22Ten years ago, the village of Konoha was abuzz with anticipation for a momentous event—the birth of the Hokage's children. The night sky was a canvas of twinkling stars, casting a serene glow over the Hidden Leaf Village as medical ninjas hurriedly prepared for the delivery. Inside a heavily guarded chamber, hidden from the world, Kushina Uzumaki endured the intense pain of labor while also focusing on maintaining the seal that imprisoned the formidable Nine-Tailed Fox within her.
"Breathe, Kushina," whispered Biwako, the Third Hokage's wife, who was serving as midwife. "You must keep the seal stable while bringing these children into the world."
Kushina gritted her teeth, sweat beading on her forehead as another contraction hit. "I know," she gasped, her hands clutching the sides of the birthing table. "I won't let it break."Minato stood nearby, his palms pressed against his wife's swollen belly, channeling his chakra to reinforce the weakening seal. The intricate pattern glowed faintly under his touch, responding to his efforts.
The first child arrived with a shock of blond hair, his tiny face scrunched in protest as he let out his first cry. They named him Naruto. His siblings followed soon after: Asami, inheriting her mother's vibrant red hair, and Memma, whose features were a harmonious blend of both parents' traits.
"They're beautiful," Minato whispered, tears welling in his eyes as he gazed at his three newborns. "Our children, Kushina."
Kushina smiled weakly, exhausted but overjoyed. "Three little miracles," she murmured, reaching out to touch Naruto's soft cheek.
What should have been a joyous night rapidly spiraled into chaos. A sinister figure, masked and emanating an aura of malevolence, infiltrated the birthing chamber. The ANBU guards outside fell without a sound, their bodies crumpling to the floor before they could raise an the ensuing confusion, he seized baby Naruto from the arms of a startled medical ninja. The infant's cries pierced the suddenly silent room.
"Stay back," the masked man commanded, his single visible eye—a blood-red Sharingan—scanning the room methodically. "The seal weakens during childbirth," he stated, his voice unnervingly calm as he brandished a kunai perilously close to the newborn. "Surrender the Jinchuriki."
Biwako and another medical assistant moved to protect Kushina, but with a flick of his wrist, the masked man cut them down, their bodies hitting the floor with a sickening thud.
"No!" Kushina cried out, struggling to rise despite her weakened state.
Minato's heart pounded against his ribcage at the sight of his son in peril. Time seemed to slow as he calculated his options, measuring the distance between himself and the intruder, weighing the risk to his son.
"Who are you?" Minato demanded, his eyes never leaving the kunai hovering near Naruto's tiny form. "What do you want with my family?"
"What every man of vision wants," the masked figure replied, his tone almost conversational. "A world reshaped in my image."
With the lightning speed that had earned him the title "Yellow Flash," Minato swiftly moved to rescue Naruto, teleporting the infant to safety. The masked man's kunai sliced through empty air where the child had been a millisecond before.
"Impressive as always, Fourth Hokage," the intruder acknowledged. "But your wife comes with me."
Yet, in that fleeting moment of distraction, the masked intruder vanished, taking Kushina with him. Her weak cry of "Minato!" echoed in the room before fading to silence.
Minato appeared in a safehouse on the outskirts of the village, cradling Naruto. He quickly placed the infant in a small crib, where Asami and Memma had already been transported by his shadow clone.
"Naruto, I'll be back," Minato whispered, placing his son beside his wailing siblings before disappearing in a flash of yellow light. His mind raced, tracking the unique chakra signature of his wife. "Hold on, Kushina. I'm coming."
When Minato located Kushina, she was bound by chakra chains to a stone altar, her body weakened from both the strain of childbirth and the extraction process. Her red hair, normally vibrant, lay limp and dull around her pale face. The seal on her abdomen was broken, complex patterns unraveling like a tapestry coming undone.
"Minato," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "He took the Nine-Tails..."
The Fourth Hokage's gaze snapped upward. The fearsome fox now towered over the village, its nine tails wreaking havoc, obliterating buildings, and claiming lives with every sweep. Its roar shook the very foundations of Konoha, a sound of primal rage that sent civilians scattering in terror.
"I'll take care of it," Minato promised, carefully breaking the chains that bound his wife. "But first, I need to get you to safety."
Minato gently carried his wife back to their children, her breathing shallow yet steady in his arms. The safehouse remained untouched, a small island of calm in the storm engulfing the village.
"Our babies," Kushina murmured, reaching out weakly as Minato laid her beside the three infants. Naruto had fallen asleep, but Asami and Memma continued to cry, as if sensing the danger threatening their home.
"Rest, Kushina. I'll take care of this," he assured her, tenderly brushing a strand of red hair from her pallid face. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I promise you, our family will be safe."
With one last look at his vulnerable family, Minato's expression hardened with resolve. He adjusted his Hokage cloak, checked his supply of specialized kunai, and teleported to confront the masked adversary.
Minato V.S. Masked Man
The air crackled with tension as Minato stood face-to-face with the enigmatic masked figure on a rooftop overlooking the village. Below them, chaos reigned as the Nine-Tails' thunderous roars reverberated through the night, sending waves of panic across the Hidden Leaf. The distant cries of civilians and the crumbling of buildings formed a horrific backdrop to their confrontation.
