As Natsu walked through the cold snow, the flakes softly crunching under his feet, his mind drifted, carried away by the icy winds. The cold air stung his cheeks, numbing his skin, but it was a welcome reprieve from the suffocating atmosphere of the orphanage. There, every moment felt like a fight for breath, a constant struggle against the cruelty that lingered in the walls. Out here, in the biting cold, he could think, he could feel, even if what he felt was a painful emptiness. For hours, he wandered aimlessly through the snowy streets, his thoughts swirling, lost in the quiet that surrounded him.
Then he heard it—a faint sound carried by the wind.
It was the soft, broken sound of someone crying.
The sound tugged at something deep inside him, something he couldn't quite place, but it drew him forward, pulling him through the snow-covered streets. As the cry grew louder, his heart began to race, each step quickening with a sense of urgency he didn't fully understand. Why did this sound feel so familiar? Why did it make his chest tighten in that same way, like a sadness he had long buried was suddenly rising to the surface? As he rounded a corner, he saw her.
Hinata Hyuga, a small, trembling figure, no more than three years old, sat in the snow with her face buried in her tiny hands. Her sobs echoed softly in the cold, and for a moment, Natsu froze. He had heard about her, about the shy girl who had admired Naruto from afar, the girl Naruto had once saved when they were young. But seeing her like this, so small and so vulnerable, something inside him stirred. A deep, aching sadness filled his heart.
Natsu's heart seemed to skip a beat. Why did it hurt him so much to see her like this? Why did her soft sobs make his chest feel so heavy, as if he were carrying an unbearable weight? He didn't know why, but the sight of her crying—so fragile and lost—struck something deep within him, something he couldn't ignore. It reminded him of a time when he had once been in the same position, crying for help no one heard. Without thinking, he moved toward her, his feet carrying him instinctively, driven by the need to do something, anything.
He knelt down beside her, the snow crunching under his knees. "Why are you crying?" he asked gently, though his own heart trembled with emotion. The question was simple, but inside, he felt a rush of concern, a desire to protect her from whatever pain she was feeling. Why did it matter so much? Why did her sadness hit him so hard, like he was feeling it with her?
Hinata tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Her sobs were too strong, her tiny body shaking as she struggled to breathe between the tears. The sight of her like this, so overwhelmed by fear and cold, tore at Natsu's heart. It was too familiar—too much like the nights he had comforted his own sisters, wiping away their tears as they cried, scared and lost. He couldn't stand to see her like this.
Instinctively, he reached out, gently placing his hand on her small shoulder. "It's okay," he whispered, his voice soft, almost as if he were comforting his own sister again. "Here, hold my hand tight. It'll calm you down, I promise." The words came naturally, but inside, he felt the weight of emotions he couldn't fully explain. Why did it hurt so much to see her like this?
Hinata blinked up at him through her tear-filled eyes, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold. Something in Natsu's gentle tone seemed to reach her, and for a moment, her sobs slowed. She shyly reached out, taking his hand in her own small, trembling one, gripping it tightly as though he were her lifeline. Her face turned a light shade of red as she held on, but for the first time since he had found her, she seemed calmer.
After a few moments, she finally managed to speak, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I… I'm lost," she said, her words shaky and fragile. "I want to go home."
Natsu smiled at her, a smile that felt bittersweet, like the kind he used to give his sisters when they were frightened. He knew that feeling all too well, the feeling of being lost, of wanting to go home to a place that felt safe. "Well," he said softly, "I don't know where you live, but we'll walk around until we find your house. Don't worry, I'll stay with you, okay?"
Hinata nodded gently, still holding onto his hand as they both stood. Her vulnerability hit him harder than he expected, like a piece of himself had connected with hers. He carefully wiped the tears from her cheeks with his other hand, his heart warming at the way she looked at him, so innocent, so trusting. And yet, deep inside, a sadness lingered, something he couldn't quite shake.
As they walked through the snowy streets, time passed quietly, but Natsu's mind was far from silent. He couldn't stop thinking about the way Hinata had cried, how small and fragile she seemed. It stirred something in him—a deep sadness that he couldn't explain, a sadness that had nothing to do with the snow or the cold. It was a feeling that came from somewhere deeper, somewhere connected to the past, to stories he had heard but never fully understood.
