UPDATE: As of April 2, 2019, I have made revisions to the first three chapters, and am working on the fourth. Yes, after two whole years, this fic is updating again.

Heliocentrism

Chapter 2 – Paragon, Renegade

In which several people make hilariously wrong assumptions about Namikaze Minato's moral alignment.

According to his father, the Academy was for losers.

Well, alright, that wasn't exactly what his father had said, but Shimura Naoki had picked up the gist of it.

It only existed because a bunch of civilians had nagged and nagged until the village finally gave in and set up a school so that every kid would have a fair chance at becoming awesome shinobi. Graduation would be based on standardized tests, jounin teams would be assigned in a balanced manner, and if an oddly high proportion of the civilian kids ended up flunking out, well, that was just because they didn't have the talent for it.

Haha, what a load of bull. Naoki could see right past the fancy politics and grasp the truth underneath the underneath.

As if a civilian had any idea what 'fair' meant to a shinobi. Any idiot with a brain should have realized that no one would ever teach any truly valuable skills to anyone outside their clan. Even the Academy jutsu were all half-assed techniques that were only good for playing pranks or running away: henge was the poor man's version of a true genjutsu, kawarimi was for scrubs who weren't fast enough to shunshin, and the Academy clone was useless compared to literally any of the solid, elemental versions.

The Academy only served up half-baked imitations of true ninja techniques, smothered in a hefty dollop of propaganda. Worse, it meant that all the clan kids like Naoki who already had families to teach them the true ways of the shinobi would have to waste entire years of their lives just to keep the civilians happy. Worst of all, some of them actually started believing the bullshit the Academy taught them.

It was a good thing Naoki was a Shimura, and his clan didn't stand for any of that nonsense.

No matter how the Academy prattled on about the Will of Fire, the naked truth was that shinobi were weapons. Anything else was just a polite fiction to make the ignorant masses feel better. Shimura Naoki wouldn't let himself be fooled. He would become a true shinobi, like Danzo-sama, strong enough to walk in the shadows without ever craving the illusion of light.

Really, the Academy was just a chore that Naoki wanted to be over and done with so he could get to the cool part of becoming a true shinobi. It had nothing to offer him. All his classmates were brainwashed idiots.

And yet-

And yet-!

(-Ding- Duel Complete!) (You have defeated: Shimura Naoki LVL 10.) (+10 Reputation with Konoha.)

And yet, contrary to everything Naoki knew to be true, Namikaze Minato stubbornly existed.

Namikaze Minato, a clan-less civilian orphan with no shinobi background whatsoever, had beaten him in every single spar over the past three years.

It would have been easier to accept if Namikaze Minato had at least some semblance of shinobi pride. But no, this was Namikaze Minato, who dutifully swallowed and regurgitated all the idealistic crap that the Academy spoon fed them. Namikaze Minato, who wound up doing all the class chores because he was too spineless to turn down anyone who asked him for help. Namikaze Minato, who was always smiling like an idiot and making friends with everyone, which made Naoki wonder why the hell the dumb blonde even decided to become a shinobi in the first place.

"Thank you for the match," said Namikaze Minato, who had the gall to look apologetic for doing what he was supposed to do and beating a weaker opponent. He didn't have a single scratch on him. Worse, he stretched out his hand to help his opponent back up because he was pointlessly nice.

"Thank you for the match," Naoki echoed flatly, accepting the offered hand because it would have been childish to slap it away. It was only an Academy spar, and he could hardly call himself a shinobi if he got angry over such a trivial little thing.

Their taijutsu instructor jotted a few final notes into his logbook before snapping it shut and announcing, "And that's it for the day. Get outta here, brats."

Naoki quickly stepped out of the sparring ring, and just in time too, because his classmates immediately swarmed into the ring to surround Namikaze. This was followed by a cacophony of requests like 'Minato-kun, could you help me with the infiltration and disguise assignment? (New Quest! Survive Yako's Super Glitter Magical Girl Make-Over! Accept | Cancel )', 'Um, w-we should probably clean up the training field f-first! (New Quest! Harvest the Free Shuriken Left on the Training Field! Accept | Cancel )', and 'Screw that, teach us that kickass explosion jutsu you used, Namikaze! (New Quest! Sow the Seeds of Mayhem and Disaster! Accept | Cancel )'. Of course, Namikaze, being a complete pushover, just let them drag him off with barely a token protest.

Naoki just rolled his eyes and trudged towards the training fields.

Every minute that Namikaze wasted was a minute Naoki could use to close the gap. It might not be today, it might not even be tomorrow, but one day, for sure, Naoki would make sure Namikaze Minato regretted it.

. . .

"That'll be 200 ryo," growled the grizzled old shopkeeper, who didn't even bother to take the cigarette out of his mouth or to look up from the magazine he was reading.

Naoki bit back several bad words. 200 ryo for a roll of bandages? That was an entire month's allowance. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he could just hide his hands in his pockets until he got back to his own room, but glumly realized that there was no way his mother wouldn't notice the stray cuts when he came down for dinner. He was already going to catch hell for injuring himself; he didn't want to imagine what she'd do if she found out that he skipped proper first aid too.

