Chapter no.3 Naruto

Chapter no.3: Talks with Hiruzen Sarutobi

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Hiruzen sat at his desk, staring at the stack of reports before him, but his mind was far from the words on the page. Today had been… chaotic, to say the least. His pipe rested between his lips, and he took a long puff, letting the smoke fill his lungs. He needed this. After the events of the night, he needed something to calm his nerves, something to help him think clearly.

Naruto Uzumaki, the Jinchuriki of Konoha—his grandson in everything but blood—had stolen the Forbidden Scroll of Seals. Naruto had knocked him out with that ridiculous jutsu of his, an illusion of a naked woman. I’ve seen many things in my years as Hokage, but that… that was a new low. A small part of Hiruzen was thankful that no one knew about it. The last thing he needed was for the village to hear that the great ”Professor” Sarutobi had been bested by such a… technique. Kami, the embarrassment would never end.

Another puff of smoke escaped his lips as he leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Naruto had been tricked, of course. Tricked by a rogue shinobi—Mizuki. Well, that explained how Naruto had managed to bypass the security and get his hands on the scroll. Naruto may be talented in his own way, but even Hiruzen knew the boy wasn’t capable of pulling off such a feat alone. But Mizuki… How did a low-level chunin, who spent his days as an assistant teacher, know enough about the security patterns of my library to pull this off?

It didn’t sit right with him. Not one bit. If he hadn’t gone to check on his secret stash of Icha Icha novels—a guilty pleasure I’ll take to the grave—he might not have even known Naruto was in the building.

But no, that wasn’t the worst of it, was it? His headache wasn’t just from the breach or the embarrassing knock-out. It was the fact that Mizuki had revealed that secret to Naruto—the truth about the Kyuubi no Kitsune. Oh, Kami. Hiruzen had wanted to wait. He had planned to tell Naruto himself when he was ready, when he was old enough, mature enough to understand the weight of the truth. But now? That plan was ruined, shattered by Mizuki’s selfishness.

Damn it, Mizuki.

He took another drag from his pipe, letting the smoke swirl around him. Iruka had come in just in time, thank the gods. Mizuki had filled Naruto’s head with lies, twisted his perception, and nearly pushed him down a dark path. It wasn’t much better than what I’d done, though, was it? Keeping the boy in the dark for all these years, letting him grow up hated, shunned, without knowing the reason why.

I should’ve told him sooner. I should’ve prepared him. But no, Hiruzen wanted to shield him, to protect him from the harsh truth for as long as he could. And now? Now it’s all come crashing down around him.

Normally, he mused, this chaotic night would have ended with a heartfelt conversation. I would’ve tried to talk to Naruto, to explain things, to apologize. Once everything had calmed down, they could’ve sat down, and he could’ve helped Naruto make sense of it all. But that was not to be.

No. Instead, Hiruzen had to deal with the news that Naruto… killed Mizuki.

The pipe nearly slipped from his fingers as he thought about it again. Naruto had killed him. A twelve-year-old boy, his boy, had taken a life. Kami, what have I done? The weight of it all pressed down on him like a boulder. Naruto wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t prepared to face the consequences of what it means to kill.

How do I even begin to talk to him now?

Oh, Kami, please give me strength, Hiruzen thought as he rubbed his goatee, his fingers tracing the familiar lines of worry that seemed to have deepened over the years. This was bad. Really bad. It was one thing for an average genin to kill, but for Naruto—a Jinchuriki—to take a life? That was a different matter entirely.

A genin’s first kill was supposed to happen under the careful watch of a team. You were meant to have the support of your teammates and the guidance of a jounin teacher. It was a delicate moment, one that needed to be handled with wisdom. And, if necessary, the teacher could evaluate if the student had the right mentality to continue as a shinobi—or if they were teetering on a dangerous path.

I won’t risk another Orochimaru.

But Naruto? He had killed without any of that support. No teammates to steady him, no experienced hand to pull him back from the edge. His mental state after this… it was unknown, and that scared Hiruzen more than anything.

Why? Because Hiruzen knew what it meant to be a Jinchuriki. He had seen it firsthand with Kushina. The Kyuubi would whisper to her, try to claw its way out, to seize control. He knew Naruto’s seal was stronger—Minato and Kushina had made sure of that—but the fact remained that the seal was connected to Naruto’s chakra system. There was always a chance, no matter how small, that Naruto could suffer the same torment his mother had.