An hour later, they arrived at Hinata's home, a large, imposing house that stood in stark contrast to the snowy streets. Natsu expected her to run inside, to feel relief at finally being home, but instead, she hesitated at the gate, her hand still gripping his like she didn't want to let go.
Why was she sad? She had a home to return to, a family waiting for her. Yet, there was a look in her eyes—a sadness that reflected his own. He knelt beside her again, offering her a soft smile, though his own heart felt heavy. "You know," he said gently, "I don't understand why someone like you would be crying. You have someone waiting for you at home, someone who cares for you. Be proud of that. You should be happy."
Hinata looked at him with wide, tearful eyes, and his words seemed to strike something deep within her. She blushed softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you…" The sincerity in her voice made Natsu's heart ache even more. She gave him a small smile, a smile full of warmth despite the sadness that still lingered in her eyes. Slowly, she turned and walked toward her front door.
As the gate closed behind her.
As Natsu knelt in the snow, the world around him seemed to dissolve into the background. The biting cold of the wind no longer mattered, nor did the sting of the icy flakes clinging to his skin. All that was left was the overwhelming wave of emotion crashing through him, drowning him in a sea of sadness so deep it felt like he was suffocating under the weight of it. His chest burned with the effort to breathe between sobs, and his hands clung desperately to the scarf around his neck, as though it could somehow keep him from falling apart.
But it couldn't. Nothing could stop the pain.
The tears that streamed down his face were hot against the freezing air, but they did nothing to release the suffocating ache lodged deep in his chest. The moment Hinata had walked through the gate and disappeared from sight, something inside him had shattered so completely, it felt irreparable. He had collapsed into the snow, his knees giving out as if the ground beneath him was the only thing that could catch the pieces of his breaking heart.
But why? Why did it hurt so much?
It was a pain that defied explanation, a hurt that twisted inside him like a knife, and it wouldn't stop no matter how many tears he shed. Seeing her small, fragile form in the snow, her soft cries breaking through the stillness of the air, had been enough to unravel him completely. His sobs were uncontrollable, ragged, tearing from his throat in a way that felt raw, primal, as though the sadness came from somewhere deeper than just this moment.
As he knelt there, struggling to breathe, trying to make sense of why his heart was in so much agony, the memories of Naruto began to resurface, one after another, bombarding him in a relentless wave of emotion. Memories that weren't even his own, but somehow, they were. They felt so real, so visceral, as if he had lived through every single one of them.
And then, it all started to make sense.
Naruto hadn't just saved Hinata that day in the snow when they were children. No, it wasn't about that at all. It had been about Naruto, too. That day, Naruto had been at the end of his rope, his spirit crushed by the endless loneliness, the rejection, the pain of being shunned by the very people he wanted to protect. He had been broken, his hope dangling by a thread.
But in saving Hinata, something had changed. Hinata had saved him.
Natsu's chest tightened, his sobs growing louder, more desperate as he gripped the scarf even tighter. It wasn't about Naruto being a hero—it was about how Hinata had unknowingly become his light in that moment. She had been the one to give him a reason to keep going, a reason to push forward, to keep fighting when everything else had tried to break him. Her silent gratitude, the way she had looked at him with eyes full of admiration and belief—it had been enough to pull Naruto back from the edge when he had been ready to give up on everything.
The realization was a crushing weight, pressing down on Natsu's heart until it felt like he couldn't breathe. Naruto hadn't just saved Hinata that day—Hinata had saved Naruto. She had become his hope, his reason to believe in tomorrow when he had none left for himself.
And it wasn't just that one time.
Natsu's sobs deepened as another memory forced its way to the surface—the Chūnin Exams, when Naruto had been forced to fight Kiba. Naruto had been so tired, his chakra out of control because of the seal, and he had felt like there was no point in even trying. No one had believed in him. No one had cheered for him. Except for one person.
Hinata.
Her voice had been soft, barely a whisper, but in that moment, it had been enough. She had been the only one to believe in him. The only one who had cheered for him when everyone else had written him off. And that had been enough to give Naruto the strength to stand up, to fight, to prove that he wasn't someone who could be overlooked. Hinata had given him that strength. She had always believed in him, even when no one else did.
