At the faint break of dawn, in the Hokage’s office.
“Hiss—haah—, a direct bloodline of the Uzumaki family, is it?
Raise him well, and the village’s future might just gain another shinobi on par with a Kage.”
Gazing at the roster of the Uzumaki Clan, Hiruzen Sarutobi took a satisfying puff from his pipe, a smile spreading across his face.
The Third Great Shinobi War had only just ended, and now the village was locked in a string of border clashes with Kumogakure and Iwagakure.
The long, drawn-out warfare had all but severed the village’s line of prodigies—Konoha had never been this weak since its founding.
Fortunately, the conflict had dragged on to the point where both Konoha and Kumogakure tacitly kept the intensity of battle in check.
The overall scale of engagement shrank with each skirmish, and by the looks of it, a ceasefire ought to come this very year.
For Uzumaki Genshin to arrive in Konoha at precisely this moment—it was almost as if fate itself had arranged it.
A child who would bring peace to Konoha…
Bang!
The door was shoved open with force, cutting off Hiruzen Sarutobi’s deep contemplation.
In walked a brown-haired, sinister-looking old man, his head and right eye wrapped in bandages—none other than Danzo Shimura, the Hokage’s advisor of Konoha.
“Hiruzen, hand this Uzumaki Clan child over to Root.
I’ll forge him into a sharp blade for the village.”
Danzo Shimura made his demand without the slightest courtesy, addressing Hiruzen Sarutobi behind the Hokage’s desk.
With a perfect Uzumaki Clan vessel in hand, at best one could scheme to seize the tailed beasts of other villages; at worst, should the village’s Jinchūriki ever falter, the beast could be smoothly transferred under Root’s control.
As long as the Jinchūriki was in my grasp, this old man would be one step closer to that seat…
Danzo Shimura mulled over his follow-up plans even as he fixed his stare on Hiruzen Sarutobi.
“No.
I already have arrangements for this child.
The current Nine-Tails Jinchūriki needs more bonds.”
“And you’d best rein yourself in, Danzo.
Don’t think I don’t know what you’ve done.”
Hiruzen Sarutobi drew a puff from the pipe clenched in his teeth, refusing Danzo without even lifting his head, all while sorting through the documents stacked on his desk.
Danzo knew he was referring to the demon fox rumors that Root had been spreading throughout the village.
“You’re too soft, Hiruzen!
If you don’t plunge the Jinchūriki into darkness, how can it ever become a weapon under the village’s command?
Don’t forget—it was precisely because Kushina Uzumaki had emotions that the evil Uchiha found an opening to exploit during her childbirth!”
“A Jinchūriki should have its emotions snuffed out.
A replaceable weapon is all it needs to be!”
Hiruzen Sarutobi raised his head and locked eyes with Danzo.
“Plunge him into darkness so Root can seize control, is that it?
Danzo, your reach has grown far too long!”
No one understood better than Hiruzen Sarutobi that Root and Danzo drew in people with darkness in their hearts.
After the Nine-Tails’ Night, he too had wavered over whether Danzo’s Jinchūriki-as-weapon theory held any truth, and so he had let the demon fox child rumors spread unchecked.
But the guilt in his heart toward Minato Namikaze and his wife made him unable to sit by and watch Naruto be isolated by the village.
Alas, the deed was done—rumors already in circulation would not vanish simply because he called a halt now.
All he could do was personally set out every few days to visit Naruto as compensation, easing his own guilt just a little in the process.
In the end, he really had grown soft.
If only he’d been more decisive back then…
“You’ve grown soft, Hiruzen!”
The King of Bringing Up the One Sore Subject.
“Shut up, Danzo.
I’m the one who’s Hokage!”
And the Third Hokage, who knew exactly which words would sting Danzo the most.
Their meeting broke up on unhappy terms, punctuated by the heavy slam of a door.
…
A peaceful night passed.
In the quiet little cottage, Genshin greeted his first morning in Konoha.
Having just gotten up, Genshin stretched, then rose to wash up.
