kushina's red hair was unmistakable, the way it cascaded down her back, the same brilliant crimson he remembered. And her face – she was smiling at him, her violet eyes filled with warmth, with love. The love of a mother for her child.

Naruto's brisk walk came to a sudden halt. His legs trembled like the moment's weight was too much to bear. His breath hitched, a sob catching in his throat, and in an instant, he was running. His feet stumbled awkwardly across the uneven sand, and he fell, his body hitting the ground hard. But he didn't care. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the fall, and ran faster this time. His heart pounded in his chest, his vision blurred by tears, but he didn't stop.

The scenery around him blended together in a blur of sand, grass, and water, the distance between him and his mother shrinking rapidly with every step. He could see her now, standing there, waiting for him. Waiting with open arms. Her presence was everything he had longed for, everything he had missed. His body reacted instinctively, driven by the deep, primal need for her warmth, her love.

Naruto's form began to change as he ran. His mind slipped between the present and the past, between the adult he had become and the child he had once been. His body shrank, his limbs growing shorter, his frame smaller. His mother was there. He needed her. He needed her embrace, her love. He needed to feel like a child again, safe and loved in her arms.

He leapt forward, his small arms outstretched, reaching for her. His body collided with hers, his face pressing against her stomach as he wrapped his arms around her waist, clinging to her like a lifeline. His tears flowed freely now, soaking the fabric of her robes as he cried, his sobs raw and desperate.

"Kaa-chan…" Naruto whispered through his tears, his voice trembling. "Kaa-chan… I missed you… I missed you so much…"

His mom's arms wrapped around him, pulling him close, her embrace warm and comforting. She held him tightly, her fingers gently stroking his hair as he cried against her. He had been craving her touch – gentle, loving, maternal. It was a touch he had longed for in his darkest moments, in the endless eons of solitude when the weight of the world had been too much to bear.

She didn't speak right away. She didn't need to. Her presence, her warmth, was enough. Her love wrapped around him like a cocoon, sheltering him from the madness and loneliness that had consumed him for so long. Naruto's body trembled in her embrace, the overwhelming flood of emotions crashing over him, leaving him breathless.

He needed this.

He needed her.

He had been broken for so long – lost in the endless void of his mind, wandering through the world with no purpose, no anchor. He had thought he was beyond saving. But now, in his mother's arms, he realized that maybe he didn't have to be broken anymore.

Her hand cupped the back of his head, holding him gently as he cried. "Oh, my sweet Naruto," she whispered softly, her voice filled with the kind of love that only a mother could give. "My baby… it's okay. It's going to be okay."

Naruto's grip tightened around her waist, his small hands clutching at her clothes as if he were afraid she might disappear, that this might all be a dream. "I… I thought I'd never see you after that time," he whispered through his tears, his voice thick with emotion. "I thought… I thought I was alone…"

Kushina smiled, though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "I'm here now." She said to him. The woman stood at the side smiling sadly.

Her words were like a balm to his soul, soothing the deep wounds that had festered for so long. He pressed his face against her stomach, inhaling deeply, taking in her scent, her warmth. It was real. She was real. His mother was here. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Naruto felt something inside him begin to heal. They stood like that for what felt like hours, the world around them fading into the background. The world was silent, the winds had died down, leaving only the soft sound of Naruto's quiet sobs and Kushina's soothing whispers.

"And I'm not going anywhere." Kushina murmured, her voice reassuring, and she kissed his head. "I love you too, Naruto," she whispered. "Always."

Naruto, still clinging to his mother, felt the warmth of her embrace slowly settle into him like a blanket against the chill of his long loneliness. His tears had subsided, leaving him with the shaky breath of someone who had cried harder than he had in years. He felt her hand gently stroke his hair, her fingers combing through the golden locks in the way only a mother could. The pain, the madness – it all seemed so far away, distant memories compared to the comfort he felt now.

But as he pulled back slightly, still smiling, still feeling the weight of his mother's presence, something shifted inside him. His eyes wandered, and then they caught sight of her.

The other woman.

A memory, distant and half-formed, flickered at the edge of his mind, but he couldn't grasp it fully. Her face was familiar, and yet it wasn't. His smile faltered, confusion creeping into his expression. He stared at her, his brow furrowing, trying to remember… something. The recognition tugged at the edges of his memory, and suddenly, his smile vanished. His body tensed, his muscles twitching involuntarily. The peace that had filled him only moments ago was shattered as something deeper, darker, surged within him. The woman he met, who sat in the jungle.

His heart began to pound again, not with the joy that had filled him moments ago but with an unease he couldn't explain. His body reacted before his mind could catch up. His form shifted erratically at first, as though the tension in his mind was reflected in his appearance. His body flickered – once into a woman, slender and delicate – then back to his true form. His muscles returned, his chest broad, his beard thick and unruly, and his long hair fell down his back. His true self, the man he had become over countless years, stood there, facing the woman with eyes that burned with something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Accusation.

