Naruto 1. Chapter I – A Stranger Comes To Town

DO NOTE that this story IS NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of _fanfiction_ based on the original work and its associated franchise, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with the Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.

...

A good day or good evening to you, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to my newest story on this website. Ignore my paranoid rambling above; it's something I occasionally indulge in. This specific story is primarily a _Naruto_ story, though there may be inspired references, character designs, and other crossover elements in later chapters. I will mention those in due time. To be forewarned is to be forearmed!

Please, enjoy yourself while reading this story, and if you liked or disliked it, be kind enough to leave a review. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

...

**Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox**

**Chapter I – A Stranger Comes To Town**

...

Hiruzen Sarutobi, the Hokage of Konohagakure no Sato, acknowledged leader of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, one of the most powerful ninja villages in the world, felt like an old man.

Scratch that, he _was_ an old man. Luckily enough, being Hokage mostly involved paperwork and people skills, and growing as old as he was now in a world of shinobi, whose warriors prided themselves on learning how to kill silently or in the most over-the-top manner possible, was a significant achievement.

Nevertheless, Sarutobi hated paperwork with a passion, but knew to his chagrin that it was necessary. Even during the Third Shinobi World War, paperwork had come in from _everywhere_, mostly in the form of mission reports, casualty estimates, and requests for reinforcements. In some cases, the last words or gathered information of a doomed squad arrived through a summoned creature or a messenger bird, while the ninja were never heard of again.

The Hokage could appreciate the fact that if he had to go through the civilian council's mind-numbingly _boring_ proposal for a decrease in the tax on market stalls, it still meant that his village was finally at peace.

After going over the document, quickly weighing the pros and cons and how a change in the tax would impact Konoha's economy, Hiruzen groaned and stood up from behind his desk. He stepped to the window in his office in the Hokage tower, looking over Konoha. He could see people bustling about the streets, selling their wares, yelling as carts were dragged through the streets from outlying farms, loaded with produce to be sold to city folks, merchants loudly praising their wares while the telltale flickers of fast-moving ninja appeared on the rooftops, the only obvious sign (excepting the gigantic Hokage monument) that this was not a normal town, but a military fortress.

Hiruzen smiled benignly. _His_ village. He loved it dearly.

Admittedly, perhaps it would be nice to take a break, maybe take a little walk around the village...

Soon enough, the Hokage walked through the streets, people respectfully stepping out of his way, the villagers bowing or inclining their heads as they saw his pass. Passing shinobi, off-duty or not, saluted him as they spotted him amongst the crowd. The white hat and mantle gave it away, really. While not exactly a practical garment, it wasn't meant to be – it was meant to inspire respect, respect for his position, for the power that the Kage held.

The villagers respected the kind old man for watching over the village. They still recalled how, nearly four and a half years ago, the village was nearly razed by the attack of the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox, and how the Fourth Hokage died valorously to "kill" the beast, sacrificing himself only a few months after the end of the last war.

Sarutobi continued his walk at a leisurely place. He felt guilty that he'd decided to leave his workplace on a whim, horribly throwing the plans of his ANBU bodyguards out of whack. Well, they would be able to protect him, but the elderly man nevertheless felt slightly irritated that his work forbade him to do simple things like this.

Bah, Sarutobi snorted in amusement. Old men were supposed to be stubborn. Youngsters learned to deal with it.

Suddenly, the Hokage felt something, like a small breeze flowing through the street, tickling his goatee. He stopped immediately, trying to recall where he had felt this before. The wind was dry, hot... unusual for Konoha, which was rather warm and humid during the summer.

He remembered this wind from before.

His eyes widened, and he quickly bowed his head to hide them under the wide brim of his hat.

Please, not _that_ annoying old geezer.

...

Teuchi was having a good day. Business was even better than usual, which meant something for his successful stand. His daughter had decided that she would start helping him out in his shop (something that had warmed his heart, though he had tried hard not to chuckle at how serious the ten-year old had looked when she practically _demanded_ to help out), and he was now raking in money from journeying businessmen from outside cities and local merchants stopping to eat.

It was hot, the steam from the broth warming up his whole body. Considering that it was midsummer, that wasn't pleasant. But he loved doing it nevertheless, his smile never leaving his face.

A grunt came from the bar. "'Scuse me, I'd like to order."

Still smiling, he turned around to face his new customer, who was a middle-aged man with a sake bottle in his hand, a long lute strung over his shoulder and wearing long travelling robes. He seemed harmless, the skin around his eyes wrinkled in age, his salt-and-pepper hair strung back in a ponytail. He had tired grey eyes, and he also carried a large travelling bag. On his back was a conical straw hat, hanging from his throat by a simple string. Under his robes he wore practical clothing, and like many travellers, a few pouches were attached to his belt. The handle of a tantō was visible at his left side, in easy reach in case someone decided to prey on unsuspecting journeymen.

At the moment, though, the man was rummaging through a bag, grumbling all the while. He drew himself up after a moment, with a small book in his hand. He set down his bottle and flipped through a few pages. From somewhere, he drew out a pencil, and started writing in his little book, muttering to himself.

Teuchi waited, still smiling, as the old man kept mumbling to himself.

And waited some more.

It was then that he slammed both fists right on the tabletop, causing the man to nearly fall from his stool, his eyes wide open in shock. "What the-"

"Your order, please!" Teuchi said, still smiling.

The man glared at him angrily, clutching the front of his robes. "You could have easily given me a heart attack, youngster! Are all you Leaf people so friendly, nearly scaring an old man to death?"

"With respect, sir, I don't think you're that old yet to complain about someone my age being a 'youngster'," Teuchi retorted, though he was trying hard not to laugh.

His mirth must have been obvious, because the man uncorked his bottle with an annoyed grunt, throwing back his head to drink a loud gulp. "Whatever," he grumbled. "If I'd been a shinobi, you might have been killed out of pure reflex."

"Leaf-nin aren't allowed to harm civilians, you know," Teuchi replied with his eternally present smile. "The Hokage dislikes ninja taking advantage of defenceless citizens."

The newcomer squinted at him sceptically. "Really?" he mused. "Seems like the place changed since the last time I've been here. One large beef ramen, please."

"Coming right up, sir!" Teuchi replied, grinning. As soon as the grumbling traveller returned to his book and his back was turned, the ramen maker laughed quietly. A stereotypical miserly old man. Well, at least the world was still normal.

The visitor was still poring over his book, occasionally scribbling quick notes, when a large bowl of steaming noodles entered his field of vision. "One beef ramen, sir. Enjoy!"

He grunted in thanks, not bothering to look up as he closed his book. The man had other customers to worry about.

He joined his hands in a quick blessing before taking up his chopsticks. He was tired from walking, and he wanted food. He nearly started digging in when he saw a head of spiky blonde hair out of the corner of his eye, right next to him at the counter.

Said spiky blonde hair belonged to a small, four-year old child with wide blue eyes, which stared up at him in fascination. Interestingly enough, the child had a few long birthmarks on each cheek that resembled whiskers, making his appear like a cat, or fox. The blue eyes were deep, inquisitive, and full of innocent curiosity.

The traveller glared at him with his patented 'I'm an grumpy old man, piss off' look, expecting the kid to run off in fear or embarrassment, like most children his age did. He didn't like kids. At all.

The child kept staring at him though, completely undeterred. The traveller kept up his relentless glare. A good ten seconds of the staring contest later, his patience already snapped. "What do you want, brat?" he growled, quickly glancing at his food. It was already getting cold. Cold food was a waste.

The boy kept staring. "Why do you smell?"

Dumbfounded, the traveller's head snapped back to his observer. "What?"

"I said; why do you smell?" the child enquired, blinking a few times, but refusing to stop staring.

Okay, a creepy _and_ rude child at the same time. The traveller grumbled, unhappy to be distracted from his meal. "I travelled all day along a busy road, in the blasting heat of this oven you call summer, not to mention that the damn humidity made me sweat like mad. Plus, I drink saké all the bloody time, so I probably smell like a drunk. You've got a problem with that?" he asked, grabbing his chopsticks and starting to eat. He'd be damned if he let some random local kid stop him from getting food.

The child said nothing, but continued to stare as the traveller ate ravenously. "You eat pretty fast, you know that?"

"Yeah. So?" came the grunted reply.

"I think you might eat even faster than me!" the child exclaimed in wonder.

"And how is that any of my business, brat?"

"It just seems weird. I've never seen anybody east faster than me. Are you from Konoha?"

The traveller sighed, resigned to the fact that he wouldn't able to get rid of the child. "Listen, brat, if you wanna talk to me, at least have a seat, okay?" He pointed to the stool next to him. The child climbed onto the stool with some difficulty and sat down, his head barely reaching the bar top. "Tell you what, where are your parents anyway? Didn't they teach you that bugging old men while they're eating is kinda rude?"

"I don't have parents."

The traveller stopped in the process of slurping a bunch of noodles, leaving them dangling from his mouth like a bizarre curtain over his chin. After a moment, he crammed the lot into his mouth, chewing furiously as he tried to think of something remotely tactful to say.

"No parents? Where do you live, then?"

Right. Not tactful at all.

"I live at the orphanage, but I don't like it there. I wanna go to the academy when I'm older!" the boy exclaimed, eyes shining. "I'm gonna learn how to be a ninja! And then I'm gonna be Hokage! Then the people here will have to respect me!"

A snort came from the eating man. "Sure, because everybody needs to show respect to a four-year old brat, or a man wearing a funny hat..."

The boy deflated, but immediately bounced back, staring at the man. "So, are you a ninja?"

"Am I wearing a headband, brat?"

Naruto frowned. "No."

"Well, there's your answer then." The old man with the lute continued to eat, nearly done.

"What's your name, old man?" the child asked, undeterred.

"None of your business."

"What's your job?"

"Don't have one, and like I said, it's none of your business," the traveller nearly snapped, but moderated his tone at the last moment. He was grumpy and old, yes, but yelling at kids wasn't something to be esepcially proud of.

"What's that thing on your back?"

The visitor nearly introduced his forehead to the tabletop with a loud smack to drown out the brat's voice with a lot of pain, but decided to finish up his noodles first. "Kid, if I buy you ramen, will you _please_ shut the hell up? I'm tired from walking all day."

"Where did you walk from?" the child inquired.

At this point, the traveller had finished his ramen, carefully put the dish to the side so that he had some space, and finally smacked his forehead on the top of the table.

Yeah, he _did_ feel a lot better now.

...

Nearly a bottle of saké and fifteen minutes later, the traveller had the pain in his head under control. He had learned early in his life that repeatedly giving himself some sort of head trauma was a good way to get his bearings in a new or unusual situation. He theorized that it was because the pain sharpened his senses somewhat, and he'd spent quite a while (and a few brain cells) to work out how much force needed to be applied for there not be any lasting damage while still being painful enough for the trick to work, which certainly was an interesting tightrope to walk. 'Alleviating the pain' also gave him an excuse to drink more high-proof alcohol, something he didn't mind at all.

Right now, though, the bottle was all but forgotten in his hand as he watched, open-mouthed, as the little blond shrimp finished his third – _third!_ – bowl of ramen.

He gestured to Teuchi, who leaned closer with an eyebrow raised in question, although he tried to keep himself from guffawing out loud at the expression of confusion and slightly dazed shock on the visitor's face.

"Um, pal, just a quick question," the man mumbled, still watching the brat gobbling up the noodles at record speed with some sort of morbid fascination, "do all the kids here eat that much, or is this one unusual in some way?"

Teuchi nearly choked for a moment, trying to school his face back into his usual smile. Ichiraku's guest hadn't noticed anything, still watching the blond as he noisily slurped his noodles. "Oh, Naruto's eating habits are pretty unusual, even though kids his age can put down a lot of food in one sitting."

"No kidding. I think he just ate his size in ramen," the man mumbled. Suddenly his eyes snapped around to meet Teuchi's. "Wait, what's this brat's name?"

"My name is Naruto Uzumaki, and I'm gonna be Hokage!" the boy chirped as the small four-year old attempted to lift the comparatively huge ramen bowl to noisily slurp the tasty soup left. He had to stand up on his stool to do it, but he managed to heave up the heavy bowl to head height.

At this point, he lost his balance, and fell backwards from his stool trying to keep the bowl safe, failing miserably. A resounding crash occurred as Naruto fell headlong, the bowl smashing to pieces.

"Uzumaki?" the traveller said softly, staring at the child, who looked like he was about to cry as he sat up, his clothes drenched by the broth.

"I'm sorry, Teuchi-san!" he wailed, staring at the shop owner, his eyes swimming with tears. "I didn't mean to break your bowl; it was an accident! I'll pay you back for it, I swear!"

Teuchi sighed. "Naruto-" he began, but there were some indistinct mutterings from the people surrounding them. However, the traveller's ears were rather sharp – a necessity when you travelled alone, with bandits, missing-nin, and the occasionally dodged bill as all-too present dangers.

"_Bloody demon..._" someone grumbled quietly.

"_Is the monster bothering honest folk again? He should be exiled..._" a woman's voice whispered to her friend, nearly unheard.

"_Should'a sent the brat away, I tell you, he's got no place here with us..._" a burly worker addressed his friend under his breath.

The traveller's eyes narrowed as he scanned the crowd. Ichiraku's, or whatever this ramen stand was called, was in one of the busiest streets of Konoha, meaning that there were always people walking around with business on their mind, or simply shopping with family and friends. But now, there was a gods-to-honest _crowd_ gathered in a circle around the boy (Naruto? What kinda name was that? And Uzumaki? He'd heard that somewhere before, he was sure of it), all muttering and shooting the boy glares of hate, resentment, and perhaps even a little fear...

What the hell was going on in this village?

He stared at Naruto, scanning him as the boy snivelled, all too aware of that oppressive resentment lingering in the air.

More importantly, what the hell was wrong with that boy?

...

The original manga series of _Naruto _was written and drawn by _Masashi Kishimoto_, originally published by _Shueisha_ in 1997, and is still ongoing at the time of writing (May 2012) after sixty published volumes and two different anime adaptations: one simply titled _Naruto_ by _Studio Perrot_ that premiered in October 2002 and ended in February 2007, and its sequel _Naruto: Shipuuden_ (Naruto: Hurricane Chronicles) by the same studio that premiered in February 2008 and is still ongoing at the time of writing. Various tie-in works like novels, video games, and a series of theatrical movies have been published to date.

Again, please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.


	2. Chapter II – Life Could Be Worse

DO NOTE that this story IS NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of _fanfiction_ based on the original work and its associated franchies, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with the Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.

...

Ladies and gentlemen, good day or good evening to you, and welcome to the second chapter of _Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox_. I cleaned up the first chapter - I'll remember next time not to edit my chapters in the wee hours of the morning. Seriously, some of the stuff there made me cringe. If you see any more mistakes, please point them out.

I realize that the beginning of the story might seem incredibly cliché to some. I know, I know, and I feel ashamed of it. But please give this story a chance - I plan on making things interesting very soon. That said, on with the show!

Please, enjoy yourself while reading this story, and if you liked or disliked it, be kind enough to leave a review. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

...

**Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox**

**Chapter II - Life Could Be Worse**

...

Naruto was scared. Very scared.

He knew that the villagers didn't like him. He may have only been a four year-old boy, but even a small child could tell something was wrong when he was followed by angry glares and dirty looks everywhere he went, when shopkeepers refused to let him enter their shops, or when the children at the nursery avoided him, refusing to play with him, or when he was unecessarily singled and followed by ill-meant whispers and mutterings.

Some of the village children had talked to him the first time they met him, happy to play, but they usually were dragged away by their mothers when they saw their children playing together with him. The next time Naruto saw them, overjoyed to have found a new friend, they avoided him.

And so he played alone.

He often ran away from the orphanage and its nursery. Often, there was a ninja or two that went after him to try and catch him, but Naruto was fast and smart for his age, and often managed to hide himself thanks to his small size.

But then again, he never felt that they tried too hard on his behalf...

The best times he could remember was when Grandpa visited him. He was the Hokage of the village, the strongest ninja! He told Naruto all kinds of stories what he did when he was younger, about famous heroes that he once knew and the battles he had fought in. Naruto thought it was awesome! Then he had asked Grandpa why he wasn't fighting anymore, because if he was the strongest ninja, that meant he would always win, right? Wouldn't that mean that he would be fighting all the time?

At that, his grandpa had just chuckled and told that if he would fight all the time, he wouldn't be able to visit him as often anymore. Naruto thought that was a good enough reason.

And then his wrinkled face had gotten very serious. They had been walking through a park in the village. They had stopped, and he had squatted until his face had been nearly on the same height as Naruto's.

"Naruto," he had said, speaking clearly, his eyes clear and sharp, insistent. "Being Hokage is not about being the greatest fighter. There are many great fighters, but not all are fit to be Hokage. You need to be both strong _and_ clever, and you have to _earn_ all of it. A Hokage is important to the village because the village is important to him. He protects everyone, and the villagers give him their trust in return. Do you understand?"

Naruto had nodded. Grandpa rarely looked this serious, so it must have been important. But he had understood, grinning and giving him a thumbs-up. "I'll be the Hokage after you, Grandpa! So you can retire sooner, okay? Promise!"

At that, Grandpa had chuckled before laughing out loud. Naruto had pouted and asked why he'd made fun of him, but Grandpa didn't answer. Instead, they just walked together for the rest of the day, chatting and laughing.

Naruto knew he was in trouble now, though. He had broken one of Teuchi-san's ramen bowls. The ramen maker was nice; he often gave him food for free. Once, he'd actually hidden Naruto when a genin had looked for him to take him back to the orphanage. He knew Naruto hated it there.

He didn't want Teuchi-san to look at him like all the others.

He heard the people around him muttering, talking silently. He didn't understand all of what they said, but the tone and the looks they gave him was enough. He looked around with tears in his tears, trying to see if he could get away. But the crowd around him was densely packed, there was no possible gap to slip through. And even then, Naruto wasn't too sure they wouldn't hit him when he passed...

So he crawled into a ball and waited for them to leave him alone.

...

The traveller was surprised at how he felt. It had been quite a while since he had felt this way.

He was well and truly _pissed_.

Not drunk, oh no. It took far more than a bottle of rice spirits to get the old wanderer drunk, but he was _angry_. For some reason he didn't understand, this kid was hated in the village. Not just disliked, he could understand if someone didn't like a kid because they pulled pranks or were cheeky. Hell, he usually put mouthy brats in their place himself if he could, or of their parents were unwilling.

But this was unreal – they all seemed to actually _hate_ a child that was all of four years old! They even had physically ganged up on him, a wide circle of passing men and women having stopped, encircling the small child. They hadn't hurt him, but it might have been better is someone did something, _anything_, as they muttered and glared. The kid had crawled into a ball on the street, covering his head and neck with his two arms.

The traveller's eyes flashed. He knew that pose – people assumed it on instinct when they knew they were going to take a beating they couldn't escape from and intended to endure it, protecting the head and chest on instinct, hoping that the lack of resistance would end the pain earlier, hoping that the attacker got bored and left.

_Balls to that. _

He quickly took out his money pouch, slapped a few ryo bills on the counter, his eyes not leaving the cringing boy as the muttering and quiet jeers of the crowd continued. "Keep the change," he said quietly to the worried stand owner. After that, he took his lute from the strap around his shoulder and leaned it against the counter.

He left Ichiraku's (decidedly small) protection and stepped towards the child cowering on the ground. The boy winced as he heard the footsteps, trying to make himself even smaller.

"Stand up, kid."

The child shivered, but stayed where he was. Sighing, the old man bent down and grabbed Naruto's collar. Only now he noticed that he was wearing some sort of orange jacket, which was now covered in noodle broth, dirt, and tears. He'd been crying down there; he'd been scared.

Even now, as the old man lifted the small boy easily with one hand, his eyes were clenched shut and leaking tears, his body rigid as he tried to protect himself.

"Hey, you!" someone shouted in the crowd. "Don't you dare touch that, that... that _thing_!"

There were shouts and murmurs of agreement. The old man gritted his teeth. He could easily make out a few forehead protectors in the crowd, but the shinobi were looking as resentful or indifferent as the others in the crowd.

_Protecting the village, my ass. _

"Hey," the same voice yelled, but this time a man pushed himself out of the crowd. "Didn't you hear what I said, old man?"

It was one of the ninja, wearing a green chūnin vest. His body language showed anger, hate, but the wanderer felt that it wasn't directed at him, but at the boy held up in the air – he could feel the killing intent leaking off the Leaf ninja easily, as weak as it was. Who on earth used killing intent on a kid so casually?

He set down the boy. "I've got business with the kid," he replied loudly. "What the fuck do you care?"

For a moment, the man looked taken aback before his anger returned, stronger than ever, but this time directed at the old man, not at Naruto. Good. "You shut your trap, you old fart, or I'll shut it for you, you hear me?"

The old wanderer sniggered. He had the crowd's attention now, with varying degrees of anger, curiosity, and nervousness. This was way too easy.

He stretched his back, cracking a joint or two, grinning widely at the ninja. "What're you gonna do, _boy_?" he said, emphasizing the word to infuriate the man further. "You telling me that you'll try to beat up an old man for being rude? Hell, that's one of the things I like about getting older; you can insult whoever you want and they can't do shit about it!" With that, he flipped the bird at the ninja, grinning all the while. "So, you know what? You can suck my hairy wrinkled balls for all I care!"

The chūnin was an interesting colour of red that the traveller had never seen before. It wasn't quite red as a healthy tomato or a beet, but damn, it was pretty close. However, the man tried to keep himself under control. "You shouldn't associate with that little brat," he spoke, slowing his speech in a vain effort to remain calm. "He's nothing but trouble. Always runs away from the orphanage, always rude, plays pranks on honest hardworking folk, annoys everyone..." The man's eyes narrowed. "You're laughing at me, old man, and I don't like it."

The traveller was only giggling at first, but then he burst out into full, howling laughter. All eyes of the crowd were now on the crazy old man openly laughing at the Leaf ninja, actually slapping his legs as he buckled over in amusement.

After a while, he got himself under control, although he had to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes. "Sorry, sorry," he chuckled as he saw the murderous impression of the Leaf-nin in front of him. "It's just too fuckin' funny! All I see is, what, about a hundred people surrounding one little kid, talking shit about him while he's a quivering mess on the ground, and then I'm the one getting into trouble because I said _one sentence_ to the brat?" He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Does this completely fucked-up situation make sense to you? 'Cause it sure as hell doesn't to me."

Suddenly, he felt a presence on both of his sides. Restraining himself, the traveller looked left and right rapidly to see two ninja glaring at him. The man on his left wore sunglasses hiding his eyes and a perpetual frown, being of a small and lithe build, while the other on his right was large, muscular, and menacing, his slanted black eyes narrowed. Both wore chūnin vests like their apparent teammate, their leaf protectors bound around their forehead, and standard equipment such as shuriken pouches and kunai holsters hanging from their belts.

The ninja in front of him grinned as the men appeared. "You are hereby under arrest for insulting a shinobi of the Leaf, citizen. You will escort us to the next Konoha Military Police station, where you will be subjected to interrogation until your trial."

The man's grin widened as he saw the man starting to shake. It disappeared immediately as the shaking revealed itself to be another laughing fit.

"Man, this is a riot!" the old man crowed, nearly out of breath. He composed himself, grinning impudently as the crowd muttered around him. "First of all, Mister Leaf-nin, I am _not_ a citizen of Konoha. I am a traveller that wanders where he wants to, where my whims take me, and you have _absolutely no idea_ who I am. Second, the three of you may be ninja, but you're not active members of the Konoha military police. Where's the Uchiha emblem on your uniforms? I don't see it, meaning you're not coppers, meaning you can't do shit to me. You've got no authority right now; you're just being a self-important little prick hiding behind that fancy metal plate on your forehead."

The old man's smirk grew wider, but he refused to let any anger enter it. Well, perhaps a little. "And third, if you're so intent on protecting the law, I'm pretty sure there's one _somewhere_ about protecting children when they're being threatened or slandered. This is the most civilized and humane shinobi village of them all, or so I heard. Where were you a few moments ago when the kid was being harassed in front of a hundred witnesses?"

"You old bastard," the ninja fumed, stepping forward. "I'm going to-"

"How about we go see the Hokage about this?" the old man interrupted, now grinning like the Two-Tailed Monster Cat. A wide smile showing all the teeth, but not exactly friendly. "I'm pretty sure he'd love to hear about his shinobi ignoring the plight of a little kid, don't you agree?"

At the mention of the Hokage, the crowd became unsettled, as if they remembered something important. The chūnin, however, seemed to have worked himself into such a rage that he completely ignored the uncertainty now hanging in the air.

"Saito, Kato! Grab this old drunk, we're going to give him a lesson!" the ninja yelled, anger etched on his face.

The calm reply of the traveller came immediately. "No."

"What the hell do you mean, no?" the chūnin yelled, now shouting at the top of his lungs. The old man could see that some of the civilians were starting to edge away, while a few more shinobi appeared, watching from the sidelines or from the safety of the rooftops. "I'm not giving you a choice!" He rounded on his two partners. "I told you to grab him!"

With a sign, the muscled mountain made to grab his right arm, while the smaller man wearing sunglasses moved to take hold of the traveller's left shoulder. They weren't holding on tight, obviously reluctant – it seemed that the self-important shit wasn't even popular with the people he worked with. Hah.

The old traveller looked at both of the ninja seriously, speaking quietly so that only they could hear. "I have committed no crime. You boys know that, otherwise I'd probably be screaming my head off in a prison cell right now." Saito frowned – well, the visible skin between his eyebrows narrowed, it was difficult to tell with his headband and sunglasses – while the large Kato just raised an eyebrow.

The traveller looked at them both slowly, one after the other. "If you let go of me, we can go to the Hokage and sort this mess out peacefully. If you don't," he spoke softly now, "I'll act in self-defence, and that always ends up messy."

"Kato, Saito! Get him already!" the irascible third ninja screamed, now having completely lost his composure at his teammates' hesitation.

_Honestly, they made people like these a __chūnin_ _in this village?_

"Sorry," Kato said stoically, "but we have ord-"

At this exact moment, the traveller slammed his right elbow hard in the man's solar plexus, driving out the air from his lungs, followed by the traveller's right fist springing out like a piston, hitting him with the back of his fist on the nerve cluster located on the larger man's chin.

At the same moment, the traveller moved his left foot in a simple, smooth sidestep and kicked against Saito's knee. Taking him by surprise, a resounding crack could be heard in the street as the joint broke. The traveller could have sworn that he saw the man's eyes widen behind his glasses, but he couldn't be sure.

He quickly moved his suddenly freed left hand in a simple backhanded slap. While this normally wouldn't have even fazed an experienced ninja, the fact that chakra glowed around the man's hand as he struck meant that the Leaf-nin was launched in the air for a few meters, landing at the boundary of the suddenly widening circle left by the crowd in an unceremonious heap.

Kato collapsed with a resounding crash, unconscious. The chakra-enhanced elbow and fist had completely totalled the hulking ninja, while the old traveller stood there in a rather odd taijutsu stance.

The last chūnin stared at the old traveller, his mouth furiously up and down as the old man relaxed. "That's bloody impossible!" he finally managed to get out. "You're no ninja, old man-"

"Now I'm not, dumbass," the traveller growled, fully facing the leaf-nin. "Just because I'm not wearing a forehead protector doesn't mean that I wasn't a ninja in the past. I gave up my allegiances a long time ago, kid."

"You're a missing-nin?" the Konoha ninja blurted, partly shocked and partly elated. At his exclamation, the crowd drew back. Missing-nin were dangerous, for damn good reasons too. Murderers, traitors, killers, the lot of them.

The old man glowered fiercely as the Leaf ninja drew a kunai. "Don't even think about collecting on any bounty I may have, kid." He raised open palms in a placating manner, but his grey eyes were hard. "I'm not allied to any foreign village or rebel faction; I don't take jobs except playing some music on my lute in a bar for some coins. And I sure as hell don't want any trouble." He looked the man squarely in the eye. "Just an old man passing through. Nothing more, nothing less."

"A missing-nin walking into the strongest of the five great shinobi villages," the chūnin cackled as he went into a stance. "You're either stupid or suicidal. Works for me. I'll take your head..."

The old man blinked. "Um, hello, did you listen to me?" he inquired, waving his hand exaggeratedly. "What part of 'I don't want any trouble' is so difficult to understand?'

"You hurt my teammates, and you hurt my pride," the man grinned at him, eyes wide. "I'm gonna cut your head off and tear your body to shreds, and then dance on what's left of your remains!"

Pause.

"'Scuse me, ladies and gentlemen, but does anyone know if this kind of excessively violent behaviour is considered normal here?" the old man addressed the crowd, specifically shooting a few glances at the ninja he could see. He reconsidered after a moment. "On second thought, I don't think I want to know, because if there's any more psychos like this one around here, then I think I'll be leaving _really_ soon." He squinted at the Leaf-nin. "You know, you reeeeallly don't look that well. Some rest would do you good, I'm sure. A straightjacket might not be a bad idea either." The traveller paused. "Please tell me you have a psychological ward in your hospital here, because otherwise I have no clue where I should put this guy."

"Die, you old bastard!" the chūnin roared as he leapt at the old man.

_Well_, the traveller thought as he dodged a slash that would have disembowelled him if he hadn't leapt backwards just in time_, I haven't been two hours in this village and I've already managed to blow my cover as an innocent foreign journeyman, knock out two shinobi because of some stupid kid I don't even know, catch the attention of about a hundred civilians and two dozen other ninja, and now they're all watching from the sidelines while another enraged and probably slightly psychotic ninja is trying to eviscerate me. _

He quickly settled into a stance that he was innately familiar with since his childhood and grinned mischievously as the enraged Leaf-nin barrelled towards him.

_Life could be so much worse. _

...

The original manga series of _Naruto _was written and drawn by _Masashi Kishimoto_, originally published by _Shueisha_ in 1997, and is still ongoing at the time of writing (May 2012) after sixty published volumes and two different anime adaptations: one simply titled _Naruto_ by _Studio Perrot_ that premiered in October 2002 and ended in February 2007, and its sequel _Naruto: Shipuuden_ (Naruto: Hurricane Chronicles) by the same studio that premiered in February 2008 and is still ongoing at the time of writing. Various tie-in works like novels, video games, and a series of theatrical movies have been published to date.

Again, please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.


	3. Chapter III – To Protect

DO NOTE that this story IS NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of _fanfiction_ based on the original work and its associated franchise, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with the Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.

...

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the third chapter of _Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox_. There's not much to say, really. Well, except one thing: FIGHT SCENE!

...Ahem. Please leave me your comments; I would very much appreciate them. Thank you.

Please, enjoy yourself while reading this story, and if you liked or disliked it, be kind enough to leave a review. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

...

**Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox**

**Chapter III - To Protect  
**

...

Naruto was scared. Very scared.

People hated him. He knew that. When he walked through the streets after he ran away from the nursery or orphanage, people would glare at him, mutter about him, and avoid him. Shopkeepers threw him out of their shops or refused to sell him things, even when he had the money, and they would yell and insult him when they wanted him to go away. Fear, anger, resentment, it was all there.

And now, he was surrounded by people. Naruto hated being surrounded. If it was just one shopkeeper or a few people, he could easily run away and hide. But when there was a crowd, he couldn't run away.

Naruto curled into a ball on the ground, put his arms over his head, and clenched his eyes shut.

This was one of the things that Naruto had learned: how to take a beating. Make yourself small, don't fight back (it angers people, makes them hit harder), shut your eyes tight, protect your head and stomach, and hope that it was over soon.

But mostly, Naruto curled into a ball so he wouldn't have to see the glares and tried not to listen to the whisperings and mutterings of the people around him.

Suddenly, he heard someone approach. Naruto cringed, expecting a kick.

Instead, he was poked by a big toe in a sandal.

"Stand up, kid."

That was the old man who had paid for his ramen! He'd been nice, far nicer than many of the villagers. Sure, he'd been grumpy, but many old people were like that, and he'd actually listened to him about becoming Hokage! And he'd given him ramen. Only Teuchi-san or Grandpa gave him ramen, which is why he liked to go to Ichiraku's. Once, the ramen maker had even hidden him from the ninja that had come looking for him to take him back to the orphanage. Naruto had told him once how he hated the place.

Naruto opened one eye carefully. He could see the man's feet. His toes were wiggling for some reason.

"Hey, you!" he heard a man shout. "Get away from that, that… _thing_!"

Naruto closed his eyes once more. They called him a thing again. Demon, monster… he'd been called different things, and none of them were nice. They usually yelled at him, but he thought it was worse when he heard them calling him these things in whispers and mutterings behind his back. And least he could run away from someone who shouted at him, but the whispers followed him everywhere.

The feet close to him shuffled. Naruto cringed, clenched his eyes shut, and waited for the blow to come.

It didn't come. Instead, he could hear the old man arguing loudly with the ninja. He sounded angry, but he was laughing too. But it wasn't a nice laugh.

Naruto looked up at the old man, and noticed that he was furious. He could tell, although he wasn't shouting or screaming like angry people usually did. Instead, he was tense, clenching his fists and shouting. All the people were now watching the old man and the other person argue. They had completely forgotten about him.

Suddenly, two ninja appeared next to the old man and stepped close to him, threatening. He looked at them both, and spoke quietly to them. Naruto couldn't understand them, but he didn't think anyone else could either. Naruto was scared that he'd catch the attention of the crowd again, so he curled up again and looked at the old man's toes.

They wiggled again, and suddenly the right foot shifted to point at Ichiraku's ramen. The old man slowly tapped his foot three time. Naruto frowned, sondering if it meant anything.

Suddenly, the old man elbowed the big ninja in the stomach and punched him on the chin. The crowd spread out, suddenly scared as the old man hit both ninja incredibly quickly, revealing a few gaps in the throng of people.

Naruto bolted towards the ramen stand, hoping to run past it into a side street to escape the crowd. The old man had bought him time, so he was going to run. The old man deserved that much respect after buying him ramen and saving him from the crowd.

As he had nearly managed to disappear down an alleymouth, he was grabbed by his collar and lifted in the air easily. For a moment, the little boy continued running in a panic, his legs windmilling in the empty air.

"Naruto!" Teuchi hissed as he dragged the boy through the small door on the ramen bar's side. "Stop struggling already!" As he heard the ramen maker's voice, the four-year old stopped moving.

Teuchi set down the toddler, who just stood there, his head bowed. Teuchi frowned. "Naruto, are you all right? Did they hurt you anywhere? Are you scared?"

"I'm sorry, Teuchi-san…" the little boy muttered, looking down with shame.

"What for?" the ramen maker asked, surprised.

"For breaking your bowl. I didn't mean to!" the whiskered blond wailed quietly, trying to make himself as small as possible.

The father grinned in elation, ruffling his hair. "Is that all you were worried about? A stupid ramen bowl? Don't worry, Naruto; I buy those by the dozen. It's not that important."

"Really?" the boy now looked at him, wide blue eyes open. He'd been crying, his eyes red.

Teuchi smiled an even bigger smile. He hated seeing Naruto sad. Unluckily, he'd seen him like that far too often. "Sure, it's not that big a de-"

Someone outside shouted out in surprise, and there was the sound of people shuffling away, angry and surprised mutterings. They could hear the sounds of a scuffle, punches being thrown and loud swearing. Naruto's eyes widened. "The old man! They're gonna hurt him!" he yelled, trying to climb up on the kitchen table to get a better look, to help, to do anything!

Teuchi bopped him lightly on the head. "Your old man's doing fine, Naruto; don't worry."

"Daddy?" a little voice asked. Teuchi felt his daughter's hand on his arm, and he turned to see ten-year old Ayame with frightened wide eyes. She'd been in the back when the commotion started, going through their stocks. "What's going on outside?"

Teuchi grinned as he grabbed Naruto again, this time holding him in the crook of his arm like he held Ayame when she was his age. She was nearly ten; he couldn't always life her anymore. "Take a look for yourself," he said cheerfully.

His grin grew wider as Ayame jumped on a chair behind the stand, while Naruto stared in childish fascination at the scene playing out before him.

...

The old man ducked under a swing that the chūnin had thrown, quickly sidestepping the jab with the kunai that followed immediately afterwards that nearly hit his side. _Not good_, he thought grimly as he kept dodging. _I need a weapon_.

He quickly scanned the crowd out the corner of his eye. They had dispersed a bit, but they were still rather close, forming a circle in the wide street like some sort of bizarre arena.

The chūnin tried to sweep his leg, but the spry old man nimbly jumped and catapulted himself away with a small handstand, landing a few feet away in a crouch. The ninja leapt towards him and the old man dodged the punches and kicks thrown at him, slapping away the hand holding the kunai before it stabbed him in the throat. _Ranged weapons are out_, he thought quickly, trying to find a way out. _If I hit someone with a shuriken by accident, I'm going to be in trouble later_. He dodged another jab to the throat by mere centimeters, managing to get a glimpse of his opponent's expression.

The chūnin was irate, furious at being unable to land a hit on the old man. Not only had he consistently dodged all punches and kicks thrown at him, but most of the time he hadn't even deigned to block, only occasionally slapping away the wrist of the hand holding the knife, easily keeping him at bay.

The leaf-nin again tried to sweep the man's legs, and this time it worked, resulting in the old man falling backwards. However, instead of sending him sprawling headlong, the geezer managed to roll on his shoulder, landing in a low stance, feet wide, one hand on the ground in front of him for balance. The old man looked up, glaring at him."Enough of this," he growled.

The chūnin halted, unsure. This wasn't just simple anger; he could literally _feel_ the killing intent radiating off the old man crouched before him. In the moment of hesitation, the traveller launched himself at him.

Suddenly, the leaf-nin was on the defensive as several sharp blows were launched at him. He jumped backwards in time to dodge, trying to swipe at the man's neck with the kunai, only to lose it as a punch aimed at his fingers sent the weapon clattering to the side.

The old man's taijutsu style had completely changed: instead of dodging his opponent's blows and occasionally retaliating and countering, he was now completely on the offensive, throwing quick, sharp chains of punches and jabs, his feet moving in coordinated leaps and shuffling steps to move him into reach, occasionally kicking swiftly, the speed making it impossible to counter. The chūnin threw up his arms in a standard block to protect his torso as another punch came his way.

He found out that chakra-enhanced blows, no matter how lightly they were thrown, could hurt like _hell_.

He tried to counter again, attempting a quick chop to the neck, but the pain in his forearms disturbed his concentration. The old man crouched low, his leg snapping out, catching the ninja right in the stomach.

He flew, sprawling on the ground a few metres away with a painful grunt. The old man was in a crouching position, one leg bent at the knee, the other stretched wide. His grey eyes were cold as he focused on the stricken ninja.

"Get up," he growled. The anger was still present.

The ninja staggered upright, throwing a murderous glare at the old man, who hadn't moved, still waiting. "I'll kill you, old man," he spat out.

The old man grinned nastily. "Let's hope you can do it before those internal injuries kill you first, asshole."

The ninja grit his teeth as a jab of dull pain from his stomach reached him, feeling as if someone had torn out part of his intestines. His right hand went into the weapons pouch on his back, and he quickly shuffled his feet. The old man grinned wider and readied himself, one foot before the other; an arm behind his back at waist height, the other in front of him, the palms held open loosely.

"It'll be interesting to see how you fight me, considering the state you're in," he chuckled. "There's a first time for everything, even fighting at death's door."

The leaf-nin, in true shinobi fashion, moved his hand unexpectedly fast, a clutch of shuriken flying towards the geezer, carefully angled to hit his legs. However, the old man started running at the same time as the shuriken left the man's hand and before they could impact, he leapt high in the air, twisting in a somersault. The traveller could nearly make out the maker's inscription on one of the throwing stars as it flew past his upside-down head by an inch or two.

_What the_- were the last coherent thoughts of the leaf-nin as the old man axe-kicked him on the shoulder, breaking the collarbone and driving him to the ground. Before he could get another kunai to stab him, the geezer leant down, grabbed the injured shoulder and _squeezed_.

A long scream was heard as the man writhed in pain for a few seconds before he unceremonously passed out.

"Well," the old man grumbled as he stood up and patted his travelling robes, dusting them off. "That wasn't too difficult." He looked around him. He suddenly realized that about a hundred people, plus two dozen ninja, had witnessed an old man beating the crap out of three shinobi without even getting cut once, being barely out of breath.

And they were all staring at him with varying expressions of incredulity, suspicion, and wariness.

A drop of sweat ran down the traveller's temple as he tried to think of a passable excuse, finding none.

And then he spotted the white cloak and hat of the Hokage walking towards the edge of the crowd, his ANBU escort quickly pushing a way for him through the murmuring citizens.

_This is gonna suck_, he thought grimly.

...

The original manga series of _Naruto _was written and drawn by _Masashi Kishimoto_, originally published by _Shueisha_ in 1997, and is still ongoing at the time of writing (May 2012) after sixty published volumes and two different anime adaptations: one simply titled _Naruto_ by _Studio Perrot_ that premiered in October 2002 and ended in February 2007, and its sequel _Naruto: Shipuuden_ (Naruto: Hurricane Chronicles) by the same studio that premiered in February 2008 and is still ongoing at the time of writing. Various tie-in works like novels, video games, and a series of theatrical movies have been published to date.

Again, please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.


	4. Chapter IV – Bottled Reminescence

DO NOTE that this story IS NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of _fanfiction_ based on the original work and its associated franchise, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with the Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.

...

Good day or good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the fourth chapter of _Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox_. Thank you for your reviews and encouragement, and thank your for pointing out a few stupid goofs I made in my writing. Those of you who were wondering who the titular old man actually is, you will receive (part of) your answer in this chapter. The character will play a very part of the future story, so if you find him interesting, please keep reading. If not - well, I can't force you to read this story any further than this, can I? In the end, the decision is only yours to make.

Thanks to ExplodingKunai for pointing out a stupid mistake I made in Chapter One: it was the _Third_ Shinobi World War the Sandaime fought in, not the Fourth. Timeline-wise, this story begins before the Uchiha Massacre. Naruto is about four and a half years old in this one. Sorry for anyone who was confused; it was a really stupid mistake to make.

Please, enjoy yourself while reading this story, and if you liked or disliked it, be kind enough to leave a review. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

...

**Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox**

**Chapter IV - Bottled Reminescence**

...

The Hokage glared at the two people seated in front of his desk. One was a toddler, fidgeting nervously and looking at the hands in his lap. The other was guzzling from a sake bottle, unconcerned how rude that may appear.

On second thought, it was quite likely _intended_ to be rude.

Sarutobi continued to glare at the older man, who was still boozing unashamedly.

"Soooo..." the traveller drawled, "I heard you're Hokage again. Came as a bit of a surprise for me to see you waddling around in that outfit of yours, admittedly, but it suits you." He took another gulp. "Hides the bald head, I'm sure."

One of Sarutobi's eyebrows was twitching. For some reason, this old codger was one of the few people in the world that could genuinely annoy him. However, two could play at this game.

He leaned forward, smiling widely. "Really, Tabibito. It's been, what, seven years since the last time we met? I have to say, you have quite a few more wrinkles yourself than before."

The man grunted. "True, but admittedly, I wasn't chosen for high office, so I can get away with looking like an old dried vegetable in public. I wonder," he mused, stroking his chin in an exaggerated manner. "That wide cloak and the hat – they're probably there to hide the age of the person wearing it. Yeah, that makes perfect sense, considering that most Kage are old farts nowadays..."

Sarutobi's eyebrow continued twitching. The two ANBU hidden in the room tried hard not to snicker. Although they greatly respected their leader, it was nice to see that he could get annoyed like anyone else. It made him more human.

"Um, Grandpa," Naruto said quietly, still looking at his hands. The Hokage and the traveller turned to look at him, Sarutobi with kind concern, the traveller with hidden interest. "Are you angry with me?"

"Why would I be angry with you?" the Hokage said, smiling. "You've done nothing wrong, Naruto." He turned to the old man. "If there's anyone I'm angry with, it's you, Tabibito."

The man grinned back at him. "Well, it's nice that we're back on first-name terms, at least. Last time we met, you were so angry that you wanted to beat me up on sight."

The Hokage glared at him. "You put glue inside my hat just to make it permanently stick to my head."

Tabihito grinned. "Hilarious, don't you think?"

"God damn it, Tabibito!" the Hokage yelled, finally losing his cool. "It took me about a week to find a jutsu that would dissolve that glue without ripping out the last few hairs I had! That was one of the most horrible weeks I ever went through! It wasn't _hilarious_ at all!"

Tabibito shrugged, drinking from the bottle. "I thought it was funny. So did your students, I recall."

Naruto giggled despite himself. Tabibito thought he could hear someone unseen chortle in amusement. The Hokage seemed to remember that he wasn't exactly alone in the room and palmed his face in annoyance. "You are really the only person who can get a rise out of me." His hands returned to the desk, the Hokage looking at the traveller wearily. "Now please explain to me why you started a brawl in the middle of the street with three of my shinobi."

Tabibito shrugged, unconcerned. "They totally had it coming."

Sarutobi glared. "That's not really a good excuse."

"It isn't?" The traveller looked unrepentant, trying to look into his bottle. "Oh well, too bad."

"Grandpa, it was my fault!" Naruto said quickly. "It was because-"

"It _wasn't_ your fault, brat," the traveller growled, glaring at the small child. "They were being assholes, the lot of them. Like I said, _they had it coming_."

"Slow down, everyone," the Hokage said quickly. He then pointed at the child, smiling. "Naruto. Can you tell me what happened? Everything, please, from the very beginning."

"Okay!" The whiskered boy then launched into a long explanation that began with him running away from the orphanage, justifying it with it being "boring", then scampering around the city, avoiding the one or two ninja sent after him, and getting hungry after wandering around by himself for a few hours.

"And then I met Uncle!" Naruto said excitedly.

The traveller nearly spat out his saké. "Uncle?" he said incredulously, staring at Naruto, while the Hokage had to keep himself from grinning at the expression of dismay on his face.

The little boy nodded happily. "Yep! He was really nice to me and bought me ramen. But then I fell off my stool when I tried to lift up my ramen bowl, and then there were people all around me! But I wasn't scared at all!"

Tabibito shot a sideways glance at the Hokage before continuing to listen to the story. The village leader obviously didn't believe that last part, and seemed quietly angry.

"And then this ninja said some mean things about me, and Uncle started arguing with him, but I dunno why. Then two other ninja turned up. I didn't exactly catch what was going on," Naruto frowned, before his face brightened up again, "but then Uncle beat the two of them up, and I ran to Ichiraku's. And then we all watched Uncle beat up the last ninja! It was awesome!" He was now grinning from ear to ear, eagerly jumping up and down in his seat.

Sarutobi looked at the traveller with a deadpan expression. "So am I to understand that you knocked out three of my ninja for no particular reason at all?"

"Do I need a reason when they all acted like pricks?" Tabibito grinned. Gods, he was enjoying this way too much.

"Yes," Sarutobi snapped, before turning to Naruto with a kind grandfatherly smile. "Naruto, could you please go and wait outside for me? I just need to talk to Uncle here; it won't be long."

"Sure thing, Grandpa!" With a last grin to the two old men, the four-year old scampered out the door.

Sarutobi glared at the two ANBU in his room. "You. Out," he ordered, sounding quietly furious. Wisely, they didn't argue and disappeared in clouds of smoke.

When they were alone, the Hokage went through a quick series of hand seals. Tabibito could feel a small pulse of chakra settle to the corners of the room as the privacy seals were activated, and then the Hokage turned to him and sighed. "Alright, what _really_ happened?"

The traveller's slightly alcohol-reddened face faced him, frowning. "Do you really want to know? You won't like it, I'm telling you now."

"Yes." Sarutobi said, meeting the man's angry glare head on. Tabihito shrugged, and took another swig from the bottle.

"I met the brat at that stand and offered to buy him ramen so he'd stop bugging me. He was skinny as a bird too, so I thought it'd be good to get some grub in that stomach of his." The old man chuckled. "Never seen a kid put so much away at once, I have to say. He's got one hell of an appetite, that's for sure."

Sarutobi smiled fondly, remembering previous visits to Ichiraku's. "I know."

"Well, he fell from his stool by complete accident, and suddenly there was a bunch of people around him, all whispering things and calling him names," Tabibito continued. He caught the Hokage's hands tightening suddenly. "Boy was terrified. I wasn't going to stand for a bunch of people intimidating a kid, so I wanted to get him out of here, perhaps ask around to find that orphanage he ran from."

He gritted his teeth, trying hard not to snarl. "Out of nowhere, this absolute bastard that you refer to as 'your ninja' called the kid a _thing_, telling me not to touch him and get away. As if he wasn't even human. I started arguing with the prick, and then he tried to arrest me because of my attitude." He looked at Sarutobi with clear grey eyes. "Wasn't going to let the brat get all the attention, you know."

"Then what happened?" Sarutobi asked.

"Well, the guy got his teammates to try and get me into custody or something, which I'm sure he didn't have the authority for," the traveller continued until his face split into a grin, "and then I beat the shit out of all three of them. Haven't had so much fun in ages, I gotta say. You know the rest."

Sarutobi mulled it over. "So it was all in self-defence?"

"Depends on what you call self-defence, 'Grandpa'." Tabibito grinned. "Kind of funny that he calls you that."

"Why? I like it when he calls me that," Sarutobi said, frowning.

Suddenly, Tabibito slammed down the sake bottle with all force onto the Hokage's desk. "Then where the hell were you when he needed you, Hiruzen?" He looked at the old man, who avoided his furious glare, but otherwise didn't move. He decided to twist the knife a little. "You know, he was lying on the ground in a little heap, crying, whimpering for his 'Grandpa'. He was absolutely scared shitless, he wanted them to leave him alone, but you weren't there, and-'

"The boy is being watched by ANBU," Sarutobi retorted. "He would have been fine if anyone tried to actually hurt him."

"Oh, really?" Tabibito leaned back, crossing his arms, eyebrow raised questioningly. "And why would a little brat like him be watched by ANBU soldiers? Seems kind of excessive if you ask me."

"And I would say that's none of your business, Tabihito," the Hokage said sharply. "This is the business of the village, not that of a missing-nin."

The traveller snorted derisively. "I may be a missing-nin, but even I can tell that something is seriously messed up with this village if this is the way it treats its young ones, especially when said village proclaims itself to care about its citizens. What do you call it again? The 'Will of Fire'? Camaderie, friendship conquering all, all that lovey-dovey stuff?" He grinned, but again, there was no humour in it. "Well, the way that kid was crying, that wasn't the first time he was beaten or threatened, and apparently no one in the village did anything to stop it. Hypocritical shits, the lot of you are."

"Don't talk to me about hypocrisy, Desert Falcon," the Hokage retorted coolly. "I'm not the one who betrayed my village."

"You don't know me well enough to comment on _why_ I left Sunagakure, Hiruzen Sarutobi," Tabibito exclaimed sharply, voice rising. "My reasons were mine and mine alone. You have _no_ right to question my decisions and ideals."

"And you have no right to disparage me and my village just because of _one_ injustice you witnessed, which you have no knowledge about," the Hokage fired back, equally furious. "This is Konoha's business, not yours."

They stared at each other for a few moments, until Tabibito harrumphed and grabbed his bottle of alcohol from the desk. He threw it back with all his might, draining it in one go.

"Heh," the traveller grunted. "I admit, that does make sense. None of my business, no skin off my nose and all that. However, that doesn't change the fact that something is seriously wrong with that boy and the way your folks treat him." He squinted into his bottle. "D'you have another bottle of saké? I'm all out."

Sarutobi sighed and opened a drawer in his desk, taking out another bottle and two cups. "I always keep one somewhere for special occasions."

"Does meeting an old war buddy count as one?" the traveller asked hopefully.

"Depends on which side they fought on," Sarutobi said with a smile.

"Well, thank the heavens I was an ally, then." the traveller joked.

"You weren't exactly an ally, you know," the Hokage chortled. "I remember that I both fought with _and_ against you. You were quite a challenge, if I remember correctly."

"Good times."

"Agreed."

They toasted each other and drank their cups in silence, savouring the strong alcohol. Sarutobi realized that this was the first time in quite a while that he'd spent in the company of someone he considered a friend. The village council were advisors – nothing more, nothing less. He could ask for their advice on all matters regarding the village, but Koharu and Homura weren't really people you could tell your doubts and fears to without them doubting your abilities as a leader.

And Danzō? He wasn't someone you could trust, especially after all his efforts lobbying the village council to train Naruto to be a weapon, or otherwise use him as a bargaining chip for Konoha's foreign policy. And the civilians on the advisory council? The Hokage nearly shuddered. None of those ignorant gits had even the remotest clue what being a shinobi really meant or what the village really needed. They were only really interested in trade and money, not with the needs a military garrison required.

"You look troubled, Hiruzen." the traveller said, squinting at him. "Old age catching up to ya?"

"I wish it was that simple." the Hokage muttered bitterly. "Be glad that you were never offered the position of Kage; it's not an easy job."

"They considered it after the Third Kazekage copped it, but my alcoholism dented my reputation a bit." Tabibito snickered as he refilled his cup. "Not that I mind, I was always more of a free bird. I'd hate to be weighted down by all that paperwork." He leaned over the desk to refill Sarutobi's cup, raising his own mockingly in a toast. "Thank the spirits I never accepted the post – you look like you aged twice as fast since we last met! I like to keep my youthful teint."

Sarutobi grinned. "Youthful? Your view of beauty is really skewed, then. Probably the alcohol."

"Probably. You'd be surprised how much more beautiful women look when you're hammered."

"Still a sexist prick, I see."

"Still a prude."

For a moment, they drank again in silence.

"Tell me, Tabibito," the Hokage began carefully, "why did you leave Sunagakure? It seems odd that someone like you would leave the comfort of a hidden village."

The old man looked at him, looked at his cup, then returned his look to the serious Hokage, weighing his options. "Tell you what..." he said slowly. "You tell me what the deal is with that brat and why everyone seems to hate him, and I'll tell you why I left Suna. Fair enough?"

The Hokage thought about it. "Do you promise not to reveal any of what I am about to tell you to anyone? It's one of Konoha's great secrets."

"Unless you give me permission, I swear on my honour as an unrepentant alcoholic that I will not reveal this dark secret of Konoha to anyone," Tabbiito recited, sounding utterly bored. He looked at Sarutobi's expression of annoyance and shrugged. "What? I can't exactly swear on my honour as a shinobi, considering that most of us don't have any in the first place, and besides, I'm an exile from my own village – I don't have anything I could swear by anymore. I won't tell anyone anything, don't worry," he placated the skittish old man. "It's just a brat, what could be so important about him?"

"You'd be surprised," Sarutobi chuckled. "I'm just warning you that if anyone finds out you know about this, Koharu is going to pickle your nuts."

"That's awfully crass of you, Professor," the traveller moaned, shuddering at the image of the elderly ex-kunoichi chasing after him with a kunai and an expression of pure, furious determination on her face. "She did have a certain reputation... She wouldn't actually do it, right?" he asked, eyes widening in fear.

"She threatened to do it to someone in the Second Shinobi World War, I think," Sarutobi mused. "I don't know if she ever went through with that threat." He shivered. "And I really don't want to find out if she can still do it."

"You've convinced me," the traveller said, nodding fearfully. "I swear on the fact that I want to keep my nuts unpickled that I will not reveal any of this to anyone unless you allow me to." He paused and thought about what he had just said. "This is the most ridiculous oath I've ever heard, but damn it if it ain't sincere."

"I believe you," Sarutobi sighed. "Koharu is going to murder me for this..." he muttered absent-mindedly.

Sarutobi stood up and went to stand by the window, looking at the bustle of the village from the high vantage point that the Hokage Tower offered. He tried to think about how to tell his story believably, it being quite insane.

"Well?" the traveller grumbled. "I may be free of my duties as a shinobi and the whole crazy ninja shit, but if you don't get started, I might die of old age before you get round to telling that tale of yours." He grabbed the bottle, not bothering to pour the strong rice alcohol into his cup anymore, simply drinking straight from the bottle.

"You know what happened to the village four and a half years ago, right?"

Tabibito snorted. "Excuse me? Who doesn't? The attack of the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox, the Kitsune no Kyūbi himself. That's the stuff of nightmares right there. Rumours flew all over the Elemental Countries when it happened; saying that the world was going to end or that war was going to break out. Of course I know about it." He gulped down a decent measure of the sake, staring blankly at the bottle. "Some of those militant bastards in Suna wanted to take advantage of Konoha's weakness, but most were against it, saying we were too weak or that it would spark a new world war. Nobody wanted that right after the Third Shinobi World War had ended."

"Well, the attack came on October the tenth," the Hokage continued. "That's also Naruto's birthday."

"Poor kid," the traveller muttered, setting the bottle to his lips again. "It's gotta suck that your birthday is eternally connected to something horrible like that. Why, I remember this one poor bastard chūnin I once worked with..."

"The Kyūbi wasn't killed by the Fourth, like all the rumours say, but was sealed by him into Naruto, who was the only available container."

The Hokage turned around as he heard his guest choke. "Tabibito?" he asked, slightly worried.

The man was bent over in his seat, coughing and hacking, tears streaming out of his eyes, his free hand hitting his chest repeatedly as he tried to get rid of the liquid that had gotten into his lungs.

After a while, the geezer looked up at him, wiping away the teardrops from his face with his sleeve. He studied the Hokage's serious expression. "By all that is holy, you're not kidding." He shook his head, his face suddenly very pale. "You have a jinchūriki containing the most powerful tailed beast in this village, and you let him run around freely like this, where he could be picked off by any random assassin or where he could be kidnapped in broad daylight?" His voice rose in anger. "Come on, Hiruzen, for the 'Professor', the 'God of Shinobi', that's almost stupidly careless!"

"Like I said, Tabibito, the boy is being continuously watched by ANBU," the Hokage explained before the old man could start his rant in earnest. "They already foiled several attacks that aimed at killing or kidnapping Naruto, some of them by distraught villagers, others by shinobi determined to kill the 'demon' in him." He looked solemn. "They were mostly grief-stricken people mourning the loss of their precious ones. We lost far too many people when the fox came. They're usually easily dealt with – a few disobedient ninja are no match for the ANBU corps – but it's difficult to hide it all from Naruto."

"No kidding," the traveller muttered, his hand clenching around the bottle. "Now I understand why everyone seemed to hate him, and why they were talking behind his back, calling him a demon and whatnot. Kami, it makes sense, as crazy as it sounds." He looked up sharply. "The villagers know?"

"Yes. It was the last will of the Fourth that Naruto be considered a hero for being the jailor of the demon fox."

"Well, as I saw today, that plan worked out perfectly," the traveller said shakily, grinning in a slightly maniacal way as he filled up his cup again. "Poor kid's going to have some major issues when he grows up, I'm telling you now."

"You can't force people to respect him."

"Hell no you can't, but you could have pretended that the Kyūbi was dead, or take the brat away to train him somewhere so that he doesn't have to take the crap people give him here; you could have done _something_ instead of keeping him here where every jackass can piss on him as he walks by." He shook his head, looking at the desk in front of him as the Hokage sat down wearily. "Why didn't you adopt him? Wouldn't it have been easier for you to protect him? Or you could have given him to one of the clans, or-'

"These are all good ideas in theory," the Hokage interrupted gloomily, chewing on his pipe. "However, I can't officially adopt the boy. It would just be too dangerous for him – the war didn't end too long ago, and if he was connected to me, it wouldn't take long for someone from Iwagakure to find out whose child he is. And the clans?" Sarutobi smiled sadly, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "The major clans have all refused to accept him into their ranks because he doesn't have their kekkai genkai. The Uchiha aren't exactly sympathetic to the village, and the Hyūga refused to accept him as he couldn't possibly learn their traditional taijutsu style without the Byakugan. One of their elders, I think Hiashi, thought about accepting him as a member of their branch family – he was friends with the Fourth, after all – but they were overruled by the other elders and the clan head. The minor clans unanomously rejected the idea. Most of them said that they wouldn't be able to protect him adequately."

"Bad excuse if I ever heard one."

Sarutobi slumped slightly. "In any case, living in a clan isn't something that would help Naruto. The minor clan leaders are sympathetic to the boy's plight, considering that he has no parents and the torment he's enduring, but they're all _scared_, Tabibito. Scared what the boy might become, scared what he could possibly do to the village, scared how the villagers would see them if they were seen to publicly help the container of the demon fox. And I don't think Naruto could handle living with the strict rules and rituals of a clan – he's too free and wild for that."

"Free and wild? How did you figure that? He seems like a sweet kid," Tabibito interjected with a grimace. "Admittedly, he's a bit annoying, but no more than other brats his age."

"You should spend some more time with Naruto, you know," Sarutobi suggested wryly. "He always tries to run away from the orphanage I put him in and he loves playing pranks on people. It's surprising that he can get away with it, considering that he's only four and a half years old, but he's a crafty one."

"Pretty fast too," the traveller muttered. "I've never seen a kid run as fast as him. Well," he shrugged noncommittally, "I don't hang around kids much, so I can't really tell."

"Tabibito," the Hokage asked suspiciously, "how long are you planning on staying in Konoha?"

"Weeeell," the old traveller drawled out the word while scratching his stubbly chin, "I don't really know, Saru. Originally, I planned on passing through here so I could ditch the punks that the Yondaime Kazekage sent after me..."

"Wait a minute," the Hokage said, alarmed. "You're being hunted by Sunagakure?"

"Um, yes?" the traveller replied, trying to look innocent. "Nothing I can't handle by myself, but I just wanted some peace of mind for a while..."

"Tabibito," the Hokage groaned, palming his face in exasperation. "What in the name of the nine bijū did you _do_?"

"Nothing that you should be concerned about, Saru!" the old man laughed, standing up. He grinned at the surprised Hokage. "Thanks for telling me about the brat, old man. I know I promised that I'd tell you what got me exiled from Suna, but we've been talking for nearly half an hour now, and the brat's been waiting outside the whole time. I don't know much about kids," his grin got wider, "but I'm pretty sure that he's bored out of his mind and bouncing off the walls, so I'll go keep him some company. I'll come back tomorrow, okay?" With this, the elderly man turned to the door to leave, whistling a tune under his breath.

"Hold on, Desert Falcon," Sarutobi commanded. The traveller stopped and turned to look over his shoulder. That hadn't been the voice his old war buddy used. That had been the voice of the Sandaime Hokage, the man feared as the 'God of Shinobi' on the battlefield: quiet, commanding, strong, and deserving every ounce of attention and respect given to him, sharp black eyes boring into the traveller's own grey ones, pinning him in place. "What do you plan on doing with Naruto?"

The traveller sighed, and looked out the window with a slightly tired look on his face. For a moment, he looked every years of his old age. "I'm just going to spend some time with him, Hiruzen. Don't worry; I'll keep an eye out for him."

"You didn't answer my question, Tabibito," the Hokage growled, killing intent blazing from his seated figure as if a dam had broken. "_What do you plan on doing with Naruto?_"

The traveller glanced at him, before looking out the window thoughtfully. "You really care about the boy, don't you?"

The Hokage glared daggers at him. "I do. He's the last thing left of his father and mother. And he's a good child."

The traveller chuckled ruefully. "I should have known that you'd still be the same emotional man you always were, Hiruzen. Thank the gods you haven't changed." He turned completely to the Hokage, smiling now. "You care about him because he's an innocent child, not because he's the container of the demon fox." His smile widened further, eyes dancing with happy mischief. "Some shinobi would call Konoha weak because you emphasize friendship and teamwork. If you ask me, that's what made this village so damn powerful in the first place."

Tabibito picked up his lute leaning next to the door. "Like I said, Hiruzen, don't worry. I'm just going to take a look around the village. The brat can tag along if he wants to. If you're so worried, you can have your ANBU follow me around while I'm here. But I won't harm him."

He opened the door, grinning at the doubting Hokage over his shoulder as he shouldered his lute. "I'll come back tomorrow at around the same time, yeah? Keep some space in your busy schedule for me."

"You know I hate paperwork," Sarutobi grumbled. He looked up, and his hard expression softened. "I'll be keeping you to your word about watching out for Naruto."

"Like I said, don't worry, Hokage-sama," the man replied, still grinning. He walked out of the office, and Sarutobi could hear the sounds of rapid little footsteps approaching.

"Hey Uncle!" the cheerful voice of Naruto could be heard, the wide grin nearly audible. "Are you done with Grandpa yet?"

"Yeah, I'm done," the traveller grumbled, sounding grouchy. "And tell you what, I'm really bored. You can't joke around with your Grandpa, he's always so bloody serious."

"That's 'cause he's the Hokage, Uncle!"

"I know, I know," the traveller replied, and Hiruzen could hear their voices quieten down as they moved down the stairs. "Tell you what; I'm new to the village. How about you show me around?"

"Sure thing, Uncle!" the cheerful child replied. "There's tons of stuff to see, like the market, the shops, the Academy, th..."

The Hokage couldn't help but smile as he heard the two walk down the steps, their voices drifting away. He'd nearly forgotten how irresponsibly Tabibito Ryokousha, the Falcon of Sunagakure, could behave sometimes. And he cared about children, even if he didn't really know how to act around them. Naruto was in good hands.

The Hokage stifled a groan as he saw his secretary enter with a new pile of documents to be read and signed. As she set them down on his desk with a reproachful look (the Hokage's lack of diligence when it came to paperwork was legendary), he suddenly realized that Tabibito had not called him 'Saru' or 'Hiruzen' as he left, nor the plethora of insulting nicknames that he'd invented for him during the war ("mushroom head" had been a favourite, named after his hat).

No, he'd called him by his _title_. Hokage-sama.

This realization left the Hokage stunned and gaping open-mouthed at the door long after his secretary had left, paperwork all but forgotten.

...

The original manga series of _Naruto _was written and drawn by _Masashi Kishimoto_, originally published by _Shueisha_ in 1997, and is still ongoing at the time of writing (May 2012) after sixty published volumes and two different anime adaptations: one simply titled _Naruto_ by _Studio Perrot_ that premiered in October 2002 and ended in February 2007, and its sequel _Naruto: Shipuuden_ (Naruto: Hurricane Chronicles) by the same studio that premiered in February 2008 and is still ongoing at the time of writing. Various tie-in works like novels, video games, and a series of theatrical movies have been published to date.

Again, please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.


	5. Chapter V – See The Sights

DO NOTE that this story IS NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of _fanfiction_ based on the original work and its associated franchise, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with the Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.

...

Good day or good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Chapter Five of _Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox_. I corrected a few typos and canon goofs I made in previous chapters, as pointed out to me by a helpful reviewer. Thank you for that. Nothing much to say - a simple day in the life of the titular old man and the little trickster fox.

Unfortunately, you will have to contend with updates to come out at a slightly slower speed than before - I have exams soon, and preparations for them take a good chunk of my available free time. I think the next chapter will come out this weekend. Stay tuned!

Please, enjoy yourself while reading this story, and if you liked or disliked it, be kind enough to leave a review. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

...

**Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox**

**Chapter V - See The Sights**

...

"All right, brat," the old man said as they stepped out of the Hokage Tower into the busy streets, "I'm in your hands. You'll show me that pretty village of yours, won't ya?"

"I told you I'd show you the village, Uncle! When I say I'm going to do something, I'll do it!" The little boy jumped up and down, giving him a toothy grin and a thumbs-up.

The old man grinned back. That cheerfulness really was infectious. He started to understand why Sarutobi told him to spend time with the boy.

"Lead the way then, brat."

"All right! Follow me!" the whisker-cheeked boy called out and started running ahead excitedly, grinning from ear to ear.

Tabibito had to admit that Konoha was impressive – for one thing, it was _huge_, easily the largest shinobi village he had ever seen. He had no idea how many ninja lived in the village, but if he had to guess, he would estimate that at least a few thousand ninja and retired ninja lived in Konoha, perhaps even numbering in the tens of thousand. It was impossible to tell.

He drank from his bottle again, looking at the sights around him. The weather was warm and humid too – the climate was temperate enough for many crops to be grown in the surrounding countryside. Rice in the southern provinces, wheat and barley further north. No wonder that the Land of Fire was so powerful on the political scene. The weather wasn't as searing as the punishing sun in the desert in the Land of Wind, but still...

He had the feeling that Naruto had decided to show him the whole bloody village because he couldn't decide what the most interesting thing was.

He showed him the food market, the ridiculously large hospital (Naruto proudly told him that the Konoha medic-nin were famous for being some of the best in the world, something that Teuchi had once told him about), the Academy, where the youngest shinobi were trained (Naruto loudly proclaimed that he would learn to be a ninja here, which drew some very odd looks from some passerby), he showed him the apparently renowned flower shop of the Yamanaka clan (not having any interest in floristry beyond its applications in healing and poisons, the old man found this rather uninteresting, but they both agreed that the flowers were pretty), the different clan compounds (Tabibito remarked that the door guards at the Uchiha and Hyuuga estates looked angry all the time, which Naruto agreed to, saying that their eyes were "pretty scary"), and market district, which was overcrowded with merchants trying to make money and villagers looking for a good deal when shopping for food, clothes, and other odd things and ends. Naruto led him all over town at a rather incredible pace for a small four-year old, grinning and chatting all the while.

The traveller didn't miss the looks the villagers gave Naruto when he passed – a mixture of revulsion, fear, and hate. At best, they were nervous, at worst, they seemed to restrain themselves from attacking him. Naruto seemed to ignore them for most of the time, that grin of his growing wider whenever he felt that their eyes were on him.

The old man also didn't miss their ANBU escort following them, unseen when they stalked the rooftops or when they transformed into various civilians as they quickly walked through the busy crowds, scanning the environment for threats to their principal. Tabibito would have been impressed, if it wasn't for the fact that their definition of a "threat" seemed to be something life-threatening. A simple beating apparently didn't fit the bill.

He frowned, but then caught the blue eyes of his tour guide looking at him with worry in them. He grinned at him and the boy grinned back, seemingly relieved.

At the end of the day, when the sun began to set, they climbed on top of the Hokage Monument, Naruto saying that this was his "favourite place". The setting sun was shining as it rose down to meet the horizon, colouring the clouds a dark orange, and a cool wind was blowing, taking away the heat of the day.

It was beautiful.

Naruto sat down on the stony head of the Fourth Hokage, from which one could look out at the whole village. He patted the rocky surface next to him, grinning at the surprised expression the old man made. "Sit down, Uncle! I told I'd show ya the whole village, and this is the greatest place of them all!"

"I'll drink to that, brat," the old man agreed heartily, sitting down next to the boy with a pleased huff. After walking the whole day with his travelling cloak and equipment, it was a relief.

He uncorked his saké bottle, and noticed with surprise that it was empty, his expression turning to dismay.

"Uncle? What's wrong?" the boy said with worry, staring at him with apprehension.

The traveller made a great show of squinting into his bottle, and gave an exaggerated sigh when he showed Naruto that it was empty. "Well," he grumbled, "and I'm nearly out of cash too. I'll have to find a gig somewhere."

"You'll have to find a what, Uncle?" the boy asked.

"A gig, you know." He took his lute from his shoulder, setting it across his lap and plucking at the strings, tuning it. The greater humidity had affected the sound a bit, but not by much. "When I travel, and I stop somewhere in a village or a town, there are people that will give me food and a place to stay if I play some music for them, and that's what we musicians call a 'gig'."

He considered the boy for a moment, who was studying the old instrument with fascination. "Hey brat, why do you call me 'Uncle'? You don't know me that well to call me that already, do ya? And it's not as if we're related."

"Hehe..." the boy laughed sheepishly, rubbing his neck with one hand and his trademark large grin on his face. "Well, you bought me ramen, you protected me from those ninja, and you seemed to be a good friend of Grandpa's! So I thought it'd be okay to call you Uncle!"

"You think I'm a good friend of the Hokage?" the old man asked dubiously. "If he was looking for a word to describe me, it wouldn't be 'friend', but something like 'troublesome asshole'."

Naruto giggled at the image of the venerable Hokage swearing. Up here in the evening wind, he looked far happier than when they walked through town.

"You really seem to like it up here," the traveller commented as he plucked a few strings, watching the city from high above. The merchants were beginning to close shop, and people were returning to their homes. It seemed peaceful from up here.

"Yeah, well," Naruto began, "when I'm up here, it's more difficult for them to find me."

"Who's _them_?"

"The people. You know, the ones who are mean to me, like the ones you beat the snot out of. There are many like them in the village. They look at me, call me names, and the children never play with me. Some of them beat me up." He suddenly jumped up with a determined expression on his face, shouting. "That's why I'm gonna learn how to be a ninja and become Hokage after Grandpa! Then everybody here will _have_ to respect me!"

After recovering from his near heart attack when he thought the kid was going to jump off the monument, the old traveller couldn't help but feel amused at the determined expression on the little boy's face. It was nice to see that he still had a dream to cling to, screaming his defiance to the winds.

"So you want to be the Hokage," he muttered, still watching the city. "You want to be Hokage so that the people here respect you?"

"Yep!" Naruto said, grinning. "That's it!"

"What if they still don't respect you after you become Hokage?"

"If I become Hokage, they'll _have_ to respect me! The Hokage is the one protecting the village!" Naruto explained loudly, as if he was explaining things to a child.

"Do you _want_ to protect them, Naruto?"

The whiskered boy blinked, confused. "What?"

"Do you think they _deserve_ being protected by you?" the old man elaborated, looking serious. "I mean, most of the people I've seen around here don't exactly deserve to be protected by anyone. They hurt you, they don't seem to care about you, they want to cause you pain. And you're nothing but a kid! Is it worth protecting them? Do you think that their respect is worth all the trouble to become Hokage?"

