Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The night was as dark as pitch, the only light coming from a blood-red moon that hung large and heavy in the sky like an overripe cherry. It shone down on the battered landscape, bathing the sea of corpses in a sickly crimson glow. Naruto clenched his fists tightly, nails digging into calloused flesh. So many had died. Too many. Neji, Shikaku-o-san, Inoichi-o-san, and countless others...All of them were dead because of the whims of a madman.

Madara himself stood on a high crest; his form silhouetted by the moon. Naruto wasn’t able to make out his expression, but it wasn’t difficult to picture his arrogant smirk of satisfaction as he surveyed the destruction his hands had wrought.

Madara! His heart screamed in wordless fury. I’ll kill you!

“Pay attention, idiot!” Sasuke’s voice broke into his reverie. “Your opponent is me!”

His former teammate sprang towards him, his entire body enveloped in the potent purple chakra of the Susanoo. In the giant’s hands was a massive sword, poised for attack.

Kurama, he thought tiredly. A little help here...

In answer, the gold chakra of the Nine-Tails cloak rippled around his body.

You need to end this quickly. Kurama’s deep voice rumbled inside his mind. Your reserves are almost gone, and we still have to deal with Madara.

I know that, dattebayo, he muttered.

Kurama’s chakra stretched into two long arms, meeting the sword and stopping it in the middle of its deadly arc. The ground shook from the impact and Naruto staggered drunkenly, fighting to stay on his feet.

“Sasuke, enough of this!” he cried.

“Shut up!” Sasuke said through gritted teeth.

“Now isn’t the time for us to be fighting, dattebayo!” he tried again. “Itachi would’ve wanted you to help fight to protect Konoha!”

“You don’t have any right to talk about what Itachi would have wanted,” Sasuke spat viciously. “Konoha didn’t deserve his devotion! The entire village is nothing but a rotted tree—good for nothing but being cut down and burned. If this war kills every person in Konoha, that would be fine with me.”

“So you’re on his side then?” He jerked his thumb toward Madara in disgust. “You’ll team up with the one who caused the massacre in the first place?”

“I’m not teaming up with him. He’s next once I take care of you.”

The Susanoo faded away and at nearly the same moment Naruto’s cloak also flickered and disappeared. It appeared that he wasn’t the only one who was nearly out of chakra.

“This is the end, Naruto!” Lightning chakra coated Sasuke’s hand, emitting the familiar high-pitched chirping of a thousand birds.

“Sasuke!” He mustered the last of his reserves—a feeling akin to scraping the bottom of an empty barrel—and was rewarded when the Rasengan flickered to life in his palm.

The two attacks—wind and lightning—collided in a shockwave of hair-raising energy. By the time the dust had settled, both he and Sasuke were lying flat on the ground, utterly drained and unable to lift more than a finger.

Suddenly a blinding blue light flooded the sky and blocked out everything else, even the taunting red moon. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw that the light had the form of a colossal armored giant—Madara’s Susanoo. He struggled frantically to move, but it was futile. He could do nothing but watch as the giant raised its blade over them.

“You young ones may be strong, but you are too naïve,” Madara said scornfully. “In my era, the victorious shinobi waited until their enemies were weakened to strike. You would do well to take this lesson with you to the afterlife.”

The light grew stronger, encompassing him and burning his eyes with its overpowering radiance. The last thing he heard was maniacal laughter before everything faded into nothingness.

.  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

            Drip...Drip...Drip...

            Naruto’s eyes flew open and he looked around in confusion. The battlefield was gone, replaced by a strange cavernous space. He called it a space because he had no way to tell if he was inside or outside. There were no walls or ceiling that he could see, but the floor was covered in clear liquid that glowed with a goldish tint. It looked like water, yet it wasn’t wet—his clothes didn’t have a single damp spot on them.

            What the heck was this place...?

            “You are in a realm of my creation.”

            He whirled and found himself face-to-face with a man unlike any he had ever seen before. His skin had a grayish hue, and two horns sprouted from his forehead. He wore a white robe and in his right hand was a monk’s staff made of smooth, dark metal. But what struck him the most was the man’s eyes. Purple with rings—the Rinnegan.

            “Who are you?” he asked warily.

            “My name is Hagoromo Otsutsuki,” the man replied, “but I am also known as the Sage of Six Paths.”

            Naruto gaped at him. “The creator of ninjutsu? What are you doing here? What am I doing here? The attack...I thought...”

            He checked his body for injuries but found none. “Am I...dead?”

            “You are currently in a stasis between life and death. I have contained your soul in this realm to prevent you from traveling to the Pure World, but your body is already no more.”

            He leapt to his feet in agitation. “What about Sasuke? Is he alright?”

            The man looked surprised for a moment, then his expression softened. “You really are very much like him.”

            “What happened to Sasuke, senin-jii-chan? You know, don’t you?”

            The old man eyed him sadly. “You already know the answer to that question, don’t you?”

            Naruto opened his mouth to ask again, but he stopped himself once he realized that the old man was right. There was no way Sasuke could have survived that attack—not in the state he was in. He sat down, defeated.

            “It would not have mattered, even if he had lived,” Hagoromo said. “With either of you lost, the world is doomed.”

            Naruto looked up abruptly. “What do you mean?”

            “There is a prophecy. You have perhaps heard of the Child of Prophecy, but there is another—a brother prophecy that speaks of two who will hold the fate of the world in their hands—either its salvation or its destruction. They are the Children of Prophecy, the reincarnations of my two sons, Ashura and Indra.”

He hit his staff against the water, creating ripples that spread into an ever-widening circle. Naruto watched in amazement as the water beneath his feet took on a reflection of a young man with warm brown eyes and a grinning expression.

“Who...?”

“That is my younger son, Ashura. His chakra clings to you, as does his spirit.” The image disappeared as suddenly as it had come. “My other son, Indra, has also been reborn into this world.”

“It’s Sasuke...isn’t it?” It was a gut feeling more than anything, but he knew that he was right. He didn’t know how, but he did.

Hagoromo nodded tiredly. “It doesn’t surprise me that you could sense it. You two are brothers—if not in blood, then in spirit.”

“And you say that...that Sasuke and I were supposed to save the world?”

“So it was prophesied, but that is impossible now. With you two gone, no one will be able to stop Madara from destroying the world.”

Sakura’s smiling face appeared in his mind. He had failed her—he had failed all of them. Everyone was going to die, and it was all his fault.

“No! There has to be some way to fix it!” he cried desperately. “Can’t you do something with your sage powers? Anything?”

The old man smiled. “You really do remind me of Ashura. There is one way, but it is dangerous and there is no guarantee that it will work.”

“Just tell me what it is, and I’ll do it! I’ll do anything, senin-jii-chan!”

“Very well. My proposal is this: I will send you back in time to a date where you will be able to shape events so that you and Sasuke will fight together rather than against each other. Only then will the prophecy be fulfilled, and the world be saved.”

He gaped at the old man. “You can really do that? Send me back in time?”

Hagoromo’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Indeed. I am the Sage of Six Paths, after all.”

“I’ll do it!” he cried eagerly. “This time I’ll definitely get that stubborn jerk to listen to me, dattebayo!”

“Very well, but you must understand that you only have one chance. If you fail, there will be no more going back.”

“I understand,” he said solemnly.

“Good.” Hagoromo held out his staff towards him. “Now grab on.”

Naruto obediently grasped the handle of the staff. The metal began to vibrate at his touch.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing you should know,” Hagoromo said as the vibration intensified to a loud hum. “I will be sending your spirit back to a time before you were born, so you will be in a different body—another reincarnation of Ashura. Best of luck. The fate of the world is in your hands.”

Naruto’s eyes widened. “Another...? Wait, what—?”

But at that moment the old man and the strange space were swallowed by a powerful burst of light, and everything slipped into nothingness once more.

Chapter Text

Tendrils of early morning sunlight caressed his face, awakening him with a gentle touch. Naruto groaned and looked around groggily. He was in a room that was both strange and familiar at the same time. The ceiling, walls, and floor were all made of slatted wood that fit together seamlessly, and the windows were covered with translucent paper that filtered in the light. He was lying on a futon that had been placed on a raised wooden platform in the corner of the room.

When he sat up, something long and brown fell over his shoulders. His brow furrowed when he saw that it was hair. He reached up and touched it, eyes widening in shock as he realized that the hair belonged to him. With a start, he remembered the old man’s parting words.

He leapt to his feet and nearly tripped over a large chest as he scrambled to a wooden table. There was a rough-bristled brush and a mirror with an ornately carved handle. He seized the mirror and held it up to his face. The glass was foggy, not at all like the mirrors he was used to, but he would recognize the face that peered back at him anywhere. He dropped the mirror, scarcely hearing as it clattered to the floor.

            “Hashirama-sama?” Someone spoke from the other side of the sliding door. “Is everything alright?”

            “Y-Yes, everything’s fine!” It wasn’t his own voice that came out of his throat, but the deeper voice of a stranger.

            He collapsed shakily onto the futon. He could hear soft voices, accented with worry, conversing just outside the door, but he paid them little attention. He cradled his head in his hands, mind racing as he realized the situation that he was in.

