The Cursed Sage

Naruto's small hand rubbed at his head as he groggily sat up, feeling the stiffness of the hospital sheets beneath him, the weight of an IV line in his arm a faint, pulsing reminder of where he was. The dim light filtering through the hospital's window cast strange, angular shadows across the room—white walls staring back at him, the quiet hum of medical machines a soft, steady reminder of life. His eyes drifted around, seeking something familiar, something that would anchor him to the moment.

And then, he saw them.

Across the room, his father, Minato, sat in a worn chair, deep into reading a scroll, his face drawn and weary, as if he hadn't slept in days. His mother, Kushina, was right by his bed, slouched in a chair, her head tilted awkwardly to one side, her bright red hair a tangled mess that framed her face like a halo, though a restless, haunted one. She looked exhausted, almost ghostly under the fluorescent hospital lights, as though she had kept a vigil over him, unwilling to leave his side, her presence a silent, stubborn refusal to let him slip away again.

Naruto shifted slightly, the faint rustle of sheets catching Minato's attention. Minato's eyes darted up, and in an instant, his whole expression softened, relief flooding his features. He set the scroll down hastily and crossed the room, his movements almost urgent, as if he feared Naruto might vanish if he didn't reach him fast enough.

"Naruto!" Minato's voice was barely a whisper, hushed, almost reverent, as though he were afraid that speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile peace of the moment. "You awake? How are you feeling, buddy?" His words were gentle, but there was a tremor in his tone, a shadow of worry that clung to every syllable.

Naruto blinked slowly, rubbing at his tired eyes, trying to banish the lingering fog of sleep. His throat felt parched, his voice small and scratchy as he murmured, "Water?"

Minato didn't hesitate. He grabbed a glass of water from a small table by the bed, bringing it to Naruto's lips with a kind of tenderness that made Naruto's chest ache. But before Naruto could even drink, there was a stirring beside him. Kushina's eyes fluttered open, her gaze unfocused for a brief, disoriented second. But then, she saw him.

In that instant, all weariness vanished from her face, replaced by raw, unfiltered relief. Without a word, she surged forward, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him close with a fierce, almost desperate strength. Her voice was thick with emotion, choked and trembling as she whispered, "Oh, Naruto… Naruto, my baby… I thought—I thought you were gone. A whole month, and I thought…" Her words broke off, dissolving into a sob as she buried her face in his small shoulder, her fingers clutching him as though she feared he might slip away again.

Naruto sat there, stunned, letting her warmth envelop him. Gone… for a month? The words felt strange, foreign, like they belonged to someone else's story. He nodded slowly, letting her presence anchor him, grounding him in a reality that felt fragile and strange. He sipped the water his father held to his lips, the coolness soothing his parched throat as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts.

"What… happened?" he managed, his voice soft, his gaze shifting from his mother's tear-streaked face to his father's guarded expression. The question hung heavy in the air, a single thread in the labyrinth of mysteries surrounding him.

Minato and Kushina exchanged a glance, a wordless conversation passing between them, each of them reluctant to break the silence, to shatter the fragile peace that hung over the room. Finally, Minato spoke, his voice careful, as if each word was a weight he had to carry. "A lot happened while you were… gone," he admitted, his gaze steady, but there was an unease there, a heaviness that Naruto didn't miss. "Things in the village… they've been unstable. For many reasons. And you… you've become a part of that."

Kushina's hand tightened on his shoulder, her eyes soft but filled with something deeper, something darker. "Naruto, we need to talk," she murmured, her voice trembling slightly, as though she were afraid of what they might uncover.

Minato's voice was firmer now, his tone filled with a quiet intensity. "Naruto, ever since your first C-rank mission, you've changed. You've grown… stronger. Your power… it's beyond anything we ever expected. You're not the same little boy who left this village. And we need to understand why."

Naruto looked down, a shadow flickering in his young eyes, an expression that seemed far too old, too knowing for his face. "I—I don't know, Dad," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "Maybe I just… got lucky?"

