Chapter 1: Chapter 1: The Fox and the Brothers
Chapter Text
The night sky burned red. Smoke rose in great pillars above Konoha, and the ground shook with every furious step of the Nine-Tailed Fox. Its roar split the air, rattling the bones of even the bravest shinobi as walls crumbled and fire spread through the streets.
On the village outskirts, away from the worst of the chaos, a small clearing glowed with sealing marks etched across the earth. Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage, stood with his cloak whipping violently in the night wind, the kanji for “Hokage” scorched by embers flying through the air. His face was pale, jaw set tight—not from the threat looming behind him, but from the cries of the woman lying before him.
“Kushina, just a little longer,” Minato whispered, kneeling at her side.
Kushina’s fiery red hair was plastered to her sweat-soaked face. She clenched her teeth, arms wrapped around her swollen belly as the final stages of labor gripped her. The chains of her chakra, golden and glowing faintly against the darkness, lashed outward, struggling to keep the monstrous fox bound. But Kurama strained against them, its snarling form visible in the distance like a living nightmare.
“I… I can’t hold him much longer,” Kushina gasped, her voice ragged but fierce. Her eyes blazed despite her exhaustion. “We don’t have time, Minato—bring them out.”
Minato’s hands trembled only for a heartbeat before he steadied them. He formed the hand seals, pressing his palms gently over her belly. In a swirl of chakra, the cries of newborn life broke through the night. Not one, but two tiny voices.
The first child, with tufts of blond hair, wailed loudly, kicking with vigor. The second, hair shock-white under the moonlight, cried softer but sharper, eyes flashing crimson for a fleeting instant before closing again.
Kushina’s breath caught. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked at them—so fragile, so small, yet already carrying the burden of a monster’s power.
“Naruto…” she whispered, stroking the blond boy’s cheek with trembling fingers. “And Haruto…” Her touch lingered on the white-haired infant. “Our sons… our little suns and moons.”
Minato’s throat tightened. He wanted to hold them both, to keep them safe, but the ground shuddered again—Kurama roared, breaking through another chain. The fox’s killing intent pressed against them like a tidal wave.
“We don’t have time,” Minato said softly, though his voice carried the weight of finality. His gaze flicked from Kushina to the twins. “We’ll have to split Kurama’s chakra between them. It’s the only way.”
Kushina’s hand shot up, gripping his wrist weakly but firmly. “Then promise me… promise me they’ll never have to carry this alone.”
Minato’s eyes softened. “They won’t. Not as long as they have each other.”
He began the seals, chakra pouring from his fingertips. The Shinigami’s looming presence stirred in the air, shadows twisting like smoke. Kushina, despite the pain coursing through her, forced her chains tighter, dragging Kurama’s thrashing body closer.
“Come on, you damn fox…” she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice as fierce as any kunoichi’s battle cry.
The fox bellowed, hatred burning in its eyes as it lunged. The sealing circle lit up beneath Minato, and the cries of the twins grew louder, piercing through the night as if to answer the monster’s rage.
The sealing marks blazed with blinding light, lines of chakra etching themselves into the earth like molten veins. The Shinigami’s silhouette loomed at Minato’s back, its faceless head bowed, blade glinting with an otherworldly gleam.
Kushina’s chains dragged the Nine-Tails down, wrapping around its limbs like iron serpents. Kurama roared in defiance, its tails lashing wildly, leveling trees and shattering boulders.
“Minato!” Kushina’s voice cracked with strain, but her eyes never wavered. “Do it—split his chakra!”
Minato formed the last seal, his fingers trembling only for an instant before his expression hardened into steel. The Shinigami’s blade pierced through his chest, the pain searing, but he did not falter. He pressed his palm over Naruto first.
Glowing kanji spread across the blond infant’s belly, a spiral blooming into the Eight Trigrams Seal. Kurama’s chakra howled, torn from the fox’s colossal body, and funneled into the boy. The chakra flared golden, warm and burning with vitality—the yang half.
Naruto’s cries grew louder, sharper, as though his tiny lungs could carry the weight of the world.
Then Minato turned to the second child. Haruto’s pale hair clung to his damp forehead, his small fists clenched tight as though he already sensed what was coming. Minato’s voice broke for the first time.
“Forgive me, my son.”
The kanji spread across Haruto’s stomach, the seal glowing a cold, eerie blue. The rest of Kurama’s chakra—darker, heavier, a shadow of hatred—was forced into him. The yin half. Haruto’s cry was quieter than his brother’s, but filled with a piercing edge that cut through the storm. His eyes flickered open for an instant—deep crimson, reflecting the fox’s wrath—before slipping closed again.
The Nine-Tails thrashed, roaring in disbelief, its power ripped apart.
Kushina collapsed to her knees, sweat pouring down her face. Yet when she looked at her sons, her lips curved into a trembling smile. “Naruto… Haruto… you’re both so strong already.” Her voice softened into a whisper. “My precious boys…”
Kurama’s massive form strained against the last of her chakra chains. Its fanged maw split into a snarl, voice booming like thunder:
“FOOLS! Do you think splitting me in half will change anything? I will consume them both! They will be hated, shunned, treated as monsters—”
“Then they’ll prove you wrong,” Minato cut in sharply, his gaze like fire. He lifted his hand and pressed it to Naruto’s seal, then to Haruto’s. “They’ll grow strong—not because of you, but in spite of you. And they’ll carry on our will.”
The Shinigami’s grip tightened, dragging Kurama’s essence deeper into the infants’ bodies. Kushina’s chains flared, binding the last remnants of its chakra into place. The fox’s roar shook the heavens—then faded into silence, leaving only the cries of the twins in the clearing.
The seals dimmed, the glow fading into the spiral marks etched on the boys’ stomachs. Both bore three whisker-like marks on each cheek now, the permanent brand of their burden.
Minato swayed on his knees. His breath grew shallow, but he forced a smile as he looked at them one last time. “Naruto… Haruto… live. Protect each other. That’s all I ask.”
Kushina crawled closer, her body failing but her spirit blazing. She cupped their tiny faces with trembling hands, tears dripping onto their skin. “Don’t… don’t ever forget… how much we love you.”
The wind carried the last of her chakra chains away like fireflies scattering into the night. The Shinigami’s blade pulled deeper into Minato’s chest.
And as the Fourth Hokage and his wife fell side by side, the twins’ cries carried on—one bright and fierce, the other sharp and chilling. Two voices against the silence of death.
The clearing had fallen silent save for the crackle of fire in the distance and the echo of infant cries. The chains, the glowing seals, the oppressive weight of the Shinigami—all had faded into the night. Only the twins remained, swaddled in torn cloth, their small bodies trembling with life.
A rustle of robes swept into the clearing. The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, appeared, his staff clutched tightly in hand. His old eyes—so weathered, so heavy with decades of war—widened at the sight before him.
Minato and Kushina lay side by side, lifeless. The Fourth Hokage’s cloak was scorched, Kushina’s hair spread like a crimson river across the dirt. Their hands rested inches apart, as though reaching for each other even in death.
For a moment, Hiruzen could not move. He simply stood, the cries of the children piercing through his chest like blades. Then, slowly, he forced himself forward.
“Minato… Kushina…” His voice broke on their names. Kneeling, he bowed his head, the brim of his hat shadowing his face. He had buried too many comrades, too many friends—but this loss cut deeper.
He looked to the twins. One blond, blue eyes glimmering faintly beneath tears. One pale-haired, eyes flickering crimson before squeezing shut again. Identical save for those colors. Both bore the whisker marks of their burden.
Hiruzen’s hand trembled as he lifted them. They were warm, fragile, impossibly small compared to the weight already placed upon them. “Naruto… Haruto…” he murmured, his voice thick. “The legacy of your parents… and the burden of this village.”
The ground behind him shook with the approach of shinobi. An ANBU knelt at his side, mask tilted toward the twins. “Lord Third… is it true? The Fourth—he sealed the beast?”
Hiruzen’s jaw clenched. “He did. The Nine-Tails’ chakra has been split between them.” His gaze sharpened. “This knowledge must remain hidden. To the world, these children are simply the orphans of the Fourth Hokage. Nothing more.”
But the words came too late. Whispers had already spread. Shinobi exchanged wary glances. The whisker marks, the strange chakra radiating from the boys—these were signs too obvious to ignore.
By dawn, the village was already murmuring: the demons survived, but the Hokage and his wife did not.
Hiruzen returned to the village gates carrying both infants. The fires still smoldered, the wounded still cried out, but the villagers’ eyes fixed on the bundles in his arms. Some looked with pity. Others with fear. Many with quiet, festering hatred.
Hiruzen held the children tighter. His heart ached with the weight of the choice Minato had forced upon them. But he knew one thing with certainty: from this night forward, Naruto and Haruto would carry a burden heavier than any child should bear.
And it would be his duty, as Hokage, to shield them—though even as he told himself that, he felt the village’s cold gaze pressing in, like a storm already forming around the twins.
The orphanage sat on the edge of the village, its wooden frame creaking with age, its garden overgrown, its halls filled with the restless noise of children. To most, it was a refuge. To two small boys, it was a cage.
Naruto and Haruto slept in the same cot the first years of their lives, huddled close for warmth against the drafty nights. Naruto often kicked in his sleep, murmuring nonsense, while Haruto lay awake longer, eyes glowing faintly in the dark, listening to every whisper that seeped through the walls.
They heard the caretakers’ voices most nights.
“Keep them apart from the others.”
“They’re dangerous.”
“One smile and you forget what they really are.”