The only other option was to drop by the hospital and explain to a medic that he had been stupid enough to ricochet one of his own shuriken at himself. Between facing his mother and facing a frazzled, over-worked medic, Naoki was at least reasonably sure his mother wouldn't murder him out of frustration.

Resigned, Naoki opened his wallet and started counting out the amount due. Just as he was about to place the money on the shop counter, however, the bell on the shop's door rang as another customer entered.

The shopkeeper glanced up from his magazine briefly, and the corners of his lips actually twitched upwards for a brief moment before settling back into his dour frown.

"Back again, brat?" he drawled.

"Sorry for disturbing you so late, Nakamura-san," said an all too familiar voice. With a faint feeling of dread, Naoki glanced over his shoulder, and sure enough, there stood Namikaze Minato, inclining his head politely as he ducked inside. When he caught sight of Naoki, his entire countenance brightened, and he added, "Good evening to you too, Shimura-kun."

Naoki simply deadpanned, "Namikaze."

The blonde didn't seem offended by the curt response, however, because he smiled warmly before heading over to the stationary aisle. Then, he systematically gathered every single piece of sealing paper into a single stack, which he brought over to the counter, completely ignoring the fact that Naoki was in the middle of making a purchase. The shopkeeper looked on with an annoyed sort of fondness as he muttered, "We just got more this morning and you're already clearing the shelves. How many seals could you possibly need?"

"Not that many more. I'm almost done grinding level 10 Intermediate Fuinjutsu to unlock paperless seals," Namikaze said sheepishly, as if what he said made any actual sense.

The shopkeeper seemed used to Namikaze's nonsense, however, because he just shrugged and did a quick count of the sheets of sealing paper before saying, "That'll be sixteen thousand and eight hundred ryo."

Naoki boggled as Namikaze forked over the ridiculous amount of money. (Items Lost: 16800 g.) (Items Gained: Blank Sealing Tags [x200].) That was more than three entire D-ranks' worth of pay! Wasn't Namikaze an orphan? Where on earth was he getting that kind of cash?

That question quickly answered itself, however, because Namikaze pulled a sealing scroll out of his pocket and said, "I'd like to sell this too."

'That's not how shops work, idiot,' Naoki wanted to say, but before he could, the old shopkeeper nodded and said, "What've you got this time?"

"Mostly just vendor trash, but I've got some old equipment that I don't need any more as well," Namikaze said, unsealing the scroll.

Immediately, the counter was swallowed up in a mountain of...of what could only be described as garbage. Naoki backpedaled just in time to avoid being swallowed by the cascade. There were bits of scrap metal, various animal parts, pieces of broken wood, scraps of cloth, dried plants, empty bottles, and many, many more assorted pieces of junk that Naoki didn't recognize.

Hidden behind the pile, the shopkeeper's muffled voice said, "I'll give you nine thousand ryo for the lot of it."

Namikaze – who was buried so deeply in the pile that only the tips of his bright blonde hair were still visible – somehow sealed all the junk back into the scroll and handed it to the shopkeeper, who returned the better half of the stack of cash Namikaze just handed him.

(Items Lost: Diseased Rat Liver [x28], Twisted Metal Scrap [x31], Small Animal Bone [x112], Large Animal Bone [x19], Tattered Cloth [x6], Broken Branches [x11], River Reeds [x72], Leaky Bottles [x12], Poor Quality Mesh Shirt, Poor Quality Cotton Pants, Worn Leather Sandals.) (Items Gained: +9000g.)

Somewhere in the exchange, all of the sealing paper had disappeared off the counter as well. Namikaze bowed low towards the shopkeeper in gratitude, then gave Naoki a cheerful wave goodbye before heading back out of the store, leaving no sign that he had ever been there save for the suddenly bare fuinjutsu shelves.

It took Naoki's mind a few tries before it managed to shake off disbelief and resuscitate his common sense.

"Why...why would you buy...?" Naoki trailed off, settling for a frustrated sweep of his arms as he tried and failed to find an adequate word to describe all of the random things that Namikaze had just successfully sold to a store that didn't buy things in the first place.

The shopkeeper settled back in his chair and took a long, slow drag off his cigarette. Then he leaned back in his chair and sighed through a mouthful of smoke, "Long story. One I ain't got the patience to tell, kid." He fixed Naoki with a stern, beady eye and growled, "Now do you want the damn bandages or not?"

Giving it up as a lost cause, Naoki paid for the stupid bandages and went home.

. . .

Of course, on the one day he got home later than usual, his mother was already waiting outside the door for him. Her face fixed in a carefully bland smile, but her lips were white from how hard she was pressing them together. Naoki didn't need his shinobi training to read her expression, because he had seen that look far too many times before.

It meant that she was super angry, but was hiding it because they had guests over.

"I was beginning to worry you had gotten lost," his mother said evenly, but when she grabbed hold of him to lead him around to the back the house, her fingers dug into his arm like a vice. Naoki carefully fought down a wince of pain and calmly observed that, for some unknown reason, he was one she was angry at.

They hurried through the backyard and avoided the main foyer on their way up to Naoki's room. The shoji doors were shut, but Naoki could vaguely make out several silhouettes and hear the low tones of his father speaking with an unfamiliar guest as they passed by. A formal kimono was already laid out on his bed when Naoki got to his room – the nice silk one that his mother only made him wear on really special occasions.