"Why attack Konoha?" Minato demanded, his normally gentle blue eyes now steely with unwavering resolve. His cloak billowed around him in the wind created by the Nine-Tails' destructive fury. "What do you hope to gain from this senseless destruction?"
The masked man tilted his head slightly, revealing a single Sharingan eye through the ominous orange spiral mask. The red eye gleamed with malice in the moonlight, its tomoe spinning slowly, hypnotically. "The Hidden Leaf, the Nine-Tails... they're merely stepping stones for what's to come, Hokage."
"You speak in riddles while innocent people die," Minato replied, his voice tight with controlled anger. "Whoever you are, whatever your goal, I will stop you here."
"Many have tried," the masked man said with a cold chuckle. "All have failed."
Without warning, the man launched an attack, brandishing a chain with a vicious blade that sliced through the air with lethal precision. The metal gleamed in the moonlight as it cut an arc toward Minato's throat.
Minato deftly dodged the first strike, feeling the rush of air as the blade missed his face by inches. The chain's links rattled ominously as the masked man pulled it back for another attempt.
"You'll need to be faster than that," Minato said, reaching for a kunai from the pouch at his hip. But the second attack caught him off guard, the chain coiling tightly around his arm like a metal snake. Pain lanced through his limb as the links tightened, threatening to crush bone. Instead of succumbing to panic, Minato swiftly formed a swirling blue Rasengan in his free hand while simultaneously flicking a three-pronged kunai toward his opponent's mask. The specialized kunai, marked with his Flying Thunder God seal, spun through the air with deadly accuracy.
"Your techniques are legendary, Fourth Hokage," the masked man acknowledged, making no move to dodge the incoming weapon. "But they won't work on me."
As anticipated, the kunai passed harmlessly through the man's head—a perplexing technique Minato had never encountered before. The blade embedded itself in the rooftop behind the masked figure with a solid thunk.
"What are you?" Minato muttered, his analytical mind already processing this new information.
"The harbinger of a new world order," came the reply, smug confidence evident in every syllable. Seizing the momentary distraction, Minato activated his Flying Thunder God technique, vanishing in a flash of yellow light only to reappear behind the masked adversary, exactly where his kunai had landed. With pinpoint accuracy, he drove the Rasengan into his opponent's back, the spiraling chakra tearing through fabric and flesh.
The masked man's body jerked forward with the impact, a cry of pain escaping from behind the orange spiral. "Impressive," the masked man hissed through gritted teeth, his concentration shattered by the searing pain. "You managed to land a hit."
"And I've marked you with my Flying Thunder God seal," Minato revealed, his voice cold and certain. "You can't escape me now."
The masked man staggered, clutching at his wounded back. "This changes nothing," he spat. "The plan is already in motion. The Nine-Tails will destroy Konoha, and from its ashes, a new era will rise."
Momentarily freed from the Sharingan's control, the Nine-Tails thrashed wildly, its hatred-filled eyes scanning for a new target. Its massive tails swept through buildings, sending debris flying in all directions. Civilians ran screaming through the streets as the ninja attempted to evacuate them to safety.
Minato wasted no time savoring victory; his thoughts were consumed with the safety of his family and village. With urgency, he teleported back to where Kushina stood vigilant, guarding their newborns amidst the turmoil. He found her leaning against the wall of the safehouse, one arm wrapped protectively around the triplets, the other extended outward as she prepared to form a chakra barrier if needed.
"Minato," she breathed, relief washing over her features. "The Nine-Tails—"
"I know," he said grimly, moving quickly to her side. "We need to protect our children and save the village. Are you strong enough to help me?"
Kushina straightened, her crimson hair matted with sweat against her pale face. Despite the exhaustion of childbirth and the trauma of the Nine-Tails' extraction, an innate Uzumaki resilience sparked in her violet eyes." For our children and our home," she said with fierce determination, her voice gaining strength with each word.
"I will find the strength." Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for Naruto, the oldest of the triplets, who lay quietly beside his more vocal siblings. The night air carried the sounds of destruction—splintering wood, crumbling stone, and the terrified screams of villagers. The forest around them shuddered with each devastating attack from the Nine-Tails. Orange light flickered through the trees as fires spread throughout Konoha.
Minato's face was grim, etched with lines of worry that made him look years older. His signature yellow flash technique had gotten them to safety, but the respite would be brief. He glanced toward the village, where plumes of smoke rose against the night sky. The beast's roar echoed across the forest, followed by another tremor that sent leaves showering down around their makeshift shelter.
"Kushina," Minato said, his voice taut with urgency as he knelt beside her amidst the chaos. He took her hand, his touch gentle despite the gravity of the moment. "The Nine-Tails is loose. We must seal it away—it's our only hope."Kushina's eyes widened, immediately understanding the implications.
"You don't mean—""We have no choice," Minato cut in, his blue eyes darting to their newborns
Kushina's violet eyes widened in horror, reflecting the gravity of the situation. Her face, already pale from exhaustion, seemed to drain of what little color remained. Her gaze drifted to their newborns lying nearby, swaddled in soft blankets that contrasted sharply with the devastation surrounding them.
"But, Minato, who will bear this burden? We can't ask another family to sacrifice their child!" Her voice cracked with emotion, her maternal instincts warring with her duty as a kunoichi of the Leaf.
