Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Concessions ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

Concessions

A Naruto Fan fiction

By systaticism

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Chapter Three

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The days passed quickly. It had been more than four months since Minato's explanation about the Kyuubi attack and Uchiha Madara's interference. The man had yet to be seen since. Naruto had grown quickly, and his head was now completely covered by Minato's own untamable, vibrantly blonde hair. The young child had also discovered the joys of baby food, and the perfect way to practice his aim for later shinobi training. When it came to it, food plus Naruto (armed with a spoon) made for a very dirty and very sullen Minato.

 

The Yondaime often found himself running to Sarutobi for guidance whenever Naruto did something unexpected. The old man was astonishingly patient and answered all of his successor's questions. Minato was positive the man was an angel in disguise.

 

The Hokage's office had been transformed into, embarrassingly enough, a child's play room—not that it detracted from business. The ninjas under the Hokage understood that just because he allowed a child free reign of his study didn't mean that the man wasn't to be feared. Special privileges were only extended to the bright, sunshine-haired baby.

 

Jiraiya had taken to buying Naruto a stuffed toy from every city he stopped in—Naruto's room already had a mountain of them—as well as nabbing a diminutive white coat identical to Minato's. And, now that Naruto could sit up unassisted, Minato had taken a leaf out of Jiraiya's book and commissioned a miniature replica of his office chair. The two were regularly found lounging behind Minato's desk.

 

Despite the Kyuubi attack, Konoha was flourishing. It was a testament to the Leaf's Will of Fire that the village was able to rise up so determinedly in the aftermath of such devastation. Jiraiya's program for the Ninja Academy was churning out rapid results, and after Minato offered a stipend to those families that took in young, parentless children, many orphans were given homes.

 

Minato was struggling to acclimatize himself to Kushina's absence. They had been married for nearly a year and the twenty-six-year-old missed her desperately. He didn't believe that he would ever be able find another woman like her, a person that he could love with such a strong passion. The only one who could compare was his son, their son.

 

He was protective, almost possessive, of the boy. As an orphan, he had known nothing of his own ancestry. His name, fabricated by an orphanage in Mist, was a constant reminder that he was found alone, in a leaning, dirt-floored hovel by a deserted seaport during a storm, a reminder that he came from nothing, and, later, built his life from nothing.

 

He had lived at the Mist orphanage until the Miyato family, which consisted of only a husband and a wife, eventually took him in. Their chosen profession as travelling merchants had caused the loss of their son in a rockslide on a lesser-travelled road. The two devastated parents had taken him from that decrepit, flimsy, molding building, from the Bloody Mist, and brought him into Leaf on one of their many expeditions to fill the hole their son left behind. Just two scant miles from the city, the couple was murdered and looted by renegade nin right in front of his eyes. Minato was left with nothing but the clothes on his back and the ripped satchels strapped to the Miyatos' bloodied and beaten bodies. They had contained the couples' severed heads.

 

He had been five years old.

 

It was that experience that cemented Minato's desire to create his own legacy, that of the Namikaze's.

 

Namikaze Naruto would know his family.

 

*

 

Naruto nearly jumped out of his skin when he found malevolent red eyes glaring at him. He had been trying to figure out why he was only able to get vague impressions of the world around him. When he was awake, it had felt as though a veil was enshrouding his mind. Thoughts and actions came slower, and exhaustion was quick to make itself known; and yet, here, in front of the seal, all was normal again.

 

“You're awake,” he stated, unnecessarily. Kyuubi's glare only grew in intensity. Blackened lips pulled back from massive, sharp teeth.

 

“Human,” it growled.

 

Naruto, even after living with the beast for his entire life and conversing with it time and time again, was still scared of the fox. Its threats, however, were easily ignored—he had extensive practice. He nodded at the red-furred behemoth. Time to play nice—he wanted to know why his father was still alive.

 

“Kyuubi,” he greeted.

 

“You want something,” it stated. It was smart for a chakra construct, clever enough to deceive Naruto if he wasn't careful. Naruto wondered what it did to gain that knowledge. Probably stole it from those that it devoured. He wouldn't put it past the demon.

 

“Yes,” Naruto agreed. “I want to know why my father is alive. You did something.”