Naruto never understood. He toddled after the other children, eager to play, eager to belong. But doors shut in his face. Toys were snatched away. When he laughed, the caretakers flinched. When he cried, they scowled.
“Why don’t they like us?” he asked once, his little hands clutching Haruto’s sleeve.
Haruto said nothing at first. His red eyes studied the shadows where the caretakers whispered, the way their lips tightened when they looked at the twins. He had already begun to piece it together: whatever monster the villagers feared, they saw it in them.
“They’re scared of us,” Haruto finally muttered, his voice quiet but sharp. “Scared people do stupid things.”
Naruto frowned, not quite understanding, but the words stuck.
By the time they were four, the pattern was clear. The other children avoided them. Naruto chased after them anyway, shouting, “I’ll be Hokage someday! You’ll all see!” He puffed his chest out like a little rooster, defiant and stubborn.
Haruto, standing behind him, rarely spoke. He watched. He remembered every insult, every shove, every glare. Where Naruto’s spirit burned, Haruto’s sharpened into ice.
At night, they whispered to each other under their thin blanket.
“I’ll make everyone like us,” Naruto said, fists clenched tight. “I’ll be the best Hokage ever.”
Haruto rolled onto his back, staring at the cracked ceiling. His lips curled into the faintest smirk. “You’re an idiot, Naruto.”
Naruto bristled. “Hey—”
“But…” Haruto turned his head, crimson eyes glinting in the dark. “If that’s what you want, I’ll make sure no one stops you. Even if I have to cut them down.”
Naruto blinked, surprised, then grinned. “Heh. You better keep up then, little brother.”
Haruto smirked back. “I’m not the one always tripping over my own feet.”
For all the cold stares, for all the whispers of “demon” that followed them like shadows, the bond between them deepened. Two voices in the dark. Two halves of a burden no one else could understand.
And though the village turned its back, the twins began to lean on each other more fiercely than ever.
The market square buzzed with the usual afternoon noise: merchants shouting prices, the smell of grilled fish and roasted chestnuts drifting through the air. Naruto, tugging on Haruto’s sleeve, pointed toward the food stalls.
“Come on! Let’s get some dumplings! I’m starving!”
Haruto frowned. “We don’t have money.”
“Then we’ll just—uh—ask really nicely!” Naruto grinned and darted forward before his brother could stop him.
The stall keeper’s smile froze the moment Naruto approached. The man’s eyes flicked to the whisker marks on the boy’s cheeks, then to the pale-haired twin trailing behind him.
“Dumplings, please!” Naruto beamed, bouncing on his toes.
The man’s hand tightened on his ladle. “Get out of here.”
Naruto blinked. “Huh? But—”
“Out!” The stall keeper slammed the ladle against the counter, making the boy flinch. “You think I’ll feed demons? Not in my shop. Get lost before I throw you out myself.”
Other villagers paused to watch. Some whispered, others glared openly. Naruto’s grin faltered, his face reddening with confusion and hurt.
Haruto stepped forward, placing himself between Naruto and the stall keeper. His crimson eyes narrowed like a blade’s edge. “We weren’t begging,” he said flatly. “Keep your rotten food.”
He grabbed Naruto’s wrist and pulled him away. Naruto stumbled, glancing back, his fists balled at his sides. He wanted to shout something, anything—but no words came.
By evening, they were back in the orphanage yard. The other children huddled together, laughing and playing tag, but not a single one looked at them.
Naruto kicked at the dirt, his face twisted. “Why do they hate us? We didn’t do anything wrong!”
Haruto sat against the fence, his gaze cool and unreadable. “Because they don’t care what we did. They’ve already decided what we are.”
Naruto spun on him. “Then I’ll make them see! I’ll show them I’m not some stupid demon! I’ll become Hokage—better than the old man, better than anybody. Then they’ll have to respect us!”
The words hung in the air. Naruto’s eyes blazed with stubborn fire, as if daring the world to smother it.
Haruto watched him for a long moment, then let out a quiet scoff. “You’re an idiot.”
Naruto bristled. “Tch! I knew you’d say that—”
“But…” Haruto’s gaze softened just slightly. “If that’s really what you want, then I’ll make sure nothing stops you. You can chase their approval. I’ll be the one who makes sure you live long enough to get it.”
Naruto blinked. His anger cracked, replaced by a grin. “Heh. Then you better keep up, little brother.”
Haruto smirked faintly. “Try not to trip over your own feet first.”
The laughter between them was quiet, almost fragile, but real. In that small moment, the shadows of the village seemed less heavy.
But the hatred outside the fence never faded. It lingered in whispers, in glares, in the cold air that followed them everywhere. Two brothers against the village. Two burdens bound by blood and fate.
And two vows—one of fire, one of steel—beginning to take shape.
Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Sparks of Bond
Summary:
Summary: At the park, the twins first meet Hinata and Hanabi Hyūga when they intervene against bullies. The clash solidifies a budding connection. Later, a much darker encounter with a kidnapper awakens the twins’ hidden bloodline powers, drawing the eyes of the Hokage.
Chapter Text
The park was alive with laughter, the kind of laughter that never reached the Uzumaki twins. Children ran in circles, climbing trees, chasing each other across the grass. Parents watched from benches, chatting idly, their eyes drifting now and then—always narrowing when they landed on Naruto and Haruto.
Naruto didn’t notice, or pretended not to. His face split into a grin as he tugged Haruto along by the wrist. “Come on! We’re gonna play, too!”
Haruto’s red eyes flicked around, measuring the stares, the whispers. “They don’t want us here.”
Naruto shot him a stubborn look. “So what? I don’t care. If they won’t play with us, then we’ll just make ‘em.”
Before Haruto could argue, Naruto froze. Across the playground, four older boys had cornered two much younger girls near the slide. One girl had dark blue hair cut in a neat frame around her face, her pale eyes wide and trembling. The other—shorter, with twin buns and a sharper gaze—stood in front of her sister, fists balled, but her lip quivered.
The older boys sneered.
“Hey, Byakugan freaks—what’s the point of having fancy eyes if you can’t even fight?”
“Bet you two are useless like the rumors say.”
Naruto’s fists clenched. He didn’t think—he never thought. He just moved.
“HEY!” he shouted, charging forward. “Leave them alone!”
The bullies turned just as Naruto barreled into the biggest one, knocking him flat on his back.
“You little—!” another snarled, raising a fist—only for Haruto to step in, seizing the boy’s wrist. His voice was low, cutting, his crimson eyes boring into the older child.
“Try it,” Haruto said evenly. “See what happens.”
The bully’s bravado cracked. He yanked his arm free and stumbled back.
Meanwhile, Naruto scrambled to his feet, blood pumping with reckless energy. He swung wildly, missing half his punches but throwing himself into each one with raw stubbornness. Haruto was different—precise, controlled. Where Naruto was chaos, Haruto was calculation. Together, they overwhelmed the bullies in seconds.
Soon the older boys fled, muttering curses as they ran.
Naruto wiped his nose on his sleeve, puffing out his chest. “Hah! That’s what you get for picking on girls!”
Behind him, the pale-eyed sisters peeked out. The older one—Hinata—bowed her head quickly, voice small. “Th-thank you…”
Naruto turned to her, his grin wide and unguarded. “Don’t worry about it! I’m Naruto! I’ll always protect you—’cause I’m gonna be Hokage someday!”
Hinata’s cheeks warmed pink. She ducked her head further, fingers fidgeting together.
The younger one, Hanabi, tilted her head at Haruto. Unlike her timid sister, her stare was steady, curious. “You didn’t even look scared. Were you?”
Haruto brushed dust from his sleeve, not bothering to meet her eyes. “They weren’t worth being scared of.”
Hanabi smirked slightly. “Hn. You’re weird.”
Naruto blinked between them, then laughed loudly, throwing an arm around Haruto’s shoulder. “He’s not weird—he’s my brother! We’re the Uzumaki twins! Nobody messes with us!”
Haruto gave him a sidelong glare but didn’t shake him off.
The Hyūga sisters exchanged a glance—one shy, one intrigued—as the Uzumaki twins stood side by side, sunlight catching in their mismatched eyes.
For the first time, Naruto and Haruto hadn’t been shunned. They’d been… noticed.
Naruto bounced on his heels, dust still clinging to his orange shirt. “So! What’re your names?”
Hinata hesitated, fingers twisting the hem of her sleeve. Her pale eyes flicked toward Naruto, then dropped quickly to the ground. “…H-Hinata.”
Naruto grinned wider. “Hinata, huh? Nice name! Fits you!”
Hinata’s cheeks burned. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and mumbled something too soft to catch.
Next to her, Hanabi stood straighter, chin tilted in something almost like defiance. “I’m Hanabi. And you two… you’re from the orphanage, right?”
Naruto scratched the back of his head, still smiling. “Yeah. So what?”
Hanabi didn’t answer him. Her gaze fixed on Haruto instead, sharp and unblinking. “You fought like you knew exactly what you were doing. Do you train?”
Haruto met her stare without flinching, his crimson eyes cool. “I don’t waste time swinging like an idiot.”
Naruto gawked at him. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!”
Hanabi’s lips curled into a sly smirk. “He’s right though. You were flailing all over the place.”
Naruto sputtered, pointing at her, then at Haruto, then back again. “Tch—you two are the same!”
For a moment, Haruto almost smiled. Almost.
Hinata, meanwhile, peeked up again, her voice softer but firmer than before. “You… you really protected us. Th-thank you, Naruto-kun.”
The words hit him harder than any punch. Naruto blinked, his grin faltering just slightly—then returning, brighter than ever. “Heh. Don’t worry about it! I’ll protect you anytime!”
