Chapter 2: Threads Between Worlds

disclaimer: I dont own naruto or highschool dxd, I only own the plot and any original charaters I might add

⸻

Kyoto – Yasaka's Private Quarters – Early Morning

The first light of dawn filtered gently through the paper-paneled windows, casting a soft amber glow across the quiet room. Outside, Kyoto still slept beneath the veil of Yasaka's protective barrier. The city was hushed—no chirping birds, no rustling leaves, not even the distant chants of shrine keepers. Only the slow breath of a mountain wrapped in stillness.

Inside, the world was even quieter.

Naruto lay still on the futon, propped up slightly by one arm, his gaze lowered toward the two sleeping figures curled against him.

Yasaka lay on his left, hair spilled across his shoulder like liquid sunlight, one arm tucked loosely around his waist, the other draped possessively across his chest. Her expression—so often proud and unreadable—was soft now. Peaceful. Vulnerable in a way only sleep allowed. Her golden tails lay curled over their feet like a warm blanket, flicking gently with each dream breath.

On his right, Kunou was a tangle of limbs and chaos. Her cheek was smooshed against his ribs, tiny hands clinging to his shirt like it might disappear if she let go. One of her feet had kicked the blanket halfway off the futon during the night. Her little 9 fox tails stuck up at an odd angls,twitching now and then in a rhythm only dreams understood.

Naruto watched them both in silence.

Watched the rise and fall of Kunou's small chest as she murmured something in her sleep—something about "star-sakura" and "bite traps" and "best big sister ever." Watched the slow flutter of her long lashes and the way her nine tiny tails drifted like flickering threads of starlight across his leg.

And for a moment…

He couldn't breathe.

She's real.

His daughter.

His.

He hadn't even known she existed when the universe tore him away. Hadn't known Yasaka was pregnant. Hadn't felt her tiny chakra for the first cries. Hadn't seen her stumble into toddlerhood, or laugh her way through tantrums.

Five years. Gone.

Stolen, not chosen.

And yet here she was—sleeping against him like she'd always known he was hers.

His hand hovered for a second, then slowly settled over her tiny back. Her chakra fluttered faintly at the touch, like a soft golden hum beneath her skin.

He closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "For all the years I missed."

But it wasn't just sorrow in his voice.

It was awe.

A reverent kind of joy that came with finally holding something he never thought he'd get back. A piece of himself. A connection he hadn't dared to imagine was still waiting on the other side of the veil.

And Yasaka…

He turned his head just slightly, his eyes tracing the curve of her brow, the fall of her hair across his shoulder, the way her body molded instinctively against his like it had never forgotten him.

She looked exhausted. Not from power or duty—but from waiting. From loving him through silence. From raising a daughter with nothing but memory and faith.

Gods, she was beautiful.

And stronger than she'd ever let the world see.

He kissed her forehead softly, careful not to wake her.

"…I'm here now," he murmured.

But even as the words passed his lips, a pang echoed through his chest.

Hinata.

Boruto.

His wife, his son—his other family. A world away, probably pacing, waiting for his message, for confirmation he was alive. That he made it through. That the gate didn't kill him.

He swallowed, guilt threading through the warmth in his chest.

I miss them too.

Hinata's quiet strength. The way she kissed him before missions like it was a prayer. The way she held Boruto with the same fierce devotion Yasaka held Kunou.

And Boruto…

His tiny fists. His tantrums. His endless energy. The way he'd grip Naruto's finger like he was holding on to the whole world.

Naruto exhaled, barely audible.

He hadn't come to replace one family with another.

He had come to reclaim the pieces of his heart scattered by fate. To hold them all. To do right by every person who had waited for him—across every world.

I love them all. I won't fail them. Not this time.

His gaze softened as Kunou mumbled again in her sleep and curled tighter against him, her tails wrapping around his side like little ropes of fire-lit silk.

"…You're going to love your little brother," he whispered. "He's loud and stubborn and already smarter than me—but you'll get along just fine. I can feel it."

He smiled faintly to himself.

Then froze as Yasaka stirred.

Her fingers twitched once against his chest. Her brows furrowed just slightly before smoothing again.

But she didn't wake.

Instead, she let out a slow, sleepy breath and pressed a little closer, her tails twitching once… then settling.

Naruto let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Then—very slowly—he leaned back against the wall, one hand resting on Yasaka's waist, the other on Kunou's shoulder.

And in that moment—surrounded by warmth, by lives he helped create, by futures he was still learning how to hold—Naruto Uzumaki allowed himself a moment of silence.

Not as the Hokage.

Not as a hero.

Not as the Otsutsuki slayer.

But as a father.

As a man with too much love and not enough time.

And in the peace of that golden morning—

He didn't need anything else.

⸻

Kyoto – Yasaka's Private Quarters – Twenty Minutes Later

Naruto slipped out from beneath the blanket like a man disarming a seal trap.

Kunou stirred once—whined faintly—and Naruto froze, a single bead of sweat forming. But she merely rolled over and resumed mumbling about "stealing the moon with fox ropes."

He exhaled slowly, shifting Yasaka's arm from his chest with gentle fingers, brushing a strand of golden hair from her cheek. She sighed softly in her sleep but didn't wake.

"…Still got it," Naruto whispered.

He padded silently across the wooden floor, barefoot and shirtless, grabbing the discarded tunic from the night before and throwing it over his head. The door slid shut behind him with barely a whisper.

⸻

Yasaka Shrine – Private Bathhouse

Naruto leaned against the warm stone wall of the yokai bathhouse, steam curling around his neck and shoulders. The water hissed down his back from a bamboo spout, washing away dried sweat and traces of yesterday's chaos.

He didn't rush.

Not this time.

He let the silence wrap around him and tried not to think about time slipping through his fingers. Again.

By the time he stepped out, hair still damp and towel around his neck, he felt marginally more human—and very, very hungry.

Which brought him to…

⸻

Kyoto – Yasaka's Kitchen – Slightly Later

"Alright, Naruto," he muttered to himself, standing before a regal spread of untouched cookware and ancient yokai culinary equipment. "You fought gods. You learned to cook from a perverted sage in the middle of a swamp. You can handle a fancy alien unfamiliar fox kitchen from another world ."

He grabbed a pan confidently.

And immediately smacked his elbow into a hanging ladle.

Clang.

"Right. Uh—ambush tactics. Gotta stay sharp."

He began rummaging through cabinets. Flour spilled from one. A ceramic rice steamer hissed at him when he touched it. One curious yokai charm rolled off a shelf and whispered "feed me" in a hauntingly offended voice.

Naruto ignored it and focused.

He'd already found some fresh rice, a basket of sweet root vegetables, a tray of eggs, and something that might have been foxfish. He wasn't entirely sure, but it smelled like it belonged in a skillet.

He tied on a ridiculously frilly apron someone had left on a hook—embroidered in crimson thread across the front: "Kiss the Chef."

He paused.

"…Bet that's yasaka's." He smiled at the image in his head of his lover wearing this while cooking little kunou dinner.

Then got to work.

He peeled, chopped, stirred, whisked—and only singed his eyebrow once trying to figure out the yokai stove's chakra ignition rune. The result wasn't perfect… but it smelled amazing. Sweet rice bubbling in one pot, miso broth steaming in another, a fluffy tamagoyaki browning neatly in the pan, and sliced grilled fish arranged in careful little fan shapes the way he remembered Yasaka liked it.

⸻

Back in Yasaka's Private Quarters –

Yasaka stirred to warmth.

At first, it felt like a dream.

She could feel the ghost of an embrace around her waist, the scent of something warm and grounding lingering in the bedding—earth, steam, and the faint charge of chakra that thrummed like a heartbeat.

But the weight beside her… was gone.

She blinked.

The room was quiet.

Too quiet.

Her hand reached out instinctively—searching for warmth, for muscle, for breath.

Only to grasp empty air.

The futon was cold.

Her heart plummeted.

No.

No, not again.

She sat up sharply, hair tangled around her shoulders, tails bristling in confused panic.

Naruto was gone.

The space he'd occupied—gone.

Like yesterday hadn't happened at all.

Her hands trembled slightly as they tightened around the blanket. She stared at the doorway, lips parting as if to call his name—then closing again.

Was it a dream?

Had the universe played one last cruel trick on her?

Had she imagined his warmth, his smile, his voice?

Her golden eyes shimmered.

A knot began to twist behind her ribs.

No.

No, she would not accept that.

Not again. Not now.

She rose on unsteady feet, nearly tripping over one of her own tails as she stumbled forward in last night's wrinkled robe. Her appearance was a mess—hair mussed from sleep, clothes twisted from tossing, not a shred of regal dignity left.

She didn't care.

She moved fast. Silently. A queen without ceremony.

Her bare feet padded across polished wood, eyes wide and wild, the air in her lungs too thin. Each step carried a growing pressure behind her eyes—grief, fury, disbelief curling like mist behind her teeth.

If he was gone again…

If he—

Then she stopped.

Sniffed.

And froze.

A smell.

Warm. Savory. Familiar.

She blinked.

Was that… fish?

Rice?

Tamago?

She spun.

The scent was coming from the inner corridor—the private kitchen.

She didn't hesitate.

She bolted.

⸻

Yasaka Shrine – Private Kitchen

She stopped in the doorway.

And forgot how to breathe.

There—standing in her kitchen in a too-small tunic and a ridiculous frilly apron that read "Kiss the Chef"—was Naruto Uzumaki.

Hair damp from a bath. Whistling softly.

A spatula in one hand.

Rice steam curling around him like incense smoke.

He turned slightly, squinting into the pan, brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully flipped a slice of egg over on its side.

He hadn't noticed her yet.

He was here.

Still here.

Not a dream.

Not a memory.

Real.

Yasaka's hands flew to her mouth as tears filled her eyes, unbidden and fast.

She choked on a sound that wasn't quite a sob.

And that was the moment Naruto turned.

"Yasa—whoa! Hey, hey, are you—are you crying?!"

He dropped the spatula.

In two steps, he was in front of her.

"Wait, did I mess up the rice?! Is something wrong?! Did someone say something?! Is this a trap? Are you cursed again?! Am I cursed again?! Wait, is it the apron?! You hate the apron, don't you—oh gods, I knew it, I look ridiculous—"

Yasaka burst out laughing.

