Chapter Text
Konoha was not the same.
They returned waving war banners, marching a rhythmic beat that made peasants and farmers wilt in dread and fear. Jiraiya returned to Konoha quietly, slipping in before the lanterns were lit to visit the Hokage and greet Itachi with one hand ruffling his hair. Jiraiya had taken to Itachi fondly, growing warmer and distant since the invasion of Konoha. Tsunade said little, but halfhearted observation and Sasuke’s phantom memory prompted the sage to explain in broken words his buried grief. He spoke no names, but the pain of death and what could have been was a solemn agony some preferred to carry alone. Naruto didn’t know who died- nobody he knew.
‘I know,’ Jiraiya said to him with a horrible smile, a small timid thing that came with memories best left forgotten, ‘and there is little reason to bother yourself for my sake.’
Naruto awkwardly asked if Jiraiya wanted to talk about it. Naruto heard that sometimes speaking aloud your pains or telling others helped lessen the burden.
‘That story has already been written,’ Jiraiya said quietly, ‘and this time, it’s best it stays unfinished.’
When Jiraiya began to pack his things, somberly moving with a stilted limp of only half awareness, it was then Naruto knew something was truly wrong. Sasuke did not speak when Naruto asked him what he had said, and he stayed silent when Naruto shouted in anger. Sasuke’s face, normally so devoid of emotion, wore something foul. Disgusting, irritating, Naruto recognized the expression as pity.
‘I would have known them!’ Naruto accused Jiraiya of an idiotic attempt at something. ‘That’s why Sasuke won’t tell me anything! I would have known what you’re upset about and you aren’t even gonna tell me! That’s not fair!’
‘Life’s not fair sometimes, Naruto!’ Jiraiya shouted. Overwhelmed, a wild force of unquenchable grief and loathing. The Sannin did not cry but his heart did, his actions to always walk lest his troubles finally catch him. ‘You’re right, you don’t know him, and now you never will.’
The man aged years in a single moment. He spoke softly to Tsunade. Words were exchanged, Shisui Uchiha visited the Hokage Tower and then the lower security cells. When Jiraiya left one morning with a fond farewell and well wishes to both Naruto and Yugito, he walked as a guard for a quiet woman wrapped in seals.
To nobody’s surprise, Sasuke vanished once securing something of significance that both Sakura and Naruto thought was stupid. They travelled East towards the old shrines from Whirlpool country, stopping periodically to clean shattered pottery or righten destroyed monuments. Naruto’s clones took to restoration like they were genin, patching windows with thick branches and repairing old shrines to people long forgotten. It was his heritage, although the wall of dramatic masks felt a little too similar to his pre-academy.
Sasuke selected a single mask from the dozens mounted to the wall. Sharingan eyes discerned traps and tripwires, each unique and lethal. Naruto and Sakura crowded the doorway as Sasuke held the carving daintily in his hands, staring at its wooden eyes with reverence. When the Uchiha rightened and turned to them, he froze the smallest of seconds with a flicker of surprise and disappointment.
(“I know I shouldn’t say it…” Sakura said when detouring through the redwood trees, “...but did Sasuke seem disappointed to you too?”)
When they made camp, Sasuke kept the mask hidden on his body. When he began to prepare the rations packed in their bags, the Uchiha stumbled over the number of portions. When he placed his bedroll among the pine needles, he did so to accommodate a missing third to their group.
("I know what you mean..." Naruto agreed quietly, hurt despite his attempts to hide it. "...I think he was expecting someone else.")
When they started the return trek to Konoha, Sasuke vanished between the trees with no indication of why. Sakura sighed heavily but not without some sadness. Naruto felt his heart weigh heavy as his expectation came true. Both shinobi recognized that Sasuke hadn't...really been himself since he came back. Technically, he still wasn't himself, but an alternate copy that he insisted- was still him.
Naruto thought of it a bit like shadow clones. When one shadow clone vanished, he had the memories of their actions and events he personally never experienced. He wasn't different, just...he knew things he shouldn't. Once, on a particularly bad night, he wondered how many times he'd have to split himself until he would forget who had been the original. Once, he wondered if he actually was still the same.
He didn't like to express these thoughts, especially not when Sasuke was a heavy concern on his mind. One he frequently talked about at any given opportunity.
“I’m not even surprised anymore,” Naruto complained, sprawled on the rebuilt steps to the Hokage tower, “but I wish he’d just let me know in advance, ya know?”
“It must be a pain, having someone you care about run off and get themselves into trouble,” Iruka teased gently.
Naruto huffed, rolling his eyes. He said, “this is serious! What if he needs me? He can’t keep running off…”
“Is this really about Sasuke?” Iruka asked him knowingly, “or the fact both Jiraiya-Sama and Sasuke-kun left without telling you why?”
Naruto turned his eyes downwards. Iruka sighed softly, looking to the sky.
“You shouldn’t worry about them,” Iruka suggested, “they’re both capable of taking care of themselves. Some people process better on their own, all you can do is be here for them when they come back.”
“I just want to help now,” Naruto whined, stretching his neck to crack it audibly, “like- like what if I got them some Ramen?”
“Because ramen cures everything, eh?”
Naruto rolled his eyes but felt his bad mood deteriorate nonetheless. The younger nin stretched out leisurely, yawning dramatically before he slumped obnoxiously against the man’s side. Iruka teasingly pushed back, initiating a war between sides and bony elbows.
“It’s such a nice day,” Naruto mused, staring upwards at the sky longingly, “ya know, when Pervy Sage and I were on the road, when there were days like this, we’d find a nice place to lay out under the sun!”
“It is a nice day,” Iruka agreed fondly, “we won’t have too many of those soon.”
“Yeah…” Naruto sighed, slumping back against the steps. “‘Cause the war... did the big public announcement come out yet?”
“Which one?” Iruka asked rhetorically, “the one about a councilman being a traitor, or the first global peace established because of war?”
Naruto gurgled tiredly, smacking one hand against Iruka’s knee. The older man smiled wistfully before he too sighed in exhaustion. Iruka said; “but, yes. Some generals have been established so far for the shinobi forces, different units being divided in combination with our new allies, mostly to keep the peace.”
“That sounds like so much work,” Naruto complained quietly, fiddling with his hands, “I’ve been working with Yugito-Nii, she and Matatabi are really nice, and the big lousy furball likes them too!”
Iruka ruffled his hair fondly, chuckling quietly, “look at you. Having a whole family now, even managed to drag Hatake into it.”
Naruto blushed a bit and bumped his shoulder into Iruka again, “wattya talkin’ about? You’re my family too!”
Iruka stuttered, blushing a little as Naruto flopped over him dramatically, nearly kicking Iruka in the face. Naruto cackled as Iruka stood suddenly, depositing Naruto shoulders first on the stone steps.
“Don’t worry about me, Naruto,” Iruka said fondly, “I spoke with the Lady Hokage, I’ll be assisting the younger students, cycling through supply runs.”
Naruto nodded, curling in on himself pessimistically. The boy sighed, slumping smaller. He grumbled, “I wanna help, but granny says I should stay away...she already spoke to Yugito-Nii since they’re gonna come after us…”
“It won’t be that bad,” Iruka comforted him, “isn’t Tenzo going with you?”
“Yeah but…” Naruto struggled to convey his struggles, “Kakashi-Sensei is gonna be out leading people, and Sakura-chan has a whole unit! And Shikamaru is a field tactician and I don’t even know what Sasuke’s doing!”
Naruto stilled for a small moment, his burning enthusiasm rolled around him and turned deeper and more forlorn. The boy gazed off into the distance with an old aching sort of sadness, intertwined with frustration and the unsettled twist of old feelings. Naruto said, quietly and lingering with barely understood emotion: “... Sasuke…”
‘And I thought he was bad as a genin,’
“You’re helping us by staying safe,” Iruka promised him, “you’re helping all of us. You and Kurama.”
Naruto gazed at Iruka in wonder, and very quietly admitted, “nobody ever calls him by name, ya know?”
“Well, any friend of Naruto’s is a friend of mine,” Iruka said with a smile, “just do your best.”
Itachi was reintroduced to Konohagakure as a forgotten hero, a victim under Danzo’s cruel machinations and unfair treatment. The name Uchiha was synonymous with that oppression. Overnight, the famous Sharingan became a story of vengeance. A clan of martyrs burned and blessed in a cremation fire.
Itachi was not a tall man, nor was he particularly intimidating. He was shorter than most Uchiha (due to a mixture of chronic childhood stress and presumably medical complications he did not mention) and inherited a dainty skeletal structure that remarkably had not been tarnished by a broken nose. His hair had always been long, then it grew longer as both an arrogant statement to enemies and also a disguise to garner more eyes over his petite form. There was no doubt that if not for how absurdly terrifying Itachi Uchiha was, many would be flanking him for the shy opportunity of introducing themselves. He held himself to high standards on his return to Konoha, wearing mundane shinobi armour under that of a nondescript cloak with one arm out of sleeve to hang relaxed near his front. Impractical and eye-catching disregarding the subtle hue of blue to his nails from oxygen deficiency.