The Kyuubi’s influence… the whisper of darkness… I couldn’t let that happen to him, Hiruzen thought gravely.

There was a knock at the door, and Hiruzen sensed Naruto’s presence on the other side. His chakra, normally as bright and warm as the sun, felt… different this time. There was something darker, something unfamiliar swirling within it. Hiruzen’s heart sank.

I need to get Inoichi to do a psych evaluation immediately. The boy needs help. Kami knows he needs all the help he can get right now, Hiruzen thought with concern.

He took off his Hokage hat, placing it on the oak desk in front of him. The desk had been with him for decades, long before he even dreamed of becoming Hokage. It had been crafted by the Shodaime himself, using his Wood Style jutsu. The grain of the wood was still beautiful, even after all these years. Hiruzen’s fingers traced along the surface, feeling every ridge, every groove, each mark telling a story.

There was one particularly large gash, a scar on the otherwise smooth surface. Hiruzen smiled sadly, remembering that it had been carved by his sensei, the Nidaime, in a moment of rare anger. That anger had terrified the shinobi of Kumo, and indirectly, it contributed to the start of the Second Shinobi War.

A war that took Tobirama’s life.

Hiruzen sighed, his fingers lingering on the worn wood. The desk was cluttered now, littered with papers—more than he cared for, even though he had secretaries and a functioning administration. But despite all the duties, despite all the tasks that came with this title, Hiruzen wasn’t wearing the hat of the Hokage today.

No. Naruto didn’t need the presence of the Third Hokage right now. He needed Hiruzen. The grandfather. The old man who could sit with him, talk to him. The one who would listen, not judge.

Hiruzen looked at the door, steeling himself for the conversation ahead.

The moment Naruto walked in, Hiruzen’s heart sank. His expression was blank—not the usual fiery, emotional mask Hiruzen had grown accustomed to. No, it was as if Naruto’s mind wasn’t even here, like he was focused on something far away, something only he could see in the empty air before him. It made Hiruzen uneasy, a cold knot tightening in his chest. This was Naruto, the boy who wore his emotions on his sleeve, who had never been able to hide how he felt. Hiruzen expected anger, confusion—something—but not this. Not this hollow, distant look.

Everyone processes trauma differently, Hiruzen reminded himself, trying to steady the storm in his heart. But this… this was unsettling.

“Naruto, greet the Hokage,” Iruka said gently, his voice strained. Naruto didn’t respond. He just kept staring, as if the air between them was more interesting than the reality in front of him. Hiruzen didn’t miss the way Iruka’s hands were shaking. The academy teacher was visibly on edge. Hiruzen could only imagine what had transpired between them tonight.

How did Naruto kill Mizuki that even a chunin is afraid of him? The thought struck Hiruzen hard, like a stone sinking in water.

“Iruka,” Hiruzen said quietly, drawing the man’s attention. Iruka snapped to attention, standing rigidly upright.

“Yes, Hokage-sama?”

“It has been a hard night for…” Hiruzen let his eyes drift to Naruto, lingering on the boy longer than he should have. Iruka caught his meaning immediately. Naruto had been the most affected tonight. More than anyone.

“For everyone,” Hiruzen finished softly.

Iruka nodded, a hint of relief crossing his face as Hiruzen gave him his next order. “Your command, Hokage-sama?”

“Dismissed.”

Iruka didn’t hesitate, though Hiruzen could feel his reluctance to leave Naruto alone with him. Once the door closed, it was just Naruto and Hiruzen in the office. Well, not entirely alone, Hiruzen thought, knowing the ever-watchful eyes of the Anbu remained hidden in the shadows. But this was different. This moment needed to be personal.

“Naruto,” Hiruzen said gently, trying to break through the fog clouding Naruto’s mind. “Why don’t you sit down?”

For a moment, there was nothing. And then, like a sudden jolt, Naruto snapped to attention, his eyes darting around the room, confused, almost startled. It was as if he had only just realized he was standing in the Hokage’s office. Hiruzen watched him closely, noting the signs. He wasn’t present. His mind was somewhere else. Detached. Was it shock? Disassociation?

“Is something wrong?” Hiruzen asked, keeping his voice as calm and steady as he could, though the knot in his stomach tightened.

“No, I’m fine,” Naruto muttered, but it was clear he wasn’t. His words were rushed, empty. “Can I leave now?”

