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.

Chapter Text

The sun was just beginning to break over the Hokage Monument’s mountain when Naruto and Sasuke arrived at the gate. A group of about ten shinobi were already gathered there, all with Konoha forehead protectors and matching battle gear. Apparently the standardly issued green flak jackets didn’t come into use until later.

            The men snapped to attention at the sight of him. There was a fair contingent from the Senju, of course, but nearly all of Konoha’s major clans were represented. He was relieved to see that there were also two Uchiha members. It seemed that even Tobirama, prejudiced as he was, saw the wisdom of including them to prevent dissension.

            As he looked the group over, he could see why Tobirama had chosen them. They were all men who were well-known within their clans. The only one that was a mystery to him was a woman at the end of the line. She was pretty, with dark hair worn in a plait down her back and fiery eyes.

            “I don’t think we’ve met,” he told her. “What’s your name?”

            “I am called Tomoya, Hokage-sama.”

            “What clan are you from?”

            “I have no clan or family name to speak of, but I promise that my skills will not disappoint you.”

            He hid a smile. She spoke defensively, as if her not being a member of a clan would bother him. In truth, he cared nothing for such things. After all, he had lived most of his life without knowing he was part of a clan at all.

            “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tomoya-san. I’m glad to have you traveling with us.” He looked at the others. “Well then, let’s get going, shall we?”

            The men bowed in unison. “Hai, Hokage-sama.”

He turned his back on them with a weary sigh. He still hadn’t gotten used to all of the bowing and scraping in this era, and he didn’t know if he ever would.

They made good time, leaping through the treetops of the Fire Country’s dense forests in tight formation. No one spoke much, which was probably for the best. They were shinobi, and they would work together as their mission required, but memories of when they had fought on opposite sides of the battlefield rather than beside each other were still too fresh to expect more than that.

There was an undercurrent of barely veiled tension between the Senju and Uchiha men, which was to be expected, as well as between the Hyuga and Uchiha. More surprising was the uneasiness that Tomoya radiated whenever any of the Uchiha—especially Sasuke—came too close. Most of the time, she seemed content to act as if they didn’t exist.

They traveled at a steady pace, only stopping briefly at noon for water and ration bars, then continuing again until it was time to set up camp for the night.

Some of the men went hunting and returned with a couple of rabbits and several squirrels. After draining the blood and skinning them, they handed their bounties to Tomoya, claiming some nonsense about a woman’s touch with cooking.

Naruto was on the brink of reprimanding them, but Tomoya seemed happy enough to accept the work. The men sat around eagerly as she prepared some sort of stew and ladled it into bowls.

Naruto took his gratefully, but nearly spit out his first spoonful on impulse. He didn’t think he had ever tasted anything so vile. The men around him wore similar looks of distaste, but Tomoya’s beaming face kept them silent.  After that the men suddenly discovered new culinary talents and Tomoya was relieved of the burden of cooking supper.

The first several days passed peacefully enough, but it was on the fifth day of their journey that the first sign of real trouble came.

Naruto heard a branch crack and looked back to see Tomoya tumbling through midair. Sasuke—who was closest to her—darted forward and grabbed her. No sooner had they landed than another sharp crack rang through the air. He thought it was a second branch breaking, but the red mark on Sasuke’s cheek told a different story.

“Let go!” Tomoya hissed. She struggled violently until he dropped her, then stalked off into the forest.

The other Uchiha men—their names were Taizo and Jintaro—started after her, their faces stony.

“Leave her alone,” Sasuke said.

“But Madara-sama,” Taizo protested, “she can’t be allowed to get away with such disrespect.”

“I said, leave her alone,” he said tiredly. “I’m sure Madara deserved it,” he added under his breath.

A few of the men looked at him oddly, but Naruto just grinned and put a reassuring hand on Sasuke’s shoulder. “Let me handle this.” He looked to the others. “You all can take a short break. It’s nearing noon anyways.”

He set off after Tomoya and found her sitting on a boulder, her posture so stiff she was all but bristling. Her head jerked up at his approach, eyes shooting fire that said she was ready for a fight. The fire dimmed when she saw him, but only slightly. It now resembled a hearth fire, where before it had been a raging inferno.

“If you’ve come to make me apologize,” she said tightly, “you’re wasting your time, Hokage-sama. I will accept any punishment for disrupting the mission, but I will not apologize to that man.”

He fought to keep the grin from his face. He knew that he had liked this woman from the start. She reminded him of Sakura, in an odd way.

“I didn’t come here for that. Like Madara said, I’m sure he probably deserved it. Do you mind if I join you?”

She looked at him blankly, then shook her head and made space for him to sit beside her.

“You really don’t like them, do you?” he said. “The Uchiha—I mean.”

“Hate would be a better word,” she answered stiffly. “They killed many of my friends and family—including my mother.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know it doesn’t make it any better, but I am sorry.”

Her frank stare seemed to be attempting to bore through to his innermost thoughts. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“You and your clan have lost many people at their hands as well. How can you tolerate, even befriend them?”

He smiled and leaned back to look at the canopy of foliage overhead. “A wise man once told me that hate only breeds more hate. I just figure I would much rather be a part of breaking the cycle than continuing it. When I think of how future generations might not have to go through what we did....” He shrugged. “My choice is obvious.”

“You really are an amazing man.” She chewed on her lower lip, frowning slightly. “You’ve given me much to think about. I can’t make any promises, but I assure you that I will restrain myself from slapping him again—unless he’s asking for it.”

Naruto gave a guffawing laugh. “That’s a start, I suppose.”

“There might still be trouble, though,” she said uncertainly. “I can’t imagine the Uchiha are too pleased with me right now.”

“They won’t cause trouble. Madara will make sure of that.”

Her eyebrows knit together. “Madara will?”

He nodded. “Taizo and Jintaro wanted to go after you, but he stopped them.” Naruto grinned teasingly. “He’s not so bad, you know—once you get to know him.”

“If you say so, Hokage-sama,” she replied dubiously, her expression barely short of a grimace.

They rejoined the group, and he was pleased to see Tomoya nod briefly at Sasuke. The gravity of the moment wasn’t lost on him, but he couldn’t help bursting into laughter at Sasuke’s face. The red hand-shaped imprint on his cheek was just too much. He should have told Tomoya there was no need to stop slapping him. Honestly, he would pay money to see that again.

Ah well, he thought to himself with a grin, maybe it wasn’t too late.

Chapter Text

“The river’s just up ahead,” Yoichi Hyuga said as he deactivated his Byakugan. “500 feet, maybe less.”

The tension in their party spiked palpably at this announcement. Once they crossed the river, they would officially be outside of the Land of Fire’s territory. There would be nothing but wild, unclaimed no-man’s land until they reached the Land of Earth.

They had left the dense forests behind a few days prior, and were now trudging through tall, reedy grasses that would one day give Kusagakure its name. Naruto had only been to these parts a few times in his past life, and never for long. Not that it would have helped much even if he had spent a great deal of time here, given how different things were in this era.

He heard the river before he saw it. It was a raging monster, impressively wide and fast-moving, with swirling eddies and white frothy rapids. He only needed one glance to tell him that using chakra to walk across was out of the question. Not everyone had the chakra reserves that he and Sasuke—or rather, Hashirama and Madara—possessed. He could have used his wood release to create a bridge, but since they were entering unknown territory, he didn’t want them to garner more attention than necessary.

Luckily, a couple of the men had traveled this way before and knew of a ferrying service nearby. As long as it was still here—

His musings were interrupted by the excited murmurs of his men. He looked up to see Tomoya standing on the water, about ten feet from the shore. She was navigating the turbulent river with ease, as if she had done it a thousand times in the past.

She looked back at them and beckoned impatiently. “Come on,” she called. “What are you waiting for?”

“The woman’s out of her mind,” Taizo Uchiha said, shaking his head in disbelief. Still, he couldn’t keep a note of begrudging respect from creeping into his voice.

Finally realizing that no one was following, Tomoya walked back to the shore. “What’s wrong?”

Naruto cleared his throat. “I think it would be better if we take the ferry, Tomoya.”

“But why?” she asked, looking puzzled.

“Because not everyone’s a mountain goat on water like you are,” Sasuke said flatly.

“Really?” Tomoya looked at the river with consternation. “I’ve crossed worse back home, though.”

Naruto chuckled. If that was true, he didn’t want to see the rivers where Tomoya was from.

The so-called ferrying service turned out to be a solitary man with a rowboat and a rather motley looking crew. The man looked up at their approach, pausing in his work to hastily pull out a cloth and mop the sweat from his brow. He was middle-aged and balding, but his arms were well-muscled and looked as if they could have belonged to a far younger man. The boat itself was crudely built, not a piece of fine craftsmanship by any means, but sturdy enough.

“Good day, gentleman.” The man lurched into a jerky bow, but his eyes never left the weapon pouches strapped to their hips. “Would you like to cross?”

Naruto stepped forward. “Yes. What’s the fare?”

He looked them over and Naruto could almost see him performing hasty calculations in his head. “For the thirteen of you, it would be 1,170 ryo, my lord.”

Several of the men broke into grumbles at the exorbitant sum, but Naruto hardly blinked. Prices were another thing that were different in his time. Also, one of the perks of being Hashirama was that he had no shortage of funds.

He counted the coins and handed them to the man, who carefully poured them into a pouch which was then returned to his inner coat pocket.

“Thank you, my lord.” He bowed again. “Getsu Oyagi, at your service. If you and your companions will step inside”—he gestured toward the rowboat—"we will be leaving momentarily.”

They boarded while Getsu and his crew undid the tangle of ropes that held them to shore with deft, rapid movements. They pushed off and the boat spun around like a leaf several times before the rowers managed to set them straight again, the muscles in their arms bulging from the effort.

“Is it always like this?” Naruto asked.

“It’s a little worse than usual, my lord. But not to fear, I’ve crossed this river more times than I can count, and I’ve yet to lose a passenger.”

“Hm.” Naruto’s gaze drifted upriver to where two wooden posts jutted out of the shore. The area around the posts buzzed with people carrying pieces of wood, bags, and tools.

“Are they building a bridge?” he asked.

Gebu snorted disdainfully. “Trying to, anyway. I keep telling that fool Kannabi that it’s impossible, but he really believes he can do it. I think he’d say he could build a bridge to the moon if he had enough time and wood.”

“Kannabi, huh?” Naruto mused. “Well, you never know, it just might work out for him.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, my lord,” Getsu replied. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You alright there, Umeno?”

Naruto glanced at the named Yamanaka clan member. The young man looked paler than usual, and there was a definite greenish tint to his skin.

“I’m fine,” Umeno gasped out, then quickly covered his mouth with his hand.

Tomoya patted his arm sympathetically. “You know, it might be better if you just—”

But the rest of her words were lost as the boat jolted violently and there was an ear-shattering crunching sound. Umeno lurched forward, flailing weakly as he tumbled headlong over the edge of the boat. Tomoya made a desperate grab for him and they disappeared together into the surging river below.

Naruto’s fingers started to fly through the seals for his clone jutsu, but he stopped himself just in time. Whoops...that would’ve been difficult to explain. He performed a simple wood release instead. The giant wooden arm reached into the water and deposited a sputtering Umeno and Tomoya into the bottom of the boat.

“Are you alright?” he asked them urgently. “Umeno? Tomoya...?”

His voice trailed off as he got a better look at Tomoya. Her hair was...different. It was wet, but that wasn’t all. It was no longer dark brown, but red. A fiery red. Almost like....

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with panic.

Mito.

The boat bumped against the other shore and Getsu hurried them off, saying the current was too strong for him to hold them there for long. The last of their party had scarcely set foot on dry land before the man mumbled a hasty farewell and steered the boat back out into the river. Getsu had known from the start that they were shinobi, but knowing it and seeing their power with his own eyes were two different things. Shinobi were feared in this era even more than in the future, and Naruto couldn’t blame the man for wanting as little to do with them as possible.

He watched Getsu leave, then shifted his gaze surreptitiously to Mito. The woman was staring at the ground, her face nearly as red as her hair. She was clearly miserable, and the other men weren’t helping the situation with their blatant stares and under-the-breath mutterings.

            “Mito-san.”

            She started at the sound of her name, but slowly lifted her eyes to meet his face. So, it really was her.

            “Can we talk for a minute?”

            She nodded reluctantly.

            “We’ll be back within a quarter of an hour,” he told the men, who had all suddenly found something in the scenery to hold their interest. “Wait here and lie low until I return.”

            There was little privacy to be found in the flat landscape blanketed with waist-length grass, but they eventually stumbled upon a copse of shrub-like trees that would serve well enough. He leaned against a sturdy trunk and crossed his arms. He hoped that his casual posture would help Mito relax, but the red-haired woman remained as stiff as a board.

            He finally breathed out a sigh and said, “Would you care to explain what’s going on, Mito-san?”

            It was as if a dam had been broken.

            Mito threw herself down, kneeling with her forehead pressed against the dusty ground. “My deepest apologies, Hashirama-sama. You have every right to be upset and I have no excuse. I can only humbly ask that you will keep the marriage contract and give me one more chance.”

“Woah, hold on. I’m not upset, and no one said anything about breaking the contract.”

She looked up, her dark eyes holding a glimmer of tentative hope. “You’re not upset?”

“Of course not.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, still wishing he could chop it off. “I’m just curious as to what’s going on. Is this Uzushiogakure’s way of spying on me?”

Her eyes widened in horror. “Not at all, Hashirama-sama.” She bowed again, even more deeply if possible. “No one else knows that I’m here—I acted on my own. Please don’t blame my village.”

“Mito-san, raise your head,” he said in exasperation. “If you’re not spying, then why are you here?”

She chewed on her lower lip. “Before coming to Konoha, I had never left Uzushiogakure before. I....wanted to see more of the world.”

“Why didn’t you just ask to come with me then?”

She shook her head with a bitter laugh. “It would have never been permitted. There’s a saying in my village. Men are drawn by looks alone, anything else only deters. This is especially true for Uzushiogakure women, with our loud mouths and hot tempers. We learned a long time ago to conceal our true selves, at least until the marriage is finalized, and that means spending as little time as possible with our betrothed.”

            “So the way you were when we first met...that’s not how you really are?”

            She shook her head, looking abashed. “There’s less deceit in Tomoya than in the veiled girl you met, Hashirama-sama. Tomoya’s name and appearance were lies, but the rest was truth.” She threw up her hands in vexation. “And now I’ve gone and told you everything, like a wool-headed ninny.”

            Naruto broke into a grin. “I’m glad.”

            “What?”

            “I’m glad. I liked Tomoya much more than the veiled girl.”

            She stared at him as if he had sprouted horns and a beard. “You do?”

            “Definitely. It’s always best to be yourself, don’t you think? And besides,” he added teasingly, “it’s not every day you come across a girl brave enough to slap the exalted Madara-sama.”

            A smile tugged at her lips. “You really are something, Hashirama-sama.”

            “Just call me Hashirama.”

            “Then you must call me Mito.”

            He watched as she stood and brushed herself off. She truly was similar to Sakura in many ways, but even more than that, she reminded him of his mother. He hadn’t known Kushina Uzumaki, not really, but there was something about her, and it wasn’t just the red hair. He put an end to his rambling thoughts, grimacing inwardly. Nothing good would come from comparing the woman he would someday be expected to marry with his mother.

 “I’ve enjoyed traveling with you, Hashirama,” Mito said, “and I’ll be looking forward to your return to Konoha.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I can’t keep traveling with you now that everyone knows the truth. It will make Majira even more furious, and I’d like to keep my head, thank you very much.”

He grinned impishly. “Ah, but I didn’t discover the truth until we were already returning from Iwa and I had no choice but to allow you to complete the journey with me. Remember?”

A slow smile spread across her features as she caught on. “You know, I’m liking you more and more.”

“I try. Anyway, we should probably head back. I’ll handle the others, so don’t worry about them.”

As they returned, he said conversationally, “I still can’t believe it—that ‘Tomoya’ was really you.”

“She was me, except for one little thing.”

“What’s that?”

She looked up at him, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I actually do know how to cook.”

He stopped in his tracks, then let out a guffawing laugh. “You know, I’m liking you more and more.”

She shrugged and grinned. “I try.”

Chapter Text

Naruto’s first thought upon seeing Iwagakure was, “Someone really took this whole rock theme and ran with it.” The ‘Hidden Stone Village’ was not only ensconced by craggy cliffs—even the buildings themselves were all built from the same gray rock. The overall effect was a drab, monotone landscape that had his fingers itching for a bucket of his old graffiti paint and a brush.

But despite the lack of aesthetic appeal, he had to appreciate the village’s defensibility. Iwagakure was a veritable fortress, with only one accessible road connecting it to the rest of the world. This road, of course, was heavily guarded by a series of checkpoints and gates. It may have been possible to find another route over the mountains, but as he craned his neck to look at the lofty spires that seemed to brush the sky, he doubted that many would be foolish enough to try.

They were met at the first gate by a stiff-backed man wearing the traditional red attire of Iwagakure. Seeing him brought back memories of the war—of Kurotsuchi and Kitsuchi and all the other brave Iwa shinobi he had fought alongside.

The man stepped forward and made a formal bow. “Greetings, Hokage-sama. Iwagakure welcomes you. I am Daichi Yamamoto and I have been sent by the Tsuchikage to serve as your guide during your stay.”

Naruto smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. I imagine we’ll be spending a lot of time together over the next few days, so do you mind if I call you Daichi?”

He had been trying to ease the man’s obvious tension, but his efforts only seemed to put him more on edge. He shook his head inwardly. Why did people always have to make things more difficult than they needed to be? Well, it wasn’t all bad. It was more fun when they were uptight at the start.

As Daichi led them through the long string of checkpoints and gates made of towering pillars of stone, Naruto made dogged attempts to engage the man in conversation.

“So Daichi, tell me about yourself.”

“What would you like to know, Hokage-sama?” the man asked with studied politeness.

Like pulling teeth, Naruto thought. “I don’t know, whatever you want.”

When Daichi continued to stare at him blankly, he sighed. “Alright, I’ll go first. I like wood and ramen, and I dislike people who go back on their word. My hobby is eating ramen—or at least it used to be.” Boy, did he miss Ichiraku’s. “And my dream is to create a world of peace. Ok, now it’s your turn,” he said, silently thanking Kakashi for the stroke of inspiration.

“Very well,” Daichi replied. “I like training, and I dislike laziness. My hobby is training, and my dream is to serve Iwagakure until the day I die.” He spoke without emotion, as if he were reading from a manuscript.  

Naruto scrubbed a hand through his hair. It looked like this might take more work than he had thought. “Saying training doesn’t count. What’s something else that you enjoy? Something that makes you excited?”

“Something that makes me excited?” Daichi looked thoughtful. “Rocks...I suppose?”

Rocks? The man was excited by rocks? Naruto only shook his head and decided it was best to change the subject.

