Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Minato had been many things throughout his relatively short life. He once lived in poverty as the nameless son of a prostitute and an abusive alcoholic; that part of his life taught him to be thankful for what he gained and for every single little drop of good that came his way.

That part of his life also taught him another important lesson: there can never be love without pain. His mother had been on the extreme end of that belief, convinced that every bruise, cut, and blister that marred her body was a sign of her husband's undying love.

Entering the academy kicked off the next portion of his life, one where he pined for a red-headed beauty, yearning to speak but being too afraid to do so. It was during this phase of puppy love that he thought of his name: Namikaze Minato, Harbour from Waves and Wind, an homage to her birth land as well as an identity he could finally grasp.

This part of his life taught him another important lesson: you will never become anything if you hesitate to take action. This lesson helped him save her; it pushed him to learn faster and become better. He didn’t have the advantages of his peers after all; if he wanted to succeed, he needed to know more than everyone else could fathom. He couldn’t stagnate, not even for a second, or else he would fall into obscurity.

The next phase of his life was marked by hardship and mourning, which not only solidified his beliefs on love but also morphed into another segment of wisdom entirely: mourning won’t wake the dead; don’t let it cloud your judgement; compartmentalise; and practise when your life is not on the line.

It was difficult in the beginning, but with each loss, it became closer and closer to second nature, and by the time he was entrusted with students, loss felt like a dull ache, one that he could ignore until the dust settled and he was with her.

The last phase of his life was both his happiest and shortest by far, only lasting around two years. It didn’t teach him much and only reinforced his preexisting beliefs: mourning won’t wake the dead; you will never become anything if you hesitate to take action; be grateful; there can never be any love without pain.

In a way, this phase was the payout for all of his troubles; he climbed his way through the shinobi rankings at breathtaking speed; he spoke to the right people; he made the correct connections, which let him rise further to a rank he never truly believed he could achieve; and most importantly, he was able to spend the rest of his life with her.

Uzumaki Kushina, the woman he’d been pining for, the woman for whom he created his signature jutsu, the woman who inspired his name (though that part was known to no one but himself), When he found out about her pregnancy, he allowed himself to dream and to stagnate in his perceived utopia. Though that didn’t last for long.

This final phase ended with bittersweet melancholy. He saved the village; his son would live, but he and Kushina would die. He wouldn’t be able to join her in the afterlife; he would be sealed in the shikigami's stomach, but he was fine with that, as long as Naruto lived and as long as Kushina could pass on in peace.

He didn’t think that the reaper's death seal could be broken, but he was proven wrong. It was quite strange to go from fighting the nine tails to waking up surrounded by the previous Hokage and being forced to listen to a story he pieced together from diary entries (not that anyone knew about his escapades into the restricted section, and it would be too bothersome to explain).

At least he got to see his son again, this time all grown up, powerful, and untainted by his unsavoury past. It was a relief; he’d hoped that with their deaths, his upbringing would never see the light of day, but he’d been worried—what if it caught up to him? What if his son was forced to pay the price for something he knew nothing about? In the end, he was thankful that Naruto inherited the name Uzumaki; things would have been worse otherwise.

By the end, Minato was ready to pass onto the pure lands, to finally rest, maybe meet his mother, and definitely meet Kushina. He’d done enough, right?

Well, apparently not, because the next time he opened his eyes, he saw the Sage of Six Paths in all his semi-human wrinkly glory. great.

"I have a task of great importance for you." Of course, he wouldn’t be meeting the equivalent of a god without being forced to do his bidding. "There is a world much like this one, though it is many years in the past." Huh? He can guess where this is going. "I want you to go there, leave your mark, and fix all that I could not." Dear God, he just wants to see his wife again. Is that too much to ask for?

Of course he couldn’t say this outright, so he decided on the more neutral "What makes you think that I will be able to do... this?" His hesitant answer only seemed to make the sage more sure.

"You were once thought to be the child of prophecy; you have the talent, the cunning, and the drive to truly change the world." Ah, all the buzz words, huh? A rather flattering way for saying, You seem like you know what you’re doing, and I couldn’t think of anyone else." I must warn you before I send you off: that world might look like ours on the surface, but the difference is striking. I will give you a manual of sorts, and I wish you the best of luck.

And for what seemed like the thousandth time in succession, he closed his eyes and woke up elsewhere.

‘Elsewhere’ turned out to be a forest somewhere in the south of the fire county.

Minato attempted to sit up but ended up splayed out in the dirt with a migraine. It was clear that there was something amiss, specifically with his constitution; it felt wrong, like someone had rearranged him from the inside out. He was eventually able to stand up (with generous assistance from nearby trees), and he assessed his current situation.

He was in unknown territory at an unknown time; his uniform seemed a bit too big on him, like he’d shrunk down; his personalised sleeves reached his thumb; the metal bands he kept on his arm were looser than they should be; there was an unknown weight in his jounin vest (probably the manual the sage mentioned); and there was running water nearby.

Deciding he had nothing to lose, he headed towards the stream. He lowered himself to take a sip of water, only to fall over in shock.

His features were softened slightly—not to the point of being a different person, but definitely noticeable. His hair was also a centimetre or two longer than it should be; nothing major, just... wrong.

He took this opportunity to inspect the rest of his body; it shared the same slight shift towards androgyny. He looked around to make sure there was no one near before taking off his trousers, and, wait, WHERE DID HIS DICK GO?

He made himself presentable before doing what he should have done earlier: reading the manual. It was definitely quite an informative text, excluding no detail about his current situation, from time period to dynamics to details that would fit right into Jiraya’s literature. He knew that he was now an ‘Omega’, which explained his lack of….. acorns. But it also brought up a whole host of issues, like his social standing and the stigma of him being a shinobi, which would be further exacerbated by his no-clan status.

This is nothing that he hasn’t dealt with before; his first life was similar in a way; he just needed to do what he did back then: read as much as he can, utilise the supreme power of bullshit, and hope for the best.

His first order of business would be to take off all the Uzumaki clan symbols sewed onto his uniform. There is no Konoha right now since he is around 120 years away from his time, which means that proudly showcasing a clan symbol to which, to their knowledge, he held no connection would spark massive amounts of outrage and send him to Kushina far more violently than necessary. He took out a small, pocket-sized sewing kit and got to work.

Now that he thought about it, wasn’t 120 years a bit too many? Wasn’t Konoha built approximately 90 years before the Fourth War? And Hashirama was in his thirties by then. He needed to go gather information.

There was a small village a few kilometres away from his ‘spawn location. There he took on the guise of a friendly traveller from the land of the sky. His uniform made it believable; it looked foreign and innovative to the locals. In the end, he gained some key pieces of information during his escapade.

He’s in Nara territory.

Hashirama, Madara, and Izuna were barely out of the crib.

Tobirama hadn’t even been conceived yet.

All of that means he’s a sitting duck for at least the next 16 years. Great, just great.

Chapter Text

As it turns out, being an ‘omega’ was a more complicated affair than he first thought. He wasn’t just talking about particular….. apparatuses, though that was a steep learning curve as well; he meant other more finicky matters such as suddenly having a traceable scent, easy for the common populace to spot and dangerous for his continued existence as a shinobi.

He managed, of course, realizing that the scent could be covered with seals and herb mixtures, making him appear as a ‘beta’ .The dynamic he would have been if the world just let him stay the way he was! One could say that he mourned such a change, even going as far as setting up a grave stone where he first woke up and carving ‘here lies my masculinity and life-giving acorns, may they Rest In Peace’. He was quite the comedian, really; at least one of Shikaku’s ancestors would find it humorous, who knows? Maybe it’ll become one of those strange tourist attractions.

Of course, no matter how much he complained, he still kept something very important in mind: he should be thankful. There aren’t many who are given a second chance in life; there aren’t many who could say that they met the Sage of Six Paths; and none he knew of were given the opportunity to bend the rules of time and space. He is definitely grateful but quite hesitant to admit it due to how much of an abject mess this little excursion is.