Hinata’s face went scarlet. She quickly looked away, pressing her hands together to hide her shaking fingers.
Behind her, Hanabi huffed. “We didn’t need saving. But… thanks, I guess.”
Haruto crossed his arms. “Next time, don’t let them corner you in the first place.”
Hanabi raised an eyebrow. “Hn. You talk like an old man.”
Naruto burst out laughing at that, doubling over. Haruto’s eye twitched, but he didn’t argue.
The tension in the air shifted—lighter now, warmer. For the first time, the Uzumaki twins weren’t surrounded by cold stares or muttered slurs. Instead, they stood across from two girls who looked at them differently: one with shy admiration, the other with curious challenge.
It was a small moment, but one that would linger.
The Hyūga sisters left soon after, guided away by a caretaker from their clan. Yet as they glanced back, both pairs of pale eyes stayed on the twins—one flustered, one intrigued.
And Naruto, still grinning, whispered under his breath, “Told you we’d make friends.”
Haruto didn’t answer, but for once, he didn’t deny it.
The night was cold. Too cold for two four-year-olds barefoot in the grass, their only blankets the ragged shirts on their backs. The orphanage door had slammed shut hours ago, and no matter how hard Naruto pounded on it, no one came.
“They’re not letting us back in,” Haruto muttered finally, his voice flat, but his red eyes shimmered in the moonlight.
Naruto stood stiff, fists balled, his whiskered cheeks wet. “Tch… who needs them anyway? We’ll… we’ll find someplace better! You’ll see!”
He dragged Haruto with him, into the trees beyond the village edge. The forest was quiet, save for the chorus of cicadas and the occasional owl’s hoot. The deeper they went, the darker it grew, the moonlight barely piercing the canopy.
And then—movement.
Both boys froze.
Through the underbrush, a tall, dark-skinned man trudged slowly along a narrow trail, two heavy sacks slung over his shoulders. The sacks shifted unnaturally, twitching, wriggling.
Naruto’s breath caught. His small fists tightened. “Haruto—there’s kids in there.”
Haruto’s stomach twisted. He wanted to dismiss it, to come up with another explanation—firewood, food, anything. But then, one of the sacks jolted hard, and a muffled whimper leaked out.
It was enough.
“HEY!” Naruto shouted, his voice cracking in the night. He broke into a sprint, crashing through branches and roots without hesitation. “Put them down, right now!”
“Idiot!” Haruto hissed, but he ran too, his heart pounding against his ribs.
The man stopped. Slowly, he turned, his face half-shadowed by the moonlight. His eyes glinted darkly as his lips curled into a grin that made Haruto’s skin crawl.
“What do we have here?” he said, his voice oily, low. “Two little rats wandering the woods at night?”
Naruto planted his feet, legs trembling but his glare fierce. “Let. Them. Go!”
The man’s grin widened. The sacks shifted again, a weak cry spilling out this time. He adjusted his grip casually, as if the lives inside weighed no more than firewood.
Haruto’s fingers twitched. His instincts screamed at him to pull Naruto back, to hide, to wait. But his brother’s voice cut sharp through the night:
“You’re not taking anyone else!”
And then Naruto lunged—reckless, furious, a flash of orange and whisker-marked determination.
Haruto clenched his jaw and followed, because no matter how dangerous this man was, there was one thing Haruto knew with certainty:
He’d never let Naruto face him alone.
The man didn’t move at first. He just watched them with that lazy grin, shifting the sacks on his shoulders. Moonlight gleamed off the beads of sweat trickling down Naruto’s temple, but he didn’t back down. Neither did Haruto.
“Tch,” the man finally said, voice heavy with mockery. “Little pests. Brave, but pests all the same.”
He stepped forward, slow, deliberate. “But noisy pests attract attention.” His eyes flicked toward the trees, scanning the shadows. “And I don’t have time for that.”
Naruto bared his teeth. “We’re not pests! Let them go!”
The jōnin chuckled, then in a blur, dropped one sack to the ground and flickered forward, moving faster than either boy’s eyes could follow. He reappeared in front of Naruto, kunai flashing down toward the boy’s small chest.
Naruto froze.
“No—!”
Haruto’s scream ripped through the night. His body moved before his mind did, hands thrust forward. Something inside him snapped, raw and wild. The air itself seemed to bend, the damp night thickening. And then—
A crashing wave of water surged out from nowhere, exploding against the jōnin’s side.
The man grunted, thrown off-balance, his kunai carving harmlessly into the dirt as Naruto tumbled backward.
Both boys stared, wide-eyed. Water dripped from Haruto’s trembling hands, pooling at his feet where there had been none before.
The man’s grin faltered for the first time. He straightened, water dripping from his arm, and his eyes gleamed with something colder now. “…Interesting. So the little rat has claws.”
He tossed aside the second sack, his body blurring again as he lunged—not for Naruto this time, but for Haruto.
Haruto’s body locked. His legs refused to move. The jōnin’s shadow swallowed him whole, kunai raised high, a killing stroke descending—
“NOOO!”
Naruto’s voice cracked, shrill and desperate. His tiny hands slapped together, not in any practiced seal but pure instinct. His feet rooted to the ground, and the earth itself seemed to shudder.
With a sickening crack, thick wooden spikes erupted upward, bursting through soil and stone. They speared the jōnin mid-leap, impaling him through chest and limbs, lifting his body into the air like a grotesque puppet.
The man’s eyes went wide, blood bubbling at his lips. His body twitched once—twice—before falling limp against the wooden spears.
Silence swallowed the clearing.
Naruto’s breath came in ragged gasps, tears streaking his whiskered cheeks. His small hands shook violently, still pressed together. Haruto stood frozen, staring at the water dripping from his fingers, at the corpse hanging grotesquely before them.
For a long moment, neither boy moved.
Then a weak, muffled sob came from one of the sacks.
The spell broke.
Naruto stumbled forward, ripping the sack open with trembling fingers. Pale eyes blinked up at him, wide with fear and tears—Hinata. She fell into his arms instantly, clutching his shirt as if he were the only thing keeping her tethered to the world.
Beside her, Haruto tore into the second sack. Hanabi tumbled free, coughing, her eyes darting wildly before locking on him. She didn’t cry—she scowled, though her lip trembled, and she grabbed onto Haruto’s wrist with a grip far too tight for a four-year-old.
The twins held them there, four small children huddled in the shadow of death, the wooden spears groaning in the night breeze.
And for the first time, Naruto and Haruto realized—they weren’t just outcasts anymore. They were dangerous.
The clearing was quiet except for the ragged breaths of four small children. Naruto clutched Hinata as though letting go would undo everything he’d just done, while Haruto crouched beside him, Hanabi gripping his wrist so tightly her nails dug into his skin.
The impaled body of the Kumo jōnin creaked against the wooden spikes, the coppery scent of blood heavy in the night air.
“B-Brother…” Haruto’s voice cracked, crimson eyes locked on the grotesque silhouette. “What… what did you—”
Before Naruto could answer, a rush of chakra flared nearby.
Leaves rustled. The ground trembled faintly under a fast, deliberate stride.
And then a stern voice cut through the clearing:
“HINATA! HANABI!”
Both girls’ heads snapped up. In the next heartbeat, Hyūga Hiashi burst into the clearing, pale eyes blazing with Byakugan. His gaze swept the scene with frightening speed—the corpse skewered on unnatural wooden spires, his daughters clutched protectively in the arms of the village’s twin jinchūriki, and the raw chakra still radiating faintly from the boys.
Hinata whimpered softly against Naruto’s chest. Hanabi stiffened at Haruto’s side, her grip loosening.
“Father!” they cried in unison.
Hiashi’s jaw clenched. He had no prejudice against the Uzumaki twins—Hyuuga dignity did not allow for such blind hatred—but seeing his daughters nestled so close in the arms of strange boys, jinchūriki or not, roused an unfamiliar fire in his chest.
Still, he didn’t hesitate. His voice sharpened. “Come here. Now.”
Hinata and Hanabi broke free, dashing toward him with unsteady steps. For once, Hiashi didn’t scold, didn’t lecture, didn’t remind them of proper Hyūga composure. When his arms closed around them, the mask of the clan head cracked. He dropped to one knee, clutching both girls tightly to his chest.
For a moment, the cold, formal Hyūga patriarch was gone. There was only a father, trembling, whispering their names like a prayer.
Naruto and Haruto stared, wide-eyed, a pang of something unfamiliar twisting in their chests.
The moment didn’t last. Another surge of chakra rolled through the clearing—heavier, older, commanding.
Hiashi’s head snapped up as Hiruzen Sarutobi stepped into the moonlight, flanked by masked ANBU. The Hokage’s eyes swept the scene once, twice, and then lingered on the impossible sight before him: the wooden spikes still jutting from the ground, glistening red, and the lifeless body of a Cloud shinobi skewered upon them.
For the first time in years, Hiruzen’s composure wavered.
Behind him, even the ANBU shifted uncomfortably, their blank masks betraying nothing but their silence speaking volumes.
Naruto swallowed hard, his small hands still trembling. Haruto’s crimson eyes darted from the Hokage to the corpse, then back to Naruto, guilt and pride warring in his chest.
Hiashi rose smoothly, both daughters still pressed close to his sides. His face was once more the mask of a clan head, though his hands lingered protectively on his daughters’ shoulders.
“Hokage-sama,” Hiashi said, his voice cool but steady.
Hiruzen inhaled slowly, drawing the pipe from his sleeve though he didn’t light it. His mind raced—Cloud shinobi, dead on Konoha soil, at the hands of children… not just any children, but the jinchūriki. If word of this spread…
His decision was swift.