Through her tears.

She laughed—loud, ugly, gasping laughter that made her shoulders shake and her knees weak.

Because it was him.

Naruto was still the same.

Still chaotic.

Still hopelessly worried.

Still hers.

She flung her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight, trembling embrace.

He caught her instantly, arms circling her waist without hesitation.

"Okay—okay, you're not mad. Or cursed. You're just—really emotional right now. Cool. Totally fine. I can handle that. Is it the onions? Wait, I didn't put in onions! Kunou hates onions! I remember you said—"

"Shut up," she whispered, voice cracking.

"Okay, shutting up."

She buried her face into his shoulder, breathing in his scent—soap and steam and something grounding and real.

And her heart finally began to slow.

When she pulled back slightly, her tears had slowed to a glistening sheen.

Naruto still looked bewildered.

"You okay?" he asked gently.

She nodded, brushing her fingers across his cheek.

"You made breakfast?"

He puffed out his chest proudly. "Of course. I remember how you like your fish sliced—fan pattern. Jiraiya made me cook for him every night while traveling. Guy ate like a spoiled daimyō with zero cleanup skills."

Yasaka wiped her eyes, smiling through the last flicker of tears. "And the apron?"

"Found it on a hook. Pretty sure it called to me."

She snorted.

And just like that, the world steadied again.

They stood there for a moment longer before Naruto gently guided her toward the counter.

"C'mon," he said. "You can help me finish the miso. I don't trust the broth. It keeps judging me."

"Smart broth," she muttered, taking the ladle.

They worked together, side by side. Falling back into rhythm.

And as the kitchen filled with steam and clinking dishes and quiet laughter, Naruto asked:

"Tell me about her. Everything. Her likes, dreams… all of it."

Yasaka glanced sideways.

He looked so serious. So soft.

She smiled.

"She wants to be a shrine priestess. But also a dragon-tamer. She swears she's going to build a shrine on top of a dragon and fly it across the stars."

Naruto laughed. "Definitely my kid."

"She's scared of the dark. She talks in her sleep. And she's been waiting for you… even before she knew your name."

He went quiet.

Then nodded. "I'm here now."

And that was the moment—

"Mrrrmh… smells good…"

They both turned.

Kunou stood in the doorway, half-asleep and thoroughly disheveled. Her tails were puffed like dandelions, her pajama top was backwards, and her little fists were rubbing at her eyes with a sleepy yawn.

She blinked.

Squinted.

Then saw them.

Saw her mama. Smiling.

Saw the kitchen full of warmth.

And saw—her papa.

Her eyes went wide.

"PAPA!"

She bolted.

Naruto dropped the ladle just in time to catch her as she leapt into his arms, wrapping around his chest like a tiny, sleepy missile.

"You're real!" she squeaked. "You're really real! You weren't in bed and I thought maybe you poofed again and I was gonna fight the universe!"

Naruto laughed, holding her close. "Sorry, Star-Tail. Just making breakfast."

Yasaka watched them.

Watched her daughter melt into Naruto's arms, clinging to him like she might disappear again if she blinked.

Watched Naruto smile—soft and fierce all at once—as he cradled their child like she was the most precious thing in all the worlds.

Her breath caught in her throat.

There it was again—that feeling she hadn't let herself believe in since the day he vanished.

Home.

Not a place. Not a city. Not a temple or title.

But this.

This kitchen. This chaos. This absurd man in a frilly apron and their daughter wrapped around his chest like a barnacle.

Warmth bloomed in her chest—quiet at first, then stronger. Like the rising sun slipping past stormclouds.

She remembered how heavy it had been. The weight of those years. The silence. The crushing responsibility of pretending she was whole when half her soul had been ripped away.

She'd ruled.

She'd raised their daughter.

She'd survived.

But not once—not even once—had she truly laughed like this. Felt like this. Been this… light.

Her fingers twitched around the ladle she'd forgotten she was holding.

Then she noticed something else.

The way Kunou had burst into the room in a panic.

The way she'd leapt at Naruto with the same urgency Yasaka herself had felt not twenty minutes ago.

The need to see him. To touch him. To make sure he was real.

Yasaka's cheeks flushed faintly.

They were the same.

She and her daughter.

Both foxes. Both stubborn. Both proud.

And both so helplessly, hopelessly tethered to the man standing barefoot in their kitchen, humming off-key as he returned to flipping eggs with Kunou still latched to his side.

She exhaled a slow breath and smiled, biting her lip to hide it.

Like mother, like daughter.

Yasaka reached out and gently smoothed Kunou's wild bed hair, her hand lingering for a moment on her daughter's crown.

Then her gaze drifted back to Naruto—his profile lit in gold by the morning sun, the stupid apron still half-crooked over his hip, that small focused crease between his brows as he gently tilted the pan.

And her smile softened.

She'd waited five long years to have this.

And she would burn down worlds before letting it slip through her fingers again.

"Papa," Kunou said, still hugging his side, "can I have extra egg?"

"Only if you help set the table, space princess."

Kunou grinned sleepily. "Deal."

And Yasaka—High Priestess of Kyoto, Queen of the Yokai, mother, lover, woman—leaned against the counter and whispered beneath her breath, just for herself:

"…Welcome home."

⸻

Kyoto – Yasaka's Private Dining Room – Shortly After

The breakfast table was a patchwork of steaming bowls and careful effort.

Naruto had managed to serve everything without burning anything else—though the rice cooker had nearly declared war halfway through, and the tamagoyaki came out shaped more like a fox tail than a proper roll. Kunou, still in her backwards pajama top and sporting hair that defied gravity, declared it "officially the best food in two universes."

"Papa," she mumbled through a mouthful of grilled fish, "you need to open a restaurant."

Naruto chuckled. "I'd call it Ramen Rebirth. Only open when I'm not being Hokage, or saving the world, or… accidentally time-jumping across dimensions."

"Can I be your manager?" Kunou asked instantly, eyes wide with mischief. "I'm very good at yelling and threatening people!"

Yasaka nearly choked on her miso.

Naruto grinned. "You get that from your mom."

Yasaka raised an elegant brow. "You were the one who nearly threatened a rice pot into submission this morning."

"Because it started it!"

Kunou giggled so hard she almost tipped over.

Their laughter mingled in the soft morning light, food warming bellies and hearts alike. The barrier outside shimmered faintly, protective but quiet now, like even the city itself was catching its breath.

Then—

"Papa," Kunou said suddenly, slurping the last of her rice. "What are you gonna do today?"

Naruto blinked. "Uh… eat more rice?"

She rolled her eyes. "Nooo, I mean, after breakfast. Can we go ride cloud dragons? Or climb the Sacred Bamboo Tower? Or fight the demon boars that live in the west forest? I've been very good about not doing any of those things unsupervised, so now we can do them with supervision!"

Yasaka gave Naruto a look over her teacup that was equal parts pride and pity.

Naruto paled. "That's your idea of being good?"

"Mm-hm!"

"Okay… wow."

He scratched his cheek nervously. "How about we start with something a little safer? Like a walk? Maybe some training?"

Kunou's tails twitched eagerly. "Oh! Oh! Can I practice that boom-shock quake thing you showed me last night?! I wanna split a mountain in half!"

Naruto's chopsticks paused midair.

"Let's… not start with mountain-splitting before your second meal of the day."

Yasaka snorted into her sleeve.

But then—

Kunou tilted her head. "So… after we train and fly dragons and scare off the demon boars and maybe find a time portal… when do I get to meet my baby brother?"

The room went still.

Naruto didn't flinch—but Yasaka froze.

Just for a moment.

Like a thread had pulled taut inside her.

She didn't speak. Didn't move.

But Naruto caught it—the slight stillness, the flicker in her golden eyes as the weight of reality returned.

Boruto.

Hinata.

The other life she hadn't been part of.

Naruto didn't let the silence linger.

He smiled gently, reaching over to ruffle Kunou's hair. "Soon," he said. "But not just yet."

"Why not?" she pouted.

"Because right now," he said, "Papa has to move the gate—remember that circle thingy with all the seals and light?"

Kunou nodded sagely. "The shiny puddle!"

"Exactly," Naruto laughed. "It's not safe where it is. So I'm gonna move it here—somewhere only you and Mama know about. Then I need to fix it up. Make it safe enough to bring your baby brother and Hinata here, or take you and Mama to meet them."

Kunou's ears perked. "Can we go through it?!"

"Eventually," he promised. "But I need to stabilize it first. So it doesn't go poof and fling us into the middle of the Underworld."

Yasaka raised a brow. "Again?"

Naruto grinned sheepishly. "Learning curve."

Then he reached down and summoned a small scroll, unfurling it on the side table.

"Speaking of which…" he muttered, biting his thumb and weaving a quick hand sign.

Poof.

A small toad with a flat cap blinked up at him from the table. "Whoa. You look rough. Long night?"

Naruto ignored him and hands him two scrolls. "Here these are reports for Hinata and Kakashi telling them I made it. I'm working on stabilizing the gate and I'll check back in once it's secure. Let Hinata know I'm safe—and that I miss them."

The toad gave a thumbs-up with a slimy little foot. "Sentimental, got it. Want me to add a haiku?"

"No."

"Too late!"

Poof.

As the toad vanished, Naruto turned back toward the table.

Yasaka had resumed eating—calm, poised—but her chopsticks were moving a bit slower than before.

He didn't press her.

Wouldn't—not in front of Kunou. And not when she was still finding her footing again, too.

But his gaze met hers.

And he held it.

No apology.

No shame.

Just truth.

I'm here.

For both of you.

Yasaka looked away first.

But she didn't look angry.

Just… tired.

And grateful.

Kunou, meanwhile, had already launched into a new idea about building a three-way shrine between worlds where she could hold court as "Fox Empress of the Interdimensional Bridge."

Naruto blinked. "You've already picked a title?"

"Duh," she said proudly. "I'm your daughter."

And somehow, that made it all feel simpler again.

For a little while longer.

⸻

The meal had ended with laughter, and the dishes had been cleaned with quiet teamwork and shared glances that said what words still couldn't.

But now…

Yasaka stood near the front chamber, golden sash tied snug across her waist again, her regal mantle of authority draped back across her shoulders like a weight she hadn't missed. Her hair was brushed and pinned, her posture composed—but there was a hesitation in the curve of her hand as she reached to straighten Kunou's collar.