Naruto hesitated, unsure. "I dunno," he muttered.

"Let's put it another way," the old man grumbled, shifting on the hard rock. "Who do you think deserves your respect? Who do you think deserves being protected by you?"

The little boy sat down again, arms crossed, his forehead scrunched up in a frown as he considered what his Uncle was telling him. "Teuchi-san and Ayame-san are nice to me. Grandpa too." He grinned at the traveller. "And you're nice to me as well. I'd protect you all!"

The traveller snorted derisively. "You, protect me? Listen, brat, the day I need your protection is the day that I'm old and decrepit and deserve to meet my maker." He paused, grinning cheekily. "Besides, I'm far stronger than you."

"I'll prove it to you! I'll become even stronger than you so I can protect you!" the child yelled, irritated at being doubted.

"Is that a promise?" Tabibito stared at Naruto, eyes serious. "Remember, you'll have to keep that promise, even if it is the most difficult thing in the world. Even if the whole world and everyone in it is against you. That's not an easy promise to make."

The little boy glared at him. "I always keep my promises, whatever it takes. That's my nindo! I'll become stronger than you, and then I'll protect you! You hear that, old man?"

"You're on, then!" the old man exclaimed, spitting into his hand and holding it out to Naruto. The boy immediately understood, spat in his own hand, and shook the old man's larger hand with as much strength and seriousness as he could muster. The old man grinned widely. "From now on, you're my apprentice!"

"What?" Naruto asked, his eyes popping out if his head.

"You wanted to become stronger, right, brat?" The old man cackled. "Well, I'm going to teach you everything I know and some more so you can be stronger than me. Your Grandpa won't even know what hit him when you show off everything that you've learned! If you work hard, and if you're clever, then you're going to be one of the greatest ninja in the world. That's _my_ promise to you!"

"You're a ninja?" Naruto asked. His grin, if that was even possible, had gotten even wider.

"Sure am!" the traveller grinned, jumping up as well, striking a grandiose pose. "When I was younger, I was known as the Great Peregrine Falcon of Sunagakure! Tabibito Ryokousha, that's me!"

"You're the Great what?" Naruto asked, sounding horribly confused.

Tabibito was still locked in his pose, but it was ruined by his deadpan expression directed at Naruto. "A peregrine falcon. It's a bird, you know, with wings that flap around." He demonstrated with his arms. "...It's famous for travelling a lot."

An awkward pause ensured as Naruto stared at him blankly. "You know," Tabibito sighed, sitting back down in a huff, "introducing yourself is an opportunity you only have _once_ per person, so you should never waste it. I hate it when a grand introduction is wasted. I always feel cheated when I mess it up."

"I really don't understand..." the boy muttered.

"Don't worry; I'm sure you'll get it soon once you become famous."

They sat for a while, watching the sun set. It got dark, lights turning on all over the city.

"You hungry?" the old man asked.

Naruto's stomach grumbled in response.

"Ramen it is, then."

...

"You know, I'm still impressed by how much food this kid can put away," Tabibito commented, checking his wallet grumpily. It was noticeably emptier than before. He looked up to see Teuchi smiling. "You're enjoying this," he accused him.

"Of course, the money is wandering from _your_ wallet into _my_ savings account," the man replied, still smiling. "And why shouldn't I enjoy a sight like that one?"

Said sight was a sleeping Naruto, sprawled out over the countertop next to a few stacked bowls of ramen, sleeping... well, like a small toddler, really. Eyes closed, snoring quietly, and drooling. It was, to put it simply, _cute_. Even the grumpy old traveller had to admit it warmed the heart.

They were seated at Ichiraku's, the last customers of the evening, waiting quietly. For what, they didn't know or care. The old man could understand why Naruto liked this place. It was warm, light, and sitting here on a stool at the bar, you didn't feel cold or alone in the darkness.

That didn't change the fact that he was nearly out of money. Problems, problems...

Suddenly, he heard someone land in front of the ramen stand, touching down with a groan. The flap was thrown back, revealing a teenage genin wearing simple trousers and a green shirt, a weapons pouch attached to his thigh and his brown hair tied back in a topknot. What really got attention though was the long scar that ran across the bridge of his nose, emphasizing the sharp eyes above it.

When he spotted Naruto, the young ninja breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank the gods, I finally found him..." He turned to the stand owner, smiling kindly. "Hey, Teuchi-san. Hope that Naruto didn't eat you of your house."

"Don't worry, he found a friend that paid for him." The man laughed quietly. Waking up Naruto was a definite no-no.

"Really?" the genin said, turning to Tabibito. He bowed quickly. "I'm terribly sorry for any inconvenience caused by my charge, sir."

"Don't sweat it, youngster; I enjoyed my time with the brat," the traveller replied, waving the matter off. "Who're you, anyways?" he enquired curiously.

"Sorry about that," the teenager grinned. "I'm Iruka Umino, and I'm one of the genin in charge of helping at the orphanage and nursery. Our resident prankster here," he pointed at Naruto with a fond smile, "managed to sneak away, and I just spent the whole day looking for him to get him back."

"Well, you finally found him," the old man chuckled. "Interesting kid, I have to say. I'm the reason you couldn't find him, by the way – I'm new here, and he decided to show me around town."

"He wasn't a bother, I hop-'

"Kid, I haven't had so much fun in ages, and the village is beautiful as well," Tabibito interrupted. "I'm surprised how he's treated by the villagers though, seems kinda odd for a peaceful town like that..." He saw Iruka flinch guiltily out of the corner of his eyes.

Apparently, there were _some_ people here that cared for the brat. Good.

"There are many wounds that haven't healed yet in this village, Mister..." Iruka hesitated.

"Just call me Uncle; Naruto does." The old man smirked, raising his saké cup in a mock greeting.

"He does?" Iruka smiled, instantly at ease. "He trusted you pretty quickly then. Most people don't try to get too close to him." He lifted up Naruto carefully and gently put him over his shoulder, taking care not to wake him. He then tried to bow again, but was limited by the weight of the child now drooling on his shoulder. He smiled apologetically. "Perhaps I can repay you for your losses, Uncle?"

"Actually, can you do me a favour instead?" the old man asked. "Can you bring the brat to the Hokage at eleven o'clock tomorrow? I plan on talking about him to the Hokage."

At this, Iruka's eyes narrowed, giving him a far more dangerous appearance. "What do you plan on doing with Naruto?"

"What do you care?" the old man said bluntly.

"He's my charge, and I _will_ protect him, whatever happens."

The traveller grinned and patted the genin's free shoulder lightly. "Good answer." He pointed at the boy, who was mumbling in his sleep. "Get the brat to bed, he needs it. And if everything goes as I think it will, you'll know about my plans for Naruto tomorrow. S'that alright with you, youngster?" he enquired, smiling amiably.

The young ninja mulled it over, his eyes fixed in a calculating look. "It'll do. For now."

"Remember, eleven o'clock at the Hokage's tower."

"We'll be there." Iruka turned to Teuchi, smiling again. "Thanks for taking care of him again, Teuchi-san. Say goodnight to Ayame from me, will you?"

"She's already asleep, poor soul," the stand owner chuckled. "It's her first day helping out in the shop, and she's already exhausted. I'll have to go easy on her."

"Once she takes over the shop, the brat will probably ask her to marry him," Tabibito joked, earning wry grins from the two others. He waved at Iruka. "See you around, kid."

"Likewise, Uncle," the teenage shinobi answered with a smile as he stepped out and leapt away carrying Naruto, leaving Teuchi and Tabibito alone with their own thoughts.

"Well, I'm closing shop, sir," the stand owner said suddenly. "You have somewhere to stay? I know you're low on cash, but I can recommend a few cheap places if you want my advice."

"Thanks for the offer," the traveller said gratefully. "Actually, can you just give me pointers to an inn that doubles as a restaurant or a bar? I'm sure I can negotiate with the owner – food and lodging against music in the evening." He tapped the lute over his back. "Sweet deal if you ask me."

"And if that doesn't work?"

A shrug. "Then I'll just camp out at one of the training grounds. Shouldn't be too hard to get in."

"Well, if you plan on annoying the military police, sure..."

After getting his directions (the old man grumbled about the dark streets being far too difficult to navigate around at night, especially without a guide), the traveller bid the ramen maker good night and walked away, hearing Teuchi clean his cooking implements while humming a happy tune.

Konoha at night was different from the city during the day. Obviously, it was darker, but the dull colour given off by the coloured paper lanterns gave some streets an eerie, multicoloured glow, while others were completely shrouded in darkness and shadow. The clouds had thickened in the sky, hiding the moon.

Tabibito rounded a corner, continuing on his way through a narrow street, wooden buildings framing him. Doors were locked and shutters closed, the villagers fast asleep. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. It was completely empty, the darkness complete. No sound came from it.

To anyone but the traveller, who had learned how to read the changes in the wind and to feel the minuscule movements in the texture of the air, this would have given the impression of a deserted street. However, to him, the whole environment felt wrong, hostile in some way.

When he heard a nearly inaudible swish in the air and ducked just in time to avoid being decapitated, he knew exactly _what_ felt wrong.

He kicked backwards, hearing an 'oof' that confirmed he had hit something and jumped forward to stand on his hands, legs twirling rapidly in a few wide circles. The reinforced hiking boots smashed against something and suddenly the pressure he felt let up.

He quickly jumped up onto his feet, landing in a stance. At that exact same moment, the moonlight returned.

He was standing in the middle of the narrow side street, surrounded by what seemed to be four assailants wearing short black jackets with red shoulder straps over each individual attire. One had stopped at each end of the road, and there was one on each side of the traveller on the roofs, surrounding him. All of them wore blank white ANBU masks, and they were all watching him.

One of them was just getting up from the ground (apparently the one unfortunate enough to be kicked in the stomach) while the others had leapt just out of reach to avoid getting hit by the flailing limbs of the older traveller, waiting. The traveller couldn't exactly tell with their masks, but he thought they were surprised, if only a little.

"If you want to mug me, my wallet's nearly dried up," the traveller growled.

The men didn't react, refusing to move out of their stances. He could now see that they had all drawn a tantō, short double-edged swords, interestingly enough with no tip; a pure slashing weapon that, in the right hands, could leave one's opponent in a pool of his own blood surrounded by his cut-off limbs. The traveller's eyes jumped from each man to the next. Not good. If they all attacked at once, they could dice him up easily.

"I do hope that you're going to give me the 'your money or your life' speech," he said, joking slightly to relieve the atmosphere – if only for his own benefit, "but I can see you're not after my cash."

"Correct," the man to his right spoke, blocking one end of the street, his voice sounding hollow and muffled. "You have been deemed a threat to the village, and orders have been handed down for your removal."

"Me? An old man, a threat to the most powerful village in the elemental countries?" the man laughed, relaxing slightly as he played the 'old-man' card and tried to smile disarmingly. "Come off it, you can't believe that I'm-"

"Tabibito Ryokousha, sixty-two years old, former elite jōnin of Sunagakure, now a missing-nin, classified as lower S-class or high AAA-class in the bingo book," the man to the traveller's left intoned. Tabibito's head snapped to face him, his eyes narrowing. "Also known as the Great Peregrine Falcon of Sunagakure; one of the most powerful shinobi to have fought for the Land of Wind during the Third Shinobi World War. Known to excel in all fields of ninja skills, with great emphasis on fūinjutsu, the art of sealing, and elemental manipulation. All other skills are noted to stand at an exceptional level bordering on mastery." The masked ninja hadn't moved at all. He was probably reciting the thing from memory. "Solitary nature; often travels alone across the elemental countries, refusing to accept authority. If encountered, to be eliminated."

"I see..." the traveller said slowly. "You have an impressive information network, ANBU-san." He shuffled his feet, turning slightly to address him. "Can I ask why I am being targeted for assassination, then?"

"Your interest in Naruto Uzumaki is unwanted," the masked ninja on the roof behind Tabibito replied softly. A woman? Hard to tell. "You present a great potential danger to the village."

"So, only because I _might_ be a danger to Konoha, I'm to be killed?" the old man asked, frowning. "I could also be an asset to this village, you know. Everything's possible."

"Unlikely," the man who had spoken first replied. "You are a rogue entity. Unpredictable. Too dangerous to leave alone. " He had now fully unsheathed his weapon and had assumed a stance, holding it in one hand to his side. The sharp blade glinted in the moonlight.

"Can we talk about this, or are you that brainwashed not to listen to me?" the man growled threateningly. "I know the Hokage didn't order you to do this, ANBU-san! He'd never have someone killed just for being a possible threat to the village. He's diligent in his duties to protect the village, but he's _not_ cruel."

"Your opinion on the decision of your assassination is irrelevant," the last masked man replied indifferently.

"Gee, d'you think so?" the traveller replied sarcastically. "I'm sure I would have said something if I could decide to be murdered or not." He broke out some of his killing intent, glaring at his would-be assailant. "I'm telling you only once, ANBU-san. _Back off_. If you do, you all go home to your families. If you don't, someone _will_ die."

No one moved. The shinobi hadn't even flinched. Normally, the intensity of the traveller's killing intent could easily scare off even moderately skilled shinobi, but his assailants were prepared. Their body language betrayed no hesitation or doubt.

The traveller took his stance. A moment later, the masked ninja launched themselves at him.

In a way, Tabibito was lucky that he was attacked by several people. They were fighting in an enclosed environment, a narrow street with buildings on either side. This put his assailants at a distinct disadvantage: their weapons were meant for slashing and cutting, which required rather wide movements. This meant that only two of the ANBU could attack him at once without hurting their comrades.

However, just because he had an advantage didn't mean that the fight was _easy_.

The first man leapt at him with incredible speed, his tantō close to the ground, intending to slash in an upwards swing to hit the old man's wrist, possibly opening the large blood vessels located there and leave him to bleed to death. Before he could lift his blade, the traveller had launched himself at him in a deep-rooted stance, the triangle of his right shoulder slamming into the man's torso. At the fast speeds they were both moving at, this had the effect of a hammer being smashed through the ANBU's ribcage, shattering a few ribs, one of them perhaps even puncturing a lung.

The traveller wasted no time in grabbing the disoriented man's wrist holding the short sword with his left hand and the man's mantle in his right, throwing him over his shoulder with a grunt at the ANBU that had tried to attack him from the other side. The injured man impacted with his comrade with a muffled thud, limiting the other attacker's movements.

This took no less than a few seconds, but the two other assailants used their window of opportunity to jump from the roofs lining the street to corner the old man, slashing in coordinated attacks that suggested years of conditioning and training.

The old man realized that his attackers had one advantage over him: size and age. They were taller and younger than him, giving them a longer reach to attack – a reach that was only increased by their weapons, while he was unarmed. This meant that they could attack him indiscriminately while keeping enough distance to avoid any counters he might attempt. He gritted his teeth as he sidestepped a slash that nearly lopped his arm off. Being boxed in by one of the most basic principles of taijutsu and kenjutsu was humiliating.

He suddenly dropped low, landing with his hands behind his back, and twisted his legs up to twirl them in a few wide arcs. It was one of the many things he had picked up during his travels. This particular style was something he had seen a group of youth in a large city in Lightning Country do: break dancing. Some aspects of it were already used in some taijutsu styles, but only rudimentarily, and the old man nagged the youths for so long (and underwent a few rather stupid 'initiation tests' and dares) until they agreed to teach him. Apparently he was very good at it. They called him "Father Time" after a while, considering that he was the coolest "old guy" they'd ever seen. They never did get him to rap, though.

The legs on the human body have a far longer reach than the arms, and they also have far greater strength. The old man couldn't help but grin as his heavy hiking boots hit one of his assailants' wrists, breaking it. The man hissed (more in surprise than in pain), dropping the weapon from his now-useless hand. The other ANBU (the woman, he thought) was simply booted in the head, sending her flying down the street.

He leapt upright, hands stiffening a bit from the strain he had put on them. He immediately returned to his stance, warily observing his attackers.

On one end of the street, one of the masked men was writhing in pain, breathing with difficulty. The one whose ribcage he had smashed. He was out of the fight.

Another one was standing next to his injured partner, blade at the ready, watching him warily. Still a threat.

The one closest to him leapt away slightly, nursing his broken wrist. Injured, but still dangerous.

On the other side of the street, the female ANBU got up from the kick she had received, holding her neck. Perhaps she'd carried some protection around it. He could see that her mask was cracked. Still a threat.

The traveller grinned as they returned to their stances, waiting warily until they leapt at him in a sudden, explosive movement.

One down, three to go.

...

The original manga series of _Naruto _was written and drawn by _Masashi Kishimoto_, originally published by _Shueisha_ in 1997, and is still ongoing at the time of writing (May 2012) after sixty published volumes and two different anime adaptations: one simply titled _Naruto_ by _Studio Perrot_ that premiered in October 2002 and ended in February 2007, and its sequel _Naruto: Shipuuden_ (Naruto: Hurricane Chronicles) by the same studio that premiered in February 2008 and is still ongoing at the time of writing. Various tie-in works like novels, video games, and a series of theatrical movies have been published to date.

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	6. Chapter VI – A Change Of Arrangements

DO NOTE that this story IS NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of _fanfiction_ based on the original work and its associated franchise, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with the Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.

...

Good day or good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Chapter Six of _Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox_. Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. It's a bit longer than usual, actually. A fight scene, foreshadowing, and important plot development. Please leave me your comments and feedback. I can't really change something that you think I'm doing wrong without your critiques, can I? I would very much appreciate to know what you, the readers, think of this story. Again, all opinions appreciated!

A small announcement. I am preparing for exams, so expect my update schedule to become slower. I might even stop writing altogether until those exams are other (in a month or so), but I'll tell you if that's the case. I sincerely apologize, but I cannot deny my responsibilities in the real world, as boring as they may occasionally be. Again, sorry, and I hope that this chapter (sort of) makes up for it.

In case you are bored waiting for the next chapter, take a look at my other story, called _On The Wings Of An Eagle_. It's an _Assassin's Creed_ and _Familiar of Zero_ Crossover. And in case you are reading _Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox_ because you liked that other story – thank you for reading both of my efforts, and I can only implore your pardon and ask for your patience until the next chapter is released.

Please, enjoy yourself while reading this story, and if you liked or disliked it, be kind enough to leave a review. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

...

**Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox**

**Chapter VI – A Change of Arrangements**

...

Instead of attacking one after the other, like the villains in one of the increasingly popular samurai and ninja movies would have done, the masked shinobi attacked in a rather coordinated fashion.

The traveller soon found it impossible to be completely on the defensive, and he quickly tried to hit back to at least stall the movements of his opponents. They were just so incredibly _fast_.

He jumped horizontally to avoid being dislegged (a completely viable word, as people in the shinobi world quickly learned) by one ANBU while the other attempted to chop down on his neck. He managed to block the attack in mid-air with a briefly focused burst of chakra, twisting to avoid the next slash that came his way. He tried to leap back to get some distance between himself and the eerie masks, but was immediately engaged in a fierce three-way taijutsu battle.

To say that the traveller was impressed was putting it mildly. He knew from the masks that his attackers were part of the ANBU corps, the feared black ops team of Konohagakure. Skill was a prerequisite to enter the organization. What was the surprising thing about these men and the lone woman was that they were so skilled and so _young_.

Of course, age didn't have a lot of say in a business where life expectancy lay in the mid-twenties to early thirties thanks to continuous danger, near-death experiences, exposure to poisons, the hellish physical and mental training, and (if they got old enough to be reassigned) the boredom of paperwork. But the traveller had fought opponents across the whole of the elemental countries, and telling an opponent's approximate age from their movements was no difficult feat. These three couldn't be more than teenagers.

The fact that he was being stalemated by a bunch of youngsters in a physical match was irritating. He was a prideful, grouchy old man, after all.

Even now, the difference between the fighters could be seen. The traveller was old, so he fought to conserve energy, his style based on evasion and pinpoint blocks and holds to avoid being turned into shish kebab. He used his acrobatics sparingly, but he used them efficiently, evading more than blocking, countering attacks instead of actively attacking himself.

The ANBU were a different story. Although they didn't (or couldn't) show emotions through their masks, their movements were fast, aggressive, aimed at causing maximum damage. They were still attacking using their tantō, but the awkwardness of the enclosed space in the narrow street and the danger of maiming their own comrades made fighting the old man difficult, who had far less reservations hitting back.

In the end, it was a stalemate: the ANBU couldn't hit the old man, and he couldn't hit back enough to hurt them. And if it came down to a contest of stamina, or who would make the first slipup in their fighting style, it was far more likely for the older traveller to lose.

The old man realized this and made a snap decision.

Again, he avoided the slashes of his attackers, who hadn't slowed down in the slightest. When the next man tried to slash from up high (an attack that could have cleanly chopped off a limb with ease), he grabbed the man's wrist and drew his own tantō from his belt in a reverse grip with his right, trying to slash it across the man's stomach. He missed barely, only nicking the skin.

He viciously kicked the surprised man away, sending him tumbling, before turning around to block the attack of the female ANBU, the two blades clashing harshly.

The old man pushed the masked woman away with all his power, aided by the surge of chakra that amplified his strength, sending her down the street again. She managed to stay on her feet, her feet digging furrows into the dusty street. Tabibito swept his arms in a wide manner, the blade glinting evilly in the moonlight, the only light visible in the darkened street.

He grinned, a smile laced with bloodlust that would have terrified any lesser man or woman. "Let's dance, young lady..."

She launched herself at him without hesitation, the blade travelling in a wide arc as she attacked, but the blade was blocked easily. She tried slashing twice more, followed by an elbow strike to the temple. The old man deflected the two attacks with swift parries, using his own forearm to block the elbow easily.

Suddenly, the masked kunoichi was forced to defend herself as the old man attacked with a few sharp, quick slashes aimed at opening her windpipe. She dodged to the side and tried to retreat, but it was difficult as she was suddenly backed against a wall. She was so focused on avoiding the fast-moving blade that she didn't see the traveller's knee shoot up, hitting her hard in the stomach once, then the leg extended in a sharp kick, sending her crashing into the hard brick building. Her head jerked as it impacted against the wall, and she collapsed, unconscious.

However, the traveller's respite was short-lived, as he suddenly felt the air move behind him. He turned around and, eyes widening in surprise, leapt sideways to avoid getting hit by a small, but widely spread hail of shuriken. He struck out with his tantō, but wasn't fast enough to avoid or deflect all of the throwing stars, two of them piercing his thigh and foot.

He groaned in pain as he fell to his knees, but forced himself to keep his eyes open, an old battle habit that saved his life as he managed to deflect the two kunai thrown at him. The so far uninjured enemy ninja flickered right in front of him, lifting his blade in a sideways swing, which the old traveller blocked at the last second.

This time, the only reason why the old traveller survived was sheer dumb luck: the tantō used by the ANBU were double-edged, but had no point for thrusting. The traveller's short sword had a more traditional single-edged design, but its sharpened tip allowed for quick thrusts as well, making it impossible for the masked ninja to attack without getting gutted. The ANBU had to use wide slashes to bring his weapon to bear, a mistake that would cost him.

Suddenly, the traveller jumped up despite the pain in his leg and caught the surprised ANBU's wrist holding his weapon as it came in another swing, stabbing him straight through the stomach with his own dagger. He quickly moved the blade left and right in a disembowelling movement, his eyes locked with those of his attacker.

For a moment, he could have sworn that the eyes, visible through the holes in the mask, _winked_ at him before they dulled, but it was probably only his adrenaline-fuelled imagination.

He shoved the body aside, and could see the last shinobi, the one whose wrist he had broken, preparing to leap away through the darkened streets.

"Oh no, you don't," he muttered, dropping his knife to perform a few rapid hand seals. "Wind Release: Razor Wind," he chanted quietly. A sharp blast of air travelled towards the fleeing shinobi only to cut him in the back of the thighs, severing the hamstrings cleanly. He dropped with a small cry of pain.

Tabibito picked up his knife, slashed the gutted ANBU's throat for good measure (muttering a quick prayer while at it at his age, you learned to value the state of your soul) and stood up shakily. He felt his own blood run down his injured leg, pooling with that of the other man he'd slain, but he ignored it for the time being. He looked at the last conscious of his four assailants, his eyes narrowed as he limped after the hamstrung soldier, who was trying to crawl away in a futile attempt to escape.

He had someone to interrogate.

...

The Hokage frowned as he listened to Fugaku Uchiha's completely dispassionate report. The head of the Uchiha clan had come in earlier this morning without previous appointment, showing how serious the situation was the head of the Konoha Military Police, who more or less despised the village and the Hokage, only threw protocol out the window when the situation was extremely serious.

Finding bodies in a back alley of a ninja village was a cause of concern, but not as pressing as it would have been in a civilian village or town. After all, the village's economy depended on such things as the information trade, violence, and the occasional killing. It was the duty of the Hokage to ensure that it was all regulated and controlled.

No, what worried the Hokage was the fact that no one had noticed a battle that had killed four ANBU members. Unlike the ninja shown in the samurai movies that had increasingly gotten popular in the Land of Fire (Asuma had once dragged his grumbling father to a movie theatre, saying that he "needed to get out more"), _real_ shinobi only used subtlety when they felt it was useful. And most of the time, an overkill elemental attack or a shower of pointy metal tended to eliminate the need for subtlety when necessary.

Still, a battle that had killed four of Konoha's elite, without _anyone_ noticing? This was beyond odd...

The Hokage frowned. Not only had they been defeated, but they had been defeated silently, quite brutally, and the coroner (a highly specialized medic-nin) stated something in his report about the brains of two ANBU showing evidence of psychological manipulation, either from a poison or an extremely potent genjutsu. Worrying...

"Hokage-sama?" Fugaku queried. Sarutobi looked up to see the Uchiha watching him intently with black eyes, his expression unreadable.

He coughed. "Your thoughts, Fugaku? I'm sure you have an opinion on this..."

The long-haired Uchiha shuffled his notes. "We're dealing with a highly dangerous man or woman here, Hokage-sama." He frowned, his fingers tapping on the desk they were both seated at, looking at the ceiling in deep thought. "The fact that he or she was capable of taking down four members of our black ops unit with mere close quarter combat skills and what seems to be a relatively simple wind release technique should be enough to raise alarm bells. What worries me more, however, is not the fact the fact the ANBU were attacked, but that _they_ were the attackers."

"Excuse me?" the Hokage frowned, folding his hands and raising them before his mouth in quiet thoughtfulness. "I ordered no such attacks to be carried out yesterday."

"Which is exactly what is worrying," the Uchiha acquiesced stoically. "No ANBU assassination mission was cleared for yesterday evening or during the night, which means that these men and the woman were either attacked and acted in self-defense, or that they attacked someone against orders."

Fugaku frowned, looking at his notes. "The first theory defies common sense. If an enemy wished to harm Konoha or gain sensitive information, he would attempt to attack or infiltrate one of the many targets of interests the academy, the jutsu library, the Hokage Tower, the various clan estates..." the Uchiha quickly listed off. "Attacking highly skilled members of a known elite organization in one of the most powerful ninja villages for no viable reason? That screams stupidity, overconfidence, or a plain death wish. Which would all have resulted in the death of the attacker if pitted against an ANBU member."

The Hokage nodded. "So we're dealing with a possibly unauthorized ANBU operation that went awry and resulted in casualties, with an unknown target that is still happily roaming around the village. Wonderful." Sarutobi groaned and palmed his face tiredly. "The Konoha Military Police has no authority to investigate events involving ANBU, unluckily, meaning that you'll have to stay on the sidelines for this one," he began. With his eyes covered, the Hokage didn't see Fugaku's face twitching in anger before he controlled himself. "I'll investigate this myself. Don't worry; I will inform you when I find the one responsible for this."

The man stood up, bowing stiffly. "Hokage-sama."

The Hokage inclined his head. "Have a good day, Fugaku." As the clan head turned to leave, the Hokage remembered something. "Oh, I nearly forgot!" he said brightly. The man stilled. "Congratulations on your son Itachi's promotion to chūnin! At ten years old, no less." The Hokage chuckled. "That kid is really something else. You trained him well. I wouldn't be surprised if he made it into ANBU soon."

The clan head turned, a cold smile on his lips. "If he does, I hope that he'll avoid the fate of being disembowelled in the back of an alley like a dog."

"Perish the thought," the Hokage muttered. He looked up, smiling in a grandfatherly way. "Say hello to your wife and your sons for me, Fugaku. I really should visit you soon."

A cold, indifferent bow. "You are always welcome in my home, Hokage-sama. Good day to you." And with that, the Uchiha stepped out the office, quietly closing the door behind him.

Sarutobi watched the door quietly. Another, unspoken reason that he didn't entrust the clan head with the investigation of these deaths was that the Uchiha clan couldn't be trusted with sensitive matters, at least not anymore. They had been acting coldly towards the village's interests lately, and more often than not had been an irritating thorn in the advisory council's activities. The cold and standoffish demeanour of the Uchiha clansmen didn't help the cooperation between the Hokage and the clan either, and the other shinobi watched the Sharingan wielders with suspicion and resentment, even if it was mostly overshadowed by respect and awe for their skills.

The Hokage sighed. Something would have to be done about this...

His dark mood was immediately replaced with irritation as he heard his secretary arguing loudly with a familiar voice. He groaned, and waited with both palms clasped to his face.

"Look, you cannot just waltz into the Hokage's office like this!"

"Now, young lady, I know it's unexpected and unusual and that it's presumably considered sacrilege by any self-respecting bureaucrat to turn up without an appointment, blablabla, but I _really_ need to talk to the big man in charge. B'sides, he _knows_ me. Come on, do an old man a favour and let me pass, will ya?"

The Hokage could just imagine the woman's nostrils flaring in indignation. "There is no way that I'm going to let an old drunk see the Hokage like this! Don't you have any manners!"

"Believe me, I _do_ have manners, but I choose not to practice them most of the time. Besides, I'm old, ma'am, so I really couldn't care less about proper protocol and all that baloney." The Hokage groaned as he pictured the outraged expression of his secretary. He was going to pay for this later. "So, can I come in now?"

The Third sighed as he pressed a button on his intercom. "Let him in, please. I _do_ know that old idiot, and he's harmless." A lie, but if it was the only way to appease the woman in charge of his office, damn it, then he would do it gladly. He was a ninja too, after all; misdirection was part of the business.

A second later, a grinning Tabibito was led into the office by the Hokage's fuming secretary. "See? Told ya." He bowed mockingly to her. She just shot him a furious look as she stalked out of the office.

As soon as Sarutobi had finished his hand seals to ensure that no noise could be overheard, the Suna traveller burst out laughing. "Damn, Hiruzen, that's one scary lady you have guarding your door!" He chuckled as he unstrapped his lute from his back. "I think I might be already falling in love."

"Please don't antagonize the people working in my office," the Third ordered, glaring menacingly. "I'm the one who feels the pain afterwards."

"Which is why it's so much fun to do it in the first place," the traveller replied, grinning all the while. "How's your day been so far?"

"Bad," the Hokage said, relaxing slightly in the man's presence. He allowed the lines of worry to appear on his face as he took out the bottle of sake from his desk drawer. "Quite a bit of trouble happened last night, and we all have no clue how, when, or why it happened."

"Does said trouble involve a few dead and unconscious ANBU in a back alley of the Kamakuri district?"

Sarutobi's hand, which was just pouring a cup of sake for Tabibito, nearly smashed the bottle to pieces. "What?"

"Easy! You'll spill it all," the traveller chided as he took the cup from the village leader, who was glaring daggers at him.

"How," Hiruzen began slowly and dangerously, "do you know about something that you couldn't possibly know about, Tabibito?"

The traveller sipped from his cup, appreciating the sharp alcohol. "That's easy to answer," he replied carelessly, smacking his lips. "I was the one they jumped."

"Explain. Now," the Hokage said in a clipped fashion, brooking no disagreement. Recognizing that Sarutobi was in 'Hokage-mode' again, the traveller grabbed the bottle and poured the rice wine in the other cup, handing it to the Hokage. "This is gonna take a while..." he sighed.

Fifteen minutes later, the story was told.

"So, to sum it all up," the Hokage said, watching the traveller empty his cup for the third time, "you were suddenly attacked by four of my ANBU yesterday evening after leaving Ichiraku's. They told you that your involvement with Naruto was unwanted and tried to kill you. You defended yourself, leaving two of them dead, another unconscious, and the other heavily injured."

"That's it."

"You interrogated the last conscious one, or at least tried to, but didn't get much information out of him. After that, you left them as they were, washed your clothes in a stream close to one of the training grounds, bandaged your mostly superficial wounds, and found an inn to stay at before coming to see me this morning. Am I correct so far?"

"Yes, o mighty mushroom hat," the traveller nodded sagely, ignoring the Hokage's twitching eyebrow.

"Did you use a genjutsu on them, Tabibito?"

The traveller frowned as he refilled his cup, squinting at the Hokage quizzically. "Genjutsu? I'm pretty good at illusions, but I'm not one of your famous Uchiha or Yamanaka, so I only use them during battle as a distraction, not when interrogating someone."

"Something doesn't add up," the Hokage muttered.

"What doesn't?" Tabibito asked, annoyed at being left out.

"Tabibito, a Konoha MP patrol found _four_ dead bodies in that alley, and apparently some of them show evidence of being manipulated by a genjutsu."

"Hold on just a sec," the traveller interjected, frowning. "I only killed two of them! I don't think that they were injured that badly when I left them that they died later..."

"Which means that someone came later, put them under a genjutsu for some reason, and then killed them," the Hokage finished, looking out the window.

"Well, there's one thing I found out," the traveller said, looking at his cup thoughtfully. "The guy I talked to said something about a weed, or a tuber, or something."

The Hokage sat up straight, staring at Tabibito in surprise. "Root."

The traveller nodded, catching the old man's reaction, but refusing to comment. "Yeah, that was it." He shrugged. "I really have no bloody clue what it means, though."

The Hokage smiled thinly as he took up his cup. "Don't worry. _I_ know what it means." He sipped the strong alcohol carefully. "Thanks for telling me."

"If it helps, then you're welcome. Am I off the hook for killing a whole bunch of your elite soldiers, then?" Tabibito asked, slightly amused.

The Hokage sighed as he drank. "I didn't order you killed, so whoever _did_ order it has only themselves to blame if they failed. And I can't fault you for self-defence." He returned to his stern demeanour as he glared at the traveller. "But try to avoid killing my shinobi if you can, especially the skilled ones. They're nearly impossible to replace. If this happens to you again, tie them up and bring them to me."

"Of course, of course," the traveller agreed airily.

They drank for a moment in silence, simply enjoying the peace and quiet. The Hokage could appreciate it, busy as he was. After exactly two minutes, the traveller was bored.

"Although my exploits are interesting, I'm sure; it's not really what I wanted to talk to you about," he said, putting down his cup gingerly.

"Really?" the Hokage said with amusement. "If you're broke, I'm not giving you money to buy saké."

"Don't I wish. I was wondering if I could train the brat," the traveller said, his expression serious.

The Hokage spat out his saké, mostly hitting Tabibito. "What the hell?" his victim exclaimed, wiping off his face. "What d'you do that for!"

He trailed off as he realized that Sarutobi was staring at him incredulously, alcohol running down his goatee and his cup forgotten in his hand. "Run that past me again."

"I want to train the brat. Naruto Uzumaki, you know? Blond, blue eyes, whiskers on his cheeks, scrawny, annoyingly loud, loves ramen?" the traveller said. Noting the lack of reaction, he carefully waved his hand in front of the Hokage's face. "Hello? You still there, Hiruzen?"

"I heard you the first time, but I just thought my old age had finally gotten to me," the Hokage said, his eyebrow twitching. "Tabibito, why in the name of the spirits do _you_ want to train Naruto?"

The traveller shrugged. "A number of reasons. One," he held up a hand, listing off with his fingers, "the brat contains the giant fuzzball known as the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox. He needs training now, otherwise he'll die early. If he learns to control his chakra early, it'll be easier to control the malevolent furry he has in him." The traveller grimaced. "That sounded wrong, somehow."

"Why can't he learn that later, like the other children in the village?"

"Because he's not like the other kids in the village, Hiuzen. The earlier he learns the various ninja arts, the easier it'll be for him later, and the longer he'll survive if someone tries to hurt him because he's the Kyuubi's container," the traveller said bluntly, seemingly unaffected by the alcohol in him or the Hokage's expression directed at him. "No one outside the village knows about the brat being the container, but that'll change pretty soon as he grows older, if it isn't already known by the Kage of the other hidden villages or some individuals outside the shinobi networks. The whole village knows; it won't be long until something slips out, special laws be damned.

"Reason number two," another finger lifted up. "The kid has potential. He's the host to the most powerful of the Tailed Beasts. Teach him early, raise him to be loyal to Konoha, and you have a serious powerhouse that can protect the village later."

"You sound like some of the war hawks on the council," Sarutobi interrupted sharply. "I care about the boy, Tabibito. I will not have him raised as some sort of weapon."

"I'm not saying to raise him as some sort of emotionless killing machine," Tabibito retorted, his voice equally sharp as he glared right back at the Third. "If I trained him, I swear that I'd treat him like the child he is. I'd teach him the skills as if he was my apprentice, not as if he was an inhuman weapon."

"Why choose _you_ as his teacher, then? Why not someone else? I have many qualified shinobi in the village I could choose from."

"I'm the best possible candidate for his teaching post because I can _protect_ him, Hiruzen." The man's eyes were now fully focused on the Hokage, grey eyes sharp and vigilant. The Third was suddenly reminded that this was the man who had caused merry havoc on the frontlines of the Third Shinobi War. "Look in your own damn bingo book, Hiruzen. I'm classified as an S-class shinobi, meaning I have an immediate flee-on-sight order placed on me." He snorted, amused. "The exception being ninja specifically sent to kill or apprehend me, like the four idiots last night." His serious expression returned. "I have the skills to teach the kid, Hiruzen. Taijutsu, ninjutsu, genjutsu... I can do it all, and I can teach it to him.

"Reason number three," the third finger was raised, "I was the sealing master in Sunagakure. I developed the seal that was used to seal the One-Tailed Tanuki into its new host."

"What?" Hiruzen exclaimed, wide-eyed. "That was _you_?"

The traveller grimaced, as if he remembered an unpleasant memory. "I picked up many things when I travelled in my youth. I visited Uzushiogakure in the Land of Whirlpools a few times before... before it was razed to the ground. Suna was an ally of theirs at the time, so they taught me for a while, and allowed me to take a few of their scrolls. You know how skilled they were when it came to sealing..."

"I remember. I knew a few of the refugees," the Hokage muttered, remembering the remnants of the Uzumaki clan that fled to Konoha among them Naruto's ancestors on his mother's side, the beautiful Kushina Uzumaki.

"Anyways," the traveller continued quickly, as if trying to dislodge a few painful memories. "When it comes to sealing, I'm an expert. That means I can watch the seal that the Fourth put on the brat; I can make sure that it doesn't break, and I can teach the kid how to use and control it. Perhaps I'll even manage to tweak it a bit, make it more efficient or more resistant. Worst case scenario, I know exactly how to kill a jinchūriki if the tailed beast sealed in the host takes over _without_ destroying the whole village around it in a massive explosion of chakra."

The Hokage stared at his old ally and sometimes-enemy, completely shocked. "You can't be serious, Tabibito. He's just a child."

"I've had kids not much older than him try to kill me in some of the mop-up operations I took part in during the war, Hiruzen," the traveller replied coldly. "I'll kill the brat if it means saving a village of two hundred thousand people. And considering how some of the villagers are treating him now, I wouldn't be surprised if he _wanted_ to go berserk." The Hokage flinched guiltily.

"Moving on, number four," Tabibito sighed, the fourth finger rising. "I'm a free man now. I've got nothing better to do, to be honest. I'm old, and it won't take much longer before the Shinigami comes to knock on my door. I can take care of the kid. I have no loyalties to anyone anymore. I left Suna two years ago, and I've mostly been travelling since then."

"How is you being a missing-nin of all things a benefit as a teacher?" the Hokage asked sceptically.

The traveller grinned now, the grin of all tricksters everywhere when they revealed something only _they_ knew. "I have no loyalties to anyone anymore, Hiruzen. Get it? I can't be bribed; I've been through so much as a ninja that torture is nothing but a good laugh, and I'm so fucking old that offers of wealth and power are not exactly interesting or appealing in any way. If I teach the kid, I won't betray him." His grin widened. "And I certainly won't betray someone he calls 'Grandpa'."

Sarutobi was touched, but still grumbled as he mulled it over. He knew that if Tabibito gave his word, he would keep it. An attitude frowned upon by many shinobi, certainly, but the Peregrine Falcon of Suna was known to stick to his promises. In the world of veils and darkness, such a reputation could be useful.

And then there were the numerous times the two old warriors had saved each other from certain death...

"Tell you what, mushroom head," the traveller said with a grin, leaning back in his seat. "I'm going to stay in the village for a while, and you can have me watched by someone while I teach the brat. If anything funny goes on, they'll tell you, and you can have the pleasure of booting my old ass out of your village, soccer-style."

"Don't tempt me," the Hokage grumbled, annoyed at being called 'mushroom head' again. Tabibito was really the only person in the world who dared to be so disrespectful to a Kage, possibly the only other exception being Naruto. But then again, that's why the two of them were such good company.

"Why are you so intent on teaching Naruto? You only met him yesterday," the Hokage asked, a tad suspicious. One had to be when dealing with the old traveller.

"Besides all the reasons I mentioned?" the old man asked nonchalantly. "I like the kid. He's a kind soul, and pretty fun to be around. If I can help him get stronger and make sure he doesn't die early, then there's at least one good deed in my book when I meet the Shinigami. Besides..." He smiled widely.

The Hokage looked sharply at the traveller, who was grinning at him, lounging lazily in his seat. His hand with four raised fingers was held up, the pinky wiggling up and down. "Go on," the Third sighed. "I know there's one last reason, Tabibito. Hit me."

The traveller grinned. "Reason number five," he said mischievously. "Remember that I told that I was attacked by those ANBU because my interest in the brat was 'unwanted'? What better way to piss off whoever was behind that than by teaching the brat?"

For a moment, the Hokage just stared at Tabibito, and then he started to laugh. It started as a quiet chuckle, but after a few moments, the old man was laughing out loud. Tabibito looked at him, starting to get nervous. There were a few reasons why Hiruzen Sarutobi was known as the 'Professor the obvious fact being that he was probably the greatest expert on ninjutsu in the whole goddamn _world_, but it was also the strict, but kind attitude of an academic that had earned him the nickname.

If he was laughing his ass off like this, then something was horribly, horribly _wrong_.

"You're completely right, Tabibito," the Hokage giggled, his sides hurting. He wiped his eyes with his wide sleeves, but still didn't quite manage to control himself. "If it is who I think it is, he will just _love_ the fact that you're going to be the one to teach Naruto."

"So I'm in?" the traveller asked, perking up.

"Not so fast, Tabibito," the Hokage exclaimed, returning to his stern demeanour, although the sides of his mouth occasionally twitched. His eyes had taken a gleam that the traveller didn't like _at all_. "If you're going to be Naruto's teacher, there have to be some ground rules..."

...

Naruto and Iruka were just on their way up the stairs to the Hokage Tower (Iruka holding the boy's hand, because walking up all those stairs by himself was still difficult for a small child) when they heard an ungodly scream.

The genin and whiskered boy stared at each other in silent shock for a moment, and then they both started running up the stairs to the Hokage's office.

When they arrived, they saw that the door to the office had already been opened hastily by the secretary, who was staring in shock at the writhing figure on the floor. "What in the spirits' name..." she whispered, panicking. Naruto and Iruka stepped into the doorway, their eyes widening as they recognized the traveller.

The Hokage was still seated at his desk, calmly lighting his pipe.

"Grandpa!" Naruto cried indignantly, pointing an accusing finger at the Hokage as the man continued to shiver on the floor. "What did you do to Uncle?"

"Nothing special, Naruto," the old man smiled innocently as he blew out a stream of smoke. "Your uncle here had an idea, and I agreed to it." The smile stretched wider. "But for some reason, he reacted like this. I'm completely innocent."

Naruto blinked, lowering his hand. "What idea?" he asked as his blue eyes looked suspiciously at the old man behind the desk.

The Hokage smiled. "Why, he's going to teach you how to be a ninja, Naruto."

For a moment, the little boy just gaped at the Third. "Really?"

The Hokage nodded with a kind smile, and Naruto jumped in the air, whooping. He turned to the stunned Iruka, who was watching the proceedings with surprise and quite a bit of apprehension, but couldn't help but smile as the boy started to chatter excitedly to him. "Did you hear that, Iruka-ni?" Naruto grinned from ear to ear. "I'm going to be a ninja!"

"That's nice, Naruto," Iruka said, smiling back at the happy blonde, then glanced at the traveller on the floor. "But I think we need to take care of your Uncle first..."

Naruto stopped, and looked at the traveller. "Uncle?" he asked quietly.

"You bastard..." the prone man growled, addressing the Hokage, his face still glued to the floor. "You old, dried-up, wrinkled piece of shit..." He had stopped twitching, but he lifted his head, staring at the Third with an expression of loathing laced with some unwilling admiration. "I didn't think you'd ever even consider something that harsh. I don't remember you ever being this cruel during the war. And that means something, considering the hell we were in."

"Why, Tabibito," the Hokage smiled, still smoking peacefully, "forbidding you to drink while you teach is not a big sacrifice, don't you think? Why, in some parts of the world, it's expected as common decency."

The traveller stood up, a haggard expression on his face. "I'll do it, Hiruzen," he swore, one of his eyelids twitching. "I'll prove to you that I don't need saké to be a great teacher. I'll make this kid one of the best shinobi you have ever seen, and I'll do it all _sober_."

The Hokage grinned. "You're on, Tabibito." He turned to Iruka, a benevolent expression on his face. "Iruka Umino, right?"

Iruka snapped to attention as much as a ninja could and saluted. "That's right, Hokage-sama!"

"You were on Team Seventeen until that unfortunate training accident, no?" the Hokage asked, glancing into a small ledger on his desk.

Iruka nodded, grimacing. "Yes, Hokage-sama. My partner was hit badly by a stray Earth jutsu. He's still in a coma, and when he wakes up, he'll have to stay in the hospital for a few months. At least. If he recovers at all, that is."

The Hokage nodded, rummaging through a drawer. "All right, then." He took out a mission scroll, quickly filling in the details as he spoke. "Iruka Umino, you and your other partner from your cell..." he glanced at a ledger, "Mizuki – what's his last name, anyway? – will help Tabibito Ryokousha with Naruto Uzumaki's training and education. This will be a long-term mission lasting at least several months, and the two of you will receive payment for a B-rank mission. Considering that you'll probably have your hands full dealing with Tabibito _and_ Naruto at the same time, I hope that's enough compensation." He handed the genin the scroll with a smile. "Good luck."

"Thank you, Hokage-sama," Iruka said, bowing. He could hear the traveller and Naruto start squabbling already, arguing about something. Probably where they were going to get lunch. He sighed, closing his eyes to ward off the headache he knew would be coming later. "I have a feeling I'll need it."

...

The original manga series of _Naruto _was written and drawn by _Masashi Kishimoto_, originally published by _Shueisha_ in 1997, and is still ongoing at the time of writing (May 2012) after sixty published volumes and two different anime adaptations: one simply titled _Naruto_ by _Studio Perrot_ that premiered in October 2002 and ended in February 2007, and its sequel _Naruto: Shipuuden_ (Naruto: Hurricane Chronicles) by the same studio that premiered in February 2008 and is still ongoing at the time of writing. Various tie-in works like novels, video games, and a series of theatrical movies have been published to date.

Again, please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.


	7. Chapter VII – To Find A New Home

DO NOTE that this story IS NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of _fanfiction_ based on the original work and its associated franchise, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with the Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.

...

Good day and good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the next chapter of _Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox_. A great many thanks to all of you that read and reviewed – you surely know how to motivate me! Thank you.

This is the end of the first arc of the story. With this chapter, many of the relevant characters, original and otherwise, have been introduced, and we can get to the meat of the story after this one. Tell me what you think of my characters! As many of them are not part of the Naruto canon, I would dearly like to know what you think of them, and if you think I manage to portray the _Naruto_ universe well. All opinions welcome.

As I said in the previous chapter, I unfortunately have exams to prepare for – this means that I will have to suspend updates until they are all done and finished, which will take about a month. I am still writing this story and others, don't worry! This is not an indefinite hiatus or anything of the sort. I just need to concentrate on these exams. As soon as I am done with those, I'm going straight back to writing. I'm terribly sorry, but I really have no other choice in the matter. I recommend using the ever-useful 'story alert ' button or, if you don't have an account, a bookmark in your browser of choice to know when this story gets updated again.

Like I said, I will start updating – this story and my other one, _On The Wings Of An Eagle_ – again in a month. I sincerely apologize, and I hope that you can understand my dilemma.

Please, enjoy yourself while reading this story, and if you liked or disliked it, be kind enough to leave a review. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

...

**Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox**

**Chapter VII - To Find A New Home**

...

The traveller grumbled as he, Iruka, and Naruto (who was still jumping around and excitedly chatting with his "Iruka-ni") walked through the city. The old man grimaced – for Hiruzen to think up something as brutal as forbidding him to drink during the brat's training! The man knew exactly what buttons to push to test him... Again, he'd underestimated how clever the 'Professor' and the 'God of Shinobi' could be. A mistake he just paid dearly for.

Nevertheless, it was nice to see that the brat was so happy that he ignored all the glares and resentful looks sent his way. He was still grinning from ear to ear, blabbering about how "awesome" his training was going to be. Iruka smiled, but seemed worried for some reason.

_Well_, the traveller thought moodily as he realized that his hand had taken out a bottle of sake from his pouch out of pure habit, _there are more than enough reasons to be worried right now. My withdrawal symptoms, for starters._

"Hey, youngster," he addressed Iruka wearily.

"Yes?"

"Is there a training ground in this village somewhere?"

Iruka looked at him, partly incredulous, partly with pity. "Sir, you _do_ know this is a ninja village, right?"

"First thing," Tabibito said, rounding on him faster than the teenager could blink, fixing him with an icy stare, "I'm no one's 'sir', all right? When I was a shinobi, I _worked_ for a bloody living. And second, if I ever was called 'sir', which I can't recall, then I have no right to be addressed as such anymore – I left my village a while ago. You may call me 'his awesomeness', 'the mighty traveller', or 'the Great Falcon'." He saw Iruka's eyebrow twitch. "Or, if all those grandiose titles annoy you, you can just call me 'Uncle', like the brat."

"Hey!" Naruto protested. "I'm not a brat!"

Tabibito tapped him lightly on the head. "You're a brat until I tell you otherwise, short stuff! I'm your teacher now, get it?"

Naruto pouted mutinously. "Yes, Uncle."

The traveller nodded seriously. "Good boy." He returned to adress Iruka with a frown. "Anyways, although I might be a great ninja and mighty traveller, I haven't been here for a while, and I don't know where the training grounds in this village are. Considering how huge this village is, would you _please_ tell me where the nearest one of them is so we can get started without any further delay?"

Iruka sighed, defeated. "Nearest training ground it is, then, Uncle."

Tabibito grinned and patted him on the head as well, which only made the teenager scowl. "Atta boy."

...

The training area they arrived resembled a park: it was a large, wooded space with the occasional wide clearing, the trees offering shade in the hot weather. Tababito could definitely approve. In Sunagakure, most outdoor training areas were barren, swelteringly hot wastelands or stretches of desert with lots of differently shaped rocks. And then some more rocks.

Yeah... The dunes weren't exactly big on variety.

While it made for good survival and endurance training, it was extremely dull, and you couldn't practice combat in different environments. Konoha was far better off this way, another little advantage of many over its neighbours.

Tabibito took off his lute and travelling bag, setting them next to a tree before plopping himself in the cool shadows against the tree trunk with a sigh. He watched Naruto and Iruka looking at him funnily and raised an eyebrow. "Well, what? I'm an old man, I need my rest. Sit your asses down. Or are you gonna stand around all day in that heat?"

They sat opposite the traveller, Naruto grumbling. "Man, this isn't how I imagined we were going to train..." Iruka was just happy to sit in the shade. He could take relaxing, highly paid and completely harmless work any day of the week.

The traveller's raised eyebrow climbed even further. "We haven't even started and you're already complaining, brat? What kinda ninja do you want to be, one who complains or one who acts?"

"I'll be good!" Naruto said, rubbing his neck sheepishly and grinning. Iruka snorted, amused.

The traveller nodded. "Right, let's get started then." He looked up at the leafy canopy above, deep in thought. "Naruto, what exactly is a ninja?"

"Huh?" the whiskered boy said, frowning as he thought about the question. "A ninja is someone who protects his village!" he said finally, beaming.

"Not bad, but wrong," the traveller said, shaking his head with a grin. "A ninja can also be someone who has no village to protect, like a missing-nin, for example."

"But missing-nin aren't real ninja! They're traitors!" Naruto exclaimed, outraged.

"They're still ninja," Tabibito retorted. "Whether they're from a village or who they work for is completely irrelevant, Naruto. Think again."

The boy was rocking slightly, face scrunched up in concentration. Iruka and Tabibito had to restrain their chuckles at the comical sight.

"If a ninja has no village, then there's no point to him being a ninja..." Naruto muttered, sounding annoyed as he pondered the question.

"You're going about this the wrong way, brat," the old man interrupted. "Think about it this way: what is the difference between a normal person and a shinobi?"

"A ninja can do all kinds of cool stuff!" Naruto exclaimed happily, blue eyes shining.

"And why can they do all kinds of cool stuff?" Tabibito asked patiently.

"Errr..." Naruto said eloquently, face falling. "I don't know."

Iruka couldn't help but laugh out loud at the expression on Naruto's face, which resembled that of a wet poodle. Tabibito, grinning as well, chuckled as the boy looked outraged at the teenager he considered a big brother.

"You got it down on the second try, Naruto," the man said before the boy could launch himself at Iruka and pummel him in retribution. "A ninja is basically someone who has learned how to use his or her chakra."

"Chakra?" Naruto repeated, wide-eyed, his full attention on the old man as Iruka recovered from his little laughing fit.

"Yes, chakra." The man opened his hand, blue sparks flickering in his palm. Naruto watched the little flames jump up and down, fascinated. "Chakra is basically the expression of the spiritual and physical energy of the human body, released to create various effects." He glanced at Iruka, who was listening intently, despite having probably learnt all this before. The boy was interested. Good.

Closing his palm, the sparks winked out of existence. "Chakra is a combination of the spiritual energy of your mind," he poked Naruto's forehead with a finger, "and the physical energy of your body." He poked Naruto's chest where his heart was.

"Basically, chakra is the energy from your body, and it can be moulded to influence your surroundings in different ways. Ninja train themselves to increase their chakra reserves so that they can fight longer and stronger, while they try to get better at their chakra control to use their techniques more efficiently."

"So it's like ramen?" Naruto asked, utterly fascinated.

Interrupted mid-lecture, the traveller blinked and stared at the blonde. "What?"

"It's like when old man Teuchi makes his ramen," Naruto explained excitedly. "He puts the ingredients in his pot, and then he cooks them. But it wouldn't taste as good if it wasn't Teuchi-san making the ramen, so that means that Teuchi-san is the better cook!"

The traveller frowned, trying to understand the odd analogy the whiskered fox boy had presented him with. "So you're saying that the noodles are like the physical energy, Teuchi's cooking is the spiritual energy, and the result is a bowl of ramen, which is the chakra you use."

"Yep!" Naruto said happily. "You got it right in one, Uncle!"

Iruka and Tabibito exchanged looks with equally deadpan expressions.

"You know," the traveller started morosely, "a little kid explained the most basic principle of our secret art using an analogy involving noodles and cooking, and it fits perfectly for some reason. I don't know if that's depressingly simple or brilliant."

"Well," the teenager sighed, "at least Naruto understood it perfectly."

"Agreed," Tabibito nodded, returning to a confused-looking Naruto. "Don't worry about it. Now, your first job is to learn to focus your chakra. It's quite simple for a trained shinobi, but it'll be difficult 'cause you're new at this, so don't start whining if you can't get it right off the bat."

He moved his hands in a hand seal, showing how his fingers were aligned to Naruto. "This is the dragon seal. It's one of the twelve standard hand seals of the shinobi world."

"What does 'standard' mean?" Naruto asked as he tried to mimic the traveller's fingers.

"It means that all shinobi everywhere use these same hand seals, Naruto," Iruka explained, quickly helping to adjust the boy's fingers into the correct posture.

"What he said. Basically, you'll find that all shinobi use these hand seals to channel their chakra. They're the basic tools any ninja uses to mould their chakra into different forms, which depend on the way these seals are formed and the sequence they're formed in." He anticipated Naruto's question before the boy even opened his mouth. "'Sequence' means in which order the seals are performed, so which seal comes after the other."

"Okay," Naruto nodded, concentrating furiously.

"Now, listen carefully, brat," the traveller said, looking at the boy intently. "If you use too much of your chakra at once, there's a risk that you could exhaust yourself, damage your body, and, in the most extreme cases, kill yourself." The boy's blue eyes snapped open, looking at the old man in shock. "Ninja train so that this _doesn't_ happen. If you're not careful during training, you can easily hurt yourself, or you can hurt the ones around you." He didn't miss Iruka's grimace at that statement. He heard that the kid's partner had an accident recently. "Which is why when I tell you to do something during training, you do it_ exactly as I say_, and no other way. When I tell you to stop, you stop _immediately_ without asking questions. When I explain something, I want your full attention. Otherwise, you _will_ hurt yourself at some point. Am I making myself clear, brat?"

"Yes, Uncle," Naruto nodded, his expression as serious as that of his teacher. Iruka would have laughed at the unusual sight if it wasn't so important for Naruto to understand.

The old traveller grinned, grey eyes twinkling. "I see you get it. Now, this is how you focus your chakra..."

...

"Go on," the traveller sighed, as he plucked at the strings of his lute, leaning back against the tree trunk. He needed to practice a bit before he could find a place that would offer him a gig, and now was the perfect opportunity in the quiet forest. "I know you want to ask me something:"

Iruka frowned as he watched Naruto sitting next to a tree across the clearing. The traveller had told him to go over there so he wouldn't be distracted, but they could still watch him in case something happened. The little boy was seated in a meditation position the old man had showed him, occasionally shifting. If you weren't yet used to it, meditation could be pretty uncomfortable.

Iruka glanced at the old man who was playing a few bars on his instrument, humming a quiet tune. He really had no idea what to think of the old man. When he had first met him, he had thought him to be a friendly, if a bit grouchy senior citizen. The fact that he'd taken care of Naruto while he had run away from the orphanage was something he'd been grateful for.

But when he had returned to the orphanage, he'd met an excited Mizuki, who'd told him the latest rumour: apparently, an elderly traveller with a lute on his back had beaten the crap out of three chūnin with ease before getting hauled before the Hokage. What worried the villagers even more than the simple fact that three trained warriors and killers had been effortlessly pummelled was that it was apparently done to protect the demon brat.

While he kept quiet about having met the man to Mizuki, his worries about the "plan" the old man had mentioned involving Naruto increased even more now. He resolved to take Naruto to meet the old musician and the Hokage, despite his misgivings. He thanked the gods that he had managed to be chosen to help Naruto's training – that way, he could keep an eye on the child and make sure that the old man wouldn't hurt him, whatever it was he planned.

"Wondering what my nefarious plans are?" the traveller asked absent-mindedly.

Iruka's head snapped around instinctively, but his expression was schooled into one of polite confusion. "Excuse me?" he said cheerfully.

The traveller sighed, surprised that the youngster could hide his emotions so well already. But then again, body language and intuition of a lifetime made even shinobi-trained people easy to read. For him, at least. "You're wondering whether I'm going to try to harm Naruto. Don't even try to hide it, youngster."

At that, Iruka frowned, his previous disguise falling away. "You're definitely a shinobi, 'Uncle'," he said carefully, but the sarcasm in the familiar address was blatant. "Any half-decently trained ninja could see that."

The traveller shook his head, plucking a lute string thoughtfully. "I only show my training when I want to, boy."

"Well then, why does a foreign shinobi – because you obviously don't know your way around here – have such an interest in a small four-year old child of Konohagakure, even deciding to train him?"

"Maybe I like that kid and I want to help him become the Hokage, like he said he wanted to?" the traveller replied, smirking a bit.

"One possibility, although that doesn't explain why the Third allows you to train Naruto." Iruka paused, trying to think of a way to phrase his next statement. "Naruto is... special."

"You care about him, don't you?" the traveller suddenly asked, his grey eyes sharply locking with Iruka's brown ones. The old man snorted, amused and resigned at the same time. "You _do_ care about that brat. Considering _who_ he is, you just earned yourself major points in my book, boy."

"What do you mean by 'considering who he is'?" Iruka asked calmly, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I refer to the fact that he has the Nine-Tailed Furry of Doom sealed in his stomach," the traveller said casually, returning to playing his song on his lute. He blinked as a kunai was pressed to his throat.

"Give me one good reason not to kill you right here and now, _Uncle_," Iruka growled dangerously, having moved faster than the traveller thought was possible for a genin.

"I might let you live," the old man said cheerfully, and only then did Iruka notice that a drawn tantō was lying lightly, edge-wise, against his stomach. He tried to move away, but the blade was pressed deeper, biting into the fabric of his shirt and making him stop.

The traveller looked at Iruka in a thoughtful way, ignoring the weapon threatening to pierce his throat. "You kill anyone yet, youngster?"

Iruka gritted his teeth angrily. "No."

"But you'd kill me to protect the demon brat?" the old man asked, sounding puzzled.

"He's an innocent child, not a demon," the teenager spat, "and I won't let anyone hurt him, least of all an old codger like you."

The traveller grinned lopsidedly, the movement of his muscles in his throat nearly drawing blood from the kunai. "Fair enough." He sheathed the knife with a small movement. "I'll tell you a bit about myself, if that reassures you." Iruka didn't move, and the old man frowned. "Oh, come off it, I swear that I don't want to hurt Naruto. The boss man himself entrusted the brat to me, for the gods' sake. What more do you want?"

Reluctantly, the teenager withdrew his kunai from the traveller's throat, but refused to put it away. Wise precaution.

They watched Naruto fall over at the opposite edge of the clearing, immediately sitting back up again while rubbing his head. Apparently, he'd been concentrating so hard that he fell over. How he managed to do that while sitting, they had no idea.

"Right, about me..." the traveller mused, returning Iruka's attention to him. "My name is Tabibito Ryokousha, and I'm originally from Sunagakure."

"The Hidden Sand village?" Iruka asked, slightly surprised.

"I said I was _originally_ from there, boy. I became a ninja at the age of seven – those were the times when villages taught their children young; you can ask your Hokage about that, he grew up during that time – and for about five decades, I served my village like every other ninja would, travelling, stealing, spying, killing as I was ordered. You know the drill."

He frowned quietly as he tuned a string of the lute, twisting the knob at the end of the instrument minutely. "The travelling was the most fun though, and I had a bit of a reputation as being an annoying loose cannon, so in the end, I often worked and travelled alone, meeting a lot of people along the way. I met the Third during that time as well, sometimes trying to put one over him, sometimes working with him. Alliances changed quickly, you know? We became more or less pals during the last war when Suna and Konoha teamed up to kick Iwagakure's ass."

"And now?" Iruka asked carefully.

Tabibito snorted. "Well, now I'm nothing but an old drunk, seeing as I left Suna a while back. I recently came into the village to visit the Hokage, who I haven't seen in years, and met the brat by accident at a ramen bar. And from there it sorta kinda accidentally snowballed when I tried to help the kid by beating up those three punks."

"And you know about Naruto's... condition."

"The Hokage told me." The traveller frowned. "Why are you so careful about saying that the brat is a jinchūriki?"

Iruka sighed, looking away. "The Third put out a law on the day that no one was to tell anyone not from the village or the village children that Naruto is the host for the demon fox. I think the Hokage hoped that it would allow Naruto to have some friends his age, grow up normally."

Tabibito snorted. "Well, _that_ didn't exactly work out as planned, did it?"

"No." Iruka looked at Naruto, still in his meditative pose. "Is that what people like him, hosts for demons, are called? Jinchūriki?"

"Yep," the traveller nodded. "Jinchūriki, the 'Power of Human Sacrifice'. There have been people like him in the centuries before – sealing a Tailed Beast is the only way of defeating it, seeing as they're impossible to destroy by mere humans." The traveller shifted uncomfortably. "They are usually ostracized by society, either imprisoned because the people fear the power they can unleash, or treated as human weapons by their village leaders, or both. In most cases, the hosts turn into antisocial, homicidal monsters not much better than the Tailed Beasts themselves."

Iruka shuddered in the cold shadow of the tree. "That's horrible."

"It is," the traveller agreed, sombre. He began smiling though as he watched Naruto, and for the first time it wasn't a sarcastic grim or mischievous smirk, but a genuine, grandfatherly smile. For some reason, it fit his wizened features far better. "But the jinchūriki have potential. You know about the Sage of the Six Paths?"

"The creator of all ninjutsu, a ninja unparalleled in strength and power, the first man to teach the skills of the shinobi, a god amongst men," Iruka recited from memory. Rote learning at the Academy had some benefits.

"He was also the first jinchūriki."

Iruka stared at him. "I didn't know that."

The traveller grinned, playing a few chords, perhaps an old melody from his childhood. "It's not a popularly known fact – but part of the reason the Sage was so powerful was _because_ he was the host of a Tailed Beast." He gestured with his chin towards the blonde child. "That brat is the host for the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox, the most powerful of all demons left in existence. If he can learn to use that potential, he'll be damn unstoppable."

"Is that why you want to teach him?" Iruka asked carefully.

"To be honest? Yes," the old man said bluntly. "If I can teach him early, it'll be easier for him to control his power, and we'll all be safer for it."

"But if you start training him early," Iruka argued, straining to keep his voice even, "if you take away the normal life that he leads, isn't that going to turn him into a human weapon? He'll never be treated as the child he is."

The traveller's hands stopped moving on his instrument. He was suddenly very still, but his eyes were sad. "You need to understand something, youngster," he began slowly. "The man who sealed the demon into Naruto _sacrificed_ him to protect this village when the bijuu attacked. Jinchūriki means 'power of human sacrifice'. There is no way that we can treat him like a normal kid. Did you know that to seal a Tailed Beast into a newborn child, a life needs to be given to the God of Death himself?"

The traveller looked up, looking at the blue sky, clouds streaking through it at a leisurely pace. "The Fourth Hokage gave up his own life to save his village," he said slowly, "and Naruto was sacrificed as well to save the people living and breathing in the village today. If I can honour that sacrifice by training the brat, I'll do it."

"So training Naruto is the noble thing to do," Iruka said, sounding sceptical.

"It's the only _right_ thing to do, youngster." The traveller snickered quietly. "Perhaps I'm just a lazy old fool, but like I said: I've got nothing better to do anyway, and I'd prefer teaching a brat to travelling all day on dirty roads in bad weather, thank you very much."

Iruka looked at the traveller, his expression completely deadpan. "So basically, teaching Naruto is more comfortable than travelling."

"Of course," Tabibito said sagely. "I'm getting older, you know. Travelling isn't as easy as it used to be."

"Lazy old bastard," Iruka grumbled.

"If you ever get to my age, you'll see the value of hedonism," the traveller said, grinning widely now, eyes twinkling. Iruka snorted in amusement, and then the teenager doubled over, laughing.

"Uncle, Uncle!" Naruto yelled, running over from the other side of the clearing. "I think I can do it!"

Both heads snapped to face him, jaws agape in surprise. "What?" they asked in unison, convinced they had misheard.

"I think I managed to focus my chakra!" Naruto exclaimed happily, grinning like a loon.

Iruka sighed, palming his face. "Naruto, I told you that telling tall tales isn't nice..."

"I'm not telling stories!" the whiskered four-year old yelled indignantly. "I really did focus my chakra!"

"Hold on, brat; we can check this easily," the traveller interrupted before a full-blown argument could break out, putting his lute to the side while Iruka shook his head, amused. The old man picked up a fallen leaf, stepping towards Naruto. "Okay, brat," he addressed him. "Focus your chakra to your forehead, like I told you to."

The four-year old formed his hand into a seal, scrunching up his forehead as he concentrated. After a moment, the traveller put the loose leaf carefully against Naruto's forehead.

The leaf stuck as if glued there by an unseen force.

The traveller turned to see Iruka, whose jaw had all but hit the ground. The old man grinned as he ruffled the boy's hair. "Well, that clinches it, I think. The brat learned how to focus his chakra in less than four hours. I'll be damned."

"It took me about a week," the teenager said, sounding slightly envious, yet amazed as well.

"So I did well?" Naruto asked, opening his eyes and grinning.

"You did perfectly, brat," the traveller grinned. "But you have no idea how much trouble you're in..."

"What?" Iruka said, his jaw snapping shut as he looked confused. "Why? Learning how to focus your chakra for the first time in such a short period of time is a good thing!"

The old man grinned at the both of them, and this time, his grin had an evil tint to it. "Well, now that we know that Naruto is so good at focusing his chakra, we can speed up his training to a far greater extent than I thought was possible." He chuckled darkly. Naruto and Iruka didn't like this _at all_.

"I hope you don't regret becoming a ninja with me training you, brat," the traveller said, grinning evilly. "It's going to be a tough few next years."

Naruto and Iruka gulped – the boy because of a bad premonition of things to come, and Iruka out of pure heartfelt sympathy.

...

Danzō Shimura hadn't had a good day.

He was also completely aware of the fact that the reason why his day had gone so badly was entirely his own fault. Why, did he ask himself, hadn't he bothered to be more careful?

It was completely normal for the Hokage to always send one or two ANBU members to watch over the Kyuubi brat. It was also completely normal for Danzō to send one of his Root soldiers to watch over the watchers watching the brat and also to keep an eye on the brat himself. The bandaged man had long ago decided that his group would take care of the child in case it became dangerous to the village, even if they had to go against the Hokage's wishes to do so. Protecting the village had priority over everything else.

And so, Danzō, being the underhanded and completely guiltless bastard that he was, had ordered the death of an irritating elderly citizen (a foreigner, no less) who had seemed to take an interest in the young Uzumaki boy. His watcher had told him that the unassuming traveller had easily beaten three trained chūnin in a pure taijutsu confrontation, so he had sent four assassins of his Root group to kill him instead of the customary lone wolf.

He hadn't expected that the four shinobi, all members of ANBU loyal only to him, would all be dispatched that easily. It was an affront, really.

Which is why the retrieval team sent after the killing team interrogated the last two ninja alive using a particularly clever interrogation genjutsu, and then, to avoid leaving any traces that could possibly blab, executed them. A messy affair, but Danzō reasoned that if four corpses were found, and it was connected to the surprisingly combative visitor, then he would be imprisoned for murder, perhaps even executed by the Hokage.

Annoyingly enough, that strategy hadn't worked. In the afternoon village council session, Fugaku Uchiha had washed his hands of the affair, refusing to investigate the incident due to ANBU being, as he put it, "the Hokage's dogs and no one else's business." The Inuzuka clan head had bridled at the man's choice of words, but the Uchiha had shown no remorse at possibly insulting another member of the council – showing his disdain, in fact, for the entire ruling body of the village.

He would have to keep a few more eyes watching the Uchiha clan – their behaviour was worrying, as if they were planning something...

Danzō filed that thought away for later. Now, he was still concerned with the odd traveller that had defeated his men and had got away with it without repercussions. In fact, the day after the incident, the old drunk had gone straight to see the village leader, and then the brat had appeared with his (temporary) guardian an hour later – and after a few minutes, they had all walked out as a group.

And then, most worryingly of all his watcher's observations, they had gone to a training ground, and had begun giving the brat basic lessons in chakra control.

Danzō was disturbed. Sitting in his office in the underground Root base, he was pondering why this old drunk, who had suddenly come into the village without warning, would be entrusted with one of the most important possessions of Konoha. He had expected Hiruzen to allow the brat to enter the Academy at the standard age of eight years old, like all the other village children. He had lobbied his old rival and teammate to let him train the host of the fox from the day he could walk, but Hiruzen had refused, saying that it would have "unintended consequences".

Then why had he accepted the old drunk as a teacher, something that he had refused his oldest friend and teammate?

Danzō frowned and picked up a picture taken by his watcher, holding it up to his single eye. It showed the face of the old man playing a lute in the shade of a tree in the training grounds, talking quietly with a teenage genin whose name escaped the bandaged leader of Root. It wasn't really important.

Danzō picked up the next picture, which was that of the trio getting up to leave the grounds – and if he didn't know any better, he would swear that the old traveller was _winking_ at the camera as he held the happy child's hand. Had he been aware of their hidden watcher the whole time?

Well, perhaps he could understand why this man had been chosen to be the child's teacher...

The leader of Root dropped the picture with a displeased grunt. He had several ways to approach this problem.

One, kill the old man. A deceptively simple solution. However, this was now impossible, thanks not only to the fact that he could presumably kill or capture any assassins sent after him (as he had already demonstrated with the four soldiers sent after him), but that he seemed to have enough experience to avoid any traps and ambushes set for him. And even if he died, his clear connections to the Hokage would result in questions being asked that could reveal that the ANBU Root unit was still active – a potential disaster to be avoided at all costs.

Two, challenge Hiruzen directly in front of the council.

Considering it involved the host of the Tailed Beast, an important asset of the village, it was entirely legitimate to do so. However, Hiruzen could easily counter this by stating that the old man was simply a teacher – the Hokage had enough authority over the whole matter to brush aside objections, and Danzō did _not_ wish to lose face with the council members when he needed it to keep protecting Konoha, even if the civilians' pompous posturing irritated him.