Minato's gaze fell upon their three infants, sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the turmoil surrounding them. Their tiny chests rose and fell with each breath, their innocence a stark contrast to the destruction beyond. The smallest one, Naruto, had wisps of blond hair that reminded Minato of his own. Memma and Asami, with hints of Kushina's features, slept soundly beside their brother. His heart ached at the thought of the decision he was about to make.
"We won't ask anyone else," he declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "The Nine-Tails is too powerful for one child alone. We'll divide both the yin and yang of Kyubi's soul and its chakra between Mito and Memma."
The air between them grew heavy with the weight of his words. Another tremor shook the ground, punctuating the urgency of their situation. In the distance, the cries of villagers and the crash of falling buildings created a terrible symphony.
Kushina's face turned ashen, her lips trembling as she looked at her children. "Our children? Minato, they will be—"
"They'll be heroes," Minato interjected, grasping her hand with determination. His fingers tightened around hers, trying to convey strength that he wasn't entirely sure he possessed. The burden of leadership had never felt heavier than in this moment. "And they will have us to guide them. This is the only way to save the village."
He watched as Kushina's expression shifted from despair to resignation, then to the steely resolve he had always admired in her. Despite just having given birth to triplets, despite having the Nine-Tails forcibly extracted from her, the Red-Hot Habanero of Konoha still had fight left in her.
With a heavy heart and the resolve of a shinobi, Kushina nodded. "Then let's do what we must to protect our home," she said, her voice steadier now.
Together, they gathered their children and teleported to a secluded clearing away from the village's heart. The night air was cool against their skin, a stark contrast to the heat of destruction they'd left behind. Stars twinkled overhead, indifferent to the tragedy unfolding below.
Minato gently placed the three infants on the ritual altar, each one a symbol of hope and sacrifice. The stone was cold beneath the thin blankets, and he arranged protective seals around them with swift, practiced movements. His hands glowed with chakra as he worked, the blue light illuminating the determined set of his jaw.
Kushina, summoning her remaining strength, extended her chakra chains to restrain the colossal Nine-Tails, which snarled and thrashed against the bindings, its malevolence palpable in the night air. The golden chains erupted from her back, snaking through the air and wrapping around the massive beast. Its roars of fury made the trees bend away as if in fear.
"I can't... hold it... much longer," Kushina gasped, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth as she strained against the fox's immense power. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her entire body trembled with exertion. Despite her weakened state, her chains remained firm, a testament to her Uzumaki vitality.
As Minato began weaving the intricate sealing jutsu, his hands moved with a practiced urgency. The chakra around his fingertips glowed with an ethereal blue light as he prepared to enact the forbidden technique. The air crackled with energy, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he channeled power into the seal markers surrounding his children.
Suddenly, a familiar voice called out from behind him.
"Minato, stop!"
A shadow leaped from the treeline, moving with surprising agility despite its aged frame. Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Third Hokage who had once passed the mantle to Minato, appeared beside them. His aged face was etched with determination, his battle armor scorched from the Nine-Tails' initial onslaught. A deep gash ran along his right arm, yet he showed no sign of pain.
"You have a family to raise, a village to lead," Hiruzen said, placing a weathered hand on Minato's shoulder. His voice was firm but gentle, carrying the wisdom of decades. The moonlight caught in his eyes, revealing a depth of resolve that made Minato pause. "I'm an old man who has lived his life. Let me perform the Dead Demon Consuming Seal."
"Lord Third, I can't ask you to—"
"You're not asking. I'm deciding," Hiruzen interrupted, his kind eyes resolute. He glanced at the three infants, then at Kushina, who was visibly weakening as she maintained her chakra chains. "The village needs its Yellow Flash. Your children need their father. Kushina needs her husband." His voice softened. "Let this be my final service to Konoha."
Minato felt the weight of the Hokage's words settle into his chest. The logic was sound, but the cost... His gaze met Kushina's across the clearing. Her eyes, despite her exhaustion, conveyed a silent message of agreement with the Third's proposal.
Before Minato could protest further, Hiruzen stepped forward and began the forbidden sealing technique. His hands formed seals with the precision that had earned him the title of "The Professor," each movement deliberate and efficient despite his advanced age.
The spectral form of the Death God materialized behind him, its presence chilling to all who could perceive it. The temperature around them seemed to drop, and an unnatural silence fell over the clearing. Even the Nine-Tails' growls seemed muted in the presence of the death deity. The spectral figure loomed over them all, its white hair flowing as if underwater, its demonic mask revealing a hungry grin.
With unwavering resolve and practiced hands, the Third Hokage divided the Nine-Tails. Its malevolent chakra flowed into Asami and Memma like crimson rivers, but something went awry with the sealing process. The Nine-Tailed Fox's soul had split into two, each half following the path of its chakra into the bodies of the twins, silent and unnoticed. The fox's final roar was cut short as it was drawn into the tiny bodies, its massive form compressing into spiraling seals on their abdomens.
As the sealing concluded, Hiruzen collapsed to the ground, his life force extinguished by the Death God's bargain. Rain began to fall as if the heavens themselves wept for the loss of Konoha's beloved Third Hokage, the droplets mixing with the tears on Minato's face.
"Thank you, old friend," Minato whispered, kneeling beside the fallen leader's body. He gently closed Hiruzen's eyes, noting the peaceful expression that had settled on the man's face. "Your sacrifice won't be forgotten."