"I'll be gone most of the day," she said softly. "Council summons. I've already put it off once."

Naruto stood beside them, dressed in his usual black and orange attire, adjusted slightly for local fashion but still unmistakably his. Kunou clung lightly to his hand, her tails swaying in impatient little arcs behind her as she pouted.

"Do you really have to go, Mama?"

"I do," Yasaka murmured, smoothing a wrinkle from Kunou's sleeve. "But you'll stay with Papa today. He'll take you to see the gate. And if he starts making you any giant glowing rainbow colored sakura trees again, tell him he's getting the lecture this time."

Naruto winced and starting to laught awkwardly while sweatdroping and scraching the back of his head his eyes trying their best to avoid his lovers jugmental deadpan stare

"Mm-hm."

She looked between them—her golden-eyed daughter and the man she had never stopped loving—and her heart clenched. There was warmth. There was pride. But also…

A lingering tightness.

The reminder that she wasn't the only woman in his heart anymore.

Still, she leaned down and kissed Kunou's forehead. "Be good."

Kunou beamed. "I'm always good!"

Yasaka raised an eyebrow. "You threw a thunder-sugar bomb at the gardeners last week."

"That was a blessing! Their flowers needed it!"

Naruto choked on a laugh and Yasaka gave up trying to scold either of them. She turned to him instead.

"She usually naps after lunch," she said. "If she gets cranky, distract her with honey peaches or sparring scrolls. She'll ask to climb something—say no. Unless it's the training post. Only the post."

"Got it," Naruto said, nodding. "Scrolls, peaches, no unauthorized acrobatics."

Yasaka hesitated.

Then lowered her voice.

"She'll test you," she said quietly. "She's never had… this. A father. She doesn't know how not to test it."

Naruto's expression softened. "She can test me all she wants. I'm not going anywhere."

Yasaka's throat tightened—but she nodded once. Then she turned, her eyes lingering on Kunou a moment longer… before she walked away, golden tails sweeping behind her like banners of fire and memory.

The door slid shut.

Naruto and Kunou were alone.

Again.

⸻

Kyoto – Southern Quarter – Midday

They walked hand-in-hand beneath gently drifting leaves, the quiet paths of Kyoto dappled in sunlight and shade. The air was crisp but not cold, the breeze brushing softly past paper lanterns that lined the walls of the district's outer ring.

Naruto listened with half his attention as Kunou rattled off a wild list of things she wanted to do.

"First, we go check on the shiny puddle-portal-thing. Then I want to try your chakra boom move again the one that split the sky yesterday. Then can we go to the koi pond and convince the fish to revolt against the swan overlords? I think they're planning something. And THEN—"

"Wait, wait, what?"

"Also, I wanna show you the rooftop shrine I built on accident! I made it for the moon! And I left offerings of dumplings and anti-squirrel charms! I think it's working—the squirrels haven't raided our pantry in a week!"

Naruto blinked slowly. "You… accidentally built a shrine to the moon?"

"I had extra wood and a strong sense of cosmic purpose!"

"…Okay then."

He didn't stop smiling once.

She looked up at him so often—beaming, tugging on his sleeve, asking endless questions—that he barely noticed the glances from others at first.

But they came.

More and more of them.

Yokai of all kinds paused in their daily errands. Market vendors, shrine acolytes, old noppera-bō gossipers lounging under teahouse eaves.

Their princess—Kunou-sama—was walking through the city hand-in-hand with a man they had never seen before.

A tall, golden-haired human.

With a face… too similar.

With whisker marks that mirrored Kunou's own.

And chakra.

Not the diluted shimmer of divine-imbued ki they were used to sensing among the yokai. But something else. Something heavy. Dense. Rich and alive. Like stone and wind and blood all woven together. A pressure that hummed against their senses even as it was tightly controlled.

Not divine.

Not yokai.

But close.

And so similar to the child.

Similar enough that the older sensors among them began to murmur.

"…They match."

"His chakra—it sings like hers."

"Yasaka-sama usually has the royal guards watching ober kunou-sama at all times, I have never seen this man before."

"Is that the man from the rainbow tree incident?"

"Could he be… her father?"

"No way. He doesn't even have a tail."

"Maybe he's half-yokai. His whiskers are real."

"Half-breed, with chakra like that? It Doesn't feel artificial. Feels… pure."

"Then what is he?"

They watched him pass, Kunou chattering endlessly about swan conspiracies and shrine etiquette.

And the whispers grew.

Behind paper fans. Behind curtains. Between breaths.

Not malicious. Not cruel.

But curious.

Wondering.

Worried.

Hopeful.

And as Naruto kept walking, he caught only pieces of it through sharpened instinct—but didn't stop. Didn't react. Didn't make it awkward for Kunou.

He just nodded along as she explained the differences between sun peaches and moon peaches and how both should be protected by tiny chakra-foxes she was currently designing.

"…So I was thinking I could build the first moon-peach sanctuary on top of a flying tortoise and—Papa, are you listening?"

Naruto grinned. "Every word, Empress of the Tortoise Sky Temple."

Kunou grinned, completely unaware of the dozens of yokai eyes quietly watching her walk through Kyoto with her papa—for the very first time.

And for those who saw…

They could no longer unsee it.

The rainbow-blossoming tree.

The girl's unleashed power.

The man who had come from nowhere, smiling down at her like she held the stars.

They didn't have proof.

But they had suspicion.

And in Kyoto, suspicion spread faster than fire on the mountain wind.

⸻

Kyoto – Forest Trail Near the Dimensional Gate

Kunou skipped ahead, arms outstretched like wings. The trail curved gently beneath rustling trees, leading deeper into the perimeter forest that bordered the leyline chamber—hidden from public view and warded with yokai seals.

Naruto walked behind her, keeping a respectful distance but always within reach. His eyes weren't on the trees.

They were on her.

"Papa!" she called, spinning on one foot. "How far is the magic puddle-gate thingy?"

"About five minutes," he called back. "But it's not a puddle."

"Looks like a puddle."

"It's a dimensional threshold carved with precision chakra anchors layered across interspatial seals—"

"Puddle."

Naruto sighed. "Fine. It's a puddle."

Kunou grinned in triumph. "Can I swim in it?"

"What? No! It'll destabilize the chakra lattice!"

She pouted dramatically. "Then what's the point of a magical puddle if I can't even cannonball into it?"

Naruto scrubbed a hand down his face. "You're gonna give me gray hair."

Kunou gasped. "Like Grandpa?! Cool!"

He groaned.

But he couldn't stop smiling.

They passed under a pair of half-dormant fox totems that shimmered faintly with yokai protection glyphs, and the forest quieted.

Then—

"Papa?"

Naruto blinked. "Yeah?"

Kunou slowed her pace.

"Can I meet my baby brother soon?"

Naruto nearly tripped over a root.

The question hit him square in the chest—pure, innocent, hopeful.

He glanced down at Kunou's bright eyes, her expression eager.

"Not yet," he said gently. "The gate still needs work. Right now, it's too unstable. I need to move it here, to the mansion grounds, where it's safer."

She nodded solemnly. "Okay. And after that?"

He smiled. "Then I'll bring them here. Or we'll go visit them. Either way, you'll meet him. His name is Boruto."

Kunou looked thoughtful. "Boruto and Kunou…"

She brightened. "We sound like a ninja team!"

Naruto laughed, he hasnt yet told kunou konoha or the sginobi culture of his world.

"sweetie you have no idea just how right you are"

⸻

Kyoto – High Pavilion Council Archives

Yasaka leaned over a lacquered desk, quill scratching through scrollwork as her tails flicked behind her with increasing annoyance.

Stacks of overdue policy drafts, territorial appeal records, and damage reports from "yesterday's minor spiritual anomaly" crowded every inch of the desk. The rainbow sakura tree had already earned its own investigation scroll.

Then—

BAM.

The door slammed open.

Councilor Jirou stormed in, looking like a man robbed of sleep, patience, and probably dignity.

"We want a meeting," he announced flatly.

Yasaka didn't look up. "Send a request."

"This is the request."

She sighed and finally lifted her gaze. "Of course it is."

Jirou planted both hands on the desk.

"Lady Yasaka, with all due respect—"

"There it is," she muttered.

"—the council would like to officially request an introduction. A formal one. With him."

"Define 'him.'"

Jirou's eye twitched. "The human."

Yasaka tapped her pen gently against the rim of her inkwell. "You'll need to be more specific. I've met quite a few humans. Some are very nice."

"The one who fathered your child," Jirou deadpanned.

"Still not narrowing it down," she said sweetly.

"YASAKA."

Jirou barked , slapping one palm against the desk hard enough to rattle a pile of sealed scrolls. "The man who warped Kyoto's spiritual topography, bent reality to grow an impossible tree, flooded the southern district with chakra resonance, and is now casually strolling around with your daughter as if he didn't just make every yokai seer in the city start crying blood."

Yasaka blinked slowly.

Then dipped her brush in ink.

"I see."

"No, you don't!" Jirou hissed, clearly resisting the urge to pull his own tails out. "Do you even understand the state the council is in? Mizuchi threatened to self-seal his own clan into hibernation until the bloodlines could be 'rebalanced!' The Southern Shrine has suspended divinations because the rainbow tree is interfering with their celestial projections! We had to sedate three archivists after they accidentally read the tree's aura and started writing poetry in Sanskrit!"

Yasaka calmly flipped a page. "So you've all lost your minds. That much is clear."

"Yasaka, for the love of the gods—he's not just some mysterious lover anymore. He's real. He's here. And the people saw him. The citizens are talking, and we can't control it anymore. You need to officially introduce him before this turns into a full political crisis."

Yasaka paused.

Then slowly set her brush down, folding her hands neatly atop the parchment.

Her expression did not change.

But her aura deepened—just slightly. The temperature in the room dropped by two degrees.

"And what, exactly," she asked, "do you intend to do if I say no?"

Jirou's mouth opened.

Then closed.

Because there was no good answer to that.

Yasaka's eyes glowed faintly as she tilted her head.

"Let me be very clear, Jirou. I will grant your request. Not because I owe you or the council anything. But because he deserves more than secrecy now. He is not your threat. He is my family."

