Otsutsuki (Rebooted)

by greymatter1098

This is a reboot of my story Otsutsuki. This is an alternate universe story where Naruto is an Otsutsuki that is sent to Earth and found by Minato & taken him by him & Kushina. This universe variant of Asura will be Mito Uzumaki (Minato & Kushina's biological daughter) & Indra will be Sayuri Uchiha (Fugaku & Mikoto's daughter & Itachi's younger sister). Mostly NarutoxSayuri centric

19. Akatsuki

Akatsuki

Naruto perched on a weathered fence post overlooking the debris-strewn training field, the early morning sun barely piercing the lingering storm clouds. The air smelled of damp stone and the faint tang of ozone, remnants of the battles and jutsu slung about over the last few weeks.

His breath came shallow, and his mind refused to settle. News of the Third Hokage's passing, the chaotic invasion of the village, and the eventual fate of Orochimaru—had turned Naruto's world on its head. Only days ago, he had stood in the ruined stadium, half his clothes torn, his chakra in tatters, standing amid the bodies of fallen foes. Now he found himself embroiled in the aftermath: reeling from the truths Sarutobi had revealed in his final moments, wrestling with complicated loyalties, and grappling with unexpected new hopes.

He might have been standing among lines of mourners or standing by a memorial stone, but funerals had never been something Naruto wished to attend. Not that he lacked respect for the departed—quite the opposite. The harsh truth was that seeing caskets lowered and hearing eulogies repeated had always gnawed at him. Years ago, as a child, he had lived out in the wilds, had lost far too many to count, and had decided that ceremonies of grief brought him nothing but raw memories and heartbreak. He came to believe that if there was one best way he could honor the dead, it was by living—pushing forward and forging a stronger future.

That resolve was how he kept going after the recent tragedies. The Third's funeral service, held under the gloom of a drizzling sky, had drawn half the village. Naruto had chosen not to attend, slipping away before any of the elders could cajole him to join the procession. It wasn't about disrespect; no shinobi who'd shared a battlefield with him would ever claim he lacked devotion to his comrades or sensei. It was simply that, for him, those events opened fresh wounds he couldn't bear. He had too much to do—trials to face, secrets to unravel, and burdens to shoulder—to let the weight of sorrow anchor him in place.

He shifted slightly on the fence post, recalling Sarutobi's last words, half overheard in the swirling tempest of jutsu. The old man had spoken of his adopted father, the Fourth Hokage—Minato Namikaze—still being alive, trapped for years in a coma, sealed away from consciousness after sacrificing himself to stop the Nine-Tails' rampage. And in his final gambit, Sarutobi had bartered with the Shinigami to restore Minato's mind and body, leaving Orochimaru's stolen soul to be devoured in exchange.

Naruto lifted one hand to tug absently at the collar of his dark uniform. He remembered the hush that fell over him when, years ago, the Third Hokage had all but confirmed everyone's contempt was driven by the Nine-Tails which it turns out was never sealed within him to begin with. The Third claimed to protect him yet withheld truths about his parentage and about the Fourth's fate, letting Naruto fester under the village's collective hatred.

"Lied to me my whole life," Naruto muttered under his breath. He could picture Sarutobi's final expression: regret, sadness, perhaps some lingering affection. But no apology could undo the years of half-truths. Naruto rubbed at his sternum, where that dull ache never quite vanished. He recognized that, as a Root operative, he'd lived and endured horrors beyond typical genin experience. He had fought Zabuza Momochi on a far-off bridge, had barely survived a skirmish with Jigen—some monstrous Otsutsuki vessel—had clashed with Gaara of the Sand—and had helped permanently eliminate the Snake Sanin. Each memory carried its own scars, each a reminder of how dire the world could be. Sarutobi had tried, but his attempts to shield Naruto from knowledge of his father's condition rang hollow now.

And then there was his Otsutsuki bloodline. The notion had come to light days before the Chūnin Exams ended in chaos, spurred by incomplete records. Naruto still wasn't fully sure what it meant beyond having inherited some alien legacy. That alone could explain certain… anomalies in his Chakra and the suspicious ease with which he performed certain forbidden jutsu or bonded with summons beyond standard training. The news weighed on him, adding a sharper edge to his identity crisis. He was an Uzumaki, a Root operative, a child of the Fourth Hokage, and apparently an Otsutsuki scion. He exhaled slowly, letting the crisp air cut through the swirl of half-formed doubts.

He had a report to submit to Danzō soon—some post-battle summary of Orochimaru's infiltration and the new power vacuum after Sarutobi's death. But a single question gnawed at him: should he tell Danzō about Minato Namikaze's revival? He'd overheard Sarutobi's dying words, gleaned enough to surmise the Fourth had been restored. If Danzō learned that the legendary Yellow Flash was returning, would the entire power dynamic shift again? Naruto could guess that Danzō might attempt to assassinate Minato. The Root commander's motives were rarely altruistic.

"Do I even owe him that truth?" Naruto wondered aloud. Rain dripping from his brow forced him to blink, but he found no immediate answer.

He felt a presence behind him—familiar, confident footsteps padding through the slush. A flicker of wind teased his hair. Naruto exhaled. "Jiraiya," he greeted without turning around.

"Well, you sure don't miss a beat," came the older man's playful voice. Naruto hopped off the fence post, turning to see the tall, white-haired Sannin striding closer. Jiraiya wore his usual red haori and green outfit, though it was muddied from the days of infiltration and fighting. A smile tugged at his lips, but the lines around his eyes betrayed underlying grief.

"In another mood, I might have just spied on you from the trees," Jiraiya continued, patting away droplets of rain from his sleeves. "But I figured you'd sense me anyway."

They stood there for a beat, the hush of the drizzling sky stretching between them. Jiraiya's gaze swept the field, taking in the battered terrain. "This place has seen better days."

"I could say the same about the entire village," Naruto replied quietly. The admission was laced with bitterness, a brand of subdued anger. "You… don't usually show up after a funeral." He let the words linger, aware that Jiraiya had famously avoided such rituals for years. He'd never come to the services for certain fallen comrades. Rumor had it the man disliked mourning in public.

"Funerals and I don't mesh," Jiraiya said with a shrug, folding his arms. His tone was subdued, though a wry smile ghosted across his features. "And I'm not here to pay respects at the memorial stone or anything. Just… checking in."

Naruto's eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you sure that's all it is?"

"You're half-right, kid," Jiraiya admitted. "The entire village is reeling from the invasion. Folks are scrambling to see who'll step up as Hokage next. People want a sense of direction."

Naruto inhaled. It made sense. With the Third gone, some in the council might push for Danzō, others might demand the return of Tsunade—a legendary Sannin known for her healing prowess. Rumors had it that Tsunade was a distant relative to the First Hokage, and arguably a prime candidate for the role. "So you plan to find that next person," Naruto said, half statement, half question.

Jiraiya nodded, a hint of that old, boisterous grin creeping back. "Tsunade is the last of the Sannin still roaming free—and the only one I can imagine who could keep this place running. I intended to drag her back months ago, but… I had other priorities." He paused, his gaze drifting over Naruto. "Then everything happened so fast—Orochimaru's infiltration, Gaara's rampage, your scuffles with the Otsutsuki threat. Now, though, the time's come. If the Leaf is to stand tall, we need a strong Hokage. And I'd prefer it not to be Danzō."

A flicker of suspicion crossed Naruto's face. "So you want me to come along, help you find Tsunade?" He recalled that Jiraiya was hardly one for solemn missions, let alone for forging alliances out of altruism. The man often disguised serious tasks under a veneer of wanderlust and "research."

"Clever guess," Jiraiya admitted with a lopsided smile. "But you nailed it. I'm planning to head out in the next hour or so, and I'd like you with me. Let's call it a… sensei-student expedition. The elders can handle funeral rites without me. This will be more productive."

Naruto mulled it over, remembering how Jiraiya had teased him about chasing after a 'lost princess' or something along those lines. The faintest grin ghosted across his lips. "So your motive is to skip the memorial events, huh?"

A flicker of something deeper crossed Jiraiya's face—an echo of sorrow or regret that Naruto caught in the man's eyes. "Funerals… never liked them," the Sannin said softly, tone momentarily bereft of humor. "But it's more than that. Sarutobi-sensei's death… I can't just stand around grieving. He wouldn't want that either. And if Tsunade is out there, drinking and gambling her days away, she needs to know that Konoha can't survive on autopilot."

Naruto nodded, crossing his arms. Memories of the Third's final act—the Shinigami, the swirl of monstrous power, the abrupt revelation that Minato Namikaze now lived—echoed in Naruto's mind. If Jiraiya only knew… or maybe he did. The old toad sage had been close to Minato once. "Got it," Naruto said. "Well, I can't stand around either. If you're leaving, I'll come."

The Sannin's grin brightened. "I'd hoped you would. Besides, you're about as fond of big ceremonies as I am." He cast a fleeting glance at the battered training field. "But be warned, it's going to be a… lively journey. Tsunade might not want to be found."

Naruto, for the first time in hours, almost laughed. "Given the shape of the village, a small journey might be a relief." He paused. The memory of his obligations came rushing back—Danzō waiting for that mandatory mission debrief. The man was probably expecting a coded scroll or an in-person evaluation. "I have to deliver a report," Naruto began.

Jiraiya's brow lifted. "To Danzō?"

"Yeah." Naruto exhaled. "He's… given me more responsibility lately. Ever since the infiltration, Root's looking to me for updates. And maybe I should tell him about Minato." He said that last part quietly.

Surprise rippled through Jiraiya's features. "Minato… Wait, you heard the The Third then?" He squinted, as though trying to confirm if Naruto truly knew.

Naruto shrugged, rubbing a spot on his arm. "I was right next to him. Sarutobi basically said it, in his last seconds, that the Fourth's mind and body were restored—some deal with the Shinigami. If so, that means he's out there, probably in some hidden facility. And I have no idea if I want Danzō anywhere near him. Because—"

"Because Danzō might twist it to his advantage," Jiraiya finished. "Kid, you're not wrong. If its true… if Minato's truly awakened from that coma, he's going to have one hell of a shock learning about everything that's happened these last thirteen years." The older man's mouth tightened. "Orochimaru, the mass infiltration, you and your unique predicament. Hardly the village he left behind."

A heaviness settled in Naruto's gut. "Part of me… wants to see him. If it's actually my fa...foster father. But there's so much else tangled in this. My ties to Root, the people who died because the Third lied to me—"

"Stop," Jiraiya said gently, resting a hand on Naruto's shoulder. "We'll handle that. For now, trust me: let's keep Minato's revival under wraps until we know more. At least until we have Tsunade in place or some stable leadership. Danzō can wait. You owe him no immediate revelations. Konoha's precarious enough; the fewer bombs we drop, the better."

Naruto inhaled, pondering the advice. Jiraiya might not be an ally of Root, but he had a certain cunning about Leaf politics that Naruto had come to respect. "Alright. I'll… hold off telling Danzō. Let him glean scraps from secondhand sources if he must."

"Wise choice," Jiraiya said, removing his hand. Rain sizzled lightly on the battered walkway behind them. "But that means we have limited time. We should slip out by sundown, or earliest dawn tomorrow. The council might try to tether me to some caretaker duty if they realize I plan to leave the village now. But if we vanish quietly, no fuss."

"Fine," Naruto agreed. "I'll file a basic version of my report then meet you at the west gate." He paused, eyes drifting over the smashed training posts and the half-flooded grounds. "We can bury the rest of these questions when we have Tsunade back."

Jiraiya nodded, turning as though to go, then paused, glancing once more at Naruto. "You know, all this talk about funerals… Sarutobi-sensei always had faith that you'd be the one to do what needs doing, that you'd find your own path. We might differ on whether he lied or withheld the truth from you, but he genuinely believed in you. Just—remember that, if you can."

Something knotted in Naruto's chest, a swirl of resentment but he exhaled, letting the tension slip away. "I won't forget," he said, giving a curt nod.

In silence, they parted ways. Jiraiya hopped off, presumably heading to gather supplies or glean final bits of intelligence about Tsunade's whereabouts. Naruto watched the man go, arms folded. A swirl of complicated feelings simmered in his mind. Sarutobi's final illusions, Minato's revival, Danzo's manipulations, the Otsutsuki legacy… an entire labyrinth of secrets.

He hopped down from the fence post, forging a purposeful stride toward the heart of the battered village. He needed to hurry: The day was short, and he had to meet Jiraiya soon. A tingle of excitement, overshadowed by the gravity of his burdens, flickered inside him. If Tsunade truly was the next Hokage, maybe that would calm some storms within Konoha. Maybe Minato's unexpected reappearance—if he was indeed awake—would not plunge the village into turmoil. Or maybe it would.

One step at a time, Naruto reminded himself. First, he'd confirm that his formal Root report contained only carefully curated details. Next, he'd slip away with Jiraiya, presumably to track down a "princess"—the rumored Sannin who might save Konoha from a leadership vacuum. That journey, no doubt, would be fraught with complications, especially if Tsunade refused to come quietly. But it also promised potential glimpses of fresh vistas beyond the battered walls, a chance to breathe away from the stifling acrimony. Perhaps, in the chaos of travel, he could reflect on everything he'd learned. Sort out how to face Minato Namikaze as more than a distant father figure, but as a living man with regrets of his own.

Naruto felt the drizzle lighten, the storm clouds thinning overhead, letting a few timid beams of sunlight wash across the broken stones. He let the fleeting warmth brush against his cheeks. Enough gloom for today. He had survived Orochimaru's infiltration, he had braved Root's missions, he had bested Gaara, and now he would walk forward, forging alliances or cutting them down as needed.

---

Sayuri's eyelids felt unnaturally heavy, as if weighted down by sheets of lead. She stirred with a quiet moan, the scratchy texture of a hospital blanket brushing against her cheek. Her head pounded, and the lingering scent of antiseptic stung her nose. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the glare of the midday sun filtering through the high, rectangular window.

The room itself was unremarkable—a standard Konoha hospital unit, with a metal-framed bed, a few chairs, and a tall cabinet lined with medicine. An IV drip stood at her side, its rhythmic beep matching the faint throbbing in her head. As her vision cleared, Sayuri registered a figure seated at her bedside—still as a statue, but unmistakably present.

"Kakashi… sensei?" she managed, her voice raspy. Her throat felt raw, and her limbs ached with a deep-rooted exhaustion.

Kakashi Hatake straightened from where he'd been slouched in a plastic chair. He placed the small book he was reading face-down on his lap, regarding her with a single, visible eye. "Good to see you awake," he said softly, the relief in his tone betraying the cool demeanor of his masked features. "You've been out for a few days."

Days? The word rattled around in her mind. "How…" she began, but the question died on her lips as flickers of memory returned. Gaara. The invasion. Her curse mark searing with pain. Then darkness. She let out a breath. "What happened?"

Kakashi exhaled, resting one forearm on the edge of her bed. "You collapsed while we were turning over the Sand siblings to the ANBU. Your curse mark started acting up, and you were in obvious pain. Then you just… passed out. We rushed you here, but for a while, we weren't sure when you'd regain consciousness."

Sayuri shivered at the recollection of the burning sensation scalding her shoulder. She pushed down the blanket a fraction, gingerly tilting her head to glimpse the curse mark's location. The skin was bandaged, but she could sense its presence. A dull warmth, though not nearly as aggressive as before, pulsed beneath the gauze.

"What about… the invasion?" she asked. Her words caught in her throat as fragments of memory surfaced: Orochimaru's infiltration, the monstrous summons, her own frantic battles. She remembered Kakashi's tense voice, the swirl of leaf shinobi rushing to defend the village. "Is everyone… are we safe now?"

Kakashi nodded. "Safe enough, for the moment. The invasion ended the same day you collapsed. Lord Third…" He paused, and an unmistakable sadness flickered in his visible eye. "He's gone. He used a forbidden technique to ensure Orochimaru's defeat. Sacrificed himself in the process."

Sayuri inhaled sharply, though the breath caught painfully in her chest. Sarutobi was gone? Memories rose unbidden—fleeting exchanges where he'd offered her measured guidance despite the weight of her own secrets. Guilt pressed in, that she hadn't done more… or at least said a proper goodbye. "I see," she murmured after a moment, voice subdued.

"Jiraiya-sama—Lord Jiraiya—stepped in to handle some of the aftermath," Kakashi continued. "He also looked at you, by the way, while you were out cold. He's no medic-nin, but he has extensive knowledge of seals. He examined your curse mark."

Sayuri's eyes flickered with alarm. The curse mark had been her burden, an ever-present brand linking her to Orochimaru's twisted legacy. "What did he say?" she asked, swallowing a surge of apprehension.

Kakashi leaned forward, pulling the chair closer to the bed. "He found that the mark's chakra presence has settled—become far less volatile. Almost as though a major source of its power has been cut off. His theory is that because Orochimaru was… sealed, or possibly killed, the curse mark lost its anchor. Without Orochimaru's direct influence, the mark's malignant chakra is receding."

A wave of relief mingled with uncertainty washed over her. She remembered the scorching agony that seized her only days earlier, a sensation of raw, unbridled fury welling up from her curse. If Jiraiya was correct, maybe that chain had finally broken. "Does it… does it mean I'm free from it?"

Kakashi paused, choosing his words carefully. "Not entirely, but it might be stable—like a lamp that's unplugged. It'll remain, but its malignant power is no longer being fed. Jiraiya-sama suggested you keep that bandage on and avoid intense ninjutsu for a while, just to be safe. But it's unlikely you'll have a flare-up like before, especially if Orochimaru's truly gone."

Sayuri closed her eyes, a slow exhale escaping her lips. The tension in her muscles loosened slightly. So that was the explanation for the violent reaction—some final convulsion triggered by Orochimaru's downfall. She could hardly believe it was real. For so long, that looming shadow had haunted her nights. Now, it felt as if a weight had been lifted.

Kakashi observed her expression, reading the swirl of relief and sorrow. "We wanted to keep you up-to-date, but it's been a mess. The hospital has been at capacity, and with the Third Hokage's passing, the entire chain of command is in flux. Many shinobi have been out scouting for remnants of enemy forces, but the official word is that the invasion is over. Our side sustained losses, but in the end, we repelled the combined forces of Sound and Sand."

A pang of regret coursed through Sayuri. "Are the Sand siblings…?"

"Secure in ANBU custody," Kakashi answered. "Gaara was drained, nearly catatonic. Temari and Kankurō didn't resist after their defeat. Negotiations with the Sand have begun, actually. So far, it appears they were manipulated by Orochimaru into attacking. The new Kazekage—once everything is sorted out—may extend an apology or reparation."

Sayuri nodded slowly, sinking into the thin hospital pillow. She'd gleaned from their brief interactions that the siblings were not inherently vicious, only guided by complicated loyalties and manipulations. "They might not be the real enemy," she said quietly, then shifted her gaze back to Kakashi. "And… how are the others—Naruto, Ino, the rest?"

Kakashi's eye softened. "Naruto is battered but fine, last I heard. He was crucial in stopping Gaara's full transformation. Ino's resting too, from the earlier injuries in the Forest of Death, but stable. Our shinobi fought valiantly. There were casualties, yes, but we emerged. You don't need to worry."

Sayuri lay still, a complex web of relief, regret, and lingering grief running through her. Though the hospital's sterile air was far from comforting, it was a far cry better than the battlefield.

Kakashi cleared his throat. "Back to your condition… The mark's docile for now, but Jiraiya-sama recommended you to see him personally once you're on your feet again, to discuss your curse seal in detail. He wants to confirm your chakra flows aren't compromised and see if there's any chance it could lash out again."

"Of course," she replied, feeling an odd sense of warmth from the gesture. "I suppose that's better than living in fear of it flaring up again."

Kakashi offered a nod. "Definitely. Besides, with Orochimaru out of the picture, your life might be a bit calmer from now on."

Sayuri pursed her lips, recalling just how complicated her existence had been: the secrecy of her connections, the hidden training that shaped her. "Maybe," she said, voice tinged with caution. "There's always another threat around the corner."

The silver-haired jonin let out a soft chuckle. "True enough. But for now, rest. You've earned it. That meltdown you experienced was severe. We nearly lost you to shock."

She shifted her legs beneath the blanket, wincing slightly at the residual ache in her muscles. The pain was a dull reminder that her body had endured something profound. "Thanks… for bringing me here," she offered, voice subdued.

Kakashi reached over, giving her forearm a reassuring pat. "Of course." Then, in a quieter tone, "You worried me, you know. For a moment, I thought that curse mark was devouring you from the inside out."

Her stomach twisted at the memory of those scorching pulses, how it felt like a malevolent hand was strangling her from within. She met Kakashi's gaze. "It nearly did," she admitted. "I can still feel the echoes, like embers. But if Orochimaru's hold is gone, maybe I can breathe again."

Kakashi nodded. "Exactly. And you're not alone in this. The village—once we appoint a new Hokage—should be stable enough to help you. And your allies, your friends, they'll stand by you."

A faint smile played on her lips, an unspoken gratitude. In the swirl of infiltration, curses, and hidden agendas, the notion of camaraderie meant more than she cared to admit. "I appreciate that."

They remained in companionable silence for a few moments, the steady beep of hospital machines filling the gaps in conversation. Outside, a nurse bustled by with a clipboard, peering in to check on them. Kakashi waved her off gently, indicating that everything was fine.

Sayuri felt exhaustion pulling at her again, her limbs heavy. Yet a lighter spirit danced beneath it all, a sense of hope that perhaps she was free from Orochimaru's insidious snare. "Mind if I rest a bit more?" she asked softly, eyelids already drooping.

"Go ahead," Kakashi replied, leaning back in the chair. "I'll stay here for a while. There's no rush."

She closed her eyes, letting the calmness of the sterile room lull her. Just before drifting off, she murmured, "Thank you," uncertain if Kakashi caught the words.

But the slight upward curve of his mask told her he understood.

The hush of the hospital ward settled around them, and as Sayuri surrendered to sleep, faint traces of the curse mark's burning ache ebbed away. Orochimaru was gone, the mark now a scar of a past alliance severed. She would heal—physically and perhaps emotionally.

---

The aftermath of the failed invasion still weighed heavily on everyone's minds. Though much of Konohagakure remained intact, the atmosphere was thick with the residue of broken loyalties, shattered stone, and the lingering hush of grief. In truth, most of the villagers no longer regarded Naruto with scorn—at least, not outwardly. But their swift pivot to hailing him a savior for helping repel the Sand and Sound forces grated on his nerves. He found it unsettling that so many of those who once spat venom in his direction had switched to shallow praises the moment he demonstrated overwhelming power.

He strode down a bustling avenue, head bowed, ignoring the murmurs that followed him. His orange-black pants and short-sleeved top bore new scuffs from the invasion. Though a few villagers spotted him and offered hesitant waves or half-smiles, he responded with curt nods. He was keenly aware that, if circumstance flipped again, they'd revert to labeling him a menace. Some grudges, especially those many years deep, rarely disappeared so neatly.

