Summary: The creation of an ascended being puts a strain on reality. A little too much effort on his part or even just a slight loss of control may very well result in a tear—a warping of time and space itself. Unfortunately, Naruto and Sasuke have to pay the consequences. [Time-Travel. Warring Clans Era. No Yaoi. No Bashing.]

Hands of Time

Chapter 6: Tiny Changes

~o0O0o~

The great demon fox watched as stars fell from the skies, banished from their rightful place in the heavens. Every year on this autumn day, the skies would fill with celestial light, and the Kyūbi would find himself mesmerized by the sheer radiance of it all. Usually, such a sight would leave him speechless, marveling at the great mysteries of the universe.

But not now. Tonight, the beauty of the world around him failed to quell his sense of irritation. He lowered his head to glare balefully at the mortal before him. It was leaning against the wall, eyes shut, chest heaving with a hypnotic rhythm.'

It was also snoring quite obnoxiously.

How baffling it was to think something so small and weak and annoying as a human had somehow imprisoned his soul. His strength was endless, as vast as the seas themselves. His roar was thunder, his breath an inferno, and when he was truly enraged entire nations fled from the devastation of the Bijū Dama.

So how could this boy contain a being as supreme as he? How could his body withstand such formidable power without burning to a crisp?

He couldn't; it wasn't just unlikely, it was downright impossible.

Well, the impossible was currently snoring in his cave.

The Kyūbi heaved a sigh.

It wasn't like he wasn't curious. If anything, his interest skyrocketed. There was something about this boy with hair like the sun, something that urged the him to look closer and deeper. So he waited, watching patiently until the time was ideal.

When the stars finally ceased in their mass exodus and the sun burst across the horizon in bright beams of gold, he made his move.

Slowly, he reached across the cave, a single wickedly-sharp claw extended. When the spear-like appendage made contact with a metal plate engraved with a stylized leaf, the world rippled and vanished.

~o0O0o~

It was a vast expanse, further than the eye could see. The skies—if they were skies—were as white as the ground. The Kyūbi found himself tapping the ground, testing the durability of this strange new substance he was standing on.

"You're late." To compare the sound to a human's would be to compare a puddle to an ocean: outrageously disproportionate.

This guttural boom was more akin to a rockslide or an avalanche than any voice.

Instinct awakened, and the great Kyūbi no Yōko faced its threat with its limbs tensed, fangs bared, and eyes a furious shade of red.

There was a moment a silence as two demons sized each other up, twin forests of tails flowing and weaving behind them. At a casual glance, one would see brothers. One was larger, almost twice the size of the other with its pelt a darker maroon. It radiated an incomprehensible strength, its eyes gleaming with a sinister light and terrifying intelligence.

But there was something different about the smaller fox. Its presence was grander, something that could not be explained away by mere size. More than that, though, it felt like it did not belong.

"And you are a fool," Kurama bit back. "Still snapping at everything that so much as approaches you."

Massive red brows drew together as lips pulled back in a frightening snarl. "I have half a mind to leave." The Kyūbi had no intention of sitting here and being insulted by this shadow of himself.

To his surprise the smaller fox snorted, "Of course you want to leave. You're afraid."

The world seemed to slow to a stop.

"What was that?"

Kurama smirked. "Beings as ancient as the Tailed-Beasts are used to their power, their immortality, the assurance that they will endure for an eternity. They cannot comprehend that it could ever be taken away." The Kyūbi said nothing, and Kurama continued, "The sight of yourself so weakened scares you, doesn't it? It's not that you will eventually be trapped inside a human, although that's certainly not a desirable outcome for you. It's the fact that I seem lesser now."

The Kyūbi's hackles rose, and Kurama instinctively rose his own in response to a very real threat. "What did you do?" the Kyūbi hissed. "What utter stupidity could possibly split our chakra? Who could possibly do something that only father could have done?!"

And they stared at each other, eyes tracking the tiniest of movements. A flick of the ears could be the only signal of a berserker charge, the twitch of a tail the only warning of an almighty slash of claws. There was a very good reason that samurai remained absolutely still in the moment before a duel.

"So," Kurama hazarded. "Are you ready to talk, or will you continue to let your denial fester within your mind?"

Again, the Kyūbi said nothing.

Kurama pressed on, "Deep down, you know I'm you, don't you?" His older eyes glowed with an emotion the Kyūbi couldn't quite recognize. "You have many questions, but I sense that you will not like the answers."

Something in the air, some invisible force that maintained the unspoken peace, seemed to snap.

The mere thought of death, of ending, is truly unsettling for an ageless creature. It was impossible, inconceivable, and absolutely terrifying.