He wasn’t even trying to sit down. Why won’t he sit down?

“Naruto, you aren’t in trouble,” Hiruzen said, trying to reassure him, trying to let him know that he was safe here, with him.

“Great, then can I leave?” Naruto’s voice was quick, almost desperate, as he took a step back toward the door.

“Naruto, why are you in such a hurry to go?”

“I just…” Naruto paused, his face shifting with uncertainty, as if he didn’t even know how to explain what he was feeling. He was struggling, and it hurt Hiruzen to see it.

“I’m busy with… some super important stuff,” Naruto finally managed to say, but the way he said it—so hollow, so detached—made Hiruzen’s chest tighten painfully. He was a child, trying to escape a conversation he didn’t want to have. Trying to run from something he couldn’t face. And worse yet, Naruto didn’t seem angry at him for keeping secrets. He didn’t even have questions about the Kyuubi, about the truth Mizuki had spilled. He wasn’t seeking answers, wasn’t demanding explanations.

Why wasn’t Naruto mad? Why wasn’t he furious with him?

Why doesn’t he want to talk?

Hiruzen’s mind raced as he watched Naruto—this wasn’t normal. This wasn’t how Naruto reacted to things. Where was the outburst? Where was the energy, the fire Hiruzen knew so well? The Naruto who was always defiant, always pushing, always demanding to be seen and heard? This… this was something else. Naruto was pulling away. Avoiding. Running.

The boy who normally fought for every scrap of attention was now desperately trying to slip away unnoticed.

Is he afraid of feeling? Is he afraid of what’s inside him right now?

“Naruto…” Hiruzen began, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to pull Naruto back from wherever his mind had gone.

“I want to talk about the Kyuubi no Kitsune,” Hiruzen said, his voice steady, watching Naruto carefully for any reaction. This was a test—a way to gauge how deep Naruto’s fear and trauma ran. If Naruto still tried to run, then Hiruzen would personally drag Inoichi and a team of medical ninjas to him if he had to.

But, to Hiruzen’s surprise, Naruto paused. He hesitated for only a moment, then sat down.

Hiruzen blinked, confused. Wasn’t he just trying to run away from this?

Naruto’s words echoed in his mind. I’m busy with… some super important stuff. What could possibly be more important than seeking answers after what he had been through? What could be more important than facing his fear? Hiruzen didn’t like not knowing, not having even a speculation. And he really didn’t like that.

“You saw tonight one of the darker aspects of shinobi life,” Hiruzen began, his tone as careful as he could make it. “Traitors come and go, and they all must be dealt with eventually. Despite your horrendous mistake, you’ve done a great service to the village by putting a stop to him.” He waited for something, anything—a reaction. Naruto didn’t flinch, didn’t respond except for a small gulp.

“Oh, yeah,” Naruto said suddenly, as if the thought had just registered in his mind. “I killed Mizuki.”

Hiruzen’s heart skipped a beat. Naruto’s tone was so casual, so detached, as if he had just realized he had killed an insect, not a man.

Hiruzen felt his breath catch in his throat, his lungs squeezed tight as he slowly let the air out. He hadn’t expected this. In all his years as Hokage, in all the times he’d seen young shinobi grapple with their first kill, this was not the reaction he had prepared for. He had seen them cry, question their morality, break down in tears. Even those with darker tendencies, the ones they feared might turn, at least had some perverse reaction to their first taste of bloodshed.

But Naruto… Naruto’s reaction was nothing. Just a shrug, like the life he took was insignificant. Like it didn’t even matter.

Oh, Kami.

This wasn’t just unsettling. This was terrifying. Naruto’s reaction wasn’t that of a child coming to grips with the horrors of their world—it was the mindset of a killer. A true killer, who could end life and move on as if it were nothing. And it chilled Hiruzen to his core.

Hiruzen should be happy, right? Isn’t this what every village hopes for? A perfect shinobi? Someone who doesn’t break, who doesn’t falter, who can do the job and move on without emotional baggage? But no… Hiruzen couldn’t feel happy. He couldn’t feel relief.

Because he had seen this before. He had seen this exact calm, this exact detachment, in Orochimaru. And that was all Hiruzen needed to know that this reaction from Naruto was not something he could accept.

Not again.

Is this calm, this detachment, a response to trauma? Hiruzen’s thoughts raced. He knew Naruto’s loneliness better than anyone. He had always hoped, always believed, that Naruto would eventually overcome it, that he would find his place, his people.