Third, challenge Hiruzen in private.

That was bound to fail. He had a feeling that his old teammate had somehow gotten wind of something going on, and he was probably loath to share information concerning the Kyuubi host. They had already disagreed on how the child was to be used, so why would this argument be any different? Danzō shuffled his notes, his single eye scanning documents before adding them to the 'To be destroyed' pile. Hiruzen cared too much about the child because of his heritage. As if that made any difference as to what the child actually _was_. A weapon.

Four, leave things as they were.

Although he hated to do nothing, that was presumably the best option right now. Although Danzō himself didn't get to train the host, like he would have preferred, the child had still begun his tutelage under a presumably powerful shinobi. And if he avoided antagonizing the mysterious old drunk and the Hokage for a while, he would be able to resume his activities in his usual quiet fashion.

At least the child would be trained early in some way or another. That was something to look forward too, at least – a weapon _would_ be created to be used for the benefit of Konoha.

Danzō stood up with a grunt, picking up the pile of papers, and walked over to the fireplace in his office. He placed the papers in the grate carefully with his one good arm. When he straightened up, he breathed out a gout of flame that consumed the specially treated paper instantly.

He stepped out, looking over his shoulder to check that everything had been devoured by the flames.

The seemingly idyllic picture of the traveller playing his lute hadn't burned yet, considering that celluloid burned slower than the special flammable paper used in Root's headquarters, that irritating wink mocking Danzō even as flames consumed it.

Danzō picked up his cane and walked out of his office to return to his frugal home.

He could bide his time. Age taught you patience.

...

"Uncle..." Naruto yawned sleepily as he clutched Tabibito's hand. "Where are we going? I'm tired..."

"Stay awake for a bit longer, will ya?" the old man grumbled. "I'm looking for a place to stay for the both of us."

"...We're not going back to the orphanage?"

The traveller barked out a laugh. "No, we're not. I don't think they'd let me stay there anyway, I'm a bit too old to play with wooden bricks." He looked at the small child that he was leading along by the hand. "Jeez, you're really out of it, aren't you?"

The little boy nodded, his eyes already drooping. He was barely awake as they walked through Konoha's streets, more hanging off the old man's arm than walking by his own strength.

He had a right to be tired, though, the traveller reflected. He had Naruto run through basic chakra control exercises for a whole day, trying to gauge the child's potential. Tabibito dimly remembered the first time he had moulded chakra – he had been exhausted that day and slept soundly and dreamlessly the night afterwards. That little favour hadn't been granted to him since.

In any case, he thought as he returned his attention to the streets around him, Naruto was completely exhausted. It would take weeks for him to get used to properly channel chakra, even if he had learned it unnaturally fast today. The first step was always the greatest. It would only get more difficult from now on.

Tabibito reasoned that the boy needed a home he could come back to after a long day of training, so that's what he was looking for. Someplace safe.

It was dark already. They had wandered through quite a large part of Konohagakure already and stopped at quite a few inns in the shinobi and civilian districts of the city, Tabibito looking to play music as the resident musician in exchange for room and board.

Quite a few innkeepers and restaurant owners had looked interested in the lute player right until they realized that Naruto was with him. Most had politely shown them the door. Others had been far less restrained in their refusals. Tabibito had been tempted to kick in their heads, but decided that Naruto didn't need the trouble.

So now they were walking around aimlessly, having somehow found their way into Konoha's red light district, the red paper lanterns hanging outside the entrance to the brothels lighting the way through the darkened streets, carousing civilians staggering drunkenly home or on their way to the next bar.

The _akasen_ was an odd place in Konoha. Most cities that enjoyed large trade revenues had one, some larger and more famous than others (Tafuku Gai being an example), but they were all uniformly filled with gambling halls, brothels, bars and restaurants where shinobi, samurai, and soldiers, along with merchants and visiting journeymen, could spend their hard-earned money on food, drink and women (or a few pretty men, if you went to the places that catered to kunoichi). For enough cash, you could buy all the earthly pleasures a man could imagine and more. Quite a few retired ninja ran their own businesses here.

The Hokage tolerated it, if only because he knew that his ninja needed a place to relax. He still kept it under strict supervision – shinobi patrolled the rooftops while the civilian Home Guard went their rounds through the streets, watching out for thieves and cutthroats. Nevertheless, there were enough parts of the district that were overrun with pickpockets and muggers, many of them orphans or gang members. Not to mention that quite a few of the establishments paid their dues to the yakuza. It was a place where the outcasts of society gathered, rejected by the rest of the village.

Tabibito stopped in front of a large building built in the traditional style of Fire Country, the large wooden construction raised several stories above the other buildings until it ended in a gently curved roof. It was magnificently decorated from top to bottom, coloured lanterns hanging over the balconies. There was light inside, mutters and chatter audible through the solid walls and curtained entrance.

Tabibito squinted to read the kanji on the sign over the entrance, dimly lit as it was. _Those are old symbols_, he thought. _Haven't seen those in a while..._

_...The Dancing Dragon. _He snorted. _Pompous name if there ever was one. Oh well. Beggars can't be choosers. _

He nudged Naruto gently. "Come along, brat."

The little boy mumbled something as they continued onwards. A barrel-chested bouncer eyeballed the two of them viciously until he spotted the lute on the traveller's back and grudgingly waving them through the main entrance. The wind chimes hanging in the door jingled merrily as the two entered. Some of the more attentive (and less drunk) shinobi in the room perked up warily. There had been no wind this night.

The inside of the Dancing Dragon was large and decorated in varying shades of red, giving the room a warm and comfortable feel. Shinobi and civilians alike sat around the assortment of tables, attended to by serving girls wearing beautifully woven kimonos. At one end of the large room, a small stage was raised where an unfortunate soul was trying his best to make music on an _erhu_, drawing the bow across the two strings. He wasn't very good at it.

Smoke hung in the air from the Suna waterpipes and cigarettes smoked by the guests, some of the girls keeping their customers far closer company than decency normally allowed. Tabibito reasoned that they were paid more for... extra work.

No need to expose Naruto to _that_ part of life. Yet.

He approached the counter of the bar where a heavily scarred man was cleaning saké cups in a slow and methodical manner.

"Excuse me," the traveller said politely.

The man looked at him and grinned. Or at least that what it looked what he was trying to do, but his scars twisted the expression into an ogre's grimace that would give any child nightmares. It looked as if someone had burned his face off and then decided to chew on what was left, leaving the face mangled and hideous, an unrecognizable mess of puckered flesh and scar tissue. Mercifully enough, the man's scalp was hidden under a bandanna, hiding the rest of his injuries. His eyes were whole, though, and shone brightly as they settled on a potential customer.

"Hullo there," the man rasped, a deep scratching noise that was barely recognizable as speech. Naruto whimpered and hid behind Tabibito's legs. "What can I do for ye, old man? A drink? Got some fine Northern brandy here... Or are you looking for pleasurable company? Doesn't matter if you swing one way or the other. The Dancing Dragon has it all and more."

"Does it have a decent musician that doesn't sound like he just gutted a cat and tried to make it sing?" the traveller asked shrewdly, nodding towards the _erhu_ player. "Sounds fucking _agonizing_. And that means something, 'cause I've heard a lot of shitty music in my time."

The man growled in something that could have been either anger or amusement; it was hard to tell. "Think you could do better?"

"Actually, I think I could," Tabibito said smugly, tapping the lute on his back.

"Any good with that thing?" the man's voice grated out.

"I've played my whole damn life, all sixty-seven years of it. I'd say I'm better than good."

The owner sounded interested, having abandoned his saké cups and thinking, considering the unequal pair before him with wary eyes. Tabibito realized that this man knew exactly who (and _what_) Naruto was, but was still unsure as to his decision.

"How about we make this a wager?" the traveller said quickly.

A blink of surprise. "Huh?"

"The crowd here tonight looks pretty bored to me," Tabibito said, gesturing at the attending guests, who all looked varying shades of tired, listless, or slovenly drunk. "If I lighten things up here, we win. If nothing changes, then we lose. Easy peasy."

"Stakes?" the man rumbled.

Tabibito grinned. No immediate refusal, then. Good. "If we win, I want room and board here at the Dancing Dragon in exchange for playing music in the evenings. If we lose, we'll just make ourselves scarce and won't bother you again."

The scarred man laughed, a menacing noise that sounded like boots scratching on gravel. "Wily old asshole, aren't you? You're on. Tell Masaru to get his skinny caterwauling ass off the stage. It's all yours, grandpa. Don't disappoint me."

"Call me grandpa one more time and I'll kick you in the balls so hard that _your_ damn grandkids will sing two octaves higher," Tabibito muttered, irritated. He looked around. "Hold on, I need to put the kid somewhere safe..."

"Give him to the girls other there." The owner waved to two young girls sitting alone at a table, the two of them looking rather bored. "They're free right now. Tell them Hōshi asked their help."

"Thanks, gimme two seconds, okay? Be right back."

He walked over briskly to the lone table, dragging a scared Naruto behind him. The girls (both barely starting puberty, the youngest age children could be sold to brothels owners) looked up from their jug of sake as he approached.

"...Are you a customer?" one asked warily, her brown eyes darting between him and the owner back at the counter.

Tabibito looked at her, expression deadpan as he pointed out the little boy he led by the hand. "Does it look like I'm a damn customer when I'm here with a kid?"

"You'd be surprised," the other, a blond thing with startlingly grey eyes, muttered rebelliously. "Some of the old farts coming in here really have no decency at all. Disgusting."

"Mayumi!" the other said, suddenly sounding scared. She turned towards Tabibito and bowed hurriedly. "I'm terribly sorry, sir! She's always been mouthy like this! Please forgive her! Is there anything we can do to help you!"

"Calm down, girlie," the traveller said, bemused. "I was just wondering if you could take care of the brat while I can play my music." He nudged Naruto to step forward, which the child reluctantly did.

Mayumi narrowed her eyes at him. "Do we look like nannies to you? We're _courtesans_."

"Well, you're not a very polite one," the elder retorted. "Hōshi told me I should ask you for help keeping the brat. Am I gonna have to argue with you lot all night, or what?"

At the mention of the owner's name, the girls' expressions immediately changed from wariness to suspicious acceptance.

_Huh. I'll have to investigate that._

"Well, okay..." the brown-haired girl muttered, eyeing Naruto with a bit of fear. The four-year old could barely stand on his feet, though, his head periodically nodding up and down as he tried to keep his eyes open. Not exactly the monstrously threatening behaviour of a demon bent on a rampage of revenge and destruction. In fact, it looked rather cute.

Tabibito grinned as he gave the sleepy child's hand to the girl. "Just keep watch over him for me, okay? He's knackered, so he won't try to run away, but be careful – he's a tricky one. Er... sorry, what's your name?"

"Shizuka," the girl said quietly as she set Naruto onto her lap, not really knowing what else to do. The boy snuggled into her kimono, making himself comfortable like a cat would.

"Shizuka, good name... Just watch over him for now, all right? Be right back."

...

Naruto was left with two strangers he didn't really know as Uncle Tabi walked off. Naruto felt uncomfortable. Strangers could be nice, but sometimes they weren't. Better be careful.

_I don't think I like this place._ He looked around at the semi-dark room, watching the sullen guests and hearing their quiet conversations over the pungent odour of alcohol and smoke._ The people here are really weird, and it smells funny. _

The little boy sat awkwardly in Shizuka's lap and suddenly yawned. "Sorry, nee-chan..." Naruto muttered. "I'm really, really tired..."

The girl ruffled his hair. It was what she used to do to her little brothers; it usually reassured them. "Hush, that's all right. What's your name?"

"Naruto," he said meekly, looking up at her with a shy smile.

"That's a strange name," the other girl commented drily. "Who named you after a ramen topping?"

The little boy glared at her. "My parents."

Mayumi snorted. "Where are they, then?"

Naruto looked away from both of them, stubbornly fixing his eyes on the traveller walking to the stage. "I don't know."

Shizuka glared at Mayumi. '_Orphan_,' she mouthed, and her friend winced in sudden guilt. "Sorry," the girl muttered unwillingly.

"So..." Mayumi said after a moment, uncomfortable with the silent child. Children at his age shouldn't be that quiet. It was unnatural. "Who's the old man?"

"That's Uncle Tabi," Naruto said quietly, watching as Tabibito unceremoniously booted the _erhu_ player off the stage to raucous laughter and cheers from the guests, making himself comfortable on the man's stool with a wide grin.

"Is he family?" Shizuka asked, smiling at the child. Naruto smiled back uncertainly.

"Don't think so... He's my teacher."

"What's he teach?"

This was one of the important lessons that Uncle Tabi had drilled into him today when they had gone looking for lodging. Naruto remembered. _Be vague. Never tell anyone all that you know._ "All kinds of stuff!" he chirped, hoping that a smile would distract them. It worked.

Suddenly, a few plucked notes sounded from the stage, piercing through the chatter. A pause, and then the same notes repeated themselves. And once more.

By the third repetition, the whole room was silent, staring at the stage. The traveller's aged hands plucked the strings slowly, a low, mournful melody echoing through the darkened room as his hands started to dance across the lute's neck.

Naruto had never heard music like that before – it sounded slow, deliberate, and sad. But it especially sounded... _mystical_. As if they were someplace else. Somewhere under stars and open sky, all alone in the cold night. Somewhere far away from the trees of Konohagakure. Yet, somehow, it didn't sound as if he was alone. Like a temple he'd once visited by himself (he'd snuck in, feeling adventurous), watching the monks chant and meditate as they prayed.

Naruto looked around him. All conversations had stopped, every single guest and courtesan watching towards the stage, some of their expressions revealing nothing, others not even bothering to hide the fact that they were watching the old travelling musician on the stage with rapt attention.

Uncle Tabi didn't even seem to notice. His eyes were closed as he sat in his stool, hugging his lute to himself as he played. He picked up rhythm and speed, and soon his fingers were dancing over the strings, becoming faster and faster until there was nothing but a stream of notes following each other, never slowing, only speeding up, forming a chain of sound that intertwined itself with the others he'd made just moments before and creating something entirely new.

Naruto shivered. It had nothing to do with the cold. The song went for a quite a while; Naruto couldn't tell how long, the melody growing more intricate and beautiful as time passed.

Suddenly, Uncle Tabi stopped playing, the last chord echoing sharply in the silent room. He opened his eyes, and they found Naruto's. For a moment, he held them and smiled.

And then he started playing those same four notes from the very beginning of the song – slow, deliberate, repetitive, getting more and quiet each time. Beautiful.

When he ended the song, the last notes disappearing like a whisper, the whole room just sat there and _stared_.

Before a man who was slightly more drunk than the rest of his friends stood up, swaying as he held his glass high in a toast towards the stage. "Hell yes! That's what I wanna hear!"

Laughter broke out, applause and cheers following soon after. Tabibito bowed as he stood up from his stool, smiling broadly as people called for another song, stamping their feet and whistling.

And it was right then and there that Naruto decided that he would learn to play that thing, come what may. Anything that could make people sad and happy and _laugh_ instead of scowling and angry was worth learning.

Uncle Tabibito obliged the loud calls for an encore and started playing, but this time a fast, cheerful piece, breaking out in song a moment later. The guests seemed to recognize the tune and start clapping and stamping their feet in the rhythm, joining him in the chorus with smiles and laughter and drunken bellows.

Other pieces followed, slower ones, contemplative ones, some of them happy or sad or both at the same time, some that Naruto thought he had heard before, others that he knew he hadn't, some that the patrons sang along with cheerfully and others that they listened to without making a sound. Some told stories of distant lands, others were silly love songs, and others were stories that were told by the mere pluck of the strings, Naruto imagining the tales that accompanied the sounds of the lute.

The little boy never noticed his eyes fall shut. He felt warm, comfortable and safe. Something that he hadn't in a long time.

...

Quiet voices woke him up. He kept his eyes closed, still held in Shizuka's warm arms. The room was strangely quiet except for the girl's breathing in his ear as she held him close. Had all the guests left?

"So, did I win our little bet?"

Naruto pricked his ears. Uncle Tabi was whispering to someone at the counter, but he could still hear him. Strange. Uncle Tabi sounded happy. Why was he whispering, then? Whispers always hid something.

A raspy laugh, and Naruto recognized it as the deep growl of the scarred man he'd seen behind the counter. "Of course you did, ye smug bastard. I haven't had a full house like that for ages, and I sure as hell don't know the last time I sold so many drinks in one night. You're good, I'll admit it."

"So...?"

"I keep my wagers, old man. As long as you play to the evening crowd, you and the boy are welcome here at the Dancing Dragon. I think I have an empty room somewhere on the third floor... Here you go. It was Hina's room, but... well, she won't need it anymore."

"Who is Hina?"

"Who _was_ she, rather." A pause followed. "One of my girls. A customer got a bit too frisky for her liking and she tried to fight him off. Bastard stabbed her with a kunai. Claimed it was an accident, said he was drunk."

"...That's no excuse, especially for a shinobi. Control is essential."

"Yeah, well, let's say that the MPs and the Home Guard didn't find his sorry carcass. Won't bring Hina back, though. She bled out on the floor before I could get her to a hospital. Cremated her just yesterday." The owner sighed, a rattling sound that seemed surprisingly tired. "No matter. You can have her room as long as you keep it clean and do your own laundry. Scullery's in the basement. Here's the key."

A rustle of cloth as something was slipped into a pocket. "Thank you. ...Any other rules I should be aware of?"

Naruto could just imagine the scarred owner's shrug. "As long as you bring no trouble to the Dragon, we have no trouble with you. It's quite a simple rule, really. Everybody here follows it. It makes life... easier for all of us, whether you're a whore, a thief, a shinobi, or if you just want to drown your sorrows. Spirits know that times are tough enough."

"Hōshi-san, do you really don't mind having the boy around?"

"It's _him_, isn't it? Haven't seen him in person before, but some regulars described him, whiskers and all... Fuck the bigoted bastards. As long as you keep to my little rule, I won't hassle you. Break my rule and I'll break you. Doesn't matter if you're a villager or the Lord of Demons himself." The owner laughed, a guttural growl that raised hairs on the back of Naruto's neck. "Anyone gives you trouble because of the brat, tell 'em to make a little visit to Ichirai Hōshi. I'll scare the little shits straight."

"You're not scared yourself? Because of his tenant?"

"Course I am. Who wouldn't be? But you're part of the Dancing Dragon now. For some of my girls, this place is the only home they've ever known. They don't have anywhere else to go. I'll protect whoever lives here, no matter the cost."

"...That's a rather enlightened attitude for the owner of a brothel."

"Heh, perhaps. I used to be a shinobi, you know, until the little incident that rearranged my face forced me to retire. Some of the girls working here were orphans that I raised myself. As long as the boy doesn't harm us, who cares if he's cursed or not?"

Naruto's stomach clenched in fear. He was cursed? Was this why everyone avoided him? Glared at him as if he was bad luck? Why the other children at the orphanage never played with him?

"He's _not_ cursed." Uncle Tabi whispered harshly. Naruto waited silently, unsure, straining his ears to catch the old traveller's whispers. "He carries a burden far greater than any of us can imagine, has since birth. He will have to sacrifice many, many things to bear it, and many others will try to harm him because of it."

"So why are you helping him, old man?" the owner questioned archly. "Just being around him is bad luck, from what you tell me. Why stay?"

A thoughtful pause ensued before Uncle Tabi answered. "Good question... It's the only thing I can do to ease the pain he will feel in the future." A bitter chuckle. "Or perhaps that's my guilt speaking."

"Guilt for what, exactly?"

"You were a shinobi yourself," Uncle said vaguely. "There's always something to regret."

"Ain't that the truth," the owner grunted in assent. "There's always something we did."

"Or something we failed to do... He wants to be a shinobi, you know."

"He couldn't be anything else."

"With his tenant? He has no choice in the matter. It's either that or death, the only difference being the way he is trained."

"Train him well, then. The more he can control himself, the safer we will all be." There was a moment of silence, broken by the scarred owner bidding Uncle Tabi a quiet goodbye. "I'll see you tomorrow evening then, old man. Remember my little rule, all right?"

"I will, Hōshi-san. I'll make sure that Naruto remembers it too."

"Naruto, eh? 'Maelstrom'. Good, strong name. Suits the kid."

As Hōshi moved away towards the stairs, Naruto heard him mutter under his breath. "Let's hope we're not boarding the ship that gets dragged to the bottom of the sea."

Naruto frowned, his eyes still closed. _What did he mean by that?_

He heard quiet footsteps approach and felt a light touch on his shoulder. "Wake up, brat. I got us a place to stay, like I promised."

Shizuka shifted, shushing the traveller. "Hey!" she chided with a whisper. "He's asleep!"

"Really, now? Well, I'll take him up to our rooms now, if you don't mind. Better to sleep in a real futon. A woman's lap may provide comfort, but it sure makes for a lumpy mattress."

Naruto felt himself reluctantly lifted up from Shizuka's lap, carried in Uncle's arms. The man was surprisingly strong for his age, though Naruto thought that he shouldn't be surprised. Uncle was a shinobi, after all. Or used to be, at least.

"You should get some sleep yourself, Shizu-chan," Uncle said quietly. Naruto cracked one eye open slightly to see the young courtesan smile fondly at him.

"I know," she said, yawning peevishly into her sleeve. "I didn't want to wake him up, though. He looked so cute."

Tabibito smiled gently at the girl. "Do you have any siblings? You seem to have a way with children."

"I _had_ a few younger brothers," the girl said curtly, her voice suddenly sharp. "At least before I was sold by my parents to a travelling whoremonger because they couldn't feed another mouth."

Uncle Tabi inclined his head gravely in apology. "Forgive a meddling old man who has forgotten his manners."

Shizuka sighed, tired from more than simply staying awake for too long. "It's alright... My parents were farmers, you see, and I was their only daughter. When a flood destroyed the crops, they had no choice but to sell me. It was either that or let my brothers starve. I left." She chuckled bitterly. "At least I got a high price." She sighed. "Excuse my rudeness. Normally, I'm far more composed."

"You definitely need your sleep, Shizu-chan," Tabibito decided, bowing as deeply as he could with Naruto bundled in his arms. "I bid you good night. And thank for taking care of Naruto."

Shizuka smiled and bowed herself. "My pleasure, oyaji-san. Welcome to the Dancing Dragon."

And a moment later, they were both walking up the stairs of the teahouse, Shizuka bidding them goodnight on the first floor.

"You were listening, weren't you?" Uncle Tabi murmured quietly as they moved up the silent staircase. Naruto tensed in his arms. He'd been found out!

The expected scolding didn't come, however, and Naruto opened his blue eyes to look at Tabibito, confused. The old man looked sad.

"Shizu-chan's fate is far too common, unfortunately," he continued quietly, and Naruto listened intently. "There are far too many people like her in this world. Hunger, famine, war... All take their toll, leaving their victims weeping in despair and mourning." He looked Naruto directly in the eye, grey eyes piercing and insistent. "If you want to become a shinobi, then you will be in the midst of it all. Perhaps you will even cause that pain. Do you really want that?"

The little boy hesitated. "Will I be able to protect Shizu-chan?"

"Perhaps yes, perhaps no. A shinobi's life is always fraught with uncertainty. No one can tell the future."

Naruto thought long and hard, the only sound he heard being Uncle Tabi's slightly laboured breathing, his regular footsteps and the creaking wooden floorboards.

"I can try," he finally decided. "If I get strong, I can at least try to protect her. If I don't learn, then I'll be weak and won't be able to protect anyone. But if I learn, there's at least a chance that I can help someone, right?" The four-year-old child looked up at Tabibito, his eyes fierce. "Am I right, Uncle?"

Tabibito nodded, smiling proudly. "You're absolutely right."

They reached the third floor, and Tabibito quickly found the door to their rooms, a simply three-room affair. A few minutes later, he had laid out a futon in one of them, and Naruto was snuggled deeply in its warmth, already falling asleep as he was tucked in.

Tabibito patted his head gently, smiling. "Sleep tight, Naruto Uzumaki. Tomorrow, your training begins in earnest."

...

The original manga series of _Naruto _was written and drawn by _Masashi Kishimoto_, originally published by _Shueisha_ in 1997, and is still ongoing at the time of writing (May 2012) after sixty published volumes and two different anime adaptations: one simply titled _Naruto_ by _Studio Perrot_ that premiered in October 2002 and ended in February 2007, and its sequel _Naruto: Shipuuden_ (Naruto: Hurricane Chronicles) by the same studio that premiered in February 2008 and is still ongoing at the time of writing. Various tie-in works like novels, video games, and a series of theatrical movies have been published to date.

Again, please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.


	8. Chapter VIII – Just A Normal Sunday

DO NOTE that this story IS NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of _fanfiction_ based on the original work and its associated franchise, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with the Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.

...

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the eigth chapter of _Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox_. I'm still neck-deep in exam preparations, and the only reason I'm publishing this is because it was already written and only waiting on my hard drive. Feedback would be very much appreciated, but don't be surprised if I don't answer your questions - I am really, _really_ stressed right now.

...I am terribly sorry if I come across as being curt and rude, but I have a thousand different things buzzing around in my head, most of them involving my various exam subjects. Gah. Still, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

This is the beginning of a new arc, which I like to call the 'Revelations' Arc. It's the first of three chapters. Tell me what you think.

And to forestall the questions I can already see coming, pairings are **_undecided_**. This chapter is more about the father than the daughter. And they're only kids, people. Don't expect to put 'eternal love' in there right off the bat. It's unrealistic, and I really dislike romantic clichés. Besides, who said that romance was going to be the main focus of this story?

I included a cast list for the main characters, both from the Narutoverse and the OCs, so that people don't get confused. Hope it helps.

Please, enjoy yourself while reading this story, and if you liked or disliked it, be kind enough to leave a review. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

...

CAST LIST:

NARUTO UZUMAKI: Our favourite knuckleheaded ninja. An orphan, he is a childish, notorious prankster and the host to the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox that ravaged Konoha on the day of his birth. Tabibito's student in the ninja arts.

TABIBITO RYOKOUSHA: An old, cranky ex-ninja from the Hidden Sand and old war buddy of Sarutobi's. Now a travelling musician that decided to take Naruto under his wing. Plays the lute and likes the occasional drink. Well, perhaps more than only on occasion.

HIRUZEN SARUTOBI: The Hokage of Konohagakure. Wise and genuinely respected, there is steel honed by decades of war hidden underneath his kindly facade.

HOSHI ICHIRAI: The hideously scarred owner of the 'Dancing Dragon', a large and expensive brothel in Konohagakure's red light district. An ex-ninja of Konoha, he cares for the women and girls in his care like a stern father. He raised many of them when he took them in as orphans.

IRUKA UMINO: An experienced genin in Konoha's service, he helps Tabibito with Naruto's education. Naruto seems him as the big brother he never had.

MAYUMI and SHIZUKA: Two courtesans that live and work at the 'Dancing Dragon'. Close friends, they are the only womanly influence Naruto has in his life, much to Mayumi's annoyance and Shizuka's despair.

DANZO SHIMURA: Head of the ANBU Special Task Force ROOT and Sarutobi's former team mate. A ruthless patriot that will stop at nothing to protect his home.

...

**Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox**

**Chapter VIII - Just A Normal Sunday  
**

...**  
**

Naruto woke up at five o'clock in the morning, as always. He blinked, and then carefully blinked again, his blue eyes quickly scanning his bedroom. It was a nice bedroom – although it was small, it had a window that let in the first rays of sunlight, a bedside drawer, a cupboard, a bookshelf with various textbooks and scrolls and a desk next to it, a few open scrolls and a calligraphy set scattered about it. Next to the door, a lute case with a diminutive instrument leant against the door. Outside, he could already hear the noises of merchants and workers going about their way.

The reason why the six-year old woke up so early (and was extremely suspicious every time he did so) was that his uncle had the annoying habit of waking him up with some sort of prank. Sometimes it was a simple alarm set to blare into Naruto's ears five minutes early, or a sound explosion tag set off right in front of his door.

And that one time Uncle had actually went to the trouble of cooling down a bucket of water with an elaborate water release jutsu and _dumped_ the lot on him. The boy's screams and oaths of revenge could be heard throughout the whole of the Dancing Dragon. Probably even through the whole red light district, in fact.

Rumours were already flying around the grouchy old man's training methods. Occasionally, some of the more decent villagers felt pity when they saw the boy dragging himself through the village after another gruelling training session with scratches on him and scorched or torn clothing, most of the time utterly exhausted.

But today was Sunday. And Sunday was always different.

Naruto got up quietly, stealthily moving to the pile of clothes that he wore for his training, and changed quietly. He quickly put on his miniature belt with the pouches storing his various pieces of training equipment, mostly smaller and blunted versions of traditional ninja weapons.

He opened the door cautiously. Looking left and right, he could see and hear that no one was moving in the apartment he and his Uncle shared. He grinned as he tiptoed into the kitchenette, picking up the preparations he had made the evening before without his uncle noticing (he hoped).

Taking care to avoid dropping the ingredients for his (in his juvenile mind) _evil_ plan, the little blonde boy stole across the living room and put his ear to his uncle's bedroom door. He could hear the old man snoring. If that was remotely possible, Naruto's grin widened even further.

He opened the door and snuck in, seeing the old man lying on his covers. He was still wearing his travelling clothes that he wore outside the house – meaning that he'd simply dropped on his covers in exhaustion (or a drunken stupor) yesterday evening. He was also drooling on his pillow, the smell of saké pungent in the air, especially to Naruto's sharp nose.

Naruto's mischievous expression never left his face as he tip-toed towards his adopted uncle.

Some primal reflex of humanity coupled with decades of working in the most lethal job environment known to man alerted the traveller to the danger he was in. His eyes snapped open, and he was faced with his student looking at him in surprise, holding a bucket of water over his head.

Tabibito glared at the blonde child. "You wouldn't dare," he growled.

Naruto just grinned.

...

"GET BACK HERE, BRAT!" a voice roared furiously, easily heard all over the city streets.

A cheerful child's laugh rang out. "Try to catch me, old man! Exercise is good for rheumatism!"

"NA-RU-TO!"

Naruto increased his tempo as he sped between the suddenly alarmed people passing through the street. It was the only sensible thing to do, considering the old man was hot on his heels. Naruto grinned as he spotted a crossroad ahead and went through a quick series of hand seals. A few shadow clones popped in existence beside the boy and disappeared in all directions.

This was routine for Sunday. For some unexplainable reason, it was difficult for Uncle to wake up early on Sundays. He had tried to explain it to the boy a few times, but Naruto thought that the old man was just trying to conceal his laziness using complicated medical terms that he wouldn't understand.

It didn't really matter to him either: this meant that Sunday was Naruto's only window of opportunity to get revenge for the pranks and torture (training, Naruto corrected absent-mindedly as he leapt over an ox cart, its driver swearing at him, it was called training) he endured during the rest of the week.

Naruto heard a crash and loud cursing behind him and knew that someone or something had collided with the ox cart. He grinned. Being small had advantages when it came to weaving a path through a crowd, even if you had shorter strides than a fully grown man.

However, Naruto's grin fell a bit as he realized that his Uncle was still behind him, probably still dripping wet from that last prank of his. The clones had apparently failed to fool him – not surprising, really, he was clever. He was the one who'd taught him the jutsu, after all. The whiskered boy saw the road end before him, another street intersecting it perpendicularly.

Instead of slowing down and going left or right, trying to hide in the crowd, he simply weaved through the stream of surprised passersby, jumping high to grip a window ledge on the first floor of the buildings facing him. Immediately, he started climbing up the front of the three-story house, finding hand- and footholds in cracks of the solid wooden framework common in the architecture of Konoha. He threw a look over his shoulder, which suddenly spurned him to go far faster in an absolute panic. "Not good, not good, not good..."

Tabibito had a few more difficulties barrelling through a crowded street than Naruto did: he was taller, bigger, and a child wasn't repeatedly called out for running too fast; but in no way did that mean that he couldn't keep up with the ridiculously fast six-year old. Instead of simply dodging through the crowd, which was made easier by the child's small size, he did the next best thing by pushing them out of the way, speeding through the crowd as he looked for the shortest route to his diminutive target.

This resulted in a furious old man chasing after the small prankster, his travelling cloak billowing dramatically behind him as he cut his way through the crowd, his clothes and hair soaked and the wrath of gods in his eyes as people scattered left and right in their panic to get out of his way.

Naruto didn't know it yet, but this was excellent evasion training. The genuine fear was just added motivation.

He managed to get to the roof in a panicked last-minute dash, leaping away across the city to avoid the terror he knew was coming behind him. He spotted a surprised ANBU soldier on the roof and threw him a cheeky grin as he dashed past him over the rooftops. He could hear the noise of the old man rapidly climbing up behind him. A moment later, he could hear fast clattering footsteps on the wooden roofs as Tabibito chased after him.

Naruto increased his pace, whooping as he leapt from the roof over a crowded city street, landing on the other side in a perfectly executed roll, tiles cracking as he impacted, immediately continuing his mad dash across the city roofs. Behind him, he could hear the angry footsteps behind him pause for a moment as Uncle sailed through the air before landing on the roof behind him with a grunt.

Naruto grinned. Uncle's training might be harsh, but it was still a lot of fun. As soon as he could, the old man had started to teach him how to climb up buildings and trees: how to keep your foothold, how to find leverage on nearly anything, how to land in a roll after you fell from a great height, how to quickly assess the environment around you.

Naruto took to it like a fish to water, and soon the 'parkour training' simply involved him increasing his speed as he found his way anywhere across the city with ease. Uncle always had interesting challenges for him, like getting from one point of the city to the other as fast as he could without touching the ground once, or a trial to get to climb up a specific building without any chakra, or he simply chased him across the village while Naruto did his best to shake him off. His uncle might have been as old as the Hokage, but he was still ridiculously fast and agile, making this more than difficult.

The whiskered boy still needed head starts to win those games, and even then he rarely _did_ win, but it took longer and longer for Uncle Tabi to catch him as time went on – this physical stuff came naturally to him.

Naruto jumped again from one building to the next across a village street. As the next building was taller than the preceding one by at least three stories, Naruto flew, arms high, and slammed onto a window ledge. He quickly crawled onto the ledge and grinned at the startled family eating at the breakfast table inside as they looked at him, shocked. "Sorry, you guys! Psychotic old man's hunting me!" He immediately climbed up the rest of the building, leaving the civilians flabbergasted.

"NARUTO!" he could hear the traveller bellow behind him as he crashed onto a window ledge on the story below him. "You're in trouble now! I am _not_ a psychotic old man!"

Naruto refused to answer that statement, considering it would waste the little amount of breath he had right now. With an agility and speed that would have put a monkey to shame, he managed to get to the top of the building, nearly six stories up. Suddenly, as he tried to clamber onto the (relatively) safe surface of the roof, a hand grabbed his left ankle, nearly dislodging his hold and dropping him thirty meters into the street below.

He managed to shake off the grip in a burst of strength driven by fear of Uncle's retribution and a teeny bit of chakra and clambered onto the roof. Unluckily, he realized that the old man had caught up to him, cutting off Naruto's escape routes while chortling maniacally. "Gotcha, brat." He assumed one of his odd taijutsu stances, cackling. "Fancy a little warm up?"

"There's no way I'm getting out of this without being beaten black and blue, is there?" the boy asked, expression deadpan as he shifted into a stance of his own erratic style.

Tabibito grinned mischievously. "Nope."

Naruto's blue eyes twinkled with good humour as they began circling each other on the roof, his own grin widening. "One would never think that an old man like you would act so pettily about a kid's prank!"

Tabibito glared at him. "If said prank involves me soaked to the bones when I could get rheumatism, I think I'm allowed to get revenge, don't you agree?"

"Rheumatism is your excuse for _everything_ when you don't want to work, Uncle," Naruto quipped cheerily.

Tabibito stopped on the roof, his face falling as realization hit him. "Oh, sweet gods," he muttered. "You're absorbing my sense of humor. This could be bad. Spirits, you might even become _sarcastic_. The horror..."

"What's 'sarcastic' mean?" Naruto asked, frowning.

"One of the greatest tools of any adult," the old man sighed, the wind whipping around the both of them as he charged forward. "You'll need it at some point, trust me."

A crowd was beginning to form below as people congregate to watch the crazy taijutsu battle escalate a good hundred feet above them. Both the child and the old man were fighting on the very edge of the roof, dodging each other's blows and kicks fluidly, each failing to hit the other.

"Are they insane?" a large worker said incredulously to his partner as he watched the whiskered child dodge a spinning kick that could have easily sent him tumbling to the street below. "Is he actually _trying_ to kill the brat?"

"Nah," his friend said casually, although he was equally fascinated. "Apparently they try to kill each other every Sunday of the week."

"What? It's _routine_ for them?" a trader asked disbelievingly. Above, Tabibito was kicked in the stomach by Naruto, sending him reeling backwards. Another merchant winced in sympathy before he answered.

"Have you ever heard the way he trains the brat?" the man said, shaking his head. "He works the boy ragged from six in the morning to nine in the evening _every day_, and he's not exactly gentle about it. I heard rumours that there's a betting pool in ANBU on how long it will take for the brat to snap and murder the old man in his sleep."

"Well, he _is_ the demon brat..." someone muttered uncomfortably as they saw the six-year old getting punched by a one-two-three combination that would have felled any normal child. The blond brat just fell on his arse to minimize the impact, rolled backwards onto his feet, and charged back in with a wide grin on his face. "But still, don't you think this is a bit excessive?"

"Children shouldn't be treated that way..." a well-clad woman muttered as the fight continued, eyes glued to the acrobatic jumps and leaps performed by the small boy, allowing him to equal the old man's greater reach. "This is just cruel; a child fighting against an elder..."

"Bah," another man grumbled. "Let the demon play; he deserves every single beating he can get..."

Up on the roof, Tabibito and Naruto were having the time of their life, although the old man would never admit it willingly. As they sparred, they moved rapidly, open palms slapping away punches or grappling for holds, arms and legs blocking blows and kicks aimed at sensitive nerve clusters of the body as they tried to find an opening.

Tabibito couldn't help but grin. The brat was an absolute natural at using violence – he wasn't afraid to hurt others to protect himself from harm, and he also didn't have any qualms about taking hits in a fight if it gave him an advantage. Although he still liked to eat ramen, continuous physical drills, mental exercise and a supplemental diet of vegetable and fruit in the Dancing Dragon tea house in the last one and a half years had given him the lithe body of a dancer; a muscular body built for speed and agility with quite a lot of power. When he hit puberty and put on more weight, he would be nearly unstoppable using the acrobatic and martial skills he already had at his disposal now.

Tabibito jumping back as he avoided a swift front kick that could have possibly broken his kneecap, and tried to hide his satisfied smile. So far, he was winning this little bet between Hiruzen and him... As he had thought, the brat had a ridiculous amount of potential. And most of that potential had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the fuzzball sealed into the boy's stomach, but rather with the fact that he studied hard, was unusually determined, never gave up, and always cracked a joke or laughed about whatever crazy situation he had gotten himself into this time.

And he, a grouchy old man, was distilling all that potential into the perfect shinobi, and that child was barely six years old.

Naruto charged at him again to try and land another blow; however, he stumbled over a cracked roof tile and Tabibito could see the momentarily dumbfounded expression on the whiskered boy's face as he lost his balance. In his adrenaline-enhanced perception, he felt he could see the blonde brat in slow motion as he fell off the roof, his blue eyes widening in panic as he began the drop to the street below.

_Well_, the traveller thought as he launched himself after Naruto while his hands were already forming seals in rapid succession, _perhaps we still have some kinks to iron out first before the 'perfect shinobi' thing_.

...

Hiashi Hyūga was in mourning.

Well, according to the tradition of the Hyūga clan, the period of mourning for a treasured relative (such as a brother, a child, or a wife) was a year; not a day more and not a day less. It wouldn't be becoming for the heir to one of the most powerful clans of Konohagakure to betray weakness, so he had discarded his clothes of mourning a long time ago.

Nevertheless, his heart was still bleeding three years after the death – no, _sacrifice_ – of his brother.

Hiashi had decided that on a Sunday, he would take his youngest daughter Hinata to take a walk around the village. It was preferable to training her in the clan's traditional taijutsu style, especially when the weather was so nice in autumn. He was walking along a crowded street with his daughter's small hand clasped in his own, a member of the branch house following them at a respectful distance.

As he passed, the villagers stepped out of his way respectfully as they spotted the tall man with the impassive expression and the blank, white eyes indicative of the clan's bloodline limit. Some of them bowed, others just respectfully inclined their heads. Hiashi acknowledged none of the signs of respect given to him; firstly because he didn't have to, and secondly because he could feel his daughter's discomfort at being stared at, trying to edge closer to his side without anyone noticing.

He squeezed her hand minutely to comfort her, and she relaxed a little. She looked up at him and he glanced at her with a small smile. She smiled back.

Hinata, Hanabi, and Neji. The three great treasures of his life.

Hiashi cast his mind back to his twin brother, and the remorse that he would always feel until the day he would meet him again in the afterlife. How he'd been cursed at birth to be a member of the branch house, scorned by the main house and eternally damned into subservience; how his son Neji had been branded with the curse seal at the tender age of four, the little child completely defenceless; how Hizashi had decided to save his own undeserving twin brother from certain execution by going in his place after Kumogakure demanded Hiashi's head after he killed the ambassador that had tried to kidnap Hinata for her bloodline.

Despite all the injustice done to him, Hizashi left without regrets, defying his brother's fate and his own curse he was damned with at birth.

Perhaps it was the last act of defiance that utterly shattered Hiashi's belief in the inevitability of his own fate. He had believed that he would have to die to save his own daughter, as fate had decreed as recompense for his actions. He would have gladly done so – his daughter's life was worth _everything_ to him – but Hizashi had decided to defy that edict and gone anyway to save him.

What a senseless waste... He would have been a greater leader than Hiashi, the heir was now sure; decree of fate and the rule of the firstborn be damned.

His thoughts were interrupted as he spotted a crowd gathered ahead, their necks craned upward towards one of the tall buildings on the side of the street. _What is going on? _Hiashi frowned as he tried to read the crowd's emotions using the muscle reading skills his family had taught for generations. _Fear, surprise, apprehension... Odd_.

Suddenly, Hinata spoke, her eyes widening. "Father, look!" she said quietly, wonder in her small voice voice as she pointed towards the roof that had caught so many people's attention.

The older Hyūga looked, intending to humour his child for the moment, and was nearly gobsmacked (or the equivalent for the stoic clan) as he saw an old man wearing a travelling cloak fighting a small blond child that couldn't have been much older than Hinata near the edge of the roof, exchanging blows and evading each others' attacks at a surreally fast pace.

He activated his family's dōjutsu, the Byakugan, granting him clear vision all around him and allowing him to see the fight going on above him in a far clearer fashion than before. His surprise increased even further when he recognized the child, nearly catching his breath in his throat.

Naruto Uzumaki. The child of his old friend and teammate Minato Namikaze, the jinchūriki of the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox, was fighting on a precariously high rooftop.

However, he could easily see that the old man he was fighting was holding back, his attacks far weaker and slower than they possibly could have been. Nevertheless, Hiashi could spot that Naruto was moving incredibly fast for his age and was as easily dishing out damage as taking it, using a rather strange taijutsu style involving acrobatic leaps and bounds, grapples and holds fluidly exchanged with punches and kicks.

_Strange_, he thought and turned to his daughter. To his surprise, she had also activated her Byakugan, the veins around her eyes bulging out, but her pale eyes were wide open in admiration as she watched the two unequal opponents fight.

"Hinata," he addressed her quietly. The little girl started, and looked at her father, realizing he had caught her staring. She immediately dropped her head in shame.

Hiashi's mouth quirked slightly. "Do you want to watch?" he asked her quietly.

Hinata's head shot up and stared at her father in surprise. She smiled a bit guiltily. "Yes, father," she replied quietly, glancing to the roof.

Hiashi smiled again. "Then let's get closer for a better look. Keep using your Byakugan; this should be interesting to watch," he instructed her quietly as they approached the crowd. They were so fascinated with what was happening above them that they missed the Hyūga heir approaching.

As Hiashi and Hinata pushed themselves through the crowd, he could hear the people muttering around them, and his frown increased even further as he could literally feel the fear and loathing of the civilians around him.

"Don't you think that's dangerous? The Kyūbi might come out if he's attacked, right?" someone muttered worriedly.

"I heard that's the demon brat's teacher..." a merchant said quietly, indicating the old traveller.

"Why would anyone teach the demon how to fight?" someone hissed. "That just makes him even more dangerous! Why hasn't the Hokage done anything about this?"

Hiashi could hear most of the crowd muttering in that vein to themselves or their companions in anger and worry. His eyes hardened as he listened to the unjustified ramblings of the civilians, but luckily Hinata's attention was completely taken by the fight high above her, her eyes watching in wide-eyed fascination.

_Good_, the Hyūga heir thought._ It wouldn't do for her to listen to this rabble. As if they could understand the torment a jinchūriki has to go through... _

They had moved to the middle of the crowd to get a better look. The branch house member accompanying them was beginning to get antsy, his bloodline also activated, but rather more concerned with the safety of his charges than the public spectacle. "Hiashi-sama," he said quietly, unheard by the people around them as his face remained impassive. "Please, let us leave this place. I cannot protect you or Hinata-sama adequately in this multitude."

"We will stay here," Hiashi replied coldly. "My daughter wishes to watch."

The branch member hid his irritation well enough, but a twitch of a muscle in his jaw betrayed him nevertheless. Knowing that the heir could see him easily with his activated dōjutsu, he inclined his head by a fraction. "As you wish, Hiashi-sama," he muttered as he scanned the crowd worriedly.

Suddenly, he heard Hinata gasp. He returned his attention immediately to the fight occurring above, and caught the boy tripping over the edge of the roof. It didn't take long for the experienced shinobi to gauge where the boy would be falling, and found to his horror that he would crash directly onto his daughter and himself. There were screams of shock and surprise as the crowd pulled away, and he could easily see the boy's face contort into pure panic as he fell.

With the heightened reaction times that only lifelong training brought, he managed to throw his arms around his daughter and leap away just in time.

There was a loud sound of an impact behind him, the sound of something hitting the city street with a deep sound best described as _thud_.

Hiashi noticed that he was holding Hinata very close to him, his hands clenched white. He looked at her and saw that she was shaking uncontrollably, but was otherwise unharmed. In his shock at seeing the boy's fall and the danger Hinata was in, the Hyūga heir had lost his concentration enough to lose the focus on his Byakugan.

He turned around carefully, his mask schooled into a blank expression, as he pushed his daughter's head into his clothes, obscuring her view. He did _not_ want her to see another mutilated corpse, not after he had already killed her kidnapper in front of her, and prayed to any and all gods and spirits that her bloodline limit was turned off so that she wouldn't, couldn't witness this.

A large dust cloud, thrown up by the harsh impact of the falling child, had formed in the middle of the street. Hiashi was fearful for it to reveal the broken corpse of the child of one of his oldest friends, or, even worse, witness the child's last moments of writhing agony before he died. He'd had enough nightmares about what would have happened to Hinata if her kidnapping had been successful.

What Hiashi did _not_ expect to see was the old man from before curled up into a ball as he held the blond child to him at the centre of a rather large crater. The child was clutching the old man's cloak, his eyes clenched shut tightly. The cloaked man himself wasn't much better off, but his control over his own body's reactions was impressive as he willingly forced himself to calm down.

The crowd was backing away, faces openly fearful as the old man stood up suddenly, holding the blonde child up in the air with only one arm by his collar. "God damn it, brat!" he growled quietly, his voice nevertheless clearly audible to all of them around. "If you _ever_ pull a stunt like that again, I swear that I'll make you dodge me throwing kunai, shuriken, frying pans and anything else I can get my hands on _for a whole week_!"

He shook the shivering boy, who was staring at him blankly before starting to cry openly; probably out of delayed shock, just now realizing that he had nearly died. It was only then that Tabibito realized that while the brat had fought like an extremely crafty adult, he was still just a six-year old child who had just now escaped death for the first time.

Tabibito hugged him to him, burying Naruto's head in his travelling cloak. "It's alright," he whispered into his ear as the boy shook uncontrollably, weeping loudly, occasionally trying to form words, but unable to as they were drowned out by his tears. "I'm here; your uncle's here, brat; everything's gonna be all right..."

People were muttering, casting looks of confusion and worry, and Hiashi could see an emotion in the faces of the people in the crowd that had never been connected to Naruto before: pity, and concern. Some of it was probably just concern about the demon breaking free, but most of it was simple apprehension at seeing a child cry.

_There are few people in the world that could witness a child in pain and remain unaffected_, Hiashi mused as he released Hinata and took her hand, _and those who _are_ unaffected are the real demons sealed in a human form. _

He approached the unequal pair. Luckily, Minato's child had already started to calm down, crying less and less until he only whimpered quietly. The old man holding him close, the one who had called himself his 'uncle', had stopped talking to the child and had begun sending glares at the crowd, who was still staring unashamedly.

"Excuse me," Hiashi addressed the traveller coldly. The man's stormy grey eyes snapped up to meet blank white ones, and held them there.

"What do you want, blank-eyes?" the man asked curtly.

"I want to talk to you about your relationship with this child," Hiashi said icily, diverting his glance for a moment to look at Naruto, who had noticed the newcomers and was looking up at the Hyūga elder, absolutely terrified.

It wasn't unusual when people met a member of the clan for the first time, children reacted especially strongly. Although a great asset in battle due to the bloodline limit's fearsome reputation and the dangerous power it enabled, it unnerved nearly everyone outside the clan. Another reason for the Hyūga to shut themselves off from outsiders. It was difficult to relate to normal people when you were always met with apprehension.

"What about it, blanks?" the man growled as he stood up. Naruto immediately hid behind his legs, trying to get a look around them without attracting Hiashi's glance again. Instead, he spotted a girl his age wearing a rather fancy kimono, standing one step behind her father as tradition dictated.

She blinked at him, surprised. Naruto did as well. She had the same eyes as the tall man with the long black hair, but on her, they didn't look creepy at all.

"I am just wondering what kind of responsible guardian or teacher would allow their charge to be placed in such danger by sparring thirty metres up in the air," Hiashi stated calmly and quietly, although his eyes had narrowed slightly. "That seems extremely irresponsible to me..."

"Well, tough luck, blanks, but this brat here is _my_ student, not yours," Tabibito interrupted, frowning as he held the heir's gaze. "If he does stupid things, I'm the one who takes care of them afterwards. Occasionally, we do stupid things like this together. It's great fun." He paused, turning to face the crowd. "DON'T YOU LOT HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO DO THAN JUST STAND THERE AND GAWK AT OTHER PEOPLE'S MISFORTUNE?" he roared loudly, making everyone except the three stoic Hyūga jump. Even Hinata hid behind her father's legs. Tabibito generously flipped the bird at the bystanders. "FUCK OFF!"

"Your manners are lacking, elder," Hiashi said with a knitted brow as he could see the crowd disperse muttering among themselves.

Tabibito glanced at him sharply, his grey eyes narrowing to slits. "Not much better than yours, Hyūga," he said, voice quietly lethal. "Turn off that bloodline that you call your own, or I swear that I will gouge out your eyes."

Hiashi suddenly realized that he had activated his dōjutsu without even noticing – to use it to look at another citizen of Konoha without good cause was considered a major insult, and many shinobi took it as an instinctive threat, reacting accordingly. _Not surprising_, Hiashi frowned, _when the Byakugan can leave even the most trained ninja helpless and at the mercy of the user if used effectively. _

He caught Naruto cowering behind the old man's legs, and suddenly realized how it must look to the child: he had just made a mistake that nearly killed him and his teacher (whom he seemed to depend on and care for deeply), had attracted the attention of a large crowd, and he was suddenly in the presence of one of the most terrifying members of a powerful shinobi clan with an appearance and demeanour that usually chilled the blood of trained soldiers on the battlefield. No wonder the little blond child was acting as if he was going to run away at any moment now.

Hiashi sighed as the veins around his eyes receded again, his vision returning to normal. Scaring a child was not enjoyable in the least. Minato had been right; he had absolutely no tact at all when it came to understanding others. Even when he was trying to.

"Is it possible to speak in private?" he said bluntly to the man Minato's child called 'Uncle'. His usual diplomacy wouldn't work with him, considering the way he addressed the crowd. 'Fuck off' indeed. Crude, but rather effective.

"Why?" the cloaked man asked suspiciously. Naruto peered around his cover to look at Hinata, who was staring back with as much decorum as the little six-year old could muster. The adults ignored them, staring at each other.

"Vessels and the things they hold can be very different things, yet one cannot exist without the other," Hiashi said carefully. "Have you ever wondered if water changes when it enters a different container? Remaining the same, yet changing its shape..."

Naruto blinked, distracted by the strange saying, and looked up at the Hyūga heir in curiosity. Hinata did the same, but managed to hide it far better, her questioning look directed at her father ignored as the two elders stared at each other for a while.

The old traveller broke eye contact first, sighing as he gripped his forehead. "Fine," he said, sounding pained as he kneaded the bridge of his nose. "Third training ground. That's where we usually train; you are _both_," and here he looked at Hinata for the first time with a kind smile, grey eyes twinkling, "welcome to find us there."

He bopped Naruto's head lightly. "Try to catch up, brat." Before the boy's blue eyes could even widen in amazement, the traveller had started to run and clambered up a facade onto a roof, disappearing from view.

"Um, well, I gotta go..." Naruto mumbled, unsure what to do without his Uncle's protection as both Hyūga turned to look at him. "I'll see you later!" he said, grinning widely as he hurriedly started running towards the training ground, waving at the two of them over his shoulder. A moment later, he had disappeared into a smaller side street.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hiashi could see his daughter still stare at the street long after the boy had gone.

_Interesting..._

...

The three Hyūga approached the Third Training Ground, a large wooded area with a river flowing through it, surrounded by a mesh fence four metres high. It was popular amongst the shinobi population of Konoha; it was a place where nearly every kind of tactical manoeuvre and jutsu could be practiced.

It was also popular because of the village's memorial stone standing right in the middle of it. Standing tall and proud in a clearing, the black edifice had the names of all shinobi killed in action chiselled into its surface. Often, there were candles, flowers or sticks of incense lying in front of it, and it wasn't unusual to find a shinobi or two just standing there, quietly mourning the dead.

Hizashi's name wasn't on it. He hadn't honourably died in battle.

As they approached the training ground, Hiashi turned to the branch house member accompanying them. "Stay here," he ordered coolly.

"Hiashi-sama, I can't let you go into the company of that boy alone-" the man began, his temper obviously rising, but well hidden.

"Please," Hiashi said softly. "It's important to me." Hinata looked at her father quizzically. Her father rarely asked politely when speaking to a member of the branch house. It wasn't required, nor expected.

Well aware of that fact, the branch member's mouth hardened into a line, his eyes conflicted. Then he relented, and bowed. "As you wish, Hiashi-sama," he said, his tone worried.

Hiashi and Hinata continued into the woods. It was autumn now, and the leaves were starting to lose their green colour, turning yellow and brown, the cool wind starting to pick a few off, one by one. Again, Hiashi was holding his daughter's hand, walking slowly so that she could keep up.

"Father," Hinata said quietly, dragging Hiashi out of his reverie. "Why is Kanato-san worried?"

Hiashi looked at her, puzzled. "Who is Kanato-san?"

His daughter looked up at him, and he thought he could see disapproval in her face. "The branch house member that came with us."

"Oh." Hiashi returned to look at the path as they reached the tree line. That's right; he had forgotten the young man's name. Embarassing. Kanato, was it? "Well..." he began, looking for the right words. "Kanato-san is worried about me talking to the old man we just met. You saw that he was pretty rude."

"That's not true," Hinata said quietly.

"Excuse me?" her father said, glaring at her. "Are you telling me that I'm a liar, Hinata?"

"Kanato said something about a 'boy'," she replied, her eyes downcast. Her father could be terrifying when he was angry. "He's not worried about the old man."

Hiashi stared at his daughter, stunned. Although she was only six years old (or perhaps because of it), he sometimes forgot how observant his daughter could be.

He chuckled once, and smiled as his daughter looked up. "It's a secret," he said quietly. "I can't tell you about it."

"Yes, father," Hinata said, a bit disappointed. She had very quickly learned the value of secrets, considering the way the hidden techniques of the clan were treated by its members. Holding and betraying secrets could be dangerous. It could get your family killed.

"All I can tell you is that it involves the boy you just saw, Hinata," Hiashi said, looking at the path again. "If you ever see people looking down on him, it's because of that secret. It's because they don't understand, because they let fear rule their hearts."

Hinata remained silent. The Hyūga were often regarded with fear, and it wasn't pleasant. She could sympathize.

"He's very unfortunate because of the burden he bears." The clan heir glanced at his daughter. "He doesn't know about that secret himself, so promise me that you won't talk to him about it."

"I don't even know him, father," she replied quietly, although she seemed saddened by that fact as she held her father's hand.

Hiashi smiled quietly to himself, looking away at the yellowed canopy of leaves so that she couldn't see his expression. "Who knows? Perhaps you'll get to know him better."

They approached the clearing, and suddenly they could make out a voice talking loudly. Hinata recognized it as the old man's; loud, grumbling, and sounding perpetually tired. She became curious as she spotted the old man in his travelling cloak and the blonde boy from before. They were both standing in front of a tree, the old man talking and the boy listening intently.

Hiashi and Hinata stopped, waiting at the edge of the clearing. It would be rude to interrupt training.

"Now, brat," the traveller lectured, "because of your epic screw-up today that nearly killed you, me, and the innocent people you nearly squashed with that thick skull of yours," here the boy glanced away sheepishly, "we're going to start some chakra control exercises that will allow you to avoid splattering yourself all over the place if you fall again."

Naruto grinned a bit at the image. Black humour was just one thing that shinobi got used to early, besides the harsh training and killing. Just one way of coping with the horrors of the business without going insane, and many ninja did so despite all coping mechanisms.

"Now, brat, so far, I've just been teaching you how to focus your chakra in a few specific body parts to speed you up when we spar, and to move around faster and climb easier. Brilliant stuff; your chakra control's not bad and you learned it pretty quickly; I was impressed." Naruto grinned proudly, but the old man dismissed it with a wave. "Meaning you've done jack shit until now."

Naruto's childishly outraged expression was incredibly amusing to watch, Hiashi realized with a smirk.

The old traveller grinned at Naruto. "_Now_ the fun starts." He approached the tree and formed his hand in a simple hand seal. "What seal is this?" he asked the boy.

"Tiger seal, or _Tora_," the little boy answered immediately, eyes narrowed as he already tried to work out what his uncle was trying to tell him.

The traveller chuckled. "Now, if you just focus your chakra to your feet – you should already know how to do this, considering how long I had you make those leaves stick to your head – you should be able to do _this_." And with that, he casually walked up the tree.

After a while, he was hanging upside down a branch. He grinned at Naruto, which looked _really_ weird because his face was also reversed. "So, brat? What do you think?" he asked, his grey-haired ponytail bobbing as it hung down.

Naruto looked up at him, expression deadpan. "You look like a giant bat."

The traveller nearly fell off the tree and broke his neck. "Pardon?" he gargled, hanging on by his toes.

"Your cloak makes you look like some sort of weird overgrown bat," Naruto repeated, unimpressed. "But the tree walking bit is cool!" he added quickly.

"Are you humouring me, brat?" the traveller glared. The intimidating effect was reduced by the fact that he suddenly realized how bloody ridiculous he looked as the cloak hung upside down. 'Overgrown bat' indeed.

"I might be..." the blonde child said sheepishly, grinning.

"Stupid ramen-loving pranksters and their stupid jokes and sarcastic attitude and clones and..." the old man groused as he cancelled out the chakra in his feet, turning in his fall to land on his feet. He straightened up, looking at the grinning child with annoyance. "All right, you need a good balance of chakra for this stuff, brat. Too much and you'll blast right off the surface; not enough and you won't stick to the bark.

"You also have to _keep_ concentrating, a constant stream of chakra," he stressed, "otherwise you might fall off while you're up in the tree. And then we might have another splat." Naruto shuddered. "Remember those rolling exercises that I taught you in case you fell from something high?" Naruto shuddered even more at the recollection of _those_ exercises. They hadn't been fun _at all_. Although you got used to falling from a roof after the first few times, it was still terrifying. "Keep doing that. You got all that, brat?"

"Not too much chakra, but not too little either, and it has to be a constant stream, so I have to concentrate," the six-year old repeated with a furrowed brow, and then nodded brightly. "Okay! I guess I can do that!"

"Good," the traveller grinned, shaking a fallen leaf off his shoulder. "But before that, I think we should say hello to our visitors, don't you think?" He turned around and raised his voice. "Oi, Blanks! Get your pale ass over here!" He gestured to them to come closer, grinning to show that he'd been joking.

Hiashi frowned as he approached the pair. "I would like you to refrain from using such words in my presence and that of my daughter, elder."

The man snorted. "If you keep calling me 'elder', I'll continue trying to find rude nicknames for you." He grinned wickedly, one eye winking at the little girl, who shrank back. "It's so much fun; I might not stop doing it anyway," he mused.

"What shall I call you, then?" Hiashi asked as he tried to ignore Naruto and Hinata staring at each other. Well, Naruto was staring, probably intrigued by her pale lavender eyes. The little girl hid it far better, but she was also getting distinctly uncomfortable.

At Hiashi's question, however, the boy turned to grin at him. "That's Uncle!" he exclaimed, pointing at the old traveller.

Hiashi frowned. Minato had been an only child, and also the last of the Namikaze family. His friend's father had drunk himself to death, hadn't he? "Uncle?" he repeated, quietly flummoxed.

"Yup!" the boy grinned.

"Say, blanks, does your adorable little daughter here know how to treewalk?" the old traveller interrupted, grinning again at the little girl. Hinata blushed lightly. He seemed nice, even if he did call her father 'Blanks'.

...

"So, tell me," the traveller sighed as he sat down against a tree on the other edge of the clearing. "What exactly does the heir to the great Hyūga clan want from an old man like me?"

Hiashi looked at him, disbelief in his eyes. "An 'old man'? You are seriously introducing yourself as an _old man_ after the stunt you pulled in the middle of the street?" he asked disbelievingly.

Tabibito scratched his nose. "Doesn't change the fact that I'm an old man, Blanks."

Hiashi frowned. "I would prefer it if you didn't call me that."

"Why not? Doesn't it annoy you to be called 'Hiashi-sama' all the time?" the man answered back with a cheeky grin.

Hiashi breathed out carefully. The man had an interesting point. "Uncle, wasn't it?" he said.

"S'right," the man acknowledged with a shrug. "My name's too long for the brat to say all the time, so he just calls me 'Uncle', or 'Uncle Tabi'. Kind of sweet, really. Kid's still annoying as all hell, though."

"Is that so?" Hiashi said drily.

They both watched the two children talk to each other on the other side of the clearing. Naruto was enthusiastically chatting to Hinata, gesturing all the time with his trademark goofy grin on his face. Hinata, on the other hand, was more or less stunned, probably trying to work out what to do or say and not getting a word in edgewise, twiddling her fingers.

"Bit shy, isn't she?" the traveller asked with an easy grin. Hiashi refused to rise to the bait. He would _not_ discuss his own daughter with a complete stranger.

Instead, he watched as Naruto began his attempts to walk up the tree. He managed three steps running up before falling as his feet blasted from the tree. He managed to twist quickly in the air, and landed on his feet. Hiashi was intrigued.

"That's his first time attempt at tree walking?" Hiashi said, impressed despite himself. "That's not bad, not bad at all."

The traveller grinned. "The brat has a ridiculous amount of chakra, so I decided that I'd better start him off on chakra control exercises right off the bat – it'll be natural for him to control if he starts young. If he still wants to build up his chakra reserves, well, it's like physical exercise. He can do that later all the time." A shrug. "Still, he has trouble with techniques that need very little chakra or great chakra control, like the normal transformation and other illusions."

"Reverse Chakra Control Theory," Hiashi muttered. "If a person has greater natural chakra reserves, the lower his or her innate chakra control will be."

"Is that what they call it now? Reverse Chakra Control Theory?" Tabibito repeated, trying the word out. "Doesn't exactly roll of the tongue. Perhaps I should visit the libraries here, just to get updated on the theory. Well, we had a different name in Suna for it when I learned about it, but that was about fifty years ago, I think."

The Hyūga heir tensed. "You're a Suna shinobi?" Hiashi said carefully.

"Missing-nin," the traveller said cheerfully.

Hiashi just stared. "Being an exiled traitor and wanted criminal is even worse than being from a foreign village, you know."

"Well, it's a bit more difficult to find a cure for rheumatism, but travelling and constantly running away from paid assassins is very good for your health," Tabibito said sagely. "Keeps you spry."

"It also decidedly shortens one's lifespan," Hiashi said bluntly.

"In in my sixties. A longer lifespan is not something I'm exactly looking forward to."

"I'm very sure that you will regret those words one day – tempting fate is unwise in our business," Hiashi replied drily.

"I'm not stupid enough to foreshadow my own death, youngster," the man snorted in amusement. "You've read too many badly-written stories, if you ask me."

They watched as Hinata started to calmly walk up the tree, Naruto watching with wide eyes of amazement. When she reached the top, she looked embarrassed, but he cheered enthusiastically for her. The two adults couldn't understand what he said exactly, but his wide gesticulations probably showed how impressed he was. Hinata seemed equally embarrassed and pleased.

Tabibito whistled. "I have to say, that's amazing chakra control she has," he commented. "How old is she?"

"Hinata is now six years old."

"Like Naruto then." The traveller grinned wickedly. "Think we can hook them up?"

Hiashi's head whipped around so fast that he thought he cracked a few vertebrae. "_What_ did you say?" he hissed.

"Sheesh, the rumours were true," Tabibito muttered. "The Hyūga really have no sense of humour." He reconsidered. "But you care about your daughter, at least."

Hiashi rubbed his neck, realizing that he'd walked right into that one. Perhaps he deserved the pain he felt right now. Losing your composure, however slightly, was dangerous.

"Lighten up, Hiashi." The traveller grinned at him, grey eyes twinkling. "I mean no one in Konoha any harm, least of all the Hyūga clan and the pretty girl that'll take it over someday."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"The Hokage trusted me enough to allow me to teach one of the greatest treasures of this village." Tabibito smiled as he looked over at Naruto. "He's my student. I won't betray him, or the village he loves so dearly."

"A treasure of Konoha," Hiashi muttered as he saw the two children try to climb up trees. Naruto had managed to reach one of the lower branches, but it snapped off due to his weight. He fell, landing awkwardly on his back. Hinata was watching worriedly from her perch in her tree, looking like a frightened bird, but he immediately started laughing as he grinned up at her.

And then Hiashi saw the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on his daughter's face as she smiled back at Naruto, relieved that he was all right.

Hiashi smiled gently, in the manner befitting the Hyūga. "A treasure indeed." He turned to Tabibito again as the children continued to climb trees. "You are the boy's teacher, then? Is he skilled?"

"Well..." the traveller said, thinking as he scratched his chin, looking up at the sky. "I'll be honest with you, I don't really know. This is the first time I've ever taught someone from scratch, so I don't know if his skills are in any way extraordinary."

"You're lying," Hiashi said quietly. Not an accusation; a simple statement.

The traveller froze completely before chuckling good-humouredly. "I should have never tried to lie to a Hyūga. Damn you muscle-reading bastards."

Hiashi raised an eyebrow in surprise. The traveller didn't seem scared or angry. Usually, reactions to the clan techniques being used on others were far more... violent. In fact, he was taking in all in unusual good grace. "You're not angry?"

"You mean the brat no harm, that's obvious," Tabibito replied. "And if you meant to harm me, Hiashi-kun," he smirked when he used the familiar address, grey eyes sharp, "I'm pretty sure I could defend myself."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"So tell me honestly," Hiashi prompted, "how skilled is the boy?"

"Incredible," the traveller answered honestly. "I spent a lot of the time getting him used to physical training and sparring, teaching him moves and katas that I learned in my travels. The kid's a naturally born acrobat, so I decided to teach him parkour too, just so he could move around quickly without actually using chakra." He chuckled ruefully. "Thanks to all that, I have trouble keeping up with a six-year old brat when I chase him across the city. I literally have no clue how strong and fast he'll be when he grows older, but he'll probably hit fast and hard at the same time."

They watched as Naruto decided to take a break and simply climbed up to Hinata's branch without using any jutsu at all, as if he was a cat, much to the pale-eyed girl's surprise. He dangled from one branch to another, grinning like a monkey.

"I can't tell you about his taijutsu skills, because so far, he doesn't really have any," the traveller said bluntly. "So far, I've taught him the basic punches, kicks, blocks, and holds, and he uses a lot of jumps and his other acrobatics when he spars with me to increase his reach. We'll need to wait until he grows taller and stronger to see what kind of martial artist he'll turn into."

"It's useless to form him into a style that his body is unsuited for," Hiashi remarked thoughtfully.

"Exactly," the old man agreed. "So far, I let him improvise his own moves. I always push him hard when we spar, so he'll _have_ to improve, but I'm not really a taijutsu specialist – I can always send him to one to work out the inefficiencies in his style when he's older and see what kind of body he'll have in the future."

"Weapons?" Hiashi asked, curious.

"Kunai throwing and close quarter combat, shuriken throwing – both _bō_ and hira – senbon needles, and I think I'm going to teach him how to use a tantō soon," the traveller said clinically, taking out his own sheathed dagger to show it to the Hyūga. Hiashi noted the worn sheath and grip – a well-used and well cared-for weapon. "If he wants to take up the sword later, he'll have a good foundation to work from; if not, he'll be skilled enough to use a weapon with a longer reach and more slashing power than a simple kunai."

"Good thinking," Hiashi acknowledged. He was honestly impressed with the old man's reasoning. The fact that he was so open about his student's abilities showed that he trusted the Hyūga heir, which made Hiashi feel odd. He couldn't exactly place why he felt that way, though.

"Ninjutsu..." Tabibito clicked his tongue. "That's a tricky one. See, his chakra reserves are ridiculously high, and that means his chakra control is naturally difficult to maintain. I don't want to have him injure his chakra pathways by short-circuiting them this early, so I'll just wait until his control is close to perfect to start him training him intensively in the style. I've already taught him a few jutsu to see how he works."

"What techniques did you teach him?" Hiashi asked.

"Just standard techniques they teach youngsters, just so that he can get an idea how to focus his chakra. The Body Replacement Technique, the standard henge, how to focus his chakra to increase his speed, and general chakra control exercises." He paused. "Oh, and the Mass Shadow Clone Technique."

Hiashi was thunderstruck. He blinked rapidly, and his mouth was opening and closing like that of a fish, thinking he had misheard.

"You should see your face; it's quite entertaining," Tabibito remarked with a wry grin on his face. Hiashi's jaw snapped shut immediately as he realized that he, the Hyūga heir, had lost his composure in front of a complete stranger. Again. He rallied himself quickly.

"The Kage Bunshin no Jutsu," he said, his voice still sounding a bit stunned. "You taught a six-year old child a _jōnin-level_ technique."

"He's remarkably clever at using it too. One of the reasons why I always have trouble catching him when I'm looking for him in the village," the traveller grumbled, sounding annoyed. "He can't do the standard illusionary clone; his chakra control is far too terrible by half. Funnily enough, he can do the shadow clones just fine. Eats up chakra like a sponge, but he apparently he has enough to spare."

Hiashi tried to get his thoughts in order and decided to find refuge in sarcasm. "I can't exactly decide whether to admire the child for learning such a technique, or whether I should clobber you for being reckless enough to teach it to him in the first place."

"I'd go for the admiration bit myself, that would spare me a lot of pain," the traveller remarked with a chuckle.

Hiashi snorted lightly, amused despite himself. _Strange_, he thought, suddenly surprised. _I feel as if I'm talking to an old friend. I don't even _have_ that many friends outside the clan, and my family isn't much better._

He looked at the old man as he observed him watching the two children. The way he sat reminded Hiashi that of a hawk. Not like a hawk about to pounce on his prey, but rather like an old, tough animal watching out over its surroundings from a high perch. He'd noticed before that he was old, but now he could see that there was steel in the old traveller's stormy grey eyes.

Hiashi allowed himself a small smile as he returned to watch at the children.

_Perhaps you can't choose your family, but you _can_ choose your friends._

They watched the children play and chat excitedly as they climbed around in the trees.

"Apparently," the old traveller remarked sourly, "my little brat has forgotten that he's supposed to be training, not playing."

"How long does he train every day?" Hiashi asked suddenly.

"From about six in the morning to eight or nine in the evening. Sometimes I take him out in the night for infiltration training. Why do you ask?"

"So you think that having him stop for about half an hour today is going to slow down his training in any significant way?" Hiashi asked sarcastically.

"Yes," the traveller said bluntly. "Training never stops."

Hiashi sighed. "Slave driver."

"Says you. Who's been training their oldest daughter in clan techniques since she could barely walk, from what I heard in town?"

"I am _not_ going to argue with you about this. It'll only end in disaster."

"Shame."

They continued watching the two children play, reserving their right as elders to observe the younger generation. If Hiashi had been less stoic and Tabibito less sarcastic, they would have probably started talking how things were better when they were young. Considering that they had both grown up during wars, they mutually decided that doing so would be a completely inappropriate way to tempt fate.

"Uncle," Hiashi said, grimacing. The title just felt unfamiliar in his mouth. "Have you noticed that Naruto's chakra is unusual?"