“How about your family? Do you have a wife? Kids?”

Daichi shook his head. “I do not.”

After several more failed attempts at conversation, they reached the village itself. Daichi led the way through broad streets lined with houses and paved with—who could’ve guessed it—more stones. The man had certainly joined the right hidden village given his...unique interests.

“Tsuchikage-sama asked me to apologize on his behalf,” Daichi said. “He is unable to meet with you at the moment, but he has invited you to his residence for supper at six o’clock if you would care to join him.”

“That sounds great,” Naruto said appreciatively. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a real meal.”

Daichi inclined his head. “Very well, Hokage-sama. I will inform Tsuchikage-sama as soon as I see you to your rooms.”

Naruto was about to thank him when the ground began to shake. He thought at first that it was his imagination, but a glance at his companions told him that they felt it too. It was very slight, scarcely more than a tremor, but it was there, nonetheless. A few seconds later it stopped and the few Iwagakure villagers who were milling about continued with their business as if nothing had happened.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Just some rockslides a good distance away,” Daichi replied. “There’s no need to concern yourself over it, I assure you.”

Naruto hummed, but said nothing. Daichi’s tone had been nothing but stiff and formal this entire time, but now he spoke off-handedly, even casually. It was as if he was making a conscious effort at sounding relaxed. And in his experience, people only did that when they were anything but relaxed.

They turned another corner and entered a stone building much like all the rest. It was built like a stout tower with a turret roof and narrow slits for windows. The interior had the appearance of a luxurious inn. Red carpets lined the floor and candles in finely worked sconces gave the space a warm glow.

“I have prepared four rooms,” Daichi said. “One for you, Hokage-sama, and three more for your men.” He glanced apologetically at Mito. “I did not expect for you to have a lady accompanying you.”

Mito did look like a lady—now, at least. Yesterday they had visited a large town and exchanged her shinobi battle gear for a pink kimono of the finest silk and matching slippers. They had also bought several pieces of expensive jewelry—transparent crystals that hung from her ears and jingled daintily when she moved, and a circlet of golden chain to adorn her hair. The circlet had a larger crystal of the palest pink that hung over her forehead. Her crimson tresses were pinned up in two buns, the way she preferred. A touch of rouge that brought out the natural color in her lips and cheeks completed the picture.

“This is my betrothed, Mito Uzumaki of Uzushiogakure,” he said. “She arrived the day before my departure to Iwagakure, so I didn’t have time to inform you of her coming.”

“That is quite alright, Hokage-sama. If you will wait just a moment, I should be able to arrange for another room.” He bowed and strode away, his long legs eating up the distance easily.

“Such disrespect,” one of the Senju—a hard-faced man named Banri—muttered. “Keeping Hashirama-sama waiting after we’ve come all this way. The Tsuchikage clearly wants us to know from the start who’s in control.”

Naruto put up a hand before anyone else had a chance to speak. “It doesn’t matter.           

Remember why we’re here. I will not have this alliance ruined by petty hurt feelings. I expect all of you to be on your best behavior and watch your tongues or I will be forced to send you back to Konoha ahead of me. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Hokage-sama.” Some of the men sounded sullen, but they all said it, nonetheless.

Naruto sighed tiredly. Honestly, how shortsighted could they be? They were foreigners in the heart of another shinobi village, and they had really thought they would be given only one babysitter? Even now, he could sense about twelve men, maybe more, in the immediate vicinity. At least Sasuke seemed to understand their situation, judging from his tense posture and the way his eyes darted around sharply.

Daichi returned a few minutes later and gave them the keys to their rooms. Naruto’s private suite was nice enough, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was being watched. And maybe he was. It was probably safest to assume that even the walls had eyes here.

He unpacked his things, took a long bath to wash off the travel dust, then changed into formal clothes. After that, he waged his usual war with his tangled mass of hair. He had just finished when there was a soft rap at his door.

Praying that Sasuke would keep the men from doing anything stupid while he was gone, he followed Daichi with Mito on his arm. As his betrothed, the Tsuchikage had extended his invitation to her as well. They eventually arrived at a building that loomed impressively over the rest of the village. In the fading twilight, he could just make out the characters for Tsuchikage on the conical roof. They climbed a curved staircase which eventually let out into a spacious dining hall.

The Tsuchikage was already seated at the head of the table. He appeared to be alone, but

Naruto knew that his elite guard was near at hand, ready to spring to their leader’s aid at a moment’s notice.

Not that the Tsuchikage would necessarily need aid, even if trouble did arise. One look at Ishikawa was all it took to see that ‘Tsuchikage’ was more than just a title. The man before him radiated quiet strength and power, his hard, chiseled features giving an impression of complete immutability. He must be a grandfather by now, but his head of long gray hair was the only indication of his advancing age. His movements and dark eyes were as sharp as a man in the prime of his youth.

“Welcome, Hokage-sama.” He had a rough voice, like stones grating against one another. “Thank you for coming all this way. Please—join me.”

Naruto seated Mito, then slid into the chair beside her. He glanced around, disappointed to see that there was no food on the table. Why did fancy people always see the need to drag these things out so much?

The Tsuchikage cleared his throat. “I apologize that I was unable to receive you earlier. I’m afraid I had other affairs that required my attention.”

“I understand, Tsuchikage-sama.” Naruto’s lips quirked into a smile. “The work never seems to end, does it?”

The other man returned the gesture, albeit tightly. “Quite true.” His gaze shifted to Mito. “And this is your betrothed, correct?”

“Yes, this is Mito Uzumaki of Uzushiogakure.”

Ishikawa gave her a polite nod. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mito-san.”

“Likewise, Tsuchikage-sama.”

“So, what do you think of Iwagakure?” he asked, leaning back leisurely in his chair.

“It’s quite impressive,” Naruto replied. “I would love to walk around and see the entire village, if given a chance.”

“I will arrange for Daichi to give you a tour tomorrow,” the Tsuchikage said. “I trust he has been serving you well?”

“Yes, thank you, Tsuchikage-sama.”

They spoke for a while of their journey and other trivial topics. At last, some food came out—a beige-colored soup with a grainy texture. The flavor was odd, but he was hungry and drained every last drop.

After that, the dishes came in a steady stream. There were dumplings in a savory brown sauce, broiled fish and roasted vegetables cut in neat cubes, lettuce wraps stuffed with carrots and leeks, and more.

As they ate, they kept up a pleasant, light conversation. He still felt uncomfortable in these situations, but Mito was a model of elegance and grace. She was so convincing in her role as a demure noblewoman that he almost found himself falling for the charade.

“Your betrothed is really quite lovely, Hokage-sama,” the Tsuchikage said, lifting his cup of sake to his lips. “You are a lucky man.”

Mito looked down with a shy smile. “You flatter me, Tsuchikage-sama.”

“Not at all,” he said jovially. “You remind me very much of my wife, may her soul rest in peace. She was not so pretty, but there was no one as gentle and sweet as my Aiko.”

It was strange to see the change that came over him as he spoke of his wife. It was as if the harsh edges of the Tsuchikage’s face were softening before their eyes.

“I still don’t know why she agreed to wed a rough man like myself,” he went on, “but I’ll

always be grateful that she did.” He took another sip of sake. “But back to you and Mito-san. I suppose you’ll be having an heir soon?”

Naruto nearly spewed out his own mouthful of sake. “Yes,” he said in a choked voice, glancing nervously at Mito. “Eventually.”

He had tried to put off thinking about it, but in the back of his mind, he had always known that Hashirama and Mito must have had at least one child. Tsunade was their granddaughter, after all. Tsunade, his grandchild. He shuddered and was very thankful when the Tsuchikage started talking again.

“My Aiko gave me three daughters,” Ishikawa said. “We were unable to have any sons, but I never loved her any less for it. Now my daughters are grown and wed and have given me four grandsons. The eldest, Onoki, shows great promise. He’s a prodigy in the shinobi arts, the best of his age group, but I’m afraid that he still has much to learn in other areas.” He sighed, shaking his head slightly. “The boy is far too arrogant for his own good, and I’m afraid that he has little understanding of what it truly means to be a shinobi.”

Naruto stifled a laugh. If only the Onoki of his time were here, he would have had endless fun teasing him. Aloud he said, “That is the way of the young, Tsuchikage-sama. I am sure that he will learn and grow into an admirable shinobi someday.”

“I know you are right, Hokage-sama, but it is a grandparent’s way to worry.”

Further conversation was cut short as the door flung open and a harried-looking Iwa shinobi burst into the room. His gaze jumped to Naruto and Mito, then to the Tsuchikage before he bent in a hasty bow.

“I beg your pardon, Tsuchikage-sama, but I have a message for you.”

Ishikawa stood, the legs of his chair scraping against the stone floor. “My apologies, Hokage-sama, Mito-san. Just as you said, the work never ends.” He forced a smile, but the lines of his face were tight with worry. “I’m afraid I will have to excuse myself early tonight, but please take your time and enjoy the rest of the meal. I look forward to speaking with you more tomorrow. Goodnight.”

He strode out of the room, barely sparing them a second glance. Naruto watched him go, his suspicions all but confirmed. First the rumblings, and now this. Something was happening in Iwagakure, and even with all his knowledge of the future, he had no idea what it was.

Chapter Text

Naruto whistled cheerily to himself as he ambled through Iwa’s streets. It didn’t matter what era he was in, the shadow clone jutsu was still his favorite technique by far. It was like the orange jumpsuit of jutsu—appropriate for use in nearly every occasion.

Daichi was currently giving a very-convincing Hashirama clone a tour of Iwa, which left Naruto free to roam around and get a feel for the true pulse of the city. He had used a henge on himself to avoid unwanted eyes, and now had the appearance of a run-of-the-mill merchant. He had never been able to manage the technique in his old life, but Hashirama’s charka stores were a drop in the bucket compared to what Kurama had given him, and his control was better too.

Naruto wandered up and down streets, watching as people bustled by. The ground started to rumble again, more than yesterday, and he seized the chance to ask around—merely as an innocently curious merchant, of course. But regardless of who he asked, he got the same answer.

Just some distant landslides. The Tsuchikage’s handling it. Nothing to worry about.

Realizing that he was getting nowhere, he directed his footsteps towards the eastern part of the village, where the bordering mountains were the tallest. There was one place he wanted to go that he was fairly certain wouldn’t be on Daichi’s itinerary.

He found it just as old man Onoki had described. On the fringes of Iwagakure proper, a rocky outcropping nearly obscured the entrance to a tunnel that bore into the heart of the mountains. Any casual passerby would have missed it, which may have explained why it wasn’t guarded. Either that or what was inside wasn’t deemed valuable enough to warrant a guard.

The floor of the tunnel was packed dirt, and the feeble light of the torches that lined the walls were losing badly against the surrounding darkness. The temperature must have dropped close to twenty degrees as he walked deeper inside, and the air had a damp, almost misty feel to it.

He could see the tunnel open into a large room ahead, but he slowed his steps as he sensed that he wasn’t alone. He slinked against the wall, careful to stay in the shadows, and peered around the corner to study the room’s sole occupant. It was a boy, probably about twelve or thirteen years old.

Much had changed about him with age, but Naruto would recognize those bushy eyebrows and that bulbous nose anywhere. He was facing Onoki of Both Scales in the flesh—or an awkward preteen version of him, anyway. Naruto remembered well what it was like to be that age, and he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of pity for the boy.

Onoki was bent over a raised platform, muttering darkly to himself as he polished a plain-looking stone with a rag. Naruto caught the words ‘stinking rocks’ and ‘stupid, stiff-necked old geezer.’ He smiled to himself. It appeared as if the Tsuchikage was making good on his promise to give his grandson a lesson in humility.

He hovered at the edge of the shadows, split in indecision. After a moment of internal battle, he changed his henge to his original appearance—blonde hair and all. The only difference was his attire. This was one of those rare occasions where his beloved jumpsuit would only raise questions. Instead, he donned Iwa’s red uniform, complete with a matching forehead protector.

He knew he was taking a stupid risk, but Onoki was one of the few people in this era who he had met as Naruto. If possible, he wanted to meet him again as his true self.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the room. Onoki sensed him almost immediately, whirling around and staring at him with the eyes of a wary animal. The hand that didn’t hold the rag was a mere finger’s breadth from his weapons pouch.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly over the word ‘you.’ Yeah, he really didn’t miss being that age.

“Tsuchikage-sama sent me to check on your progress,” he lied easily.

Onoki eyed him appraisingly, then thrust the rag towards him. “I was wondering when you would get here and finish this.”

Naruto fought back a grin. It looked like the old man had been shrewd even at this age, but he knew how Onoki worked and wasn’t about to fall for his tricks.

“My apologies, young master, but the Tsuchikage-sama was very clear. I am merely to monitor you in your task, not aid you.”

Onoki stared up at him for a long, tense moment. He was taller as a boy than he had been as an old man, but only slightly.

“It seems like that old geezer really did send you,” he grunted at last. “I don’t recognize you. What’s your name?”

“Naruto,” he said with a wide grin. “I’m new to Iwa.”

Onoki nodded, apparently satisfied. In this era, it wasn’t uncommon for people to have no family names. Many were orphans, and even those who had been part of a clan often abandoned their name for one reason or another.

“Well, Naruto-san, monitor me however you want—not that there’s much to see.”

“What are you doing anyway?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Onoki asked dryly, twirling the rag in his hand. “I’m cleaning our village’s Stone Monument.”

Naruto glanced at the stone on the pedestal. “That’s it? But it looks—”

“Like any old rock?” Onoki cut him off. “That’s because it is. I watched my old man pick it up from this pool and replace it with another just like it right before my eyes. I could do it again right now, for that matter, and no one would even notice.”

He continued scouring the rock almost angrily. “Laughable, isn’t it?”

“I guess it depends on who you ask,” Naruto said, a smile tugging at his lips. Onoki would understand what his grandfather was trying to teach him someday, but he would have to figure it out on his own.

He had scarcely finished speaking before the rumbling started again, stronger than all of the other times combined. The sound reminded him of a creature’s dull roar. The walls of the cave reverberated until pebbles and pieces of dust rained down on them, and for several heart-stopping seconds, he feared that the entire mountain would collapse on top of them.

At last it subsided, and Onoki said, in a voice tinged with sullenness, “I wish I was out there instead of cleaning this stupid rock.”

Naruto chose his next words carefully. “Tsuchikage-sama won’t let you go?”

Onoki shook his head with an air of frustration. “He’s only sending the most elite and experienced shinobi.”

“It’s that bad, huh?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve never seen that old geezer so worried.” He stepped back to examine his handiwork. “I think it’s as good as it’s going to get,” he said finally, then glanced in Naruto’s direction. “Do you need to check it or something?”

“Nah, I trust you.”

“Ok, then I guess we’re done here. I’ll see you around, Naruto-san.”

“Yeah,” he smiled. “See you around.” In sixty years or so.

Back in his room, he mulled over Onoki’s words. There was still a lot that he didn’t know, but he had learned one thing at least. Whatever was causing that rumbling, it definitely wasn’t landslides.

But what was he supposed to do about it? Should he leave it be, and hope that it was something that was meant to happen in the original timeline? But if it wasn’t...if he and Sasuke had somehow managed to screw things up...

But what if they got involved and it only made things worse?

He shook himself. It was impossible for him to make a decision like this. He needed more information. Without it, he was like a man stumbling around blindfolded in the Forest of Death.

But how could he get the intel he needed? It seemed that the only people who knew what was going on were the Tsuchikage himself and a specially selected group of Iwa’s best shinobi. Since they were taking such care to keep the situation under wraps, he somehow doubted that they would be particularly eager to tell him about it.

He could send a shadow clone to do reconnaissance, but it would be hard to explain if he was discovered. In the worst case, it could put the entire treaty at risk, and that was the one thing that he couldn’t allow. No matter what, the alliance between Iwa and Konoha had to be formed.

His mind was still going in circles when there was a knock at his door. He opened it and found Daichi, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else. Sasuke stood beside him—his face an expressionless mask.

“Hokage-sama.” Daichi gave a stiff nod. “I apologize for disturbing you, but Tsuchikage-sama would like to speak with you and Madara-sama. Will you please come with me?”

"Of course,” he said, gesturing for the other man to lead the way.

They found the Tsuchikage in his office, pacing back and forth like a caged lion. He looked up at them as they entered.

“Thank you for coming, Hokage-sama, Madara-sama. Please, have a seat.” He nodded curtly toward two tall-backed chairs.

They did so, while the Tsuchikage seated himself behind a desk of black granite that had been polished until it was more reflective than a pond’s surface at night. The aged man’s expression was as stony as ever, but his eyes were haggard and his shoulders were slumped with exhaustion, worry, or both.

“It shames me to say it,” he began without preamble, “but I have a request to ask of you. I normally wouldn’t involve outsiders in Iwa’s problems, but given the prospective alliance between our villages...”

The Tsuchikage’s voice trailed off, but the threat was clear. If they refused to give aid, the alliance would likely crumble to pieces. If that was the case, his response wasn’t even a question.

“We’ll do whatever we can to help, Tsuchikage-sama,” he said firmly. “What do you need?”

“Thank you,” the Tsucikage said, looking torn between relief and anxiety. “My request, then, is this. I need you to help us kill the Kyubi.”

Chapter Text

Naruto waited tensely in the shadows of one of Iwa’s twisted alleyways. Night had brought a biting chill in the air, but he scarcely felt it. The full moon overhead seemed to taunt him, reminding him of another night that he had sworn would never be repeated. His fists clenched unconsciously, nails digging into the flesh of his palms.

Where had he gone wrong?

His mind replayed his conversation with the Tsuchikage, as it had nearly a hundred times since he left the confines of the man’s office.

"The Kyubi?” he repeated in disbelief.

The Tsuchikage nodded grimly. “He’s been in the forest outside the village for nearly three days now. I imagine you’ve heard the disturbance he’s causing.”

Everything around him seemed far away—as if he was watching from the other end of a long tunnel. Distantly, he was grateful that he was already seated, or his legs likely would have given out beneath him.

“I’ve sent my best shinobi to deal with the situation,” the Tsuchikage continued, “but so far they’ve met with little success. There haven’t been any casualties, but I fear that—”

“You’ve had no casualties?” Sasuke cut in skeptically.

“That’s right,” the Tsuchikage replied, a hint of pride edging into his voice despite his haggardness. “The shinobi of Iwa truly are as strong and immutable as stone. They have fought the most formidable of the bijuu for three days and have never surrendered an inch.”

Naruto studied the man closely. Something told him that he wasn’t bluffing, but it didn’t make any sense. If Kurama was serious, he could easily raze an entire village. A small battalion of shinobi, no matter how capable, would have never come out unscathed.

“But even though my shinobi have fought hard,” the Tsuchikage said, “the battle has reached a stalemate. That is why I am making this request, Hokage-sama. I have heard that you and Madara-sama have...talents that are uniquely suited for subduing a bijuu. So, I ask again, will you help me?”