Hashirama Senju. He didn’t know why or how it had happened, but there was no doubt that he was in the body of Hashirama Senju, the First Hokage of Konoha.

“Brother? I’m coming in.”

He jumped as the door slid open and a stern-faced man with wild white hair stepped into the room. Naruto’s jaw went slack at the sight of him. It was another stone face come alive in the flesh—the Second Hokage, Tobirama Senju.

The white-haired man frowned. “What’s wrong? Your attendants said that you were acting strangely.”

“N-Nothing, datte—” He broke off in an embarrassed cough. He didn’t know much about history, but he had a feeling that the Shodaime probably didn’t have his speech tic.

Tobirama was still frowning at him suspiciously. He was one of those people who had a naturally intimidating aura, but right now, his stormy expression made it even worse. Naruto immediately discarded any idea of telling him the truth. His instincts warned him this man wouldn’t show mercy to an imposter, no matter how hard he tried to explain it.

“It’s really nothing,” he said hastily. “I just...I had a nightmare that you died, that’s all.”

He bit the inside of his cheek. It wasn’t a complete lie, at least. The last thing he knew—Tobirama was dead. So were Hashirama and all the other people of this time, for that matter.

To his relief, Tobirama’s expression softened marginally. Rather than looking like he was going to kill someone, he now looked like he would just maim them before sending them on their way.

“I’m not going anywhere, brother,” he said. “Don’t you remember our promise?”

He had a sudden vision of a stone that had been set up at the base of a large oak tree. A grave. And then, he remembered. He remembered how he and Tobirama—the only ones left in a family of four brothers—had sworn to grow strong and not die until they were old and gray. The pain from that day and his resolve as he made his promise stirred up emotions that left him stunned by their sheer potency.

“I remember,” he said softly, wonderingly.

What on earth was going on? That had been one of Hashirama’s memoires, but it felt as real as if it was his own. He quickly checked his own memories, but they were still there as far as he could tell. His time with Team 7, Sasuke’s betrayal and the promise he had made to Sakura-chan, everything that had happened afterward with the Akatsuki, and finally, the war and Madara—he remembered all of it.

“Hurry up and get dressed,” Tobirama said as he turned to leave. “I don’t know what you’re still doing asleep with the sun this high in the sky anyway. We have clan business to attend to.”

As soon as he was gone, Naruto raced to the window. He was in a compound of some kind, walled in by a perimeter of thick logs whose tops had been sharpened to razor points. Beyond the wall there was nothing but dense forest as far as his eye could see.

This wasn’t Konoha, which meant that he must be in the warring states era. Why had the old man sent him back this far? He was supposed to be getting Sasuke to work together with him to end the war, but neither of them would be born for another fifty years or so. Heck, Sasuke’s parents weren’t even around yet.

It had to be some kind of mistake, but there was nothing to do now but play along and make the best of it. Still, if he ever saw that old man again, he promised himself that—legendary Sage of Six Paths or not—he would find a way to get back at him for this.

Shaking his head, he walked over to a wooden chest—the same one he had nearly tripped over earlier. Opening it, he found many items of odd clothing. He curiously held up what looked to be a long, pleated skirt. He started to wonder how it was worn, but found that he already knew. He fished around for a simple beige shirt and overcoat, then put them on with skilled hands, as if he had done it a thousand times before. A dark green obi, tightened securely around his waist, completed the ensemble.

Interesting. It appeared that he didn’t just have Hashirama’s memories, but his general knowledge as well. That certainly made matters easier.

He finished dressing and was pondering what he was supposed to do next when the voice of one of his attendants drifted through the thin paper of the door.

“Hashirama-sama? I have your breakfast tray. Shall I bring it in?”

His stomach rumbled at the mention of food. He hadn’t realized it before, but he was ravenously hungry. “Yes,” he called. “Please bring it in.”

A young man with shoulder-length brown hair entered the room carrying a lacquered tray laden with steaming dishes. The name “Gebu” popped into his head when he saw him.

The man set the tray down noiselessly, then handed him a small scroll. “Here is your itinerary for the day, Hashirama-sama.”

“Thank you...Gebu.” He tried the name experimentally, but the man didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

“Of course, Hashirama-sama. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“I don’t think so.”

He picked up his chopsticks eagerly but hesitated when he noticed that Gebu was still standing there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other with an air of discomfort.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I apologize, Hashirama-sama, but...am I dismissed?”

Whoops. “Yes, you’re dismissed, Gebu. Sorry about that.”

The young man looked scandalized. “There is no need for you to apologize, Hashirama-sama. Please don’t hesitate to call me if there is anything else that you require.”

He bowed and backed respectfully from the room. Naruto watched him go, then ran his hands through his hair with a sigh. Even with Hashirama’s memories and knowledge, it looked like this was going to take some getting used to.

He devoured his breakfast of miso soup and salted herring, then unrolled the scroll to look it over. It was penned in neat handwriting that had a decidedly feminine touch. A quick glance told him that his first meeting was in his office at seven o’clock.

Wait—seven o’clock? He flew to his feet in a panic. There was no clock in his room, so he didn’t know exactly what time it was, but something told him it was far past seven.

Luckily, the Hashirama part of his mind—as he decided to call it—knew exactly where his office was. He dashed down long hallways, socks sliding and skidding on the polished wood floors. Everyone that saw him stopped what they were doing and bowed deeply until he had passed.

Yep, he thought with an embarrassed grimace. This would definitely take some getting used to.

At last, he reached the doors to his office and flung them open. “Sorry I’m late!” he cried.

            Tobirama was sitting at a desk, lips pursed in thought as he leafed through a sheaf of documents. He didn’t even look up as he entered. The room’s only other occupant was a young woman with an angular face and dark bangs that swept over one eye.

            Her name was Toka Senju, and according to the Hashirama part of his mind, she had grown up with him and his brothers—almost like a sister.

The woman inclined her head when she saw him, but at least she didn’t bow. “Good morning.”

            “Morning, Toka. Sorry I’m late. Time, uh, slipped away from me I guess.”

He chuckled inwardly at his quip, but it felt hollow without Kurama there to berate him for his poor sense of humor. He never thought that he would be saying it, but he missed the old fox.

            “Not to worry,” Toka said serenely. “I know that you’ll work extra hard to make up for it, won’t you?”

He swallowed and nodded. There was no question that she was furious, but her placid tone and expression gave no sign of it. The strange juxtaposition made her even more terrifying.

“That’s what I thought,” she smiled.

He groaned inwardly. So much for his visions of sweet domestic girls in this era. This Toka woman was scarier than Sakura-chan and Tsunade-baa-chan combined.

Tobirama made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a cough, and he shot him a dirty glare. He must have known about this meeting, but he hadn’t even seen fit to warn him.

            Clearing his throat, Tobirama set down the papers he was holding. “Let’s not waste any more time, shall we? Now that he’s here, go ahead and give your report, Toka.”

            “As you wish.” She straightened and faced him with a professional air. “I have just returned from our winter compound, where the Uchiha defectors are staying temporarily. Their numbers are continuing to increase, and they’re asking for assurance that we’ll protect them from retribution from their other clan members. We...”

She stopped, eyeing him in concern. “Hashirama, are you alright?”

            His mind reeled as everything suddenly made sense. Hashirama was alive, so that meant that Madara must be too. That was why he had been sent back to this time! If Madara died, then the Uchiha Massacre would never happen. Sasuke would never leave Konoha, and the war would likely never start in the first place. If he killed Madara, everything would be solved.

            “Hashirama?” Tobirama and Toka were both watching him worriedly.

            “Madara.” He spat out the name. “Where is he?”

            “We aren’t certain,” Toka said hesitantly. “According to the Uchiha he hasn’t returned to their compound, so he is likely still wandering the forests of the Fire Country.”

            “I’ve got to find him,” he said, starting for the door.

            “Wait, brother!” Tobirama called after him. “What will you do once you find him?”

            He didn’t waver or hesitate. “I’ll kill him, of course.”

            “But can you really kill him?” Toka asked quietly. “I know how you get when it comes to that man.”

            “I’ll kill him. I have to kill him—for what he’s done and what he will do. There’ll be no peace in this world as long as he lives.”

            And with those words, he turned and strode out the door, leaving them sitting in stunned silence.

Chapter Text

Finding Madara turned out to be surprisingly easy. The guards at the gate stepped aside as soon as they recognized him, and once he was outside the compound, a bit of experimentation revealed that he could still use all of his own jutsu, except for the few that required Kurama’s power, like the Nine-Tails Cloak.

He could also use Hashirama’s abilities, which was just plain awesome. He was already dreaming up dozens of ways he could integrate wood release into his fighting style. Yamato-sensei would have been proud. Still, when it came to locating Madara, there was nothing that would work better than his own signature jutsu.

“Tajuu Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!”

He yelped as a hundred brunette clones popped into existence, then scowled and rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment, grateful that no one else had been there to see it. After doing that jutsu for so many years, it was jarring to see clones that didn’t look like himself—or his past self, or whatever it was.

He coughed awkwardly when he realized that the Hashirama clones were staring at him. “Alright, listen up, dattebayo! I want you all to focus on gathering as much nature chakra as you can. Once you’ve entered Sage Mode, split up and search for Madara! If you find him, you know what to do!”