"Well, except for the fact that it's abnormally large, it seems pretty normal to me. Anyway, I don't have blanks for eyes to see the chakra pathways in a person, like your clansmen do, so no, I haven't noticed anything unusual."

"Oh." Hiashi thought quickly about how to phrase his next statement. "Did you know that there are two types of chakra in Naruto's body?"

"Yin and Yang, yes," the traveller replied, sounding bored. "Don't we all have that? It's in the very nature of chakra to be both spiritual and physical in nature."

"No. I mean there are literally two types of chakra in his chakra system, his own and another, unnatural one that doesn't belong to him."

Tabibito just stared at Hiashi for a moment. "Care to repeat that?" he said, sounding a bit strangled.

Hiashi stared back, unflinching. "Your student has the chakra of a Tailed Beast in his body, completely uncontrolled."

...

NOTE: At this point in the timeline, Hiashi's father – the clan head before him – is still alive. This makes Hiashi the current clan heir to the Hyuga, not Hinata. She just happens to be next in line; she is not actually the heiress. Yet. Hope that clears things up.

...

The original manga series of _Naruto _was written and drawn by _Masashi Kishimoto_, originally published by _Shueisha_ in 1997, and is still ongoing at the time of writing (May 2012) after sixty published volumes and two different anime adaptations: one simply titled _Naruto_ by _Studio Perrot_ that premiered in October 2002 and ended in February 2007, and its sequel _Naruto: Shipuuden_ (Naruto: Hurricane Chronicles) by the same studio that premiered in February 2008 and is still ongoing at the time of writing. Various tie-in works like novels, video games, and a series of theatrical movies have been published to date.

Again, please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.


	9. Chapter IX – 'Bout The Good Old Days

DO NOTE that this story IS NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of _fanfiction_ based on the original work and its associated franchise, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with the Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.

...

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the latest chapter of _Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox_. A great and warm thank you to all of you who read this story, and a special thanks to all of you who reviewed. It cheered me up immensely to know that people are enjoying my work.

In recent news, my exams are over! That means I will have more time to write, and I will update all of my stories in the next few days. Thank you very much for your understanding of my temporary hiatus; you will not regret it.

This chapter is mostly a conversation between Tabibito and Sarutobi. There's some Naruto/Hinata interaction as well, if that's your thing. Tell me what you thought!

Please, enjoy yourself while reading this story, and if you liked or disliked it, be kind enough to leave a review. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

...

**Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox**

**Chapter IX – Talking 'Bout The Good Old Days**

...

The two elders had decided to sit on the other side of the clearing, leaving Naruto and Hinata to look at each other in silence, not exactly knowing what to do. Hinata began twiddling her fingers, a nervous habit that she had adopted when her father glared at her.

Naruto's adopted big brother was teaching him all the things that Tabibito couldn't do very well, like history, or maths, or how to read and write kanji, or common etiquette and politeness. Although Naruto took like a fish to water to the taijutsu and chakra exercises, it was far more difficult for him to understand bookish subjects or how people were supposed to interact around each other. It drove Iruka up the wall that a child that learned martial arts as easily as Might Guy had difficulties with more mundane things, like how to sit seiza or how to politely address an elder.

The etiquette lessons were far too complicated in his opinion when "I can be everyone's friend!", as Naruto put it. Tabibito and Iruka had both palmed their faces at that exclamation, though Naruto didn't understand why. It had taken a while (and quite a few of Iruka's nerves), but the lessons had stuck at some point.

So Naruto introduced himself by bowing, showing respect by doing it first. "Hi!" he said to the nervous pale girl. "My name's Naruto Uzumaki! Pleased to meet you!" He straightened up, grinning at her in a friendly way.

"Um..." Hinata stuttered, flushing in embarrassment as she bowed as well. "My name is Hinata Hyūga! I'm very pleased to meet you as well!" She straightened up, nervously looking at the boy in front of her, who was still grinning, not offended at all that she hadn't shown proper respect.

The boy relaxed, quite happy that he could throw protocol to the winds now that introductions were over. "Hinata? That's a pretty name. What's it stand for?" he asked curiously.

"It means _sunny place_," Hinata answered awkwardly.

"That's so cool!" Naruto exclaimed. "I'm named after something they put on ramen, did you know that? I think it'd be insulting, but ramen is so good that I can't really complain about it! Do you like ramen too?"

And so he started jabbering about all the things about all the things he liked, starting with ramen and continuing with his big brother Iruka, Teuchi-san, ramen, visiting Ichiraku's, Uncle Tabi, gardening, ramen, training with Uncle Tabi, and ramen.

All the while, Hinata just listened, horribly confused. She was used to people speaking as little as possible to her, keeping their distance, but also watching her every move like a hawk. Because she was the eldest child of the Hyūga heir, she was always observed by the other family members at the clan estate, and if she left the compound (only in the company of her father or a chaperone from the Branch House) she was always stared at, never spoken to. The clan had to appear strong to the world outside the compound. Weakness was dangerous.

Other children tended to stay away from her – mostly because of her family's characteristic blank eyes, which were admittedly weird enough to scare most adults, let alone children. And her cousins tended to stay away from her as well – the Branch House members, including Neji, were resentful because of their forced servitude, and her Main House cousins kept their distance as much as they could, partly out of genuine respect and partly because of the machinations of the clan elders they were loyal to. It wouldn't do to get caught up in a clan elder's plot without knowing about it.

So here she was, faced with the first person her age that had ever spoken normally to her. It was exhilarating and scary at the same time, and Hinata had absolutely no clue what to do. Showing respect to an elder at a clan meeting was something entirely different than talking to a hyperactive six-year old blond. For starters, Naruto didn't let her get a word in.

Reflexively, she started nervously twiddling her fingers again while looking down, unsure what to do.

"So I decided that I was going to be Hokage someday!" Naruto exclaimed with glee after talking for several minutes. "So I've been training with Uncle Tabi for a while, and I can already do a lot of cool stuff!" His face fell, and Hinata thought for a moment that she had somehow insulted him, but he was just staring at the tree, deep in thought. "I still have a long way to go though."

He turned to her, grinning again. "So, Hinata," he asked, curious. "Do you know how to walk up a tree?"

Hinata refused to look up, still twiddling her fingers nervously. "F-father is teaching me," she said softly.

Naruto kept grinning. "So you know how to do it? That's so cool!" He jumped up and down excitedly. "Can I show you what I can do so far? Then you can tell me if I'm doing it right!"

Hinata's fingers stopped moving as she looked up at Naruto, surprised. "You want me to help you learn?"

"Sure! Uncle told me the basics, but it still seems kinda complicated. If you can already do it, then you can help me get better." He pointed at the tree. "I'm going to try it now. Okay," he muttered as he walked back to a good running distance from the trunk. "What'd the old man say again? Not too much, but not too little chakra..."

Naruto kept muttering this mantra to him as he turned around, a good ten steps from the tree. For a moment, his eyes were shut tight as he concentrated, but as he started running, the sky-blue eyes snapped open. With a jump, his sole caught on the tree bark.

He managed three steps until his left foot blasted right off. With her bloodline limit, Hinata could easily see the massive burst of chakra that caused the failure, and she watched in amazement as the blond boy managed to twist in mid-air and land on his feet, although he seemed a bit wobbly.

"How did I do?" he asked eagerly, although his legs were shaking.

"You pushed out too much chakra through your feet, Naruto-san," she mumbled.

"Sorry? What'd you say?" Naruto asked with a friendly smile. "Can't hear you, you gotta speak up!"

"I said you were pushing too much chakra out of your feet, Naruto-san," she said slowly, trying to enunciate clearly. Suddenly, the whiskered boy was standing very close to her, eying her with concern.

"Hinata-chan?" he asked worriedly. "Are you sick?"

The blue-haired girl immediately went a far deeper red, if that was even possible. "Hinata-_chan_?" she said faintly.

Naruto immediately jumped back, looking away. "Ah, sorry about that," he said quickly, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Iruka-ni-san always tells me that I'm too disrespectful; I never exactly know what honorifics to use or how to address someone right." He bowed in apology, taking refuge in his lessons with Iruka. "I'm sorry, Hinata-san; it won't happen again."

"That's okay," Hinata mumbled, still a bit surprised. Even her father didn't call her that way. It was quite pleasant, somehow. "You can keep calling me that."

Naruto looked up, surprise and relief mingling in his face. "Really? It's okay?" he grinned, relieved.

"Umm..." Hinata stuttered, twiddling her fingers again, too embarrassed at what she asked next to look up. "Can I call you Naruto-kun?"

"Eh, what?" Naruto said dumbly, taken off guard for a moment. After that, he ruffled his hair with a sheepish grin. "Sure! That's only fair, after all! You do that, Hinata-chan! "

His grin just grew wider as Hinata smiled shyly at him. Naruto jumped up and down excitedly, blue eyes dancing happily. "So, Hinata-chan, can you give me a few tips?"

And so the two children set about trying to walk up a tree.

It turned out that Hinata was very, very good at it. When she said that her father was teaching her, she had actually meant that she had already mastered the skill. Extremely finely tuned chakra control was a must in the Hyūga clan, considering that it was the main prerequisite for their traditional martial art, the Jyūken. Hinata had been drilled in chakra control exercises since she could walk, and had mastered tree walking only a short while before.

With her Byakugan, it was easy to tell Naruto how much chakra he needed to use to cling to the tree. In the end, she advised Naruto to learn it the way she had learned to tree walk – not by running up the tree at full speed, but by first trying to stick himself to the tree at a right angle and then _walk_ slowly up the tree instead of running, all the while maintaining enough focus to avoid falling off the tree like some strange orange-coloured fruit.

Naruto grumbled, saying it was boring, until he tried it for the first time. When he realized how difficult it was to constantly focus and control his chakra, he changed his mind and immediately started the exercise with renewed enthusiasm.

The child of the Hyūga heir sat on a higher tree branch, calling out when she saw too much or too little chakra concentrated at the bottom of his soles. With her help, it wasn't long before Naruto could stand on the tree trunk without any difficulties.

When he excitedly tried making his first step on the trunk, he fell off like a ripe fruit.

He didn't manage to catch himself in time, landing awkwardly in a heap on the forest floor. Hinata looked down with concern. It hadn't been far off the ground, but that still could hurt...

After a moment, Naruto groaned, getting back up again. As he saw Hinata looking at him with a worried expression, he just grinned and waved at her. "I'm fine, Hinata-chan; don't worry! Nothing that hasn't happened before!" He patted his backside, loosening some dirt, muttering all the while about getting regularly thrown around like a sack of potatoes in taijutsu practice.

The little girl smiled happily. For some reason, she didn't want to see Naruto hurt.

"All right, let's do this again!" Naruto said loudly, setting his right foot against the tree, focusing his chakra. When the foot stuck, he put the next one to the bark.

Still perched on her branch, Hinata could see the path his chakra took through his body, and she was still fascinated by the colour of Naruto's energy – a bright blue, as if it was woven from the sky itself. His chakra coils were ridiculously large for his age; they were nearly as thick as some of the adults' coils she had seen at the compound.

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed. As Naruto tried to loosen his chakra deliberately in one foot to make a step, she saw a few flickers of red chakra in Naruto's leg, as if it was burning away at the energy he focused.

That was unusual. A person's chakra was generally the same colour, even if there were slight difference from person to person. But to have chakra that had several colours, all in one body? She had never seen that before, and father hadn't told her about it either. She would have to ask him.

"Um, Naruto-kun," she began. "The chakra in your feet..." She stopped, unsure. Kanato-san's etiquette lessons didn't cover things like this.

"What is it, Hinata-chan?" the boy asked, his eyes shut in concentration.

"Well, the chakra in your feet, Naruto-kun, it's _bubbling_," she answered quickly.

His eyes opened, and he looked at her at her with a sceptical expression on his face. "Bubbling? Why would it be bub- Whoa!" Again, his feet lost contact as his concentration decreased. He landed on the ground, hard. "Owww..."

"I'm sorry, Naruto-kun!" Hinata apologized frantically. "I didn't mean to distract you!"

"That's it, Hinata-chan," Naruto said, getting up slowly. "I think I need a break." He smiled up at her. "Hold on, give me a few seconds..."

With that, he started running against the tree trunk, made it up three steps on the bark and grabbed the lowest branch in a climbing leap. After that, he swung his body so that he could grab the next higher branch, and after repeating the process a few times, he was sitting on the branch next to Hinata, a wide grin on his face.

"Faster than learning how to tree walk!" he said proudly.

"Where did you learn how to do that?" Hinata asked curiously. That hadn't looked at all like the tree jumping that Neji had to practice in the Academy.

"Uncle Tabi taught me," Naruto exclaimed happily. "He taught me all sorts of cool things, like how to climb up trees and houses, and how to jump and fall safely and stuff."

"How to fall safely?" Hinata asked, completely confused. Weren't you supposed to avoid falling?

"Sure! You know, if you get off-balance in a fight, or if you fall from something high, you can learn how to get back up quickly and fight again, so I learn how to dodge and roll and stuff," Naruto explained. "Uncle Tabi is also trying to teach me how to fight, and he showed me all kind of tricks, but he said that I should try to run away if I ever got into a real fight, 'cuz I couldn't possibly win yet." He pouted. "Spoilsport," he grumbled.

Hinata couldn't help but giggle. He just looked too funny.

"Oi, brat!" they heard someone call. They peered down from their branch to see the old traveller standing at the base of the tree, squinting up at them, the sun getting in his eye. "I got some things to do in the village; people to visit and stuff to buy, stuff like that. No slacking off on your training while I'm gone, you hear me?"

"No way, Uncle! I really want to learn this!" Naruto protested.

"Good," the traveller nodded. Hinata's heart sank. Now she and her father would probably have to leave.

However, the old man wasn't finished. "Hiashi apparently wants to stay here for a while; I asked him to make sure that the two of you work."

_Hiashi?_ Hinata wondered. _He called Father by his first name, without any honorifics?_ That had _never_ happened before. The respect of the Hyūga clan was far too deeply ingrained in the villagers' psyche.

...But then again, the old man wasn't a villager, was he?

The old man continued as Hinata tried to work out what exactly had happened between the stranger and her father. "So do your best, brat! When I come back, I'll see what you managed to get done, okay?" the old man yelled.

"Gotcha, Uncle!"

Tabibito shaded his eyes, looking at Hinata. "Hey, little lady," he called out with a smile. "Can you make sure that the knucklehead sitting next to you actually does something constructive? He's not lazy, just has a tendency to forget what he's supposed to do, drifting off and the like."

"Hey, I'm not a knucklehead!" Naruto protested loudly.

"Yes, you are, brat; otherwise you wouldn't have fallen off a damn building this morning!" the traveller retorted, causing Naruto to pout again and Hinata to giggle. "Now get to work so it doesn't happen again!"

"Yes, Uncle," Naruto grumbled.

The traveller waved as he turned around as he walked away across the clearing. "See you later, kids!" The two children watched him go in silence.

"He seems nice," Hinata remarked quietly.

"He is, but he's really strict, though," Naruto said dejectedly. Then he grinned, his face lighting up. "But I'm much stronger now than before he trained me. So I'd better get to it again." He stood up on the tree branch, stretching his back. "Wouldn't want him disappointed in me."

Hinata just smiled at the boy next to her. For some reason, she felt much better than she ever had before. Perhaps it was the nice weather.

...

Tabibito was walking at a brisk pace through the village of Konoha. This was unusual in that he wasn't ambling along the street with his normal leisurely tempo, but he was walking as if he had a purpose, dropping all pretence of being old, weak, or tired.

He quickly dropped out of sight into a back alley, his hands forming a quick seal. Closing his eyes, he could feel the air around him, using its currents and the movements of their air around him to scout out his surroundings.

It was an extremely complicated technique that he had developed himself: by pushing out small amounts of chakra out of his body and lacing the air around him with it, he could 'feel' his surroundings around him, allowing him to perceive them with a level of clarity that was only rivalled by the Hyūga's bloodline limit (except that he couldn't observe another person's chakra, and it only worked for areas with air – no seeing through things). A useful tool that only the most skilled wind manipulators could use, requiring very fine chakra control, but even then it consumed a large amount of chakra, meaning that the traveller could only use it in short bursts.

Still, it was ridiculously effective at what it did, so it was easy to spot the two ANBU members wearing blank masks that followed him across the rooftops. Tabibito left the alley again, back in his persona as the miserly old traveller that many people had come to know in the village, careful not to give away his apprehension.

Ever since the incident in the back alley, there had been no overt attempt to hurt him or Naruto. Tabibito was all for avoiding a cruel death by disembowelment, so he avoided provoking the ANBU following him in any way, simply pretending that the hidden watchers didn't exist. However, he and the brat couldn't go anywhere without having at least one or two of the masked men trailing them covertly. Presumably, they watched the boy's progress and reported it to their leader, or perhaps they simply were watching to ensure that nothing happened to the jinchūriki of the Nine-Tailed Fox. Or perhaps it was something else entirely. There were far too many possibilities and unknowns to simply choose one conclusion without more information. But generally the watchers seemed to be, if not friendly, then at least not hostile: they never showed themselves or attacked, but they also refused to let the odd couple out of their sight.

However, _today_ they were a nuisance.

Tabibito entered a simple, cheap restaurant bar, ordering a bottle of sake. As he sat down at his table, he could still feel the silhouette of one of his watchers, observing the entrance from the roof opposite the street. The other one had disappeared, probably covering the back exit in case he tried to pull something sneaky.

Unluckily for them, he was going to do just that.

After Tabibito gave his order, he looked around the little restaurant. It was a simple wooden construction, an open door to the street with a flap covering the entrance, no windows, low tables, and cushions on the floor to sit on. The customers seemed to be mostly working-class artisans, workers on their lunch break and travelling merchants munching away on sticks of dumplings and plates of vegetables, drinking cheap tea and rice wine. It was loud and crowded, merchants discussing business and complaining about incessant bureaucracy while waiters bustled in and out of the kitchen.

"Your order, sir." A bottle of saké and a cup was put in front of him. The traveller grunted in acknowledgement.

After drinking two cups (he wasn't training the brat right now, was he?), he picked up the bottle and went to through a door in the back to the restroom. He stumbled in, giving the impression of being a bit drunk (which wasn't that far off, but more than two cups were necessary to get _him_ drunk) to the man standing at the urinal.

Working-class man, inconspicuous clothes, general complexion that was completely normal, if a bit on the ugly side. Perfect.

When the man zipped up his trousers, the traveller went through three quick hand seals, and then stuck the index and middle fingers of his right hand at the base of the worker's neck in something approaching a peace sign. "Lightning Release: Electric Touch," he muttered as the man twitched soundlessly for a moment, eyes and mouth wide open in shock (literally), and then collapsed.

Tabibito quickly grabbed him by the collar and dragged him over to the latrine, quickly draping him over the open hole. He took the man's wallet, stealing the few coins in it to give the appearance of a robbery, before uncorking the bottle and quickly splattering part of it on the man's face. The traveller then put the empty bottle in the man's limp hand.

The traveller stepped back, admiring his handiwork. A stereotypical drunk, smelling of saké, unconscious over a toilet. It may have been a waste of good alcohol, but it was a very good deception.

He then quickly made a shadow clone of himself, who went back into the barroom while the real traveller used a henge, taking the appearance of the worker. He then calmly walked out, paid the man's tab with the stolen money, and left through the main entrance. His chakra still in the air, he could feel that the masked ANBU watching the door didn't follow him.

Tabibito sniggered. Any ninja allowed to work in the field could pull off a transformation technique. But it was the attention to detail that made some of them masters and others not. It would take quite a while for the two watchers to realize that he'd already left, all thanks to the confusion surrounding the "drunk" and the remaining shadow clone in the restaurant. And even then it would be a while before they found him again.

Now, to see the Hokage without any interruptions...

...

Hiruzen Sarutobi felt now like an even _older_ man. Again, he thought that it was the paperwork that had prematurely aged him, or perhaps that was just the impression he got from the ever rising stack of documents to be read and signed. He considered just burning the lot, but that would only delay the problem itself and get him in trouble with his secretary. Tabibito was right, that woman was fierce. He shuddered. Probably ex-ANBU and a part of his protection detail as well.

He rubbed his eyes as he put down his pen. It was only the beginning of the afternoon, and here he was, already worn down. He was sure that he'd had more stamina in his youth, but there weren't many people who knew him from back then. He couldn't exactly chat about the good old times with Koharu and Homura, those two were so serious and stuck-up nowadays. And Danzō? Forget that old fanatic. He'd probably suggest assassinating a few people "for the protection of Konoha" at the end of a normal conversation about the weather, if he didn't try it sooner.

There was knocking on the door. "Come in," Hiruzen called. He tried to keep the hope out of his voice. He needed a break, badly.

His secretary stuck her head in. "Hokage-sama, there's a man that wants to talk to you. He says it's urgent."

"Did he give a name?"

"He said he was an old drinking buddy of yours," she replied, grimacing. "He also said that if you didn't let him in, he'd tell everyone about that incident in that bar in Taki." Somehow, it was difficult to reconcile the image of the grandfatherly old man with any kinds of 'incidents' in bars.

Hiruzen's eyes widened in panic. "I think it'd be best to let him in, _now_," he said quickly. If that story ever got out...

A moment later, a civilian Hiruzen had never seen before walked into the office, closing the door behind him. Hiruzen's glare pierced him. "Now," the wizened man began, "how do you know about what happened in Taki?"

"Taki?" the man said, stopping dead in his tracks as confusion set in. Whatever he seemed to have expected, it wasn't this.

"Yes," Sarutobi said, still glaring. "I spent a lot of hush money and called in many favours to make sure that no one ever found out about that story. How come you know about it?"

"Oh, I can't _wait_ to hear this one," the man muttered, and with a puff of smoke, the old traveller appeared in front of him, grinning. "I heard some rumours that you were a wild one back in the day, but I thought they were exaggerated."

Hiruzen nearly fell out of his chair. "Tabibito? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Bluffing my way into your office, obviously," was the blunt answer. "Now what was this about a bar in Taki? Seems that the rumours have some truth to them..." the traveller enquired as he sat down at the desk with an inquisitively raised eyebrow.

"I'm not saying anything," the Hokage said resolutely. "I have my dignity, you know."

"Pity. Although it'd be brilliant to exchange embarrassing stories about what happened to us in various dens of sin and compare the tattoos we got in a drunken stupor afterwards, I have better things to do for once."

"I'm sure that's unusual," Hiruzen said drily.

"For me, it is." Surprisingly enough, Tabibito now seemed completely serious, without any trace of his usual sarcasm or other kind of humour. "There's a problem with the brat."

Hiruzen nearly jumped out of his chair in worry. "Naruto? Is he alright?"

"He is now, but I think there's a problem with the seal containing the Nine-Tails."

The Hokage blanched. "Please don't tell me the seal is breaking," he pleaded.

"No, no, fuck," Tabibito said, grimacing as he waved the idea away. "Nothing as dramatic as that. If that was happening, I'm sure both of us could tell from miles away, with the wanton destruction and oppressive demonic chakra and all. I didn't even notice anything was amiss until one of the Hyūga told me."

"Hyūga? Which one?"

"We met the heir and his daughter by accident went Naruto went falling off a building." Before the Hokage could explode, the traveller raised his hands in a placating manner, his expression resigned. "I know that you disapprove of my training methods, but let's forget that for now. We've got bigger fish to fry."

_For now, I'll forget it_, the Hokage thought, reclining in his chair. He'd heard unsettling rumours about what Tabibito put the boy through. Without being asked, he opened his drawer and wordlessly poured two cups of sake.

"Okay, so Hiashi told me something interesting, but I gotta lay some groundwork first," Tabibito began, nodding thankfully as he accepted the cup Hiruzen handed him. "First and foremost, a jinchūriki seal is designed to contain the demonic entity sealed into it with minimal harm to the user. The seal stops the chakra of the sealed bijū in the early years of the host's life from entering his or her chakra system, allowing the host's body to develop normally without poisoning his mind and body, which are still relatively frail. This is to ensure that the hosts, which are generally children, do not lose control over their inmates."

The Hokage said nothing, knowing that the old traveller was just trying to be as clear as possible for him to understand. Even though he already knew all this from his own knowledge of fūinjutsu and the notes that Minato had left behind.

The old traveller threw back his sake, his grey ponytail bobbing. "However," he exclaimed as he slammed down his cup on the desk, "for some unexplained reason, that is not the case with the brat. Thanks to that freaky bloodline your resident gender-ambiguous clan has, Hiashi could see that apparently there's foreign chakra in the boy's system, which at his age should theoretically be impossible."

"Foreign chakra?" the Hokage asked sharply. "That of the Nine-Tails?"

"Only possible explanation," Tabibito nodded gloomily in agreement. "Which brings up several interesting possibilities. Number one, that the seal master reduced the blocks in the seal on purpose, meaning that the demon's chakra could enter the brat's body at an earlier age."

"Unlikely," the Third said, glancing at the picture of his successor and predecessor hanging in his office. "I knew him very well, and he would have never exposed any child to such torture."

The traveller grumbled in acknowledgement. Minato Namikaze's reputation for chivalry and honour was well known during the war, and grudgingly acknowledged even by his worst enemies. This new information from the Hokage fitted neatly into what else Tabibito knew of him.

"Possibility number two, then," he continued, sipping from his cup with a grimace. "Somebody changed the seal after the child already got it."

"Impossible," the Hokage shot back immediately, rubbing his forehead in a frustrated manner. "The boy is and was continuously watched by an elite ANBU squad, and the only people alive that even know the particular sealing style used by the Fourth are me and his teacher Jiraiya, and we both haven't even dared to touch or change it in any way."

"Eight Trigrams Sealing Style, right?" the traveller asked, frowning. "You mentioned that when you first told me about the seal. That's a style that was developed or derived from fūinjutsu used in Uzushiogakure, if I remember it correctly."

"Right," the Sandaime agreed wearily. "The Fourth's wife was a refugee from the village, and she was quite the expert in the sealing arts as well. The Namikaze techniques were a combination of traditional Konohagakure sealing techniques and the teachings that could be saved from the Land of Whirlpools before it was destroyed."

Tabibito groaned, his head falling to rest in his hands. "You have got to be kidding me," he moaned. "The seal that holds the most powerful demon in the world in check is a fusion of two fūinjutsu styles that has never been used before in recorded history; the only ones that have a remote clue about how it works are you and a perverted old man that loves travelling around the Elemental Countries to peep on women, and the only people that _might_ know something about the seal are either dead or scattered all over the world after a genocidal attack. Brilliant. Fucking brilliant."

"You know, that's pretty coarse language, even for you," the Hokage chided. He didn't want to get in trouble with his secretary. Again.

"Fuck you," the traveller replied, his voice muffled by his own hands.

"I could call Jiraiya back," the Third mused, ignoring his old friend's suggestion. "He manages our external espionage network; it'd be easy to get a message to him."

"Bad idea," Tabibito said, shaking his head morosely. "The brat and I are still being watched by someone. We don't want the one who's behind it to find out that something is wrong with the seal, and the return of the old pervert would be a sure-fire way to get alarm bells ringing."

"Hold on; we're getting off-topic," the Third frowned. "If the Yondaime didn't change the seal, and if no one tampered with it afterwards, what's the last possibility?"

"To be honest, I really don't want to consider it," Tabibito muttered, straightening up from his slump to reach for the sake bottle. "It's pretty scary to even consider it."

"Consider what?"

"The possibility that the Fourth might have botched up the seal."

All blood drained from the Hokage's face, leaving it as pale as that of a corpse. "Impossible."

"Don't say things like that, they'll come back to bite you in the ass," the traveller grimaced.

The Third rallied. "Minato was one of the greatest sealing experts in the _world_, Tabi. There's no way that he made a mistake."

"That's bullshit, and you know it!" Tabibito snarled, his voice turning violent. "Saru, _think_, for the gods' sake! He was forced to seal the most powerful inhuman monster in the world into a newborn child while it was attacking the village he was charged to protect! I wouldn't be surprised if he was injured at the time as well! I don't deny that the kid was a genius," he shot the picture of Minato a quick look before returning to glare at the Hokage, "but even under normal circumstances, sealing a Tailed Beast is nearly impossible, and he knew he was going to have to _die_ to power the seal! With all those possibilities for a fuckup and the extreme emotional, physical and mental stress, I'm surprised that nothing happened earlier!"

Hiruzen thanked the gods and all spirits that would answer his prayers that he'd taken the precaution of placing a privacy sealing ward around his office. Naruto's seal being unstable... If this ever got out, it would spell disaster. First, there would be mass panic among the civilians and the shinobi forces, and if the other villages ever found out that Konoha's most important weapon was weakened, it would be nearly impossible to ensure Naruto's safety. Or that of the village for that matter, especially if the other hidden villages became adventurous.

Oh, sweet Kami. They were sitting on a powder keg of epic proportions.

"How bad is the situation surrounding Naruto's seal?" the Hokage enquired sharply. Right now, the situation had to be assessed, the problems solved one by one to protect the village until the danger was minimal. As the Hokage was expected to act.

Tabibito shrugged helplessly. "To be honest, I have no clue. Hiashi said that he only spotted a small amount of Tailed Beast chakra in the brat, but that only means that the chakra blocks in the seal haven't completely weakened yet. I have no idea to what extent or how long the seal is going to hold, if it's going to hold at all. At the very least, it's quite likely that the demon's chakra will affect the brat in some way."

"How?"

"Bloody hell, now _that's_ a very good question." Tabibito didn't even bother with the cup now, simply grabbing the whole bottle. "A Tailed Beast can have many different influences on their host," he explained, coughing on the sharp alcohol. "Usually, they have ridiculously high chakra reserves; their raw power easily rivals that of any Kage. Unique abilities or weird elemental affinities are quite common, like the One-Tail's control over sand. However, it all comes at a price. To put it simply, the host usually goes batshit insane if they can't control or cooperate with their inmate, simply because of the continuous mental stress they are under."

"The beast tries to take control over its host," the Hokage breathed.

"Exactly. It rarely actually succeeds, thanks to the seal controlling the monster, but the host itself is usually damaged in some way or another. Insomnia, extreme aggression, violent tendencies, depression, bipolar disorder... You name it. So far, the brat doesn't seem to even have realized about the fuzzball, and he seems pretty stable, meaning that the monster can't have that much influence over him. Yet," Tabibito muttered the worrying afterthought as he set the bottle to his lips.

"But Naruto is fine now?"

"Now, yes, but if there's really demonic chakra in the brat's body, then it's very likely that more will follow later." The traveller swirled the rice wine in its bottle, thinking quickly. "In any case, we need to examine and reinforce the seal. I think I know now why the brat's chakra control is so unnaturally bad; the Tailed Beast is interfering with the focus of his own chakra. And it might explain why the brat has more trouble learning some things than others, like reading and writing – it could be that his mental processes are being inhibited by that foreign chakra. In any case, the seal has to be fixed, sooner or later."

"We can't leave it by itself?" the Hokage asked carefully, but already fearing the answer.

"There's really no way to tell how long that seal will still hold, if it will hold at all, or if it will break under physical or mental strain in the future. You know that, Saru; I'm sure you did some research. You're the 'God of Shinobi' after all," Tabibito snorted, but with no humour in his voice. "But that's not what I'm worried about."

The Third waited silently, eyes narrowed. Tabibito sighed, put down the now empty bottle, and rubbed his eyes. "We have to tell the brat about the bijū."

Hiruzen stilled. "No."

"Saru, listen to me. I know that you hate it, but you have to."

"We are not going to tell him, Tabibito. Out of the question. He's not ready."

"Really?" the traveller, his eyes narrowing sharply. "When were you planning to tell him, anyway?"

The Hokage hesitated for a split second; nearly unnoticeable if a watcher hadn't looked for it. "When he would graduate from the academy. When he would have proven that he was a capable ninja, that he can handle the responsibility of being a shinobi, let alone a jinchūriki."

"The academy," the traveller stated blandly.

"Exactly," the Hokage confirmed. He watched Tabibito closely, whose expression had turned stoic, although little telltale movements of his facial muscles made it clear that some strong emotion was agitating him. "Tabibito? What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," the old man said, his expression turning blank. "Nothing of importance."

The Hokage frowned. "Please, Tabibito, I know you well enough that something's bothering you. Tell me. I'm asking as a friend here, not as the Hokage."

"You want to hear my opinion, old friend?" the old traveller said, his voice suddenly venomous as he sat up, his back ramrod straight and eyes blazing in anger. "I think that you're completely full of shit."

The Hokage frowned. "Explain yourself, then."

"You know what your problem is, Saru? It's the fact that you're treating the brat as if he was a _normal_ kid," the man ploughed on. He put up a hand as the Third tried to interrupt. "Don't even think of interrupting me, old man. You're acting as if the kid's a normal child with a dark secret; a secret which you can simply reveal to him one day, as if he could go on with his life as if nothing happened.

"The brat is _not_ normal, Saru." The old traveller's eyes blazed fiercely. "He's a demon host, a human weapon."

The Third nearly exploded with fury, standing up behind his desk. "Now see here, Tabi-"

"Hiruzen, you know I'm right," the traveller said loudly, interrupting the Hokage again. "The whole point of creating jinchūriki wasn't just to protect the people in the Elemental Countries, but mainly to use them as weapons and political bargaining tools. That's the reason why there are so many treaties surrounding the demon hosts – they're used to keep the balance of power, keeping the political situation stable. The only reason why the five Great Shinobi Nations haven't already tried to annihilate each other is because none of them can exactly gauge each other's power or that of the jinchūriki in the other countries."

Tabibito waved impatiently at the Third, motioning him to sit down. The elder man ignored him, watching him intently. "But you know this already, Saru; you negotiated and signed most of those bloody treaties yourself," he pressed on. "What pisses me off is that you assume that you can treat the brat normally."

"What's wrong about me treating Naruto normally?" the Hokage asked heatedly. "He's no weapon, Tabibito; he's a six-year old child. I am not having him turned into some political bargaining chip just because he's different."

"In case you haven't noticed, he already _is_ different, since the day he was born," the traveller growled angrily. "Are you sure that your judgment isn't being clouded by your affection for the boy?"

The Hokage's hands slammed on the desk loudly as he rose, incenses, his paperwork scattering everywhere. "How dare you say that to me, Ryokousha!" he snarled, killing intent rolling off him in threatening waves. "I have protected this village for over four decades! I have led it through wars and peace; I have massacred its enemies in three world wars and countless smaller ones; I created its laws so that innocent civilians would be protected from the excesses of shinobi arrogance; I helped rebuild it after the Kyūbi nearly razed to a pile of ash, and now look at it! It's still standing after having suffered so much, it has become one of the most powerful and influential cities in the world; and it is _still_ blossoming and growing! People are crowding to it, and Konoha is held up as a model for civilians and ninja alike!"

His killing intent spiked as he towered over the sitting traveller, who had gone very, very still. "So don't you even _dare _to accuse me of my judgment being clouded!"

Tabibito just stared at him, his cup of sake and the bottle forgotten.

"You know, Saru," he replied calmly, "I think this is the first time I've seen you genuinely angry since... well, I've never seen you this angry before, actually. Something about my words pissed you off for some reason. Did I hit a nerve somewhere?" he asked, his tone slightly mocking.

Sarutobi just looked at him. After a moment, he sat down again, his killing intent evaporating as he closed his eyes to get his thoughts in order.

Meanwhile, Tabibito was doing his best to get his heart under control, taking slow and deep breaths to combat his rising panic, ignoring his own subconscious and the logical part of his brain _screaming_ at him to get out of this office, to run and flee this village and never return. S-class missing-nin he may be, but he knew very well that the Third could break him like a twig if he wanted to. This was the 'God of Shinobi', after all. One of the reasons why the Leaf village had become so powerful was because of Hiruzen Sarutobi, whispered in rumour to be the only man to be able to rival the legendary Sage of the Six Paths in power, cunning, and strength, which was why they both earned the same moniker.

Tabibito never wanted to see Hiruzen this angry again. He had been paralyzed in fear, unable to do anything, trapped like a helpless rabbit as the fox approached.

Tabibito hated feeling helpless.

"Explain yourself, Tabibito, and do it quick," the Hokage ordered sternly. He was now sitting calmly at his desk again. "Why do you think my judgment is clouded concerning Naruto?"

Tabibito hesitated. The old man had outmanoeuvred him. He sighed as he began explaining. "I think I have a pretty good guess as to whose child he is, Sarutobi."

"Oh? Do tell."

"His father is the man who sealed the bijū into him, the Fourth, right?" Tabibito stood up and walked over to the wall where the pictures of the of the Third's predecessors hung. He touched the lone successor there, his finger tracing Minato Namikaze's features. "When you compare the brat and the Fourth, the physical resemblance is astounding. Blue eyes, spiky blond hair... pretty rare traits in a country where most people have darker shades of hair, like black or brown, the occasional genetic oddity notwithstanding."

"That proves nothing," the Hokage said sharply. "The Yamanaka clan has these exact same features as well."

"Well, I wasn't exactly sure until we had this little discussion today, Saru," the traveller retorted. "You said today that the Fourth's wife was a refugee from the Village Hidden in the Whirlpool. Naruto's name is Uzumaki, one of the most famous clans of the former village. The brat's definitely descended from someone from Uzu, and he's an orphan. The Fourth died in the Kyūbi's attack, his mother is recorded in the village's public records as having died in the same night, and he was the one chosen to be the vessel for the beast by the Fourth. To me, it's quite clear whose child he is. He probably was the closest vessel available, considering that he was picked for the sealing."

Tabibito finished pacing around the room, looking at the Hokage expectantly. "Well? Aren't you going to tell me if I'm right?"

It was the Hokage's turn to remember who he was dealing with. Although the traveller put up a front of grumbling grumpiness befitting a cranky senior citizen and the occasional drunk stupor, it was just that: a front, a disguise that he used to confuse and misdirect those around him. Underneath all that was a mind as sharp as a razor, one that analyzed the situation around him with ease and whose guesses were generally extremely accurate.

Those sharp storm-grey eyes belonged to a man feared as the Peregrine Falcon of Sunagakure, a name he had earned by his constant travelling and cunning feats in battle. His style wasn't based on raw power or overwhelming force, but by being an efficient and clever adversary, enduring or evading all attacks, weakening his enemies bit by bit, luring them into traps if he couldn't kill them immediately, and then finishing them off in a brutally efficient manner – and if that didn't work, harass them for so long until they dropped from exhaustion or gave him an opening, making them easy pickings. He was no Nara, but that was like comparing a forest fire to the sun.

Tabibito Ryokousha didn't need weapons or powerful techniques to be dangerous. His mind alone was as sharp as any sword.

"There's a high probability that you're wrong, Tabibito," the Third said slowly, trying to gain time as he remembered exactly why he'd been glad that Suna had been Konoha's ally during the last great war.

The traveller snorted. "But I'm not, am I? Have you ever heard of Occam?"

"Wasn't he that loony philosopher from Kumo?" the Third asked, brightening up. A possibility to change the topic of conversation, thank the gods.

"Yeah, that's him," Tabibito chuckled.

"Is it just me, or does Kumo have a tendency to turn out a lot of eccentrics?" the Third smiled.

"He was eccentric, but he once said a very interesting thing: _In any given situation, the most likely explanation is the one making the least assumptions_," Tabibito said sharply, all goodwill disappearing from his expression as he leant on the Hokage's desk with his hands, both eyes narrowing. He grimaced. "Or something like that; I can't remember the exact wording. It's a rule called Occam's Kunai. Quite an interesting way of analyzing a situation, and admittedly not always correct if you don't have all the pieces you need, but it's always stood me in good stead. And my explanation makes the most sense seen from that point of view. Now, Hiruzen," he leant even closer, "stop fucking around. Am I right about the brat's father, or not?"

Hiruzen conceded defeat, slumping in his chair. "You are."

For a moment, nothing in the office was heard except the sounds coming in from the street, merchants and workers bustling along in the city in the afternoon.

The traveller grinned. "Good to know. Now I'm going to tell you how this whole situation looks to me." He sat down, back to his good humour. "All _I_ see is an old man who has a big problem. He has to make sure that the child of a dead friend can grow up peacefully. However, because said child bears a great responsibility that makes _that_ nearly impossible, and because the old man is scared of what the child might think of him or how he might react to said great responsibility, he doesn't tell the child." He picked up the bottle of sake, realized it was empty, and grabbed the next bottle that Hiruzen had wordlessly put on the table.

Tabibito peered at the Hokage, who was unusually still. "Do you see where I'm getting at, Saru? You're scared of what the brat will think of you, or how he will react when he finds out that he's a jinchūriki. Worse, when he finds out that you've lied to him."

"Yes, I am!" the Hokage said angrily, old hands turning white as they clenched, gripping the edge of the desk. "Yes, I'm scared, damn it! Do you know what he calls me, Tabi? _Grandpa_! As if I was family..."

He forcefully let go of his desk, putting his face in his hands as he tried to justify himself. "I don't want to see his face when I tell him that I've lied to him all these years when he asked where his father and mother were, or why everybody in the village hates him and mistreats him. I can't do it."

"_You_ don't hate or mistreat him, Saru. And the brat knows it."

Hiruzen looked up and saw Tabibito smiling. Not his shit-eating grin or sarcastic smirk, but a genuine friendly smile. "Think about it, Saru. You've been there all his life. You're the one he trusts most in this village, one of the few people that genuinely care for him. If you explain what happened to him, and your reasons for not telling him, he'll understand."

"Are you that sure?" the Hokage asked, sceptical and slightly desperate. "How can you be so sure?"

"I've been teaching the brat for over one and a half years now, and I've rarely met anyone with such a big heart as him. He's so nice, in fact, that I'm worried that he might make a lousy ninja. But I can tell you that I'm a hundred percent sure that if you explain everything to him, he'll forgive you." Tabibito leant back into the comfortable chair, a twinkle in his eyes and a smile on his face.

"You really think so?" the Hokage asked, his voice a bit hollow.

"I'm sure. He's that kind of person." Tabibito emptied another cup. "The earlier you tell him, the better it's for the brat. If you really care for him, just tell him about his parents and his role in the village, and then we can fix his seal. Easy peasy."

"The village council is going to give me no end of trouble about this," the Third groaned.

"Screw the village council!" Tabibito exclaimed bluntly, slamming down the sake bottle, glaring at his old friend. "In case you've forgotten or grown soft, this village is a fucking military dictatorship, Saru! Your word is the law here, and the village council will just have to grin and bear it. But," he leant forward and grinned wickedly, "if you're that worried about the village council, who says we have to tell them?"

The Third thought for a moment until a smile spread slowly over his own face. "Just like good old times," he chuckled before stopping himself, returning to his stern expression. However, the corner of his mouth was twitching as he sipped at his own of sake. "Dear Sage, I think you're a bad influence on me, Tabi."

"You need a bad influence, otherwise you'll grow old far faster than you want to." The traveller laughed out loud, before getting up and stretching his arms. "So, should I expect you today to tell the brat?" he asked casually.

The Hokage spat out the sharp rice wine in surprise. "What!"

"Well, if you want to tell him, do it before you get any more doubts," Tabibito shrugged. "Don't put it off, is all I'm saying. Makes sense to me."

"I guess you're right," the Hokage muttered, feeling defeated. But he thought that just this once, defeat was a good thing. "Are you still at that training ground near the memorial?"

"Yup, all day," the ponytailed elder confirmed with an easy grin.

A knock on the door. Tabibito's hands snapped up, quickly forming a hand seal. A poof of smoke, and he changed into the appearance of the worker. He raised an eyebrow at the Hokage, who just chuckled. "Come in," he called loudly, the privacy seals deactivating.

It was the secretary again, this time opening the door fully. She looked troubled and bowed quickly. "Hokage-sama, ANBU Itachi Uchiha, codename 'Crow', requests an audience with you. He says it's extremely urgent."

"That important?" the Hokage frowned. "Did he say anything else?"

"'Life and death, national security', he said," the secretary answered, throwing worried glances at Tabibito. The Hokage made a note to give her a few days off soon. If she was this conscientious about her duty, then she deserved a few occasional perks.

"Let him in, then," he ordered. "No word of this to anyone," he said sternly to both the henged traveller and his secretary. Both nodded seriously, though it was impossible to tell whether his old friend was earnest or not. He'd have to take that chance.

As the secretary left, the Hokage looked at Tabibito. "I'll be along right after I finish this, so just have Naruto wait for me at the training ground, all right?"

"You want a pinky promise?" the traveller asked drily, raising an eyebrow.

"No." The Hokage shuddered violently as the image of that happening played in his mind. "Just be there with Naruto."

"Well, okay then," the workman conceded with a grin. He surprised the village leader by bowing deeply. "I'll see you later, Hokage-sama," he said solemnly before turning around and leaving before the Third could recover from his surprise.

He watched the youngest ANBU captain ever throw the leaving workman a blank, but definitely suspicious look with dark black eyes before entering the office. He closed the door silently, bowing respectfully. "Hokage-sama," he said quietly. "There is disconcerting news."

"Tell me." Small talk wasn't exactly the strong suit of the stoic Uchiha. The Hokage admired that. _No political bullshit_, as Tabibito would have said disdainfully.

Itachi stood up straight, looking Sarutobi straight in the eye without blinking. "The Uchiha clan is planning a coup to usurp your position and take control of the village, Hokage-sama."

...

_Occam's Razor_, also known as the _lex parsimoniae_ in Latin, is the so-called law of economy or succinctness. The theory was developed by English cleric _William of Ockham_ (ca. 1288 – ca. 1348), a pioneer in the fields of nominalism, epistemology, and logic. Earlier iterations or versions of the law have been attributed to _Ptolemy_ and other scholars.

...

The original manga series of _Naruto _was written and drawn by _Masashi Kishimoto_, originally published by _Shueisha_ in 1997, and is still ongoing at the time of writing (May 2012) after sixty published volumes and two different anime adaptations: one simply titled _Naruto_ by _Studio Perrot_ that premiered in October 2002 and ended in February 2007, and its sequel _Naruto: Shipuuden_ (Naruto: Hurricane Chronicles) by the same studio that premiered in February 2008 and is still ongoing at the time of writing. Various tie-in works like novels, video games, and a series of theatrical movies have been published to date.

Again, please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.


	10. Chapter X – Sacrifice

DO NOTE that this story IS NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of _fanfiction_ based on the original work and its associated franchise, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with the Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.

...

Good day and good evening to you, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the latest chapter of _Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox_. I'm happy to be back, and I hope that you'll like this chapter with our grumpy senior citizen and favourite orange-clothed lunatic.

I have a major problem: my computer died yesterday. Literally _died_ on me, from one moment to the other when I turned it on. Acording to the computer guy I went to, the hard drive is fucked up beyond repair. Of course, he put it more politely, but that was the gist of what he told me. And considering that the warranty already expired, I won't be getting a new one for a while. Right now, I'm using a friend's laptop with a foreign keyboard, trying to get used to all the foreign symbols and the like. How fun.

Unfortunately, I was confident enough in my computer that I had no backups for my stories. And now here I am, with my last document manager backups, cursing my bad luck and shoddy manufacturing. I have a good memory, fortunately, thanks to extensively editing my stories, and a lot of handwritten notes, so I can rewrite the missing chapters. It's just going to take a ton of time.

I'm really, _really_ sorry. I promised you faster updates just last week, and here I am, having to tell you that the next updates to all of my stories is going to take ages. At least a week, probably two with all the editing. Having to disappoint you like that makes me feel really bad. I could write it out faster, but the quality would take a dramatic hit. And if I have to choose between speed and quality, I will always choose quality. I'm really, really sorry, and you have my sincerest apologies.

All doom and gloom aside, I hope that you like this chapter – I had a lot of fun writing it, even if I am cursing my bad luck right now. Your comments and critique, whether good or bad, is welcome as always.

Please, enjoy this chapter and leave a review. I hope you have as much fun writing it as I had writing it.

...

**Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox**

**Chapter X - Sacrifice**

...

_**Training Ground Three, Konohagakure**_

"Argh!" Naruto screamed, grabbing his head with two hands in frustration as he rolled around on the forest floor. "I don't get it! Why is this _not working_!"

"Um, Naruto-kun," Hinata started quietly, fidgeting. "I don't think it's really your fault that it's not working."

"Oh, really?" he asked, getting bad-tempered. He pointed at the tree trunk with his kunai. The bark was barely scratched five metres above the ground. "I've been trying this for hours, and I haven't gotten past a few paces yet! There's something I'm doing wrong, but I don't know _what_ it is! Damn it!"

"Patience, boy," a stern voice called out. Naruto flipped onto his feet to face an approaching Hiashi, who was frowning at him. "Anger disrupts your peace of mind. So does impatience. Patience and peace of mind are essential to concentrate. And concentration is the key to mastering chakra control."

"How do you know?" Naruto challenged him. "You're not my teacher! That's Uncle's job!"

The elder Hyūga's eyes narrowed. "Child!" he snapped. "Are you _arrogant_ enough to believe that your master knows _all_ the secrets of the ninja arts?"

Naruto crossed his arms, pouting up at the far taller adult. "So what if he doesn't know everything? He's still awesome, and he can still teach me a lot of cool things!"

"He won't be your teacher forever. What will happen when he's gone?" Hiashi pressed on. "When he will no longer be able to teach you? When he is old or dead? Will you simply refuse to learn from others?"

Naruto's arms went slack, and he stared at the elder Hyūga with wide eyes. "Are you crazy or something? Uncle won't leave me! He _promised_ to teach me!"

And for a six-year old Naruto, that was all the proof he needed.

It had been a promise the old man had made shortly after they had found their apartment in the red light district. If was common to see children without parents there, simply scrounging off the visitors to the red light district, pick pocketing the villagers, tricking them with cons, scheming with thieves to have unsuspecting guests robbed. No parents. In a way, they reminded Naruto of the time when he was all alone himself. When you couldn't get food, you stole it.

That night, Naruto had moped all evening until Uncle Tabi had picked up his lute and played his favourite song until he fell drowsy and sleepy. Before he fell asleep, the old man had talked softly to him, ruffling his hair. _I'll teach until you don't need me anymore, brat. That sound good enough for you? Now get to sleep, you've got a tough day ahead of you tomorrow._

"One day, he will be dead, like every human being," Hiashi countered, his expression even sterner than usual. "Will you learn from someone else _then_? It's not as if you would have a choice..."

"What exactly are you trying to tell me, old man?" Naruto yelled, taking refuge in his usual brash behaviour. "Come on, spit it out!"

"What I am trying to get into your thick skull, _boy_," Hiashi said, his voice perfectly calm even as his mind was afire, "is that if someone, _anyone_ offers you advice and lessons, you should never, _ever_ reject them outright. Think carefully whether the lessons would suit you, if the knowledge would help you, and think over whether the advice given to you might be useful. Even your foes have lessons to teach you."

"Why would I listen to an enemy for advice?" Naruto asked, obviously confused. "It doesn't make sense! They want to hurt me, don't they?"

Hiashi sighed, and realized that he needed to dumb it down for this child. _I'm getting foolish in my old age_, he thought ruefully, _I expect a child to understand something that many adults don't even come close to grasping._

"Let me ask me that way, young boy," Hiashi said quietly. "If your greatest enemy could teach you a lesson, something new and important about the world, something you could never learn from anyone else, would you be ready to learn from him?"

The blond-haired six-year old just stared at him. "What...?"

"In my long life, Uzumaki-san," Hiashi said quietly, looking up into the sky, "I have learned that you can learn as much from your enemies than you can from your friends or teachers." He gave a small, sad smile. "Why, I didn't know how much my brother meant to me until the day he was taken from me. I thank and curse Kumogakure for that lesson every day."

He watched a cloud pass by, pale eyes seeing and not seeing at the same time. "Hope and despair can sometimes spring from the same source, and teachings can also come from both friend and foe."

"F-father..." a quiet voice quavered.

The head of the Hyūga clan looked back down to see his daughter step up quietly and stand one step behind Naruto to his right shoulder, the traditional position of a vassal attending to their suzerain. Hiashi raised an eyebrow. So his daughter thought that the Uzumaki was someone worthy of respect? How right she was.

"I don't think I get it," Naruto muttered. His face was scrunched up in an irritated frown as if he was thinking very hard about something, his arms folded and his fingers tapping a rapid rhythm on his arms. "It's pissing me off."

Hiashi shook his head slightly. "Don't worry about it." He smirked, a rueful little tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Not many adults understand it either. But at least consider my words."

"Hey, is it okay if I think about it some more?" At Hiashi's barely concealed look of confusion, Naruto scratched his neck sheepishly. "Hey, I can't be expected to know everything right off the bat, can I? But don't worry! I'll try to understand all that 'hope and despair' and 'learning from your enemies' stuff you talked about, and then I'll tell you if it was any good! That's a promise, and I never go back on a promise I make! That's my nindo!"

He folded his arms and grinned up confidently at Hiashi. The clan heir was unsure what to say, hiding behind the impassive mask of the Hyūga conditioning, looking down at the small child wearing a bright orange jumpsuit and an even brighter grin.

Except in looks, he was really nothing at all like his father... Only time would tell whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Minato had been a genius, cunning, driven, serious, and often far too clever to care for himself when he had a whole village to protect.

But his smile was definitely that of his mother. Red-headed, fiery, violent Kushina, the woman with the biggest temper in Konoha. And most certainly the one with the biggest, and kindest heart.

For a moment, Hiashi could have sworn that he saw the two standing behind their son, smiling indulgently at him. The way they probably would have looked at him had they survived to raise Naruto. Tall, gangly Minato with the same yellow-blond hair and blue eyes as his son, his confident slouch as ever present as his benign little smile, standing next to his shorter wife Kushina, her red hair falling nearly all the way to the small of her back, her son's wide, friendly grin on her beautiful face.

A moment later, they disappeared, leaving only Naruto behind.

Hiashi blinked rapidly a few times, looking at thin air, drawing a curious look from Hinata.

They had seemed so real.

_Spirits, I miss them. _

"Yo, Hiashi!" a voice called out, breaking the clan elder out of his reverie. "We got company! Important one too, I bet!"

Hiashi immediately tensed when he heard the traveller's voice call out and his feet's loud, plodding step. He turned around slowly, spotting Tabibito Ryokousha ambling cheerfully towards them, the Hokage a few steps behind him.

"Uncle," Hiashi nodded in acknowledgement before bowing deeply in the Hokage's direction. "Greetings, Hokage-sama. An honour to see you again."

There were few people that commanded the greatest respect within the Hyūga clan. The Sandaime Hokage was definitely part of that select group. Right now, Hiashi was fully ingrained in his role as the heir to the powerful Hyūga clan, all emotion gone.

"Do relax, Hiashi-san," the village leader said gently, puffing on his pipe as he looked the clan heir up and down. "We're not attending a council meeting, are we? No need to stand on excessive formality."

Hiashi nodded stiffly. "Yes, Hokage-sama."

He threw a glance at Tabibito, who had simply walked past him to talk to the two children climbing in the tree, and tried to make his mind up about him.

He'd heard rumours of the travelling musician that had taken in the "demon brat", as the Hyūga clan's retainers derisively called Naruto. Most of it didn't bode well: he'd heard that the man was continuously drunk, played his lute in a dingy teahouse in the red light district to make a living, and had settled there, smack in the middle of a den of thieves, cutthroats and prostitutes. He also seemed far too old to be able to protect and care for a small child on his own, especially in such an unsavoury part of town.

When Hiashi heard this, he was tempted to cast the opinion of his clan elders, that of his own father and that of the Third Hokage to the winds (in fact, he considered doing it simply to piss them off; they'd been getting on his nerves recently) and adopt him into the clan as a retainer, just to get him off the streets.

Konoha wasn't a city for youngsters without parents or protection – children disappeared all the time in the city in fights between gangs, kidnappings, or simply from starving or illness. The Uchiha Military Police or the Home Guard couldn't be everywhere at once, and there were parts of Konoha were other rules than the laws decreed by the Hokage were in effect, those of gangs, rogue samurai, or the yakuza. Far too often, maiming limbs and execution were the punishment for violating their unspoken codes.

Taking a reckless, hyperactive child like Naruto into dangerous territory to live _there_ seemed like the height of foolishness.

Hiashi had heard about the old traveller. The man presented a front of a grumpy senior citizen who occasionally got into a drunken stupor and was constantly hungover, playing music in bars to earn his keep. As inoffensive as you possibly could get, really. Or at least that was the general impression Hiashi got from the conversations he overheard.

But Hiashi wouldn't be fooled. He'd met the man doing a death-defying stunt – saving a child falling to his death from over thirty metres – that could only be achieved using very advanced shinobi skills honed by practice and experience.

The Hyūga heir had watched the old traveller when he talked to him and found none of the evidence that usually betrayed professional assassins and spies, retired or not. Usually, you spotted trained shinobi from the tensing of certain muscles that indicated a readiness to spring into action to defend themselves (or flee, depending on the situation), a little twitch of fingers towards hidden pouches and weapons, eyes jumping around to search their surroundings and spot possible threats and escape routes. Even the most skilled shinobi had difficulties hiding those telltale signs. Usually, it didn't matter either way – the only people skilled enough to spot these signs were the most talented Hyūga clan fighters or extremely experienced shinobi and interrogation specialists. Either way, they were rare.

The old traveller had none of these signs. He seemed completely at ease in Hiashi's presence, joking and explaining things to him with complete abandon. The only hints the Hyūga heir received as to the man's true nature where his large chakra coils visible to the Byakugan, the assured way he spoke of teaching Naruto, the way his fingers had curled around the sheath of his tantō dagger – a firm yet light touch, the best grip for a fast, throat-cutting draw – and the look in his grey eyes.

You couldn't hide the eyes of a killer. Death always changed them, for some reason.

Hiashi watched the old traveller approach the tree Hinata and Naruto were perched in, calling for them to come down and laughing with them as if he really was a favourite, kind-hearted older uncle instead of a retired professional murderer.

_And why does one have to exclude the other?_ Hiashi mused, resigned. _There's almost no member of the Konoha shinobi corps that is _not_ sullied with someone else's blood._ The image of Kumogakure's ambassador, blood gushing from his mouth as he hit the floor, limp in death, flashed through his mind._ I have killed as well. Some people are just better at it than others. And only some of us lose our humanity when killing._ He watched the old traveller help down Hinata from a particularly high branch of the tree, chiding her as Naruto grinned and laughed. _You can be a killer and yet remain kind. _

He glanced at the Hokage, who was watching the two children and the old musician with an indulgent smile, smoking his pipe. _Or at least that what's I keep telling myself. I couldn't hope for the future of my children otherwise._ He looked back to his eldest daughter, who was smiling shyly at Naruto. _Hinata and Hanabi will probably have to kill as well. _

Hiashi closed his eyes for a moment. _Let's hope Hinata doesn't lose her kindness._ _I nearly lost her once; I don't want it to happen again. _

"Hiashi-san," the Hokage suddenly addressed him.

The Hyūga heir was immediately on guard. "Yes, Hokage-sama?"

"Why were you here, watching over Naruto?" the village leader enquired carefully.

Hiashi recognized it for the loaded question it was. _Why is the heir to one of the most powerful clans of Konoha observing its village's demon host?_ A question that could well spell trouble for all involved, especially if suspicion of treason existed.

Hiashi chose his words carefully, never looking at the Hokage. "Simple reminiscing, Hokage-sama. Remembering fallen friends and the legacy they left behind."

A rueful little smirk appeared on his features as he glanced at the black stone memorial in the middle of the clearing. "Nothing too important. Just a personal whim. Don't worry yourself over it."

_I'm not here for my clan. _

He heard the Hokage breathe out a lungful of smoke. "I see..." the old leader said airily before chuckling. "Forgive my rudeness, Hiashi-san. Times are troubling, and Konohagakure must count all its allies and friends." Hiashi turned around to see the wizened shinobi throw a thoughtful look at the blue sky above. "Indeed, times are troubling."

"Troubling enough that the Hokage must check up on one of the village's treasures?"

The Hokage glanced at Hiashi thoughtfully. "A rather interesting way to refer to the village pariah," he said lightly, his tone friendly and even.

Hiashi knew that, ancient or not, the Hokage was like a perfectly concealed knife. Unseen until it plunged right into your throat. The elder's voice had that pleasant grandfatherly quality to it that made you forget that this was a man who had lived to old age on battlefields that had slaughtered many people several times younger than him. Many had died by his own hand in defence of his beloved village, whole platoons of enemy nin and battalions of common foot soldiers massacred like so much cattle. In peacetime, the village's enemies had a tendency to disappear or die in mysterious ways that left little to no doubt on whose orders they had been slain, even (or _especially_) when they considered themselves untouchable. Any Kage was dangerous, but the Sandaime Hokage was especially so.

And Naruto was a very important part of the village that the Hokage held so dear.

Hiashi had absolutely no illusions as to the violence the Sandaime Hokage could possibly unleash if the village's jinchūriki, their _weapon_, one of the most important things guaranteeing the village's safety and prosperity, was threatened. Not to mention that he personally cared for the boy, considering that he was the child of his favourite student.

And the old man was cunning. Hiashi knew that cold, hard fact of life as surely as the sun would rise in the east every morning. You didn't survive politics with Danzō, Homura and Koharu – all masterful manipulators in their own right – without serious cunning yourself.

Hiashi realized that he would have to make a decision. As he saw Naruto and Hinata approach, the old traveller pushing them along and grumbling in an annoyed yet good-natured manner, it was a surprisingly easy one to make. The two children were chatting animatedly, Naruto gesticulating widely and grinning. Hinata was far more subdued, but her smile and small laughs were genuine.

This was the first time he had genuinely seen her smile since he killed her would-be kidnapper in front of her very eyes. The first time she'd smiled after her mother's death.

The Hyūga heir's mouth curled into an uncharacteristic smile. "All precious stones once came from dirt and mud, didn't they?" he asked quietly. "Careful fashioning is what reveals a jewel."

The Hokage lifted an eyebrow at the Hokage's uncharacteristic expression. "An enlightened attitude, I'm sure," he noted drily.

"Enlightened?" Hiashi asked respectfully, looking the wizened leader in the eye. "Do you really think so, Hokage-sama? I merely believe it is the right thing to say. We were all diamonds in the rough once, after all. Without our teachers, we would be nothing more than infants."

"Too true." The Hokage was silent for a moment, puffing quietly on his pipe.

"Remember your loyalties, Hiashi-san." Hiashi's blank eyes snapped towards the Hokage, widening slightly. Was he being threatened?

The Hokage, however, was watching the two children and their minder approach, a thoughtful look on his face. "There might – no, there _will_ be a conflict in Konoha's future. And it won't come from Iwagakure or Kumogakure. The daimyos of Stone and Lightning might be inclined to exact revenge for their losses during the wars, but their shoguns won't be foolish enough to commit their battered militaries and diminished resources against ours." The Hokage breathed out a lungful of grey smoke, his eyes hardening. "No, the threat to our village's existence will come from somewhere else."

Hiashi realized immediately what that meant, but before he could ask any questions, he was interrupted by Naruto tackling the Hokage around the waist in a flying hug.

"Grandpa!" the young child yelled out excitedly, giving the old man the best bone-crushing hug a six-year old could give. "I missed you!"

"Settle down, you crazy little rascal," the old man laughed aloud, pretending to topple under Naruto's weight. "You're getting far too heavy to keep doing that!"

Naruto looked from where he had thrown his arms around the Hokage's robe-clad waist. "Am not," he muttered petulantly. Hiashi heard Tabibito scoff in amusement as he approached with a rather more demure Hinata (no doubt due to the Hokage's presence).

The Hokage simply mussed the six-year-old's blond hair, a smile on his face. Naruto quickly made to get away, scowling.

"Still a brat, I see," the traveller said cheerfully. "I gotta remember to do that; it seems to annoy you!"

"Uncle Tabi!" Naruto was pouting, which only elicited more chuckles from the traveller and the Hokage. "You know that I hate it when people mess up my hair!"

"What, you think it's not messed up already?" Tabibito noted incredulously, pointing at the blond mess that sat upon Naruto's head. "I wouldn't exactly call that bird's nest a hairstyle – you know, the word _style_ implies that you're trying to do that on purpose."

"Of course it's stylish!" Naruto said, affronted and adjusting his headband. "It's _my_ hair!"

"Alright then, then let me officially tell you that _your_ sense of hairdressing sucks a major lot of balls," Tabibito shot out, grimacing before looking thoughtful. "Actually, brat, have you ever been to a haircutter's?"

Naruto looked downtrodden for a moment. "They'd always chase me off at the doors with their shears," he said quietly. "Something about scaring off customers."

Tabibito's grey eyes flashed angrily for a moment. "Figures. I'll take you to one next week, alright?"

Naruto flashed him a grin, irrepressible as always. "Sure!"

Hiashi observed his daughter's expressions as she watched the old traveller and Naruto interact. As soon as she had realized that the _Hokage_ of all people was here, she had closed up, reverting to the usual Hyūga demeanour of blank impassivity. But he was her father, after all. If anyone could read her expressions, he could.

He had rarely seen her so _happy_.

In a way, he was both cheered up and depressed by that fact. Cheered up, because he wanted Hinata to be happy – if her smile was anything like her mother's, then they wouldn't need to worry about a next ninja war breaking out. Just send Hinata over and have them smile at the warmongers.

Depressed, because it was another child, not him, her father, that had made her feel happy. It made him think that he had failed as a parent. He probably had.

"Hinata," he addressed her quietly. The girl's smile disappeared instantly, replaced by a blank expression as her lavender eyes turned to him. He gave her a small, sad smile. If she was surprised, she didn't show it. "Let's go home. We shouldn't bother Hokage-sama and Tabibito-san, and Naruto still has to continue his training."

"Yes, father," she said, her tone even and indifferent. Her body language was anything but.

Hiashi held out his hand, and Hinata walked over to his side, taking it without a word and turning to face the others, her eyes to the ground. "It was nice to meet you," she said quietly, bowing slightly, the picture of politeness.

Tabibito smiled as well as he bowed in return, his eyes twinkling merrily. "It was nice to meet you too, little lady," he said cheerfully. "Thanks for keeping those fabulous eyes of yours on this lunkhead while I was gone. I really appreciate it!"

"Hey, Uncle, who're you calling a lunkhead?"

Tabibito cuffed him on the back of the head. "The fact that you have to ask answers the question, doesn't it, brat?"

Naruto gave him long, calculating stare before his mouth crooked into a mischievous grin.

"I think I'll plan something extra for next Sunday's prank, just for that little comment..."

Tabibito gave a long-suffering sigh, rolling his eyes to the heavens. "Spirits and Kami above, what have I done to deserve your wrath?"

Hinata giggled quietly and smiled at the two of them. "Thank you," she said quietly, not noticing her father's unseen dismay. "It was fun to train with you."

"Hmm..." Tabibito turned towards Naruto, eyeing him speculatively. "Hey, brat? Can you treewalk now?"

"Hell yeah I can!" Naruto yelled out enthusiastically. "Watch this!"

He ran towards the nearest tree, speeding up its trunk at a dead run until he reached the top and back-flipping to the forest floor, rolling to cushion his fall and run back to his starting point. All in less than five seconds. He grinned at the Hokage's stunned look. "So? Am I awesome?"

Tabibito snorted and cuffed the back of Naruto's head. "That head of yours gets any bigger and you'll look like one of 'em stupid caricatures in those picture books you like to read."

Naruto rubbed the sore spot on his head, scowling at his adopted Uncle. Before he could retort, Tabibito interrupted him. "But..." the old traveller said calmly, glancing at Hinata out of the corner of his eyes, "if you learn such a complicated technique that quickly with a partner, perhaps you should regularly start training with one..."

He turned towards the two Hyūga, smiling at Hinata in a grandfatherly way. "Hey, little lady, do you mind training with the knucklehead for a while? I know he's annoying, loud, and his grasp on good manners is 'bout as subtle as that of a gorilla in a banana plantation," chuckles broke out at Naruto's outraged expression as the traveller continued, "but he's a good kid. If you can keep him in line and help him along, he'll probably learn far faster than he'd do dealing only with an old codger like me. So, what'd you say?"

He looked as her expectantly.

"Excuse me," Hiashi said glacially, reminding everyone of his presence. Hinata's hand in his tightened slightly, nearly unfelt. "But _that_ is not her decision alone to make."

Tabibito looked up at him, eyes unflinching. After a moment of staring at each other, the traveller shrugged nonchalantly. "No, I guess it isn't."

Out of the corner of his eye, Hiashi could see the disappointed frown of the Hokage as he puffed on his pipe. Minato's child looked vaguely confused, probably not understanding the implications of the exchange and Hiashi's coldness. Hinata looked down at the leaves on the ground, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

Her little hand was trembling, and Hiashi was feeling like the most callous person in the world. But even though he wanted to hug her and make her stop, he wouldn't. Coddling her wouldn't make her strong.

"What is it, Hinata?" he asked her sternly. She flinched quietly. In the company of such accomplished shinobi, she might have as well screamed and run away and her feelings couldn't have been any clearer. Fear.

Six-year old Hinata still looked down at the ground, refusing to look up at her father. If anything, it made Hiashi feel worse. "Well?" he snapped.

Hinata shuffled her feet, never raising her eyes. "Father," she whispered quietly, "please let me train with Naruto-kun."

Hiashi nearly fainted. Naruto-kun? Naruto-_kun_? Never had Hinata referred to anyone in such a familiar manner! It was absurd! Alien, even, to the rigid traditions of the Hyūga clan!

"Why?" he asked simply, trying to buy time to order his thoughts.

"..." Hinata was quiet, until she looked up at him with wide, fearful eyes, unsure what his reaction would be. "It's fun."

Hiashi cringed inwardly. He was a miserable excuse for a father if his precious daughter felt more alive without him than in his presence. Her mother would probably turn in her grave if she knew how her little daughter felt.

The heir to the Hyūga clan glanced at their audience. A hopeful-looking Naruto, a lightly frowning Hokage, and an otherwise impassive traveller raising an inquisitive eyebrow. All waiting for his verdict.

Hiashi looked down at his daughter and remembered the smile that she had sported only moments ago when speaking to the little blond child.

He sighed, defeated. "All right."

Hinata's eyes grew wide in shock and surprise, before a genuine, gentle smile of joy appeared on her face. "Really?"

Hiashi raised a hand, looking stern. "On two conditions."

The little girl deflated, starting to become anxious, but hiding it well. _Good_, her father thought approvingly. _The lessons have stuck_.

"Number one – you _will_ take your training seriously, both when learning the clan techniques and while you learn with Naruto-san and Ryokousha-dono." He glared severely at Hinata. "I expect nothing less from you, my daughter."

Hinata nodded once, demurely.

"Number two." Hiashi turned to face Tabibito and Naruto, surprising the two. "If Hinata is to learn from you, Ryokousha-dono, I would like to teach Naruto-san a few things as well."

"Ryokousha-dono..." the old traveller muttered, sounding peeved. "What am I, bloody royalty? It's just Tabibito-san, Tabi-ji-san, or Uncle Tabi. You're making me sound me sound older than I am, and I'm already too damn old to be of any use." His eyes sharpened. "But why would _you_ want to teach Naruto?"

"A fair trade," Hiashi said neutrally. "You teach Hinata, I teach Naruto. A simple quid-pro-quo. The Hyūga clan settles _all_ its debts."

There was silence in the clearing before Naruto whispered to Tabi in that manner that all small children have – a stage whisper that everyone could hear. "Uncle, what's a 'kid-proh-cow'?"

"It's a kind of soup," Tabibito replied, his expression blank. The Hokage choked on his pipe.

Naruto's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I think you're lying to me."

"Good; you're getting better at this," the traveller replied with a wry grin, ruffling Naruto's hair. He ignored the child's scowl and faced Hiashi, his wizened face now serious. "_If_ we accepted, what would you want to teach him?"

"A variety of things," the clan heir said neutrally. "Advanced chakra control exercises, for one; perhaps some taijutsu unrelated to our clan techniques that you might find useful. Calligraphy, painting, history, spiritual lore, rituals, the etiquette involving the politics of a clan... All things a young aristocrat should be aware of."

"I'm not an aristocat," Naruto chirped his interruption. "Least I don't think I am. Is that a bad thing, being an aristocat? Sounds like an animal or something. Is it something you can eat?"

"Shut up," the traveller grunted under his breath as Hinata muffled her giggles in her kimono's sleeve. Tabibito frowned as he searched Hiashi's impassive expression, finding nothing. The traveller couldn't make head nor tail of the stoic Hyūga's offer. He scratched the back of his neck and glanced at Naruto, whose eyes were jumping between him, the clan head, and Hinata.

"Listen, kiddo, do you want to train some more with the little lady over there?"

Naruto's face lit up as his grin went wide. "I'd love to!" he crowed. "She's fun and she makes the funniest faces and she helps me learn the stuff to become a ninja really quickly and–"

"Right," Tabibito interrupted hastily, turning back to Hiashi and Hinata and bowing formally. "We accept your proposal, Hiashi. I will seek you out at a later date to finalize details regarding the training of these two children."

Hiashi bowed back gravely. "As you wish." His daughter bowed as well, her body language radiating joy. When she stood back up, her smile was back on her face. Hiashi's heart would have been jumping if it wasn't for his excellent emotional control, and even then it was a close thing.

"We will be going now," Hiashi continued stoically. He bowed towards the benevolently smiling village leader. "By your leave, Hokage-sama."

He received a pleasant nod in return. "Remember my words, Hiashi-san." The piercing eyes of the Professor studied him.

Hiashi inclined his head sharply, tugging at Hinata's hand. She didn't move, looking at Naruto. The whiskered boy just grinned back. "So I'll see you soon? Training and stuff?"

