Chapter 36:
-
Naruto sat down hard as the transformation bled out of him. Steam curled off his skin while muscle, bone, and chakra crawled back into their proper places with an itchy wrongness.
“Wow,” he breathed, flexing his fingers as sensation finished snapping back into place, his voice caught somewhere between awe and grief. “My mom had the prettiest hair.”
The memories were still pouring in and not gently. It felt like a dam had cracked and everything behind it was rushing through him at once, vivid and sharp and not entirely his. The residue of the shadow clone that had sat across from his father and let himself be pulled under without resistance.
Photographs he had never seen were suddenly his, the way ink and paper curled at the edges with age. Stories too, but not the polished ones people told at memorials, but rather the raw, embarrassing, living details that only existed because someone had been there to witness them.
Kushina at the academy, loud and bright and stubborn, all cheeks and fire and defiance. Her chubbiness earning the nickname Tomato. Kushina older, sharper, her temper legendary, red hair whipping like a banner when she moved, earning a new name from the same mouths that once mocked her. Flaming Tamale, it had been spoken with equal parts fear and admiration.
Minato tracking her once across half the village by a single strand of that hair caught on a fence post. How his heart in his throat the entire time, terrified he was too late, terrified she would be gone before he ever learned how to say her name without stumbling. The secret courtship that followed, meetings tucked between missions and curfews. The stolen hours that felt like treason and salvation all at once. The quiet wedding, without fanfare or politics. Simple vows whispered like they might shatter if spoken too loudly.
The argument over his name, half laughter and half exhaustion, with Minato insisting that if their son was going to inherit a mess of fate and expectation he should at least carry a name born from something honest. Or at least something foolish and heartfelt. Jiraiya’s worst selling book, the one no one took seriously, the one that somehow felt right.
And then the memory turned.
Obito’s masked face, the world breaking open in fire and screams, the death of the Third’s wife bleeding into the night like a curse finally spoken aloud. The fox unleashed, hatred given form, the ground tearing itself apart beneath it. Minato fighting with terrible, precise resolve, every movement weighed against the knowledge that there would be no clean ending.
The genjutsu had cut there, not because the memory ended, but because Minato had chosen to stop. Naruto felt the shape of what came next anyway, felt it like an absence so loud it roared. Death. Sealing. The moment his life had been set on rails before he could cry.
His father had spoken after, quietly, explaining what he could, what he thought Naruto was ready to hear. But even then, Naruto could tell there were gaps, deliberate ones, about how they died and how the sealing went.
He was still having information hidden from him.
Chakra surged up his spine like a scream, red and violent, boiling under his skin as if the fox had tasted blood again and decided it liked the flavor. His breath hitched, nails digging into the ground, heat flooding his senses as the world sharpened into threat and hunger.
“Oh,” Jiraiya said brightly, stepping back a half pace while already forming a seal, his tone infuriatingly casual given the storm building inside Naruto. “Ready to go again already? Well, we only prepared one more shadow clone, but I think it’ll knock you out faster than that last one.”
Naruto dragged in a breath that tasted like iron, teeth clenched as he fought the instinct to bare them at everything that moved.
“Ready, Minato?” Jiraiya asked.
“Ready,” his father replied without hesitation, voice steady.
His eyes were soft but unyielding as he met Naruto’s gaze.
-
The academy yard had been cleared and repurposed into something that felt halfway between a parade ground and a tribunal. Lines of students funneling in under the watchful eyes of jonin until the noise thinned into a nervous hush, genin and chunin alike standing straighter than usual as Kakashi and Itachi waited at the front.
Naruto lingered near the edge as the last groups filed in, waving his arm high when he spotted familiar faces. Konohamaru’s gang peeled off from their cluster almost immediately, all grins and relief until they were close enough to see his expression and slowed.
“Hey,” Naruto said, rubbing the back of his neck, smile crooked but genuine. “Been a weird week.”
Konohamaru snorted.
“That’s your normal.”
Naruto huffed a laugh, then let it trail off, the weight of recent memories still sitting heavy behind his eyes.
“Yeah, well. Uh. I’ve been having some… problems. With girls. And my dad.”
That got their attention.
He kept it vague on purpose, no names, no details, just enough to bleed off pressure without cracking anything open.
“Turns out both of those things are complicated. More than I thought.”
Konohamaru nodded slowly, hands shoved into his pockets, gaze distant in a way Naruto recognized all too well.
“Yeah. I get that. Having a grandpa who was Hokage was rough. Everyone compared me to him. Expected me to be him.” He glanced back up. “A dad like that has to be worse.”
