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Summary:

When Naruto's father died ten years ago, he became the Nine-Tailed Shrine God—but he's too young and inexperienced to manifest himself physically. Almost nobody can see him, hear him, or even touch him. But when a boy called Sasuke starts visiting with his family, Naruto is absolutely sure that this human looked right at him.

[Youkai AU]

Notes:

There's may be some very minor differences between fully IRL accurate Japanese folklore/shrine practice and how it may be adapted for Konoha/shinobi world stuff.

I have the whole story planned out already, but updates may not be consistent because #Life.
Just to save y'all the trouble, this is a wholesome childhood SasuNaru because they're kids. It's gonna more like Ghibli where it's about bonding rather than overt romance. No kisses or nothing.

Chapter Text

Spirits should be used to being alone, right? That's what Naruto figured. It always made sense. They lived long lives (or afterlives?) and were few in number. But maybe he assumed wrong. Maybe it wasn't true. After all, nobody really liked being alone when it came down to it.

When his dad was around, life wasn't so bad. Honestly, Kurama was a real pain sometimes. He was gruff and standoffish, never one for soft words besides those few gentle nights when he'd talk Naruto to sleep. Then the next day he'd pretend it never happened. But Naruto loved him, and loved that his dad loved him, even if it was in his own demon-y, god-like way.

His dad shooed him out into the forest most days. He'd tell Naruto to buzz off and go romp in the dirt with bugs and animals, and not to come back until the sky got sleepy and the sun slipped behind the purple eyelid of night. So Naruto would run on all fours, shrink down into a little furry shape, chase dragonflies, and throw himself on the ground to sleep.

His dad would settle into the shrine space, smaller than his true form, and pull him in with one of his long, orange tails. It was one of the few times he'd ever really be gentle with Naruto. As Naruto struggled to keep his eyes open, determined to stay up later even though he had a bedtime, Kurama would tell stories of the past, of their history. There was always a certain way he'd phrase it…

Well, there was always a certain way he would phrase it…

Long, long ago, when the eldest of spirits walked the mountain ranges every dawn, a nine-tailed fox lived deep in the forests. Kurama was a fox of great power and repute ("and still am, mind you, brat!" he would always remind Naruto), known almost purely through myth and legend, despite the destruction he wrought when disturbed. No spirit, monster, or human could encroach on his territory without Kurama laying waste wherever their feet touched the earth. Kurama took careful care of his territory, his forest, his shrine, and he was left alone to his peace. And if the humans knew their place, that's how it would have stayed.

But humans were nothing but beings of hubris and greed. A shinobi named Madara stepped forth from the Uchiha clan, and cut his way through Kurama's forest as if it were his own. The blood-red wheels of his Sharingan burned holes in Kurama's thoughts, chained his memories until they barely scratched the inside of his skull, and left nothing but rage bubbling in every vein like a sickness. With the Uchiha's crime against the natural order of the world, Kurama became his beast, a deadly weapon of war panting at the whim of a pathetic, disgusting human.

Kurama had nothing but the basest of instincts and the will of Madara driving him. He tore through the smatterings of villages and forests like wet paper. His fangs, each bigger than the little huts humans called home, ripped through anything that moved. Women, children, shinobi—it didn't matter.

Only one man could stand in his and Madara's way. Hashirama of the Senju clan was thought of as a hero. He wrapped Kurama with his Mokuton ability, caging him with the very forest he called his home, and took Madara's life for the peace of the humans he cared for. But Kurama saw no difference between his captors. These petty mortals settled their squabbles with a god's strength, and chained him to their will. Imprisonment by any other name would sound as sweet.

In the deep grooves that Kurama was forced to carve into his own forest was the birth of the first Hidden Village. Hashirama called it Konoha, the Village Hidden in the Leaves. He became their first Hokage, eager to lead them in peace as he led them to victory. And while the humans cheered, Hashirama's wife, Uzumaki Mito, gave her blood to bind Kurama to the shrine so that they might forever take his freedom for their own.