"Ironic how they call you a hero, child, after you spent most of your life enduring their contempt," Ichiro's baritone voice resonated in Naruto's mind—a fatherly imprint from an alien lineage he rarely spoke about.

"Such inconsistency is the curse of mortal attachments," Hikari's gentler voice echoed, maternal worry lacing each syllable. "Yet we do not blame them wholeheartedly. Fear blinds so many."

Naruto exhaled. As he walked, these mental illusions of his Otsutsuki parents—fragments of their chakra sealed within him—provided commentary on every situation. More than once, their calm insights had guided him, but sometimes he wished the voices would quiet so he could wrestle with the world's madness in silence.

He wasn't sure whether he found their presence comforting or intrusive. They were all he had of his original heritage—a clue that he came from an ancient celestial clan, one that thrived on conquest and chakra harvest. Ichiro and Hikari had cast aside those Otsutsuki ways, sending him here for a chance at real freedom. It was odd to realize these fleeting voices in his mind were the only link to people he'd never truly know.

His path wound past a half-reconstructed wall, close to the administrative sector. Carpenters hammered away at broken gates, shinobi patrolled with hawk-like vigilance, and rubble was piled in neat mounds awaiting disposal. Here and there, the Hidden Leaf's symbol still flew, battered but proud.

He glanced at the scaffolding overhead and frowned, thinking about how, mere weeks ago, the same people who flung stones had discovered that he owned a certain apartment complex under the alias "Hiro." The resulting outrage—"He tricked us into letting the demon touch our shoes!"—threatened a violent outburst. Naruto had half-expected them to ransack or torch his building. Yet, surprisingly, neither had happened. His tenants hadn't fled in mass panic, either.

"A start, at least," he mused, ignoring how that grudging acceptance felt shaky.

He was grateful in a detached way. The building's steady income financed his training, his private ventures, and sometimes a bit of extravagance. Right now, though, he was more concerned about other matters: the Akatsuki, for instance. Jiraiya had recently warned him about that clandestine group—shinobi rumored to be powerful beyond reason, each more dangerous than the last. They hunted individuals tied to colossal chakra sources. People like Naruto.

A month ago, he might have panicked at the thought of unrelenting S-rank criminals lurking in shadows. But now, fueled by the success of facing down Gaara in a savage confrontation and forcibly scattering the Ichibi's power, he felt ready—eager, in fact—to hunt them first.

Hadn't Jiraiya cautioned him about that impulse? Perhaps. But Naruto saw no point in waiting for them to corner him at a disadvantage. Better to strike first, exploit the swirl of confusion left by the invasion, and remove them from the board. He was far from powerless, after all.

He clenched a fist. If the Akatsuki wanted to threaten him or the few he held dear, he'd crush them. That was the plan.

Still, a nagging voice warned him not to overestimate his abilities. He'd advanced drastically in the last half-year, training in secret with Root missions, grappling with Jigen—the maddening Otsutsuki vessel who nearly killed him—and then, more recently, battling Gaara. He'd performed high-level feats that stunned both allies and enemies. So it wasn't hubris to claim he was strong. He was. But were they stronger?

"Focus," Ichiro's voice echoed, paternal caution seeping in. "Gathering more intel can only help. Do not rush."

Naruto sighed, shoving aside the mild frustration. He often debated with these mental echoes, but they seldom lost an argument.

He was pulled from his reverie by a flicker of memory: Danzo's impassive face during his report. The old war hawk was rarely expressive, but Naruto had expected fury after he ignored Danzo's explicit orders not to intervene in the invasion. He had even eliminated an entire Root squad meant to detain him. Naruto had braced for censure—a demotion or even execution. Instead, Danzo had listened impassively to his explanation, then dismissed him. No punishment. No wrath. Just, "I see. That will be all."

It was unnerving. Danzo never let things slide. That abrupt pass reeked of hidden motives. Naruto suspected that the old man had something deeper in mind—a new scheme or a far-reaching plot that might use Naruto's unique potential.

"You remain a puzzle piece in his grand design," Hikari observed softly. "Tread carefully."

He angled across a side street, heading toward an older district peppered with abandoned shops. The road was quiet, lined with cracked tile. He'd discovered that fewer passersby traveled here, so he could slip away from the throng of stares. Though many now viewed him in awe—a jarring shift from their earlier hatred—he wasn't comfortable with it.

"They never liked me before, so why act like they do now?" he thought, scowling. "Hypocrites."

He also recalled that the Hyūga seemed to have resumed their disdain after he severely injured Neji in the Chūnin Exam finals, scarring the left side of his face with a chakra chain. Not that Naruto lost sleep over it. The boy had provoked him relentlessly, mocking his old shoe-shining days and brandishing the Byakugan's arrogance. Naruto had reached his breaking point, inadvertently lashing out even after the proctor ended the match. The subsequent chaos had cost him official recognition. He was suspended—"disqualified," the council had said. His headband had been confiscated. The message was clear: The village might accept his power grudgingly, but they refused to condone that outburst.

He rubbed the back of his neck, pausing beneath a half-toppled awning. Some part of him felt mild regret. Maybe he'd gone too far with Neji. The memory of hearing that the Hyūga teen would bear permanent scarring stirred no real guilt, but a restlessness remained. He didn't enjoy random brutality. Yet Neji had practically demanded a beating with that condescending attitude.

Then there was Hinata's reaction—cold, distant, refusal to meet his eyes. He supposed it made sense. She was Neji's cousin, after all, and the clan's main branch would hardly overlook what he did. Naruto suspected she harbored complicated feelings, but he didn't care enough to investigate. Let her resent him. He had bigger concerns.

He pivoted, continuing on until he reached the older part of the village walls, where a well-worn gate led out to small fields on the outskirts. Jiraiya had arranged for them to meet at a particular inn in Shukuba Town for "research." Naruto inwardly rolled his eyes at that memory, but the Sannin's training was no joke. Despite Naruto's suspension, Jiraiya insisted on whisking him away from Konoha. "No point loitering around where half the council wants your head," he'd said, half-joking, half-serious. Naruto accepted. It was better than dealing with public accolades and the stink of hypocrisy.

"Now I'm stuck traveling with a super pervert," he thought, exasperation mixing with amusement. "At least we're not rotting in Konoha."

He hopped up the crumbling remains of a side wall, moving swiftly across rooftops, heading toward the meeting spot on the outskirts. Each leap was graceful, honed by years of Root training. That was another secret few knew: He'd been part of Danzo's covert faction for half a decade, performing deadly operations. Indeed, he'd grown from that wide-eyed child who ran away at age seven to survive in the Forest of Death, eventually returning to the village at nine, only to be roped into Root's clandestine world. He found it both harrowing and beneficial. The training had forged him into a skilled fighter, even if Danzo's loyalty was questionable.

Minato Namikaze out of his coma—Naruto sighed, letting the thought drift. He wasn't sure how to feel. He'd learned only recently that the Fourth Hokage, his adoptive father, had never actually died sealing the Kyuubi. Instead, for thirteen years, he'd languished in a comatose state, hidden away in some secret location. Then, apparently, as Orochimaru was sealed away by the Third's last gambit, something triggered Minato's revival. Naruto had never met the man, at least not consciously. So the prospect of meeting him now triggered a swirl of emotions he couldn't name.

"What do I even say to him?" he wondered. "He's basically a stranger."

Ichiro's resonant voice cut through his thoughts: "He may not share your blood, but you do owe him. He took you in, did he not?"

Naruto's lips tightened. Indeed, the village had kept his lineage under wraps. Then again, Minato being in a coma had not been involved in those decisions. The entire scenario was murky, overshadowed by manipulations from the Third and possibly Danzo.

He shook his head. No point unraveling that now. He'd handle it when he met Minato. For the moment, he had a mission to do—follow Jiraiya, presumably to find a "new Hokage." More like a pretext for Jiraiya's personal amusements.

He vaulted off the final rooftop, landing gracefully near Konoha's southwestern gate. Two Chūnin guards stiffened upon recognizing him, uncertain how to address him given his suspension. One fumbled a vague greeting, the other just stared, eyes flickering between awe and apprehension. Naruto offered a casual wave, not bothering to stop. He brushed past them into the open road, ignoring their hushed whispers.

"Whatever," he murmured, adjusting the strap of his small pack. "I'll see if the super perv is done with his business. Then we'll get moving."

Two hours later found Naruto in Shukuba Town, a place of bright signs, rowdy bars, discreet inns, and abundant hot springs—Jiraiya's paradise. He navigated crowded streets with practiced ease, ignoring the playful catcalls from some local girls. His face hardened. He had no interest in fleeting attention or shallow praise from strangers.

Slipping into a quiet inn near the edge of town, he approached the second-floor corridor. He half-expected Jiraiya to be out "researching," but was surprised to sense the man's chakra behind their shared room's door. Naruto slid it open to find Jiraiya sprawled across a low table, scribbling notes in a tattered scroll.

"Back so soon, brat?" Jiraiya said without looking up, the tip of his brush flicking ink over a half-finished page.

Naruto raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't I be the one saying that? Thought you'd be off leering at the springs."

Jiraiya snorted. "Not that I don't want to, but we have bigger priorities. Also, rumor has it the Hyūga might be sending someone to keep tabs on you, given your 'incident' with their precious prodigy. Better not stir the pot more."

Naruto shrugged, dropping his pack beside a wall. "Huh. Guess that's wise." He tossed a glance at the scattered notes. They seemed to reference travelers, possible sightings of Tsunade, leads on missing nin, and scribbles about "enjoyable spots." Typical Jiraiya, a mix of legitimate intel and personal whims.

"Did you secure our next route?" Naruto asked, settling cross-legged on the floor.

The Sannin put down his brush. "I did. We'll head west after dinner. The next town might be where Tsunade's rumored to be. But I suspect it'll be another false lead." He rubbed his temples. "We can't stay idle in Konoha, obviously. So we chase rumors."

Naruto nodded, expression neutral. He was curious about Tsunade—her medical prowess and rumored monstrous strength. But mostly, he was just eager to be away from Konoha's complicated politics.

Jiraiya's gaze flickered over Naruto. "How's your mood, brat? You've been walking around like you might kill someone for sneezing too loud."

A flicker of annoyance. "I'm fine," Naruto insisted. "I just hate how the villagers flip-flop. One moment, I'm scum. Now, I'm a hero. It's… irritating."

Jiraiya's demeanor softened. "Yeah, I remember that feeling from the Third War. Villagers are fickle. They'll hail you as a savior if it suits them, then turn on you in a heartbeat. Don't let it define you."

Naruto let out a quiet breath. "I won't. But it's disgusting."

Jiraiya gave a small nod. "Agreed. By the way, your mission status remains murky. Some members of the council still wants your blood for scarring that Hyūga. But the rest of the village is content letting you roam free since you effectively neutralized Gaara. That's a precarious spot you're in."

"I'm used to precarious," Naruto replied, face set. "Besides, if they wanted me locked up, I'd be locked up. Or dead."

A flash of pride shone in Jiraiya's eyes at that calm statement. "Attaboy," he said lightly. Then he coughed. "Anyway, we'll keep training while we search for Tsunade. I want to see what new talents you're itching to show off. I assume you want to hone your… what, illusions, advanced ninjutsu, your fox summons?"

Naruto stilled. "I told you: I don't summon foxes often. The watchers in the invasion saw enough. I'd rather keep some cards hidden."

Jiraiya grinned. "Clever. So what do you want to refine?"

Naruto's mind drifted to the conversation about the Akatsuki. "I want to master techniques that let me fight the strongest foes. I'm not content to wait for them. I'll hunt them if needed." He paused, a spark of fierce determination crossing his face. "I'm strong. Let's push it further."

Jiraiya's expression turned serious. "Your father—" He cut himself off, apparently unsure how to phrase it. "Minato would caution you not to chase enemies blindly."

Naruto bristled slightly. "Minato's not here. And the Third is gone, too."

The older man's face flickered with sadness. "Yes. The Third's passing was a blow, though you didn't share his direct guidance. He died trying to seal Orochimaru's soul, managing to sever Orochimaru's hold on certain cursed seals, apparently."

Naruto's gaze sharpened. "Right. I heard that from rumor. Might explain why Sayuri's curse mark is acting up, yeah?"

Jiraiya nodded. "Likely. If Orochimaru's spiritual presence was forcibly torn from all his scattered pieces, those cursed seals could destabilize. She's in the hospital… from what I gather, Kakashi's by her side. People say the mark flared like it was on fire. Then she collapsed."

Naruto exhaled quietly. "I see. Maybe my Kessetsugan's final pull on Orochimaru's essence contributed. Hard to say. I'd check on her if we weren't leaving. But I suppose she's in good hands. I hope that's the end of Orochimaru's hold on her."

He scowled, recalling the deadness in her eyes when the curse first manifested. She despised it. They'd never been close, but they'd been assigned as teammates after the last reorganization—alongside Sakura, who… He forced the memory away. The Forest of Death fiasco, Orochimaru murdering Sakura, it was a churn of conflicting guilt and fury. Enough.

"Anyway, sensei," Naruto resumed, "you're right about not staying idle. Let's do it." He rose, arms crossing. "We'll head west. I'll improve my skill set. Then, when the time is right, I'll take on these Akatsuki punks."

Jiraiya offered a small grin. "I expected you to say that. Fine. But we pace ourselves. That's final."

Naruto shrugged. "Sure. Where do we start?"

"In the hot springs," Jiraiya teased, wagging his eyebrows. "We'll do infiltration training—sneaking around, illusions, that kind of thing. Good practice. Then we move on. Might stay a day or two if it's fruitful."

Naruto rolled his eyes, though a corner of his mouth twitched in reluctant amusement. "Your infiltration training is basically you peeping on women. You realize that's basically a crime, right?"

"Ha! A small price for improving your skill, brat. Don't sell me short. The Meisaigakure no Jutsu is tricky. You'll refine advanced stealth. You want to chase down hidden enemies? Start with illusions." Jiraiya's grin was wholly unrepentant.

Naruto let out a resigned sigh. "Fine. But don't blame me if the women come at you with pitchforks."

"Deal." The Sannin stood, tucking away his notes. "We'll do it tomorrow morning. For now, let's get dinner."

The next morning, Naruto found himself perched on a stool behind a rickety divider at the local onsen, cloaked by the newly practiced Meisaigakure. Jiraiya, likewise invisible, sat beside him, scribbling notes in a battered notebook. The watery steam drifted around them, half-concealing the shapes of women drifting through the baths. Naruto focused on balancing his chakra carefully so as not to disrupt the camouflage.

He definitely felt stronger than when he used illusions months ago. Root training had hammered advanced infiltration into him, but Jiraiya's additions refined it even further. He was at ease controlling the intricacies, though he found it somewhat tedious. He could do bigger, flashier stuff. But infiltration was still valuable.

Jiraiya occasionally launched small jets of Suiton chakra to test Naruto's concentration. Naruto batted them aside with silent precision, ensuring the women didn't notice. He was determined not to slip up. He refused to look incompetent.

Yet his mind wandered to the swirl of events: The shift in the villagers' attitudes, the knowledge that Minato was out there somewhere, recovered from a thirteen-year slumber, Tsunade's rumored location, Akatsuki's shadow looming, and Danzo's cryptic acceptance of Naruto's insubordination. So many layers. He could sense tension coiling in his gut.

"Patience," Hikari's mental whisper soothed. "You have time to unravel these webs."

He huffed softly. That was easy for her to say—she was just an imprint. Meanwhile, he was stuck in a bathhouse, invisible, "training" with Jiraiya.

Eventually, Jiraiya decided to up the difficulty, sneaking small blasts of water that nearly grazed Naruto's shoulder. Naruto flicked them away with ephemeral chain tips he conjured under the illusions, an advanced trick with stealth. He felt mild satisfaction. He wasn't some bungling genin. He was a seasoned operative.

Then the entire fiasco ended abruptly when an overpowered water jet slammed into Naruto's calf—distracted by a sudden mental shift from Hikari—and nearly knocked him off the wooden shelf. He suppressed a yelp, chain illusions wavering.

He substituted with a chunk of tile outside. With a quiet pop, he appeared behind the onsen building, smoke dissipating in the morning sun. Dropping the invisibility, he cursed under his breath. "Damn it, sensei."

Still, his frustration vanished quickly. Jiraiya's training was better than living in the claustrophobic tension of Konoha. He'd glean more from the Sannin, harness that knowledge, and use it for his personal battles.

He took a moment to breathe, leaning against the bamboo fence. A swirl of guilt flickered—he'd overshadowed the Third's death with personal ambitions. But truthfully, he hadn't been close to Hiruzen. The old man had withheld secrets, patronized him. Naruto felt no deep sorrow. The man's passing was a big event for the village, yet for Naruto, it changed little. Except that Orochimaru was effectively sealed, and that apparently contributed to fracturing cursed seals everywhere, including Sayuri's.

"Focus," he told himself. He formed the Tiger seal and teleported to the men's changing area. Jiraiya was already there, fully dressed, leafing through his "research" notes.

"What took you so long, brat?" Jiraiya teased. "Thinking again?"

Naruto gave him a flat look. "Would you prefer I remain a mindless puppet?"

"Ha! Root training aside, I guess you do think a bit. Good." He slapped Naruto's shoulder. "Let's get out of this place. We've done enough infiltration training for the morning."

Naruto changed swiftly, ignoring Jiraiya's jibes about "clumsy illusions." Soon, they stepped onto Shukuba's main thoroughfare, a chaos of colorful signboards, hawkers, and travelers. The air smelled of sizzling food and perfume. Jiraiya ambled along, humming, while Naruto scanned the crowds on reflex, always watchful for hidden threats.

As they walked, Naruto asked, "So, sensei, next on the itinerary?"

Jiraiya nodded. "We'll hit the road soon. Gotta follow a tip that Tsunade might be in Tanzaku Town. If that's another dead end, we keep going."

Naruto, recalling Tsunade as the famed medical Sannin, wondered if she'd be open to returning as Hokage. He had no personal investment, but if it meant stabilizing the village and ensuring peace, that was fine. With the Third gone, the seat was vacant. Some recommended Jiraiya, but he insisted on Tsunade.

They paused at a food stall for quick lunch—rice balls, grilled fish. Naruto ate quietly, the restlessness still simmering in his chest. He thought about confronting the Akatsuki. Then about Minato's rumored consciousness. Then about Danzo. The swirl was endless.

Sometime later, they emerged from Shukuba Town's gates. The midday sun bore down, warm and persistent, but not oppressive. Jiraiya led the way, rummaging through a small map. "We have a good trek ahead. Expect a day or two of travel."

Naruto nodded, matching his stride. "Fine by me. The further from Konoha, the better."

The older man cast him a sidelong glance. "Still chafing at the hypocrisy?"

"Yeah," Naruto admitted curtly. He didn't elaborate. Jiraiya got the gist.

They traveled in relative silence, heading west along a dirt road that wound through rolling hills and occasional farmsteads. Naruto used the time to reflect on advanced ninjutsu theories and infiltration methods. Hikari's voice gently praised his commitment, while Ichiro occasionally inserted warnings about arrogance. He balanced them out, forging his own path.

They reached a secluded clearing by late afternoon. Jiraiya decided to camp. He busied himself pitching a small tent. Naruto built a quick fire with precise elemental control. No need to show off; just a neat spark of wind-chakra friction.

As they settled around the crackling flames, Jiraiya produced a battered flask. Naruto declined. He wasn't in the mood for sake. Instead, he leaned back, arms behind his head, eyes scanning the deepening sky.

He recalled the last tense meeting with Danzo in a dimly lit Root chamber. The old man's voice echoing in quiet disapproval: "You defied direct orders, used lethal force on our own. Yet I see no reason to punish you now. Continue your training with Jiraiya. That is all." Naruto had half-expected a hidden blade to his throat, but Danzo let him walk out. The memory made him uneasy.

"He's planning something," Naruto told himself. "But I can't fixate on that now."

"Still awake, brat?" Jiraiya's voice broke the quiet. The Sannin sipped from his flask, eyes reflecting the fire's glow.

"Yeah." Naruto watched the flames dance. "Thinking about stuff."

"Oh, more thinking, huh?" Jiraiya teased lightly, then his tone grew pensive. "Look, Naruto… about Danzo. I know he's your Root boss or whatever. Be careful. He's not someone to trust too freely."

Naruto huffed a short laugh. "Trust me, I don't trust him."

"Good." Jiraiya exhaled. "And about your father… if you do cross paths soon, it might be complicated. Don't let it disrupt your progress. Take it slow."

Naruto's gaze flicked up to the star-laden sky. "Not sure how to handle that. But I guess I'll figure it out. Meeting him… I don't even know if I want to. I'm just curious. That's all."

"Curiosity is fine," Jiraiya said softly. "He's… well, I can't speak for him. But I knew him better than anyone. He's a good man."

Naruto offered no response, mind drifting. It felt surreal that Minato was alive after all these years. If or when they met, would it matter? Naruto's entire identity was shaped by the village's scorn, by raising himself alone, by secret Root missions, by illusions with Otsutsuki parents guiding him. A father seemed almost extraneous.

They sat in silence, each lost in separate thoughts. The night deepened, the fire crackling. Eventually, Naruto closed his eyes, leaning on a log. Sleep beckoned. Jiraiya, still sipping sake, scribbled a final note. The hush of the forest enveloped them.

The next day, they continued west, forging through forest paths and crossing small streams. Jiraiya occasionally paused to question travelers about a "certain someone who might excel in gambling." The answers varied, but a rumor suggested Tsunade might have been spotted near Tanzaku Town indeed. They pressed on with renewed purpose.

Late afternoon found them on the outskirts of another hot springs resort. Naruto leveled a suspicious glare at Jiraiya. The older man laughed. "What? We're investigating! She loves gambling spots, right?"

Naruto grunted. "Sure," stepping aside as a horse-drawn cart rumbled by. The place was less flamboyant than Shukuba Town but still offered amusements. Jiraiya insisted they check the local inns.

They parted ways temporarily. Naruto scouted from rooftop vantage points—quiet infiltration ironically used for fairly mundane recon. Nothing suspicious emerged. He heard no mention of Tsunade. Perhaps they'd find nothing again.

He regrouped with Jiraiya in an empty alley behind a tea shop. The Sannin wore a wry smile. "No sign of her here. Another dead end. We'll keep going tomorrow."

Naruto shrugged. "Fine. Let's get a meal. I'm starving."

They ended up at a modest restaurant, eating simple ramen and grilled vegetables. Naruto's mind drifted to possible training regimens. He wanted to refine his chain usage, pushing it to the next level. The thought of capturing an Akatsuki assassin with his Adamantine chains was strangely thrilling.

After dinner, they strolled back toward their inn, a modest two-story building by a quiet lane. Jiraiya stretched. "I might do some reading tonight. Try to parse more leads about Tsunade."

Naruto nodded, scanning the dimly lit street. "I'll handle watch duty. Not that we expect trouble."