"Yes, Naruto-kun," she said quietly, smiling brightly.

Tabibito whapped the back of Naruto's head with an open palm. "Only if you the two of you work hard," he warned sternly. "Hinata is taking time out of her clan training for you. Don't make her regret her choice, you hear me, brat?"

"Fine, fine," the blond grumbled, folding his hands behind his head and squinting at Hinata. His friendly grin returned. "Hey, Hinata-chan, let's both work really hard, alright? That way, we can both achieve our dreams by helping each other!" He started jumping up and down excitedly, grinning like a maniac. "It's gonna be totally awesome!"

"Alright, Naruto-kun." Hinata's bright smile had returned, and she bowed. "Take care of yourself," she said formally.

"Sure! You too!" Naruto said obliviously, unaware of the _extremely polite_ phrase the clan heir's daughter had used, and what it entailed.

_Protect yourself_. _I don't want to see you hurt. _

_I think_, Hiashi mused as the two Hyūga walked through the forested training grounds towards the exit, _that a few etiquette lessons wouldn't be amiss for young Uzumaki. It'll avoid making trouble for him in the future. _Hiashi remembered his old teammate's manners._ Funny, his father was always courteous to everyone he dealt with, enemy and ally alike._ He chuckled. _But then again, the child is Kushina's son. And she was an absolute _terror_ when she wanted to be. _

There was a reason why Kushina Uzumaki refused to go along on diplomatic missions with her fiancé, because she would have started another war in less than five minutes, probably insulting some pompous nobleman during an ambassadorial reception. It was always amusing to imagine the 'Bloody Habanero' trying to castrate a member of a foreign delegation who needed his overly-inflated ego cut down. Preferably with a rusty kunai.

Hiashi entertained himself with a few visions of that nature, letting his imagination run wild. Only Kami knew how often he wanted to inflict that or worse to the annoying courtiers who badgered him when he visited the capital and the Fire Emperor's court. Especially the idiots who had the _audacity_ to offer marriage contracts to Hinata and Hanabi. At their age... Most of the self-proclaimed 'suitors' were older than him, for heaven's sake!

Lost in thought, Hiashi nearly missed a flickering movement in the trees. He nearly activated his bloodline on instinct, but restrained himself at the last moment. ANBU. Of course the Hokage would bring his bodyguards along. No need to give them any more reason to be wary of him.

'There _will_ be a conflict in Konoha's future. And it won't come from Iwagakure or Kumogakure.'

_Stone and Lightning are far too weak militarily to challenge Konoha as it is now_, Hiashi analyzed coolly even as his mind raced. The other ninja villages were out of the picture as well – none of the minor countries would risk provoking the Land of Fire. It was at its most powerful in years, the Emperor and his Shogun firmly entrenched in their positions, and while the Hokage may have been old, he nevertheless had an iron grip over his shinobi, who were held to the highest standards of the Elemental Nations.

An attack from outside was not only improbable, but it would have been _suicidal_. No self-respecting daimyo would grant safe haven to ninja willing to attack the Leaf when they could be easily wiped off the map in mere days. And Kirigakure and Sunagakure were too dependent on their trade routes with Konoha to risk open war.

'Eliminate the impossible, and then the truth will reveal itself, as improbable as it may be.' Hiashi's father lived by that creed, cold and logical as it was, and had passed it on to his children.

_A coup d'état. _Hiashi's heart nearly stilled when he reached the only logical conclusion. _Spirits of Heaven and Earth. That's what the Hokage is worried about. _

He quickly reviewed everything he remembered from his latest sessions with the village council advising the Hokage. He had attended them regularly for years with his father, being groomed to take over the position when the current head of the Hyūga clan would pass on. It was customary for all clans residing in the village to have a seat on the Advisory Council – it helped ensure that the interests of the clans and their members were taken into consideration.

Civilians, such as the elected leaders of the various guilds, merchants, and other assorted representatives, were also involved – but they were acutely aware that this was _not_ a simple border town run by a run-of-the-mill daimyo or state official they could threaten into submission or sway with bribes. This was a military dictatorship. They were tolerated solely at the Hokage's leisure and were loath to jeopardize what little stability they had. Or the size of their bank accounts.

Hiashi scoffed. _They would have probably called for Naruto's head to be stuck up on a pike at the village gate if they actually had any pull, those superstitious fools._

It was well known that the civilian part of the village _hated_ the young demon host with a passion, blaming him for the destruction caused by the monster four years ago. Some ignorant idiots had actually tried to do him harm early after the Kyūbi's attack, mobbing, hurting, or even attempting to _kill_ him. Those little escapades ended quickly when the Sandaime calmly ordered the perpetrators' public executions (those left alive by the ANBU squads guarding the jinchūriki, at least) and the seizure of their belongings, leaving their surviving relatives to beg in the streets. It was a sharp reminder as to who was in charge of the village.

So, it was unlikely that the civilians were involved in whatever trouble the Hokage was having. They scorned Naruto, yes, but they were absolutely terrified of the Hokage's retribution should they hurt him or threaten the stability of the village. They were sitting on fat profits gained from the flourishing trade after the war – they wouldn't put that in jeopardy, whatever happened.

It hadn't protected Naruto from the civilians' scorn, hatred, and the glares sent his way, but it _had_ saved his life. Better than nothing.

So, if it wasn't the civilians... The Jōnin Council? Them, traitors? Hiashi nearly laughed out loud, causing his daughter to look at him as they walked along, puzzled and worried. If anyone commanded the respect of the highest-ranking shinobi, it was the Sandaime Hokage. The man was older than any of them (with the possible exemption of that fanatic Danzō and the two geezers Homura and Koharu) – and anyone who survived that long as he did as a ninja was worth following and not worth crossing.

Hiashi, an experienced shinobi who had seen his fair share of bloodshed, shivered in the autumn wind, all Hyūga conditioning useless. He recalled once accidentally walking up to the Mission Room (affectionately nicknamed the 'Death Chamber' by some of the more darkly-humoured ninja) with his team when he was younger. Even through the locked door, the murderous intent could be felt – as if the whole room beyond it was just one large killing zone that would only leave unrecognizable cadavers behind if entered.

When the door had opened again, it had disgorged a group of ill-looking and thoroughly chastised shinobi and kunoichi. Hiashi later heard that they had been involved in a major operation to wipe out a pillaging rebel warlord in the Eastern Coast. They had failed – resulting in massive looting, raping and slaughter in the neighbouring coastal towns as their target sought to get revenge the only way he knew how to. All because of a relatively avoidable mistake, letting word slip to their target ahead of time by someone getting loose tongues in a bar. Three of those shinobi handed in their forehead protectors the same day, feeling ashamed of themselves and terrified of even looking the Hokage in the eye.

Hiashi swore the same day that he would never, ever cross the Hokage... well, perhaps only to protect his children. No one denied the Sandaime's intelligence, drive, and power. It would be better to be on his side than against it. He was the 'Professor', the 'God of Shinobi', having led Konoha through years of open war and decades of peace – and with shinobi, it was often difficult to tell the difference between the two.

Trying to usurp him had to be _suicide_.

_So_, Hiashi frowned, _who would be desperate, hateful, or just plain _insane_ enough to try and overthrow him? The list can't be large if you exclude any foreign powers... _

The clans.

Clans were both respected and feared amongst shinobi. Respected, because their members were often trained from birth by their family into merciless and dutiful killers that served the Emperor and Shogun. The Hatake and Sarutobi clans may have had no bloodline, but in their primes during the wars against the other great villages, their sons and daughters had slaughtered Konoha's enemies in droves. Other clans had perfected various skills over generations of trial and error, passing them on to their children and serving the village.

The Akamichi, healers and warriors, able to crush their enemies like cockroaches underneath their soles.  
The fanged Inuzuka, tamers of beasts, as wild and free as the dogs that followed them.  
The Nara, sharp of mind and wrapped in shadow, hunting their prey in the forests.  
The Aburame, living hives for their terrifying insects that could devour a man until only bare bones were left, their silent stoicism and cold logic as intimidating as the terror they inspired in friend and foe alike.  
The Yamanaka, every single one a master poisoner and interrogator, invading their foes' minds and torturing them from the inside out until they were nothing more than gibbering wrecks begging for death.  
The Kurama, whose imagination alone could make someone believe that they had murdered their own children and every single member of their family, or showed them other, unspeakable horrors that led trained shinobi to claw out their own throats in a desperate attempt to escape, even if death was the only release.  
The Sarutobi, masterful manipulators of the elements, famous for their relation to Konoha's founders.

And so many other clans... some smaller, some larger, but all of them very, _very_ skilled. And if you added powerful gekkai genkai like the Sharingan and the Byakugan, fighting alongside already skilled practitioners of the ninja arts...

Hundreds, thousands of bodies had littered the Land of Fire's beautiful forests.

No wonder Konoha's troops were feared all over the Elemental Nations. They were famous for their bloodline limits, after all.

But again, who would be plain _insane_ enough to attack the Hokage, the most powerful of them all?

The realization struck him a moment later.

Bloodline limit users, that's who.

Hiashi frowned as he and Hinata left the training grounds, entering the throngs of passersby in the streets of the village. He was _very_ careful to keep Hinata close to his side to avoid losing her in the crowd, frowning at the kulis, wagons and rickshaws that passed dangerously close by and glaring at anyone obstructing their way.

He needed to _think_.

Bloodline limits came at a price. Arrogance was one – the fact that some shinobi were granted advantageous powers and abilities by birth and not by their own hard work had convinced many bloodline users of their own superiority in comparison to 'normal' shinobi, setting them apart. The Uchiha clan came to mind, with their ability to copy any technique they witnessed instantly. Their arrogance on and off the battlefield was legendary.

The Hyūga had the same problem, but to a far smaller extent – to become a proficient user of the Jyūken, the demanding martial arts style of the Hyūga clan, hard work was a necessity. Hiashi remembered times when his limbs were sore from being struck for hours on end with chakra-enhanced palm strikes in spars with his brother Hizashi, their eyes literally _bleeding_ from overuse of the Byakugan. You either learned _some_ humility after that, or you became even more arrogant after all the effort you put in.

Hizashi had become humble. Hiashi, however, had become conceited and overconfident. Right until the day he nearly lost Hinata. Nearly watching your daughter taken away from you to get her _eyes ripped out_ could easily turn your life around.

The Uchiha, who could perform a technique with only a good look as easily as taking a breath, had become arrogant.

Another price of bloodline limits was... well, more difficult to predict. Bloodlines were part of a person's heritage, ingrained in their DNA, their very being. Some could be transferred to other persons by a simple transplant, dōjutsu like the Sharingan being a prime example, but passing on the bloodline to the next generation was only possible by procreation (_Just call it sex, will you, brother?_ an echo of Hizashi chided him) of someone born with the bloddline. And even then, conditions had to be carefully controlled to ensure that the bloodline was continued in a family's descendants... Why, it was one of the major reasons why bloodline-using clans existed in the first place.

In hindsight, Hiashi could spot how his father had manipulated him into marrying his wife. She was a member of the Branch Family at the time, a beautiful young woman with a graceful walk and gentle smile. He'd instantly fallen in love. It didn't matter to the two of them that the marriage was arranged. They were happy together.

It was only later that Hiashi learned that she was a very distant cousin of his – related enough to allow the Byakugan to be passed on, but not closely enough to create the... difficulties some bloodline users had.

Speaking about those difficulties – well, some clans with bloodlines survived only through nothing short of inbreeding of closely related family members. Marriages of second or third cousins were common in these clans. Their children were usually bright, intelligent, and capable when it came to the shinobi arts. However, the... problems, for lack of a better word, accumulated over many generations, and some members of clans using bloodline limits began acting strange and became very, _very_ dangerous to themselves and to others.

Sociopaths. Prone to mental illness and delusions. Going into homicidal rages. Emotional instability, or the complete inability to act rationally. Silent one moment, raging delusional the next. Being unable to judge their own skills or that of their enemy correctly, over- or underestimating them and leading other shinobi to their deaths... The signs were all there. And Hiashi Hyūga knew how to spot them.

Those who know about it called it the 'Curse of Heaven and Earth', or the 'Blood Madness'. It came from an old shinobi legend, telling the story that bloodlines were a gift from the spirits of the land and those dwelling in heaven, given to devout humans to help them protect themselves and their spiritual places of worship, a contract between man and spirit.

Absolute nonsense, of course, but it did make a nice story.

But why was it called a curse? Because the need to keep bloodlines 'inside the family' caused... interesting effects in some clan members.

Hiashi recalled meeting Uchiha Itachi once. The young teenager was considered a prodigy among the Sharingan-using clan as one of the youngest ANBU member in Konoha's history (information that Hiashi _wasn't_ supposed to know – he'd only found out by complete accident while using his Byakugan, spotting the white porcelain mask hidden inside the boy's jacket) and an absolute genius at moulding chakra and creating new techniques.

The cold look in those black eyes had nearly sent a shiver down Hiashi's spine. Detached, calculating, dangerous, but with none of the usual Uchiha arrogance. The lack of arrogance only made him even more lethal.

The same look of cold indifference, with additional conceit and belief in their own superiority compared to everyone else, was found on the faces of nearly all other members of the Uchiha clan that had awakened their bloodline.

If anyone had the Curse, the Uchiha did. They were convinced of their own superiority, something that could easily translate into hunger for power. And if anyone was insane enough to attempt to dethrone the Hokage without wide support throughout the village, it was them.

Blood Madness, indeed.

_Spirits_, Hiashi thought, mind working feverishly to map out all the implications. _The Hokage is expecting a coup d'état by one of the major clans, and he doesn't know _who_ he can trust. No wonder he was threatening me. Why, it's entirely possible that some members of the Hyūga clan might act against the Hokage as well! _

As Hinata and Hiashi reached the door of the Hyūga clan compound, Hiashi made a decision. _I won't let them. _

He glanced at the little girl that had been walking with him to their home, small, fragile, and very much in need of protection. Hiashi remembered the Third Shinobi World War. Children weren't spared from the horrors that occurred. In fact, some of the participants even _relished_ in the pain they could cause to the young ones. Young children had been forced to fight alongside the older shinobi if they were skilled enough. Their haunted eyes were sometimes worse than any wound they had received. If they survived at all. And sometimes, surviving was worse.

If Hiashi had anything to say about it, there would be no blood in the streets of Konoha. He wanted to spare his daughters that horror and grief. The Hokage would remain in power, and he would keep the peace so that Hinata and Hanabi could grow up safely.

But if some fools wanted to die for a lost cause...

_We'll let them. They deserve to die, and I'll gladly help them along. _

"Hinata?" he said gently.

His eldest daughter looked up at him. "Yes, Father?"

He squeezed her hand gently. "Please, know I love you. Remember that."

It was only as he entered the clan compound with a quiet Hinata that he realized that the Branch House retainer that had accompanied them to the training ground hadn't returned with them.

...

In the trees of the training ground, a man wearing grey armour over black clothing was casually leaning against the trunk of a tree, sitting on a thick branch and obscured by both a thick cluster of leaves and a particularly powerful camouflage genjutsu.

The reason why the mysterious man was using this particular illusion was twofold: one, it made it extremely difficult for _anyone_, either friend or foe, to see him hiding in the tree, allowing him to protect the Hokage far better than other shinobi could.

Two, it made it difficult for his subordinates to find out he was dozing off while reading porn. The white porcelain mask helped as well.

He lazily tapped his radio. "Team, call in."

"Clear."

"All clear."

"Negative on all fronts, captain."

"Dead as night, boss."

"Couple of civilians passing by the entrance, but otherwise no activity."

An awkward pause.

"Does a squirrel sitting on my head count as enemy movement?"

The masked ANBU captain rolled his eyes. "Is it threatening you, Sword? Nibbling on your ear, for example?"

"Uh, negative to that, captain. My disguise as a tree seems to be working a bit too well, that's all." There was a pause before Sword continued. "It's trying to stuff nuts into my mouth."

"... Somehow, I don't think I'll forget _that_ little statement," Rat muttered drily over the radio, causing a round of chuckles from the assembled ANBU team.

"You're all a bunch of arseholes, you know that?" Sword fired back angrily, which only served to increase the team's mirth.

"Language, ladies and gentlemen," Kakashi chided lightly, "we're not here to make fun of each other – as amusing as Sword's squirrel problem may be – but to protect the man paying our wages."

"I thought we did it out of loyalty?" Rat broke in. "Will of Fire and all that?"

"Nah," Shark said with a nearly audible grin. "Captain needs money to buy those perverted porn novels of his."

"You're right, Shark," Kakashi said sagely. "The only reason why I'm loyal to the Hokage is because he pays me good money to buy pornography. It all makes sense now. It's well written pornography, though, I'll tell you that."

"Great, you set him off again," Monkey mumbled, annoyed. "Shark, you're buying drinks tonight."

"Says who, you little cocksucker?" the woman snapped back. Even ANBU training couldn't quite suppress that temper of hers. Kakashi didn't mind as long as it didn't affect her mission performance. Shark may have been a tad overenthusiastic about dismembering her opponents when she had the chance, but she was far more capable than most ANBU soldiers. Kakashi had trained her, after all.

"Says your captain," he said smoothly. "Now, back to radio SOPs, team. No communication unless it's absolutely necessary, all right, children?"

A chorus on the riff of "yes, sir!" followed, but Kakashi had sharp ears. "I didn't hear anything, Shark-chan!" he sing-songed cheerfully.

"Fine," she said through the buzz of the radio, sounding surly. "I'll pay the damn drinks. Happy now, boss?"

"That's the spirit!" Kakashi chirped happily, smiling obnoxiously behind his porcelain mask. Luckily for him (and the state of his future progeny – that woman liked to threaten to castrate unruly team members), Shark couldn't see it. "I'm glad you see it my way. By the way, is Crow back?"

"...Still on an errand for the Hokage, sir," Bear rumbled. "Haven't seen him all day."

The large man didn't actually say 'good riddance', as unemotional and stoic as he was, but Kakashi knew him well enough to spot his discomfort.

The ANBU Captain didn't blame him. Not in the slightest. After all he'd been through in the last war, all the slaughter, the killing, the pain... even _he_ got the shivers around Crow. That boy was just _dangerous_.

"Right, radio silence, everyone," Kakashi snapped, his tone suddenly cutting and sharp. "Don't fail me now. Hokage-sama depends on us."

"Yes, sir!"

Kakashi snapped his book close, watching the small group in the clearing below warily, single good eye narrowed. The children were happily practicing their chakra control, the traveller watching and occasionally calling out advice from the shade of a nearby tree. The Hyūga heir and the Hokage were discussing something. Even from a distance, the ANBU soldier could see that something had the clansman on edge.

Kakashi loosened the sword in its sheath, just in case. He trusted none of the influential members of the major clans out of principle, especially after he found out how Obito had been treated by his family. The Uchiha may have been a harsh clan, but they paled to the draconian torture the Hyūga inflicted on the members of their Branch House.

Kakashi understood the need for the cursed seal. He understood that the Byakugan, one of the most valuable bloodlines in Konoha and greedily coveted by foreign hidden villages and missing-nin alike, had to be protected at all costs.

That didn't mean he had to _like_ the way it was protected.

Not to mention that the major clans liked to wean influence from the Hokage for their own if they had the opportunity to do so. The clans wielded far greater power than they ought to, at least in Kakashi's mind.

_But then again_, he thought wryly, _I'm an ANBU Captain. Hokage-sama's loyal weapon. Not exactly the most objective of opinions there, hmm?_

He saw movement in the clearing and spotted the two children and the traveller walking over to meet the Hokage and Hiashi Hyūga, the blond child bouncing ahead excitedly and jabbering to anyone who would listen to him.

Kakashi still thought that the boy reminded him very much of the child's father, the Yondaime Hokage. His teacher's loss still hurt, even after six long years, and he had tried to avoid talking to Naruto as much as possible. Not that he disliked the child – heavens no! – but his presence was a constant, painful reminder of all that Kakashi had lost, like an old scar that wouldn't fade.

He had protected Naruto at every opportunity, killing assassins and arresting idiotic villagers who thought of getting revenge on the 'demon brat' (without Naruto ever noticing – he was just that good), yet he was unsure if he would ever really get to know the blond child any better. He would have liked to, but Kakashi had long ago realized that he was lousy with kids – not entirely unreasonably so, considering that the white-haired killer never had much of a childhood himself – and hoped that someone more capable would take care of Naruto.

For that alone, he was grateful to the strange foreign musician that had trained Naruto these last one and a half years. He'd been the sole thing even remotely close to a father figure that Naruto had ever had. Kakashi watched as the traveller tipped his rice hat back, throwing his neck back to take a long gulp from the sake bottle that he seemed to carry around with him everywhere.

Not exactly a perfect role model, but hey.

_Well, a drunk eccentric uncle is fine too. Better than nothing, I guess. _

After a quick exchange of words, the two Hyūga politely bowed to the Hokage and left, the father leading his young daughter gently by the hand. "Rat, tail them until they leave the grounds."

"Roger that," the man said lazily. Kakashi threw a quick look at the leaving Hyūgas, unable to spot his subordinate in the foliage. Good. No need to drill covert tracking of individuals with his team. Those exercises were always a pain.

A flutter of leaves converged on the branch Kakashi was on, and his ninjatō was at the masked figure's throat before it had the chance to blink. Black eyes watched him calmly from behind the eye slits of a bird-shaped mask. The figure couldn't have been more than twelve.

"Oh," Kakashi said blandly. "It's you."

Crow didn't answer, the kunai poking Kakashi's stomach all the answer his team leader needed. _No one but him is that fast. _

"How did you find my location?" Kakashi asked quietly, sheathing his weapon as his opposite did the same.

For a brief moment, the black eyes of Uchiha Itachi flashed a bloody red between white porcelain. "Against the Sharingan, all illusions are useless," the teenager said evenly, the characteristic pride and arrogance of the Uchiha absent from his voice. Arrogance was one thing that Kakashi had never seen the prodigy express. He didn't need to. That statement was the simple truth.

Kakashi shrugged lazily. "I should have guessed, really. Still, to get through that illusion of mine..."

"It's quite powerful," Itachi acknowledged. "Without a dōjutsu, it's nearly impossible to see through. As expected of Kakashi-sempai."

"A compliment from Konoha's resident genjutsu master?" Kakashi said drily. "I need to celebrate this later." He took out his orange book from his pouch, finding his page again with practiced ease. "Shark is buying drinks after our shift is over. You coming along?"

Crow shook his head. "Unfortunately, I must decline. I have business to attend to."

"Your loss. Shark will be disappointed."

"She'll get over it." The grey-armoured ANBU soldier crouched low on the branch, observing the three people below in the clearing. "Is that who I think it is?" he asked, sounding mildly curious.

"Yes, that _is_ the Hokage, Crow. Well done for noticing."

"...Your sense of humour always fails to amuse me. I meant the boy."

Kakashi chuckled. "Well, sarcasm is always easier than actually making a joke. But to answer your question, that is the demon container, yes."

Crow kept observing them, unable to listen in on their conversation, probably due to a privacy jutsu the Hokage had set up. Naruto looked unnaturally subdued, the Hokage talking to him with a grave expression with the traveller at his side. Naruto suddenly stepped back, eyes wide.

Kakashi looked up sharply from his book, frowning behind his mask as the whiskered child stepped away from the two elders, looking at them with undisguised horror. He was shaking his head as if in denial, trembling.

Itachi spoke aloud what all of the Hokage's bodyguards were thinking. "Something's wrong."

Kakashi tapped his radio. "Team, do we have a chakra suppression tag?"

"I have one," Sword volunteered, his voice tense.

"If the boy makes a move towards the Hokage, slap that damn thing on him. Non-lethal submission holds _only_. That child is to remain unharmed, understand? If he releases the Kyuubi's chakra, get Hokage-sama out of here and run containment procedures."

Kakashi hated to even consider harming his teacher's only child, but he was the Hokage's bodyguard. The village leader's safety took priority right now, and a jinchūriki under obvious emotional stress was always dangerous, no matter how many people were pitted against him.

"Crow, get to your position."

"Captain." A torrent of leaves later, and Itachi was gone. As much as that boy gave him the creeps, Kakashi couldn't deny his professionalism. _Better to have the creepy prodigy on our side than on anyone else's. _

Suddenly, he felt a violent burst of chakra wash over him, emanating from the centre of the clearing. He saw Naruto, clutching his head as the blond boy fell to his knees, a cloud of red surrounding him, before the seasoned ANBU Captain nearly lost his hold on the branch as images burst into his mind, the malevolent energy screeching into his ears like a painful drill.

The chakra made him remember things. Destroyed houses, corpses scattered in the woods, a boy crushed underneath a boulder. He screwed his single eye shut as screams from long time past resounded in his ears, the feeling of utter despair and hopelessness eerily familiar. It was a chakra that he hadn't felt for nearly six years.

"NARUTO!" He heard the Sandaime's booming voice. A battlefield commander's voice, meant to be heard over the din of clashing swords and screams of the dying. "Calm down! You have to CALM DOWN! It's the only way to fight it!"

Kakashi wrenched both his eyes open, the stolen Sharingan spinning wildly, trying to look through the fog of bloody chakra that had invaded the training ground. He saw Naruto on his knees, the small boy holding his stomach and screaming in pain, a shrill sound that could have frozen blood. The Hokage was only a few steps away from him, trying to get closer to the suffering child, but unable to get through the malicious chakra that bit like the strongest acid.

The traveller had been thrown back by a vicious blast of wind, slamming him against a tree, lying there senselessly. The Third managed to hold his ground, digging his heels in and straining against the storm that was now picking up leaves from the trees. Kakashi watched with the Sharingan, horrified, as the Hokage took one step, then another, entering the fog of corroding chakra, stubbornly moving forward towards the boy that was tortured by his own rage.

When he reached him a moment later, his white robes were tattered and torn by the fox's energy. The Sandaime dropped down beside Naruto, hugging the small boy to his chest and simply holding him, whispering soothingly into his ear.

_It's working_, Kakashi thought with wonder as he felt the wind die down, seeing the red chakra dissipate in the air as its source refused to fuel their flames with his anger, the evil chakra returning to its host as Naruto went limp in the Hokage's arms.

A moment later, the ANBU team moved faster than they ever had before, surrounding the Hokage and the demon host. Bear tore the child from the village leader's arms, holding the child's arms at his side as the blond struggled in vain. Sword approached quickly, ready to slap the modified sealing tag onto Naruto's forehead, the other members tensing in anticipation of possible danger–

The Hokage had moved, faster than anyone his age would have been given credit for, and had cleanly broken Sword's wrist, the ANBU soldier repressing a scream of pain and surprise as he dropped the sealing tag. The Hokage let the man go, glaring at his bodyguards with icy eyes, pinning them in place.

"I gave no order to attack the child," he said quietly, the underlying threat obvious.

"But sir–!" Shark protested. "Didn't you just _see_ what happened? This is–"

"I'll thank you for not insulting my intelligence, Shark," the Hokage said harshly, immediately silencing any protest. "I know very well what _that_ was. As for using a standard sealing tag, we have _absolutely no idea_ how it will react with an unstable containment seal like the one holding the Kyūbi in Naruto, so as elaborate as it may be, I cannot allow you to use it on him. Now, Bear," he ordered, his voice as tranquil as it was dangerous, "_unhand that child before I truly lose my temper_."

Bear did so. Immediately.

Naruto fell to the ground, still clutching his stomach. He was crying, and Kakashi felt a momentary stab of pity, hating the demon that had forced such pain on a small child. He ruthlessly crushed it, watching emotionlessly as the Hokage approached the weeping boy.

"Naruto," he said gently, touching the boy's shoulder lightly. "Please, look at me."

Naruto moved faster than any child Kakashi had ever seen before, a sharp kunai nearly taking off the Hokage's head. The old man stepped back quickly, easily evading the attack, a worried look on his face. "Narut–"

"STAY BACK!" the boy screamed hysterically, his voice shrill and panicked, his kunai held out in a gesture to ward everyone around off. His eyes were blue again, not the glowing red they'd been just a moment ago, moving in a frenzy from the Hokage to the surrounding ANBU, who had all adopted fighting stances. Tears were running the six-year old child's face. "I don't want to hurt you!"

"Naruto, calm down," the Hokage said calmly, smiling his usual grandfatherly smile. "Everything's fine. You beat him. You suppressed the demon. Everything is g–"

"No!" Naruto bellowed, utterly terrified. "Everything's _not_ fine! 'Demon brat', they called me! And it's _TRUE_!"

Kakashi, his sword still drawn, shifted his weight carefully. Naruto's head snapped towards him, having caught the subtle movement, his eyes wide and fearful as he saw the drawn blade. "You're going to hurt me, aren't you?" he whispered.

"Dog-kun," the Hokage said loudly, "tell your team to stand down."

The scarecrow never took his eyes off his teacher's child, sword still raised. "No, sir."

The Hokage stilled. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" he asked, deceptively calm.

"Hokage-sama, this child is obviously unstable," Sword piped up, wincing as he nursed his broken wrist. "We have to–"

Kakashi saw Naruto fumble in the small pouch at his belt and willed himself to move, distracted as they all were, but he was too late. There was a flare of chakra, a loud bang, and the world went white. He heard yells of surprise, the sound of scuffling and muffled curses, a high-pitched keening in his ear.

When Kakashi's vision cleared again (and even then it was blurred and spotty, as if he had stared into the sun for far too long), he saw that his team were either holding their ears, grimacing behind their masks, or stumbling about as they tried to make sense of their surroundings.

Shark was swearing profusely, from what he could tell – which wasn't much; his ears were still ringing, her voice dulled. And you couldn't exactly read lips when your opposite wore a full-face mask. "...can't fucking believe...flashbang...stupid kid!"

"WHAT?" Kakashi yelled, far louder than he usually would have, and winced as his subordinate flinched, clasping her hands over her ears. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who had reacted badly to Naruto's little stunt.

"I said, 'I can't fucking believe that the stupid kid managed to play us with a flashbang tag!'" Shark repeated, sounding absolutely furious as she stood, stumbling. "Who the hell gave him that thing, anyway?"

"I did," an annoyed voice growled. Kakashi whirled around to spot a limping Tabibito approaching them, his travelling cloak dirtied and his rice hat cracked at the side. The man looked annoyed, grey eyes piercing. "We started weapons training and evasion tactics just two months ago. Brat's a damn natural if he managed to pull the wool on a complete ANBU team, don't you think?"

"Impressive," the Hokage remarked, quietly smoking his pipe, his eyes closed to adjust to the momentary blindness. "I think I should compliment you, Tabibito. That little trick surprised even me. You're well ahead of our little bet."

"Thanks, I guess. Does that mean I can drink myself into a stupor now?"

"No."

"Damn. Well, if we don't find the kid soon, I'll have to do it anyway. No idea what kind of trouble he'll get himself into, now that he knows that he's the jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails and run off to gods-knows-where. Spirits..."

"He knows?" Kakashi asked, alarmed. His ANBU shifted nervously, looking as unsettled as he himself felt.

The Hokage nodded as Tabibito uncorked a saké bottle and started drinking. "Unfortunately, Dog-san, we couldn't delay the inevitable any longer. There were worries that the demon was influencing Naruto and hindering his progress. The sooner Naruto learns of his tenant, the sooner he can learn to control its power. Or cooperate with it. Whichever comes first."

"With all due respect, sir," Bear rumbled worriedly, "we need to find him _now_. What if he leaves the village out of fear or anger? Or–"

"The brat's pulled a lot of crazy stunts, but he won't leave the village," Tabibito interrupted, rolling his eyes. "He damn well loves this place. Beats me why, considering how he's been treated by the folks here, but he's not running off. Might be the more sensible thing to do, but then again, that kid is anything _but_ sensible."

Shark shifted, agitated. "Well, we need to track him down–"

"You'll do no such thing," the traveller said sharply, glaring at the masked woman. "You just scared the utter crap out of him, attacking him like that after his little episode. He seems to be convinced that he's a demon or dangerous to others; if you go after him, there's no telling what he'll do." The man chuckled, darkly amused. "Besides, you won't find him. Brat knows this city like the back of his hand. And he learned evasion and survival tactics personally from _me_ – trust me, if he doesn't want to be found, you won't even see a whisker of him. Kid's got talent."

The Hokage smiled warmly. "I'm tempted to already give him his forehead protector."

"Yeah, brilliant, let's give the kid an early graduation," Rat muttered. "Then we'll have two creepy prodigies running around as ninja, only one's a crazy-obsessive psycho and the other a notorious prankster that likes to wear _orange_. And I can't tell which one is worse. Can't fucking wait."

"Don't let Crow hear you," Kakashi warned, amused despite himself.

"Don't worry; I'd like my mind to remain whole and unraped. Is that even a word? Whatever." Rat cocked his head sideways as he looked around, intrigued. "Where the hell is he, anyway?"

There was a small sound of displaced air asthe last member of the team appeared. "Right here," Crow said quietly, an unconscious body slung over his teenaged shoulder. He threw it at the feet of the other ANBU soldiers, patting down the man's pouches and pocketing his weapons quickly and professionally.

"Well, well, what do we have there?" Shark asked, her tone growing dangerously vicious as she marched towards the prone figure, turning him over with a steel-toed boot. She lifted one of the man's eyelids and whistled quietly. "Well, I'll be damned. A Hyūga. What'd he do to piss you off?"

"He attempted to spy on this little meeting long after his charges left. I found it suspicious, so I incapacitated him," Itachi stated matter-of-factly.

Kakashi sighed as he bound the man's arms behind his back, using a finger trap to immobilize his digits. No need to have a prisoner form hand seals. "Genjutsu? Again?" The unconsciousness and unharmed body were easily recognizable symptoms.

Itachi gave a nearly imperceptible shrug. "I'm good at it." He turned to address the Hokage, the porcelain beak tilting as if curious. "Hokage-sama, it is highly likely that this man's activities are connected to the subject matter of our previous talk..."

"Is that so?" The Hokage said, smiling. "Well then, I'm sure that Inoichi will manage to get any information we may need out of him."

Rat shivered. The Yamanaka were feared for the way they could break minds – using their clan secrets like a blunt hammer in battle and like a lockpick when interrogating Konoha's enemies. Their victims usually weren't in great shape afterwards. Or even remotely sane, for that matter.

"You know what to do, Itachi."

Itachi bowed deeply. "By your leave, Hokage-sama." A moment later, he dissolved into a murder of crows that flew off in a tightly packed swarm, the Hyūga's body disappearing with him.

The clearing was silent until Tabibito spoke up. "I like that kid," he chuckled. "Reminds me of the way they used to train us kids back in the day. All of us killers before we were ten years old, eh, Saru? Good times." He polished off his bottle, singing quietly to himself. "Little soldier boys, all marching off to war..."

"So, Hokage-sama," Rat said loudly, trying to suppress his discomfort at the man's casual acceptance of the unnerving Uchiha, "what about our demon host? Shall we capture him?"

"No," the Hokage said calmly, breathing out a lungful of smoke. "You will remain at my side for now. I will get word to the village gates; Naruto won't be able to leave without me knowing. But as long as he stays in the village, I have no intention of seeking him out." The Hokage's eyes turned sorrowful and guilty. "He is in a lot of pain right now. Pain that _I_ have caused. But he will have to accept reality, as brutal as it may be."

"Hokage-sama," Kakashi said calmly, "someone needs to talk to the jinchūriki. Leaving him alone like this would be detrimental to his mental health."

The Hokage studied the masked ANBU Captain for a moment, who simply stood there, relaxed and nonchalant, hands in his pockets. He knew that Kakashi was anything but.

_Speaking from experience, aren't we, my boy? ...Forgive me. Forgive me for not having protected you all. Forgive me for taking so many things from you, as necessary as those sacrifices may have been. Forgive me for being an old fool and for once having been a young one. _

"I'll talk to him," a voice grumbled, sounding slightly slurred.

The traveller looked around at the looks he was getting as he threw the empty bottle over his shoulder. "Whatcha all looking at?" he demanded. "Someone's gotta do it, right? The brat knows me well enough, Hiruzen's got his hands full with being a military dictator, and if I'm not sorely mistaken, you ANBU folks should make a trip to the hospital to make sure you can still hear and see properly. A flashbang tag going off right in your face can't be healthy, you know."

"What about you, then?" Shark snarled angrily. "You're not worried about your hearing?"

The traveller snorted. "Hell, I'm not too worried about my eyes and ears, considering the kid threw me into a damn tree thataways, well out of the range of that little toy of his." Tabibito stretched, a few bones audibly cracking, and the old man grimaced. "I'm more worried that I broke some bone or another, always a pain to heal from those, especially in my old age... Well, whatever, I'll swing by the hospital after finding the brat." He waved, walking off towards the village. "See y'all later."

"Tabibito!" a voice called out, halting him.

"Yeah?"

The Hokage reached into his pocket and threw something, metal glinting as it sailed through the air. Tabibito snatched it out of the air with two fingers without really looking, only for his eyes to widen when he recognized the object.

He stared at the Hokage. "You sure about giving him this, Saru? It means a lot, you know. And he's young. Very young."

The wizened village leader nodded solemnly. "I know exactly how much it means. Tell Naruto..." The man hesitated for only a moment. "Tell Naruto that if he agrees to protect the village, it will be his. But if he refuses it, tell him that I will respect his decision." _Even if it pains me._

"Heh. Yeah, I'll pass that on. Later." There was a gust of wind and the traveller dissolved into a cloud of sand that dispersed without a trace a moment later, taking the travelling musician with him.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. _Sand Body Flicker... haven't seen that in a while. I knew that the old fogey had hidden depths, but that is a rather unusual skill to have in Fire Country. _He glanced at his benefactor, who looked lost in thought. _Oh well. I'll worry about that later. _

"ANBU," the Hokage announced suddenly, his bodyguards snapping to attention immediately. "You're all dismissed. I want you to go to the hospital and have your hearing and eyesight checked, just in case. Sword, get that wrist looked at." He gave the masked ANBU soldier a rueful smile. "I apologize for harming you in that manner, but I saw no other way to stop you. Please talk to Doctor Kiyoshi, my personal physician – he'll treat you faster than the medics in the ANBU ward."

"Sir." The man nodded stiffly, and the village leader turned back to his head of security. "Kakashi, I want to see you in my office at twenty-two-hundred. I will have a new assignment for you and your team. Protecting me is obviously a waste of your talents."

Kakashi managed a movement that was both a salute and a shrug at the same time. "If you say so, sir."

A ghost of a smile flickered over the Hokage's aged face. "Good. Get some rest, ladies and gentlemen. You'll need it; we have a lot of work ahead of us. Dismissed."

"SIR!" And with a blink of an eye, the masked soldiers were gone as if they had never existed.

The Hokage was left behind, staring alone at the cenotaph that adorned the centre of the training ground. He knew it was only one of dozens of memorials scattered around the village, but few spots were as serene as this clearing, the water of the nearby river babbling cheerfully and the wind dancing in the leaves. Its beauty belied that this was a memorial to the dead, who would never laugh and smile again.

He approached it with a heavy heart, staring at the white symbols carved into black stone. He read each name carefully, remembering them with a clarity he rarely found nowadays. He'd been Kage of this hidden village for nearly forty years now – most of the names on this memorial had been carved during his tenure. He remembered them all: their names, where they had died, how they had died, what they left behind, and what they died for.

Tadao Utatane. Seventeen years old. Chūnin. Provided a rearguard when his platoon escaped from contested enemy territory during the First Shinobi World War. A tall man with a sharp chin and cropped brown hair, stoic and calm. He fought viciously before being captured, enduring hours of torture followed by summary execution. His corpse, surrounded by the bodies of several enemy shinobi he'd killed, was recovered by an ANBU squadron, heavily mutilated. His wife, only married to him for two months before his death, was unable to recognize him.

_Koharu never quite forgave me for her husband's death_, the Hokage thought sadly, _even though she tried to. Some wounds are just too deep to simply disappear, even after so many years. _

Another name on the list. Nanami Asakaze. Thirty-two years old. Specialist Jōnin. A very skilled combat medic and physician, she had been killed twelve years ago by a group of bandit rōnin during one of her customary visits to one of the border towns in the north where professional medical attention could get infrequent. Her head had been stuck on a spear and paraded before the horrified townspeople, her killers taunting the local soldiers and city guards, all of whom were unable to do anything about their opponents – all of them samurai, supremely skilled with the use of the sword. When the bandits left, her body was given a decent funeral by the grieving townspeople.

A month later, the corpses of her killers were found lying outside the city gates, a note from the Hokage pinned to their chests thanking the townspeople for their kind treatment of the dead ninja. No retribution, however, could bring back the bespectacled woman with the large grin and fashionable ponytail that had her male colleagues at the hospital scramble over each other to ask her out to dinner.

'_I want to save people, Hokage-sama! I mean, learning how to kick ass is all fine and good, but someone has to patch people up at the end of the day, right? Why not me, then?'_

The Hokage closed his eyes painfully, remembering the day when Nanami's elderly mother broke down in his office, weeping, begging him on her knees to make her daughter come back home. He couldn't. All he could do was have her body exhumed for a burial in the family shrine, small comfort that it was.

And then there were many others that had died on missions whose existence were denied by the Emperor and the Shogun for reasons of national security, that had been driven to despair by the horrors of war and killed themselves, and those had merely been crippled so badly that they would never be able to become shinobi again, or anything else for that matter, doomed to a pitiful existence of invalids within the village walls. Some of them had family to take care of them. Others didn't. And some shinobi (but those were rare) had simply died peacefully in their sleep.

All of them were heroes, but not all of their names were inscribed on this stone. He reached out, tracing a kanji symbol carefully, running his finger down the list one by one, each one a reminder of a face, a smile, a friendship, a child that he'd watched grow and then sent to his death. They had all trusted him.

Ah. There he was. Minato Namikaze.

Sarutobi looked sadly at the stone. Kushina's name wasn't on it, considering that her existence and death at the claws of the Kyūbi was kept under wraps. All to protect Naruto.

Those two, some of the loveliest people he had ever known, were gone too.

The Third hated that black stone, with its accusingly bright white script that stung the eye. It was a testament to his failures, his inability to protect the village he loved. And yet he knew it was necessary. It still tormented him, the faces of each person named watching him, mocking him with their memory. Many were smiling, some sneering, others impassive, each just as he had known them in life.

The Hokage's eyes clenched shut, bowing his head. "Spirits, Enlightened One, forgive me," he whispered. "Forgive me for being selfish. But please, I beg of you, please... I don't want Naruto's name to be written on this stone. His father is already on there." He clasped his wizened hands in prayer, something that he hadn't done in quite a while. "Please, I know you have never answered my questions and prayers, but I have followed your teachings all my life. I made offerings. I treaded carefully in places of worship. I observed the rituals. I have treated all life with respect, even when I had to choose who would live and who would die." His voice cracked. "Please, I deserve no pity, but... protect Naruto. At least, protect him. I beg of you."

When he opened his eyes, the world hadn't changed. It was still the same. He hadn't actually expected an earth-shattering epiphany, but he had hoped that there would be a small sign that showed that his plea had been heard, no matter how small or insignificant it may have been.

But no. Nothing. Only a black stone with the names of children that would never return, echoes of their voices whispering in his ear, and a cold autumn wind that made him shiver.

When the Hokage returned to his lonely tower, he cursed that word and all that it meant.

Jinchūriki.

_Sacrifice_.

...

The original manga series of _Naruto _was written and drawn by _Masashi Kishimoto_, originally published by _Shueisha_ in 1997, and is still ongoing at the time of writing (May 2012) after sixty published volumes and two different anime adaptations: one simply titled _Naruto_ by _Studio Perrot_ that premiered in October 2002 and ended in February 2007, and its sequel _Naruto: Shipuuden_ (Naruto: Hurricane Chronicles) by the same studio that premiered in February 2008 and is still ongoing at the time of writing. Various tie-in works like novels, video games, and a series of theatrical movies have been published to date.

Again, please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.


	11. Chapter XI – Trust

DO NOTE that this story IS NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of _fanfiction_ based on the original work and its associated franchise, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with the Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.

…

Ladies and gentlemen, goodnight and good evening to you, and welcome to the next chapter of _Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox_! I hope you didn't mind waiting for this update, but rewriting my lost data files took far too longer than I had anticipated. Please, forgive the delay. Thanks you for all the reviews, pageviews, folows and favourites **- **they kept me going when I thought that I never was going to have enough time to get this done. Thank you. You are all awesome.

This chapter is, in my opinion, the conversation that someone should have had with Naruto **- **about the Nine-Tails, his father, and what it means to be Hokage. And as you can probably see in this chapter, I am not a supporter of the 'Kyuubi is Naruto's best friend' idea.

But my rambling is not really what you're for, is it? Onward! Leave me a review if you liked it, hated it, or anything else you might want to say!

Please, enjoy this chapter and leave a review. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

...

**Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox**

**Chapter XI - Trust**

**…**

Naruto fled.

There was no other word for it; he was fleeing, running away. He was running away from his Grandpa, from Uncle Tabi, but mostly he was running away from the ANBU, those blank-faced killers who would hunt him down and hurt him, perhaps kill him. Because their duty was to protect the village, and Naruto was dangerous. To Grandpa, to Uncle Tabi, and to everyone else in the village. He was running like a man possessed; a monster.

He'd taken to the roofs. Uncle Tabi had told him that it was always easier to hide in a crowd, but he couldn't do it here. Everyone knew him, from sight or from rumours. He'd always thought it was weird how everyone managed to recognize him, no matter where he went.

Now he knew why. They loathed him. Were scared of him. He tried very hard not to break down and sob as he leapt from roof to roof, as far. He was a monster. Oh, _spirits_.

…_**Running away, child? Have your fellow ants abandoned you?**_

A voice. There was a voice talking to him, but he hadn't picked up any sound. He looked around, panicked. "Who are you?"

_**Oh, come now**_, the voice continued idly. _**Let's not play pretend with each other. You know **_**exactly**_** who I am. Why, your grandfather and uncle told you not two moments ago, didn't they?**_

"…Kyūbi?"

_**So there actually **_**is**_** a brain behind that thick skull of yours. Fascinating. **_

Naruto gritted his teeth as he started running again. '_Get out of my head!'_

The dark voice chuckled. _**Oh, I would love to, little one**_, it said, its voice smooth and silken with amusement. _**But, you see, as much as I would want to leave your… 'head', as empty as it may be, I honestly can't, no matter how hard I want to. The seal bars me from leaving my prison. It seems we are stuck with each other.**_

It laughed again as Naruto whimpered, clapping his hands over his ears. _**Oh, don't be so glum. Think of it this way, child – at least you can enjoy my pleasant company and intelligent conversation. Few have had the privilege over the centuries. Well, I killed them afterwards, so it wasn't much of a privilege, wouldn't you agree?**_

"Go away," Naruto whispered, stumbling over Konoha's roofs. "Go _AWAY_!"

_**I can't.**_ And this time, the voice _snarled_, a menacing sound more terrifying than anything Naruto had ever heard or imagined. _**The seal imprisons me, child. I cannot leave, unless I am freed. **_The Beast suddenly made a small huff of amusement, a hint of sadistic glee in it. _**I was surprised, though… I thought that I was the epitome of cruelty and madness. To imprison me within a newborn child, condemning him to eternal torture… Well, it looks like humanity has surprised me yet again. How fun!**_

"Who?" Naruto yelled, snarling like a beast. "Who did it, damn it? Answer me!"

The Nine-Tails was only silent for a moment, though, and its whispers continued as Naruto leapt from roof to roof towards the village walls, quiet and malicious and _Naruto couldn't stop listening_. _**I have been a prisoner for a long time, little one,** it whispered,** far longer than I ever thought possible.**_ _**So long… I have forgotten how many years it has been. Imprisoned, forced to serve petty human masters in their whims… and suddenly, one day I was free. **_

It sighed wistfully. _**Oh, you cannot imagine the feeling. Free to roam the wild, to bask in my power, to change the world as I saw fit once more! **_And then the voice growled, a thunderous sound that made the hairs on Naruto's neck stick on end and made him shiver in the hot summer sun. _**And then **_**he**_** came. **_

'…_Who came?'_ Naruto asked, almost too afraid to ask.

_**Ah, but you already know, don't you?**_ the voice whispered quietly, and an image flashed across Naruto's mind of a large, dark cavern, two glowing yellow eyes fixed on him from the darkness and a large maw with far too many teeth grinning at him. _**After all, you were there yourself… and you have read of his exploits, admired him… An idol, some might say… **_

Another picture flashed across his mind, an image of a tall man in a flowing fire-patterned coat with his arms crossed, blond, spiky hair standing out harshly against the burning horizon.

Naruto remembered all too well who had stopped the Nine-Tails from destroying Konoha. And it didn't take too long to figure out who had put the seal on him. Who had made him a monster. "No…"

_**Yes**_, the Beast whispered gleefully, basking in Naruto's stupefied despair as he understood. _**Oh yes, child, it was **_**him**_**. Your idol, your own **_**father**_** was the one who imprisoned me in you, who condemned you to life of neglect and pain, who shackled me to a worthless bag of **_**MEAT!**

The last word came out in a roar, and Naruto fumbled his grip on the next façade, managing to get a one-handed hold just in time. Splinters bit into his hand, pain lancing through his arm as inch-long pieces of wood bit into his arm. He blinked rapidly, and realized he was crying, tears running down his whiskered cheeks. "You're lying… you're lying!"

_**I have seen everything you have endured, child**_, the voice whispered, chuckling. _**And I saw everything that led to my imprisonment. I am a spirit, child. Lies are forbidden to us. Do you think I would lie to you? Truly?**_

Despair flooded Naruto as he recognized the monster's words, and the Beast hissed. _**Yes... Not long now.**_

Naruto blinked the tears out of his eyes, still hanging from the facade. _**...What do you mean?**_

_**Oh, nothing much**_, the Beast said, laughing. _**Only for you to drown in your despair, to tear yourself apart. All so that I can be **_**free**_** again. **_

_What? What are you talking about?_

The Nine-Tails laughed again, a sound of rumbling thunder that nearly deafened him. Naruto grimaced as pain lanced through his mind, and he suddenly thought that _something_ tried to claw its way out of his stomach. He screamed.

_**The seal is weak**_, the Beast whispered as the pain intensified, his mind nearly gone from the pain and horror. _**Your father was skilled, child, more skilled than any other that came before him, but he was still at death's door. He made mistakes – and every prison, no matter how strong, has its weak spots.**_ It purred, content._** And I've had enough time, years, to look for them.**_

It cackled as Naruto screamed again, as he felt as if someone was driving a serrated blade through his stomach, opening his belly bit by bit. _**Yes... Your despair, your pain, your fear; give it to me, all of it! Then I shall be free again, free to destroy this pathetic village, free to kill and maim as I please!**_

"I won't let you!" Naruto screamed out, the little boy clutching his head. He looked up wildly and started to climb up the building's wooden facade. He needed to get away, _away_ from the voice, away from the village. "I won't let you, you bastard; I swear it!"

_**Too late, little one**_, the voice whispered maliciously. _**See for yourself. **_

And Naruto did see, to his horror, that the hands he was using to climb were no longer hands. His fingernails had grown longer and sharpened into grotesque claws, his lengthened fingers cracking the wood with their increased strength as he climbed up. The splinters in his hands were violently driven out, blood following them in spurts, and sparks of red chakra were already knitting his skin back together.

_**It's only a matter of time now...**_

The pain was beyond anything he had ever thought possible, but Naruto gritted his teeth as he kept climbing, ignoring the pain and claws and the monster. "You bastard…" he snarled, feeling long canines on his tongue and shivering. "I won't let you hurt them! Any of them, _you hear me!_"

_**Why, child?**_ the monster growled. _**Why defy me? I have seen the way the way your fellows treat you. I was there, child. I was there, every time they glared at you with hatred in their eyes, every time you were neglected at the orphanage, every time you had to beg for food and were refused, and every time you were helped out of a store with a boot! **_

_Fuck you!_ Naruto shouted in his mind as he scrabbled to the building's roof, ran over to the other side and leapt clearly over the open street to the next roof, gathering momentum. _You won't hurt any of them, you bastard!_

_**Why?**_ the voice repeated angrily. _**They hate you. They **_**all**_** hate you. Your death would be celebrated in the streets. Let me break free, and I will take revenge for every single cruelty you have suffered! I will pay it back tenfold! **_

"FUCK! YOU!" Naruto roared and pushed back as hard as he could, and suddenly other images flashed through his mind, happier memories.

Teuchi-san and Ayame-chan giving him ramen when he was hungry. Iruka-nii taking him to buy clothes when his others had turned to rags. Going on walks in the park with Grandpa and listening to his stories. Training with Uncle Tabi and listening to him play the lute, taking lessons from him as he plucked the strings. Playing Go with Mayumi-nee-san and Shizuka-nee-san. Watching Hinata-chan climb trees, try to do the same, and then laugh when he got it right. Walking through the red light district in the evening, where his neighbours greeted him as one of their own, an outcast.

His legs pumped harder as he picked up speed, snarling.

_**Why?**_ the voice repeated, but Naruto could have sworn that it sounded quieter now, unsure.

Naruto leapt over a busy street, shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Because this is my _home_, you son of a bitch!"

…

"Well, well, well," Tabibito muttered to himself as he ambled through Konoha's market district, bottle of saké in hand. "Brat managed to give me the slip. I think congratulations are in order." He grumbled unhappily, throwing back some more of the sharp alcohol. "After I kick his ass all over the block for throwing me into a tree, of course. Tch."

He glanced along the assorted market stalls where traders loudly praised their merchandise and hawked their wares, interested customers haggling loudly and enthusiastically with stubborn shopkeepers. "Now where exactly could he be...?"

To say that Tabibito was annoyed that Naruto had managed to evade him for so long would be like saying he had a mild alcohol problem. At first, it was easy to track the young jinchūriki from the training ground, considering that he was leaking demonic chakra like a rusty bucket.

After a few hundred yards, however, the trail started to thin to an ever smaller trickle of malevolent chakra that the old traveller found more and more difficult to follow – Tabibito may have been a moderately decent sensor thanks to his mastery of wind techniques, but Konoha, being a _very_ large ninja village, had abnormally huge levels of background chakra, making it nearly impossible for a sensor of his mediocre calibre to track a single individual's chakra signature across the whole expanse of the village.

On one hand, the fact that he couldn't track Naruto was a good sign: the thinning release of demonic chakra meant that Naruto had somehow managed to get control over his tenant, or at least reduce its influence on the seal, one way or another.

Had the Nine-Tails actually been released, even partly, and Tabibito was sure that he would have noticed something. He may have been slightly tipsy, but even _he_ wouldn't have missed the rampant destruction, mass panic, and nightmare-inducing chakra-cloak coating the whole horizon a bloody red. He'd need a few barrels of saké before he failed to register something like _that_.

On the other hand, this was a bad sign, because he had no bloody clue where the brat actually was.

Tabibito's thought on the matter were as drunkenly eloquent as ever. _Koharu's gonna nail my balls to her mantelpiece for this. _

The old traveller had been searching for hours at the spots Naruto would visit during the day. Ichiraku's ramen stand had been near empty, and the owner hadn't seen Naruto in quite a while, his young daughter even threatening him to bring back their favourite customer for dinner every once in a while, _or else_. Tabibito had hurriedly agreed, if only because he was sure that the girl's cooking ladle was heavy enough to cause grievous bodily harm, and she looked as if she knew how to use it.

The Hokage Tower was also free of any orange-clad troublemaker, as the ANBU squad stationed there seemed slightly more relaxed than usual – when Naruto had started to prank them during his visits, the Hokage had found it most amusing and closed both eyes to his shenanigans, as it kept his bodyguards on their toes. Tabibito had met Iruka stamping a mountain of paperwork, but the scarred genin had seen neither hair nor whisker of his adoptive little brother all day. He worriedly suggested checking the Dancing Dragon, the place that Naruto nowadays considered his true home.

The bordello itself was conspicuously Naruto-free, however, seeing as Mayumi and Shizuka were actually relaxing around a pot of tea. Naruto, being hyperactive, easily distracted, and having a mischievous streak a mile wide, had taken to the nasty habit of pranking the other inhabitants of the Dancing Dragon, cheekily justifying it as "Ninja training!" Mayumi, cold, distant, and proudly vain of her good looks (most of the time), had been a favourite target of his. Shizuka, who on the other hand was nice, cheerful, and responsible, did her best to rein in the small orange ball of energy and stop him from driving her best friend to despair, with mixed results.

The only one spared from Naruto's pranking campaigns was Ichirai Hōshi himself, who seemed to be the only person Naruto was genuinely terrified of. The scarred brothel owner mostly viewed the boy's shenanigans with good humour, though he occasionally reprimanded the young boy when he went too far, appeasing an enraged Mayumi when she had to change her hair colour _again_ and consoling a despairing Shizuka when her efforts to educate Naruto went nowhere.

Calling Naruto a difficult child would have been the understatement of the era.

Yet when Tabibito turned up with news that the young demon host had disappeared, the two young courtesans looked quite ready to comb the village street by street to find him – even if a scowling Mayumi said she would only do so "To teach the little brat a lesson he won't forget so quickly!" Hōshi had discreetly begun questioning his customers and alerted his friends in the shinobi force to see if they had spotted any sign of the elusive blond hyperactive ninja-in-training.

In the end, Tabibito left to keep looking by himself, reassured and glad that there were people in the village who _cared_.

Now, however, the old lute player frowned unhappily, tapping his temple with his bottle of high-proof alcohol. "Think, think, think, Tabi," he muttered. "It's been _hours_ since he ran away. He hasn't left the village, or else Sarutobi would have already kicked my ass all the way back to Suna. But he hasn't been spotted by anyone in the village, which is damn near _impossible_ in a place crawling with ninja. So where could a scared, hyperactive, easily distracted wannabe-Hokage go to hide from everyone?"

It took only a moment for the pieces to fall into place, and then he repeatedly started hitting his head with the saké bottle. "I am – officially – the biggest – _fucking_ – idiot – in the world! Of course he would go _there_, of all places! Where else!?" He glared accusingly at the cracked bottle. "I blame you for all this."

Throwing the offending container as far away as he could, he took to the roofs, leaping as fast as he could towards the Hokage Monument as the sun went lower and lower in the sky, shadows painting the stern faces overlooking the village.

…

He'd been right on the money, after all – the higher and higher he climbed the rocky surface of the monument, the thicker the Nine-Tails' chakra could be felt, like a leaden, heavy feeling in the air. It seemed to come from the corner right over the Fourth Hokage's head, Naruto having apparently decided to find refuge with his hero. Or former hero, or his father, or the man who cursed him – Tabibito wasn't entirely sure what Naruto thought of him anymore.

Well, the traveller thought as he puffed and puffed after clinging to the uneven surface of the monument for a few minutes too long, at least the beast doesn't seem to be in control, considering the amount of demonic chakra he's putting out…

Which was surprisingly little, as it turned out. But instead of a violent massive explosion of malevolent chakra that shook trees and induced nightmares, there was a small, constant trickle adding to the oppressive, evil energy floating around in the air – the Fourth's seal was definitely leaking, weakened by Naruto's warring emotions and dented when the Nine-Tails tried to break out earlier today.

But that was alright, Tabibito tried to reassure himself. Leaking seals could be fixed, no matter how damaged they were. Well, it actually depended on the level of damage done to the basic structure and surrounding ground-layer matrix, but still—

"Ah, screw this," the old traveller grumbled to himself. "If the demon does break out, I'll die old and drunk. One out of two ain't bad. Better than I ever hoped for, to be honest."

And so he muttered to himself during the march across the top of the Monument until he reached the spot above the Fourth Hokage's spiky fringe. And sure enough, sitting there with his legs crossed was a small figure wearing a hideous orange jumpsuit and being unnaturally still.

Tabibito moved slowly and carefully towards an unusually quiet Naruto – the seal may have have been only damaged, but the Beast might have still torn apart his mind from the inside, and—

"Hey, Uncle," Naruto said loudly, startling him slightly. He sounded cheerful. "Took you pretty long to find me, huh?"

"Yeah," Tabibito agreed, blinking. "Yeah, you're getting pretty good at this escape and evasion business, I have to admit. I wasn't thinking properly, to be honest, but hey, good on you. …D'you mind if I have a seat?"

The boy shrugged, grinning. "Mountain's free to everyone, right?"

"Right." The traveller grunted as he let himself drop onto the rocky surface next to the boy.

For a while, both silently watched the sun drawing closer and closer to the horizon, neither of them saying anything. Higher, far higher than the Hokage Tower, none of the sounds of the city reached the quiet plateau of the monument. Up here, it was eerily quiet – serene, even.

_Ironic, that_, Tabibito thought idly as he observed the coming and goings below. _Some folks spend years wandering the wilderness to find a quiet place to meditate, to find peace in themselves or whatever, and the perfect spot for that is right here, on top of the world's largest hidden village. Life's funny like that. _

He uncorked one of his many sake bottles, the first sound to be heard up here in minutes. "So, kid," he said casually, glancing over to Naruto. "You feeling okay?"

"Of course I am!" Naruto said loudly, jumping up and grinning widely. It only grew wider and more manic as he babbled on at high speed. "I mean, there's nothing to be worried about, is there? I'm Naruto Uzumaki, the guy's who's gonna be Hokage, right? The guy's who's gonna be the strongest in the village and protect everyone, _right_? There's really _NOTHING_ to worry about—"

Tabibito slapped him across the head, hard. "Of course something's wrong, you idiot! You'd have to be an inhuman monster not to be bothered and worried about having a batshit insane spirit of homicidal fury sealed inside of you, by your own daddy, no less!" He roughly grabbed Naruto's shoulder and forced him to sit down. "Now park your butt down here, calm the hell down, and _stop lying_, will ya?"

"Who do you think I'm lying to?" Naruto asked, his broken smile replaced by a scowl. "Come on, old man, spit it out!"

"To me, to yourself… Doesn't really matter in the end, does it?" The traveller sipped moodily at his bottle, for once not enjoying the taste of the sharp alcohol. "Believe me, lying ain't good for you."

"Hello, shinobi here, remember?" Naruto muttered, huddling and hugging his knees to himself. "Lying is supposed to be something we're good at. You said that yourself, Uncle."

"Yeah, er, what I meant when I said that was, uh… Ah, fuck it." Tabibito grimaced and downed another mouthful of saké. "Sometimes, lying just doesn't help. Now's one of those times. Besides, I was probably lying as well when I was telling you all that crap. Drunk too, I bet."

Naruto frowned, confused. "But if you were a liar, but you were lying when you said that, then—"

"Don't even try to change the subject, brat," the old traveller warned, glaring. "My head's full enough as it is. Now – no lying, no stories, no bullshitting – tell me what's eating you."

"An evil fox spirit is trying to claw its way out of my stomach," Naruto said, staring blankly ahead at the horizon.

Tabibito winced. _Alright, perhaps 'What's eating you' wasn't exactly the best way to phrase _that_ particular question._

"And, uh, anything else?"

"…I can hear it talk in my head, Uncle," the small boy whispered as he just kept staring blankly ahead, his hands turning white as they clenched around his knees hard enough to draw blood. He started to rock back and forth, shaking uncontrollably. "It's _talking_ to me, telling me to go out into the village and _kill people_, to tear them apart limb by limb, to burn down their houses, to kill you and Grandpa and Iruka-nii and Shizuka-nee-chan and Mayumi-nee-chan and Hinata-chan and _I don't want to_, but it just doesn't stop talking and whispering and it shows me these images of all of you _dying_ and—"

A sharp slap across the back of his head brought Naruto back to his sense. He turned to yell at the traveller, only to see the old man sitting there, pale and more worried than he had ever seen him before.

"Don't look at me like that," the traveller muttered. "Please don't look at me with those eyes, kid. Please."

Naruto blinked, confused. "What eyes?"

The traveller sighed, draining another gulp from the bottle and looking away. "Those eyes, like you just survived a massacre all alone, or just walked across a battlefield, or… hell, I don't know." He glanced at Naruto helplessly. "It's hard to explain, but I'm sure you'll be able to recognize them some day." He swore. "Damn it all, the world's fucked up enough as it is."

For a moment, both sat there in silence, each not knowing what to say to the other.

"Uncle," Naruto spoke quietly, "did you ever meet my dad?"

"Twice. I never really knew him, though."

"It's just," Naruto began before clamming up, shivering. "I want to know why he did this to me. To his own _son_. Parents are supposed to protect their kids, aren't they? Didn't he love me at all?"

Never, on all his travels, had the traveller from Suna seen a child a young and so desperate for any kind of reassurance, any at all, that he hadn't been cursed by the father he had never known and yet always admired.

Karura had known how to handle kids. She would have known exactly what to say, how to make this poor kid feel better, how to make him _understand_ why all these horrible things were happening to him.

But she was gone. And only a useless old man was left.

He sighed, resignedly rubbing his eyes. "Look," he began. "It's not that simple."

"Then explain it to me!" Naruto pleaded, blue eyes wide and begging. "Please, Uncle! You know everything, don't you!? You always explain stuff that I don't know! I promise I'll understand, Uncle, I swear!"

"It's not a question of me knowing everything," Tabibito grumbled. "'Cause I don't. I sure as hell don't, kid. I'm just an old man who managed to grow old when others didn't, Naruto. Nothing more."

The boy refused to look away, blue eyes growing familiarly determined, and Tabibito sighed in resignation. "Alright, alright; I get it," he mumbled, again letting the alcohol run down his throat and thinking quickly.

"…you know your daddy was the Hokage, right?"

Naruto nodded solemnly. "Yeah. The Fourth Hokage, the Scourge of Iwa."

"That title doesn't really matter, brat. What's important is that he was the Hokage. That means he was responsible for _everyone_ living down there." He swept out the hand holding his bottle over the whole expanse of the village stretching out below them. "Everyone from the strongest jōnin to the poorest street rat. Question is, now: _why,_ exactly, was he made the Hokage?"

"…because he was strong?"

Tabibito shook his head. "That's part of it, yeah, but it ain't the most important bit. See, there's folks out there that are really, really strong, some of them ninja and some of them not, but they're far too dumb or short-sighted to actually do anything worthwhile with that strength. Too stupid to find a pencil even if it was stuck right up their arse, but still insanely strong, see what I mean?"

Naruto chuckled, giving him a half-grin. "I get it, Uncle."

Tabibito nodded encouragingly. "Good, we're getting somewhere – now why would you're daddy be accepted as Hokage, if it wasn't for his strength? Think carefully, now!"

"Because he was really clever?" Naruto said quickly, warming up to the subject. This was just like one of those lessons where Uncle wanted him to think for himself.

"Closer, but still wrong." Tabibito chuckled at his student's annoyed look, grey eyes dancing with amusement. "What? I've seen guys and gals far cleverer than me in my time – and certainly cleverer than your dumb ass," he jibed, making Naruto scowl in childlike outrage, "but they still didn't become Kage of any village. Some folks are clever and cunning and all, but perhaps they're shifty types that are playing their own games, perhaps they have issues, perhaps they're too clever for their own good, or perhaps they can't see the forest because there's too many trees.

"In any case, you don't want these guys in charge. What does a Hokage make, then?"

Naruto thought long and hard, forehead scrunched up in a frown and visibly struggling, until he finally gave up. "I don't know, Uncle."

"Here's the answer, then." Tabibito leant over to conspiratorially whisper into Naruto's ear. "It's all about _trust_."

Naruto blinked a few times. "…trust?"

"Yeah."

"Why did he then do this to _me_?" Naruto asked, confused. "It doesn't make sens—"

"Brat, you're not thinking about this the right way," the traveller interrupted, eyes serious. "People want someone as Hokage that they are absolutely sure will protect them and the village; someone that they can trust to make the right choices, even if they are the most difficult and painful choices for themselves, even if it means sacrificing yourself and the things you love most."

"But I _don't get it!_" Naruto cried out, grabbing his hair angrily and tugging furiously. "He was my _dad_, wasn't he? Didn't he love me at all? Why else would he put this, this _thing_ in me?"

Tabibito sighed. Children were always convinced that their parents must have loved them. Having such single-minded faith could be endearing, and it could give hope to children who had lost their parents. And yet sometimes, having such a single-minded belief shattered could be so very, very tragic.

"Kid, think very hard about this," he ordered sternly before Naruto could tear out half his hair in frustration. "The villagers trusted your daddy to protect them. To protect them all, even if it meant making the toughest choice he ever had to make in his life."

He shuddered, wrapping his travelling cloak around himself in the cold wind. "You've never seen a Tailed Beast on a rampage, but it's… it's _horrible_, kid. All that _evil_ just pressing down on you like a tidal wave, all the corpses piling up as you throw everything you have at it just to slow it down, and it just_ keeps on going_ despite everything you try, everything you know and love getting reduced to ashes… People have killed themselves just trying to get away from the Tailed Beasts. _That's_ how horrible those monsters are."

He fixed serious grey eyes on Naruto, willing him to understand. "Now imagine that everyone is trusting you to protect them from one of those beasts. Even if it means facing down the greatest spirit of rage and destruction, all by yourself. Even if it means giving your own life to save others." He leant forwards, poking Naruto gently in the stomach. "Even if it means sacrificing your own flesh and blood, your newly born _son_, to make sure that no one in the village is ever hurt by that beast again. And all that because they _trusted_ you."

"…Is that what it means to be the Hokage?" Naruto asked, his voice smaller than Tabibito had ever heard it before. "Trust?"

The old traveller nodded gravely. "Yeah. Trust." He glared at his bottle before resignedly sighing and throwing it back once more. "Trust and sacrifice."

"Dad must have had it rough," Naruto said quietly.

Tabibito snorted, coughing on his rice spirit. "Hell, that's the funniest thing I've heard all year! _Rough_ doesn't even start to cover it, kiddo."

"So why me, Uncle?" Naruto asked, apparently still not understanding. "Why did he choose _me_?"

"Thing is, he had to choose _someone_," Tabibito explained slowly. "The most powerful container seals, the ones used on Tailed Beasts, use the life force of the seal master, or someone else who's willing to take the plunge. In the end, your daddy chose you, his own flesh and blood. And why is that?" Taking pity on the small boy struggling with concepts he couldn't yet possibly understand, he smirked. "I'll give you a hint: it's all about trust."

For a moment, Naruto's frown deepened as he absorbed his Uncle's words, thinking long and hard, and then suddenly his head snapped sideways to stare at the traveller. "…he did it because he _trusted_ me?"

"You're the one he chose," Tabibito said simply.

Naruto's frown disappeared as a slow smile crept on his face. "I get it," he said, his familiar grin reappearing. "He trusted me, didn't he? He trusted me to be strong. Strong enough to protect in the villagers in his place. From that monster, and from everyone else that might hurt them."

"Now you get it," Tabibito said approvingly, grinning mischievously at his student. "Your daddy might not have known you for very long, but he trusted you, see? He trusted you to protect the village he loved so much. He trusted you more than anyone else to be strong enough to keep the Beast in check. Otherwise, he would have chosen some other kid, don't you think?"

"Yeah!" Naruto yelled happily, jumping up and grinning widely, laughing and crying at the same time as he danced around the monument. "He didn't hate me after all! He _trusted_ me!"

Narutos happiness was infectious, and soon Tabibito found himself chuckling as well, laughing at Naruto's antics and thanking the spirits and anyone else who would hear that they had given his student back to him.

After a while, Naruto had enough of dancing around like a lunatic and let himself fall back down to Tabibito, both of them watching the sun start to meet the horizon.

"Hey, Uncle."

"What is it, brat?"

"You really think my daddy loved me?"

Tabibito scratched his stubbly cheek. "Dunno," he admitted. "I didn't know the Fourth that well. But I'm sure he did love you very much."

"…How can you be so sure?" Naruto asked, blue eyes curious.

For just a moment, Tabibito riffled through old memories and recalled the image of a young girl and a small boy running towards him, laughing as they hugged him around the legs and waist, a woman smiling radiantly in a lit doorway behind them. He remembered laughing too and hugging them back.

Spirits, that had been such a long time ago.

"…Call it instinct. Besides, the Fourth was a good man. And good men love their children, no matter what happens to them." He turned to Naruto, eyeing him up and down. "You feeling better now, kid?"

"Yeah, tons!" Naruto grinned back cheerfully, all trace of his previous despair gone. "Thanks a lot, Uncle!"

"Not as if I did anything worth mentioning," the traveller muttered, before his eyes sharpened. "And what about your tenant? Feel anything unusual?"

"Uh, yeah, it was talking to me." Naruto frowned into the distance. "It's got a really creepy voice, you know that? And fuzzbutt was telling me—"

The traveller choked on his saké. "Fuzzbutt?" Tabibito stared at him as alcohol dripped down his chin, absolutely horrified. "You're calling the Nine-Tails _fuzzbutt_!?"

Naruto looked unconcerned. "Yeah, so?"

Tabibito just kept staring at him before mournfully palming his face. "Oh, nothing. Just wondering how you came up with such a ridiculous name for the most powerful natural disaster in the world. Please, go on."

"Okay!" Naruto said cheerfully as the traveller just grumbled to himself, shaking his head in despair. The little boy just kept chattering, gesticulating widely and grinning. "Well, it was telling me to go out and kill everyone, so I told it to get lost, but then it told me that it didn't really matter if I did it or not because it had found a weakness in the seal—"

Tabibito choked on his saké. Again.

"—and how it would be able to come out if I kept using its power, but it would still get out soon even if I didn't, 'cause every technique had a weakness somewhere—"

This time, Tabibito was sure that Naruto had finally succeeded in his goal of giving him a heart attack.