Many were not happy with Itachi Uchiha, namely those who had faced him in open combat and lost violently. Jiraiya, absent from the progressions on an undisclosed mission of his choosing, left them woefully exposed and one chair empty.
A former Akatsuki member filling the space of both a spymaster and tactician was not a political move many took happily. The Hyuuga, in particular, stewed openly, glaring with cloudy eyes at every opportunity.
“I refuse for my clan to follow formations established by a traitor,” the Hyuuga Head said icily, gazing at the Hokage with formal decorum, “we value the lives and blood of our kin.”
Unlike some, went unspoken. Itachi Uchiha sat unflinchingly, his eyes dark and thoughts obscure like smoke.
The Inuzuka Clan head huffed gruffly, adjusting in her seat. The Akimichi Clan head glanced to the side, subtly catching the Yamanaka Clan head with a shared look of yikes.
“Need I remind you, that we all value the lives and efforts of our people?” Tsunade said cooly, looking both annoyed and disappointed. Hiashi Hyuuga scowled deeply, gesturing one hand towards Itachi openly.
“Hokage-Sama,” he said aggressively, “I beg of you, I will not send my clan to war under the guidance of that kin-slayer!”
“Itachi Uchiha was cleared of all allegations,” Asuma Sarutobi said cautiously from his seat, “we aren’t here to start any.”
“I’m merely stating information, Sarutobi,” Hiashi said frostily. Asuma’s eyebrows lifted at the bluntness of the statement.
“If we’re stating facts, Hyuuga,” Tsume Inuzuka drawled sharply, lips curled just enough to display protruding incisors, “then you better keep that trap shut. ”
Clan head Aburame said in a monotone, “the Lord Hyuuga has a point. How are we to trust the advice given freely from a former threat to Konohagakure?”
The two elders, representing the civilian population nodded and spoke in a high croak, “this council of elders support the statement given by the Lord Aburame!”
Tsunade clutched the table so tightly it began to crack. She said between gritted teeth, “this is not up for discussion. We are at war.”
“This council of elders call for deliberation!” the one cried despite Tsunade’s mounting frustration. “We suggest a discussion on the truth of the boy’s claims!”
Softly, Itachi Uchiha asked, “Is that necessary?”
The younger turned his head, focusing his eyes with the keen unblinking sight of a bird. Thin wafts of loose hair caressed his delicate cheekbones as his eyes unveiled with butterfly scales. Inoichi Yamanaka knew the rumours that likened the Uchiha to the Karasu-tengu, a demonic monster with crow wings and an aura of death. Children who suffered trauma became the shinobi who bore the worst titles; the notorious few with the gruesome ability and moral compass in which to execute tasks and others.
Itachi Uchiha may be called a yokai by civilians, but with his hellish eyes and clan-pale skin, he seemed truly ethereal-touched.
Itachi Uchiha said softly; “honourable elders, you’ll find I have an excellent memory.”
The elders paused, frozen by their mistake in the presence of the Sharingan. Tsunade sighed in disbelief as Tsume Inuzuka threw back her head and howled with laughter.
Hiashi scowled and said standoffishly, “I will not allow my people to be led by words alone!”
“Any words?” Tsume Inuzuka baited with a wide grin, “or just his words?”
Eyes shifted to Itachi, who once more had his gaze affixed somewhere else. Shikaku sighed quietly, expecting something to occur. Inoichi offered him a sympathetic tap under the table with one foot.
“I do not find his actions worthy, or honourable,” the Hyuuga phrased unbendingly.
Itachi blinked very slowly and did not react further.
“I think he did an honourable thing,” Asuma said a tad awkwardly, “he returned to Konoha. Corrected an information leak that had been occurring for decades apparently.”
“Takes some guts to do that,” Tsume agreed eagerly. She leaned closer to Itachi, her nostrils flaring widely as she sniffed him keenly.
“This is absurd,” Lord Hyuuga said, “I refuse. Lady Hokage, regretfully I must deny the Clan Hyuuga’s aid in this war.”
Tsunade closed her eyes and mumbled something very close to “Are you shitting me?”
Itachi turned his eyes to the head of Clan Hyuuga and said, “we respect your honourable decision.”
“We what?” Tsume balked, jaw-dropping comedically, “we’re doing what?”
Shikaku leant towards Inoichi and whispered, “can they do that?”
Inoichi shrugged but felt very similar.
If the furrow on the Hyuuga’s brow were any indication, the man hadn’t expected such admittance so easily. He looked absolutely floored. He said slowly and cautiously, “I am intrigued to know why you feel such, Uchiha.”
Itachi blinked slowly and said with a level of calm indifference, “I am honourless, as you so stated Clan Head Hyuuga. I am a traitor to my kin, perhaps If I had sought your knowledge earlier, privileged Lord Hyuuga, I could have violently mutilated my clan instead of honoured death. I do not dare presume to understand your wisdom, as forced slavery must be kinder than the freedom of the pyre.”
“Itachi Uchiha!” Lady Tsunade roared, slamming both hands down flat on the table with a resounding bang! She declared, “this is not the time for backhand insults!”
Itachi responded instantaneously; “then candidly, Hyuuga, I find your methods abhorrent. Crassly, I dislike you.”
Lady Tsunade shouted, “ Uchiha! Enough!”
Hiashi bolted upright as his face turned dark red. Furious, the man struggled to make any cohesive words before he spun on his heels and stormed directly out of the room. The ANBU on guard politely held the door open for him and prevented him from slamming it behind.
“Well,” Shikaku said after a noticeable pause, “that was...interesting.”
“Sweet Kami,” Tsume whispered in open admiration, “you just did that.”
The Akimichi clan head uncomfortably shifted directly away from Itachi, obviously too alarmed to think of words.
Asuma tilted his head and pondered a little too smugly, “think we can get Hatake in here too? Would really drive that mean bastard out of here.”
Tsume said, “please.”
“Can we all focus for once!” Tsunade demanded loudly, “we have a war on our doorsteps! We have to figure out the domestic difficulties now before we can begin organizing and mobilizing ranks!”
Leaning back in his chair, Shikaku Nara smiled as the main clans of Konoha finally united.
Hatake Kakashi woke to a horrible pain behind his left eye and a sense that nothing was going to go well for him.
The day was without misery, but dread saturated his every movement. Paranoia stirred and impulse drove his coordination. He flinched in the shower, nearly smashing the mirror with a chakra-fuelled fist at the sight of a single red eye.
‘I’m losing it,’ he thought to himself, distractedly piercing the skin of his thighs with nails sharper than the normal nin. He hadn’t a day like this in months, he hadn’t a week like this in years.
He hadn’t been on any difficult or distressing missions recently, beyond the disaster that was whatever spiritual epiphany Itachi Uchiha had at the Hokage summit. He didn’t feel different, there was no haze to his thoughts or intrusive thinking. His hands trembled slightly as he washed them, but no bloodied hue painted his skin. He heard no screams or crying when his hearing focused on every nearby sound, he only heard his pack sleeping softly one room over.
There was no fight here, and no fight had occurred. His body ached with phantom memories of when he always felt sore and overworked. His chakra levels were untouched, but his skull pulsed raw like each dredge was an effort.
He walked like his limbs did not belong to him. He dressed through distant negotiations instead of active control. The pain is an ache, piercing occasionally as if some lazy torturer stood beside him, applying pressure only to be an annoyance. It sat there, stabbing and arcing with electrical currents as both eyes refused to cooperate; diplopia split his field of view until the sink in his kitchen multiplied and two couches faced the window instead of one.
“Why today?” Kakashi hissed, pressing one palm to the concave hollow of his eye socket. His forehead protector did not allow the heavy pressure that sometimes helped, only steady darkness that obscured the red.
It was an old instinct that drove him with feral movements when his door opened and Gai walked inside. His friend did not shout or move quickly, he did not give any indication that prompted such a cruel reaction. Gai entered with three boxes stacked in his arms and a half greeting verbalized, then, Kakashi had him slammed against the floor with one knee slammed into his lower torso and a hand wrapped around his throat.
Gai choked in surprise, rice scattering over the floor and baked fish smacking quietly against the ground. Gai’s eyes widened in alarm as Kakashi vibrated with adrenaline energy, every muscle liquid and coiled to snap.
“Easy there,” Gai murmured quietly, making no movements with his free hands. The vibrations tickled against the hypersensitive skin of Kakashi’s palm, pulled free from his aching eye. Gai’s understanding expression warped gruesomely red as Kakashi’s focal point distorted to memorize every pore, every needle-fine scar across Gai’s nose.
The man’s pulse thrummed quickly, but not quicker than a dog. In the other room, Bull snored loudly and wheezed a little on the exhale. The fish on the floor smelled of butter, not the oil it normally cooked in that turned Kakashi’s stomach.