Kakashi-sensei had always said that Naruto did his best thinking when he was backed into a corner, and now was one of those times. A plan popped into his mind, seemingly of its own accord. He was more than a little disgusted at himself for thinking of it, but he couldn’t deny that it was a good plan. Given the circumstances, it was the best he had.

“We’ll help you,” he said, “but I ask for a few concessions. First, you must withdraw your shinobi immediately. When Madara and I face the Kyubi, I don’t want any of them getting caught in the crosshairs. Second, you will allow me to bring any of my party that I see fit to accompany me.”

The Tsuchikage drew himself up indignantly. “I can assure you, Hokage-sama, that you will find my shinobi not at all inferior to yours if you allow them to assist you.”

“Be that as it may, I wish to do this my way. Will you agree to the conditions?”

The man looked chagrined, but he finally said, “Very well.”

“How long will it take for your shinobi to retreat?” Naruto asked.

“If I send word by carrier pigeon, it’ll be an hour—two at most.”

Naruto nodded. “We will leave as soon as the area’s clear. If all goes well, the Kyubi will no longer be troubling Iwagakure come dawn.”

The Tsuchikage bowed his head. It wasn’t much, but for a man of his rank, it was the most that could be expected. “Thank you, Hokage-sama. I am in your debt.”

Naruto reached across the desk and clasped the man’s hand. “No debt, Tsuchikage-sama. An equal partnership is all I ask. I’ll take my leave now. Goodnight.”

Back in the present, a slight movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Sasuke glided out of the shadows without a sound and came to stand beside him. His cloak blended seamlessly into the darkness, making him look like the Shinigami himself.

Neither said a word, but he could feel Sasuke’s gaze boring into him. His friend had almost certainly figured out what he was planning by now, but he hadn’t said anything. Part of him was grateful that he hadn’t tried to stop him, while another wished that he had.

Stop thinking about it, he told himself firmly. It didn’t matter how he felt, he would do what must be done.

There was another blur of movement and a slender figure appeared in the alleyway. For a brief moment, moonlight illuminated the heart-shaped face of Mito Uzumaki. She wore all black, and her twin buns were covered in a dark veil.

She hadn’t asked any questions, not even when he came knocking on her door in the middle of the night and told her to get ready and meet him in the alley outside the inn. She was a kunoichi, and when there was a mission to be done, she understood that questions came later.

“Do you have everything?” he asked.

She nodded, her eyes shining in the darkness. They held no fear, only innocent curiosity and anticipation. A sharp pang of guilt pierced him as he wondered what they would look like when she realized the truth.

Shoving the thought aside, he spoke brusquely. “Good. Let’s go.”

They traveled in swift silence, sometimes by rooftops and sometimes by empty streets. The landscape shifted as they left Iwagakure behind and entered the rocky, forested terrain that lay east of the village.

“We’re heading toward the rumbling sounds,” Mito said, glancing at him. “That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”

“It’s not landslides. It’s the Kyubi.”

“The Kyubi?” Incredulity was evident in her tone.

“Yes. The Tsuchikage has asked for our help in dealing with him.”

“You’re going to kill a bijuu?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure we could even if we tried.”

“Then what’s your plan?”

“How good are you at sealing?”

She stopped running, then hurried to catch up. “Sealing? What does that have to do with anything?”

“Are you any good?” he asked again.

She stared at him for a long moment. “I was the best in my village,” she said at last. “And Uzushiogakure is well known for having the most skilled seal masters of any land.”

“Could you seal him?”

“The Kyubi?”

“Yes.”

“It could be done,” she replied hesitantly, “but I don’t have anything here that could hold such a large amount of chakra.”

He hated himself for what he had to say next. “What about a person?”

“A person?” She stared at him as if he might be crazy. “You want to seal the Kyubi into a person?”

He almost bit back laughter. What a cruel twist of fate this was. He had spent nearly his entire life being hated for being a jinchuriki, and now he was trying to create one.

“Could you do it?” he asked.

“I think so,” she replied slowly, “but who are you planning to have it sealed into?”

He could only stare at her, the words lodged in his throat. Understanding dawned on her face.

“I see,” she said softly.

“Mito...” He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to do this, but she didn’t have a choice any more than he did. It didn’t matter how much he hated it—this was the only way to get the timeline back on track. He didn’t know how Kurama had ended up here in Iwa, but he couldn’t allow him to run rampant and wreak even more havoc. He had to be sealed into Mito before things grew worse.

“I understand,” Mito said. “You must do what is best for Konoha.”

“I’m sorry.” It was stupidly inadequate, but it was all he could say.

She gave a strained smile. “With our alliance, Konoha’s strength is also Uzushiogakure’s. I’ll do what’s necessary to make our villages strong.”

The surrounding forest had begun to show signs of conflict—a fallen tree here, a patch of scorched earth there. Even so, none of it was near the level of devastation that Kurama could have caused if he was truly bent on destruction. Just one more piece in a puzzle that was making less sense by the minute.

The forest thinned into a clearing, giving them their first glimpse of Kurama’s massive orange form. Naruto held up a hand, motioning for the others to stop.

“Stay here and prepare the seal,” he told Mito in a hushed whisper. “I’ll go out first and restrain him. Madara, you stay with her, but be ready to assist if things go poorly.”

Sasuke gave a grudging nod, while Mito began rummaging for her brushes and inkpots. Her face was as pale as a sheet, but her expression was resolute.

“Who is it?” a booming voice demanded.

Kurama. He was hit with an intense longing to see his old friend—to talk with him even just one more time. There’s no point in wishing, he reminded himself forcefully. He’s not the Kurama you know. He had to think that way, or he would never be able to go through with what he was about to do.

He approached slowly, careful to keep out of sight. Kurama’s tails were twitching wildly—a sure sign that he was agitated.

“Who is it?” he asked, his voice little more than a growl. “Did you bring him?”

Naruto’s fingers formed the seal for wood release. I’m sorry, old friend. If you were here, I hope you’d understand.

Branches and thick vines shot up from the clearing, twining themselves around Kurama. He thrashed wildly, but the more he struggled, the tighter they became. Once he was secured, Naruto stepped into the clearing.

“You,” Kurama spat, his struggling starting anew. “Where’s Madara?”

Madara...?

“Where’s Madara?” he roared. The ground shook violently under their feet. “I have to kill him!”

“What are you talking about?” he managed at last.

“Let me kill him!” Kurama struggled frantically. “You don’t know what he’ll do! I have to kill him!”

Naruto stared at him in shock. Could it be...?

He moved closer as if in a trance, hand outstretched. “Naruto...” he said faintly. “Do you know the name Naruto?”

Kurama froze, his dark eyes narrowing to slits. “How do you know that name?”

Naruto lunged forward without thinking and burrowed against Kurama’s soft fur. It was him. It was really him. “Kurama!”

Chapter Text

“So, you’re telling me that you’re Naruto?”

He nodded emphatically.

“And that’s Sasuke?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And her?” Kurama thrust a curved claw towards where Mito was watching them cautiously. “Are you going tell me she’s actually Sakura? Or maybe Kakashi?”

Ohhhh, crap. He had completely forgotten about Mito.

"Uh, no, that’s the real Mito Uzumaki.” He beckoned for her to come closer. “It’s ok, Mito. He’s an old friend.”

Instead of approaching, she turned and bolted into the forest. He sighed and formed the seal for wood release. There was a small yelp as Mito was trapped securely in a wooden cage of his own making. He doubted she was overly pleased with the arrangement, but that was a mess he would have to deal with later.

He turned his attention back to Kurama. “How did you get here?”

“Don’t ask me,” Kurama huffed. “One minute we’re fighting for our lives against Madara, and the next thing I know I wake up in the middle of a forest. It took a while, but I eventually figured out where—or I guess I should say when—I was. And I realized that I could change things.”

The pieces came together in an instant. “You were going to kill Madara.”

Kurama nodded. “I arrived in Iwa the day before you did. It didn’t take long for the Tsuchikage to become aware of my presence, and I told him that I would leave as soon as he gave Madara to me. The man still stupidly sent his shinobi to try and get rid of me, but I put them in their place.

“Gently,” he added quickly, seeing Naruto’s stern expression. “I put them in their place gently.”

“That conniving old man set us up,” Sasuke said in disgust. “He sent us straight to the Kyubi, neatly gift-wrapped and tied with a bow.”

Naruto only shrugged. “Can you blame him? If we succeeded, Kurama would be taken care of, and even if we didn’t, it would mean that Kurama killed Madara like he wanted and would leave Iwa alone.”

“Taken care of?” Kurama sniffed indignantly. “You weren’t actually thinking you’d be able to win a fight against my past self, were you?”

“No.” Naruto shifted his weight uncomfortably. “We were going to seal you...into Mito.”

The utter disbelief and hurt in Kurama’s eyes made him rush on. “I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t supposed to be in Iwa, and it was the only way I could think of to keep the timeline on track.”

“What do you mean ‘keep the timeline on track?’ Didn’t you say you were sent back so you could change things?”

He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Yes, but if I change too much, then all of my knowledge becomes useless. I can’t fail, Kurama. Not again.”

To his surprise, the fox burst into guffawing laughter.

“What’s so funny?” he asked defensively.

“You talk about not changing things,” Kurama said, “but a soft-hearted idiot like you will never be able to just sit by and twiddle your thumbs while three shinobi wars go on, not to mention the countless other atrocities that happen between now and your time.”

He sobered suddenly. “But feel free to prove me wrong. If you’re serious about not changing the past, go ahead and seal me into the Uzumaki woman right here and now. I won’t resist if that’s what you really want.”

Naruto stared at Kurama in shock, but his friend met his gaze steadily. He finally lowered his eyes. “I can’t,” he said quietly.

All his resolve, all his promises, and in the end, he couldn’t do it.

“I know,” Kurama rumbled, a note of affection in his deep voice. “The way I see it, you’re going to end up changing things sooner or later, so you may as well start now so you’ll have fewer regrets.”

“Alright,” he sighed, “you win.” He glanced at Sasuke. “Is this ok with you?”

Sasuke shrugged. “I don’t care one way or another. Just remember, if you fail—”

“I know, I know, it’s my neck on the block.”

“As long as we’re clear. Besides, I’m not the problem here.” He jerked his head towards Mito.

Right. “Let me handle this,” he told them.

Mito stood stiffly in the cage, head erect and eyes sparking enough fire to light wet kindling. She didn’t say a word as he approached, which only set him more on edge.

“Mito?” he asked tentatively. “I’m going to let you out now, but I need your word that you won’t try to run again.”

“If you’re going to feed me to the Kyubi,” she replied icily, “the least you could do is give me the dignity of being able to fight for my life.”

He gaped at her. “Feed you to the—?” He shook himself. “Mito, no one here is going to hurt you. Now, will you give me your word that you won’t run?”

She finally gave a curt nod, but her eyes never softened. He thought he might catch fire just from her staring at him.

“Ok, I’m letting you out now.” He created an opening in the cage and she stepped out, still watching all of them warily.

“You probably already heard the gist of it,” he said, “but I want to introduce myself properly. My real name is Naruto Uzumaki, and I’m from about sixty years in the future. Madara is actually Sasuke Uchiha—a friend of mine from my time. And that’s Kurama—who you know as the Kyubi.”

She only looked at him silently, so he barreled on. “In our time, there was a war.” He swallowed and forced himself to meet her gaze. “We were supposed to stop it, but we failed, and everyone died because of it. That’s why we’re here. We were sent back in time so that we could have a second chance. And now that you know, I’d like to ask for your help too.”

“Prove it.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You can’t seriously expect me to believe all this so easily. Prove to me that you’re from the future.”

“Prove it, you say...?” He scratched his head. Sasuke could probably show her something from the future with his Sharingan, but having her endure the Tsukuyomi was hardly the best way to start off their partnership.

“Ah, wait,” he said excitedly, “I think I have something. Do you have a brush and scroll I could use?”

He set to work, chewing his lower lip in concentration. “There.” He squinted and turned the scroll sideways. Well, it was good enough. He was a man of many talents, but art was not one of them.

Mito studied it intently. “This...is a seal design, isn’t it?”

“It’s from my time. It was used to seal Kurama.”

“Ingenious,” she murmured, tracing her fingers lightly over the scroll. “There are Uzumaki elements that I recognize, but these parts here...I’ve played around with some of these ideas, but I haven’t even tested them yet.” She looked at him, eyes alight. “Did you make this?”

He shook his head, grinning widely. “That would be my father, the Yondaime Hokage, but I’m pretty sure he had some help from my mother who happened to be an Uzumaki. So, do you believe me now?”

She looked as if she were truly seeing him for the first time. “How do you know you can trust me?”

“Because I like you, Mito. My mother was an Uzumaki too, and I guess you remind me of her. But it’s not just that. I know that you’re the type of person who’s willing to sacrifice herself for the sake of peace. I know that you dream of creating a better world, not just for Konoha and Uzushiogakure, but for everyone.”

He reached out and gripped her hand earnestly. “That’s what I want too, Mito. Will you please help me?”

She studied him for what seemed like an eternity. “I have one question. You grew to know me under a different name and guise, but it was truly me. Was the person I have come to know you, or someone else?”

“It was me,” he said. “Naruto Uzumaki.”

She nodded. “Then I give you my word, Naruto Uzumaki, that your secret is safe with me, and that I will do whatever I can to aid you.”

“Thank you.” He was surprised when his knees went weak with relief. He hadn’t realized how worried he had been that she would refuse.

“Come on.” He led her over to where Sasuke and Kurama were waiting. “I need to introduce you.”

Mito composed herself admirably while greeting Kurama, even though it was obvious that she was still fighting a strong desire to flee.

“You can pet him if you want,” he told her with a grin. “His bark is much worse than his bite.”

“Naruto,” Kurama rumbled warningly.

“I...” Mito’s voice seemed to catch in her throat. “I’m alright for now, thank you.”

She turned toward Sasuke next. “I owe you an apology. I realize now that my ire was misdirected, and for that I am sorry.”

Naruto slung an arm over Sasuke’s shoulder. “I already told you there’s no need for you to apologize. Believe me, he’s done plenty of things that are ire-worthy. A slap or two won’t hurt him.”

“Naruto,” Sasuke said darkly.

“Good,” he said, pretending not to hear. “Now everyone knows everyone.”

“So what now?” Kurama asked. He eyed Sasuke critically. “Even if he’s not Madara, he’s no ally of ours. He’s made that clear in the past—or the future. Argh”—he scratched his head in annoyance—"I hate time travel. Anyway, I say that we kill him before he has a chance to stab you in the back again.”

Sasuke shot the fox his blackest glare. “And I say that we seal him back into you, Naruto. It’s better than having to listen to his nonstop lecturing.”

“Stop joking around, both of you,” Naruto said absently, ignoring how wide Mito’s eyes were. “No one’s killing or sealing anyone.”

His mind was already racing with a thousand possibilities. Even when he had decided he wasn’t going to change things, he had often found himself thinking about what he would do differently if he had a chance. Now that he had opened the box, it was as if all of his thoughts and ideas were overflowing, and there was no hope of cramming them back inside.

“If we’re going to do this,” he said at last, “we’re going to do it right. That means no wars, no jinchuriki, and as few deaths as we can manage.” He turned to Kurama as a new thought occurred to him. “Are you still connected to the other bijuu?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he nodded. “I think that we’ll need to find a way to get their cooperation if we’re going to succeed with this.”

“About that,” Kuauma said, “I actually have a theory that I want to test out.”

As Naruto listened to the details of Kurama’s plan, he felt excitement stirring within his chest. He had been grateful for his second chance, but this whole time he had felt constricted, like a bird who had its wings bound to its sides. Now it was as if the binding had come off, and he was free to fly as high and as far as he could.

He might be making the biggest mistake of his life, but right now, he felt strangely content. This was the right thing to do. If there were consequences, he would figure out what to do about them when the time came. That was what he did best, after all.

“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.”

Remembering Toka’s words almost made him laugh aloud. It looked like she had known him better than himself—and she didn’t even know who he was.

It would be alright. Even if everything else changed, he would ensure that the Naruto and Sasuke of this timeline were born. They were the Children of Prophecy, who were destined to stop the war. As long as they existed, everything would be alright. He would do his part, and then leave the future up to them.

Chapter Text

Ishikawa finished reading the document and set it down on his desk. He picked up his pipe and puffed slowly. “You’ve made a few changes, I see.”

“I have.”

Ishikawa eyed him, face expressionless, then lifted the document again.

“This part here—” He cleared his throat and read aloud. “If a member of the pact faces attack from outside aggressors, the other member will provide military, financial, or provisional support as deemed appropriate.”

He looked up from the document. “You do realize that this goes far beyond a non-aggression pact, Hokage-sama.”

“I understand, but I believe that this is the best way to ensure peace. If we show that we are strong allies, no one will dare stand against two united shinobi villages. Besides, we’ve already begun on this path, so I thought we may as well continue. Do you disagree?”

The thinly veiled reference to their assistance with Kurama would hopefully be enough to make him swallow any further protests he had. As far as Ishikawa was concerned, he, Madara, and Mito had beaten back the ferocious Kyubi, threatening him badly enough that he would never show so much as a single tail in Iwa ever again. Although there was no debt between Konoha and Iwa in Naruto’s mind, he wasn’t above using Ishikawa’s gratitude to ensure that the alliance went through.

"No, that is all very well,” Ishikawa coughed awkwardly. “But what of this clause about annual meetings?”

That was an idea he had gotten from the pre-war planning meetings between the Five Kage. Tsunade-baa-chan had told him that seeing everyone and communicating face-to-face had brought them closer than they had ever been in the history of the hidden villages. The fact that they were working together to defeat a resurrected madman with world-conquering ambitions may have helped too, but hey, he believed in the power of organized playdates between friends.

“If we’re going to be in an alliance, we’ll need to maintain good relations and communication between ourselves and our people,” he replied. “I thought that holding a meeting once a year, with our villages taking turns as hosts, would be most appropriate for this purpose.”

“Very well,” Ishikawa nodded slowly. “I confess that I wouldn’t mind an opportunity to see Konohagakure.”

Naruto grinned. “Do you have any other questions?”

Ishikawa perused the document one more time before shaking his head. “I believe that everything’s in order.”

He signed his name with a flourish then pressed his wax seal with Iwagakure’s insignia next to it. Once both copies had been dually signed and sealed, Ishikawa stood and clasped his hand firmly.

“To a long and prosperous partnership.”

“To a long and prosperous partnership,” Naruto echoed, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s been a pleasure, Ishikawa-san.”

“Likewise, Hashirama-san. Iwagakure is open to you as long as you like, but I understand that you likely have much to do back in your village after your absence.”