"—and then my fingernails grew longer and this red chakra went everywhere even though I didn't want it to – it really hurt, you know! And then I ran here." Naruto frowned, perplexed. "Is it supposed to hurt? It was really weird."

"Right," Tabibito said, his voice faint. "You mind lying down on your back and pulling up that hideous jumpsuit of yours? I think we might need to take a look at your seal."

Naruto frowned at him, confused. "Why do we need to do that?"

"Because it's extremely likely that the seal is unravelling or breaking down as we speak, and then the Nine-Tails would break out and start destroying the whole village, and then I'm pretty sure we're all gonna die in incredibly painful ways." The traveller gave his student a flat look. "Today would be nice."

"Oh," Naruto muttered as he quickly lied down and unzipping the top part of his jumpsuit. "I guess that's a pretty good reason."

"You don't say," Tabibito said drily as he drew back his sleeves. "Channel some chakra to your stomach, brat, and step to it!"

Soon enough, black lines appeared on Naruto's stomach, starting from a circle all around his navel and spreading out in layers and layers of hundreds, perhaps even thousands of symbols all over his stomach, chest, some of them even appearing to shoot off into the boy's limbs. Closing his eyes and his fingers moving quickly in a series of handseals, Tabibito placed his right palm on Naruto's stomach, channelling some chakra of his own to analyze it.

He was absolutely _stunned_ by what he saw in his mind's eye as his own chakra ran through the seal. Never, _ever_ had the old traveller seen a container seal of such power and complexity. The basic container seal was familiar to him, of course, but the layers and layers of additional seals added to it – variable chakra filters, demonic chakra conversion seals, power limitation blocks, tenketsu and inner gate safeguards, and many, _many_ others whose function Tabibito could only guess at, all tied together by a seal matrix boggled his mind with its complexity – most certainly weren't.

Tabibito felt his respect for the Yondaime Hokage rise in him. This was easily the most complex seal he had ever seen, surpassing any of his own works by leaps and bounds. Minato Namikaze truly had been a genius, to implant this masterpiece while wounded, exhausted, and knowing he was about to die. What skill, what imagination!

But still... it was obvious that the Fourth's mind had been distracted during the sealing, or that he'd been rushed for time, or quite possibly both. Many of the symbols were hastily scribbled, a brush stroke missing here or there or shoddily executed; some of the sequences had been shortened by a symbol or two to avoid wasting precious time, and the great size and gigantic complexity of the seal had given the struggling demon many different avenues of attack to poke and prod at the seal matrix until it started to unravel. Tabibito spotted the frayed lines and weak spots in the seal matrix that allowed the Nine-Tails' chakra to trickle through Naruto's tenketsu, weakening the whole structure bit by bit.

Tabibito clicked his teeth in annoyance. Thanks the spirits that manipulating and repairing a pre-existing seal structure required far less chakra and skill than actually creating it from scratch, but this would still be a tricky job. He'd probably need some time to plan it all out, and he didn't really have that luxury.

Suddenly he felt something else pushing against his and Naruto's chakra coursing through the seal, something hot, angry, searing, _alien_—

He snatched back his hand with a strangled scream, only to stare in horror as he saw bloody, raw flesh where old, wizened skin had been just a moment ago. The pain hit a moment later. He started swearing profusely, using his other good hand to rummage in his travelling cloak's many pockets.

"Goddamned son of a bitch jackass fox spirit arsehole—"

"Uncle?" Naruto asked worriedly, leaping to his feet to see his teacher bandaging his own hand with shaking fingers, his own teeth, and a lot of mumbled profanity. Naruto jumped closer, panicking. "Uncle, do you need help? I can bandage that f—"

"Don't touch me!" Tabibito spat out, cursing his own foolishness when he saw Naruto reel back as if struck, the hurt evident in his eyes. "Look, you _can't_ touch me," he snapped, holding up his hand to show Naruto that the clean white bandages were already starting to stain with large, dark red spots. "The Nine-Tails' chakra destroys _any_ chakra not its own. It's like poison, or acid, or whatever the hell dissolves flesh this quickly. Container seals mitigate the problem for their hosts, but even then—" He grimaced as he tried to clench his fingers. "Damn, that _hurts_!"

"So what do we do?" Naruto asked, frantically wringing his hands and feeling utterly helpless. "I could—"

"You'll lie down, shut the hell up, and do exactly as I tell you," Tabibito ordered, halting Naruto in his tracks. "Fixing that seal takes priority over anything that happens to me, get it?"

"But Uncle, what if you lose your hand?"

"Naruto!" the traveller barked sternly. "This is a lesson! What do we do in a lesson?"

Naruto scrunched his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. "I do what you tell me to do, exactly as you tell me to do, nothing more and nothing less, otherwise I might hurt myself and others," he recited from memory.

Tabibito nodded. "Well done. Now, listen to me and do _exactly_ as I say, alright?"

The old traveller grabbed one of his many scrolls from his pockets, unfurled it and used a one-handed seal to reveal a large black calligraphy stone, several brushes of varying sizes and makes, a few pots of differently coloured inks, and many sheaves of paper that he had collected on his travels around the world.

He quickly unstoppered a few of the ink pots, expertly letting a few drops of each drip down onto the calligraphy stone in varying consistencies, ending it by clenching his injured fingers with a grimace and letting a few drops of his own blood trickle down his bandages onto the stone.

Naruto had finally lied down on his back, watching the process with wide-open eyes full of his usual curiosity that reminded Tabibito that he was still a child. "What are you doing, Uncle?"

"Mixing sealing ink," he muttered as he swirled the ink until it reached a dark black colour. "Needs to be different for everything you want to do."

"Can you teach me how to do that?"

"If you survive the next hour or so, sure." Tabibito threw a serious look at Naruto as he dipped his brush into the ink. "Now, two things that you should know about, brat: one, you're not allowed to move. At all. No shifting, no spasms, no twitching a muscle, _nothing at all_. I need a stable surface to write on, otherwise the seal will go haywire, understand?"

Naruto nodded seriously. "I get it. Just like those meditation exercises we did, right? I can do that."

"Good."

"Hey, Uncle, what's the other thing?"

The traveller shot him a mirthless grin as he delicately set the brush to Naruto's stomach and started to draw. "This is going to hurt like an absolute _bitch_."

Naruto opened his mouth to confusedly ask what he was talking about, only to suddenly hear himself scream as he felt something roar in furious anger in his mind, struggling inside him and setting his very nerves on fire. He remembered Uncle Tabi's words just in time, fighting not to writhe and lash out in pain.

Tabibito winced at the bloodcurdling scream of terror and sheer pain that Naruto let out – spirits above, no _child_ should scream like that, _make him stop_ – and furiously pushed those thoughts out of his mind to calmly analyze the seal matrix. He thickened out furtive brush strokes and added symbols where necessary, strengthening the seal; he added symbols to shortened sequences to enhance the efficiency and strength of chakra filters, suppression blocks and other countless components; he knitted together the many different layers of seals constructed one above the other by creating new nexuses and dissolving those that had become too weak and frayed to be useful any longer.

And he did it all with his off-dominant hand, adding his own chakra to the ink to push back the horrifically caustic energy of the raging Nine-Tails as the Beast struggled to unmake the progress it had made after all these years, the pain in his injured hand wracking his mind and threatening to throw off his concentration, but nothing hurt him as badly as hearing the screams of his student – the child he'd _raised_ like his own _son_ for the last one and a half years, damn it! – that threatened to tear him apart from the inside out.

_Heart of Steel, Mind of Steel_, he desperately repeated over and over again, the mantra from his childhood as a shinobi used once more after many years as he desperately calculated estimates for Naruto's chakra output, yin-yang proportion levels, and demonic chakra conversion ratios for now and the future as his brush danced across the seal standing out starkly against Naruto's skin, trying to block out the small child's screams to no avail. _Heart of Steel, Mind of Steel; Heart of Steel, Mind of Steel... _

He thanked the spirits when Naruto's screams turned to far quieter crying after minutes of torture, when that crying turned to whimpers, and when he finally said nothing more, exhausted by minutes of screaming and pain and simply _enduring_ the torture his teacher was putting him through.

Those helpless screams would haunt him for the rest of his life, though, Tabibito was sure of it.

Moments turned into minutes and minutes dragged on and on until an hour had passed, the old traveller never stopping his frenetic drawing, going over the whole seal and his corrections until he was absolutely certain that he had ironed out all the mistakes and reinforced it as best as he could.

His brush sipped again onto the calligraphy stone, which he now realized was completely dry. He sighed, wiping his brow and anxiously watching the black lines of the seal etched into Naruto's bare skin.

They thinned out and receded slowly when he no longer channelled any chakra into it, disappearing slowly. Tabibito heaved a sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion. His modifications to the seal hadn't been rejected, at least, and the Nine-Tails was still contained. Naruto would live.

He looked at his student's face for the first time since he started the whole sealing, carefully poking him. "Hey, kid – you still kicking, or am I gonna have to lug your carcass all the way down this piece of rock to the morgue?"

Naruto didn't answer immediately. He was still lying on his back, eyes scrunched shut in pain and his hands gripping the monument's rocky surface so hard that blood was seeping through his fingers. Otherwise he looked unharmed, though that really didn't really mean much. Tabibito felt some respect rise in him, though – like he'd said, he hadn't moved an inch during his ordeal. That took _guts_.

"Hey, Uncle," the child croaked hoarsely, throat sore from screaming. "I can move now, right?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so," Tabibito agreed, glad to hear his student sound weak, but alive. "I'm done with the seal."

"Okay," Naruto continued, eyes still screwed shut. "That means I can do _this_ now, right?"

Tabibito blinked in confusion, leaning closer. "Do what?"

Naruto leapt up, moving faster than he ever had before, and punched the old traveller with everything he had in the face and sending the elder flying. "_MOTHERFUCKER!_" he roared at the top of his voice, glaring furiously. "Do you have _any_ idea how much that _hurt_, you cock-sucking old prick? Kami, Spirits, and the Enlightened One! What the _hell_ made you think that _this_ was a good idea, old man?"

Tabibito didn't answer right away, though that might have been excused by the fact that he had been sent flying on his back and was currently counting stars and waiting for the world to stop spinning. If any six-year-old could punch like a mule hopped up on solder pills, it was Naruto Uzumaki.

"Right," he slurred, holding up what he hoped was three fingers of his good hand. "Three things, brat. One, I need to tell the folks at the Dancing Dragon to watch their mouths around you. No six-year-old kid should have a vocabulary as filthy as yours. It's creepy."

Another finger rose up. "Two, the seal seems to be working fine, considering that you didn't just melt my face off with that punch of yours. And three..." The third finger rose up as Tabibito shook his head to clear it.

"I really, _really_ need a freaking drink. Probably more than one." He shook his head again, swearing. "Spirits _damn_ it, brat, you can sure as hell rattle someone's braincase."

"...I'm not gonna say sorry," Naruto sulked as Tabibito sat up and mumbled incoherently under his breath.

"Never asked you to, did I? Still, don't do that again. I only have so many brain cells, and a lot of them are already gone after... How old am I again? Sixty-something, I think." He rubbed his temple and glared accusingly at his student. "See? This is all _your_ fault, brat."

Naruto crossed his arms and glared right back. "Hey, don't blame that on me, you old bastard! You were already senile when I met you!"

"That may very well be the case, but—" The traveller suddenly stopped short, studying Naruto intently. "Brat, come here for a moment."

"What the h—"

"Brat, no arguing!" Tabibito barked. "Come here already, damn it!"

Muttering mutinously under his breath, Naruto walked over to the traveller. The old man's uninjured hand shot out surprisingly quickly to forcefully open one of Naruto's eyelids, grey eyes scrutinizing the single bright blue one staring back.

"Oh, hell," the old musician muttered.

"Damn it, old man!" Naruto yelled as he struggled free of his teacher's grip, eyes watering. "What can't you just _ask_ first instead of hurting people?"

"Because I know you're an uncooperative little tit whose greatest pleasure in life is to get on my nerves," Tabibito fired back. "But that's not important right now."

"So? What is?" Naruto snapped, rubbing his eye and glaring.

Tabibito sighed. "This is going to be a mite difficult to explain..."

"Spit it out already, will ya?"

"Fine, fine." The traveller rolled his eyes and started rummaging in another one of his many pockets until he found what he looked for – a small hand mirror, the kind that could be found in "girly shops", at least according to Naruto.

Tabibito wordlessly flipped it open and held it out to his student, who snatched it up with a last glare at his teacher and looked at his own expression. It took him a moment to understand what exactly had changed, but when he did, his eyes widened in shock.

His face had remained the same – it was still the same round, childlike face that most kids his age had, even if his whiskers seemed deeper and more pronounced than before. His hair was still that spiky blond mess that was kept in check by his favourite orange headband, no surprises there.

What had changed were his eyes. Their colour was still the same bright sky-blue that caught so many people off-guard when they met him for the first time, but the iris had morphed from the round iris of a human being into the thin-slitted horizontal slash that one expected of a fox. It looked alien, disconcerting.

For a moment, Naruto just stared at them before his face broke out into a delighted grin. "That is sooooo _cool_!"

Tabibito gaped at him, utterly thrown off balance. "Wait, what! You think they're _cool_?"

Naruto threw him an enthusiastic grin. "Yeah! Come on, Uncle, this is totally awesome! They make me special, don't they? Just like Hinata-chan's or those of the cops strutting around all-important-like." He looked back into the mirror, delightedly examining his eyes once more. "Besides, they look really, _really_ wicked."

Tabibito slapped his palm against his forehead (remembering at the last moment to use the left and not his usual right), groaning loudly. "Of course," he grumbled. "First sign that your tenant might have an influence on your body and change it to its whims, and you think it's a brilliant fashion accessory. Sometimes, I forget that you're really just a kid."

"Hey! You take that back!" Naruto said indignantly. "I'm not a kid, I'm an awesome ninja!"

"Correction, young student of mine," Tabibito grunted as he uncertainly stumbled to his feet. "You're a six-year-old yapping brat that, while incredibly skilled for his age and far too clever by half, will still get himself eaten when confronted by an adult shinobi that actually knows their stuff. B'sides, only the Hokage can make you a real ninja, and I don't see a headband hanging off you somewhere, so there."

Naruto pouted at him as he handed back the mirror. "Way to ruin the moment, Uncle."

"I just spent over an hour making mental hoola-hoop jumps to adjust your seal, my hand is burnt all the way to the bone, and you punched me in the face. I think the more appropriate response would be a hearty 'Fuck you!' and kicking you off this damn mountain, but I'm apparently I'm too bloody nice for that."

"Let's not forget that Grandpa would kill you in the most painful manner possible," Naruto pointed out with a grin.

"Like I said, far too clever by half." Tabibito waved his bandaged hand over the assorted mess of inks, papers, and brushes scattered around them. "Now, clean up this lot, will ya? I wanna go home, get wasted, and pass out on my way to bed before midnight, understood?"

"Lazy old drunk hobo..." Naruto grumbled to himself as he quickly gathered up the various sealing utensils, sorted them by size and function, and then sealed them into their scroll with a hand seal and a brief burst of chakra. Tabibito observed him carefully while he did it, but felt none of the Nine-Tails' chakra leaking out. In fact, it seemed as if Naruto's control of his own chakra had drastically improved as if by magic, as the usual cloud of wasted chakra was conspicuously reduced.

Tabibito scratched his stubbly cheek, annoyed, and turned towards the village to enjoy the breeze. He had improved the seal wherever he could, working out kinks and ironing out wrinkles in every corner of its matrix, no matter how small and insignificant it appeared to be, but he had no idea what effects those improvements would actually _have_ on the boy.

Well. No choice but to find out, was there?

Tabibito watched as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, painting the sky and clouds a bloody red. His hand was burned, Naruto was safe, and he still had to answer to Sarutobi about the forehead protector whose cold metal he could feel pressing against him in his pocket.

He fumbled at his belt for another saké bottle, uncorking it with his teeth and grimacing as his hand throbbed with pain.

Damn, he'd be glad when this crazy day was over.

...

It had taken them quite a while to get off the mountain, for a variety of reasons. One was that Tabibito was utterly exhausted after manipulating Naruto's seal, another the fact that his injured pain made it impossible for him to make hand seals and stick to the side of the Monument, and the last one was that the sun had set, and climbing down a rock face generally took a while longer if you couldn't see where to put your feet.

By the time they were ambling over the line that designated the border between the red light district and the rest of the village, they were both tired, exhausted, and hoping that they could collapse on their beds and fall asleep.

"Bugger," Tabibito grumbled, squinting ahead in the pitch blackness of the small side street they were in. They had taken one of their usual shortcuts, but he wasn't exactly sure where he was anymore. Damn pain muddling his head. "Did we take a wrong turn somewhere, brat?"

"Not sure," Naruto muttered, his hand held in the uninjured one of his uncle. "Hold on... We've gotta go left next intersection, Uncle."

Tabibito threw his student a sharp, disbelieving look. How the hell could he _see_ in this darkness? It took most experienced ninja years until they could adjust their night vision!

He spotted Naruto's eyes gleaming in the darkness. That by itself wasn't unusual – human eyes, and that of most other animals, had a certain lucidity that reflected light, even if there was little around. It was one of the signs that could betray an experienced ninja in night combat.

What was unusual, however, was that Naruto's eyes were shimmering an eerie blue in the darkness of the street, far brighter than any other eyes Tabibito had ever seen.

"Brat," he asked seriously, "are you channelling chakra to your eyes?"

"...Don't _think_ so," Naruto said slowly before taking in a sharp breath. "Hey, I was! How'd I do that without hand seals?"

The traveller mulled it over for a moment. "Don't do it again unless I tell you," Tabibito warned as they continued on their way. "Considering you got that thing from a Tailed Beast, it might be dangerous. Or something else entirely."

"...Yes, Uncle."

He squeezed Naruto's fingers when he saw the boy's disappointment and grinned lopsidedly. "Hey, we'll experiment with those creepy eyes of yours later, promise. Right now, we're both far too knackered. You fine with that?"

Naruto's mood evaporated instantly as he grinned back. "Sure, Uncle! I'm sure it's gonna be awesome!"

Tabibito chuckled. Even after all he had been through today, it was impossible to keep Naruto down.

Thank goodness. His student was still the same, no matter if his eyes had changed.

They soon reached one of the main roads that criss-crossed the red light district, their way home lit by the dozens of red paper lanterns hanging from the brothels, bars, restaurants and hotels lining the street. Not a quarter of an hour later, they reached the Dancing Dragon.

Tabibito frowned as he spotted the sign hanging outside the bordello's entrance. Closed? Hōshi _never_ closed his establishment on a weekday. There were always customers and regulars coming in, money to be made. Something was wrong.

He reached into his belt with his uninjured hand, loosening his dagger's blade in its sheath with a soft click. "Brat," he said quietly, "Stay behind me."

Naruto obeyed instantly, recognizing the seriousness in his uncle's tone. Cautiously, his hand still on the dagger's hilt, he threw back the flap on the Dragon's entrance, peeking in. His shoulders slumped in relief a moment later. "Come in, kid," he said over his shoulder, smiling. "It's safe."

Naruto blinked, confused, but followed him in anyways.

The Dancing Dragon was absolutely _packed_ with people. Naruto goggled in surprise as he saw who was there.

Hōshi was present, of course, but he was sitting in front of his bar instead of behind the counter, surrounded by a group of serious-faced men and women, all of who were armed to the teeth as they quietly chatted with the scarred owner. Some of them wore headbands, some of them didn't, but all looked ready to move at a moment's notice.

Shizuka, Mayumi, and the other courtesans working at the Dancing Dragon were there too, but they weren't wearing the usual beautifully decorated kimonos that they used to enchant their customers as they danced and entertained them. Instead, they had all donned normal clothes and held unlit paper lanterns, worriedly whispering to each other in hushed tones.

Iruka and his white-haired teammate Mizuki were there too, standing off to the side and exchanging quiet words. Both of them looked tired and preoccupied as they stood there, forehead protectors drawn tight around their heads and equipment at the ready. Iruka looked especially worn as he glanced to the other side of the room.

At the other side of the room was another group, all of them tall, burly men. All of them were garishly dressed and many wore sunglasses that obscured their features, but the sword canes and wooden clubs in their hands and the daggers fastened in their trousers testified that they weren't to be messed with. Naruto recognized their leader instantly by the lack of a pinkie finger on his right hand and his perpetual scowl – it was Bako, the _shodai_ or 'big brother' in charge of the local _boryokudan_, the thugs employed by the yakuza to keep some semblance of order in 'their' territory.

And scattered around the rest of the room were people that Naruto recognized as his neighbours, hard-working men and women that he greeted on his way to training or when he went shopping and now stood in the Dancing Dragon's hall, exchanging quiet words. He'd never really talked to any of them.

So why were they _here_?

The first one to see him was Shizuka. "Naruto!" the girl called out, all conversation in the room stopping immediately. There was relief in her voice as she ran over and scooped him up, hugging the bewildered child to herself as hard as she could. "Thank the spirits you're safe!"

Naruto threw a puzzled look at Tabibito as Shizuka lifted him cleanly off the floor, but the old traveller just shook his head, amused.

"We thought you were gone," Shizuka muttered quietly, and Naruto realized to his horror that she was crying, tears running down her face. "When oyaji-san came and said you'd run away, we thought you were _gone_ for good, or injured, or—"

"Shizuka," a cool voice interrupted, and the young courtesan let go of Naruto, squeaking in surprise. "You're embarrassing yourself."

Naruto looked up and saw that Mayumi had approached, the blond girl all grace and elegance, fixing him with her angry, storm-grey eyes. He gulped.

She slapped him across the face, the sound echoing sharply around the quiet room. Naruto squawked in outrage and rounded on her to shout, but Mayumi raised her hand again in warning. "_Never_," she said quietly, "make us worry like that again. Understood?"

And then, to his everlasting surprise, she hugged him too, perhaps even harder than even Shizuka had. Now Naruto officially understood nothing anymoe. Mayumi had never, ever, hugged him. She'd always been too proud.

There was a rasping laugh, like wood scratching on sandpaper, and Mayumi hurriedly let Naruto go, her face red. "Well," Hōshi said, amused, "looks like I called you all here for nothing, fellas. Our little runaway's right here."

"What?" Naruto asked the owner of the brothel, face scrunched up in confusion. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

The brothel owner scratched his scarred cheek, looking up thoughtfully. "Oh, nothing, really. I just spread the word that you were missing, had run away or something, and that I was gonna start combing the village for you if you didn't turn up by sunset." His destroyed face twisted into a hideous grin as he spread his arms wide, pointing at the filled room. "You'd be surprised how many people turned up to help, kid."

Naruto turned to look at everyone in the room, looking flabbergasted. "But... _why?_"

"This is _our_ territory," Bako muttered, his deep voice easily carrying across the whole room. "If kids start disappearing, we'll get them back. Anyone twists even a hair on a kid's head, that guy loses his hand. That's how it's always been with our group." His men around him nodded seriously.

"You live here, Uzumaki-san," another voice spoke up. Naruto whirled around to see the owner of a small grocery store down the road approach. He was an unremarkable but honest man, and Naruto had often gone to him when Hōshi made him run errands. The man smiled quietly when he saw Naruto's look. "This is the red light district. We're _all_ outcasts here, Uzumaki-san. The village thinks we're cutthroats, whores, and murderers. And no matter whether we really are or not, we're still watched with careful eyes when we leave our homes."

"But why help _me_?" Naruto repeated, confused.

The man shrugged helplessly. "We've got to stick together, don't we? No matter who," and here his eyes flickered to Naruto's stomach, "or _what_ we really are. Otherwise, we'd never be able to live in peace." There were mutters of agreement and nods from the villagers in the room.

Naruto blinked quickly, and then rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his jumpsuit. There were some small laughs and chuckles, and Naruto glared at them. But then his face broke out into a brilliant grin. "Thank you! All of you!"

Bako pulled down his sunglasses, studying Naruto over their rim. Then he shrugged. "Well, brat looks fine to me." He made a bow in Hōshi's direction, all of his men following his example. "We'll be going now, Hōshi-dono. We have business to attend to. Thank you for your hospitality."

Hōshi returned the bow and grinned, his face twisted in that ogre's grimace again. "Come in sometime next week. Drinks are on me."

Bako gave him a small smile. "I think we'd like that."

"Hands off the girls, though," the scarred ex-ninja warned, reaching into a pocket and bringing out a few senbon needles between his knuckles, shaking it threateningly.

"Aw, shucks," one of the men muttered under his breath, and Bako swatted his head as the mobsters all left the Dancing Dragon, chuckling and chattering. Soon, the villagers were leaving in small groups to get to their homes and finally to bed, many of them thanking Hōshi and bidding goodnight to Tabibito and Naruto. Some of them even smiled and ruffled his hair as they passed, which Naruto found both annoying and strangely pleasant – they weren't scared of him!

Tabibito watched the whole thing with barely concealed amusement. It was hard to be scared of an evil demon bent on destruction when he looked and acted like a scatterbrained, hyperactive, and genuinely good-hearted kid. Especially when he unleashed his annoying, but generally harmless pranks on the whole district.

But then again, most of the people in the red light district had gone through tougher times than the rest of the villagers... perhaps they just understood what it meant to be an outcast. What it meant to be hated.

Hm. Tabibito shrugged. Humans were weird.

Soon, the room was empty except for the courtesans that were now disappearing into the upper floors to get to bed – Hōshi had apparently decided to keep the Dancing Dragon closed for tonight, after all – the girls sleepily wishing everyone goodnight and yawning. Shizuka kept fussing over Naruto, while Iruka berated him for doing something as stupid as running away from the Hokage.

The flap of the Dancing Dragon was thrown back, and the old man himself entered the establishment. All activity in the brothel as they stared, open-mouthed, at the village leader as he stepped over the threshold, clad in his official robes and hat.

The Third smiled pleasantly, raising a hand in greeting. "Please excuse me," he said quietly. "I do know that you're closed, but I was looking for someone..."

Hōshi managed to shut his mouth first and made a deep bow. "Hokage-sama," he intoned, "you honour my insignificant establishment with your presence."

"Oh, nonsense," the Hokage said, still smiling as he approached. "The Dancing Dragon is quite famous, you know." He studied its owner for a moment as he stood up, the scarred man nervous under the old man's piercing gaze. "...Specialist Jōnin Hōshi Ichirai, correct?"

"You remember me?" Hōshi asked, his scarred mouth stretched out in an expression of bafflement.

"Of course," the Hokage said, clapping him on the shoulder with a smile. "You were always a good and honest soldier. Nasty business, your last mission," the Hokage threw a look around at the Dragon's beautiful wooden décor and general cleanliness and smiled, "but at least retirement seems to have been kind to you."

His eyes roamed the room and fell on Naruto. "Ah," he said quietly. "There you are. Thank goodness you're safe."

Naruto looked miserable, refusing to look into the Hokage's eyes as he shuffled his feet. "'m sorry," he muttered.

Hiruzen Sarutobi blinked, confused. "You're sorry? What on earth for?"

"For hurting you," Naruto said, louder this time, and made a deep, sloppy bow. "I'm really, _really_ sorry, Hokage-sama."

The Third laughed out loud, causing Naruto to blink as he looked up in perplexed surprise. "For _hurting_ me?" The Hokage shook his head, chuckling in amusement. "Naruto, Naruto, how silly of you. You didn't hurt me." His eyes took on a mischievous glint. "You're not nearly strong enough to even scratch me, boy."

"Hey!" Naruto shouted in outrage, barely stopped by Iruka as he tried to launch himself at the Hokage. "Not true! I'm sure I can kick your ass _now_, old man! Believe it!"

The Third shook his head, chortling. "I'll believe it when you can hold me off for ten seconds without getting hit _once_," he retorted glibly. "I think it'll take you about... twenty years, give or take. And only if you don't stop training."

Naruto pouted and crossed his arms, held in mid-air by a scowling Iruka. "I'm gonna be Hokage after you, Grandpa," he muttered petulantly. "Bet your silly hat on that."

"Na-ru-to," Iruka growled threateningly as he glared. "We talked about a little thing called 'etiquette', remember?"

Naruto grinned cheekily at him. "Something you can eat, right?"

Before Iruka could start shaking the little fiend until he was blue in the face, the Hokage laughed. "Drop him, Umino-san. Thank you for your help." He held out his arms, smiling genially.

Naruto never waited an instant and ran over to hug him. "I'm glad you're safe," the village leader muttered. He held him out at arm's length a moment later, examining him from head to toe. "Are you injured?"

"Nah, Gramps," Naruto said, grinning cheerfully. "Just tired." His eyes suddenly grew wide, as if he had suddenly remembered something. "Ah, crap! I forgot! Uncle's hurt!"

"Was wondering when you were gonna remember that," a tired voice muttered. All eyes jumped to Tabibito, who was slumped against the wall next to the entrance. He waved at them with his bloodied hand, grinning weakly. "Anyone got something to drink? Tastier than painkillers, in my opinion."

When Sarutobi saw his old friend's hand, he immediately hurried over and unwrapped the injured hand. Iruka and Mizuki, who went over to help, looked as if they were going to be sick.

The old traveller's right hand had been horribly burned, that much was obvious from the start. The fingers of his hand were coloured red and white from fire, bleeding blisters covering his palm. The pinkie and ring fingers were particularly worse off, considering they were black and charred with dark eschar, dead tissue cast off from the surface of the skin. Bone was visible. This was generally a bad symptom, especially if something had to bite through all the skin encasing it first.

Sarutobi paled. "What on _earth_ did this, Tabibito?"

The traveller chuckled, sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Demonic chakra. Got it when I repaired the brat's seal. Man, that Nine-Tails has a bad attitude, huh?"

The Hokage pointed at Mizuki. "You! Go to the hospital and ask for Doctor Kiyoshi, on my orders, and get him here! Now!"

Mizuki didn't even bow as he hurried out the door, face slightly panicked. "Umino-san," the Hokage muttered quietly as he grabbed Tabibito under the shoulders. "Help me, please."

Soon, Tabibito was stretched out on a table, the Hokage using a kunai to cut off his sleeve. The old traveller glared at him. "I liked that coat."

"Bite me," Sarutobi said without looking up as he tore it off. "I'll buy you a new one."

"Oh, fine, it's your money." The old traveller rolled his eyes and saw everyone worriedly crowding around his table. "Whatch'all looking at? Couldn't you get me some liquor or something?"

There was a rasping laugh as Hōshi pressed a coloured bottle to his lips. "Here, you crazy old fool. Northern brandy. Hope it dulls the pain."

Tabibito swallowed thoughtfully, smacking his lips. "Nope," he decided. "I need some more."

"What _I_ need is a conscious patient," a voice added. A small, slightly overweight man had come in after a returning Mizuki, huffing, his Fu Manchu moustache matted with sweat and carrying a large bag. He bowed reverently as he adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. "Hokage-sama. May I?"

"All yours, Kiyoshi-sensei," the Hokage muttered as he stepped aside. "Be careful," he added. "This was done by demonic chakra."

Kiyoshi threw Naruto a calculating look as he made a series of hand seals and started examining the burned hand, his own glowing as a miasma of green chakra appeared around it. "Is that so? Let me see."

A few moments later, the specialized medic-nin carefully put Tabibito's hand down, sighing. "Second to fourth-degree burns across the whole hand. The damage reaches throughout the entire dermis, subcutaneous tissue, and the muscles and bone below it."

"You hear that, brat?" Tabibito muttered blearily as Naruto watched anxiously. "Big words coming from a doctor. Usually means nothing good."

"There's a danger of infection, gangrene, and I think you may be going into shock, especially if this injury happened to you a while ago," Kiyoshi said, eyeing the traveller with a flat look. "I also think he's drunk and delirious, but I don't need a medical degree to tell you that."

"The treatment, sensei?" the Hokage muttered.

"Immediate amputation of the hand up to the wrist," Kiyoshi said promptly, adjusting his glasses. Everyone in the room fell silent as they watched him, horrified. He sighed, lifting up Tabibito's injured hand and pointing. "Do you see this, ladies and gentlemen?" he asked, pointing at the reddened skin as Tabibito winced. "_This_ is what used to be this gentleman's skin barrier. Its job is to keep microbes and the like from getting in."

"Microbes?" Naruto asked quietly.

"Invisible biting creatures," Kiyoshi said without missing a beat. When many of your patients were ninja that were just hitting puberty and uneducated civilians, you learned how to dumb things down. "They make you sick."

"Oh." Naruto nodded, satisfied. "Okay."

"Now, considering that his skin barrier is breaking down, and that the area is rich in proteins, microbial growth will increase exponentially. This will increase the risk of infection and reduce the reaction of the immune system. Once that happens," and here Kiyoshi pointed up Tabibito's mostly unhurt arm, "the infection will spread through the bloodstream and give the patient an immensely high fever, and you will die from your cells simply breaking down. If the shock doesn't kill you first, that is."

"Can't you use medical ninjutsu to save the hand?" Hōshi asked quietly, watching the proceedings stonily.

Kiyoshi shook his head. "Unfortunately not. The damage is too extensive. All it would do is stave off the damage and final result. And considering that this injury was caused by something that seems to attack and poison the patient's chakra itself," and here he threw Naruto a small glance, "which I assume to be demonic chakra, I prefer not to take any chances."

He gave the old traveller a serious look. "If I don't cut off your hand, sir, I cannot guarantee your recovery. Do I have your permission to proceed?"

Tabibito stared at him as if he was stupid. "Um, no."

Kiyoshi blinked. The Hokage's personal physician didn't encounter resistance often. He covered it with impeccable professionalism. "Really? Why not?"

"Generally the same reason I don't like fellas drinking my booze. It's _mine_," Tabibito said, as if he was explaining the simplest thing in the world.

Kiyoshi rubbed the bridge of his nose, annoyed. "Sir, I really must insist—"

"Look," the old traveller interrupted. "I understand that whole amputation crap. The thing is that I need this hand." He lifted it up, examining the bloodied and charred flesh himself. "Back in the days, I used to be a shinobi. There's few of us in the profession missing limbs, and most of them don't live very long. Wonder why?" He snorted. "But that's not why I want to keep it. I have an agreement with Big Ugly over there," he said, jutting his chin out at Hōshi. "I play music, and me and the kid get a home. I lose that hand, no more music, meaning me and the kid are out on the street. Savvy?"

"Sir, listen—"

"No, _you_ listen, doctor boy," Tabibito snapped, his grey eyes glaring. "I _need_ this hand. I can't lose it."

"...Sensei," Naruto piped up, his voice small and plaintive. "Are you sure there's nothing else we can do?"

Kiyoshi looked at him, small, miserable, guilty, and his blue eyes begging him to save his uncle. The bespectacled man sighed, drawing his palm down his face. "Fine," he muttered, pointing at the blackened ring and pinkie fingers. "These two _have_ to go. I guarantee nothing."

"Three fingers?" Tabibito mused aloud, and then grinned at the hapless physician. "I can still pluck a few strings with that. Sold, buddy."

Kiyoshi rolled his eyes but nodded, opening his bag and preparing his instruments. Tabibito glanced at Naruto, who still looked miserable and guilty. "Ah, what's the long face for, brat? It's just two fingers. They'll grow back."

"Fingers don't grow back, oyaji-san," Shizuka muttered quietly as she wiped his brow with a towel.

"...Well, sucks to be me, then." The old traveller took a swig from Hōshi's dark bottle and grinned at Kiyoshi – the man was busy making hand seals and picked up a scalpel, blue chakra flaring around its edge. "Hey, doc, think I can keep those fingers as a souvenir?"

"If you like your meat crispy, perhaps," Kiyoshi muttered as he touched the blade against Tabibito's blackened fingers. "This is going to be painful. Do you want a gag?"

"Ah, hell, I'll survive."

Kiyoshi smiled quietly. "We'll see." And with that, he swiftly started cutting.

Tabibito endured the procedure with what Naruto thought was incredible stoicism. The Hokage held down his shoulders like a vice and Hōshi had pinned Tabibito's elbow, making it impossible for the Suna traveller to move.

Still, his other arm was free, and it was busy moving so that Tabibito could chug Hōshi's strong alcohol, which might have explained why he didn't complain too much – the only exception being gritted teeth and an involuntary clenching of his muscles.

A moment of fast, methodical cutting later – Kiyoshi was the Third's personal physician for a reason – Kiyoshi had sawed through the thin finger bones and daintily separated knuckles and limb. Then he swiftly went to work on the rest of Tabibito's hand and palm, cutting out all other tissues that were burned so strongly that it was impossible to save them.

Then, two minutes later, he dropped the scalpel and went through a quick series of hand seals. "Mystical Palm Technique," he whispered, laying his palms directly onto the mangled limb. The green miasma swirling around his hand glowed strongly, and Kiyoshi himself closed his eyes, only occasionally moving his hands and twitching his fingers.

Naruto watched, eyes wide with amazement, as new tissue grew over the bloody spots where Kiyoshi had cut out muscle and skin. "Awesome..."

Shizuka and Mayumi watched as well, mesmerized by the jutsu that might as well have been magic, as far as they knew, and Iruka and Mizuki observed, fascinated. Hōshi whistled, impressed. "Damn. You're good, sensei. There's few medic-nin that can heal wounds that delicate."

Kiyoshi smiled faintly as he released the jutsu, the green glow dissipating. "Compliments are always welcome."

Tabibito raised his half-healed hand, now missing two fingers and scabs covering it in ugly spots. He poked the blunt knuckles bemusedly. "Now, _that's_ just creepy."

Kiyoshi caught his wrist, glaring sternly. "No touching. You will see me every day for the next two weeks for further healing sessions, checkups, and so that we can finalize a therapy plan. No poking at the scabs, boiled bandages that you change in the morning and evening, regular disinfections, and no moving those fingers you still have left. Understand?"

"Yes, mum." Tabibito threw the annoyed physician a grin. "Thanks, doc. I owe you one."

"Right," Kiyoshi muttered as he packed up his things. "I am going back to the hospital. I have a comfortable bed in my office to get back to." He threw a look at the Hokage and bowed low. "As do you, Hokage-sama. By the way; I've rescheduled your prostate exam for—"

"Thank you, Kiyoshi-sensei!" the Third Hokage said loudly, grinning widely and maniacally. "Thank you very much for your assistance! I'll see you soon, yes? Goodnight!"

Kiyoshi smirked like a man who had gotten revenge for getting torn out of bed at an inconvenient time, bowed to everyone at large, and then disappeared into the darkness of the night outside.

Tabibito, meanwhile, was busily emptying the bottle of brandy while everyone was distracted. Mayumi managed to grab it from his hand before he gave himself liver poisoning. The old traveller looked plaintively at her. "Those were my painkillers you took, lass."

Mayumi just gave him a disgusted look, a hand covering her nose. "That's enough drinking for you, old man. Your breath smells."

Tabibito stood up from the table, swaying from side to side. "Stealing from cripples? Eeeeevil Mayu-chan."

"Right," the Hokage muttered, rolling his eyes as Mayumi primly returned the half-empty bottle to the bar. "He's drunk, delirious, and playing the cripple card the moment he's lost a finger. I think he's done for today."

"No!" Tabibito said loudly, grinning widely as he raised a finger on his uninjured hand. "Not done! Got sumthin' left ter do!" He suddenly seemed very interested in his hands, showing them to Naruto and grinning. "Hey, look! No fingersh!"

"...Definitely bedtime," Naruto said with all the dignity a six-year- old could muster.

"Shtop moving, brat," Tabibito slurred as he rummaged in his pocket.

Naruto's eyebrow twitched. "I'm not moving."

Tabibito looked at him blearily and nodded. "...Right. I'm just pished out of mind." A moment later, he was affixing something to Naruto's head, fumbling to get the knot done. He stepped back a moment later, grinning and swaying in place. "Congrats, brat!"

And then he fell onto his back with the skill of the experienced drunk, snoring a moment later.

Naruto ignored him as he gingerly touched the forehead protector wrapped at a strange angle around his head, thinking he was in a dream. But when he looked around and saw the smiles on everyone's faces and felt cold metal under his fingers as he traced the Leaf symbol engraved in the plate, he knew that he was awake.

The Hokage was just lighting his pipe, beaming with pride. "Congratulations, Naruto," he said quietly. "Welcome to the Shinobi Corps."

"...you have got to be _kidding_, Hokage-sama," Mizuki spoke up, disbelief in his voice. "He's only six!"

"I have every intention of confirming Ryokousha-sensei's recommendation," Sarutobi said primly, smiling in a grandfatherly way and breathing out a plume of smoke. "If anyone deserves to be our youngest genin, it's Naruto."

"But his skills—" Iruka protested, the worry for his adoptive little brother clear in his voice.

"Exceed that of any of our graduating academy students, if Ryokousha-san's reports are to be believed," the Hokage said, smiling at the youngest ninja under his command before his expression grew serious and his tone solemn. "Do you swear to serve your village, your shogun and your Emperor with all your heart and mind?"

All the ninja in the room recognized the oath of allegiance immediately – they had sworn it themselves, many years ago, fresh out of the Academy. It had been written by Hashirama Senju himself, and the words were such that they burned themselves into your mind, never to be forgotten.

Naruto's childish face grew serious as he nodded. "I swear it."

"Do you swear to protect your comrades, to fulfil your orders, and to fight so that the Will of Fire may never be extinguished?" the Hokage continued, his eyes boring into Naruto's.

Naruto nodded. "I swear it."

"Power through strength," the Hokage said quietly. "Strength through loyalty. And loyalty through friendship. Join us in the shadows, child, so that we may protect what we love."

"I shall join you in the shadows," Naruto repeated seriously after him, his eyes never leaving the Hokage's own. "To protect what I love."

The Hokage nodded, smiling. "I accept your pledge, Naruto Uzumaki." He didn't need to bow, considering that he was the boy's senior in the hierarchy, but he did it anyway. "Serve Konoha well, genin."

Naruto nodded too, his face more serious than it had ever been. "I will, Hokage-sama." And then his face bloomed into the happiest grin the Hokage had ever seen on his face as he ran forward to hug him. "That's a promise, old man! Believe it!"

The Third just laughed and adjusted Naruto's headband so that it sat correctly around his forehead instead of lopsidedly covering one of his eyebrows.

A large, scarred hand clapped itself down on Naruto's shoulder, and the small boy looked up into Hōshi's hideously grinning face. "Well done, kid," he growled.

"Uh, thanks," Naruto said, smiling nervously. The brothel owner could still unnerve like no one else.

Hōshi just laughed and made way for Iruka and Mizuki, the two genin themselves looking rather peeved. "While I may think that this is far too early," Iruka began, shooting the Hokage an annoyed look, "congratulations are in order." He cuffed Naruto around the head, smiling fondly. "Good job, Naruto. You're a ninja now."

Mizuki gave the younger genin a friendly wink. "Just remember, we're your seniors now! If we give orders, you have to follow them!"

"Hey!" Naruto said indignantly. "No fair! You can do that?"

Mizuki just laughed and shook his hand. Mayumi and Shizuka came over, the former peasant girl giving him a hug and whispering "Congratulations, Naruto!" while Mayumi juts sighed and shook her head, smiling.

"I have a mission for you, Naruto," the Hokage announced.

Naruto could barely contain his excitement. "Awesome, Gramps! It is something cool and dangerous?"

"Your mission," the Hokage announced with a serious expression, pointing at the snoring figure on the floor, "is to carry Tabibito Ryokousha to his bed and make sure he doesn't throw up all over himself in the morning."

Naruto glared at him. "_Not_ funny, Gramps."

"Hey, we all had to do the dirty jobs once," Mizuki chuckled as he walked towards the door and waved. "See you around, kid."

"Goodnight, Naruto," Iruka called out as he followed his teammate, ruffling Naruto's hair on the way past and smiling. "I'll see you in training tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, see ya," Naruto mumbled as he eyed his Uncle warily. The old traveller was drooling on the floor, out like a light.

Well, a mission was a mission, wasn't it?

Naruto sighed and heaved under his Uncle's armpits, lifting him onto his back. He was far heavier than any senior citizen had any right to be, damn it!

He glared at the chuckles he received. "I'll prank you all for that, you hear me!?"

The Hokage coughed into his sleeve, grinning. "Goodnight, Naruto. I expect great things from you in the future." And with a last smile and goodbye towards the two courtesans and Hōshi, he stepped outside into the darkness, humming under his breath.

Wishing goodnight to his housemates, Naruto slowly trudged up the stairs with his uncle on his back and occasionally swearing, but he soon found himself simply longing for his mattress and a good night's sleep.

"Good job, brat," a slurred voice mumbled in his ear. "Yer a ninja now..."

Naruto looked quizzically at the old man's face, but the traveller was still fast asleep, a content smile on his face. Naruto just grinned and kept climbing the stairs.

He slept soundly that night, ignoring the quiet whispers at the edge of his mind as the Nine-Tails raged fruitlessly against its prison.

...

The original manga series of _Naruto _was written and drawn by _Masashi Kishimoto_, originally published by _Shueisha_ in 1997, and is still ongoing at the time of writing (May 2012) after sixty published volumes and two different anime adaptations: one simply titled _Naruto_ by_Studio Perrot_ that premiered in October 2002 and ended in February 2007, and its sequel_Naruto: Shipuuden_ (Naruto: Hurricane Chronicles) by the same studio that premiered in February 2008 and is still ongoing at the time of writing. Various tie-in works like novels, video games, and a series of theatrical movies have been published to date.

Again, please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.


	12. Chapter XII – When You Sow Wind…

DO NOTE that this story IS NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of _fanfiction_ based on the original work and its associated franchise, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with the Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.

…

Good day and good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Chapter Twelve of _Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox! _Thanks a lot for all your reviews and kind comments; I certainly enjoyed reading them.

I'm terribly sorry that this update took so long, but I have a lot of things going on in my life right now. Unfortunately, that also means that I cannot give you a specific date when the next chapter is going to come out. It's in the works and planned out in thorough detail, but I don't know when I'll be able to publish, especially because I want to update my other works as well. And then there's work in RL to be done...

I'll try to keep to my monthly rhythm, but I cannot promise anything.

Okay, lots to say about this chapter. Most of it isn't actually about Naruto or Tabibito – I decided to take a look at many of the other characters in Konoha. Considering that the coup d'état of the Uchiha clan is drawing nearer, switching the POV around was kind of inevitable. I hope you like it despite that, though.

In other news, I have published a new story. It's called _Inspector Iroh – Tales of Republic City_. My experimental attempt to write a first-person perspective noir detective novel, with Detective Zuko as the protagonist. If that kind of thing interests you, do check it out! I'd love to hear what you think of it.

Right, enough of my stupid rambling. That's not what you're here for. Whether you loved it, hated it, liked some parts, disliked others, or anything else that came to mind when you read through this, tell me what you thought! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter, no matter how random they are.

Please, enjoy this chapter and leave a review. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

…

**Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox**

**Chapter XII – When You Sow Wind…**

…

When he finally came to, Kanato Hyūga felt as if he had awoken from a long, alcohol-induced haze.

For a moment, he simply lied there, trying to get the raging headache under control. It had been far too long since he'd had a hangover, and he wasn't quite used to the loud, pounding drum in his ears as he heard his heart pump blood through his head. He tried to open his mouth to groan, but he only heard some sort of insensible gargle come out of his throat. His migraine didn't help. At all.

Good _spirits_. It had been _ages_ since he'd been this hammered.

As he groggily tried to get to his feet, hopefully to find a bucket of water somewhere to wash up, he suddenly realized that he couldn't move. And it wasn't due to lethargy, but due to the fact that legs and wrists were quite securely bound together, making it impossible for him to move.

And it was only as he opened his eyes that he found out that they had been quite securely obscured by a thick bandage. He tried to move his fingers to make the hand seals to activate his Byakugan, only to find that he couldn't even twitch his fingers. He realized with sudden horror that he was well and truly trapped.

He heard a sound of steel scraping on steel as a bolt was drawn back. Before he could move, two men entered the small room, the unmistakable sound of combat boots clacking on stone echoing off the concrete walls of what the Hyūga assumed was a small cell. He was roughly grabbed under his bound arms and lifted up, the two men carrying him out as if he was a child.

Kanato's bound feet had left the ground as he was bodily dragged along a corridor in total silence. His mind raced as he tried to understand what exactly had happened to him. He had been following the clan head and his daughter, trying to listen in on their conversation with the demon brat and his teacher, and then the Hokage had appeared…

The two men dragging him along suddenly let go of him, and losing his balance, Kanato felt himself falling backwards to sit into a hard metal chair, disorientated and not having a foggiest clue where he was.

There was another sound of footsteps approaching, though these were measured and calm in comparison. He heard the heels of his two captors snap together.

"At ease," a voice rumbled, and Kanato heard the men shift in the room.

Alright. Whoever had taken him was obviously military. Which meant they had standard operating procedures regarding the interrogation of captured prisoners, and—

"Leave me with the subject," the voice continued. "Standard SOPs are discontinued for this one, considering the gravity of the current situation."

"Yessir," Kanato heard the two other men mutter, and soon the two pairs of boots distanced themselves, disappearing entirely as the door slammed shut behind them with a sound of crashing steel, leaving the Hyūga alone with his interrogator.

Kanato started to sweat, panicking as he tried to sit perfectly still. _Oh, spirits. This is _not_ good. Not good _at all.

He heard the last man leisurely sit down, completely at ease with himself. He heard the near-silent shift of leather as he moved, and Kanato just _knew_ that he was being watched and evaluated for tells and weaknesses, that he was already being dissected like an insect on a rich collector's pin.

Kanato was a decent ninja. He had graduated the Academy at twelve years old with above-average marks, enjoying the benefits of training by elder clan members from the branch families of the Hyūga clan. However, he had failed to be sponsored by a jōnin instructor, and instead of joining one of the groups in the Special Operations Corps, he had been shuttled off to the Generalist Corps. He had been disappointed, admittedly, but only the best graduates were able to catch the eye of a jōnin. Clan connections could only carry you so far.

Even if he was never much of a leader, he was still moderately skilled, trusted, and had one of the most useful bloodlines in Konoha to call his own. He had served in the Third Shinobi World War in the Generalist Corps, fighting the opposing daimyo's armies and samurai, performing reconnaissance on enemy movements, and disrupting enemy logistics through sabotage.

Nothing, however, put him this much on edge as having this mysterious man simply watch him as he sat there, bound and blind, waiting for _something_ to happen. It was terrifying in a way that the most pitched battle couldn't match.

He'd never felt so utterly _helpless_.

"Senior genin Kanato Hyūga," the man opposite him said, and Kanato forced himself not to flinch as the silence was broken. "Do you know why you're here?"

Kanato nervously licked his lips. "I wish to speak to the head of my clan."

"I'm afraid that's not possible."

"…Why not?"

"You have been officially declared missing in action since yesterday, twenty-three-hundred Central Time. The head of your clan was informed, as were your wife and parents." He heard a creak of leather as the man shifted in his seat. "In other words, no one knows you're here."

"I wish to speak to the head of my clan," Kanato repeated, desperation tinging his voice now.

The man sighed. "Kanato Hyūga, I promise you that if you repeat that line _one more time_, you will find my company decidedly less pleasant than it already is."

Kanato's mouth snapped shut.

"I see we're getting along swellingly," the man said drily. "Now, I have a few questions I am going to ask you. You will answer them in as much detail as you can, and then we will consider your release from containment. Do you understand me?"

"…If I answer your questions, will you answer mine?"

"Perhaps." Kanato heard the silent crack of a knuckle. "I hope you realize, Hyūga-san, that you have been knocked unconscious, have been drugged with a powerful sedative, and that a chakra-suppression seal was applied to your person. Standard procedure, of course, but even at full strength your skills don't really match mine, bloodline or not. You have been incarcerated on suspicion of trying to get access to classified information, and that means I'm allowed to do things to you that would normally land me into a court martial because of the Leaf's rules of engagement. No one knows you are here. In short, you are _not_ in a position to negotiate with me."

"I understand perfectly," Kanato said, his mouth growing dry. "But I would still like to know a few things."

Another creak of leather as the man presumably shrugged, but Kanato couldn't be sure. Spirits, he hated being blinded. "Suit yourself. No guarantees that I will answer, though."

And Kanato realized that that was the best he could hope for. He simply nodded.

"Excellent." There was the sound of movement from the other man, and suddenly the cloth binding his eyes was removed with a sharp tug. A bright white light was shining into his face, making him blink in slight pain, and he could see his interrogator – a tall, scarred man wearing a bandanna, a black trench coat, and the standard Leaf forehead protector – settle back into his seat, linking his hands together as he watched him with cold black eyes.

"Let's get started, then: why did you follow your clan head to his meeting with Naruto Uzumaki?"

Kanato thought quickly, glancing away. "…I was worried about the safety of Hiashi-sama and his daughter. Considering the beast's predilection towards violence, I thought it best to protect them from afar."

"Even though your clan head had expressly forbidden you from following him, and…" The interrogator opened the file before him, glancing down at something Kanato couldn't see. "Despite the fact the fact that you, like most of your clan, specialize in close-quarters combat, and would, by extension, be useless if your charges were attacked?"

"…Yes." Even in his own ears, his answer sounded weak, and he hurriedly looked away from his interrogator's narrowing eyes.

"While your zeal for your clan duties is admirable, Kanato-san," the man spoke quietly, "I'm very sure that you're not telling me the whole truth. What is it you're hiding?"

Kanato clammed up, refusing to open his mouth.

"…Does it involve the Uchiha clan, by any chance?"

Kanato's head snapped up, staring at the scarred man in horror, until he unsuccessfully tried to school his head back into a blank expression.

The interrogator sighed wearily, leaning forward. "Do I need to remind you of your position, Kanato-san?" he said quietly, cold black eyes boring into terrified white ones. "You are at my mercy. As long as you reveal your secrets, I am allowed to do literally _anything_ to you. I could starve you for weeks on end, for example. I could simply beat you to a pulp, though information gathered that way is rarely reliable. My favourite, actually, is strapping someone to a board, plant a few bamboo plants underneath, and watch the sharpened shoots grow through their body. Bamboo grows fast, you know. But that would probably kill you, unfortunately…" The scarred man thoughtfully drummed his fingers on the tabletop, the regular sound more unnerving than any drawn knife could be. "Hmm, there's always the Kiri water torture, that one's not lethal…"

"Stop it!" Kanato snapped out in a panic.

"The daimyos from Water can be rather inventive when hurting someone," the interrogator continued in his calm and measured voice, ignoring him. "They strap your hand over a small funnel and let water drip down onto your hand. It doesn't hurt at the beginning, but it goes on for hours, days, weeks… You know, we had a POW come back from Water Country one time. He had a hole bored straight through his palm, and it was done only with a few drops of water and a lot of time. We have all the time in the world, Kanato-san."

"Stop talking, damn it!" the Hyūga shrieked, straining violently against his bonds. They held firm as the interrogator watched him.

"Give me a reason not to, Kanato-san." When the white-eyed ninja slumped in his seat, unable to get free, the man sighed and rose to his feet. "I'll come back soon, Kanato-san. If you don't answer my questions, you will never see your family again." Kanato looked up to see the man impassively stare down at him. "Or perhaps they will see you again – mutilated, crippled, moments from being executed as a traitor. It doesn't matter to me."

And with that, he turned around with a flap of his coat, dismissing his prisoner with nary a look, closing the heavy steel door behind him.

When Ibiki Morino returned the next day, it was obvious that Kanato Hyūga had spent a sleepless night as he looked up at him, rings underneath his white eyes, his restraints the only thing holding him up in his seat. The prisoner opened his mouth, but closed it immediately.

For a moment, Kanato thought about lying, or only telling half the truth to placate the man before him, but he realized it would be futile. He probably could have done so if he wished, but the scarred man facing him was watching him like a hawk, waiting for him to slip until he could poke holes in his story and expose the truth.

In the end, it took only twenty minutes for Kanato Hyūga to tell Ibiki Morino everything he knew about the Uchiha's plans for their rebellion, naming anyone he knew that had a connection to it. He was hauled off to a secret ANBU prison where he would be kept for further interrogation and safekeeping.

Ibiki considered the list of names before him. It wasn't much, but it was a good starting point. He sighed wearily as he got his feet, cracking his neck. Well, it looked like T&I would have to clock in a lot of overtime soon.

…

_**Nine months before the Autumn Festival: **_

Fugaku sat in the high stands of Konoha's arena, arms crossed and silently watching one of the last fights of this year's chūnin exams. Inside, though, he was boiling with impatience.

These exams were so utterly, utterly _pointless_. Most chūnin these days didn't get promoted through a series of ludicrous tests and overblown one-on-one battles. Team leaders were supposed to be experienced, calculating soldiers that could weigh advantages and disadvantages, that could assess their situation and mission parameters, and could turn a bad situation around so that it would turn out for their own benefit.

Two-thirds of Konoha's shinobi forces were genin or senior genin, and would remain so for the rest of their lives. That didn't mean they were unskilled, no, but that they knew how to take orders, or that they never displayed any leadership skills. Most of the chūnin in the Leaf's forces had been promoted from the ranks for their long service, their experience, because they showed initiative, and most of all because they were _reliable_.

These... yapping _children_ that fought here for the nobles' and foreigners' amusement were nothing more than inexperienced glory seekers trying for an early promotion they were not ready for, their teachers merely showboats trying to show off their students to their colleagues to gain prestige and renown. It disgusted Fugaku.

_The only promotion worth a damn_, he thought disdainfully, _is a battlefield promotion, one earned in blood and suffering, your own and that of others. Not these... _useless_ dramatics. _

He threw a quick look at the boy seated next to him, who watched the fight below with a blank expression on his face. Usually, Itachi would have been out on some mission from the Hokage, considering his new position as an ANBU squad captain, but he had begged off for today on his father's request – no matter how much Fugaku detested it, this was a public occasion, and the head of the Uchiha clan and his successor needed to be seen by the populace, to shake hands with the visiting nobles and exchange some polite conversation.

Fugaku breathed out quietly, the only sign of annoyance he allowed to show himself. As if the Uchiha _owed_ this rabble anything.

"Winner, Omoi!"

Polite applause sounded out as the medical ninja on standby hurried over to stabilize the unfortunate Iwa genin that had been liberally cut up by the young Kumo ninja's sword, but it was subdued. Not surprising, really – the Village Hidden in the Clouds was still viewed with suspicion by the village at large after the Hyūga Incident, not to mention the war that came years before it. Too many people had lost loved ones.

A twenty-minute break was announced before the next fight, and the Hokage and visiting nobles went outside to enjoy some refreshments, chatting amiably all the while. Their ANBU guards and the visiting foreign ninja followed them. Itachi and Fugaku remained seated.

"He doesn't deserve the promotion," Itachi said quietly as he watched the dark-skinned boy sheath his weapon and mumble to himself as he walked back to his teammates.

"Really?" Fugaku asked, glancing at him. Young as he was, Itachi's judgment was usually sound. "Why?"

"He's paranoid," Itachi explained quietly, his eyes never leaving Omoi until he disappeared into the contestant's entrance. "If he were to lead a team on a mission, his paranoia would lead to indecisiveness, which would cripple his ability to act decisively when leading his team. A skilled enemy would outmanoeuvre him, leading to the death of the ninja under his command or to a failure of his mission."

"Oh dear, oh dear," a rumbling voice muttered, and Fugaku looked up sharply to see a large, dark-skinned man standing next to them. He was wearing the Cloud shinobi vest, and his spiky, white-blond hair blond hair hung over one of his eyes. He looked amiable enough, but Fugaku noted the large cleaver with a hinge down his middle, the weapon as long from the man's foot to his waist – and yet the Cloud ninja held it as easily as a kunai, one-handed and moving with a lazy grace.

The man plopped himself in the free seat on Fugaku's other side, slouching. "I heard what you said about Omoi, boy," he muttered, smiling politely. "Your assessment ain't half bad, to be honest... Well, the Raikage might promote him today, because of politics and all that, but it'll be a while until he actually gets a command..."

"I don't believe that we were introduced," Fugaku said icily. The fact that he hadn't heard the man approach, even though they were the only ones left in the Hokage's private box, worried him far than he cared to admit.

"Sorry, sorry," the man apologized, laughing sheepishly. "Where are my manners?" He held out his open hand, smiling in a disarming manner. "The name's Darui. I'm the current High Jōnin of Kumogakure..."

"The Raikage's Right Hand," Fugaku said, narrowing his eyes. He didn't take Darui's offered hand, his arms remaining crossed. "Why is the most trusted bodyguard of the Raikage _here_, in Konoha?"

"...Same reason why you guys have all those masked dudes running around, I suppose," Darui answered, slowly lowering his hand after a few moments. The large man shrugged, ignoring the deliberate snub. "Someone's gotta make sure the kids don't get into trouble, right?"

"Is that so?"

He scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "Yeah, but there was something else... A messenger hawk that asked the Raikage to meet someone in the Hokage's box during the chūnin exams, I think..."

"And what exactly did that message say?"

"Something about Konoha getting a new boss in the near future," Darui said, his tone mild. "Really, we weren't sure to make of it, so the big man sent me along to check it out, you know. Such a dreary, long travel…"

Fugaku's pulse quickened. This man was his contact. He gripped the small push dagger hidden in his sleeve, tensing. "All men must die," Fugaku said quietly.

"All men must serve." Darui raised a lazy eyebrow, not moving from his slouch. "Well, I'll be damned... Of all the people I imagined that wanted to talk to someone from our village, I'll admit that you fellas weren't at the top of my list..."

_I don't give a right damn about what you expected_, Fugaku thought venomously, trying very hard to hide the distaste that threatened to show on his face. He ruthlessly clamped down on that feeling. He couldn't risk offending this man if he wanted his plans to succeed.

Still, it was difficult. "Expectations aren't really important in our business."

"Shadows everywhere," Darui agreed, shrugging. "You can never be sure what the hell's going on with ninjas. Well," he continued, sighing drearily, "you learn to live with it. Could be worse, I guess."

Fugaku tried very hard not to snarl at him. _This_ was the highest ranking shinobi of the Cloud, the man that commanded the village's shinobi forces in battle in his master's absence, the man the Raikage trusted with his life?

And apparently the one he trusted most to send as a negotiator to visit foreign rebels…

Fugaku's guard was immediately up again, his temper receding and replaced by wary suspicion. The dark-skinned man himself hadn't moved except for squiggling his little finger in his ear and examining the dirtied nail with a frown. He looked far too relaxed for his situation, which only sent more alarm bells in Fugaku's head ringing.

Whatever first impression this man may have given off, he was still skilled enough that the Raikage trusted him implicitly to represent his interests and that of the entire Village Hidden in the Clouds. Or perhaps this was all an act, a ploy to lull him into carelessness. He would have to be careful.

None of those deliberations showed on Fugaku's face – he was a skilled jōnin, after all – and he instead forced himself to let go of the dagger and relax his hands, folded as they were in his sleeves. "Yes," he finally agreed, "it could be worse."

"So…" Darui drawled. "What does the head of the famous Uchiha clan have to say to Raikage-sama?"

Fugaku looked away, watching as the proctors and a squad of chūnin cleaned up the arena below. "If there were to be a… radical change in the Leaf's leadership," he said slowly, "what would the Cloud's reaction be?"

"Radical change?" Darui repeated idly. "Sounds unlikely to me."

"Don't say that so lightly. Hokage-sama is getting on in years, isn't he?"

Darui threw the Uchiha clan head a short glance. "…He is, isn't he? Has he decided on a successor yet?"

"No." Fugaku scowled. "And he is unlikely to. Which is why it would be very interesting to know what the Cloud would do if Sarutobi-dono were to suddenly… fall ill, or something similarly distressing, with no clear successor in sight."

Darui huffed out a tired sigh. "That's an easy question to answer," he muttered. "War."

Fugaku blinked in alarm, shifting in his seat. "I beg your pardon?"

"The only thing keeping Raikage-sama back from invading Fire Country and destroying the Leaf," Darui said airily, "is the fact that the Emperor of the Mountain is unconvinced that we would be able to consolidate our gains, and because the Shogun is unable to raise enough men to support the ninja of the Cloud in time. A victory against the Leaf is not assured, either. Your village is still strong."

Darui scratched his chin. "But if the Leaf were to be divided by a succession crisis or internal strife, crippling its shinobi… Well, it might change the Emperor's opinion." The burly ninja groaned. "Good spirits, I hate politics. You can't even relax for a moment. But then again, there's less chopping heads off, so that's a bonus…"

Fugaku grunted, thinking quickly. "Well, if there were to be a change in the Leaf's leadership, would Raikage-sama be willing to… renegotiate his position on his warlike stance?"

Darui shrugged noncommittally. "Depends on what he's offered."

"The Land of Hot Water," Fugaku said promptly.

The dark-skinned man tilted his head, raising a quizzical eyebrow. "Really? The Leaf's ancient ally?"

"Its leech," Fugaku corrected disdainfully. "We have protected them for years and years from foreign invasions and influence, and they have shown nothing but contempt and arrogance in return. Let them see the foolishness of disbanding their hidden village."

"And what would you expect from Raikage-sama in return for this generous offer?"

"A non-aggression pact signed between the Leaf and the Cloud, and a promise not to take any contracts in the Land of Fire for five years."

Darui hummed, thoughtfully drumming his fingers on the hilt of his folded cleaver. Fugaku knew it was a tempting offer. The Third Raikage was known to be bellicose, cruel, easy to anger and quick to spoil for a fight. There were rumours that he was intent on avenging the death of the Second Raikage, killed in a drawn-out battle in the last war by a coalition of hidden villages that had been led by Konoha.

From what he had seen of him so far, the Raikage's Right Hand was the exact opposite of his master: calm, calculating, and much more interested in avoiding another war that would kill thousands of shinobi and millions of civilians if the various Emperors and their militaries became involved.

Extending the Cloud's sphere of influence by invading the Land of Hot Water, one of the largest countries that acted as a justifiably nervous buffer between the Lands of Fire and Lightning, in return for a simple promise not to meddle with Konoha's affairs? Not to mention the fact that it could consolidate their new gains, avoid an outright war, and swoop in later while the Leaf was weakened and divided by the coup that the Uchiha clan head was hinting at? It was too good an offer to pass up.

Fugaku knew this. He grimly watched Darui pondering the offer and its ramifications. It wouldn't hold the Cloud back, not for long. As long as the Third Raikage with his fanatical arms building and dreams of expansion and glory was in charge, Konohagakure would sooner or later have no choice but to clash with the Hidden Cloud, if only to preserve itself.

But if the offer of the Land of Hot Water would keep them satisfied for a while until Konoha could regain his strength after the Uchiha's coup… Well, it was a sacrifice that Fugaku was prepared to make.

Besides, they were only a bunch of arrogant foreigners. He could have cared less _who_ ruled over them, exactly, as long as it gave him an advantage that he could exploit.

"Hmm…" Darui mused. "You're not really in a position of strength, I see."

"Neither are you," Fugaku fired back, scowling.

The blond man smiled pleasantly. "True. But when we compare our relative strengths in this discussion, I think you would agree that ours is better than yours, don't you think? I can walk away at no cost, while you… Well, I could even go to Hokage-sama and denounce you. A few words, and all your efforts would be in vain."

Fugaku stilled, glaring murderously at the Cloud ninja. Darui wasn't ruffled, distractedly scratching his neck. Fugaku thought quickly, trying to remember what would be of interest to Kumogakure; something they wanted and that the Leaf could provide...

Ah.

"I can give you an untainted specimen of the Byakugan."

Darui froze, and Fugaku thought he heard Itachi shift beside him. He couldn't be sure, though, as he watched the eyes of the Cloud ninja widen abruptly as he became unnaturally still. A crack in his armour. Check.

"Selling out your own countrymen? Your brothers-in-arms?" the blond man said quietly, apparently babbling to recover from his surprise.

"We're shinobi," Fugaku answered coolly. "Tools are tools."

For a moment, no-one said anything, and then Darui chuckled quietly to himself. "An interesting idea," he muttered, giving Fugaku a pleasant smile. "I'll relay your offer to Raikage-sama."

Fugaku noted sourly that he hadn't agreed or disagreed to anything. He felt a shred of respect rise in him for the Kumo ninja. However much he may have disliked him, he was definitely a shrewd negotiator.

"Well," Darui said as he rose to his feet, stretching lazily, "looks like break's over soon." He gestured towards the stands opposite the Hokage's balcony, where civilians started to flood back to their seats, chattering and gesticulating wildly. The Hokage and his guests would return any moment now.

Darui gave them a small bow, cleaver in hand, and smiled politely at the two Uchiha. "We will contact you with our answer, Fugaku-san. Discreetly, of course."

Fugaku nodded sharply. It was all he could really hope for.

Darui looked past Fugaku, meeting Itachi's stare head-on. For a moment, he simply studied him thoughtfully, not even flinching at the blank look in the young killer's eyes.

"You're one of those, aren't you?" he asked after a moment. "Child killers."

"Yes," Itachi answered simply.

Darui smiled amiably at him. "Well, I hope you don't end up like most of those other fellas," he said quietly. "Would be a waste."

Itachi just blinked, but before Fugaku could open his mouth to harshly ask Darui what on earth he was blathering on about, he had already turned on his heel and walked up the aisle of the Hokage's balcony. A moment later, the doors were opened wide and the Hokage walked in, surrounded by a gaggle of chatting nobles. He looked happy enough, the old face wrinkled in a genial smile as he smoked on his pipe as he discussed the latest gossip from the Emperor's court.

Darui approached, exchanging some meaningless pleasantries with the ageing leader. Fugaku could have sworn that the old man's eyes flickered from the Kumo ninja to study him for a split second, but dismissed it as a trick of the eye. There was no way that he had spotted the connection between the two of them.

Soon, the visiting nobles and shinobi had occupied their seats again, waiting for the next match to begin. Fugaku glanced over at Itachi, and was surprised to see his son stare off blankly into space, his black eyes unusually unfocused and looking at nothing.

He silently nudged him, and Itachi blinked, fingers twitching towards one of the pouches on his belt. Fugaku still noticed it, raising an eyebrow. "Calm down, Itachi," he ordered quietly. His shoulders tensed at the order.

Fugaku watched him for a moment, not really knowing what to sa, until he finally settled on the one thing that he knew Itachi valued above everything else. "For our family, son."

Itachi closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, they flashed a brief, bloody red before regaining their natural black hue, and he finally relaxed, slumping in his seat. "Yes," he whispered to himself. "For our family."

"Next match!" the proctor bellowed out, standing between the two combatants in the arena. "Iruka Umino versus Karui of the Cloud!" He raised his arm, dropping it sharply a moment later. "Begin!"

And despite his disdain for this whole circus, Fugaku found himself watching the fight below as the dark-skinned teenager charged at the seemingly unarmed Leaf genin before her, sword raised. A moment later, she was forced to dodge a hail of expertly thrown shuriken, but they still managed to nick her skin. Soon, the two combatants clashed in a furious flurry of blows as kunai met sword, the scarred Konoha ninja grimly dodging every slash of the enemy's blade with practiced ease.

Fugaku never noticed the brief look of pain and remorse that flashed across Itachi's face before it morphed back into the uncaring façade that he usually showed to the world. The eldest son of the Uchiha clan head returned to watching the fight below, analysing every move and easily predicting the entire strategies of the two fighters in mere moments. Still, his mind was elsewhere.

Minutes later, Umino Iruka was declared the winner of the bout when he outmanoeuvred the young Cloud ninja in the wooded area of the arena, immobilizing her with an ingenious trap consisting of several strands of ninja wire that wrapped around her limbs. He slit her wrist with a quick slash of his kunai as she was momentarily distracted, making her drop her sword and forcing her to surrender before she bled out.

To everyone's surprise, the young Konoha genin immediately put pressure on his enemy's wound the moment she had conceded, stopping the blood flow and helping the medical ninja as best as he could, much to the hotheaded Kumo ninja's vocal embarrassment.

Iruka's promotion was supported by both the Hokage and the Raikage's representative, who personally thanked the scarred teenager for 'saving' his subordinate, to which the newly minted team captain spluttered out his awkward thanks.

Fugaku and Itachi, however, left the arena as soon as the promotion ceremony was over, returning to their home amidst the hullaballoo of the chattering crowd. On their way back, a figure flickered into visibility next to them, and a young, dark-haired ninja wearing a Leaf headband bowed deeply to Fugaku.

"It's done, Fugaku-sama," he said quietly. "We've scouted out the target locations."

The head of the Uchiha clan nodded briskly. "Well done, Shisui." He turned towards a side street, speaking over his shoulder to his two co-conspirators. "I'm going to return to the Military Police headquarters. I still have work to do, what with all these foreigners stirring up trouble for the Chūnin Exams. As do you, for that matter."

"Yes, Fugaku-sama," the two answered simultaneously. Without another word or look towards them, the clan head continued on his way and disappeared amongst the crowd.

Itachi looked after him, lost in thought, until he felt a hand gently shaking his shoulder. "Oi, Itachi – you all right?"

Itachi snapped out of it, looking up into the concerned eyes of his cousin, his elder by a few years. He forced himself to smile. Shisui had watched out for him during the war. They had fought side by side, spending countless weeks on the battlefield, they had bled and killed together. Shisui probably knew him far better than his mother or father ever would. Caution was key.

"Nothing, Shisui," he muttered. "Let's just get to work."

The older Uchiha raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as he dropped his hand. Itachi had seemed far more lost in thought recently, and he couldn't help but be worried about him. Still, had Shisui known the thoughts that ran through his cousin's mind, he would have easily forgiven his friend for being occasionally distracted.

Shisui just shrugged as he formed a row of hand seals. "Your call, cousin." He disappeared from view a moment later with a shimmer of air, presumably off to continue with the preparations of the coup entrusted to him by his uncle.