“There you are,” Gai murmured quietly, the noise a soothing balm that lowered Kakashi’s metaphorical hackles and hid his literal fangs. Gai smiled as Kakashi tore his hand away violently, near flinging himself across the room. Gai said knowingly, “you’ve been stressed recently.”
“Sorry,” Kakashi said, curling in slightly as he rammed his hand back against his aching eye, “I don’t know why…”
“It’s one of those days,” Gai dismissed, inspecting the breakfast half spilled on the floor, “it looks like your pack will have quite a treat this morning!”
“Sorry,” Kakashi repeated lamely, still on edge. “I didn’t mean...sorry.”
“It is no bother,” Gai said with a cheery smile, “would you like me to run your dogs this morning?”
Relief crushed what little doubts had been stirring in Kakashi’s head. Nervous energy and undirected anxiety burned him. He said, “I don’t want you to...”
“It is no bother,” Gai repeated sternly, pointing one hand towards the nearest window, “go! Or I will pick you up and carry you with only my feet as I walk on my hands around-.”
Kakashi choked on a quiet laugh, shaking his head again as his head throbbed. Gai tried not to smile at the distinctly canine action, failing only when Kakashi lifted one hand to mindlessly rub at his ear with a wrist instead of his fingers.
“Go on,” Gai said sternly, “you need to run! Or chase a squirrel!”
“I don’t chase squirrels,” Kakashi complained lamely, already twitching for the window. Normally he ran until his legs gave out, or Gai found him. Sometimes he practiced jutsu until he passed out somewhere from too much too soon, Gai normally found him then as well. Kakashi-search-missions were normally arranged with good intentions and ended in Genma’s house with everyone drunk on sake.
There was no reason for Kakashi’s indescribable anxiety. Once, Kurenai suggested it could be a predictor of lightning storms. That theory held true for some time, but as time went on it became more often the results of poor sleep and horrid dreams.
The training grounds were filled with more people than Kakashi would like. Chunin and Genin were sorted out for field evaluation or specialized training for the upcoming war. Cries of young Genin grated on Kakashi’s ears, the smell of body odour made his stomach curl further.
‘Outside the walls,’ Kakashi thought, redirecting his leaps towards the Western Gate. Nervous energy pushed him further until his heart rate increased and blood washed out the sounds of people.
The Jounin at the gate took one glance towards Kakashi and flared their chakra. Kakashi didn’t immediately recognize them, but they clearly knew him. He flared his in return, distinct and jarringly sharp. The one Jounin staggered backwards in alarm as his companion laughed. Kakashi’s keen ears caught the tail end of a joking, “-chakra a damn lightning storm.”
The forests stretched ahead of him, parting for the western river and body of water forming as the distant border between Fire and Grass. Kakashi ran, mindful of his surroundings until the bustle of civilization dwindled and open nature and curious animals scampered around. One rabbit scurried away, nearly colliding with a small tree in its haste.
Kakashi hadn’t the chance to run so freely forever, not since before he had Genin assigned to him. Earlier than that when ANBU weighed on him, there would always be either ANBU or ROOT shadowing his steps, waiting to leash him or muzzle him if necessary.
He could run until his legs burned and his breath came heavily through his open jaw. He hadn’t left Konoha to run like this in decades. Not since the spring rains rolled over the Western mountains bordering on the land of Earth and static turned his nerves bright. He had been restrained and stiff as a child, vicious against clan nature. Minato-Sensei had been unsure and nervous to train Kakashi and Kakashi had been too arrogant to accept guidance.
The skies roared then with darkening clouds, sunlight paling until grey wash glaze. Kakashi remembered Minato-Sensei toying with his sealed kunai, playfully winking as he baited ‘Sakumo said I should try storm chasing. Don’t tell Kushina I let you do this! But ah- I guess it could be fun to chase lightning, eh Kakashi?’
There were no storm clouds now, but Kakashi was older and could form lightning without the rain.
Chakra crackled brightly, adrenaline shifting as each step left charred grass and ozone. He ran until he could no longer think.
His eye hurt, it hazed and warped and every stab in his head made him hiss between grit teeth and kick harder off the ground. It pulsed horrible, ramming sharply until a point where he dug in his heels and pierced one arm into the ground as an anchor to stop his acceleration abruptly. He jolted as gravity and momentum tore his body in one direction. If not for the chakra and adrenaline, his shoulder would have torn free with a horrid noise but for now, it held.
Heaving for breath, Kakashi felt a distinct awareness of something being utterly wrong. His neck prickled, fingers curling within the dirt as the wind shifted and an apparition stood on trampled wildflowers.
Kakashi felt unhinged, intangible as the wind drifted beyond his touch. The smell of pollen and broken bark did not reach his nose. He could not taste the sweet smell of grass on his tongue and open mouth. He existed neither here nor there, every bit a shade from Itachi Uchiha’s feverish abilities.
A dead man stood across from him with a hole through his cloak. Kakashi spied the red clouds, now dirtied and frayed from fighting and signs of electricity burns. The orange mask stared at him eerily, diseased white skin gleamed a beacon from a fist-sized puncture.
Kakashi remembered the feel of puncturing through and the accuracy of his aim. He remembered the feel of blood and the haltering rhythm of a heart struggling its last beat. He knew he had murdered this man, Tobi as Itachi called him, and here he stood.
Although, the world smelled of nothing and sunlight had no warmth. They stood in limbo, impossibly still.
Kakashi said as static prickled in the air, “I killed you.”
The man, a liar and an imposter Itachi had said, cocked their head. Their appearance was wrong, the false bravado had been shed and now both men stood each other as equals. Kakashi knew that if it came to blows, the man would not be untouchable.
Tobi asked, “why did you aim for my heart?”
Why had he? It was a logical thought, driven by rational awareness of how to eliminate a threat. Yet, given the position and placement during the fight, piercing the torso through ribs from behind was a challenge in itself. Kakashi considered lying but could not force himself to say the words.
He spoke honestly, “my teammate said you had a seal on your heart.”
“And you decided to break that,” the liar of Madara Uchiha said, “why?”
Bound by moonlight, where they spoke only truths outside the realm where lies and illusions existed so freely. Compelled by a nameless source Kakashi couldn’t know, he said, “because it was the right thing to do.”
Tobi stared at him through the single eyehole in his mask. He watched Kakashi like one would view a painting, struggling to interpret its hidden meaning but comprehending the objective details.
Tobi said in confession, “I felt no pain until it was released.”
“Coercion?” Kakashi guessed unnecessarily. “You recruited Itachi to the Akatsuki- you were one of the founding members. How could you have been controlled?”
Tobi said nothing. Kakashi realized that perhaps he had been asking the wrong questions. He had presumed this enemy nin had acted on their own volition, not under the control or orders of some uncaring monster. Compelled like Itachi had been to kill those he loved. Coerced, without recognizing their loss of will.
Kakashi spoke with a significantly gentler voice, “who are you?”
Tobi, or perhaps that was a name assigned to him and no more the truth than a mask was, said damningly, “I don’t know.”
They were a pair of spectres, intermittently phasing between sunshine and the veil of where there were somewhere else. On occasion, Kakashi’s eye shifted and staggered in geometric disorientation, predicting a world of serrated lines and endless basalt pillars where violets and cornflowers grew from cracked soil.
Tobi walked in stride with taciturn steps to a similar metronome of paralleled disorientation. Glimmers of light, where there was no man and suddenly an Orange mask stood in an endless abyss of darkness in no place known to this world. Sometimes, Kakashi swore his ears heard a filtered noise, choking and whining high in quiet agony although Tobi never said a word.
Itachi had done something and its touch still lingered. Kakashi felt whispers and knowledge seep through each crease of his skin in the half-steps of where sunlight couldn’t touch. He knew the truths and could not speak lies, and then found himself wondering what sort of misery this existence was instead.
“What lie did they tell you?” Kakashi asked, unwilling to come closer but feeling a touch of empathy for the bewildered suffering man with no face. Maybe Naruto was finally rubbing off on him.
Tobi said nothing, and Kakashi pressed softly, “what lie did you believe?”
Tobi shuddered and vanished between the glimmers of purgatory. He returned discerningly still and said, “there is no such thing as hope.”
Kakashi stilled, horror and disgust lumped thickly in his throat. He asked hoarsely, “do you think that?”
Tobi shuddered and curled slightly, pressing both arms against his chest where the sickly skin blinked white and ghastly. In the sunlight, it glowed ivory in all the likeness of a silver eye.
Kakashi pressed further and said, “there is always hope, although it may come in a strange place.”
Like a certain orange-wearing shinobi who screamed from the top of mountains. This would have gone much better if Naruto was here, Kakashi wasn’t used to trying to comfort people he had tried to kill before.
The world distorted once more and lingered in its limbo state. Kakashi stumbled, taken aback by the broad distance and relentless geometry of the new plane. His breath came cold, each step soft on ancient basalt as no sun or moon glowed in the inky sky.
“Kamui,” Tobi explained with practiced steps, striding across pillars of grey with practiced familiarity.