“Yes, as much I have enjoyed Iwagakure’s hospitality, I’m afraid that I must leave as soon as this meeting is over.”

Ishikawa nodded. “I will arrange for Daichi to escort you out of the village.”

“Thank you. I wish you the best of luck with everything. Oh, and I wanted to tell you not to worry too much over your grandson. I met him briefly, and I can tell that he is going to grow to be a fine, old shinobi someday.”

Ishikawa looked faintly puzzled, but he nodded. “All the best to you as well. Perhaps by next year’s meeting you and Mito-san will have a child of your own that I will be able to meet."

Naruto nearly choked. “R-Right,” he chuckled nervously. “I guess you never know, huh?”

With a final exchange of farewells, he left the office and returned to the inn where Sasuke, Mito, and the others were already packed and ready to depart. Daichi met them in the lobby, ready to lead them out of the village.

It wasn’t long before the epicenter of Iwagakure was behind them, and they were once again passing through the long series of checkpoints and security gates that permitted entrance into the hidden village.

As they reached the final gate, Daichi stopped and bowed formally. “This is as far as I go, Hokage-sama. May you have safe travels, and please remember that Iwagakure’s gates are always open to you.”

“Thanks, Daichi.” The man stiffened as Naruto clapped a friendly hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been a great help, and your tour of Iwakagure was especially...informative.”

That was the nicest word he could think of without lying outright. His clone’s memories had contained four hours of Daichi’s incessant droning about the various types of rocks used in Iwa’s infrastructure. There were apparently over five hundred, but to Naruto, they all looked the same. Gray, hard, and....well, rocky. Even the memories had almost been enough to put him to sleep.

Daichi bowed again. “I am pleased to have been of service, Hokage-sama.”

“Make sure you come to Konoha with the Tsuchikage next year. I’ll want to see how you’re doing, and besides”—he lowered his voice conspiratorially—“there are lots of beautiful women in Konoha. Who knows, you might even find one to take back to Iwa with you.”

Daichi colored profusely, but said nothing.

“Make sure you come, ok?” Naruto clapped his shoulder again, grinning cheerily. “I’ll look forward to seeing you then.”

To his surprise, Daichi gave a small smile. “Take care, Hokage-sama.”

As they went their separate ways, Naruto elbowed Sasuke excitedly. “Did you see that? He actually smiled.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes. “Idiot. He was just happy to finally get rid of you—and I don’t blame him.”

“That’s not true. Right, Mito?”

Mito stared at her feet, refusing to meet his eyes. “Well...”

“See?” Sasuke said with an air of triumph. “She agrees with me.”

Naruto crossed his arms and glowered darkly. “You’re traitors, the both of you.”

A few hours into their journey they stopped to rest. Naruto pulled out his canteen and drank nonchalantly, but he kept his eyes fixed on Sasuke and Mito as they retreated into the forest. No one paid them any mind—after all, even shinobi weren’t immune to nature’s call.

After marking precisely in his mind where they had gone, he too wandered off in search of some “privacy.”

Once he was a safe distance away, he set to work immediately, knowing time was of the essence. He created three shadow clones, then had two of them perform a henge to mimic Madara and Mito’s appearance.

That done, he sent the Madara and Mito clones doubling back around to where their real counterparts were and directed his own clone to go back the way he had come. If everything went according to plan, the clones would emerge from the forest after their purported bathroom break and no one would be the wiser. His men would realize the truth eventually, but by then they would be long gone.

He found Sasuke and Mito already waiting for him in their designated meeting spot.

“Are you two sure about this?” he asked. “You really don’t have to accompany me, you know.”

“Someone’s got to be there to make sure you stay out of trouble,” Sasuke said flatly.

“I’m coming,” Mito said. “I said that I would help you create a world of peace, and I don’t give my word half-heartedly. Besides,” she added in a lighter tone, “this way, I get to see more of the world.”

“Thank you—both of you,” he said, strangely moved by their show of loyalty.  Readjusting his bag over his shoulder, he said, “Well, shall we get going? It’s a long way to the Land of Wind.”

The plan was in motion, and the path was branching more than ever. He didn’t know where it would lead, but he had already promised himself that, this time, he wouldn’t have any regrets.

Chapter Text

Naruto sighed, resisting the urge to tear out his hair in frustration. Someone needed to write a Time Traveler’s Guide for Dummies with an entire chapter on how to go about explaining the future to others. Because, quite frankly, he had no idea what he was doing.

“So the war in your time was started by him?” Mito jabbed a finger at Sasuke.

“By Madara—yeah.”

“But you said that the real Hashirama killed him.”

"Yeah, he did, but it turns out that he brought himself back to life with some fancy jutsu and was hiding out in a cave the whole time.”

“So he lived in a cave for forty some years and then decided to start a war with the whole shinobi world when he was an old, decrepit man?”

“No, he wasn’t old because he died and came back to life again in a younger body.”

Mito stared at him for a full five seconds, then slowly shook her head. “Your time sounds quite complicated.”

"Yeah, you can say that again.” And he hadn’t even gotten into the little Kurama incident on his birthday, or Obito cosplaying as Madara, or the Akatsuki’s scavenger hunt for the bijuu or anything else.

Mito chewed on her lower lip, and he smiled at her uncharacteristic show of reticence. “What is it?” he asked. “I’ve told you this much, so there’s no point in holding back now.”

“Can you...” She hesitated. “Can you tell me about what I’m like in the future?”

He was almost embarrassed that he hadn’t seen that coming. Maybe there was some rule about not telling people about their future selves, but he had already broken every other rule he could think of—if there even were rules to this whole thing. He sighed inwardly. Someone really needed to write a Time Traveler’s Guide for Dummies.

“I don’t know much,” he said, “but I can tell you what I know. You had already passed away by the time I was born, but everyone in Konoha knew your name. You were in our history books and everything. You married Hashirama after he became the First Hokage, and you eventually became Kurama’s first jinchuriki.”

Her cheeks turned stark white at the mention of Kurama. “Why?” she asked faintly.

He faithfully repeated what he learned back at the Academy. This was one of the few parts of history class that he had actually paid attention to.

“Well, Madara used some Sharingan genjutsu on Kurama and made him attack Hashirama. Then you sealed him inside of you to protect Hashirama and Konoha. You were his jinchuriki until you passed him on to my mother, Kushina Uzumaki, right before your death.”

She still looked pale, but she gave a small nod of understanding.

“Anyway,” he continued, eager to change the topic, “you started a family with Hashirama and lived a long and peaceful life. I even met your granddaughter. She was one of the strongest kunoichi I knew. She could do amazing medical ninjutsu to make her look young and sexy even though she was an oba-chan and she could summon giant slugs. Her name was Tsunade, and she was the Fifth Hokage in my time.”

“Tsunade,” Mito repeated in a whisper. She swayed slightly, looking like she might faint.

Sasuke took a step closer, ready to catch her if necessary, and shot an accusing look in his direction. “Nicely done, idiot. Have you ever heard of the word ‘tact?’”

“Like you could’ve done any better,” he huffed. “If you’ve got a copy of a Time Traveler’s Guide for Dummies hanging around somewhere, let me see it.”

Sasuke looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “Just when I think you can’t be any more of an idiot, you manage to prove me wrong yet again.”

“Hey!” Naruto drew himself up, prepared to make another angry retort, but he stopped when Mito suddenly burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she said between giggles, “you two are just—so amusing.”

Naruto stared at her, then shrugged. As long as Mito was back to normal, he guessed it was alright. But it didn’t change the fact that Sasuke was wrong. He wasn’t an idiot—his friend was just too narrow-minded to see his true brilliance.

They set a hard pace for the first part of their journey, wanting to put as much distance between them and the rest of their party as possible. He had been worried about Mito at the beginning, but he had quickly learned not to ask her if she wanted to rest. Remembering the look that she had given him when he made that mistake for the first and last time still sent shivers up his spine.

And, in truth, she didn’t seem to have any trouble keeping up. It pained him to admit it, but sometimes she appeared to have more endurance than him and Sasuke. He wanted to attribute it to her Uzumaki chakra, but from the stories she told them of her village’s training, he wasn’t so sure. That Majira woman had been made of iron too, despite her prim nature and flowing attire. Maybe everyone in Uzushiogakure was simply a freak of nature.

They slowed their pace after the third day and began traveling by road rather than through the treetops. They were reaching a more populous region now—they had started passing two to three villages a day—and it wouldn’t do to draw attention to themselves. Besides, he wasn’t in any great hurry to get back to Konoha. Tobirama and Toka would be irate one way or another, so he might as well enjoy playing hooky while he could.

By the seventh day of their travels, he announced that that they had likely crossed the border into the Land of Rain.

“Gee,” Sasuke said sarcastically, his voice nearly drowned out by the torrential downpour, “what gave it away?”

They wasted no time in acquiring three of the traditional wide-brimmed straw hats that people wore in these parts. But besides hiding Mito’s conspicuous hair and shielding their eyes so they could see, the hats did little else. Every thread of their clothing was soaked, and even his hands and feet were wrinkled as if he had stayed in the bath too long.

He knew next to nothing about the Land of Rain during this time. He really should have paid more attention in history class, but how could he have known that he was going to be thrown back in time? Luckily, Hashirama’s memories supplied what he lacked. Apparently, it was a clan head’s responsibility to be knowledgeable about the economy and politics of other nations.

The Land of Rain was poor even in this era and had comparatively fewer shinobi compared to the other nations. There was no Amegakure yet, so the nation still operated under the old feudal system. But rather than clans, the Land of Rain had something called guilds. A clan, like the Uchiha or Senju, was comprised of blood relatives that typically had similar abilities, but a guild could be joined by anyone who applied and was accepted. You didn’t even have to be a shinobi—samurai and martial artists were also admitted. Much of the inner politics were the same, though. Most had a guild master or council who made important decisions. The process for selecting leaders depended on the guild. A few used voting systems, but most were decided by the more expedient methods of insurrection and assassination.

As for the civilians, the only word he could think of to describe them was fearful. Every town they entered was the same. Small huts under a dreary sky and people with drawn faces and downcast eyes scurrying about. Rumors bubbled just below the surface—and the newly formed alliance was the source of most of them. Some claimed that now that Konoha and Iwa were allies, they would come down on the Land of Rain with their combined force and wipe it from the map. Others argued that the alliance would crumble before that ever happened and that Ame would be swept up in the bloody war that followed.

From what Nagato had told him, he knew that their fears weren’t unfounded. The Land of Rain had suffered greatly in the conflicts of the Five Great Shinobi Nations, and the casualties—most of them innocent civilians—had mounted until the nation was flooded with orphans. That was just one more thing he would change this time around if he had anything to say about it.

One day they entered a town to pick up some supplies. It was larger than most they had seen, and the uniformed men strutting about told him it was home to a guild. Naruto and the others were careful to keep their heads down and draw little attention to themselves, but he could feel eyes watching them. His gut told him that something was off, and he was about to forget their shopping trip and leave when one of the guild members approached them.

The man was of less than average height, but his dark green tunic was stretched taut over broad shoulders and a well-muscled chest. He sketched a bow, his movements stilted and awkward.

“Sirs and lady, I am Ryoutaro, of The Claw of the Salamander. If you will please come with me, our guild master, Enzo-sama, requests an audience with you.” The polished words didn’t match his gruff tone and demeanor. The man was likely a former street thug who had fought his way into the guild.

Naruto thought fast, aware that Sasuke and Mito were watching him closely, waiting for his next move. The respect the man was showing them suggested that he already knew who they were. It would probably be wisest to simply hightail it out of there, but then again, where was the fun in that?

“Lead the way,” he said magnanimously.

Chapter Text

They followed Ryoutaro to a large building that must have been the guild hall. It was built in the traditional style, with gracefully sloping eaves and polished woodwork. The main door was emblazoned with a curved green claw that gleamed menacingly.

The interior of the building was dim and filled with smoke that made his chest constrict. Ryoutaro led them through a maze of hallways until they stopped at a richly decorated chamber. The smoke in the room was thick enough to make his eyes water. A gauze curtain hung on the far wall, and he could just make out a shadowed form behind the cloth.

Ryoutaro faced the curtain and bowed. “I have brought them as requested, Enzo-sama.”

“Good,” a deep voice intoned. “You may leave. And send in someone with tea.”

“Of course, Enzo-sama,” Ryoutaro replied, backing away respectfully.

“Please make yourselves comfortable,” the voice said. “You may take off your cloaks and hats and I will have an attendant hang them to dry.”

Naruto felt a Sasuke-worthy smirk coming on. So the big boss wanted to see their faces, did he? He really couldn’t have been more obvious about it if he tried.

Well, there was no point in hiding now. He took off his outerwear and, after a moment’s hesitation, Sasuke and Mito followed.

There was silence from behind the curtain, then the flaps were shoved aside abruptly, and a man stepped into view. He was balding and pot-bellied—his blunt, weathered face twisted with ugly scars. He had the look of a man who had once been a fearsome warrior, but had grown soft from a life of opulence.

“It really is you,” he breathed. “Some of my men said you were in the village, but I didn’t actually believe...” He cleared his throat. “Please pardon my rudeness, Hashirama-sama. You and your companions honor me with your presence.”

Naruto searched his memories but came up empty. “I’m sorry, have we met before?”

“Oh no, you would not remember me, Hashirama-sama. I and some members of my guild merely had the chance to witness you in battle once many years ago.”

“I see,” Naruto said. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. These are my friends—Madara Uchiha and Mito Uzumaki.”

Enzo’s eyes bulged even further, until they looked ready to pop out of his head. “A pleasure,” he murmured faintly.

A boy entered the room bearing a tray with porcelain cups and a glazed green teapot. Naruto studied him as he set the tray on the table and began pouring tea. He was too young to be a member of the guild, yet the way he moved told him that he was no ordinary servant either. Perhaps he was an apprentice of some sort.

The boy offered the first cup to Enzo, but the man drew back, scandalized. “Not me, you fool! Serve Hashirama-sama and his companions first. And hang their cloaks and hats up to dry. Don’t dawdle now. Be quick about it.”

Naruto handed his garments to the boy with an apologetic smile. The child was too thin, with fair, straggly hair that hung limply around his pinched face. He couldn’t have been much more than nine or ten, but the blue-gray eyes that stared back at him were those of an adult. The boy met his gaze fearlessly, almost with an air of challenge. Definitely no ordinary servant.

Once the boy finished his duties, he took a place near the door. Naruto had been around   

servants long enough now to know a bit about these things. The boy had purposefully chosen a spot that was far enough to be unobtrusive but near enough to see if they should need further attending.

Enzo cleared his throat delicately. Yelling at the boy had seemed to help him collect himself. “You and your companions honor the Land of Rain with your presence, Hashirama-sama. May I ask what brings you to our humble land?”

The simple question was as dangerous as a crate full of dynamite, and Naruto answered with appropriate caution.

“We are merely passing through. We don’t intend to stay long.”

“You’re quite far out of your way if you’re headed for Konohagakure.”

“It’s as you say,” he said, sipping his tea with studied nonchalance, “but we are not returning to Konoha, not yet at least.”

He could practically see the wheels in Enzo’s head turning and knew that he had to find a way to change the topic. If the man shared his fellow countrymen’s fears, this conversation would only make him more paranoid. He was still searching for something tactful to say—he could be tactful when he wanted to, no matter what Sasuke thought—when Mito spoke.

“We may be only passing through,” she said, “but we have enjoyed ourselves immensely. Your country is lovely this time of year, Enzo-sama.”

Naruto sent her a grateful look. She was much better at this whole diplomacy thing than he was. Her compliment even sounded sincere, which was impressive considering that she had spent the past week complaining about how the country was ‘a stupidly wet, waterlogged land’ and ‘the chamber pot of the world,’ among other things. 

“I’m glad to hear it,” Enzo said. “I think you’ll find that the Land of Rain has much to offer. Of course, since you are not from here, you may need someone to point these things out to you or you risk missing them.”

Naruto glanced at Sasuke and Mito, hoping for some clue of what the man was going on about, but they seemed to be just as in the dark as he was. He had no choice but to play along.

“You’ve piqued my curiosity. What things do you speak of?”

“Well, the guilds for one. You must know that the Claw of the Salamander is only one among many—and a small one at that. I make it my job to know about every guild in the country”—he lowered his voice conspiratorially—"including some information they would not want to fall into the hands of an adversary.”

At that moment, the boy—who had been refilling Enzo’s cup—lost his grip on the teapot, sloshing steaming liquid over the table.

“Fool,” Enzo hissed angrily. “Get out—and stop glaring at me like that or mark my words, I’ll throw you back onto the street where you came from. Don’t think I’ll put up with such insolence just because you have some skill.”

The boy bowed and backed out of the room, still glowering darkly.

Naruto understood how the boy felt. He knew now what Enzo was about, and it sickened him. The man thought they were scouting to prepare for an attack, and he was offering to sell out other guilds—his own countrymen—to save his neck.

“I have no interest in such information,” he said coldly. “Like I said before, we are merely passing through. We intend no harm to your guild or anyone else in the Land of Rain.”

Enzo grew very pale. “O-Of course not,” he sputtered. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

“If that is all you wished to say, we must get going.” He couldn’t bear to be in the same

room with this despicable little man for another minute. “Thank you for the tea, but we will take our leave now.”

He paused only to retrieve his cloak and hat before striding out of the room with Sasuke and Mito close on his heels. Enzo was able to do nothing but stare after them in disbelief, his mouth working soundlessly. Once outside the building, they found the boy crouched on the veranda, looking out at the drizzling rain.

“Go ahead and finish getting the supplies,” he told Sasuke and Mito. “I’ll catch up with you.”

Mito looked hesitant, but Sasuke took her firmly by the arm. “Come on. The idiot has a bad habit of trying to save every poor soul he comes across.”

“You say that like you have experience,” she said teasingly.

Naruto couldn’t resist a smile at the shocked expression on Sasuke’s face. Having Mito join their party had been a good thing. She had a softening effect on Sasuke, much like Sakura had.

He waited until the pair had turned the corner, then walked over to the boy and took a seat beside him. “You ok?”

The boy stared at him with those unblinking eyes that looked as if they had seen more than any child his age should have. “Fine,” he said tersely.

“You don’t like him very much, do you?”

“I hate him,” the boy said simply.

“Why?”

“Why do you care?”

Naruto leaned back on his hands, tipping his head to gaze up at the cloudy sky. “Just curious, that’s all.”

“I hate him because he’s a selfish pig and a coward. He thinks only of protecting his precious guild, even at the cost of betraying his own country. He forgets that the job of a guild master is to protect all the people of the Land of Rain, not just his own pathetic livelihood.”

“I see.” Naruto felt a smile tugging at his lips. The boy reminded him very much of himself when he was younger. Of course, he would have never used a word like ‘livelihood,’ but the point still stood. “What would you do differently if you were in his place?”