“Hiashi,” Hiruzen said firmly, his tone leaving no room for debate, “take your daughters home. Now. Once they are safe, come to the Hokage Tower. We will speak at length.”
Hiashi’s pale eyes narrowed slightly. For a moment, he looked as though he might argue. Then he gave a short nod. “As you command.”
He turned, gently ushering his daughters toward the shadows of the forest path. Hinata glanced back once, her small hand reaching weakly toward Naruto. Hanabi twisted in her father’s grip too, her red-rimmed eyes lingering on Haruto, lips parting as if to speak. But then Hiashi’s arms tightened, and both girls disappeared into the night with him.
The silence that followed was crushing.
Hiruzen finally turned, his old eyes hard. “Take the twins to the Tower,” he ordered, his voice clipped. Two ANBU stepped forward instantly, their presence a cold weight as they flanked Naruto and Haruto.
The boys stiffened. Naruto opened his mouth, fear and defiance flashing in his eyes. But Haruto’s small hand shot out, gripping his brother’s sleeve, shaking his head ever so slightly.
The Hokage’s gaze softened—just for a heartbeat—as he looked at them. “No harm will come to you,” he said quietly, words meant only for their ears. “But this must be handled carefully.”
Then, louder, to the remaining ANBU: “Erase this scene. Not a trace. No word of this leaves this forest.”
The masked shinobi bowed silently before moving to obey, their chakra flickering as they began their grim work.
Naruto and Haruto were guided forward, the forest swallowing the wooden spikes, the blood, and the corpse behind them.
But neither boy looked away.
Not until the clearing—and the secrets buried within it—vanished into the darkness.
Chapter 3: Chapter 3: Secrets of Blood
Summary:
Summary: Hiruzen questions the twins about what happened. Naruto’s chaotic retelling, complete with sound effects, clashes with Haruto’s cooler narration. Their banter stirs memories of Hashirama and Tobirama.
Chapter Text
The Hokage’s office smelled of ink and old smoke. Stacks of scrolls lined the walls, casting long shadows in the dim lamplight. Outside, the village slept, but here—behind paper screens and silent ANBU stationed in the rafters—the air was taut with unease.
On the far side of the desk, two small figures sat stiffly in high-backed chairs far too large for them. Naruto swung his legs restlessly, kicking the wood with faint thuds. Haruto sat still, arms folded tightly, his red eyes fixed on the desk as though staring into it might erase the memory of blood and splintered wood.
Hiruzen leaned forward, fingers steepled beneath his chin. His gaze softened despite the grim circumstances. “Tell me, boys,” he said, his voice calm but weighted, “what happened tonight in the forest?”
Naruto shot upright as though the words had been a starting gun. “Okay, so! So there was this creepy guy, right? He was huge—like taller than three Hokage Monuments stacked on top of each other!” He flung his arms wide, nearly knocking over the inkstone. “And he was carrying these bags that were going all ‘wiggle wiggle wiggle!’—” He wriggled his whole body in his chair, making squeaky noises. “And then I jumped in front of him like—‘HEY! PUT THEM DOWN, JERK!’”
Naruto leapt up onto his chair, pantomiming punches in the air. “And then he was like—‘GRR, I’M GONNA EAT YOU!’—and I was like—‘HAH, TAKE THIS!’” He made a swooshing noise with his mouth, flailing his arms like a whirlwind.
Haruto pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning audibly. “You sound like an idiot.”
“I do not! That’s how it happened!”
“No, it’s not. He didn’t say anything about eating you.” Haruto’s tone was flat, but a faint flush of irritation colored his cheeks. “And he wasn’t taller than three Hokage Monuments. He was barely taller than the orphanage matron.”
Naruto spun on him, pointing dramatically. “You were too busy being scared to notice!”
Haruto’s red eyes flared. “I wasn’t scared. I was thinking. Which is what you’re supposed to do before charging at someone with sacks full of hostages.”
“Thinking doesn’t save people! Punching does!” Naruto declared, jabbing his fist in the air.
“It does if you don’t get stabbed in the process, moron.”
The room filled with their bickering—“blockhead!” “ice cube!” “stupid whisker-face!” "How is that an insult? we both have whisker-face"—until the Hokage chuckled, the sound low and warm.
Both boys froze mid-insult, blinking at him.
Hiruzen leaned back, eyes half-closed, though his mind was far away. The scene before him blurred into memory: Hashirama bumbling with reckless enthusiasm, Tobirama’s cool scowl beside him, their arguments loud enough to shake the training grounds.
And now here they were again, reborn in smaller frames.
The pipe in his hand remained unlit, forgotten. His eyes narrowed slightly, studying the younger twin. Haruto’s posture, his sharp tongue, his measured disdain for Naruto’s recklessness—it was almost too familiar.
He made a decision. A gamble.
“Haruto,” Hiruzen said gently, as though coaxing the boy’s attention. “Why don’t you tell me what happened? From the beginning.”
Naruto whipped around to him, jaw dropping. “Wha—?! Why him?!”
“Because,” the Hokage replied smoothly, “he seems to have paid closer attention.”
Naruto slumped back into his chair with a huff, arms crossed tightly. “Tch. Whatever. Let boring-face do it.”
Haruto shot him a sidelong glare but didn’t rise to the bait. His lips pressed thin before he turned back to the Hokage, voice steady.
“We were kicked out of the orphanage,” Haruto began, his tone flat but precise, like he was piecing together a puzzle. “So we walked into the forest. That’s when we saw the man—he had sacks, and something inside them was moving. Naruto rushed him without thinking.” His fists clenched faintly in his lap. “When the man tried to kill him, I… I don’t know what I did. I just thought I didn’t want him to die. Then there was water everywhere. It hit the man and knocked him back.”
Haruto’s throat worked as he swallowed. “Then the man came for me. Naruto clapped his hands and the ground… broke. Wooden spikes came out and… killed him.”
The boy’s voice faltered slightly at the end, but he didn’t look away.
The room went still.
Naruto fidgeted, half-proud, half-nervous under the weight of Haruto’s words. Haruto stared down at his knees, his red eyes dark with something like shame—or perhaps fear of what they’d done.
And Hiruzen… sat very still. His chest rose and fell slowly, but inside his heart pounded. Water manipulation, without hand seals… and Wood Release, instinctive and deadly.
He saw Hashirama’s laughter. Tobirama’s calculating gaze. Two shadows of the past seated before him, tangled together in destiny.
The Hokage’s silence stretched long after Haruto finished. The lamplight flickered in the stillness, shadows dancing across his weathered face.
Naruto leaned forward on the desk, restless. “So… are we in trouble?”
Haruto didn’t move, didn’t blink. His small fists were clenched so tightly in his lap that his knuckles blanched. He hadn’t dared to look at the wooden spikes, or the man impaled on them, since the moment it happened.
Hiruzen finally exhaled, the sound heavy with age. He leaned back in his chair, eyes hooded but sharp. “No,” he said softly, “you are not in trouble.”
Naruto let out a loud sigh of relief and flopped back into his chair with a grin. “See? Told you we were awesome!”
“Idiot,” Haruto muttered.
But the Hokage wasn’t smiling. Inside, his mind churned. Wood Release. The words rang in his skull like temple bells. Not a mimicry, not a weak imitation, but true Wood Release—born without training, without knowledge, in the heat of desperation.
That power belonged to one man in history. Hashirama Senju.
And now… to a boy who carried the blood of Uzumaki and Namikaze.
Hiruzen’s fingers curled around his pipe, though he didn’t light it. His gaze flicked between the twins. Haruto—already showing affinity for water manipulation, his sharp mind and colder temperament an echo of Tobirama. And Naruto—reckless, hot-blooded, awakening the impossible.
“Interesting,” he murmured, almost to himself.
Haruto’s eyes narrowed faintly. “What’s interesting?”
Hiruzen gave a small smile, the kind that revealed nothing. “You’ve both shown… unusual abilities. Talents that set you apart.”
Naruto puffed his chest. “Yeah, ‘cause we’re awesome!”
But Haruto’s frown deepened. “What kind of talents?”
The Hokage’s gaze lingered on him, weighing honesty against secrecy. They were only four. Too young to understand what their powers meant. And if word of this spread—if the other villages learned Konoha had two living weapons growing inside its walls—then tonight’s skirmish would look like child’s play compared to the storm that would come.
His tone hardened. “For now, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you both survived. And that no one else can know of what happened tonight. Not the details.”
Naruto tilted his head. “So… like a secret?”
Hiruzen’s eyes sharpened, his authority settling over the room like a mantle. “Yes. A secret you must guard with your lives. Do you understand?”
The boys exchanged a glance. Naruto scratched his cheek. “I guess…? But why?”
“Because if others learn of what you can do,” Hiruzen said, voice grave, “they may try to take you away. To use you.”
That silenced them. Naruto’s bravado dimmed into unease. Haruto stiffened, his small shoulders tight as wire.
The Hokage softened his voice. “I will not allow that to happen. But you must trust me—and keep this between us.”
For once, neither twin argued.
Hiruzen nodded, satisfied for now. He turned slightly, his voice low but firm. “ANBU.”
Two masked shadows appeared at his side, kneeling silently.
“You will see to it the remains in the forest are cleansed. No trace must remain. As far as anyone knows, the intruder was intercepted and eliminated by my forces before he could harm anyone. Is that clear?”
“Hai, Hokage-sama.”
They vanished as quickly as they had appeared.