To balance this divine seal, Hashirama and Mito gave him worshippers. The villagers, despite how they reviled him, despite how they feared him, dutifully gave their offerings. They gave their prayers, fed his spiritual power, and maintained the shrine that became his prison. It became Kurama's duty to protect his slavers from enemies and grant the rare blessing. He only hoped that one day he could burn their human village to the ground, and swallow the Hokage and his shrine maiden wife whole.

More Hidden Villages cropped up, hunting down Kurama's siblings to establish their own shrine gods. His brothers and sisters roamed free since before humans had history, but just like Kurama, fell one by one to capture. The world shied away from the great tailed beasts. Humans feared their rage and sought to possess it at the same time. Youkai and spirits stayed far from their former forest, worried that the humans would seek to bind them next. All Kurama had left to himself were memories.

Years passed. Slow or quick, he wasn't sure. Generations came and went. Clothes changed for more confusing styles, speech became more casual, and their prayers turned from desperate acts to maintain the seal into tradition they barely understood. Kurama watched bitterly as Konoha grew, the shrine stayed untouched by time, and the humans' hearts grew farther and farther from the bloodshed that built their peace.

And each time he heard the same story again, Naruto would lean forward until he nearly fell face first into Kurama's fur, and would yell at the old fox to tell him more if he "felt like not being a stingy bastard for once." His dad would close his eyes and huff, lightly smack the little fox down with a paw, and tell him to "shut up and go the fuck to sleep." And that was his way of saying the next part of the story was yet to come. Naruto would groan each time, and would whine about how bored he was getting waiting for the next part.

The whining stopped when the next part did happen, and it became Naruto's story to tell to no one.

Despite his dad's subtle (and not so subtle) warnings, it never occurred to Naruto that history was destined to repeat. When Naruto was only a whelp of just over twenty years, he saw firsthand the type of beast Kurama became when all sense left him. Something churned and forced the gears of Kurama's mind to twist in different directions. His red eyes sprouted three tomoe each, spinning slowly like wheels. His black lips pulled into a snarl, and saliva slipped out from behind his teeth until it pooled as foam on the ground, boiling the grass that tried to drink it.

Two humans—the fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato, and his wife, the fox shrine maiden and Mito's successor, Uzumaki Kushina—faced off against a mysterious Uchiha man. The night was an exact mirror of the tale Naruto heard from his dad's lips time and again. The couple saved their village at the cost of their own lives.

Even through his tears, his wails, and sobs, Naruto couldn't bring himself to hate. And that was almost worse than losing his father. How could he hold any sort of love for the humans that gilded Kurama's prison?

Honestly, Naruto liked Minato and Kushina. They were protecting their village the best they knew how. They visited and worshiped like any other villager, and were powerful enough to see Naruto's form while he was still too young to manifest himself beyond a tiny fox kit. Minato, though severely cautious and apprehensive, never lacked respect for the shrine spirits. And while he spoke with Kurama, Kushina would push her wicker picnic basket into Naruto's lap and tell him to pick a treat.

Inside would be wrapped candies, foreign fruits, strange paper boxes with banana-flavored milk inside, and "melon bread" from something she called "a bakery." And she promised that next time, she'd take him (with Kurama's permission, which he'd never give anyways) to her favorite little street bar in the entire village to try something called "rah-men."

Those hopeful plans died with her.

The Hokage passed alongside Kurama, becoming a noble sacrifice for the safety of his people. He would be revered, while Naruto's father would be called feral, unstable, and destined for evil deeds. Kushina, in her last moments, performed her last duty as shrine maiden and used her Uzumaki blood to bind Naruto to the shrine, just as Mito bound Kurama.

"Naruto, come here…" Her voice was guttural, rough and torn from the blood that spilled from the corners of her mouth, her breath heavy and wet from the hole Kurama's claw had torn through her middle. "You might not understand why yet, but it's better this way. Let the village strengthen you, let their prayers invigorate you."

Naruto knelt by her side, trying to stem the wound with magic he wasn't powerful enough to use yet. She dipped a thumb into the red and reached into the fold of his kimono to swipe the sour, coppery tang of blood across his stomach, his wrists, and finally his forehead.