Among other things, he needs to establish himself in this world, with support ranging from minimal to nonexistent. He also needs to train in a completely different fighting style ( the flying raijin hasn’t been created yet, and Minato didn’t feel particularly inclined to commit plagiarism). He also needed to deal with Zetsu somehow, but he didn’t know how it operated or even how its chakra felt.

Currently, his highest priority is training; anything else could come after he becomes proficient enough to ignore the urge to use hiraishin altogether. Cataloguing his current arsenal (currently uncreated jutsu are not included), he could think of a few ways he could go about this. He could weaponize his fuuinjutsu in a number of ways, though those techniques would usually require a lot of setup before hand, making them not ideal for ambushes. Sage mode had similar caveats to the first: he needed to stay still for extended periods of time to access it; perhaps he could create a seal that could store that chakra for later use, similar to Lady Tsunade’s hundred healings. He would definitely need to expand his jutsu reputation and perhaps learn a thing or two about kenjutsu, which seemed to be exceedingly common during this time period.

With his mind somewhat set on one idea, he got to work, setting up camp in a strip of neutral territory near the eastern mountain pass. Locals say this area is neutral due to the Kyuubi lurking within those very mountains. But Minato had his doubts: why would the Kyuubi decide on residing in this exact location? Probably some tourism scam.

In any case, Kyuubi or not, he has a goal, and he will accomplish it! After all, Becoming complacent isn’t ideal, especially in this time period, where peace hasn’t even been dreamt of yet and where one wrong turn leads to a violent encounter with a patrol unit. If he couldn’t stagnate in his time, when peace could become reality, we won’t let him slack off here.

Perhaps he’s being a bit too extreme; Fugaku definitely thought so when he shared this ideology with the older man in a very awkward conversation over tea (a meeting forced upon them by Mikoto and Kushina). Minato remembers the way Uchiha’s ever-present frown deepened at his explanation. "You act as though your life exists on borrowed time".

Which wasn’t wrong; he found out only around three years after that conversation that he was in fact on borrowed time. If he hadn’t trained as hard as he did, if he had decided to live in the moment instead of memorizing scrolls, he wouldn’t have reached the heights he did; he would have stayed as one of many nameless troops. But he didn’t; he didn’t because he worked hard, because he climbed the ladder with sweet words and genocide disguised as honour.

Currently, he's circled back to square one; he’s once again a no-name shinobi with virtually no hope of reaching his previous highs. So he trained.

Performed his katas until his limbs felt too heavy to move.

Practiced and created jutsu until his chakra was all but gone.

Studied until he couldn’t think.

Wrote until his wrist could barely move.

For an average, heck, even above-average shinobi, this type of training was a death sentence. Most couldn’t deal with the pain; others would overestimate themselves and die from chakra exhaustion. The majority would think this was too extreme; Minato didn’t understand such sentiments.

He never understood why people couldn’t use such methods; he didn’t have an understanding of the average person’s limits. Perhaps that was the very reason that team Minato never succeeded; he never pushed them quite as hard as he should’ve, too scared to break them, too scared to shatter their spirit.

To him, a broken rib was just a small pain in his chest.
To him, a third-degree burn was like a minor rash.
He never understood why most couldn’t handle it, and he never put much effort into understanding, fearing that if he did, he’d become arrogant like the clan children who undermined their civilian counterparts.

He trained for months, perhaps even an entire year or three, and during the course of his regime he saw nothing but deer and the occasional wolf, that is until he decided to move to the mountains.

He needed a place to practice his senjutsu, one where he wouldn’t be interrupted, and the mountain chain conveniently situated near him seemed good enough.

In his defense, he didn’t know that the giant sign warning him about the giant fox's favorite sleeping spots was actually real; he simply thought it was superstitious bullshit. And who could blame him? He practically spent both his entire life and the afterlife with the bijuu in one way or another! He simply became a bit too desensitized to his presence, that’s all!

He didn’t mean to wake the diva! And he wasn’t planning to fight the overgrown fluff ball either! But here he was, trying to evade an angry, mega-sized asshole while also shouting apologies in hopes of defusing the situation.

He tried everything, from somewhat self-respecting like Kyuubi-sama, please forgive this impudent mortal for his mindless wandering" to shameful groveling like "Mercy, please, I beg for mercy!" But nothing worked; contrary to their intended purpose, the pleas only seemed to make him more aggressive. And Minato himself was one misplaced graze away from sealing this bitch in a teapot.

That misplaced graze landed on one of his vest pockets, specifically the one that held his headband and the Uzumaki crests he removed from his uniform. The headband, as well as two of the three patches, fell into the abyss; the last one was luckily placed at an odd angle and escaped its siblings fate.

Seeing this unfold and seeing what was probably his last remaining link to his past disappear into the murky depths, Minato’s remaining patience ran dry. With a shout of frustration, he jumped back, took out an empty scroll, and started scribbling ruthlessly. He then charged at the Godzilla-sized fucktard and slammed the array onto it, sealing a portion of its chakra and reverting it to the size of an average fox.

Both of them started falling into the canyons below. Minato managed to slow his descent and landed with dignified flare; the Kyuubi, however, well, let’s just say that the gigantic beast had no idea how to stop a fall; it never had to before, so he fell in a painful heap.

"Are you going to listen now?" Minato yelled at the now semi-cowering orange puff ball. "I’m sorry that I disturbed your nap; I didn’t mean to do it, but your response was just ridiculous! Lashing out at all who come near is no way to treat others; no wonder you’re so lonely!" Okay, maybe using insecurities he learned off in his last life was a bit of a low blow, but currently all of Minato’s usual courtesy is on vacation far away from the situation. "Now if you would excuse me, I need to find something you made me lose."

With that, he stomped off, scroll in hand, leaving the miniature diva to do as he pleased.

Minato never found the patches and headband. He was still angry, but he came to terms with it quite easily.

He started on the sage training he came here for, but strangely, it took an entire week for the once-mighty Kyuubi to come to him, tail between its legs and guilt riddling his stature. The two were civil this time, conversing softly and going as far as sharing a few tales of their past escapades.

In the end, the Kyuubi, now Kurama, got his chakra back, Minato was allowed to use the surrounding area for future training, and they agreed to set up spars every couple months.

(They didn’t know about the herb picker who saw their first spar from some distance away; he didn’t know about the villagers who witnessed the feared Kyuubi disappear in a puff of smoke.)

In the end, rumors spread about the clan-less rogue nin calling himself Namikaze Minato. Those rumors took on many forms over the next few years, going from his strange relationship with the Kyuubi to retellings of the missions he started taking after leaving those mountains. From his success fighting off a thousand men all by himself to the incredible speed at which he delivered missives.

(He wouldn’t know how these stories influenced his image or exactly how many targets it painted on his back until it shot him in the foot.)

Chapter Text

Sixteen years seemed to go by in the blink of an eye, days blurring together as he took on mission after mission and trained for days on end.

He did end up making the imitation hundred-healings, only so that if the need arose, he would have a way of using sage chakra without the wind-up time holding him back.

His first few years on the field in this unusual world were, for lack of a better word, utterly disastrous.

First off, he didn’t know the customs and courtesy that he should abide by, leading to him accidentally ‘talking down’ to and ‘humiliating’ a client. He didn’t know that he should’ve used a different honorific! And he didn’t think the ‘Alpha’ had skin so thin that a single comment about taking a different route almost got him hanged! Luckily, he escaped by the skin of his teeth with nothing more than a scratch.

Then there was the initial rumour about his amenable relationship with Kurama, which led people to believe that his lackluster understanding of social norms was a byproduct of being raised by the Kyuubi, which wouldn’t’ have been a problem if his dynamic hadn’t gotten leaked!