So their guest was someone really important then, and had already arrived while Naoki was wasting time with Namikaze's shenanigans. No wonder his mother was pissed.

Thankfully, she didn't have time to berate him as she swiftly cleaned him up and helped him change into his clothes. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly when she saw the bandages around his hands, but he had bound the injury as neatly as possible, so she let it slide to Naoki's relief.

Giving him a final once-over, his mother decided that he passed muster and herded him to the downstairs sitting room.

"A thousand apologies for the delay," his mother said as she slid open the shoji doors and bowed deeply towards their guest. Stepping to one side, she said, "My son, Naoki, has finally deigned to join us." She didn't even try to hide the disapproval in her voice.

Naoki stepped forward and performed a formal dogeza as he said, "Please forgive my rudeness." When he looked up, however, he nearly choked on his own spit in surprise.

Seated across from his father was none other than the clan head, Danzo-sama himself. Clad all in black, his dark eyes, dark hair, and numerous battle scars gave him an aura of intimidation, even seated as casually as he was. When the man's eyes came to rest on him, Naoki could almost feel a sense of heaviness settle over his shoulders, as if he was pinned under the paw of some great creature who could crush him with a thought.

He gulped and schooled his face into what he hoped was a suitably respectful expression.

There was a tense pause as Danzo brought the teacup to his lips, drank, and set it back down again. All while his gaze remained fixed on Naoki. Then, at last, he said, "You have much reason to be proud."

"Not at all. He is still lacking in many places," his father said modestly, but there was still a sting of truth in those words as his father's eyes briefly flickered over towards him.

"He is uniquely suited to the task at hand," said Danzo.

His father, for the first time in Naoki's memory, seemed to hesitate. Naoki caught the faint whitening of his father's knuckles as his hands tightened into fists, and there was a noticeable strain in his father's voice as he finally bowed his head and said, "...then we are honored to place him in your service, Danzo-sama."

His father then stood, and to Naoki's surprise, walked towards the door. He paused to lay his hand on Naoki's shoulder and squeeze, but whether he meant it as a warning or as reassurance, Naoki couldn't tell.

There was the sound of the shoji doors sliding shut behind him, then, rather suddenly, Naoki found himself alone.

"Come. Sit," Danzo said with simple gesture of his arm that carried all the force of a command.

Naoki stiffly obeyed. His mind was reeling with questions, but he dared not speak them aloud as Danzo went through the quick, efficient motions of pouring him a cup of tea. The room was so quiet that Naoki was sure that everyone present could hear his heartbeat accelerating.

"I hear that your scores at the Academy are exemplary," Danzo began, "and that you excel in every shinobi art."

Naoki inwardly prayed that his voice held steady. He said, "I have good teachers."

"Indeed. But it is not the Academy teachers you speak of." Danzo said.

Naoki froze for a moment, but Danzo held up a hand, saying, "You may speak freely. I do not agree with many of Hiruzen's policies, and the Academy is one we have argued over since the beginning. Tell me, have you learned anything of value there?"

"I...no," Naoki glumly confessed. "It's a waste of time."

"So I thought." Danzo took another drink of tea. "The Academy teaches the Will of Fire, but it does not teach that every flame casts an equal shadow. You cannot have one without the other. Shinobi are the same. We may all be part of the great tree, but while some are made to be the leaves under the sun, others are made to be the roots in the dark."

He fixed Naoki with a piercing look that cut right down to the quick.

"So tell me, what kind of shinobi were you made to be, Shimura Naoki?"

Naoki felt a bead of cold sweat roll down his forehead, thankfully hidden behind his bangs. His heart was a racing drumbeat. It seemed like every hair was standing on end.

Even so, he bowed his head and said, "Whatever kind you need me to be, Danzo-sama." That sounded like the right answer. He hoped.

There was a clatter. Naoki looked up to see that Danzo had thrown a white porcelain mask onto the table. It looked like an ANBU mask, but it was shaped like no particular animal and had no markings whatsoever. Just two dark eye-holes staring back up at him. Naoki didn't dare to reach for it, not when ANBU masks were an honor reserved for only the most loyal, the most skilled, and the most esteemed shinobi in the entire village.

So Danzo pushed it towards him instead.

"It is yours to take," the man said, "If you choose to don it, then from this day forth, you will have two faces. Under the light, you will be Shimura Naoki. But in the darkness, your true face shall be the face of Konoha's ROOT, Hanoe."

Naoki picked up the mask and felt a chill run through him. This. This was his path to becoming a true shinobi, to becoming someone like Danzo-sama. He carefully turned it over in his hands, running his fingers along the subtle curves, and when he looked back up, Danzo was smiling faintly, with a glimmer of acknowledgement in his eye.

"Good," Danzo said curtly, "because I have a mission for you, Hanoe."

Naoki tried not to burst with pride. He shifted, changing from the formal seiza position he had been sitting in to the half-kneeling pose of a shinobi reporting for duty. It had the side benefit of hiding his rather un-shinobi-like grin too.