It struck Kakashi then how Tobi had avoided all touch in prior conflicts. The man was not a phantom, but manipulating his body between the layers of a place they could not go. Itachi had done something then, perceiving the illusion that was light and thrust Kakashi to walk in stride. Still in step, alternating limbo under mechanizations of Itachi’s keen eyes. The man had been freed from a cruel vice shaping him with ethics and ideals not his own, and now they wandered aimlessly through stone and cold.
“You spoke of Tsukuyomi,” Tobi spoke in a low rumble between strides, “of the goddess, not the Eternal Tsukuyomi.”
“An Uchiha deity,” Kakashi confirmed slowly, paranoid the conversation could turn to violence in the name of Itachi Uchiha, “the moon spirit.”
“Such a thing does not exist,” Tobi said distantly, “or so I was forcibly convinced. Why?”
Why would a nameless source place a compulsion to deny the existence of Tsukuyomi? For those that did not believe in her, the forced thoughts were an indicator of something opposite.
Kakashi shrugged one shoulder and said slowly, “I have seen things that make me support her existence.”
Like a bat of all things flying directly into Danzo’s face in the middle of combat. Like milky-eyed cats staring at him in the moonlight.
“The patron of Genjutsu,” Tobi said.
“More than that,” Kakashi corrected instantly. He remembered learning years ago from Sasuke at the shrines, some irreparable in their current state. Sasuke had cleaned them the best he could with a small brush and lit the candles on each stone platform.
Kakashi repeated what his student once told him; “sleight of eye. The goddess of illusion and vision, everything you see and lies you’re told.”
“The Eternal Tsukuyomi, warping the goddess of seeing truth,” Tobi murmured quietly, “how cruel.”
Tobi came to stand on the precipice of the stone ledge, gazing off into the distance. Kakashi stood nearby, breath fogging into gentle puffs. Tobi said quietly, “death is an illusion.”
Kakashi had never completely understood that statement although he had heard it multiple times from Sasuke, Itachi, and Shisui. Death had been a taboo thing for Kakashi, one he tried to ignore lest he be pulled into a dark place once more.
Bracing himself, Kakashi extended his olive branch and cautiously asked, “how so?”
Tobi did not speak for so long, Kakashi believed the man had ignored him. When he spoke, his voice rasped lowly with the constricting sound of sorrow. “They return to that which they one came from. They provide the living with gifts and memories.”
Kakashi said unbidden and without thought, “something of equal value.”
Tobi turned his head slowly, peering at him from the black darkness of the hollow eye. The black hair surrounding the orange mask tufted upwards in ratty strands, signs of frantic grasping and stress wore heavily on the man.
Kakashi felt a chill trail down his spine, unrelated to the cold of the forgotten realm. The silver-haired shinobi swallowed dryly and below his mask, his nostrils flared. The smells of old sweat and metallic minerals wafted through the veil of fabric. Kakashi’s hair stood on end with a static charge, a thrumming instinct-driven deep in his bones, something is wrong.
Tobi stared at him, and defensively Kakashi explained further, “one of my students is...he taught me. Something of equal value is gifted to those you cherish close, not anything of financial value but instead things of sentiment.”
Kakashi shifted his weight, tension bubbling with his every breath. “Death is an illusion, and following those principles, I guess you can say they give themselves to us and we give them our memorial.”
Tobi shook his head ever so slowly, still peering from below that horrible mask. When he spoke, it was a low baritone rumbling threateningly like a feral creature. “The dead are dead.”
“Maybe so,” Kakashi agreed lightly, “but we carry them with us.”
Kakashi felt his head throb, his Sharingan warp and pulse furiously in agreement or anger. Kakashi wondered what Obito would have said to him, now after all these years, Kakashi finally understood all those small quirks he used to dismiss as meaningless. All the excuses were not only that- aiding a woman across the street, helping a cat from a tree, carrying groceries for someone in need, they were the values of the Uchiha personified. Kakashi hadn’t realized it and had been so cruel as a child. Something is given, and gifted something of equal value.
Obito had truly been a selfish kind person, who viewed acts of gentle sincerity worth equal to gratitude. Kakashi had always felt dread and guilt weigh heavily on him, festering that hole deep in his heart with chronic gangrene he clawed at poorly.
Perhaps now, Obito would smile at him and say ‘See? Now you’re getting it, Bakashi!’
Kakashi steeled himself, breathing shakily as he offered one hand outstretched slowly. Tobi stilled further, becoming as sedentary as the basalt pillars in this aimless place.
“Come with me,” Kakashi said in a fit of insanity he attributed to Naruto, “you weren’t a willing accomplice.”
Tobi slowly cocked their head, saying with a deadened voice more haunting than a funeral epithet, “I am no one. I don’t want to be anyone. All I care about is completing the moon’s eye plan. This world is completely worthless. There is nothing left in it but misery.”
Kakashi said, “liar.”
Tobi agreed, “it was all a lie.”
Kakashi had experienced multiple existential crises in his life. Quite a few of them from an early age, and potentially a midlife crisis considering the shinobi life expectancy. He knew the feeling well and hated it as much as a normal person.
Kakashi left his arm outstretched and urged the man, “come with me. You weren’t willing. The Leaf can help you.”
Tobi stared silently, he asked very quietly with a tone Kakashi couldn’t understand: “Kakashi Hatake. What do you know of salvation?”
‘Oh boy,’ Kakashi thought tiredly, ‘time to channel Naruto.’
Kakashi looked at his hand silently. Outstretched, open in welcome instead of a fist screeching with the cry of lightning. He said tentatively but firmly; “I...know what it is like to feel the way you are. That hole in your heart…” Kushina, Sensei, Obito, Rin… “...it will be filled by those around you. But friends won't come to those who abandon the memories of others. That hole won’t heal for people who give up on the world because the world doesn’t go the way you want!”
Kakashi hadn’t intended to become so heated. Tobi looked at him, quiet and listening with the finest tremor highlighted by the Sharingan’s acuity. Kakashi said just shy of a growl, “people won’t help you if you constantly run and do nothing. As long as you don’t give up, there will always be salvation.”
Tobi asked him, “and you’d be so willing to bring a threat to those you supposedly care for?”
Kakashi growled audibly. The noise rose in synchrony to the hair on the nape of his neck, coarser and thicker with old forgotten hackles. Tobi stepped backwards, the soft rustle of fabric brushing against basalt with a whisper of a warning. Pale flesh winked its eye between the layers of silk and protective woven cloth.
Kakashi snarled, “In the shinobi world, those that break the written and unwritten rules are deemed trash, but those that would disregard their comrades so easily are worse than trash.”
Kakashi stepped forward and hunkered as unseen fangs bared violently. Kakashi growled, “and those who don’t have the decency to respect the memories of their comrades are the worst!”
Kakashi’s keen ears heard the softest noise, a small swallowed noise high in the other’s throat. Unbidden, his nostrils flared to detect any ambush in the waiting. His eye dilated in the faint light for the finest detail, the Sharingan spun in sharp spirals in preparation to leach and gnaw ravenously on his chakra supply.
Tobi murmured in mesmerization, “you have fangs.”
Kakashi hastily corrected his jaw. Rarely did he find himself so on edge to hunker and curl his lips just right. He had the same number of incisors as other shinobi and the prominent canine teeth of an Inuzuka. His premolars were serrated and on occasion, led to discrepancies with keeping food in his mouth. There was a reason he wore a mask as a child. The canine teeth always caught attention, especially in ANBU when they pressed against fabric mid-snarl.
Tobi, however, spoke with far too much curious admiration for a foreign shinobi. Absent-mindedly, the orange masked shinobi stepped forward to look closer to where Kakashi’s teeth had faintly impressed against the black cloth. Tobi repeatedly dazed, “you have actual fangs.”
Kakashi said grudgingly, “you’re worse than my students.”
“You have students,” Tobi repeated dumbly, “right. The Jinchuuriki-.”
“Naruto,” Kakashi corrected immediately. Things would never work if the man had no decency to recognize Naruto as a person, not a weapon. “His name is Naruto.”
“Naruto,” Tobi repeated oddly, “... Naruto.”
Kakashi slowly nodded, senses still on the fray. “I have two others. The strongest Kunoichi you’ll ever meet, and an impossible headache of an Uchiha.”
Then, beyond Kakashi’s expectation, Tobi snorted. It was a nasally ugly noise that did not fit the terrifying persona the man once had. It was ridiculous and amusing and Kakashi watched as Tobi shook his head, becoming more and more a person each passing second.
“Right,” Tobi said, pressing one hand to his head along the swirls of his mask that obscured half his vision. One hand fisted over the open hole in his cloak, pressing against the skin covering his heart. “Sasuke. The boy who travelled half the world for family.”
Kakashi asked a little sharply, “wouldn’t you? For those you love?”
Tobi flinched back, hand curling sharper against his chest. His other hand rose higher, fisting the ratty clumps of hair aggressively. Tobi shook his head quickly, shaking something free metaphorically with hurried movements.