But his father wasn't buying it, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if he could see through Naruto's words, peeling back the layers to the truth hidden beneath. "Naruto," he began, his voice low, "this isn't just luck. This is something else, something…"

Before he could finish, a voice interrupted from the doorway, a familiar, cheerful voice that cut through the tension like a knife.

"Lucky, huh?" Jiraiya's figure loomed in the doorway, a grin spreading across his face as he sauntered in, hands on his hips, his eyes dancing with a mischievous light. "Kid, you did more than just 'get lucky.' You saved my hide and Hiruzen's too! Can you imagine that—a three-year-old bailing us out?" He chuckled, though there was a keen edge to his gaze as he studied Naruto.

Kushina let out a soft, incredulous laugh, her fingers running gently through Naruto's hair. "Naruto, you've been gone for a month, and already you're the talk of the village… of everywhere," she murmured, shaking her head in a mix of pride and concern. "How did you get so… so strong?"

Jiraiya's smile faded slightly as he walked over, his expression growing solemn. "But that's not why I'm here. I've come with a message—a prophecy." He paused, glancing between Minato and Kushina. "The Great Toad Sage himself delivered it."

Naruto tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "A prophecy?" His voice was soft, tentative.

Jiraiya nodded, his expression grave. "Yes, kid. The prophecy says that a child with blue eyes will reunite the Tailed Beasts and bring peace to the world." He looked at Minato and Kushina, his face conflicted. "I've always thought Minato was the Child of Prophecy, but… Naruto, there's something about you."

Minato's brow furrowed, his gaze shifting to Naruto's violet eyes. "But… Naruto has violet eyes," he pointed out, his tone laced with doubt, his fingers tapping absently against the bed frame.

Jiraiya shrugged, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Yeah, I know. But I can't shake the feeling… there's something beyond us at work here." His voice softened as he looked at Naruto. "Naruto may have been blessed by the Honored One… the same entity that blessed Hashirama Senju."

Kushina's eyes widened, her hand tightening on Naruto's shoulder, her face pale. "The Honored One? The one who gave Hashirama his powers… you think Naruto was blessed by it, too?"

Jiraiya's voice was almost a whisper, his gaze fixed on Naruto. "Other nations are already calling him the 'Crystal Sage,' thanks to his Crystal Release. He used it on the Four-Tails, subdued it the same way Hashirama did. And the sage mode…" He trailed off, his expression a mixture of awe and dread. "The whole shinobi world knows now. Naruto is feared… and wanted. There's a bounty on him—ten million ryo."

Naruto's mouth fell open, surprise flashing across his face. "A… bounty?"

Minato nodded, his face grim. "Yes. After our mission to destroy the Kannabi Bridge… everything changed. It's dangerous now, Naruto. You're a target."

Naruto tilted his head, confusion mingling with curiosity. "What's the Kannabi Mission?"

Minato's face grew sad, his voice barely a whisper. "It was a mission to cut off Iwa's supplies by destroying the Kannabi Bridge."

Naruto blinked. "So?"

Minato's voice was a hollow echo. "It was… a success. Now, I'm an SS-rank shinobi, and I've been nominated for Hokage."

"But…" Naruto could sense the sorrow in his father's voice, a lingering regret.

Minato took a deep breath, his voice barely a murmur. "Team Seven was with me. Rin… she was kidnapped. Kakashi… lost an eye. And Obito… Obito gave his life to save his friends."

Kushina's voice was thick with emotion as she added, "He died a hero, Naruto."

Naruto's eyes widened, his mind racing with a flurry of thoughts, memories. His mind drifted to the 'Return by Dragon' technique, a forbidden technique he'd learned in his endless lifetimes, a technique to reset time. He'd used it countless times before, resetting, escaping, undoing. A secret only he knew.