Jirou swallowed hard.

She rose, tails flaring behind her like a cloak of fire. "You will prepare a private audience chamber. You will not bring recorders. You will not bring half your extended kin or curious scribes. You will be respectful."

"Yes, Lady Yasaka," Jirou said immediately, bowing.

"And you will remember this," she added quietly, her voice low and sharp as polished steel. "The only reason you're still standing is because he chose not to notice you yesterday."

Jirou looked up slowly, meeting her eyes.

He nodded once.

And left without another word.

⸻

Hi no Kuni – Uzumaki Residence – Late Morning

The sound of soft humming drifted through the quiet of the Uzumaki household—tuneless and low, barely more than a breath. Hinata stood barefoot by the window, the late-morning sunlight catching in her hair like a halo as she gently rocked Boruto against her chest.

He was dozing now, clutching the hem of her blouse in his tiny fists, his chubby cheek pressed against her collarbone, warm and peaceful in sleep. His soft breathing matched the slow rhythm of her heart. The room was still, wrapped in domestic quiet, the kind of peace Hinata had once only dreamed of.

She reached over with one hand and adjusted the edge of the blanket around him—just as a sudden pulse of chakra shimmered to life on the porch.

Poof.

A small, familiar toad blinked into existence atop the welcome mat, holding a sealed scroll in its front limbs. The air still buzzed faintly with residual energy.

"Special delivery," it croaked with exaggerated importance. "Straight from the fox dimension."

Hinata turned slowly, eyes widening.

"…Naruto?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

The toad held the scroll aloft. "Two messages—one for you, one for the hat brigade." He paused. "Also, your baby is adorable. Can I pat his head?"

Hinata was already moving. She took the scroll delicately, clutching Boruto tighter with one arm as she stepped back inside and sank onto the cushion near the window. Her fingers trembled slightly as she broke the seal, unfolding the thick parchment.

Naruto's handwriting.

Bold, looping, a little messy in the corners. Unmistakably his.

Her breath caught.

Hinata,

I made it. I'm safe. The gate held, and I didn't get vaporized or flung into a void (again). I'm still stabilizing the anchor, but it's functional. Once I move it to safer ground here, I'll be able to reopen both ends.

I miss you. I miss Boruto.

Please tell him Papa's okay. I didn't forget him. I'll be back soon.

And… Hinata—

There's something else.

Her name is Kunou.

She's five.

My daughter.

I didn't know, Hinata. None of us did. Yasaka didn't even get the chance to tell me before I was pulled back.

She's everything you'd expect from my child. She talks too has my eyes, my wiskers, my temper. my she has Yasaka's strength. Her fire. Her heart.. She's loud. Proud. She calls me Papa like she's always known I was hers.

She has my chakra. And fox ears. And nine tails.

And Hinata—

She's beautiful.

And I love her.

I know this isn't easy. I know this letter isn't enough. You've been so strong, so kind, so brave just to let me chase this piece of my past in the first place.

But please understand—nothing I've found here makes what I have with you any less real.

You are my wife.

Boruto is my son.

And I love you.

But I can't ignore this. I won't walk away from the daughter I never got to meet.

I'll be back as soon as I stabilize the gate. I'll send a proper update again tonight—once I scout the anchor zone and finish the suppressor seals.

Tell Boruto I'm safe. And tell him he's going to meet someone amazing soon.

She's his big sister.

With love,

Naruto

P.S. Don't let him eat glue again. Yes, I know he tries when no one's looking.

Hinata sat frozen.

The scroll trembled slightly in her hands.

She read it again.

And again.

Each word a thread pulled tight in her chest.

Her eyes shimmered. Not with anger. Not quite sorrow. Just… a weight. One she hadn't realized she'd been bracing for until now.

She had known.

From the very beginning.

Naruto had been honest—brutally so. About Yasaka. About his time in that other world. About how he'd never stopped loving her. How he couldn't, wouldn't, let her go.

Hinata had chosen him anyway.

Knowing this day might come.

But now…

Now Yasaka wasn't just a name. Wasn't just a shadow from Naruto's past.

She was the mother of his first child.

His eldest.

Their daughter.

A little girl—half kitsune, nine tails, her chakra humming with his.

His heir.

Hinata closed her eyes and pressed the scroll against her heart.

Boruto stirred in her arms, making a soft grumble of protest at the motion. She hushed him gently, rocking him with renewed tenderness.

She didn't hate Yasaka.

How could she?

Not when the woman had held Naruto's memory for five years, had carried and raised his daughter alone in a foreign world—waiting for a miracle that no one had promised.

And now…

Now Hinata would have to face that miracle.

She brushed her cheek against Boruto's hair, breathing in the soft baby scent that clung to him.

"Papa's okay," she whispered. "He's okay. And he is coming back soon."

Boruto giggled .

Hinata smiled through the ache. Through the joy. Through everything.

She glanced at the scroll again and noticed a second part to the letter this part was adressed to boruto:

Hey bud,

Papa made it!

I'm okay. I'll be back soon, but I have to fix some seals first. It's like a big puzzle made of chakra spaghetti. You'd hate it.

Be good for Mama. Eat your vegetables. Don't climb on top of the bookshelf again—I will know.

Oh, and… you've got a big sister.

Her name's Kunou. She's kinda loud. She might talk more than you. She has fluffy tails and wants to be a dragon-riding shrine queen.

You're gonna love her.

We'll all meet soon. I promise.

—Papa

P.S. Save me some dango.

Hinata let out a breathless, half-laugh as she finished reading the second note—the one clearly meant for Boruto, though he couldn't even pronounce half the words yet.

Her eyes shimmered again, but this time with something closer to a smile.

She could practically hear Naruto's voice in every word. Warm. Silly. Overflowing with heart. Trying so hard to say everything at once and still forgetting to breathe.

Boruto, still curled against her shoulder, shifted with a tiny noise—almost like a protest at being left out of the joke.

She smiled and pressed a kiss to his soft hair. "Your papa's ridiculous," she murmured fondly. "But he loves you more than anything."

Another happy burble came from Boruto, and he flailed one hand lazily against her chest, as if making sure she was still there.

Hinata reached over, retrieved a small storage scroll from the nearby shelf, and gently rolled Naruto's letters into it. She tucked it away into the lacquered case labeled Personal—a section already filled with old notes, mission reports, and keepsakes she'd never had the heart to throw away.

Then she sat back again.

Held her son.

And let the moment wash over her.

There was no resentment. Not really.

Just the ache of loving someone who loved more than one person—and who had enough heart to make it real for all of them.

She looked down at Boruto.

His tiny hand was now clenched around the edge of her sleeve again. His nose twitched once in sleep.

"You've got a big sister now," she whispered, brushing a thumb across his cheek. "With fox tails and loud ideas and your papa's stubbornness."

She smiled faintly.

"You're going to drive me crazy, the both of you."

Boruto gave a sleepy giggle and kicked once in his sleep, as if in agreement.

Hinata rested her head against the wall, sunlight pooling around her.

She didn't know what the future would look like—not exactly.

But she had this.

Her son.

Her husband's love.

And that was enough.

For now.

⸻

Konohagakure – Hokage Tower –

Shikamaru stared at the fourth stack of budget revisions and groaned.

Kakashi leaned back in Naruto's chair like he planned to die in it.

"…I am never forgiving him for this," Kakashi muttered, glaring at the mountain of paperwork like it had insulted his book collection.

Shikamaru stood nearby, arms crossed, eyes equally dead.

"This is exactly why I told him not to go until he'd drafted a delegation tree."

Kakashi gestured at the topmost scroll. "He left us handwritten marginalia with arrows that say 'fix this' and 'Shikamaru will know what this means.' What kind of Hokage does that?!"

"One with a love life," Shikamaru muttered darkly.

Then—poof.

A toad appeared.

Kakashi blinked. "Oh no."

Shikamaru sighed. "What now?"

The toad produced a scroll, handed it to Kakashi, then vanished without ceremony.

The ex-Hokage unrolled it. His visible eye scanned the text.

Then widened.

"…He made it," Kakashi said.

Shikamaru straightened. "He's alive?"

"Alive. Stabilizing the gate. No injuries. Minor damage to Kyoto. Repaired." Kakashi paused. "Also… he apparently has a daughter."

Shikamaru blinked.

Kakashi flipped the scroll so he could see the end.

"Five years old," he read aloud. "Half-kitsune. Nine tails. Chakra signature comparable to a mid-tier bijuu. Looks like Naruto. Follows him around calling him 'Papa.'"

There was a long silence.

Then Shikamaru turned to the wall and calmly rested his forehead against it.

"…I need a nap."

"A five-year-old daughter," Kakashi emphasized, rubbing his temple. "Do you know what that means?"

"That he was busy while dimensionally stranded?"

"That he just dumped a full kage workload on us to go play house with a fox queen and their chaos-child, yes."

Shikamaru sighed. "It's Naruto. Why are we even surprised anymore?"

One of the ANBU guards twitched.

Kakashi threw a pen at the window. "I retired. Retired! I was reading. I was gardening. I was happy."

"And yet, here we are. Babysitting Naruto's political disasters while he cooks breakfast in another dimension."

Pause.

They both groaned.

And then—

Laughed.

Because of course this was their life now.

Of course Naruto would break time-space, father a fox princess, and still be too wholesome for anyone to stay mad at.

Kakashi exhaled. "At least he's alive."

"Yeah," Shikamaru muttered. "And apparently now we have to figure out how to handle interdimensional diplomacy with a rainbow tree as step one."

"…You wanna fake our deaths?"

"Tempting."

The ANBU guards outside the door sweatdropped hard.

One of them whispered, "Do we… do we file that as a serious request or…?"

Outside, the Hokage monument loomed.

Inside, the village's last two sane adults stared at Naruto's handwriting and groaned in unison.

And so began another day in the Land of Who Needs Logic When You're Naruto Uzumaki.

⸻

Kyoto – Leyline Forest Perimeter – Midday

The tree canopy thinned as Naruto and Kunou approached the hidden clearing—just beyond the fox totem wards, through a narrow trail laced with ancient yokai sigils and carved stone posts humming faintly with mountain ki.