Kakashi swallowed thickly and stepped forward. Tobi flinched back, stumbling once. Kakashi said delicately, “I’ve lived a long time, and most of that time was bad. I know the pain of loss, and I believe you do too. You and I have not been fortunate, but it could have been worse. I’ve found good friends, and perhaps now you can too.”
Tobi choked, a broken noise low in his throat. Both hands pulled at his head as he bent forward to laugh wetly and frantically. Kakashi kept his distance cautiously, his head hurting enough to make him wince. Above that was a strange invasive feeling that made him terribly sad.
“I can’t believe it after all this time…” Tobi said, sniffling wetly. Kakashi felt no shame with it. Tobi’s hand brushed against his mask roughly, forgetting about its presence. On contact, his hands stilled, drumming the surface anxiously and frantically.
“It’s alright to cry,” Kakashi said lamely.
Tobi snorted ugly once again, shaking his head to make his skull rattle. He laughed, low and ominous before it peaked in a loud piercing crescendo that burned Kakashi’s ears. In synchrony, Kakashi’s head throbbed and sent him to his knees. For the smallest of moments, he almost thought he saw himself from the perspective of someone else.
“Of course you say that!” Tobi cackled, then screamed in wordless frustration. Kakashi flinched back, his head so painful his vision swirled. Tobi laughed and shouted, “of course you’re the one to fucking say that!”
Kakashi flinched again and grit his teeth. He struggled to brace himself with his hands on the ground, commanding his body to crawl.
The closer he got, the more a phantom agony worked its way through his skin. His chakra was unresponsive, thankfully, since his grip on it was nonexistent. His skull felt close to implosion and his hands trembled as the distance dwindled. The spectre of Itachi’s mistake pressed knowingly, tugging at them intrinsically. Each step forward felt a thin stitch break free from who Kakashi was- a snare tightening around himself to wrench backwards out of his identity.
The mirage would not pass. The world of basalt and darkness was real- Kakashi would dwell on that at a later time when he had the emotional capacity to process it.
He crawled until he could press one open hand against Tobi’s knee. It was knobbly and firm with muscle. Protruding tendons around the defined bone gave an impression of old malnutrition.
Kakashi dug his fingers into skin and said, “I’m not letting you go!”
If the world could crack, Kakashi was sure it would. It felt horrible, with his heart and mind splitting away with his body tearing to somewhere else. The cold mirage of Itachi did something, it tore away at him with sharp beaks in his skin. He ground his teeth and snarled quietly at the overwhelming pressure with no source.
Tobi shook his head and bemoaned, “All those years for nothing, for nothing- that fucker took everything from me.”
Kakashi felt a single tear slip from his Sharingan. Kakashi said viciously, “don’t ruin yourself for revenge!”
“He took everything-.”
Kakashi grasped upwards and dug one hand in Tobi’s shoulder. He held firmly and repeated, “I’m not letting you go.”
Tobi stilled, then, vertigo slammed both men flat onto their sides. Kakashi barely resisted the vomit in his throat, it was a pain to remove from his mask later. Tobi groaned, sprawled on his side on the soft grass.
“Grass?” Kakashi asked hoarsely, touching soft stalks under each finger. The sun beat down on them, bright and chipper. The smell of flowers bit tangy in his sinuses.
“What?” Tobi asked, shaking as he touched the grass. “How did…?”
Kakashi sat up slowly, cautiously testing vertigo that reared brightly and the surprisingly absent ache in his skull. The sun hurt his Sharingan to look at, but no residual burn presented itself.
Tobi, sprawled on the grass nearby, clutched at his face. The orange mask with its intricate swirls was broken, thick fractures running through the wood with patterns reminding Kakashi of constellations.
Kakashi lifted a hand to his own face, relieved to find his mask at least had been spared.
“We’re back,” Kakashi explained needlessly. He was remarkably tired, “and I think whatever odd ability Itachi did finally faded.”
“Itachi?” Tobi repeated, fingers digging into the fractured mask. It had yet to fall away, held in place by both his hands. “A genjutsu?”
“Something else, but you could say that,” Kakashi said wearily. After a pause, he flopped back on the grass.
Tobi stared upwards at the sun and air. The flowers were bright, the grass soft and fragrant. The world was beautiful. Tobi asked, “you don’t know who I am, why would you invite me into your home?”
“Maa,” Kakashi said, “everyone needs a home.”
Tobi said quietly, “I have done horrible things.”
“Haven’t we all?” Kakashi said dismissively. Once again, under the sky and sun and open stars, he offered his hand to the shinobi. “Help us make it right. Come with me, back to the Leaf. Come home.”
Perhaps the suspicion had begun to grow back when they first met at the Hokage summit. Perhaps it was the odd expression Sasuke had and the knowledge that Kakashi himself was bait. Perhaps it had been there longer, hiding below Kakashi’s consciousness until the moment was right. His intuition had always been good, but now it existed beyond only his thoughts.
There was a familiarity in the knobby knee, in the scent of skin and the sounds of his crying. Kakashi had never placed feeling into emotion, too afraid to hope again when he had been wounded so many times.
Kakashi repeated softly, “come home.”
Tobi’s hand shakily met his, fingers thin and strong. The mask fell away as an egg hatched and Kakashi thought, ‘Uchiha are descendants from dragons.’
Kakashi tightened his grip around that trembling hand and with a fanged smile he said gently, “come home, Obito.”
Sniffling wetly, a bloodshot Sharingan glared at him as the Uchiha’s lip trembled amidst horrific scars. Kakashi accepted them, and later he would dwell on them sadly. For now, he held tightly and swore to never let him go again.
Obito said crackly, “stop making me cry, Bakashi! Or I’ll punch you in your kami-damned face!”
Obito's face scrunched as yet another wave of tears shed. He howled in sorrow and fragile hope, "and don't you dare call me a crybaby shinobi, or I'll punch you hard enough to break your stupid fangs!"
Wonderstruck and blessed by something granted to him by a merciful goddess, Kakashi thought, ‘truth.’
The first deaths came from the East. Monsters came from the ground, uprooting crops and trees as they consumed and destroyed an entire farming village in hours.
“We knew they were coming, Lady Hokage,” Shikaku told her grimly, “this is what they can do.”
“I know,” she said. “I only wish it hadn’t come to this.”
Shikaku nodded once, recognizing her sadness. “I can put the call out to the shinobi ranks. I heard from Gai that Hatake ran out of the village, a bit stir crazy.”
“Wonderful,” Tsunade said bitterly. “We’ve been in communication for this exact situation, send the alert to the other Kages for the plan. Any eyes on other occurrences?”
“Not yet, but I’d presume they’re targeting the coastline,” Shikaku reported, “the civilians we moved haven’t been targeted yet.”
They both knew the monsters would be searching for Naruto and Yugito. They were out of time.
“Have you heard from the Uchihas?” Tsunade demanded immediately, rising from her desk to storm out of the building. She needed to convene in the district, where the trio had taken to staying in their little free time.
“Both Itachi and Shisui are inside the village,” Shikaku stated, waving hand signals to the ANBU decorating the halls, “Sasuke has yet to return.”
“Of course he hasn’t,” Tsunade growled, resisting the urge to smash a wall. “And Jiraiya? Any word from Ame?”
“Nothing at this time,” Shikaku confirmed bitterly.
Tsunade and Shikaku hurried down the street as quickly as they could. The ANBU was set into motion by Shikaku’s signal, now flocking to both evacuate the civilians and rally the shinobi on leave. The city had no centralized alarm, but for the frantic energy and intermittent screaming children, they may as well be under siege.
“Uchiha!” Tsunade roared as she stormed into the district. The many cats startled violently, yowling and glaring at her approach. She threw them a crude gesture and stomped further past the wards, mumbling bitterly under her breath.
“Uchiha!” Tsunade shouted at the sight of a comically large sword connected to an alarmed Shisui. She dismissed both Shikamaru and Temari at first glance, then registered the old sword in the boy’s hand.
“What is that sword?” she asked, baffled.
Shisui wiggled his enormous hunk of metal and said slowly, “uh, a broadsword?”
“Not you,” she snapped, pointing at Shikamaru, “him.”
“It’s an old blade, Hokage-sama,” Temari filled in hastily, “we...Shikamaru and I found it and we were asking Uchiha-san if he could recognize it.”
“It’s really old,” Shisui said with a lame smile.
Shikaku sighed behind Tsunade and said something along the line of ‘how is he such an idiot?’
Tsunade rubbed her temple and jerked one hand out. Shikamaru awkwardly handed the old metal over, setting the rotting leather into her palm.
“I...know this,” she said slowly, struggling to recall the shape or style of the blade. She couldn’t quite place it. “I can’t remember where, but the style…”
“It’s fine if you don’t know,” Shikamaru said, nervously taking the sword back. He awkwardly threw a small wave to his father, who politely nodded back before musing his hair. Shikamaru flushed as Temari started laughing, trying to correct it quickly.
“What’s the problem?” Shisui asked the Hokage with a serious look, “I saw the village getting nervous. First reported attack?”