"Shut up," the Kyūbi snarled. "Shut up!" Its tails writhed behind it like dying snakes, as if in preparation for an impending eruption. The air howled with fury and the ground groaned under the force of the blows from each tail. The only thing stopping the ground from shattering outright was the fact that they weren't in the physical plane, but rather a corporeal manifestation of their subconsciousness.

Kurama merely sat back on his haunches, although if any had looked closer they would have seen muscles tensing dangerously in preparation for battle. "Choose what you want to believe. I won't tell you otherwise."

The younger fox glowered some more before it hung its head in resignation. "What do you know?"

Kurama raised his eyebrows in mild curiosity, although he took a moment to silently congratulate himself for making it through that particular confrontation with all limbs still in their proper place. "Oh? You believe me now, do you? And what was it that finally convinced you?"

The Kyūbi turned in a circle once, twice, then settled down comfortably the third time, not unlike a wolf padding down grass to build a make-shift bed. There was no grass of any sort in the dimension, but old habits were hard to break. "Who else would dare speak to me in such a manner?"

Kurama could only close his eyes in embarrassment. Had he really been like this? "Your arrogance truly knows no bounds."

The Kyūbi shot Kurama a look of annoyance which was pointedly ignored, but slowly the mood drifted to a more languid one. They sat there in silence for several minutes, simply taking in the reality of their situation.

A voice like breaking thunder obliterated the peaceful silence as surely as the sun rises.

"How far?" The question left much unsaid, but Kurama knew what his younger self meant.

From which era do you hail?

He shifted a bit, angling his head towards the ceiling. A breeze rippled through his fur with the movement. "More than one-hundred years from now."

The Kyūbi's brows shot up in undisguised surprise. "A century?"

Kurama closed his eyes as a gust of wind swept through the room, waiting for the zephyrs to die away before he explained. "The strength of the Jūbi was far too great to be contained. None in the future had the strength that father once had, not so much as a fraction of his mastery. When an Uchiha dared to become the jinchūriki of the Ten-Tails, he blundered when he fought us."

"Blundered?" That didn't sound good.

Kurama nodded. "He slipped. Lost control for a single moment."

"And then?" That couldn't be it, after all.

"Then . . . I'm not sure . . ." Kurama trailed off as confusion and frustration warred in his features. "Our last memories are of fighting, then of a blackness so pure that it seemed to devour all light. Moments later, we awoke in front of Uchiha Madara himself." The Uchiha's name wasn't said so much as it was snarled.

Silence reigned as the Kyūbi pondered on that detail. It noted absently that its counterpart held quite a bit of hatred for this Madara, then tucked away that piece of information into the back of its mind.

It stalked closer, stopping a mere dozen yards away from its older counterpart. "And here you stand."

It was far more than that, but true nonetheless.

"And here I stand," Kurama agreed, the picture of tranquility. Inside, though, he was seething. Blasted Uchiha . . . "Come. We must talk elsewhere."

The air rippled, and then they were in the room Kurama had been imprisoned for the past seventeen years, the only irregularities being that there was no cage anymore and that the water on the floor had vanished. The responsible factor dosed comfortably, curled up against one of Kurama's tails in his slumber.

The great fox glance down at Naruto with something akin to affection, then turned to throw a hard stare back at his larger counterpart. "He is not himself. He cannot be blamed for his state right now, no matter how pitiful."

The Kyūbi snarled then, its baritone voice shaking the very ground, "Well you need to fix him. We only have a day until they arrive, and I would rather kill the human than be the laughingstock of our family for presenting such a sniveling creature!"

The world threatened to shatter under the sudden influx of killing-intent as Kurama's rumbling growl broke the air. The foxes' bodies may have differed in size, but their voices were matched. But at that moment, they were not equals. As he rose before his larger counterpart, Kurama's ferocity knew no bounds. "You will not touch him."

The Kyūbi narrowed its eyes at the snarled command, struggling against the instinctive urge to obey. "And why not? He is weak." It took a menacing step forward, causing Kurama to bristle and flash fangs thicker than trees. "You will make him strong before I am forced to do so."

What happened next, though, surprised the Kyūbi.

Kurama laughed. Not just laughed, howled, as his counterpart stared at him in annoyance and a bit of anger. The Kyūbi held its tongue until Kurama calmed down, then demanded, "Why do you laugh? Do you find it amusing that your vessel is so helpless?" He didn't like being laughed at one bit, even if it was technically himself doing the laughing.

An amused snort. "I laugh because you truly have no idea what this boy is capable of."

The Kyūbi scoffed dismissively, "He's only human."

A world of meaning gave weight to that dismissal.

Humans steal, rape, torture, and murder. They are weak in both body and mind, and their morals are easily swayed. Despite thousands of years of war and famine, they never learn. To be human is not a noble thing.

Kurama's eyes glinted as he caught the hidden meaning. He couldn't deny it, but there were still obvious holes in the argument. One point in particular stood as a champion to the human spirit.