"You lied." The words slipped from his mouth, sharp and cutting. His voice, deep and rough, carried with it the weight of years of isolation and the madness that had gnawed at his mind. His eyes bore into her, his muscles tensing like preparing for a confrontation. The words weren't meant for his mother – they were aimed squarely at the woman before him. The one whose name he couldn't remember.

With her crimson hair flowing gently in the breeze, the woman remained calm under his gaze. Her violet eyes, so much like his own in their intensity, showed no fear, no surprise at his outburst. She simply looked at him, her gaze steady, as though she had expected this, as though she had seen it all before. Naruto's mouth opened to say more, but he hesitated. His eyes flickered toward his mother, still standing beside him, her warmth radiating like the sun. She hadn't lied. She had told him the truth – that he wouldn't be alone for much longer. And she had brought his mother back to him, given him the one thing he had wanted most in the world. His accusation faltered the anger that had surged within him suddenly cooling, replaced by uncertainty.

He turned his gaze back to the woman with the crimson hair, his brow furrowing once more. Naruto glanced again at his mom, his heart pounding as a new thought entered his mind. No. That couldn't be it. But the more he looked at his mother, then back at the crimson-haired woman, the more his confusion deepened. They looked so much alike – the same vibrant hair and intensity in their eyes. A connection was forming, a realization slowly creeping into his consciousness.

"Who…" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, forcing himself to speak. "Who are you?" The words were heavy, filled with a desperation he hadn't meant to reveal. He needed answers.

The woman's expression softened slightly, a gentle smile touching her lips as she watched him struggle with the truth slowly unfolding. "I am Haname," she said, her voice steady. "Your grandmother."

Naruto's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. He stared at her, trying to process what she had just said, but the words didn't initially seem real to him. His grandmother? How could that be? He had never known… his grandmother. He had never even considered the possibility. "Grandmother?" he repeated softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The word felt foreign on his tongue, as though it belonged to someone else. In a distant memory, he had been a grandfather once, but he never had someone he looked to that way. Did he?

Haname nodded gently, her violet eyes never leaving his. "Yes, Naruto. I am your grandmother. And I've been watching over you for a long time."

"You…" He swallowed, his throat dry. "You were the one who… you told me I wouldn't be alone…"

Haname nodded again, her expression soft but steady. "Yes. I did."

His chest tightened, the weight of his emotions too much to bear. He had spent so long searching and wandering through desolation, believing he was alone. And now, in moments, he had been given more than he had ever dared to hope for. Naruto's legs gave way beneath him, and he dropped to his knees in the soft grass, his hands gripping the earth as though grounding himself in reality. His breath came in shaky gasps, his mind spinning with the enormity of it all.

Haname stepped forward, kneeling beside him. She reached out, her hand gentle as she placed it on his shoulder. "You're not alone anymore, Naruto," she said softly, her voice filled with love. "You never were." And she looked at her daughter, who met her eyes, then Naruto's.

He had his family.

~ ~ 2 million years later ~ ~

Naruto lay sprawled out on a soft bed of grass, the sun high above casting its warm, golden light down on him. The blades of grass swayed gently in the breeze, whispering softly as they brushed against his skin. He lazily nibbled on a long piece of grass, his sharp blue eyes gazing up at the sky, watching the clouds float by with little care. The sky was pale blue, dotted with puffy clouds that drifted by slowly, like massive ships sailing across an ocean. Naruto found himself playing his old game, trying to discern the shapes in the clouds.

"That one looks like a frog," he muttered, chuckling softly. His gaze shifted to another cloud. "And that one's definitely a ramen bowl. Nice." God, he wished he could eat ramen.

A yawn escaped his lips, his body relaxing further into the grass beneath him. It had been a very long, eventful time since he'd met his mother and grandmother, and the years since then had been a strange but welcome change of pace. Naruto's thoughts wandered back to that pivotal moment, the day when he had felt that overwhelming presence and discovered he wasn't alone anymore. Not truly alone.

His mom, Kushina, had been everything he had dreamed she would be. Warm, caring, and filled with the love only a mother could give. She had held him, comforted him, and in those moments, Naruto had felt whole again for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. Her presence had grounded him, pulled him back from the brink of madness, and reminded him of what it was to be loved. It had taken a weight off his soul that he hadn't even realized he was carrying.

But it was his grandmother, Haname, who had left a more complex impression on him. She had been a whirlwind of power and mystery. After their reunion, Haname hadn't stayed long. She had disappeared just as suddenly as she had appeared, her presence like a fleeting gust of wind. And that was how it often was with her. His grandmother was erratic like that – always everywhere and everywhen. It was something Naruto had come to understand about her. Haname wasn't bound by the same rules of time and space that he was. She moved through the flow of existence like a leaf on a river, touching down at different points in time and reality, only to vanish just as quickly.