As they reached the inn's front, a raven-haired woman in a low-cut dress stepped out, her posture languid and inviting. Jiraiya's eyes gleamed. Naruto resisted rolling his eyes, recognizing that look. He coughed. "Sensei, focus?"

But the woman cast a sultry glance, beckoning Jiraiya with a casual wave. The Sannin flashed an eager grin. "Heh, might be more leads to glean." He leaned toward Naruto. "Be flexible, kid. I'll just gather some 'information' real quick."

Naruto let out a long-suffering sigh. "Sure, sensei," he said, privately amused. He stepped aside, deciding to let the old man chase his whims. He'd just head inside, maybe do a bit of chakra refining. That was his routine anyway.

Jiraiya followed the woman across the lane. Naruto, crossing his arms, watched him vanish into the shadows, presumably on the cusp of another short escapade. Sometimes, Naruto couldn't fathom the man's stamina for "research." But he couldn't deny Jiraiya's efficacy as a teacher, either.

---

Land of Demons

Minato Namikaze awoke to a ceiling that felt entirely unfamiliar, yet the faint scent of antiseptics and medicinal herbs tickled his nose, reminding him of the countless times he had visited injured comrades in makeshift field wards. He opened his eyes slowly, letting his vision adjust to the weak glow of lantern light flickering against walls made not of standard Konoha plaster, but of dark, polished wood bearing foreign etchings. The grain of that timbered ceiling seemed too smooth, too ornate to be of Leaf Village origin. Disoriented, he drew a deep breath, inhaling an air tinged with mountain chill and a faint incense he could not name.

A clatter in the corner drew his attention. Turning his head, he spotted a figure with pale blonde hair pinned up in twin tails, wearing a green haori draped over a sleeveless shirt. Recognition flickered at the edge of his memory: Tsunade, the famed Sannin. She stood abruptly, nearly knocking her stool aside, and hurried to his bedside. The expression on her face wavered between shock and joy, and her eyes shone with a depth of relief that felt almost personal.

"Well this is a surprise…" Tsunade whispered, her voice husky. "You're awake." She carefully bent over him, pressing two fingers to his wrist to check his pulse.

Minato swallowed, trying to speak. His mouth felt dry, as though he hadn't used it for ages. When he finally managed to force words out, they emerged in a raspy croak. "Where… am I?" His throat burned, and he coughed once, clearing away some of the hoarseness.

Tsunade exhaled shakily, forming a small green glow in her palm. "You're safe in a remote sanctuary inside the Land of Demons. A hidden complex where I've been… tending to you. Take a moment to breathe. I've kept you alive for thirteen years, Minato."

Thirteen years. The phrase rattled in his ears as he tried to sit up, but Tsunade pressed him back gently. He could feel the weakness in his limbs, muscles that had apparently lain dormant. "Thirteen years…?" he repeated, heart pounding. "How is that… why would I—?"

He paused, mind flooding with images: the night the Nine-Tails attacked, Kushina screaming, the swirling storm of malevolent chakra. Then a flash of pain, Kushina's tearful face, and blackness. He recalled intending to perform the Reaper Death Seal that night, sacrificing himself to contain the fox. But obviously, something else had happened.

Tsunade's lips tightened. "Let me explain. You were delivered to me in dire condition. I was out of Konoha by then, traveling after certain… losses. When they carried your comatose body to me, your vitals were faint, your chakra nearly snuffed out. They told me you were the Fourth Hokage and a hero who saved the village from the Nine-Tails. But—"

Minato's heart leapt. "The Nine-Tails. Did I…? Did the jutsu work? I was going to seal it in… Wait—Kushina. Where is…?" He tried to speak further, but his chest constricted, as though the mere mention of her name threatened to unravel him.

Gently, Tsunade placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Please, slow down. You mustn't push too hard yet. Let me go step by step, or you'll aggravate yourself." Her voice softened, sincerity brimming within it. "That night, thirteen years ago, it was your intention to give up your life to seal the Nine-Tails, correct?"

Minato nodded, staring at her through wide, anxious eyes.

"Well," Tsunade continued, taking a moment to gather her thoughts, "it turns out Kushina prevented you from finishing that seal on yourself. According to the accounts delivered to me, she knocked you unconscious just before you performed it. She took your place, using some apparatus or advanced seal technique to handle the Reaper Death Seal herself. In short, she bound half of the Nine-Tails into your newborn daughter, Mito, and took the other half with her… into the Shinigami's belly."

Minato felt his lungs seize. "Kushina did what?"

Tsunade's voice trembled with empathy. "She died that same night, Minato, sacrificing herself to ensure the Nine-Tails would be contained. At least, that's what we were told. She must have known you intended to sacrifice your life, so she made the choice instead. It was… her final act of love, I suppose, to protect you and to protect your children."

Minato's hands clenched around the sheets. The swirl of heartbreak cut so deeply he nearly forgot to breathe. "Children," he repeated numbly. "Kushina… Mito… Naruto…. I remember that night so vividly. I'd left him somewhere safe, or so I thought." Each recollection was a dagger of guilt. "She must have decided to save me and Mito because…" His voice trailed off. A wave of grief slammed into him, tightening his throat. He blinked back tears, forcing himself to remain in the present. "But… how did I end up in a coma, then? If she prevented me from performing the seal… what happened to me specifically?"

Tsunade sighed. "When they found you, your body was battered, your chakra threads nearly severed, but you still had a faint pulse. Possibly, the shock of everything that happened—the partial sealing you began, the recoil of the Nine-Tails' power, and Kushina's intervention—threw your system into catastrophic shutdown. It left you physically alive but… vacant. I tried every medical trick I knew for the next thirteen years, but nothing woke you. Your body looked… well, it looked more and more frail every passing year, as though it was aging yet… not truly alive. More like a husk."

Minato's mind spun. He looked down at his hands. They appeared youthful, hardly the hands of a man who had wasted away for over a decade. "But I'm… not frail now," he remarked, voice trembling. "I feel a bit weak, sure, but it's like my muscles are intact. My skin…" He lifted his palm, marveling at the smoothness. "It's like I'm… still in my twenties."

Tsunade nodded, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Exactly what's baffling me. A week ago, while Shizune and I performed our routine check, your body suddenly began to glow with intense chakra. It was completely unprecedented. In a matter of minutes, your atrophied muscles regenerated. You physically regressed to the exact state you were in the night you collapsed—twenty-four years old, no sign of advanced aging, no sign of the decay I'd spent so long trying to stave off. Then you stabilized. Two days later, your vitals spiked to normal. I thought you might awaken immediately, but it took a few more days. Now… here you are, awake. Healthy."

Silence fell, broken only by the drip of an IV line. Minato struggled to reconcile that thirteen years had passed. "But where… is this place? And why here, not in Konoha's hospital?"

She gazed around at the room's wooden walls, the runic patterns carved in certain panels. "We're in a secure compound in the Land of Demons, protected by wards and illusions that hide us from prying eyes. The Third Hokage had arranged it. You see, after the Nine-Tails incident, your body was delivered to me in secrecy. Hiruzen—Lord Third—believed it was safer to keep your survival hidden. Part of it was political. Another part was to shield you from threats that might arise, especially if word got out that the Yondaime was somehow alive but incapacitated. So, I took you under my care, traveling with you at times, and eventually settling here for the last few years. Shizune assisted me, and we also had to raise… your daughter, Mito."

Minato's throat constricted. "Mito," he echoed, blinking tears from the corners of his eyes. He recalled the last glimpses of his newborn girl, not even a day old, so small in Kushina's arms. "She's alive then? She's… thirteen now?"

A faint smile touched Tsunade's lips. "Yes. She's alive, and quite the spirited one. She's about to turn thirteen. I took her with me from infancy, wanting to keep her safe from anyone who might covet the Nine-Tails' power. She grew up calling me her baachan or occasionally mom, though I never told her the full truth about her parentage. She knows she's adopted though. We never wanted her to bear the burden of being the Nine-Tails' host so openly. So, we stayed away from the Leaf. Only a few people know Mito's true identity. We've lived on the move, performing small medical services or private jobs to keep afloat. About five years ago, I established this place for a more permanent base. She's well, Minato. She's become a bright, caring young girl with red-blonde hair—a perfect blend of you and Kushina."

Minato closed his eyes, letting the sting of tears roll down his cheeks. His chest ached with conflicting waves of relief and heartbreak. Thirteen years stolen from him, thirteen years of Mito's life he never witnessed, all while Kushina had given her own life. "Kushina…" he began softly, voice quivering. "She's truly…?"

Tsunade's expression revealed the sorrow in her heart. "Yes, she's gone. She took half the Nine-Tails with her into the Reaper's belly. There's no coming back from that. In the chaos of that night, Mito ended up sealed with the other half, and you… well, you were found comatose. They believed you were effectively dead, but the Third discovered a faint sign of life. He turned to me for help. That's how we got here."

Minato swallowed thickly, hugging the scratchy hospital blanket to his chest. "I see." Every muscle trembled with unshed grief. "She knocked me out. She used the Reaper Death Seal on herself to save me. Typical Kushina," he whispered, a melancholic smile ghosting his lips. "She always said she'd do anything to protect me and our children."

The room hushed, Tsunade giving him time to process. After a few moments, Minato cleared his throat, voice tremulous. "And… Naruto? He was two at the time. Did he—?"

Tsunade nodded. "Yes. Naruto survived. As per the Third's arrangement, Naruto was left in Konoha, though it wasn't public knowledge that he was your adopted son. The Third made certain details an S-rank secret—Naruto's Jinchuuriki nature… well, it seems that part might differ here since Mito got half the fox. But still, Naruto was rumored to contain some special Kyuubi related power. In any case, the villagers were told only enough to keep them from prying. He grew up an orphan, I'm afraid, but from what I've gathered, he's now one of Konoha's shinobi. He's training under Jiraiya, last I heard. And apparently, he's thriving, in his own spirited way."

A fleeting warmth stirred in Minato's chest. "Naruto's alive. So he's about fifteen now? Doing missions, developing as a ninja?"

"More or less," Tsunade said, nodding. "I've been away from the Leaf, so I don't have daily updates, but Jiraiya pops in occasionally. He brags about your boy's progress, especially how Naruto can now summon toads, even Gamabunta." She offered a small grin. "He's become quite the determined shinobi, from the sound of it."

Minato's mind spun, picturing a teen version of that rambunctious child he'd known—adopted as a baby, loved as his own. "So… the Kyuubi was split. Mito has half, Naruto presumably gained some portion or maybe its chakra…? I don't recall. It's complicated." He frowned, pressing a hand to his temple. "I'm missing details."

Tsunade reached out, gently placing a palm over Minato's shaky hand. "Don't push yourself. There's a lot we still don't fully understand about that night. So much chaos and secrecy. All we know is that Mito ended up with part of the Nine-Tails, and Naruto carried a variant of its chakra. The specifics are hazy. But rest assured, they're both alive and forging their own paths."

Sighing, Minato inhaled the stale hospital air. Despite the avalanche of revelations, one question burned in his mind. "Why did I awaken now? After all these years?"

Tsunade's golden-brown eyes flickered with uncertainty. "That's the biggest mystery. My medical ninjutsu had zero effect all these years. Yet last week, your body spontaneously began rejuvenating, reversing time on your tissues. I was terrified it might be some curse, but it stabilized. Then your vitals soared, and you looked… well, exactly like you do now. I can only guess that something triggered it. Perhaps a foreign seal or a failsafe embedded by Kushina or even the Reaper Death Seal itself. I don't know. None of my knowledge can explain a literal rollback of thirteen years of decay in a single afternoon."

Minato stared at the bandages around his arms, the faint lingering dryness on his skin. "I guess we'll have to figure that out."

"Yes." Tsunade gave him a small, reassuring grin. "At least you're healthy, physically stable. We've monitored your chakra flow the last few days. It's strong, consistent with your prime. No sign of mental deficits aside from some initial confusion. And your reflexes… well, the next few days we'll test them properly."

A swirl of gratitude coiled in Minato's chest. He gazed at Tsunade, the famed medical Sannin, who had apparently dedicated years to preserving him. "Thank you," he whispered, voice trembling with earnestness. "For everything. I can't imagine the burden of caring for a comatose man, let alone raising my daughter. You've given me… a second chance."

Tsunade's expression softened. "Don't mention it. I… well, I did it for you, for Kushina, for Konoha. And Mito's like a daughter to me. She'll be thrilled to see you awake."

He swallowed, feeling tears threaten. "I'd like to see her as soon as possible."

"She's currently outside the compound with Shizune, gathering supplies. We'll bring her here the moment they return. But first, you need to rest and acclimate. This environment might be jarring for you." She cast her gaze around the dimly lit room with its foreign symbols carved into the wood. "We're far from Konoha, but we have a small security detail. Mito's safety is paramount. We've been living in seclusion. I'll figure out how to break the news to her that you're awake."

Minato nodded, absorbing each piece of news. "And… the Third Hokage? You said he died. When was that?"

Tsunade sighed. "Reportedly, a week ago, Orochimaru infiltrated Konoha, orchestrating an invasion. The Third gave his life in battle, performing a Reaper Death Seal of his own to rid the village of Orochimaru's threat. The details are still incomplete, but word eventually reached me that Hiruzen perished heroically, though Orochimaru was apparently sealed or destroyed in the process. This might be part of the reason your body awakened now—some cosmic link severed by Orochimaru's demise. That's just speculation, but who knows?"

Minato felt a lump form in his throat. "The Third… gone. He was the one who rescued me from that fate, ironically, and stowed me here. He was always looking out for the village. So that leaves Konoha without a Hokage?"

Tsunade hesitated, swallowing. "Officially, yes. Jiraiya was offered the position, as far as I know, but he refused. He set out to find me, ironically. But I was… unavailable. I suspect they ended up installing someone else temporarily. There's talk of searching for a fifth Hokage candidate. Konoha is in flux right now."

Minato's mind churned with possible ramifications. "So, the Leaf is vulnerable." A wave of guilt thrummed within him—he, the Fourth Hokage, was nowhere to be found during the village's darkest hours. But logic reminded him that it wasn't his fault. He'd been practically dead. "I see. And you've chosen to remain away from the village, presumably to keep Mito safe and my condition secret."

Tsunade's lips curved in a faint grin. "That, and personal reasons. I wasn't exactly on good terms with the elders. My leaving was also partly due to certain heartbreaks of my own. But that's a long story. Right now, focus on your healing."

Minato nodded, adjusting his position in the bed. Though physically rejuvenated, his muscles felt stiff, as if unaccustomed to movement after so long. A burning question stirred in him, one that stoked both fear and longing: "Tsunade… about Naruto… you said Jiraiya was training him?"

She nodded. "Yes. Jiraiya spotted him at some point, recognized his potential, and took him under his wing. He's been traveling, presumably teaching the boy advanced jutsu, including the Toad Summoning technique. Jiraiya visits me from time to time, though he remains elusive about Naruto's exact whereabouts. Probably for the boy's own safety."

Minato pressed a trembling hand to his temple. "All this time, I wanted to watch him grow. I promised I'd raise him, even if he wasn't biologically mine. He was only a toddler. Now he's a teenager."

Tsunade sighed with empathy. "I know it's overwhelming. So much has changed. But he's alive, learning, forging his path. When the time is right, you can reunite with him. Right now, though, let's handle your reentry into the world one step at a time. You need to process what happened to Kushina, reconnect with Mito, come to terms with how the Leaf might react to your sudden return. Not everyone will believe you're truly Minato right away."

He understood the caution. "Hence why you're concealing me here in the Land of Demons."

"Precisely. This compound is discrete, under illusions fueled by local priestesses who owe me some favors. We keep minimal staff. Outside, the terrain is rugged, wards are in place, and we can see approaching threats miles away. Once you're stable, you can decide your next move. Whether to appear in Konoha or remain hidden, that's your choice."

He inhaled, letting the raw swirl of emotions settle. "First, I want to see Mito. Then… I want to see Naruto. My children deserve the truth. Kushina's sacrifice shouldn't remain a secret. And if I can serve the Leaf again, I will. Even if they suspect me of being some resurrected puppet. I owe it to them."

Tsunade placed a comforting hand over his. "We'll navigate those waters together. I promise."

He pressed his lips, a fleeting tear escaping. "Thank you, Tsunade." Gratitude welled in him, a flicker of warmth amid sorrow. The journey ahead would be arduous. Reclaiming a life stolen by thirteen years of coma. Dealing with a daughter he'd never watched grow, a son whose childhood he missed, a village missing its Third and hammered by invasion. But at least he was alive, in full health by some miracle.

Tsunade offered him a small canteen. "Sip water. Your throat is probably parched. We can talk more later. For now, let me see if I can track down Mito. She'll want to be the first to greet you properly."

He took the canteen, swallowing a mouthful that soothed the dryness. Then he asked softly, "Before you go… can you tell me about her? My daughter. Mito… what is she like?"

Tsunade's eyes lit with a gentle fondness. "She's strong-willed, determined to prove herself worthy. She's got your knack for sealing arts—no surprise, given how that half of the Nine-Tails is locked inside her. She can be brash like Kushina, but with your calm intelligence shining through in her quieter moments. She loves to spar, dreams of becoming a formidable kunoichi. Always pestering me to let her see the world. She's… quite extraordinary, Minato."

He blinked, tears threatening again. "I can't wait to see her," he whispered, heart twisting in longing for a child he'd never known. "You said you told her about me, but… but not that I was her father?"

Tsunade nodded solemnly. "Yes. She knows the broad strokes—that you were the Fourth Hokage, believed lost in the Nine-Tails incident. I felt it was kinder to let her grow up without hoping for a father who might never wake. I never let her forget your name, though. She admires you as a hero she never met. This… it's going to be quite a shock."

Minato's throat constricted with emotion. "I'll handle it. I just… want to be a father to her now, in whatever way I can."

Tsunade gave his shoulder a light squeeze, then stepped back. "Rest. I'll arrange for some soup, then see if I can expedite Mito's return. It might be a day or two, depending on how far along they are with errands. But I'll send word right away."

Minato murmured a grateful thanks. Tsunade slipped toward the door, her footfalls echoing on the wooden floor. He watched her go, absorbing the hush that settled in her wake. The intricately carved patterns around the walls glinted with faint chakra—no doubt part of the wards or illusions. He sank deeper into the bed, letting his muscles relax.

Once alone, Minato allowed the tears to flow freely. The swirl of tragedy, relief, confusion—thirteen lost years, a wife gone, children grown. He pressed his face into his hand, stifling a sob. The last time he had been conscious, he was preparing to sacrifice himself for the village. Now the village had endured so much without him. And Kushina…

He inhaled raggedly, remembering that final moment: Kushina's tearful face, the desperate apology, then blackness. She must have used the Reaper Death Seal in his stead. The heartbreak threatened to consume him. Yet he refused to succumb. If she gave her life to preserve his, to raise Mito, and to keep hope alive for Naruto, he would not dishonor her memory by collapsing in despair.

No, he told himself, clenching his fists. I'll live. I'll do everything I can. For her, for Mito, for Naruto, for the Leaf. That vow steadied his breathing.

Time drifted. Distant thunder rumbled beyond the compound's walls. The weariness in his body reminded him of the coma's aftermath. Even if his form had been restored to a youthful state, it would take mental fortitude to reacclimate. Slowly, he let exhaustion lull him toward a half-sleep. Vague images filled his mind—Kushina's warm smile, Mito's infant wails, Naruto's boisterous giggle as a toddler. A swirl of love, regret, and determination kept him teetering between tears and fragile hope.

---

He didn't realize he had dozed until Tsunade's voice roused him. The lanterns burned brighter now, indicating that some hours had passed. A tray of steaming broth sat on a small bedside table. Tsunade approached quietly, checking his temperature with a clinical hand to his forehead.

"You look calmer," she noted, soft sympathy in her tone.

Minato nodded, carefully pushing himself upright. The ache in his body still lingered, but it felt more manageable. "I needed a moment to process. Thank you for leaving me to rest."

She slid the tray closer. "Drink the soup. It's a simple herb mix to help rebuild your strength. You'll need actual food soon, but we'll start gently. How are you feeling, physically?"

Minato sipped the broth, a warm, savory flavor that soothed his empty stomach. "Sore… but oddly rejuvenated. My chakra feels strong, though it's a bit disjointed—like I have to reacquaint myself with controlling it. The flexibility in my arms and legs is decent for someone who's apparently been bedridden for thirteen years. But my stamina might need testing."

Tsunade nodded. "All normal. The phenomenon that restored your body took care of the muscle wasting, but you must reacclimate to the motion. Try some basic range-of-motion exercises tomorrow. I'll supervise. We don't want you pulling a tendon."

He swallowed another spoonful, letting the warmth spread through him. "Agreed. Thank you, Tsunade. And… not just for the medical help. For taking care of Mito, for all these years."

A faint blush crept across her cheeks. "She's easy to care for, once you get past her spirited attitude. She's got a mouth on her, especially when she's itching for adventure." A wry smile curved her lips. "Reminds me a bit of Kushina, in that way."

Minato's chest tightened. The mention of Kushina's name no longer stung as sharply, but it remained a tender wound. "I can't wait to see her. I wonder what she'll say, meeting me after all this time."

Tsunade huffed a gentle laugh. "She might be a little starstruck or furious you weren't there. Hard to say. Either way, it'll be emotional." She paused, then added, "We can discuss how best to reveal everything. She's known bits and pieces, but not the full story about that night."

"I understand," he murmured. "I'll be patient."

They fell into comfortable silence. The hiss of a far-off wind outside the hidden compound lulled them. Minato continued sipping his soup, occasionally glancing at Tsunade's pensive expression. She seemed lost in thought, perhaps reliving painful memories of Konoha or her own personal tragedies. He recalled how she had left the village following Dan's death, how heartbreak shaped her path. That she had found the resolve to care for him—and Mito—was a testament to her kindness and sense of duty.

Eventually, Tsunade cleared her throat. "Tomorrow, I'll run some more tests. Bloodwork, chakra conduction analysis. I want to be sure there's no hidden factor that could harm you or place you under someone else's control."

At the mention of Orochimaru, Minato's lips pressed into a thin line. "I heard you say earlier that Orochimaru was responsible for the Third's death. So, he was still causing havoc all those years?"

Tsunade nodded grimly. "Yes. He left Konoha after his vile experiments were discovered. Then he orchestrated an invasion with the Sound Village. Sarutobi-sensei confronted him, using the Reaper Death Seal. It ended both their lives. I don't know all the details, but apparently, Orochimaru was sealed away. That might be how you ended up…awake."

Minato clenched his spoon. "That fiend… If only I'd been there. The Third might still be alive." Guilt etched his face. "But I suppose there's no sense dwelling on that now."

Tsunade placed a comforting hand over his forearm. "You had no control over this, Minato. Let's focus on the future. Once you're fully recovered, we can decide how you want to move forward—whether to reach out to Jiraiya, or quietly test your presence in Konoha. Mito's priority. Naruto's too, if you wish to see him."