Natsu cried harder, the tears pouring down his cheeks in a torrent. Hinata had always been there, always pulling Naruto back from the brink, even when she didn't know it. She had been his constant light, guiding him when he felt lost in the darkness.
Then came the memory of Neji's brutal attack on Hinata. Natsu could feel the pain Naruto had felt watching from the sidelines, his heart twisting as Neji's cruel words cut deep, both physically and emotionally. Naruto had been powerless to stop it, forced to watch as Hinata stood up to someone she had seen as a brother, someone she had wanted to save from his own pain. And when Neji had broken her, when she had collapsed in a pool of her own blood, Naruto's heart had shattered.
He had knelt beside her, taken her blood in his hand, and vowed that Neji would pay. But it hadn't been out of anger or hatred—it had been because Naruto had loved and respected Hinata in a way that went beyond words. She had fought for him—and now, it was his turn to fight for her.
Natsu's sobs became more frantic as the memories flooded in, each one more painful than the last. Hinata had always been the one to believe in Naruto, the one who saw him when no one else did. And Naruto had cherished that more than anything. She had become his reason to fight, his reason to protect the people he loved.
And then came Pain. That awful moment when Naruto had been crushed into the ground, unable to move, unable to fight back. No one had come to his aid. Everyone had been too afraid, too paralyzed by fear. But Hinata—Hinata had stepped forward. She had stood up, even though she knew she would die, and faced Pain with everything she had. She had risked everything to protect Naruto. And when she had fallen, Naruto's grief had been too much to bear. His control had slipped, and the Nine-Tails had been unleashed, born out of his pain and rage.
Hinata had been his light, even in that moment of darkness. She had been the one to push him forward, to give him the strength to keep going when everything else had tried to drag him down.
Natsu could barely breathe through his sobs as he thought about Obito's attempt to break Naruto. Naruto had been so tired, so close to giving in, so close to joining Obito's side and letting go of everything he had fought for. The weight of the world had been crushing him—but once again, it had been Hinata who had pulled him back. She had reminded him of who he was, of the people who believed in him, and she had given him the strength to stand tall, to fight back, to stay true to himself.
Natsu cried harder, the tears coming in hot, desperate streams. It had always been Hinata. She had always been the one to save Naruto, time and time again, pulling him back from the edge, reminding him of who he was and what he stood for. She had been his light in the darkness, the one who had never given up on him, even when he had been ready to give up on himself.
Through his sobs, Natsu whispered, "I understand now, Naruto… I understand why you never gave up."
And with that realization, the weight of everything seemed to press down on Natsu's heart, crushing him, yet somehow lifting him up at the same time. Naruto hadn't saved Hinata—Hinata had saved Naruto. She had been his light, his hope, his reason to keep fighting. And now, Natsu understood.
With trembling hands, Natsu wiped his tears, though they kept falling, unrelenting. But as he stood, the cold biting at his skin, his heart felt lighter, even though the pain still lingered. He wouldn't let Naruto's legacy be forgotten. He wouldn't let the pain of the past destroy him. He would keep moving forward, just like Naruto had.
And just like Naruto, Hinata would be his light in the dark.
For Naruto. For Hinata. For the hope that had saved them both.
As Natsu trudged through the forest, his breath forming small clouds in the freezing air, he remained unaware that he had crossed into forbidden territory. The forest was cloaked in a barrier—an invisible wall of chakra meant to ward off intruders. It was the Uchiha clan's training grounds, a place where only the most skilled of their clan came to hone their abilities. But Natsu, lost in his thoughts and driven by a deep sense of purpose, had unknowingly walked right into it.
The moment he crossed the barrier, the air felt thicker, more oppressive, though Natsu didn't notice at first. His mind was consumed with thoughts of Naruto and the stories of the Uzumaki clan, the power that might be lying dormant within him. He knew he had to push himself, had to unlock something deeper, something more than what he had been tapping into so far.
The snow fell softly around him, and the trees seemed to grow denser as he walked. He followed the sound of rushing water, a waterfall hidden somewhere deep within the forest. As he walked, the cold gnawed at his skin, but it felt better than being back at the orphanage. Here, in the solitude of the forest, Natsu felt like he could breathe—like he could finally train without the weight of the cruel world pressing down on him.