"Yes, sir!" he said, trying to sound calm and professional despite the thrill of excitement humming in his veins. This was really happening. He was really getting his very first mission from Danzo himself.

"It is an observation mission. We suspect one of your colleagues to be an infiltrator from a hostile party. You are to ascertain the truth without arousing suspicion," Danzo said.

Danzo finished, "Your target is Namikaze Minato."

'What?' Naoki thought.

"What?" Naoki blurted out loud, because his train of thought had just chugged off a mental cliff and sailed right out of his mouth.

Namikaze Minato was suspected of being a spy? Namikaze Minato?! Naoki tried to imagine the happy-go-lucky blonde as a dastardly double agent and drew a complete blank. No matter how talented, Namikaze was still an Academy student, just like him. Granted, Naoki had just been recruited for a secret organization that protected Konoha from the shadows, so that might not be the best comparison, but still. No infiltrator would waste their time letting the girls from his class plaster his face with makeup so that they could get 'practice' before trying it on themselves.

What could possibly have made Danzo think such a ridiculous -

- no, wait. There had to be something more to it. A true shinobi must look underneath the underneath. Which was more reasonable? Namikaze Minato being an infiltrator, or Danzo being mistaken? The answer was that both were unreasonable.

'This is a test,' Naoki realized.

Danzo already knew everything about him. The man could see right through Naoki from the very beginning. Of course, this mission had nothing to do with Namikaze Minato, not really. It was about Naoki, about whether he could follow orders even when they seemed absurd and keep his own personal feelings from affecting his mission performance. It was a baited trap, and if he let his personal distaste for Namikaze bias his report, then Naoki would fail. A true shinobi didn't question their orders. A true shinobi eliminated their own ego.

The dawning realization must have been written all over Naoki's face, because Danzo gave a curt nod and said, "I see you understand quickly."

Naoki steeled himself and declared, "I will not fail, Danzo-sama."

Shimura Naoki would become a true shinobi.

. . .

There was, however, one minor complication that ROOT Operative Hanoe overlooked.

Following Namikaze Minato was the most haphazard, aggravating, and bewildering task Hanoe had ever undertaken.

Left to his own devices, Namikaze bounced all over Konoha like a deranged rabbit, juggling so many favors, errands, and messages that it made Hanoe's head spin. One moment, he was helping a civilian kid find her lost cat, and the next, he was pulling weeds from a lady's flowerbed. He would wander off into the surrounding forests to collect acorns. He would disappear into the sewers to hunt rats. There was no rhyme or reason to his bizarre behavior, no pattern to the people he helped, and no apparent motivation other than an obsession to help as many people as possible in the least amount of time.

Hanoe realized with growing horror that the reason everyone in Konoha was talking about Namikaze wasn't because they were enamored with their newest prodigy. It was because Namikaze was literally everywhere, talking to everyone.

It was a miracle that Konoha's genin teams had any D-rank missions left.

Namikaze managed to throw Hanoe off his trail three days in a row without even realizing that he was being followed. At this rate, Hanoe's forehead would be permanently bruised from where he had repeatedly banged it against a wall.

Was this really how Namikaze spent all of his time? Running petty errands for people who didn't even matter? All while Naoki trained his ass off and still couldn't put a land a single hit in their spars? His father always told him that geniuses were only geniuses because they worked harder than anyone, but if Namikaze had been slacking off this entire time...

Hanoe realized he was audibly grinding his teeth and immediately stopped.

All of these thoughts were ultimately pointless. He had a mission, and he was resolved to see it through no matter what. He would follow Namikaze no matter what this time. He had multiple disguises packed into his backpack. He had smuggled a soldier pill of his father's equipment bag. He even resolved to leave his useless sense of propriety behind, because if Namikaze was gonna brazenly trespass onto private property, then Hanoe had no choice but to brazenly follow.

It took seven hours, seven goddamn hours, before Namikaze called off his daily errand blitz. By then, night had long since fallen and the streets of Konoha were nearly empty. Hanoe was already dead on his feet. He was just waiting for Namikaze to go home and call it a day so that he could do the same.

Instead, to Hanoe's dismay, Namikaze sat down on a park bench under a particularly bright street lamp and took out a stack of sealing paper, a calligraphy brush, and an ink stone.

(Recipe: LVL 3 Exploding Tag. Required: Blank Sealing Tag [410/1], Chakra Ink [388/1], [00:00:30])
(Craft: LVL 3 Exploding Tag [x200] Accept | Cancel )

He started making some kind of sealing tag. From his concealed perch in a nearby tree, Hanoe couldn't make out what the seals were, but he could tell that every single one was the exact same. Namikaze churned them out at a blinding pace. His motions were mindlessly repetitive and eerily perfect, as if an Uchiha had copied the motions and was reenacting them over and over again with perfect fidelity.

Even so, it became completely mind-numbing to watch after the first fifteen minutes. Hanoe nearly fell out of the tree several times as his heavy eyes fought to stay open. Did Namikaze not feel the need to sleep? The Academy had started at seven in the morning, and it was almost midnight by now. Naoki's own bedtime had come and gone three hours ago.

Tag after tag, the stack of unused sealing papers diminished as the pile of completed tags grew. After what felt like an eternity, Namikaze finally put the finishing strokes on the last page.