"I'm sorry, Naruto. We couldn't go out to eat like I promised." Her eyes glazed over, her voice trailed off, and her body relaxed into a crumpled position comfortable only for the dead.

But Naruto didn't cry. He couldn't. He shouldn't. His tears were for his father only.

All humans died. They died peaceful deaths and gruesome deaths, and even though their lives grew longer with every generation, they were still so pitifully short. Kushina was a little bit younger than him, and she was a grown-up who was trying for a baby, while Naruto would be barely more than a grade schooler if he were human.

He didn't cry for them. He didn't. But he did get used to feeling lonely.

Now, there was no dad. There was no Minato, no Kushina, and the few powerful human shinobi that could see him were old and crotchety. Their memories of Kurama's second attack on the village, combined with their life-long concerns about power and security, kept them from coming to the shrine any more than necessary. They certainly didn't talk to Naruto much outside of their demands and prayers.

Naruto became the immortal nine-tailed fox god of the Konoha shrine, and so he was completely and utterly alone. He wasn't sure if the years that passed felt long or short—maybe even both at the same time. Children grew up in what seemed to be no time at all, and yet every day stretched on for eternity, with Naruto merely waiting for the sun to set, hoping to hear something interesting in the villagers' prayers the next day instead of the usual "please let my crops grow" or "help me find a husband."

And this day, just as Naruto did each day since the day after his father died, he awoke at dawn and sat seiza (or as close as he could get without cramping) behind the shoji screen separating the sanctuary from the prayer hall. It was really more of a prayer platform, considering how open it was.

The familiar clatter of a coin falling into the offering box became a comfort, and the rope being pulled and swung to rattle the deep bells in the rafters became a constant. Naruto readied his ears to listen to this next human's wish, regardless of whether he would, or even could, grant it.

Clap clap .

His ears perked when, unexpectedly, a child's voice rang out instead of keeping politely quiet.

"Kami-sama," a haughty but young voice demanded, "please get Kiba to shut up during class. He's so annoying and stupid. And help me be the best at kunai and shuriken throwing—better than just being top of my class—so that Itachi will teach me how to do a katon fireball already!"

Naruto inched forward to the screen and pulled the doors slightly open to peek outside, his heart doing this weird fluttery thing. On the other side of the gate and the altar stood a young boy who looked like he'd be the same age as Naruto if he wasn't a kami. His hair was black, sticking out in the back like he refused to let his mother brush it, and his brows were furrowed deep in concentration.

And his eyes looked directly into Naruto's own. Naruto's breath caught in his throat, and he shrank back instinctively, panic shooting through him. The boy immediately clenched them shut and turned his face downward. He bowed quickly, nowhere near deep enough to properly end the prayer, and spun on his foot to run away.

"Sasuke! You should bow properly at a shrine. Don't be so impatient," chided a woman's voice.

"I bowed! I did!" he complained, still taking his mother's hand in his own as they walked back down the stone path to the village. Naruto ventured out as they got farther, curious and maybe a little desperate, not willing to stop watching or look away until they were too far to see.

Was he…? Could he…?

Sasuke turned his face behind him for just a second, jumping when their eyes met again before immediately turning away. Naruto's sharp teeth broke out across his jaw in a grin, twitching as if it were a rusted hinge.

If a human could see him… A young one that wasn't jaded by Kurama's violence, one that was seeing the world for the first time…

Maybe Naruto could finally make his first friend.

Chapter 2

Summary:

Sasuke gives the shrine spirit a chance.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The boy—Sasuke, his name was—came back to the shrine several times over the coming weeks. But it was pretty clear that it wasn't always his idea. Sometimes he'd stop at the second to last step, wringing the edge of his t-shirt with one hand until his elder brother finished his prayer. When his brother insisted, Sasuke would clench his eyes and go through the motions as quickly as he could.

Naruto tried to get his attention. Waving, saying hello, even calling out his name once he confirmed a few times that it actually was Sasuke. But Sasuke would pointedly ignore him, his brows screwing up tight as he whipped his head in the other direction. Naruto didn’t even bother holding in his groan when it finally wore down his nerves. Only Sasuke would hear it anyway.