The Hashirama clones all saluted in unison. “You got it, boss!”

He shook his head as he watched them disappear one by one into the forest. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to that.

Alone once more, he settled down on the forest floor to wait. He was itching to hunt down Madara, but he didn’t want to risk wasting time going in the wrong direction. The minutes dragged by slowly, but his patience was rewarded when the memories of one of his clones flooded back to him.

A grim smile spread over his face. Got him, dattebayo.

He dispelled the others, then set off at full speed in the direction where his clone had been. It wasn’t long before he could sense Madara with Sage Mode. The Uchiha’s chakra stood out like a gaping crater in a lush, green landscape.

He slowed his pace as the forest opened into a clearing and Madara himself came into view. The dark-haired man stood on the opposite side of the field, watching him with his arms crossed. He had clearly sensed him coming.

Madara...

Hashirama’s memories hit him like buffeting waves, one after the other, leaving him with no hope of blocking them out. He was whisked away to another time and place, when Madara wasn’t a lunatic bent on destroying the world, but a friend. No, his thoughts corrected themselves automatically, more than a friend—a brother.

He remembered it all as clearly as if he had been there himself. His first encounter with Madara by the riverside, their clandestine meetings and training, and everything that happened after, culminating in the day of Izuna’s death.

And through all of the memories, there was Madara. Madara’s youthful smiling face. Madara laughing and joking by his side. Madara vowing to protect his little brother with that determined light in his eyes. And finally...Madara’s grief-crazed expression after he lost Izuna.

Sorrow and regret washed over him, along with an overpowering desire to save Madara before he destroyed himself. It was a feeling that he understood far too well.

He stopped the thought there, shaking his head angrily. Those were Hashirama’s emotions and memories, not his. He knew what he had to do. He couldn’t allow himself to be shaken. He had to kill Madara. He couldn’t let him live, not when he knew what he would become.

“Madara!” he cried once he was close enough for the other man to hear. “I’ll kill you!”

Madara smirked, and the gesture reminded him painfully of Sasuke. That’s right, he told himself. Remember why you’re fighting. For Sasuke. For Sakura-chan. For Neji, Shikaku-o-san, Inoichi-o-san, and all the rest. For everyone’s future, you have to end this.

“I didn’t think that Saint Hashirama would be capable of such bloodlust,” Madara said dryly. “Very well. Go ahead and kill me—if you can, that is.”

Naruto lunged towards him with a cry of rage. Wooden spikes shot up from the floor to impale Madara, but he evaded them easily. They continued trading techniques, with Naruto sticking to Hashirama’s arsenal of jutsu. He had already decided that he would save his own jutsu for when Madara would least expect it.

Half an hour passed, and they were at a standstill. He and Madara were both breathing heavily, but there wasn’t so much as a mark on either of them. He had tried every wood release jutsu he could think of at least twice, plus dozens of elemental attacks, but Madara had managed to avoid or counter all of them.

“I expected more from the great Hashirama-sama,” Madara taunted. “If you really want to kill me, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

Naruto had to fight to keep the grin off his face. The Uchiha had grown confident, lulled into a sense of security that came from the predictability of his opponent’s attacks. He wasn’t worried because he thought that he knew what was coming next.

In other words, he had him exactly where he wanted him.

“Sorry to disappoint,” he said aloud, “but let’s see what you think of this!” He formed a hasty hand seal. “Tajuu Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!”

He managed not to yelp this time as the clones appeared. Madara looked taken aback for a moment, but he recovered quickly, taking out one clone after another as if he had done it countless times before.

Naruto clicked his tongue in frustration. So, it hadn’t worked as well as he had hoped, but that wasn’t all that he had up his sleeve. There was no way Madara would see this next technique coming. After all, it hadn’t even been invented yet.

Using his clones as a cover, he rushed towards Madara, spinning chakra in his open palm as he ran.

“Take this! Rasengan!”

Madara’s eyes widened, but what happened next was not at all what he had expected. Lightning chakra leapt into the Uchiha’s hand and a sound he thought he would never hear again reverberated through the air.

Naruto stopped in his tracks, the Rasengan evaporating in his hand. Madara also froze, and he might have found the Uchiha’s dumbfounded expression funny if he wasn’t so busy being shell-shocked himself.

It was Madara who regained some level of composure first. “How do you have the Rasengan?” he demanded.

“Th-That’s my line, dattebayao! How do you have Chidori?”

“Dattebayo?” Madara’s eyes narrowed sharply, as if he was trying to see underneath his skin. “Naruto...?”

“How do you know my—?”

“I see,” Madara muttered to himself. “So, we were both sent back.”

“Sent back? What...?” Then realization hit. “Sasuke? Sasuke, is that you?”

Madara—or rather Sasuke—gave a terse nod. “Idiot.”

Naruto collapsed to his knees, fingernails digging into the dirt. How could this be? He was supposed to kill Madara, but now...

“You were trying to kill me, weren’t you?” Sasuke said with a knowing smirk. “To try to prevent the war and save the world like the idiotic hero that you are.”

“And what about you?” he said accusingly, feeling his own temper flare. “What’s your plan now that we’re back here?”

Sasuke gave a dismissive shrug. “My goal remains unchanged. I will destroy Konoha and killing the future First Hokage is a good way to start. You may not be Hashirama, but if you insist on standing in my way, I have no qualms with killing you.”

“Why?” His voice shook slightly. “Why are you still so hung up on revenge? Didn’t you hear anything senin-jii-chan said?”

Sasuke looked at him like he had lost his mind. “You call the Sage of Six Paths ‘senin-jii-chan?’”

Naruto continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “He told me that you and I are destined to save the world, but only if we work together! We messed up the first time, but we’ve both been given a second chance. Don’t waste it, Sasuke. There’s more to life than revenge.”

“There’s nothing else for me,” Sasuke replied bitterly. “After what happened to Itachi, revenge is all that I have left. Konoha will pay for what they did to him.”

Naruto fought the urge to shake him in frustration. “You say that you’ll destroy Konoha, but look around you, dattebayo!” He gestured wildly at their surroundings. “We’re in the warring states era, Sasuke! There isn’t even any Konoha to destroy!”

He paused as a sudden idea came to him. “Hey, earlier...or later, I guess—you said that Konoha was a rotted tree, right?”

Sasuke nodded warily. “So?”

“I know that the Konoha of our time had its problems, but here, in this time, it’s not too late to fix all of that. We can rebuild Konoha, starting from its roots.” He spoke excitedly as the idea gained traction in his mind. “We can protect the Uchiha clan and Itachi this time around. Don’t you see? We can start all over again, from the very beginning!”

Sasuke frowned, the way he always did when he was thinking deeply about something.

“Won’t you at least give it a chance? If things start to go badly, I’ll be the first to offer you my head.”

Sasuke continued to look at him appraisingly, but he could sense that he was wavering.

“Come on, you know I never go back on my word, dattebayo.” He extended his hand. “What do you say?”

He nearly whooped for joy when Sasuke took his hand in a firm grip. “Fine,” he said. “It’s your neck on the line.”

Naruto grinned broadly. The path before him had cleared once more. Someday, over fifty years from now, a young Naruto and Sasuke would again be born into this world. It was his job—as Hashirama—to ensure that their Konoha was different from the one he and Sasuke had grown up in. He would plant the seeds so that this time, the Children of Prophecy would save the world, rather than destroy it.

Chapter Text

Tobirama stood eyeing him and Sasuke. His expression could have chilled even Sunagakure’s sultry summer heat. “Absolutely not.”

“This is crazy, Hashirama,” Toka put in. “Even for you.”

Naruto glanced at Sasuke, who was glowering darkly. He elbowed him in the ribs and gave him a warning look. Going on a killing spree wouldn’t help anything.

He drew a deep breath, struggling for calm. “Look, won’t you two at least hear me out? We finally have a chance to achieve peace between the Uchiha and Senju. To end all this fighting and make sure that no more children die in wars. An alliance will make all of that come true. There’s no way I’m passing it up.”

“We can’t trust him, brother,” Tobirama said stubbornly. “You know what he’s like.”

Oh, I know, Naruto thought. You’re the one who has no idea, actually.

But Tobirama wasn’t finished yet. “He’s an Uchiha—and of everyone in that cursed, murderous clan, he’s the worst of them.”

Sasuke started towards him furiously, and Naruto jumped between them to avert disaster.

“That’s enough. I’ve already made my decision. The alliance is going forward, so I suggest you either get on board with it or keep your opinions to yourself. You and Toka can both go now.”

Tobirama stalked out of the room without another word, but Toka paused in the doorway and looked back at him. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

She closed the door behind her, and Naruto plopped into his chair, exhausted. He hoped so, too.

“I hate that man,” Sasuke said.

He looked up tiredly. “Can’t you try to get along with him? He hasn’t even done anything to you.”

“Madara hated him for killing his brother.”

“But you’re not Madara.”

Sasuke’s eyes flickered, but he said nothing.

“It feels so real, doesn’t it?” Naruto asked quietly.

“Hn.”

The silence stretched between them until the room was taut with it.