He inhaled, nodding. "Yes. Thank you, Tsunade." Slowly, he finished the soup, exhaustion creeping in again. Tsunade wordlessly took the empty bowl, setting it aside.

"You should rest more," she advised. "You'll need plenty of recovery time. I'll come by in the morning with Shizune, see if we can get you walking a bit."

Minato offered a gentle smile, eyes still bright with a swirl of emotion. "I appreciate it."

She gave him a final, encouraging nod, then slipped out of the room. The lantern's flame flickered, casting dancing shadows across the wooden carvings. With a weary sigh, Minato let his head sink into the pillows, mind roiling with all he had learned.

---

Hotel Room

The lock gave a subdued clack as Naruto secured the door of the cramped inn chamber. Steadying himself, he summoned three shadow clones with an effortless sequence of seals. The first clone abruptly adopted the Henge transformation, masquerading itself as a rather innocuous wooden chair near the entryway. Without delay, the second clone plopped onto this conjured seat, arms folded. Meanwhile, the third clone took a position on the narrow bed, crossing its legs in a posture reminiscent of a meditative monk.

Naruto, the original, pressed his back against a worn-out side wall. He inhaled deeply, exhaled in a slow, measured breath, and let a distinct sensation wash across his skin—like a delicate film of chakra sliding over his body. He recognized this as the subtle effect of the Meisaigakure camouflage. Silently, he commended himself for the disciplined control that allowed him to hide even from experienced eyes.

With the room now in a heightened state of vigilance, he glanced toward the tall, smudged window overlooking the bustling street below. When Jiraiya had parted company earlier, he had murmured about a mysterious vibe in the vicinity. Possibly an enemy shinobi or a spurious presence out to thwart their progress on the ongoing "Search for the Next Hokage." Perhaps it was an assassin trying to eliminate Jiraiya, the famed Sannin and Konoha's spymaster. Naruto scowled at the notion.

Not for the first time, a bristle of excitement laced with exasperation tugged at his nerves. Akatsuki—the organization that had haunted him since childhood—remained a prime suspect each time something ominous stirred. Naruto had foreseen an eventual confrontation with them, but he had assumed it would erupt out of nowhere, accompanied by blood, swirling dust, and catastrophic jutsu, not tiptoeing behind polite knocks or discreet movements.

He reminded himself that Jiraiya would be near enough to respond if this escalated. Jiraiya, after all, was no novice. Even so, the sense of powerlessness to act at that precise moment riled Naruto. Reflexively, the presence of the Nine-Tails chakra in the pit of his chakra network, and he took pains to clamp down on the destructive aura. He didn't want a random infiltration inside an inn to devolve into a fox-fueled rampage that might harm innocents next door.

Several minutes ticked by, each second lengthening beneath the hush in the room. Naruto flicked a glance toward the door. A quiet mental countdown started: one minute, two, three… The intangible tension made the waiting all the worse, as though he were gambling with fate over who might breach his door next. Then, unexpectedly, a double knock shattered his attempt at calm.

Two knocks? he wondered incredulously. If an invader truly arrived, would they greet so politely? The chair-posing clone angled its head warily as the second clone rose, stealthily brandishing a kunai behind its back.

Naruto exhaled, letting a brief wave of the Nine-Tails' energy seep into his limbs. S-rank threat or not, he thought, I'm ready to show them my progress.

The clone turned the knob and cracked open the door. Before it could react further, an abrupt hush ensued—the vantage from the illusions told Naruto precisely why. A pair of mesmerizing red eyes peered beyond the threshold: Uchiha Itachi, his silhouette framed by the partial glow of the corridor's lantern. Time seemed to warp as those dreaded Sharingan orbs swept the small space, instantly penetrating Naruto's camouflage technique and seizing the clone's ephemeral gaze.

Naruto's heart hammered. He recognized those eyes as the same that had haunted his nightmares for years—eyes that had confronted him after the Uchiha Massacre. The man's face was as sharply defined as ever, framed by raven hair parted into neat edges. A black cloak trimmed with scarlet clouds draped him from shoulders to shins, the emblem of the Akatsuki embroidered onto the cloth.

Itachi greeted with disarming civility, "Its been a while, Naruto. I need you to come with me?"

Those words echoed with the subtle assurance that it wasn't a mere request. Memories assaulted Naruto's mind: the year of training, the catastrophic events Itachi's presence had once heralded, the warnings whispered so long ago about shadowy conspirators who lusted for his demise. The man who had delivered that cryptic message stood in front of him once again, ironically the very one tasked with hunting him.

They seek to use you, that stoic voice had once declared. The final piece of that puzzle was now laid out: the original "they" had included Itachi all along.

Yet Naruto, though he had fleeting recollections of a tumultuous last encounter, refused to quake under the moment's gravity. He'd advanced significantly, both physically and mentally, since that horrifying night, and he wasn't the same frightened boy. The mere presence of Itachi triggered old tensions, but Naruto's thirst to pit his skills against a formidable opponent overshadowed any latent terror.

Without deigning to speak, Naruto hurled a swirling Rasengan into the flimsy wall behind him, employing the technique's recoil to propel himself through the building's outer boundary. Splinters and plaster exploded outward into the midair gloom. Meanwhile, the three clones shot forward from different angles, each brandishing wind-charged blades.

Naruto soared into the night's open sky, scanning rapidly. The ephemeral impressions from his clones' vantage poured into his consciousness, revealing the lightning-fast exchange inside. For all his cunning, Itachi moved with inhuman grace, subduing two clones in the blink of an eye. A twinge of adrenaline spurred Naruto's own desire to engage.

He landed softly on a stretch of cobblestone walkway outside the inn, ignoring the fleeting stares of startled villagers. The pale lamplight illuminated the area, throwing his silhouette across the pavement. He formed a crisp cross seal, conjuring three more shadow clones in swirling puffs of smoke. The first dashed through a practiced sequence of hand motions—Rat, Tiger, Dog—releasing a potent Wind Release: Air Bullets technique that howled through the open thoroughfare.

From the large opening in the inn's damaged wall, Itachi emerged with an otherworldly composure. Reacting fluidly, he sidestepped the pressurized air blasts, pivoting directly into the path of a second clone lunging at him with a short sword humming from wind-natured chakra. The slender blade extended in an arc of swirling gust around the steel's tip.

Leaping from above, the third clone launched a swirling ball of condensed chakra: the Rasengan.

Itachi's smooth voice declared, "You've refined your approach, Naruto." He tilted away from one slash, allowing the lethal blade to pass by a hair's breadth. "Danzo's training, I presume?"

Naruto, from his vantage, grunted. He wasn't surprised. Itachi apparently had knowledge that he'd been shaped by the underhanded Root regime.

With minimal movements, the Uchiha engaged the second clone, deftly parrying its slash while launching a quick pivot to misdirect the Rasengan-laden attack. The third clone forcibly collided with a side table that splintered in the street corner, while the second clone found itself undone by a well-placed dagger that Itachi flicked from beneath his sleeve.

A flicker of swirling ninjutsu flared from Naruto's vantage—the final ephemeral memories of the second clone indicated a hidden counter. So that's the style he's used to overshadow lesser shinobi, Naruto mused, not with fear but with building excitement.

Undaunted, Naruto flipped through the air and landed a short distance from the man in black. He let the Nine-Tails' aura saturate him up to the point of forming a faint shimmering around his silhouette, further amplifying the lethal wind affinity he favored.

"You've made progress," Itachi observed, eyeing Naruto carefully. "But caution is still wise."

Naruto shrugged, a grin curling his lips. "I'm done hiding from challenges, especially ones who try to appear polite about abductions. Are you sure you want to do this, Itachi? I've been itching to test how far I've come."

Itachi simply responded by raising his gaze. "I came to find you earlier at the village but encountered your sensei. Kakashi and his group tried to bar my way, which left him in critical condition."

At that revelation, Naruto's chest momentarily tightened. He forced himself to remain composed. "So that's what you were up to," he murmured. "Is Kakashi…"

"He won't awaken anytime soon," Itachi replied. A subtle calmness underscored the grim reality.

Naruto's jaw clenched as he processed the blow. Despite this, an undercurrent of boldness made him retort, "Maybe you're proud of that. Let me guess, you want to drag me away for your Akatsuki plan?"

"Straight to business," the rogue Uchiha murmured. "But first, there is something else. Danzo's done well forging your current strengths. I see no trace of shock that I'd know such details."

Naruto's eyes gleamed with acknowledgment. "You're not the only one with hidden sources. That's enough talk. I want to see if you can handle what I've become."

Itachi paused, his scarlet gaze seeming to intensify. "When we parted, I told you about Madara and Akatsuki. You've stayed alive, which suits me well. Has Madara contacted you himself?"

"Funny you mention that," Naruto returned, voice dropping. "I crossed paths with a masked man five years back, right after your… clan's tragedy. He claimed to be Madara, apparently. We had an 'exchange' that left me with deeper suspicions than answers. He also indicated that he's fully aware I'm not the real Nine-Tails jinchuriki."

Itachi's eyes flickered, betraying a hint of genuine surprise. "So, he withheld that from the Akatsuki. Intriguing. Perhaps even my colleagues remain ignorant. He's orchestrating his own plans behind our group's façade."

Naruto shrugged. "Figures. He told me straight up he had bigger fish to fry. Also, guess what? I discovered something during the Third Hokage's funeral, courtesy of Orochimaru's reanimations. I had to engage Senju Hashirama, yeah that's right, the legendary Shodai, among others. I didn't come out unscathed, but I survived."

The statement hung in the air like thunder. Itachi, though measured, couldn't hide the flicker of admiration. "Hashirama was said to be the prime cause behind Madara's initial downfall. The fact you faced him in a resurrected form and lived… that's significant."

Naruto's grin sharpened. "So you see, I'm more than 'potential.' If Madara or your Akatsuki buddies try cornering me, they might regret it. And you too—if you push the wrong button. I'm all too eager for a fight."

Itachi parted his lips as though to respond, but in a single, fluid shift, the hypnotic pattern in his Sharingan began swirling. Naruto sensed the subtle wave of oppressive mental energy. With practiced ease, he triggered the newly awakened powers of his Kessetsugan. The swirling edges of a symmetrical knot manifested faintly in his left eye, a phenomenon that flared the faint lines upon his iris.

Itachi's brow rose fractionally, acknowledging the display. "Kessetsugan, after all this time," he mused, voice tinged with curiosity. "I'm not entirely sure what it does, but you can't avoid the illusions of my Mangekyo that easily."

Despite Naruto's Kessetsugan swirling to meet it, he felt the lurch in his stomach as genjutsu clasped his consciousness. The room blurred again, tones of red and black creeping into the corners of his sight. Determined not to show fear, he squared his shoulders and exhaled, letting the illusions swirl around him.

Within the conjured realm, Itachi's illusions sprang forth. He replicated the same grand spectacle from years prior, conjuring shadowy silhouettes of Senju Hashirama and Uchiha Madara locked in cosmic struggle. Yet, this time, Naruto stood unwavering at the vantage point, fists clenched in anticipation rather than dread. He noted the swirling meteor, the cataclysmic collisions of wood and war fan, the monstrous Kyuubi bursting from a dimensional rift.

Though overshadowed by illusions of unstoppable might, Naruto's pulse thudded not from fear but from a burning resolve. One day, I'll surpass these legends, he told himself. I have to.

He also studied more details of Madara's persona in these illusions. The fleeting expressions, the brazen confidence, all contributed to Naruto's mental library of data about the grand puppet master behind Akatsuki.

The illusions condensed, swirling back into the smaller space, revealing a stoic Itachi glancing away from the ephemeral battlefield. "This is our shared enemy, Naruto," the Uchiha repeated, calm but firm.

Naruto clenched his jaw. "I got it. But keep in mind, I've handled things beyond your imagination. I'm not the same kid you left behind."

At that moment, Naruto channeled the Kessetsugan's secret effect. The endless knot in his eye glowed brighter, bridging the genjutsu's structure. Itachi, perceiving the attempt, maintained the illusion's anchors. On the surface, it might appear he still gripped Naruto, but lines of chakra parted within the swirling illusions, weaving pathways that Naruto exploited.

He seized upon a mental node in the genjutsu, twisting his own chakra threads in synergy with the Kessetsugan's mysterious resonance. A subtle shift occurred. Itachi frowned, noticing an unexpected dissonance. The illusions flickered, but they held firm from his vantage.

Outside the illusions, time stood nearly still. In that fraction of real-world seconds, Itachi prepared to withdraw the genjutsu. Convinced he had imparted his message and tested Naruto's readiness, he attempted to end the illusions—only to discover a strange barrier.

Impossible. He tried again, intensifying the Mangekyo's output. Instead, he felt a rebound effect, a reflection forging a barrier around his own mental constructs. The more he pushed, the more the barrier seemed to fold his illusions back upon him.

Within the illusions, the swirling red sky cracked. Naruto locked eyes with Itachi, smirking. "Thanks for opening your mind to me."

Itachi realized, with a flicker of alarm, that Naruto's Kessetsugan was interfering with the standard dissolution of his illusions. The illusions swiftly twisted, with Naruto's shape overshadowing the dreamlike terrain. The ancient battlefield parted, replaced by a scene reminiscent of the Uchiha District. This time, Itachi stood alone in the cratered streets while Naruto watched from above.

Naruto's voice echoed, though his lips did not move. "You thought you caught me in your illusions, but you forgot to be cautious about the Kessetsugan's link. We reversed your own illusions."

Itachi's face hardened. He attempted once more to sever the genjutsu. No luck. Another attempt, focusing on Mangekyo's peak mastery—still no yield. The intangible locks that Naruto's ocular powers introduced acted as a clamp on the genjutsu's exit route.

Outside, in the real world, both men stood motionless. Naruto's clones watched warily, though they glimpsed no immediate threats from behind Itachi.

Itachi recognized that the illusions had effectively reversed. The environment was now his own illusions made manifest but turned under Naruto's partial control. He remained outwardly calm, though internally grappling with the notion that Naruto had manipulated his own specialized skill.

Naruto's voice—resonant, half-laced with mischief—echoed once again in that dreamlike space. "I'm not letting you out so easily."

Itachi tested a lesser measure, conjuring a swirl of crows to distract the illusions, only for them to fade into an intangible swirl as Naruto's dominating presence overshadowed them.

For a moment, Naruto silently recalled how Danzo once told him that illusions could be manipulated if one found the correct anchor and matched frequency. Naruto realized the Kessetsugan's synergy gave him the final push to do so with advanced illusions.

Within the illusions, both men stared at one another, two powers locked in a psychological standoff. Even though time in the real world spanned mere moments, the illusions conjured entire conversations and experiences spanning indefinite lengths.

Naruto smirked, adjusting the illusions around them. "You taught me enough, all those years ago… remember? My abilities overshadow mere illusions if I will it so. You told me to become strong. You're about to see how I interpret that."

For the first time, a flicker of genuine caution rippled across Itachi's features in that ephemeral space. He realized that if Naruto willed it, he could subject him to the illusions as forcibly as Tsukuyomi might do to a victim. The concept of reversing illusions was rarely recorded in standard shinobi knowledge, except maybe in the highest echelons of Root or certain legendary clan secrets.

In the real world, outside in the streets Kisame, who had finally made his presence known, looked on in confusion. He saw Naruto's visible smirk, eyes glinting, while Itachi stood rigid, eyes glassy. Sensing the abrupt shift, Kisame's brow furrowed. "Itachi-san?" he prompted, uncertain. Naruto didn't bother acknowledging the tall swordsman. Instead, he exhaled, focusing on finalizing the reversal. "I told you, Itachi," Naruto murmured aloud, "that I'd meet any challenge. Let's see if you can endure your own illusions turned against you." The last of the illusions sealed itself around Itachi's psyche. The older Uchiha twitched slightly, evidently trapped.

Kisame flexed his grip on Samehada. "Oi, kid," he growled, baring sharpened teeth. "What the hell did you do to him?" Naruto cast a sidelong glance at the towering shinobi. "I didn't do anything he didn't invite," he replied coldly. "He tried to subjugate me with illusions, so I used the Kessetsugan to reflect them back, twisting his own technique. Now he's stuck." The big swordsman snarled, stepping forward. "Release Itachi, or I might have to chop your arms off." Naruto nearly laughed. "What an adorable threat, Kisame, the tailed beast without a tail. But I'm a little busy dealing with your partner. If you think you can intimidate me, by all means, try." He cracked his knuckles, brimming with confidence though he retained a healthy dose of wariness. Kisame was no small-time threat—he was an Akatsuki member, after all. By reversing Itachi's illusions, Naruto had effectively held him captive in his own mental realm. That left Kisame to be handled in the physical world, and Naruto was more than ready to test himself one-on-one against an infamous swordsman.

Kisame landed in the snow with a grunt, rolling before springing to his feet. Samehada remained clutched in his grip, still partially covered in bandages. He cast a quick look at the gaping hole in the inn's wall, then at Naruto, whose jacket and headband whipped in the breeze. The teen radiated chakra, eyes alight with a blend of resolve and adrenaline.

"Heh," Kisame said, voice tinged with a deep amusement. "I see you left Itachi behind, pinned in genjutsu, right? And here I thought we'd all rendezvous together. Guess you separated us."

Naruto, fists tight at his sides, offered a small nod. "He and I have unfinished business. You and I, we can settle our fight out here." The young man's gaze flicked to the sky as swirling flakes caught on his eyelashes. "Better to do it away from the inn. Don't want to wreck the place too much."

Kisame's lips split in a sharklike grin, revealing his unnervingly sharp teeth. "How considerate of you. Perhaps you'll regret that courtesy. Where I fight, I break everything in sight. Town or not."

Naruto shot forward, bridging the short distance with a burst of speed. Yet Kisame responded with surprising agility for someone so large. He swung Samehada in a broad arc, the bandaged sword humming ominously. Naruto ducked beneath it, boots scraping against the snow, and launched a swift elbow toward Kisame's abdomen. Kisame met the blow with his forearm, absorbing the impact with minimal recoil.

"Mmm, decent power," Kisame remarked, hardly winded. "But we'll see if you measure up to your rumored skill."

"You might find out," Naruto retorted, a wry grin curving his lips. He pivoted, lashing out a roundhouse kick that Kisame blocked with the spine of Samehada. Sparks danced around the contact point—Naruto had infused his kick with a flicker of lightning chakra.

Kisame felt a mild static jolt up his arm. "So you're mixing in Raiton, huh?" he teased. "Don't disappoint me."

Naruto clenched his fist, and with a swift motion, he unscrolled a length of parchment from a small cylindrical container at his hip. Channeling his chakra into the seal, he summoned the Raijin no Ken—a blade humming with electricity and shaped from raw thunder. The ephemeral sword crackled in the snowy air, arcs of bright-blue lightning licking at the edges.

Kisame raised an eyebrow. "Now that's interesting. A lightning blade reminiscent of the Leaf's lore. Didn't realize you'd stolen that formula, or maybe you inherited it from someone."

Naruto said nothing, letting the charged blade speak for him. If it was enough to hold off Kisame's monstrous blade, that would be test enough. With a short exhale, Naruto lunged again. Their weapons clashed, Raijin no Ken meeting the bandaged hilt of Samehada. To Naruto's mild surprise, the blade bit into the cloth but encountered an almost scaly resistance beneath. The resulting collision produced a harsh screech, like nails on iron.

"Sword to sword, then," Kisame chortled, pushing Naruto back with a single powerful shove. "Though I suspect you'll find Samehada isn't exactly an ordinary blade."

He advanced fluidly, hefting the sword overhead for a downward slice. Naruto angled the Raijin no Ken to parry, lightning crackling as the weapons met. Bits of bandage tore free, revealing glimpses of the scaly surface beneath. In that fleeting instant, Naruto felt a tug on his chakra—Samehada was trying to devour the energy fueling his blade.

Jerking aside, Naruto severed contact, refusing to let Kisame's sword sap the lightning that gave the Raijin no Ken its form. "Tricky piece of gear," he acknowledged, eyeing the partially revealed scales.

"Glad you appreciate its finer points," Kisame quipped, rotating his wrist to free more of the bandages. "I normally let it feed on more robust chakra. But you'll do for now."

Naruto's expression turned serious. He recalled hearing rumors about a living sword that consumed an opponent's chakra. With a swift movement, he hopped backward, ensuring the next exchange happened away from the inn. As planned, they were leading each other further out, presumably to the outskirts of town.

Wind whipped across the open space, scattering sand in swirling eddies. Grains of dust peppered Naruto's face, but he ignored the sting. He had bigger problems. Kisame, apparently, was all too happy to follow, a predatory glint in his eyes. "You want to fight me outside the city limits, huh?"

Naruto nodded. "No sense risking bystanders."

"How noble of you," Kisame said, a mocking edge in his tone. "Let's see how that altruism holds up once we really start."
Their steps took them down a narrow alley and past the final row of buildings. Crossing a small wooden bridge, they emerged onto a broader plateau that overlooked a winding ravine. The sounds of the town behind them grew faint, replaced by the moan of the cold wind and the distant call of a lone hawk.

Kisame came to a halt, glancing back toward the city. Confirming no civilians lingered, he turned to face Naruto once more. "I can respect you not wanting an audience," he mused. "Less chance of interference, too."

"Exactly," Naruto said, exhaling a small cloud of misty breath. "This is between us."

He flicked his wrist, and the Raijin no Ken thrummed, arcs of lightning intensifying as he poured more chakra in. In the sky overhead, a gloom of thick clouds began to gather—Naruto's Raiton often stirred local weather when he pushed it. Over the years, Danzo had hammered into him the synergy of lightning and water tactics, the importance of controlling an environment.

"Impressive," Kisame noted, following Naruto's line of sight to the swirling clouds. "You plan to whip up a storm? That might just be playing into my hand, you know."

"Don't be so sure," Naruto retorted. "I've faced enough watery foes. You're not the first swordsman I've danced with."

Without another word, they rushed each other again. This time, Naruto pivoted mid-step, weaving a single-handed seal with his free hand. Sparks danced around him, and a surge of lightning leapt forth in an arcing projectile aimed at Kisame's torso. Kisame grinned, bringing Samehada to intercept. The bolt collided with the scaly blade, sizzling as it tried to devour the chakra.

Naruto used that fleeting opening to vanish from Kisame's immediate line of sight, reappearing at the swordsman's flank. He slashed the Raijin no Ken in a diagonal arc, forcing Kisame to whirl around with a hasty block. The two weapons connected, and again, Naruto felt that unsettling drain on his sword's power. He withdrew swiftly, stepping back to avoid losing too much chakra.

"Tsk, your sword can't keep contact for long," Kisame teased. "Samehada grows hungrier by the second."

Naruto steadied himself, eyes narrowing. "Then I'll just have to feed it something it can't stomach."

