Chapter Text
Kizashi Haruno, a Jounin-level ninja, watched in horror at the scene of terror unfolding a short distance away. A monstrous fox of colossal size, possessing nine tails, was causing pandemonium in his village. Destruction was immediate: debris of all sizes flew in different directions, while terrified civilians and shinobi scrambled to escape. The beast's roar echoed like endless thunder, and the air smelled of ash and despair.
The image of his wife, Mebuki, and his daughter, Sakura (only a few months old) flashed through his mind. He knew they weren't near the attack, but he wanted to make sure they were safe, that they had managed to evacuate in time. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the knot of worry tightening in his chest, and began to run in the opposite direction of the fleeing crowd. His feet moved with agility and precision, dodging people seeking refuge. He scaled the roofs of the houses and buildings still standing, jumping from one to another while never losing sight of the beast.
Suddenly, something caught his attention. In the midst of the chaos, a gigantic figure emerged in front of the fox. It was a toad, as colossal as the beast it faced. Atop its head, Kizashi recognized a man with blonde hair who radiated an aura of power. "Minato?" he thought, recognizing the Fourth Hokage. The sight of Minato brought to mind Kushina Uzumaki, the young woman with dark red hair whom he had watched grow up and whom he considered almost like a younger sister. "They have to be okay... Mebuki, Sakura... Kushina... they have to be okay," he pleaded to himself, as if his words could become a prayer to protect them.
The two beasts began to fight, and the impact of their movements made the earth tremble. Kizashi knew he couldn't stay to watch. He had to keep moving. But before he could advance, a familiar voice called out to him.
"Kizashi-san!" It was Choza Akimichi, one of his younger comrades. His face, normally serene and cheerful, was now pale and full of worry.
"What are you doing here?! We have to keep evacuating!" Choza exclaimed, his voice urgent.
"My wife and daughter… Do you know if District 6 has already…" Kizashi began to say, but Choza interrupted him.
"I know as little as you do, Kizashi-san," the Akimichi ninja said, his voice attempting to be reassuring. "But District 6 isn't near here. I'm sure they must be safe… We have to get out of here! Only the Hokage can resolve this. We just need to keep everyone we find away from this area." He paused and added, "I have to meet up with Inoichi and Shikaku." Before Kizashi could respond, Choza disappeared into the smoke and debris.
Kizashi turned around, determined to continue his duty as a shinobi. He moved across the rooftops, jumping from one building to another, until he reached an area further from the epicenter of the attack. There, he encountered a group of several teenage ninjas who were moving wounded civilians. He recognized several of them, and it at least reassured him to know they were safe and fulfilling their duties.
"Kizashi-sensei! It’s good to find you!" his student Aoba Yamashiro exclaimed, running toward him with evident relief on his face. "We just arrived with this group. We can't get to the hospital yet…" he added, pointing to the wounded civilians lying on the ground, some groaning in pain, others too weak to speak.
Kizashi observed the wounded with a mixture of concern and determination. He knew there was no time to lose. With a firm but calm voice, he gave clear instructions:
"Very well, continue the search. If you find more wounded civilians, bring them here immediately," he ordered, pausing to look Aoba and the others directly in the eye. "And be careful. We don't know if the beast has been completely contained."
Aoba nodded quickly, understanding the gravity of the situation. Without wasting any more time, he turned to his companions and, with a hand gesture, guided them back toward the devastated streets. Kizashi watched them for a moment, making sure they were ready to face what awaited them, before turning his attention back to the wounded.
He knelt beside the first civilian, a middle-aged man with a deep wound in his arm. With precise and steady movements, Kizashi began to apply medical ninjutsu techniques, channeling his chakra to close the wound and alleviate the pain. However, as he progressed, the number of wounded continued to increase. Soon, other medical ninjas joined him, but the magnitude of the task was overwhelming. After treating patient number 37, Kizashi felt his strength flagging. He needed a breather. A younger ninja took his place, and he retired to rest near a group of five shinobi waiting for instructions.