The ground was uneven here. Still raw from yesterday's events, Naruto's forceful breach of the dimensional veil. Roots bulged from the earth like veins. Moss clung to half-toppled shrines and stone markers marking the spiritual boundary line.

Kunou slowed, her ears twitching. "…This is where it happened, isn't it?"

Naruto nodded, his expression turning quiet as he stepped into the open space.

The clearing ahead was still scarred—grass torn, air faintly scorched, the soil pulsing with the memory of alien chakra. At its center, a perfect circle had been etched into the earth. No tool had carved it. No beast had trampled it. It was burned into reality itself—clean, impossibly smooth, and thrumming with layered sealwork that glowed in soft tones of silver and blue.

The dimensional gate.

Kunou stared at it.

And blinked.

"…Papa… the symbols are… moving."

"They're alive," Naruto said quietly, walking toward the center. "Not just etched—they're thinking."

Kunou blinked harder. "What?! But seals don't think! Mama's barrier runes just kind of… sit there and glow until something goes boom!"

Naruto chuckled. "That's because your mom uses spirit-forged runes based on divine flow. Elegant, powerful—but rooted in this world's logic."

He crouched by the edge of the circle and brushed his hand across the inner ring. The seals shifted subtly under his touch, spiraling inward like calligraphy woven into motion.

"My fuinjutsu," he continued, "doesn't follow this world's rules. It doesn't just contain chakra—it rewrites its meaning."

Kunou tilted her head like a puzzled puppy. "…You mean like… storytelling?"

Naruto's smile widened.

"Exactly. But instead of telling a bedtime story to a person, I'm telling a story to the universe. One so convincing, so perfectly structured, that the universe believes it's true."

He stood and tapped his chest lightly.

"This seal doesn't just make a doorway between dimensions. It lies to the laws of reality."

Kunou's jaw dropped. "You're teaching the universe to lie?!"

"Only a little," he said with mock innocence. "Just enough to let people like me stay here without getting ripped apart."

Kunou's brow scrunched. She walked up to the edge of the glowing seal and crouched, tails fanned behind her like a curious sunburst. "But… why would the universe kick you out in the first place? It's not a person. How does that even work?"

Naruto's expression darkened slightly—but only slightly.

"It's like this," he said. "Every world has a rhythm. An energy hum that's unique to its creation. The trees, the sky, the people—everything resonates with that hum. But when someone like me—someone from another dimension—enters without protection, the universe notices."

He reached out and traced a slow spiral in the dirt beside her.

"And if that person's chakra or whatever energy signature they have doesn't match… the world treats them like a disease. A virus. It tries to purge them. Slowly at first. Then violently."

Kunou's eyes widened.

"That's what happened to you?"

"Yeah," Naruto said quietly. "8 years ago, a strong enemy I defeated(an Otsutsuki) tried to drag me into a void with him. I landed here instead. But my presence? It didn't belong. My chakra was too loud. Too foreign. The world started pushing back."

He clenched his fist slightly.

"It started small—chakra fatigue, leyline sickness. But by the third year, I couldn't stay in one place for more than a week without space itself warping around me. The mountain winds would scream. Shrines cracked. And eventually…"

He looked at her.

"After 3 years I was ejected. Forcefully. Ripped right out of this world."

Kunou's voice dropped to a whisper. "But you didn't want to go."

"No," he said. "I was yanked out before Yasaka could even tell me about you."

Silence.

Kunou didn't speak.

Just quietly placed her hand on his.

The seal beneath them hummed gently in response—sensing the connection, the chakra match between father and daughter.

Naruto's voice softened. "That's why I built this. The Heaven's Thread Anchor. A dimensional gate built with chakra seals that don't just force a portal open—but convince reality that the person walking through belongs."

He stepped into the circle.

The seals shifted again—new patterns rippling across the surface like script on liquid glass. Spirals bloomed like flowers, each one anchoring a layer of chakra logic.

Layer One – Dimensional Camouflage: A cloak woven from Yin-Yang Release, rewriting Naruto's chakra signature into a form indistinguishable from Kyoto's native spiritual frequencies.

Layer Two – Anchor Tethers: Fused Uzumaki spiral seals tied into both Konoha and Kyoto leylines, built with chakra samples from each world and Naruto's own blood. A bridge that resonates with both realms.

Layer Three – Time-Stabilization Fields: Chakra pacers coded with Sage energy that pulse in sync with planetary motion. No time dilation. No entropy build-up.

"I don't force the door anymore," Naruto said, voice quiet. "I ask for it. In the language chakra was born to speak."

Kunou stared at the glowing field, then at her father.

"…Can I learn it?"

Naruto turned to her, eyes wide.

Kunou's expression was fierce now. Serious.

"I want to learn the spiral language," she said. "The one that speaks to the universe.I want to talk to the world too."

Naruto's smile turned proud—soft and infinite.

"You will," he said. "I'll teach you everything. Because this… this isn't just mine anymore."

He touched her forehead gently.

"It's ours."

And as the seal pulsed beneath their feet—alive, shimmering, whispering to the world that he belonged—Kunou grinned, her nine tails twitching behind her like sunrise fire.

"…Okay," she whispered. "Teach me the lie that makes it true."

Naruto laughed softly.

Then began.

⸻

Kyoto – Shrine Compound – Inner Hallway

Twenty minutes later, Naruto stepped out of the secured seal chamber, hands dusted with dry chalk ink and lips pursed in focused thought.

The gate was now moved. Hidden.

Safely embedded deep beneath Yasaka's shrine compound in a private sanctum layered with reinforced chakra dampeners and sub-realm dimensional folds—a sanctified zone now bound in rings of evolving Uzumaki fuinjutsu. It would take a god, a Sage, or another Uzumaki with identical blood to even know it existed.

Kunou had fallen asleep right after lunch—full belly, wild storytelling finished, curled up with a soft yawn mid-sentence. Naruto had tucked her into bed with one of Yasaka's oversized robes draped across her, whispering a promise to be nearby. Three shadow clones now perched invisibly in the corners of her room like dormant predators—cloaked in sensory shadow seals so tight, even the fox shrine's spiritual alarms wouldn't register them.

Naruto rolled his shoulders once.

"Alright," he muttered, cracking his knuckles. "Time to start laying suppressor rings around the leyline matrix…"

And that was when he heard it.

The increasingly agitated scuff of clawed feet approaching from the eastern stairwell. A sharp muttering. The squeak of frustration. The occasional curse.

A servant.

Naruto turned—curious.

But before the tanuki yokai entered the hall…

⸻

Flashback – Kyoto – Council Audience Hall – One Hour Earlier

Yasaka stepped into the grand chamber like a golden storm wrapped in silk and authority.

Twelve elders sat in a curved crescent along the elevated platform, all cloaked in layers of ceremonial garb. Some bore horns, others tails or glowing eyes—each ancient, each weathered by centuries of faction politics. But none, not a single one of them, missed the way Yasaka's presence parted the air like a blade. She didn't walk. She arrived.

"I see you all decided to gather in person," she said coolly, tails swaying like banners of fire behind her. "A rare show of enthusiasm."

Councilor Jirou bowed stiffly. "We are… prepared."

"For civility," Yasaka replied, her eyes half-lidded with warning. "Not for interrogation."

There was a long pause.

Then she gestured to a waiting attendant. "Summon him."

The attendant—an older tanuki yokai in a formal robe—bowed deeply and exited the chamber without a word.

Yasaka didn't watch him go.

She didn't need to.

She already knew what kind of storm he was about to walk into.

⸻

Back to the present

Tanuki Steward Hikotsu, Senior Sensor-Class Yokai and long-time handler of council logistics, stormed down the garden path with the kind of simmering indignation that only a bureaucrat denied breakfast could achieve.

"A human," he muttered darkly. "A human. The queen bore a child with a human."

He snorted, pushing aside a vine with more force than necessary.

"A bipedal, dirty-stinking mortal with no tails, no lineage, and no divine court backing. And now I—Hikotsu of the Scrying Clans, First in Range at the Wukong Audience, Certified Seer of the High Pavilion—I have to fetch this… outsider."

He stepped over a courtyard pond with righteous disdain. "Probably still smells like rice smoke and testosterone. Probably thinks he can speak to royalty with ramen breath and bare feet."

He checked three wings of the compound. Empty. No sign of him.

He has been seraching for this FUCKING human for an hour already! His fustration was palpable

By the time he reached the inner shrine wing, he was seething.

"I swear," he growled under his breath, "if he's napping on a futon like some farm peasant, I—"

He turned the corner.

Stopped.

And found him.

Naruto Uzumaki—standing casually at the far end of the warded hallway, inspecting a broken offering urn with mild interest. His clothes were clean, sleeves rolled, chakra perfectly balanced like a stone at rest. He was humming softly to himself. Not a whisper of ego. No armor. No fanfare.

Just… calm.

Hikotsu opened his mouth—

Then froze.

Because for the barest second, his sensor instincts twitched.

Then screamed.

His vision blurred.

His knees buckled.

His tail puffed.

Because he felt it.

Not just chakra.

Not even just power.

Presence.

A pressure beneath reality.

A chasm of chakra so dense it wasn't even heavy—it was vast. Silent. Ancient. Endless. Like an ocean that didn't move, because moving would end time.

And it was right there.

Sleeping.

Wrapped in flesh and humor and kindness.

But awake beneath the surface.

His breath hitched. Sweat poured down the sides of his muzzle. His limbs refused to obey. The hallway dimmed.

"Oh gods," he whispered hoarsely. "That's not a human."

Naruto blinked at him, startled. "Hey, you okay, fuzzy guy? You're kind of—uh, hyperventilating."

Hikotsu made a strangled sound like a goose being exorcised.

Naruto approached—panicked now. "You having a reaction or something?! You smell peaches? Cinnamon? Lightning?"

But Hikotsu didn't or rather couldnt answer his mind and senses were so overwhelmed he couldnt even speak. Naruto's chakra was simply that vast and powerful.

Naruto crouched slightly, one hand half-reaching in alarm. "Okay, you're definitely seeing something. Do I look like a ghost? Is this one of those yokai sensor illusions? Or—wait—am I leaking chakra? Did I forget to rebind the anchor suppression ring?"

The tanuki's eye twitched.

Naruto squinted.

And then the truth hit him.

"…You sensed me."

He blinked.

Then winced.