Naruto's hand moved, almost instinctively, his fingers forming the beginnings of a familiar hand sign. Just a few gestures and murmured words, and he could turn back the clock, erase everything he'd just heard. He could undo the month he'd been gone, make it all vanish like a bad dream.

But as his fingers hovered, ready to complete the sign, he glanced up and caught his mother's gaze. She was watching him intently, her eyes full of love, fear, and a sadness so deep it looked endless. She wasn't looking at him like a child prodigy or some strange miracle; she was just a mother, afraid of losing her son. And that look, that raw vulnerability, rooted him to the spot, stilling his hand.

Naruto exhaled, letting his fingers drop back to his side. He gave his mother a small, tired smile, hoping to reassure her, even as doubts and questions swirled in his mind. "I... I'm here, Mom," he whispered, feeling the words tremble on his lips. "I won't go anywhere." He wasn't sure if he was making a promise to her or to himself.

Kushina's face softened, a tremor of relief breaking through her mask of worry. She reached out, smoothing back his messy blond hair, her hand lingering, as if grounding herself with the simple feel of him. "That's all we need, Naruto," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Just stay with us. Whatever happens… just stay."

Minato stepped forward, his face solemn, yet softening as he looked between his son and wife. "Naruto," he began slowly, his voice steady but with an edge of hesitation, "we can't pretend that things will be the same. The world knows who you are now. Some see you as a miracle… others as a threat. And there are people out there, powerful people, who would do anything to control or eliminate you."

Naruto glanced away, his young face shadowed. He had felt this before—the weight of expectations, the burning gaze of a world that both wanted and feared him. But this time, it felt different. There was something darker lurking beneath, an undertone of dread that sent chills down his spine. The village, the other nations… they weren't just watching him. They were waiting.

Jiraiya, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up, his usually cheerful demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristic gravity. "Kid, it's not just about your strength. There are ancient powers… forces that lie beyond the borders of this world. They're stirring, and somehow, they're tied to you."

Naruto furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of Jiraiya's cryptic words. "What do you mean?"

Jiraiya let out a weary sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "The Honored One… the spirit that once blessed Hashirama Senju, granting him his unique abilities. I believe it's involved somehow." His voice softened, and he glanced at Minato and Kushina. "I didn't want to say this, but… the Great Toad Sage had a vision."

Kushina's eyes widened, her grip on Naruto tightening unconsciously. "A vision?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Jiraiya nodded solemnly. "In his vision, he saw a child, surrounded by flames and shadows, standing at the center of a shattered world. This child, he said, has the power to unite or destroy all. The world will either be saved… or fall into darkness. And, well…" He hesitated, his gaze resting on Naruto. "He believes that child is you."

Naruto's heart pounded, a chill crawling up his spine. Him? The child in the prophecy? His mind flashed to the moments he'd used the Crystal Release, the strange, powerful energy that had coursed through him, transforming him, making him feel like something far more than a child. Was that power a blessing… or a curse?

Minato placed a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder. "Naruto," he said softly, "you're not alone in this. Whatever the future holds, we're here. We'll face it together. But… you have to be careful. The power you hold… it's something beyond what anyone has seen. It could bring peace… or it could bring devastation."

Naruto swallowed hard, his gaze drifting down to his hands. He remembered the feeling of that power—the way it had surged through him, filling every fiber of his being with a strength he couldn't explain. It was intoxicating, terrifying. And now, knowing that the entire shinobi world was watching, waiting to see what he would do… the weight of it settled heavily on his shoulders.

"But… I don't know how to control it," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "It just… happens. Like something takes over."

Kushina exchanged a look with Minato, worry flickering in her eyes. "Naruto," she said gently, "that's why we're here. We'll help you learn to control it. To understand it. You don't have to face this alone."

Jiraiya cleared his throat, his tone shifting to something more fatherly, almost soft. "Look, kid… I've seen a lot of powerful people in my life, but none of them started out knowing what they were doing. Power like yours… it takes time. It's not something you just wake up and understand. But the Great Toad Sage has faith in you. And so do I."