It wasn't until a different family member brought him to the shrine that Naruto was able to get up in his face. Naruto knew this was Sasuke's father, Fugaku, considering the man's stern demeanor and the deep lines carved under his eyes and in the corners of his nose. Naruto recognized him from when he was young, having watched him grow up around the same time as Kushina. He remembered him being dutiful, but not very smiley at all.

Naruto watched them come up through the torii gates to the small, but well-kept altar. Sasuke may have walked alongside his father with a stoic face, but his little hand clenched on the seams of Fugaku’s gray pants and haori told Naruto something different. Usually he was more flustered than anything—annoyed and frustrated that his family couldn't see what he could see.

But this time, Sasuke's attention was entirely on his father. The man stood tall at the chozuya , a stall with an awning over the hand purifying basin. It was quaint, but the fresh mountain water sparkled in a way only near-untouched nature could.

"Sasuke, a proper shrine prayer can take some time. Your mother tells me you've been rushing through the rites during your visits," said his father. He purified his hands at the chozubachi , carefully ladling cold water over his knuckles and wrists. "Improving your katon and shurikenjutsu cannot come at the cost of properly observing your duties as a member of the head family. You know this."

"Yes, father," said Sasuke. He jumped when the icy water was dumped over his hands. Sasuke certainly couldn't hide his emotions as well as Itachi did during his visits.

"And why is it that we perform this duty faithfully?" Fugaku asked.

"' If the head does not bow, the head cannot rise, '" recited Sasuke.

"That's right," agreed his father. "Watch closely, I want to make sure you know how to give your offerings and prayers correctly." He gently rang the bell, tossed a single ryo coin into the offering box, and bowed deeply twice without a rush.

Clap clap .

Fugaku was silent as he offered his prayer, a deep but quiet rumble that Naruto felt slink through his body as if he could hear it with his very skin.

' Kyuubi-sama, please give my son Itachi the strength he needs to honor our clan. '

What a wish. Couldn't humans be a little more specific? Itachi seemed like the kind of shinobi who had strength in spades, no divine intervention needed. Vague though it may be, it was still a nicer wish to listen to than ‘ please please pleeeeeaaaase help me get an A on my exam! I forgot to study! ’ or ‘ Please make it so I’m promoted at work instead because I deserve it more blah blah blah.

Fugaku bowed once more before stepping aside. Sasuke stepped close to worship, allowing his father to lift him up to the bell rope to swing it. Sasuke accepted a coin from his father, a small, bronze piece with a bit of patina, and followed his example. Slower and calmer than he had at previous visits, yes, but Naruto could still see his fingers and elbows twitch with discomfort. Was seeing a spirit really all that bad?

Naruto pulled on the corner of his furred ear, feeling the sharp sting of his claw scratch the delicate flesh. Well, maybe he did look a little weird to humans.

The young god quietly slipped out of the sanctuary, sidling up to Sasuke as close as he dared. His eyes were tightly closed, screwed up in concentration, only barely hidden by his hands in prayer. And he was taller than Naruto. He was maybe... Nine? Ten, max? Ugh. Humans grow so fast.

Sasuke’s unruly hair was mussed, as if his mother did her best to tame it before letting him out the door, but the heat and humidity stuck his locks together as cowlicks. Pale, more like his mom than his dad, but the high points of his cheeks were pink with a wet sheen, the start of a mild sunburn. Maybe after a few more days outside he'd look more like his father, who had a healthy tan from the summer sun.

Sasuke was quiet as he offered a prayer, which surprised Naruto because except for that first visit, Sasuke didn't actually send any prayers at all. The words of a human’s mind and soul made his skin tingle, like the touch of static electricity or a spider’s feet.

' Ugh, am I gonna have to do this every week? '

Naruto snickered, smacking a hand over his mouth when Sasuke's eyes snapped open and he sucked in a sharp breath, finally seeing how close the spirit had come. Suddenly, the ants crawling across the stone bricks making up the nearby path seemed much more interesting than Naruto.