The scene unfolding before his eyes felt painfully familiar. It was as if time had stopped and transported him back to the darkest days of the Third Great Ninja War. The cries of pain, the smell of blood and ash, the feeling of helplessness in the face of such destruction. It was all a horrific reminder of how Konoha's shinobi forces had been pushed to the limit, to the brink of defeat. Those days had left deep scars, not only on the village but in the heart of every ninja who had survived.
Kizashi closed his eyes for a moment, trying to push those images out of his mind. He couldn't afford to relive the past. But it was hard to ignore the similarity between back then and this moment. Only a few years had passed since the end of the war, and they were already facing a new calamity. The village, which was only just beginning to heal, was being struck again with brutal force. It was as if peace were a luxury they could never afford for long.
They all shared the same expression of terror, though some handled it better than others. Some expressed their worry for comrades and family members, while others simply remained silent, overwhelmed by the tragedy.
"The central district and the surrounding areas have been the hardest hit," a shinobi from the Hyuuga clan commented, his voice grave. "The fox practically pulverized many of the homes..."
"How the hell did that damned thing appear in the first place?!" another ninja exclaimed, hysterical. "How are we ever going to recover from this?!"
"I have family living in the central district!" a kunoichi sobbed. "Does that mean there’s no hope of me seeing them ever again?"
"I had friends who were there as well..." another murmured, on the verge of tears.
The comments only increased Kizashi’s anguish. But then, a young ninja from the Aburame clan, wearing black glasses and speaking in an expressionless voice, intervened:
"It is known that the Hokage’s wife is the vessel for the Kyuubi, the Nine-Tailed Fox..."
The Hyuuga ninja tried to quiet him. "Not everyone knows that. That information is only known by Jounin-level ninjas and those closest to the Hokage."
"At this point, it’s an open secret," the Aburame replied calmly. "What I am getting at is that the Hokage’s wife was pregnant. She hadn't been making many public appearances lately, and the last time she was seen, she was in an advanced state of pregnancy..."
"Wait!" the hysterical ninja interrupted. "Are you saying she lost control of that beast because of her pregnancy?"
"Or perhaps she went into labor, and that caused whatever was keeping the fox inside her to fail or lose its effect..." the kunoichi speculated.
"Yes, both conjectures are valid," said the Aburame. "But we are also talking about the Hokage’s wife. Minato-sama and she must have foreseen that. It is obvious that to keep the beast locked away, they would have had to go through a delicate and complicated process of jutsus and sealing..."
"That’s it, then!" the hysterical ninja said with a triumphant air. "Something went wrong with those seals, and now Konoha is paying the price!"
"I highly doubt it was a mistake," the Hyuuga commented. "Much less one made by the Hokage himself."
"I don’t believe so either," the Aburame murmured, almost in a whisper. "Someone must have interfered... Someone caused everything to go wrong..."
"Please! Don’t give the Hokage so much credit!" the hysterical ninja shouted. "Surely neither he nor his wife were capable of keeping that monster locked up!"
Kizashi had had enough. He stood up, ready to silence those ninjas, but before he could do anything, another ninja came running, announcing with excitement:
"It’s gone! The fox disappeared! The Hokage did it!"
Mebuki Haruno held her daughter firmly, her arms trembling slightly, not from the weight of little Sakura, but from the anxiety consuming her. Finally, the massive armored doors of the shelter began to open slowly, creaking as they moved. The crowd of civilians packed inside held their breath collectively. The tension in the air was palpable, like a thick fog enveloping everyone. Every face reflected the same questions: How would they find their homes? What would be left of the streets they used to walk? How much destruction had that monstrous beast left behind? And, above all, would they ever see the friends and family members they had been separated from during the evacuation?
Mebuki, however, had only one person on her mind: her beloved husband, Kizashi. Although she loved him deeply, she hated the profession he had chosen. Every time he left for a mission, he left behind hours of anguish and sleepless nights for her. They had married shortly after he returned to Konoha, and he had promised her two things: that he would always return alive and that he would retire from his career as a shinobi as soon as they had a child. The events of that fateful night reminded her of that second promise, and Mebuki was determined to make him remember it. She couldn't bear the thought of her family remaining exposed to such danger.