Naruto looked at each of them, their faces a mix of love, worry, and hope. For the first time since waking up, he felt a glimmer of something else—determination. If he was going to be this "child of prophecy," this so-called "Crystal Sage," then he'd make sure he was ready. He would find a way to control this power, to use it for something good.

But as he glanced down, his fingers twitching with the memory of that hand sign, a dark thought lingered in the back of his mind. The Return by Dragon… his escape, his reset, the forbidden technique that could undo everything. If things went wrong, if he couldn't control this power… he could always reset, escape back to another beginning, another life.

Naruto looked up at his family, his gaze steady. He gave them a small, uncertain smile, nodding. "I'll give this reality a chance," he whispered, barely loud enough for them to hear. "I'll stay, for now."

But in his heart, hidden deep within the shadows of his mind, the thought lingered, lurking like a dark promise.

If things don't work out… well, I can always reset.

Ō~Ō

The war had finally ended six months after Naruto's last reset. Yet, the scars it left were etched deep and raw in Konoha and far beyond its borders. The official tally painted a grim picture: Konoha lost a third of its military strength, the faces of countless shinobi etched forever into memorial stones. The Fire Country had its own toll to bear—three thousand civilian deaths, each one another ghost for Naruto to carry, another silent memory he couldn't quite shake. Seven billion ryo drained from their coffers, yet even as the village counted its losses, they were being called "lucky."

For Konoha, fortune was relative. Iwa's military had been shattered beyond repair, Kumo had buried thousands of civilians and lost territory, Suna was ravaged by famine and drowning in debt, and Kiri had seen its once-feared shinobi force decimated beyond recognition. The war's shadow loomed heavy over everyone, indiscriminate in its cruelty. It left no soul untouched, and every country had someone to mourn.

Naruto's Team Seven had lost two of their own—Obito, whose fierce determination and unwavering loyalty had been snuffed out far too soon, and Rin, who died a few months later, leaving a hole in their lives that couldn't be filled. Kakashi was a shell of his former self, his eyes hollow, burdened with guilt and grief that no one could truly reach. He would sit alone, shoulders hunched, gripping the memorial stone as if he could somehow cling to what he'd lost.

And Gai… Gai's father had given his life for him, burning as brightly as he had lived. His sacrifice was one of love, the ultimate act of a parent, and it had left Gai behind with a heavy heart and a quiet resolve to live up to his father's last act. Gone was the carefree friend Naruto had known; Gai was still strong, still fierce, but he bore a sadness that lingered in his eyes.

The war was brutal, relentless in its toll, and every new death, every whispered story of sacrifice, every tear-streaked face was another blow to Naruto's spirit. He had reset the timeline time and time again, trying desperately to save everyone, only to watch them die again in different ways. And yet, through it all, his parents—Minato and Kushina—never broke. They faced each day with hope and courage, smiling at him even in the darkest hours, grounding him in their love and showing him strength.

If they could survive the nightmare, why couldn't he?

But as three more months slipped by, Naruto began to wonder. He was four years old now, the years passing as he built tentative friendships with those around him. Yuagō and Chōza had become constants in his life. They treated him like he was normal, like he wasn't some strange, ancient soul trapped in a child's body. Yuagō even started dating a boy named Hayate. Naruto remembered one day, clear as anything, when she looked at him, her face glowing with excitement.

"You know," she teased, poking him in the ribs, "when Hayate and I have kids, you'll have to be their godfather. 'Uncle Naruto' has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Naruto blinked, unsure how to respond. "I'm four, and you don't even have kids," he said, laughing despite himself.

Yuagō smirked, crossing her arms. "You're just gonna have to be patient, Uncle Naruto!" she teased, and from that day on, she made a point of calling him that every chance she got. A small, unexpected joy nestled into his heart each time she said it.