 

If Kyuubi could raise an eyebrow, Naruto was sure that it would. “So quick to place the blame, aren't you, little fleshling? And here I thought you would be grateful.”

 

Naruto gritted his teeth. He was grateful, he honestly was, but if this scenario, this change, meant that he would be indebted to the demon, he wasn't sure what he would do. Naruto shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “I am,” he said, locking eyes with the beast. “Grateful, I mean. But you're still sealed even though my father is alive. If he had used that jutsu, he would be dead. So I want to know why. In all the time I've known you, there was always a reason behind your actions.”

 

Kyuubi let out a deep, rumbling purr. A laugh, Naruto guessed. “Bold little human,” it sneered. “You may know me, but I do not know you. You had a taint on you—a taint that could only come from prolonged exposure to my presence. You were my vessel. I could tell. But how could have that been if I was to be sealed within you that night?”

 

Naruto looked away, biting his lip apprehensively. This was interesting; scary, but interesting. So much had changed, and he wasn't ready for it. “I'm not from this time,” he ultimately whispered. “I'm from a time where the Yondaime died summoning the God of Death to seal you into me.” Naruto's eyes drifted back to Kyuubi's when he continued, “I'm from a time where I fought for my life against those who wanted to steal your power, to use me to get to you. I've used your power before under my own influence, and I've used it under yours as well.”

 

The Kyuubi reared back, its eyes narrowing. “You speak the truth, human?”

 

Naruto nodded, muscles tensed. Where this could go was anybody's guess.

 

Kyuubi relaxed, surprising Naruto. “Your body,” it said, “was pure at the time of my attack against your puny village. Your chakra, your soul, however, was not. You contained my own power.” The great fox lowered its head closer to Naruto's level. Its breath was hot. Naruto imagined he could smell the stench of its countless massacres, the blood of the innocents it had killed. “Even demons, as you humans call us, are subject to the laws of the universe. I was aware of what your sire's technique would summon. Avoiding it was in my best interest.”

 

Naruto grimaced. Of course. He growled internally; Kyuubi's actions would always be in its best interest. Selfish bastard.

 

Kyuubi grinned at the puny human. “Yes,” it hissed, “I did it simply for my own benefit. I am a self-serving creature, after all.”

 

“You still haven't answered my question,” Naruto pressed.

 

Kyuubi roared at the boy, snapping at bars of his prison. Naruto took a step back in alarm, cringing at the shrieks of teeth against metal. “Do not presume to speak to me with such insolence, human child! I stay in this cage because without the interference of the Death God, I will be free after your death!” He snickered at Naruto's paling face. “I used the seal imprinted on your soul to create this prison—it holds me just as the original did, but it lacks the… necessity of my termination after your natural death.”

 

Natural? Naruto voiced his question.

 

“I am not—this time, according to your previous words—imprisoned under the Equal Exchange of Souls, as your sire still exists in this plane. The duration of a human's life is nothing to me. All I have to do is wait until you grow old. Your life will fade from you, and I will be liberated from this pathetic jail!” Kyuubi snarled at the boy momentarily before calming, taking a sick pleasure in the fear on the child's ugly, hairless face.

 

“If you are to die by another's hand, or even mine,” Kyuubi continued, “the seal will consume me and I will cease to exist. That is a risk I am unwilling to take. Only with your natural death will my spirit be released back into the realm I was formed in; I will be powerless and weak as a newborn kit, but I will have survived.”

 

*

 

Minato's mood had gone from good to bad to worse within three hours. He had woken up to sunshine and Naruto's radiant smile, no baby food on his face, and a new generation of graduating shinobi. He'd impressed upon each new sensei the importance of readying their team for the Chuunin Exams or field promotion; in other words, intense training. He had decided to leave it up to the examiner's own discretion to inform him of which students were ready to become genin. The squads were not yet finalized and teams would be structured based on matching those with complementary skills—­after they had passed inspection, of course.

 

There would be no specialized teams (be they infiltration or combat) this year. Each graduating team would receive intensive training from chuunin instead of individual jounin. Time was of the essence and drilling genin would leech too much of it from the high-ranked would-be jounin-senseis who could better be utilized in the field. Konoha was too desperate for shinobi and overrun with missions to risk anything going wrong so each squadron would just have to be able to take whatever was thrown at it.