With that, he dug deep into the fiery presence slumbering in his abdomen: the Kyuubi's chakra. A crimson aura began to seep outward, forming swirling wisps around his silhouette. Four tail-like appendages of roiling energy took shape, flickering ominously with each breath. His whisker marks darkened, eyes shifting to a more feral red.

Kisame's grin widened at the sight. "Now that's more like it. Show me what your fox chakra can do."

Naruto let out a harsh breath, letting the savage energy spill across his form. The four tails whipped behind him, lashing at the air. He sprinted forward, bridging the gap in an explosion of speed, and slashed with the Raijin no Ken, augmented by the Kyuubi's raw might. Kisame responded with surprising grace, deflecting the blade with Samehada. Sparks flew as the energies collided. The shockwave of the collision splintered the ground beneath them.

Both men backflipped away, landing in mirrored stances. Naruto extended his free hand, shaping a sphere of wind-laced chakra that crackled with lightning. A swirling vortex—a fused jutsu that combined Rasengan's rotational force with the cutting edge of Raiton.

"Let's see you handle this!" Naruto roared. He lunged, plunging the swirling sphere toward Kisame's midsection.

Kisame lunged to meet him, Samehada howling hungrily. For a second, the swirling mass of wind and lightning pressed into Kisame's defense. Then, with an audible slurp, the swirling energies began to dissipate as the sword devoured them. Naruto's eyes widened momentarily. He twisted at the last second, preventing the sword from making direct contact with his body.

They parted again, Kisame chuckling darkly. "You're quick, but I told you, this sword has an appetite for chakra. Doesn't matter how fancy your technique is, Samehada can feast on it."

Naruto's jaw tightened, frustration and adrenaline warring in his mind. If direct contact with Samehada kept draining him, he needed a new plan. Even with Kyuubi's power, a drawn-out battle might turn dire. The roiling four-tailed aura flickered around him, each tail thrashing in agitation.

Without warning, Naruto unleashed a new wave of offense. He flung his left palm forward, and from it extended bright golden chains—adamantine sealing chains. The glowing links snaked through the air, seeking to wrap around Kisame. Startled, the swordsman leaped aside, only for the chains to twist, homing in with an almost sentient precision.

"Chains, are they?" Kisame muttered. "Guess that's how you plan to neutralize my blade."

Naruto yanked sharply, controlling the chains with a flick of his wrist. Kisame leapt from one position to another, narrowly evading entrapment. Meanwhile, Naruto advanced, brandishing the Raijin no Ken in his other hand. For a few tense seconds, the clearing echoed with the clang of steel, the hiss of devoured chakra, and the rattle of shimmering chains.

Kisame capitalized on an opening, sending a swift slash toward Naruto's ribs. Naruto hopped back, tail swipes aiding his balance. Then, with a defiant roar, the swirling red aura deepened in color. Two more tails erupted from his chakra cloak, bringing the total to six. The transformation made his silhouette even more menacing, the swirling malignant aura sending bits of frost swirling from the ground.

Kisame steadied his stance. "Ah, six tails now, is it? I'd prefer not to kill you, but I have my mission."

Naruto's laughter was grim, a near-snarl. "You keep saying that, but I doubt you can make good on any plan to subdue me."

In a burst of movement, Naruto launched forward, six tails trailing behind in a chaotic dance. He hammered a punch at Kisame's midsection. The swordsman raised Samehada to block, but the raw force of Naruto's blow sent shockwaves outward. Kisame slid backward, leaving deep furrows in the earth, and even Samehada emitted a strained hiss.

Before Kisame could recover, Naruto channeled a surge of power. The vortex of Kyuubi chakra bled seamlessly into his lightning control, and arcs of electricity danced along the six tails. He spun, tails stiffening like razor-edged whips, flinging slashes of chakra-laden electricity that tore through the clearing. Some arcs carved deep gouges in the ground, others soared overhead, crackling violently.

Kisame growled, weaving through the onslaught with deft footwork. He recognized that each slash carried the potential to paralyze or maim. Whenever a tail soared too close, he parried with Samehada, devouring the embedded lightning. But the continuous barrage forced him on the defensive for once.

Naruto took advantage, closing the gap in a blink. He formed a hastily shaped Rasengan in his right palm, static dancing along its spinning chakra. Then, just as he drove it toward Kisame, Samehada once again latched onto the energy. The swirling sphere shrank, half-consumed. Furious, Naruto let a seventh tail coalesce, further augmenting his destructive capacity.

But as the seventh tail formed, Naruto felt a twinge in the back of his mind. He had never used so many tails in an extended fight without risking partial loss of control. He inhaled, forcibly reminding himself of the mental discipline Danzo hammered into him. He had to maintain clarity.

Kisame bared sharp teeth in a savage grin. "You might not be the typical host, but that power is delicious, Jinchūriki or not. Let's see just how far you can go."

Sensing the fight was nowhere near concluded, Naruto spat a short breath. "I'll show you something better. This is what I've been training for."

He closed his eyes momentarily, focusing on the swirling mass of energy in his core. Images of training sessions with Danzo, echoes of old teachings from Jiraiya, fleeting glimmers of Itachi's instruction. Then the roiling cloak of the Kyuubi's chakra started shifting—the once chaotic swirl refined itself, each tail pulsing in rhythmic synergy. The scalding red gloom took on a blazing golden sheen, and with a final explosive flourish, nine distinct tails spread out from Naruto's form.

This was Kyuubi Chakra Mode in its apex state. The coloration turned bright gold, edges roiling like living flame. His whisker marks glowed faintly, and each tail gave off a sense of immeasurable power. Kisame's eyes widened ever so slightly, genuine astonishment creeping into his expression for the first time in their confrontation.

Naruto breathed slowly, a sense of uncanny calm settling over him. The savage aura from before was replaced by a more controlled but infinitely more potent presence. "Let's see how hungry your sword is now," Naruto said softly, eyes glinting with azure determination.

Kisame snorted, feigning confidence. "Nine tails? Heh, I guess I get to see the top of your power. Suits me just fine. More chakra for Samehada to feast upon."

But the grin on Kisame's face faltered an instant later. Naruto blinked out of sight—in a burst of speed so absolute that Kisame could scarcely register it. By reflex, he slashed Samehada in a wide arc. Yet Naruto's figure appeared behind him, one tail hooking around Kisame's arm, yanking him off-balance. Another tail slammed into Kisame's back, hurling him forward with bone-jarring force.

Kisame tumbled through the snow, barely managing to flip upright before he crashed. He coughed, the air driven from his lungs. "Damn, that's… a huge jump in speed."

Naruto wasted no time. He uncoiled his adamantine sealing chains once again, but now they glowed with a golden luster, presumably augmented by the Kyuubi Chakra Mode's higher synergy. In the blink of an eye, half a dozen chains whipped forth, each strike aiming to entangle or skewer Kisame.

Sensing real danger, Kisame formed a quick series of seals. "Suiton: Bakusui Shōha!" he roared, expelling a massive tide of water that flooded the clearing, swirling into a dome-like formation. The sudden deluge created a watery battleground, partially submerging trees and clearing space. The rising waves battered the snow away, leaving a swirling mass of water that encompassed them.

Naruto hovered in midair, tails swirling. "A water dome, huh? Trying to corner me in your environment," he surmised.

Kisame nodded. "In water, I have the advantage. Watch your next move carefully."

Without missing a beat, Naruto pressed his palm against the water's surface. "Shadow Clone Jutsu—Multi-Form!" he commanded. In a haze of chakra, hundreds of clones materialized around him, each one sporting the same Kyuubi Chakra Mode. The water churned as the clones spread out, flooding every corner of the watery domain.

"You think an army matters?" Kisame growled, forcibly melding with Samehada. He shifted into a semi-fused sharklike form—gills lining his neck, fins sprouting from his forearms, tail curling behind him. "One by one, you'll feed me."

But Naruto's grin sharpened. "We'll see about that."

A wave of clones stormed forward, each brandishing their own ephemeral weapons or swirling orbs of energy. Kisame launched into a savage assault, cleaving through the first wave. True to his reputation, he overcame swaths of clones, letting Samehada devour large chunks of their chakra. Each clone dispersed in a puff of steam or swirling water, but more clones pushed from behind, unstoppable in their sheer number.

In moments, the watery prison threatened to overflow with bodies. The surge of hundreds upon hundreds of clones pressed outward. The water dome quivered under the mounting pressure, and Kisame realized with alarm that the aggregated mass of chakra, plus the physical presence of so many forms, was exceeding the dome's capacity to remain stable.

Cracks formed in the watery walls. Beams of light lanced through, followed by a violent burst that scattered water in all directions. The entire structure collapsed in on itself, raining droplets and unleashing a flood across the terrain. Some clones were swept away, but countless more simply re-formed or used swift footwork to stay afloat.

Cursing softly, Kisame swam backward. The water receded, leaving a drenched field. Naruto's clones circled from all sides, the real Naruto presumably among them, each exuding the bright gold of nine-tailed chakra.

"Ngh, not good," Kisame admitted, feeling winded. Even his regenerative powers had limits, and the surges of power from devouring so many clones were growing chaotic. Meanwhile, Naruto's presence was overshadowing the entire battlefield, unstoppable as a tidal wave of raw spirit.

Before Kisame could finalize a strategy, golden chains shot forth from multiple angles. They coiled around him, forging a crisscrossing net that pinned his arms and legs. He tried to slash them with Samehada, only to realize with a jolt of horror that in his partial exhaustion, his movements had slowed a fraction, giving the clones the opening they needed.

One chain latched onto Samehada's handle, forcibly wrenching it from Kisame's grip. The sword rattled in protest, scales writhing, but the chain binding it glowed with a potent sealing aura. The synergy of Kyuubi Chakra Mode plus the Uzumaki heritage allowed Naruto to subdue the living blade's thrashing.

"Don't you—!" Kisame hissed, trying to muster the last vestiges of his watery jutsu. But additional chains pinned his wrists, biting into them with chakra-suppressing force. A strangled wave of dizziness assaulted him as he felt his access to chakra forcibly sealed.

Naruto stepped forward, dismissing most of the clones with an absent flick. Only a handful remained, vantage points around the perimeter. The real Naruto locked eyes with Kisame, the teen's visage a curious blend of triumphant and grim.

"That sword isn't yours anymore," Naruto said firmly, jerking the chain that held Samehada. The living weapon twitched, giving a feeble gurgling noise. "And you can't feed on me or my clones, not while my chains restrict your chakra."

Kisame's knees buckled, but the chains propped him upright. He spat a glob of blood to the side, defiance dancing in his beady eyes. "You cunning brat. Didn't think you'd corner me so effectively."

Naruto's stare was unyielding. "I told you: I was testing myself. So far, I've tested enough. Now, there's something else I need from you."

He stepped closer, letting the swirling gold of his Kyuubi Chakra Mode recede somewhat. At this range, Naruto exuded a powerful aura that made Kisame uneasy. The ex-swordsman tried to lash out, but the chains refused him even the slightest freedom.

Naruto lifted one hand, the Kessetsugan swirling in his right eye. That intricate knot design glowed faintly. "I want your secrets," he stated, voice low and resolute.

Kisame's face twisted into a sneer. "Secrets? Hah, as if I'd let you rummage in my head. I'll die before I let that happen."

He attempted a last-ditch move—a self-destructing technique he'd developed as a failsafe. However, as he tried to channel the required chakra, the chains constricting him sparked with an oppressive seal. His attempt fizzled, leaving him gasping in frustration.

"Not so easy," Naruto said quietly. "These chains do more than just subdue your body. They suppress your chakra attempts. And with my dojutsu, I can link to your mind."

Kisame snarled, thrashing vainly. "I've faced illusions, infiltration, mind-reading. They can't break my will."

Naruto's expression was unyielding. "You'd be surprised how thorough I can be," he said, raising his right hand until it nearly touched Kisame's forehead. "The Kessetsugan's ability to forge a connection surpasses typical illusions or Yamanaka infiltration. You can fight it, but you'll fail."

As Kisame struggled in vain, Naruto closed his eyes. He let the Kessetsugan's mental link surge forth, weaving threads of intangible chakra that penetrated the older man's psyche. Kisame let out a strangled cry, a half-choked sound betraying the intrusion that hammered at his mental defenses.

Inside Kisame's mind, Naruto glimpsed flashes of memory: the gloom of Kirigakure's training halls, the Seven Swordsmen's exploits, the day Kisame first bonded with Samehada, his entry into Akatsuki, and fleeting images of Tobi—Madara—issuing orders. More images streamed past: infiltration plans, secret codes, meeting spots, an underground fortress. The swirling details threatened to overwhelm Naruto, but he pressed on, systematically gleaning the intel he needed.

Kisame's face contorted in pain, beads of sweat rolling across his temples. He bared his teeth, trying to stifle a howl. Naruto sensed him making one final attempt at some mental sabotage, but the synergy of the Kessetsugan and his sealing chains let him dominate the link.

Eventually, Naruto retracted his hand, severing the connection. He exhaled shakily, mind reeling from the trove of knowledge. "Thank you for your cooperation," he muttered, voice laced with grim satisfaction.

Kisame slumped forward, breathing hard, pinned by the binding chains. "You… you got what you wanted," he spat, a mixture of fury and defeat glistening in his eyes. "Go on, gloat. I can't stop you."

Naruto stared at him, an unreadable expression crossing his features. Flickers of compassion warred with the knowledge that this man was an unrepentant killer. Memories of all the damage Kisame had wrought, the countless lives ended, overshadowed any pity.

Finally, Naruto's grip on the Raijin no Ken tightened. "You would have killed me or subdued me. The difference is, I let you talk."

He raised the lightning blade to Kisame's throat. The ex-swordsman gulped, pulse pounding. "You'd better make it quick."

"Do you regret anything?" Naruto asked quietly, a faint tremor in his voice.

Kisame barked a low laugh. "Regrets? Who has time for that in our line of work?"

Naruto nodded slowly, stepping behind Kisame to angle the final blow. "Farewell, Hoshigaki Kisame."

With a deft slash, the Raijin no Ken sliced cleanly through Kisame's neck. There was no flamboyant flourish—just a single, decisive stroke. Blood spattered the snow, and the swordsman's head toppled forward, expression still etched in that mocking grin.

For a moment, Naruto lingered, feeling the weight of what he had done. Another piece of Akatsuki, eradicated. Another rung in the ladder he climbed to face Madara, to shape the future.

Silence blanketed the clearing. The swirling gold of his Kyuubi Chakra Mode faded, leaving Naruto's appearance more normal—though the tension in his stance spoke of the toll the battle and the infiltration of Kisame's mind had taken. He studied the lifeless body, exhaling a slow breath.

Then he tugged on the chain that bound Samehada. The living sword hissed, flailing. Deprived of its master's constant feed, it seemed both distressed and enraged, but the sealing effect subdued it. When Naruto tightened the chain with a flick, the sword's thrashing subsided.

The swirl of the Kessetsugan in his right eye momentarily glowed as he reinforced the chain's enchantments. "Calm down," he told the sword quietly, though he doubted it understood. "You've lost your wielder. It's over."

A hush lingered, the distant wind the only companion to the finality of the scene. The destroyed water dome's remnants trickled away, forming shallow pools that glinted under the midday sun. Naruto braced for a moment, scanning the horizon for any sign of further threats. Sensing none, he frowned, turning back to the battered remains of the inn in the distance.

Itachi. He was presumably still locked in that reversed genjutsu, the illusions preventing him from interfering or escaping. Naruto felt a surge of conflicting emotions regarding that older shinobi—teacher, betrayer, conspirator. But at least for the moment, Itachi posed no immediate threat.

Naruto strode across the clearing, all nine ephemeral tails vanished now, the Kyuubi's aura receding into his core. He held onto the chain in one hand, dragging Samehada behind him. The sword felt heavier than expected, no doubt a manifestation of its refusal to cooperate. Nonetheless, Naruto pressed on, his golden Kyuubi Chakra Mode receding entirely now, leaving him clad in his familiar orange and black attire. The faint golden glow lingering on the sealing chains binding Samehada dimmed further until it was gone, leaving the living sword utterly suppressed. His breaths were steady despite the battle he had just endured, though his mind was anything but calm.

Kisame's body lay motionless in the clearing, the snow around his headless form stained deep red. Samehada, silenced and inert, rested at Naruto's side, still bound in adamantine chains. The swirling snow began to settle, the tension in the air dissipating as if nature itself sought to erase the evidence of the fierce battle.

As Naruto turned to leave, dragging the subdued sword with him, he suddenly froze. A flicker of chakra—subtle but unmistakable—pierced his senses. His eyes narrowed as he pivoted sharply, bringing his free hand up in a guarded stance.

Emerging from the shadows at the edge of the clearing was none other than Itachi Uchiha. He stepped forward with measured calm, his crimson Sharingan glinting faintly in the dim light. Snowflakes clung to the edges of his Akatsuki robe, and his expression, as always, was unreadable.

"So," Naruto said slowly, his voice calm but laced with suspicion. "That was all an act, wasn't it?"

Itachi inclined his head slightly, neither confirming nor denying the accusation. His silence spoke volumes.

Naruto's mind raced, piecing together the implications. "You let me reverse your genjutsu," he stated, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. "You wanted me to think I trapped you, didn't you?"

Itachi's lips twitched into the faintest semblance of a smile—too faint to be amusement, too subtle to be mockery. "I wanted to see how much you had grown over the past five years," he said softly. "And I must say, Naruto, you did not disappoint."

Naruto gritted his teeth, his knuckles tightening around the chain binding Samehada. "So this was just some twisted test of yours? You watched the whole fight, didn't you?" His tone was sharp, cutting through the cold air.

Itachi regarded him with calm detachment. "I observed everything. I hadn't anticipated you would go so far as to kill Kisame, though." His gaze flicked to the decapitated body in the snow, his expression briefly clouding. "He was… difficult to kill. Famed for it, in fact."

Naruto shrugged, trying to mask the mixture of pride and lingering unease in his chest. "Well, he didn't heal so well once I took his little toy away," he said, gesturing to the subdued Samehada with a wry smirk.

Itachi exhaled, almost imperceptibly. "You do realize what you've done, don't you?" he asked, his tone carrying a hint of something between warning and resignation. "You've made yourself an even bigger target. My organization—Akatsuki—will not let this slight go unanswered. They will come for you, and now that they know what you're capable of… so will Madara."

Naruto's eyes narrowed at the mention of Madara, his mind recalling the fragments of intel he'd extracted from Kisame's memories. He squared his shoulders, his confidence unshaken. "Let them come," he said firmly. "I can take care of myself."

Itachi's gaze lingered on Naruto for a moment, his crimson eyes searching for something unspoken. Finally, he said, "You might want to worry about yourself instead of me. After all, how are you going to explain this to your boss? Losing your partner under your watch?" Naruto's words carried a biting edge, his smirk faint but deliberate.

For a brief moment, Itachi remained silent, his expression unreadable. Then, he turned as if to leave, his movements slow and deliberate, but Naruto's next words stopped him in his tracks.

"Was it worth it?" Naruto asked, his voice calm but layered with genuine curiosity. "Eliminating your clan. Traumatizing your little sister. Abandoning her like that. Betraying everyone who loved you, trusted you, had hopes for you… Was the payout worth the sacrifice?"

The clearing fell into an eerie silence. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. For a moment, it seemed as though Itachi wouldn't answer at all. Naruto could swear he saw a flicker of something in the Uchiha's eyes—a fleeting look of torment, of deep contemplation. But it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

"Yes," Ita-chi finally said, his voice steady but carrying an undertone that was impossible to ignore. "It was worth it. Many times over."

Naruto blinked, startled by the bluntness of the response. He had expected hesitation, perhaps regret, or even anger. But there was none of that in Itachi's tone—only cold conviction.

Before Naruto could respond, Itachi's form began to dissolve. Black feathers materialized out of nowhere, swirling around him in an unnatural flurry. His body dissipated into a flock of crows that scattered into the air, their caws echoing hauntingly through the clearing. Within seconds, he was gone, leaving Naruto alone with his thoughts.

Naruto stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where Itachi had been. His mind churned with questions, doubts, and conflicting emotions. Had Itachi really meant those words? Was he lying to himself? To Naruto? Or had he truly made peace with the horrors of his past?

Naruto exhaled slowly, his breath misting in the cold air. "Well, that's that," he muttered, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. Turning back to Kisame's lifeless body, he knelt beside it and began the process of sealing both the body and the severed head into a storage scroll. It was grim work, but necessary—he couldn't risk Akatsuki recovering the remains.

As he worked, his thoughts drifted back to Itachi's answer. "Yes, it was worth it." Those words echoed in his mind, heavy and unshakable, like a weight pressing on his chest. What could drive someone to such conviction? What kind of sacrifices had Itachi endured to arrive at that conclusion?

He was broken out of his musings as a massive plume of smoke erupted in the clearing as a large toad materialized, its body towering above the battlefield. Atop it stood Jiraiya, the legendary Toad Sage, his expression one of fierce determination as he scanned the area for signs of danger. "Naruto!" he called out, his voice booming. "Where are they? Where are the Akatsuki?"

The moment his eyes landed on Naruto, Jiraiya froze mid-sentence. His jaw fell slack, and his usual composure wavered. Below him, his apprentice knelt calmly on the blood-stained snow, meticulously sealing a severed head and a decapitated body into a storage scroll. The crimson stains and the shredded battlefield painted a grim picture, but Naruto was utterly unperturbed. He moved with purpose, as though this was routine.

"What the…" Jiraiya muttered, his voice dropping to a disbelieving whisper. "What the hell happened here, kid?" His words were heavy with shock, his mind struggling to process the scene before him.

Naruto didn't even look up. His hands continued working the sealing scroll with practiced precision, his expression calm but focused. "Exactly what it looks like," he replied evenly, not breaking stride.

Jiraiya jumped down from the toad, his feet crunching against the snow as he approached. His eyes flicked to the lifeless body parts, then back to Naruto. "You actually killed Kisame Hoshigaki?" he asked, his tone laced with disbelief. "The Tailless Tailed Beast of the Mist?"

"Believe it," Naruto replied, glancing briefly at his mentor before returning to his task.

"I'm trying to," Jiraiya muttered, rubbing his temples as if to stave off a headache. The sight of Kisame, one of the most notorious members of Akatsuki, lying dead at Naruto's feet was almost too much to comprehend.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Jiraiya finally said, his voice rising as he stepped closer. "Do you have any idea how reckless this was? Taking on two Akatsuki members by yourself?! What were you thinking?"

Naruto finally stopped what he was doing and stood, meeting Jiraiya's gaze without a hint of remorse. "I was testing myself," he said simply. "I needed to know how I'd fare against an Akatsuki member."

Jiraiya's frustration boiled over. "Testing yourself?! This isn't some sparring match, Naruto! These are S-rank criminals! They're not just out of your league; they're in a whole different game!"

Naruto's expression remained calm, his gaze unwavering. "And yet, I won."