Hiruzen leaned back, rubbing at his temple. His bones ached, his spirit heavier than ever. I must confirm this through records. If Minato was truly who he appeared to be…
His eyes fell back on the boys. Naruto was already distracted, doodling with an ink brush on the corner of the desk. Haruto sat upright, eyes sharp, watching every flicker of Hiruzen’s expression.
So young. Too young. And yet, their shadows stretched back into history itself.
They were children. Barely four. Yet the weight of what had awakened in them tonight could tip the balance of nations.
“Enough for now,” Hiruzen said at last, his voice softer, though firm with finality. “You’ve done more than any child should have to. You need rest.”
Naruto perked up instantly. “So we can go?”
“You may,” Hiruzen said. “But not back to the orphanage.”
Both boys blinked.
“I will arrange temporary quarters for you, secure and private,” he continued. “Somewhere safe. Tomorrow, we will speak again.”
Naruto tilted his head. “Like a new home?”
“Something like that,” Hiruzen allowed, his gaze gentling.
Naruto broke into a grin. “Heh, bet it’s better than the stupid orphanage!”
Haruto gave him a sharp look. “Shut up, Naruto.”
Hiruzen almost smiled, a faint tug at the corner of his lips. For a heartbeat, it was as if Hashirama and Tobirama themselves sat before him again, bickering like the children they once were.
But the moment passed. He clapped his hands softly, summoning an ANBU from the shadows.
“Escort them to the prepared quarters,” he ordered. “No one is to know where they are housed. Keep a guard detail at a distance, unseen.”
“Hai, Hokage-sama.”
The ANBU moved to guide the boys. Naruto hopped to his feet eagerly, tugging on Haruto’s sleeve. Haruto followed more slowly, his gaze lingering on the Hokage’s face as though trying to pry free the secrets hiding behind his eyes.
When the door closed behind them, the silence that settled was heavier than before.
Hiruzen leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing, mind already moving ahead. I must confirm this. Minato… who were you really?
His gaze drifted to the portrait of the First Hokage hanging on the wall, Hashirama’s easy smile frozen in paint.
“And now his shadow lives on,” Hiruzen murmured to himself. “And Tobirama’s as well.”
The pipe in his hand felt cold.
This would change everything.
The Hokage’s office was silent after the boys had gone. Only the rustle of paper broke the stillness as Hiruzen spread open the archives on his desk.
Naruto’s trees. Haruto’s water. So raw, so instinctive. They were only four years old, yet they had manifested techniques most grown shinobi could never dream of.
Wood Release. Water Release. And their mannerisms… it’s almost as though Hashirama and Tobirama live again.
His pipe lay forgotten at his side as he combed through the orphanage and clan records. Minato Namikaze’s entry appeared as it always had: an orphan of unknown parentage, adopted into Konoha, graduated the Academy at a young age, rose to become Hokage. No names listed for parents. No clan affiliation. A void where a history should be.
That void had never troubled him before. But now…
Hiruzen frowned. “No ordinary orphan could pass such gifts on to his children.”
The Order
He rose and summoned an ANBU. “Fetch the medical division chief. I want a genealogy test run immediately.”
The masked shinobi bowed. “Of whom, Hokage-sama?”
“Of Minato Namikaze,” Hiruzen said grimly. “Use his archived DNA sample. Cross-reference it against every Senju record in storage. Old and new. Look for any viable parentage match.”
The ANBU inclined his head once and disappeared.
Hiruzen sank back into his chair, fingers steepled. If his suspicions were right, Minato was more than an orphan. Much more.
The Summons
He could not wait idly. Another ANBU appeared as if sensing his thoughts.
“Bring me the toad scroll,” Hiruzen commanded.
Moments later, the sealing scroll was unfurled on his desk. A small puff of smoke revealed one of Jiraiya’s toads—plump, squat, and blinking sleepily at the Hokage.
“Gamahiro at your service,” the little toad croaked. “What’s the emergency?”
Hiruzen leaned forward. “Deliver this message to Jiraiya at once.”
He penned it quickly:
Jiraiya. Return to the village immediately, or failing that, locate Tsunade and bring her back by any means necessary. The matter concerns family—hers, and Minato’s. Do not delay.
He rolled the parchment and tied it, sealing it with the Hokage’s mark. The toad swallowed it whole with a gulp.
“You can count on me, old man!” Gamahiro said before vanishing in another puff of smoke.
Hiruzen exhaled slowly. That part, at least, was in motion.
The Results
Hours later, just as dawn began to bleed pale light into the sky, the ANBU returned carrying a sealed folder. He bowed low, setting it on Hiruzen’s desk.
“The genealogy results, Hokage-sama.”
Hiruzen broke the seal with careful fingers and scanned the report.
The name that leapt out made his breath catch.
Nawaki Senju — 99% paternal match.
And below it, another.
Tsunade Senju — close genetic relation, percentage consistent with aunt, uncle, or grandparent.
Hiruzen closed the folder slowly, the weight of it pressing heavier than any blade.
So it was true. Minato was no nameless orphan. He was Nawaki’s son. And that made the twins direct descendants of both the Uzumaki and Senju lines—the perfect storm of power and legacy.
He turned once more to the portraits of the First and Second Hokage. Hashirama’s warm smile, Tobirama’s stern eyes.
And now their will resurfaces in these boys. If we are careless, the world will burn to claim them.
Hiruzen’s jaw tightened. “Tsunade… it must be you. Only you can guide them.”
He closed his eyes, listening to the distant stir of the waking village. The storm had begun.
The new quarters were small but clean—two futons laid out neatly side by side, a low table with fresh tatami beneath. To Naruto, it was a palace compared to the orphanage.
He flopped onto his futon, arms wide. “This is awesome! Way better than the dumb orphanage.”
Haruto sat neatly on his own futon, red eyes scanning the corners of the room with a sharpness that looked out of place on a child’s face. “Don’t be stupid. It’s temporary. Don’t get comfortable.”
Naruto shot him a grin. “Temporary can still be nice.”
Haruto sighed. “Idiot.”
A soft knock at the sliding door broke their bickering.
Naruto scrambled up immediately. “Who’s that?”
The door slid open, revealing a tall, graceful woman with pale lavender eyes, her long dark hair tied back with a ribbon. Two small girls peeked from behind her kimono—identical faces, one half-hidden shyly, the other glaring as though daring the room to challenge her.
“I am Hyūga Hitomi,” the woman said warmly, bowing slightly. “Might we come in?”
Naruto’s grin widened. “The girls!”
Hinata ducked behind her mother’s sleeve, face pink, while Hanabi stepped forward half a step, arms crossed, chin high.
Haruto rose more slowly, bowing politely. “Please… come in.”
Hitomi entered with her daughters, settling at the low table. She studied the boys for a long moment.
Her breath caught.
On Naruto’s face, she saw Kushina’s unyielding spirit, that same brightness that filled a room. And in Haruto, she saw Minato—quiet, calculating, his sharp eyes weighing everything before him. Together, the twins were a living reflection of her two old friends.
Oh, Kushina… I see you in him. And Minato, I see you in the other. How cruel, that neither of you lived to guide them.
Her daughters crept closer. Hinata sat hesitantly beside Naruto, hands twisting nervously in her lap. Hanabi dropped cross-legged beside Haruto, pointedly avoiding his gaze, though her cheeks were pink with the effort.
Naruto leaned toward Hinata. “Hey! You came to see us? That’s awesome!”
Hinata squeaked something unintelligible, her face redder than ever.
Naruto tilted his head. “Huh? What?”
Hanabi rolled her eyes, muttering, “Idiot.”
Haruto glanced at her sidelong. “…You and Naruto will get along.”
Hanabi puffed her cheeks. “Tch!”
Naruto laughed. “See, even Haruto thinks I’m great!”
Hinata giggled before quickly covering her mouth with her hands.
Hitomi watched quietly, her heart tightening. She remembered the day Kushina died, the chaos that followed. She had been heavy with her own pregnancy, bound by her clan and her failing strength, unable to take the twins in. That guilt had never left her.
Now, watching Hinata’s shy smile toward Naruto and Hanabi’s fierce energy beside Haruto, she understood. Her daughters’ hearts were already choosing.
So be it. If I could not give them a mother when they were babes, then through my daughters, I will give them family. Kushina, Minato… I will not let your sons be alone.
Outwardly, she only smiled gently. “You boys did something very brave. You protected my daughters when I could not. For that, I am grateful.”
Naruto scratched the back of his head, beaming. “Aw, it was nothing! We couldn’t just let them get hurt.”
Haruto’s voice was cool, steady. “It wasn’t nothing. It nearly killed us.”
Hanabi stole a glance at him, then looked away quickly.
Hitomi rose at last, smoothing her kimono. “We should let you rest. Come, girls.”
Hinata hesitated, glancing once more at Naruto before shuffling back to her mother’s side. Hanabi followed, though her gaze flicked at Haruto, sharp with something unspoken.
Hitomi bowed. “Sleep well, boys. Tomorrow… will change much.”
And then they were gone.
Naruto collapsed back onto his futon, arms wide. “They like us!”
Haruto lay back more slowly, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “And you like them.”
Naruto grinned. “So? Maybe that’s a good thing.”
Haruto didn’t answer. His thoughts lingered instead on a girl with sharp eyes and a scowl too big for her small face.
For the first time that night, the corner of his lips twitched upward.
The office was still, the silence pressing like a weight. The faint glow of a single lantern lit the desk where Hiruzen Sarutobi sat, the genealogy results lying open before him.
Nawaki Senju — 99% paternal match.
Tsunade Senju — close relative, aunt-level match.