“I would unite all the guilds,” the boy answered without hesitation. “I would make a village—like your Konohagakure—so that the Land of Rain would be strong enough that no other nation would dare attack us.”

“That’s a big dream for one so young.”

The boy sat up straighter. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you? Well, laugh or make fun all you want. It won’t be anything I haven’t heard before.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” Naruto looked at the boy closely. There was something about him that nagged at the recesses of his memory. His own memories—not Hashirama’s. “What’s your name?” he asked.

The boy looked surprised. “Hanzo,” he said slowly.

Naruto drew back reflexively. This kid was the infamous Hanzo the Salamander?

“What is it?” the boy asked. “Why do you look at me like that?”

“It’s nothing,” he said. The boy hadn’t done anything yet, he reminded himself firmly. “I have a deal for you, Hanzo. If you can make your dream happen, an alliance with Konoha is yours. I do have one condition, though.”

“What is it?” the boy asked warily.

“Make your dream come true, but do it the right way. Become the kind of man who people want to follow—out of respect and admiration, not fear. Grow strong, but do it without shedding others’ blood.”

Hanzo shook his head. “What you ask for is impossible.”

“Difficult maybe, but not impossible. Besides, if you begin killing people to increase your own power, you become no better than Enzo. Remember that every person you kill is another citizen of the Land of Rain—one of the very people you say you want to protect.”

Hanzo was silent. He could feel him weighing and considering his words. “And if I do this,” he said at last, “you say Konoha will form an alliance with us?”

“You’ve got it.” He extended his hand. “It’s a deal.”

Hanzo shook it, still looking somewhat suspicious. “You better not go back on your word.”

“I never go back on my word. That’s my ninja way, dattebayo.” Whoops. What could he say? Old habits died hard.

Hanzo blinked. “None of the rumors mentioned how strange you were.”

Naruto threw back his head and laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He bid Hanzo the Salamander farewell and continued on his way, whistling cheerfully to himself despite the dreary weather. Ame would be different this time around. He could already feel it.

Chapter Text

Naruto reached the top of the ridge and shielded his eyes as he gazed out at the arid landscape. The constant downpours had stopped shortly after they crossed the border into the Land of Wind. Now, less than a week later, the parched ground looked as if it had never even heard of rain. The sun blazed like a molten ball of gold in the cloudless blue sky, scorching the top of his head and making his vision hazy.

Hashirama’s memories told him that the people of this land were still largely nomadic. Clans and tribes tied by blood roamed around in search of the best grazing land for their herds. ‘Best’ being a relative term, of course, since little grew here besides the scraggliest grasses and shrubs.

But recently, one clan in particular had begun to grow beyond simple family ties. The massive encampment before him was proof of that. In a few years’ time, their chief—a man called Reto—would unite several of the largest clans, establish Sunagakure, and be named the first Kazekage. That was what Sasuke said, anyway, and he had always paid better attention in history class than Naruto had.

“Well?” Mito’s voice interrupted his thoughts as she mounted the crest and came to stand beside him.

He nodded, answering her unspoken question. “It’s down there.”

Her expression grew bleak as she took in the vast number of white canvas tents that dotted the ground and seemed to stretch to the far horizon. “Your sage mode didn’t happen to tell you exactly where, did it?”

“No.” Sage mode didn’t work like that, not unless he got closer. And he had a feeling that rushing into foreign territory with sage markings might cause them to get off on the wrong foot with these people. “But it has to be with Reto.” It had to be.

“So, what’s the plan?” Sasuke asked. “Just stroll in there and ask their chief to invite us in for tea?”

“No!—I mean...maybe?” He crossed his arms defensively. “Look, if either of you have a better plan, feel free to share. There’s no such thing as a bad idea.”

“I’ve got one.” Sasuke raised his hand lazily. “We go down there and kill him. It’s easy to steal something from a corpse.”

Naruto rolled his eyes. “I take it back. That’s a terrible idea. When I said that we’re doing this peacefully, I meant it.”

He turned to Mito hopefully. “What about you? Any ideas that don’t involve killing someone?” He spared a black glare for Sasuke.

Mito shrugged and grimaced. “I’m afraid I’ve got nothing.”

He sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Well, that settles it then. It looks like we’re going with the Tea Party Plan.”

They drew eyes as they entered the camp. People who had been scurrying about with clay jugs or talking in small clusters froze and fell silent at the sight of them, while sun-darkened children stopped their play and clung to their mother’s legs. Everyone he saw wore white or beige tunics with cowls to protect them from the sun’s merciless rays. The folds of fabric concealed most of their faces in shadow, but he could feel their stares as sharply as needles pricking his skin.  

No one tried to approach or stop them, but he still moved as quickly as propriety would allow. The silence and stares made him antsy. It reminded him too much of his childhood as the village pariah.

“Any idea which way Reto’s tent is?” Mito asked under her breath.

He only shook his head. He had a vague sense that the chief’s tent would be somewhere near the center of the encampment, but beyond that, he was walking blindly.

After a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, a child’s shriek finally shattered the stifling silence. “Give it back!”

His eyes sought out the source of the commotion. Two children sat playing on the dusty, cracked ground. A young girl—probably no older than six or seven—had her arms outstretched towards a boy who held a crudely carved wooden puppet.

“I just want to look at it,” the boy said.

“I said give it back, Ebizo! You’ll break it!”

“I’ll give it back when I’m ready.”

The girl lunged forward in a desperate attempt to wrest the puppet from his grip. She managed to grasp one of the legs, but at that moment, the boy jerked it back abruptly and the limb splintered with a loud crack.

The girl gaped in dismay, and even the boy looked slightly abashed. “You broke it,” she said in a quavering voice.

“Here,” the boy muttered, thrusting the puppet roughly towards her. “It’s your fault for grabbing it like that. I was going to give it back.”

The girl cradled the broken puppet as if it were made of glass. “I finally convinced papa to give me enough wood to make it. But now—now he’ll never give me more to make another one.” Her lower lip trembled dangerously, and it was clear she was on the verge of dissolving into tears.

Naruto took a step toward them, and both children looked up, noticing his presence at last. The girl made a small squeaking sound, while the boy’s jaw dropped in a comical manner.

He put on his friendliest smile. “Hello.” He took another step forward, his hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. “Do you mind if I take a look at your puppet? I think I can help.”

The girl still wore the expression of a rabbit caught in a snare, but she made no move to resist as he eased the puppet gently from her arms.

He glanced at his companions. Mito shook her head warningly, but Sasuke wore a resigned expression. His friend knew him well enough to know there was no talking him out of what he was about to do.

With a simple wood technique, he created a new leg that was grafted from the puppet’s body, then handed it back with a smile. “There you go. As good as new.”

The girl took it automatically, a look of wonder mingled with fear on her face.

“Ebizo! Chiyo!” a woman called from a nearby tent. Her shrill voice was edged with barely concealed panic. “Come here this instant!”

The children quickly picked themselves up from the dirt and scampered inside, disappearing behind white tent flaps.

Naruto watched them go with a wondering expression of his own. That wisp of a girl had been Chiyo-baa-chan? A smile crept over his face. This time traveling thing was turning out to be pretty interesting.

They continued walking, but the stares had intensified tenfold, and now he could hear buzzing whispers trailing behind them. And why not? He had just exposed himself as a shinobi—and not just any shinobi, but as Hashirama Senju—likely the most powerful shinobi of this age.

He half expected someone to attack them, or at least try to force them out, but nothing happened. Every person in the camp merely stood by and watched in silence. It was almost...eerie.

He thought that they had to be nearing the heart of the settlement when someone finally approached them. It was a stately, middle-aged man with a weatherworn face that looked like it was made of leather. His snowy white tunic was embroidered with red thread around the collar and hem.

The man made an elegant bow and intoned, “Welcome, travelers. Our chief, Reto-sama, is honored by your arrival and offers you shade and refreshments in his tents. Would you please come with me?”

There seemed to be nothing to do but agree and follow. Still, Naruto remained alert and tensed, ready for any signs of a trap. A quick glance told him that Sasuke and Mito were equally on edge. Sasuke especially looked as tightly wound as a metal spring, and Naruto prayed that he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

It wasn’t long before they arrived at a massive tent, far larger than any others they had seen. Upon closer inspection he realized that it was actually three tents—a large one in the middle, flanked by two smaller.

Their guide—Naruto guessed that he was a head servant of some sort—pushed aside an entrance flap that was ornately decorated with scenes of grazing sheep and goats. The inside of the tent was dim and cool. After the sea of white and neutral colors he had seen thus far, it was unexpectedly colorful. A rainbow of tapestries had been hung on the walls, and rugs in just as many hues covered the floors. A low wooden table stood in the center, surrounded by cushions that were vibrant enough to make his beloved old jumpsuit look dull.

“Please be seated,” their guide said in a voice of studied politeness. “Reto-sama will be with you shortly.”

No sooner had they situated themselves on the cushions than the flaps that connected to one of the adjoining tents opened, admitting half a dozen servant women in white tunics bound at the waist by a simple red cord. They didn’t wear cowls, likely because they were inside, but gauzy veils covered all of their faces except for their eyes.

The women bore platters piled high with dates, plums, and other dried fruits and nuts. He and the others were each given two earthenware cups—one filled with tea and the other with a creamy white liquid. When he asked about the contents of the second cup, he was told that it was ‘chilled goat’s milk.’ He stammered out thanks, but decided to stick with the tea and leave it at that.

His eyes scanned the room furtively as he brought the steaming mug to his lips. Kurama’s words ran through his mind.

“Reto will have it close to him—probably somewhere in his tents. They move around so frequently that it won’t be buried underground. My guess is it’ll be hiding in plain sight.”

His gaze eventually landed on a medium-sized box in the far corner of the tent. It was covered with a purple cloth fringed with golden tassels. Hiding in plain sight...huh?

“I apologize for making you wait.” The tent flap brushed aside, and a tall, hard-faced man strode into the tent. His dark auburn hair stood up wildly in all directions, and if Naruto hadn’t known better, he would have thought he had a bad case of bedhead.

The man lowered himself onto the cushions in a single smooth motion that spoke of years of practice. One of the female servants knelt beside him with a tray of delicacies, but he took only the mug of chilled goat’s milk before pushing the rest away. Naruto watched in disbelief. What an odd fellow.

“Leave us,” the man said curtly, and the servants bowed and dispersed like smoke in the wind.

Once they were alone, he spoke in a deep, rumbling voice. “I am Reto, Chief of the Sandstorm Clan. You are welcome here. Our shade is your shade, and our water is your water.”

"Thank you for your hospitality,” Naruto replied, matching the man’s formality. “I’m—”

“I know who you are, Hashirama Senju.” There was no levity in his voice, yet his eyes seemed to twinkle slightly. “Word travels fast, even in the desert.”

Naruto felt his brows raise. The man knew who he was, yet he had invited him into his home without blinking an eye.

“It may be hard for you to understand since you are not from here,” Reto said, “but desert law states that we cannot raise a hand against any travelers in our midst, unless they raise a hand against us first.”

“Well, you can be at ease, because we don’t want any trouble. We’re only here because we’re searching for something. Once we have it, we’ll be on our way.”

Reto took a sip from his mug before replying in measured tones, “I see. And what is it that you seek?”

Naruto gestured towards the box. “I believe you have it right there.”

The slight narrowing of the man’s eyes told him everything he needed to know. It looked like his intuition had been right on.

“I’m afraid that is out of the question, Senju-san. That box holds something that is precious to my clan.”

“Really?” Naruto asked, casually popping a plump date into his mouth. “That’s funny, considering that it doesn’t even belong to you.”

Reto’s eyes narrowed further, until they were shards of obsidian in his stony face.

“If you won’t hand it over,” Naruto continued lightly, “we’ll have no choice but to take it. Just out of curiosity—what does your desert law say about that?”

He heard Sasuke and Mito shift on their cushions, but thankfully they remained quiet.

“It says”—Reto’s voice was icy enough to freeze over the desert—“that we may attack any thief with the intent to draw lifeblood. Or, as people say where you’re from—we may kill you.”

“I see.” Naruto gave an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. “I guess that means our negotiations are at an end.” He turned to Sasuke. “You’re up, but remember what we talked about.”

“I know already,” Sasuke muttered. He locked eyes with Reto, his Sharingan spinning in a kaleidoscopic pattern. “Infinite Tsukiyomi!”

A second later the clan chief slumped over the low table like a sack of rice. Naruto knew he wouldn’t be getting up for a while.

“What’d you show him?” he asked.

“I didn’t hurt him, just like you wanted, so does it matter?”

The gleam in Sasuke’s eyes made him strangely uneasy, but he shrugged it off. “I guess not.”

Standing, he walked over to the box and pried open the lid with a kunai. Inside was a black tea kettle covered in seals. Bingo. He lifted it out carefully and tucked it into the crook of his arm.

“Alright,” he said, turning back to Sasuke and Mito. “Let’s get out of here.”

Reto would be out for a while, but it would be best to leave before any of his attendants grew suspicious and came back to check on them. He paused only long enough to leave a hastily scrawled note on the table before exiting the tent.

Dear Reto,

I’ll be taking our mutual friend with me. I’m sorry that it had to go down like this, but I’d rather ask for forgiveness than permission. I wouldn’t recommend coming after us, unless you want your whole clan to know that you’ve been keeping a super powerful bijuu locked up inside a tea kettle in your tent. I know that you might miss me, but I have a feeling we’ll be meeting again, so look forward to it.

-Hashirama Senju

P.S. If you happen to start a village someday, “Sunagakure” has a nice ring to it. Think about it, ok?

He chuckled to himself as they raced over sandy dunes at top speed. He only wished that he could be there to see Reto’s reaction when he read it. This time traveling thing was turning out to be very interesting indeed.

Chapter Text

“Incredible,” Mito said. Her voice was tinged with awe—and fear, as well. “I’ve never felt such a massive amount of chakra before.”

Naruto grinned. “It looks like Kurama kept up his end of the deal.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked.

“It’ll be fine. They’re not so bad once you get to know them.”

“I see,” Mito murmured, looking anything but convinced.

Kurama and the others were already waiting in a picturesque forest clearing. His heart filled with warmth at the sight of them. He had come to think of the tailed beasts as friends during the war, and it was good to see them—even if they weren’t quite the same as the ones he had come to know.

He scrambled agilely down the side of the cliff. “Hey, Kurama!” he waved. “You actually did it.”

“Obviously,” the giant fox snorted indignantly.

Naruto grinned at the circle of bijuu. “Hey, guys. It’s good to see you all again.” He paused, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Although I guess you probably don’t remember, huh?”

"This is who we’ve been waiting for?” Son Goku growled. “A measly, pathetic human?”

“Not him,” Kurama snapped in annoyance. He looked at Naruto. “Did you get it?”

"Obviously.” He gave an impish grin as Kurama rolled his eyes. “Mito’s got him.”

He beckoned her forward encouragingly. Mito’s face was as white as a sheet, but she stepped into the circle of bijuu with her head held high, clutching the tea kettle under her arm. The woman had guts, he had to give her that. Watching her now, it wasn’t hard to see how she had become the first jinchuriki.

“I know that chakra signature,” Matatabi breathed, eyeing the kettle. “Is that...?”

Kurama nodded. “Shukaku’s inside. Monks in the Land of Wind put a seal on him, but we’re going to undo it.”

“It would take an immensely strong and complex seal to hold him,” Son Goku spoke up. “How do you propose to break it? None of us have any knowledge of the sealing arts.”

“Lucky for you, I have an Uzumaki seal master with me,” Naruto said. “Mito’s already studied the seal and she said she can do it. Right, Mito?”

She gave a small nod, her lips set in a tight line. She had been adamantly against this plan at first. He had managed to persuade her, but she was still skeptical about the wisdom of unleashing a massive chakra monster upon mankind.

“What are we waiting for then?” Gyuki rumbled. “Get to it, girl.”

"Now, Gyuki,” Naruto admonished. “That’s no way to talk to someone who’s going out of their way to help you. You still need to work on your manners, I see.”  

Gyuki's eyes swiveled to him. “And who are you exactly? How do you know my true name?”

Naruto sighed. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Mito straightened and stood. “It’s ready,” she said. “All you need to do is channel chakra into the seal and it will be released.”

“Thanks, Mito. You can go back now. You won’t want to be too close when the top blows off this thing.”

Mito looked as if she might melt with relief, but she retreated with measured, even steps, not hurrying in the slightest. Yep, the woman definitely had guts.

He bent down and rested a hand lightly on the seal, careful not to channel any chakra into it yet. “Ready whenever you are,” he told Kurama.

“Listen up,” Kurama said to the other bijuu. “All of you need to be touching me for this to work. It can be a paw, a tail, anything—just as long as there’s contact.”

The others grumbled slightly, but their interest must have been piqued, because they did what he said without objecting.

Once they were in position, Kurama turned to Naruto. “Do it.”

He channeled chakra and immediately felt the seal activate under his palm. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but then the tea kettle began to rattle violently. A bright flash of light filled the sky, forcing him to shield his eyes. When he was able to see again, Shukaku was standing in front of him—and he was furious.

“How dare you lock me up—the great Shukaku?” he rumbled, a bijuu dama already forming between his open jaws.

Kurama swiftly flicked one of his tails and rested it on Shukaku’s shoulder. His friend was glowing with a strange aura Naruto had never seen before. A look of confusion crossed Shukaku’s face as his technique sputtered out to nothing.

Naruto exhaled deeply. He would have never survived the attack at this range, and dying would have put a small wrench in his plans to save the world.

The strange glow spread to the other bijuu, encompassing each of them in turn. Kurama’s words echoed in his mind.

“For tailed beasts, chakra is our life essence. It makes up not only our physical forms, but our thoughts, our feelings—even our memories. When you were sent back, I believe that the chakra the others gave you was sent back as well. It lies dormant within them now, but if I share my chakra—my own memories—with them, perhaps it will help them remember.”

The entire ring of bijuu was glowing now, surrounded in a halo of light. Naruto watched with bated breath. This would work. It had to.

The glow faded at last, and the tailed beasts turned to him.

“Naruto?” Gyuki asked slowly. “Is that really you?”

He grinned broadly and bowed with a flourish. “The one and only, dattebayo. I can’t tell you how good it is to have you guys back.”

“Yeah, well you certainly took your time getting me out of that cursed kettle,” Shukaku groused, rubbing the back of his neck irritably.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled apologetically, “but I couldn’t risk you going berserk on us. Not without Kurama there to get your memories back.”

“I don’t understand,” Isobu said. “How are you here—in this time?”

“I don’t really get it either,” he admitted, “but I intend to make the most of our second chance. That’s why I called you all here. I want things to be different this time. No wars, no senseless deaths, and no jinchuriki.”

That last bit certainly caught their attention.

“No jinchuriki?” Shukaku repeated incredulously. “How on earth do you intend to do that?”