In the aftermath, three infants cried out, their futures irrevocably altered by this fateful night. Minato, exhausted and grief-stricken, gathered Asami and Memma in his arms. The seal marks glowed faintly on their small bodies, intricate patterns that spiraled outward from their navels—a permanent reminder of their burden and destiny. The rain fell harder now, soaking through his already tattered cloak.
"Kushina, we need to get back," he called, turning to his wife who had collapsed to her knees, her chakra chains dissipating. Her breathing was labored, her vibrant red hair plastered to her face by the rain.
"Yes," she agreed weakly, struggling to her feet. "The children will catch a cold."
In his haste and confusion, an unimaginable mistake occurred. Naruto, the firstborn, was left behind on the cold stone altar, alone and forgotten, while Minato teleported his siblings home. The blond child continued to cry, his tears mingling with the raindrops, unaware that he harbored not the Nine-Tails, but a dormant power from another world, waiting to be awakened. His small fists punched at the air, as if already fighting against the fate that had befallen him. Hours later, Anbu agents discovered the abandoned infant and returned him to the Hokage, their masked faces betraying no emotion as they reported finding the child. The leader of the squad, a tall figure in a cat mask, held the child with unexpected gentleness.
"Lord Hokage," the Anbu captain said, presenting the bundle to Minato. "We found your son at the sealing site."
Minato's face drained of color as he realized his terrible oversight. "Naruto," he whispered, taking the child with trembling hands. The baby had stopped crying, his blue eyes wide and curious despite his ordeal. "How could I have..."
Kushina rushed forward, taking the baby from Minato's arms and clutching him to her chest. "My baby," she sobbed, rocking him gently. "My poor baby."
The Anbu captain bowed and departed with his squad, leaving the family to their private moment of horror and relief.
"I left him there," Minato said, his voice hollow with disbelief. "I left our son alone in the rain."
Kushina didn't reply, too focused on warming the chilled infant in her arms. But her silence spoke volumes, and Minato felt the first crack form in what would become a widening gulf of guilt.
Three days after the Nine-Tails attack, the village of Konoha gathered beneath the Hokage Tower. The morning sun cast long shadows across the faces of villagers still mourning their losses, many homes reduced to rubble, many loved ones buried. Workers paused their reconstruction efforts, merchants closed their stalls, and citizens stood shoulder to shoulder in the crowded square, united in grief and determination.
Minato Namikaze stood atop the Hokage Tower, his white cloak billowing in the gentle breeze. The dark circles under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion, yet he maintained the composed demeanor expected of Konoha's leader. Beside him, Kushina held three small bundles wrapped in soft blankets—their newborn triplets.
Minato raised his hand, and the murmuring crowd fell silent.
"People of Konoha," his voice carried across the square, strong and clear despite his fatigue. "We have weathered a terrible storm. The Nine-Tails' attack has left scars on our village and in our hearts. We mourn the Third Hokage, who sacrificed himself to save us all."
The crowd bowed their heads in respect. Some wiped tears from their eyes, while others clutched their children closer.
"Today, I, Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage, am here to introduce you to our children: Menma, Asami, and Naruto." He gestured to each bundle as Kushina held them up for the village to see.
The smallest child, their firstborn, blond-haired Naruto, squirmed in his blanket while his siblings remained peacefully asleep. The sunlight caught his wispy hair, giving it an almost golden glow.
"During the sealing process," Minato continued, his voice dropping slightly, "The Nine-Tails was divided. Menma and Mito now contain the beast's chakra, while Naruto..." He paused, exchanging a glance with Kushina. "Naruto carries its soul."
A wave of gasps rippled through the crowd. Villagers exchanged fearful glances, and some pointed at the small blond child. Whispers spread like wildfire through the gathering.
"I request that you treat Menma and Mito as the heroes they are," Minato said firmly, his voice cutting through the growing murmurs. The early morning sunlight caught the golden emblem on his Hokage hat as he raised his chin with authority. "They will grow to harness this power for the protection of our village."
Wind rustled through the square, carrying whispers and uncertain glances as the villagers shifted uneasily. Some nodded in agreement, while others eyed the small bundles with a mixture of awe and caution.
"The plan is working as intended," Minato thought grimly as he observed the villagers dispersing from the square. Their faces revealed a mixture of fear, confusion, and simmering anger—emotions now directed precisely where he had calculated they would be. Some cast backward glances at the tower, their eyes lingering on the small bundle that contained his firstborn son, whose wispy blond hair peeked out from the blanket.
A cold knot formed in his stomach as he recognized the success of his deception. The whispers had already begun, spreading through the crowd like poison: "The fox's soul," they murmured, "in that blond child." Mothers pulled their children closer as they passed beneath the tower, some making subtle gestures to ward off evil.
An elderly woman near the front jabbed a finger upward. "That one will bring us nothing but trouble!" Her voice carried, encouraging others to nod in agreement. A shopkeeper spat on the ground.
Minato felt Kushina's hand tighten around his arm, her fingers digging into his sleeve. Her knuckles turned white, and he could feel the slight tremble in her grip. She had noticed it too—the immediate effect of their words. The weight of their decision pressed down on him, heavier than the Hokage's ceremonial robes draped across his shoulders.