The people began to exit the shelter in an orderly flow, but that order soon broke when the first civilians saw the state of the village. Exclamations of horror and despair echoed through the air. Some stopped in their tracks, unable to process the devastation before their eyes. Others ran toward what was left of their homes, hoping to find something or someone that would give them a bit of hope.
Mebuki, being the nervous woman she was, began to grow impatient. She couldn't stand still while her husband was out there in the middle of the chaos. With Sakura still asleep in her arms, she pushed her way through the crowd, walking with a quick but careful pace. Heartbreaking scenes unfolded around her: families reuniting through tears and hugs, others shouting the names of lost loved ones, and some simply standing paralyzed, unable to accept reality.
The noise of the tumult began to wake Sakura, who murmured softly in her mother's arms. Mebuki cradled her tenderly, whispering words of comfort, but her attention was elsewhere. Suddenly, she heard it: a familiar voice rising above the chaos.
"Mebuki! Mebuki!" Kizashi’s voice rang out from a distance.
She stopped dead in her tracks, her heart pounding. She began to look frantically around her until she saw it: a head of hair with an unusual shade that stood out among the crowd. Kizashi, dressed in his shinobi uniform, looked exhausted. He made his way through the people, pushing gently but firmly, until he finally reached her side.
Without saying a word, Mebuki was enveloped in her husband's arms. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling relief flood over her. With one free hand, she caressed the back of Kizashi's neck, pulling his head close to hers. For an instant, the outside world disappeared.
"I’m so glad to see you both," Kizashi whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Then he pulled back just enough to look at Sakura, who was now wide awake, her small green eyes watching her father with curiosity. Kizashi took her into his arms with care.
Mebuki watched him in silence for a moment before asking in a low but firm voice:
"That beast that attacked us... it was the Kyuubi, wasn't it?"
Her gaze was full of worry, but also of deep understanding. Although she was a civilian and a merchant, Mebuki was no stranger to the world of shinobi. She knew what that attack meant and the implications it would have for the village and her family.
Kizashi looked into her eyes, his expression serious. Gently, he took her hand and whispered:
"Not here, dear. First, let’s go home."
Mebuki nodded, but she couldn't help asking with noticeable concern:
"Is our house still standing?"
Kizashi smiled at her, a small but comforting gesture.
"Of course it is. I made sure of it before I came looking for you," he said, trying to instill confidence in her. "A few neighboring houses were unlucky enough to be hit by debris, but in general, our district is one of the least affected."
The couple continued on their way in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Mebuki walked beside Kizashi, her hand still intertwined with his, while he carried Sakura in his arms. Although the relief of being together again was immense, a sense of unease lingered in the air. They knew that even though the beast had been defeated, the consequences of that night would change their lives forever.
Unfortunately, as Kizashi had suspected, the peace in the Haruno household did not last long. Hours after returning home, the family was in the living room, trying to reclaim a sense of normalcy. Sakura slept peacefully in her crib, oblivious to the weight of the tragedy that had shaken the village. Mebuki and Kizashi sat together, speaking in low voices so as not to wake the little one.
"Honey," Mebuki began, her voice a mixture of softness and firmness, "do you remember that distant promise you made? To retire as a ninja and become a merchant once we had a child?"
Kizashi looked at her with a hint of amusement. Mebuki continued:
"Well, now that we have Sakura, and after everything that has happened…" She paused, searching for the right words. "I don’t want to live in constant fear that something will happen to you. I don’t want our daughter to grow up without her father."
Kizashi looked at her, his eyes reflecting an internal struggle. He knew Mebuki was right, but he also felt the weight of his duty as a shinobi. Before he could respond, a knock at the door interrupted their conversation. They looked at each other, surprised. Kizashi stood up and opened the door, finding one of his comrades—a high-ranking ninja with a solemn expression.