Hiruzen’s jaw tightened. There was no denying it now—Minato Namikaze had been Nawaki’s son, hidden by chance and tragedy.
The old Hokage leaned back, eyes drifting toward the portraits that lined the wall. Hashirama’s smile, Tobirama’s stern gaze, Minato’s quiet resolve. For a moment, the candlelight seemed to blur their faces into something new, something alive.
He saw Naruto’s grin, reckless and full of warmth—Hashirama’s energy made flesh again. He saw Haruto’s cool eyes, sharp and watchful, Tobirama’s very presence echoing in the boy. And beneath them both, Minato’s composure and Kushina’s fire.
Hiruzen exhaled heavily. “They aren’t just children… they are the convergence of legacies.”
The old man turned to the window. The village outside was dark, rooftops glimmering faintly beneath the moonlight. Somewhere among them, two boys slept restlessly under ANBU watch, unaware of the storm of history gathering above their heads.
If the council discovers too soon… if the clans catch wind of what they carry… they’ll stop being children and start being weapons.
His fists clenched against the desk. “No. I won’t allow that.”
They needed protection, guidance—someone strong enough to raise them as more than vessels of power. Someone who understood both their heritage and their burdens. Someone who loved them.
His eyes softened, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his lips as he thought of one name.
“Tsunade… hurry back. Only you can do this.”
He closed the folder slowly, extinguished the lamp, and sat in darkness for a long moment. In his heart, he whispered to the dead:
“Minato… Kushina… I couldn’t save you. But I’ll protect your sons. That much, I promise.”
And with that vow, the Third Hokage rose, leaving the office in silence.
Chapter 4: Chapter 4: The Senju’s Legacy
Summary:
Summary: Tsunade returns to Konoha at Hiruzen’s summons. In his office, she learns the truth about the twins’ lineage and the powers they’ve awakened.
Chapter Text
The doors to the Hokage’s office swung open with a thud.
Tsunade Senju strode in, Shizune at her side, Tonton squealing softly from the younger woman’s arms. The faint smell of antiseptic and alcohol clung to Tsunade—remnants of sake and medicine, her armor against grief.
Her golden eyes swept the office, hard and guarded. “This had better be important, old man. Dragging me back here with Jiraiya’s nonsense—what, did you run out of healers?”
Behind the desk, Hiruzen Sarutobi exhaled, pipe forgotten at his side. “Tsunade,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of both authority and regret. “It’s about family.”
Her brow twitched. “Don’t,” she snapped, already bristling. “You know better than to—”
But he was already sliding a folder across the desk toward her. “Read.”
The paper was thick, the official stamp of the Hokage’s office pressed deep into its fibers. Shizune frowned but stayed silent as Tsunade flipped it open, eyes scanning the words with practiced detachment—until they froze.
Nawaki Senju — 99% paternal match.
Tsunade Senju — secondary genetic match, aunt-level relation.
Her throat constricted. “What is this?” she whispered.
“The results of a genealogy test,” Hiruzen said, voice low. “Conducted on Minato Namikaze’s DNA. He wasn’t a no-name orphan, Tsunade. He was Nawaki’s son. Your nephew.”
Her fingers trembled against the page, the composure she always wielded like steel cracking in an instant. “Nawaki…”
Hiruzen let the silence stretch before he continued, softer now. “And his children—Naruto and Haruto Uzumaki. Twins. Kushina’s sons. Your grandnephews.”
Tsunade’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “They’re alive?”
“Alive,” Hiruzen confirmed. “And far more than that. A few nights ago, they stumbled upon a Cloud shinobi attempting to kidnap the Hyūga heiresses. The man underestimated them—he paid for it with his life.”
Tsunade’s shock deepened. “Children? They’re barely out of the cradle. How could they—?”
“Because,” Hiruzen cut in, his tone grim, “Naruto awakened Wood Release. And Haruto, in his panic, instinctively drew water from the very air to repel the attacker. Together, they killed a jōnin of Kumogakure.”
The words landed heavy, echoing in the office.
Tsunade staggered back a step, the folder slipping from her hands onto the desk. Hashirama’s legacy… Tobirama’s bloodline… alive in two children abandoned to whispers and fear. And all this time, they were her family.
Hiruzen leaned forward, eyes kind but weary. “I thought you should hear it from me. The village doesn’t know yet. I’ll keep it that way for as long as I can. But Tsunade—these boys need more than a Hokage. They need family.”
Tsunade’s jaw clenched, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She had sworn never to let herself feel this way again—never to open that wound that Nawaki’s death left. And yet here it was, tearing wide open, flooding her chest with pain and something terrifyingly close to hope.
Shizune laid a hand gently on her arm. “Tsunade-sama…”
“You’re telling me…” Her voice was hoarse, like it had been dragged over gravel. She lifted her gaze, sharp and accusing. “You’re telling me those boys are Nawaki’s grandsons? That they’ve been in Konoha all this time—and you didn’t think I deserved to know?”
Hiruzen’s expression was unreadable, though his pipe remained untouched in its tray. “I did not know, Tsunade.”
“Don’t lie to me, Sensei!” she snapped, the word cutting like a kunai.
His eyes softened with regret. “I am not lying. I suspected nothing until the incident with the Hyūga twins. When Naruto awakened Wood Release—”
Tsunade’s breath hitched at the words.
“—I searched our records,” Hiruzen continued. “I had a genealogy test conducted, comparing Minato’s DNA against the Senju. The results revealed the truth. Nawaki was his father.”
The report crumpled slightly in her clenched fists. Tsunade staggered back a step as though struck, the fight draining from her shoulders. “All these years… all this time I thought I was the last. And they were here. Right here in Konoha.”
“Tsunade…”
She barked out a short, bitter laugh, though tears glimmered in her golden eyes. “Damn you, old man. Always keeping secrets, always thinking you know what’s best.”
He accepted the rebuke in silence.
Tsunade slammed the report down on the desk, her voice rising with sudden, fierce clarity. “Those boys are mine. Nawaki’s blood runs in their veins, and I won’t let them spend another day thinking they’re alone. I’ll take them, Sensei. I’ll raise them as Senju, as Uzumaki—as family. No council, no clan elder, no one is going to stop me.”
Her chest heaved, fists trembling at her sides. “I lost Dan. I lost Nawaki. But I will not lose them.”
For a long moment, Hiruzen studied her. Then, slowly, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I thought you might say that.”
Tsunade exhaled sharply, swiping the tears from her cheeks with the heel of her palm. “Then stop wasting my time, old man. Take me to them.”
The Hokage’s Anbu guard opened the creaking door to a modest, two-room apartment tucked away near the western edge of Konoha. It wasn’t much—bare tatami mats, a low table, thin futons folded against one wall—but it was warm, clean, and theirs.
Naruto was sprawled on the floor, humming loudly as he drew scribbles on scrap paper with a bit of charcoal. Haruto sat beside him, carefully arranging pebbles into deliberate patterns, his crimson eyes narrowed in concentration.
At the sound of the door, both boys turned.
Naruto jumped to his feet. “Old man Hokage! Did you bring snacks?”
Haruto frowned, immediately noticing Tsunade at Hiruzen’s side. “Who’s she?” His tone was guarded, his small shoulders stiff.
Tsunade’s breath caught. The moment her eyes landed on them, her heart lurched painfully. Two faces—so small, so familiar—staring at her with expressions that mirrored the past. Naruto’s grin echoed Hashirama’s warmth, while Haruto’s sharp gaze was Tobirama reborn. Yet beneath it all, they were Nawaki. Her baby brother. She was staring at him twice over, alive again in these boys.
Her vision blurred.
“Sensei…” she whispered hoarsely, clutching her chest.
Hiruzen gave her a small, solemn nod, stepping back to let her move forward.
Before she could think, Tsunade knelt on the tatami, reaching out with trembling hands. Her fingers brushed Naruto’s cheek, then Haruto’s. Both boys froze, bewildered.
“Nawaki…” Her voice cracked, tears spilling freely. “Kami, you look just like him…”
Naruto blinked, confused. “Uh—who’s Nawaki? And… why’re you crying?”
Haruto’s crimson eyes narrowed, suspicion hardening his features. “We don’t know you. Why are you here?”
Tsunade’s restraint crumbled. With a sob, she pulled them both into her arms, clutching their small frames against her chest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered desperately, over and over, her tears falling into their hair. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know I still had family. I should’ve been here. I should’ve been here for you…”
The boys stiffened. Naruto squirmed a little, caught between confusion and the strange comfort of her warmth. “Hey—lady—I don’t even know your name!”
Haruto’s voice was muffled against her shoulder, skeptical but less sharp now. “...You sound like you mean it.”
Tsunade leaned back just enough to meet their eyes. Her tears streaked her cheeks, but her gaze was fierce, burning with conviction. “My name is Tsunade Senju. I’m your family. Your grandmother. And I swear—I will never leave you again.”
The words crashed over them like a wave.
Naruto’s blue eyes went wide. “...For real? You mean you’re really our grandma?”
Haruto didn’t answer at once. His red eyes searched her face, looking for cracks, for deception—but all he saw was raw grief and love. Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned into her hold.
Naruto broke into a small grin. “...Guess that makes you Baa-chan!”
Tsunade let out a tearful laugh, pulling them both tighter against her. “Brat,” she muttered, voice shaking. “Just like your father.”
And in that fragile, messy embrace, something inside Tsunade—something she thought long dead—stirred back to life.
The Senju compound hadn’t been lived in for years. Dust caked the floorboards, weeds crept through cracks in the stone walkways, and ivy strangled the once-proud gates. It would take time before it felt like home again, and Hiruzen had already dispatched carpenters and cleaners.