"Sasuke, are you done with your prayer?" drawled Fugaku, keeping his crossed arms tucked together in his sleeves. "You look so intense. You'll scare off the spirits like that."

Sasuke glared at Naruto before screwing his eyes shut once more. As if Naruto were little more than a pest, but the vitriol that Naruto had seen in the faces of villagers past simply was not there. Just an annoyed little boy that had trouble following directions when it came to old people things like praying at a shrine.

"You know, Sasuke, you don't have to make a wish if you don't want to," said Naruto, poking a clawed finger into the boy's cheek until he was shaken off. "You look like you're taking a dump. That's totally an ' I'm taking a dump ' face, ya know!"

Fugaku gave Sasuke a brief word of praise for doing well to honor his clan, stopping them only to bow in the direction of the sanctuary again when they reached the torii gate. His son held onto his gray pants with a tight, sweaty grip for every step.

"See you next week!" called out Naruto, waving wildly at the pair. "And if you don't wanna pray, you can always bring me a snack! I like melon buns!"

Sasuke turned his head while Fugaku wasn't looking, and angrily stuck a tongue out in Naruto's direction. The fox snorted, and stuck his tongue out right back. He howled with glee. This was going to be so much fun.


The most pious villagers only visited once a week if they were shinobi, usually important members of clan families that wanted to curry favor with the remaining fox kami. Whether it was just for appearances and tradition's sake or if they really truly wanted the fox on their side didn't matter to Naruto. Most prayers amounted to nothing anyway.

If they were old men and women with nothing better to do, they'd come a few mornings a week with a tangerine or a small bottle of sake that Naruto wouldn’t drink. Then they'd hang out on the shrine grounds for half an hour like he wanted to hear them bicker about the ethics of "paying respects to the demon fox" versus "thanking the fox kami for the village's prosperous blessings." And without fail, they'd always talk about going to some human establishment that Naruto could only put together in vague shapes with his scant imagination. Usually they went to Ichiraku's after, whoever that was.

And today was Tuesday. Maybe. Probably.

Naruto only guessed it was Tuesday because the groundskeeper and lowly priest the Hokage hired to take care of the shrine grounds after Kurama and Kushina's deaths weren't here. Tuesdays were their days off, which meant he would be bored all day. There were much fewer visitors, because it was more polite to visit when the priest was on premises, even though he didn't really do anything besides some rites and rituals Naruto didn't really understand, and counting the offering box money to track in the books.

There was no one to play stupid pranks on, but maybe he could set a couple up for someone to set off in a few days? Like drawing dicks on the priest’s face last week? The man thought that it was a couple academy brats that had come to pray, which Naruto felt bad about possibly getting the last group of kids that stopped by in trouble, so he swore off drawing on the priest’s face again. At least for a little while.

Naruto sighed and threw himself on the sanctuary's wooden porch, shoji screen thrown wide open so he could lounge and watch light filter through the verdant forest canopy above him.

Cicadas screamed and warbled in the trees, drowning out thoughts of boredom yet also becoming the theme of it. He could play in the forest, but the other spirits tended to avoid him ever since he'd risen to a much higher station. They could probably smell the godly powers rolling off him. Maybe he stank of spiritual power and unwanted responsibility.

He could go into town, into the bustling market that Kushina always spoke of... But he wasn't really allowed to. The Third Hokage made that clear to him during his first reign, wagging a wizened and wrinkled finger to inform them that " under no circumstances are the foxes to come into human land, just as the humans aren't to go into the spirit forest behind the shrine without permission. " Naruto rolled his eyes. Fat lot of good was that promise.

The wide expanse of wilderness past the edge of Konoha became less "spirit forest" and more "regular forest" each year as humans stretched their hands and feet farther into old land. Naruto hadn't spoken to another spirit in years, and even when he had, they'd scurried off as soon as they realized who he was.

The only spirits he saw anymore were the kodama high in the boughs of the trees, whose only sounds were the echoing clatter of their shaking heads. At this point, they'd make better wind chimes than fishing hole buddies.