"They believe it," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the shuffling feet and murmurs below. In her arms, Naruto stirred restlessly, his small face scrunching up as if sensing the villagers' changing perception of him. A tiny fist punched upward, breaking free from the blanket.
Minato placed a protective hand on his son's head, his thumb gently stroking the soft blond hair. "For now, it's necessary," he replied, though the words tasted bitter on his tongue. His eyes remained fixed on the dispersing crowd, noting which faces showed anger and which showed fear. "To protect all of them."
Kushina's gaze dropped to their firstborn. "But at what price?" Her voice carried a hint of anguish that only Minato could detect beneath her composed exterior.
As the square emptied, Minato caught sight of several council members nodding approvingly from the shadows. Danzo Shimura stood with arms folded, a satisfied expression on his half-hidden face. Homura and Koharu exchanged meaningful glances. They had supported this stratagem—create a scapegoat to redirect the people's fear and anger, while simultaneously elevating the other two children as potential weapons for the village. Politics and pragmatism, the language of leadership, he was still learning to speak fluently.
"The village will heal faster this way," Koharu had insisted during their meeting the previous night. "Give them something to fear, and something to hope for. Balance."
Looking down at Naruto's innocent face, Minato silently vowed, "I'll find a way to make this right someday." But even as he made this promise, a small voice in his mind wondered if some wrongs could never truly be undone. The burden he had placed on his firstborn's tiny shoulders might be too heavy for any amount of future love to lighten.
As if sensing his father's thoughts, Naruto's eyes fluttered open, startlingly blue and clear, looking up with an awareness that seemed impossible for a newborn. For a moment, Minato could have sworn they flashed with something—not anger, not fear, but something ancient and knowing.
Then the moment passed, and Naruto was just a baby again, wriggling in his mother's arms.
—Flashback to a day ago—
That evening, in the privacy of the Hokage's residence, Minato and Kushina sat across from each other at their kitchen table. Between them lay charts from the medical ninjas showing abnormally low chakra readings from Naruto, levels unprecedented for an Uzumaki child. The numbers and diagrams told a story that neither parent wanted to accept.
The paper crinkled under Minato's fingers as he shifted one report to look at another. The stark contrast between the three children's readings was unmistakable. Where Menma and Asami's charts displayed vibrant swirls of blue and red, indicating strong chakra networks, Naruto's showed only the barest wisp of energy, barely registering on the paper.
"The villagers are frightened," Kushina said softly, her gaze drifting toward the nursery where their three newborns slept. The soft glow of the nightlight cast gentle shadows across her worried face. Her hair, usually vibrant red, seemed dulled in the dim kitchen light. "They've lost so much—homes, loved ones. The wounds are still fresh."
Through the window, they could see crews still working by torchlight, clearing rubble from collapsed buildings. The occasional sob or shout drifted through the night air—grief finding its voice.
Minato ran a hand through his blond hair, exhaustion evident in the slump of his shoulders. His fingers steepled before him as he contemplated their impossible situation. The medical charts on the table showed Naruto's chakra readings—dismally low, especially for a child of Uzumaki lineage.
"They're looking for someone to blame," he said, voice barely above a whisper. He rubbed his temples, feeling the beginning of a headache. "If they knew Menma and Asami contained the fox's power..." He trailed off, unable to verbalize the potential consequences.
"They'd fear them," Kushina finished, her violet eyes meeting his. She absently twisted a strand of hair around her finger, a nervous habit from childhood. "Maybe even hate them. The Nine-Tails destroyed half the village. People aren't rational when they're grieving."
A clock ticked loudly in the otherwise silent room. Outside, the sounds of ongoing repairs echoed through the village—hammers striking wood, orders being called out as Konoha struggled to rebuild.
Kushina picked up one of Naruto's charts, squinting at the readings. "Could the medics be wrong? Maybe his chakra is just... developing differently."
Minato shook his head. "They checked three times. Tsunade herself verified it before she left the village."
"Our children deserve a chance at normal lives," Minato said, tracing the edge of a medical report with his finger. A coffee cup sat untouched at his elbow, long gone cold. "At least, as normal as possible given the circumstances."
Kushina nodded, her long red hair falling forward to curtain her face. "But at what cost?" Her whisper filled the kitchen.
A heavy silence filled the room as the implication of their decision hung in the air. With Naruto's mysteriously low chakra levels, he would likely never become the shinobi his siblings were destined to be. The numbers were clear—where Menma and Mito's charts showed vibrant, powerful energy signatures, Naruto's was barely a flicker.
"What kind of life will he have?" Kushina asked, her finger tracing over Naruto's name on the chart. "In a village of shinobi, with siblings who'll be trained as weapons..."
Minato stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the village he had sworn to protect. Moonlight illuminated the half-demolished buildings, the makeshift shelters. With the village needing heroes to believe in, a difficult choice presented itself.
"The lie will protect Menma, and Asami," Minato said finally, his voice tight with emotion. He turned back to face his wife, his blue eyes reflecting the weight of his decision. "The villagers will direct their fear and anger toward Naruto instead—toward the 'soul' of the beast."Kushina's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her hands clenching into fists on the table. The teacup before her trembled as her arms shook with suppressed emotion.
"And Naruto? What about our son? He'll grow up carrying a burden that was never his." A tear escaped, tracking down her cheek. "We survived our childhoods as outcasts, Minato. Are we really going to subject our son to the same fate—and by our own choice?"