(Damn Inuzuka and their stupidity-sensitive noses.)

That tidbit led to the Kyuubi rumour transforming into utter sacrilegious bullshit! Because now people think that he is the Kyuubi’s mate hiding in human form. That was…difficult to recover from, especially because it explained his aging, or rather, lack of it.

Remember the imitation Hundred-healings? Yeah, a side effect of storing nature chakra in that type of seal was very, very slow aging, to the point where he only seemed to age 12 years during the course of his entire time in this world.

In any case, that whole crockpot of bullshit blew over around 5 years in; the next decade was relatively mild in comparison, simply comprised of him going from mission to mission, sparing with Kurama every couple months, and scaring the living shit out of anyone who dared talk down to him.

No matter how polite and well-mannered Minato might seem, he did have a hidden mischievous side, one that he used to his advantage in many situations. Like when a pompous noble heir decided to bitch and moan about getting a "weakling" as a bodyguard when he was being escorted through the desert.

It brought Minato a concerning amount of joy to see the brat shaking with fear as he witnessed Minato tearing some bandits into pieces, intentionally letting blood stain his hair and clothes, while smiling as though he did nothing more than chastise the offenders.

This, as well as many other incidents of this nature, gave way to muttering about him being ‘feral’, whatever that meant, as well as strained looks of pity. Needless to say, this past year had probably yielded him some of the most respectful clients he’d ever had the pleasure of working with during both lifetimes.

Which is why the letter summoning him to the capital had him on edge. The fire Daimyo was known for being cumbersome to work with (which is why Minato decided to avoid him in favor of other, more manageable clients) and was known for blacklisting certain shinobi just because they looked at him wrong.

All of this, combined with the fact that this letter summoned him, a clanless rogue, to the clan meeting, made him understandably very hesitant to join. It wasn’t hard to predict what the Daimyo wanted to do; Minato’s existence probably rubbed him the wrong way and resulted in a plan to humiliate him, and what better way to do that than invite him to an event he’s obviously not qualified to be a part of?

Alas, he couldn’t just not show up; that would be an obvious show of disrespect that would land him in even hotter waters. So for the sake of his continued and somewhat peaceful existence, he—the newly nicknamed ‘clanless speedster’—would begrudgingly attend.

Even before walking in, he felt very out of place. The venue was lavishly decorated, adorned with jewels and silk curtains. The people there were dressed to the nines with layers upon layers of embroidered silk; even with his most expensive robe (one that he splurged on for an infiltration mission some years back), he still looked like nothing more than a servant in comparison.

Minato noticed the glances in his direction; they weren’t subtle, and there was no need for them to be subtle; just because he was invited didn’t mean that he was welcome.

After some time, he settled on observing the festivities from the sidelines, deciding to forgo the plentiful banquet in favor of people watching (you never know who prepared those foods; some poisons are nigh untraceable, and it’s better to be safe).

Some minutes later, the guests were ushered into the assembly room, where the mid-year conference (for which this banquet was held) was about to begin.

The seating areas were divided by clan affiliation, with each section marked by the clan symbol in question, which was an issue for Minato because no matter where he sat, he’d be in the wrong. So he simply decided to stand off to the side, away from searching eyes.

Soon after the Daimyo took the stand, the conference commenced. The topics were similar to those he himself discussed with his era’s Daimyo: budget, exports from each clan, and imports that needed to be made. Of course, it differed in the fact that there were many more voices talking over each other, as well as not-so-thinly veiled scathing remarks (especially between the Senju and Uchiha representatives).

It was at this point that Minato decided that he might have just been there as unpaid labour. Which was annoying, but fine enough; he certainly fit in with the hidden mguards. Just as Minato let go of his lingering suspicion, the Aburame clan head spoke up.

"Your Highnesses," a pause, "what purpose is served by the unseated representative?" Oh dear, the fly-like insect whizzing around the room must have been one of his.

The Daimyo now deigned to look in his direction and say, "Ah, you must be Namikaze; your attendance is rather surprising." Great, the pleasantry game, and Minato could already feel his courtesy packing its bags. But he couldn’t just ignore the other, so he put on the fakest smile he could muster and spoke in a syrupy tone.

"It would have been quite rude to leave such important summons unanswered, but if my presence was never required, I’d be glad to take my leave." The shocked gasps and subsequent murmurs from the delegations hinted at his mess-up.

"Are you implying that I made a mistake?" The ruler's tone was measured, daring him to respond, and Minato was all too happy to oblige.

"All of us make mistakes, sir; birthright doesn’t negate the possibility." Oh, the Daimyo’s face gained a very ugly tinge of red; he really should stop forgetting that he’s in no position to bait, but the little shit buried deep within just couldn’t resist.

"That may be true, but birthright gives the power to silence those who step out of line," a threat, a very blatant one to be daring.

"Are you sure? A tense silence filled the room.

"I beg your pardon."

"Are you sure that birthright can give such power?" Minato decided to move closer to the stand, his smile still marring his features. He decided to add another comment, just to fan the flame. "A person's words, no matter how high their standing, can do quite little when faced with the wrong opponent." That seemed to set the high and mighty ass off the edge.

"Was that a challenge?" Ridged said it behind bared teeth with a bit of growl, as well as a strange presence being emitted, similar to killing intent. The other Omegas in the room seemed to collectively freeze up and shutter. Ah, this must be the ‘Alpha voice’ that many warn about; really, it was quite underwhelming, though that might be due to Minato’s lack of instinct.

"Perhaps it was." Shock seemed to be the primary emotion felt by the unlucky onlookers, and who could blame them? His utter lack of reaction probably set off some hidden alarm bells, both positive and negative for his future prospects.

"Then so be it," and that final statement was how Minato ended up on a training field, facing up against the two most promising shinobi in the country, Uchiha Madara and Senju Hashirama.

To give credit where credit is due, the Uchiha clan head (Tajima, if memory serves) was quite vocal about his displeasure with this matchup, not because he was worried for Minato; no, no, he couldn’t give less than a rats ass. But because he was one of the few Shinobi who witnessed how Minato usually fights, he didn’t want to risk losing an heir to a petty squabble.

The Daimyo, in all his infuriating glory, decided to respond with the most formal and disrespectful ‘fuck you’ he’d ever heard.

Returning to the present moment, both parties were at a disadvantage, armorless and dolled up. Though Minato was less hesitant to dirty his robes, they had been rotting away in a scroll for the past five years, so it mattered little if they ended up shredded. The other two, however, had strict fathers who whispered threats before they took the field. After a tense moment, Minato decided to make the first move.

He moved his hand towards the opposite wrist, making an Exaggerated show of activating the seal painted in bold ink to reveal

.
.
.

Two bells?

"If both of you take a bell each within the next hour, the win will be yours." He spoke like he did to the three Genin he taught all those years ago, with a genuine smile and an upbeat voice. That set the two into motion, bristling at the remark.

They started an uncoordinated barrage of taijutsu, one that Minato dodged rather easily, mocking them with an unfaltering smile. Eventually Madara took out a kunai he hid on his person, a technicality permitting the use of weaponry, something that could be used to his advantage.

Minato jumped back, took out a scroll, and summoned a dozen modified kunai. Not with the Hiraishin seal but with a different one altogether. He threw some in a seemingly sloppy manner, missing Madara and Hashirama altogether.

Now that Hashirama had decided to start using mokuton and Madara had activated the Sharingan, trying to end the fight as soon as possible, it was time to start.

Minato threw the rest of the kunai during the onslaught. It was at that point that Madara made a crucial mistake, leaving a deep cut on Minato’s cheek.

Minato fell back to the middle of the training ground, his smile turning sinister as he collected some of the blood on his thumb and lowered it to the ground, activating the array. The points at which his kunai were located lit up, and chakra-dense wind filled the enclosed area.