"Kizashi," the man said in a grave voice, "I’m sorry to interrupt, but I bring official news you should know, since you were someone close to the Hokage’s wife."
Kizashi nodded, inviting him in immediately. The ninja stood in the living room, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. Mebuki stood up as well, sensing that something serious had happened.
"The Fourth Hokage and his wife, Kushina, have passed away," the ninja announced, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "They sacrificed their lives to save the village from the Nine-Tailed Fox. Their newborn son, Naruto, survived."
The words fell like a bomb in the room. Mebuki pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to stifle a cry. Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered Kushina: her infectious laugh, her jovial personality, and how she always joked about how their children would be friends and, maybe one day, a couple. The image of a Kushina full of life contrasted brutally with the news of her death.
"It can't be…" Mebuki murmured through her tears. "Kushina… she was so happy, so excited to be a mother…"
Kizashi did not cry, but the pain on his face was evident. He had known Kushina since they were both children, when they had to flee the war that broke out in Uzushiogakure, their homeland. He had watched her grow up, become a strong and brave kunoichi, and find love with Minato. He also felt a deep respect and admiration for the now-deceased Hokage, who had not only been an exceptional leader but also Kushina’s first true friend in Konoha.
"Thank you for the information," Kizashi finally said, his voice firm but heavy with emotion. "Is there anything else we should know?"
The ninja shook his head.
"That is all for now. Official details will be released in the coming hours. I am very sorry for your loss."
Once the ninja left, the room was plunged into a heavy silence. Mebuki sat down again, still in shock, while Kizashi remained standing, lost in thought. The official news was clear, but Kizashi knew there was more behind what was being said,details that, undoubtedly, would not be made public.
"What really happened that night, Kizashi?" Mebuki asked softly, breaking the silence. "How could everything go so wrong?"
Kizashi sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"I don’t know. But there’s something they aren’t saying; something doesn’t fit," he said, his mind racing through the pieces of the puzzle. "I remember a conversation I overheard between some shinobi after the attack. They were talking about how a third party might have caused it…"
"Was there someone behind this, then?" Mebuki asked, trying to control her sobs. Kizashi didn’t answer, but the questions piled up in his mind, one after another, without clear answers.
Kizashi knew that the village's high command would prevent any crucial information from leaking. They would only release half-truths, just enough to calm the population, but not enough to answer the questions that really mattered: How did it all happen? What happened to the fox? Was it sealed? And if it was, who is the new vessel or jinchuriki? And Naruto, what will become of him now?
"Kizashi," Mebuki called softly, snapping her husband out of his trance. He approached and knelt heavily in front of his wife, resting his head on Mebuki’s lap.
"Don’t worry, dear. I will keep my promise…" Finally, the shinobi allowed himself to weep in his wife's lap, while she stroked his hair, sharing the grief of their loss.
The smoke from the incense mingled with the smoke from the pipe that hung tremulously from the lips of the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi. The office, usually full of movement and voices, was now plunged into a deathly calm, interrupted only by the rustle of paper beneath his fingers as he reviewed reports, one after another. But the words no longer meant anything. Not after that night.
On the desk, the portrait of his wife, Biwako Sarutobi, was covered by a white cloth, halfway pulled back. Hiruzen had not yet found the courage to look at it directly.
She had died fulfilling her duty, helping to bring Minato and Kushina’s son into the world. Or at least, that’s what they told him at first. The truth had arrived shortly after, wrapped in silence, sealed in a report with red ink: she didn’t die because of the Kyuubi. She was murdered. A precise, deep wound with clear intent: a premeditated attack.
That could only mean one thing: the Kyuubi’s escape was no accident.
In front of his desk, a small bundle wrapped in a blanket slept in a makeshift crib: a newborn named Naruto. The boy breathed, oblivious to everything. Oblivious to the death of his parents. Oblivious to the fact that his existence was already a subject of dispute.
"Minato… Kushina… I’m sorry," Hiruzen murmured, barely audible, his voice cracking with pain.