He had to admit, the ANBU shinobi had arranged things quite thoughtfully.
The fridge held not only all sorts of household ingredients, but even milk.
So Genshin decided to make himself breakfast.
In his past life his cooking had been rather good—he’d simply let the skill rust from the busy grind of a 996 schedule.
He poured freshly boiled hot water into a bowl, then took two cartons of milk from the fridge and dropped them in to warm.
He preheated a flat pan over low heat, no oil needed, and first laid out four slices of toast flat across the surface, roasting them slowly at low temperature.
He let the warmth seep gradually into the fluffy pores of the toast, driving off the soft sponginess of room-temperature bread and slowly baking out a faintly crisp texture on the surface.
Without washing the pan, he poured in oil directly and set down a slice of ham of even thickness.
With the ‘sizzle’ of the oil, the ham’s edges gradually curled up ever so slightly, shedding their raw, cold pinkish-white and taking on a warm, mellow golden-brown.
At the same time he cracked in an egg, the whites wrapping around the golden yolk as they spread slowly across the bottom of the pan.
Pan-fried gently over low heat, the underside quickly set to a firm white, its edges frying up a ring of fine, crisp golden lace.
Once the bottom had solidified, he flipped it lightly, careful not to overcook it—in Genshin’s opinion, the most perfect fried egg was the runny kind.
He took out the toast he’d roasted and set aside, laying it on a plate, then piled on the ham fried oily and fragrant, cradling the freshly cooked egg steadily.
The residual warmth of the piping-hot yolk carried the aroma of the meat, layer melting into layer.
Finally he added two fresh lettuce leaves, washed and patted dry—the crisp, tender greens perfectly balanced the warm, oily richness of the egg and ham.
He capped it with another slice of soft, fluffy toast, pressing down gently so everything clung firmly together.
Genshin gripped a knife and, cutting cleanly along a diagonal right through the center of the toast, made two swift slices.
In an instant the two square sandwiches split into four neat, plump triangles.
He wrapped one in a paper bag and held it out toward a little fellow at the window who was staring at the sandwich and swallowing hungrily, giving the sandwich in his hand a little wave.
“Want some?”
This little fellow had a golden, spiky, hedgehog-like head of hair, with three whisker-like marks on each cheek, his tiny hands clutching at the windowsill with all his might as he peered inside—none other than the present three-year-old Prince Naruto.
Drawn in by the aroma, little Naruto’s gaze instantly locked onto the sandwich the moment he heard Genshin’s words.
His throat bobbed up and down uncontrollably, the sound of him swallowing conspicuously clear in the quiet air.
He glanced at Genshin again—clearly he was already drooling for it, yet he didn’t move a muscle.
So this is Naruto in socially-anxious mode, huh.
Have the demon fox rumors already begun to spread?
Genshin clicked his tongue, stood, and walked over to the windowsill, raising his hand toward the little fellow.
Little Naruto flinched in fright, shutting his eyes and shrinking his neck—only to find someone lifting him up by the collar.
His arms and legs immediately began flailing.
“Hold still!”
The impatient Genshin hauled little Naruto over to a stool beside the dining table, and while he was at it, opened the carton of warmed milk and set it in front of him.
“Finish all this.
Any problem with that?”
Little Naruto shook his head at lightning speed.
“Alright then, eat up.
I’m stepping out for a bit.”
Wrapping up the two sandwiches, Genshin took a carton of the warmed milk and put it together with the sandwiches into a bag.
Crossing through the dining area to the balcony, Genshin called out to the beast-masked ANBU on duty atop the roof.
“Hey, mister, catch!”
He tossed up the bag holding the sandwiches and milk, and it was caught by a hand that reached out from the rooftop.
Poor beast-masked ANBU—still on duty from last night all the way until now.
When Genshin got up in the morning and realized the man was still up on the roof, he’d been utterly stunned.
No way, bro, you pulled an all-nighter on the job?
That’s even more brutal than 996.