“So, what now?” Sasuke asked at last.

He grinned. “Now, we start a village.”

The Uchiha-Senju alliance was made official three days later. As he and Sasuke clasped hands in front of banners with their respective clan symbols, a sense of surrealness swept over him. This had been his dream for almost five years now. True, whenever he envisioned this moment, he hadn’t pictured them wearing long skirts and sporting manes of hair that put horses to shame, but that wasn’t the point—not really, anyway.

Sasuke had finally come back. He had brought him home, just like he had promised. He just wished that Sakura-chan and Kakashi-sensei were here to see it.

With the last of the paperwork done, the construction of Konoha began. Naruto put Hashirama’s wood release to good use, and within forty-eight hours, the beginnings of a small settlement could be seen sprouting up in the midst of the dense forest.

Creating buildings was a simple matter but finding people to fill them was proving to be more difficult. Apparently, people still didn’t trust that the Uchiha and Senju wouldn’t turn on each other at any moment and start a full-out war again.

But without more people—particularly civilians and the business they brought with them—it was only a matter of time before the village fell apart. But what could he do? What had the real Hashirama done? It was times like this when he wished that he had paid more attention in history class.

“Hashirama?” Toka’s voice jolted him from his thoughts. “Do you have a moment?”

“Sure,” he sighed. “What is it?”

She perched herself on the edge of his desk. “I have an idea for how we can draw more people to the settlement. Civilian business owners are concerned with increasing their profits, so if we offer to guard their outgoing shipments and supply routes free of cost, I think that they’d be willing to set up their businesses here. I’ve already talked with several owners in the area and they’ve shown interest in the proposition. We just need your approval to make it official.”

He was too stunned to respond for a moment.

“Well?” Toka pressed.

“I—I approve, datte—!” He coughed to cover his slip-up. Breaking that habit was turning out to be harder than he would have ever imagined. “I approve. Of course, I approve! But...” He hesitated. “Won’t we also need the Uchiha’s cooperation to pull this off?”

“That’s already taken care of. Tobirama didn’t want me to tell you this, but he went over personally to the Uchiha sector and asked the elders and Madara to agree to the proposal.”

“Why would he go so far? Why would either of you? I thought you didn’t agree with the alliance or the creation of the village.”

“We don’t,” Toka said flatly.

“Then why—?”

She sighed. “We may not agree with you, but we swore long ago to support you no matter what. If you’re really set on making this crazy dream of yours a reality, then we’ll aid you in any way we can.”

“Thank you,” he said, his throat feeling strangely tight.

He was all too aware that he wasn’t the one who had earned their trust and devotion. He was nothing but an imposter wearing Hashirama’s skin. Still, for the sake of changing the future, he needed all the help he could get. The shame he was feeling now was a small price to pay for saving the world.

            Toka’s plan worked even better than anticipated, and it wasn’t long before the fledgling settlement was teeming with shops, restaurants, and other small businesses. Civilians and shinobi alike flocked to the village, drawn by the promise of employment and access to fine goods. The village was flourishing, and within a couple of months, they had attracted the attention of the highest power in the Fire Nation.

            Gebu approached him, his entire form trembling with excitement. He held a small scroll in his hands. “It bears the seal of the daimyo, Hashirama-sama.”

            Naruto thanked him as he took the scroll and opened it. Once he finished reading, he looked up to find Gebu watching him, his eyes shining with anticipation.

            “The daimyo wishes to meet with me and visit Konoha,” he said. “He’s coming here next week.”

            “The daimyo is coming here?” Gebu’s expression was that of a young child who had just been handed a gift. “This is such an honor, Hashirama-sama! Oh, my! The preparations! We must make preparations! Yes, yes...there is much to do....” He trailed off, looking at him expectantly.

Naruto sighed. “You may go, Gebu.”

“Thank you, Hashirama-sama.” He bowed deeply and backed away, muttering something about whether roasted chicken or duck would be better for the welcoming feast.

Naruto quickly called Tobirama, Toka, and Sasuke to his office for a meeting. Once he had finished reading the contents of the scroll, Tobirama snorted derisively.

“That’s a politician for you. He makes it sound like it’s nothing more than a social call.”

“What does he really want then?”

“He wants to assess whether or not our settlement poses a threat to his power, of course. His visit will either end in a peace agreement or outright war.”

Naruto glanced at Toka. “Is that what you think too?”

She nodded. “We must do everything we can to show him that we have no desire to usurp his authority.”

“But at the same time,” Tobirama said, “we must prove that we are worthy of his respect and not a mere anthill that can be trampled over as he pleases.”

Naruto massaged his temples, feeling a headache coming on. “Right. And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”

Sasuke smirked. “Lucky for you, you’re not alone, idiot.”

Tobirama opened his mouth, no doubt to reprimand him for his disrespect, but Toka spoke first. “Madara’s right, Hashirama. We’ll be there with you the whole time. If there’s any rough patches, we’ll guide you through them.”

            A week later, the daimyo’s entourage arrived with more pomp and circumstance than any human could possibly merit. It didn’t escape Naruto’s notice that most of the attendants were armed and carried themselves like trained warriors. They were clearly prepared for a fight if the peace talks went sour.

At the head of the lengthy procession was the daimyo himself, comfortably ensconced in a golden sedan fringed with tiny bells that rang melodically with each step the pole-bearers took. He was a plump, baby-faced man dressed in a red robe and an extravagant headdress that looked to be at least five sizes too large for him.

Naruto and Sasuke, along with the elders of their clans, waited stiffly in their finest clothes to meet them. Naruto was the first to step forward.

            “Welcome to Konohagakure, daimyo-sama,” he said formally. “You honor us with your presence.”

            “Yes,” the daimyo sniffed. He looked around, and for an instant, Naruto could have sworn that his lip curled with distaste. “It’s certainly...quaint. Will you have someone show me to my room? I am simply exhausted from my journey.”

            Naruto wanted to ask what was so exhausting about being carried around in a cushioned chair, but he restrained himself. He nodded to two servants, and they led him to the prepared guest chambers.

            His first impression of the daimyo wasn’t good, and it didn’t improve during their conference the next day.

            “Harder,” the daimyo snapped, his jowls jiggling as he spoke. “Fan me harder.”

            His attendants—who stood on either side of him holding silk fans—hastened to obey.

            “Ah, me,” he sighed miserably. “Is there no relief from the heat of this place?”

“My apologies, daimyo-sama,” Naruto said, feigning sincerity, “but it is August.”

            From somewhere in the corner, he heard Sasuke break into a convenient coughing fit.

However, Tobirama only scowled at him. “If there’s anything we can do to increase your comfort, simply say the word and it will be done, daimyo-sama.”

“No, no.” The daimyo waved a fleshy hand languidly. “Come, let’s begin our talk.”

Naruto bit the inside of his cheek to keep from making a retort. His royal highness was no doubt thinking that the faster he got this over with, the faster he could leave their ‘quaint’ village behind and return to the opulence of his palace.

They seated themselves around a sturdy wooden table, and the daimyo fixed his beady gaze on him. “Hashirama-san, you are the founder of this village, correct?”

“Madara and I founded it together,” he answered stiffly.

The daimyo’s eyes drifted to Sasuke, then quickly moved away, as if looking for too long would somehow taint him. Naruto grit his teeth until his jaw hurt. He really didn’t like this man.

“I see,” he said at last. “And what is the current population of your village?”

“Our most recent reports indicate that we have approximately 900 citizens within the settlement walls,” Toka said smoothly. “However, that number is quickly rising. I expect that we will double our population within the month.”

The daimyo gave a jerky nod. “And of that number, how many are civilians?”

“More civilians are moving in every day, but we are still largely a shinobi village. Between our two clans and those that are non-clan affiliates, shinobi make up more than half of the village’s population.”

Naruto had to fight to keep from grinning as the daimyo gave another—even jerkier—nod and he began fidgeting in his chair nervously.

“However,” Toka continued, “it is important to understand that many are no longer serving actively, and that this number includes children as well.”

“A shinobi is a shinobi,” the daimyo said dismissively. “Everyone knows how your kind send your children to fight and die with no qualms. I don’t see why we would expect anything different from this village of yours.”

Naruto slammed his fist on the table. “Don’t talk as if you know everything about us! That’s why we built this village in the first place!”

The daimyo looked stunned and he moderated his tone as he continued. “With all due respect, daimyo-sama, Madara and I founded Konoha to achieve peace between our clans. We did it to stop the constant fighting and needless deaths. We want the children of our clans to be able to reach adulthood and have children of their own. That’s it. I can promise you that building a super shinobi army to attack you in your posh palace is the last thing on our minds.”

Tobirama and Toka were looking at him as if he had lost his mind, but he extended his hand across the table.

“Won’t you help make our dream a reality, daimyo-sama? We can have peace in the Fire Country at last.” He smiled cheekily. “Peace is good for business, isn’t it?”

The daimyo stared at him for a moment, then snorted. “Good for business, indeed.”

They shook hands, and he said, “You seem to be a fine man, Hashirama-san. I happen to have a daughter of marriageable age. If you were to wed, our alliance would become even stronger.”