He had promised to protect him. Not just as Hokage, but as a friend, as a witness to the flame of hope that the Yondaime wanted to leave to Konoha. But not even twenty-four hours had passed since the catastrophe, and already the Council had gathered like scavengers over a still-warm corpse.
The sound of the door opening pulled him from his thoughts. Danzo Shimura entered without waiting for an invitation.
"You cannot afford the luxury of mourning, Hiruzen. Not when the village’s security is at stake," he said bluntly, glancing sideways at the crib.
"She was there, Danzo… Biwako. Helping with the birth. She was one of the first to fall. But not because of the beast."
"Are you insinuating that someone murdered her?"
"It’s not an insinuation. I am certain. The wound was clean, quick… professional. Someone was there before the Kyuubi broke loose. Someone eliminated the witnesses."
Danzo narrowed his eyes.
"And Jiraiya? Where was the legendary Sannin while his godson was being born? Curious that he hasn't reported in yet, isn't it?"
Hiruzen clenched his fists.
"Jiraiya received a surveillance mission weeks ago, you know that well. Minato trusted him as the child’s legal guardian… and he accepted. Don’t you dare insinuate—"
"What I insinuate is irrelevant, Hiruzen. The elders have decided the child will not carry the Namikaze surname. The world must not know that the son of Konoha’s most powerful ninja lives. If it were known…"
"And so we deny him his lineage? We tear his father's name away from him?"
"We give him life, Hiruzen. We hide him where no one can use him as currency for war. The surname Uzumaki will be enough. After all, only his mother carried it… and no one remembers the Uzumaki."
A tense silence settled over the room.
"We have also decided that the events of tonight will be an S-class secret. No one outside the Council and you will know the truth about the Jinchuriki."
Hiruzen turned slowly, facing the man who had been his companion for years, and also his shadow.
"You cannot decide a child's future as if he were a tool. You will not train him. He will not be under your tutelage. He will not be a weapon for Root."
Danzo did not respond immediately. Then, he took a step toward the crib.
"That child carries the Kyuubi inside. He is no longer just an orphan. He is a high-risk military asset."
"He is a child, Danzo!" Hiruzen exclaimed with contained rage. "Minato asked me. I promised. I told him I would give him a normal life, that he would grow up like any other. That he would know who his father was. I cannot break that promise."
"Then you will have him killed," Danzo whispered. "Or worse yet, kidnapped and turned into a weapon against us. Not all enemies from the past have disappeared."
Hiruzen closed his eyes. In his mind, Minato's words echoed like a distant refrain: "I want him to live, I want him to be free. And that one day he knows his parents loved him."
When he opened his eyes, they were colder.
"Naruto will grow up in this village. But you will not touch him, Danzo. If Jiraiya returns, he will be the guardian. Until then, I will see to it that he lacks for nothing. He will not be raised as a weapon. Not as long as I breathe."
Danzo watched him in silence for a few eternal seconds. Then, he turned around.
"As you wish, Hokage-sama. But don't say I didn't warn you."
And with that, he left.
Hiruzen looked back at Naruto, who was sleeping peacefully. He reached out and placed a finger over the baby's tiny hand.
"I’m sorry, little one. The world won't be fair to you. But as long as I’m here… I’ll make sure it’s at least a little bit kinder."
Hours passed. The ashes of the disaster still drifted over the broken rooftops, while the air carried a tense, thick silence, broken only by the muffled wails echoing from every corner of Konoha. Finally, the mass funeral was announced for the Yondaime Hokage, his wife Kushina Uzumaki, and all the victims who had perished during the catastrophe.
The sky seemed to have understood as well: it was covered in a perpetual gray, rainless but motionless, as if nature itself refused to turn the page.
The ceremony was sober. There were no grand speeches, no war cries, only silence and bated breath. Grief was breathed in like dust. Hundreds of citizens, wounded ninjas, civilians covered in bandages, and orphaned children lined up in the ruins of what had once been the great plaza of the Hokage Tower. Among them, Kizashi and Mebuki Haruno, holding their daughter in their arms, watched in silence.