“The way I see it, you all have two choices.” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the flurry of excited murmurs. “The first is for you to live in isolation from humans. I would help you find a safe place and make sure it stays that way. The other,” he continued, “is for you to work together with humans in an equal partnership.”

“It’s impossible,” Saiken said, shaking her head. “As long as humans fear and covet our power, we’ll never be able to work together with them. Not all humans are like you, Naruto.”

“I know it won’t be easy, but I have a plan. I’m going to need your support, though.” He looked at each of them. “What do you guys say?”

“If it’s you, Naruto-kun,” Matatabi said at length, “it just may work. Tell us what you want us to do and we’ll do it.”

The others voiced their agreement, but he noticed that Gyuki remained unusually quiet. Naruto thought he had a pretty good idea of why.

He walked over and placed a hand on the bijuu’s arm. “Even if Bee isn’t your jinchuriki, you can still be friends with him, you know.”

Gyuki nodded, looking resolved. “So, how do we start this plan of yours?”

“Right,” Naruto said. “Well, the first thing we’ve gotta do is some major rebranding...”

As he explained his plan, he felt his dream of changing the world grow one step closer. He wouldn’t mess it up—not this time. He would make it happen—or his name wasn’t Naruto Uzumaki.

Chapter Text

Naruto had faced countless life and death situations before—heck, he had technically even died once—but few had managed to inspire the sheer dread he was experiencing right now.

"You know,” he said nervously, “now that I think of it, Kurama and the others might need help. Maybe I should—”

“Enough,” Sasuke cut in flatly. “Stalling will only make things worse. Just go in there and get this over with like the fearless idiot that you are.”

Naruto wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a compliment or not, so he settled for an indignant huff. With Sasuke, it was always best to assume the worst.

“I would like to meet this Toka,” Mito said. “You didn’t bat an eye when facing the bijuu, yet you fear seeing her. She must be a formidable person indeed.”

"Formidable doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Naruto replied wanly.

The dirt path they were on curved gently, bringing Konoha’s main gate into view. He briefly considered making a run for it, but Sasuke would just catch him and drag him back. Even if he did manage to escape, his friend was right—as much as he hated to admit it. Stalling would only delay the inevitable.

He took a deep breath and continued towards the gate, trying to shake the feeling that he was marching towards an executioner’s block.

The guards let them in without question, exclaiming expressions of relief and gratitude at seeing his safe return. He commanded them—with as much authority as he could muster—not to tell anyone, but he could tell from their faces that he was wasting his breath. Soon the entire village would know that he was back.

He walked close to Sasuke, speaking under his breath. “Come meet me later when things have calmed down. For now, I’m going to try to make it to the Senju compound.”

Sasuke nodded understanding, directing his own footsteps towards the Uchiha grounds.

Naruto and Mito hastened side-by-side through the streets. He had hoped to reach the compound without running into anyone, but it was not to be. Tobirama stood waiting at the entrance, arms crossed sternly over his chest.

Naruto swallowed. And so, it began.

“Hello, brother,” Tobirama said. “How was your trip?”

“Tobirama, I can explain—”

The silver-haired man strode forward and stabbed an accusing finger into his chest. “Three months,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’ve been gone for three months, and you didn’t even have the decency to let me know where you were or if you were even alive.”

“But I wrote to you!” he protested.

Tobirama gave a derisive snort. “Sending one letter that only said, ‘I’ll keep our promise, don’t worry’ hardly counts as writing.”

“Look, I’m sorry, ok? I should’ve written more, but I thought you would get what it meant. I have no intention of dying until our promise is fulfilled, and I never go back on my word.”

“You really think a measly apology is going to fix this?”

“Then what do—?”

His words broke off in a strangled gasp as Tobirama punched him hard in the gut. He

started to stagger backwards, but the other man quickly twined his arms around him, steadying him. It was almost...a hug?

Tobirama leaned forward to speak in his ear. “If you ever try anything like that again, I will kill you myself. Is that understood, brother?”

Naruto nodded, still gasping for breath.

“Good.” Tobirama released him and straightened his collar. “Now, you and Mito-sama must head straight for your office. Majira-sama has already heard of your return and is anxious to see you. And I should warn you, brother. She is far from pleased.”

Naruto heaved a dismal sigh. “Understood.” He hesitated, almost too afraid to ask. “And Toka...? How is she?”

It might have been his imagination, but he was almost certain that Tobirama’s answering smirk held a hint of malicious glee. “You’ll have to wait until you see her to find out.”

A chill ran down his spine. It appeared that the situation was even worse than he had feared.

As they started towards the Hokage tower, Mito glanced back over her shoulder. “I thought it before too, but he truly is an intimidating man.”

“Just wait until you get to know Toka,” he sighed. “Tobirama’s a lamb compared to her.”

All too soon, they arrived at his tower. He and Mito stood staring at the door to his office, neither of them wanting to open it.

“You ready for this?” he asked, glancing over at her.

Mito had replaced the veil covering her face, but he could still sense her reluctance. “As long as we stick to the plan, we’ll be fine,” she said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself as much as him.

Taking a deep breath, Naruto pushed open the door and strode into the room. Majira, who had been pacing, stopped abruptly at the sight of them.

“Mito-sama,” she cried, rushing to the younger woman’s side. “Are you well?”

“I am well,” Mito replied meekly.

“Troublesome child,” Majira said, shaking her head. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? What were you thinking, going off like that without permission?”

“Majira-sama, you shouldn’t blame her,” Naruto broke in. “She wanted to return much sooner, but I convinced her to stay with me.”

She turned on him with a withering stare. “Have no fear in that regard, Hashirama-sama. I know very well that you also hold responsibility for this scandal. Now that you have returned, I expect you to wed Mito-sama immediately. Your business in Iwagakure is finished, so there is no reason for further delay.”

“I do intend to marry Mito,” he said, hoping he sounded appropriately earnest, “but I wish to honor Uzushiogakure’s customs in doing so.”

Majira looked wary. “What customs do you speak of?”

Squaring his shoulders, he said boldly, “I want to find a soul shell and present it to Mito to consummate our marriage.”

“A soul shell?” Majira echoed incredulously. “That tradition is rarely adhered to these days, even amongst our own people. A foreigner such as yourself has no obligation to follow it.”

“That may be so, but I feel strongly that it would not be right to marry Mito without honoring this custom.”

“Then the wedding will have to be postponed,” Majira said with obvious reluctance. “Soul shells must be found on a small isle off the coast, and the currents are so strong that it can only be reached in the spring.” Her eyes narrowed. “Although, I suspect you were already aware of that.”

Naruto pretended not to see the piercing suspicion in her gaze. “Then as much as it pains me, we will wait until spring. Is that alright with you, Mito?”

“Yes, Hashirama-sama,” she replied in a perfect imitation of demureness. It was quite impressive, really. He knew her true personality, yet he still found himself almost believing the act.

“Very well,” Majira said, “but know that as soon as the first buds appear, we will go to Uzushiogakure and complete your marriage rites. There can be no further delay. Mito-sama’s reputation—as well as that of our village—is at stake.”

She swept out of the room, a tempest in cerulean silks—leaving Naruto, at least, with a feeling of having narrowly survived a maelstrom.

“I don’t think she bought it,” he said, slumping into his chair.

“Of course, she didn’t,” Mito said, tossing her veil aside, “but she had no choice but to accept. Majira’s always been a stickler for tradition.”

“Well, we bought ourselves a few months, at least. We’ll just have to figure out the rest from there.”

She nodded. They had agreed to put their marriage on hold—for now, at least. Truthfully, he was just stalling, putting off having to make a decision. They were no longer adhering to the original timeline, so there was no real need for them to continue their betrothal. And though they cared about each other, his relationship with Mito reminded him of the one he had shared with Sakura. She was a precious friend and close confidant, but never a romantic partner—despite how he had thought he felt about Sakura as a young genin.

That was right, there was no longer any reason for them to marry, except...

Tsunade’s grinning face materialized in his mind. If he and Mito ended things, she wouldn’t be born in this world. He couldn’t bear accepting that he would never see her again—and so, he stalled.

“Well, I’m going to go and wash off the travel dust,” Mito said. “Care to accompany me?”

He shook his head. He could sense Toka’s chakra presence outside the door. “There’s someone I have to see first.”

Mito gave him a knowing, sympathetic smile. “Good luck.”

Once he was alone, he took a moment to survey his surroundings. His office was neat and tidy—the windows showed his reflection clearly and the furniture had been polished until it gleamed. There were stacks of papers on his desk, but not as many as he had expected. Toka had been hard at work. He swallowed hard. Best to get this over with.

“Toka, you can come in,” he called.

The petite woman entered, her dark honey hair in its usual tight bun with bangs sweeping over one eye. “Welcome back, Hokage-sama. I have my report on proceedings during your absence, if you wish to hear it.”

He was too taken aback to do anything but nod. He had tried to picture her reaction, but nothing he imagined had been anything like this.

She gave her report in a steady, almost droning voice. He tried to look like he was paying attention, but in truth, he scarcely heard a word. What was going on? Why wasn’t she scolding him within an inch of his life?

When she was finished, he stammered a thank you, and she gave a stiff bow. “Is there anything else, Hokage-sama?”

She started towards the door without waiting for an answer, but he jumped to his feet, nearly knocking the chair over in his haste. “Toka, wait.”

She turned back to him, her face an expressionless mask. If this was some new method of torture, it was working. He would rather be beaten any day than have her look at him with such dull, lifeless eyes.

“T-Toka, I’m sorry for going off without telling you, but I—”

“You’re sorry?” she said quietly.

“Yes. I know you’re probably furious, and you have every right to be, but—"

His eyes widened as she launched herself towards him. He braced himself instinctively for an attack, but instead she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.

“How could you?” Her entire body was trembling like a leaf. “If anything happened to you...” She dug her fingers into his chest. “How could you?”

For a moment he simply stood there, stunned. He had never expected her to react so strongly, but he saw now that he had made a grave miscalculation. Toka wasn’t just angry, she was shaken to her core. For all her bravado, she was still just a young woman who had lost her entire family. Left with nothing else, she had devoted herself to supporting him with almost single-minded obsessiveness. Hashirama had unwittingly become her pillar, and without him, the very foundation of her world began to crumble.

“Toka...” He stroked her hair hesitantly. She stiffened, but she didn’t try to break his arm, so he took that for acceptance. “I’m so sorry, I—” He stopped as an idea occurred to him. “Tomorrow at noon—will you meet me in front of my office? I don’t know if I’ll be able to make this up to you, but I want to try.”

She released him, some of her composure regained. “Fine, but it had better be good. If not, I’ll have to think of creative ways to make you suffer.”

He actually laughed with relief. “It’s a deal.”

“But for today,” she continued sternly, “you have paperwork to do. I’ve bailed you out for the past three months, so don’t expect any help from me for a long time. Oh, and if you even think about complaining, I’ll cut your tongue off.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he saluted cheerily. The Toka he knew was back—and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter Text

Ever since he had hurtled into the past, Hashirama’s memories had aided Naruto with everything from getting dressed to understanding the political infrastructure of this era. However, the memories had never been more important than they were at this moment.

Well, he amended, figuring out how to dress himself might actually take the prize, but this was a close second.

He waved as Toka came into view, trying to hide his nervousness. Hashirama’s memories had better be right, or he was in for a long—and likely painful—afternoon.

She wore civilian clothes—dark green trousers that billowed around her legs, and a beige blouse with matching green trim. The outfit reminded him of the sort of thing Tenten used to wear.

She approached him stiffly with a face that clearly said, “This had better be good...or else.”

He put on his best grin. “Hey, Toka. Thanks for coming.”   

“If you intend to use this as an excuse to put off your work, you should know that I will not allow it, Hashirama.”

“That’s not it,” he assured her. “I already finished all of my work for the morning.” Luckily, he had been prepared for this eventuality. Hurrying into an adjoining room, he dragged Tobirama out of his office. “Tell her.”

“It’s true, believe it or not,” Tobirama said, voice tinged with amusement. “He’s been working like a fiend since shortly after dawn. Even more remarkably, he actually finished everything on his morning agenda.”

Toka eyed him flatly. He waited for some expression of surprise or perhaps even a word of praise, but all she said was, “Very well. Let’s go.”

They walked side by side through Konoha’s bustling streets. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she asked.

“Of course not. That would ruin the surprise.”

She sniffed in annoyance, but said nothing. He sighed inwardly. Those memories had better be right.

“We’re almost there,” he said, mostly to break the stifling silence.

Toka’s brow furrowed. “But this is a civilian residential district. What could you possibly—?” She cut off as he walked up to an ordinary looking home and knocked on the door.

“What on earth are you doing?” she asked, sounding scandalized.

He glanced back at her with a secretive smile. “You’ll see.”

The door swung open, revealing a plump, pretty woman with kind eyes. She wore a simple frock, and her dark hair was done up neatly in a bun.

“Welcome, Hokage-sama, Toka-sama.” The bow she gave them was refreshingly unpolished. “Please come in and make yourself at home.”

“Thanks, Mitarashi-san.”

He stepped into the narrow entry hall, leaving Toka with no choice but to follow. He turned into a small dining room with tatami mat floors and took a seat at a table that had already been set for two.

He beckoned for Toka to join him. She bristled like an angry cat, but eventually obeyed.

There was a sudden sound of small feet pattering down the hallway. “Mommy!” A round-faced child of about six peeped through the doorway. “Is the H’age here?”

“It’s Hokage-sama,” Mitarashi-san corrected patiently. “And you must mind your manners, Hanami. Run along now—you’re disturbing the Hokage and Toka-sama.”

The little girl’s lips formed a pout, but she turned and scampered away without a word.

“My apologies, Hokage-sama,” Mitarashi-san smiled. “Everything’s ready, so I’ll have it right out.”

She bustled into the kitchen and returned a few moments later bearing a black lacquered tray. She filled their cups with aromatic green tea, then handed them each a plate with three sticks of perfectly formed pink, white, and green dango.

Toka looked at her plate, then back to Naruto. He smiled at her cheerily, pretending not to notice as he popped one of the confections into his mouth.

“Don’t be rude,” he said around a mouthful of dango. “Try one.”

She looked like she wanted to slap him, but in the end, courtesy won out and she took a delicate bite. Her eyes widened in amazement, and Naruto knew in that moment that Hashirama’s memories hadn’t led him astray.

“Here.” He held out a small wrapped parcel. “They’re confections that I bought at one of the villages we passed through. The shop is supposed to be quite famous for them.”

Toka’s eyes rested longingly on the parcel for a fleeting moment before she tore her gaze away. “I don’t need them. Give them to Tobirama.”

“He hates sweets, so they’ll just go to waste. Come on, just take them. Please?”

“Fine.” She snatched the parcel from his hand and stalked away.

Later that evening, he had overheard a few of the servants talking.

“You should have seen her face light up as she ate them,” a pleasant-faced woman said. He recognized her as Toka’s personal servant. “My, she was absolutely adorable.”

“I would have never thought that stone-like child would enjoy something like sweets,” another said. “I guess she is just a normal maiden at heart, after all.”

That was the precise moment Hashirama realized that Toka—the toughest, most fearsome girl he knew—had a sweet tooth unlike any other.

“These are delicious, Mitarashi-san,” Toka said, drawing him back to the present. “Do you sell them?”

The woman looked astonished at the idea. “Oh no, Toka-sama, it’s just a simple family recipe. I’ve never dreamed of trying to sell them.”

“You should,” Naruto chimed in. “You’d definitely do well.”

“You’re both too kind,” Mitarashi-san said, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. “There’s plenty more in the kitchen, so please eat as much as you’d like.”

He and Toka devoured sticks of dango until they were bursting, but at length it was time to go. Little Hanami made another appearance as they headed to the door.

“Bye, bye, H’age-sama and pretty lady-sama,” she said, waving at them with a wide, impish grin. “Thanks for coming and eating our dango!”

Toka smiled and Naruto bent to tousle the child’s unruly purple hair. They thanked Mitarashi-san again, then walked back out into the street.

“That child can use chakra,” Toka said quietly.

“I know.”

“It’s a pity that she’ll never learn to use it—being a civilian.”

Naruto glanced at her with a sidelong smile. “Well, you never know what might happen in the future.”

“So this was your grand plan then?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Stuff me with sweets and expect me to forgive you?”

“That depends,” he shrugged. “Did it work?”

She glared at him. “I rue the day you found out that I enjoy sweets.”

“What?” he teased lightly. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It shows that you’re ‘just a normal maiden at heart.’” He used a falsetto voice, imitating the servant from all those years ago.

Toka shoved him hard in the arm. “Shut it.”

“But they were good, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, they were good. It wasn’t flattery when I told her she could sell them. But how did you hear about her?”

“It’s a long story,” he replied. And you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

It had happened shortly before the war. Kakashi had suddenly shown up at his apartment and dragged him to a bar for company. Ill-advised, perhaps, but this was Kakashi they were talking about. Anko had been there too—already as drunk as a sailor. She had talked Naruto’s ear off for hours about her great-grandmother who had moved to Konoha and opened the village’s original dango shop. It had been wildly successful, but the shop had been taken over by another family after Anko’s parents died.

Her retelling had been accompanied by several slurred declarations that dango was her “family’s legacy” and vows to eat at least five sticks a day to “honor her parents’ memory.” It had all sounded perfectly logical—as long as you were as drunk as she was.

He had been reminded of the story about a month ago when he saw Mitarashi-san’s name in the list of new citizens. The rest of the arrangements had been simple enough. Mitarashi-san had been perplexed by his odd request, but in the end, she had no qualms with allowing the Hokage and his companion into her home to try some of her dango.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said. “Even if it doesn’t make up for everything, I still wanted to do this to thank you.”

“For what?”

“A while ago you told me that I wasn’t the type of person to think things through. You said that I do the right thing, and then deal with the rest as it comes. I wasn’t ready to hear it at the time, but you were right. I know it’s a little late, but I wanted to say thank you—for helping me remember that.”

She eyed him closely. “You’ve changed.”

“Yeah, I guess I have,” he said with a small smile. “Change can be good, though. I know that now.”

He had considered telling Toka the truth, but had ultimately decided against it. The more people that knew, the more complicated things would become. And after seeing how much she depended on Hashirama, he didn’t relish the idea of telling her that her childhood friend had been replaced by a total stranger.

“Well, I don’t really get it,” Toka said at last, “but you’re welcome.”

He grinned. “So, what’s the verdict? Are you still going to think of creative ways to make me suffer?”

“I’ll let you off this time, but if you ever try anything like that again, mark my words Hashirama Senju, I will kill you myself.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I think you’ll have to get in line.”

Chapter Text

“Thank you all for coming today,” Naruto said, looking at each face around the long, oval table in turn. “I know we have a lot to do in light of my absence, so let’s go ahead and get started. Tobirama, what’s first on the agenda?”