Minato crossed the room and knelt beside her chair, taking her trembling hands in his. His touch was gentle, contrasting with the harshness of the decision they were making.
"We'll make it up to him somehow," he promised, squeezing her fingers. His thumbs traced circles on her skin, a comforting gesture from their dating days. "When he's older, when the village has healed... We'll tell him the truth. Until then, we'll love him twice as much to make up for it. We'll be there for him every step of the way."
"And if the villagers hate him?" Kushina asked, her voice breaking. "If children refuse to play with him? If teachers neglect him?"
"I'm the Hokage," Minato said firmly. "I'll protect him. We both will."
A baby's cry pierced the night—Naruto, as if sensing his parents' discussion about his fate. The sound started soft, then grew more insistent, a demanding wail that seemed to rebuke them from the other room.
Kushina's face crumpled slightly at the sound. "He knows," she whispered, almost to herself. "Somehow, he knows what we're planning."
"I should check on him," she whispered, rising from her chair.
Minato nodded, watching as she disappeared into the nursery. Alone in the kitchen, he gathered the medical reports, stacking them neatly before sealing them in a scroll marked "classified." This would be their first secret as a family, but he feared it wouldn't be their last.
As the scroll's seal dried, he could hear Kushina's soft lullaby drifting from the nursery, somehow both soothing and sorrowful. He closed his eyes, leaning against the counter, wondering if they were making an unforgivable mistake.
Flashback Ends
As they made this fateful decision, neither realized that what they saw as emptiness within Naruto—the void they mistook for weakness—was not an absence at all. It was a space poised to be filled with something entirely different, something beyond their understanding and not of their world. Something that slumbered within their firstborn son, waiting for the right moment to awaken.
~7 Years Later~
After the Nine-Tails attack, the village of Konohagakure slowly returned to normalcy. Seven-year-old Naruto Uzumaki Namikaze sat alone on a swing outside the Academy, his small hands gripping the worn ropes until they left marks on his palms. The evening sun cast long shadows across the playground, highlighting his isolation as he watched other children being collected by their parents. The sound of laughter and warm greetings surrounded him, making his solitude feel even more pronounced.
"Menma! Asami! How was your training today?" Naruto heard his father's voice from across the yard. The Fourth Hokage's bright yellow hair—so similar to Naruto's own—caught the fading sunlight as he greeted Naruto's siblings with open arms and a proud smile.
His younger brother and sister ran toward their father, their red hair, inherited from their mother, bouncing as they moved. They excitedly talked over each other about the new jutsu they were learning. Neither of them glanced in Naruto's direction. He might as well have been invisible.
"Dad showed me how to channel the Kyuubi's chakra today!" Menma boasted to a classmate as they walked past Naruto's swing. "He says I'm getting better at controlling it."
"Mom helped me with my chakra chains," Asami added, her voice sweet but filled with pride. "She says I'm a natural, just like her."
"Must be nice," Naruto whispered to himself, looking down at his palms. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't mold chakra like the other kids. The academy teachers had tried to help at first, but eventually, they just moved on, focusing on students with more "potential." His parents did the same, concentrating their efforts on his siblings, the special ones who held the divided power of the Nine-Tails.
An odd sensation stirred in Naruto's chest, a feeling that had been growing stronger lately—like something inside him was waking up. He pressed his hand against his sternum, feeling his heartbeat quicken.
Suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through his head. It felt like someone had driven a kunai right between his eyes. Naruto gasped, clutching at his temples as a flood of images invaded his mind. The world around him—the Academy yard, the nearby trees, the departing families—faded away as he was plunged into a memory that wasn't his own.
A ruined city stretched before him, its skyline broken and jagged like shattered teeth against a blood-red sky. Buildings crumbled, their steel frames exposed like the ribs of dying beasts. Smoke rose from countless fires, creating a thick haze that choked the air. The stench of burnt metal, concrete dust, and something worse—charred flesh—filled his nostrils. Distant screams echoed through empty streets littered with overturned vehicles and debris.
The devastation was unlike anything Naruto had ever seen in Konoha, even after the Nine-Tails attack. This was total annihilation, methodical and merciless.
Two figures hovered in the air—a young man with straight black hair that fell past his shoulders and an orange scarf wrapped around his neck, and a pale, beautiful woman with blonde hair cut in a bob and eyes as cold and blue as winter ice. Both wore casual clothes that seemed mockingly ordinary against the apocalyptic backdrop. Despite their human appearance, there was something wrong with them, an aura of menace that chilled the soul. They seemed to glow with an inner light, an unnatural energy that pulsed beneath their skin.
"Look at them run, 18," the man laughed, pointing at fleeing civilians below who stumbled over rubble and each other in their desperation to escape. "Like ants scattering when you kick their hill." His voice was filled with cruel amusement, a child enjoying the terror of insects beneath a magnifying glass.
"Boring, 17," the woman replied, her voice icy and detached. She raised her hand almost casually, examining her fingernails for a moment before aiming her palm downward. "Let's just wipe this place clean and move on. We've already played here enough." Her indifference was terrifying, as if human lives meant nothing more to her than pieces on a game board.