Several days later, while the murmur of mourning still vibrated within the walls, a man with long messy white hair named Jiraiya returned to Konoha.
No one had announced him. No one expected him anymore.
His eyes were somber. Scarcely had he crossed the threshold of Hiruzen's office when he was summoned to a formal hearing. The Council awaited him: the elders Homura and Koharu, as well as Danzo Shimura.
The topic was clear from the start: the fate of Naruto Uzumaki.
"First of all, my condolences for your loss, Hiruzen," Jiraiya said with a respectful bow to his former master. The Third Hokage remained silent, his expression grim.
"In the first place, Jiraiya, as you well know, the office of the Fifth Hokage is available," Homura began in a grave tone, "and unfortunately, we do not have many candidate options... Since you are here, we need to know if you would accept such a task."
Jiraiya raised an eyebrow, almost mockingly.
"I’m not interested in the position. I’ve never been interested."
"Then you have come for the boy?" Koharu intervened.
"Of course I have. It is my duty. It’s what Minato would have wanted," he replied, more serious this time.
Danzo did not miss the opportunity.
"And are we to entrust such an important child to someone like you?" he inquired with disdain. "An irresponsible libertine who has spent years wandering the world, without discipline or honor. Your teammates were no better..."
Jiraiya narrowed his eyes.
"Watch your words, Danzo."
But Danzo did not stop.
"—…Tsunade, a gambling drunk who went into self-exile... Orochimaru, a power-hungry psychopath who betrayed the village... And of course, you… a rootless vagabond. I cannot believe such specimens are called our ‘Legendary Sannin.’"
Jiraiya took a step forward, his jaw tight with contained rage.
"What you say about me doesn't matter. But Naruto is still my responsibility."
"Do you really expect us to trust the child to someone who showed up weeks after an attack of these proportions?" Danzo insisted with a cynical sneer. "Surely you were drunk in some seedy brothel in the arms of some harlot..."
Jiraiya was about to retort, but Hiruzen raised a hand. His expression was solemn and weary.
"Jiraiya… you were the first to be informed of the attack. Why did it take you so long to return?"
The Sannin clenched his fists.
"I was far away. It took me time to get here. But I’m here now! For my promise to Minato! For the little one!"
"The child must stay here… If it were known that the son of the Yellow Flash is alive, be assured it would be a manhunt," Koharu sentenced.
"That is why he will carry the surname Uzumaki," Homura added. "It is a less known lineage, and his mother always lived in secret. His identity as a Jinchūriki will be an S-class truth. Konoha will keep him under its protection."
"Protection? You’re going to hide him as if he were a bomb about to explode!"
Danzo gave a faint smile. "Exactly."
"No… I... I can train him. Raise him. Take him with me. He’ll be safer if I take him away from here…" Jiraiya tried again.
"And you think that is enough?" Danzo responded coldly. "You have no experience raising children. You have no home. Where will he live? What will he eat? What education will he be exposed to? To the 'teachings' of a ninja who hides in brothels and taverns?"
"Shut your mouth, you bastard!" the Sannin growled.
"Don’t come here claiming the child as if you knew how to raise someone!" Danzo continued. "We cannot leave the Jinchūriki in your hands!"
The atmosphere became very heavy. Jiraiya looked back at his master.
"Hiruzen… it’s my right. It’s the Yondaime’s will. He is my godson!"
But the answer did not come immediately. Hiruzen removed his Hokage hat with a sigh.
"I didn't want it to come to this… but the decision has already been made," he said at last, unable to meet Jiraiya's gaze. "Naruto will be placed under the custody of the village. He will go to an orphanage. When he is older, he will enter the ninja academy."
Jiraiya stood motionless and stunned.
"Just like that...? You’re going to deny me Naruto? You?"
The old Hokage looked at him with regret.
"The option for you to stay here indefinitely in Konoha was always there for you; that way, you could have helped us raise him… But I know my former students very well… you cannot stay still in one place, always oblivious to your surroundings… that is your nature, Jiraiya. So, leave the village as you always do. You may return for him once he has become a Genin, only then… he will be able to choose for himself: whether to go with you or to stay."