But something was off. Though he couldn't put his finger on it, there was an unsettling energy in the air. The chakra that flowed through the forest felt... different. Stronger, heavier. It pressed down on him like an unseen hand, but Natsu, caught up in his determination, barely registered it.
When he finally reached the waterfall, he stood at the edge, gazing up at the cascade of water crashing into the pool below. The mist from the waterfall mixed with the falling snow, creating a hazy, almost dreamlike scene. But Natsu wasn't here to admire the beauty of the place. He was here to awaken something within him, to prove that he was more than the weak boy the orphanage saw him as.
He recalled the stories he had heard about the Uzumaki clan. One ability stood out in his mind—the Mind's Eye of the Kagura. It was said that the clan members could sense chakra from incredible distances, detecting emotions and even tracking enemies through their chakra signatures. But more than that, it was an ability that allowed them to understand the world in a way no one else could—a heightened awareness, a connection to the flow of energy around them.
Natsu felt a spark of hope. If he could awaken the Mind's Eye of the Kagura, he wouldn't just be a boy struggling to survive—he would be someone with power, someone who could protect himself and others.
Driven by this thought, he stepped into the freezing pool of water at the base of the waterfall. The cold was immediate and brutal, wrapping around him like icy chains. He bit back a gasp as the water bit into his skin, but he forced himself to stay calm. He had to endure this. He had to push himself past his limits.
The roar of the waterfall drowned out all other sounds, and the mist obscured his vision. The cold numbed his body, making it hard to concentrate, but Natsu closed his eyes and focused. He had to reach for his chakra, to connect with it in a way he never had before.
But the cold was relentless. It seeped into his bones, numbing his fingers, his toes, his very thoughts. His chakra felt sluggish, as if it was being drowned by the freezing water and the overwhelming roar of the waterfall. His body shook violently, and his mind began to scatter.
"Come on…" he muttered through chattering teeth. "Focus…"
Natsu clenched his fists, trying to calm his breathing, but every inhale felt like shards of ice cutting into his lungs. It wasn't working. No matter how hard he tried to center himself, the cold and the noise overwhelmed him. His chakra refused to respond, slipping away from his control like water through his fingers.
But he didn't stop. He couldn't. If Naruto could push through the impossible, so could he.
Minutes dragged by, and Natsu's body began to tremble uncontrollably. His legs felt weak, and he could barely keep himself upright in the water. The cold was numbing his mind, making it harder to concentrate on anything but the biting pain. His frustration grew, and with it, his desperation.
He knew he was close—he could feel it. There was a connection somewhere in the chaos, just out of reach. He could almost sense it, the faint pulse of chakra in the trees, in the water, in the air around him. But every time he reached for it, it slipped away.
His breath came in ragged gasps, and his vision blurred, spots of black dancing at the edges of his sight. He felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him, his chakra reserves nearly depleted. But he had to keep going. He had to push through.
Suddenly, something shifted. It was subtle at first, a small flicker of awareness that cut through the haze. For a moment, the cold and the roar of the waterfall faded into the background, and Natsu could feel it—the pulse of chakra in the world around him. It was faint, like a whisper, but it was there.
His heart raced as he focused on that pulse, reaching out with his own chakra to connect with it. And as he did, the world seemed to open up around him. The chakra in the water, the trees, the snow—it was all connected, flowing like a river of energy through the forest.
Natsu's breath caught in his throat. This was it—the power he had been searching for. The Mind's Eye of the Kagura.
But just as quickly as it had come, the sensation slipped away, and the cold rushed back in with a vengeance. The roar of the waterfall grew deafening, and Natsu's chakra slipped out of his control. His legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed into the freezing water.
"No," he whispered, his voice lost in the sound of the falls. He had been so close, but now his body was reaching its limit. He couldn't hold on much longer. His muscles screamed in protest, his chakra reserves were nearly empty, and the cold was overwhelming him.
In a final act of desperation, Natsu forced himself to breathe, to calm his mind. He had to focus. He had to push past the pain. And then, in a moment of clarity, it all came rushing back—the pulse of chakra, the flow of energy through the world around him.