“Eastern side, civilians only,” she reported quickly. Shisui’s expression darkened at each word. She ordered quickly, “normally I’d want you and Hatake scouring out East, but he’s off chasing squirrels. Scout North along the caravan paths, you came from that direction initially so you should recall any differences.”
Shisui’s eyes bled crimson at her words, memorizing them instantly. He nodded and inquired about her parameters on any scouts.
“No mercy,” she said. He flickered with a surge of chakra and vanished.
“You two,” Tsunade said to the younger Chunin, “head West. See if the border of Suna is still intact, start directing the troops being gathered from the other villages. They’re looking for the bijuu, so we’ll bait them in that direction.”
“A disguise?” Shikamaru predicted.
“A disguise,” Tsunade agreed, eyes shifting to Temari pointedly, “are you capable of a henge to appear as Naruto? Your chakra style can help with necessary jumps to appear convincingly.”
“Of course, Hokage-sama,” she said with a polite bow, “who will take the place of Yugito, Hokage-sama?”
“Itachi Uchiha, once you find him,” she instructed, “keep moving, use the night and let him take points for that duration. You’ll know what to do.”
“Hai,” Shikamaru agreed, sliding the sword onto his back in a harness that did not fit him, but instead looked ready for a shorter blade like a Tanto.
“Hokage-sama,” Shikaku asked quietly with a pointed look, “are you going to head to the intelligence division for the war duration?”
“Kami no,” she said with a huff, “I’m most useful out there. Find my damn students and get the medic squadron moving south, then west to avoid any attention on those three. We’re going to damn war, not hiding at a conference table!”
Shikaku nodded, ducking away at the earliest convenience. Tsunade glanced skywards and muttered, “Uchiha brat...I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“This is the worst,” Naruto complained, nestled on a hammock made from a trap net and two very sturdy kunai.
“You clearly haven’t had to share a tent with four grown men,” Tenzo muttered, poking the fire with a stick.
Yugito smiled, sitting comfortably on her bedroll in full heat from the fire. She hummed to herself, vibrations lowering and lifting in tune to a rhythmic song neither Tenzo nor Naruto knew. Her humming never faltered, rumbling a steady purr as she brushed and braided her hair into a thick plait down the nape of her neck.
“I’m just so bored,” Naruto complained, swinging back and forth irritably, “I should be fighting! Not on vacation!”
“You are not on vacation,” Yugito corrected patiently, “you’re hiding and biding your time. You are shockingly blunt and headstrong.”
Naruto’s nose wrinkled. He looked at her and asked, “yeah? You got something to say?”
“I’m simply surprised,” she said with a little shrug, “I had thought the Kyuubi was a mischievous creature, not...so headstrong.”
Naruto scowled at her. His nose wrinkled after a half-second and he huffed further, muttering a quiet, “Oh shut it, ya furball.”
Tenzo’s eyes widened warily at the communication. Yugito smiled and resumed her braiding. She explained, “I had heard and presumed the vessel to be mischievous.”
“Oh, you haven’t heard about Naruto as a child,” Tenzo said with a quiet groan, “the amount of work…”
Naruto flung back into the hammock, cackling heartily. “Some of those pranks were good! You know it too, dattebayo!”
Playfully, Tenzo explained to the kunoichi, “when Naruto was younger, he stuck stinkbombs into crabapples. In ANBU we had a rotating watch for him, the poor group didn’t realize it at first and hashed a dozen open and stunk up the entire quarters.”
“Oh, that one was so good!” Naruto agreed with a wide toothy grin, “did I get ya, Yamato? Oh oh! What about when I put catnip in the barbeque place that all those jounin go to?”
“ You caused the cat-tastrophy?” Tenzo gaped in genuine surprise. He laughed heartily, “oh, poor Kakashi looked so stressed he wore three masks after that!”
“You are a little trickster,” Yugito said with open mirth. She prodded the fire again, then stretched her fingers just shy of the flame. Tenzo looked a little worried at her close proximity and her long hair.
“Eh, I guess so?” Naruto said, pondering the thought. “I mean...I just wanted attention as a kid. I lived alone and…”
Yugito’s gentle smile faltered into an expression of deep sadness. She ducked her head so Naruto could not see it, hidden by her hair.
“But now...now I have really cool friends,” Naruto said with a wide smile, “they’re so great! I’ve got Sakura-chan and Shikamaru-Kun. And even Temari-san is pretty cool! And now Kakashi-Senpai brings me food and Pervy Sage is like, I dunno…” Naruto paused in contemplation, “I mean...I don’t have any parents but...I guess those two are kinda like them?”
Tenzo cleared his throat, trying not to reveal how hoarse he felt. “Naruto he…”
Naruto glanced at Tenzo with wide eyes. Coughing once, Tenzo tried to speak again, “Naruto, Kakashi...well I...erm…”
Naruto cocked his head inquisitive. Yugito politely kept her eyes on the fire.
“He...he was close friends with your parents,” Tenzo said lamely, “he...I- if it wasn’t for the rule…”
“Oh, yeah,” Naruto said with sudden understanding. He smiled shyly at Tenzo and said, “I actually know about that, but thanks! I get it, the rule kinda sucked but now you’re my family too!”
Tenzo choked and looked at his feet, trying very hard not to blush.
“Forgive my intrusion,” Yugito said quietly, “but...was the former vessel not…”
“Former vessel?” Naruto parroted with a tilt of his head, “you mean there was someone before me?”
“The bijuu haven’t freely walked in many centuries,” Yugito said, “the former vessel for Matatabi was not a kind man, but I had heard rumours as a young girl to avoid Konohagakure’s Jinchuuriki.”
Naruto had never considered that before, he turned his head to look at Tenzo who shifted uncomfortably.
“Yamato-sensei,” Naruto asked innocently, “did you know them?”
Tenzo gulped as both pairs of eyes affixed on him. He sweated nervously and lifted both arms defensively, spluttering, “I- ah…”
Naruto’s nose wrinkled suddenly and he looked away with a pout. After a pause, he twisted his head in confusion and said, “what? Why can’t you just speak normally?”
Tenzo had a very bad feeling.
His time in ANBU had exposed him to many sad things. Those occasions had him as an active part, either comforting or aiding those who in mourning. It was entirely different to witness an internal discussion from an outside perspective. Tenzo could not hear the Biju. but he could watch the steady culmination of facts and knowledge that slowly turned Naruto’s smile downward. His eyes widened, watching nothing as his playful expression turned into open horror.
“What?” Naruto said to a voice only he heard, “but- but that’s not- but Kakashi-sensei would have said something!”
“Naruto-.” Tenzo tried to say as Naruto leapt up from the hammock, pointing his finger at Tenzo instantly.
“You!” he shouted in open betrayal, “you knew! You knew that my- my mo-.”
He choked off, unable to say the word. Yugito leapt to her feet gracefully, visibly alarmed as Naruto began to cry. “Naruto-chan…”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me about her!” Naruto shouted at Tenzo, “I- I had a family and-.”
“Naruto,” Tenzo said quietly and sincerely, “I never had the pleasure of meeting her.”
Naruto’s face wobbled, “but- but Kurama said-.”
“Naruto,” Yugito asked gently, “perhaps you should ask Kurama?”
Naruto looked at her, then sniffled and climbed back into his hammock, yanking his bedroll over him as a quasi blanket. The sun had not yet set and the night had not yet cooled the air enough for blankets to be necessary. Both adults pretended they did not hear Naruto sniffle quietly until he fell asleep.
Kurama had been waiting patiently, tense and expectant for some horrid disaster he could not name. Tense in his cage of open space and lush forests, he waited patiently with paws curled under him.
Naruto settled heavily on the ground, wiping his running nose repeatedly against his arms. Still sobbing, Kurama watched the boy impassively.
Kurama said with a deep rumble, “this cage was made by the Yondaime, Minato Namikaze.”
Naruto stopped crying, sniffing loudly to look at the fox with wet eyes. He asked with a distorted voice, “so? Are ya’ tryin’ to impress me or somethin’?”
Kurama huffed warm moist air from afar. Adjusting one of his many tails, it swished across an open area without the barrier of chains or seals. Naruto wiped his face and slapped the ground a few times in pointless frustration before he became ready to listen.
Naruto sniffled twice more before he asked quietly and horribly exposed, “...what was he like?”
Kurama pondered his words and thought of how to respond. The Yondaime had left enough of his chakra in the remnants of the seal, now open, to perhaps form an imprint for Naruto. Similarly, enough of the woman’s chakra existed in the remnants of the chains themselves for the now redundant moment where Naruto would become corrupt by Kurama.
The bijuu had no intention of that anymore, not with the foreign insight of what loomed on the horizon. Centuries of hate were hard to forget, but clinging to a pointless rage was harder to continue.
“A brave human,” Kurama admitted grudgingly, “perhaps not wise, but a brave and kind man.”
Naruto’s eyes glimmered wetly and he looked to the fox in wonder. He asked quietly, “he...I took his jutsu. Would...would he be mad?”