Naruto was too taken aback to speak, but thankfully Tobirama took over. “We are honored by your offer, daimyo-sama, but unfortunately my brother is already betrothed.”

“That is of no consequence. A man of his position can easily take more than one wife.”

Tobirama inclined his head respectfully. “Your words are true, daimyo-sama, but his betrothed is a woman from the Uzumaki clan.”

The change in the daimyo was immediate. He blanched, and when he looked at him, Naruto thought he saw a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes. “Oh...yes, I see. That is too bad.”

“But Madara holds a similar status in the village,” Tobirama continued, “and he is yet to take a wife.”

Naruto looked at Tobirama and was surprised to see a glint of mischief in his eyes. Who would have thought that the stern-faced Second Hokage would have a sense of humor?

The daimyo glanced at Sasuke, who was glaring daggers at everyone, and quickly looked away again. “No...no, that is alright. I mean no offense, but my daughter is not a shinobi, so perhaps it would be better for her to marry a merchant or a diplomat.”

“Of course, daimyo-sama,” Tobirama agreed smoothly.

With the alliance settled, the daimyo was eager to end the meeting and retire to his guest chamber. Once he and his attendants had left, Sasuke stood angrily. “What was that? What were you thinking trying to marry me off to his pig daughter?”

Tobirama rolled his eyes. “You Uchihas and your hot blood. We would have insulted him if I didn’t make that offer. Besides, I knew he would decline.”

“Hey, it worked out, didn’t it?” Naruto said. “Nice thinking, Tobirama.”

“I only told the truth, brother.”

Naruto hid a grimace. Hashirama must have pushed his betrothal out of his mind, but now the memories had flooded back. Don’t worry about it now, he told himself firmly. Focus on the daimyo first, and save the rest for later.

Chapter Text

The alliance with the Land of Fire further solidified Konoha’s standing as a proper village, causing another surge in their population. Although still smaller than the Konoha of his time, it was beginning to resemble a real village.

Naruto took great joy in walking the streets which were both so similar and so different from the Konoha he knew. Everywhere he went, people bowed and greeted him with smiles on their faces. It was an odd feeling. Towards the end of his first life, people had finally stopped glaring and muttering under their breath when he walked by, but it had never seemed entirely real. In the back of his mind, he had always known that he was still a jinchuriki in their eyes, and that there was nothing he could do to change that.

But here, in this time, none of that meant anything. In the eyes of these people, he wasn’t a monster who had somehow become a hero. He was simply a hero.

He had just returned from one of his usual walks when Gebu entered his office, bearing a tray of scrolls and letters of correspondence. One of the scrolls on the top of the stack immediately caught his attention. The glossy sheen of the paper spoke to its high quality, and it bore a black seal that the Hashirama part of his mind recognized as belonging to the Shimura clan.

He looked at Gebu warningly. “Not a word of this to anyone. Not yet, anyway.”

“Of course, Hashirama-sama. “Also, regarding the reply to daimyo-sama...”

“I know, Gebu. I’ll have my response ready by tomorrow.” He picked up the glossy scroll and started to unfurl it. “You may leave now.”

A few minutes later he set the scroll aside and sat back in his chair with a tired sigh. It looked like it was time to have a talk with Sasuke.

He scrawled a hasty note and sent it away with a messenger pigeon, then went up to the Hokage Monument mountain to wait. He would need complete privacy, and there were too many interested ears inside the walls of the Senju and Uchiha compounds.

He didn’t have to wait long before Sasuke arrived, looking rather harried. It appeared that he wasn’t the only one having a hard time adjusting to being a clan head and running a village at the same time.

“What do you need, idiot?” With no one else around, they slipped back to using their old monikers.

“I got a message from the Shimura clan,” he said without preamble. “They want to become part of Konoha.”

Sasuke tensed. “Turn them away,” he said flatly.

“I thought about it, but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea. It might change things too much.”

“Wasn’t changing Konoha the whole point of all this?”

“I know, but just listen. If we change too much, you and I may never be born in the future, and then the prophecy will never be fulfilled. We need to make sure that our future selves exist so that they can save the world when the time comes.”

“I don’t care about any that,” Sasuke ground out. “As long as I can save Itachi and my clan, the rest doesn’t matter.”

Naruto resisted the urge to shake him. “Don’t you get it? If we change things so that you aren’t born, Itachi probably won’t be either. And besides, if we deviate from our timeline too much, all of our knowledge will mean nothing. We won’t know how to save your clan or Itachi when the time comes.”

“Fine,” Sasuke said, “then let me kill Danzo.”

“Kill him? Sasuke, Danzo’s just a kid right now. He’s probably barely old enough to be an Academy student.”

“I don’t care. I’m going to have to kill him anyway, so I might as well get it over with. It will be easier now than when he’s older.”

Naruto stared at his friend. Although he couldn’t necessarily fault his logic, that didn’t mean that he agreed with it.

“I can’t allow you to do that,” he said finally. “Regardless of what happened in our time, this Danzo hasn’t done anything wrong yet. We can’t just kill an innocent child, Sasuke. It goes against everything Konoha stands for.”

“What’s your plan then?” Sasuke asked angrily. “To talk things through with him and get him to have a change of heart? To turn that monster into some type of soft-hearted humanitarian? Yeah, right. Or will that change things too much?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said, meeting his friend’s gaze steadily. “But I know that killing Danzo now will make us no better than him. If he grows up and starts going down the wrong path again, I’ll allow you to kill him, but until then, I need to know that you won’t act recklessly on your own. Can I trust you with that, Sasuke?”

Sasuke glowered at him, but finally he gave a jerky nod. “Just don’t blame me if you end up regretting it. Remember, if this grand plan of yours doesn’t work...”

“I know, I know.” He gave an exaggerated grimace. “It’s my head on the line, right?”

Sasuke’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. “As long as we’re still clear, idiot.”

There was a brief lull in the conversation as they both fixed their eyes on the sprawling village below them. The sun was already beginning to set, painting the scenery in vivid shades of orange and red.

“There’s something else,” he continued. “I got a letter a few days ago from the daimyo. He wants us to select a leader to represent Konoha—for diplomatic purposes, I guess.”

“A Hokage.”

He nodded. It was hard to say what came next, but he had already made his decision. “I think it should be you.”

Sasuke looked at him sharply. “Me? Weren’t you just saying that we’re not supposed to change things too much? Surely even you know that Hashirama was the First Hokage, not Madara.”

“I know that,” he said with irritation, “but as long as it’s you, it should be ok. Think of it as payback for agreeing to go along with my plan.”

Sasuke fell quiet, and he could tell that he was thinking. Finally, he said, “I don’t want it.”

“What? But didn’t you want to be Hokage? Before all this happened, I mean.”

He shook his head. “Not anymore. I’ve got enough work to do already. I’ll leave the piles of paperwork to idiots like you.”

Naruto grinned, unwilling to admit how relieved he was. “Fine. But don’t be getting jealous when you see how cool I look with the hat on.”

“If you can manage to look cool in that get-up, I’ll personally congratulate you, idiot.”

“I’m holding you to that,” he shot back. “Just you wait, dattebayo.”

They sensed the chakra signature at the same time, and they both stiffened. It was Tobirama.

“What are you doing up here, brother?” He sent a suspicious glance in Sasuke’s direction. “Toka’s already realized that you’re gone, and she’s not pleased.”

Naruto dragged himself to his feet. “I was just about to head back.” He turned to Sasuke. “Thanks for meeting with me. I’ll see you around.”

And with one last regretful look at the panoramic view, he started reluctantly down the mountain to face the wrath of the woman who was even scarier than Sakura-chan.

Chapter Text

He found Toka scribbling away furiously at his desk, her petite form nearly obscured by piles of documents. She smiled sweetly as he entered, and it was at that moment that he knew it was over for him. She wasn’t just displeased, she was irate.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up.”

He gulped and took a few steps back. “Sorry, Toka, I was with Madara.”

She stood, clearly preparing to unleash a tirade on him for shirking his duties, but Tobirama put his hand up to allay her.

“What were you doing with him, brother?”

“We, uh—” He glanced nervously at Toka. She didn’t look happy, but she had sat back down with a small ‘hmph.’ It appeared that he was saved for now. “We were talking about who should take the position of Hokage.”

Tobirama opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly blurted out, “We decided that I should do it.”

A rare expression of surprise crossed the other man’s face. “And Madara agreed to that?”

He nodded.

Tobirama crossed his arms, looking thoughtful. “This is unexpected. I thought that you would want Madara to do it.”

“That is what I wanted...at first, at least. But he told me that I should be the one to do it. You don’t give him enough credit, you know.”

Tobirama gave a noncommittal hum, and Naruto rolled his eyes. “I don’t get why you two can’t just get along. You’re more alike than you think.”

From the look on Tobirama’s face, you would have thought he had just said something sacrilegious—like ramen wasn’t the best food in the world, or something.

“We are nothing alike.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Sure, sure, whatever you say.”

Toka snorted and quickly clamped her hand over her mouth. He smiled at her hopefully but was met with nothing but a frigid stare. His shoulders slumped in defeat. It looked like he wasn’t off the hook just yet.