"Father was human," he said.

Teacher, healer, prophet, protecter, savior.

A man unlike any before him, perhaps, but still a man.

There was a moment of shocked silence before the Kyūbi drew itself up to its full, gargantuan height in a very real threat. Its thunderous expression was positively demonic and its eyes were vengeful pits of helfire. "You dare liken this sniveling sack of flesh to father?!"

The area burst into the center of a raging gale. Winds that could tear down entire forests ripped through the air. Neither of the beasts moved, though, as they stared each other down.

Something ignited, and Kurama's eyes burned. The glow of those red eyes could not be explained away with rage alone. "This 'sack of flesh' is father's legacy."

The Kyūbi stopped dead in its tracks, jaw flopping open like that of a dying fish. It took it a moment to compose itself. "Father's what?"

"Well . . . half of it, anyway."

~o0O0o~

"Hashirama-dono, it is an honor to been invited to this joyous occasion." A tall, broad-shouldered man smiled, offering his hand in greeting. He was dark-haired with a well-grown goatee and light skin. His every movement rippled with a layer of tightly coiled muscle

"Please, Sasuke-dono, don't stand on ceremony on my account." The other man may have been tall and muscular, but Hashirama easily put him to shame on both counts.

The young clan heads of the Senju and the Sarutobi respectively bowed to one another then took their positions at the head of a large dining hall, alongside the head of the Uzumaki clan. As soon as the three clan heads had taken their positions, everyone else in the dining hall, roughly four-hundred people, took their seats.

Sarutobi Sasuke adjusted himself in his seat with a slight grin, mischievously winking at Hashirama. "Who would've thought, eh? An idiot like you getting married to a woman as beautiful as Lady Mito. There really are miracles." He shook his head with wonder, then reached out for a cup of sake and took a deep swig.

Hashirama immediately stooped in depression, all traces of good-natured joviality fleeing his features. "So you're still saying stuff like that about me. I bet you even gossip to women about me behind my back." He sunk even lower. "If it's like that, it's a wonder that Mito agreed to marry me at all." By now, it was as though Hashirama was sure to lobotomize himself out of sorrow.

Sasuke looked on with a deadpan, decidedly unimpressed. "Are you quite done? You know you have a feast to attend to." He wasn't surprised in the least when the Senju clan head suddenly roared with laughter.

"But still," Hashirama sneered in a voice so out-of-character that everyone who heard it turned around to stare. "I'm getting married before you!" He stuck out his tongue obnoxiously, and Sasuke merely glared before taking another swig from his cup.

"Eh-hem!"

Hashirama turned around.

Mito was right behind him.

Mito did not look happy.

Her red hair floated ominously out of her twin buns, writhing in the air like she was some wraith. Everyone not immediately involved in the situation wisely looked away and occupied themselves with their food and sake.

Hashirama laughed weakly. "Eheheh, hi, Mito-chan?"

"Are you actually bragging about our marriage like it's some sort of contest?"

"O-Of course not! You know I'd never do that!" Hashirama started to sweat under his fiancé's scrutiny.

"Oho~. So you're saying that there's no way you've ever wave our union around like a plaything."

Hashirama's nod was both jerky and unconvincing.

Mito frowned for a moment, considering his words before she smiled sweetly. Her hair returned to normal, and the oppressive aura vanished. "Good! Because if you were saying that, I'd have to kill you." Her grin was distinctively sadistic as she finished her statement. She then turned and walked out of the hall, presumably to make some preparations for tomorrow's ceremony.

Hashirama and Sasuke both watched wide-eyed as she left while Mito's father merely chuckled at the exchange. "She always was a feisty one. Good luck with her, Hashirama-kun. You're gonna need it."

Hashirama whimpered.

"You know what?" Sasuke said. "Congrats on getting married first. I don't know if I could handle that." He took another swig, emptied his cup, then just reached for the bottle and started drinking straight from that instead.

Hashirama buried his face in his hands and began to rock back and forth in his seat.

~o0O0o~

In one life, Senju Tobirama was a pioneer of jutsu, a brilliant teacher, a fearsome warrior, and a legendary leader. In this one, he was still just the best fighter the Senju had to offer. Hence why he was defending the Senju borders while his brother was getting married. Large celebrations tended to leave the clan open to attacks from outsiders. Although Hashirama had wanted his brother to be there to witness the ceremony, Tobirama himself insisted on patrolling instead. Better safe than sorry.

Soundlessly, he stood on the tree branch he'd been crouching on. Before him was a small thicket: an ideal hiding place for any would-be infiltrator. He didn't even look up when someone landed lightly on the branch next to his.

"Tōka," he acknowledged.