The Council did not say another word. Jiraiya didn't say anything else either; he simply lowered his gaze. He left feeling devastated.
Hiruzen remained in silence for a long time after Jiraiya had departed. The door still swayed slightly, letting in a gust of cold air that stirred the papers on his desk. The Third Hokage took off his hat, placed it carefully to the side, and sat down. For a moment, he was not the leader of the village. He was just an old man exhausted by his own decisions.
He knew he had done the right thing, and yet it hurt him. He had wanted to hand over the boy. He had been willing. Naruto deserved to have a bond, a link to someone who had loved his parents, someone who understood what he carried inside.
But once again, his former student had failed him. Jiraiya had taken too long to return. He showed no plan, no guarantees, no preparation. Only impulses and words. And the time for sentimentality was long gone. Duty had to prevail. That was how old men comforted themselves.
"Wise as always, Hiruzen," Danzo said, breaking in unannounced. "I am glad to see that you can still place the good of the village above your emotions."
Sarutobi did not look at him. "Have you come to gloat?"
"No. To inform you." Danzo walked with his usual slow pace, leaning on his cane. "The investigations into the Kyuubi attack… have yielded new information. There are witnesses who claim to have seen a hooded figure controlling the beast with his eyes."
Hiruzen frowned. "Are you saying someone used genjutsu on the Kyuubi?"
Danzo nodded. "Only one lineage has demonstrated such a capacity. The Uchiha. The Sharingan, as you know, can control chakra beasts. Even Minato recognized it. He himself said their power was comparable to that of gods."
The silence returned, heavy.
"You have no proof," Hiruzen whispered.
"Not yet," Danzo accepted, unfazed. "But we have indications. The Kyuubi did not attack by accident. It was summoned and manipulated. And there is only one clan in this village with the power to do it."
Hiruzen leaned back in his seat, resting a hand on his forehead. "You want me to investigate them?"
"For the good of everyone. For the stability of the village. The Uchiha clan has had tensions with the government for years. Their power, their pride… it is a ticking time bomb."
Sarutobi closed his eyes. It was no longer just about the fate of one child. Now there was a new threat looming in the shadows.
"I will do what must be done," he said, without conviction. "But I will not allow you to turn this into a witch hunt."
Danzo gave a thin smile. "Of course. All in the name of peace."
When the old man was alone once more, he looked back at the Hokage's hat. How much heavier it grew each day. For now, Naruto would be in an orphanage. He would do everything possible to see him raised as a normal child, though he knew that was an illusion. His origin could not be revealed. No one must know what was sealed inside him.
He would assign ANBU for his protection. Day and night. He himself would try to visit him, though time was no longer on his side as it used to be. Perhaps, one day, he could tell him that he did it all to protect him.
But that day was very far away.
A couple of days later, Hiruzen remained in his worn leather seat, flipping through the laconic reports of the ANBU squads. His face, creased by wrinkles that the last year had chiseled more deeply, showed a bone-deep weariness, but his eyes, behind his glasses, retained the sharpness of a hawk. Suddenly, three discreet knocks, echoed against the oak door.
"Come in," he said without looking up, already knowing by the rhythm of the knock who was requesting entry.
The figure entered without hesitation, with a step that was both silent and purposeful. The ANBU uniform, dark as midnight and tailored for stealth, contrasted starkly with the pallor and youth of this ninja, with silver hair and a face covered except for his right eye. Kakashi Hatake squared himself in front of the enormous desk, his back straight as a kunai. His voice, when he spoke, was dry, professional, but with a barely perceptible tremor that only someone like Hiruzen could detect.
"Hokage-sama. I formally request to be assigned to the Jinchūriki’s permanent protection team. No rotations."
Hiruzen slowly raised an eyebrow, setting the scroll aside. The smoke from his pipe curled in the still air.
"I did not expect that request so soon, Kakashi. Barely a few days have passed since the decision was made to isolate his custody. That team doesn't even have an official name yet."