Kurama sighed and wondered if all these petty human emotions were truly worth it. He said, “ He would likely be excited and do something stupid. Like you.”
Naruto smiled shyly, fiddling with his hands. “I...er...did you...do you know the uh...your former…” Did you know my mother?
“Yes,” Kurama said with a tad more aggression, his ears pinning down and teeth gleaming white. Unbridled, he bristled with resentment, “she was led by fear and rage.”
Naruto’s smile started to falter, he plucked at the grass for something to do nervously. Naruto asked quietly, “so...not uh...not a nice person, eh?”
Kurama could have agreed. He could have led Naruto to presume something false for his own amusement. He could have watched the distress grow until such a point Naruto too shared his resentment.
‘Don’t be so cruel,’ Matatabi would scold him and flick her tails, ‘they are kin, just as we are.’
Kurama flicked his tails and flexed his paws. He gazed at the boy with growing unease and said in the calm, “Kushina Uzumaki was a stern vessel, but I suppose humans would call her nice.”
Naruto’s eyes widened, he looked at Kurama with the barest growing seed of hope. He asked, “...Uzumaki? Like...me? I have...her name?”
Kurama pondered his options and what he would receive in return. After a moment of consideration, he stretched until his bones crackled and tension oozed near visibly. Naruto watched him curiously, not interrupting and not prying for more information. After a moment, Kurama closed his eyes and settled in a light doze.
Naruto did not bother him or stir him from his sleep. Patient and understanding, the human waited long past the point that Kurama anticipated.
Finally, Kurama gathered his words and said in a baritone rumble, “Kushina Uzumaki was your sire, the previous holder.”
“My mother?” Naruto whispered, too afraid to speak louder, “But- but you said she was mean and-.”
“She acted as any human would,” Kurama said. He would not defend Kushina’s actions and her fear, but he understood it. “As did your father.”
Naruto shifted quietly and asked so softly Kurama almost missed it, “my...dad?”
The fox opened one eye, squinting at Naruto’s nervous shifting. Keenly, Kurama mused, “you already know.”
Naruto shrugged self-consciously, curling his legs to his chest. He said with stuttering breaths, “I mean- I’ve been thinking... and Kakashi-sensei didn’t say anything outright but he always says to look underneath the underneath and I was just…”
Kurama huffed a soft laugh, opening both eyes wide. “The Yondaime, but you already knew this.”
Naruto waited and said softly, “...yeah.”
Too many people presumed Naruto Uzumaki to be stupid and ignorant. The boy was surprisingly observant, simply too afraid of rejection to take the leap towards knowledge others shunned. Kurama considered the boy and the freedom he had been given. There were no chains to pin him now with the seal open, there was no chakra demanding he stay in place. He knew the words of his siblings and the looming threat of something worse coming.
He recognized an odd chakra of something that did not exist back as Konoha crushed into the ground. More than desperation, it was a strength welling from an unseen source that manifested as Naruto’s headache and Kurama’s confusion. The foreign impossible body of a dragon came disguised as an old heavenly god Kurama never cared for. There was something stirring, pressing closer like pines in a heavy wind.
Kurama dwelled on the shifting concerns of the future and finally permitted himself to share some of Naruto’s endless compassion. The great fox said, “pay attention, brat.”
Naruto’s forehead scrunched as he looked upwards, mouth open in confusion-.
Kurama existed within this plane for longer than Naruto had been alive. He knew the turns and wells of chakra that hung in heavy curtains. He knew how to view the mountains he once called home, or saturate the air with flower pollen.
He knew how to tower tall and arch his neck lower to cower oppressively over the phantom shift of old memories turned physical.
Kurama turned his head aside, pretending to not listen or hear as Naruto choked loudly. The sobbing came immediately, heavy ugly noises as Naruto clutched his face in open shock. Overwhelmed, the boy crumpled to his knees in distress and wonder.
Kurama recalled the memory- previously layered with his frustration and rage at the Sharingan’s control and his small breath of freedom. He recalled the chains that pinned him violently, and the words he once scoffed at as pathetic and weak.
Naruto, on the other hand, sobbed quietly. He swiped at his running nose as the memory of Kushina and Minato arched over the small body of an infant.
“...We won’t be seeing him for a while….so let’s...tell him...what we want to say to him…”
Kushina’s watery laugh used to set Kurama’s fur on end. Here, all Kurama could focus on was Naruto’s quiet tears and delighted breathless laughing.
“Naruto...don’t be a picky eater,” she said from Kurama’s memory, “eat a lot and grow big and strong! Take your bath every day… go to bed early and sleep well.”
Naruto nodded jerkily, going, “okay- I will mom.”
She carried on, unknowing of her son. “Study hard on your Ninjutsu...I was never very good at it...maybe you will...everyone is good at some things and not so good at others...And if things don’t go so well- don’t get so depressed. At the academy, listen to your teachers. Make friends!”
Naruto said between hitching sobs, “I will- I have! I have so many friends now mom!”
“It doesn’t matter how many...just make sure that they’re people you can really trust. And a few is enough!”
Naruto nodded jerkily, reaching out with one hand as if he could touch. Kurama did not provide the image of his claw protruding from both adults’ chest, but the sickly sheen and touch of death was evident.
Naruto bit his lip as Kushina continued to babble on to her child, “ Regarding the Three Prohibitions of the shinobi, be careful when you loan and borrow money, make sure to save your missions pay carefully. And no drinking alcohol until you’re 20! Too much sake is harmful for your body. As for girls...well...I’m a girl so I don’t really know what to say...but sooner or later, you’ll want a girlfriend and that’s normal...just don’t fall for a strange one...try to find someone...like me? Oh- one more thing...watch out for Jiraiya-Sensei dattebane!”
Naruto laughed, tears freely pouring from his eyes. He smiled broad and wobbling, the expression bright aside from his red eyes. Kurama thought it was a shame neither parent would ever see Naruto's face.
“I will!” Naruto said to the memory needlessly, promising himself, “I will!”
“Naruto,” Minato said with a gentle adoring smile. “My words to you as your father….is ditto to your loquacious mother I guess!”
Naruto erupted in more laughter, nodding frantically, “yeah! Yeah, I’ll- I’ll make you proud dad!”
“Naruto…” Kushina said, her lip wobbling as she began to cry, “there’s going to be hard and painful times ahead. Take good care of yourself! Find a goal...a dream...and don’t stop trying until it comes true!”
Naruto’s smile wobbled as Kushina sobbed openly, Minato hugging her gently as she trembled violently. Naruto cried, raptly struggling to memorize every feature on his parent's faces. There was no other option, no mementoes or objects left for his inheritance. No other opportunities to hear the sound of his mother's voice or see how Naruto inherited his father's smile.
"There’s...there’s- there’s so much more I want to tell you...to teach you! I want to stay with you longer...I love you.”
“I love you too,” Naruto said heavily. He stepped forward with one arm outstretched, expression faltering as it passed through the memory and dissipated into the mental plane.
Kurama anticipated more tears. He expected messy wailing like a newborn babe, perhaps screaming at the injustice of the world. Naruto did neither. He stepped forward once more, walking shakily through the grass where his parents had stood and continued walking.
To Kurama’s shock, Naruto strode to him freely and pressed one hand to Kurama’s long claw. Then, Naruto slumped forward to embrace him with both arms.
“Thank you,” Naruto said into Kurama’s fur, “thank you- thank you.”
Kurama stared. Bewildered and stunned, Naruto continued to thank him, going so far as to hug him tighter. Naruto looked upward with determined wet eyes and said, “I’m gonna do what my mom said, Kurama! I’ve already made friends, and I have a goal and a dream and I’m gonna do whatever it takes to save my family! We’re gonna save your siblings Kurama and- and I won’t stop until it comes true!”
Kurama protested, “the woman said that to only you.”
“That’s what I said,” Naruto protested with a shy wet smile, “you are my family, ya dumb-furball. How many times do I gotta say that?”
Kurama wondered how many times the boy would live to surprise him. How many years would it stretch to where he could no longer feel this sense of confusion.
Naruto smiled at him with the warmth of the sun, and through that light, Kurama felt old forgotten feelings.
Naruto reached up with one hand shyly, hand curled into a small fist. Kurama knew this symbol and action was one of respect and companionship. A human had never offered it to him.
Slowly, cautiously, Kurama withdrew a paw and curled each digit so that his claws were tucked away and knuckles protruded. He stretched forward and gently knocked his fist against the human.
The Sage once told him he would find a family again, find those to protect and care for. It had been so long, he almost forgot it.
Naruto gasped suddenly, eyes widening as he yanked his fist away jerkily. Alarmed, Kurama’s ears flattened as Naruto’s other hand pawed to open his fist. Manually uncurling each finger, he peered at the molten mark branding itself with oozing chakra.
“What?” Naruto gasped, flinching in pain as something pulsed. It thrummed not only in the boy but through the shared mindscape. Kurama could not understand it- no human could access this plane without a Sharingan.
“What the…?”