 

D-rank missions were being relegated to the Academy—Jiraiya's idea—under the pretense of preparing for future missions. Students would learn to work in teams, write reports, and free up genin and chuunin for higher ranked missions and the pay would, instead, go to Konoha's coffers instead of being divvied up by the team and village.

 

Minato's mood took its first downturn when a messenger from Konoha's Council entered (invaded) his office. The Yondaime had learned, by necessity and through recurrence, to dread speaking to the nosy civilians—and the even nosier former shinobi. At least the civilians didn't have training in psychology and were, for the most part, happy to go along with whatever he decided.

 

However, this was one item of business he was not looking forward to. They wanted to know who the baby was, and they wanted to know now.

 

The blond man had been trying to keep Naruto's status as much of a secret as possible. Rumors were fine, but to confirm the hearsay? It would leak out to his enemies and leave them with no doubt that the Yellow Flash had a son—a very vulnerable son.

 

He didn't have much of a choice, though. Fact or fiction, assassins and kidnappers would target the baby just for its association with their (potential) adversary. If Naruto was known as his son, as a Namikaze, at least his ninja would be inclined to protect the child more fiercely.

 

He sent an affirmative answer to the prying bigots—an invitation to meet with him in the council chambers, where he would answer their questions in two days time. He shuddered in anticipation of how the meeting would go.

 

Minato enjoyed the few blessed minutes of silence that was brought about by the departure of the stuttering courier (whose exit was punctuated by the heavy steel door slamming shut in his wake) before his temper would inevitably be pulled taut once more.

 

There was a swift knock on the door and Minato flared his chakra in response, the flicker as good as any “enter.” His mouth was, for the moment, occupied by a calligraphy brush, the end dripping with ink, and he had no other way to answer the ANBU's request.

 

His eyebrows rose when he set his eyes upon his former pupil, Hatake Kakashi. “Kakashi-kun,” he greeted, spitting out the brush in his mouth and flinging it none-too-gently into the waste basket by his desk. Its bristles were too rigid and broken for any more use anyway.

 

The silver-haired teen bowed respectfully, tactfully ignoring the Kage's rather comical ink-smudged appearance. “Hokage-sama,” he said, “mission completed.”

 

Minato nodded at the mention of Kakashi's assignment to Yami no Kuni, the Land of the Snow. “And the client?” he enquired, accepting the scroll containing Kakashi's report. It was deposited in a basket on his desk containing other identical scrolls.

 

“Safe, sir,” he answered.

 

Minato smiled; he was proud of his former student. “Then I congratulate you on completing your first mission as an elite jounin, Kakashi-kun.” He beckoned Kakashi closer, “Enough formality for now. You've yet to meet my son, Naruto.”

 

It was Kakashi's turn to raise his eyebrows and his expression lost some of its tension in his surprise. “Son?” he asked. “Kushina-nee-san was pregnant?”

 

Minato hummed. He and Kushina had agreed to keep her pregnancy a secret until she started showing. “You were gone for a long time, weren't you?” His eyes suddenly turned sad. “Have you heard of the recent events in your absence?”

 

Kakashi shifted uncomfortably on the chair he had hauled next to Naruto's small cot. He removed his hand from the baby's cheek and gripped his navy pants harshly. “Most of it,” he answered, turning to face his sensei. “Where is Kushina-nee-san?” he asked.

 

Minato looked away, the muscles in his face tightening. It seemed that `Most of it' didn't cover Kushina's death. Speaking about his wife always seemed to reopen the gaping wound in his heart. Whenever she was mentioned, Minato wanted to hole himself up in his house and hold Naruto until the pain went away, until he forgot about her presence and her smile and the look in her eyes when she fought for her country. He couldn't, however, leave Kakashi in the dark about her death. The teen looked to her as an older sister. He had no doubt that the masked boy would be devastated.

 

“She died.” He forced the words from his throat. Nothing Jiraiya said about continuing the grieving process would help him in this situation. He'd either get over her or he wouldn't.