Cardboard ripped somewhere to his right, and a few tiny thumps landed on the porch like heavy rain. He opened his bleary eyes to see Sasuke, vaguely silhouetted against the speckled afternoon sunrays.

"This isn't melon bread," said Naruto as he gingerly picked up a blue box. Yellow pomelos crowded along the edge. What sounded like little rocks rattled around inside as he turned it each way. Two more lay on their sides, and Sasuke was already holding a fourth in his own hands.

"Duh. It's bontan ame ." Sasuke rolled his eyes and pointed at the red script printed on the box. "Says it right there."

"I know what rice candy is!" Naruto whined, but tore open the pack a little wider anyway and popped two rice paper-wrapped candies in his mouth. Sasuke sat on the edge of the sanctuary porch– the engawa –which totally was not allowed at a shrine, but Naruto only felt a prickling of excitement at the first human to willingly get close to him in years. "What are you doing here anyway? Didn't you come with your dad only two days ago?"

"Dad's in some big important meeting all day, and Itachi's out on a mission," said Sasuke matter-of-factly, but the pout in his lip made it clear he was less than pleased about being left on his own all day. "It's always boring when the adults talk anyway. But as long as I don't interrupt them, I can basically do whatever I want."

"Like bring candy to the shrine?" Sasuke nodded.

"Like bring candy to the ungrateful weirdo at the shrine."

Naruto rolled his eyes, but there was no heat in it. He popped another candy from the floor in his mouth, dust be damned with how often the priest wiped the floors. The rice paper melted between his teeth until only the thick jelly remained, sticking his fangs together.

"Thanks, Sasuke." The other boy shrugged and just shook another box of candy until Naruto grabbed it to dig in.

"How come you know my name anyway?" Sasuke leaned back on his palms, trying to seem casual.

"Your family says it all the time when you visit, dummy. And they've been coming around here a lot longer than you have," said Naruto. He counted the fingers on his non-sticky hand. "There's Fugaku, Mikoto, Itachi, and you. Sometimes Itachi comes with Shisui, and there's a couple others from your clan but they don't show up as often."

"Oh." The boy said simply. Sasuke swung his legs on the porch, rolling over his thoughts before voicing them out loud. A small prickle of unease set itself loose in Naruto’s veins as Sasuke stared at everything that set Naruto apart from any other little boy. His clawed nails, his nine long, orange tails splayed out behind him. His slitted eyes and antique hakama . "Are you the shrine god? I always thought the great fox would be a lot bigger. But you're shorter than me."

"I'm not short! My dad was just freakishly huge, like mountain-size huge!" yelled Naruto, pointing a finger right in Sasuke's face. That prickle of unease melted away. Now it was just the heat that pricked his ears and neck. "But I'm the shrine god now, and I'm gonna be even bigger and better than he was, believe it! Your house will barely reach my knees!"

Sasuke burst into snorting cackles. 

"Like a gundam? Or Godzilla?" asked the boy.

Godzilla? Like a mega-god? The godliest of shrine gods? Sign him up, Naruto thought.

"Yeah, like Godzilla!" Sasuke only laughed harder, trying to hide his face in his arms like he wasn't flushing red. "I'm gonna be the godliest of zillas!"

"Take this!" Naruto grabbed a handful of candy and shoved it in Sasuke's mouth mid-laugh. The two wrestled on the porch, rolling over stray candies, and dropping others in the dirt below.

"Will you be coming back?" Naruto forced his voice to stay even, lest it warble somewhere between nervousness and excitement.

"Only if you eat the candy I bring with me," said Sasuke. "I don't like a lot of sweet things."

A set of pearly white fangs nearly split Naruto’s jaw from his head. And if smiling so much made his cheeks hurt, he’d welcome the twinge of pain if it meant he wouldn’t have another boring day.

"Bring me something good and we got a deal."

Notes:

Writing this chapter was how I found out that the Botan Rice Candy of my childhood (with the red and green box, and the baby and cat-shaped mosquito smoker art) is apparently a version that is specifically made for exporting to North America.