Itachi felt his heart clench, and he resisted the urge to be violently ill. He didn't _want_ to kill his cousin and closest friend, but with the way things were going…

He had to do something to save his family, to save the village, no matter how drastic it was. He _had_ to.

A moment later, he disappeared in a murder of crows that took to the skies, flying off towards the Hokage's tower.

…

_**Six months before the Autumn Festival: **_

Naruto blew out a blond hair out of his face, grumbling to himself as he sat in the shadow of a shop front in a street of Konoha's market district. If he could just wear a headband, then this would be _so_ much easier…

But no. No headbands. Uncle had told him that they were a bad disguise – they made you stand out in a crowd, easily recognizable, and they didn't do too much to conceal any significant details that people would remember when they looked at you.

And Uncle had expressly forbidden him to wear his forehead protector in public. When Naruto had loudly complained that it was _stupid_ that he was a ninja and couldn't even wear his headband with pride, Uncle had simply sighed.

"Kid," he had muttered morosely, "d'you really think people will treat ya differently just 'cause you happen to wear a shiny metal plate on your face?"

Naruto's mouth had promptly snapped shut and he had just shuffled his feet, unwilling to look up. Uncle had sighed, smiling sheepishly and ruffling his hair. "Don't worry too much about it, brat. Being a shinobi has got nothing to do with any trinkets, alright? It's a way of thinking, a way of life. The forehead protector is just a… symbol. Nothing more."

Naruto had scowled. He knew that symbols were important. He had seen the way that villagers addressed anyone wearing a forehead protector: they were members of a caste of secretive warriors trained in the arts of murder and subterfuge, wielding powers and illusions that, to the untrained eye, were only similar to the wrath of the spirits themselves.

So the villagers treated them with polite, quiet deference, gratitude, and respect mixed with a decent and completely justified helping of fear. Even in Konoha, where the villagers were used to trading with shinobi and having them as their neighbours, there was an unbridgeable gulf between the civilians and the trained killers. Out of the hidden villages, people were downright _terrified_ of ninja.

Wearing a forehead protector – the _right_, the _privilege_ to bear one – would give Naruto that respect he had always craved and worked so hard for, if only a little bit.

And now Uncle wanted to take it away from him.

Uncle Tabi must have seen the look on his face, because he squatted down until they were at eye-level, watching him intently as Naruto looked away. "Riddle me this, brat," the old traveller continued gruffly. "Does it really _matter_ what people think of you?"

"Whaddaya mean, Uncle?"

"Does it really _matter_ what some random civilian in the street thinks if you?" Uncle Tabi snapped, grey eyes intense. "Does it change who you are, Naruto?"

"…No."

"That's right. Let the bastards talk. Let them think what they want. Let them think you're weak, let them think you're an idiot, let them think you're a demon. _It doesn't matter_. At the end of the day, you'll still be a shinobi."

Uncle Tabi stood up, flexing the remaining fingers on his mangled hand, grimacing. "The old monkey still gave you that forehead protector, didn't he? _He_ is the one who trusts you to protect his people. _His_ opinion is the only one that matters here, don't you agree?"

Naruto looked up, grinning lopsidedly at him. "Yours too, Uncle!"

For a moment, Uncle Tabi looked taken aback before he turned around to walk back to their usual training ground, grumbling to himself. "Yeah, whatever you say, brat… Now, I'm gonna teach you something interesting, so listen up and listen good…"

And he had taught him something interesting. After doing their usual warm-ups, stretches, and sparring, Uncle Tabi had showed him something that he thought was essential to being a good shinobi: how to shift your posture, and how to imitate the body language of other people.

One moment, the old traveller was walking along a road with the regular drill step of a trained soldier, his body tense and his eyes constantly shifting around, alert; the next, he was suddenly moving with the light step of a trained swordsman, his posture ready to draw a sword that wasn't even in his belt; and after that, he was lumbering along the road with the heavy steps and broad-shouldered walk of a labourer.

Before his very eyes, Naruto watched with wonder as Uncle Tabi turned into someone else at the drop of a hat, doing nothing else but changing the way he walked and held himself.

After that, Uncle Tabi had sent him into the heart of the village to watch people go about their day without getting noticed. It was exhilarating, in a way – like a real spying mission!

He watched labourers building a house, traders and merchants gesticulating as they sold their wares and haggled with their clients and their suppliers, he watched the civilian Town Guard go along their regular patrol routes as they looked for thieves and muggers; he even watched other shinobi as they wandered the village with their friends and teammates, joking and talking, and he noticed how each and every one of them had a different way of walking, a different manner of bearing.

Soon enough, he could tell what caste someone belonged to, what kind of job they had, if they had combat training or not, what kind of weapons they used, if they were on official business or not, and many other little details about them by simply _looking_ at them long enough.

Uncle Tabi was very surprised with his progress – he said that he noticed things that shinobi far older and with more far more experience than him ever did, making Naruto's small chest puff out with pride. That feeling lasted about as long as it took Uncle Tabi to callously state that "you still have a long way to go until you can infiltrate a target's organization and get reliable intel, brat. Don't make your head swell, it's unhealthy."

And then he taught Naruto how to imitate other people without even using a henge. Little things, like shifting your body language and posture, the language and words you used, the state and make of your clothes, the way you addressed other people… Naruto was honestly stunned that there were so many things he had to consider. His experiences from watching other people helped a lot, though, and soon he could reliably pass for a labourer, a coolie, a merchant, a rich noble, a soldier, and even a trained shinobi by simply changing the way he walked. It had taken him less than a few months to get that far. Actually, it was surprisingly _easy_.

Add a few touches of homemade make-up to hide his whiskers, a squint to conceal his slitted eyes, a little bit of pigment to dirty his blond hair, and no one would be able to recognize him as the Kyuubi's carrier.

And so here he was, sitting in the shade of a street in Konoha's market district, a cheap rice hat drawn over his eyes, his forehead protector tucked inside the folds of his used yukata, and distractedly plucking at the strings of his _biwa_, the short-necked lute that Uncle Tabi had bought him second-hand to teach him music. From the number of coins the passerby had thrown at him so far (not many), he apparently wasn't very good at playing it. Well, he was sure it was fine.

_It ain't about standing out. It's about fitting in._

Naruto grinned to himself as he started to play a song he'd once heard Uncle play. Another one of his teachings.

"Out of the way, out of the way," a loud voice sang out over the noise of the crowd, and he heard quick footsteps walk in his direction. Four pairs of sandaled feet came into view, stopping abruptly before the shop entrance. The young ninja didn't look up.

A palanquin was set down – an expensive one, from the sturdy way the thing was built, not to mention the decorated silk curtains enclosing it – and a new pair of sandaled feet was added, stomping heavily onto the dusty street. Naruto threw up a glance past the rim of his hat. The newcomer was a large, pudgy man – a lifetime of counting numbers, good food and wine, and getting carried everywhere that was too much for his own feet to carry him had given him a large paunch and a heavy, lumbering gait. The first was badly concealed under a well-cut and obviously expensive yukata, while the latter allowed him to walk to the shop's entrance.

"Naizen-dono!" a loud voice called out from the inside of the shop, sounding far too elated to be entirely sincere. "So glad to see you here! I'm sorry that the shop is a mess, but had I known you were coming—"

"Spare me," the trader grunted rudely. "If I want to make small talk, I might as well talk to my wife, as pointless as that is. How's business?"

"Ah… Well…" the shopkeeper mumbled uncertainly. "You see, our latest delivery of steel wasn't of the best quality, so…"

"So?"

"Well, half of the steel was useless, Naizen-dono! We couldn't use it to forge our usual quality of weapons, it just was too brittle!"

"…Are you telling me that I wasted over four hundred thousand ryō on inferior steel?"

The shopkeeper's feet shuffled uncomfortably. "Naizen-dono, I would never dare to question your judgment—"

"Oh, shut up," the trader snapped, annoyed. "I'm not blaming you, damn it! If anything, it's the miners' fault. The quality of the ore has diminished far too much. And the caravans aren't exactly cheap anymore, either, considering that we have to pay shinobi to accompany them. Damn those Iwa bastards for starting up trouble at the border!"

"Hear, hear," the shopkeeper mumbled quietly.

"Hah!" the merchant spat out. "If that doddering old fool would just leave his tower every once in a while to see our troubles, he would find a way to make the Rock back off! We pay him, don't we? So why doesn't he take care of our problems?"

"Naizen-dono!"

"Ah, don't get your balls twisted up," the merchant said, chuckling. "Do you think there's someone listening in on us right now? You're paranoid."

Naruto tried very hard not to break out into a fit of sniggers, concentrating instead on his fingering – his cover as a musician was no use if he stopped playing. He pricked his ears as Naizen continued to speak, his voice suddenly reduced to a whisper. Still, Naruto heard him perfectly, even over the noise of the passing villagers.

"Don't worry about it too much," the trader told his shopkeeper quietly. "Times might be rough now, but they'll get better soon."

"How can you be so sure, Naizen-dono?" the shopkeeper whispered, his voice harsh and desperate. "You know our profits are meagre! And if the Rock starts making more trouble, the mines might shut down altogether—"

"Trust me," the trader answered, patting his employee on the shoulder. "I've got a plan. We'll get a contract soon, I'm sure of it."

"If you say so, Naizen-dono…" the man agreed reluctantly.

After a round of goodbyes and polite entreaties to come by more often (which the trader studiously ignored), the heavyset trader turned around, waddling back towards his palanquin. He stopped dead half-way, his feet suddenly stilling.

Naruto blinked as the trader refused to get back into the palanquin, but resumed playing the lute. No need to blow his cover.

His fingers slipped, however, when the trader's feet suddenly moved towards him, stopping just outside his field of vision. A bead of sweat rolled down Naruto's temple. Had he been discovered?

"I know that song."

Naruto blinked, his fingers stilling. He decided to take a risk, tipping back his hat. "Pardon, guv?" he asked, looking up and grinning cheerfully at the trader with a squint.

Jigo Naizen was a heavyset man with a black goatee and a long mustache that he obviously spent a long time grooming and making sure that it didn't get stuck in his double chin. He was a man of average height, though his girth was anything but, his breathing belaboured as he lugged his far too heavy weight around. Back in his large town home, he had a wife and two concubines that he treated with cordial politeness. Three children, two boys and a girl, all younger that fourteen.

Naruto knew that he owned a large _keiretsu_, a trading company that owned several businesses inside and outside the village. Naizen was of interest because several of his companies were involved in the weapons trade, an economy vital to Konoha. By all accounts and Naruto's own observations, he was a shrewd and hardworking businessman – perhaps _too_ shrewd, even, which was why it was Naruto's job to follow him around.

Naizen mopped his brow with a silk handkerchief, his breathing belaboured in the summer heat. He looked down at the squatting Naruto, scowling. "I _said_ that I know that song," he repeated acidly, his own high-class accent clashing with Naruto's affected street slang. "My nanny used to sing it to me."

"It's really that old, guv?" Naruto said, squinting dubiously at the head of his lute. "Ya know, I just picked it up from some old codger on a street corner somewhere. No idea where _he_ heard it first. Barmy old fella, that one was."

It was easy for people to pick out liars, but the truth was a funny thing. The way you presented it could be far more important than the words themselves. Another lesson that Uncle had drilled into him during his training.

"…Could you play it again?" Naizen asked.

Naruto wasted no time, his fingers quickly returning to the strings of his old lute. He plucked the first few bars of the song, his child's voice joining in a moment later.

"_Even in the midst of flowing time, look, listlessness dances round and round…_"

He still wasn't very good at singing this particular song. It was difficult to play, the lyrics were complicated and had to be sung in a fast tempo, and Uncle Tabi had told him that there were normally several musicians that accompanied the singer. Still, Naruto did his best.

Once he was done, he glanced up at Naizen and gave him a lopsided grin. "You 'ad a bit of a creepy Nan, didn't ya, guv?"

The fat trader frowned. "That's none of your business, you little street rat."

Naruto raised his hands in what he hoped was a placating manner. "Whoa, touchy."

Naizen just scoffed, reaching into his sleeve and throwing something at Naruto's feet. The young ninja picked up, surprised. It was a string of copper coins, enough to buy a day's worth of food.

He looked up to see Naizen turn around, obviously not expecting gratitude. "Get something to eat, you're too skinny," he ordered over his shoulder.

"Er, thanks fer the cash, guv!" Naruto called after him as the large trader climbed into his palanquin, the four porters lifting the heavy contraption in the air. "I'll pray for ya if I can, promise!"

Jigo Naizen apparently never heard him. The silk curtains of his palanquin were drawn back, his act of kindness already forgotten as he went onto his next business of the day.

Naruto dropped the act, thoughtfully watching the portable chair turning a corner, the string of coins feeling heavy in his hand. A moment later, he was gone, dashing across the village's rooftops to follow the distinctively coloured palanquin as it weaved through the bustling crowd in the street below.

…

Naruto's eyebrow twitched. Jigo Naizen, he had finally decided, was an _asshole_.

Alright, that wasn't exactly fair. The merchant had spent the next few hours of the afternoon visiting various shops, warehouses, and factories around the village. Naruto had unobtrusively followed him, slipping through the crowded streets, listening to the hurried conversations between the trader and his employees. All of them had gloomily reported that their supplies were of ever-increasing inferior quality and that their sales were mediocre at best. The merchant scowled, but accepted it and gone on his way.

And spirits, was it ever _boring_. Nothing interesting happened while Naruto shadowed Naizen. Uncle Tabi had warned him that observation missions were always tedious, and that he had to keep himself on his toes if he didn't want to miss the one crucial detail that they were looking for.

So Naruto challenged himself, weaving around the pedestrians in the market district and silently leaping from roof to roof, keeping as close a distance to Naizen's palanquin as he could without his porters or the man himself noticing. He was _good_ at it – when the one who taught you surveillance tactics was a shinobi with decades of experience in the business, you learned quickly what worked and what didn't.

Still, as far as he could tell, it had been nothing more than simple business transactions and meetings – figures were exchanged, complaints heard, strategies discussed… Some of it skirted the edge of legality and bad business practices, but that was merely contemptible, not illegal.

Naruto had been tempted to scrub the mission altogether, but decided against it. It was the first mission that Uncle Tabi had allowed him to perform solo without anyone watching over his shoulder. He'd do his best.

Night fell, and when Naruto honestly began to wonder whether Naizen was _ever_ going to walk more than ten paces without getting his big carcass lugged around by his porters, he overheard the merchant call out an unusual address.

Naruto frowned. _That's a restaurant in the Kamakuri district… Why would he go _there_, of all places?_

Naizen had been carried around the market district the whole day and evening, visiting his shops and various buildings he owned. Why would he suddenly decide to hit the restaurant circuit? He had never done so before.

Intrigued, Naruto followed his target with renewed energy. And soon enough, he did go someplace he didn't usually visit: a large, expensive, three-story restaurant known for its exquisite gourmet food and ludicrously large bills. A typical place the village's (civilian) high society would spend their free time and money at, revelling and partying their nights away.

Naruto stood in the street outside the restaurant, fuming. A street rat and mediocre musician wouldn't get in here, and he couldn't just show the doorman his forehead protector to be let in – this was a covert operation, and it was meant to stay that way. No one except him, the Hokage, and Uncle Tabi knew that he was shadowing the trader.

It was _then_ that Naruto decided that Jigo Naizen was an asshole, as he apparently just _had_ to make things more difficult for him.

Naruto forced himself to calm down, thinking quickly. A grin split his face. Hell, he'd never really had a live-fire exercise when it came to infiltration tactics, in any case.

A few minutes later, a small figure darted into the back entrance of the restaurant. Naruto quickly found himself inside the kitchen, cooks and sous-chefs running to and fro as they prepared the food. He briskly made his way through the controlled chaos, trying to act as if he belonged here.

"Oi, you! Whaddaya think you're doing here?!"

Well, apparently he still wasn't very good at it.

Naruto quickly turned around, grinning cheerfully and waving at the scowling waiter that was storming towards him. "Hi there! I've got a message for one of your guests!"

The waiter halted, suspicious. "For who?"

"A Mister Jigo Naizen!" Naruto said, still grinning widely. He rummaged inside the folds of his yukata, coming out with a scroll that was securely sealed with wax. "That's his company seal, see? They sent me from their offices!"

He held it out to the waiter, and the man examined it, suspicion still in his eyes. However, Naruto wasn't unduly worried, considering it was the real thing. Naruto bit his tongue, trying very hard not to laugh out loud. It had been far too easy to break into the company offices last night and make a duplicate of their sealing stamp.

"Alright, then," the waiter conceded reluctantly, trying to grab the scroll. "I'll just take this, then—"

Naruto swiftly danced out of reach. "Sorry, pal," he chirped. "My boss told me to personally hand it over to the big man. It's kinda important, you know."

The waiter glowered. "We _don't_ want random kids off the streets running around here," he growled.

_Elitist prick_, Naruto thought, annoyed_. But then again, he might have a point. There's been far too many thieves around these days. _

"Tell you what," he offered quickly. "You tell me where the big cheese I'm supposed to deliver this scroll to is, and I'll leave right afterwards without talking to anyone else."

"No talking to the guests?"

"None of that, I promise."

The waiter huffed, annoyed. "Second floor, fifth room, left-hand side. Keep out of sight, alright? We don't want our guests thinking we employ kids from the gutter like you."

"How harsh," Naruto snickered. "Sure you're not forgetting your table, buddy? If you waste any more time, I think you can kiss your tip goodbye!"

When the waiter realized that he had indeed completely forgotten about the patrons at his table, he turned an interesting shade of white and rushed past Naruto, the small child already forgotten.

Naruto quickly left the kitchen, walking out into the corridor and past the rushing waiters, waitresses, and cooks. None of them spared him a second glance. That was the interesting thing about closed organizations like these – the moment you got past the entrance, people assumed you had a right to be there and ignored you. All you had to do was act natural. Well, at least that's what Uncle Tabi had told him.

Soon, he found a staircase, quickly walking up the stairs to the second floor. The moment he stood in the finely decorated corridor, however, he hesitated. If he really wanted to eavesdrop on whoever Naizen was talking to, then hiding on the same floor as them would be a bad idea - Naizen (or someone else) might run into him. But he couldn't go back down, and the stairs led nowhere.

So _where, _exactly, would be the ideal spot to hide?

Naruto walked past an empty private room with an open window, halting in his tracks. _Aha. _

Soon, he had hauled himself out the window, easily scaling the expensively decorated façade of the restaurant. Thanks to the darkness, no one outside spotted him. The whole building looked pretty similar to the Dancing Dragon, even if it wasn't as homely, so if its general layout was the same...

Naruto's hand gripped a windowsill, and he grinned, lifting himself onto it. Jackpot.

He peered through the window and found the room inside empty – the desk was cleared and the bookshelves were devoid of the usual ledgers and books. An unused office, apparently. Lucky him.

The window was locked from the inside, but small details like that rarely bothered an experienced ninja. Naruto drew a kunai and quickly joined his hands, running through a series of hand seals. "Wind Release: Cutting Claw."

A faint shimmer of blue appeared around the edge of the blade, and Naruto swiftly cut through the glass of the window. He plucked a perfectly round circle of glass from the window, cautiously reaching through the hole and pulling on the handle. It opened wide with a quiet click, and he hopped in, his footfall utterly silent.

Blue chakra still flared around his kunai, and he examined it as it flickered out, slightly annoyed. Uncle Tabi had started him early on developing his elemental affinity, saying that it would make it easier to learn more advanced jutsu later. The old musician had been absolutely _ecstatic_ when they had found out that Naruto was aligned to wind, gleefully rubbing his hands all the while and muttering under his breath – it was his own element as well, and apparently more common in Sunagakure than anywhere else. Channelling elemental chakra through weapons had been one of the first exercises he had put Naruto through – it was apparently easier if you had an object to focus on.

Interestingly, Naruto had made little progress. He could channel chakra through a common kunai, yes, and it had helped improve his chakra control immensely, but he had been unable to concentrate hard enough to use it in combat in combination with his taijutsu and other techniques. Uncle Tabi had never stopped encouraging him, though, stating that mastering elemental chakra was something that could take years to master. That he was even capable of using it this well at the young age of six-and-a-half was a miracle, really. Naruto was still childishly impatient, however, and he couldn't help but feel disappointed by his meagre progress when he was able to learn other things quickly.

_This _really_ isn't the time to dwell on your mistakes_, he imagined Uncle grumbling into his ear, grumpy as always. _You're on the job._ _Focus._

Naruto shook his head like a wet dog, closing his eyes and reopening them a few seconds later. The office with all its stationery stood out in clear detail, even though it was plunged in darkness.

He quietly opened the screen door, peeking into the corridor outside. Empty. He pricked his ears, listening intently. Nothing. No footsteps, no snoring, no talking, nothing. Apparently, the offices had already closed for tonight.

Groovy.

He quickly snuck through the darkened corridors, trying to remember the directions the hapless waiter had given him. Fifth room, left-hand side, wasn't it?

Naruto quickly picked the lock of the door leading to another office, peering inside. Finding it as empty as the others, he went down on all fours and examined the floorboards intently until he found what he looked for – a knothole. He drew his kunai, set it down point first, and started to rub his hands together over its handle. Soon enough he had bored a sizable hole through the plank, and he bent down to peer through it.

The room below was smaller and far less impressive than the one above it, but it obviously had been built with a different purpose in mind. It was elegantly furnished with red lacquer screens, thick carpets, and a large, beautifully carved mahogany table at its centre. There was only a faint, flickering light given off by a few paper lanterns, but it was enough to identify the sole occupant of the restaurant's private room: Jigo Naizen, mopping his brow and looking unusually nervous as he peered into the corners of the room, as if he was afraid of his own shadow suddenly jumping him.

"Greetings, Naizen-san," a voice intoned, and both the trader and Naruto flinched in surprise – though Naizen looked far more terrified than anything else.

"Good spirits above and below!" the merchant gasped out, clutching his chest as he glared at the newcomer that had seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, standing by his shoulder. "You frightened me!"

"My apologies," the new arrival said smoothly, walking past Naizen to take a seat opposite him at the table. "I was delayed."

"By what?! What could be more important than _this_?!"

"Many things," the newcomer said vaguely, waving the matter aside. "Were you followed?"

"No, I wasn't," Naizen hissed, his voice strained and upset. "Excessive paranoia does your cause no credit, you know!"

"Neither does excessive carelessness," the man – no, he was far too young to be called a man, Naruto realized, he was only as old as Iruka, at most – retorted quietly, cold black eyes boring into weaker-willed brown ones. "I'll refrain from enumerating all the penalties that the Hokage's laws have reserved for traitors to the village."

"Alright, alright!" Naizen snapped, throwing up his arms angrily. "Be that way! Still, I think all this secrecy is completely _idiotic_—"

He froze when black eyes suddenly bled into red, the cold eyes pinning him in place. "I have a feeling," the man spoke slowly, pleasantly even, "that you're not considering this situation with the seriousness it deserves."

Naizen started to shake like a leaf, and it was then that Naruto realized who this man was – or rather, to what clan he belonged. An Uchiha.

He looked unassuming enough, really: a youth of average height with unkempt dark hair, elegant eyelashes, and wearing a high-collared shirt. The impression of normality ended quickly once Naruto took a look at the rest of his attire – he wore a forehead protector of the Leaf, and the hilt of a sword poked out over his shoulder, in easy reach. He moved with the grace of the experienced killer that Naruto had seen in many shinobi around the village, and it was enough to pin any inexperienced civilian with fear.

And his eyes were the coldest ones that Naruto had ever seen, dispassionately watching Naizen as he squirmed under his gaze, terrified.

Naruto shivered. Now _there_ was a guy he wouldn't want to cross in a dark alley.

"Now," the Uchiha continued as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, "have you done your part, Naizen-san?"

"I have," the trader said quickly, eager to get those eyes off him. "I certainly have. I received the shipment two days ago. The weapons are yours, you need only ask for them."

"Just tell us where they are – we'll move them ourselves."

"Good, good – did you receive the rest of my contribution?"

"The money?" the Uchiha clarified, his expression not changing. "Yes. It is being put to good use."

"What use, if I may ask?"

"Bribing a few of the Hokage's officials. The more malleable ones, at least."

Naizen nodded quickly, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Perhaps I shouldn't have asked…"

"No, perhaps you shouldn't have. Plausible deniability can be useful, even for non-shinobi."

"Certainly, certainly…" Naizen dabbed at his temple with a handkerchief, sweat running down his forehead. "…I received a few letters from my correspondents in the capital. The trading companies and corporations of the Kudo, Sunada, Chomei, and many other families support your cause. Clandestinely, of course."

The Uchiha tilted his head, apparently curious, though his face remained blank. "It would be disappointing if they did it any other way. We have no use for fools."

Naizen shrunk under his unrelenting gaze, looking away. "Y-yes, by all means…"

"You said in your missive that you wished to discuss the terms for your support, Naizen-san," the Uchiha continued. "Is that true?"

"Er, yes, if you don't mind—"

"I don't." The dark-haired Uchiha leant back in his seat, hands flat upon the table. "In exchange for your backing, we will – once we have been allowed success by the Heavens, of course – grant you a seat on the new Hokage's Advisory Council. We will also take a harder stance against the raids launched from the territory of Earth Country, and secure the supply routes of your mines and trading caravans of your… acquaintances. Oh yes, and your company will receive a contract to make weapons for Konoha's Shinobi Corps. Did I forget anything?"

"N-nothing at all, Shisui-dono," Naizen muttered, quickly bobbing his head. "Thank you, thank you very much."

"Excellent," the Uchiha pronounced, getting to his feet with catlike ease. "Our meeting is concluded, then."

Naizen quickly got to his feet, sketching a clumsy bow. "A pleasure doing business with you, Shisui-dono."

The youth bowed briefly, straightening up immediately afterwards. "Likewise." He walked over to the window, pausing for a moment. "Naizen-san."

Naizen had breathed a small sigh of relief, but clammed up immediately when he was addressed. "Y-Yes?"

The Uchiha looked over his shoulder, his eyes a bloodied red and leaking enough killing intent to smother a trained shinobi. "Remember your allegiances."

Naruto blinked, and the Uchiha was gone, red silk curtains fluttering in the open window.

Naizen collapsed back into his seat, shivering uncontrollably. He reached into the folds of his expensive yukata, uncorking a hip flask with shaking fingers and taking a deep gulp of whatever strong alcohol was inside.

"…Spirits above," he muttered to no-one. "Is the danger really worth the reward?"

Naruto got to his feet as quietly as he could, eyes wide. Their voices had been quiet, but he had exceptionally sharp ears and had heard them well enough. He looked over the unfurled scroll next to him, making sure he had jotted down all the important details of the conversation, and then snuck out of the office as quickly as he could, his mind racing.

This was too big for him to handle through regular channels. The Hokage needed to hear this. Right _now_.

…

"Talk about the situation being grave," Koharu scoffed, her scratchy voice sounding peeved. "You've always had a talent for understatement, Hiruzen."

"Oh, lay off, you old washerwoman," Sarutobi grumbled, gnawing on his pipe. "If I need sarcasm, I'll ask for it."

"She has a point, though," Homura intervened as he examined the map of the Elemental Countries spread out on the table before them, the differently coloured pins that denoted troop deployments, important locations, and political hotspots stabbing through the paper. There were far more of them than last year, Sarutobi noticed gloomily. "The situation is far more dire than we expected, now that Dog-san has returned with fresh intelligence from Lightning Country."

"The Shogun of Lightning Country is deploying his armies along the border to Frost Country," Danzō mused, tapping the map at the specific spot with a wrinkled finger. "They've taken up garrison in the fortified border towns near the mountain passes, so they're obviously planning on staying there for a while."

"Some sort of bluster, you think?" Sarutobi asked, peering at his old friend intently. "Perhaps to intimidate their neighbours?"

Danzō grimaced, looking as if he had just bitten a particularly sour lemon. "If you ask me? No. If it was meant as a temporary display of force, there would be more threatening messages sent to the local nobles, perhaps even an ultimatum to the daimyo of Frost and the other minor countries, to bludgeon them all into submission. But our informants would have reported something like that, which means that Lightning have kept surprisingly close-mouthed about the whole thing. Unusual…"

"They're digging in and staying for a while," Homura said, agreeing with a sharp nod. "They're planning something. Something big. I have no idea what, though."

"You don't just deploy three hundred thousand footmen, cavalry, and samurai on a whim," Koharu muttered, her old eyes as sharp as ever as she pondered the situation. "The Raikage _knows_ we'll take offence to this. So why didn't he interfere at the Lightning Emperor's court?"

Sarutobi shrugged, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "I don't know," he admitted. "Our infiltrators in Kumogakure haven't been able to report back to us for a while. Jiraiya is certainly concerned, from what little he tells me."

"We're operating in the dark here," Danzō said quietly, his single black eye never leaving the map. "How worrisome."

Sarutobi threw the old war hawk a sharp look. "Does Root have anything on these new developments?"

"Little, and most of it useless," Danzō admitted, and it was obvious that speaking these words galled the prideful cripple beyond measure. Sarutobi would have smiled if the discussion wasn't so serious. "I sent out a few teams into Lightning Country, but they haven't been able to dig up anything. Their shogun has locked up the borders tighter than Homura's wallet."

"Should I take offense to that?" the bespectacled elder mused. "I mean, it _is_ a compliment."

"Shut your trap," Koharu snapped, slapping her teammate across the back of the head with an open palm. "This _really_ is no time for jokes! We have troops massing in Lightning Country, there's been more and more cross-border raids by Rock ninja; and let's not forget that the Uchiha are planning a coup under our very noses! Are those reasons enough for you to take this seriously?!"

Homura sullenly rubbed the back of his head, throwing her an annoyed look as he adjusted his glasses. "Yes, ma'am. No need to hit me."

Koharu nodded, smirking at him. "Good. Now, about those rumours that have been flying around the capital—"

She snapped her mouth shut the moment a masked ANBU soldier stepped into the room, glaring at him.

"I'm terribly sorry, Hokage-sama, esteemed councillors," the hapless ninja muttered, managing to look contrite without even showing his face, "but there's someone that wishes to speak to you."

Sarutobi frowned. "Who? I said that I didn't want to be interrupted!"

The ANBU winced. "Well, I tried _telling_ him that—"

"Let me in, you bunch of idiots!" a loud voice yelled from the Hokage's antechamber, muffled by the heavy wood. "I've got to speak the old man right now! It's urgent!"

Koharu's eyebrow twitched. "Who the _hell_ is making that racket?"

The Third rested his face in his hands. "Naruto," he groaned. "Why am I not surprised? I should be, but I'm not. This is all Tabibito's fault, I swear…"

Danzō looked up from the map, his single black eye focusing intently. "Naruto Uzumaki is here? The jinchūriki?" The ANBU nodded hesitantly. Danzō quirked his remaining eyebrow. "Send him in."

Sarutobi glanced at him, taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"Why so surprised? The demon host seems to think it's a matter of importance," his crippled advisor replied, shrugging his shoulders. "It might just be worth listening to."

Sarutobi frowned. "Don't call Naruto that."

"I will call him what he is, old friend," Danzō retorted, his eye narrowing sharply. "I've never been one to sugarcoat the truth, Hiruzen."

The Third barked out a humourless laugh. "Sugarcoat it? No. Hide it? Yes."

"We'll talk about your trust issues later, Shimura," Koharu interrupted sharply. "The matter at hand, if you please?"

Sarutobi sighed, waving at the ANBU. "Send for him, and make sure that nobody listens in. That includes you lot as well."

The ANBU bowed quickly, evidently relieved, and quickly closed the door behind him as he left. A few moments later, the door to the planning room slammed open as Naruto charged in at full tilt, arms spreading out to stop himself from crashing face-first into the table.

"Old man!" he shouted, wide blue eyes focussing on the Hokage. "I've got news, and you're not gonna like it!"

"Do tell, young man."

Naruto flinched when Danzō addressed him, and he seemed to only _then_ realize that the Hokage wasn't alone. He squeaked in fright when he felt the sharp eyes of all three councillors on him, trying to make himself appear even smaller than he was.

"So this is the jinchūriki?" Homura said quietly, peering at Naruto through his glasses. "Interesting."

"Grandpa," Naruto muttered, quietly shifting his weight in what Sarutobi recognized to be a rough combat stance, his blue eyes narrowing when he realized that these people knew him. "Who are these guys?"

"We, young man," Danzō spoke up, "are a few of the village's councillors and the Hokage's personal advisors. My name is Danzō Shimura." He slowly got to his feet, supporting himself on his cane, and sketched a rough bow to Naruto. "It's an honour to finally meet you, Uzumaki-san."

Naruto remembered his lessons on etiquette with Hiashi and Hinata, and quickly bowed himself. "Er, likewise, Shimura-san," he muttered, uncertain what to say or do. It was rare for him to be treated with polite respect. The only one who did was Hiashi, and that was only because the head of the Hyūga clan detested familiarity of any sort.

"You've grown, Naruto-chan," Koharu addressed him, a small smile quirking her wrinkled mouth.

"Sorry?"

The old woman cackled. "The last time I saw you, you were only as big as a wine bottle, you know! You've grown taller, but that's to be expected after six years." She threw him a critical look up and down. "Though you're still rather skinny. Do you eat enough, boy?"

"You can mother the boy later, Koharu," Homura said, rolling his eyes. "I do believe that Uzumaki-san had something important to tell us, considering the roughshod way he interrupted our strategy session."

Naruto hesitated, throwing an uncertain look at Sarutobi. The Hokage smiled back reassuringly. "It's alright, Naruto. These are my teammates, my friends. I would trust them with my life."

"How overly sentimental," Danzō muttered, though he smirked at the Third, looking silently pleased.

"Oh, shut up," Sarutobi grumbled. "Naruto? What is it you wanted to tell me?"

Naruto blinked, then snapped the heels of his cheap sandals together and saluted as best as a six-year old could. "Genin Naruto Uzumaki, registration number zero-two-four-six-zero-one, reporting from his mission, Hokage-sama!"

The Third tried hard to suppress the fond smile that threatened to show on his face. If Naruto was taking protocol seriously, then so should he. "Report, genin Uzumaki."

Naruto relaxed, folding his arms behind his back in parade rest and began making his report. Iruka had spent a lot of his free time teaching Naruto how to make a decent report, and after countless attempts ('The Hokage doesn't _care_ if your attack looked awesome, Naruto! He needs _information_ in a _timely_ manner, not boasts!') that had the newly minted chūnin tearing his hair out in frustration, the lesson had finally stuck.

In three minutes, Naruto had summed up his entire three days of following around Jigo Naizen without getting spotted, breaking into his offices, tricking his way into the restaurant, and listening in on his conversation with the unknown Uchiha. He handed over the transcript of the conversation he had made, and when asked, used a henge to show them the mysterious Uchiha in person.

Once he was done with his report, Sarutobi stole a look at his old friends. Homura's eyebrows had climbed all the way into his hairline during Naruto's report, Koharu frowned, looking thoughtful as she drummed her fingers on the table, and Danzō…

Well, Danzō's expression hadn't changed at all. Nothing new there, except that he studied Naruto with something close to curious fascination.

"Thank you, genin Uzumaki," Sarutobi said out loud, nodding at his youngest subordinate. "You've done an excellent job. Considering that you had an encounter with a possibly hostile ninja, I'm upgrading the mission difficulty – and your payment – from class C to class B. Again, well done."

"An understatement if there ever was one, Hiruzen," Homura muttered, shaking his head in amazement. "You are a credit to your profession, Uzumaki-san."

"For once, you're actually saying something that makes sense," Koharu sniped. "Good work, Uzumaki. Your father would be proud of you."

Naruto grinned widely, rubbing the back of his head in happy embarrassment at the compliments.

"Indeed," Danzō said after a moment, peering intently at Naruto with his remaining eye. "No matter how young you may be, rest assured: I won't underestimate your skills ever again."

"Hehe, thanks, Shimura-san." Naruto's grin disappeared, his eyes growing serious. "So, Gramps, what are you planning to do about this mess? I mean, they're planning on kicking you out, aren't they?"

The Hokage smiled wryly. _Oh, they're planning on doing more than just that, little one._ "Don't worry, Naruto," he said quietly. "We'll think of something."

Naruto considered him for a moment, before he broke out into his usual grin. "Well, if you need help, you know you can always trust me and Uncle, right?"

Sarutobi chuckled, puffing on his pipe. "I know, I know. Now go home, you little rascal – I'm sure Tabibito is worried about you."

"Nah, he's not," Naruto muttered, scowling. "He's probably playing his songs in the Dragon and passing out drunk from all the free shots he's getting. And then I have to carry him to bed. Lazy bastard."

"Language, young man!" Koharu said sternly. "You're in the presence of the Hokage."

"Ah, come on!" the boy soldier whined. "I made my report, didn't I? I'm sure he doesn't mind."

"Off with you, Naruto," Sarutobi laughed, shooing him away. "We all have work to do, you know."

Naruto gave him a grin and a cheeky salute. "See ya around, old man. Esteemed councillors," he added quickly, making a polite bow to the others. He then left, slamming the door behind him and bidding a cheerful goodbye to the ANBU guards outside.

"…Interesting," Danzō commented once the sound of his footsteps had pattered away.

"What's interesting?" Homura asked curiously. "The boy, or the information he gave us?"

The head of Root smirked. "Both."

"We need to decide what to do about the Uchiha clan," Koharu said, briskly reminding them of the purpose of their meeting. "This cannot go on. They're quite prepared to betray the village's interests to the Cloud, from what Itachi tells us, and if what Naruto-chan says is true, then they have begun to gather support in the capital." She paused, eyes narrowing. "That _would_ explain the rumours I've been hearing at the imperial court, actually…"

"What are those rumours?" Sarutobi asked, though he had a pretty good idea.

"Things along the lines of you going senile and losing your touch," Koharu said dismissively. "Complete nonsense, of course, but civilians don't know much about our affairs. It has started to turn the imperial court's opinion against you, though. I thought it was just useless babbling, but now it seems that it's an organized campaign to discredit you."

"And now that the Cloud is militarizing, not to mention Rock crossing the border more and more…" Homura added morosely. "Things aren't well for the Leaf."

"What can we do, then?" Sarutobi grunted. "I need options."

"Eradicating the Uchiha clan would be one," Danzō said bluntly.

"You _cannot_ be serious," Koharu snapped, eyes blazing.

The crippled ninja simply shrugged, his expression never changing. "It would certainly remove our immediate problem."

"And it would expose to the world that Konoha is divided," Koharu retorted, her palm slamming flat onto the table. "Iwa and Kumo will think us weak and use the opportunity to invade Fire Country, and the whole system of treaties that have kept the peace since the last war will collapse! Do you _want_ another world war that badly, Shimura?!"

Danzō scoffed, unimpressed. "I survived three world wars. I have enough strength left in me to survive another one."

Koharu's face reddened as she snarled at him. "Of all the _arrogant_, _foolhardy_ things to say—"

Homura raised his hands, trying to cool tempers. "Now, now, everyone—"

"I have decided our course of action in regards to the Uchiha," the Hokage announced.

All conversation stopped immediately as the three elders stared at the village's leader, who was now tipping out the bowl of his pipe into the ashtray and calmly filling it again with his favourite tobacco.

"You have?" Homura said, sounding sceptical. "Let's hear it, then."

The Hokage snapped his fingers, a small flame flashing between his fingers. He lit his pipe and took a long drag, looking far more tired than any of his friends had seen him in years.

"We'll make an example of them."

…

And… _Cut!_ Finally, Chapter Twelve is done. Thank goodness.

Just so you're all aware, Fugaku is an asshole. A complex asshole, perhaps, but an asshole nonetheless. You don't sell out your long-time allies just to support a coup. That's bad behaviour.

In case it wasn't obvious, Danzō is not necessarily an evil monster in this story. He may be ruthless, driven, militaristic, brutal, and his worldview might be skewed (to say the _least_), but he always had Konoha's good in mind. That doesn't necessarily mean that he'll follow the Hokage's goals point for point, though – he wouldn't be Danzō if he didn't have his own agenda.

I decided to take a slightly different interpretation with the Hokage's advisors in this story. In most Naruto fics I've read, there are mostly presented as suicidally idiotic stumbling blocks and obstacles to Naruto's and Sarutobi's/Tsunade's plans – the worst kind of strawmen. I call bullshit on that interpretation. They're mean to be _advisors_, which means that they give _advice_. It might not be exactly a popular job, especially since you have to an obnoxious smartass that nobody likes by definition, but it's an important duty nonetheless. Which is why in this story, they give constructive criticism and present different viewpoints.

Oh, and they bicker a lot. Probably the whole UST left over from their youth.

…Now _there's_ an image I didn't need in my head. Good _God_.

I wanted to write a tense scene different from an action/fight scene, so I hit on the idea of Naruto having an information gathering/stealth mission. The idea of little Naruto sneaking around to get intel à la Solid Snake/Sam Fisher made more sense to me than chasing bandits – he's too young and innocent for extreme violence. Yet. Did it work as intended?

Oh, and the song that Naruto sings to Naizen is "Bad Apple", which can be found in the Touhou fandom. Creepy stuff, but so _deliciously_ awesome. If you can, check out the cover made with traditional Japanese instruments on Youtube. It's worth every minute of your time.

…

The original manga series of _Naruto _was written and drawn by _Masashi Kishimoto_, originally published by _Shueisha_ in 1997, and is still ongoing at the time of writing (May 2012) after sixty published volumes and two different anime adaptations: one simply titled _Naruto_ by_Studio Perrot_ that premiered in October 2002 and ended in February 2007, and its sequel_Naruto: Shipuuden_ (Naruto: Hurricane Chronicles) by the same studio that premiered in February 2008 and is still ongoing at the time of writing. Various tie-in works like novels, video games, and a series of theatrical movies have been published to date.

Again, please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.


	13. Chapter XIII – …Beware the Calm Days…

DO NOTE that this story IS NOT endorsed by the original holders of the intellectual rights or copyrights mentioned at the end of this chapter. This is a work of _fanfiction_ based on the original work and its associated franchise, with the intent to amuse and distract its readers. There is absolute no intent to make money or otherwise deny the original copyright holders their given due. Should the original holders of the copyright be offended by my use of their rightful property, I will gladly take it down in accordance with the Terms of Service of this website. Please support the official release(s) mentioned below.

…

Good day or good evening to you, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the thirteenth chapter of _Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox_!

Thank you very, very much for your patience is waiting for this chapter to get done; I've had a bit of a busy life recently. Nothing that could be helped otherwise, unfortunately, and I have no idea when I will update next. Thank you very much for all your comments, reviews, alerts, and favourites – they certainly encouraged me to keep writing. Thank you, again and again.

Now, this chapter is what I like to call a 'build-up and exposition' chapter. Don't run away yet, that doesn't mean it's boring! There are fight scenes, dialogue, and dramatic stories all the same, but the Uchiha Coup Arc isn't quite done yet.

That doesn't stop this chapter from being bloody huge. I hope you appreciate it!

But my rambling is not what you're here for, is it? Onward with the story, then. Leave me some of your comments, no matter whether you thought if it was good or bad, or simply tell me what you thought! I look forward to it.

Please, enjoy this chapter and leave a review. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

…

**Miserly Old Man, Trickster Fox**

**Chapter XIII – …Beware The Calm Days…**

…

_**Heilongjiang Province, North-Western Fire Country  
Five months before the Autumn Festival**_

To the very northwest of Fire Country lay Heilongjiang Province. Of little economic and political worth, the wooded, mountainous plateau it was located on had been a frequent battleground for its neighbours: the Lands of Grass to the east and Waterfall to the north, and beyond the large mountain range in the northwest lay Fire Country's great neighbour and long-time rival, Earth Country.

The people of Heilongjiang Province had been killed by the thousands in the brutal wars fought here. Many more fled to the far safer central lowlands of Fire Country. Those that chose to remain became tough, resilient, and warlike, hiding in their mountainside villages and valleys and trying to get on with their lives as much as they could as armies marched past and shinobi flitted by in the darkness.

In a valley close to the border, an army camp sat nestled on a well-travelled road to a mountain pass leading out of the country. Thousands of soldiers milled about in the frosty spring air as they went about their duties like a bunch of upturned ants, the city of tents stretching out as far as the eye could see.

In his lone tent at its centre, a man sat down after a long day's hard work, sighing when he could finally rest and relax. A calligraphy scroll lay unfurled in front of him, brushes and a small pot of ink next to them.

Taikan Kawakami smiled fondly as he picked up a thin brush, dipping it in ink. It had been far too long since he had found the time to practice his calligraphy. His wife would probably think him a barbarian once he returned home, considering he never had the time to practice the kinder arts of a warrior's life, but he still tried to find the time to write a phrase or two when he could.

There were few opportunities these days, unfortunately.

"General Kawakami! Kawakami-dono, may I please enter? It's a matter of great importance!"

He sighed to himself. Even when he asked for a little peace, his wish was rarely fulfilled. When you commanded one of the Fire Shogun's armies, you had little time to spare for yourself. Duty heavier than a mountain, indeed.

"Come in, Matsumori," he called out loudly.

The flap of his tent was thrown back, and a lightly armoured samurai shuffled in on his knees, bowing deeply. "Kawakami-dono," the young man intoned respectfully as he drew himself back up. He looked justifiably tense.

The general didn't interrupt his work. He let the brush meet paper, and with a few elegant strokes, the first symbol of his newest work appeared.

"I asked not to be disturbed," he noted calmly, dipping the brush back into the ink.

His adjutant shifted nervously, though he tried to remain stoic in the face of his superior. "Of course, General. However, there is a matter that requires your immediate attention."

"Is that so? Enlighten me."

Matsumori hesitated for a moment, but then ploughed on. "…General, the shinobi promised by Konoha have arrived. Their commander is waiting at the gates of the camp."

"We asked for their help months ago, so why did they only turn up _now_?"

"They apparently didn't want to get stuck here during the winter," Matsumori said quietly, though he wasn't really trying to defend the secretive caste of warriors.

Kawakami grunted, displeased. "A weak excuse if there ever was one. The mountain passes may have been closed, but that didn't stop the bastards from Iwa from making trouble."

"Kawakami-dono, we should go greet them," Matsumori spoke up cautiously, trying to make it sound like a suggestion instead of an order or a desperate plea.

Kawakami nodded his head and carefully set his brush down, displeased. There may have been no love lost between the Shogun's warriors and the Hokage's mercenaries, but it would be foolish to offend an important ally. Especially when said ally was as fickle and dangerous as shinobi usually were.

After returning his swords to his belt, Kawakami swiftly left his tent and marched through his camp, refusing to waste time by putting on his armour. It was a large camp – the size of a city, to be correct. As far as the eye could see, there were tents, improvised stables, and he could even see the occasional wooden watchtower rising into the sky, on the outlook for potential enemies. As he passed samurai and footmen, they bowed in deep respect to him or saluted.

About fifty thousand soldiers – crossbowmen, archers, footmen and cavalry, all trained and drilled for months and months – were quartered here near the mountain ranges in the North-Western province of Heilongjiang in the Land of Fire. This particularly harsh and indomitable province bordered the Land of Earth, and the army stationed here under Kawakami's command was quite prepared to march against any enemy foolish enough to cross the designated boundaries despite the armistice signed at the end of the last war.

It had taken them well over a month to fortify their camp during last year's autumn, but it had been a dire necessity – they wouldn't have survived the winter and the several feet of snow that accompanied it, otherwise. Even then, some unfortunate soldiers had frozen or starved either in their tents or when they lost themselves patrolling in the wilderness during a snowstorm, spirits rest their soul. They could certainly be replaced, but every man lost to nature was one less they could use against their foes.

Still, even though now spring was well underway, there was still a sharp breeze that bit into his skin, discomfiting even Kawakami, a man forged by lifelong training, discipline, and hardship. He tried not to shiver.

"There she is," Matsumori muttered to his commander.

Kawakami threw him an annoyed glance. "_She?_"

"Yes," Matsumori said, looking as uncomfortable as Kawakami felt. "Over there, sire."

He nodded unobtrusively at a woman standing at the entrance of the camp, surrounded by a growing group of gawkers, with her hands folded over her mouth and light flickering through her fingers as she tried to light a cigarette. She was indeed wearing the symbol on the Leaf around her forehead. She was also alone, a growing group of samurai and soldiers watching her suspiciously.

Kawakami drew up before her, his own stance guarded and wary, his off-hand tightly gripping his sword's sheath. The ninja before him looked up idly, smiling at him with a cigarette clenched between her teeth. "Yo," she said by the way of greeting, waving amiably. "Are you General Taikan Kawakami of the Imperial Fifth Army?"

The proud general tried very hard not to let his temper flare. The _nerve_ of that woman to speak to casually to him! He swallowed his anger, instead only nodding once and scowling. "Yes, I am. Identify yourself."

"Irritating," she muttered under her breath, rolling her cigarette from one corner of her mouth to another. She made a light bow. "The name's Nara, Inoue Nara, Jōnin of Konohagakure," she introduced herself lightly, smiling amiably at them. "Hokage-sama appointed me as the commanding officer of the shinobi regiment sent to assist you. An honour to meet you, I'm sure."

Inoue Nara didn't _look_ particularly impressive. She was middle-aged, neither particularly tall nor short, and her long brown hair was tied up into a ponytail that kept it out of her eyes. She had a fair and pleasant face, and her whole way of dressing – the Leaf's green flak jacket that did nothing to emphasize her lithe build and plain features, the many pockets stitched everywhere into her clothes, the fingerless gloves she wore against the cold – just _screamed_ pragmatism. She was visibly unarmed, and her stance was completely at ease and relaxed as she patiently awaited the general's answer.

That last aspect of the woman before him worried Kawakami more than he cared to admit. The ninja knew that she was surrounded by dozens of trained swordsmen that didn't have a very rosy opinion of shinobi and their magical trickery (not to mention that they would never accept a _woman_ on the battlefield), and yet she looked as if she didn't have a care in the world. And Kawakami was sure that he had heard the name 'Nara' before as well. How troubling.

His adjutant, on the other hand, seemed to lack his master's keen eye and instinct for self-preservation. Matsumori scoffed loudly. "A regiment? I don't see anyone beside you here, Nara-san!"

The ninja smiled, one corner of her mouth crooking up, and there was a sudden glint in her sharp brown eyes that genuinely alarmed the experienced general. "Shows you how good they are, wouldn't you say? But if you insist…"

Taking out her cigarette, she raised her other hand to his mouth, whistling shrilly.

And suddenly, the samurai and soldiers weren't quite alone in their camp anymore.

There were several sounds like firecrackers going off, poofs of smoke revealing previously innocuous warriors and foot soldiers to be stern-faced men and women wearing the Leaf's symbols or their commander's distinctive green jacket and various pieces of armour, while more and more shapes came into sight from the surrounding countryside so fast that it looked as if they appeared out of thin air.

Some of them were obviously armed with a variety of nasty-looking weapons, while others were empty-handed – but Kawakami knew that a trained shinobi didn't need many weapons to tear apart an entire infantry platoon by himself. Some of them were masked and armoured, other wore concealing bands of cloth that obscured their faces, and those who didn't wear them were simply blank-faced or scowling as they faced down their unhappy welcoming committee.

In less than a few moments, the centre of the square had been filled with several dozen stern-faced men and women that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Matsumori swore loudly in surprise and went for his sword, but Kawakami's iron grip around his wrist prevented him from drawing it.

At his adjutant's look of dismayed surprise, Kawakami quietly shook his head. He had seen the way those shinobi had moved and how they had positioned themselves amongst his subordinates and their leader – should a fight start now, they would be able to wipe out his entire bodyguard with little effort.

He returned to face Inoue Nara, whose eyes were even and calm, though he could have sworn that she was secretly laughing at him. Kawakami glared right back. This woman was far more dangerous than people thought at first glance.

The general scowled. She was a _shinobi_, damn it all. He should have expected this.

"Are these all your men?" he asked bluntly.

"Hm? Oh no, that's only a small part of my group. Not all of them men, either. I sent out the rest to scout out the terrain and start patrolling, if you don't mind," Inoue said airily, smoke trailing her fingers. "Got to show initiative, you know."

"How many of you are there, then?"

"Five full-sized battalions, three platoons each, so… Five hundred operatives? Give or take a dozen or two."

Kawakami scowled. He dearly needed any help he could get, especially once the mountain passes opened again and the raiders from Iwagakure started crossing the border to prey on the local trading routes. Not to mention when a bandit army or an adventurous daimyo got ideas into their heads. He may not like working with those dishonourable mercenaries, but by the spirits above and below, he _would_ do it if he had no other choice.

"…Alright. You'll follow my orders while you are under my command, Nara-san. Do we understand each other?"

The ninja breathed out a small cloud of bluish smoke, looking thoughtfully into the grey sky. "Nope, I don't think we do."

Kawakami's frown deepened. "Excuse me?"

The woman sighed. "Alright, it seems we need to clarify a few things, _General_," she said lightly, stepping forward until she was very close to him. Some of the samurai surrounding them began to shift and mutter quietly under their breaths, but the ninja held steadfast, not budging an inch.

"Here's the deal, General Kawakami," Inoue Nara said quietly as she stood a mere foot from him and Matsumori, her calm brown eyes boring relentlessly into his own. "_I_ was sent here by Hokage-sama to protect the Earth-Fire border near Heilongjiang Province from Iwa raiders. _You_ were garrisoned here by Her Imperial Highness – spirits bless him and his reign a thousand times over – and your Shogun to do the same. We have the same goal, and we will cooperate." She leant forward, her voice a quiet susurrus that he could barely make out, but that nonetheless wormed its way into his brain. "But you do _not_ give me orders."

Kawakami's eyes narrowed at her. "Oh?" he spat out. "And how will we cooperate, then?"

"As we always have in the past," Inoue said offhandedly, waving her hand around lazily. "We ninja scout, we give you reports, you march all the way to the battlefield if need be, and then you lot fight while we go around cutting the throats of the bad guys while everyone is distracted." She smiled cheerfully. "Just like good old times, Kawakami-dono. It'll be fun, don't you think?"

"Your definition of 'fun' needs work," the general said sourly.

Inoue shrugged. "Well, as long as we're the ones having it and not the enemy, I doubt you'll want to complain." She dropped her cigarette, squashing it with the heel of her boot and turning around to walk off. "Until then, gentlemen."

"Wait!" Kawakami said loudly. Inoue stilled, throwing him a curious look over her shoulder. "How do we find you?"

Inoue Nara smiled at him. "Oh, don't worry about _that_ little detail, General. We'll be the ones finding you, after all."

And with a last lazy wave over her shoulder, she walked away. Kawakami blinked, and then she was gone as if she had suddenly melted away into the shadows. Her fellows disappeared soundlessly into the trees over the next few moments, not even leaving footprints behind.

As Kawakami walked back to his tent, deep in thought, he could hear the disgruntled mutters of his footmen and warriors. One of the soldiers he passed spat on the ground, scowling. "Fuckin' ninjas…"

Kawakami grimaced. Crude and undignified, and yet he couldn't help but agree.

In the grey sky above, he saw a hawk circle, the bird drifting off into the low clouds a moment later.

…

_**Red Light District, Konohagakure  
**__**Four Months before the Autumn Festival**_  


There was a small teahouse on the corner of an intersection in the akasen of Konoha.

Anyone under the impression that the word 'teahouse' implied some sort of sophistication or respectability would have been sorely mistaken. 'Teahouse' was the only appropriate definition for this place, because it sold tea – the cheap kind that only labourers, peddlers, and poor journeymen could afford. Those who wanted something stronger were offered beer, cheap saké and homemade moonshine. The whole thing was cheaply built, the floor dirty, and the dishes baked from cheap clay.

It was also the hangout for the local yakuza, which explained why the regulars were all heavily armed, gaudily dressed, and threw evil looks at any stranger that came along.

The proprietor didn't mind too much. He didn't get many new customers, certainly, but his regulars made up for that with copious drinking, generous tips, and protecting his establishment from thieves and robbers. Yakuza didn't like to have their drinking interrupted.

Which was why when he looked up from his counter to see two shinobi throw back the flap and enter his establishment, he couldn't help but start to feel slightly worried.

"H-hello there, sirs!" he called out, trying very hard not to let his nervousness show. "Can I get something for you, gentlemen? Tea, or perhaps a fine spirit or two from our collection? I can also—"

"Tea doesn't sound too bad," one of the men spoke up as he approached the counter, settling with his elbows on the countertop. The man, rather young and admittedly handsome, wore a bandanna around with the knot tied in front, shifting the senbon needle in his mouth and smiling pleasantly at the proprietor. "Does it, Raidō?"

The other ninja, a burlier fellow wearing the standard flak jacket and with his protector wrapped around his forehead in the traditional manner to keep his spiky brown hair out of his face, leant against the counter and shot the quivering proprietor a small look over his shoulder. A large scar ran across the bridge of his nose and over his right cheek, giving him a twisted, feral appearance.

He just shrugged noncommittally, crossing his arms and glancing away. "If you think we have the time, Genma, then I don't mind having a cuppa. Cold breeze out there."

"T-two teas, then?" the proprietor squeaked out.

Being the sole occupant of a shinobi's attention was far more terrifying than he could have ever imagined. And this one was _smiling_. "Please."

"R-right away!"

And then the man scurried into the back. Soon enough, he came back with a pot of hot water, poured the tea, and then disappeared as fast as he could into the back, muttering something about checking his stocks. He was shaking all the while

"…Huh," Raidō said quietly, blowing softly on his cup. "That's weird. You have any idea why he was about to piss his pants?"

Genma shrugged, enjoying his tea hot. "Beats me. Though if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say that they probably don't have that many shinobi visiting around here."

"Ya lot got _that_ right," a voice spoke up. "We don't like 'em, that's why."

Raidō glanced up at the raucous laughter that followed, taking a look at the leers and evil grins he received from the seated gangsters, some of whom were already started to eagerly finger their clubs or daggers. He raised a curious eyebrow at his partner. "Did you hear someone yapping, Genma?"

"No idea what you're on about, buddy," Genma said breezily, downing his cup and refilling it. "Just background noise."

"Huh. I thought so too. Must have been my imagination."

"Oi, oi," one of the larger men rumbled, getting to his feet and scowling. "You trying to start something, pal?"

"Us?" Genma answered, throwing the mobster a mildly amused look over his shoulder. "Goodness no. Why would we do that?"

Another one laughed as he shouldered his wooden sword, showing yellow teeth as he sneered. "That's what I thought. Too punkish for a real fight, aren't ya, ya backstabbing ninnies?"

"Not really," Raidō answered casually, sipping his tea. "Wouldn't be much of a real fight if we were serious, don't you agree?"

"Say that again to my face, why don't ya?!" the man roared, raising his bokken over his head and charging head on. He was interrupted when Raidō grabbed the teapot and smashed it right into his face, the cheap clay shattering on impact. The man stumbled, screaming shrilly and clawing at the shards in his eyes. He was silenced when a snap kick hit him right in the diaphragm, sending him flying into a table and bowling it over, chairs and all.

Raidō crossed his arms, sighing and shaking his head. "Waste of bad tea," he said mildly. "Anyone got a free pot we can use?"

"_Bastard!_" the other men roared as they jumped to their feet, drawing daggers, clubs, and knives and charging straight at the two shinobi. Of the dozen who attacked, half of them suddenly found their wrists and legs painfully locked when senbon needles sprouted out of their flesh, paralyzing their muscles and making them scream in agony as their pierced nerves sent conflicting signals to their brains.

Genma dodged the first wild swing aimed at him with a bored expression on his face, slamming the two needles held between his knuckles with picture-perfect precision into his opponent's neck, dropping the far heavier man like a stone. Raidō had never been one for fancy tricks, instead grabbing his first opponent by the neck and smacking his head hard into the countertop, leaving a sizable dent in it and the mobster sliding to the floor.

Genma smirked as a new trio of needles slid into his hand. Raidō's method may have been less elegant, but that certainly didn't mean that it was any less effective.

Another man charged at them, dagger poised to stab, and Genma repressed a wince as Raidō methodically broke the man's arm in three places and five of his ribs in a single movement.

Make that _very_ effective.

A chair was hurled in their direction, and Genma and Raidō jumped apart in the perfect synchronization only achieved with long training and partnership gained on the battlefield. Another mobster lunged wildly at Genma, only to find himself with a needle jabbed into his groin. His ear-splitting scream distracted his remaining buddy long enough for Genma to grab the man's wrist, slam it down onto the countertop and pin it there with another needle. Before he could so anything else, a vicious punch to the temple felled him, leaving him sagging limply against the floor.

"And _stay_ down!" Genma ordered before idly turning around, wondering how Raidō was doing with his two newfound friends. He ducked just in time to avoid one of them sailing over his head and slamming into the tea house's collection of cheap spirits behind the bar, bringing the entire row of bottles crashing down on top of him. A moment later, he saw his partner stomp down on his last opponent's groin, leaving the poor man writhing on the ground and whimpering.

Genma couldn't help wincing in sympathy. Fairness had never been a big part of a shinobi's ethos, but Raidō was even more merciless than most.

"You alright?" the scarred man asked casually, dusting off his hands. Around him was an eclectic collection of unconscious mobsters and smashed furniture.

"Oh, dandy," Genma drawled. "Did you leave any of them awake for us to question?"

"Er… You know, I'm not really _that_ good at subtle."

Genma threw a long look at the destroyed tea house and his partner's sheepish look. "Really? Never would have noticed if you hadn't told me. Lucky for you," he said, hauling the last conscious man onto his feet, "I planned ahead."

Raidō blinked once when the whimpering man tried to fend off his captor. "Is that a _needle_ in his ballsack?"

"Never knew you liked to look at a fella's nether regions, Raidō-chan. Coulda warned me a few years earlier, don't you think?"

"You jabbed a needle in his balls," Raidō said slowly, staring incredulously at Genma, "and you call _me_ sadistic."

"Ah, we can quibble over details later. Now," Genma said cheerfully, grabbing the mobster by his hair and yanking his head up. "I've got a few questions I'd like answered."

"Fuck. You," the yakuza grunted, struggling vainly against his captor's hold.

Genma brandished another one of his favoured needles in the man's face, smiling pleasantly. "Now, now, my friend. So far, I've only stuck a needle into your right testicle. If you keep annoying me, there's still another one I can practice on. So, where can I find your boss?"

The man said nothing, glaring at him impotently.

Genma's grip on the gangster's hair tightened, and the man grimaced in pain as Genma jabbed the needle dangerously close to his eye. "Where is Bako?" he hissed into his ear.

"I'm here, gentlemen," a loud voice rumbled. Both Genma and Raidō blinked, turning to face the newcomer standing in the doorway. He truly was a mountain of a man, his shades and bald head gleaming in the feeble light entering from the doorway. His face revealed nothing to them, though he was tense as he watched the scene before him.

Bako stood there, his fingers clenching and unclenching around the handle of his bokken. "Let my little brother go."

"Oh, so this is one of your subordinates?" Genma said idly, watching the injured gangster groan in pain before smiling politely at Bako. "Well, thank goodness! I thought we'd need all day to find you!"

"What do you want?" Bako growled, taking a menacing step forward. "You're not military police."

"Heavens no," Raidō muttered, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms. "An Uchiha wouldn't be seen dead in such a shitty tea house."

"We just wanted to talk to you," Genma said brightly, letting go of the gangster's hair and leaving him to slide to the floor, weeping and clutching his bleeding crotch. "Unfortunately, these gentlemen insisted on… well, _entertaining_ us first, for lack of a better word. Messy business, that."

"What," Bako repeated slowly, his eyes glinting dangerously over the top of his shades, "do you _want_?"

"We have a little proposition for you, Mister Bako." Raidō reached into one of the many pockets of his flak jacket, pulling out a simple scroll. He stepped closer to the mobster, holding it out to him with a bored expression on his face. "We know you are only one of many members of the Red Dragon Syndicate operating in Konoha. We want you to pass on this message to your superiors and all the way up the food chain until it reaches the Dragons themselves."

Bako gripped the scroll, watching the two shinobi before him warily. "And what happens if I don't?"

"Then we kill everyone in this room, including you, and the Hokage signs the anti-organized crime laws that he's got sitting in his desk," Genma explained politely. "And then we start cleaning up the red light district."

"…You wouldn't _dare_."

Genma chuckled, smirking at the mobster. "Don't mistake the Hokage's acceptance for ignorance, Mister Bako. You are tolerated as a necessary evil, and even Sandaime-sama recognizes that the resources and influence of your network can be occasionally useful." He took the senbon needle out of his mouth, twirling it skillfully in his fingers. "But you are _tolerated_ in Konoha. Nothing more, nothing less."

"…Fine," the gangster grumbled. "I'll pass it on."

Raidō let go of the scroll, stepping back. Genma smiled, clenching his teeth back onto his needle and bowing. "Pleasure doing business with you, Mister Bako." He clapped a hand on the man's shoulder as he walked past him towards the door. "Good day to you and your friends! Oh, and you should definitely switch your digs," he added as he threw back the entrance flap, grinning. "The tea's bloody awful."

And with that, the two shinobi walked out into the street, disappearing like smoke a moment later.

Bako turned to look at the devastated tea house, seeing the first of his men regaining consciousness, giving heartfelt groans of pain and sympathy as they helped each other up, carefully took out the vicious senbon needles jammed into their limbs, or simply nursed their broken limbs and bleeding heads.

Bako stared. Two men had been the ones to do this. Two men using nothing more than a few simple weapons and the skills they had honed for years on end had wiped out an entire yakuza hideout without even taking a single life or getting a single scratch in return. And he knew that if they had wanted to kill his subordinates, it would have taken them only a few moments and even less effort to do so, what with all the mysterious tricks they had up their sleeve. They probably wouldn't have even batted an eye at the thought, either.

And there were _thousands_ of men and women just like them in this village alone.

_No, not men_, he corrected himself, shaking his head in disgusted admiration. _Shinobi._

Bako rubbed his forehead as the proprietor came out of hiding and started whimpering about the state of his shop and asking who would pay for the damages. He glanced at the small message scroll in his hand and saw the seal of the Third Hokage stare back at him.

The hardened criminal shuddered. The sooner he gave this damned thing to his superior, the happier he'd be.

…

_**Konoha ANBU Base November-Six-Echo, Unspecified location in North-Eastern Fire Country  
Three Months before the Autumn Festival**_

Kakashi Hatake, currently known to both his friends and comrades (there wasn't much of a difference, really) as 'Dog', was bored out of his mind. He was laying on his bunk bed in the underground barracks of the base he and his team were currently assigned to, reading one of his favourite novels by Jiraiya. For the fifteenth time in less than a week.

To no one's surprise, it did nothing to relieve him of his tedium.

Well, that wasn't exactly fair. He should be _glad_ that things were quiet, really. When the Special Tactics and Assassination Corps had little work to do, that meant that all was right with the world. Well, most of the time. In Fire Country, at least.

Still, that didn't mean that it wasn't mind-numbingly _boring_. Being on standby was irritating. Half the base's complement of ANBU squads was on standby at all times, ready to go out on missions at the wink of their commander, while the other half trained and honed their skill to a razor's edge.

Kakashi disliked being on standby. The members of ANBU squads currently put on standby weren't allowed to train at all, except to keep their skill at their current level. Avoiding dangerous training accidents and keeping the troop's fighter complement intact and rested took priority over marginally increasing their skills.

Kakashi also disliked getting rotated _out_ of standby, but for a different reason. While you could train your skills and teamwork with your squad as much as you wanted, you weren't allowed to participate on missions, as you were expected to increase your skills. And that got boring too.

_So, to conclude_, Kakashi thought wryly, letting the book flop down on his face, _I only seem to be happy when I'm outside in the world assassinating someone or training for it. Joy. _

Someone knocked loudly. "Hey, Dog!" a voice called from outside the corridor of the barracks. "You in there?"

"Come in, Sword," Kakshi answered mildly, burying his nose back into his book.

The door opened, and a man stooped under the low ceiling. He stopped dead, and even though he wore a full-face mask, Kakashi could just imagine his long-time partner blinking owlishly at him. "…Are you reading that book _again_?"

"Yes."

"Why?! I mean," Sword struggled, doing some quick maths in his head, "that has to be the fiftieth time this month! You barely read anything else!"

"I don't _have_ anything else to read," Kakashi pointed out cheerfully. "Except jutsu scrolls and intelligence reports, of course, but those are work, not pleasure. Besides," and here he gave Sword a small smile, the exposed skin around his eye flushing as his grey eye glazed over. "What else would I need, especially when I have great romance and the adventures of beautiful maidens to lavish my attention on?"

"Considering we're stuck out here in the middle of nowhere, it's not really surprising that you're getting neither," Sword grumbled, slamming the door behind him and sitting down on the empty bunk opposite Kakashi's. For a moment, none of them said anything.

"Hey, Dog," Sword began.

"Door's closed," Kakashi said promptly, not looking up from his book. "Call me by my name, why don't you?"

Although the slits in the white mask revealed nothing, he knew Sword well enough to be sure that his fellow ANBU captain was rolling his eyes right about now. "Fine," he muttered, taking off his mask and frowning at him. "Kakashi-sempai, then."

"Not this again," Kakashi groaned. "I started my training a year earlier than you. A _year_, that's all. So why do you call me that? It makes me feel old."

"Hah," Sword chuckled, smiling faintly. It took years off his weary face. "I just do it because it annoys you."

"You're a jackass, Tenzō."

"You're no less of one, _sempai_."

Sword dodged the book thrown at his head, effortlessly snatching it out of the air with one hand. He flipped it open at a random page and started to read nonchalantly. Kakashi stared, his single grey eye narrowing. "…Are you planning on giving that back, Tenzō?"

"Nope. If I do, you're never going to listen to me."

"Touché." Kakashi drew himself up, groaning. "Fine. Is something bothering you, Tenzō, and if there is, do you want to talk about it?"

"Bear is dead."

Kakashi said nothing as his old partner flipped a page. Tenzō hadn't twitched a muscle when he spoke, though his eyes weren't really focussing on the book in his hand.

The ANBU captain coughed into his sleeve. "Sorry to hear that. How'd it happen?"

"Ran across a Cloud patrol inside the Land of Frost when we did our usual reconnaissance of the mountain passes. Apparently, they disagreed about us being there. A lucky shot from their platoon leader got him."

"Hard to believe he's dead," Kakashi muttered, falling back onto his bunk and staring up at the ceiling. "He always looked as if nothing could ever kill him."

Tenzō chuckled. "Remember that time when that young hotshot brat gave us trouble in that bar in Western Fire Country?"

Kakashi couldn't help but crack a smile. "Yeah. He was from one of the local ninja clans, wasn't he? Thought he was all big and bad because he'd taken down some two-bit missing-nin. Came up to us, drunk as all hell and wanted to pick a fight."

"And then Bear cracked his skull and sat on top of him until he'd calmed down, remember that?" Tenzō chortled.

"That was one of the funniest things I've ever seen." Kakashi deepened his voice, trying to imitate his former subordinate's rumbling tone. "'_I suggest you try and keep it in your pants, boy, or you might not like it when we start comparing size_.'"

Tenzō grinned wistfully. "Didn't even spill a drop of his beer while he did it, either."

"As skilled as they come," Kakashi agreed. "Good man, too." He glanced at Tenzō. "You did kill them all, right?"

The other ANBU captain gave him a small, mirthless grin. "Nope. I saved the bastard who nailed him for Ibiki."

Kakashi smiled. "Well done. Wherever Bear is, I'm sure he appreciates the love. Hold on, I got something that might help…"

He sat up and started rummaging under his bunk bed, coming out with a pleased "Aha!" and a rather large bottle. Tenzō stared. "Is that—?"

"Yep," Kakashi said, smirking under his mask. "Finely distilled Northern Brandy from Lightning. I lifted it from a daimyo's cabinet when we raided his estate a few months back. Haven't broken it in yet, so…"

Tenzō shook his head, looking half amused and half horrified. "That violates far more regulations than I can count, you know."

"Bah!" Kakashi snorted, waving it off. "The old man won't mind as long as we can still do our jobs. Besides, we deserve a few perks. So, what do you say to a glass or two? Come on," he wheedled, smiling under his mask. "Bear wouldn't have wanted you all gloomy about him dying. He would have grabbed that bottle and drunk it all himself if he got the chance."

A corner of Tenzō's mouth crooked up in sheepish amusement. "You're a bad influence on me."

"I know," Kakashi said cheerfully as he grabbed two dusty glasses from a bag under his bed. "Corrupting you is far more fun than I ever imagined it to be."

"One glass, then," Tenzō said as Kakashi poured him two fingers of the strong alcohol. "For Bear."

"For Bear," Kakashi agreed, lifting up his own glass and grinning. "May he be reincarnated as something cute and fluffy, because we all know that that would piss him off more than anything else in the world."

"Amen," Tenzō agreed, throwing back the alcohol in one go and grimacing. "Spirits, that's strong." The ANBU captain glanced over to his friend and saw that the white-haired man's glass was already empty, Kakashi's cheerful smile hidden under his facemask. He shook his head ruefully. "I've never understood how you're able to do that with that mask on your face. Share the secret?"

"Nope. It's always fun to keep people guessing. Besides, you're a ninja. Just try and find out on your own."

"Well, you smug jerk, let me tell you—"

The heir to the techniques of Hashirama Senju stilled when he felt the ANBU tattoo on his shoulder burn with a sudden pulse of heat. The communication seal worked into the tattoo kept heating up and cooling at strange intervals that only trained ANBU soldiers would be able to decipher as the code they used for long-distance communications.