A ball of energy formed in her palm, pulsing with blue-white light, growing from a pinpoint to a sphere the size of a baseball in seconds. The air around it warped and crackled with power. With a flick of her delicate wrist, she sent it toward a crowded shelter where people had sought refuge. The brilliant light streaked downward like an avenging comet.
"No!" Naruto wanted to scream, but his voice wasn't his own in this vision.
The explosion that followed consumed everything in a blinding flash of white. The shelter disintegrated instantly, along with everyone inside. The ground shook violently, debris flying outward in a deadly wave. The screams of the innocent were cut short, replaced by an eerie silence broken only by the sound of falling concrete and twisted metal. The cries of terror echoed in Naruto's mind, amplified and overwhelming.
A woman clutching a small child had been running toward the shelter. Now she stood frozen, staring at the smoking crater where her last hope had been. Her face contorted with despair before she collapsed to her knees, still holding her whimpering child.
Naruto gasped, gripping the swing's ropes so tightly his knuckles turned white and the rough hemp bit into his palms. "What is this?" he whispered, his voice trembling. Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his temples as the vision continued, relentless and vivid. His heart pounded against his ribs like it wanted to escape.
"Stop this!" A voice—his voice, but not his voice, deeper and filled with rage—screamed in defiance. He felt his body moving, a sword in his hand, the metal catching the light of fires as he lunged toward the two destroyers. The weight of the blade felt familiar in his grip, perfectly balanced. Determination burned in his chest like nothing Naruto had ever experienced before, a righteous fury that demanded action. It was as if he had done this a thousand times, fought this battle in a relentless cycle of hope and despair.
"Oh look, it's the last little fighter," the one called 17 smirked, his expression mocking and cruel as he turned to face the attacker. "Vegeta's brat, right? I thought we taught you your lesson last time." His eyes gleamed with anticipation, a predator welcoming the challenge of prey that still fought back.
The name "Vegeta" triggered another flash in Naruto's mind—a proud man with flame-like hair, standing with arms crossed and a permanent scowl, somehow inspiring both fear and awe.
The memory self-attacked with everything he had—movements swift and precise, the sword an extension of his arm as it sliced through the air. Golden energy surrounded him, boosting his speed and strength, but it wasn't enough. A crushing blow from 17's fist sent him flying through three buildings, each impact jarring and brutal. Glass shattered, and concrete crumbled as his body carved a path of destruction. Pain exploded across his body as he struggled to stand, his limbs heavy and bruised, the taste of copper filling his mouth.
Naruto felt every impact as if it were happening to his own body. The phantom pain made him wince and clutch at his ribs, even as he sat on the swing in Konoha's peaceful academy yard.
"Why?" he asked, blood trickling from his lips and down his chin, his voice raw with anguish. He pushed himself up on one knee, using the sword as support. His purple hair was matted with dust and blood, but his eyes burned with unquenchable defiance. "Why do you keep doing this? There's nothing left to destroy! No one left to kill!"
"Because it's fun," 18 replied with a casual shrug, brushing a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Her smile was chilling in its simplicity, a slight curve of lips that never reached her eyes. "Isn't that reason enough?" Her words were devoid of empathy, a chilling testament to her cruelty. She raised her hand again, energy gathering at her fingertips like tiny stars being born.
"Fun?" The warrior—Trunks, Naruto somehow knew—spat blood onto the ground. "You've slaughtered billions for fun?" His voice broke with a mixture of disbelief and despair."Why else?" 17 landed beside his sister, casually kicking a piece of debris. "We have eternity to kill. Might as well enjoy it." He glanced at the woman with the child, who was still kneeling nearby, paralyzed by fear. "Speaking of which..." He pointed a finger toward them.
The vision shifted abruptly, the ruins fading into a dimly lit laboratory. Tools and electronic parts covered every surface, and in the center stood a massive machine, shaped like an egg with a glass dome on top. Naruto found himself looking at a purple-haired woman, her face lined with stress and determination, her hands moving with practiced urgency as she adjusted wiring inside an open panel. Dark smudges under her eyes spoke of sleepless nights.
"It has to work, Trunks," she said, not looking up from her tools, her voice filled with desperate hope. She tightened a bolt with more force than necessary. "The past is our only hope now. If you can warn them about the androids before they appear, maybe they can prepare. Maybe they can stop them before they're activated."
The laboratory was hidden underground, Naruto somehow knew. Above them, the world continued to burn. This was their last sanctuary, a place of both science and hope.
"I know, Mother," the voice—Trunks' voice—replied, filled with a mix of resolve and sorrow. A hand, scarred and calloused from years of combat, reached out to touch her shoulder gently. "But leaving you here alone..."
The woman set down her tools and turned to face her son. Her features softened, revealing the beauty that years of hardship had weathered but not erased. "I was there when your father died fighting them. I watched as Gohan sacrificed himself to protect you." Her voice caught on the name "Gohan," as if speaking it aloud still caused physical pain. "I've already buried everyone I love except you. I can't—" She stopped, composing herself. "I won't lose you, too. This is our only chance."
"I know, Mother," the voice—Trunks' voice—replied, filled with a mix of resolve and sorrow. A hand, scarred and calloused from years of combat, reached out to touch her shoulder gently. "But leaving you here alone..."
"I'll be fine," she insisted, though they both knew it was a lie. Her voice trembled slightly as she finally looked up, revealing intelligent eyes that had seen too much horror. "Someone has to stay and continue the fight, however hopeless it seems. Someone has to survive to tell the story."