(Crafting Complete) (Items Lost: Blank Sealing Tags [x200], Chakra Ink [x200].) (Items Gained: LVL 3 Exploding Tags [x200].)
(Your Intermediate Sealing Skill has risen.)
(-Ding-! Intermediate Sealing has increased to LVL 10! You have learned the subskill: Paperless Sealing.)

Hanoe barely made it down the tree in time to follow Namikaze out of the park. He was so tired that he could barely put one foot in front of the other in a straight line. Thank the Sage that Namikaze's hair was so bright; it was easy to follow him through the streets as it got darker the further from the residential district they went.

Wait, something was wrong here. Hanoe's tired brain sparked back to life. Why were they leaving the residential area? The only thing further along in this direction were the training fields...which Namikaze also walked past. Hanoe's feeling of dread only grew as they passed left the last of the normal training fields behind and headed towards the heavily fenced off area where all the specialized training fields were.

'You've got to be kidding me,' Hanoe thought as Namikaze led them to a specific training ground that Hanoe had heard plenty of stories about, but never, ever wanted to enter.

Training Ground 44. Also known as the Forest of Death.

Namikaze Minato was climbing the fence.

'Yeah, there's no way I'm following him in there,' Hanoe thought to himself, 'Just, nope. Nope, nope, so much nope.'

If Namikaze wanted to get himself killed, that was his prerogative.

ROOT Operative Hanoe, or rather, Shimura Naoki, was going to go home and get some goddamn sleep.

. . .

"Wow, Naoki, you look like crap," Akimichi said bluntly as Naoki trudged into the classroom.

Naoki made a noncommittal grunt and flopped down in his seat, resting his head against the nice, cool surface of the desk.

He heard the scrape of a chair, then a voice that would probably haunt his nightmares said, "Good morning, Shimura-kun."

It was Namikaze fucking Minato, who somehow looked as energetic as always, his halo of bright blonde hair shining in the morning light like a miniature sun. There wasn't a single scratch anywhere to be found. No bags under his eyes either.

How. What. Why. Who. How?

Naoki managed to stay awake during all his classes through sheer fury. If looks could kill, Namikaze would have twin holes drilled through the back of his skull from the force of Naoki's glare.

His mind was made up. He would complete Danzo-sama's mission even if it killed him. The moment class ended, Naoki popped a soldier pill into his mouth and chewed through the foul, bitter taste without a single flinch. There would be hell to pay when it wore off, but if the pill lived up to its advertised effect of three days and three nights without needing rest, then he should be able to sleep it off over the weekend.

Naoki was already wise to all of Namikaze's shenanigans. He followed the blonde through the women's bathhouse without blushing. He climbed the same unguarded section of wall to get into the Senju compound when Namikaze delivered a letter to Mito-sama. He raced ahead to the manhole that he knew Namikaze would reappear from when the blonde decided to take another jaunt through the underground sewers.

He waited silently in the tree as Namikaze made another batch of sealing tags.

Then, at the stroke of midnight, he followed Namikaze to Training Ground 44.

There had to be some kind of trick to it, how Namikaze was getting in and out unscathed, and Naoki was determined to find out what it was. Or rather, Hanoe had orders to find out, no matter how terrifying the stories about this place might be.

Naoki slipped the blank white mask out of his Academy backpack and pulled it down over his face. He was no longer Shimura Naoki, Academy student. He was Root Operative Hanoe, and he knew no fear.

The moment Namikaze over the fence, Hanoe followed right after in a few heartbeats, dropping down on the other side with only a muffled 'thump' in the grass to cushion his landing.

(Warning: You do not meet the recommended level for this zone!)

He looked up to see Namikaze disappearing into the dark forest. Time to put his stealth and tracking training to good use. If Namikaze could make it through this place unscathed, then so could he. If he just stayed aware and alert, then he should be able to outrun anything that came after him even if he couldn't beat it in a straight fight.

That confidence lasted until he heard the sounds of fighting ahead.

His heart missed a beat. Surely, not even Namikaze was that crazy, right?

Careful not to make any sound that might give him away, Hanoe took to the canopy, hopping from branch to branch to reach the sounds of conflict without being seen.

Oh Sage, it turned out Namikaze really was that crazy. The air trembled as the roar of a massive tiger filled the forest, and its paw lashed out in a strike that would probably smash a human into unrecognizable pulp. The small blonde dodged the blow by a hairsbreadth and hopped across a small river, flinging a shuriken at the tiger as he fled. It missed by a scratch, leaving a small red line across the tiger's flank before embedding itself into a tree.

The tiger made a few ineffectual swipes at the blonde before realizing that it couldn't reach the other bank. It snarled as the shuriken stung at its pelt before its mighty muscles bunched up and it cleared the water in a single bound.

Namikaze danced back across the river to the other side. Then he retrieved his shuriken and flung it back, missing again with a scratch.

Hanoe watched slack-jawed as Namikaze kited the tiger back and forth across the river, always a few seconds away from becoming mincemeat, but also always just a split second faster to get across the water than the apex predator. Namikaze was training. Throwing projectiles at a moving target (Your Shuriken skill has risen.), instantaneous water walking (Your Chakra Control skill has risen.), and dodging in poor visibility (Your Evade skill has risen.) – things that sane people trained using a target, a pond, and a blindfold respectively. Not a tiger, a running river, and a forest at the dead of night, because no one was that suicidal.