As another year crept by, Naruto found himself settling into this reality, starting to believe that maybe—just maybe—he could live with it. He had begun to accept things as they were. Kakashi was growing, not into the cold, efficient shinobi he had been in past lives, but into something warmer, more open. Naruto even caught him reading one of Jiraiya's novels, trying to act nonchalant about it, though a faint blush betrayed him. Kakashi seemed more like Obito now, mischievous and spirited. Asuma and Kurenai were circling each other with a shy, playful chemistry, pretending they weren't dating but sharing glances that said otherwise. They were moving on. They were healing. And Naruto—well, he was learning to be a part of it.

Yet, it wasn't enough. Not really.

Every time he caught a fleeting moment of happiness, it was soured by something darker, a shadow of a memory that refused to let go. Ever since he received the Honored One's blessing, awakening the Crystal Release and feeling the raw, overwhelming power of the Kekkei Tōta, he had grown to hate himself. He couldn't stomach the thought of killing anymore, something he'd done over and over for lifetimes. The very thought of it filled him with a deep, bone-aching disgust.

When he tried to eat, savoring a warm meal prepared by Kushina or Minato, it tasted wrong. He couldn't enjoy the food. Every bite felt like sand and mud, like blood and flesh. He would sit, staring at his plate, remembering faces of those he'd killed—countless people across countless resets. He saw them vividly, too vividly.

There was a little girl, giggling with an ice cream cone in her hand, eyes bright with happiness before he…

He had gouged the eyes from people who'd stared up at him with nothing but terror—innocent souls who had done nothing to deserve the violence he brought down on them. Their cries haunted him, looping endlessly in his mind like a relentless storm. There was a young man, barely older than he was now, clutching a necklace and praying to whatever god might listen to him, his voice trembling as he asked for mercy. Naruto hadn't given it. He remembered the man's eyes going wide as he realised his prayers had fallen on deaf ears.

He remembered families gathered at dinner tables, warm lights casting cozy glows across their faces as they laughed together, passing food from plate to plate, smiles bright and carefree. His blade had cut through those moments, splattering blood across pristine white tablecloths. The scent of freshly cooked food now brought bile to his throat, reminding him only of blood and desperation.

He had murdered millions while they were unarmed and asleep. Any comfortable bed is now a curse.

He had killed people at weddings, clad in new clothes. Any good yukata is now a curse.

He couldn't sleep. He couldn't rest. He was dying from the inside.

Naruto had done more than just take lives—he had shattered worlds, ripped apart countless families, and snuffed out futures that were just beginning. And though those lives were restored with each reset, he could still feel them. Every horrified scream, every desperate plea, every curse hurled at him in those final moments—they clung to him, heavy and unshakeable.

Sometimes, the memories of those screams would twist his dreams into nightmares, and he would jolt awake, breathing hard and drenched in cold sweat, his small body trembling under the weight of centuries of sin. He'd clutch at the sheets, looking around the room as if the ghosts of his past would materialize out of the shadows.

And they were always there, in the periphery of his vision, lingering, waiting. A silent army of the dead, all watching him with hollow eyes and blood-stained faces. He could see them in the edges of his mind, feel their accusing stares as they surrounded him, their broken voices still ringing in his ears.

True, they were now alive due to the reset. But he cannot forget those screams, beggings, yellings, curses…

'P-please, spare my dad!'

'Kill me instead!'

'May you burn in hell, monster!'

'I am pregnant, please spare my baby…'

'Kill you… kill you… kill you…'

Naruto clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, willing himself not to scream. He was four years old now, yet he felt like he'd lived a thousand lifetimes— which was true. Every smile he forced onto his face felt like a lie, every laugh an insult to the countless souls he had taken. His body was young, his face innocent, but his heart was blackened, stained beyond recognition.

"I don't deserve to live," he would whisper to himself, the words barely audible in the darkness of his room, swallowed up by the silence.