Hiruzen considered forcing civilians to be Naruto’s friends—that could have been disastrous—but now he was beginning to question his own judgment. Had I made a mistake by letting him face this alone for so long?

Because if this was a trauma response, then it was a deeply dangerous one. The thought twisted in Hiruzen’s heart like a knife. He had spent so long thinking that Naruto would be strong enough to overcome the darkness that surrounded him, but now he wasn’t so sure. What if the darkness has already started to take root?

The question loomed over Hiruzen like a storm cloud. Did Naruto have an innate desire to kill? Was this his nature now? Or was this just… enough?

Hiruzen wanted to believe it was enough. He wanted to believe this was the end of it. But deep down, he knew better. It’s never enough. Not once someone has taken that step.

I need to consult Inoichi. There was no question about it anymore. Hiruzen needed help. Naruto needed help, whether he knew it or not. And Hiruzen wasn’t going to let him fall through the cracks. Not this time.

Not like Orochimaru.

“Guess that’s what demons do,” Naruto muttered, and something in his tone made Hiruzen’s heart lurch. There was a disgust there, but not for the word itself—it was for himself. Naruto spoke it like it was a truth he’d been forced to accept, and hearing it twisted something deep inside Hiruzen.

He couldn’t place his finger on it, but Kami help him, he wanted to pray right then. Hiruzen wanted to pray that Naruto’s indifference, this cold detachment, was just him playing a role—a child who had taken on the idea of being a “demon” too seriously, pretending it was true because others had told him it was. Please let that be the case, he thought. Let it be childish acting, and not the makings of a boy slipping into something darker.

“Naruto, you aren’t a demon,” Hiruzen said firmly, watching for his reaction. Naruto paused but didn’t look at him.

“What did that traitor tell you?”

Naruto summarized the ordeal. His words were blunt, like he was reporting facts, not recounting a personal attack.

“You have to know the truth about your status,” Hiruzen began carefully.

“My status?” Naruto’s eyes focused now, his mind finally present.

“Mizuki told you that you were the Kyuubi,” Hiruzen said, his voice low. “It’s not true. You are the Kyuubi’s jinchuriki.”

“Jin… Churiki?” Naruto repeated, stumbling over the word. It was foreign to him, strange.

“The Kyuubi wasn’t killed,” Hiruzen continued, “It was sealed inside of you as an infant.”

“Me.”

“Yes.”

“But… but I…” He stammered, trying to piece it all together. “I’m not a demon, then?”

“Of course not, my boy!” Hiruzen’s voice cracked with the force of his denial. He couldn’t let Naruto believe that lie. “And allow no one to call you that!”

Hiruzen had hoped his words would comfort Naruto, reassure him. But instead, they opened a floodgate.

“Then… why? Why do they treat me like that?” Naruto’s voice cracked, and Hiruzen could hear the weight of his loneliness, his isolation pressing down on him. The question hung in the air like a noose around Hiruzen’s neck.

All the 3rd hokage said was, “They fear you, Naruto. You are a reminder of the pain the Kyuubi caused.”

There was a silence between them, one that cut deep. Hiruzen could see the questions swimming in Naruto’s eyes, and then, finally, one slipped out.

“Why did they know, but I didn’t?”

Hiruzen closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of his past decisions bearing down on him. “Seven years ago, I made a law forbidding anyone from speaking about your status,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “I hoped it would allow you to live a normal life.”

Naruto’s reply hit Hiruzen like a kunai to the gut. “Look how good that turned out,” Naruto said, his voice empty, bitter. The words made Hiruzen wince, and he couldn’t argue. He had failed him.

“Hokage-sama.” The title slipped from Naruto’s lips like poison, and Hiruzen felt his blood run cold. Naruto had never called him that before.

Did I just lose him?

Hiruzen’s mind blanked for a moment, panic surging in the pit of his stomach. He nodded, trying to keep his composure, even as the weight of that title—Hokage—pressed down on him like a stone.

“Why did you tell them and not me?”

Hiruzen tried to gather himself, to find some way to explain, to fix what he had broken. “I… I didn’t. I was trying to protect you.” His voice wavered, the weight of his years pressing harder than ever. Before he could explain further, he felt it—a shift in the air, something dark and heavy.

Naruto’s bloodlust.