Madara let out a pained shout and closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the Sharingans vision, and Hashirama’s Mokuton suddenly stopped forming, dissolving into sticky mud. Minato used this moment of confusion to launch a counterattack.

He shunshin’ed towards them and launched a rasengan between them, knocking them out in the shock wave.

As the dust settled, the spectators saw Minato standing calmly near a crater and the unconscious bodies of two clan heirs scattered on opposite sides of the field. Minato, suddenly becoming very nervous, gave a very eloquent reply to the unsaid inquiries.

"…um….oops?"

Chapter Text

"I’M SO SORRY! I PROMISE TO GATHER THE MONEY AS SOON AS POSSIBLE!"

Minato was regretting every life decision that led him to this point.

After he registered the expressions on the onlookers faces, he realised he messed up. Firstly, he might have used a bit too much chakra in his Rasengan, resulting in his opponents not only being blown back (which was the plan) but also getting possibly brain-damaging concussions and getting their robes torn in the process.

Needless to say, both Butsuma and Tajima were not too thrilled with the conditions of their prized heirs. Really, it was truly a blessing in disguise that those two never got along; when both of them agreed on something, the victim's future became 100 times bleaker. Though Izuna and Tobirama (who’re standing on opposite sides of the room) aren’t making things any better, they're constantly taking turns glaring at him and then each other.

He wants to blame this shitfest on his isolation. (Think about it: if your only exposure to combat is life-or-death missions or a friendly spar with a bijuu, don’t you think that what you consider a ‘safe’ amount of force becomes a bit iffy?)

Now, as he was bowing as far as he could go, Minato realised the true consequences of this mess on his finances.

Debt wasn’t something he’d thought about since his Chunin days; he inherited his father's negative bank balance and paid it off little by little, only managing to do so due to the sheer amount of missions he took during that part of his life; otherwise, it would have haunted him until he became a Jonin.

He dealt with it silently; no one around him knew of his struggles—not Jiraya, not even Kushina. Though he suspected that Shikaku and Inoichi had their suspicions, to them it was likely quite strange that the thousands he’d earned would never see the light of day. Luckily, they never said anything, likely feeling that if he himself didn’t say anything, they shouldn't either.

But unlike his previous sum, the robes that he damaged were worth millions combined; it would take his entire life’s savings and another two years of missions to pay the total value.

He might as well just start living with Kurama since he would need to sell his current abode to get rid of this debt as soon as possible.

Then there was also the political aspect to consider; he would be blacklisted by not only the Senju and Uchiha, but also all of their allies (read, every clan in the land of fire except for Hatake) and the fire Daimyo.

He was never going to recover from this, which was going to make finding and stopping Zetsu that much harder.

Zetsu was now a problem, Minato originally planned to track the blob of oozing tar down as soon as he got his training in order, but that didn’t work due to the mouldy bastard being too slippery.

Then he thought that he’d just wait until the founding of Konoha; that way he could recruit two of the strongest Shinobi in history. But now, that seems nigh impossible.

He didn’t know how the two would act upon waking up; heck, he might’ve even chased them out of the field for good! In the end, they wouldn’t know until the two woke up, and he had to stay there until they did, just so that Butsuma and Tajima would beat him until the brink of death if Madara or Hashirama woke up mentally impaired.

It was terrifying to sit between two very angry men who hated each other. The silence was deafening, and this time any word he said would make the situation worse. The strange energy exuding from them in waves didn’t help his frayed nerves.

The daimyo, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of his life witnessing his suffering. The Lord also had a sinister glint in his eye, which means that he should be prepared to face even more challenges ahead.

At last, after several hours of tense silence, Hashirama finally woke up, with Madara following his example an hour or so later. Luckily for them (and Minato’s continued existence), their brains were functioning well, and any problems caused by being flung at terminal velocity were temporary.

But of course, Hashirama just had to notice him attempting to fuse with the wall, and he just had to blurt out the first thing that came to mind.

"How?" Once again, all the attention suddenly focused on him, and unless he wanted to get tortured into next week, he had to share his secrets (there goes the possibility of selling the array; it would’ve nabbed a hearty sum as well).

"Well..." his hesitance earned more glaring and another bout of that strange energy from the oldest two in the room( what was that anyway? You could practically smell it!) "Mokuton is a mixture of Suiton and Douton, but it requires extra energy in the form of nature chakra to become a living organism. So to make Mokuton ineffective, you must find a way to use up all the nature chakra in the vicinity before the Mokuton branches even form. The array did just that; it focused all the nature chakra into a place where a Mokuton user couldn’t reach.”

"And what of Madara’s reaction?" Tobirama was the one who spoke up this time; he seemed to be quite interested in Minato’s knowledge, something to note for later.

"It was an unintended side effect," not quite true, but they didn’t need to know that. "Since all the nature chakra concentrated and formed wind, it became semi-tangible, not enough for the average eye to discern, but enough for the Sharingan to pick up on it. The sheer amount of chakra, as well as other debris that was picked up, can overwhelm the Sharingan if the user isn’t prepared."

Everyone stared at him for a long while, Tobirama seeming enticed and knowledge-hungry, while the rest looked with varying amounts of weariness. It's understandable; who wouldn’t be if some nameless thorn in your side somehow found a way to render several kekei-genkai ineffective?

"Now that everything has been resolved, I believe it’s time for my own two cents." The Daimyo had once again decided to butt in and do more damage. The way the Lord sounded like a pleased cat, it didn’t bode well.

"What would those two cents be, your excellency?" Tajima inquired, on guard. The Daimyo’s face split into a positively sinister grin.

"A marriage contract"

Okay, so maybe Minato should’ve actually paid attention to how dynamics affect his standing in polite society because that was the exact blind spot used against him.

In the Shinobi world, as long as you can complete the mission objective, nobody could give less than a rats ass about which part of the life creation equation you can do.

The civilian world, however, was a completely different story. First off, they had very strict rules and expectations about how each dynamic should act, and anyone who deviates from that expectation is considered ‘wayward’. Which describes Minato to a tee.

You see, his previous bouts of shinobi mischief (i.e., the times he purposefully scares the living shit out of his clients) as well as his defiant blabbering all point to an omega condition called being ‘feral’, and as per his usual pattern, his complete lack of reaction towards ‘pheromones’ (which is apparently a second form of communication and part of the whole ‘alpha voice’ shtick) didn’t help him defend against these accusations.

And really, how could he refute those statements without sounding even more unhinged? He couldn’t just say that he was from an alternate universe where this pseudo-science-inspired bullshit didn’t exist!

So he had to play the defective card, which could have theoretically worked if he hadn’t shown such a strong reaction towards Tajima and Butsuma’s ire! Because apparently that killing intent but not energy had something to do with this pheromone stuff people kept blabbing on about!

(Really, for someone whose whole life was defined by constantly being two steps ahead, Minato was many more steps behind.)

So in the end, to "cure" this alleged ailment that haunted him, the Daimyo decided that the best course of action would be to marry him off to a ‘respectable Alpha’ so that he would have a ‘suitable support network’, which is where Tajima came in.

Really, it wasn’t hard to see that the Daimyo was trying to humiliate both Minato and the Uchiha clan head because they defied the Lord during this shitfest (well, Tajima just wanted to have an intact heir, but to the Daimyo, that was apparently treason).

So to the Lord, it was a way to kill two birds with one stone, shoving Minato into temporary house arrest (a tradition for newly married omegas apparently) and forcing Tajima to deal with the ‘wayward wench’ as punishment.

Though this plan of his merited a lot of preparation (Tajima is clan head and vital for the metalworking industry, while Minato had become quite an influential name, whether they liked it or not),

The first order of business was paying back the sum he owed to the Uchiha; otherwise, it would be a complicated arrangement otherwise.(Of course, this left his debt to the Senju, which technically became the Uchiha’s problem as well, but that was a political wormhole nobody wanted to traverse yet.)