But then… there was always Minato and Kushina. Their smiles, their warmth, their unwavering love. They were his tether to this world, the only reason he hadn't shattered completely under the weight of his sins. They didn't know the monster that lurked within him, the darkness he carried in his heart. They looked at him and saw a child—a son, a hope for the future. They had no idea that every time he looked back at them, he felt like an imposter, a hollow shell hiding behind a mask of innocence.

One night, as he lay in bed, his eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling, he heard the soft creak of the door. Kushina stepped in, her face silhouetted against the dim light from the hallway. She walked over to his bed quietly, her expression soft, loving. Without a word, she pulled the covers up around him, brushing his hair gently away from his forehead.

"Can't sleep, huh?" she asked in a whisper, her voice like a balm on his tormented soul. Naruto swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in his throat. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Kushina smiled, bending down to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. "You know, whenever I couldn't sleep, my mom would tell me this story about a brave little puppy. She'd say, 'No matter how dark the night, no matter how many shadows it faced, the little puppy always found its way home, back to the ones who loved it.'"

Naruto felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, his heart aching at her words. He wanted so badly to believe that he was that little puppy, that he could somehow find his way back to them, find a way to be whole again. But he couldn't. He was no brave puppy. He was something twisted, something dark, and there was no way he could ever tell her the truth.

They would hate him. Forever.

So he just nodded, swallowing back his emotions, his small hand reaching out to grasp hers. Kushina stayed there, her thumb gently tracing circles over his hand until his breathing evened out, his eyes finally drifting shut. And for a moment, in the warmth of her presence, the shadows in his mind seemed to recede, leaving him with a fleeting sense of peace.

But as soon as the door closed behind her, they were back—the voices, the faces, the weight of his sins pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. And Naruto knew, as he lay there in the darkness, that this peace was just an illusion, a fragile lie he told himself to make it through another day.

Ō~Ō

Time drifted by like leaves on a river, carrying Naruto forward, whether he wanted it or not. He was only seven, but already he felt ancient, like he'd lived through ages that no child should know. So much had changed, yet some things clung to him, unshakeable as shadows.

When Minato was named Hokage, the village celebrated, chanting his father's name through the streets, showering him with confetti, admiration thick in the air. Naruto was there, too, standing beside his parents, sharing in their happiness—or at least pretending to. Minato's face shone with pride, and Kushina clung to him, her smile brighter than ever, eyes glimmering with joy. They were beautiful moments, these brief instants of pure family pride. But Naruto felt like an intruder in his own life, standing on the outside of his own family.

They had no idea who he really was. If they knew the darkness lurking inside, the things he'd done, would they still love him? Or would they recoil, like everyone else who had ever learned the truth? Definitely the latter.

Not everyone was happy with Minato becoming the Hokage. Like Fugaku Uchiha, Danzo Shimura and Orochimaru.

The first time Orochimaru approached him, Naruto was standing on the training grounds alone, watching the wind stir the dust across the open space. He hadn't noticed the tall figure until Orochimaru's shadow stretched beside him, dark and deliberate, like a cloud passing over the sun. The snake sannin's smile was one that unsettled most people—thin, calculating, a smile that seemed to hide more than it showed. But Naruto barely flinched.

"So," Orochimaru drawled, his voice smooth and low, "You have a rather unique skill set, Naruto."

Naruto didn't meet his gaze. "I've trained," he replied flatly, his words carefully measured. He knew enough about Orochimaru to know that the man was curious—dangerously so. There was always something disconcerting about the way he looked at people, as if he could see right through them, as if he were examining a particularly fascinating specimen.

Orochimaru let out a soft chuckle. "Training alone doesn't account for everything you're capable of, now does it? Kekkei Tota, quite the rare gift," he murmured, his yellow eyes gleaming with interest. "I imagine you could do things that most can only dream of."

Naruto remained silent, but the memory of his powers churned within him like a cold, bitter tide. His hands were weapons, his very existence laced with a dangerous strength he hadn't asked for. Orochimaru, though, seemed fascinated by it, like a collector admiring a rare artifact.