"Tobirama," the woman replied. The two were opposites in nearly every sense. Where his hair was light, hers was dark. Where his was spiky, hers was straight. His skin was pale while hers was a healthy tan. He was large and powerfully built like a lion, but Tōka was more like a panther: lean and lithe. And where Tōka's eyes were the same rich brown as Hashirama's, Tobirama's were crimson.

In personality, however, the two were identical.

Decisive, calculating, and cold.

"Are the others ready for the sweep?" Tobirama asked.

"Yes. Although some are disappointed about missing the wedding," Tōka replied with a snort.

"Trivial matters."

"Indeed."

"Let's move."

They vanished from the branch, the only trace that they'd ever been there leaves swirling in the wind.

As expected, there were indeed would-be infiltrators hiding in the thicket, a trio of shinobi from the Hagoromo clan. They asked for no quarter and were given none, choosing instead to die honorably as shinobi. Although their abilities had been lacking, their courage was something that Tobirama could respect. Not many could stand their ground when faced with his water dragon.

As the other six members of their team dealt with the bodies, he turned to Tōka. She was watching him again, one eye shadowed by a bang, shuriken twirling around a finger. Tōka was called beautiful by many men, and under the moonlight Tobirama could certainly see what they saw in her: a certain haunting quality. The fact that her armor and her face were stained with red only seemed to enhance it.

"What genjutsu did you use on them? I haven't heard screams like that since Madara awoke his Mangekyō."

Tōka hmm'd, then sent her shuriken whipping into a nearby tree where it stuck with a dull thud. "It's a new technique of mine. I call it the Hell-viewing Genjutsu. Why waste the effort to create a genjutsu when your enemies can just be crippled by their own worst fears?"

Tobirama tilted his heads in bemusement, and off to the side his other clan members set the bodies on fire with a minor fire jutsu. The putrid stench of burning flesh began to waft through the air, but he ignored it with practiced ease. "You turned their own minds against them?"

"Yes. Quite ingenius of me, really. This way I expend about half the amount of chakra I do for a regular genjutsu, and it's doubly effective."

Tobirama glanced at her in intrigue. That was ingenius. "Have you tested it on anyone else yet?" The unspoken question lingered in the air, causing Tōka to look at him once more.

"Anyone with a sharingan, you mean." Tobirama said nothing, and Tōka continued, "No, this is the first time I've used my Hell-viewing genjutsu."

"We should capture a sharingan user, for testing purposes of co—"

The ground began to shake and thunder filled the air. Tobirama and Tōka both widened their eyes in alarm before jumping up onto the nearest tree for a vantage point. Their jaws hit the ground. A spiky ball nearly the size of a small mountain was rolling through the forest, shredding countless trees in its wake. And in that moment, Tobirama felt a chakra that outstripped anything he had ever encountered. An ancient, fathomless power, greater than his brother's and Madara's combined.

What was that?

Then as quickly as it came, it left.

After a moment of quiet awe, Tobirama turned to Tōka. "You take over guarding the borders. I will go follow that thing."

"To try to use it?" she asked. "You're more likely to get squashed without that thing even knowing you're there."

"Would you rather the Uchiha got to it first?" he replied. Then he reached behind himself and withdrew a single kunai. As Tōka watched, inky symbols crept over the handle. She frowned in confusion. "What is that?" she asked.

"This," Tobirama said, gesturing to his kunai, "is what I'll be using to follow that thing from a distance. You aren't the only one who has been working on new jutsu."

Tōka raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what do you call this new jutsu of yours?"

The moonlight suddenly filtered through the clouds, and Tōka was treated to one of Tobirama's rare smiles: an expression that made him seem alive and young and free. An emotion she couldn't quite identify fluttered in her chest, and she stepped forward. "Tobirama." He turned, and she faltered under the force of his gaze. She crushed her hesitance. Some things just couldn't wait to be said. "Don't die out there."

For a moment, the only sounds were the crackles of the flames as the corpses burned. Then Tobirama nodded, a shadow of a smile playing across his face.

"Hiraishin."

And he was gone. Tōka just stared at where he'd been for about ten seconds, before she sighed and said, "Now that's just unfair."

~o0O0o~

Author's Note: Hey. I'm alive. Shocking, I know. I am sincerely sorry that I haven't updated in nearly a year. I really have no excuses for you guys, and I'd much rather not rant about all of the stuff that's going on in my life. However, know that this story isn't abandoned. But please please please don't get on my case for not updating often enough. It makes me feel ridiculously guilty.

That being said, I'm in college now. Updating is probably my thirtieth priority at the moment.

Anyway, sorry for the short chapter, but I just felt like I should post something since I sure as Hell wasn't going to write any more any time soon.

As always, feel free to PM me with any questions you may have. If nothing else, I'm a sucker for a good conversation.

Well, that's about it.

Regards,

Duesal Bladesinger