Breaking limits

Hello y'all, the name's MRAY 4TW with his very own fanfic. I gotta say, this is my first fic... most if you should take that as a warning. Regular updates? Sure. You'll get updates inside the month; it's just that they will probably be sporadic. I have every idea planned for this story so writer's block shouldn't be a problem. If you are reading this now, that means that the whole story has, or is currently being 'tidied.' Also, I should mention that the story doesn't start with an epic explosion. Its starts a bit...slow, but it was following the story plan at the time. No, not quite. The whole story is a really slow burn. And there are some OCs (there's a huge one that I made considering the fact that Naruto's already beaten everyone in some way and it's hard to think of a new twist when everyone's done everything already. In fact, there's a bunch of 'em that enter into the fic in the twenties. If you're still curious and not turned off [congratulations and thanx], then enjoy the fic.)

-November 17, 2018: Damn, I'm here again for the thrice damned time. Rereading certain parts of this fic (especially the first twenty chapters) is pissing me off. Sure, I like to know how far I've come since 2015, but this thing needs a revamp. I'm not really editing anything plot related, but I need to make the characters into people, cut out some of the excessive Japanese courtesies, some filler and adding macron accents to stuff like names. I'll admit I'm not 100% sure how to do that… but I'm gonna try regardless.

"Kyuubi and summons speaking"
"Normal speaking"
'Thinking'
TIMESKIP: =X=X=
'Document'
"…Italics…" can be used for low-end kinds of emphasis or snide comments.
"Bold!" can be used for forceful yelling/shouting/screaming.

Disclaimer: Following this revamp, I'm not gonna repeat this crap. I don't own Naruto. I never have. I never will. All of the rights to Naruto belong to Masashi Kishimoto, Hayato Date, Shueisha, Studio Pierrot, TV Tokyo and Viz media.

1. (Prologue)

His clones had dispersed, relinquishing their memories to him that made him aware that they had performed their duties. One had completed writing a letter to his son, one had informed the old man his last wishes, and another carried a baby to his work office, and left a note in a picture frame.

He looked down at his chest and sighed with a shuddering breath.

A massive claw had pierced his wife's chest along with his own in their last ditch effort to protect their son. As his life was fleeting he started to think back to only five hours before. If one had asked him then how he was going to spend the night, the very last answer from the darkest recesses from his mind would be dying.

He looked to his red-headed wife and her to him simultaneously in the eyes. Dimming eyes shared their mutual distraught emotions, their worries and anxieties… strangely, physical pain wasn't even a part of the bandwidth. Their thoughts were communed in like fashion, both joint as their lives ended with the uncertainties surrounding their son.

It wasn't so much for the fact that they were dying, their clothes becoming drenched in a new crimson. It was the fact that they wouldn't even get to live for Naruto's sake.

There was nothing for it, nothing they could do to fight it. Darkness started to swim around the edges of their vision and their breathing slowed and became shallow. Their bodies finally gave out as they exhaled one last time as death staked its cold claim.

Minato Namikaze and Kushina Uzumaki, two of the finest shinobi of the Village Hidden in the Leaves had died, sacrificing themselves to restrain and seal the Kyuubi no Kitsune (nine tailed fox) a monstrous beast of staggering size and want of destruction. Kushina had held the beast in place with her chakra chains while Minato used a forbidden jutsu to seal the fox demon away in a newborn baby, only born a couple of hours prior.

His own son.

Although this was a decision filled with regret, he knew he had no choice because he couldn't ask anyone else's child to bear such a burden. He knew how hard Jinchūriki (power of human sacrifice) lived but he was sure he could overcome it. So he sealed the yin part of the demon's chakra in himself, and the yang portion in his son, confident he could overcome the beast's hate and be a strong shinobi in the future for the village. Kushina had also passed on her birthright to Naruto; his son had double the legacies to back him, and double the responsibilities that came with it.

But there was yet another thing that bothered him. He could always sense his rival, staring at him from his hiding place on the night of chaos. His own contender for Yondaime who believed in power hoarding, and using whatever means to get it and keep it, no matter how dishonest or disgusting they may be. Perhaps he knew that he couldn't get is own 'invented' kekkai genkai-… that had long since been sealed when his heart had been dealt a fatal wound. But what of his own son?

Hopefully, the last would be able to figure it out.