Then there was an entire wedding to plan, and since Minato had neither parents nor knowledge of how a wedding ceremony should go in this era, he was left out of the loop until he needed to follow the proceedings. (Which were Precious months used to go on a mission spree to hopefully make up for the three months of house arrest he’d be forced to endure.)

Luckily for everyone involved, he only needed to see something once to do it well. And so the wedding itself was relatively uneventful, far less cheerful than the one held to honour his and Kushina’s union, but more opulent to make up for that (and thankfully all funded by the Daimyo’s deep pockets).

But alas, his suffering was not over after the festivities drew to a close; they still had to consummate the wedding, something that Minato was admittedly dreading.

*

Tajima really didn’t know what to make of this ‘Namikaze Minato’. The man was an enigma in every sense of the word, being clanless while also being better than almost every clan in Shinobi combined. Clearly having political experience while also disregarding every social grace. And most importantly, his constant yo-yoing between being well-adjusted and horrendously clueless

It wasn’t hard to see that Namikaze came from a troubled upbringing; the fact that he used his last months of freedom to do a suicidal amount of back-to-back missions spoke well enough of that fact. The blonde lived in the moment with an incessant need to know everything and be prepared for anything.

(His money hoarding said that more clearly than anyone could articulate, not to mention his ridiculous learning speed, something perfected out of necessity, no doubt.)

While Tajima still held the imaginary tin foil hat, he pondered the most obvious sign of a not-so-ideal upbringing: Namikaze’s very incessant efforts to avoid consummation. His tactics weren’t typical of a person who was shy, uninterested, or even disgusted; the blonde's personality would warrant him being very upfront about that.

The way he kept filling the air with pointless chatter and the subtle coaxing to drink copious amounts of sleep-inducing tea (and pointedly not alcohol, which would have been more effective), this was clearly someone who was terrified out of his wits after likely seeing the worst that humanity had to offer and not wanting a replica of that to happen to himself.

(Of course, his musings were practically confirmed by the acidic scent coming off the other in waves, though he seemed completely oblivious to the fact, something that made Tajima ponder more.)

Though, despite his theory, Tajima himself knew that the Daimyo’s reason for this union was utter horsecrap. Despite what the civilians think, Namikaze Minato was never feral—unsocialized perhaps, but not feral. Rather, the blonde just had a very dark and uncouth sense of humour, something that civilians misinterpret as a threat despite it being quite far from that.

Tajima witnessed this firsthand during a mission he had with the blonde some years ago. It was an escort mission, one that he was assigned to at the last minute because the young lord he was escorting didn’t trust the other shinobi. That other shinobi was Namikaze. He remembers that the young lord was all too happy to make backhanded remarks about the blonde, never really insulting him but cutting it close.

By the time the Caravan was ambushed by some bandits, the younger seemed to reach his wits end with the lord and decided to show the brat exactly what he was capable of. So he put on a show, slicing and dicing to his heart's content. Any shinobi
Anyone worth their salt could see that it was a way to get a reaction out of the Lord, and admittedly, it was funny, but not a good way to portray himself if the younger ever wanted a good reputation.

Getting back to the situation at hand, Namikaze seemed to become more and more frantic, even going as far as reciting wildlife trivia; this was probably his cue to defuse the situation.

"Tell me" broke the other out of a rant about different types of bear fur. "Do you have a shogi board in that storage network of yours?" A pause, then a hesitant response.

"Yes actually." Namikaze then found a seal on his elbow (how many did he have? It seemed like every inch of the blonde was covered in invisible seals). He then quietly set it up.

"Hm, good quality, Nara made?" He decided to fill the new silence with conversation. The younger man caught on and made his first move.

"Yes, a gift from an old friend." Old likely meant dead; Tajima didn’t comment on that.

They then took turns moving pieces in silence; it took some time, but eventually the older broke the ice.

"My late wife, Fuyuko was her name; she was quite fond of this game; her matches used to go on for hours on end." That remark seemed to spark a memory in the blond.

"Kushina wouldn’t have had the patience," he smiled bitterly; she must have meant a lot to him.

"You were married?" Tajima made sure to speak softly; it wouldn’t do them any good to antagonize each other.

"Many years ago, before I started my shinobi career here, we had a child together; we named him Naruto. They're both in a better place now". There was quite a lot to unpack in that one statement. Though that speculation should be saved for a different day.

As they spoke in between their moves, Tajima realized that they really weren’t that different; they were simply two broken middle-aged men who lived for far longer than they ought to. After another set of moves, he asked his final question for the night.

"Do you think that peace is possible?" Madara’s childish words from so long ago still haunt him some nights; another person’s perspective would hopefully clear that up. Minato froze mid-move after hearing his words; the blonde then contemplated for a bit before saying

"No, for as long as this occupation of ours exists, there can never be true peace," he then started making his move. "But"

"But?"

"There can be respite." With that, Tajima looked at the board. Minato won, and they started a new round.

Perhaps letting the blonde sleep hunched against the shogi board hadn’t been the best course of action, but startling the sleeping man could’ve led to losing a limb, and he really didn’t want to take that chance.

As they walked into the communal mess hall, the blond earned quite a number of stares, especially when he went to sit down and clutched his back in misery. One of the brasher Alphas decided to comment upon this.

"Had a rough night?" Some others in the hall let out a laugh before being promptly silenced by the closest person with manners (or, in Izuna’s case, being chucked into the Khoi pond), but before anyone could move to reprimand, the youngster Minato responded, seemingly oblivious to the connotation of the others words.

No, just," he hissed, "my age is catching up to me."

"Age?" Another inquired, asking the question that had likely been plaguing the minds of many. The blonde's response subsequently broke the world view of most Uchiha in the vicinity.

"I’m forty-two."

"WHAT?"

Chapter Text

As a whole, the Uchiha were pretty divided on their new addition. Rumors were inconsistent; depending on who you listened to, the blonde could be anything from friendly and easy to work with to a literal demon spawn, and the one-sided round of twenty questions (interrogation) on his first morning in the compound didn’t explain as much as they’d hoped. Though they did learn a few things.

He was trained by an eccentric sage from Mount Myoboku.

He participated in a war ‘elsewhere’.

He was married to someone named ‘Kushina’.

He had a child!

And most importantly, everyone he mentioned was ‘in a better place’ (dead). All of this occurred within the first twenty-four years of his life, and yet even with this much, it was clear he was hiding a lot more.

All of the somewhat skilled Shinobi in the room noticed the lack of clear descriptions, like their appearance could reveal something. This was especially apparent when he spoke of this ‘Kushina’ woman; for someone who claims that he first fell for her due to the colour of her hair, he seemed awfully hesitant to share exactly what colour that hair was.

And then there was also the suspicious lack of last names; it would have made sense if he spoke of civilians in the lower dregs or even just people with a naming culture similar to the land of wind. But she spoke of influential figures and hesitated before saying some names. (That was brought to further scrutiny when he spoke of shinobi named Shikaku, Inoichi, and Chouza, who just happened to be close friends.)

All in all, this left a very scattered impression. The children didn’t care, the war vets were weary, the Aunties were delighted, and the Elders swung between not giving a damn and being one blink away from murder.

That didn’t give me high hopes for the next three months, months in which the omega would not stray from the compound as per tradition.

This tradition started as a necessary measure during a time when newlywed omegas were at constant risk of kidnapping. Back then, it was a way to make sure that the omega in question wouldn’t meet an unfortunate end so soon after starting anew.

However, this three-month period was a way to adjust to a new routine and integrate into the new clan.

(It was also the time when the new member learned of all the secret passages and escape routes, but that part was more of an open secret.)