It was as if a door had been thrown open. The Mind's Eye of the Kagura had awakened, and Natsu could feel the world around him in a way he never had before. The chakra in the trees, the water, even the faint traces of chakra left behind by animals—it was all there, clear and vivid in his mind.
But his body couldn't keep up. The sudden rush of awareness was too much for his exhausted frame, and Natsu collapsed into the snow, the world around him fading into darkness.
Unbeknownst to him, the barrier around the Uchiha clan's training grounds pulsed faintly as it registered his presence. He had stumbled into forbidden territory, but for now, all that mattered was that he had awakened something deep within himself—something powerful. As the snow gently fell around his unconscious body, the forest held its secrets close, waiting for him to awaken again.
Mikoto Uchiha stirred awake, her sharp senses immediately alerting her to something unusual. The barrier she had placed around the Uchiha training grounds had been disturbed. It wasn't a minor shift—someone had entered, and no one outside the Uchiha clan should have been able to do that. Her heart began to race with concern, knowing that such a breach was no small thing.
Beside her, Fugaku stirred, his brows knitting together as he noticed her sudden alertness. "Is something wrong?" he mumbled, still heavy with sleep, his voice barely above a whisper.
Mikoto offered him a soft, reassuring smile, though her own mind was far from at ease. "Go back to sleep, Fugaku. I just need to check on something. I'll be fine." She leaned over and gently pressed a kiss to his forehead before slipping quietly out of bed, careful not to wake him further.
Without another word, she grabbed her sweater, threw it over her shoulders, and reached for her sword. The cool metal was familiar, grounding her as she hurried outside into the cold night. The air was sharp, biting at her skin, but Mikoto barely noticed. Her focus was entirely on the forest beyond the Uchiha compound, the place where the barrier had been breached. The barrier had been designed specifically to keep out anyone who didn't have Uchiha blood. Whoever had managed to enter was either incredibly skilled or… someone with a connection she hadn't foreseen.
As Mikoto moved swiftly through the village streets, her thoughts raced. How could anyone get through the barrier? She had set it herself, taught by one of her dearest friends, Kushina Uzumaki. The barrier was intricate, a blend of Uchiha and Uzumaki chakra techniques, meant to ensure the protection of their clan's secrets. It was nearly impossible for an outsider to bypass it.
Nearly impossible.
But as she neared the forest, her sharp instincts told her this wasn't just any intruder. There was something… familiar. Her heart clenched with an odd sense of anticipation as she reached the boundary of the training grounds. The dense trees were bathed in the cold light of the moon, the snow glittering on the ground in an eerie, peaceful silence. Yet something was different. Something tugged at her, pulling her toward the waterfall that lay deeper within.
As she approached the waterfall, Mikoto's Sharingan activated instinctively, her vision sharpening to pick up even the faintest details in the dark. And that's when she saw him.
A small figure stood at the edge of the waterfall, the mist swirling around him like a shroud. A child—no more than two or three years old—his tiny body trembling from the cold. But it wasn't just his small, fragile appearance that stopped Mikoto in her tracks. It was his hair.
Bright, vivid red hair that stood out starkly against the white of the snow. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, it felt as though time itself had stopped.
Red hair. Uzumaki hair.
Memories flooded back to her—Kushina's fiery, vibrant locks that had always matched her fierce spirit. But how could this be? Mikoto blinked, her mind racing to make sense of what she was seeing. Naruto was supposed to have blonde hair. She had only seen him from afar, but she knew, like everyone else in the village, that the son of the Fourth Hokage had inherited his father's golden locks. So why now… why did this boy's hair burn like the sun, so unmistakably Uzumaki?
Her heart clenched tighter as the truth began to dawn on her.
This boy—this fragile child—was Naruto. There was no mistaking the chakra that radiated from him, faint but unmistakable. The Kyuubi's chakra, mixed with his own. But something had changed. His red hair wasn't just a coincidence. The Uzumaki bloodline had awoken within him.
Mikoto's breath caught again, her heart aching with the realization. The stories Kushina had told her about the Uzumaki clan's bloodline came rushing back. Unlike the Uchiha, whose powers stemmed from deep emotional trauma, the Uzumaki's strength came from their sense of self-worth, from their ability to love themselves. But how? How could Naruto have possibly awakened this part of himself when he had been raised in such isolation, without the love of his parents, without anyone to guide him?