Tobirama, having caught the exchange, sent him a meaningful smile. “Well, that’s all I wanted to know.” He headed for the door with a casual wave of his hand. “Toka, you can go ahead and continue with what you were saying.”

“N-No, wait—!” he began desperately, but Tobirama was already gone, leaving him at the mercy of Toka’s wrath. So much for the so-called ‘bond between brothers.’

He glanced at Toka and chuckled nervously. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you with all of my work, but it was important, and—”

“It’s alright,” she said in that scarily serene voice that told him it was definitely not alright. “I know you’ll make up for lost time, won’t you?”

He nodded glumly as he eyed the bottomless stacks of paperwork. “Yes, ma’am.”

The Hokage ceremony took place two weeks later. The day was oppressively hot, but that didn’t stop the villagers from coming in droves to watch the proceedings. They pressed in close around the mokuton platform he had created, seemingly heedless of the sun beating down on them.

Naruto stood in the center of the platform, dressed in a formal red robe and feeling as if he was being seared like a stick of meat at Yakuniku Q. It took all of his willpower to focus on reciting the oath that Toka had helped him memorize, but he managed to get through it without mishap.

Finally, Tobirama mounted the stage, cradling the Hokage’s hat in his arms. “With this mantle,” he addressed the crowd in a clear, loud voice, “Hashirama Senju, assumes the title of Hokage—leader and protector of Konohagakure. As Hokage, he is to guard the village and its people with his life and lead them with honor and integrity. The citizens of Konohagakure and the daimyo’s representative stand here today as witnesses and guarantors of this ceremony. Senju-sama, if you are willing to accept this title and the responsibilities that accompany it, please kneel.”

Naruto did as he was instructed, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling as Tobirama placed the hat on his head. Once the deed was done, Tobirama helped him rise and clapped a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Well done, brother. There’s no one better to lead us than you.”

Naruto thanked him mechanically and turned to face the cheering villagers. It was strange. This had been his dream since childhood, but now that he had reached it, the victory felt hollow. As he looked out at the sea of faces, he hardly recognized any of them. These were not his friends and comrades—those who had watched him grow, who knew his struggles and all that he had overcome. None of these people understood what being Hokage meant to him. No one did except...

His eyes landed on Sasuke, sitting stiff-backed with the other clan heads, his face expressionless. That’s right, he reminded himself. It didn’t matter that this was nothing like the Hokage ceremony he had always envisioned or that no one but Sasuke was here to see it.

He had already decided to discard the identity of Naruto Uzumaki and live as Hashirama Senju. That was the price to pay for saving the future. He would do what he must, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t keep hoping for the day when his own face—Naruto’s face—would also come to rest upon the Hokage Monument.

With the ceremony finished, he climbed down from the stage and walked amongst the villagers, talking with them and receiving their congratulations. The crowd eventually dispersed around dusk and he returned to the Senju compound. The clan heads and other guests of honor were already gathered there, mingling and drinking sake. Senju attendants bustled about, working diligently to keep everyone’s cups filled to the brim.

Sasuke Sarutobi—head of the Sarutobi clan—was the first to approach him. He was a thin, wiry man who seemed to be made of nothing but sinew and muscles. He extended a sun-browned hand with a warm smile. “Congratulations, Hokage-sama. This is certainly a momentous day.”

Naruto shook it firmly, hoping the grin on his face didn’t look too stupid. He couldn’t help it. Being called ‘Hokage’ just made him so darn happy.

“Thank you, Sarutobi-san.” He was grateful that he wasn’t expected to use the man’s first name—that would have just felt weird.

His gaze skittered to the small boy standing at the man’s side and his smile softened. Naruto still had a hard time calling him anything but ‘jii-chan’ in his mind, even though the moniker was hardly appropriate for the six-year-old boy in front of him.

“It’s good to see you again, Hiruzen.” He knelt down so that he was at eye level with the boy. “What did you think of the ceremony?”

 “It was wonderful, Hokage-sama! I will never forget it as long as I live!”

“Is that so?” He ruffled the boy’s hair fondly. “I’m glad to hear it. Who knows? It might be you up there someday being given the hat.”

Hiruzen’s eyes widened. “You really think so, Hokage-sama?”

“If you train hard, anything’s possible,” he said with a smile.

After the Sarutobi head and his son had retreated, the head of the Shimura clan stood and came toward him.

“Hokage-sama.” The grudging inclination of his head could scarcely be called a bow. “Please accept my congratulations on behalf of the Shimura clan.”

Naruto knew that it wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t help disliking the man from the moment he had met him. Abe Shimura was stern-faced, with sharp, beady eyes that always seemed to be calculating the worth of those around him. All in all, he resembled another member of his clan too much for Naruto’s comfort.

Still, he forced himself to put on a congenial smile. “Thank you, Shimura-san. I’m honored by the support of you and your clan.”

They exchanged pleasantries for a little while longer, but at last, Shimura excused himself and slunk away to talk with the daimyo’s attending representative. Naruto watched him go with no small amount of relief.

“Your thoughts are showing on your face, idiot.”

He spun around and found Sasuke looking at him with an expression of disapproval. “Sas—I mean, Madara!”

Sasuke’s scowl deepened, but he bent forward in a stiff bow. They had an audience and they had to keep appearances. “I and the Uchiha clan offer my deepest congratulations, Hokage-sama.”

The words sounded mocking coming from Sasuke’s lips, but he didn’t care. Of all the congratulations he had received today, this one meant the most by far.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” He returned the bow, sending murmurs rippling through the room. “Please continue to support me from now on, Uchiha-san.”

We’ll do it for sure, he vowed silently. Together, we’ll save the future.

Sasuke stared at him contemplatively, and he wondered if he was thinking the same thing that he was.

“What is it?” he asked at last, unable to keep his curiosity at bay.

“I was right.”

His brow furrowed. “Right about what?”

Sasuke smirked and leaned forward to speak in his ear. “You really do look stupid in that get-up.”

He opened his mouth to retort but bit it back at the last moment when he noticed the room’s occupants watching them with interest.

Sasuke bowed again, the smirk still fixed on his face. “Take care, Hokage-sama.”

Naruto clenched his fists, struggling for control as Sasuke ambled off to another table. Sometimes keeping up appearances really sucked.

Chapter Text

As the blistering heat of Konoha summer grudgingly gave way to the cooler climate of fall, Naruto settled into his new position as Hokage. Although he had gleefully handed over the management of the Senju to Tobirama, he had been horrified to discover that the Hokage’s hat came with even larger and more tedious stacks of paperwork. Toka, who served as his unofficial secretary and advisor, assisted him when she could, but Sasuke only taunted him about how he had gotten the short end of the stick until he wanted to punch his pretty Uchiha face.

            Meanwhile, the village continued to grow and flourish. Civilians trickled through the gates in increasingly large numbers, and several more clans joined hands in friendship with Konoha. Among these were the Aburame, the Akimichi, and the Hyuga, as well as a multitude of smaller clans that he didn’t recognize the names of.

            From the vantage point of his office, he loved looking down and watching the villagers mill around—harried looking mothers, battle-hardened shinobi, laughing children, stiff-gaited elderly folk. The village and the people in it were different from his time, but this was still his beloved Konoha. Regardless of the era, this was the place he called home—the place he had vowed to protect.

            “You look like you’re far away.”

            He turned to Toka with an embarrassed grin. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

            She sat on the edge of his desk, looking him up and down with a scrutinizing gaze.

            “Wh-What is it?” he asked nervously.

            She finally nodded to herself with something like satisfaction. “I wanted to make sure you looked all right for your meeting with the Hyuga. But you look passable, and”—she leaned close to him and breathed in deeply—“you smell alright, too.”

            He felt his cheeks turn tomato red. “Th-Thanks...I think?”

            “Here.” She held out a wooden comb and he looked at her in confusion.

“Uh...what’s that for?”

She rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Your hair, obviously. Just take it. It looks fine now, but you never know if you may need it.”

“Right,” he said as he stuffed the comb into his pocket. One of the first things he had learned in this era was that you never argued with Toka. Not if you valued your life, anyway.

            “You know the meeting is at twelve, right?” she said. “You don’t want to be late.”

            “I know,” he said, a bit petulantly. “Even I can manage to arrive on time when I want to, you know.”

            She only looked at him with an unimpressed gaze, and he slumped back in his chair. “I got it. I won’t be late—I promise.”

            Those had been his words, but time got away from him, and he ended up having to travel by rooftops to make it there before noon. It was a particularly gusty day, and at the pace he was going, it wasn’t long before his hair was indistinguishable from a rat’s nest. As he stopped just out of sight of the Hyuga compound entrance and set to work with the comb Toka had given him, he didn’t know whether he was more offended by her lack of faith, or grateful for her foresight.

            Once his hair was sufficiently tamed, he boldly approached the gate. The two guards wore the stern, emotionless expressions that most members of the Hyuga seemed to be born with. They bowed and intoned, “Welcome, Hokage-sama,” in eerie unison.

The compound itself looked almost exactly like he remembered, but he supposed that shouldn’t surprise him. If there was any clan that was known for upholding tradition and resisting change, it was the Hyuga. At last, he arrived at the main house—an elegant, traditional-style building slightly larger than the rest with lush gardens surrounding it.