And yet, it was working. The scratches were slowly building up and getting deeper. The tiger was still nowhere near dead, but it was visibly slowing down as the cuts started to cause it pain.

Hanoe was so engrossed in watching the fight below him, however, that he didn't hear the sibilant hiss behind him until it was already too late.

When he turned, the open maw of the snake was already surging towards him, wide enough to swallow him whole. He didn't have time for anything except a strangled scream.

(You have used the skill: Body Flicker.) Death, however, was intercepted by a yellow flash. (Your Body Flicker skill has risen.)

Something yanked hard on Hanoe's arm, nearly ripping it out of its socket, and the forest suddenly disappeared into a flash of blinding light as the roar of an explosion drowned out all other sound and left his ears ringing. (Items Lost: LVL 3 Exploding Tag!) The mask protected him from the worst of the blast, but even through his sleeves, he could feel how the skin on his arms had been scalded by the heat.

(-Ding- You have slain: Hanging Willow Python! EXP gained: +5.89%)

His back slammed into the ground. On instinct alone, he rolled with his momentum, curling up to protect his head as he bounced violently through the undergrowth.

There was a 'crunch' of someone landing heavily next to him, and when Hanoe finally blinked away the dancing spots in his vision, he saw Namikaze Minato gazing down at him with blonde hair streaked in both soot and twigs. It was the first time he had seen the blonde look anything less than pristine.

"Shimura," Namikaze said, and this time there was no polite honorific at the end, only a hard, flat edge to Namikaze's voice that left no room for argument, "You pulled aggro, and everything in here will one-shot you. The tower at the center is a safe zone. You need to run."

'Run.' Like finding a long-lost puzzle piece, an old memory finally wiggled loose in Naoki's brain.

There had been a dark room, once, where he had fought a clone of himself and lost. The memory had been murky due to exhaustion, but Naoki remembered now. Namikaze had come through the door, another clone had formed, and then suddenly, a copy of Namikaze Minato had charged towards him with murder in its eyes.

Death had been intercepted by a yellow flash back then too. It had been the first time that Naoki had been forced to admit a truth that he adamantly tried to ignore: as a shinobi, Namikaze Minato was out of his league.

So Naoki ran.

He had lost his mask somewhere in the fall. The sharp edges of branches and leaves tore at his face as he tore through them. He heard howls, hisses, and clicks in the darkness, glimpsed flashing teeth and gleaming out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't stop running to see what kind of beasts they belonged to. The moon was nothing more than a thin sliver in the sky, but it was enough, just barely, to see the black silhouette of the tower against the night sky. Almost there. Almost safe.

Thank the Sage for that soldier pill. He pushed himself past his top speed, past the limits of what his usual chakra pool would allow, and the soldier pill in his bloodstream burned with the extra chakra he needed to keep running. He put on a burst of speed the moment the base of the tower was in sight and didn't stop until he felt himself crash into the hard, concrete wall.

Finally, he dared to look back.

The moonlight glinted off dozens of beastly eyes that watched him hungrily, but Namikaze had been telling the truth, and nothing dangerous approached the tower. Naoki sank down against the wall in relief, gasping for breath.

Then he waited, for god only knew how long, until the sharp cry of birds suddenly taking flight from a nearby tree and a whistle of rushing wind heralded Namikaze's arrival.

He was covered from head to toe in grime this time, and in the dim light, it was hard to tell how much was dirt and how much was blood. The grime glistened darkly, though, Naoki had a sinking feeling that most of it was blood. Even Namikaze's bright blonde hair had lost its usual brilliance.

But his eyes were hard and bright, like steel.

Namikaze held out something smooth and white towards him.

It was his porcelain ROOT mask, with a crack running straight through the left eye. Naoki swallowed, and took it. There was no point in denying the obvious.

Namikaze asked quietly, "Danzo?"

It was more of a statement than a question, so Naoki didn't bother to answer. The two of them lapsed into an uneasy silence before Namikaze shifted and sat down next to Naoki, letting out a small sigh.

"I didn't think he'd single you out this early," Namikaze said with a wry smile, "though in hindsight, that's probably my fault. He probably thought I'd let my guard down around a classmate. So, uh, sorry about that."

Oh. Well, that explained a lot. Naoki suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

'Suspected of being an infiltrator', those were the words Danzo had used. The mission had been a test after all. Just not a test for Naoki. It had been a test for Namikaze Minato all along, and Naoki had only been the bait in the trap. Danzo hadn't acknowledged him at all. Hadn't valued him for anything except his convenience in a greater plan.

Underneath the underneath, Shimura Naoki had been nothing more than a tool after all. Wasn't that what true shinobi were meant to be? He got what he wanted, but it didn't make him feel happy at all. Instead, his throat ached, his eyes burned, and he desperately wanted to punch someone in the face.

Oh hell no, if he cried in front of Namikaze Minato of all people, he would spontaneously combust from embarrassment.