Her eyes filled with sorrow as she looked at the boy more closely. He was so small, so skinny, his clothes threadbare and barely providing any protection from the cold. His face was pale, his cheeks hollow. It looked like he hadn't had a decent meal in days—maybe even longer. And yet, here he was, standing by the waterfall that Kushina had once called the perfect place for Uzumaki training. She had always told Mikoto that the waterfall had a way of connecting her to her chakra, of helping her center herself. But this… Mikoto could tell Naruto wasn't here by choice. He was barely holding on.
Before she could move, the boy's knees buckled. His body swayed dangerously, and then, without warning, he collapsed, his small form falling limply toward the icy ground. In that instant, Mikoto's instincts kicked in, and she moved without thinking. Her body flickered forward, her Sharingan guiding her movements as she caught Naruto just before he hit the ground.
His body was cold—far too cold for a child his age—and far too light. He weighed almost nothing in her arms. As she held him close, his head resting against her chest, Mikoto's heart broke. This was Kushina's son. This child, so fragile and broken, was all that remained of her best friend. She had promised to protect him, but the village had taken that choice away from her. They had placed Naruto in the care of those who had failed him, those who had left him to fend for himself in a world that had been nothing but cruel.
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and for a moment, she allowed herself to feel the full weight of it. "Kushina," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the roar of the waterfall. "Your son… he's already so strong. But he's hurting, so much more than you ever wanted for him."
Looking down at Naruto's pale, unconscious face, Mikoto couldn't help but remember the countless times Kushina had spoken about her dreams for her son. She had wanted Naruto to grow up happy, loved, surrounded by people who cared for him. But instead, he had been left to wither away, his potential stifled by neglect, his heart hardened by the loneliness he had never deserved.
She gently brushed a few strands of his red hair away from his face, and the ache in her chest deepened. Naruto had inherited more than just Kushina's chakra—he had inherited her spirit, her strength. But how could he survive like this? How could he find the will to keep going when no one had been there to nurture him, to show him love?
As she held him, her mind wandered back to the day she had pleaded with the Third Hokage to adopt Naruto. She had wanted nothing more than to take him in, to raise him alongside her own children, to give him the love that Kushina and Minato could no longer provide. But the Third Hokage had refused, insisting that Naruto would be taken care of. Now, looking at the boy in her arms, Mikoto felt a surge of anger. This was the result of the Hokage's promise? A child who looked like he hadn't eaten in days? A boy so small and fragile that he could barely stand?
Mikoto tightened her hold on Naruto, pulling him closer to shield him from the cold. She couldn't take him back to the Uchiha compound—not yet. It would raise too many questions. But she couldn't leave him here either, not in this state. He needed warmth, food, and care.
Looking back at the waterfall, Mikoto couldn't help but cry a little, her tears mixing with the mist in the air. "You were right, Kushina," she whispered through her tears. "This waterfall is the perfect place to train. But your son… he shouldn't be training like this. He shouldn't be broken like this."
As she turned away from the waterfall, Naruto safe in her arms, Mikoto made a silent vow. She would protect him, just as Kushina would have wanted. And she would make sure that Naruto knew he was loved—that he had always been loved, even if he didn't know it.
As Mikoto approached the exit of the Uchiha training grounds, Naruto nestled safely in her arms, her sharp senses detected movement ahead. Her heart quickened. Six Uchiha shinobi were approaching, no doubt alerted by the disturbance within the forest barrier. They moved swiftly, and though they were still some distance away, Mikoto knew she couldn't simply leave without raising questions. These were skilled warriors of the clan—highly trained, and they would not be fooled easily.
She came to a stop, her Sharingan already activated, but with Naruto so fragile in her arms, she knew she needed to resolve this quickly. As the Uchiha shinobi drew closer, their eyes glinting with suspicion, she acted. In a deliberate, fluid motion, Mikoto's Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan flared to life, the intricate design of her Mangekyo spinning lazily in her eyes.
The moment they saw her eyes, the Uchiha warriors immediately halted in their tracks, their suspicion melting away in the face of undeniable proof. This was no impostor or illusion. This was Mikoto Uchiha, the head of the Uchiha clan, standing before them with a child in her arms. Their posture shifted from tension to deference as they recognized her.