Kurama felt the intrusion, the chakra slipping and manifesting as a stranger through the mark on Naruto’s hand. Snarling, Kurama turned his neck and pulled his tails around the boy protectively. He spat terrifyingly at the area of condensing chakra, “you are not welcome here!”
“Kurama?” Naruto asked from within his tails, pulling at his hair nervously, “Kurama what’s happening? What’s going on?”
‘They used his chakra,’ Kurama concluded, sensing no difference between the boy in his tails and the mirage in front of them. ‘They used Naruto’s chakra to form inside this place.’
The boy had not been bothered in the waking world. It had to be sealwork, or a level of slow-acting parasitism. Kurama could not fathom how such a thing was occurring, let alone with Matatabi so close and able to intervene.
“Kurama let me out!” Naruto shouted as the fox used yet another tail to close his human entirely in a protective shell, “let me help you!”
“I will rip your flesh from your bones,” Kurama threatened the invader, “I will tear you from existence.”
Naruto wriggled between his tails, determined to escape. Slippery like a breaching fish, he maneuvered despite Kurama’s attempts to hide him. Poking from the orange fur, Naruto’s hair stood in disarray as he prepared to shout at the intruder.
“Nee, were you always so cranky?” they asked tiredly, appearing with a faint smile and a lopsided shrug, “man, I forgot how much you used to say you’d eat me, dattebayo!”
Kurama curled his lip in a silent snarl. He said, “it is no threat. I will destroy you.”
“Yeah yeah,” the doppelganger said with one wave to dismiss the beast, “where’s the little me? Aww man, I tried so hard to get here! That dumb bird wouldn’t say anything and Teme just vanished and now I’m back when you used to try and turn me crazy? How’s that fair?”
“What?” Naruto gaped from between Kurama’s tails, flopping forward to smack face-first onto the ground. Groaning, Naruto rightened himself to gape at the intruder openly. “What- who are you?”
“Who am I?” they asked in visible amusement, “I’m you.”
“Nu-uh,” Naruto denied instantly, “you only have one arm!”
“Well, yeah,” the man said with a shrug, showing off the bandaged stump, “I mean, I kinda uh...blew it off?”
Kurama considered for the first time that perhaps this intruder was telling the truth.
“Wha?” Naruto gaped, flopping onto the ground, “but- but how could that happen?”
“A lot of Rasengans,” the man said, then paused, “hmm...but that’s not important! I’m here to try and help you! I guess Teme did fix somethin’ since ya don’t look all angry and frustrated because of the zombie thing and plant invasion.”
“The what?”
“Not important!” the man said, waving his one hand pointedly, “look! I guess like, ya got the mark thing, yeah?”
Naruto dumbly looked at his hand and the mark on the display. It still hurt, throbbing violently and glowed faintly. The man beamed at the sight of it, pointing dramatically with his single arm.
“Yeah! Super Gramps-Sage didn’t really explain much about that, but it’s important,” the man promised before looking up at the Kyuubi with warm eyes. “Kurama, you’re a bit different. Don’t tell me he won you over before I did!”
Kurama puffed air aggressively, tails thrashing violently. He slammed one claw into the ground, rippling it into long circles of water as the hazy green catacombs returned and flourished. Kurama snarled, “I refuse to believe this ruse.”
The man pouted and put his arm on his hip, “hey! It’s not a ruse! I tried to reach out before but it wasn’t really getting through. Whenever the seal opened I tried!”
“That was you?” Naruto asked, scratching his head, “I knew something weird was happening during the invasion!”
“Invasion?” the man asked with a furrowed brow, “Nagato?”
“Who?” Naruto asked.
The man’s eyes widened quickly and his smile faltered. A sort of quiet grief claimed him before he sighed heavily and said, “ah, yeah. I shouldn’t have thought...well, Teme didn’t know him so he wouldn’t have…”
Kurama had enough of the nonsense. Freed from his shackles, nothing stopped him from lifting a claw and slamming it on the small creature. He felt it below his paw, the small presence of an ant below his toes as he smashed it into the ground.
Then, impossibly, it wriggled between his bones until a scruffy head poked up between his nails with an open pout. The illusion huffed and said, “maa, why do you always have to do that? I always get fur in my mouth!”
Kurama pulled his head forward and lunged forward to snap the pesky thing below his teeth.
Closer, Kurama saw the moment the illusion’s eyes changed. They warped, distorting with an influx of nature chakra tasting of the toads. Then, it advanced into vertical slats as energy not from the toad species swirled, but from the land and nature itself. Orange and familiar, Kurama gazed into the eyes not of a shinobi sage, but of unity with chakra.
“Hey Kurama,” the man said as the bijuu froze so close it felt the man’s hair on his nose. Fearlessly, the man’s hand stretched out to press gently against the whiskers of Kurama’s muzzle just shy of elongated fangs. The man smiled, gentle and knowing and said, “you’ve come a long way, haven’t you?”
‘This is impossible,’ Kurama thought to himself, ‘I know this chakra.’
It was the same odd feeling from the destruction of Konoha. It felt too similar to be anything or anyone but Naruto, but Kurama could not comprehend how. The man smiled adoringly and said softly, “ya know, your dad is really proud of you.”
‘The sage,’ Kurama thought distressed, ‘the Uchiha brat had spread the word, but…’
“I know this has been really hard for you,” the man continued, gently scratching along Kurama’s snout, “but you’re opening yourself up so much! I know some jerks think you’re just a ball of chakra but you’re more than that! You’re not a monster fox anymore. You’re one of my teammates and my family, Kurama.”
One hand on Kurama’s face, the man, Naruto, said, “let me help you two, dattebayo!”
Kurama pulled away slowly, rumbling deep in his throat. Naruto by his tails anxiously peered between the two, worrying his bottom lip openly.
“Naruto…” Kurama said to his vessel by his flank, vision flickering to the starburst orange in their temporary visitor’s eyes, “listen to him.”
“Alright!” their guest cheered, pumping his only hand into the air. With a broad smile, the older man said, “lemme tell ya everything ya gotta know about that dumb Madara and that stupid rabbit-eared loser!”
“Eh?” Naruto blanched in confusion, “a rabbit? What?”
“Ignore that!” the man yelled, bouncing on his toes, “hmm...well, I guess the easiest thing would be to...uh...well where’s Sasuke gone?”
“Sasuke?” Naruto parroted dumbly, “I don’t know? Teme just keeps running off! He doesn’t tell us anything! The last time I saw him he was all weird about a dumb mask.”
The man gazed at them blankly before some sort of realization hit, “oh,"
The man's eyes sharpened, He breathed, "Oh. Huh, that solves some stuff I guess. Don’t worry about him! That stubborn Uchiha knows what he’s doing, so I guess you just gotta learn how to meld your chakra together.”
Kurama rumbled in displeasure at that idea. He hadn’t ever done so, and although he had seen Matatabi do as such, the prospect of such connection was daunting.
“Don’t worry about it, Kurama,” the man comforted as his eyes once more turned orange and vulpine. Long fangs shifted out of his face and with a distorted ominous echo, two voices said, “we’ll make sure nothing bad happens.”
In the sunrise of the next morning, Yugito jolted to her feet with hands prepared as long claws. Her teeth lengthened and her pupils contracted as Matatabi illuminated brightly in preparation. Tenzo stumbled to his feet with hands prepared for seals. Chakra stuttered heavily around them, an orange glow of sunrise piercing the low fog.
Naruto sat on the edge of their camp, gazing to the horizon where the lower valleys turned the treetops golden with the dawn. The air felt crisp and cool with dew, fresh with new expectations. Naruto hummed softly, voice echoing the second rumble of a deep growl originating from his heart.
“Naruto-Kun?” Yugito asked with hissing breaths. The faintest glimmer of tails thrashed about her nervously, “are you alright?”
Naruto contemplated the morning and said happily, “...yeah, I’m good.”
“Naruto?” Tenzo asked slowly, swallowing thickly, “you...are you in control?”
“Hmm?” Naruto asked, craning his neck to glance between them confused. Tenzo’s breath escaped him at the sight of elongated pupils, burning furiously under the orange chakra skin swirling above the boy’s flesh. Naruto said oblivious, “yeah? Whatcha mean?”
Matatabi imposed her question, which Yugito verbalized instantaneously, “Kurama is awake?”
“Oh!” Naruto said with a wide smile. The tangible orange tails curled around him gently, wriggling at their tips. Naruto laughed happily and said, “don’t worry about that! We worked out all our issues!”
“You worked them out?” Tenzo squeaked.
Matatabi found this keenly interesting. Yugito recited, “you...merged?”
Naruto’s easy smile turned feral. Muscles around his eyes slackened and tightened in other areas. Unknowingly, his hands curled partially and with a low rasp in a tone Tenzo had never heard before, Kurama said, “There’s no more need for stalling. The sage walks.”
It was Matatabi who spoke, pushing forward to hiss in shock, "What?"
Kurama or Naruto or a mixture in between eyed both adults with determination. They said, "didn't you hear? It's time to save the world."