Until then, Tsunade found herself spending every spare moment in the small apartment where her boys stayed.
On the first day, she brought food. Hearty miso soup, warm rice, grilled fish—nothing fancy, but it filled the air with the smell of family. Naruto’s eyes had nearly popped from his head.
“Whoa! Real food? Not that thin gruel they give at the orphanage?!” he exclaimed, grabbing bowls with both hands.
Haruto crossed his arms. “Don’t be rude, Naruto. You haven’t even said thank you.”
Naruto stuffed his cheeks before mumbling, “Fank yew!”
Tsunade chuckled, shaking her head. “Spitting image of Hashirama,” she muttered under her breath.
Over the next days, she watched them more closely. Naruto was a whirlwind of energy—loud, messy, and always chasing attention. He was quick to laugh, quicker to fight, and quicker still to sulk when he thought he was being ignored.
Haruto, in contrast, was sharp. He liked order, neatness, rules. He scolded Naruto constantly, as though trying to corral a storm with his tiny hands. He asked pointed questions—about jutsu, about bloodlines, about why the villagers whispered when they walked past.
One evening, after Naruto had fallen asleep in a pile of blankets, Haruto stayed awake. He sat by the paper window, red eyes glowing faintly in the lantern light.
“Why do you care so much about us?” he asked quietly.
Tsunade froze, her cup of tea halfway to her lips.
“People usually don’t,” Haruto added, his small voice steady.
Tsunade put the cup down. She crossed the tatami, kneeling beside him, her hand brushing over his white hair. “Because you’re mine,” she whispered. “My brother’s blood runs in you. And because…” Her throat tightened. “Because I should’ve been there sooner. I’ll never make that mistake again.”
Haruto didn’t answer right away. But when she looked down, she saw his little fist clutching the hem of her sleeve, refusing to let go.
The days passed like that. Small moments, quiet bonds. Naruto demanded piggyback rides until Tsunade’s back ached; Haruto challenged her to explain water manipulation, watching her hands with unblinking focus. Shizune would sometimes visit too, offering sweets and laughing at how naturally Tsunade slid into the role of caretaker.
By the end of the week, the boys no longer called her “that lady.” To Naruto, she was Baa-chan—sometimes shouted, sometimes whined, sometimes teased, but always with warmth. To Haruto, she was “Tsunade-sama,” but his sharp tongue softened when he said it, the title carrying quiet respect.
And though they still lived in that cramped little apartment, for the first time in their lives, the boys began to feel what it meant to belong.
The afternoon sun filtered through the sliding doors, warm and golden. Tsunade had just finished showing Naruto and Haruto how to shuffle a deck of cards—though Naruto kept insisting he was winning despite not understanding the rules—when a polite knock echoed from the entryway.
Shizune opened the door, her smile widening as she ushered in their guests.
“Hyūga-sama,” Shizune greeted warmly.
Hitomi Hyūga stepped inside with the grace of her clan, her pale lavender eyes carrying both serenity and quiet kindness. At her sides clung two small girls—Hinata and Hanabi, identical as reflections in water. Their gazes darted nervously around the room, only brightening when they spotted the twins.
“Naruto-kun! Haruto-kun!” Hinata chirped, her usual shyness breaking under the joy of seeing them. She darted forward, tiny hands tugging Naruto’s sleeve.
Naruto grinned, puffing out his chest. “Oi, Hinata! Did ya miss me? Heh, course you did!”
Hanabi, less restrained, marched up to Haruto and declared, “I’m going to beat you at tag today!”
Haruto raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. “You said that last time. And the time before that. And you lost every single time.”
Hanabi pouted, cheeks puffing. “That doesn’t count! You cheat!”
“I don’t cheat,” Haruto said flatly. “I’m just smarter than you.”
The two glared at each other, tiny sparks of rivalry in their eyes, before breaking into laughter.
Tsunade watched the scene quietly, her golden eyes softening. Hitomi, meanwhile, knelt near her daughters, adjusting their hair and smoothing their little kimonos. Yet her gaze lingered on the twins—Naruto’s wide grin, Haruto’s sharp stare. She bit her lip faintly, a flicker of something unreadable passing over her expression.
“You visit often,” Tsunade observed, her tone casual but probing.
Hitomi’s smile wavered before she exhaled. “I owed it to Kushina. She was… my closest friend. When the boys were born, I wanted to take them in. I begged Hiashi, but with the politics of the time—two jinchūriki, and the clan under constant scrutiny—it was impossible. I’ve carried that guilt for years.” Her eyes softened as she watched her daughters with the boys. “But now, when I see them together… I feel like maybe I can help them, through my girls.”
Tsunade’s throat tightened. She turned back to the children, who were now noisily arguing about who ran faster—Naruto or Hinata.
It hit her then. The way Hinata clung to Naruto, cheeks faintly pink. The way Hanabi refused to give Haruto any peace, tugging him into competition at every chance. She remembered another time, another pair. Kushina, blushing furiously as Minato offered his hand after saving her from kidnappers. Minato, flustered yet steadfast, promising to protect her.
History had a cruel way of repeating itself. But maybe… maybe it also repeated in blessings.
Tsunade smiled faintly, folding her arms beneath her chest. Kushina… your boys are finding people who love them already. Just like you did with Minato.
For the first time in years, the thought of the future didn’t fill her with dread—it filled her with a fragile, stubborn hope.
Chapter 5: Chapter 5: A Family Begins
Summary:
Summary: The abandoned Senju compound is restored, and Tsunade brings Naruto and Haruto there for the first time.
Chapter Text
The gates creaked open with a low groan, revealing the sprawling compound beyond. The Senju crest—faded but still proud—was carved deep into the wood, catching the afternoon light.
Naruto darted past before the gate even finished opening, his sandals slapping the stone path. “Woooahhh! This place is HUGE!” His voice echoed across the courtyard. He spun in circles, arms stretched wide, his grin so big it nearly split his face.
Haruto followed at a slower pace, red eyes scanning every detail—the moss clinging to stone lanterns, the paper doors freshly replaced, the long halls stretching into the distance. “It’s… old,” he muttered, though the faint reverence in his tone betrayed him.
Tsunade walked between them, her hands tucked into her sleeves. For the first time in years, her steps were hesitant. This place had been silent for too long. Once it had echoed with laughter, with the shouts of sparring cousins, with her grandfather’s booming voice. Now, only the wind rustled through the garden.
“Not bad, huh?” she said, masking her unease with a small smirk.
Naruto raced toward the koi pond in the courtyard, nearly tripping over the stepping stones. “Are you kidding?! It’s like… five orphanages stuck together! Can we really live here, Granny?”
Haruto’s brow twitched. “She’s not your granny.”
“She acts like one!” Naruto shot back without missing a beat.
Tsunade rapped her knuckles lightly on Naruto’s head as she passed. “Don’t push your luck, brat. And yes—you’ll live here now. Both of you. This is your home.”
The word hung in the air like a fragile glass ornament.
Haruto tilted his head slightly, his voice quieter. “Home…?” He let the syllable linger as though testing its weight.
Naruto didn’t hesitate—he pumped his fists in the air and shouted, “Yesss! Our own house!” He turned to his brother, tugging his sleeve. “C’mon, Haru, don’t be all gloomy. We’ve got a real home now! No more cranky orphanage ladies, no more stupid curfews!”
Haruto allowed himself the faintest smile, though his eyes lingered on the carved crest above the main hall. “This place has history… important history. We shouldn’t just run around screaming like idiots.”
“Too late!” Naruto hollered, already chasing dragonflies by the pond.
Tsunade couldn’t help it—her lips curved into a laugh, soft and bittersweet. Nawaki had said something nearly identical the first time Tobirama showed him the clan archives. History… important history.
She guided them toward the main hall. As they slid open the door, the scent of tatami mats and sandalwood filled the air. The rooms had been cleaned, the dust swept away, though the emptiness lingered like a ghost.
“This was the Senju clan’s home,” Tsunade said quietly. “Your great-grandfather built it himself. Generations lived here—warriors, leaders… family. And now, it’s yours.”
Naruto plopped down on the tatami with a satisfied sigh, as though claiming the space instantly. Haruto remained standing, fingers brushing the wood of the doorframe. His red eyes gleamed faintly in the dim light.
Tsunade studied them both—the boundless energy of Naruto, the sharp, contemplative silence of Haruto. Hashirama and Tobirama, she thought. Not just in blood, but in spirit.
And for the first time in decades, she didn’t feel the emptiness of this house pressing in. Instead, it felt… alive again.
The night had fallen softly over the compound, the cicadas singing from the garden. Inside the main hall, a low fire burned in the hearth, throwing warm light across the room. Naruto sat cross-legged on a cushion, rocking back and forth impatiently. Haruto sat perfectly straight beside him, his hands folded in his lap, every bit the picture of composure.
Tsunade poured herself a cup of sake, then thought better of it and pushed the bottle aside. Tonight wasn’t about her vices—it was about them.
“So,” she began, her voice carrying the weight of memory, “you two should know what it means to carry the name Senju.”
Naruto’s head tilted. “Senju? But… we’re Uzumaki, right?”
“You’re both,” Tsunade said firmly. “Your father was Minato Namikaze, and your mother Kushina Uzumaki. But through Minato… you’re also Senju. My grandfather was the First Hokage—Senju Hashirama. His younger brother, my great-uncle, was the Second Hokage—Senju Tobirama.”
Naruto’s eyes went round as ramen bowls. “The First Hokage?! The one who built Konoha? That’s our great-great-grandpa?!” He bounced in place, fists pumping. “That’s so cool! Granny, tell us everything!”