The leader of the group stepped forward, his voice respectful yet confused. "Lady Mikoto, what is going on? Who is the child?"
Mikoto's gaze was sharp, but her voice remained steady and commanding. "This child is Naruto Uzumaki," she said, her tone leaving no room for questioning. "You are to spread word to the clan that from now on, I will take care of him. But there will be no public acknowledgment of his presence."
The Uchiha exchanged uneasy glances. Naruto Uzumaki, the boy they all knew to be the vessel of the Nine-Tails—this was not a simple matter. Mikoto, sensing their hesitation, narrowed her eyes. "I want you to erase all evidence of his being here. You will hide his tracks and make it look as though nothing unusual happened tonight."
She paused, her gaze falling on the two youngest Uchiha in the group, their faces still showing traces of confusion. "From this point forward, you will act as if you have been hiding a child from the Third Hokage. He will stay with you, in your home. This way, it will appear as if you have kept him under protection, far from the village's prying eyes."
The two younger Uchiha looked stunned, but they quickly regained their composure, nodding in understanding. They had been given a direct order, and they would follow it. The others followed suit, bowing low to the ground in complete deference to their clan head, fully understanding the gravity of the situation.
"I will take him to my house for now," Mikoto continued, her voice softening just slightly as she looked down at Naruto's small, exhausted form. "He needs rest and training. He cannot return to the village just yet." Her eyes hardened again as she looked back at the group. "But make no mistake—this must remain a secret. Not a word of this reaches the Hokage."
One by one, the Uchiha warriors bowed deeper, their loyalty absolute. "Yes, Lady Mikoto," they said in unison before flickering out of sight, their presence vanishing as swiftly as they had come. They would do as they were told, covering Naruto's tracks and ensuring no one outside the clan would ever know what had happened tonight.
Mikoto exhaled softly, her breath visible in the cold night air as the tension eased. But she couldn't relax, not yet. She still held the child of her dearest friend in her arms, and he was too cold, too fragile. She could feel the slight tremor in his small body, his chakra still weak, barely flickering in his unconscious state. He needed warmth, and fast.
With deliberate care, she turned and made her way back to the Uchiha compound, her thoughts heavy but her resolve unshaken. When she finally arrived at the compound, the night was still quiet, the village oblivious to what had transpired. Naruto's secret was safe for now.
Mikoto slid open the door to her bedroom quietly, careful not to disturb her sleeping husband. Fugaku was still resting, oblivious to the events of the night. She placed Naruto gently on the bed beside her, his small body barely taking up any space on the large mattress. He was shivering, and Mikoto's heart clenched painfully at the sight.
Without hesitation, she climbed into bed beside him, pulling the thick blankets over them both, cocooning Naruto in warmth. She curled herself protectively around the boy, his head resting gently against her chest, and then, softly, she pressed her lips to his forehead. "You're safe now," she whispered, her voice barely a breath in the dark. "I'll take care of you, Naruto."
The bed shifted slightly as Fugaku stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He blinked in confusion at the sight of his wife holding a small child beside her. "Mikoto? What…?"
"Go back to sleep, Fugaku," she whispered gently, stroking Naruto's red hair. "I'll explain everything tomorrow. He's safe with us now."
Fugaku's brow furrowed slightly, but he trusted his wife. Mikoto was a protector by nature, and he knew better than to question her in moments like these. He nodded sleepily and pulled the blankets tighter around them, closing his eyes once more.
As the room fell into silence, Mikoto continued to cradle Naruto, her heart aching for the boy who had suffered so much already. He was so small, so innocent, and yet the village had failed him. She remembered, bitterly, the Third Hokage's refusal to let her take Naruto in all those years ago. This child, Kushina's child, had been neglected for so long.
Her fingers gently traced the boy's cheek, her eyes misting with unshed tears. "Kushina... Minato... I'm so sorry. I should have done more."
But now, Naruto was in her care. And she would ensure that he had the warmth, the love, and the training he so desperately needed. He wouldn't be alone anymore. As she lay beside him, her arms wrapped protectively around his small body, she vowed that she would never let him feel abandoned again.
Naruto was home.