_.: Base to Sword : Report immediately to Base Commander : Mission Briefing : AAA-Rank : Details TBA : End of Transmission :._

He looked up at Kakashi to see that his single grey eye had narrowed sharply. "You got it too?" he asked.

"Yep," Kakashi confirmed, frowning at nothing. "Commander wants to see us. Me I can understand, but you? That's strange. Aren't teams with recent casualties supposed to be put on standby until the replacement has arrived?"

Tenzō rose with a frown. "True. That _is_ unusual."

"Well," Kakashi said lightly, slipping on his own porcelain mask with a smile, "let's see who the boss wants us to kill this time."

And as he got up, Tenzō thought he could see the moment that Kakashi became the ANBU Captain Dog, even if it was nothing more than him standing up slightly straighter, a small twitch of his fingers towards the weapons pouch at his side, or the small shuffle of his feet into a more steadfast stance that showed he was ready to kill and maim at any moment.

Tenzō gave a small chuckle, slipped on his own mask decorated with stylized blades on its cheeks, and followed his old partner out of the barracks.

This would be fun.

…

_**Forbidden City, Ch'ang-an, Imperial Capital of Fire Country  
Two Months before the Autumn Festival**_

The Emperor returned quietly to his chambers, resting from another exhausting day of courtly rituals, pleasantries, and negotiations. He carefully removed his elaborate headdress and placed it on the exquisitely fashioned mantelpiece in his bedroom, sighing loudly and glaring disgustedly at the gaudily decorated piece of cloth. Selling the gems and silk alone would have been enough to feed an entire village for a year.

He shook his head, sighing in resignation. If there was one thing he knew certainly, it was that he simply couldn't give up. The Emperor clapped his hands together, sending a small prayer of thanks to the spirits and the Enlightened One.

Soon, his attendants arrived and helped him get rid of his imperial regalia, an act that took a good quarter of an hour. The Emperor endured it with stoic boredom, though he was glad when they all left and simply left him alone to enjoy his dinner.

Before he sat down at the lacquered dinner table, though, he looked up in the room, dimly lit as it was by a paper lantern. "Shinobi-san," he asked the thin air, smiling. "Are you there?"

A brief breeze ran through the room, and the Emperor thought he could see a few leaves dance in the dim gloom. When he blinked, a man was suddenly kneeling before him, his right fist on the ground and his posture rigid, the sash on his belt identifying him as one of the Twelve Guardians.

The man bent his head low. "You called, August One?"

"Ah, there you are," the Emperor said, smiling wryly. "I was wondering whether you lot ever left me truly alone, even in my moments of privacy, but it appears I was mistaken."

The ninja bent his head even lower, not daring to look up. "Forgive me, August One, but I—"

"Asuma Sarutobi," the Emperor interrupted him sternly. "I order you to look at me."

The young man looked up, his brown eyes betraying the worry he felt. He didn't look particularly dangerous or terrifying, but looks often betrayed those who relied solely on them. But even if one looked past the easy-going smile and laidback charm, the ungainly stubble growing on his face which he refused to shave, and the occasional uncertainty of youth, he still moved with a certain purpose and lethal grace that warned others to be wary of him.

"Would you like to eat something, Sarutobi-san?" the Emperor asked quietly as he sat down at the dinner table. "I can have my cooks bring you something, if you wish."

The young man stared up at his position on the ground, dumbfounded. "But, August One—"

"Have you already eaten, Sarutobi-san?" the Emperor said idly.

"Er. Yes, I have, August One."

"Hmm. Pity." The Emperor waved idly at Asuma as he began to eat. "Do get up and keep me company, Sarutobi-san. I would like to get to know the newest member of my bodyguards." He turned to the young shinobi, smiling. "It seems only fair, considering that you are going to be protecting me day and night, learning all my little quirks and faults while doing so, wouldn't you agree?"

Asuma shot to his feet, looking rather harried. "Yes, August One, it seems fair!"

The Emperor sighed. All the new guardians acted like this. Nervous, irritating, and terrified of offending him, but they got over it after a while. Most of them, at least.

"Would you like to smoke, Sarutobi-san?"

The ninja goggled at him. "Excuse me, August One?"

The Emperor glanced at him, drumming his fingers impatiently on the tabletop. "Chiriku told me you were a compulsive chain smoker. He disapproved of it, of course." The Emperor smirked faintly. "But then again, he's a monk, and his kind is well known to disapprove of anything that distracts someone from searching for Nirvana or learning the teachings of the Enlightened One. If you want to smoke, I won't stop you."

"But I'm on duty!" the young ninja protested.

The Emperor rolled his eyes. This was getting ridiculous. "Asuma Sarutobi, as your sovereign, I hereby order you to light up a damn cigarette and smoke it down to the very stub. Understood?"

"Yessir," the young Sarutobi snapped sharply, saluting promptly out of habit. He flushed a moment later. "Er, I meant—" At the Emperor's askance glance and raised eyebrow, his shoulders slumped in misery. "I'll just light up that cigarette now…"

The Emperor picked up his chopsticks again, amused. "Good decision."

As he continued with his meal, the Emperor carefully watched his newest bodyguard out of the corner of his eye with a skill he had honed over a good two decades of ruling a quarrelsome court of often manipulative and deceptive nobles, warriors, and bureaucrats.

Right now, the young ninja that had appeared only a few months ago at the front gates of the Forbidden City was busy fishing out a cigarette, snapping his fingers to strike a small flame that set the end alight. As soon as he breathed in the first lungful of the noxious smoke, Asuma's shoulders became less tense and his face relaxed, if only slightly.

The Emperor smiled, amused. Asuma Sarutobi was an impressive young man by all accounts: eldest son of the Third Hokage, a qualified jōnin and experienced leader of men at a very young age, and his skills had been considered particularly stunning. A few months ago, Asuma Sarutobi had appeared at the Azure Dragon Gates of the Forbidden City and had brazenly asked for an audience with the Emperor himself.

As he lacked a message from the Hokage or any other good reason that might have granted him admission, the guards curtly sent him away. He appeared the next evening at court, cheerfully interrupting an important ritual. None of the guards, visiting warriors, or Twelve Guardians had noticed him entering the Forbidden City and approaching the Emperor until he could literally reach out and touch him.

He caused a scandal when he threw himself at the Emperor's feet, not daring to look up and loudly begging for the privilege to join the Twelve Guardians. The Emperor, impressed by his skill, had accepted his servitude without a second thought.

At first, the other Guardians were furious at this interloper prancing around in their midst, but they changed their tune after the young ninja prevented an assassination attempt on their charge when the Emperor decided to visit the domain of one of his lieges.

Asuma tracked down the man who had ordered the assassination (a fairly influential daimyo whose lands had fallen on hard times), singlehandedly slaughtered his entire retinue of skilled warriors, and killed him in his home. When Asuma brought back the perpetrator's bloody head to the capital and presented it to the Emperor, the other Guardians finally accepted him in their ranks.

Still, Asuma Sarutobi was still nervous and stiffly formal – terrified of offending his benefactor, in fact. When the Emperor managed to catch him off-duty, he looked tired and gloomy with a cigarette clutched in his fingers, bitterness flashing in his eyes before his calm stoicism reasserted itself in the face of his suzerain.

He had asked Chiriku for the reason behind the ninja's troubles, but the monk had sombrely answered that he simply didn't know. This only served to heighten the Emperor's interest even more.

The ruler of Fire Country was determined to find out what made his newest bodyguard tick. He had always had a hand for puzzles and mysteries – and the shinobi of the Leaf, despite living in his country for generations and having always been the imperial throne's steadfast allies, were one of the most mysterious of them all.

"I heard a few interesting things at court today," the Emperor said lightly as he delicately put down his chopsticks, sighing contendedly.

"…Is that so, August One?" Asuma said cautiously, slowly dragging on his cigarette and peering at the smiling Emperor, apparently still not quite used to his ruler's attempts at idle conversation. "What kind of things?"

"Rumours, mostly. They concerned your honourable father."

The Emperor had always been impressed by the ability of shinobi to hide their true feelings. Still, he spotted the way in which Asuma's shoulders tensed and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. It was barely noticeable, and he was quite certain that even most shinobi wouldn't have noticed it, but the Emperor had not for nothing spent decades dealing and negotiating with courtiers, diplomats, and irritable lords.

_So the father is apparently a sore subject with the son_, the Emperor mused. _Interesting. _

"Really?" Asuma said, his voice remaining neutral and his face carefully blank. "What did they say?"

"It was idle speculation, mostly," the Emperor continued, affecting a light, unconcerned tone. "Some of the courtiers were wondering why Sandaime-sama would allow the shinobi of the Rock to raid the western provinces with impunity, or why he has done nothing against the military build-up in Lightning Country…" He laughed quietly, as if he was telling a mildly funny joke he'd heard from a friend. "They seem to think he has gone senile, apparently. Weak and indecisive."

Asuma took a long drag on his cigarette and said nothing. The Emperor glanced at him, curious. "What do you think about this, Asuma-san? Of all the people at the imperial court, you would know your father best."

The Hokage's son breathed out blue smoke. "With all due respect, August One, I never really knew my father. I certainly _thought_ I did…" His voice trailed off, and he barked out a bitter laugh. "Well, my father was always a clever man."

"You don't seem particularly fond of him," the Emperor noted quietly.

"I love him as a son ought to love his father," Asuma countered, trying hard not to glare at his benefactor. In the end, he looked away, staring angrily at something far away. "That doesn't mean that I agree with everything he says and does."

"…Is that why you are here in the Forbidden City, serving me?"

Asuma's mouth crooked up in a wry smirk. "Where else would someone like me go, once he has rejected his father and all the things that man stands for?"

"Indeed." The Emperor smiled at his bodyguard. "Well, I am glad you chose to come here. I'm sure that you would have been a fearsome rebel or bandit. Now, if you'll excuse me," he said, rising from the table, "I will retire for now. It has been a long day."

Asuma pinched the end of his cigarette, bowing deeply. "Goodnight, August One."

"Goodnight, Asuma-san."

As the Emperor walked away, hands folded in his sleeves, he heard a small sigh behind him. "August One!"

The Emperor turned around, smiling politely. "Yes, Asuma-san?"

The Guardian hesitated, trying to find the right words. "My father is a wily man," he finally said, his words slow but his eyes earnest. "And he has been a shinobi for more than half a century. He has survived three world wars where only a few handfuls have survived one, and the enemies of Konoha tremble before him. He may _look_ and _act_ like a peaceful old man…"

The Emperor raised a hand, stopping whatever Asuma meant to say. He smiled faintly. "I understand perfectly, Asuma-san. Don't worry about it."

The young Sarutobi bowed deeply, smiling in obvious relief. The Emperor turned around and left for his bedchambers, thinking all the while as he walked through the silent corridors of his palace in the Forbidden City.

_Nothing is ever as it seems_, he thought idly. _That rule applies in peace, and that rule applies in war. And it certainly applies to shinobi, who see no difference between the two. What was their mantra again?_

It was only when he entered his bedchambers and saw the scroll hanging from the wall that he remembered. It had been a gift from the Third Hokage, presented to him by the man himself on his last visit to the capital – the Emperor's coronation. The beautiful calligraphy ran from top to bottom, the elegant black strokes standing out starkly against the delicate, pale paper.

_Look underneath the underneath. _

The Emperor smiled wryly. Good advice, even if it came from a dangerous old man with his own agenda. It had often helped him.

He stepped past it through the darkened room, opening the window for some fresh air. Outside, the lanterns of the capital lit up the night like a tapestry of fireflies.

The Emperor watched it for a moment, fascinated. The capital itself housed countless people – the last census had been well over a decade ago, and even then the count had climbed well in the hundreds of thousands – and even in darkness, it was as brightly illuminated as the day. People bustled in the streets both night and day, toiling away at their own existences and dreams, no matter how small or insignificant as they may have been.

Not for the first time, the Emperor wished he could be one of them, if only for a single day. He sighed. Alas, his duties demanded otherwise.

And as he turned around to finally get to bed and fall asleep and do it all over again the next day, he saw a tall figure melt out of the shadows, its blank white mask shining eerily in the darkness.

The Emperor stopped, unsure at the sudden appearance of the figure. An errant spirit, perhaps? Well, it always paid to be polite. "Good evening," he said mildly, bowing his head and smiling. "Can I help you?"

The figure cocked its head, and for a moment, the Emperor thought that the _thing_ behind the white mask studied him intently, like a wolf would prey or the judge the accused. He repressed a small shiver, standing his ground resolutely. Showing fear always lead to more trouble later on.

_I am the Emperor_, he thought, old words and teachings giving him strength and dignity. _If anyone is the judge in the mortal realm, it is _me_._

And the oppressive feeling disappeared as the figure dropped to its knees, bowing its head low. "_August One_," it intoned, its voice warped and crackling like coals in a fireplace. "_I bring a message to you_."

The moon reappeared from behind the clouds that had concealed it, and now the Emperor could see that what he had thought to be a vengeful spirit was in fact a tall man wearing a white mask, a hooded cloak covering him from head to toe, the grey cloth pooling around his feet. As he shifted, ripples of dark light danced across the fabric like the disturbed water of a pond, its colours adjusting to meld with the scenery behind it.

The Emperor tore his eyes away from it, lest he allow them to trick his mind _again_. "A message?" he asked, his tone growing sharp. "From who? Speak!"

The masked figure cocked its head, the fang marks on its cheeks making it look like a deranged monster in the faint light. A gloved hand parted the cloak, holding out a sealed scroll.

"_An ally_," the warbling voice spoke eerily, the sound menacing despite the figure's lack of obvious aggression. "_And a friend_."

The Emperor carefully reached and slowly touched the small scroll, fearing a trap the entire time. Nothing happened, and the masked figure shifted, some impatience creeping into its posture.

The Emperor finally grasped the scroll, bringing the seal on it up to his eyes. His breath stilled for a moment when he recognized the ribbon bound tightly around it. He hurriedly bit his thumb, letting the single drop of blood run across the seal, and quickly unfurled the scroll and read it carefully.

_Spirits above and below, help us. _

The Emperor blinked, looking at the hooded figure kneeling before him. "How do I answer?"

The mask tilted quizzically. "_No answer_," it croaked. "_You have received the message. That is all you need to kn—_"

And then suddenly the figure moved, soundlessly disappearing in a blur of air. A split second later, the heavy end of a monk staff smashed into the ground where its head had just been.

The Emperor felt more than saw something rush past him in a gust of air, and for a split second, he thought he saw the Hokage's son leap at the cloaked figure with a snarl, arms outstretched and the fistfuls of storm gathering around his blades nearly visible in the moonlight. A few hisses of air slashing through the room followed before Asuma was suddenly grabbed and thrown by the cloaked figure, flying through the air and unceremoniously crashing into the Emperor's four-poster bed.

Chiriku stepped forward quickly as his fellow Guardian fell, his staff jabbing out once, twice, thrice times, each attack forcing the cloaked figure a step backwards. As he brought it down to strike his enemy once more, the cloaked figure moved fluidly around the attack, grabbing the heavy staff with both hands. With a vicious twist of the wrists, it disarmed the warrior monk, ramming the metal-plated butt end into his jaw. Chiriku stumbled backwards, still conscious, and quickly adopted a fighting stance, putting himself between the Emperor and the masked man that moved like a ghost.

There was a sound of tearing cloth, and Asuma burst forth from the tangle of torn curtains and cloth, scowling as he readied his viciously serrated trench knives once more.

The whole confrontation had lasted less than six seconds.

"ENOUGH!"

At the Emperor's shout, everyone in the room froze. The ruler of Fire Country stepped forward, glaring at his bodyguards with fury in his eyes. "What on _earth_ is the matter with you?!"

"We've spotted an intruder, August One," Chiriku said tightly, his eyes never leaving the masked man before him. "We came to eliminate him. The punishment for entering the Forbidden City without permission is death."

"He _has_ my permission! Stand down, Chiriku-san!"

"Permission granted in hindsight does not alleviate the severity of the committed crime itself, August One," the monk said evenly, not shifting out of his guarded stance. "He could have easily killed you."

A warbled laugh echoed around the quiet room, and the cloaked figure shook its masked head in amusement. "_I could have killed your precious Emperor anytime I wanted in the last two minutes_," its distorted voice taunted. "_Where were you _then_, little guardians? Playing with your prayer beads or moping in your corner, perhaps?_"

Asuma growled, the blades of wind in his hands shifting erratically, while Chiriku said nothing. His glare could have killed any lesser man in a moment, though.

The Emperor's arm lashed out, his sleeve snapping sharply in the room. "Enough of this foolishness," he ordered his bodyguards sternly, before turning to face the masked man standing by the window. "Tell your master I received his message. I will honour my side of our bargain, as long as he honours his."

The figure relaxed its stance. "_A wise choice indeed_," it spoke, bowing deeply. "_I will certainly report this, August One. May your reign last a thousand years._"

Its mask then tilted towards Chiriku, who was still glaring daggers at it. The figure threw the staff at the warrior monk. "_Watch out for grappling in close quarters_," it spoke, the words a mocking taunt. "_If your enemy can dodge your staff, he can also grab it_."

The monk glowered at the mask, anger making his jaw twitch. "I'll keep that in mind, demon," he spat out.

The figure bowed to him as well. "_May you always tread the right path, wanderer_."

And with that last goodbye, it turned on its heel and leapt onto the windowsill.

"Wait just a damn moment!"

The masked figure looked over its shoulder. Though it was impossible to tell because of the flickering cloak, the Emperor thought it looked surprised as its mask turned to face Asuma.

The young Sarutobi glared heatedly at the masked figure. "Did my father send you?"

For a moment, the figure just stared until its mask tipped backwards in what might have been a hint of surprise, but it said nothing. Asuma snarled.

"Is this one of his tests again? I'm sick of his schemes and manipulations! Tell that to him, you hear me?! Tell him _that_ was the reason I left!"

The mask remained blank – what else could it have been, really? – but the Emperor thought that there was a certain thoughtfulness to the way its owner moved.

"…_Your father knows you are here_," it said slowly. "_He knows of your flight. He has chosen not to punish your desertion. Yet._" The figure stayed unperturbed by Asuma's feral growl of anger, continuing to speak in its crackling voice. "_He may not approve of your choices, but he respects them. As long as you honour the Will of Fire, your father will not harm you._"

"Always with that cursed Will of Fire," Asuma spat out. "Does his world consist of anything else?"

The figure shrugged. "_Why don't you ask him when you return?_" The mask tilted, the shadows and moonlight making the twisting patterns on its cheeks look like it was grinning malevolently._ "If you ever have that chance again, that is._"

And with that the masked figure spread its arms wide, allowing itself to fall backwards into the night.

Asuma ran over to the window, peering outside into the darkness. The clouds had returned, hiding the moon, and he saw nothing but the lights of a few lanterns in the courtyard below and the shadows of the night pooling on the roofs of the palace. The masked figure was nowhere to be seen.

"Gone," he snapped curtly as he turned around, sheathing his trench knives with slightly more strength than was necessary. "That drop is at least forty stories. Either he's dead, or he managed to escape."

"Let's assume the latter," Chiriku said slowly, the bangles on the end of his monk's staff tingling as he gripped it tightly. "We'll secure the August One's safety first, but then we'll need to organize a manhunt. Kazuma, Handa, and I will take care of it."

The Emperor clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I sincerely doubt you'll be able to catch him, Chiriku-san."

"As do I," the monk said, having somewhat regained his composure, but he still looked severe and angry – more at himself than at anyone else, the Emperor was sure. "But we still failed. The Twelve Guardians failed. Trying to atone for our mistakes is also part of our duty, August One."

"I'll go," Asuma said immediately.

"You will stay right here," Chiriku retorted, his tone stern and uncompromising. "It was your duty to watch over the August One's safety. You failed. Try not to do so again."

Asuma's shoulders slumped in resignation. "Of course, Chiriku-san."

"Good." Chiriku hopped onto the windowsill. "Someone bypassed all of our security plans and walked right up to the August One himself. We failed in our duties. _This_ _will not happen again_."

And with that, the warrior monk disappeared soundlessly. Asuma sighed and scratched one of his unshaven cheeks, looking rather put out. "Well, there goes the neighbourhood…"

The Emperor laughed quietly. "Well put. And although Chiriku has a point about my safety being important, there is another matter that you might want to look into."

"Really? What would that be?"

The Emperor pointed at the tangled mess of torn cloth, silk, and broken wood that had been his bed until a few moments ago. "Finding me a new place to sleep, to begin with."

As Asuma groaned in what might have been embarrassment and irritation as he realized that Chiriku would no doubt ask him to clean that up too, the Emperor couldn't help but smile, even though the alarming message he had read only moments ago was still first and foremost in his mind.

_Truly, we live in interesting times. _

…

_**A month before the Autumn Festival, Fire Country**_

All over Konoha and the garrisons in the cities surrounding it, shinobi began to pack their bags, seal essential supplies in scrolls, and told their families and friends goodbye as they prepared to leave for their new assignments.

In the North-Western provinces of Fire Country, several regiments of shinobi began to cross-train with the Shogun's armies, staging large-scale exercises near the borders to Frost Country and its neighbour, Lightning Country.

In the mountainous North-Eastern provinces, several secret bases that had been abandoned after the last war as a sign of good faith to Earth Country were quietly staffed and rearmed; trained shinobi, supplies, and weapons flowing continuously into the area.

More and more shinobi from the regular forces were sent out of the hidden village into the outer provinces on long-term construction, patrol, and bandit extermination missions, leaving the village with far fewer defenders than was common, even in peacetime. The villagers and shinobi wondered what had prompted these deployments, but accepted them with aplomb – they were the Hokage's orders, after all. Why question them?

In the clan estates of the Uchiha, hurried conversations and muttered opinions were exchanged. Some wanted to strike now, others wanted to wait for a later opportunity. Fugaku Uchiha silenced all dissent when he ordered that the original plan would be followed to the letter, brooking no argument.

At the Imperial Court, quiet whispers were traded between courtiers as to what on earth the Hokage was playing at, leaving the inner provinces near depleted of battle-trained shinobi. Senility and age-related short-sightedness were often mentioned. The Emperor listened politely, smiled, and did nothing.

In Earth Country, a large man with spiky white hair was currently visiting a hot spring known for its healing properties across the entire province. The man frowned as a messenger hawk swooped down from the skies towards him, interrupting his peeping in the mixed baths and badgering him to take the message tied to his leg. He reluctantly read it. As soon as he was done, he hurriedly left in the direction of Fire Country. The proprietor cursed the fact that his guest never paid his sizable tab and swore revenge. It would come to bite the white-haired man many years later, but that is not important to our story right now.

In the Northern port city of Kanegawa, a group of apparently moderately well-off men and women gathered. In truth, they wielded far greater influence and power than most generals and daimyo. They read the Hokage's missive, forwarded to them by one of their subordinates in Konoha, and decided to wash their hands of the matter. They wouldn't take sides in the great game between nations and hidden villages – it was bad for business.

In the weeks leading up to Konoha's yearly Autumn Festival, many small groups of shinobi trickled into the village disguised as travelling merchants, peddlers, and immigrants. As soon as they had cleared the customs inspection at the village walls, they returned to their designated safe houses, put on their ANBU masks and armour, equipped themselves with their usual array of lethal weaponry, and began the long wait until they could finally act.

Jigo Naizen and a dozen other merchants in Konoha watched the Autumn Festival approach with anxiety and hope in their hearts, even as their caravans brought in weapons, explosive tags, and numerous other bits and ends to stage a coup d'état, the supplies getting whisked away without anyone noticing. Or so they thought.

And around the Hokage Tower, messenger hawks arrived and departed in far greater numbers and with far greater urgency than normal, but only those who were actively looking for that little tidbit of information ever noticed it. And those who did notice kept their mouth carefully shut. It was the healthier thing to do.

And in one of the village's many training grounds, two children trained and learned under the watchful eyes of their teachers.

…

_**Third Training Ground, Konoha  
Two Weeks before the Autumn Festival**_

"Your stance is off balance, Hinata. Lower your centre of gravity a bit, and adjust your left heel about… two millimetres to the right."

There was a small shuffle as the clan heir's daughter nervously did as she was told, holding her current form as best as she could. "Y-yes, Father."

"Tuck your elbows in!" Hiashi said sharply, frowning as he took in her entire form with his Byakugan. "Always present as small a target as you can."

A small movement of the arms, and her form was hurriedly corrected. "Yes, Father!"

"Your elbows are weak points," Hiashi lectured as he walked around her, examining her form from all angles. "If your enemy manages to strike at them, at best you will begin to lose blood and concentration, which is fatal. At worst, your arms will become nothing more than useless lumps of flesh slowing you down and keeping you off-balance, which is _equally_ fatal."

He saw his daughter swallow, her eyes looking straight ahead at nothing as she shivered. The message was sinking in, then. Good.

These sort of blunt and gruesome statements were the basis of Hiashi's teaching style. Telling her the truth about the consequences her mistakes could incur was a good motivational tool. Hiashi's own father had sworn by it, and although Hiashi despised the man and his convictions, he couldn't deny that his training methods were effective. After all, he had become a jōnin thanks to them.

And much like his own father, he had never believed in coddling anyone, least of all his own children. In a few years, Hinata would be out there doing Konoha's dirty work, quite possibly fighting for her life and killing others in return to preserve her own and that of her comrades.

So he inflicted this harsh cruelty on her, even if it broke his heart seeing her quiet and terrified when he listed all the possible ways a serious opponent could have killed her in their last training spar, correcting each and every mistake and caustically chastising her when she gave less than her full effort. It was for the best.

Or so he tried to convince himself as he ordered Hinata to go through the last form once more, watching like a hawk for even the tiniest missteps she made. He'd rather have her terrified and alive than happy and dead, even if it hurt both him and her.

Spirits above and below, he could even accept her _hating_ him. She could loath him more than any of Konoha's enemies, as long as she was still alive to do it.

"Second form, again!" he barked out.

Hinata's stance shifted, her arms snapping out to jab once, twice, thrice with the extended index and middle fingers of both hands, each attack followed up a circular step forward while her other free hand slapped away an imaginary enemy's counterattacks.

Hiashi frowned severely for a moment as she stood there, breathing heavily and out of breath and awaiting his verdict like a doomed soul before the Great Judge of the Underworld… and then he simply nodded.

"Well done," he pronounced, one corner of his mouth quirking up. "That was perfect."

His exhausted daughter's face lit up with a surprised, but brilliant smile. "Really?!"

"Really," he confirmed, smirking. "Let's see if you can do it again. The entire sequence of forms, from first to sixth! Go!"

At his shouted command, she reacted instinctively and began to move fluidly from one stance to the next, her open palms moving rapidly to slap away incoming attacks, her fingers slipping into her imaginary opponent's defence.

Through his gift, Hiashi could see that she didn't yet channel chakra through her fingers, but that was fine at her age. Taijutsu and chakra control had to be drilled relentlessly until they were both second nature – only once they were innate and near-ingrained reflexes could a Hyūga combine the two to use the Gentle Fist. Most practitioners of the style took a good decade or two to even approach using it effectively in combat.

Of course, people expected better from the clan's heir. Hiashi had risen to the challenge, mastering the art in his teenage years. He wasn't entirely sure if his daughter, gentle and kind as she was, would be able to do the same.

Hinata stopped abruptly, index and middle fingers extended into a jab to the throat. If charged with chakra, that strike could easily crush someone's trachea, or cut off the chakra flowing to or from the brain. A lethal strike.

Hiashi realized with a nearly imperceptible start that his mind had wandered, and that he hadn't really paid attention to his students before him. He coughed into his sleeve.

"Well done," he said quietly. "We'll begin the next sequence tomorrow, Hinata. You can rest now."

She relaxed, falling out of the tense combat stance and bowing deeply to him, hands folded in respectful acknowledgement. "…Thank you, Father."

He still didn't miss the small glance she shot sideways at her training partner, though. He followed her look to the second of his two students. Naruto Uzumaki hadn't yet dropped his stance, instead keeping deadly still, sweat beading his forehead as he concentrated. He suddenly exploded into a flurry of movement, repeating the sequence that Hinata had just performed perfectly.

That was still something that baffled Hiashi, if he was entirely honest with himself. _Students_. Plural. He still wasn't entirely sure how the clanless child had managed to worm his way into his lessons for his daughter, but it had happened nonetheless.

Actually, Hiashi reflected as he watched the small blond boy run through the sequence, he could recall the exact moment that Naruto had started to learn the Gentle Fist. Well, 'learn' was perhaps too strong of a word.

The old traveller and Hiashi had agreed that they would teach both children together – the heir to the Hyūga clan would teach both Hinata and Naruto what he thought was vital and necessary, things like calligraphy, ciphers, politics, clan rituals, and the occasional chakra and taijutsu exercises – and Tabibito would do the same on his end. It sounded like a fair covenant.

After getting comfortable with both their company, Hiashi didn't think much of going a few forms of the Gentle Fist style with Hinata while they were practicing in the clearing. After all, Naruto wouldn't be able to use it.

In theory.

Hiashi's eyes had nearly left their sockets when he spotted Naruto imitating Hinata's movements a little way off, forehead scrunched up in concentration as he avidly listened in on Hiashi's chastisements and advice as he corrected Hinata. What was truly surprising was that the child managed to do it _well_, learning movements and forms in weeks that had taken Hinata months.

When Hiashi had confronted Tabibito about it while the children practiced alone, the old traveller had just laughed as he sat under a tree, plucking at the strings of his lute. "Brat's wily," he noted with a wry smile. "He never was too good at the whole 'sitting still' business – to my migraine's great shame – and other school stuff like kanji and history, but he's got an impressive thirst for knowledge nonetheless. If he wants to learn something, he'll do it faster than anyone else, I can guarantee you that."

"And you _condone_ this?" Hiashi had demanded, outraged. "Him stealing techniques from his allies?"

"It's only stealing if you get caught, innit?" Tabibito had answered, not looking at him as his fingers danced on the strings. "Besides, you really think he'd teach anything he learns to Konoha's enemies? This is _Naruto_ we're talking about. He'd kill himself before selling out his home."

"He's a _child_."

"A treasure," Tabibito reminded him airily. "He's learning things far quicker than any other kid I've ever seen. Do you _really_ want to stop him from learning something that might save his life one day? Besides," and here the old man's mouth crooked up in a fiendish smile, "it's all fine and dandy as long as you don't give him _official_ lessons…"

For quite a while, the clan heir had been sorely tempted to simply forbid Naruto from watching their practice of the Gentle Fist anyway, but calmed down after considering Tabibito's words and thinking about the matter with a clearer head. Naruto would never be able to use the Gentle Fist, considering that he couldn't pinpoint the tenketsu on a person, so practicing with the two of them simply resulted in him learning one of a hundred different existing taijutsu styles that existed in the world.

As long as he didn't reveal the secrets and weaknesses of the Byakugan to a young, impressionable child, there was no harm in allowing Naruto to pick up a few tricks on the side.

_I was the one who called him a treasure, didn't I?_ he thought drily as Naruto ran through the last form perfectly. _Stopping him from learning anything would be rather hypocritical of me. _

Naruto stopped abruptly, his stance and form slightly different from Hinata's: instead of extending the fingers of his hands, the Yondaime's son had taken to replace the two-fingered strikes that connected with the enemy with sharp punches and vicious-looking knife, ridge, and spear hands. Aimed at the soft targets on the body – joints, throats, eyes, stomach, diaphragm, nose – they could be dangerously effective. Far more debilitating and lethal than the Gentle Fist, admittedly, but effective nonetheless.

Hiashi still found it mildly troubling that such a cheerful and smiling boy like Naruto seemed to have such a great potential for finding new and innovative ways of administering violence, though he decided not to throw stones in a glass house. When had children training to be shinobi ever been _normal_, in any case?

Naruto glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes, holding his stance. Hiashi tilted his head backwards, thoughtfully looking up at the sky. "If I were to say anything," the Hyūga heir said slowly, apparently talking to himself, "I would say that a bit less strength in a certain person's strikes would be useful. Increasing the speed and less telegraphing might not be a bad idea either. Wouldn't you agree, Hinata?"

A small smile danced across his little girl's face, though she managed to hide the laugh that threatened to bubble up. "Yes, Father."

Naruto just grinned at the byplay. He knew that Hiashi couldn't give him 'official' lessons in the Gentle Fist, but he appreciated all the hints he could get when he imitated Hinata and her father. He relaxed his stance, bowing deeply to Hiashi with his hands folded before him. "Thank you, Hiashi-san."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, young man," the clan heir said without batting an eye.

_Sometimes_, he thought idly as Naruto snickered to himself and Hinata giggled into her sleeve, _being a Hyūga does have its advantages_. _Our poker faces are brilliant, for example._ He quirked a small smile. _Jiraiya-sensei never forgave me that I robbed him blind at the casino, I believe. His loss. _

He clapped his hands once, getting his two students' attention. "Now! The taijutsu lesson is over, Hinata. Thank you for waiting so patiently for my daughter to finish, Uzumaki-san; I truly appreciate it."

Naruto smirked up at him. "No problem."

"Thank you. Now, we are going to try something new today."

"Ooh!" Naruto said, starting to jump up and down excitedly, grinning from ear to ear. "Is it a new chakra control exercise? Those from last week were awesome! Or a new knife throwing trick? Or perhaps a new falling method?! Tell us, tell us!"

"We," Hiashi said with quiet dignity, "are going to learn how to draw."

It was only in recent months that he realized why Jiraiya-sensei had always enjoyed messing with the minds and expectations of his students, as infuriating as he may have thought it back then. Seeing the slack-jawed look of surprise on Naruto's face was entertaining, to say the least.

"Drawing pictures?!" Naruto whined like a kicked puppy. "But that's _boring_!"

Hiashi sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a _loooong_ day.

…

"But _why_ are we doing this?"

Hiashi's right eyebrow twitched once. "Because it's _important_," he said, now repeating himself for the fourth time and hating it.

"Yeah, okay, so you say, but _why_ is it important?" Naruto needled, his childish face scrunched up in a frown. "I mean, isn't it more important to learn how to fight with weapons, or control your chakra, or learn a useful technique? How is _drawing_ and _painting_ gonna help me be a ninja? And why do you know it in the first place?"

"Because I am not an uncultured peon," Hiashi muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, but why do _I_ have to learn it?"

Hiashi's other eyebrow twitched. "Because right now, I am your teacher, and I said so."

Naruto threw up his arms in exasperation. "Oh, come on! That's not a good enough reason!"

"Yes, yes it is," Hiashi said through gritted teeth.

There was an amused cackle from the other side of their little gathering. "Trouble educating one rowdy kid, Hiashi?" Tabibito taunted, grinning wickedly. "Far more difficult than it sounds, isn't it?"

"No, it's not difficult," the clan heir snapped back. "Just… tedious." Tabibito's smirk didn't disappear, and Hiashi glared at him accusingly. "You're enjoying this."

"'Course I am!" the old traveller confirmed, his grin only growing wider. "It's definitely funnier when it happens to other people, you know, and not just me."

"I will have my revenge," Hiashi said quietly only for himself to hear. Or so he hoped.

"Yeah, that's all great, Hiashi-san," Naruto piped up, "but why do I have to learn how to draw again?"

Repressing the urge to scream or break the pencil in his hand, Hiashi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, he allowed himself a moment of looking around their little congregation.

They were all arranged in a circle under a tree at the edge of the clearing at the centre of Training Ground Three. To his left sat Hinata, sitting perfectly in the traditional proper position as she quietly drew on a small unfurled scroll before her, smiling to herself at her training partner's antics.

To his right, Naruto fidgeted uncomfortably and squirmed as he tried to draw, trying to get accustomed to the uncomfortable posture – it had taken him quite a while to be able to sit longer than a few seconds without getting a cramp, but even though he was now more than used to it, sitting rigidly still for more than a minute was still something that the excitable child found nearly impossible.

Opposite the heir to the Hyūga clan sat Tabibito, leaning against the trunk of the tree and humming quietly to himself. Apparently, the old traveller was composing yet another song. When he wasn't enjoying Hiashi's failure at trying to teach Naruto some manners, in any case.

"Is it not enough if I tell you to do it, Uzumaki-san?" Hiashi asked, a note of pleading entering his voice.

Naruto frowned at him, crossing his arms stubbornly. "Not really."

_Dealing with Hinata is far easier_, Hiashi lamented quietly. _And less migraine-inducing. She's quiet, never talks back, does as she is told… Spirits help me, I don't know how to deal with this. _

Tabibito laughed. "If you'll take a bit of advice from a man that has travelled the world and witnessed children growing up everywhere…"

Hiashi glared. "I do beg your pardon?"

"Fine, it's your business if you don't want to hear it," Tabibito said, chortling to himself as he turned back to his lute.

At his wit's end, Hiashi sighed, finally defeated. "Fine," he conceded unhappily, his tone biting. "Tell me your great wisdom, Ryokousha-san, so that I may profit from it."

"It's 'Uncle,'" the traveller reminded him with an amused grin. "And no need to kiss my ass; it's rather wrinkly. Now, for the first lesson: kids aren't stupid, no matter how they may act. I know Naruto isn't exactly the most shining beacon of that sentiment around here—"

"Hey!"

"—but it's true nonetheless. Second lesson: give a kid a good reason to do something, and he'll do it, even if he doesn't like it."

Hiashi looked at the old traveller sceptically. "Are you sure of that?"

"Of course I am! Naruto, why do you learn chakra control?"

Naruto frowned in thought. "So I can learn to channel my chakra efficiently, waste less of it in combat, use more difficult techniques, master elemental manipulation, learn to hide my chakra presence from sensors, and fight longer," he rattled off.

"Do you _like_ doing chakra control exercises?"

Naruto made a face. "No! They're boring and exhausting, and it takes ages to get them right, even with the shadow clones. I just stand around trying to channel your chakra, and it takes hours until I get a tiny little bit better at it! It sucks!"

"And yet you still do it, don't'cha?"

Naruto looked at Tabibito, annoyed. "Well yeah, Uncle Tabi. I can't build a house by starting with the roof, can I?"

"Makes sense," the traveller agreed with a quiet laugh before turning to Hinata. "Hey, little lady, do you mind if I ask you a question? Why do you learn the Gentle Fist?"

The girl looked up from her drawing, white eyes blinking in surprise. "Pardon?"

"Why do you learn the Gentle Fist?" the old traveller asked, grey eyes twinkling kindly. "I mean, it's not exactly a walk in the park, is it? It's tough, difficult, exhausting, and all those other things. Not exactly my definition of fun, and certainly not yours."

Hinata glanced at her father, suddenly looking nervous and fidgeting. "That's not true…"

"No need to lie, you know," Tabibito chided. "But you still do it anyway. Why, though?"

Hinata folded her small hands in her lap and looked up into the sky, thinking over her answer carefully. "…It's a gift."

Hiashi blinked. Of all the answers he had expected – duty, filial piety, a commitment to tradition – she had chosen one he had never even considered.

Tabibito's fingers stilled on the strings of the lute as he raised an intrigued eyebrow at Hinata. "You'll have to explain that one a bit more to me, little lady, 'cause I'm rather lost."

"Well, learning the Gentle Fist is difficult and exhausting and painful, but…" Hinata quickly looked away, her words faltering. "…Our ancestors created the Gentle Fist to protect themselves, their children and their descendants in the future," the child said quietly after a moment. "It was their gift to us, to protect us from harm and ward off trouble. They wanted us to learn it to protect ourselves and our friends and family.

"That's why it's a gift. Even if I'm never going to be very good at it, I'll still try to do my best to learn it – because squandering such a great gift from people who cared about me would be far worse than just giving up because it's difficult."

The little girl looked back up to see all of her three companions stare at her and immediately began fidgeting nervously again. "Did I say something wrong?" she asked meekly.

Tabibito blinked, his wrinkled mouth crinkling up into a smile. "Not at all, little lady. Hell, you make far more sense than most of the 'I wanna be the next mushroom hat for no damn reason at all!' nonsense this loudmouth here spouts all the time!"

"Hey!" Naruto shouted, ducking under Tabibito's playful swat to the head. "Not cool, Uncle! No making fun of my dream!"

"Oh, what are _you_ moaning about, brat? It's true, isn't it?"

As the two started to loudly bicker again, Hiashi simply watched his daughter relax out of the corner of his eyes once the others' scrutiny of her disappeared, the child smiling at the commotion before her and then quietly returning again to her drawing.

For some reason, he was saddened that he couldn't quite remember why he had ever wanted to learn the Gentle Fist. It had been a long time ago.

Well, he was fairly sure that his daughter had a far better reason now to learn it than he ever had at her age. Back in his day, you simply did as you were told by your elders. Whether you wanted to or not never entered the equation.

"Oi, Hiashi-san."

The heir to the Hyūga clan blinked, turning his attention away from his daughter only to see Tabibito currently grabbing both of Naruto's cheeks and pulling on them, the whiskers getting stretched beyond recognition as the boy struggled vainly against the old man's stronger grip.

Hiashi's eyebrow twitched again, and he simply sighed in deep aggravation. "Yes, Ryokousha-dono?"

"Now, as you can see," Tabibito spoke with dignity, as if his lecture hadn't been interrupted by him pettily squabbling with a child ten times younger than him, Naruto's arms flailing about all the while, "a child may be all stubborn and confrontational all they want, but they'll learn things they don't like if you give them a good enough reason."

"Leggo o' me, you ol' bashtard!"

"Sure!" Tabibito let go of Naruto's cheeks, causing him to fall backwards onto his back with a loud curse. "Now, Hiashi-san, I'm sure a clever man like you can come up with a few reasons why a skilled ninja should know how to draw, right?"

"Oh, come on," Naruto grumbled as he sat back up and shot an annoyed glare at Tabibito, massaging his whiskered cheeks. "I can understand having to do chakra control exercises – you have to know how to manipulate chakra, that's obvious. But _drawing_? How does that help you with being a ninja? Drawing is for little girls! No offense," he added quickly, grinning at Hinata.

"None taken," she said without looking up, still absorbed in her scroll. A few weeks ago, she would have stuttered out her answer. Now, she had done it without thinking.

Hiashi tilted his head backwards, considering the small boy before him. "Is that so?" he said, picking up his pencil once more and continuing to draw on his own scroll. "I guess I would have made a lovely wife, then."

"You sure have the looks," Tabibito snickered.

"Just so you know," Hiashi said a little louder, ignoring the childish elder, "if you think that 'drawing is for little girls', as you so arbitrarily put it, then you could consider most shinobi over Specialist Jōnin rank, nearly all samurai, and Hokage-sama himself as… 'little girls.' Nothing more than a crude generalization, in fact."

Naruto frowned, squinting quizzically at him. "Whaddaya mean?"

"You think drawing and painting are useless skills because they have no value in direct combat, no?" Hiashi asked, continuing to draw on his own scroll, his pencil jutting up and down, occasionally whisking across the thin paper to shade out a space or add a few dark touches here and there. Cold and methodical. "You'd be right, of course. You can't use a pencil to kill someone—"

"You can, actually," Tabibito interrupted cheerfully. "Bloody hard to do, of course, but stab the bugger through the eye and he'll drop all the same. Or the throat, that works too." He looked up from his lute to see Hiashi glaring at him. "Sorry, carry on."

"Now, just because you can't use it in combat does not necessarily mean that the artistic skills have no place in our work. Can you think of a mission where drawing might come in handy?"

"Er…"

"A reconnaissance mission, for example," Hiashi said calmly. "Scouting out an enemy position and drawing a map or situational portrait showing enemy positions or areas of interest. Cartographing a region so that allied forces can advance faster without having to stop every half-hour to find the right path, avoiding potential ambush sites and natural hazards on the way. Creating a sketch to show the looks of a powerful enemy shinobi you encountered so that it can be included in the next bingo book."

He put the last finishing touches to his drawing. "Skills like drawing and painting can save lives and end them, Uzumaki-san. They might not be as flashy or impressive as the newest ninjutsu or chakra control exercise, but they are useful all the same. See?"

Hiashi picked up the drawing he'd been working on, holding it out to Naruto. The boy's blue eyes widened in astonishment when he saw its subject, snatching it from Hiashi's hands. "Hey! That's me!"

It was indeed a near picture-perfect representation of Naruto Uzumaki – the childlike face and spiky hair carefully detailed, the plain headband wrapped around his forehead, and he was squinting at the observer with his usual wide grin on his whiskered face.

"Very observant," Hiashi said drily. "Now, do you think this picture could be dangerous for you?"

Naruto frowned, considering the picture before him. "Well, not really," he said slowly. "I mean, it's just a picture, right?"

"It _is_ just a picture, certainly," Hiashi agreed. "Now imagine that your enemy got a hold of it and decides to print a few thousand copies of it, sticking up posters all over various cities and handing them out to shinobi under his command with orders to track and kill you. Infiltration and reconnaissance suddenly becomes a lot more difficult, doesn't it?"

"True," Naruto conceded unhappily, looking unusually subdued.

"And that's not the only thing you can do with it," Hiashi continued. "You can hide information in artwork by weaving in specific codes using colour patterns, hidden symbols, and cyphers. The painting of a forest can tell what kind of vegetation exists in that region, what season of the year it is, and what kind of fauna is to be expected when manoeuvring in the area – or perhaps a specific local species of animal can help you narrow down the exact position of the person drawing it – while the sky can be a hint as to the weather conditions on site. A detailed drawing of the night sky can be very beautiful – and using astronomy and mathematics, you can easily extrapolate the exact position of the person who drew it, while the visibility of the stars can show the careful observer whether the area is heavily populated or not."

Naruto just stared at him, looking slightly stunned.

"Many small things can add up to a great amount of information," Hiashi said quietly, taking the picture from his hands. "And information can make or break a mission. Always remember that, Uzumaki-san."

"How do you know all that?" Naruto asked, sounding awed. He flinched when Hiashi fixed him with a sharp glare. "I mean…"

"I know all this, Uzumaki-san," Hiashi snapped, his tone growing harsh, "because I am a shinobi. And that means that I use _every_ weapon at my disposal, not just the ones that inflict violence directly onto the enemy. Wars can be ended with correct application of information – blackmail, a surgical strike on vital enemy supply lines, the elimination of key enemy personnel or crippling of an enemy's chain of command – but for that, you need _information_. And talents like drawing and painting are just one of many skills that help you gather it and send it back home to your superiors."

The young child crossed his arms, mulling it over for a moment, before his slitted blue eyes snapped back up at him. Naruto grinned. "…You got another pencil?"

Hiashi just shook his head with a faint smirk, reaching into his sleeve and handing him a small scroll and a pencil as Tabibito chortled in amusement. Soon enough, Naruto was enthusiastically drawing as well, though Hiashi was quickly forced to give him a crash course in perspective, distance, anatomic proportions, the several stages of creating an artwork, and the correct way to use a pencil.

As much as he liked that Naruto was suddenly enthusiastic about learning how to draw, he certainly didn't enjoy being represented as a stick figure with long hair and wearing a dress. No matter how much it amused Tabibito and his daughter.

Still, he couldn't help but be impressed with the speed at which Naruto was learning. The old traveller had mentioned that Naruto was an incredibly hard worker despite his young age, which explained a lot of his rapid progress, but there was something else as well. Tabibito said that the young Uzumaki did not exactly have a talent for academics, but Naruto still learned calligraphy, history, and the myriad of other little things that Hiashi taught both him and Hinata at an incredibly fast pace.

Naruto was simply… sharp. When he put his mind to things, he learned them faster than any other child Hiashi had ever seen, analysing a process to be learned, reassembling it step by step and then repeating those steps until he had mastered it from the ground up – whether it was a ninjutsu, chakra control, taijutsu, or anything else. The shadow clones only multiplied his progress.

In fact, it reminded him eerily of a young Minato Namikaze.

Of course, Naruto was also quite different from his father. Minato's success and quiet aloofness had often engendered jealousy and resentment. Naruto was goofy, quite willing to crack a few jokes at his own expense to make Hinata and his teachers smile, and quite easily the most hyperactive child that Hiashi ever had the (dis)pleasure of knowing. Instead of making Hinata resent him because of his sudden success at learning the Gentle Fist, though, he enthusiastically encouraged her, motivating her to work harder and getting her to reach heights that Hiashi had never thought possible before.

A lot like his mother, then.

He glanced out of the corner of his eyes at Naruto, who was sitting cross-legged on the ground, tongue stuck between his teeth and squinting as he tried to draw a picture of his Uncle Tabi sitting under the tree and playing the lute, with moderate success.

Hiashi smiled faintly as he returned to his own picture – a smiling portrait of his wife sitting in her garden, drawn from memory. He felt a small pang of sadness in his heart, but it lightened when he heard Hinata giggle at something foolish that Naruto had said.

His wife would have loved to meet Naruto, he was sure of it.

They sat like this for the next few hours of the day, the three of them drawing, idly chatting and listening to Tabibito playing a string of melodies and humming under his breath. Occasionally, he would ask their opinion on a song he was composing, or Naruto would bombard Hiashi with questions on how to get a specific perspective in his drawing right, but it felt more like a companionable get-together instead of a serious lesson.

Still, all good things end at some point, and this particular one ended when a figure appeared on the other end of the training ground's clearing. It was soon revealed to be one of the Branch House members of the Hyūga clan, the stoic clansman stopping at a respectful distance and bowing deeply to his future clan head.

"Hiashi-sama," he spoke quietly. "Your honourable father has asked to see you."

Hiashi frowned in annoyance. "I said that I would be out today, and asked not to be disturbed."

"Your honourable father is aware. He, however, personally bade me to fetch you. He wishes to speak to you."

Hiashi let out a sigh of resigned irritation. "Fine," he said brusquely. "Tell my father I am coming to see him. I'll be there soon." The messenger bowed respectfully, disappearing in a quick body flicker.

Hiashi turned back to his daughter, still frowning. "Hinata, pack your things. Your grandfather," he spat the word, "is demanding our attention again."

Hinata nodded mutely, bowing her head as she gathered her drawing utensils and various scrolls. Naruto looked dismayed. "You're leaving? But it's only early afternoon!"

"Naruto!" Tabibito said sharply. "This is clan business."

"Yeah, so?" the boy muttered rebelliously. "Doesn't mean that—"

"Naruto," Tabibito chided him gently, but no less stern. "This is _family_ business. They have no choice in this, so don't give them grief over it."

"…Fine, I get it," Naruto grumbled, crossing his arms and pouting childishly. "It just sucks that they can't stay, that's all I'm saying."

Hiashi fluidly rose to his feet. "We'll be back soon enough, I'm sure," he said with a faint smirk before the expression on his face returned to its usual severe frown. "I expect your drawing skills to have improved by the next time we train, Uzumaki-san. Stick figures and smiley faces are _not_ an acceptable means of portraiture."

"Sure, rub it in that I suck, why don't ya?" Naruto groused, though he soon grinned again as he stood up and bowed deeply to Hiashi, remembering his lessons on etiquette with the strict clan heir. "Many thanks, Hyūga-dono."

Hiashi nodded in acknowledgement. "You're welcome. Until we meet again, Uzumaki-san, Ryokousha-dono."

"See ya around," the old traveller said cheerfully, waving with his mangled hand.

After Hinata bade the odd pair of student and mentor goodbye, father and daughter began to make their way home. They stopped abruptly when Hiashi heard Tabibito call out after them. "Hang on, you two! Oi, brat! Aren't you forgetting something!?"

"Oh, shoot, I did! Wait for me, Hiashi-san, Hinata-chan!"

Hiashi heard the patter of small feet behind him, and they turned around to see Naruto skid short before them. He looked unusually nervous, fidgeting as he stood there. "…You know that the Autumn Festival is coming up soon, right?"

"I was aware that one of the year's most important celebrations is approaching, yes," Hiashi said drily, Hinata smothering a small laugh. "The preparations all over the village were a bit of clue, I think."

"Oh, you're a funny guy," Naruto grumbled. "…Okay, how do you guys usually celebrate the festival?"

Hiashi frowned. "We don't."

Naruto looked up, looking surprised. "Really? Why not?"

Hinata felt her father's hand clench around hers. "Because nearly seven years ago," he said quietly, "the Nine-Tails attacked Konoha on the eve of the festival. We lost many friends and family that night. For the Hyūga clan, the Autumn Festival is a day of mourning."

Naruto looked horrified and embarrassed. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't blame yourself!" Hiashi said sharply. "You are _not_ the demon. Neither I nor Hinata blame you for what happened that night."

"You're no demon, Naruto-kun," Hinata spoke up softly, her expression full of compassion as she looked at her friend. "Don't feel bad for something you couldn't ever control."

Naruto smiled at them, blue eyes relieved. "I'm glad," he said quietly, crossing his arms and frowning. "Still, that means you've never been to the festival before, doesn't it, Hinata-chan?"

Hinata simply gave him a mute nod while her father wondered where the young child was going with this.

"See, my birthday is on the thirty-first of October, the day of the festival," Naruto began, gesticulating with wild enthusiasm and grinning again. "And Hōshi-san – that's the owner of the place where Uncle Tabi and I live, by the way – told me it would be okay to have a celebration at the Dancing Dragon, and he told me to invite my friends and stuff!"

Hiashi's eyebrows rose. "So we're your friends?"

"Sure! I mean, you both teach me cool tricks and train with me and we have fun together! Isn't that what friends do?"

_I wasn't aware that repeatedly giving me a migraine fell under Naruto's definition of 'fun'_, Hiashi thought as he glanced at the sky in quiet supplication. _Still…_

"It'd be really cool if you could come," Naruto said, shuffling his feet nervously and not meeting their eyes. "You know, I've never had a real birthday party with friends before, so… It'll be fun, I promise! There'll be cake, I think!"

"Uzumaki Naruto," Hiashi said with mock severity, glaring. "Are you trying to _bribe_ me and my daughter into coming to your birthday party with _cake_?"

Naruto grinned up at him. "Shinobi, remember? It was worth a try!"

Hiashi hummed to himself, turning to his daughter with a speculative look. "What do you think, Hinata?"

"I've never been invited to a birthday party before," Hinata said, smiling shyly at him. "I'd love to go."

Again, Hiashi's smile faltered as he was reminded not for the last time that in his attempt to strengthen his daughter, he had more often than not robbed her of childhood's little pleasures. And if they really decided to visit the red light district during the Autumn Festival, then there would be security concerns, and trouble with pickpockets and muggers and drunken revellers, and—

To hell with it, he decided.

Hiashi laughed quietly before nudging his daughter. "It looks like we'll be breaking tradition this year, Hinata." He turned to an expectant Naruto and bowed. "It would be a pleasure to attend your celebration, Uzumaki-san."

"That's great!" Naruto cheered, pumping his fist in the air and grinning like a maniac. "We'll have music and food and drinks and talk and chat and play games, and it's gonna be a lot of fun!"

"I'm sure it'll be fun for you," Hiashi said under his breath, rolling his eyes. "Whether I will survive you being high on excitement and on a sugar rush, though, is another story altogether."

Naruto stopped jumping, frowning at Hiashi. "You're a really grouchy person, you know that, Hiashi-dono?"

"No, I have _gravitas_," Hiashi corrected primly. "That's entirely different."

"Yeah, sure, hide behind your big fancy words," Naruto muttered, grinning all the while. "See you soon, Hiashi-dono, Hinata-chan! And thank you very much!"

"Have a good day, Uzumaki-san." "Bye, Naruto-kun!"

Naruto grinned and waved until the two had disappeared into the forest of the training ground, and only when he could no longer see them did he turn around and walk back towards the old traveller sitting under the tree.

"Now, why are you thinking so hard?" Tabibito asked without looking up from his lute.

"Huh?"

"Your forehead's got more wrinkles than mine, and that means something! The thoughtful look on your face doesn't suit you at all, you know."

"Oh, screw you, old man."

"No, thanks." Tabibito glanced at his student who plopped himself down on the ground, grabbing up his pencil and rough sketches. "…So, are they coming to your birthday party or not?"

"They are."

"Well, what were you so worried about, then?" the old musician asked, exasperated. "Look, they are both good friends – that's why you wanted to invite them, right?"

Naruto smiled fondly. "Yeah, that was one reason."

"So what was the other one?"

Naruto hesitated for a moment before the words suddenly spilled out of him. "Because they're not afraid of my eyes!"

Tabibito stopped playing, his grey eyes locking with the blue slit ones of Naruto, and he could see the tremendous amount of relief and happiness in them. Tabibito smiled at him before returning his attention back to his instrument, humming another melody under his breath.

Ever since that incident where Tabibito had been forced to rework and adapt the containment seal that held the Nine-Tails in Naruto's body, the boy's eyes had permanently changed. They still had the sky-blue colour that he had apparently inherited from his father, but the vertical, fox-like slits his pupils had turned into had thrown quite a few people off. Once the novelty of the new eyes had worn off, even Naruto became jittery and nervous about how his friends would react.

Iruka and Mizuki had been thoroughly disturbed and scared, though the chūnin had quickly reassured Naruto that he still considered him his little brother. The Hokage had taken the whole incident in remarkable stride, but not after meticulously checking the modified seal for anomalies and finding none. The girls at the Dancing Dragon had been perturbed by the sudden change in the appearance of their neighbour and little friend, but once Hōshi had remarked that he'd seen weirder things in his career as a ninja, they soon returned to their usual kind selves.

The only ones who were merely surprised and not terrified or uneasy when they looked Naruto in the eye for the first time were Hiashi and Hinata. When the young jinchūriki had meekly asked why it didn't bother them, Hiashi had given him an answer that he had trouble forgetting. Not that he wanted to.

'_We know what's like to be hated, envied, and reviled because of our eyes. It only changes you as a person if you _let_ it.'_

Tabibito smiled to himself as he watched Naruto draw on his scroll. A little bit of outside perspective and genuine empathy could work wonders.

The old man strummed the strings of his lute and winced as a sudden pain lanced through his mangled right hand. He hissed, clenching the remaining fingers tightly into a fist and simply waiting until the pain dulled and finally disappeared.

He slowly opened his scarred hand, sighing deeply when he saw that they would be unresponsive for a while. _Again_.

"Are you okay, Uncle Tabi?" Naruto asked worriedly, blue eyes flashing with concern.

"Yeah," the old man grunted. "Phantom pains. I'm still trying to convince this stupid brain of mine that there are only three fingers left on this hand, not five. Pain in the ass."

"You can always go back to Kiyoshi-sensei if it hurts, you know. He said you could."

"Fat lot of good that'll do." He rolled his eyes at Naruto's look of concern. "Look, brat, I'm not hurt! It's just that I've had five fingers on this hand for so long that my brain is playing tricks on me." He glared at the mutilated limb at the end of his arm with a look that was half resignation and half loathing. "It's just tedious and inconvenient relearning how to do everything like before, that's all."

Naruto grinned at him, unwilling to be kept down for long. "Well, if you ever have any trouble, you can always ask me for help!"

Tabibito chuckled, ruffling the child's hair and making Naruto scowl. "Sure, ask the resident knucklehead for help; that'll turn out well."

"Uncle!" Naruto whined, struggling to shake off the hand on his head. "You know I hate that!"

"I know, I know, that's why I do it!"

Naruto finally managed to get out of reach, clutching his head from the noogie he'd received and glaring at his teacher. "Hands off the hair, old man!"

"Heh," Tabibito chuckled, leaning back against the tree trunk and grinning. "Fair enough."

"You're a jerk," Naruto groused as he put his headband back in place, muttering rebelliously under his breath all the while.

"Hey, kiddo."

"What?!"

"Thanks," Tabibito said, smiling fondly. "It really means a lot to me, you know, helping me all the time and putting up with my stupid crap. I appreciate it."

Naruto blinked and studied his teacher with a careful squint to make sure that his leg wasn't being pulled (again), but he grinned happily when he saw the sincere smile. "No problem, old man! I promised I'd get strong enough to protect you, remember?"

Tabibito raised an eyebrow, looking his student up and down. "You still got a long way to go if you want to protect _me_ from anyone, brat."

"So not true!" Naruto yelled in outrage. "I'm sure I could kick your ass all over this training ground if I wanted!"

"Well, we'll see about that once you've managed to get the Leaf Dance right, okay?"

"Aw, man," Naruto complained. "That exercise sucks balls, old man!"

"Language! Now you'll have to do it perfectly three times in a row, young man! And hop to it!"

"You suck!" Naruto called over his shoulder as he walked off to gather the leaves necessary for the chakra exercise. Tabibito just cackled in sadistic glee after him.

Soon, the clearing in the Third Training Ground was quiet except for the sound of the wind blowing through the trees, the leaves fluttering and dancing in the breeze, and the quiet strings of notes humming through the air as Tabibito played an old song he'd heard a long time ago.

Once, however, the old musician looked up and peered intently into the treeline, feeling as if someone was watching him, but then dismissed it as his decades' worth of paranoia acting up again.

Still, he couldn't help but feel that there was something… _strange_ in the air, something important that he was missing.

He chuckled to himself. Spirits, his brain sure was messed up these days.

…

_**Ancestors' Shrine, Uchiha Clan District, Konoha  
One Week before the Autumn Festival**_

In the old temple at the very centre of the hidden village's Uchiha Clan District, a strange group found itself gathering in a small hidden room, men and women trickling in one by one in the darkness of the night.

They all arrived to see the dark-haired figure of Fugaku Uchiha sitting before the shrine to the venerable ancestors of the Uchiha clan, legs crossed and eyes closed in quiet meditation. They soon took their seat in a circle around him, waiting in hushed silence until they were all assembled.

Fugaku's black eyes snapped open once the last member to be expected entered the room in complete silence, frowning deeply at the tardy arrival. "You're late, Itachi."

"My apologies, Father," the teenager's voice carried softly through the gloomy chamber as the young Uchiha took his place to his father's right. "Hokage-sama demanded a late report and debriefing on my last mission."

"Don't call him that!" another clansman spat out, his face twisting in a sneer. "He doesn't deserve that title!"

Fugaku held up a hand, glaring sternly at his cousin. "Control yourself, Setsuna. This is _not_ the time to squabble over trivialities."

"Trivialities, you call them?" Setsuna muttered venomously, shooting Itachi a dark look full of rancour. "A title implies _respect_. A title implies _legitimacy_. That damned student of the Senju sitting in the Tower has _none_ of these things in my eyes."

There were a few grunts of assent and muttered 'Hear, hears' in the gathered circle, but they quickly died out when Fugaku's eyes turned a bloody red.

"I said," the clan head said slowly and dangerously, "that this is _not_ the time to squabble over trivialities. Do I need to repeat myself once more, Setsuna?"

For a moment, his cousin held his bloody glare, but he soon glanced away, bowing deeply until his forehead touched the floor. "No, you don't," he said quietly and reluctantly. "Forgive my impudence, Fugaku-sama. I won't speak out of turn again."

Fugaku's eyes bled back to their usual black, and he nodded, dismissing the matter. "Good. Now," he addressed Shisui sitting at the other end of their circle, "do you have it?"

"Yes, Fugaku-sama. Allow me."

With a quick hand seal, the young shinobi unsealed a larger scroll from his backpack, unrolling a large map of Konoha. Differently coloured lines criss-crossed it in various directions, and the assembled members of the Uchiha clan leant forwards in anticipation.

"This," Shisui explained quietly, "are the patrol routes of the various ANBU battalions ordered to guard the village during the festival, along with those of the Military Police and the Homes Guard. There are various timely gaps," he pointed out a few areas, "which a moderately-sized group can slip through, evading the guards and checkpoints."

Fagaku grunted, thumbing his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Were any precautions made in case of a large-scale attack?"

"ANBU Special Response Teams Alpha and Epsilon are in place and ready to move out at a moment's notice," Itachi said softly. "However, they are to deploy only on the Hokage's orders and no one else's."

Fugaku frowned. "So if the Hokage is indisposed…"

"Then the teams won't deploy, yes."

"That's easily dealt with, then." Fugaku peered intently at his son, who stared blankly at the map before him. "Are there any other precautions in case of a disturbance during the Autumn Festival?"

"Five battalions of genin and chūnin squads were held back in reserve and garrisoned at specific points in the city to work crowd control," Shisui interrupted, his voice cold and dispassionate. "They are far apart, however. If we cut communications and sow confusion, they should be easily dealt with."

"They're nothing more than genin and chūnin with a few specialists mixed in," another voice scoffed. "How difficult would it be for us to slaughter them all?"

"Peace, Tekka," Fugaku chided sternly. "It would be easy and possible, yes, but it would take far too long. And time is something we simply don't have." He looked again at the map, his dark eyes hardening to flint. "We only have the festival as our window of opportunity, what with all the revellers filling the streets and the shinobi letting down their guard for the festivities. We need to act quickly and decisively while they are distracted."

"What about the garrisons in the cities surrounding Konoha?" another voice asked sharply. "Will they be able to intervene?"

Itachi shook his head. "If all goes according to plan and we manage to cut communications to the outside world, then the whole affair will be over before they realized what has happened. Besides, most of the village's shinobi are spread through the Land of Fire on various duties. There's no need to fret, Yakumi-san."

"Says the Hokage's lapdog, of course…"

"_Enough!_" Fugaku snapped, his voice cracking like a whip. Silence reigned as he glared at the cruelly-eyed man with his dark hair done up in a topknot before looking every single one of the assembled clansmen in the eye.

"Itachi is my _son_," he reminded them all. "And he has proved himself and his loyalty to our cause a hundred times over! Remember what our great ancestor said?"

"Blood runs thicker than water," they muttered in chorus.

"That's right. _Blood_. It's our blood that has granted us our skills, our gifts, our _power_. The power that the Senju have denied us, and that we will reclaim a week from now! We need to stand united and strong, not doubt and belittle each other! Do you want us to succeed or fail?"

The silence that greeted his question was answer enough. Fugaku nodded sharply. "You seem to understand, then. Good. Now, let's reiterate each of your parts in the overall plan. Setsuna?"

The spiky-haired man closed his eyes, reciting the part from memory. "I am to infiltrate the Konoha General Hospital and take control of its resources and personnel. Once I have sealed off the building, we can use the patients as hostages or start a secondary assassination attempt on the target should the primary group," and here his eyes opened to shoot Itachi a venomous look, which the blank-faced teenager studiously ignored, "fail in its endeavour."

Yakumi frowned, tapping his temple as his cruel eyes peered at the map, his other hand tracing his relative position in Konoha. "…I am to gather loyal Military Police shinobi and our clansmen to storm the Hokage Tower once I have received the signal to strike. As soon as we have secured the structure under the pretence of emergency martial law, we are to take control of communications to sow chaos in the Loyalist ranks. We can possibly put some pressure on the Advisory Council too…"

And so it continued. Each person assembled in the shrine tonight led his or her own group of Uchiha loyal to their dream of superiority, and each of them had a very specific target or goal.

One was to hit the village's bank and bullion reserves to seize the assets there and gain a stronger post-facto negotiation position. Another would direct several smaller squads of arsonists that would set several districts of the city ablaze to tie up possible defenders in rescue operations. A few others were to secure the village gates to control that left and entered. Another was to attack the Sensor Division's headquarters to cripple the Hokage's troops' ability to communicate and coordinate. A few others would use hit-and-run tactics in the dense urban environment to harass and slow down responding defenders.

"Tekka, Inabi, Yashiro," Fugaku said out loud. "You three will enter the red light district with your group. You are to take the jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails into 'protective custody.'"

The three men exchanged glances, looking honestly worried. "Isn't that dangerous?" Inabi questioned tensely. "I mean, he _is_ a monster, isn't he?"

Fugaku snorted derisively. "There's no need to worry. He's still only a child, after all, with no control over his beast." Fugaku's lips twisted into a smirk. "And considering that the little demon will be celebrating his _birthday_," and here there were small laughs of amusement and disbelief from his captive audience, "I'm sure you'll find a hostage or two he cares about to ensure his cooperation. Once the Council knows we have their prized weapon under our thumb, they'll be more than happy to listen to our demands."

The assembled men and women nodded, and the three designated kidnappers exchanged relieved smiles and self-satisfied smirks.

Now, there were only two people left who hadn't stated their duties.

"Itachi, Shisui," Fugaku barked out. "What is your part of the plan?"

The two distant cousins, closer than any brothers had ever been, locked eyes before turning to face their clan head and speaking in unison.

"We will kill the Hokage."

…

_**Unspecified Location, Underground Tunnel System, Konoha  
Later that evening**_

Soon after the secret meeting at the Uchiha Shrine had disbanded, a masked figure walked through the twisting maze of the hidden village's underground tunnel system until it finally reached the classified underground base, being immediately led into the office at its very centre.

The figure stepped into the office, bowing deeply to the elder seated at the desk in the room illuminated by a warm fireplace. "_Leader_."

Danzō Shimura barely glanced up from the paperwork on his desk. "Report."

His subordinate did so in a quick, efficient, and utterly dispassionate manner. At the end of the report, Danzō had abandoned all efforts at pretending not to pay attention. The skin around his uncovered eye was crinkled in a harsh frown, and he thoughtfully drummed his aged fingers on the hard surface of his desk.

"Call together the cell leaders of all local assets for an immediate mission briefing," he finally instructed, laboriously getting to his feet and reaching out for his cane. "We have a lot of work to do, and none of it pleasant."

_As if _that_ ever was a surprise, _Danzō thought drily.

The ninja saluted, his voice distorted and warbling. "_Yessir. At once_."

As soon as he was gone, Danzō sighed, taking one last look at the framed photograph on his desk. It showed a group of three young men and a woman, all of them wearing forehead protectors and armed to the teeth, and all of them looking at the camera with expressions of varying seriousness.

Danzō looked at the faded picture, smiling faintly as he remembered better times, easier times, before schooling his expression back into the blank, uncaring mask of the leader of ANBU Special Task Force ROOT (codenamed the 'Foundation'), leaving his office to brief his subordinates on the upcoming threat.

He would protect his beloved village – no matter what it would cost him, no matter what it would mean for his soul, no matter whether it meant committing the most unspeakable of crimes or bathe the entire world in blood.

Leaves in the sun, and roots in the darkness. He would do what his best friend never could.

…

_**Hokage Tower, Konoha  
Eve of the Autumn Festival**_

Hiruzen Sarutobi, Third Hokage of the Village Hidden in the Leaves, stood at the window of his office and took in the sight of his beloved village sprawling out before him, the coloured festival lanterns glowing in the darkness forming a beautiful tapestry of light and darkness stretching out for miles on end.

The Hokage smiled faintly at the sight. It was a spectacle that he had never quite lost his fascination for, no matter how many times he had seen it come and go in his years as the village's ruler. It reminded him of happier times, when his wife was still alive and his three rambunctious students still home.

The Hokage's smile slowly disappeared, and he sighed, raising a cup of saké to the winds. "To you, Konoha," he whispered quietly. "Enjoy this peace, this happiness, while it still lasts."

He emptied the cup, hurling it out the window and bracing himself on the windowsill, eyes closing in grief. "And forgive me for condemning you to bloodshed once more."

…

_**Northern Gate, Konoha  
Eve of the Autumn Festival**_

A cloaked man nonchalantly walked past the queue of people flocking outside the gates and clamouring to enter the hidden village for the duration of the festival. The harried guards never noticed him saunter past, but neither did the sharp-eyed ANBU platoon stationed there. He moved like a ghost – when they were questioned later, none of the guards would be able to recall him having ever crossed the threshold into the village.

As soon as he entered Konoha's winding streets thronged with people, that man suddenly paused, tilting his head as if he was listening to a song only he could hear.

"Hmm," the figure whispered to itself. "Interesting. _Very_ interesting. So the host is still here in the village, then? How odd, how strange, how very much fascinating!"

The cloaked figure tapped the side of its head in thought, a red light beginning to gleam through the single eyehole of the swirling mask that passed for its face.

"Perhaps I should pay him a visit…"

…

**Ch'ang-an** (Chinese: 长安 or 長安; alternatively written in the West as _**Cháng'ān**__ or __**Chang'an**__)_was the imperial capital for over ten different Chinese dynasties. It is located in Central China and is today known as **Xi'an **(西安), capital of the modern Shaanxi province. It is part of the historical "Four Great Capitals of China", alongside Nanjing, Luoyang, and Beijing.

The weapon that Chiriku wirlds is a so-called **Khakkhara**, a Sankrit term meaning 'sounding staff' in English. In Japan, it is called a **shakujō**. It is the traditional staff carried by Buddhist monks and is primarily used in prayer, though a few other uses – such as a self-defence combat style of the Shaolin monks – have cropped up in China and elsewhere over the centuries. The various rings adorning the khakkhara are used to both warn away small animals from being crushed by a passing monk, while the sound of the rings also alert the Buddhist faithful to the presence of a monk in need of alms. Occasionally, travelling monks used them to beat the stuffing out of larger animals threatening to eat them.

The phrase spoken by the Emperor ("Truly, we live in interesting times.") is derived from the apparently traditional Chinese saying "**May you live in interesting times.**" Its exact nature (whether it is a blessing or a curse) is unclear and its exact origins are not documented before 1936, which have led some to believe that it is a Western invention. However, both evidence to the contrary and supporting it is scarce.

…

The original manga series of _Naruto _was written and drawn by _Masashi Kishimoto_, originally published by _Shueisha_ in 1997, and is still ongoing at the time of writing (May 2012) after sixty published volumes and two different anime adaptations: one simply titled _Naruto_ by _Studio Perrot_ that premiered in October 2002 and ended in February 2007, and its sequel _Naruto: Shipuuden_ (Naruto: Hurricane Chronicles) by the same studio that premiered in February 2008 and is still ongoing at the time of writing. Various tie-in works like novels, video games, and a series of theatrical movies have been published to date.

Again, please support the official release, and be kind enough to leave a review.


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Naruto, Adventure, Drama