"Ohhh."

That explained everything—the sweating, the shaking, the whole 'my soul just brushed the edge of a supernova and peed itself' expression plastered across the yokai's face.

Naruto reached inward.

With practiced ease, he tightened the seal matrix around his core, folding down his chakra like origami until even the echo of his presence faded beneath the skin of the world. The air lightened. The hall breathed again.

Hikotsu gasped—long, ragged, and desperate.

His claws scrabbled at the wall for balance. His knees were still shaking. But at least now he could move. Think. Function.

And as Naruto watched him, brow raised—

The tanuki yokai dropped into a full-body bow so deep he nearly flattened himself into the floorboards.

"S-supreme one!" Hikotsu stammered, voice trembling. "F-forgive my ignorance—I-I did not recognize your—your divine presence!"

Naruto's face scrunched. "…Please don't call me that."

"I am but dust beneath your mountain-sea vastness!"

"Okay—let's not—"

"Great Radiant One!"

Naruto rubbed the back of his neck, and let out a resigned sigh. "This is post fourth shinobi war hero worship all over again-Hikotsu bowed deaper and Naruto face palmed- acually I take that back this is worse I havent even done anything heroic yet!"

He took a cautious step closer. "Look, I'm not mad, alright? It's not your fault. I'm just… hard to scan. You're clearly sensitive to chakra fields, which is impressive, honestly—most sensors can't pick up on me unless I flare."

Hikotsu finally managed to rise—only to bow again. "Please accept my apologies, O Infinite One! I—this humble servant had no idea—"

"Dude. Just call me Naruto."

"But—"

"Naruto."

"…Yes, Naruto-sama."

Naruto groaned.

⸻

Kyoto – Shrine Compound Corridor – Minutes Later

They walked in silence at first—Hikotsu a respectful three steps behind, still rattled, still bowing at random intervals like it was a nervous tic.

Naruto didn't mind.

He had other things on his mind now—namely, how much to reveal to the council.

They're scared. Curious. Probably feel cornered now that I've walked out of myth and into their backyard. Which means I need to be careful. Not too threatening. Not too soft. Just enough presence to anchor their perception—and control the pace of whatever political conversation this is supposed to become.

He folded his arms as they turned into a wider hall.

I'll need to pick my wording. I'm not here to start a war. But they need to know I'm not someone they can manipulate. And more importantly…

He glanced upward toward the shrine's upper tower, where Kunou's room waited.

They need to understand Yasaka and Kunou are not leverage. They're mine. And I don't share what's mine with anyone let alone politicians and diplomats.

Beside him, Hikotsu was still trying not to hyperventilate again.

He looks human, the tanuki thought feverishly. He acts human. But that chakra—god, it wasn't chakra. It was something else. It was gravity. It was time slowed to reverence. It was—

He swallowed hard.

I've sensed Serafall Leviathan. I've stood in the same court as Sirzechs Lucifer. I once brushed the presence of Sun Wukong the night he danced through the divine flames as a Buddha.

None of them felt like him.

None of them made the air forget to move.

He looked at Naruto's back. Still relaxed. Still humming faintly. Still—impossibly—casual.

No wonder Yasaka-sama chose him. No wonder she had a daughter with him. No wonder she never entertained another suitor in five years.

And then the thought hit.

A dangerous, trembling thought.

If that man becomes our king…

He stopped walking for half a heartbeat.

The devils will fear us.

The Shinto will no longer dismiss us.

The yokai will no longer be underdogs. We'll rise. We'll claim our place among the great factions—not as pawns—but equals.

With him beside her—

His tail twitched.

—with him beside our queen, no one will ever threaten Kyoto again.

He nearly choked on the flood of realization.

And that little girl—Kunou-sama. Our princess. If she inherits even a fraction of what I felt—

He broke into a cold sweat all over again.

Our future leader will be something the world isn't ready for.

Hikotsu's eyes shone with the gleam of a fanatic under divine revelation.

Let the devils come. Let the angels watch. Let the gods sleep in their jade towers.

The yokai… we have our king.

And beside him, Naruto scratched his cheek absently.

He glanced back.

"Hey, Hikotsu?"

The tanuki flinched. "Yes, Naruto-sama?"

Naruto grinned. "Relax. I'm just a guy. I'm not here to break anything."

Hikotsu stared at him.

Then bowed once more.

You already broke reality, my king.

⸻

Kyoto – High Pavilion Council Chamber

Shortly After

The audience hall had been meticulously prepared.

Incense spiraled from silver-braided braziers lining the walls, though their usual calming effect had failed to reach the council's nerves. The floor had been swept three times. The ceremonial water had been blessed twice. And yet—an oppressive tension crackled beneath every breath.

Councilor Jirou stood near the center dais, smoothing invisible wrinkles from his robes like it would stop his hands from shaking. Mizuchi hadn't stopped pacing since sunrise. The junior councilors sat rigid, looking like sacrificial scrolls waiting to ignite.

And in the center of the chamber—an empty space. Reserved.

Waiting.

Waiting for him.

The man who had reshaped their leyline resonance.

The man who had planted a living tree of glowing alien chakra in their ancestral garden.

The man who, until yesterday, was a complete mystery… and was now the single most destabilizing factor in the supernatural balance of power since the War of the Three Hells.

Yasaka entered first.

She didn't speak.

She didn't need to.

Her presence alone signaled the audience was no longer theirs to control.

She walked with slow, deliberate grace to the high seat and remained standing, her tails lowered but alert.

Then—

The doors opened.

And everything stilled.

Naruto Uzumaki stepped into the chamber without ceremony. Without guards. Without fanfare.

Just a man in simple black and orange robes, sleeves still dusted faintly with chalk seal residue. His posture was relaxed. His steps were quiet. But every inch of the room reacted like his presence was made of thunder.

Hikotsu followed two paces behind, eyes wide and glazed with spiritual clarity, whispering to himself like a man who had just gazed into the eyes of a dragon and come back with religion.

No one else moved.

Naruto stopped in the center of the room.

Hands in his pockets.

A faint, polite smile on his lips.

He didn't bow.

He didn't speak.

He simply… was.

And that alone turned the council to ice.

Yasaka's gaze flicked to Jirou. "You wanted a meeting."

Jirou cleared his throat. "Yes. We… thank you."

He turned to Naruto, doing his best to keep his voice steady. "Uzumaki-dono, we… welcome you formally to Kyoto."

Naruto nodded once. "Thanks. Kind of like it here. Good food. Nice trees."

Mizuchi's eye twitched. "The… tree," he began, tone tightly wound. "That tree you planted—is it alive?"

"Yes," Naruto replied simply.

"Is it… going to keep growing?"

"Probably."

"Is it… divine?"

"Nope."

A beat.

"It radiates spiritual resonance unlike anything we've measured," Councilor Kitsu murmured. "It warps natural energy around itself into a harmonized rhythm. Pure chakra—untainted by wrath, greed, or intent."

"Like mountain ki," another whispered.

Naruto tilted his head. "More like… purified Sage chakra. I didn't make it to be worshipped. I made it for my daughter."

The room fell silent again.

Until Jirou—slowly—folded his arms.

"Then let us ask plainly. Who are you?"

Naruto was quiet for a beat.

Then—

"I'm Naruto Uzumaki," he said. "Seventh Hokage of Konohagakure, one of the five great hidden villages of the Elemental Nations."

He met their eyes—every single one.

"I'm not from your world."

Not a breath moved.

Naruto continued, his voice calm.

"I come from a dimension beyond the one you call home. A world separated by natural laws—outside the influence of your divine factions, the Dimensional Gap, or Great Red's territory. A world that shouldn't even touch yours."

Now the councilors leaned forward, breath shallow.

"I arrived here by accident. Eight years ago. I was fighting an enemy who tore open space in a last act of defiance. I fell through. Into this world."

He held up a hand.

"The universe didn't want me here. My chakra didn't match this world's frequency. I was seen as a foreign anomaly. So over three years, it tried to eject me. And eventually… it succeeded."

Silence.

Then Mizuchi found his voice.

"And now you've… returned."

Naruto nodded. "Yes. Through a stabilized gateway. One I forged myself. Using chakra-based fuinjutsu—sealing techniques from my world, modified through Yin-Yang Release. The tree was part of the anchoring process. The rest of the gateway is hidden."

Jirou's lips parted.

"But the Dimensional Gap is patrolled by Great Red. No one enters or leaves without his notice. And even the angels and devils only dwell in connected pocket realms. You… bypassed that?"

"Yes," Naruto said. "Without detection. Twice."

Mizuchi sat down abruptly.

Hard.

"You… lied to reality."

Naruto scratched his cheek. "Yeah. That's what I told Kunou, too."

Someone whispered, "He… tricked the universe."

A younger crane clan advisor swallowed. "That shouldn't be possible."

"It's not," Yasaka said calmly. "Unless you're him."

Another silence fell—dense, electric, unraveling logic at the seams.

Jirou's voice cracked.

"You're saying… your entire world is full of humans… like you?"

Naruto shook his head. "No. No one is like me."

Beat.

"But yes. My world is full of chakra-wielding humans. Shinobi. Each with their own techniques, clans, traditions. I'm the strongest among them. Not because of birth. But because I had to be."

He met their eyes again.

"I unified the warring nations. Ended the Fourth Shinobi War. Killed gods. Sealed monsters. And now… I lead one of the strongest villages in my world. As its Hokage. As its peacekeeper. As its protector."

"And why," Jirou asked slowly, "are you here again?"

Naruto didn't hesitate.

"Because I promised someone I'd return."

His voice softened.

"And because I have a daughter."

Every head turned slightly.

Yasaka's face remained still.

"She's my firstborn," Naruto said quietly. "I wasn't there when she was born. I didn't know. I never got to see her take her first steps. I didn't get to hold her. I didn't even know her name until two days ago."

He drew in a slow breath.

"But now I do. Her name is Kunou. She has nine tails. She's got her mother's fire. And my everything. I'm here to protect her. And her mother."

He turned his gaze on the entire room.

"I'm not here to conquer. I'm not here to impose. But I am not weak. And I do not allow those I love to be threatened. So let's make this simple."

Naruto stepped forward.

And for just a moment—he let them feel it.

The barest taste.

A flicker of pressure.

