Chapter Text
The boy was just there floating in a vial of liquid. Nearly lifeless.
He had not known much of Orochimaru other than that he was once a good friend to his sensei, Jiraiya. Why he was conducting this experiment with the First Hokage's cells onto children perturbed and disgusted him. So many innocent lives had been taken. He often prided himself on being calm in the face of adversity, but this was too much for him to handle and bear.
Kushina came to close to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't even noticed just how much he had clenched his fist that he had begun to draw a small amount of blood from it.
"I want to kill him Kushina. All those children. I will kill Orochimaru for what he's done!"
He feels her arms stretch out to embrace him. Her hands gently mussing his messy blonde hair. "He will pay for what he's done, Minato. One way or another, Orochimaru will pay!"
He is able to hear and feel the anger in her trembling voice. Before they can move out, he feels a gentle tug on his shoulder. "Minato, look!"
As she points to the child in the vial, they both take notice that the child is moving. A boy, who is alive, but bearing a look of pain and fear. They both press a hand on to the glass and the boy responds in kind, almost understanding them. He looked no older than three or four years old at the very least. His eyes are open and wary, but so large that it pains him to look at him. What horrors had he seen and experienced already?
They all stared at one another as if they felt a strange kinship between them all. it would make sense for Kushina, as the Uzumaki and Senju lines were interconnected. Fatherhood had been on his own mind for quite some time. He isn't sure what to think if this was his own child, being left abandoned and alone. He and Kushina then stare at one another, practically knowing what they want to say and do.
Kids should be running about and playing. Not being subjected to whatever form of torture Orochimaru had come up with. Being poked and prodded at was something no one would look forward to, let alone a child. As they look at the boy, they see that he is far too skinny and far too small. They can't tell how old he is but he looked to be a toddler at least. He looks so much sadder and forlorn then most grown ninja would.
"Dead," the boy utters. They both look at him in surprise. His voice was somewhat scratchy. "Friends. Dead friends."
Hearing this they had realized that he must have seen all of the children die from the experimentation. But the thought that crosses their mind is him. Why him? Why did this boy survive?
But they knew that they had a responsibility to him. They found him, they could not just abandon the boy in his time of need. He deserved a better life. They will make this little boy’s life better.
It was rather unorthodox but the boy would need a family for the time being, and they had thought of having a child one day. So ...
"Tell me little one, do you have a name?"