Careful you don’t drop dead from overwork like I did!
The ANBU seated at the edge of the roof caught the bag and opened it, giving Genshin a nod.
Though the beast mask hid his expression, he ought to be pleased… probably?
Back at the dining table, the little fellow was still devouring his food heartily.
Genshin sat down on the stool across from little Naruto, and without a word, picked up a sandwich and started eating.
He’d originally made four portions, intending to eat two himself and give two to the ANBU—but with an extra diner now, he had no choice but to shortchange himself and eat one less.
When he’d nearly finished, Genshin looked at the flustered little fellow across from him and, keeping his tone as gentle as possible, struck up a conversation.
“Hey, what’s your name?” Even though he knew the prince’s name, the proper motions still had to be gone through.
“Naruto.
Uzumaki Naruto.” Naruto answered in a small voice.
“Hm?
You share my surname.
Looks like we’re of the same clan.
My name’s Uzumaki Genshin.”
“…What’s a clan?”
“It’s a group of people under one surname.
Just like the Uchiha clan in the village—people of the same clan are like family!
Though, these days there probably aren’t many left with the Uzumaki surname.”
“Then are we… family?” Little Naruto tilted his face up, his eyes filled with anticipation, his hands unconsciously gripping the edge of the tablecloth.
Genshin couldn’t quite bear that look.
He reached out and vigorously ruffled little Naruto’s golden mop—mm, just as prickly as he’d imagined.
“Call me Big Brother Genshin.
From now on, we’re family.”
The moment the words left his mouth, little Naruto’s eyes shot wide open, and then the corners of his mouth split into a silly, goofy grin.
“Family… Big Brother Genshin is family?” He repeated it again, as if afraid he’d misheard.
He had never once heard this word from anyone else’s lips—the other people in the village either hid from him or cursed at him when they saw him.
No one had ever spoken such words to him.
That’s more like it.
The protagonist ought to grin foolishly, laugh loudly, smile with confidence.
That look from before, like an abandoned puppy, doesn’t suit Naruto at all.
Genshin bit down the last mouthful of his sandwich.
“That’s right.
From now on, whenever I’m home, you come here to eat.
I don’t like eating alone.”
Looking at little Naruto’s pure, unclouded smile, Genshin was inexplicably reminded of a certain line.
“You were so brave and so quiet, I forgot you were suffering.”
The Naruto of the original work always wore a brilliant smile on his face, yet his scarred, battered heart he kept covered and hidden where no one could see.
The one with the most reason to turn to darkness became the warmest sun for everyone—and even went on to save the entire Shinobi World.
Perhaps the meaning of my coming here is precisely to change all this…
Genshin gave his head a light shake and didn’t let the thought go any further.
Watching little Naruto gulp down the hot milk in a few swallows and wipe the corner of his mouth, he opened his mouth to speak:
“Oh right, once you’re done eating you have to wash all the dishes, okay?
Because I hate washing dishes—from now on you’ll do the dishes every time we finish a meal.”
Give the kid something to do, so he wouldn’t later feel too awkward to come by, like he was freeloading.
This was the perfect way for an adult to give someone a graceful way out.
Watching little Naruto stand on the stool scrubbing away at the dishes with grunting effort, Genshin leaned against the window looking at the distant silhouette of the Hokage Rock, beginning to plan out the days ahead in his mind.
It had been three years now since the Nine-Tails’ chaos, and the situation in the village still hadn’t fully settled.
In all likelihood, some troublemaker lurking in the shadows was still eyeing the Uzumaki bloodline, scheming.
Since he’d come to this place, he couldn’t very well just sit obediently and wait to be manipulated by others.
Besides, he’d just acknowledged Naruto as family—he couldn’t very well watch this little fellow go on freezing and starving all alone in the village.
He still needed to grow stronger.
In this world, only power held firmly in one’s own hand was the truth.
Just as he was thinking this, a soft knock suddenly came from the door.
Genshin raised an eyebrow, walked over, and opened it.