"Imagine what you could achieve," Orochimaru continued, his voice almost hypnotic, "if you truly embraced your potential. If you let yourself go beyond the limitations of tradition." He reached into his sleeve, drawing out a vial filled with a faintly glowing liquid. "Just a little of your blood," he said with a smile, tilting the vial between his long fingers. "For… study."

Naruto's eyes narrowed, his distrust sharpening like a blade. "What are you trying to do?"

"Change the world, of course," Orochimaru replied smoothly, still smiling. "You see, Naruto, there are paths in this world that most are too afraid to follow. Knowledge waiting to be unearthed, power lying dormant." He held the vial closer. "And with your help, we could unlock secrets no one has dared touch."

Naruto's stomach twisted, a cold chill crawling up his spine. He knew Orochimaru's reputation, the whispers about his experiments, the dark rumors that surrounded him like shadows. The idea of being used as a tool, as something to be dissected and analyzed, left a bitter taste in his mouth.

But Orochimaru didn't push further, at least not then. He simply chuckled, slipping the vial back into his cloak. "Think about it, Naruto," he said, his voice soft, almost coaxing. "You have the power to change more than just yourself. Imagine what you could do if you truly embraced it." And with that, he turned, his cloak sweeping behind him as he vanished into the shadows, leaving Naruto standing alone with the unsettling weight of his words echoing in his mind.

The celebration for Naruto's promotion to Jounin was held on a warm evening in one of Konoha's quieter districts, at a cozy little restaurant that Kakashi had chosen. The atmosphere was relaxed and cheerful, the lanterns casting a warm glow across the tables, their light flickering as laughter and conversation filled the air. Everyone from his squad was there, along with some of the other jounin who had helped him along the way.

Gai was the first to greet him, clapping him on the back with a grin that could light up the village. "Naruto! A true embodiment of the power of youth!" he exclaimed, his eyes practically sparkling. "A Jounin already, and at such a young age! Ah, your flames of passion must be burning brighter than ever!"

Naruto managed a small smile, nodding. "Thanks, Gai." Gai's enthusiasm was always infectious, and tonight, it was almost enough to push away the shadows that lingered in Naruto's mind.

Kurenai and Asuma approached, their arms full of small wrapped gifts. Asuma handed him a package with a smirk. "Here, kid. It's just a little something to help you stay sharp. You've got a lot of potential, and we want to see where you'll take it."

Naruto unwrapped it to find a set of finely-crafted kunai, their blades gleaming even in the dim light. He looked up, a soft gratitude in his eyes. "Thanks, Asuma. These are… really nice."

Kurenai gave him a gentle smile. "You've worked hard, Naruto. Becoming a Jounin at your age is no small feat." She tilted her head, her eyes warm but curious. "But remember, it's not just about strength. The heart matters, too."

Naruto nodded, his throat tightening. These people—they believed in him, celebrated his achievements without knowing the weight he carried. He felt a pang of guilt, but he pushed it down, focusing on the warmth surrounding him.

Genma, standing a little off to the side, raised a glass in Naruto's direction, his eyes crinkling with approval. "To Naruto," he said, his voice soft yet clear. "A shinobi who's come a long way and will no doubt go even further."

Naruto's cheeks flushed as everyone lifted their glasses, voices rising in a cheerful toast. "To Naruto!"

It was strange, feeling celebrated. The sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filled the room, and for a moment, Naruto allowed himself to believe that he belonged here, that he was just another kid celebrating a milestone with his friends. His father's arm was draped around his shoulders, Kushina beaming beside him. They were proud of him, and that knowledge filled a corner of his heart he'd almost forgotten was there.

As the evening wound down, Naruto found himself standing by the window, looking out into the night. The stars were scattered across the sky, distant yet beautiful, and he wondered if there would ever come a day when he'd feel as light and free as they seemed.