It was sudden, raw, like a wave of malice washing over the room. Bloodlust, Hiruzen knew, was an illusion cast by the remnants of Yin chakra from the dead. Each shinobi’s bloodlust was unique, tied to their kills. The more kills a Shinobi had, the stronger their bloodlust.

But Naruto’s… it was like nothing Hiruzen had ever felt before. It was as if he was surrounded by corpses, as if they were rising around him, animated and malevolent, biting and clawing at his skin.

Hiruzen tapped his fingers lightly, releasing a burst of chakra that shattered the illusion, dispelling the bloodlust. He had to act quickly—the Anbu might have intervened, and that would have made things worse. He couldn’t afford to let this spiral any further.

Hiruzen tapped his fingers lightly, releasing a burst of chakra that shattered the illusion, dispelling the bloodlust. He had to act quickly—the Anbu might have intervened, and that would have made things worse. He couldn’t afford to let this spiral any further.

Naruto stood up suddenly, as if to leave, and Hiruzen’s heart clenched. He couldn’t let him go. Not like this. Not without saying something.

“I did protect you,” Hiruzen said, his voice rougher than he intended. Naruto paused at the door but didn’t turn. The silence between them was thick, suffocating.

“A Jinchuriki isn’t something unique to Konoha,” Hiruzen continued, his voice steadier now, desperate to make Naruto understand. “All five great villages have their own. In Sunagakure, their Jinchuriki is physically and mentally abused, tormented from the moment they can remember.”

Hiruzen had made sure of that—made sure Naruto was protected, even when he didn’t know it. He had ensured that no one could touch him in those early years, that no one could harm him physically. But emotional scars? The ones that came from isolation, from the whispered insults, the glares, the loneliness… He hadn’t protected Naruto from that, and it gnawed at him now.

The silence between them grew heavier. Hiruzen couldn’t even begin to guess what was going on in Naruto’s mind. Was he angry? Hurt? Confused?

“Thanks for being a decent human,” Naruto muttered, his tone cold, detached. It was a stab to Hiruzen’s heart.

The hokage winced. Naruto wasn’t wrong. He’d done the bare minimum—kept him alive, made sure he wasn’t openly abused. But was that enough?

No!

After the Kyuubi attack, the village had been in such a fragile state. Kumo had been threatening war, there was the Uchiha situation festering like a wound, and then there was Danzo… Always Danzo, always scheming.

His plate had been full—overflowing, really. But that didn’t excuse it. Hiruzen still should have done better. Naruto deserved better.

I failed you, Kushina. I failed you, Minato.

Goddamn this stupid hat and its responsibilities. Hiruzen cursed silently, feeling the old frustrations bubbling beneath the surface. He was an old man, for the Sage’s sake! He had led this village for over fifty years. He hadn’t even had time to properly mourn his wife and children’s deaths, and here he was, still leading, still trying to keep everything from crumbling. His bones ached with the weight of it all, but he couldn’t stop.

And yet…

None of it mattered in this moment. None of my sacrifices, none of my excuses.

The sound of the doorknob turning snapped Hiruzen out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw Naruto, ready to leave. His heart lurched in his chest. No. Not like this. Not again.

In one last desperate attempt, Hiruzen spoke. “I didn’t tell the village about you.”

Naruto stopped, turning slowly to face him, his expression unreadable. His eyes asked the question his lips didn’t: Who?

“After you were born, the Fourth Hokage—Minato—wanted you to be seen as a hero. The hero who kept the village safe.”

Naruto snorted at that, a bitter, hollow sound.

Hiruzen couldn’t blame him.

Minato, bless his soul, had always been too trusting of the village, too hopeful. He had believed in the people’s ability to see past their grief and pain, to see the sacrifice that had been made. But they hadn’t. They couldn’t.

“The people couldn’t accept it,” Hiruzen continued, his voice softer now. “Seeing the level of pain and grief the village was in, they wouldn’t honor Minato’s dying request. They were too consumed by their own hurt, their own fears. So I kept it a secret. I waited, hoping you’d grow into it, that you’d be ready to bear that truth when the time came. But… by the time you were five, the secret was leaked. And I had to make my law to stop it from spreading any further.”

Hiruzen watched Naruto, hoping—praying—that something, anything he said would reach him. He had made so many mistakes before, with Asuma, with Orochimaru, with Tsunade.

Every time, he’d let things go too far. Every time, he thought he could wait.

That, things would fix themselves if he just gave them time.