The first day of Minato’s new life at the compound was spent touring the place and introducing him to any key figures he would need to speak to on a regular basis. One of the places he visited was the ‘clothing house’, which would be where you went when you needed to wash, repair, or replace any clothing you had. He seemed to instantly click with the ‘Sewing Aunties’, a group of ten middle-aged beta women and seven middle-aged omegas who were in charge of the repair and replacement aspects.

In fact, he clicked with them so well that he started going there every two or so days to help and talk. That’s where the first murmurs of the blondes ridiculous learning speed took root.

(No one really believed that he learned how to embroider from just looking at one of the aunties doing it once, not until they saw him make an arrow on his first try, with results far better than those of an apprentice fletcher.)

After around two weeks of this routine, he asked for permission to use the training grounds, which was granted with little hesitation because it was just some light training, right? Nothing more than an hour or two a day to make sure he doesn’t get rusty—well, that’s what they thought it was, at least; they couldn’t have been more wrong.

The unfortunate lad who found out exactly what Minato’s ‘light training’ entailed was none other than Hikaku, who had the misfortune of walking in on the omega breaking a bone, letting said bone just hang out in the open, and continuing on like nothing happened. Of course, being a well-adjusted young man with an understanding of human limitations, Hikaku was mortified—so mortified in fact that it took him an hour to gain back his senses and take action.

Alas, that was more than enough time for Minato to squeeze in a dislocated hip, fractured ribs, third-degree burns, and one too many lacerations. The walk to the medical bay was interesting. Minato, despite having an exaggerated reaction to back pain, seemed completely unfazed by the wounds, which are one fall away from life-threatening.

Sora from Med Bay (the one in her fifties with two children and a fully functioning liver) had many colourful words to say about the youngers ‘methods’.

"Now, I’m sure it isn’t half as bad as you make it out to be." Minato’s blatant lack of awareness made Sora want to claw her eyes out in frustration, but instead she settled on an explanation, because that should get the point across, right?

“Sir, many of your bones have healed incorrectly, and your muscle tissue also seems to be disconnected in some areas, not to mention that your back pain is due to a vertebrae in your spine being encased in a thick layer of scar tissue. If any of this were to happen to anyone else, they would be paralysed or dead."

That seemed to shut him up until Tajima got there, which sparked another round of oblivious blabber.

"This wasn’t a problem before, so surly-"

"Sir, ‘before’ was likely when there was a healer around who could handle injuries like these with no further questions asked. At the age you are now, your body is naturally degrading; it can’t handle as much strain anymore, and I recommend that you slow down and smell the flowers." She seemed to be lost in thought for a bit before asking "how did you deal with these injuries over the last sixteen years, they were definitely healed in a way, but it seems strange”.

And that was how Sora learned of ‘imitation hundred-healings Tsunade inspired nature chakra storage variation 56’. Which was a seal he used to store chakra with the added bonus of slowed ageing and enhanced regeneration, which certainly explained the scar tissue encasedvertebrae.

Though once asked about the ‘imitation’ portion of the frankly stupid name, she didn’t get a direct response but rather a cryptic "you’ll understand eventually".

(There were times when he tensed up and turned as if he was trying to see something. That something seemed to have never existed in the first place. Most chalked it up to the stress of living with unfamiliar people, but there were some who understood.

There was something lurking in the shadows.)

Anyway, that ordeal ended with Minato only being permitted to enter the training grounds under supervision, which eventually turned into only being able to enter the training grounds to spar with Madara or Izuna because the man just didn’t comprehend anything to do with limits unless someone else was the punching bag.

That decree meant that Minato had to entertain himself in other ways (the sewing Aunties were definitely wonderful company, but he couldn’t just hover around them all the time).

Which is how he met Kagami.

It was quite endearing to see both of them interact, with Kagami running around and dragging Minato along. In a way, they became a sort of teacher-student pair, where the blonde patiently explained the inner workings of the world and Kagami, perhaps for the first time in his life, actually sat still and focused on the explanation.

When asked about how he could perform this level of witchcraft, the omega retreated into his mind and spoke of a child named ‘Obito’ and of what he called his ‘failure’ as a teacher. From the dregs of information that they could get out of him before he excused himself, they could paint a slightly clearer picture of the man’s life before he lost it all.

He was put in charge of three children, only his juniors by approximately ten years; he was nineteen when they were first handed to him, and he made many mistakes while attempting to teach them, which in the end led to all of their deaths.

Some decided to reassure him by saying that he was too young back then. Others who were more aware and hardened said that the little team was destined to fail, that the three weren’t compatible and didn’t take shinobi life seriously enough to succeed.

Strangely enough, the second reassurance made the blonde smile slightly. "I know; I knew from the very beginning that at least one wouldn’t survive, but I decided to delude myself, and look where that got me." That was the moment he left.

It was Madara who was put in charge of finding Minato after he hadn’t returned for dinner. He was easy to find, just sitting out in the open on the Cliff side near the Naka River.

Madara walked up to his now-stepmother (wasn’t that a strange designation for someone who beat his ass?) and sat next to him, following the blonde's gaze up towards the moon. They sat like this for a while, simply basking in the tranquilly.

"Do you think… that the moon would look beautiful if it were bathed in red?" Such a question caught Madara off guard; it was strained and said with a haunted edge.

"No, there is too much red in the world already." He realized that it could imply one of two things, but the relieved smile he got showed that the Omega knew which one he meant.

"Good, keep thinking that; don’t change your mind." With that, they returned to the compound in silence. Tajima led the blonde to their shared chambers; luckily for Madara’s sanity, he didn’t hear any ‘passion’.

(Come to think of it, he had never heard anything beyond hushed conversations and the clacking of pieces on a Shogi board.)

Nobody batted an eye when Kagami started whispering things to Minato, nor did anybody question Izuna for suddenly hanging around the two more and more often.

That is, until the pranks started again.

You see, when Minato started taking care of Kagami, the child’s pranks decreased drastically until they became virtually nonexistent. Kagamis mother was in fact delighted that the new head ‘matriarch’ had been such a good influence on her rambunctious youngster.

But what they didn’t know was that this was just a tactic to make them lose their guard.

It started with the blacksmiths not being able to burn the coal they had; it took an entire work day for them to realise that all of the coal in their workhouse was coated in a fire-resistant film, which was a hassle to remove, but no material had to be wasted.

Then the sewing aunties couldn’t find their needles; they were all running around and panicking for two hours. It wasn’t until Minato came in for the scheduled meetup that they realised that the needles were hung on the ceiling, organised by size in little boxes. In the end, the two hours lost were made up for by Minato’s ridiculous efficiency.

There were more pranks of this nature set off in the compound, all too sophisticated to be wholly Kagami’s doing, but there was never any evidence that pointed to any one person being at fault.

Well, that was until old man Kotetsu stumbled upon Kagami and Izuna setting up one of those pranks; this time the two were mixing up labels in the wood storage.

Of course, after being busted, both were made to kneel in the square while Tajima absolutely obliterated them in the most passionate lecture in Uchiha clan history.

If it weren’t for Izuna and Kagami’s intense glaring and Minato’s attempts to stifle laughter, nobody would have suspected the blonde. In any case, it’s not like they could prove that the clan head's spouse was involved, so they kept their mouth shut. The pranks stopped soon after anyway, so why bother?

(Ryugi, the one from the third branch twice divorced, started acting strange; he would have manic episodes that ended with at least two others getting hurt. Most blamed it on his alcoholism catching up to him, but those who noticed the taint in his chakra knew.

Something was starting to take action.)

No one really knew how to react when a bear-sized Kyuubi no yoko intercepted a patrol unit, demanding that the ‘blonde-haired brat" be brought before him. No one really knew what to say or even how to explain that they couldn’t just bring the literal matriarch of the Uchiha to the fucking Kyuubi! So they settled on escorting the giant (though heavily miniaturised) demon to the heart of the compound.

It was quite the spectacle, and all the Uchiha could do was pray that their compound wouldn’t be levelled by the strongest Bijuu. This was perhaps the first time anyone had seen the giant monster, and everyone was terrified.