Naruto exhaled, some of the tightness in his chest easing.
“We’re… working it out,” he said, and meant it, the smile that followed softer than his usual bravado.
Then the thought hit him sideways, sharp and unwelcome, and the smile faded.
Konohamaru would never get that chance. There was no working it out with the Third. No late conversations, no explanations that filled in the gaps, just memories frozen where death had cut them off. Naruto’s mind jumped, unbidden, toward forbidden solutions, toward pale hands and snake eyes and the obscene possibility of asking Orochimaru for something that should never be requested.
No. He shut that door hard. Some lines mattered.
“Um,” Moegi said, voice small but determined, stepping closer as if bracing herself. “If you’re having trouble with romance stuff… I have books. They’re supposed to help.”
Naruto blinked, then broke into a grateful grin.
“Thanks. Seriously. That’ll be really helpful.”
“Romance stuff?” Sakura’s voice cut in with surgical timing. “Tell us more.”
Naruto turned to find her leaning casually against Hinata, who looked like she was attempting to fold into herself and vanish through the ground.
Hinata flushed and shot Sakura a look.
“S-Sakura, don’t tease him. This is hard on all of us.”
Sakura sighed theatrically but relented, hands up in surrender.
“Pfft. Speak for yourself. But okay. I'll save it for later.”
The last of the summoned shinobi settled into place, the air shifting as attention snapped forward and bodies aligned by instinct rather than order.
Kakashi stepped up, visible eye sweeping the crowd.
“Here’s the situation. You’re all here because we’re testing chakra natures today. Those of you with fire, wind, or water affinity may be eligible for a new training program.”
Itachi moved forward as Kakashi stepped back, posture calm, presence immediately silencing the yard.
“I possess a genjutsu called Tsukuyomi,” Itachi said, voice even, unadorned. “It allows me to create a temporal illusion under my complete control. Within it, hours or days may pass while only moments elapse outside. For this program, the duration will be limited to a few hours to reduce strain.”
A ripple moved through the ranks.
“I have used this technique before,” he continued, gaze flicking briefly to Naruto. “Naruto Uzumaki learned advanced shuriken replication and kamikaze shadow clone techniques within minutes under Tsukuyomi.”
Naruto felt eyes slide toward him. Some were impressed, others curious, but none skeptical. He scratched his cheek, pretending not to notice.
Shikamaru raised a hand halfway.
“So you’re saying you can just… make us relive your own training in these elements?”
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Tsunade said, stepping forward as an entire squad of med-nin fanned out behind her.
“He wasn’t exaggerating about the strain,” she added. “We’ll be monitoring recovery. Participation is voluntary. No one will be forced into this.”
Kakashi passed around stacks of paper, his tone shifting back into instructor mode.
“Take one and pass it down. Focus chakra into it. Burning means fire. Damp means water. Cutting means wind. If it crumples or turns to dust that means lightning and earth. I can't help you with that.”
The stacks of paper were passed along the lines of chunin, Genin and academy students. Naruto took one and did as instructed. The paper split cleanly down the middle.
It took only a few moments for everyone else to finish the task as well. It wasn't exactly difficult.
"Okay." said Itachi clapping his hands. "If you have wind, fire or water and wish to proceed please form on of three lines in front of me."
Naruto found himself in the shortest line by far, standing beside a teenage monk with black hair and a heavily bandaged arm, and Konohamaru.
He grinned and high-fived his apprentice.
“Guess you’re stuck with me.”
Itachi surveyed the groups and inclined his head.
“We’ll begin with wind. It is the smallest group, and Naruto Uzumaki is the only subject for whom Tsukuyomi-based instruction has proven successful.”
No one objected.
“Look directly into my eyes,” Itachi instructed. "All three of you.
Naruto did, heartbeat steadying as the world folded inward, reality peeling away as Tsukuyomi closed around them and time itself bent to Itachi’s will.
-
A few days later, Naruto found himself walking into Tsunade’s office alongside Sasuke, Sakura, Kakashi, and Itachi.
Sasuke had called the meeting, which alone was enough to put everyone on edge.
He stood near the window instead of the desk. He kept his arms folded and his posture rigid in that way that meant he had rehearsed this conversation a dozen times already and still wasn’t satisfied with any version of it.
“I think I can bridge the gap in the elemental training,” Sasuke said, getting straight to it. “Itachi can only teach fire, wind, and water through Tsukuyomi. That leaves lightning and earth.”
Kakashi’s visible eye sharpened with interest.