Namikaze Minato, who would have been the dumbest infiltrator in the world, politely stared up at the sky and pretended not to notice as Naoki smeared his dirty sleeve across his face to hide the sniffle.

"Who the hell are you anyway?" Naoki growled, latching onto his annoyance to distract himself. If there was one thing Namikaze was good for, it was being a constant source of frustration.

"A great Hokage, someday," Namikaze answered blithely (Title Selected: Walking the Path of Fire and Shadow, +5% EXP gain), as if they were still in an Academy classroom and going around sharing what their dreams for the future were. "even if it's a really long quest chain, and grinding charisma is basically all RNG."

Then he stood, dusting himself off, and said, "Which is why I need the levels more than I need the faction points."

"Why is it that nothing you say ever makes any sense," Naoki groaned, but he got to his feet as well.

Namikaze just smiled and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. Naoki recognized it immediately as the same kind of tag that Namikaze had been making earlier.

"You might want to cover your ears," Namikaze said, and that was Naoki's only warning before Namikaze lit the tag, attached it to a kunai, and tossed it as hard as he could at a large boulder in the distance.

It detonated with an earthshaking 'boom'. (Items Lost: LVL 3 Exploding Tag!)

'I guess that explains how he killed the snake,' Naoki thought.

The first explosion, however, seemed to set off tags that had been hidden in the surroundings, and the first blast was followed by four or five more simultaneously, which in turn triggered even more explosions, until Naoki was forced to brace himself against the tower wall as the entire forest was blown sky high. It was too bright to open his eyes and too loud to hear anything beyond the deafening roar of fiery destruction. The ground shook so violently that it knocked him to his knees.

(-Ding- You have slain: Brush Tiger [x11], Iron Beak Falcon [x15], Giant Man-Eating Centipede [x16], Poisonous Centipede [x84], Southern Praying Mantis [x10], Yellow Tail Wasps [x31], Vine Snake [x59], Hanging Willow Python [x17], Giant Blood Leech [x23], Blood Leech [x115], Drop Bear (x19), Freshwater Piranha [x21], Ancient Fish of the Depths! EXP Gained: +1529.98%!)

(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 16! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 17! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 18! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 19! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 20! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 21! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 22! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 23! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 24! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 25! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 26! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 27! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 28! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 29! +5 Attribute Points!)
(-Ding- Level up! You are now level 30! +5 Attribute Points!)
(Achievement Unlocked: Up to Eleven – Defeat 10 enemies in a single turn.)
(Achievement Unlocked: One Man Army – Defeat 100 enemies in a single turn.)
(Achievement Unlocked: Weak but Skilled – Defeat an enemy more than 10 levels higher than you.)

"What. The Fuck. Was that?" Naoki gasped when the explosions finally died down.

The forest was gone. There was nothing but broken husks of trees and charred earth in every direction he looked. The scorch marks ended distressingly close to the tower itself – what would have happened to them if Namikaze misjudged the size of the explosions?

"Level three exploding tags," Namikaze answered mildly, "They do three hundred points of AOE damage, and setting one off with another bypasses the item cooldown." He glanced off into the distance and broke into a smile, saying, "Looks like the ANBU are coming."

Naoki opened his mouth, then closed it without saying anything. There were so many questions that he didn't even know where to start, but the most pressing was probably: exactly how much trouble they were in for completely obliterating a training ground that had existed since the founding of Konoha? And while Danzo's mission might have been bogus from the start, how badly was Naoki going to be punished for failing it in such a spectacular fashion?

Namikaze seemed to sense his depressed mood, and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Don't worry," the sunshine blonde said, "You're not in as much trouble as you think. Though, I should probably apologize in advance, because this might hurt a little."

"Wha-?" Naoki began in alarm, but before he could even finish the first word, Namikaze blurred, too fast for the eye to see, and all Naoki felt was a sharp blow to gut that drove all of the air out of his lungs in a single whoosh. (You have used the skill: Stunning Strike.) He collapsed to his knees, his vision already blacking out from the edges. (Your Stunning Strike skill has risen.)

Naoki gasped like a dying fish, "Nami- !"

. . .

"—kaze!" Naoki woke with a shout out as he bolted upright in a hospitable bed.

"Well, that's certainly an understandable sentiment," said a kindly voice next to his bedside, and when Naoki turned to look, he got yet another surprise in what felt like an endless chain of bewildering events that was somehow always Namikaze's fault.

"S-Sandaime-sama," Naoki stuttered, and did his best to bow his head respectfully despite being in a hospital bed.

The man chuckled, however, and said, "There's no need for any of that."

The hospital room was otherwise empty, Naoki realized, despite the fact that there were three other beds in the low-priority care room. He could see two ANBU through the viewing window on the door who were probably posted to guard the Hokage as a matter of standard protocol.

The Hokage sighed and said, "I suppose it's too much to expect you to relax when you hardly know what's going on. You have questions, I'm sure. Since I fear I have several things I must ask of you as well, it seems only fair to allow you the courtesy of asking first."

"Am I in trouble?" was the first thing he asked, obviously.

At this, the Hokage chuckled. "For what happened to Training Ground 44? Haha, no. It is not the first time an aspiring Konoha ninja has blown up a training field, and it certainly won't be the last…even if the scale is a bit larger than usual this time."