Gai sidled up beside him, a friendly grin on his face. "Naruto," he said quietly, "I know things aren't always easy. But remember, youth is about facing each day with fresh eyes. No matter what came before, each sunrise is a new start."

Naruto looked up at him, his eyes softening. "Thanks, Gai."

Naruto had tried to bury the past memories, but they were stubborn. Images of faces he'd cut down without mercy, of young mothers with babies in their arms, of children who never got to grow up. Sometimes, he'd wake up at night, drenched in sweat, his mind racing with visions of lives he'd ended, innocent souls who'd done nothing to deserve the cruelty he'd brought upon them. In those moments, he'd feel his heart tighten, his breath hitch, as if some invisible weight was pressing down on him, suffocating him.

And then came the news that tore him apart, bit by bit.

"You're gonna be a big brother, dattebane!"

Kushina's voice was full of joy as she delivered the news, her eyes sparkling, her hands cradling her stomach with a gentleness Naruto hadn't seen before. She looked so happy, so hopeful, as if this new life was a fresh beginning for them all. Minato's face lit up, and he wrapped his arms around her, whispering words that Naruto couldn't hear, his smile wide and proud.

But Naruto… Naruto felt his world tilt. A sibling. An innocent, pure soul who would look up to him, admire him, trust him. He should've been happy—ecstatic, even. But all he could think about were those innocent children he had killed in Kiri's hospital. Babies, barely old enough to open their eyes, snatched from life before they had the chance to understand it. He had beheaded them, their tiny bodies limp in his hands. He remembered the screams, the pleading cries of their mothers, the blood pooling around him like a river of despair.

He bolted to the bathroom, his legs barely carrying him, and collapsed against the sink, gripping its edges with white-knuckled hands. His stomach heaved, bile rising in his throat, and he retched, his whole body convulsing as he emptied his insides. The memories crashed over him, relentless, each one sharper than the last, tearing through him like shards of glass.

What if… what if he hurt his little brother or sister? What if the monster inside him lashed out, unable to differentiate between stranger and family? Children could see things, people said—see spirits, angels, monsters. Would his sibling look at him one day, see the darkness lurking within him, and recoil in terror? He couldn't bear the thought.

No. He'd protect the kid. He'd keep them safe from everything, even himself. He would make sure his little brother or sister never saw a kunai, never heard the sickening sound of a blade cutting flesh, never felt the terror of battle or the pain of loss. They'd live a life of peace, a life Naruto had long since lost. Yes, he'd make sure of that, no matter the cost.

The next day, Minato asked the question that caught Naruto off guard, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. They were sitting outside, under a clear blue sky, clouds drifting lazily above. Minato's voice was warm, curious.

"So, Naruto," he said, grinning, "what do you think we should name them? If it's a boy? Or a girl?"

Naruto looked up, eyes unfocused, his mind still wrapped around the storm of his memories. The name slipped from his lips without him even thinking.

"Menma…"

"Menma, huh?" Minato chuckled, as if savoring the sound. "That matches yours! Haha, Naruto's brother Menma! Or sister Menma!"

Kushina joined in, her laughter filling the air, her voice bright. "That actually fits, dattebane!"

Naruto's chest tightened, his heart pounding against his ribs. "Menma, huh?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. The name felt heavy, like a promise, a vow he was making to himself and to the unborn child.

He clenched his fists, his small fingers digging into his palms. 'Menma… I'll protect you. Even if you hate me for eternity.'

Even if his little sibling one day saw him for the monster he was, even if they grew up despising him, Naruto would make sure they were safe. He would carry the darkness alone, shield them from every shadow, bear every burden so they could live a life free from the horrors he knew too well.

But deep down, he knew he was lying to himself.

Ō~Ō

Author Note: Sorry for the late update.

This wasn't an epic length chapter but it is still larger than average with almost 7K words.

I hope you liked it.

This story is quite different from all the other stories I've written. Thus, it requires utmost care.

Drop your thoughts in the review section. Your words motivate me to write better, larger and with more depth.

Till next time!