Inside the seal space...
Naruto and the Fourth Hokage sat across from each other in silence, eyes locked.
As soon as the Nine-Tails realized Naruto wasn't actually going to tear off the seal, it gave up and went back to sleep. What just happened was far too terrifying for the fox — if that went on any longer, he swore he'd develop chakra-induced neurosis.
The first tailed beast in history to suffer a mental breakdown? No thanks.
Not wanting to get mixed up in the family drama, the Nine-Tails had retreated to the farthest corner of the seal.
> "What did you do to Kurama?"
Minato asked, rubbing his forehead.
"I've never seen him try so hard to avoid someone. Not even when Kushina used to tie him up to that chakra post back in the day."
> "Nothing serious," Naruto shrugged.
"Just played a few games with him.
He wasn't in the mood to get into it.
> "Ah... I see."
Awkward silence.
The two of them just stared at each other — big eyes to slightly smaller eyes.
Minato looked at his son with a slight headache building. This was his first time acting like a father. He honestly had no idea how to talk to his own kid. He didn't even know if Naruto knew who he was… or if he'd overheard what Kurama blurted out earlier.
He was a terrible father.
The words "I'm your dad" were stuck in his throat, choking him up. It felt worse than going to war with the entire Iwa-nin army.
Naruto didn't know how to start either. He didn't exactly like or hate Minato. Honestly, he didn't feel much at all.
After all, he grew up without him. They'd never shared a meal, never had a conversation, never even existed in the same moment.
To Naruto, Minato was just someone from the story. A hero, sure — bright, strong, beloved by all. But still a story.
> "So... was the whole sealing thing just to call me out here?"
Minato broke the silence, his tone gentle.
"You knew I was here?"
Naruto nodded frankly.
> "Yeah. I sensed your energy a while ago."
> "Energy?"
The term confused Minato, but he didn't ask further. He didn't have much time left.
> "So what's your goal?" he asked cautiously.
The awkward tension between them made Naruto chuckle softly.
> "To learn ninjutsu."
> "...Ninjutsu?"
Minato blinked. He had considered many possibilities — emotional pain, loneliness, questions about the past — but this one caught him off guard.
> "If you want to learn ninjutsu, you could've asked Lord Hiruzen. He would've had someone teach you. You didn't have to go this far—"
> "No one in Konoha's going to teach me."
Naruto cut him off coldly. The warmth vanished from his voice, and sarcasm crept into his tone.
> "Who's going to teach me? The villagers who hate my guts? One of your loyal guards — all talk, no skill? Kakashi, your student, who's too broken to handle himself, let alone a student?"
> "Or maybe Jiraiya, the old perv who hasn't even bothered to show up?"
> "What about the Third Hokage himself? The kindly old liar? Or that snake in the shadows, Danzo Shimura?"
Naruto's voice was firm and bitter.
> "No one's going to help me. I've been on my own since the beginning."
Minato froze.
> "That… can't be right."
> "You don't believe me?"
Naruto raised his brow, and his blue eyes pierced straight through Minato, trying to read the man's soul.
The truth was, Naruto didn't hate Minato. He understood that he had died to protect the village and his family. But if any normal person had gone through even half of what he had, they would've snapped by now.
Not everyone can take hit after hit and still smile.
> "You want to see?" Naruto asked.
"Everything I've been through? My entire past?"
> "Forever brings trouble," Kurama muttered, tail flicking in annoyance.
"If it were me, I'd have crushed this hypocrite village ages ago. The only reason this brat hasn't done it is because of how much he values the place you gave your life to protect."
So much for not getting involved in family drama. The fox had clearly been listening the whole time.
> "I..."
Minato hesitated. Kurama's words only deepened the unease growing in his chest.
Something wasn't right.
> "I want to see it."
> "Alright," Naruto said simply.
He raised a hand, and a glowing sphere of energy formed in his palm. With a flick of his fingers, it exploded into radiant particles of light that filled the air.
The seal space twisted and warped, reshaping into a new form — a moving memory.
In the center of the vision stood a younger Naruto, barely a toddler.
Using Ki — which can sense and share emotion — and with full control of the seal space's visuals, Naruto displayed his past like a projection.
> At age one, someone had poured scalding water down his throat. It nearly damaged his voice box permanently. Even now, his voice held a permanent rasp.
At age two, an old lady — supposedly his caretaker — had strung him up for stepping out with his left foot. If the Third hadn't "coincidentally" passed by, he might not have survived.
> Once he was weaned off milk, everything he ate was filled with... things.
Sand. Pebbles. Weeds. Bugs. Worse than bugs.
Thanks to the Third Hokage's gag order, villagers could no longer openly call him "the demon fox." Instead, they just called him "that thing."
They weren't allowed to physically harm him anymore, so they used isolation, cold shoulders, and hateful whispers. Children picked up their parents' hate, and the adults encouraged them to bully Naruto.
It continued until none of them could beat him anymore.
The air around Naruto had been drenched in hate for as long as he could remember.
Still, he smiled through it.
He had to.
Why?
Because Naruto wasn't just a child. He had the mind of an adult. And he was tired of eating filth, tired of being broken.
At age three, he started cooking his own food.
No one would sell him supplies. His allowance? Useless — no one would accept his money.
So he built a home by hand.
He dug fields. Fished. Foraged. Trapped. Hunted.
Stored food. Made his own little world.
He dreamed of living free and strong — off the land, self-made.
Then one day...
His home was destroyed. Again.
No one ever understood what that little house meant to Naruto.
They didn't realize that when they destroyed his shelter — they weren't just breaking his home.
They were breaking his heart.