 

He didn't think he would.

 

He glanced over at his student at the sound of wood breaking. Kakashi had cracked the hand-rests of the seat he was perched on. His face was pale. “What?” he asked, his voice hoarse with denial.

 

Minato stood, abandoning his post at his desk, and knelt before Kakashi, wrapping secure arms around the boy. He sat on the floor, pulling the teen into his lap, and rocked him. “I'm sorry,” he choked out, needing this comfort as much as Kakashi did. “I'm sorry.”

 

The jounin clung to him ferociously, shaking with silent sobs. Minato couldn't bring himself to shed anymore tears for Kushina; all his tears were already spent after nights of weeping bitterly into his pillow, heart aching with the loss of her warm presence. He wouldn't deny his student the same luxury. Kakashi was, after all, still a child.

 

It was nearly half an hour before they were both composed enough to continue speaking. Kakashi hadn't met Minato's eyes since he had received the news. After the teen pulled away, Minato's frown deepened. There was something wrong; something was about happen and he got the feeling that he wouldn't like it.

 

His fears were confirmed when Kakashi withdrew a single scroll from his pouch and set it on the Yondaime's desk. The blood-red cover mocked Minato, who felt his heart stop at the sight of it. His face blanked of all emotion as he met Kakashi's eyes. “No,” he said.

 

Kakashi's eyes widened. “What?” he asked incredulously. “Why not?!”

 

“No!” the blond snarled, losing any shreds calm he had gathered. His eyes narrowed and became dangerous. He grabbed the scroll and snapped it in two in his anger, throwing the broken halves across the room. “I refuse to let any child throw their life away!”

 

“But I'm already an elite jounin,” Kakashi hissed through his teeth.

 

“You're still a child, Kakashi! Only fourteen years old!” Minato gripped his desk, ignoring the protesting wood underneath his white-knuckled hands. He clenched his eyes shut. “You lost both Rin and Obito less than a year ago, Kakashi, and now Kushina is dead too. You'll be losing yourself this time. I won't let you do this.”

 

Kakashi looked away, a single hand tracing over the band of metal that covered Obito's eye. “I don't understand, sensei,” he whispered. “I don't understand what the problem is. I want to do this.”

 

Minato shook his head and stared at Kakashi's face, eyes burning into the teen like hot coals. They were haunted, afraid. “ANBU is death, Kakashi. It's pain and it's blood. It's darkness. It's lies and deceit, nightmares of murder after murder, mission after mission, day after day of killing your heart and your emotions… Konoha may be the greatest of the five powers, it may be lax concerning its shinobi's mentalities towards such lifestyles, but our ANBU squads are no different from those of any other village.

 

“You're not strong enough for it, Kakashi. It will break you. It will swallow you whole and spit you out in pieces. Rank is nothing in ANBU. All it is, is survival. If you get in too deep, the only thing that you'll end up living for is your own death.”

 

Minato could not, would not, let that happen. No child would go into ANBU while he was Hokage. Not one.

 

*

 

Notes:

1. Miyato (Mi•ya-to; 宮戸) means “Palace Gate.”

 

2. Kyuubi's still a jerk. Still selfish. Still devious. He's just looking out for his own backside. For those that expected Kyuubi and Naruto frolicing in a field of daisies and butterflies... I'm sorry, but I'm laughing hysterically at you.

 

3. I'm not sure if I'm exactly right, but in the Rock-Leaf (Iwa-Ha) War ended about a year before the Kyuubi attack. A little before the war's end, Kakashi lost Obito and gained the Sharingan. Rin's death and its circumstances come later--but not much later--on. Kakashi was absent during the Kyuubi attack on a mission to the Land of the Snow (Yuki no Kuni) (those that have seen the 2nd Naruto movie might know a bit of what I'm talking about), which kept him away for around nine to ten months. If I get people wanting to know about the mission, I'll be happy to write it in somewhere, though it's not planned as part of the story at the moment.

 

4. Catch the hint about a changing plot line? If you didn't, go to the end--the very end--of the last scene. You'll see it.

 

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Reviews are very appreciated.

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Major brownie points to skepsis66 for all of her wonderful hard work on this chapter.

This story is also at FFN