The white-haired man nodded, arranging the papers in front of him so they were perfectly flush with the table. “First up we have external affairs. I’ll let Shimura-san take the floor.”

The Yamanaka clan had originally handled intelligence for both Konoha and the surrounding nations, but it had quickly become apparent that the responsibilities were too much for a single clan. The Shimura had been more than happy to step in and volunteer their services. Naruto still didn’t trust the clan or their beady-eyed leader, but he had to admit they had been effective in the role so far.

“Thank you, Tobirama-san,” Abe Shimura said, his voice thin and reedy. “I will begin by providing a brief update on the status in the other nations, per my sources’ reports. Reto in the Land of Wind continues to gain influence, but their disorganized sand nomads are a long way from being any threat to Konoha. I have my subordinates closely monitoring the situation in Iwagakure, but we have yet to detect any evidence of aggression or ill intent. They appear to be holding to the treaty—for now.” His tone indicated that he didn’t expect this to last for long. “Ame is still a snake’s pit of guilds and bandits, and the few spies I have in Lightning and Water likewise report no developments of consequence.

“My primary concern at this moment,” he continued, “and the issue that I wish to draw attention to during this meeting, is the alarming increase in bijuu sightings. My spies alone have reported incidents involving bijuu in all five major nations, as well as multiple smaller nations.”

Several members around the table shifted uncomfortably. They had all heard the rumors, but having them confirmed was a different story.

“What type of damage has there been?” Chojuro Akimichi—head of the Akimichi clan—asked.

“That’s just it,” Abe replied grimly. “According to my men, there’s been none.”

“That can’t be correct,” Inoue Yamanaka said. “I heard just a few days ago that the Kyubi burned down a home a half day south from here.”

“According to my source, the house was already aflame,” Abe said. “The Kyubi arrived afterward and saved three children who were trapped inside.”

The room filled with disbelieving murmurs.

“The other reports are all similar,” Shimura went on. “Bijuu saving people from fires, floods, or landslides. Stopping bandits and leaving them bound up in the middle of the road. Returning missing children and lost pets. They are apparently calling themselves ‘The Protectors of Peace.’”

Naruto sat a little straighter. He was proud of the name he had come up with. The “Protectors of Peace” had been a hero group in one of his favorite comic books when he was a kid. No one knew that, of course—not even Sasuke. His friend had never been the type to read what he referred to as “junk food for the eyes.”

There was silence for several heartbeats following this announcement, then Jinzo Uchiha spoke. He was the oldest and most influential of the Uchiha elders, and he had all but strong-armed his way onto a village council that was primarily comprised of clan heads.

“The ‘Protectors of Peace?’” he repeated scornfully. “I’ve never heard anything so absurd.”

“What’s absurd about it?” Naruto said before he could stop himself. “It’s a fine name.”

He was met with a dozen blank stares.

“I’m just saying,” he continued defensively, “as long as they’re not hurting anything, it’s fine, isn’t it?”

More stares.

Tobirama cleared his throat. “I think what the Hokage is trying to say is that as long as our citizens and property remain unharmed, we should monitor the situation, but stay uninvolved. It would be unwise to rush headlong into a battle with the bijuu without more information as to their motives.”

There were nods of agreement around the table.

Tobirama turned to Abe. “Is there anything else you’d like to add, Shimura-sama?”

The beady-eyed man shook his head, his expression a trifle sullen. Everyone knew there was no clan who were larger warmongers than the Shimura, with the exception, perhaps, of the Uchiha.

“Very well, then I will move to the next item on our agenda.” They swiftly went through several matters of little interest to Naruto—import costs, infrastructure, and stipulations for opening businesses.

But finally, they made it to the part of the meeting he had been waiting for.

“As most of you are aware,” Tobirama said, “Konoha’s population is increasing rapidly. Crime is still low, but it is only logical that it will rise with time. I believe that our best response is to act preemptively to address this issue. With that being said, the Hokage would like to bring a proposal before the council.”

Naruto drew a steadying breath as all eyes fell on him. He and Sasuke had spent many nights discussing the issue of the Uchiha’s involvement in the police force. They had finally landed upon what he thought was a perfect solution, but now everything hinged on whether he could get the council to go along with it.

“Thank you, brother. My proposition is simple.” Might as well just say it straight, he thought. “I want to create a police force in Konoha, and I think it should be headed by the Uchiha.”

There was answering silence, and he could almost hear them thinking through the ramifications of his words. Jinzo’s eyes were laser-focused on him—measuring, calculating.

Sasuke Sarutobi was the first to speak. “Could you explain more about what this police force would do?”

“Of course. They would enforce the law, monitor the streets, and make arrests as needed. We would have to establish a headquarters for them, of course, and likely build a prison in the future as well.”

“Would they have jurisdiction over both civilians and shinobi?” Shibuya Nara asked. The current head of the Nara clan, he bore a striking resemblance to Shikamaru. Clan genetics really were something else.

“Yes, over everyone,” he replied.

“We have no need of the Uchiha’s meddling or anyone else’s,” Hiroshi said coolly. “The Hyuga are fully capable of handling their own affairs.”

His son, Ichiro Hyuga, lowered his eyes, evidently ashamed of his father’s words. He was sitting in on today’s meeting to learn the ropes of what it meant to be a clan head.

“You are part of Konoha now, Hyuga-san,” Naruto said. “No one is above the law here, regardless of which clan you’re from.”

Hiroshi’s lips tightened into a tight line, but he said nothing more.

“I can see the benefits of establishing a police force, Hokage-sama,” Inoue Yamanaka said slowly. “But why elect the Uchiha for this task?”

Here it was. The sticking point of the entire issue. In the end, it would all come down to this.

“I want to make something very clear,” he began. “Members of any clan will be welcome to join the police force—not just the Uchiha. But a task of this undertaking will need clear leadership—and I believe the Uchiha are right for the job.

“They’re one of the largest clans, so they’re already used to keeping a large group of people in order. I don’t think it will be too difficult for them to take on responsibility for the order and security of Konoha. Their size also means they will be able to manage the police force as it expands to meet Konoha’s growing security demands. But above all, the Uchiha are one of Konoha’s founding clans. They were here the day it was created, and there is no clan who loves this village or wants it to succeed more. I am confident that Konoha will be safe in their hands.”

Jinzo steepled his hands in front of him. The greedy gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. “I will speak on behalf of every Uchiha when I say we are honored by your words, Hokage-sama. We would be happy to take on this duty if the council is in agreement—but if I may make a suggestion?”

Naruto nodded for him to continue, even though he had already had a fairly good idea of what the man was going to say. He was counting on it, actually.

“The primary responsibility for the police force would naturally fall on Madara-sama’s shoulders since he is the head of the Uchiha,” Jinzo said. “However, since he is already occupied with clan affairs and serving as your aide, perhaps it would be better for another member of the Uchiha to take on this role.”

“I have already thought of that,” Naruto said. “And I agree that it would be best for one of your elders to handle the task.”

Jinzo leaned in for the kill. “In that case, Hokage-sama, I would be happy to—”

Not so fast, old man. Naruto cut him off before he could continue. “I would like to nominate Masao-san for the task.”

Jinzo’s expression flickered, but he quickly regained control. He cleared his throat delicately. “Masao-kun is very capable, Hokage-sama, but I feel that someone with more experience would be better suited for the position. If I may be so bold, perhaps this matter should be decided by the Uchiha, who undoubtedly know their own members best?”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Naruto said. “That’s why I asked Madara for his recommendation. He was the one who gave me Masao-san’s name, and as Hokage, I’m willing to trust whoever he thinks is best for the job.”

“I see.” Jinzo’s gaze darted to Sasuke, then back to him. Naruto could almost see him searching for a loophole, but he finally seemed to realize he had been backed into a corner. “Very well,” he said at last. “The elders’ council will accept Masao-san’s leadership in this matter.”

“If there aren’t any more questions, shall we vote?” Tobirama said. “All in favor of establishing a village police force with the aforementioned stipulations?”

Since Naruto had made the proposal, he wasn’t allowed a vote. Sasuke raised his hand,

though, as well as Tobirama. Jinzo begrudgingly joined them. Hiroshi Hyuga and Abe Shimura

showed no signs of moving, which was expected. Sasuke Sarutobi hesitated, but he eventually lifted his hand as well. That was four, but they needed five for majority.

As he had predicted, it would all come down to the Ina-Shika-Cho trio. The bond between their clans was strong even in this era, and they voted together more often than not.

Naruto watched anxiously as the three men exchanged glances, communicating through a silent language understood only by themselves. Inoue’s expression was stern, Shibuya’s thoughtful, and Chojuro’s uncertain. But despite their differences, he knew that it would be all or none. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Inoue raised his hand, followed by Shibuya and Chojuro.

Naruto resisted the urge to shout and fist pump the air. They had done it. Masao was one of the few members of the Uchiha who Sasuke regarded with trust. Wily old Jinzo would undoubtedly try to wrest control from the younger man’s grip, but he would have Sasuke’s backing, and—young, though he was—Masao was no pushover. With this, the path of the Uchiha would hopefully be altered enough to prevent their destruction.

“It’s decided,” Tobirama said, his voice loud and clear. “The proposal is passed, and with that, today’s meeting is adjourned. Thank you all for coming. We will meet again next month.”

One by one, the clan heads rose and shuffled out of the room. Hiroshi inclined his head stiffly as he passed. “Thank you for permitting Ichiro to attend today, Hokage-sama. It is good for him to see the duties of the position he will someday occupy.”

Ichiro bowed formally. “Thank you, Hokage-sama.”

Naruto grinned at the boy. “No problem.”

His smile faded as he watched father and son leave the room. The rumblings of change were coming, and this was just the beginning of the earthquake he was planning to unleash upon the world.

Chapter Text

Naruto chewed on his lower lip in concentration. “It’s sort of like...yeah, like that.” He lifted his pen as he completed the final flourish.

Mito squinted and tilted her head sideways. “Are you sure you were an Uzumaki in your past life?”

“Of course, I am, dattebayo! I wouldn’t make something like that up!”

“Well, your penmanship sucks,” she said flatly.

“Hey, it’s not my fault! My mother died when I was baby, so I didn’t exactly grow up taking Uzumaki calligraphy classes.”

"I don’t think even the finest Uzumaki seal masters could help save this catastrophe,” she said, looking at the paper and shaking her head.

From behind him, he heard Sasuke snicker. He sent his friend a very pointed glare. “You’re not helping.”

He shrugged carelessly. “It’s not my fault she’s got a good sense of humor.”

Mito’s eyes darted to Sasuke. They locked gazes, and her cheeks tinged faintly pink.

“Guys, can we focus here?” Naruto said in annoyance. “Mito, do you recognize it or not?”

She turned back to him, her expression growing troubled. “Yes, as I suspected, it’s one of our own. My ancestors must have shared it with the Hyuga in return for something—land, money, a reprieve from attack...it could have been anything, really. The Uzumaki are a smaller clan, so we’ve always used whatever we could to ensure our survival. But this...”

Her eyes traced the design he had drawn. “This seal is known as ‘death’s kiss.’ It’s an extremely powerful seal—one that is rarely used. Something like this should have never been put on a living being.”

“No, it shouldn’t have,” Naruto agreed grimly. “Can you undo it?”

“I can, but it will take time. And based on what you’ve told me, I doubt the Hyuga clan head will just let me waltz into their compound and host a seal-removal party.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.” He channeled a small amount of fire chakra, watching as his drawing of the caged bird seal burned away to nothing. “If everything goes according to plan, old Hiroshi will be asking—no, begging—for that party of yours.”

A few days later, Ichiro Hyuga showed up at the door to his office. He bowed deeply, formal as always. “Good morning, Hokage-sama.”

It had been surprisingly easy to get the boy alone. One offhand comment about how he saw potential in the kid and wanted to teach him some of what he knew, and Hiroshi was practically shoving his son into his arms.

“I am pleased that you see what a father’s eyes have always seen, Hokage-sama. Ichiro is strong, disciplined, and has a quick mind. If you are willing, I believe it would be highly beneficial to have him spend a day learning from you.”

Naruto could practically see the wheels turning in the man’s mind. It was obvious that he already had his sight set on the Hokage’s hat for his son. He likely reasoned that with a Hyuga as Hokage, their clan would rise to the very top—unparalleled in power and prestige. Naruto sighed inwardly. The Hyuga were no Uchiha, but they came with their own set of challenges, that was for sure.

He smiled warmly at the boy. “Welcome, Ichiro-kun.”

His gaze shifted to the two elder Hyuga who flanked him. “Thank you for bringing him. Will you be staying, or...?”

“We will be remaining here,” one of them—a man with gray-streaked hair and a hard face—said stiffly.

“I see,” Naruto nodded, careful to hide his annoyance. It had been too much to hope that the boy would be left completely alone. “That’s fine, but could I ask you to stay out in the hallway? I’m afraid that my office is a bit crowded at the moment.”

He needed an excuse to keep them out, and this one wasn’t even a lie. He had somehow managed to fall behind on his paperwork yet again. The result was that boxes of documents now filled up most of the floor space in his office. He could barely walk around without tripping over something.

“That will be acceptable,” the gray-haired man said after a moment. Nodding to his companion, they moved to stand on opposite sides of the door. Standing stiffly with hard, expressionless faces, they reminded Naruto of stone statues.

Turning back to Ichiro, he beckoned him inside. “Come on in.”

“Thank you, Hokage-sama,” the boy said as he stepped over the threshold. “I appreciate the opportunity to shadow you for the day. I look forward to learning from you.”

“Of course. I’m glad to have you here.” Shadowing the Fire Shadow—hm, there had to be a good joke in there somewhere. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the sight of the two Hyuga sentries. “I have an exciting day planned, so I hope you’re ready.”

If that wasn’t the understatement of the century, he didn’t know what was.

“I am ready to learn whatever I can, Hokage-sama,” Ichiro replied. “Just tell me what you would like me to do.”

Naruto plopped down at his desk, then gestured for Ichiro to sit in the extra chair he had pulled up for today’s purpose. “Our first matter of business is paperwork,” he said matter-of-factly. “Let me ask you—how good are you at forging signatures?”

The boy looked startled. “I beg your pardon, Hokage-sama?”

Naruto grinned to himself. He would bide his time, putting on a show to ease the guard’s suspicions. His moment would come later, but for now, he might as well put the boy to work. As he handed him a small mountain of papers, he couldn’t help thinking that Hiroshi’s grand plan might end up backfiring. After today, he wouldn’t blame the boy if he ran at the sight of the Hokage’s hat.

It soon became clear that Ichiro was quite skilled at creating false signatures—and fast, too. By noon, they had cut the amount of paperwork neatly in half.

“Well done,” he told him, standing up to stretch his cramped muscles. “Let’s take a lunch break and come back to this after.”

“Hai, Hokage-sama. Yato-san has my bento in the hall. I’ll go fetch it.”

“Leave it,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I want to bring you somewhere—my treat.”

They weaved through the crowded midday streets. Stone Statue #1 and Stone Statue #2 stalked closely behind them.

“Here we are,” he announced at last.

“Yakiniku...Q?” Ichiro read aloud questioningly.

“Yep. It’s the best barbeque spot in Konoha.” Well, it was currently the only barbeque spot, but that hardly mattered. It was still the best.

The restaurant had opened a few weeks ago, and although it was nice to see something else familiar, Naruto couldn’t help wishing it had been a certain ramen shop instead. He wondered if there was any way, while he was changing things, that he could accelerate Ichiraku’s opening. He would have to think on it.

They entered the restaurant and slid into a green upholstered booth. Ichiro’s head seemed to be on a swivel as he took everything in.

“Have you been here yet?” Naruto asked.

Ichiro shook his head. “I have never been in an establishment such as this.”

“You mean you’ve never eaten out?” he asked incredulously.

Another shake of the boy’s head.

“Well, you’re in for a treat. Order whatever you like.” He looked over his shoulder at the two men who were hovering awkwardly behind their table.

“What about you two? Do you want anything?”

“We are fine, Hokage-sama. Thank you for your consideration.”

“Ok,” he shrugged, looking over the menu. “Suit yourself.”

They placed their orders, and a few minutes later a waitress brought out a platter piled high with assorted meats. Ichiro looked enthralled as he showed him how to cook it on the tabletop grill, and Naruto was reminded that he was still only a child. A Hyuga child, true, but a child, nonetheless.

The meat sizzled and popped for what seemed like an eternity, but at last, the mouth-watering wait was over. They eagerly grabbed their chopsticks and dug in, alternating between blowing on the food to cool it down and stuffing it into their mouths.

“So? What do you think?” Naruto asked around a large bite of pork.

“It’s delicious, Hokage-sama.” Ichiro sounded enthusiastic—for a Hyuga, at least. “Thank you for the meal.”

Naruto grinned widely. “Don’t mention it. You helped me out with that paperwork, so consider it even.”

The waitress swept by their table. “Would you like any boxes for leftovers?” she asked.

Naruto started to decline, but Ichiro said quickly, “Yes, please.”

The boy flushed slightly when he looked at him. “For my sister,” he explained. “She’s never been to a place like this either, so I wanted her to try it.”

Ah. “That’s very thoughtful of you. She’s lucky to have you as a brother.”

Ichiro said nothing, but for a split second, he was certain he saw a flash of bitterness in the boy’s eyes. His intuition was right on this. It had to be.

They arrived back at his office with full stomachs and renewed energy.

“Ah, that sure hit the spot,” Naruto said, patting his middle contentedly.

“Indeed,” Ichiro agreed. “What would you like me to do next, Hokage-sama?”

Naruto glanced surreptitiously at the door. The time had come to make his bid—it was now or never.

“Come over here,” he said in a lowered voice. “I want you to look at this scroll with me.”

He unfurled the document and set it on the desk in front of the boy. Ichiro studied it for a moment with furrowed brows.

“Hokage-sama,” he said, starting to look up, “what—?”

“Keep your eyes on the scroll,” Naruto said, careful to keep his voice pitched low. “What’s on it doesn’t matter, but pretend to be interested anyway. I need you to listen now, and I need you to keep your facial expressions under control. They may not be able to hear through the door, but they can see through it. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” He could hear the confusion in the boy’s voice, but he was grateful that he didn’t ask any questions.

“Good. I want to talk to you about the caged bird seal.”

Ichiro sucked in a sharp breath, but to his credit, his gaze remained fixed on the paper. “No one outside of the Hyuga knows about that. How do you?”

“That doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I want to stop it, and I need your help.”

Ichiro said nothing for a while. “Why are you so certain I’ll help you?” he asked at last.

“It’s a gut feeling more than anything.”

He could sense the boy’s bewilderment, but his expression remained impassive. The kid was good, he’d give him that.

“You are meddling in things you don’t understand,” Ichiro said quietly. “Even if I wanted to help you, the seal is part of my clan’s livelihood. It’s just the way it is.”