"What about Namikaze?" Naoki asked.

"Out of town to visit distant relatives," the Sandaime said wryly, "He submitted the leave of absence forms a week ago."

"What? But he was the one who - "

"Officially, at least," the Sandaime interrupted, and then paused to give Naoki a considering look.

He was being given a choice, Naoki realized with a start.

Steeling himself, Naoki asked, "...where is he, really?"

"The unofficial report indicates that he is fleeing towards Kiri, to betray whatever intel he gathered to the village that sent him," Sandaime said tiredly, "From the tracking squad's latest communications, that does indeed seem to be the direction he is headed."

Naoki leaned back against his pillows, stunned. Was Namikaze Minato was actually an infiltrator all along? But that didn't make any sense, why would -

"But of course, I suspect this is simply a ploy to get around me and claim yet another bright young talent for ROOT, as Danzo has been attempting to do so for years," Sandaime continued, sending Naoki's thoughts spinning in the opposite direction. "There are also certain political factions that are unhappy with the prospect of a civilian orphan outperforming the rest of his generation. If Namikaze-kun hadn't made himself so highly visible, I believe he would simply have been quietly disappeared for one reason or another."

That sent Naoki's head spinning in the two entirely new directions. Did the Sandaime know about his mission from Danzo? Did the Sandaime actually know everything? Was this another test? Was he already failing it? Did Namikaze actually go around Konoha doing all those stupid errands to keep himself from being disappeared? What did that even mean? There were so many layers underneath the underneath that Naoki could feel his brain melting into sludge just trying to process it all.

So instead, Naoki settled for, "Why are you telling me all this? It's not like Namikaze and I are friends."

"No, but you are rivals, and sometimes, a good rival is just as important as a good friend," the Sandaime said, smiling, "Danzo is many things, but he's always had a good eye for talent. Just don't walk so far into the shadows that you forget what's casting them in the first place, Naoki-kun. A true shinobi must be both the fire and the shadow – the ideal Hokage."

The current Hokage reached out and tapped Naoki right over his heart knowingly, and Naoki felt a tremble spread through all of his bones at the acknowledgement. He wanted to speak, but there was a lump in his throat that made it hard to get the words out. In the end, he just settled for a grateful nod as the Sandaime left him alone with his thoughts.

Shimura Naoki had a lot to think about.

. . .

"Are you sure telling him so much was wise, Sandaime-sama?" asked one of the Anbu.

The Hokage smiled around his pipe as he lit it, puffing on it once before answering, "Danzo's gotten too comfortable with the blind faith his subordinates offer. A little bit of dissent will be a good reminder for him. The village exists to protect what we love, after all. Not to mold us into what we hate."

. . .

Three days later, the markets of Uzushio were in an uproar.

"Gotta be better than that!" the red-haired girl crowed in triumph as she bounced from ledge to ledge, propelling herself straight up the side of the building until she was perched at the very top.

Her caretaker wheezed and gasped from the street below, calling out feebly, "Please, Kushina-hime! Come down! You're going to hurt yourself!"

She just grinned from ear to ear and blew a raspberry before bolting across the roof and taking a running leap onto the adjacent building, all to the music of her caretaker's cry of dismay. Hah! That'll teach them to lock her up in a room to practice her calligraphy for so many days in a row. And besides, her handwriting was fine! Who cared if the third stroke of a character was half a millimeter thicker than the second?

"Hime!" Another voice cried out, and Kushina looked across the rooftops to see several of her clan ninja speeding towards her as well. Crap. Rooftops were a no-go then.

She took another running leap off the roof, her fingers latching onto a gutter on the opposite building as she kicked off it and caught a clothesline on her way down. Latching onto a particularly sturdy looking bedsheet, she used it to zip down the line onto an open patio, and jumped from there onto the cloth canopy of a stall below that slid her neatly onto the street again.

"Catch me if you can!" Kushina yelled over her shoulder as she sprinted around a corner.

Only to crash headfirst into someone. Someone small, because she bowled them right over, and they both went crashing down in a confused tangle of limbs. When the world finally righted itself, Kushina found herself straddling a rather dusty-looking blond who was around her age.

Instead of seeming stunned or outraged at being summarily run over, however, his face broke out into the biggest, dopiest smile she had ever seen.

"Kushina," he wheezed, gazing up at her with eyes that were so brilliantly blue they couldn't possibly be real, "I came to save you."

. . .

Authors Note:

This chapter killed me. I am dead. I also dragged this chapter into death with me, because I'm petty like that.

Luckily, I have a fantastic, awesome, incredible, miracle-working beta-reader that managed to resurrect both of us. Give up a round of applause for MoonlitMelody, because without them, this chapter would still be buried six feet under beneath a pile of horrendous typos and plot holes. Likewise, special thanks to Lupegarou4488 for encouragement, fantastic world-building advice, and a much needed second opinion.

That being said, I am happy to say that the derailing has officially begun. Attention all passengers, this trainwreck is now departing from Canon Station. We may revisit it later, but it will most likely be destroyed beyond all recognition by the time we return.

Hopefully, the chapter length will soon stabilize, because if they keep getting 4000 words longer every time, then this story really WILL kill me.