He had met other versions of her since then, at different stages of her life. Once, he had encountered a much younger version of his grandmother – she had called herself Calista. The memory brought a smile to his lips as he stared up at the clouds, the piece of grass still dangling from his mouth. She was shocked to meet him. She was a young, nascent immortal who was only sixteen years old at the time, wearing strange garb Naruto had never seen before – she called it a 'tohgaa'. Her eyes had been wide with surprise, as though she couldn't quite believe who he was.

"I'm Naruto," he had said at the time, offering her his usual grin.

Calista had blinked at him, her expression filled with confusion. "I know who you are… but how?" she had whispered, clearly struggling to reconcile what she knew with what was happening.

Naruto hadn't pressed her for answers back then. He had learned by then that with his grandmother, or any version of her, there was often more going on than met the eye. She had quickly disappeared, stumbling as bowed before vanishing from his sight, leaving him alone once more.

And then there had been another encounter a few millennia after that. He had seen his grandmother again, cradling a baby version of his mother in her arms. It had been a treat – seeing his mom as a baby, her little face scrunched up in an adorable scowl, her tiny fists clenching and unclenching as though she was already prepared to fight the world. Haname had simply smiled at him, offering no explanation, and had vanished again, leaving Naruto standing there, chuckling at the absurdity of it all.

It was strange to meet his grandmother at different points in her life, yet she always seemed to recognize him, no matter how young or old she was. But that was the nature of Haname, or Calista, or whatever she called herself in the moment. She existed outside of time, always shifting, always moving. It was hard to keep up with her, and Naruto had learned to accept that she was a part of his life in a way that was beyond his understanding.

He stretched his arms above his head, feeling the tension in his muscles loosen as he yawned again. On the other hand, his mother was far more stable – when she was awake, at least. She had gone into hibernation shortly after their reunion, retreating into a deep sleep to regain her strength. The damage to her core, the fracturing of her connection to the Earth, had weakened her over time. Her power had diminished greatly, and it took thousands of years of rest for her to even begin to recover. Naruto hadn't minded. He understood that she needed time, and knowing that she was still with him, even if she was sleeping, brought him comfort.

During her hibernation, Naruto had learned to find peace in his solitude again. It wasn't the same crushing loneliness that had driven him mad before. No, now he had the knowledge that his family was out there, even if they weren't always with him. It was enough to keep him grounded, to keep him sane.

And then there was Chaos.

Naruto's brow furrowed slightly at the thought of his grandfather. It left a strange, uncomfortable feeling in his gut whenever he thought about it. Chaos was his grandfather, the being who was by all means his greatest enemy, the embodiment of everything that had threatened his very existence. Even after all these years, he had struggled to wrap his mind around that truth. Thankfully, Chaos hadn't shown up since that fateful encounter. Naruto didn't know if he could handle seeing him again. He had no desire to confront him ever again (he was terrified of him and wasn't afraid to admit it).

He rolled over onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he gazed out at the grassy field. The sky was a brilliant blue, and the soft rustling of the grass in the wind was soothing, almost meditative. He had spent so much time here, in this quiet, peaceful place. After everything he had been through, this felt like a haven, a place where he could rest and simply be.

Naruto's thoughts drifted again, this time turning inward. He had begun to spend more time in his mindscape as of late, exploring the deep recesses of his consciousness, standing over his daughter's prone body. No matter how hard he tried her name eluded him. That absence left an uncomfortable knot in his chest, a sense of loss that he couldn't fully comprehend. But even without her name, she remained sealed within him, and he would often visit her in his mindscape, standing quietly before her, offering a small prayer over her.

His muscles felt loose and relaxed, his body at ease. Being so calm after everything he had endured was a strange feeling. He had spent millennia wandering the earth, battling his mind, confronting his past, and searching for meaning. But now, in this quiet moment, he felt a sense of peace. He wasn't truly alone anymore. Yes, he was old – far older than any human had a right to be – but his mind was no longer weighed down by the madness that had once plagued him. His grandmother had come and gone, his mother slept in hibernation, and even Chaos hadn't appeared in eons. Naruto had space to breathe, think, and live for the first time in what felt like an eternity. His body felt light, his mind clear. For now, there was no pressing danger, no urgent need to fight or flee. There was just this quiet, peaceful moment where he could lie in the grass and watch the clouds, his mind free from the burdens of the past.

And that, Naruto thought with a smile, was enough.

He wasn't alone. Not anymore.

A/N: Thanks for the love. There are 51 chapters fully written, needed to be uploaded! So I'll post two at a time every week on Wednesday and Thursday.
The progression is increasing, and I'm reading more murim manhwa and novels. It's a guilty pleasure, I'm sorry. Thanks for the love and support of the people who stayed!
If anyone is curious, I work roughly 45 hours a week, and writing is a hobby. Not my job. I could post a chapter once every 10 years, and I wouldn't mind.

If anything doesn't make sense, please do tell - I have a bad habit of not rereading my work, so fixing mistakes can help - especially if they're mistakes within the plot.
Also, sorry for switching names often. Kuniumi = Kushina. Haname = Calista = Her mother.
And yes, Naruto did have an identity crisis, he's still a bit mad. But, that's because of how long he's been alone.