Haruto gave a sharp tug on his brother’s sleeve. “Idiot. Don’t shout.” But his own gaze stayed locked on Tsunade, curiosity flickering in his crimson eyes.
Tsunade chuckled softly. “Hashirama… he was larger than life. Warm, foolish at times, but strong enough to bend the very world. He believed in peace, in family, in protecting others no matter what. He could wrestle tailed beasts into submission with a smile on his face.”
Naruto’s grin nearly split his face. “That’s it! I wanna be like him! I’ll be super strong and protect everyone too—just like Great-Grandpa Hashirama!”
Haruto muttered under his breath, “You’re already foolish like him…”
Tsunade hid her smile behind her hand. Then her expression softened, her gaze drifting toward Haruto. “And Tobirama… was different. He was sharp, disciplined. He didn’t smile much, but he cared deeply for his brother and the village. He was a genius with jutsu, always thinking ten steps ahead. Some feared him, but he kept the village alive more times than I can count.”
Haruto straightened slightly, his small shoulders squared. “…Sounds reasonable.” His voice was calm, but the faint pride in his tone betrayed him.
Naruto immediately leaned across and jabbed a finger at him. “Pfft! Figures you’d like the grumpy one. I’m way cooler ‘cause I’m like Hashirama!”
“Cooler?” Haruto scoffed. “You run headfirst into things without thinking. That’s not cool, that’s stupid.”
Naruto puffed his cheeks, ready to argue, but Tsunade tapped her knuckles lightly on the floor. “Enough, you two. Hashirama and Tobirama bickered the same way. But they were strongest together.” Her eyes softened, the firelight catching the moisture there. “Just like you will be.”
The twins fell quiet. Naruto fidgeted with the edge of his cushion, while Haruto studied the flickering fire.
For the first time, the boys weren’t just orphans scrambling for scraps of belonging. They had a name. A history. A legacy.
And sitting before them, Tsunade felt something stir in her chest that she hadn’t felt in years—hope.
The next morning, the compound’s training yard—overgrown after years of neglect—came alive again. The morning sun stretched long beams over cracked flagstones, where weeds had sprouted through. Tsunade had her sleeves rolled up, standing with arms folded, watching her new wards with a sharp, appraising eye.
Naruto was already bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Alright! Time for training! Granny, are you gonna teach us super cool secret jutsu?”
“First,” Tsunade said dryly, “you’re going to learn how to stand still.”
Naruto stopped bouncing. “Eh? That sounds lame.”
“Shut up and listen, idiot,” Haruto muttered. He was standing in perfect form, back straight, eyes locked on Tsunade, soaking in every word.
“Good,” Tsunade nodded to Haruto. “Chakra control is everything. You two have… unusual gifts. But power without control is as dangerous to you as it is to anyone else.”
Naruto pouted. “C’mon, Granny, I can handle it—watch!”
Before Tsunade could stop him, Naruto slammed his hands together. His chakra surged wildly, spilling out like an untamed tide. From the cracked ground, a spray of wooden spikes burst upward—crooked, uneven, but undeniably alive.
Naruto yelped, stumbling back, nearly impaling himself on one of his own creations.
“Idiot!” Haruto darted forward, pulling him by the collar. His free hand instinctively swept sideways, and a thin whip of water pulled from the morning air lashed across one of the jagged spikes, slicing it in half before it could topple.
Both boys froze.
The yard went silent save for the drip-drip of water evaporating on the stones.
Tsunade stared, her chest tight. In those few seconds, she had seen it—the flare of Hashirama’s legacy in Naruto, and Tobirama’s genius precision in Haruto. Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Naruto broke the silence with a shaky laugh. “See? Told ya I could do it!” His knees were still trembling, though he tried to puff out his chest.
Haruto’s crimson eyes narrowed. “…You almost killed yourself.”
“Yeah, but it was awesome!”
“You’re hopeless.”
“Better than boring!”
“Brainless.”
“Stick-in-the-mud!”
“Enough.” Tsunade’s voice cracked through the yard, sharp as a kunai. The boys froze mid-glare. She exhaled slowly, calming herself before speaking again. “Naruto, your chakra is powerful, but it’s running wild. Haruto, your control is remarkable, but your reserves are still too small. If you two don’t learn to work together, you’ll only get in each other’s way.”
The twins glanced at one another, reluctant but begrudgingly silent.
Tsunade’s gaze softened, just slightly. “You’ll train here every day. I’ll teach you to use your gifts. But remember this—” Her tone dropped lower, more personal. “You aren’t just carrying my clan’s legacy. You’re carrying the future of this village. Don’t waste it.”
For once, neither boy had a retort.
Naruto swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck. Haruto stared down at his own hands, droplets of water still glistening on his fingertips.
The training yard, silent for so many years, had finally awakened—and so had the next generation of Senju.
The Senju compound was quiet until a loud, booming laugh split the air.
“Ku ku ku! So it’s true—the great Tsunade has finally put down the dice and picked up motherhood!”
Naruto and Haruto, who had been sparring in the yard under Tsunade’s watchful eye, looked up in unison. A tall man in flamboyant robes strolled through the open gate like he owned the place, a massive scroll strapped to his back. His long white hair shimmered in the light, his grin irrepressible.
Naruto gawked. “Whoa! Granny, who’s that weird-looking old man?”
The man stopped dead, twitching. “Old—?!” He spun, pointing a dramatic finger. “Listen, brat! I am not old! I am Jiraiya the Gallant—Sannin, sage, and greatest shinobi of this age!” He struck a heroic pose. “And yes, author of the world-famous—”
“—pervy books,” Tsunade cut in, unimpressed, arms crossed.
Jiraiya staggered, deflating. “H-Hey! That’s not fair, they’re literature!”
Naruto snorted with laughter while Haruto muttered flatly, “He doesn’t look very gallant.”
Jiraiya’s eye twitched. He crouched, glaring at Haruto. “What was that, kid?”
“Nothing.” Haruto’s red eyes didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. The sharp, calculating stare reminded Jiraiya so much of Tobirama that he had to look away, unsettled.
Meanwhile, Naruto had already bounded up to him, practically bouncing. “So, you’re super strong, right? Can you teach us a cool jutsu? Pleeease?”
Jiraiya blinked at him—then grinned. “Heh. You’re exactly like your mom, kid. Same energy. Same nerve.” His grin softened just slightly as he took in Naruto’s whisker-marked grin and then Haruto’s crimson eyes, cool and steady. “And you,” he said, looking at Haruto. “Sharp. Too sharp for your age. Like your old man—and like someone else I knew.”
Naruto tilted his head. “You knew our parents too?”
Before Jiraiya could answer, Tsunade cut in smoothly, sparing him the weight of explanations the boys weren’t ready for. “He was their teacher.”
That seemed enough for the twins. Naruto beamed, awe sparking in his eyes, while Haruto gave a small, thoughtful nod.
“Teacher, huh?” Naruto piped. “Then you better show us something awesome!”
“Yeah,” Haruto added, though his tone was skeptical. “Otherwise I’ll assume you’re just full of hot air.”
Jiraiya nearly tripped over his own feet. “Wha—?! These kids—!” He shot a look at Tsunade, who smirked.
“Now you know what I’ve been dealing with,” she said dryly.
Despite the chaos, despite the mockery, something heavy and warm stirred in Jiraiya’s chest. These weren’t just brats—they were Minato and Kushina’s boys. The energy, the spark, the looks—it was all there. For the first time in years, standing here with Tsunade and these twins, he felt like he wasn’t just wandering anymore.
The Senju compound, long silent, echoed with laughter, bickering, and life once again.
The compound was quiet at last.
Naruto lay sprawled across his futon, one leg dangling off the side, his blanket twisted in a hopeless knot. His chest rose and fell with loud, unbothered snores. In the next room, Haruto rested neatly on his futon, hands tucked under the blanket, his breathing steady and quiet as though he had disciplined even his sleep.
Tsunade stood in the hallway between their doors, the lantern light casting long shadows down the empty corridor. For a long while she simply watched—listening to the sound of two children finally safe, finally at peace.
Her fingers tightened against the frame of Naruto’s door. “Nawaki…” her voice was barely a whisper, caught somewhere between sorrow and strength. “I couldn’t protect you. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn’t strong enough to keep you here.”
She shifted, glancing toward Haruto’s room. “Minato, Kushina… I failed you, too. I wasn’t here when you needed me most. And because of that… these boys were left alone in a world that should have cherished them.”
Her hand trembled. She curled it into a fist.
“But no more.” Her voice hardened, almost fierce in the silence. “These two… they won’t grow up alone. They won’t be cast aside. I swear to you—I’ll raise them as my own. I’ll give them the family you were denied. This time…” her throat tightened, eyes wet, “…this time, my family will survive.”
The words lingered in the corridor, steady and unyielding.
Tsunade slid the doors closed, leaving the boys to their dreams. Then, with a final look toward the darkened hallway, she turned away—not as a wandering sannin, not as the granddaughter of Hashirama, but as their guardian.
For the first time in decades, she felt anchored to Konoha again.
This was her new beginning.
AntiMage_29 on Chapter 1 Sun 07 Sep 2025 02:22AM UTC
Last Edited Sun 07 Sep 2025 02:22AM UTC
Comment Actions
AntiMage_29 on Chapter 3 Wed 27 Aug 2025 07:43PM UTC
Comment Actions
RomanticDumon on Chapter 5 Thu 21 Aug 2025 08:05PM UTC
Comment Actions