=X=X=

An old man sat in a large office with a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes slept in a small basket on the desk in front of him. As he sat in his own chair, he looked on at the sleeping infant and couldn't help but feel envious at being able to sleep just one hour after the end of one of the worst disasters to ever befall Konoha. The responsibility of having to look after a half destroyed village, didn't mean half as much work; unfortunately, it meant five times the work and ten times the stress.

The man was dressed in simple red robes being overlaid with white ones along with his badge of office, a dominantly red kite shaped hat with a white diamond patch at the forefront with the words 'Fire Shadow' written in red kanji. His face being the only exposed area of his outfit showed a tanned, wrinkled face that had a few liver spots complimented by a grey goatee and crow's feet around his eyes. However, it seemed that he had gained a few more wrinkles to add to his ever-growing collection.

Hiruzen Sarutobi was tired. No, he was burnt-out. Everyone had a load of shit on their plate but he seemed to have the biggest portion by far. He gave a weary sigh as he thought over his problems while he looked at the peaceful infant.

'The village is practically destroyed due to the Kyuubi's attack, we don't have much funding to fully rebuild, not to mention the loss of valuable lives of shinobi and civilian alike. Ugh. And there is that council meeting tomorrow and I have to step back in to take control of all of this. And to top it off Minato-kun and Kushina-chan are dead. They were the most this village had to offer to intimidate the other villages so they don't restart another war… plus the fact that their fame helped to bring in clients that kept this village afloat with funding.'

For one who was dubbed by the monikers 'The God of Shinobi,' and 'The Professor,' he didn't know what to do.

"I'm getting too old for this shit," he sighed.

Suddenly there was a sharp knock at the door.

"Oh great. Just what I needed. A distraction," he muttered before loudly announcing for the visitor to enter.

The door opened to reveal one of his Anbu captains. He was characterized by gravity defying grey hair, a mask that may have been a part of his shirt that extended from behind his flak vest to the bridge of his nose. The description was complete with a leaf hitai-ate that covered his left eye. People could only wonder what Kakashi Hatake got off by hiding at least 75% of his face. He'd probably lie if they asked anyway.

"Ahh, Kakashi-san, what can I do for you," Sarutobi welcomed.

"Is it true that sensei has died, Hokage-sama?" Kakashi asked, getting straight to the point. He could see the answer written plainly on the Hokage's face, but still waited for the elder man's response. Hiruzen frowned at the forward question and gave the man the affirmative, and Kakashi pressed on as he pointed at the baby in the basket. "And this child… his son?"

Hiruzen's face fell even more, if that much was possible. He didn't know how Kakashi came to know so quickly. Perhaps all those who knew or could come to that conclusion could be counted on a single hand. Kakashi and he included of course.

"Yes."

The copy ninja sighed as he silently grieved. He knew as much, having been charged by Minato- sensei himself to guard his wife Kushina while she was in the early stages of her pregnancy till two weeks short of the end of it. While he knew that he (Minato) died in sacrifice to save the village would not want anyone to cry for him, he couldn't help but shed a few tears from his exposed eye.

"So what are you going to do, Hokage-sama?"

"Figuring out a funeral, reasoning out the budget to fix the village, and to top it all off, I'm pondering what to say and what NOT to say to that damned council."

"Frankly, that's the easy part."

"Excuse me?" the Hokage looked at him in shock.

"Everything except his heritage. After all, we can't handle any threats by any villages that have Minato-sensei's enemies affiliated with them.."

"Especially Iwagakure…" they both stated with uncanny simultaneous effect.

They both stared at each other for well over a minute.

"Then what about the-"

"Minato-sensei told us that he wanted him to be seen as a hero."

"How did you-"

"I was beside you when his clone told you."

Hiruzen started to fervently hope he wasn't going senile. Perhaps it was due to the stress of the situation. Yes, that had to be it. Despite the bleak situation, the older of the two men managed to crack a smile. "You know, you should take this hat."

"Meh, don't feel like it."

They both started to chuckle, but they stopped when they heard a giggle. They looked around but then they heard it again coming from the basket. As they looked at the baby inhabitant who was giggling as it clutched a cheap looking necklace that the copy-cat ninja recognized as Kushina's. The necklace was merely a string running through a small wooden necklace with the words Uzu one side and a red and white swirl on the other.

The child giggled again and the previously crestfallen Hokage couldn't help but smile wider. He couldn't help but think that things might get better after all.

And done. (EDIT) It's been a few years, and I was young and green when I started. About writing, I'm no professional, but I profess to try. Too many details here, slow there, but I keep on going, and not just because of sentiment.

I'm not there yet, but I know that the distance is getting shorter.

MRay 4TW.