            The current clan head—Hiroshi Hyuga—was waiting for him on the veranda. He could have been Hiashi’s clone, and Naruto couldn’t help feeling mild admiration for the strength of the Hyuga genes.

            The man bowed elegantly, his manner the epitome of decorum. “Greetings, Hokage-sama. It is an honor to have you in my home.”

“Please, Hyuga-san, there’s no need to be so formal. We’ll be working together from now on, after all.”

The man nodded. “Of course, Hokage-sama. Please come in. I have tea prepared for us.”

            Naruto slipped off his sandals and followed him through the door. The interior of the home was even more exquisite than the outside. Artfully woven tatami mats covered the floors, and sturdy wooden beams studded the walls and framed each doorway. The wood was a stunning black walnut—fine-grained and carefully oiled to bring out the rich color.

He had long since gotten used to such thoughts popping into his head. Hashirama, unsurprisingly, had been something of a wood fanatic, and Naruto had inherited the interest with his knowledge and memories. Basically, what ramen was to Naruto Uzumaki, wood was to Hashirama Senju. He didn’t have a problem with it, since the two were mutually exclusive. Now if Hashirama had been obsessed with barbequed meat, for example, that would have been a different story.  

            They seated themselves around a low table spread with cups of steaming aromatic tea and fancy confections that glistened like jewels. Some might have said that they were too beautiful to eat, but thankfully Naruto wasn’t plagued by any such silly notions. He was already in the process of piling them onto his plate when Hiroshi cleared his throat delicately.

“Hokage-sama, before we get started, I would like to request my son’s presence. The responsibility of leading the Hyuga will fall on his shoulders one day, and I would like him to learn all he can while he’s young. Would that be alright with you?”

“Of course,” he said around a mouthful of sweets. “The more the merrier. These are delicious by the way.”

Hiroshi smiled wanly. “Thank you, Hokage-sama.”

The boy—probably about twelve or thirteen years old—was a miniature of his father in stiffness and mannerisms. His dark brown hair swished around his shoulders as he bowed.  

            “It’s an honor to meet you, Hokage-sama. I am Ichiro Hyuga.”

            Naruto forced a smile. The boy reminded him painfully of Neji. “It’s nice to meet you, Ichiro-kun. Please, have a seat.”

            Ichiro sat down in one fluid, graceful movement. “Thank you, Hokage-sama.”

            “Well, let’s get started, shall we?” Naruto said. “First, I—”

            “Nii-san!” The door was flung open and a little girl burst into the room, her dark braids flapping wildly. “Guess what? I found a bird’s nest and there’s three eggs in it!”

            She stopped short when she saw him and gave a small, nervous ‘eep.’

            “Sayuri,” Hiroshi said severely, “enough of this foolishness. Can’t you see that we have an important guest?”

            The girl—Sayuri—gave a bow of impressive grace for one so young. “I beg your pardon,

Hokage-sama.” Her voice quavered and it was clear that she was fighting back tears. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please excuse me.”

            She closed the door and disappeared from sight.

            “I apologize, Hokage-sama,” Hiroshi said. “My daughter still has much to learn. I’m afraid that she’s not at all like Ichiro was at that age.”

He clamped a hand on his son’s shoulder proudly. Ichiro’s face was expressionless, the iron mask of the Hyuga, but he was certain that he saw a flash of indignation in his pale eyes.

“It’s alright,” he said, finding his voice at last. “She didn’t do any harm.”

“Thank you for your understanding.” Hiroshi passed a plate of small cakes toward him. “Please try one. Our chefs are quite famous for them.”

            He took one of the sweets absently, but his appetite had vanished. After what seemed like an eternity, the meeting finally came to an end. As he ambled aimlessly through twilight-dyed streets, he couldn’t stop thinking about little Sayuri and how it was only a matter of time before she became a caged bird. He had promised Neji that he would get rid of the seal—promised that no more children would end up like his friend had. Now that he was Hokage, fulfilling that promise was within his grasp. He could do it, and yet...

            With a start, he realized that he had somehow ended up on the Hokage’s mountain. It appeared that no matter what era it was, this was still the place he went when he needed to think. He didn’t know how long he had been there, but it was already dark when Toka found him. She approached with the noiseless steps of a trained kunoichi and seated herself beside him.

“Here to berate me for shirking my duties again?” he said, making an effort at lightheartedness.

She laid a gentle hand on his arm, and he tensed automatically. “What’s wrong, Hashirama?”

            He looked at her with a searching gaze. If there was anyone that he could trust for advice about this, it was Toka. Sasuke—even though they were bound together by their past—wouldn’t understand his dilemma. He hadn’t allowed him to kill Danzo, so how could he ask him to understand that he wanted to risk everything to keep a promise? Tobirama was his brother in this world, and he had grown quite fond of him, but in the other man’s eyes, he was the perfect eldest son and heir of the Senju who could do no wrong. That was how the entire clan, and now the entire village saw him. Toka was the only one who was different. Ever since that day...

            “Congratulations, Hashirama-sama.”

            “Great success...leading your first battle...”

            “Butsuma-sama must be proud...”

He waded through the crowd of well-wishers, nodding and smiling distractedly, until he found who he was looking for. A girl—halfway between childhood and maturity—with dark unkempt hair that hid her face. She sat alone on a bench with the defeated, listless posture of someone who had lost everything. He feared for a moment that grief had already reduced her to an empty shell, but when she raised her eyes, they were alive and dancing with fury.

“Have you come to get my congratulations, Hashirama-sama?” she spat. “Or perhaps to tell me how very lucky I am that Butsuma-sama has decided to raise me himself now that my father is dead?”

“Th-That’s not—” He drew a deep breath. “I came to apologize. Your father...he saved my life. A child attacked me during the battle—he was so small, even younger than Tobirama. I hesitated, and...” The words stuck in his throat. “I would have died if it weren’t for Akitomo-san.”

Toka said nothing, only continued to gaze at him unnervingly.

He cleared his throat. “That’s all I wanted to say...and that it’s ok if you hate me and yell at me all you want. I deserve it. As the battalion leader, it was my job to protect my men, but I failed.”

She stood and came so close that their faces were nearly touching. “You’re right,” she said softly. “You failed, and now my father is dead. But as his daughter, it’s my duty to ensure that his death isn’t in vain.”

Her eyes burned with determination, and for a moment, he—who had never felt outmatched by anyone—could do nothing but stare in awe.

“From this day on,” she spoke with quiet assurance, “I will stand by your side and make sure that you become the man my father wanted you to be. I will do whatever it takes so that you won’t fail others like you failed him.”

He studied the girl before him in amazement. No one had ever dared to say such things to him before. And despite the incredulity of her claims, he couldn’t help believing her.

Acting on impulse, he bowed deeply. “Thank you, Toka-san. I’ll be in your care.”

She smiled then—or at least the corners of her lips twitched in some semblance of the gesture. “You just may regret this day for the rest of your life, Hashirama Senju.”

And then she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving him staring after her and wondering what on earth he had gotten himself into.

“Hashirama?” Toka was still watching him with concern. He knew it was stupid and possibly even dangerous, but if it was Toka, she might know what to do.

            “What if...?” he began haltingly. “What if you messed something up badly and got the chance to fix it, but in order to fix it, you had to make a choice that you knew was wrong? What would you do?”

            She stared at him, her dark eyes glinting thoughtfully. “It would depend on the situation,” she answered at last, “but I know what you would do.”

            He frowned. “What?”

            She smirked as if she knew some great secret. “You’ve never been the type to think things through. You do whatever’s the right thing, and then deal with the rest as it comes.”

            Hashirama’s mindset was disturbingly like his own, but that was when things had been simpler. Nothing was simple anymore—not since Madara blew everything up and they had been sent hurtling back in time.

            He stood and brushed himself off. “Thanks for listening, Toka. I guess I should head back down. The paperwork isn’t going to do itself, after all.”

            He was startled when she tackled him in a hug. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re not alone.” Her voice was muffled as she spoke into his chest. “You have me and Tobirama and even Madara.”

            He smiled and patted her head as Hashirama would have done. “I know. Thank you.”

            He wasn’t alone, but no one else could know the burden that he carried. He couldn’t risk destroying the future. The Naruto of this world would be born someday, but until then, his promise to Neji would have to wait.

Chapter Text

Naruto stared at the missive in his hand. The fine vellum scroll was stamped with an ink seal picturing two overlapping stones. Iwagakure’s symbol. His heart pounded as he unfurled the scroll and scanned its contents. Finally, he looked up to where Sasuke, Tobirama, and Toka were waiting expectantly.

“They’ve accepted our offer for a treaty,” he said without preamble. “They want me to come to Iwa to make it official.”

A powerful wave of relief washed over him. It appeared that they hadn’t messed things up—not yet at least. Iwagakure had been founded when it was supposed to be, and the non-aggression pact would be signed as it had been in the original timeline. He knew this much, not from history class, but from old man Onoki’s stories. The Tsuchikage was a child now—living somewhere inside Iwa’s stone walls. He couldn’t picture the ornery old man as a snot-nosed brat, but he hoped to see it if he got the chance.