Luckily, Minato just happened to be on a walk with Tajima, so after spotting the fluffy demon, he did something that no well-adjusted human being should ever think of when being targeted by said demon: he called out its name!

"Oh Kurama-San! What are you doing here?" Hearing this, the demon walked towards the omega.

"Where have you been, brat?" Kyuubi’s voice was menacing, sending shivers down the spines of even the most battle-hardened among the onlookers, though Minato looked completely unfazed.

"Ah….right I’m sorry, Kurama-San, but the spar will have to be postponed by two months." This made everyone’s brains short circuit; after two and a half months of living with the blonde, almost everyone completely disregarded the rumours about him, but to find out that the one where he spars with the Kyuubi was true? Nobody knew how to process that.

"And why is that?" Shit, the Kyuubi must really be pissed! Should they start an evacuation?

“Well, I got married, and- Stop laughing; this is a very important matter, Kurama!" But the Kyuubi being well, the fucking Kyuubi did not bend to the mortals whims and kept chortling until its lungs begged for mercy.

"You finally got over the red-haired wench, but then you settled for a red-eyed bastard? You’re into some strange stuff, brat," the Kyuubi continued, yowling in hilarity while Minato started to become more and more red.

"IT’S NOT LIKE THAT! And don’t say such things about Kushina! she was never a…” Aw, how sweet! He couldn’t say it, but it would have been a much more endearing moment if a bloody Bijuu wasn’t yipping itself into strep throat!

"Whatever you say, brat, but the tales you have of her tell a different story." When the demon finally settled down and everything was explained, a compromise was reached: Minato and the Kyuubi would have their spar in neutral territory the next day, on the condition that Tajima, Madara, and Izuna would escort Minato and the monster from the sidelines.

Needless to say, seeing a giant fox claw at some unseen entity while being hundreds of kilometres away from that field was an experience. No one could blame the head family when they came back looking like they had witnessed the end of the world.

Miraculously, Sora from the med bay only had to fix a broken wrist, a dislocated arm, a fractured femur, and yet another scar tissue-encased vertebra. She made Minato vow that he would find the Kyuubi another sparring partner before he reached his sixties, or else she would be forced to take extreme measures.

Sora really wanted a raise.

(Sachiko, the one who specialises in honeypot missions, has become paranoid lately; at times she went on long rants about how beautiful the moon would be if it were red. Most blamed it on her trauma catching up to her, but those who saw her shadow shift knew.

That something was spreading.)

"The three-month mark will come at this week's end."

Minato and Tajima now share a routine of sorts; they don’t mind each other and don’t interfere with each other's business. But they always meet up at the end of the day over a cup of tea and a game of shogi.

In a way, this was the best-case scenario for the both of them; they don’t hate each other, but there is no love between them; there is care, something close to a friendship, but love would be going too far and fast for these old souls.

"Seems like it will."

Izuna was all too happy to tease them, taking the smallest crumbs of affection and turning them into a banquet of romance. It was entertaining, though he went a bit too far on occasion, but that wasn’t something that couldn’t be fixed by being thrown into the Khoi pond a few times. Well, that’s what Madara said at least.

"I have set up a meeting with the Senju in two weeks time to discuss the debt and perhaps even a truce for the winter."

The debt Minato owes has been an open secret of sorts; nobody mentioned it, but everyone knew. Though no one thought about it as a debt owed by the Uchiha, only Minato knew it was Minato’s problem, even though it was technically their debt as well. Perhaps it was because of the clan's pride; perhaps they simply didn’t acknowledge Minato as a true member of the clan; or perhaps they knew that the blonde would never let them take on what he saw as his responsibility.

The proposition of a winter truce was quite a surprise, but perhaps it should have been expected; there have been no skirmishes ever since wedding preparations began, and that was nine months ago. The closest thing to a skirmish they had was opposing mission criteria, but did that truly count?

"Do you want peace?"

Tajima’s hand halted as his piece almost touched the board.

"No," he said, placing his piece elsewhere. "I want respite."

(Minato was tense, like he was anticipating something, like something was going to happen and all hell would break loose. Most thought he was like this because of the upcoming meeting with the Senju, but there were some who understood.

That something was about to take action.)

Tajima initially called for Ryugi, from the fifth branch, who recently married, and Sachiko, the one who specializes in infiltration, to be his standbys at the meeting zone. But something in admin got mixed up, and the directives went to the wrong Ryugi and Sachiko, it was a bit too late to change that, so he just rolled with the punches.

And besides, he brought Madara, and Minato would be there as well, so if anything went awry, there were more than enough stupidly strong shinobi to deal with it.

The trip to the predetermined location (a venue offered by the Nara) went without a hitch; there were no bandits or woefully uninformed border patrol. They reached their negotiation venue a few hours ahead of schedule but only thirty minutes before the Senju delegation.

It seems like Butsuma had a similar idea; he brought his two remaining children (because he didn’t get a new spouse; take that, you soggy bundle of scrolls!) two other clan members who watched from a distance.

They went up to the round table, said their necessary courtesy words, and started to discuss the potential timeline of debt collection.

(Sachiko and Ryugi suddenly charged like mad men, each aiming for a different heir. They seemed to rapidly decompose as black tar like ooz forced itself out of their bodies.

Minato took action.)

Chapter Text

The three months Minato had spent as part of the Uchiha clan had been...beyond proper expression.

The sewing aunties were some of the best people he’d ever met; bright smiles, a down-to-earth attitude, and overall, the perfect concoction of traits formed into human vessels and given the important task of bringing light into this otherwise dreary world.

But alas, his inability to just sit still and enjoy their company won out after two weeks of concealed restlessness. He was honestly quite surprised when he was allowed to use the training grounds with no strings attached. But on second thought, perhaps he celibated too soon.

He didn’t think that his training habits would be considered extreme by these people; in a way, he thought that they used regimes of similar intensity, but after seeing poor Hikaku’s traumatised vestige, he had to reconsider his opinion on this time’s methods.

Sora from Med Bay had clearly been baffled by his insistence and reasoning. Her professional demeanour slipping off to reveal concern made Minato realise

How long had it been since someone worried for his well-being? How long had it been since he had been surrounded by such warmth and hospitality?

Years, the tail end of his first life to be exact; since then, he has been either surrounded by war, death, or isolation. It pulled at his heartstrings and made him remember...

(He noticed right away when Zetsu infiltrated the Uchiha compound, but he knew from experience that acting now wouldn’t solve anything.

his restlessness grew.)

Kagami awakened an instinct in him that he thought had been crushed. The child’s curiosity and endless energy reminded him a bit too much of his former student, his biggest failure. He wasn’t that good of a teacher back then; he didn’t understand what Obito needed to grow because he just couldn’t wrap his head around such a different case; Kakashi only needed an imitation of his own training; Rin needed gentle reassurance; but Obito-

He made the mistake of oversharing; he said too much in too short a timeframe, and he wasn’t ready to deal with the repercussions. So he fled and lost himself in helpless musings by the Naka.

When he looked upon the moon and sensed Madara approaching, he remembered the battlefield of the fourth war, the cocoons and Rennegan eyes, but most importantly, the moon under infinite Tsukuyomi.

How it shone red, how that version of Madara looked upon it in glee.

He was relieved when this Madara, who is now his step-son thought of a red moon as unnatural, this meant that Zetsu hadn’t infected him yet.

The irony was not lost on him. (He, the one who fathered the child of prophecy, now also held a parental tie to the main cause of his past world's madness and his students fall from grace.)

Enabling Kagami’s pranks was a way to let his inner chaos gremlin do its thing before things became serious again (he didn’t want a small-scale repeat of the Daimyo incident, nor did he think that it would be wise to mess with the sentient sewer slush lingering on the edge of his senses). Izuna joining the group had been a wonderful boon and the perfect opportunity to hand over the blame when they eventually got caught in the act.