"I have been patrolling the boundaries of the district where he was placed," the young man responded, without altering his tone or posture. "The 'Crow Unit' does its job, but it is only perimeter surveillance. I… I want to be the shadow that is ten paces away. Not a hundred."
The old Hokage took a few seconds that resonated in the room. He closed the report he was holding and interlaced his fingers, knuckles white beneath the wrinkled skin.
"Are you doing this for Minato?" he asked; the question was not a formality, but a scalpel aimed at the heart of the matter.
Kakashi's expression didn't flicker, but his eyes, that single visible dark eye, blinked once, quickly.
"I am doing it because no one else will do it as it should be done," he replied, and this time his voice was a sharper edge. "The others will follow orders. I will fulfill a promise I was never asked to make."
Hiruzen observed his face. He saw the icy gaze of the prodigy assassin, the armor of the child soldier. But underneath, flickering like a flame beneath ice, he saw the guilt and the rage over the loss of his fallen comrades, Obito and Rin; the admiration for Minato; and now, this new self-imposed burden.
"You are sixteen years old, Kakashi," the Hokage said, and his tone was not one of reproach, but of a deep and resigned pity. "Bearing the shadow of someone… especially someone like that… is not a mission. It is a sentence that will leave marks on you that time will not erase."
Kakashi did not respond immediately. He lowered his gaze to his own gloved hands, as if remembering the blood they had already held. When he looked up again, his voice was a stony whisper.
"My body is already covered in scars, sir. A few more won't make a difference."
There was a long silence, broken only by the faint rustle of paper in the wind from the window. Hiruzen stood up with a sigh that seemed to come from his very foundations. He walked to the large window. From there, in the distance, the new roof of the provisional orphanage could be seen, along with the tiny figures of children playing in a fenced courtyard; their laughter did not reach the tower.
"Naruto," the Hokage said, testing the name aloud—a name that, outside those walls, was a taboo. "He won’t know who you are. He won’t know that you’ve been on every rooftop facing his window, that you will count every one of his sobs in the night, that you will intercept every hateful look before it reaches him. He will live in total ignorance of the shadow that is costing you your life. Can you live with that anonymity? With protecting someone who might, one day, point at you as if you were an indifferent stranger?"
"Yes."
The response was instantaneous like a clean shot.
"And what if that day, when he grows up and feels the weight of his loneliness… he hates you for being part of the system that isolates him?" Hiruzen insisted, turning to look at him directly.
Kakashi blinked. For an instant, in his dark eye, Hiruzen thought he saw the glimmer of a lost boy.
"It doesn't matter," he said, and this time his voice had an unbreakable firmness, forged in pain. "I will do it anyway. Because when his father was my master, I learned that a shinobi who abandons his comrades is worse than trash. Because his mother died with his name on her lips, believing he would have a future. And because he…" He paused, the longest pause of the entire conversation, searching for the simplest and truest words. "He isn't the Kyūbi. He’s a baby who cries when he's hungry. A child who will fall while learning to walk. Nothing more and nothing less."
Hiruzen held his gaze, evaluating not the perfect ANBU, but the last broken link of Team Minato. He saw loyalty turned into obsession, grief turned into duty, and he knew that, for better or worse, there was no fiercer or more desperate guardian in all of Konoha.
Finally, he nodded with a slow inclination of his head.
"Very well, Kakashi. From this moment on, you are the unofficial guardian of the Jinchūriki, Naruto Uzumaki. You will have no schedule. You will have no recognition. Your reward will be silence and the certainty that, as long as you breathe, he will live. You will have my full authority and, more importantly, my trust."
Kakashi bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Hokage-sama."
As he turned to leave, Hiruzen's voice stopped him at the threshold, soft but laden with an ancestral weight:
"Kakashi. Do not lose sight of him." He made a significant pause. "But do not allow yourself to disappear so completely in his shadow that there is nothing left of you to return. Even ghosts need an anchor."
Kakashi stopped. He nodded once, an almost imperceptible movement. Then, he crossed the threshold and dissolved into the shadows of the hallway without a sound.