“Is that what you really think? Or just what you’ve been told to believe?”

Ichiro flinched slightly. “Why approach me? What can I do?”

“You can change everything,” he answered without hesitation. “But only if you’re willing to risk everything.”

“And what makes you think I’d be willing to take such a risk?”

“Because if you don’t, your sister will one day be forced to wear the seal. She’ll be chained by it for her entire life. Not because it’s right or fair—but because it’s ‘just the way it is.’ So, I’ll ask you one more time. Will you help me?”

The ensuing silence seemed to stretch for eons. Naruto stubbornly pushed down his rising anxiety. This would work. It had to work.

Finally, Ichiro looked up. His pale eyes were blazing with determination. Naruto had only seen that look a handful of times on a Hyuga—and he knew what it meant.

It seemed as though his gamble had paid off.

Chapter Text

“Welcome, Hokage-sama, Mito-sama.” Hiroshi stepped aside, providing admittance into the main building of the Hyuga compound. “Thank you for coming.”

“Not at all—thank you for having us. I hope you don’t mind that I brought Mito along.”

“It’s not a problem,” Hiroshi replied. “She’s your betrothed, so I understand that you wish for her to have a presence at events such as this.”

Naruto smiled and nodded politely. Wanting Mito to have a ‘presence’ had nothing to do with why she was here, but Hiroshi would find that out for himself soon enough. 

“Please follow me,” the Hyuga head went on. “Everyone’s already gathered and waiting.”

As Hiroshi led them down a series of spotless hallways, Naruto recalled their conversation from a few days prior.

“Thank you for taking the time to return him personally, Hokage-sama. How did Ichiro do?”

“I’d say it was a great success. He’s eager to learn and, most importantly, he’s not afraid to take risks. Unless I’m very much mistaken, he’ll be a great leader someday.”

Hiroshi bowed deeply, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “We are honored by your words, Hokage-sama.”

The Hyuga’s gaze landed on the red scroll in Ichiro’s hand. “What do you have there, son?”

“It’s extra material that Hokage-sama gave me to study at home.”

“Like I said,” Naruto grinned, “he’s eager to learn. Hyuga-san, if you have a moment, there’s another matter I would like to discuss.”

Hiroshi inclined his head. “Of course.”

“There’s an important announcement that I would like your entire clan to hear. Do you think that could be arranged?”

“What is the nature of the announcement, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“It concerns the future of the Hyuga. I can’t give away too much right now, but I can assure you that I see great things ahead for your clan.”

Hiroshi’s head bobbed in gratification. “You are too kind, Hokage-sama. As it happens, we have our monthly clan meeting coming up in a few days. Would that be amenable?”

“That will be perfect,” Naruto said. “Thank you.”

“Here we are,” Hiroshi announced. He sild open a washi paneled door to reveal a large, airy room. Just as he had said, the place was already packed with Hyuga—men, women, and children.

Naruto fidgeted slightly as hundreds of white eyes turned and fastened onto him. The entire clan sat stiff and straight-backed on the tatami floors. They were so eerily still that Naruto found himself double-checking some of them to make sure they were actually breathing.

Hiroshi strode straight down the center of the room, past orderly rows of kneeling Hyuga. He took a seat at the front, gesturing for Naruto and Mito to follow his example

“Greetings, everyone,” the Hyuga head began, his voice loud and deep. “As you can see, we have two venerable guests attending our meeting today. Before we begin, the Hokage would like to make an announcement.”

Naruto searched the sea of white-eyed faces until he spotted Ichiro. He was in the first row, seated next to an elegantly beautiful woman who he assumed was Hiroshi’s wife. On his other side was a little girl who was clearly doing her best to sit still. Sayuri.

Ichiro met his gaze and nodded slightly. The scroll was gripped tightly in his hand.

They were still on—which meant it was go time.

Naruto cleared his throat. “Thank you once again, Hiroshi-san, for allowing me to attend this meeting.” He turned to address the crowded room. “As he said, I have an announcement that I would like you all to hear. I’m sure most of you are already aware of this, but the Hyuga’s importance to Konoha cannot be overstated. Your clan is a pillar for our village, and I anticipate that you will only become more integral as Konoha continues to grow. However, that’s exactly why it’s essential to make sure that there’s no cracks—no corruption—in your midst. If your clan were to crumble...well, you can see how the consequences would be disastrous for all of Konoha.

“That’s why I’m here today—to get rid of the corruption that’s rotting your clan from the inside out.”

Hiroshi’s previously smug expression had dissipated. It was clear that this was not what he had been expecting. “Hokage-sama, I’m afraid that I don’t know what you’re referring to—”

“The caged bird seal,” Naruto spat out. “That’s what I’m referring to.”

The Hyuga head blanched. The rows of seated clan members shifted uncomfortably. If he hadn’t had other, more pressing concerns, he might have applauded himself for rousing them from their creepy stasis.

“Yes, I know about it,” he continued, “so don’t bother denying it. It doesn’t matter how I know, but I do.”

Hiroshi took measured breaths, clearly trying to maintain his composure. “It may be difficult for an outsider such as yourself to understand, Hokage-sama, but the caged bird seal ensures our clan’s survival. It’s a necessary part of our livelihood.”

Naruto felt his anger reach a boiling point. “You know, I’m getting really tired of hearing that hogwash propaganda. The caged bird seal is not essential to your survival and it’s not a necessary part of your ‘livelihood’ either. It’s a barbaric practice that needs to be stopped—nothing more and nothing less.”

Hiroshi’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “With all due respect, Hokage-sama, you are out of line. You may be the head of this village, but this is very clearly a clan matter. Regardless of how you feel, I’m afraid that you can’t force us to do anything.”

They locked eyes, engaging in a battle of wills, before Naruto finally said, “You’re right. That’s why you’re going to make the decision of your own accord. Ichiro”—he looked to the boy—"I’ll let you take it from here.”

Ichiro nodded. “Father, I don’t want to do this, but you’ve left me with no choice.” He unrolled the scroll and planted his palm firmly in the center. When the puff of smoke settled, there was no mistaking the design etched on his forehead.

The elegant-looking woman shrieked and fell over in a faint. Ichiro stood, and gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd.

All remaining vestiges of color drained from Hiroshi’s face. “Ichiro, what...”

“It’s exactly what it looks like,” Naruto said.

The Hyuga head spun on him, eyes blazing with fury. “You!” he seethed. “This is your doing, isn’t it? You manipulated my son with your cunning lies and—”

“I made this choice on my own, father,” Ichiro cut in. “The Hokage didn’t manipulate me—I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“How could you do this, Ichiro?” Hiroshi’s voice shook with fury. “You were to be my heir—you were never meant to be branded with that—that hideous thing.”

More murmurs rose from the crowd. They had decidedly angry undertones, and Naruto knew that the man must be truly irate to say something so tactless in front of his entire clan.

“I’m a branch member now,” Ichiro said calmly. “Whether you like it or not, that’s what this means.” He jerked a thumb towards his forehead. “You have only two choices now, father. Either Sayuri becomes your heir, or you have the seals removed once and for all. The choice is up to you.”

Hiroshi’s gaze flickered from Ichiro to Sayuri, and Naruto could practically see him weighing his options. Sayuri would be a weak heir, which meant that his own family line would be in jeopardy. But if he removed the seals, he would—in his own mind, at least—be risking the welfare of his entire clan.

In other words, their whole plan hinged on Hiroshi’s insatiable greed for personal power.

The Hyuga head stared at his son, his expression dark with fury. “Ichiro...you would really destroy this clan—all because of your willfulness?”

Ichiro met his gaze evenly. “I’m trying to save this clan, father, not destroy it.”

At last, Hiroshi’s shoulders slumped in resignation. “Very well. I can only hope that we don’t all come to regret this day.” He raised his voice for the entire room to hear. “I hereby ban the use of the caged bird seal and order their immediate removal from anyone who currently bears it. Let this command be recorded in our annals without delay.”

“Go on.” He waved a weary hand in Mito’s direction. “Do what you must. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Mito grinned brightly. She leapt to her feet, facing the rows of stunned Hyuga. “Alright everyone”—she clapped her hands—"let’s get started, shall we?”

The sun was already setting when the job was done, and they finally departed the Hyuga compound. Mito hadn’t been exaggerating when she said removing the seals would take time.

“Hokage-sama, Mito-sama.”

They turned to find Ichiro, alone and slightly out of breath. He lurched into a deep bow. “I wanted to thank you both,” he said, “on behalf of my entire clan.”

Naruto ruffled his hair affectionately. The boy looked surprised by the gesture, but he didn’t pull away. “We’re the ones who should be thanking you. This isn’t the end of it, though. What we did here today is just the beginning.”

 “I know,” Ichiro said solemnly.

“It won’t be easy, but your clan will pull through. They have you, after all. I wasn’t lying when I told your father that you’ll be a great leader someday.”

Ichiro’s eyes shone in the moonlight. “Thank you, Hokage-sama. I will be pleased if I can become half the leader you are.”

As they turned to leave, Mito said, “At least someone’s grateful. Did you see the way Hiroshi-san was looking at us?” She shuddered. “I’ll be sleeping with one eye open for a while.”

“I don’t think you need to worry. He’s furious, but he’s not stupid.”

“If you say so.” She covered a gaping yawn with her hand.  “Boy, am I exhausted. Are you heading back home now?”

“I wish, but I’ve got some work to do first.” He cringed inwardly as he envisioned the monstrous pile of paperwork that awaited him back at his office.

She nodded sympathetically. “I guess I’ll see you later then.”

“Sounds good. And hey, Mito?”

She paused to look at him, her breath forming clouds of mist in the cold night air.

“I’m grateful too, you know. This couldn’t have happened without you, so thank you. Truly.”

Her face broke into a soft, radiant smile. “Don’t mention it.”

He arrived to find his office dark and empty. He glanced around, wondering where Toka was, until he remembered that it was her usual training day. She claimed that she couldn’t allow her skills to grow rusty in case she was needed on the field again. In case another war started, was what she really meant.

With a tired sigh, he sat down at his desk and got to work. He ploughed through paperwork for several hours before finally calling it a night. He was nearly dead on his feet by the time he arrived at the Senju compound, but he didn’t head directly for his chambers. There was something he wanted to do first.

He strolled down darkened halls, eventually stopping in front of a paneled door. “Toka?” he called softly.

There was a clatter and the sound of rushed movements before she said, “Come in.”

He slid open the door and stepped inside. “Is everything ok?”

Toka stood next to her futon in her nightclothes, her chestnut hair hanging loosely around her shoulders. Her arms were crossed defensively over her chest. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause it looks to me like you’ve been binging on sweets again.”

She followed his gaze, hissing as she spotted the edge of a candy wrapper peeking out from under her futon.

“There’s no need to hide it,” he said, stifling laughter. “Everyone has their share of skeletons in the closet.”

“Oh, shut up.” She shoved him in the arm, hard enough to make him stumble backward. “Why are you here anyway?”

“I went to the Hyuga compound today,” he said without preamble.

She looked at him sharply. “The Hyuga? Why?”

He explained everything then—about the seal, their plan, and the events of the meeting. When he finished, she shook her head in amazement. “I can’t believe you did something so reckless.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Weren’t you the one who said I wasn’t the type of person to think things through?”

“Yes, but you’ve also had clan politics ingrained in you from an early age. Your father made sure of that.”

“Do you disagree with what I did?”

“No, that’s not it. I guess I’m just surprised. I thought I knew everything about you, but...” She peered at him closely, as if trying to see under his skin.

He shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m just trying to do what’s right, that’s all.” He stood. “Well, that’s all I wanted to say. I’m going to head to bed—goodnight.”

He didn’t allow himself to relax until he was back in the hallway, the door closed securely behind him. For a moment there, he had almost thought...

He shook himself. All she saw was Hashirama, he told himself firmly. There was no way she could know the truth. Still, Toka was no fool, and she had known Hashirama better than just about anyone. He would have to be more careful around her in the future.

Only once he was in the privacy of his room did the day’s events finally sink in. He mechanically washed up and changed into his nightrobes, even while his mind raced. He had actually done it. As of today, the caged bird seal was no more.

How’s that, Neji? his heart sang in triumph. I kept my promise—and technically, I haven’t even made it yet. Not bad, huh, dattebayo?

The only thing that would have made the victory sweeter is if Neji had been there to see it. But he would someday, he reminded himself. He would see it someday—and that was enough.

Chapter Text

When you were a time traveler, old and new had a funny way of mixing together. Here he was, standing in front of the same Academy he had attended when he was a kid, only now the building had an air of freshness about it that it hadn’t had in his day. He remembered walking through those front doors hundreds of times, yet he had technically never walked through these doors. Old and new, mixing together. It was a strange feeling, to say the least.

Shaking himself out of his introspective state, he turned to address the crowd that had gathered. “Good morning everyone, and welcome to Konohagakure Academy’s grand opening.”

There was scattered applause, and he used the reprieve to scan the prospective students and their families. There were a handful of civilian children, and he noticed Hanami Mitarashi standing at the front with her mother. The little girl was bouncing on her toes, her eyes bright and eager. Looking further, he saw that there was a definite scarcity of clan children, but that was hardly surprising. The idea of the Academy hadn’t exactly been well-received by the Council.

Inoue-san frowned slightly, clearing his throat. “So, your proposal is to start a....shinobi school, Hokage-sama?”

“That’s right. An Academy.”

Abe Shimura shook his head. “I simply don’t see the need for such an establishment. Our clans have always been more than capable of training our own.”

A few of the others around the oval table nodded in agreement.

“I’m aware of that,” Naruto said, “but our situation is different now. We are no longer just a collection of clans; we are all part of a village—part of Konoha. We need to end this clan-centric mentality and start focusing on what’s best for the village.”

“Pardon me, Hokage-sama, but isn’t what’s best for Konoha to raise up as many skilled kunoichi and shinobi as possible?” This came from Hiroshi. “Our clans know our children, so surely you can agree that they are better suited for this task than some common strangers.”

Naruto resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I can assure you, Hiroshi-san, that only highly qualified instructors will be given positions at the Academy.”

Honestly, the man acted as if he was going to drag some random passerby off the street and force them to teach the kids.

“Your children will be in good hands,” he continued, “and there is no reason why your clans cannot provide supplemental training as you see fit.”

“It’s not just the instructors that I have concerns about,” Jinzo Uchiha said in his thin, reedy voice. “In our clans, we have tight control over who our children come into contact with. I wouldn’t want our impressionable youth to be subjected to any...undesirable influences.”

Naruto forced himself to keep his face neutral, even though he wanted to lunge across the table and throttle the other man. He saw this for what it was—a barely concealed jibe at civilian kids.

“The Academy’s doors will be open to any child with the ability to use chakra,” he replied firmly. “There is no reason to exclude anyone simply because they are not from a clan bloodline. As Hiroshi-san so aptly pointed out, our goal should be to strengthen Konoha by training as many able shinobi and kunoichi as possible.”

After hours of negotiating, they had finally reached a tenuous agreement. The Academy would be founded, and civilian children would be permitted to attend, but enrollment would be entirely voluntary.

But now, looking at the meager number of clan children in attendance, he wondered if he should have conceded this last point so easily. A fair number of Senju had sent their children, but that was to be expected. He also recognized several Sarutobi kids, including mini jii-chan, and a cluster from the Ina-Shika-Cho contingent. However, he didn’t see a single Uchiha, and very few Shimura and Hyuga.

Surprisingly enough, young Sayuri was part of this number. The little girl stood a few feet away from Hanami, two stiff-backed Hyuga guards at her side. Naruto wondered if Ichiro had something to do with this, or if Hiroshi just didn’t care if his daughter received an education from a bunch of ‘common strangers.’

Still, Sasuke had assured him that it would be fine. Apparently, Academy attendance had never been required, but it had eventually become so commonplace that clan members were considered strange if they didn’t enroll their children. He could only hope that the same would hold true for this timeline.

He cleared his throat. “I will now let the Academy’s Headmaster say a few words. Please help me welcome my brother, Tobirama Senju.”

Convincing the other man to take the position hadn’t been as difficult as passing the Academy with the Council, but it was a close thing.

“Are you out of your mind?”

“I prefer eccentric.”

Tobirama shook his head. “I can’t do it. Not while I’m already managing clan affairs, assisting you, and taking care of all of my other duties.”

“You and I both know that’s not true. Toka is perfectly capable of being my aide on her own, and the elders have always taken on the lion’s share of the clan’s work.”

“I still can’t do it,” Tobirama protested, somewhat wildly. “I don’t even like children.”

“Exactly.” At the look on his brother’s face, he sighed. “At least give it a chance, alright? I know you don’t believe it, but this is an important job and there’s no one I trust more to do it. And who knows?” He flashed a grin. “You might even find yourself enjoying it.”

Tobirama rolled his eyes, muttering something about ‘abuse of power,’ but Naruto knew that he had won. Not that that had ever been in doubt.

“Thank you all for coming,” Tobirama addressed the crowd. He looked perfectly at ease, and Naruto had to hide a smile. No one would have guessed that he had been dragged into this role kicking and scratching like a feral cat.

“I am truly honored to be a part of this momentous occasion, along with all of you who are standing here today. Never before has there been a public academy that offers professional shinobi training, regardless of background or heritage. As the Academy’s first headmaster, I would like to thank every family here for entrusting your children to us. I can assure you that they will be in good hands. And to all of the incoming students, I would encourage you to be open-minded, humble, and ready to learn as you embark on this new adventure.”

He then launched into a description of what life at the Academy would be like. It was similar to that of Naruto’s era, with a few key exceptions. First, there was a greater emphasis on general studies—math, history, science, etc. Most of these classes were actually taught by civilians to further facilitate village relations. Shinobi classes included the usuals—taijutsu, weapons training, and chakra manipulation. However, he had also added a mandatory medicine class.

Unfortunately, finding an instructor had proved to be a major headache. Iryo-nin were

limited, and those with any level of skill were almost constantly employed in the field. Yamaguchi-san—the shinobi that currently filled the position—could heal little more than a paper cut, but he was the best they could find for now. Nevertheless, the class would also teach basic field medicine—such as how to stop bleeding, bandage wounds, and prevent infection.

Tsunade’s dream of one iryo-nin per team was still a long way off, but he was determined to make it happen. He didn’t know if he would meet his old mentor in this life, but this was something he wanted to do for her and for everyone else in this future.

As Tobirama’s opening speech droned on—he really could be impressively long-winded at times—his gaze wandered to a familiar oak tree in the Academy’s yard. He had spent many lonely days swinging from that tree, drawing swirls in the dust with the toe of his shoe and wishing he had a family like all the other kids.

He shook himself. This was his Academy, but it wasn’t. Old and new were mixing together—for the better. For this Academy would be better if he had anything to say about it.

And as if in anticipation of that promise, where the tree had once held only one swing, there were now two, hanging side by side.