And get caught they did, right after Minato just so happened to go on a water break. In his defence, he had to teach them one way or another that life wasn’t fair! Plus, the next week or so of glares had been a perfect distraction from a certain non-human mama's boy who just wouldn’t stop following him!

(Minato noticed right away when Zetsu infected one of the clan's less savoury individuals, but he couldn’t act yet, no matter how much he wanted to; it wasn’t the right time.

he couldn't stop fidgeting.)

Kuramas appearance had been welcomed with some apprehension; on the one hand, he needed to get all this tension out of his system, but on the other... Did he really want to mess with Sora from Med Bay again?

In the end, the answer was yes, he needed an outlet and the tired look and vow were wholly worth it.

(He noticed that when the two infected Uchiha passed away, the only thing that kept their bodies from rotting was Zetsu’s influence; he needed to think of something fast before more people were lost to that wretched creature.

why couldn't he just stay still?)

It seemed like the stars aligned when Tajima mentioned his plans to meet with the Senju; it was the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. This was the perfect way to enact his plan, and if all went well, the Senju delegation would view them favourably.

He didn’t even have to make any real preparations! The slimy sleaze ball mixed up the intended recipients for him.

When the time came, he was fully prepared to act. Like a bowstring pulled taunt, he rushed to activate his trap when the two infected Uchiha charged forward, making sure to push Tajima away from the crossfire. He slapped a seal down in the midpoint between two delegations, then he slapped a different set of seals (a crude imitation of six paths of power; he hoped the sage would be attentive enough to actually make these crude imitations into the real thing). Minato was able to coral the infected (now practically nothing but oozing bone) into the middle of the first seal, a perfected trap similar to Uzumaki adamantium chains, and then scream his orders.

"Madara, Hashirama." Both stood to attention after being addressed, likely caught off guard by the sudden chaos. "Attack the entity in the seal; it’s not human; its hosts have long gone." Luckily, they followed his orders, and luckily, the Sage actually took the memo this time and bestowed the two with the actual six paths of power needed to end the manipulative forbidden putty once and for all.

"Finally.." all the energy left Minato’s body as he slumped into himself. But he couldn’t celebrate just yet because everyone except for him was left very confused and yearning for answers.

Especially Tobirama, who seemed to be nigh impossible to get rid of, was unsatisfied with the explanations given to the others embroiled in this madness.

(Luckily, Madara decided to strike up a conversation with the younger Senju, effectively freeing Minato from his inquisitive grasp.)

Of course, Tajima and Butsuma were quite peeved about the second meeting Minato had derailed with a fight. (He got the second scolding of a lifetime while Madara long so subtley recorded it with the Sharingan, probably to show Izuna later.) But in the end, the initial negotiations were rescheduled for the evening as Minato took on the task of cleaning off the char left by the non-Newtonian asshole, which was not impossible but definitely annoying.

(Madara and Tobirama seemed to ‘click’ in a weird way, resulting in Hashirama whining and clinging like a monkey  to try and get their attention, only to get ignored in favour of a very enthralling conversation about bear skins.)

In the end, the issue of Minato’s payment plan was resolved, and a temporary truce was installed, lasting through the winter months ahead.

But one question still lay heavily on Minato’s mind as he was nearing the compound.

How was he going to explain the ashes?

Chapter Text

It started off slowly.

At first, the ceasefire was renewed when spring started sinking into the forest’s soil.

Then Tobirama and Minato started their ‘scholarly debates’, first through letters, then through visits, often ending in both enduring sleepless nights for the sake of science (Madara usually stumbled upon them first; he would say a few dry remarks, then haul Tobirama off to the guest chambers; this was usually followed up by Tajima bringing in a pot of tea and starting to speak about all he missed during the self-imposed seclusion).

This work schedule yielded many boons for both clans, from simple improvements to pre-existing techniques all the way to the forbidden. Tobirama was even able to create the Kage bunshin and flying raijin a few years before he was supposed to.

Minato was able to pay back the bothersome debt in the span of two years, and afterwards, taking time to smell the flowers became much easier.

It didn’t come to him naturally; stasis was never his preferred way to live, but those around him made it more bearable.

(Of course, his scuffles with Kurama helped stave off the edge of restlessness that would inevitably build up over time.)

The ceasefire turned into an alliance.

And the alliance turned into a village.

These transitions took place over the course of ten years, slowly maiming those with doubts into submission. By the time the village idea came up (which was two years before its original inception), all the naysayers were either dead or convinced that at the very least they wouldn’t be backstabbed.

Building a village took a lot more than the two star-struck fools (who were now clan heads) realised. Tobirama did most of the heavy lifting by doing most of the planning and paper work. Madara was there to make sure that the albino didn’t overwork himself, though those attempts mostly ended in failure.

As for politics? Well, Minato decided to prove once and for all that he could in fact handle himself in court, provided that someone was there to shut him up if he decided to step into Daimyo incident territory.

Hashirama got married to Uzumaki Mito; Tobirama and Madara followed soon after.

Both occasions were extravagant affairs, and though Tobirama demanded that his own ceremony be far more down to earth, Madara complied, expressing his hatred for social functions (but they all knew it was because he was a star-struck fool).

When Minato eventually reached his sixties, he honoured his vow to the Sora. Kurama was disappointed, but that soon dissipated into hope.

"In a few decades, when I am long gone, you will meet another, perhaps someone similar to me; whether his name and mine are the same is a matter of chance; all I can say for certain is that you, him, and a woman with hair redder than blood will get along wonderfully.

His time comes when he reaches the age of eighty-six; it was long, drawn out, and bittersweet. He’s surrounded by family, not tied to him by blood but family nonetheless.

Izuna and Kagami wept, while Madara, Tobirama, Mito, and Hashirama put on a brave face.

Tajima passed away years before.

*
Many years later, after the title of Hokage was taken over three times, an Omega boy was born, with blonde hair and blue eyes, a prostitute mother, and an alcoholic father. He has nothing—no name to call his own, no legacy to protect—just dreams too high to reach and an urge to keep moving forward.

Eventually he meets Uzumaki Kushina, an Alpha girl with a hot temper and beautiful, long red hair. The boy falls for her from the moment she walks into the academy classroom, one of the few chosen to study abroad. Afterwards, he gives himself an identity: Namikaze Minato, Harbour from Wind and Waves, an homage to the girl's motherland.

They start talking after she demands a reason for his staring.

"You have really nice hair" was the best response he could give.

When she dragged him along to visit ’Granny Mito', he silently complied.

He doesn’t know what to make of the old woman’s expression when he introduces himself to her, like something finally clicked and all the pieces fell into place, nor does he wish to question the excited yip from a fox that sits on the baloney; it’s a little too big to be normal, with far too much chakra to be a mere animal.

Many things change and some stay the same, but in the end, Namikaze (now technically Uzumaki) Minato just wants a few simple things in life: a home, a stable income, and a family. Luckily enough for him, those simple wants were easy enough to grant.

*

Namikaze (Uchiha?) Minato was many things throughout his relatively long life. Each phase had taught him something valuable.

You will never become anything if you hesitate to take action. But at times that action can lead to more harm than good; stagnation isn’t always a sign of weakness.

Mourning won’t wake the dead; don’t let it cloud your judgement. But it is okay to let go, to process all that you’ve been through, to reflect upon your life-threatening mistakes, and to learn from them.

Be thankful for every single little drop of good will that comes your way. But don’t be afraid to capitalise on it.

There can never be love without pain, but love doesn’t have to end with a bruise or a stab in the chest; it can end with a final bittersweet goodbye.

(He met Kushina in the purelands; they spoke, and Kushina laughed at his exploits.

"You always did have a knack for getting into trouble.")

Finally, he was at peace.