But that was Hiruzen’s greatest failing. Not stepping in sooner. Not stopping the damage before it was too late.

And now, standing here, watching Naruto’s expression harden, the old man feared he was too late again.

Naruto raised his hand, and as Hiruzen watched, his skin lightened, turning ashen. That’s when Hiruzen felt it—heat. The air in the room grew thick, heavy, like the very oxygen was burning away. Instinctively, he licked his lips, but they were already dry, parched by the sudden change. The temperature climbed quickly, almost unnaturally.

What in the world?

Hiruzen had mastered all five chakra natures, boasting what many would call the greatest understanding of chakra nature manipulation in the world. And yet, as that small fireball began to form in Naruto’s palm, Hiruzen felt something he hadn’t experienced in years—his own fire chakra being suppressed. It was as though the flames in his own body, the essence of fire he had long mastered, were being suffocated.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed. The tension in the room was palpable. His Anbu guards sensed it too, the danger radiating from Naruto like a furnace about to explode. One of them moved instantly, appearing in front of Hiruzen as a shield, while the other dashed toward Naruto, preparing to restrain him.

But in a move that left Hiruzen speechless, Naruto reacted before the Anbu’s blade could even come close. His movements were fluid, instinctive, as though he could see the Anbu coming—twisting on the balls of his feet, deflecting the attack with a grace and precision far beyond his years. And then, in the blink of an eye, he was about to fireball the Anbu point-blank.

No!

In that instant, Hiruzen unleashed his bloodlust.

Everything in the room froze. The air itself seemed to stop, and all eyes were drawn to him. Naruto, the Anbu—all of them—were caught in the illusion Hiruzen had cast, an illusion born from decades of war and death. Before their eyes was a mountain of corpses, each one a life Hiruzen had taken, each one a testament to the blood he had spilled. And there, atop that mountain, he sat like the Monkey King, gazing down upon them.

“Dismissed,” Hiruzen said coldly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

The Anbu vanished, leaving only Hiruzen and Naruto. Hiruzen watched as the boy stood there, slightly shaken but holding himself together better than most would have. Even chunin couldn’t have responded like that to an Anbu— even if the Anbu was holding back—but Naruto? He did.

And then Hiruzen’s eyes caught something—an axe, shimmering in Naruto’s hand. He blinked, and it disappeared. Space-time ninjutsu?

No, impossible. Naruto couldn’t possibly know a space-time jutsu, could he? Hiruzen nearly laughed at the absurdity of the thought, but the question still gnawed at him. What just happened?

Before Hiruzen could ask, Naruto’s voice cut through the silence. “Where’s the guy that ruined my life?”

Hiruzen’s heart clenched. He knew who Naruto meant—Danzo. Damn that man. Even in banishment, his shadow loomed over them all. Hiruzen spoke quickly, keeping his voice steady. “I’ve dealt with him.”

Naruto wasn’t satisfied with the answer—Hiruzen could see it in his eyes. Naruto turned to leave again, his hand already on the door. Desperate to understand where they stood, Hiruzen asked, “Naruto, I’ve never seen that fire jutsu before. Can you tell me how you learned it?”

It wasn’t the fire jutsu that truly intrigued Hiruzen, though he needed to know about it. What he really wanted to know was how that axe had appeared and disappeared. The fire jutsu was a puzzle, yes, but the axe… That was something else entirely. He asked the question to see where he stood with Naruto now. Was he still his Jiji? Or had that bond been severed, lost in the whirlwind of secrets and pain?

The silence stretched, heavy and unbearable. Hiruzen watched Naruto’s back, hoping for something—anything—that might reassure him that the boy he once knew was still there.

But Naruto didn’t even turn around.

His response hit Hiruzen like a slap to the face. “Fuck off!”

Hiruzen stood there in stunned silence as the door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the office. Slowly, he closed his eyes, trying to collect himself. Naruto’s words, his anger—it was like a dagger in Hiruzen’s chest, twisting deeper with every second. I’ve lost him. Kami, I’ve lost him.

Hiruzen looked down at his old, weathered hands, at the smoking pipe still resting on his desk, and then at the portraits of the Hokage hanging on the wall. His gaze lingered on the fourth picture—the bright blue eyes, the spiky blond hair, the jaw-length bangs that belonged to Minato Namikaze.

You should be here, Hiruzen thought bitterly. You should be wearing this hat, not me.