Jiraiya groaned, rubbing his temples again. "I didn't believe the rumors," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Naruto. "I didn't believe it when they said you dealt with Orochimaru single-handedly in the Forest of Death. I thought, maybe, the Kyuubi chakra had given you an edge. But now…" He trailed off, his eyes scanning the battlefield once more. "Now, I don't have a choice but to acknowledge it."

Naruto raised an eyebrow. "About time," he said with a smirk.

Jiraiya sighed deeply, his hands dropping to his sides. "You're not making this easy for me, kid," he said, his voice tinged with both exasperation and reluctant admiration. "A part of me is relieved—hell, I'm proud. You've proven you can take care of yourself, even against someone like Kisame. But…" His face darkened, his tone turning grave. "This isn't just about you. The Akatsuki won't take this lying down. And when the other nations hear about Konoha rearing a shinobi like you—a fourteen-year-old with this kind of power—do you have any idea what kind of chaos that'll bring?"

Naruto shrugged, his smirk fading. "Let them come," he said. "I'll handle it."

Jiraiya shook his head, muttering to himself. "This kid is going to be the death of me. Minato, you'd better wake up soon."

As silence settled between them, Jiraiya's eyes drifted back to the battlefield. His gaze lingered on the bloodstained snow and the sealed scroll in Naruto's hands. "What about Itachi?" he asked finally. "What happened to him?"

Naruto turned to face his mentor fully, his expression unreadable. "He escaped," he said simply.

Jiraiya raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Just like that? He didn't try to help his comrade?"

Naruto's eyes flicked back to the spot where Itachi had stood earlier. "He said he wanted to see the extent of my abilities," he explained. "To assess my mastery of the Kyuubi's chakra in action. He planned to report back to the Akatsuki with what he learned." Naruto paused, his gaze hardening. "He didn't expect me to kill Kisame, though. He admitted that was an oversight on his part. Before he left, he said the Akatsuki wouldn't take this lightly."

Jiraiya frowned deeply, his face grim. He crossed his arms, his mind racing. "Anything else?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

Naruto nodded. "Yeah, there's more. He said the Akatsuki is led from the shadows by someone… someone still alive who shouldn't be."

Jiraiya's brow furrowed. "Who?"

"Madara Uchiha."

The name fell like a thunderclap, the weight of it shattering the tenuous calm that had settled over the clearing. Jiraiya stared at Naruto, his face a mixture of disbelief and dread. "That's impossible," he said, though his voice lacked conviction. "Madara died decades ago. He couldn't have survived his final battle with the First Hokage."

Naruto's expression didn't waver. "Apparently, he did," he said. "Itachi said Madara has been planning his revenge on Konoha ever since. He's been manipulating things from the shadows, pulling the strings of the Akatsuki. And he's got a plan—a big one."

Jiraiya's stomach churned. "What kind of plan?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"To capture all the Tailed Beasts," Naruto said. "He wants to use their power to resurrect the Juubi—the Ten-Tails. It's the legendary beast the Sage of Six Paths defeated. With its power, Madara plans to cast a massive genjutsu on the entire world. He thinks it'll end all conflicts."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. The wind had stopped, the forest eerily still. Jiraiya stared at Naruto, his mind reeling from the revelation.

"Fuck," Jiraiya finally muttered, the expletive slipping out before he could stop himself. He ran a hand through his hair, his face pale. "This is… this is bad. Worse than I thought."

Naruto tilted his head, his expression calm despite the weight of what he'd just shared. "So, what do we do?" he asked.

Jiraiya didn't answer immediately. He turned away, his gaze sweeping over the snow-covered forest as he tried to gather his thoughts. "First," he said finally, "we get back to Konoha. The Hokage needs to hear this. If what you're saying is true—and I believe it is—we need to start preparing. The Akatsuki isn't just a threat anymore. They're a full-blown disaster waiting to happen."

Naruto nodded, sealing the final scroll and tucking it away. "Fine by me," he said. "I've got everything I need from Kisame. If the Akatsuki wants to come after me, I'll be ready."

Jiraiya glanced at him, his expression softening slightly. "You've grown a lot, Naruto," he said quietly. "More than I ever imagined. But don't let that power make you reckless. Strength without caution is just another kind of weakness."

Naruto met his gaze, his expression serious. "I understand," he said. "But don't worry about me. I've got this."

Jiraiya sighed, shaking his head. "You're a handful, kid," he muttered. "But you're also something else—a damn miracle."

Naruto smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "Don't forget that," he said, his tone teasing.

Jiraiya chuckled despite himself. "Let's get moving," he said, turning toward the path back to the village. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us."

---

Land of Demons

The next day, Tsunade returned promptly, accompanied by a lean, dark-haired woman: Shizune. Minato recognized her from faint memories, a loyal apprentice to Tsunade. She bowed respectfully. "It's an honor, Fourth Hokage. I'm glad to see you recovering."

Minato offered a polite nod. "Just call me Minato, please. I'm no longer in office, from what I understand."

Shizune smiled warmly, stepping forward with a small folder of notes. "We've performed a preliminary scan. Your physical condition is stable, chakra flow strong. We can attempt a short walk today, as Tsunade-sama said."

Minato sat up, letting Tsunade help remove an IV line from his arm. The insertion site bled a little, but Shizune dabbed it with an alcohol swab. Tsunade then guided him gently to swing his legs over the side of the bed. The moment his bare feet touched the wooden floor, a rush of cold made him shiver. Thirteen years of near-death slumber, undone in a blink. He prayed his legs could support him.

Tsunade stayed close, a hand hovering near his shoulder. "Easy does it," she murmured. "We'll go slowly."

Minato inhaled, bracing himself, then pushed off the mattress. His knees wobbled, but he maintained balance. Shizune quickly stepped in to support him if needed, though he managed to stand upright on his own. A slight dizziness pressed at his temples, but it faded after a few measured breaths.

"Feels… surreal," he admitted, peering at his arms, flexing his fingers. "My body responds well, though. Like I was never bedridden at all."

"Yes," Tsunade agreed, scanning him with a medic's critical eye. "It defies every principle of long-term coma care. I've never seen anything like it. You're essentially as healthy as the day you fell unconscious."

A pang of wonder and sadness flickered across Minato's face. "Kushina must have arranged something extraordinary. Or fate is playing games with me." He took a step forward, gingerly. Another. By the fourth step, he found the stride not too difficult. Perhaps a tad stiff, but no real hindrance.

Shizune smiled. "Wonderful. Let's do a short lap around the corridor outside, if you're up for it."

He nodded, carefully following Tsunade and Shizune out the door. The hallway was dimly lit by lanterns, and the air carried a faint musty odor reminiscent of old temples. Exotic inscriptions adorned the walls, likely a combination of Tsunade's medical seals and local protective runes from the Land of Demons. The corridor extended a short distance to an intersection leading to a broad antechamber with pillars carved from dark stone.

As they walked, Tsunade pointed out a few side rooms—storerooms, a small kitchen area, a medic's office. Minato couldn't help but note the hush. No hustle or bustle like a typical hospital. This place was discreet, likely with minimal staff. Indeed, they only passed one masked attendant, who bowed quickly and vanished around a corner.

At the far end of the corridor, a sealed wooden door bore an intricate series of swirling patterns. "Out there is the main courtyard," Tsunade explained, guiding Minato's steps. "We'll go outside when you're stronger. For now, it's quite cold, and I want to ensure you can handle a short walk without straining."

Minato nodded, focusing on each footstep, the gentle echo of his soles on polished wood. "It's quieter here than I expected," he remarked.

Shizune let out a quiet chuckle. "We keep a low profile. We seldom have visitors. Our biggest excitement is occasionally traveling for supplies or letting Mito roam a bit—supervised, of course."

Minato's heart ached with curiosity about Mito's routine. "She must want more freedom at her age."

"Oh, she does," Tsunade confirmed with a small grin. "She's cunning about sneaking off for short adventures. She always returns, though, usually with some new story or a personal item she discovered. I allow it as long as she's safe. She knows how to mask her presence well enough. We taught her the basics of infiltration to hide her Jinchuuriki signature."

Nodding, Minato pictured a red-blonde teenage girl scampering through forest paths, forging her identity in secret. He felt an odd mix of pride and sorrow for all he had missed. "I appreciate everything you've done," he whispered.

Tsunade squeezed his arm gently. "She's your daughter, Minato. I did what needed to be done."

After a slow circuit of the hallway, Minato felt a twinge of fatigue in his calves, though it was manageable. "I think I'd like to rest again soon," he admitted.

Shizune nodded. "Of course. Let's get you back to bed. That was a great start. Tomorrow, we can push further."

They retraced their steps, returning to the room where Minato had awakened. The midday light filtering in through a narrow window told him that many hours remained until nightfall, but the walk had been enough for one session. Once settled into bed again, he let out a low sigh.

Tsunade, crossing her arms, looked down at him with a half-smile. "Not so bad for your first day awake in thirteen years. If this continues, you'll be running laps in no time."

Minato responded with a soft chuckle. "And hopefully more than just laps. I want to resume some training, if my chakra cooperates."

"I'll let you try minor ninjutsu soon," Tsunade replied. "We'll carefully check for any residual anomalies. I don't sense any immediate threat, but I won't risk it. Understood?"

He gave a humble nod. "Understood, sensei."

She rolled her eyes in mild amusement at the moniker. "I suppose that'll do. Now, Shizune and I need to prepare some additional tests. We'll bring you dinner in a couple of hours. Meanwhile, rest, or if you feel stable, you can read or just reflect. If you need help, ring that small bell on the shelf."

Minato thanked them, and they departed. Alone again, he reclined on the bed, letting his gaze wander to the ceiling. Every joint and muscle felt the faint ache of reawakened tissue, but it was overshadowed by the flurry of thoughts swirling in his mind. So many revelations. The knowledge that Mito was safe, that Naruto lived as a Leaf shinobi, that Kushina was truly gone. The Third's death, Orochimaru's downfall. And the puzzle of why his body revived now.

He closed his eyes, recalling the gentle curve of Kushina's smile, the bright sparkle in her eyes when she teased him. Her fierce devotion to their children. The final memory of that night—the panic, the Kyuubi's monstrous roar, her desperation to protect him at all costs. She had taken the Reaper's scythe in her own hands, preserving him. Thirteen years lost, but at least he could continue living for both their sakes.

Time drifted, and the hush in the chamber offered no interruption. Eventually, footsteps in the hall signaled the arrival of dinner. Shizune brought in a tray with rice porridge, steamed fish, and a cup of tea. The scents reminded him of home, of simpler days before fate tore them apart. He ate slowly, mindful of his stomach's limitations. They exchanged a few words about upcoming medical checks, about how he felt after the short walk.

When she left, night soon fell. The single lantern in his room provided a soft glow. He dozed intermittently, dreaming of a little girl with red hair, a teenage Naruto wearing a Leaf forehead protector, and a radiant Kushina smiling from beyond a swirl of mist. He awoke a couple times with tears on his cheeks, but also with a sense of acceptance that this was his path now.

---

1 week later

The sun hung low over the small, bustling town, its golden rays casting long shadows on the dusty streets. Naruto trudged alongside Jiraiya, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion and irritation. This was the third town they had visited in the past week, and once again, they'd found no sign of Tsunade.

Naruto scowled, kicking a loose pebble across the road as he followed his mentor. "Another dead end," he muttered under his breath. "I don't get it, Ero-Sennin. How can someone as loud and flashy as Tsunade be so damn hard to find?"

Jiraiya, hands tucked into his robe, sighed deeply. "Tsunade has her ways," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and resignation. "She knows how to keep a low profile when she wants to. The real problem is that she doesn't want to be found."

Naruto groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. "Then why the hell are we chasing her all over the place if she doesn't want to be found? This is a waste of time!"

Jiraiya stopped abruptly, turning to glare at Naruto. "We're chasing her because we need her, brat. She's the only one who can take up the mantle of Hokage right now. Or have you already forgotten what's at stake?"

Naruto's jaw tightened, but he didn't back down. "I know what's at stake," he shot back. "But running around like headless chickens isn't getting us anywhere. We've been to how many towns now? Five? Six? And not a single clue! This is ridiculous!"

Jiraiya pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "You think I'm not frustrated too, kid? Tsunade's an old friend. I know her habits, her patterns. I thought I could track her down, but she's proving harder to pin than I expected."

Naruto crossed his arms, glaring at the older man. "Yeah, some great super spy you turned out to be."

Jiraiya narrowed his eyes at him. "Watch it, brat."

They stood there for a moment, locked in a silent battle of wills, before Jiraiya sighed again and started walking. "Let's grab some food and figure out our next move," he said over his shoulder.

Naruto followed reluctantly, muttering under his breath about goose chases and wasting time. They found a small ramen stand at the edge of the market and took their seats. The smell of broth and sizzling pork filled the air, momentarily lifting Naruto's spirits.

"Two bowls of your best miso ramen," Jiraiya said to the vendor, then glanced at Naruto. "Make that three."

Naruto perked up slightly at the mention of food, but his annoyance quickly returned as he remembered their fruitless search. "So, what's the plan now?" he asked, slurping his noodles. "Another town? Another lead that goes nowhere?"

Jiraiya didn't respond immediately. He stared into his bowl, his expression unusually thoughtful. "There's one more place we can check," he said finally. "An old gambling den Tsunade used to frequent. If she's not there… well, we'll think of something else."

Naruto groaned loudly. "Great. Another long walk to another dead end."

"Do you have a better idea, genius?" Jiraiya snapped, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Naruto hesitated, his chopsticks hovering mid-air. An idea was forming in his mind, though it was more of a gamble than a plan. He put his bowl down and turned to Jiraiya. "Actually… yeah, I might."

Jiraiya raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "Oh? And what's this brilliant idea of yours?"

Naruto leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "Do you have anything that belongs to Tsunade? Like, something personal?"

Jiraiya frowned, clearly puzzled. "What are you talking about? Why would I have something of hers?"

Naruto shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "I don't know. Knowing the kind of pervert you are, I figured maybe you swiped something when she wasn't looking."

Jiraiya's frown deepened, his confusion quickly giving way to suspicion. "What exactly are you getting at, brat?"

Naruto leaned back in his seat, a sly grin spreading across his face. "I'm saying, knowing you, you probably stole one of her panties or something to sniff in private."

The ramen stand fell silent.

Jiraiya sputtered, his face turning a deep shade of red. "What the hell did you just say?!" he roared, slamming his hands on the counter. "You little punk! How dare you even suggest something so outrageous?!"

Naruto snickered, clearly enjoying his mentor's reaction. "Oh, come on, Ero-Sennin. Don't act all innocent. Everyone knows you're a huge pervert. I just thought—"

"Shut up!" Jiraiya bellowed, his voice echoing through the stand. "I would never do something like that!"

Naruto's grin widened. "Oh, really? Never, huh?"

Jiraiya's face contorted with fury as he struggled to find the words to defend himself. "The last thing I would do," he shouted, "is settle for her panties when I can have my wife whenever I want!"

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.

Jiraiya's face froze, the anger draining from it in an instant. His eyes widened in horror as he realized what he had just said. Slowly, he turned to look at Naruto, whose own eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Fuck," Jiraiya muttered, his voice barely audible.

Naruto stared at him, utterly speechless. His mouth opened and closed several times, but no sound came out. The silence between them was deafening, the weight of Jiraiya's accidental confession pressing down like a leaden cloud.

Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.

Jiraiya's hands twitched at his sides, his mind racing as he desperately tried to think of a way to backpedal. But the damage was done. There was no taking it back. No amount of explanation or deflection could erase the words he had just blurted out.

Naruto continued to stare at him, his expression a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something akin to betrayal. Finally, he managed to croak out a single word.

"What?"

And with that, the moment ended, the silence swallowing them whole as the weight of Jiraiya's confession settled between them like an immovable stone.

---

Senju Compound

The late-afternoon sun stretched languid shadows across a spacious training field behind an elegant estate nestled in the Land of Demons, a territory known for its stark, beautiful valleys and rolling hills. Near the property's edge, the wind carried the faint aroma of distant forests, mingling with the distinctive scent of blossoming shrubs that Tsunade had planted years ago. A broad stone wall encircled the grounds, though beyond it lay an expanse of natural wilderness where the chirruping of small creatures could occasionally be heard. In the estate's courtyard, two young teenagers squared off in silence, each exuding a palpable aura of confidence and raw energy. They stood in a wide semicircle of clear ground, ringed by smooth stone tiles that had withstood many such matches before.

Nawaki—aged fourteen—bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, an eager gleam dancing in his dark eyes. He was the image of a blended heritage: the white hair, eyes, vigor and sharpness from his father Jiraiya, coupled with the commanding presence and fierce will of his mother, Tsunade who's complexion he shared. While tall for his age, his features held a certain softness that echoed Tsunade's lineage, especially in the fullness of his cheeks and the determined set of his jaw. A swirl of carved wood adorned his short, cropped hair on the left side, a symbol he'd been experimenting with to represent his budding mastery of Wood Style. Over a sleeveless black top and dark pants, he wore an unassuming vest that bore the insignia of the Senju clan.

Directly across from him stood Mito, thirteen years old, with a face caught between childlike innocence and the promise of teenage maturity. Her reddish blonde hair, reminiscent of Minato's hue, was pulled into two neat buns pinned behind her head, allowing her bright blue eyes to remain unobstructed. She carried herself with confident poise, an echo of Kushina's quiet determination. While she had trained relentlessly in ninjutsu, especially Fire and Wind Release, she also harnessed the power of her inherited sealing chains. Neither child was fully grown, but the intensity radiating between them suggested seasoned warriors in miniature.

The estate itself bore the tasteful additions that Jiraiya and Tsunade had incorporated over the last fourteen years. A large koi pond sparkled to one side, tranquil but for the ripples where fish occasionally surfaced. On the far side of the courtyard, an open veranda gave glimpses of sliding doors that led to the living areas. A faint breeze carried laughter from somewhere else in the compound, presumably one of the staff members going about their tasks. This environment, though scenic, had long been a place of rigorous training, particularly for Mito, taken in as an infant and raised here alongside Nawaki.

In the preceding months, the two of them had discovered a mutual thirst for challenge. Mito, armed with her Rasengan and the fearsome prospect of the Nine-Tails chakra lurking beneath her calm demeanor, found in Nawaki a compatible sparring partner. Nawaki's affinity for Wood Style—an extraordinary rarity—had cemented his position as a formidable up-and-coming shinobi. Today, they had decided to push each other further than ever before, to test their raw potential in an all-out match that had them both adrenaline-charged and intensely focused.

Standing at the edge of the training area, Shizune could be glimpsed peering from a doorway, occasionally fidgeting with her fingers. She understood that Tsunade had given the teens permission to train, but she also knew how spirited they could become. Nonetheless, she had other duties to attend to and left them to their sparring—on condition they promised to keep it within reason. If they truly were serious about a no-holds-barred fight, it was only a matter of time before their scuffle caught someone's attention.

In the hush of anticipation, Nawaki brought his hands together in a half-ram seal. "Let's see how well you handle the new moves I've been cooking up," he said, voice brimming with quiet confidence.

Mito inclined her head slightly, an almost playful smirk forming at the corner of her lips. "Oh? So you've finally learned something beyond Rasengan and Wood Style? I'm all ears, big brother."

He chuckled softly. "You'll see soon enough." Then, in a flash, he pressed his palms onto the ground. "Wood Style: Vine Growth Formation!"

From the courtyard's stone floor burst slender, twisting branches that coiled and sprang toward Mito with startling speed. Their bark-like exterior gleamed in the afternoon light, indicating the slick infusion of Nawaki's chakra. Mito responded by focusing on her own capabilities, weaving together two shadow clones that jumped out to intercept the vines. One clone executed a swift combination of Taijutsu kicks to knock aside the initial wave, while the second formed a quick series of hand seals, spitting a small volley of wind bullets that splintered a few of the incoming wooden tendrils.

"Not bad," Nawaki mused, controlling the vines like an extension of his limbs. "You're faster than before. But let's see if you can keep up!"

"Wind Release: Gust Break!" Mito's voice rang out, and an abrupt gust slammed into the creeping vines, momentarily halting their advance. She seized that opening to dash forward, shadow clones on either side, swirling with slight distortions of wind around her fists. With a cry, she leaped, bringing her right foot down hard on the vines, snapping them like dry twigs.

Nawaki responded with quick composure. He tapped into his super strength—an advanced chakra control technique Tsunade had taught him over years of practice. Closing the short distance between them, he aimed a punch that collided with Mito's block, the raw force sending a reverberation throughout the courtyard. Their eyes locked in mutual respect, even as they attempted to overpower each other.

Mito shot him a grin, capitalizing on her vantage point. "You're not the only one with a potent punch, big brother." She twisted her hip, letting her own chakra-laced fist slam into Nawaki's forearm. He grunted softly, stepping back.

"We both learned from the best," Nawaki conceded. He exhaled, forming a familiar swirl of chakra in his palm. The Rasengan pulsed with luminous energy. With a deft pivot, he launched himself at Mito, thrusting the spinning orb toward her midsection. Mito's eyes widened, and she quickly formed her own Rasengan in a symmetrical swirl. The orbs collided with a sharp crackle, sending spirals of chakra outward like ripples on a pond. Stone tiles split underfoot, and a shockwave of dust billowed around them.

For a breathless moment, they remained locked in place, Rasengan pressing against Rasengan. The swirling energies hissed and popped. Mito's clones seized the chance to flank Nawaki, each brandishing wind-forged kunai. Anticipating their tactic, Nawaki allowed a faint grin to form. "Forgot I can do this, did you?"

With a swift shift in his focus, he used Healing Palm Jutsu on his own arm, channeling a precise surge of medical chakra that revitalized the muscle strain from maintaining the Rasengan standoff. In an explosion of movement, he spun around, forcibly pushing Mito's primary Rasengan aside. Her clones lunged, their weapons poised to strike, but Nawaki leaped, twisting midair, forming two clones of his own. The newly formed duplicates engaged Mito's illusions with an exchange of quick blows. In the fracas, Mito's main form took the chance to create space between them.

"That was slick," Mito admitted through shallow breaths, re-evaluating her strategy. She flicked her gaze toward the broken stones beneath them. "But don't think I'm out of tricks."

She inhaled deeply, allowing the fiery swirl of her mother's elemental affinity to surge within her. "Fire Style: Burning Stream!" Mito unleashed a concentrated jet of flames from her mouth, aimed at Nawaki's midsection. The blazing heat forced Nawaki to relinquish his immediate advantage. He darted to the side, feeling the searing air slice past him. The courtyard's boundary glowed orange as flames brushed against the perimeter walls, leaving scorch marks on the polished stone.

Sucking in a breath, Nawaki responded with his own Earth-based ninjutsu. "Earth Style: Stone Bulwark!" He erected a small, sturdy barricade from the ground, the rocky surface sizzling as Mito's flames licked it. For a moment, both siblings paused, their breathing ragged in the aftermath of that barrage.