"Time travel has never been done before," Trunks said softly, glancing at the machine. "What if I get lost between dimensions? What if I end up somewhere else entirely?"
"That's not going to happen," she answered firmly, the scientist in her speaking with confidence. "The calculations are precise. The coordinates are set." She hesitated, then added more softly, "And if something goes wrong... well, it can't be worse than staying here."
"Naruto? Naruto!"
The boy blinked rapidly, the vision dissolving like mist in sunlight. He looked up to see Iruka-sensei standing before him, concern etched on his scarred face. The teacher had crouched down to be at eye level, one hand hovering uncertainly near Naruto's shoulder. His eyes were searching, trying to understand what troubled his young student.
"Are you okay? You were shaking and muttering to yourself." Iruka's brow furrowed deeper as he studied the boy's pale face. Concern flickered in his eyes as he noticed the beads of sweat on Naruto's forehead. "Do you need to go to the hospital? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Naruto forced a smile, trying to process what he'd just experienced. His hands were trembling, and he clasped them together to hide it. The phantom pain from the vision still lingered in his chest where the android had struck. "I'm fine, Iruka-sensei. Just daydreaming." His voice was steady, but inside, he was anything but calm. The memories—for he somehow knew they were memories, not imagination—felt too real, too detailed to be dismissed. The smell of burning buildings, the metallic taste of blood, the weight of hopelessness—it all clung to him.
"Are you sure?" Iruka knelt closer, his voice softening. He placed a gentle hand on Naruto's shoulder, feeling the slight tremor running through the boy's body. "You looked like you were in pain. And you said some strange words... something about androids? And names I've never heard before—Vegeta and someone called Seventeen?"
Naruto's heart skipped a beat. Had he been speaking aloud during the vision? His stomach tightened with anxiety. The last thing he needed was more reasons for people to think he was strange. "It's nothing," he said quickly, looking away from Iruka's searching gaze. "Just a story I made up." He forced a laugh that sounded hollow even to his ears and scratched the back of his head in feigned embarrassment. "You know me, always imagining crazy stuff. Heroes fighting against impossible odds, that kind of thing."
Iruka didn't look convinced but nodded slowly. He studied Naruto for a moment longer, seeing beyond the fake smile to the troubled eyes beneath. "If you're sure. But remember, you can always talk to me if something's bothering you." He straightened up and glanced at the setting sun, casting long shadows across the playground. "It's getting late, you should head home before your parents worry."
"Worry about me?" Naruto couldn't stop the bitter words before they escaped his lips. His shoulders slumped slightly, and his smile fell away. "They probably haven't even noticed I'm gone. Too busy training Memma and Mito, I bet." The words tasted like ash in his mouth, the truth of them a familiar ache in his chest.
Iruka's expression softened with sympathy, his eyes reflecting an understanding that came from his lonely childhood. "Naruto... I know things are difficult at home, but your parents do care about you. They might just not show it in the ways you need."
"It's fine," Naruto jumped off the swing, the chains rattling behind him. He didn't want to hear whatever platitudes his teacher might offer—didn't need another adult telling him to be patient, to understand. The wooden seat swayed gently in his absence, a lonely pendulum in the fading light. "I'm used to it. See you tomorrow, Iruka-sensei!" He waved with forced cheerfulness before turning to leave, his steps quick as he sought to escape further questions.
As he walked home through the streets of Konoha, Naruto couldn't shake the lingering feelings from the vision—the rage, the helplessness, and underneath it all, a determination that burned like steel being forged. The evening breeze carried the scents of cooking meals from nearby homes, families gathering for dinner, but Naruto barely noticed. His mind was still half in that ruined city, with its smoke-filled skies and hopeless survivors.
He absently kicked a small stone, watching it skitter across the dusty road. "Who are you, Trunks?" he whispered to himself. "And why am I seeing your memories?"
He didn't understand why he was seeing these things or who this Trunks person was, but somehow, those memories felt as real as his own. The weight of the sword, the pain of combat, the desperation to save what little remained—all of it lingered in his muscles and bones like an echo. Even now, he could feel the phantom grip of a sword hilt in his right hand, though he'd never held such a weapon before.
A group of villagers passed by, giving him a wide berth and whispering among themselves. Naruto pretended not to notice, used to the treatment. Their aversion only deepened his connection to the purple-haired warrior from his vision—both of them fighting battles nobody else understood.
He paused at a small bridge overlooking one of Konoha's many streams, leaning against the railing to watch the water ripple below. The setting sun painted the surface with streaks of orange and gold. He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers in the dying light. For a moment, he thought he saw golden energy dancing between them, crackling with power that felt both foreign and familiar, but it vanished when he blinked.
"Was that real?" he whispered, clenching his fist. For a brief moment, he'd felt it—power, raw and potent, nothing like the chakra his parents had tried and failed to help him mold. It had felt like something else entirely, something that came from deep within, awakened by the memories that weren't his own.
With a deep breath, Naruto pushed away from the railing and continued toward the Namikaze compound, his steps a little steadier now. Whatever these visions meant, whatever this power was, he would figure it out. He had to.
After all, he'd just glimpsed a warrior who never gave up, even when the entire world had fallen. Maybe it was time he stopped giving up, too.
To be continued.