Like a void cracking open beneath the floorboards. Not enough to harm. Just enough to know.

Every spiritual sensor in the room flared in panic.

Even Yasaka inhaled sharply.

Her fingers twitched faintly in her lap. Her eyes had not left him once since he began explaining. Her lover—the wild, clever boy who'd once shared secret kisses beneath fox-lit lanterns—was now something else entirely. Not just a warrior.

A force.

A leader.

A sovereign.

And she was rapidly discovering that it turned her on more than she was emotionally prepared to admit.

She clenched her thighs together beneath the formal robes and forced her gaze elsewhere, but it kept drifting back to the line of Naruto's shoulders. The way his chakra wrapped around him like it belonged to the world. The way he controlled the conversation with ease, gravity, and impossible warmth.

He was… hers.

Then—

Gone.

Sealed again behind flesh and control.

Naruto smiled faintly.

"Let's start over," he said. "I'm Naruto Uzumaki. From a world you've never seen. I'm not your enemy. But I'm not something you want as one, either."

He held out a hand.

"Let's talk."

And in the stunned hush that followed—when half the council had forgotten how to blink and the other half were frantically recalibrating their understanding of everything—Jirou reached out…

And took it.

⸻

There was no immediate reply.

Just stunned silence.

The kind of silence that fell after the sky cracked and the gods forgot their names.

Jirou's hand lingered in Naruto's for half a beat longer than it should've—as if unsure whether he was touching a man or the edge of some unknowable cosmic truth. When he finally let go, his palm was damp with sweat.

"…Please," Jirou said slowly, gesturing toward the central dais. "Sit."

Naruto nodded once and did.

Still calm.

Still composed.

Still carrying the weight of multiple dimensions like it was just another Tuesday.

The councilors took their seats again. Some trembled. A few scribes were whispering frantically into scrolls, trying and failing to record the layered chakra that still clung faintly to the air like the scent of a passing storm.

Councilor Mizuchi was the first to break the stillness again—his voice tight with disbelief, and something else beneath it.

Reverence.

The silence afterward stretched taut.

No one breathed. No one blinked.

Even the ceremonial incense seemed to hesitate in its spiral.

Then—

"If you woud please Explain," Mizuchi croaked at last, his talons twitching faintly but his tine is noticeably much more respectful and outright carries reverence and admiration for naruto now. "Your chakra… it's not ours. Not divine. Not yokai. Not sacred energy. It… responds differently. Moves differently. Why?"

Naruto leaned back slightly, fingers threading loosely together. He didn't rush.

"Because it's not the same chakra," he said simply. "Not by origin. Not by structure. Not even by biology."

The room stilled further.

"Chakra in my world isn't borrowed from spirits or shaped by belief," Naruto continued. "It's a fusion of physical stamina and spiritual energy. Internal. Self-generated. We train our bodies and minds to produce it ourselves."

A crane elder blinked. "You… manufacture chakra?"

"Every shinobi does," Naruto replied. "But what makes it powerful is the system it flows through."

He raised one hand and projected a soft blue glow from his palm—clean, balanced chakra. Then, with a brief focusing hum, he let a light trace of it pulse in a ring beneath his skin. Faint lines—chakra pathways—lit up beneath the surface like glowing circuits.

"This is the chakra circulatory system," he explained. "A web of channels built into our bodies from birth. Every person in my world has one. It governs how we mold, move, and shape chakra. From the smallest hand seal to the largest elemental attack."

A fox councilor inhaled sharply.

"That… that's impossible. No such pathways exist in our kind. We mold energy through the soul, through resonance, not through—plumbing."

Naruto nodded. "That's the difference. Your chakra is borrowed. Derived from the divine energy of the shinto—or from twisted echoes of it atleast. Yours runs through spiritual nodes, manipulated by will or training. But it's inefficient. You're shaping wild power through instinct and heritage."

"And you?" Kitsu asked quietly.

"We shape it with precision," Naruto said. "Through breath, form, intent. Our techniques are built from blueprints. Mathematical. Surgical. The most powerful jutsu in my world don't require divine favor. They require discipline. And knowledge."

Mizuchi stared. "Then your people… your entire world… is made of mortals who train themselves to use this refined chakra?"

"Yes."

"…Every soldier?"

"Yes."

"…Every child?"

Naruto gave a small smile. "By the time they're ten, most can mold chakra. By twelve, they're shinobi. By fifteen, some are splitting mountains."

A chakra not dependant on the favor of the shinto an independent chakra soruce coming from within, that has always been a fantasy a dream of the yokai and now they are learning there is an entire world of humans who have this dream as reality!

Then The implication sank in like a meteor strike.

Kunou.

The princess of the yokai.

The daughter of Yasaka.

Had a chakra circulatory system.

"Kunou-sama," a fox councilor whispered in dawning awe. "She has it. The system. The coils."

Naruto inclined his head proudly. "She does. She inherited my system, my chakra, and the ability to develop full mastery over it. She won't just cast spells like other yokai children. She'll create chakra. Shape it. Control it. And if trained…"

He didn't finish the sentence.

He didn't need to.

The council stared at him in mute, stunned silence.

Kunou wasn't just a strong heiress.

She was the next evolutionary step in yokai history.

Something broke in the room.

A soundless shatter.

Like faith falling into something deeper.

Jirou's voice was tight. "You mentioned… natural energy. Senjutsu. But it feels different around you. It's… clean. Calm."

Naruto's eyes darkened faintly—not in anger, but memory.

"That's another difference," he said. "In my world, nature welcomes us. We're part of it. The Sage of Six Paths—the first chakra wielder—shared his gift with humanity through understanding. That bond with the world is woven into our chakra."

He glanced at them, then added softly—

"But here… this world doesn't want you."

Murmurs erupted.

"What—?"

"Excuse me—?"

Yasaka's brows furrowed slightly. Even she hadn't heard this part before.

Naruto continued. Calm. Unflinching.

"I've studied your natural energy. The leylines here. They're hostile. They reject foreign chakra—even your own, if you push too far. I can feel it. Hatred. Malice. Woven into the very roots of this world."

Mizuchi shivered. "You're saying… Gaia?"

Naruto nodded. "Your planet—the consciousness of it—doesn't like you. Humans. Yokai. Devils. Angels. It considers you infections. Viruses. And that hatred bleeds into everything."

He paused.

"That's why your sages suffer. Why training in senjutsu here is like bathing in knives. Your natural energy hurts you. Ours heals us."

Kitsu looked pale. "Then how do you survive here?"

Naruto smiled faintly.

"I bring my own world with me."

Silence.

Then Jirou exhaled. "…That tree."

"Yes," Naruto said. "It acts as a stabilizer. A resonance anchor. It's drawing in natural energy and purifying it through my chakra. Rewriting the laws around it. That's why yokai sages feel at peace there."

The silence was no longer stunned.

It was reverent.

This man.

This human.

This otherworlder…

He spoke of miracles like they were morning routines.

Of power without prayer.

Of chakra without debt.

Of evolution without divine chains.

"Then your people…" Councilor Kitsu said slowly, "are not supernatural. Not divine. Their power natrual coming from the very world you live in, Not made by gods."

(I just know this is going to spark some arguments so i will say this now, yes haguromo gave humans acess to chakra but that chakra itself came from the ten tails sealed inside of him (he inhertaed chakra from his mother who gained acess to it from the chakra tree) which is the god tree that the otsutsuki planted to gather the planet's chakra and consume it. So technically the chakra in the naruto world came from the planet itself gathered by the outsutuski planted god tree and eventually given to humans through the sage of six paths its still the planet's chakra and they are not dependant on the otsutuski to use it atleast not anymore)

Naruto smiled.

"Yes"

That was the final shatter.

Even the most traditional members of the council leaned forward now—not in suspicion.

But in awe.

Hope bloomed like embers in the eyes of those who had grown old under Shinto neglect. For centuries, the yokai had waited for recognition. For strength. For an equal place beside devils and angels and gods.

Kitsu whispered, "You're not just a man. You're a… a keystone. A planetary immune response."

"I'm a dad," Naruto corrected. "And I made that tree for Kunou."

Yasaka's breath hitched. She turned her face slightly away, hiding the heat that suddenly rushed to her cheeks.

That tone.

That protective certainty. That absolute, unshakable rootedness.

It was new. Different.

The Naruto she remembered was powerful—but rough-edged. Still impulsive. Still maturing.

This?

This was a leader.

A man who had ruled armies. Made peace with monsters. Raised nations. Planted impossible trees just to give his daughter peace.

Yasaka watched the council shift around her, eyes bright, heart pulsing with watched him—watched the way her council leaned closer now, drawn by gravity they didn't know how to resist—and her tails flared behind her like rising sun banners.

And then her eyes slid back to Naruto.

To the way he sat, golden and grounded, like this throne of world-shifting truth was nothing more than another battlefield to pacify.

And oh, he was hot.

Naruto's spine prickled.

He glanced at her.

Yasaka smiled—slow and dangerous.

Naruto immediately sweatdropped.

Yup.

He was definitely in trouble later.

And definitely not escaping without getting jumped.

Councilor Mizuchi cleared his throat shakily. "So… to confirm… you come from a world full of militarized humans. Each trained to use this superior chakra. A world we never knew existed. And you intend to open diplomatic relations with us?"

Naruto nodded. "Eventually. Carefully. I don't want war. I don't want fame. I want a future for Kunou. That means stability between both worlds."

Jirou murmured, "You would be… our bridge."

"I'd be her bridge," Naruto corrected. "But yes. I'll vouch for Kyoto. I'll protect it. For them."

He looked at Yasaka.

And the entire chamber suddenly felt like voyeurs to something they didn't deserve to see.

The silence after that was different.

Not tense.

Just…

Reverent.

Then—

Councilor Amaya, the youngest among them, hesitated.

"…Would you… consider taking a more formal role?"

Naruto blinked.

"…Huh?"

Jirou coughed. "I believe what she means is… you've shown strength beyond our comprehension. Calm in the face of panic. Knowledge that surpasses our archives. And above all…"

He looked at Kunou's mother.

"…You're already the father of our future ruler."

Yasaka choked on air.

Naruto blinked. "Wait, are you—?"

"You could marry her," Mizuchi said flatly. "Make it official. Become our king."