The sun overhead inched closer to the horizon, painting the estate in amber hues. Onlookers from the household staff peered from the shadows of corridors, drawn by the commotion but wary of interfering. Unsure when Tsunade or Jiraiya might appear, they chose to let the skilled teens carry on, convinced that neither posed lethal danger to the other. Meanwhile, Mito leveled a focused gaze at Nawaki, reminiscent of Kushina's fierce determination, though softened by a mindful calm.

She exhaled, reaching deep within herself to tap into the well of the Nine-Tails' chakra. A faint red glow began to shimmer around her, ephemeral at first but intensifying with each heartbeat. Her eyes shifted, momentarily reflecting a feral glint. "You forced me to bring this out earlier than I planned," she half-joked, letting the aura settle around her like a second skin.

Nawaki noted the shift with a firm set of his jaw. "If that's how it is…" he murmured, the corner of his lips tugging upward. "Then I won't hold back either."

Slowly, greenish-brown motes of chakra sparkled around his fingers, swirling upward to coalesce in the shape of a blossom—his nascent mastery of Wood Style extended not just to controlling vines or forming wooden pillars, but to generating living flora enhanced by elemental chakra. He let the swirling essence slip into the ground, where it ran like a pulse through the earth. A heartbeat later, tall, thick-barked wooden columns erupted across the courtyard perimeter, forming a ring that soared overhead, effectively sealing them in. Each column was bristling with smaller offshoots, giving them a fortress-like feel.

"Guess we won't be dragging this fight anywhere else," Mito said with a wry grin, tossing an appreciative glance at the structure. She flexed her right hand, the swirling red aura intensifying. "Alright then—let's see which one of us stands tall."

She lunged, propelled by the Nine-Tails' chakra that boosted her speed to a startling degree. Nawaki reciprocated with a leap, brandishing a Rasengan in his left hand. Their collision sparked a mini-explosion of energy. Mito's aura flared in bright red, while Nawaki's swirling blue orb ground into it. The courtyard rattled, and their roars intermingled with the clash of energies.

Between each surge of power, they wove in basic ninjutsu—shadow clones, transformation feints, and quick bursts of kunai attacks. Mito's trademark Adamantine Sealing Chains glinted in the light, occasionally shooting out from her back to lash at Nawaki's defenses. But Nawaki's broad knowledge of elemental manipulations allowed him to conjure sharp spines of wood that deflected the chains each time they neared contact.

Seeing an opening, Mito feigned a leap to the left but pivoted with a swirl of her chains, launching them from the right. "Gotcha now!" she exclaimed. The chains lashed out, tangling around Nawaki's waist. For a moment, he felt the binding pull tight, restricting his movement.

Swift as a hawk, Mito formed a small Rasengan in her free hand, planning to strike Nawaki head-on. But he grunted, focusing his chakra into both hands, forging a swirling mass of senjutsu-laced wooden needles—his own adaptation of Wood Release that launched from his palms in a scatter-shot pattern. Mito reflexively retracted her chains to shield herself, but the wave of needles clipped her arms, stinging painfully.

Seizing that respite, Nawaki twisted in place, channeling super strength into his torso to tear free from the chain's partial hold. The wooden columns around them creaked as if resonating with his surge of chakra. Finally liberated, he closed in, fists crackling with condensed Earth-Style energy that Tsunade had once taught him to use as an internal enhancement. Mito braced with her arms crossed, the Nine-Tails' aura thickening protectively. Blow after blow rattled her guard, leaving visible shockwaves in the air.

With a grunt, she planted her feet, took a punishing punch to the side, and spun around with a savage backhand that caught Nawaki's chin. He flew back a few feet before flipping to land gracefully, sliding into a crouch with arms raised.

They exchanged glances, adrenaline pounding through their veins. Both were scuffed, bruised, and panting. The onlookers—house servants and a couple of shinobi aids—observed with awe, torn between intervening and letting them burn off their rivalry. Shizune was nowhere to be seen at that moment, perhaps busy with other tasks in another wing of the estate.

"Not bad…," Mito rasped, wiping a small trickle of blood from her lip. "You've really stepped up your game, big brother."

Nawaki smirked despite his labored breathing. "Same goes for you. I can feel that your control over the Nine-Tails' power is stronger than before. You're not losing yourself to it." He took a moment to rotate his left shoulder, feeling the soreness radiate. "But I'm not done."

He slammed one hand onto the ground. "Wood Style: Twin Tower Pillar!" Two towering wooden structures erupted from beneath Mito, attempting to entrap her by forming interlocking columns. She leaped away at the last second, flipping high above the battlefield. Channeling her Fire Release, she aimed downward.

"Fire Style: Phoenix Spear!" Flames coalesced into a narrow, fiery lance that streaked down, striking the wooden pillars. The intense heat combusted part of the structure in a burst of embers and acrid smoke. Nawaki shielded his eyes with a forearm.

"She's always so quick to blow everything up," he muttered, not without a hint of respect. As the smoke swirled, Mito soared gracefully to land behind him, the red aura from the Nine-Tails flickering across her silhouette like dancing wisps.

He whirled around, forming a half-ram seal. "Earth Style: Burrowing Grip!" The ground beneath Mito collapsed slightly, pulling at her feet as if hands of earth tried to snare her ankles. She yelped, quickly igniting a small swirl of wind chakra around her legs to break free. But that split-second was enough for Nawaki to come from the side with a chakra-enhanced punch aimed at her ribcage.

Mito jerked her body, channeling that same swirling wind around her torso for partial defense. The blow still landed, staggering her a few feet, but the worst of it was mitigated by her reactive wind shield. She coughed, wincing at the impact, but found her footing once more.

Furious and invigorated, Mito brandished her Adamantine Sealing Chains again, focusing on a new tactic. Four chains lunged outward, weaving through the pillars Nawaki had formed. "You won't dodge these," she hissed through clenched teeth. It was a complex maneuver that forced Nawaki to keep track of multiple angles. He tried deflecting them with another wave of woody spikes, but the chains were too swift. Two of them scored direct hits, wrapping around his left wrist and waist.

"Got you," Mito exhaled, triumphant. She yanked hard, intending to slam him into a battered chunk of courtyard debris. Instead, Nawaki swiftly gathered chakra into his right palm, generating a swirling Rasengan. In a single, fluid motion, he drove the sphere into the chain that bound his wrist, the resulting vortex unraveling the bond and sending shrapnel-like energy ricocheting away.

With a grunt of exertion, he pivoted, using his newly freed arm to channel super strength into a downward chop on the chain around his waist. The metal-like links trembled under the blow, though they didn't completely snap. However, the force was enough to loosen them, letting him break away with a short leap. He exhaled, sweat beading on his brow. Mito swore under her breath, retracting the chain with a quick mental command.

"Rasengan, healing jutsu, Wood Style, super strength… You're juggling a lot," Mito remarked, inching around the courtyard, searching for an opening. "You never did show me your full range of elemental ninjutsu, though. Holding back?"

Nawaki let out a short laugh, rolling his shoulders. "We can't go too far, or we'll destroy everything here. I doubt Shizune would forgive us if we leveled the entire courtyard."

A mischievous sparkle lit Mito's eyes. "Oh, you're worried about Shizune?" She clapped her hands together. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!" A small squad of clones appeared in wisps of chakra-laden smoke, each armed with a swirling Rasengan of varying size. "Let's see if you can handle this!"

They rushed him from multiple directions. Nawaki's immediate reaction was to summon a forest of spiny branches from the ground, designed to hamper group assaults. But Mito, simultaneously controlling her clones, manipulated the Nine-Tails' aura to smash through the spines, clearing a path. He parried the first clone's Rasengan with his own, the clash resulting in a swirling updraft that tossed dust everywhere. The second clone capitalized on his momentary distraction to lunge from the right, but Nawaki pivoted, slamming a wood-laced elbow into it. Poof—it vanished in a puff.

The third clone leaped overhead, arms outstretched, blazing with a wind-chakra-laced technique that formed a crescent shape. "Wind Release: Crescent Arc!" it cried, flinging the arc downward. Nawaki quickly performed a one-handed seal.

"Water Style: Serpent Defense!" He hadn't used water jutsu yet, but with the estate's reservoir of water locked below in a cistern, he managed to draw some upward, forming a serpentine coil of liquid that neutralized the wind slash. The watery serpent and the slicing wind collided, scattering droplets in all directions. The display was mesmerizing—crystalline spray glinting in the late-day sun.

Mito herself ducked under the watery chaos, charging in behind the third clone. She'd infused her fists with the Nine-Tails' red chakra, forming faint illusions of foxlike claws around them. Her strike collided with Nawaki's forearm block, sending a ripple of pain up his arm.

He grunted, fighting to maintain composure. "Alright, that's enough," he said, a determined edge to his voice.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, weaving a series of hand seals with near-blinding speed. "Wood Style: Giant Binding Branches!" Chunky limbs of polished dark wood erupted around Mito, forming an enclosed cage that curved inwards, intent on trapping her within a narrow funnel. She sliced at them with wind-laced swipes, but the branching network re-grew faster than she could cut it down.

Yet Mito refused to be contained. A roar built in her throat as she summoned the Nine-Tails' chakra more intensely. Flaming tendrils of red coiled around her, biting into the wooden pillars, dissolving them in a swirl of spiritual energy. Freed from the encroaching cage, she shot Nawaki an exhilarated grin, her breath ragged. "You're pushing me to my limit—and I love it!"

Nawaki coughed, feeling the strain of controlling so many advanced jutsu in succession. "The feeling's mutual," he replied. "This is the best spar we've had."

They locked eyes again—both battered, sweaty, bruised in places from near-misses, each marveling at how far they'd come since they were small children wrestling in the yard. Mito's chin had a small cut, trickling a line of blood. Nawaki's shirt was torn, revealing a spreading bruise across his ribcage. The air crackled with an electric tension, as though nature itself recognized the magnitude of their clash.

Simultaneously, they lunged once more. Nawaki formed a fresh Rasengan, swirling bright blue with flecks of green from his budding senjutsu knowledge. Mito's eyes glowed red with the Nine-Tails' aura, forging a condensed Tailed Beast sphere in miniature. The collision of these two powers created a sphere of raw energy that forced them both back, sliding across the courtyard tiles.

"It's not over yet," Mito panted, steeling herself for another push. "I can still—"

Her voice cut off as a sudden tremor reverberated beneath their feet. The floor cracked, and in the next instant, an overwhelming pressure filled the space, as though a monstrous presence had arrived. It was not a gentle flux of chakra but a violent surge, like the rage of a sleeping dragon awakened too soon. Both youths froze, a cold sweat forming on their brows, their instincts screaming caution.

From across the courtyard, a figure descended with lethal grace, slamming down so hard that the stone walkway caved in underfoot, forming a crater. Dust churned upward in a plume. In the gloom of that haze, they saw a silhouette crackling with menacing energy. A blazing yellow aura outlined the shape of a woman with long hair parted in twin tails. She looked more like a demon's silhouette than a nurturing mother.

Both siblings recognized her instantly—Tsunade. She had evidently come straight from a check-up on Minato, who was still within the estate convalescing but stable. Now, a maelstrom of anger and protective authority rolled off her in waves. Her hair lashed about, charged with some intangible fury. Her eyes were obscured in the silhouette, but the set of her mouth was enough to freeze both Mito and Nawaki in place.

"M-Mom…" Nawaki began hesitantly, feeling his stomach twist into knots.

"B-Baachan," Mito stammered, stepping back. She always saw Tsunade as a mother figure, though the official adoption was known only to a few. "We were just—"

"Just what, messing up my courtyard?" Tsunade snarled, her tone as icy as a deadly serpent. The aura around her flared ominously. "You tore through the walls, left scorch marks on the veranda, and triggered those quake-like tremors that shook the entire wing. What in all the realms were you two thinking?"

Mito gulped, flicking a nervous glance at Nawaki. "We—We got carried away—"

Nawaki hurried to chime in. "It was an accident, we didn't think—"

He never finished that sentence. Tsunade launched forward in a blur of motion. Her fist connected with the side of Nawaki's face so quickly he barely saw it coming. The impact was punishing, sending him careening into a stack of splintered wood from one of his own pillars. His vision swam as pain exploded across his jaw.

Before Mito could mount a protest, Tsunade grabbed her by the collar, pulling her in so that their eyes nearly touched. "I told you not to push the Nine-Tails chakra so recklessly!" Tsunade hissed. In one swift motion, she tossed Mito aside. The girl landed with a heavy thud, wincing as her elbow collided with the ground.

"You—You're overdoing it!" Mito managed, trembling. She tried to stand, but Tsunade was already on her. A downward chop hammered across her shoulders, forcing her to the floor, cracks radiating out from her point of impact. Mito coughed, tasting blood in her mouth.

From where he'd been thrown, Nawaki forced himself onto his knees. A swirl of dizziness threatened to topple him. He stared in shock as Tsunade turned her focus on him once more. His own mother, overshadowed by a flickering aura reminiscent of raw wrath, was truly terrifying. It was almost an unstoppable force made flesh.

"Mom— I can explain—" he choked out. But Tsunade's foot found his midsection in a punishing sideways kick. He doubled over, the breath ripped from his lungs, pain blossoming in every nerve.

"You two…" Tsunade's voice trembled, but not with weakness—rather, with a barely contained fury. "You know how important it is to keep your training controlled. We have Minato in recovery, we have an estate that is supposed to remain intact, and you two are rampaging as though you're in a war zone!"

"B-But—" Mito started again, only to receive a savage glare that pinned her to the spot.

Her entire body ached, and the red aura from the Nine-Tails had retreated. Nawaki attempted to gather chakra, maybe to form a healing palm for himself, but Tsunade's next punch hammered him into the ground. The resulting crater was a testament to her super strength. His healing technique sputtered out as agony lanced through his limbs.

"I've had enough of your explanations," Tsunade snapped, standing over them, breathing hard. "This fiasco ends now."

Nawaki and Mito exchanged desperate looks, each weighed down by guilt and pain, their rebelliousness snuffed out by Tsunade's ironclad display of power. Slowly, she pulled back, the menacing glow about her beginning to fade, though her eyes retained a scorching intensity. They both cowered as she turned her gaze on them in disgust.

The courtyard, half-collapsed and covered in scorch marks, might have been the scene of an actual battle. Wooden pillars were shattered, lumps of half-melted stone littered the ground, and upturned earth formed bizarre lumps across the once-neat tiles. It was testament to how fiercely they had fought and how swiftly Tsunade had ended it.

In the stunned stillness that followed, Tsunade directed a withering stare at each teen. "Look at you," she said, voice simmering with anger. "Battered, bruised, and for what? Proving how strong you've become? Or maybe just satisfying your own reckless pride?"

Mito wiped her mouth, discovering fresh blood on the back of her hand. She swallowed hard, muttering a strained apology. "S-sorry, Tsun—Mom. We went too far."

Nawaki, flat on his back, managed a miserable nod, struggling to form words through the pain. "We… didn't mean… to break… everything," he rasped.

Tsunade scoffed, her chest still heaving. "You bet you didn't. But that's the trouble with you kids— always jumping into extremes without thinking about consequences." She pointed a trembling finger at the gaping hole in the courtyard wall. "Do you see that? Are you proud of your handiwork?"

Neither teen dared to respond, each wincing under Tsunade's fierce censure.

Shizune, who must have heard the commotion at last, came sprinting around the corner. Her eyes widened as she absorbed the wreckage and the sight of both youths battered on the ground. "L-Lady Tsunade! What in the world—?"

Tsunade huffed, crossing her arms. "They decided to do an advanced spar, ended up destroying half the courtyard, and nearly burned down the veranda. That's what." Her furious tone softened only a fraction when addressing Shizune, but it was enough for Shizune to realize the kids were no longer in immediate danger.

Mito let out a small groan, attempting to sit up. The wave of bruises and muscle aches threatened to overwhelm her. Shizune dashed over, kneeling beside the girl. "Don't move, let me see," she murmured gently. Her practiced medical hands glowed with a soothing green light as she began scanning for injuries.

Nawaki tried to push himself upright, but Tsunade's glare pinned him down. "Stay," she commanded sharply. Then she looked at Shizune. "Once you're done with Mito, help him too. They both deserve to feel the consequences of their idiocy, but not at the cost of actual harm."

Shizune nodded, her face a mask of concern. "Yes, milady." She coaxed Mito's left arm out, noticing the cuts and bruises along her bicep. "Deep bruises, possible hairline fracture in the forearm. I can fix it, but it'll still be sore."

Mito hissed as Shizune's healing chakra sank into her arm. "Thanks," she muttered. She threw a quick glance Tsunade's way, hoping for some measure of forgiveness, but Tsunade's expression remained unyielding. Embarrassed and contrite, Mito bowed her head, focusing on Shizune's ministrations.

Nawaki lay still, his mind spinning from the dull ache in his back. Eventually, Shizune moved to him, applying the same calming medical energy. He exhaled in relief, the tension in his muscles relaxing a fraction. "We're sorry," he managed to whisper again, though Tsunade gave no visible reaction. Instead, she merely stood there, arms crossed, surveying the damage with a cold eye.

Once Shizune finished stabilizing their injuries and bandaging the more serious scrapes, she helped them both lean against a mostly intact portion of the courtyard's perimeter. They each wore a rueful expression, still exhausted from the fight and subsequent scolding. Tsunade stood over them, her ire simmering but no longer at an explosive boil.

"If either of you thinks this is acceptable behavior," she began, voice edged with steel, "you have another thing coming. We taught you to be powerful, yes. But you must also learn restraint, discipline. We're no longer living in some war-torn corner of the world. You can't go around leveling everything in sight because you're bored or feel like testing yourselves."

Mito's eyes flickered with regret. "We know. It just got… intense. We didn't mean to—"

"Enough." Tsunade's single word cut through the air like a blade. "I don't need your excuses. I need your promise it won't happen again."

Nawaki swallowed hard. "I promise," he mumbled, massaging his throbbing jaw. "We didn't realize we were causing so much damage."

Mito nodded, wincing at the reminder of her burned arm. "I promise too. We'll keep it under control."

Tsunade studied them for a moment, her face unreadable. Then she let out a weary sigh, some of the tension leaving her posture. "Shizune, patch them up properly. After that, you two are to head inside for dinner. I have no appetite after all this, but you still need to eat. And if I hear one more outburst from that courtyard, you'll regret it."

Shizune bowed in acquiescence, turning her attention back to the pair. "Yes, milady." She led them carefully toward the veranda, where they could sit on a bench and be further examined. The sting of defeat, both from their mutual spar and Tsunade's punishment, weighed heavily in the air.

As Shizune settled them on the bench, she continued applying healing chakra to any remaining injuries, fussing over their bruises, and checking for signs of deeper damage. Mito hissed each time Shizune's hand glowed over a particularly sore spot, while Nawaki gritted his teeth, determined to remain stoic. Once or twice, they began to bicker, Mito making a snide remark about Nawaki's overuse of Wood Style, and Nawaki retorting that she nearly incinerated his pillars. But at the mention of "I'll get Lady Tsunade back here," they fell deathly silent, exchanging guilty, apprehensive looks. Even the slightest mention of Tsunade's potential wrath was enough to quell their squabbling.

At last, with both bruised teens more or less patched up, Shizune wiped her brow. She cast them a stern but gentle stare. "That should hold until Tsunade can do a thorough check if needed. Now, come on. Let's get you inside for dinner before you cause any more chaos out here."

Mito and Nawaki, battered and bruised, swallowed their pride and nodded, allowing Shizune to guide them back toward the interior of the estate, where the promise of a meal and a hopefully calmer atmosphere awaited. Their steps were slow, each movement reminding them of the price they paid for pushing their training too far.

They exchanged a final glance, part embarrassment and part mutual respect. They might be siblings, bickering and measuring their powers, but they were also united by the desire to grow strong—and by their fearsome mother, whose discipline they'd think twice about testing again anytime soon.

---

Inside a modest inn room lit by a single oil lamp, shadows swayed and danced against faded wallpaper. The hour was late; most of the town's residents had long since retreated to their beds. A hush hung in the corridors outside, but within these walls, a storm brewed—one made not of thunder and lightning, but of secrets and regrets.

Naruto Uzumaki sat perched on the edge of a creaky wooden bed, arms folded across his chest. His golden hair reflected flecks of lamplight, accentuating the faint lines of annoyance on his brow. Though he appeared calm at a glance, the subtle tapping of his foot betrayed the impatience coiling within him like a tensioned spring. Seated a short distance away on a rickety chair was his erstwhile teacher, the legendary Sannin known as Jiraiya. His white hair, normally wild and unrestrained, was now haphazardly tied back, as if he had done so in a hurry. Guilt etched his features, and he avoided Naruto's gaze with every fleeting glance.

Silence lingered like a heavy fog, its weight saturating the air. Everything in the room felt too small, too cramped to contain the swirl of revelations that were about to burst. On the table nearby, an untouched cup of cheap sake sat, a liquid echo of Jiraiya's usual indulgence. But tonight, even sake lacked its usual appeal.

"So," Naruto began, his voice clipping through the stillness, "you're finally going to tell me the truth, huh?" He kept his tone level, but the edge was undeniable. This was the pivotal moment he had both dreaded and eagerly awaited. Though Naruto already knew much from Danzo's clandestine disclosures, he had never let Jiraiya sense that knowledge—he wanted to see how the older man would handle the confession, so he feigned ignorance.

Jiraiya exhaled, his breath quivering at the edges. A spark of shame showed in his eyes, though he tried to maintain his usual jovial front. "Yes. I… I suppose I have to. No use pretending otherwise after what slipped out."

In the quiet that followed, Naruto raised a brow, urging Jiraiya to continue. The older man's gaze flickered to the door, as though he half-wished he could bolt from the room rather than unearth secrets he'd buried so long ago.

"Kid," Jiraiya began, choosing his words gingerly, "there's a lot you don't know about the last fourteen years. A lot of it is tied to Tsunade, to my… well, to my personal life. And it's also tied to decisions made by the village—by the Third Hokage, by Minato, by Danzo… by me." He paused, letting the weight of his words register.

Naruto's eyes narrowed, recalling the slip Jiraiya had made earlier about Tsunade. The raw shock in the man's expression, followed by a frantic attempt at denial, had been almost comical. Yet now, faced with the possibility of a full confession, Naruto felt his stomach tighten. He feigned curiosity mixed with tension. "I'm listening," he said briskly.

Jiraiya swallowed hard. "I know you're still reeling from everything that's happened," he murmured, "Kushina's passing, Minato's… condition, the fact you were left alone in the village. I swear, I never intended for you to shoulder all that pain. But… let's just say Tsunade and I had other responsibilities that demanded our full attention."

Naruto snorted, the corners of his lips twisting into a wry smirk. "Oh, I'm sure you did," he said. "Does that include you playing house with Tsunade, having a family of your own, raising them in some faraway place?"