“Without an ounce of hubris,” Sasuke continued, voice steady, “I can say I am a master of lightning release. If I had the Mangekyō Sharingan, I could teach lightning style as quickly as Itachi teaches wind, fire and water.”
The words hung there, heavy but deliberate.
Itachi did not react immediately. When he did speak, his voice was gentle but unyielding.
“Simply transplanting my old eyes will not achieve that. You must awaken the Mangekyō yourself.”
Sasuke’s jaw tightened.
“I know. And I won’t do it the traditional way. “I won’t kill Naruto,” Sasuke added flatly. “Or anyone else I care about.”
That was apparently the wrong thing to say if his goal had been to keep the room serious.
Naruto lunged first, throwing an arm around Sasuke’s shoulders.
“Aww, listen to him. He cares.”
Sakura piled on immediately, pressing in from the other side with exaggerated delight.
“We always knew you had feelings.”
Kakashi leaned in too, ruffling Sasuke’s hair like he was five.
“Such emotional growth. I’m so proud.”
Sasuke froze, horror written plainly across his face as they cooed and babied him without mercy. He suffered it with the stiff resignation of someone who knew resistance would only make it worse.
“Enough,” he snapped at last.
They released him, laughing, and he took a step away, smoothing his shirt and reclaiming his dignity by sheer force of will.
He turned back to Itachi, the levity gone.
“Is there another way to awaken it?”
Itachi hesitated.
“There is,” he said finally. “But there is no circumstance under which I would ever recommend it for you.”
Everyone in the room leaned in anyway.
“Tell us,” Sakura said.
Tsunade folded her arms.
“Now.”
Itachi exhaled, eyes closing briefly as if bracing himself.
“Well... The first step is ingesting datura.”
“We are not doing that,” Sakura and Tsunade said together, voices perfectly synchronized.
Naruto blinked.
“What’s datura?”
Sasuke frowned.
“Ithink I’ve heard the name. Probably from Kabuto.”
Tsunade rubbed her temples.
“It’s a hallucinogenic plant. A deliriant. Possibly the most dangerous one known. It produces vivid hallucinations like other substances, but instead of insight or euphoria, it induces full temporary psychosis. Schizophrenia. Delirium. Loss of identity.”
“And by temporary,” Sakura added tightly, “she means potentially years. Sometimes it's even permanent. You may spend the rest of your life smearing shit on padded walls.”
Naruto swallowed as Itachi continued.
"That is only step one. Step two is powerful genjutsu. I would place you under Tsukuyomi afterward and force you to experience killing a loved one.”
Sasuke closed his eyes, breath hitching despite himself.
“For you,” Itachi continued, voice low, “I would make you relive the massacre. As I remember it. Or the illusion of murdering Naruto.”
The room felt colder.
Sasuke opened his eyes slowly.
“I’m still working on understanding what you did,” he said. “On forgiving it. I don’t know what another experience like that would do to me.”
“I agree,” Itachi replied. “Which is why this path should remain closed.”
No one argued.
Tsunade let out a slow, incredulous breath, rubbing her forehead with two fingers.
“You know,” she said, eyes narrowing as she stared somewhere past the present and into history itself, “almost every Uchiha before the era of Madara and Hashirama had the Mangekyō. Clan records, battlefield accounts, medical notes. It shows up over and over again.”
She glanced between Sasuke and Itachi, disbelief edging her voice.
“So what, were they all just a bunch of drug-addled savages running around inducing psychosis to unlock it?” Naruto asked.
“Precisely,” he said evenly.
The subject was shelved with quiet unanimity.
Kakashi broke the silence next.
“What about me? I already have a Mangekyō. I know lightning and earth. That covers the missing elements.”
Itachi inclined his head.
“Your Mangekyō takes a heavier toll on you than it does on others. Shisui’s eye was never meant for prolonged use.”
Naruto had been quiet for too long, brow furrowed.
“There’s something weird about that,” he said. “Obito uses his all the time. He didn’t have a brother. He didn’t steal anyone’s eyes, did he?”
Itachi frowned faintly.
“I don’t know. Perhaps he has found a way to bypass the usual drawbacks.”
“We could just ask him,” Naruto said, then immediately winced.
Images surged unbidden, red and fire and screaming, his father’s memories clawing at the back of his skull. The thought of meeting the man who had killed his parents made his stomach twist.
Sasuke eyed him sidelong.
“You mean your uncle could ask him.”
Naruto’s eyes lit up.
“Yeah. That’s way better.”
“It will have to wait,” Tsunade said, already reaching for the stack of reports on her desk. “We have another alliance meeting to prepare for in a few days.”