Naruto stared.

Yasaka's entire aura flared behind him in a visible shockwave of flustered aggression.

"We will not be discussing that here!" she hissed.

But the damage was done.

Half the council was already murmuring excitedly.

A king.

A real king.

A godslayer.

And he made trees.

Naruto sighed, rubbing his temples.

Councilor Amaya cleared her throat awkwardly as the murmurs swelled into a quiet storm of whispered diplomacy and barely restrained fanboying.

Naruto looked around the chamber—at the glimmering hope in the younger councilors' eyes, the stunned awe radiating off the older ones, the very real theological crisis blooming in Kitsu's furrowed brow.

Then he looked at Yasaka.

Still standing. Still tall. Still proud.

But her golden eyes were wide now. Not afraid. Not angry.

But caught off guard.

Vulnerable in a way he hadn't seen since the night he vanished from this world five years ago.

His voice lowered—only enough for her ears.

"…You okay?"

Yasaka didn't answer right away. Her lips parted… but no sound emerged.

Because the weight of it all was real now.

This was happening.

He was back.

He wasn't hiding.

And he wasn't just back as her lost lover or Kunou's father.

He was here as something more.

Something sovereign.

And it was turning her insides into stormfire.

She straightened slowly, gold eyes narrowing into dangerous slits—not out of anger, but defense.

Because if she let them keep talking…

She would say yes.

And she wasn't ready for that.

Not yet.

Yasaka's tone was velvet-cloaked steel. "Councilors, I understand your excitement. But this is a strategic summit. Not a wedding."

Naruto choked on nothing.

Mizuchi looked vaguely disappointed.

Councilor Kitsu nodded sagely, stroking his whiskers. "Of course. Naturally. But it is our duty to note potential alliances of… profound consequence."

"Noted," Yasaka deadpanned. "And tabled. Until further notice."

Naruto leaned sideways slightly in his seat and whispered, "They've been waiting to marry you off for years, haven't they?"

Yasaka's smile was all teeth. "You have no idea."

Naruto cleared his throat and straightened, rubbing his neck with the faintest blush.

"Right," he muttered. "Back to the apocalypse-defying chakra talks…"

Councilor Jirou finally found his footing again, voice regaining some of its former precision.

"There are… several matters of political gravity we must still address, Uzumaki-dono. Chief among them—your presence here. If your dimension can access ours, then the inverse must be considered as well."

Naruto nodded. "I've accounted for that. The gate is anchored in a sealed subspace node. No one enters or exits without my explicit chakra signature and key-code authentication."

"And your world?" Kitsu asked. "Would they… react favorably? To us?"

Naruto hesitated.

That was a heavier question.

"…They'll be cautious," he admitted. "Shinobi are trained to think in terms of threat assessments and unknown variables. Another world—one with angels and devils and gods—is a big ask."

His gaze sharpened slightly.

"But they trust me. My village, especially. And my allies across the Elemental Nations know I wouldn't risk our world so recklessly."

Yasaka's heart skipped again.

That tone.

That steel.

That sovereignty.

He wasn't just posturing anymore.

He was ruling.

"And… if conflict came?" Mizuchi asked softly.

"If someone tried to take Kunou?" another added, quieter still.

Naruto didn't smile.

He didn't growl.

He simply said, "Then I would do what I've always done."

The chakra in the room shifted—slow, cold, vast.

"I would protect what's mine."

And every yokai in the chamber believed him.

Because in that moment…

He wasn't human.

He was the answer to every insult the devils had ever thrown at them.

He was the storm the Shinto had been too lazy to summon.

He was the living incarnation of everything they had dreamed might one day rise to stand beside Yasaka.

A man of fire.

Of quake.

Of unshakable love.

Jirou stood slowly.

Then bowed.

Low.

Deep.

Every other councilor followed.

One by one.

Tails, horns, claws, wings—all lowered.

Because this wasn't just politics anymore.

This was history.

Naruto Uzumaki—a godlike man from a far away world—had come to Kyoto not as a conqueror…

But as a father.

A protector.

A king, not by demand.

But by deserving.

Yasaka watched it unfold in silence.

The way the chamber bent around him now.

The way the room bowed to his weight like the world itself was holding its breath.

And then she met his eyes.

And saw, for just a flicker, the twenty-year-old boy again.

Still there.

Still hers.

Her fingers tightened in her lap.

Not yet.

But soon.

Very soon.

She was going to drag him into her private quarters.

And worship him like the walking miracle he was.

Naruto, across the room, shivered violently.

"…Why do I feel like I'm in danger?" he whispered to himself.

Hikotsu, standing at the door with wide, worshipful eyes, whispered:

"Because you're not a man anymore, Uzumaki-sama. You're a legend."

And outside the chamber…

The tree continued to bloom.

Its petals fell slowly—soft, quiet, reverent.

And the future began to take root.

⸻

Kyoto – Shrine Estate Grounds— Evening

The doors of the High Pavilion finally sighed shut behind them.

Yasaka exhaled—long, slow, and soul-deep—as she stepped into the evening air with Naruto beside her. The golden-red spill of sunset painted the stone path ahead, dappled with petals that had drifted in from the blossoming miracle tree. A warm breeze swept past, and for the first time in hours… silence.

"God," she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. "If I have to hear one more councilor whisper the word 'king' like it's foreplay, I might commit a war crime."

Naruto snorted. "Would it help if I said they're just impressed?"

Yasaka side-eyed him. "Would it help you if I said I almost exploded when you flared your chakra like that in front of everyone?"

His step faltered. "Wait—exploded how?"

She didn't answer. Just smiled. Sharp. Sweet. Dangerous.

Naruto coughed, face faintly red. "Noted."

They walked in easy quiet for a few more moments, the weight of the council hall falling off their shoulders with every step. Naruto rolled his neck, loosening the stiffness, and exhaled.

"…That went better than I thought," he said.

"You shut down centuries of yokai prejudice, made Mizuchi bow, and accidentally launched a royal proposal," Yasaka replied. "That's your version of 'better than I thought'?"

"I mean, no one threw anything. Or challenged me to a duel."

Yasaka blinked.

Then laughed.

It was a rich, genuine sound, echoing through the gardens like temple bells. Naruto grinned, letting the sound wrap around him like a shield from the day.

"You've changed," she said after a beat, quieter now.

"Yeah," he admitted. "You have too."

Yasaka's gaze softened. She stepped a little closer as they turned down the inner path toward the shrine mansion. "Still…" she murmured. "I missed you. All of you. Even the dumb jokes. Especially the dumb jokes."

Naruto smirked. "So… you missed me yelling 'believe it!' at the worst possible moments?"

"I said dumb, not illegal."

Another shared laugh.

The mansion gate came into view, soft lanternlight flickering behind its carved archways. Naruto slowed his steps.

They stepped through the inner gate and into the main hall of Yasaka's mansion-warm wood, faint incense, a thousand threads of memory woven into the walls. It smelled like sandalwood, moonlight, and safety.

Naruto paused outside Kunou's room, peeking in.

She was still curled on her futon, tail draped over her belly, hugging her glowing rose from earlier like a plush toy. A faint shimmer of chakra sealed the windows—Naruto's clones still hidden nearby, silent and alert.

"She's out cold," he whispered.

Yasaka nodded. "She always crashes after stuffing herself. You gave her three rice balls and half a dumpling plate."

Naruto raised an eyebrow. "She asked politely. And weaponized puppy eyes."

"She's my daughter," Yasaka said proudly. "It's a bloodline technique."

They lingered for another second—watching Kunou breathe softly, watching her tails twitch with dreams.

Then Yasaka grabbed Naruto's wrist.

He blinked. "Uh—?"

And then she yanked.

Right down the hall. Past the kitchen. Past the guest rooms. Into one of the side corridors near her private chambers. Her tails flared like banners in motion, her steps decisive, expression unreadable.

"Uh, Yasaka—?"

"Not another word," she said sweetly.

The door slid open behind her.

Naruto was pulled inside.

The screen slammed shut.

And the next sound was Yasaka pushing him against the wall and kissing him.

Hard.

Fingers in his hair. Nails against his chest. Tails curling around his leg like golden ropes.

Naruto barely had time to catch up before instinct kicked in and he kissed her back—one arm wrapping tight around her waist, the other bracing them both against the wall. Her scent filled his lungs—flame and spice and divine heat.

"Five years," she muttered between kisses. "Five years, Uzumaki."

"I didn't plan the banishment," he mumbled, lips against her jaw. "I tried to come back sooner—"

"You got hotter." Her voice was half growl, half complaint. "That should be illegal."

Naruto chuckled. "So this is payback?"

"No," she whispered.

She kissed him again—slow this time. Deep. Meaningful.

"This is mine."

And he let her take him.

⸻

(due to the restrictions of this site the lemon scene is available on my P-a-t-r-e-o-n account)

⸻

The room was a mess.

Clothes somewhere. Pillows on the floor. One of Yasaka's hairpins stuck in the shoji frame at an impossible angle.

Naruto lay on his back, chest rising and falling in deep, contented breaths. Yasaka was draped half on top of him naked—one leg over his hip, her face tucked against his neck. Her tails flicked lazily, completely unbothered by decorum.

They were wrapped in silk sheets and silence.

And for once, Naruto let the silence speak first.

Then—

"…Still angry?" he asked lightly.

Yasaka snorted into his collarbone. "Yes. But the sex helped."

He laughed softly, stroking his fingers through her hair.

"I missed you," she murmured again.

"I missed you more."

"Liar."

He smirked. "True. I missed you just enough."

A pillow thudded against his shoulder.

She shifted slightly, her expression now softer. Almost shy. "…I was afraid."

Naruto blinked. "Of what?"

"That you'd come back changed," she said. "That you'd be too far away. That you wouldn't still be… you."

He wrapped his arm tighter around her. "I did change."

She didn't flinch.

"But," he added, turning slightly so their foreheads touched, "I also came back. And the part of me that loves you never left."

Yasaka didn't speak.

She just kissed him again.

Soft this time.

Final.

Certain.

And outside their room, the petals of the tree fell slow and silent—

Marking the end of one day.

And the beginning of something very, very new.

⸻

Author Note:

Please leave reviews, they motivate me to continue writing, tell me about your thoughts and opinions regarding the story so far.