“We’ll make preparations to leave first thing tomorrow,” he continued. “Madara, I’d like you to come with me. Can you be ready?”

Sasuke nodded. “I’ll speak with the Uchiha elders tonight.”

Tobirama stepped forward. “I will accompany you as well, brother.”

Naruto shook his head. “I need you and Toka here in Konoha to take care of things while we’re gone.”

Tobirama looked as if he might argue, but Naruto added quickly, “That’s an order from your Hokage.”

Tobirama met his eyes for a long moment before bowing his head reluctantly. Toka followed his example, looking no less disgruntled.

“Very well,” Tobirama said stiffly. “I’ll arrange for a group of our best shinobi to go with you.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but Tobirama swiftly shut him down. “Brother, I cannot allow you to go into an unknown shinobi village with no one besides Madara.” He spoke the Uchiha’s name with undisguised contempt.

“We’ll be fine. We’re both more than capable of protecting ourselves.”

Tobirama shook his head. “It isn’t just about your safety. You are the Hokage, brother. Some level of pomp and circumstance befits your position. You must ensure that Iwa respects you from the start.”

Naruto sensed that not even a Hokage’s order would get him out of this one. “Do what you want,” he sighed. “So long as they’re ready and at the gate by first light.

“Gebu,” he called. “Come in here, please.”

Moments passed and the door remained closed. Naruto frowned. Gebu always stood at attention outside his office. The other man said it was his duty and Naruto had finally given up trying to persuade him otherwise.

He was on the verge of going to check when the door flung open. Gebu appeared in the doorway, a definite expression of panic on his face. “Forgive me, Hokage-sama, I—”

He was pushed aside by a woman who strode into the room as if she owned the place, the skirt of her cerulean dress flowing behind her. She was past middle-aged, but still pretty, with noble features and dark auburn hair coiled in a bun at the nape of the neck. Sasuke, Tobirama, and Toka tensed, ready to attack, but Naruto gave a slight shake of his head. The woman wasn’t emitting any killing intent, although the severe look she gave the room and its occupants was almost as bad. It was as if she was measuring everything she saw—and finding it sorely lacking.

Three other women trailed after her. One was slender with bright red hair styled in twin buns on either side of her head. She wore a pale blue veil that covered her face. The other two were stout women with simple dresses of the same cut and cloth. Attendants, most likely.

“How did you get in here?” Tobirama demanded. “You must schedule an appointment to have an audience with the Hokage.”

“Yes, yes,” the woman said dismissively, “that’s what your serving boy said too, but I have no time for such nonsense.” Her voice sounded of refinement and manners—he was almost certain now that she came from nobility.

“You overstep yourself,” Tobirama said sharply. “I must ask you to leave immediately and schedule an appointment.”

“You are the one who oversteps yourself,” the woman said, her tone matching, even surpassing, Tobirama’s acidity. “I did not come all the way from Uzushiogakure to be sent away like a common civilian.”

“Uzushiogakure?” Naruto blurted out without thinking.

The woman’s cool gaze shifted to him. “It is an honor to meet you, Hashirama-sama. I am Majira—of Uzushiogakure’s Uzumaki clan.” She nodded towards the veiled woman, who bowed gracefully. “This is Lady Mito, your betrothed.”

He felt his eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Lady...Mito?”

“Indeed, Hashirama-sama. We have come to ask that you return with us to Uzushiogakure for the wedding ritual.”

Thankfully Tobirama stepped in and saved him from having to respond. “Forgive my earlier impudence, Lady Majira. I am Tobirama—Hashirama’s brother. We are honored that you have come such a long way, but I am afraid that Hashirama’s responsibilities as Hokage prevent him from being able to complete the marriage contract at this time. Perhaps in a few months—”

“How much longer do you intend to keep Lady Mito waiting?” Majira snapped. “Butsuma-sama promised ten years hence that Hashirama-sama would be wed to Lady Mito as soon as he was grown. Looking at Hashirama-sama, I would say that time is long past. Have you no thought for how you humiliate Lady Mito?”

The veil wavered slightly, the only sign that there was living, breathing human under there.

“No,” Majira continued, “we are tired of your excuses and delays. The wedding will take place immediately, or you shall count Uzushiogakure as one of your enemies for abuse of your word. That is a message directly from Taji-sama—Lady Mito’s father and our village head.”

Tobirama’s stiffness was the only indication that he didn’t appreciate being threatened in such a way. “We meant no offense, Majira-sama,” he said in a placating tone. “It will be as you say. Hashirama is leaving tomorrow for Iwagakure to establish a treaty, but I give you my word that they will be wed upon his return. Will that be acceptable?”

“I suppose it will have to do,” Majira replied testily. “But know that we will not be swayed. The wedding shall take place upon Hashirama-sama’s return, or we shall cut all ties with your clan and your village.”

“Of course.” Tobirama inclined his head in respectful acquiesce.

“Well,” Majira spoke briskly, “now that matters have been settled, I would very much like to retire to our rooms and rinse off the travel dust.”

Gebu appeared with a speed and stealth that rivaled even the most experienced shinobi.

“If you will follow me,” he said with a deep bow.

He led the women out of the office and Naruto stared after them, wondering what on earth had just happened.

Tobirama clapped a hand on his shoulder. “It couldn’t be helped, brother. For the sake of the village, we do what must be done. But fear not, I’ve heard that she’s a pretty woman, and intelligent too. I’m certain you will find each other suitable. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must make arrangements for those who will accompany you.”

“And I must go to speak with the elders,” Sasuke said, turning sharply and following closely on Tobirama’s heels.

Toka wasn’t going anywhere, though. She planted her hands on her hips, fixing him with a stern look. “Your leaving can’t be helped, but don’t get any ideas about leaving what is rightly your work for Tobirama and me. I want all of this paperwork done by tomorrow or I will drag you back to this desk by your ear and force you to sit and finish it before you set foot out of this village. Is that clear?”

He nodded, too dazed to protest. Those women had come in like a storm, turned his entire life upside down, then left as if nothing had happened. Him—married? It was almost unfathomable.

A small smile spread over Toka’s face—and a shiver ran down his spine as he realized that she had read his thoughts. “No need to look so terrified, Hashirama. I hear most wives are quite reasonable. If you behave yourself, she may even see to it that you’re fed and groomed regularly.” She flashed him a cheeky grin and flounced away.

Naruto shook himself with an effort. “We do what must be done,” he murmured, picking up his pen and resuming his never-ending battle.

It was after dark when he sensed a familiar presence on his balcony. He pushed back the document he was reading with a sigh. “You might as well come in.”

Sasuke ducked through the door frame, his tall figure silhouetted by the full moon. “You’re still at it?”

“Toka,” was all he said by way of an explanation. Sasuke gave an understanding, slightly sympathetic nod.

“Did you finish things on your end?” Naruto asked.

“Masao’s agreed to lead the clan while I’m gone and keep the elders in check.”

Masao was Kagami’s father—Shisui’s grandfather. Sasuke said that he was similar to Shisui in both disposition and beliefs. Of everyone in the clan, Masao was the only one Sasuke trusted without reservation.

“Are you really going to go through with it?” Sasuke asked at length. There was no need to ask what ‘it’ was.

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. “I don’t have a choice. Not just for Konoha, but for the the whole world. For the future.”

“It doesn’t sound much like you,” Sasuke said. From his tone, he couldn’t tell whether the words were spoken with disapproval or not.

Naruto chuckled and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I guess it doesn’t, huh?”

“I always thought you would marry Sakura.”

“Sakura-chan?” He snorted a laugh. “Why would you think that?”

Sasuke shrugged noncommittally. “You loved her, didn’t you? You were always chasing her around with puppy-dog eyes when we were on Team 7.”

Naruto grinned at the memory. Ah, those had been the days. “I did love Sakura-chan as a friend—a sister even—but not like that, not anymore. I’m not sure if I ever did. Besides,” he continued, “Sakura-chan only ever had eyes for you.”

Sasuke looked startled. “Still? But I tried to kill her.”

“What can I say?” he shrugged. “She has a thing for pretty-faced emo boys and when she’s set her mind on something, she’s even more stubborn than I am. If we had stayed in that time, she would have dragged you to the altar one way or another.”

“Ridiculous,” Sasuke scoffed, but he didn’t sound completely convinced.

“In any case,” Naruto said firmly, “I’ve already made my decision. I’m marrying Mito, so if you came to talk me out of it, you’re wasting your time.”

“Nothing like that. I just wanted to make sure you understood what you were doing. You can be an idiot, after all.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He had a strange way of showing it, but he knew that deep down his friend was worried about him. “Thanks, Sasuke. I know what I’m doing.”

“Whatever,” Sasuke said irritably. “As long as you understand.” And then, without so much as a goodnight, he climbed back onto the balcony and disappeared into the shadows.

Alone once more, Naruto turned in his chair to look out the window. The moon was full and pearly white. It reminded him of Hinata-chan, with her dark hair and pale eyes. During the war, something had begun to flutter in his chest whenever he thought of her. It might have grown into love one day—but now he would never find out.

He clenched his fists until nails dug into flesh. There was no use thinking about what might have been. He would marry Mito—he had to.

He would do what must be done.