The directness of Naruto's accusation visibly shook Jiraiya. He straightened in his chair, guilt radiating like an aura. "Yes," he answered quietly, "Tsunade and I… we have a son. Nawaki." He winced, as though the admission itself was a blow. "He's fourteen now." He tried to smile, but it faltered into something more like a grimace.

Naruto allowed the silence to stretch, letting each passing second exacerbate Jiraiya's discomfort. Then he spoke, so softly that Jiraiya had to lean in to hear: "So that's the reason you couldn't make time for me as a godfather, huh? Because you were busy being an actual father." There was an unmistakable barb in his voice, a deliberately low blow. Though Naruto in truth felt no sense of loss—his isolation in the village had led him to Danzo's Root, forging him into the strong shinobi he was today—he wanted to see how Jiraiya would react, to observe the guilt twist on the Sannin's face.

And twist it did. Jiraiya's features contorted with remorse. He looked at the floor, every line in his face telegraphing regret. The older man's hands clenched into fists on his lap. He inhaled unsteadily before replying, "Naruto… I don't have an excuse. I only have regrets. Back then, Tsunade and I—well, Tsunade was pregnant, unexpectedly. She'd lost so many she loved in Konoha, her little brother Nawaki, her lover Dan… She was terrified of losing another, of sending her child into the same cycle of violence. I… I agreed with her decision. We both left the village, with the Third's tacit knowledge. He allowed it on the condition we remain in contact, and that I still carry out certain espionage duties for the village." His voice cracked. "And so, yes, we chose a safe place, away from Konoha, away from war. We… we raised our son there. I— I'm sorry."

Naruto studied the older man's face for a moment. He feigned an expression of subdued shock, letting his lips part slightly. "You left me behind," he said. "Danzo used me as a scapegoat for the Nine-Tails fiasco. He manipulated the villagers' fear. I was alone. All the while, you were… a father to some other kid."

Jiraiya's wince deepened. "I'm sorry," he repeated, as though the words were all he had. "I never… meant for Danzo to sink his claws into you. I learned about your enlistment in Root far too late. I tried to intervene through the Third, but the political climate was complicated. The Third had limitations on how openly he could oppose Danzo. And me? I… was away, or busy elsewhere. I let you slip through the cracks, Naruto. For that, I bear the blame."

Despite Naruto's outward stoicism, a flicker of satisfaction bloomed within him at Jiraiya's open display of torment. He maintained his role, arching an eyebrow in skepticism. "Sounds like a bunch of excuses, old man."

"It is," Jiraiya admitted, voice trembling with sincerity. "Because there's no justification. What I did, or failed to do, was shameful. Even after you were made my godson—something Minato and Kushina intended as a sign of trust and love—I wasn't there for you. I wish I had a better explanation, but every time I think of it, all I can do is curse myself for leaving you vulnerable."

A hush lingered in the room again, heavy with emotional static. The flickering lamp cast elongated shadows on the walls. Naruto drew a breath, as though to gather composure, but in truth, his mind was calmly orchestrating the next phase. "You don't have to worry so much. I turned out fine, right? If anything, being alone helped me become strong… stronger than you might realize. I guess I can't blame you for having your own obligations… bigger obligations."

Jiraiya's brow furrowed, shame coloring his face anew. "It's not bigger, Naruto, that's not what I—"

"Let's not dwell on semantics," Naruto interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. The abruptness startled Jiraiya. "You had your responsibilities as a father and as the village's spymaster. End of story. I can't pretend to care too deeply about that; I'm not some fragile kid seeking a father figure now." He paused, eyeing Jiraiya's reaction with keen interest. "But… I guess it is what it is."

Another swirl of silence circulated, pushing both men to confront the uneasy truths swirling between them. Jiraiya swallowed, summoning courage to fill in further blanks. "Fourteen years ago," he began slowly, "the moment Tsunade discovered she was pregnant, her entire worldview changed. She'd lost faith in the cycle of war that governed shinobi life. I couldn't blame her. We'd seen so many tragedies. We wanted to protect Nawaki from the same fate that consumed her younger brother. The Third Hokage arranged a discreet departure for us. That's when… I left you behind. I told myself it was only temporary—that eventually, I'd reclaim my role as your godfather once matters stabilized."

He looked down at his palms, marred by a lifetime of conflict. "But time slipped away. Missions, secrets, the fear that any return to Konoha might bring danger to Tsunade's location… it all piled up. And then, Danzo made his moves. By the time I realized how far things had escalated, you were already in Root's fold. You'd grown so fast, so independent. The handful of times I tried to intervene… let's just say circumstances conspired against me. Or maybe that's just another excuse. Even so, I can't erase what happened."

Naruto remained quiet, forging the semblance of internal turmoil. He turned his gaze aside. For a moment, Jiraiya glimpsed something akin to heartbreak in those azure eyes, but it vanished as swiftly as it appeared. "So," Naruto eventually said, "that's it. This past week spent searching for Tsunade, dragging me around for a supposed 'training journey'… was that just part of your strategy too?"

Jiraiya felt a pang of alarm at the question. He shook his head, hair shifting in uneven locks. "No. Well, not entirely. We really do need Tsunade. The village is in dire straits after the Third passed away—someone has to take on the mantle of Hokage. And… she's the best candidate left, if only she'd agree to it."

Naruto's lips curled into a mirthless grin. "Is that so? Because earlier, you said something about me confronting Akatsuki in one of the last towns we visited… it sounded like you already know exactly where Tsunade is."

Caught, Jiraiya gave a trembling sigh. "All right, fine. I do have… leads on Tsunade's location. In fact, I know precisely where she is. I heard rumors that an Akatsuki member was operating in the region we traveled to, and I wanted to see how you'd fare if push came to shove. I had a Toad summoning watching from the sidelines, ready to intervene if you were in real danger."

Naruto nodded, letting the revelation settle. "So basically, while you keep telling me to avoid the Akatsuki, you deliberately threw me in front of an Akatsuki swordsman, Kisame, to test me. That's quite the double standard, sensei."

Jiraiya flushed. "You don't have to put it that bluntly, you know. I— I wanted to confirm your progress. Orochimaru's infiltration in the Forest of Death was one thing, but that might not have been the full measure of your capabilities."

Scratching his head in mock exasperation, Naruto exhaled sharply. "You're a lousy godfather, old man. Also a hypocrite and a liar. Telling me to hide from the Akatsuki while luring me to them… kinda messed up, don't you think?"

Jiraiya gave a half-hearted shrug. His shoulders sagged under the weight of condemnation. "Well… you're not wrong," he admitted, voice subdued.

Amusement flickered in Naruto's eyes. "But you know, I'm not actually mad about that part," he offered, surprising Jiraiya. "Truth be told, I was itching to test my strength against a strong adversary. So in a way, I should be thanking you."

The older man blinked, processing Naruto's statement. "That's… surprising," he said, uncertain if he should feel relieved or worried by the boy's readiness for lethal combat.

Naruto shrugged casually. "I've come to enjoy proving myself. Kisame was the perfect chance. In the end, I came out on top, and now the Akatsuki is fully aware of my potential. So that's a net gain in my book." He smirked, a silent note of satisfaction reverberating in his expression.

Jiraiya studied him intently, grappling with the notion that Naruto had essentially embraced the life of a solitary, borderline mercenary shinobi shaped by Root. "You know," he said softly, "there's more at stake here than just showing off your power. If Tsunade becomes Hokage, she can hold Danzo in check, preserve certain freedoms… including yours. And if the alternative is Danzo taking over, forcing Tsunade back, exposing Nawaki, or Mito… or worse—"

Naruto cut him off with an upraised palm. "I get it. You want me to help you get Tsunade to accept the Hokage seat. And I'm telling you, you don't need to sell me on it. I'm not exactly Danzo's biggest fan. I think it's a no-brainer that Tsunade would be a better leader."

A wave of relief passed over Jiraiya's features. "Thank you," he whispered, though he concealed it quickly, glancing away to maintain a semblance of pride.

Naruto paused, then with a sly smile, he added, "Anyway, sensei, I recall you bragging about a certain item belonging to Tsunade that you keep around for… ahem… personal reasons. Something to do with panties, if I recall?"

Horror replaced relief on Jiraiya's face. "What did you just say?" he sputtered, color flooding his cheeks. "Are you insane? I'd never— I would never settle for…!" His voice caught in his throat as he realized he was about to reveal more than he intended.

Naruto snickered, thoroughly enjoying the older man's discomfort. "Cool down, pervy sage. I was just kidding. But seriously, I need something personal of hers so I can track her down more precisely. Maybe a ring, a hairpin, or a photograph. Something that's strongly associated with her chakra or your… your bond."

Jiraiya glowered, crossing his arms. "You're getting way too cheeky," he muttered. Yet Naruto's suggestion was pragmatic. After all, if Naruto used his Kessetsugan's unique dimensional or tracking abilities, having an item of Tsunade's could expedite the process. Sighing, Jiraiya rummaged inside the folds of his robe and pulled out a small Polaroid photo. A twinge of melancholy flickered in his eyes as he extended it to Naruto.

The photograph depicted a scene from years ago. Nawaki and Mito were only toddlers, dwarfed by Tsunade's protective embrace. Jiraiya stood on the opposite side, arms casually thrown around Tsunade's shoulder. The fleeting sense of a family moment was captured in the still image.

Naruto's gaze lingered on the boy in the picture, the child named Nawaki, before shifting to the girl—Mito. Her features were reminiscent of his own hair color but with a bit of red mixed in, but her eyes were pure, cerulean. Setting aside the swirl of conflicting feelings that threatened to surface, he inhaled and channeled his Kessetsugan. The azure glow illuminated the edges of the photo, shimmering with a soft brilliance that reached across the space like living light.

"You… you're using your Kessetsugan?" Jiraiya asked, voice hushed in awe. Though he knew about Naruto's ocular gift, seeing it in action never ceased to astonish him.

"Yeah," Naruto replied matter-of-factly. The energy flared more brightly, crackling lightly around the photograph. Slowly, he raised his free hand, molding the luminous chakra into a swirling ellipse that hovered in midair. Translucent arcs wove together, forming a portal. Its surface rippled as though made of liquid glass, and Naruto could see the reflection of the two of them and the entire inn room dancing across its shimmering depths.

"Where does it lead?" Jiraiya demanded, gripping his seat so tightly that his knuckles went white.

"Somewhere else," Naruto said simply, and took a step forward. A rush of wind flowed through the portal. "Come on, sensei," he called over his shoulder, stepping into the anomaly with casual confidence. Without waiting for a reply, his form vanished into the swirling energy.

"Kid! Wait!" Jiraiya exclaimed, stumbling out of his chair. Realizing he couldn't afford to let Naruto roam unsupervised, especially with secrets on the line, Jiraiya lunged after him. The portal swallowed him in a flicker of cerulean light, then sealed shut with a soft hiss.

In an instant, the inn room fell silent once more, devoid of both occupant and swirling vortex. The only evidence something extraordinary had occurred was the faint shimmer that clung to the edges of reality, dispersing like vapor.

---

Senju Compound

Night blanketed the Land of Demons, the stars shining bright overhead. Within the estate perched at the outskirts, Tsunade—renowned Sannin and legendary medic—was finishing a day's worth of documents in her secluded study. By the faint candlelight, she scrawled a signature, rubbed tired eyes, and imagined the relief of a warm cup of sake. The place was still; Nawaki and Mito were likely resting or possibly training late outside. Shizune had retired after a busy day. Peace and quiet, at last.

Then, without warning, a faint bluish glow pulsed in the center of her study, expanding rapidly into a luminous portal. Tsunade shot to her feet, heart jostling in her chest. "What in—!?" She formed a quick sequence of hand signs, chakra surging in her limbs, ready to strike whoever emerged.

The portal's surface rippled, and out stepped a face she knew all too well: Jiraiya. Just behind him, a teenage boy with golden hair hopped out, wearing an odd half-smile on his face. Before Tsunade could question her husband's sudden intrusion, the swirling portal collapsed with a muted pop, disappearing entirely.

"Jiraiya, what the hell are you doing—?" Tsunade started, but her gaze was quickly riveted to the unfamiliar teenager. She noted his uncanny resemblance to Minato, from the bright, sun-kissed locks to the sharp outline of his jaw. Her eyes flickered with suspicion. "And who is… that?"

Naruto sized her up, undeterred by her fierce aura. "Man," he said, rubbing an ear, "she's a loud one. How do you even live with her, sensei?" He made the remark pointedly at Jiraiya.

Offended, Tsunade bristled, stepping forward in challenge. But Jiraiya quickly placed himself between them, arms outstretched. "Calm down, Tsuna. He's… well, he's complicated," he offered, failing to hide his exasperation. "Long story."

Tsunade, eyes still blazing, jabbed a finger toward the boy. "No stranger is allowed here. You've always known that. You think it's fine to just pop in unannounced with some brat?"

Jiraiya's gaze darted from Tsunade to Naruto. "It's not so simple," he murmured. Then, in a tone heavy with significance, he continued, "Meet Naruto Uzumaki. He's… Minato and Kushina's boy." He let the words hang.

All defiance drained from Tsunade's expression, replaced by stunned recognition. She blinked, looking between Naruto's face—shockingly reminiscent of Minato's—and the cerulean gaze that hinted of Kushina's fiery spirit. "You're… you're little Naruto?" Her voice softened. For a fleeting second, she seemed disarmed.

Any gentleness vanished as Naruto turned to Jiraiya. "Well, I've done my part, sensei. Time for me to go." He created a fresh portal with his Kessetsugan, the swirling energy shimmering anew.

"What do you mean, you can't just—!" Jiraiya started, stepping closer. "We need you here to talk about—"

Naruto shook his head, flipping a casual wave with his hand. "Nope. You've got this. I showed you I can handle myself against Akatsuki, so we're good." He pivoted to look at Tsunade one last time, noticing the shock still etched on her features. "He can fill you in, Lady Tsunade. I've got other things to do."

Tsunade, regaining composure, tried to block him, but Jiraiya lightly touched her arm, signaling her to wait. "Naruto, hold on. Don't you want to meet Mito? Or your father, Minato, who's… well, you might already know he's awake." His voice carried a note of pleading. "We can talk. Sort this out."

For a moment, Naruto's face was unreadable as he considered the offer. Then he gave a dismissive shrug. "Not now. Maybe later. It's not a priority." Without another word, he stepped through the portal. The swirling gateway sealed shut behind him, leaving a swirl of shimmering motes in the air.

Tsunade whirled around, eyes ablaze with questions. "What the hell is going on, Jiraiya?" she demanded, half-lost in confusion and adrenaline. "He's—he's the one Minato… I've never met him. Was he always able to do that?" She gestured to the spot where the portal had vanished, exasperation thick in her tone.

Jiraiya ran a tired hand through his hair. "It's… complicated," he said again, the words sounding hollow. He noticed the stoop in Tsunade's posture, how she braced for news of trouble. He recognized the welling mixture of curiosity and dread in her eyes. "We've got a lot to discuss."

Her stance softened, but her expression remained firm. "Well, start talking, you big oaf. I just saw you appear out of thin air with a kid rumored to have connections to the village's darkest secrets, and you expect me not to have questions?"

Jiraiya managed a weary laugh. "Fair enough. Let's just say… it's a long story, Tsunade. A damn long one. The world's spinning faster than we realized. The Third is gone, Danzo's making moves, and we need you more than ever in Konoha. Not to mention Nawaki and Mito."

Tsunade clenched her fists. "Nawaki and Mito are my children. And your bringing that boy here, does that compromise our location? Are we safe?"

Jiraiya sighed, shoulders slumping in resignation. "Naruto's not going to rat you out. He's got no reason to; he doesn't care about that. In fact… he doesn't really care about much, if I'm honest." The final admission felt like a punch to the gut, recalling Naruto's 'heartbreak' and cynicism.

Locking eyes, Tsunade gestured to a small cabinet, pulling out a bottle of sake. "We'll see about safe. Sit down, let's talk. I want every detail, Jiraiya. About Naruto, the village, everything. Start from the beginning, and don't you dare leave anything out."

A faint, melancholic smile touched Jiraiya's lips. "All right, Tsuna," he said, taking the offered cup. "I suppose we've both got time tonight."

The lamp in the corner flickered, casting dancing shadows across the room. Outside, the night air in the Land of Demons remained peaceful under a star-drenched sky, unaware of the swirling revelations unfolding within that estate's study.

They sank into chairs, letting the tension unravel in the echoing hush. Tsunade poured two cups, wordlessly handing one to her husband. He nodded in thanks. The warmth of the drink might take the edge off the conversation to come.

As they settled, Jiraiya inhaled deeply, steeling himself to speak. "Where to begin?" he asked softly. "So much is about to change…"

His words trailed off, merging with the night's silence. Outside, the moon glowed, a silent witness to the secrets about to be laid bare. And in the quiet of that moment, the fates of families and villages turned on the cusp of a choice yet to be made.

---

Unknown Location

Deep within a shadowy, cavernous space, the towering visage of the Gedo Mazo loomed ominously, its grotesque form illuminated only by the flickering glow of the holographic projections of eight figures. Each member of the infamous Akatsuki organization stood upon the tips of the massive statue's fingers, their translucent forms casting eerie reflections onto the cavern walls.

Silence reigned as the holograms fully materialized, save for the soft hum of an unearthly energy emanating from the statue. Finally, the voice of their leader, a man with deep-purple ripple-patterned eyes—the Rinnegan—broke the tension.

"What news do you bring of the encounter with the Kyuubi jinchuuriki?" Pain's voice was calm but carried an undeniable edge of authority.

Itachi Uchiha, his Sharingan eyes glowing even in his ethereal form, stepped forward slightly, his tone measured and composed as always. "Leader-sama, the mission was... unsuccessful."

"Unsuccessful?" The blue-haired woman, Konan, turned her sharp gaze toward him, her voice tinged with surprise and concern. "Explain."

"We tracked the jinchuuriki to a small town," Itachi began. "However, the situation quickly escalated. Naruto Uzumaki was not traveling alone. Jiraiya, the Toad Sage, accompanied him as expected. What we didn't anticipate was the extent of the jinchuuriki's abilities—or his resolve."

Pain's gaze narrowed. "Go on."

Itachi took a steadying breath before continuing. "After Kisame and I separated, I maintained surveillance while Kisame engaged the jinchuuriki directly. His intent was to test the boy's capabilities before bringing him in. What transpired was… unexpected."

"Unexpected how?" Kakazu the man with a black colored mask covering his lower face, interjected, his voice laced with skepticism. "You're both some of the most formidable members of this organization. What opposition could a child possibly offer."

Itachi's crimson eyes flashed dangerously, but he kept his composure. "Naruto Uzumaki is no ordinary jinchuuriki, as we all suspected. Kisame underestimated him, and it cost him his life."

The room fell silent, save for the slight hum of energy coursing through the statue. The holographic figures exchanged tense glances, some clearly struggling to reconcile what they had just heard.

"How exactly did it happen?" asked Deidara, the blonde man whose smirk faltered for once. "Kisame was a monster in his own right, yeah. His massive chakra reserves notwithstanding, he had his sword, Samehada."

Itachi's gaze remained steady. "Kisame engaged the jinchuuriki directly, relying on Samehada to counter the Kyuubi's chakra. What neither of us accounted for was the boy's mastery over not just the tailed beast's power but also his innate abilities. He is far stronger than we had anticipated. More importantly, he is far more dangerous than we gave him credit for."

"Dangerous how?" queried Sasori, his voice devoid of emotion, much like the puppets he commanded.

"Kisame's strength lies in his overwhelming physical power and Samehada's ability to absorb chakra. Naruto not only matched him in raw strength but outmaneuvered him, using a combination of shadow clones, sealing techniques, and his Kessetsugan—a dojutsu that appears to be unique to him."

The room erupted in whispers and murmurs.

"Kessetsugan?" Zetsu, the plant-like figure, spoke up, his tone intrigued. "I've never heard of such a dojutsu. What does it do?"

Itachi's eyes darkened. "It's unclear. What I can confirm is that it allowed him to completely reverse Kisame's advantage, even severing Samehada's connection to him. Once he achieved this, the battle was over. Kisame was rendered helpless, his chakra drained, and Naruto… decapitated him."

"Decapitated?" Konan echoed, disbelief coloring her usually calm voice.

"Yes," Itachi confirmed, his tone grim. "Naruto Uzumaki is not the naive child he once was. His time away from Konoha, coupled with whatever training he has undergone, has forged him into a warrior who should not be underestimated."

The man with the swirling mask chuckled darkly. "Interesting. The brat's grown some teeth. But surely you didn't just stand by and let all this happen, Itachi."

Itachi's gaze turned cold as he shifted his attention to the masked figure. "I did not. I engaged the jinchuuriki myself after Kisame's death. My intent was to gauge his capabilities further and, if necessary, report back to the organization. What I discovered was troubling."

"What did you discover?" Pain's voice cut through the murmurs, commanding silence once more.

Itachi's voice dropped slightly, as if the weight of his words carried a burden. "Naruto Uzumaki has achieved a level of control over the Kyuubi's chakra that I have only seen in legends. He unleashed a state that resembled the Kyuubi's full form, enveloping himself in a chakra cloak with all nine tails manifesting. In this state, he displayed a destructive capability that rivals the greatest threats we have faced. He shattered my Tsukuyomi and forced me to retreat."

"He broke your Tsukuyomi?" the Kakazu repeated, his tone now genuinely intrigued. "Impressive."

"And troubling," Pain interjected. "If what you say is true, Naruto Uzumaki represents a significant obstacle to our plans. Kisame's death is a severe loss, but his report has provided valuable insight. Zetsu."

"Yes, leader-sama?" Zetsu responded immediately.

"From now on, I want constant surveillance on the Kyuubi jinchuuriki. Monitor his movements, his allies, and his training. Report back to me directly with any new developments."

"As you wish," Zetsu replied before disappearing into the shadows.

Pain turned his gaze back to Itachi. "Do you believe he can be captured?"

Itachi hesitated for the first time, a rare occurrence for the usually unflappable Uchiha. "Not easily. If we are to succeed, we will need to adjust our strategy. He is no longer the weak link we believed him to be."

"Then we wait," Pain concluded. "Naruto Uzumaki will remain the last jinchuuriki we target. For now, focus on the other tailed beasts. When the time comes, I will personally ensure his capture."

With that, the meeting was adjourned. One by one, the holographic figures flickered and disappeared, leaving only Pain and Konan behind in the dim light of the cavern.

"Itachi's report was… unexpected," Konan said after a moment of silence.

"It was," Pain agreed, his Rinnegan eyes narrowing. "But it changes nothing. No one, not even the Kyuubi jinchuuriki, can stand against the will of Pain."

"And what of Madara?" Konan asked quietly, her gaze shifting to the masked man. "He will not take Kisame's death lightly."

"Madara will deal with this in his own way," Pain said, his voice carrying an air of finality. "For now, we proceed as planned. The boy's strength is concerning, but it will not deter us. The world will bow to the Akatsuki's vision of peace."