Norse by Norse West

Naruto shivered as the bitingly cold wind ran over his exposed skin. He was still in the same clothes he had worn when he had left Konoha, and clothes designed to keep him cool in those temperate climes were patently unsuitable for a thin six year old on the outskirts of Snow country.

Surrendering to the urge, he reached across and began to free the jacket from the stiff corpse on the other side of the cage. His cellmate had mouthed off one too many times and was beaten for his trouble. The wounds had eventually taken their toll a few hours ago, and Naruto had since battled with the urge to take what the dead man clearly no longer needed. His captors had never even noticed the death.

The decision to leave Konoha had been his own and, even now he couldn't truly regret it. Life in the hidden village had been unbearable - a thousand small miseries heaped on him out of the sight of the law, or anyone who would care. Someone would notice if they did too much, so they kept it small - but a small but constant force can do every bit as much damage as a larger sudden one.

The slavers, for all their atrocities, only really saw him as cargo. It was only someone like Naruto, used to a very specific kind of abuse, who could take comfort in the fact that the men who had kidnapped him - to sell to the highest bidder on the black market of Glacier country - held no specific malice towards him.

He wrapped the dead mans coat around him and hunkered down, trying to expose as little of himself as possible to the biting wind. The cage-cart he was in was currently winding down a rough trail. The man driving it was hopelessly lost, having gotten separated from the rest of the slavers caravan during a snowstorm the day before. Naruto spent his time wondering whether he should hope the man found his way, so they would survive, or pray they both died.

The slavers had been very talkative during the first days - he knew typically the types of slavery available to be sold into. He also knew that as a child, his options were more limited than most. Either he would be sent into a life of hard labour, often to someone hoping to make a gladiator of him when he became old enough, or he would be sold as a sextoy to some rich pervert with a fetish for young boys.

The first option was fairly certain death. Even if he survived the labour, no one really survived as a gladiator. People watched gladiators to see people die, and the fights were rigged to put on the best show. Sooner or later your card would come up - later if you were a good enough showman, but still too soon.

The second option...didn't bear thinking about. That at least had never been a danger in Konoha - people in a ninja village tended to stay pretty close to the letter of the law if they could get away with it.

The morbid thoughts chased away the worst of the chill, but failed to touch the deeper cold now sinking into his bones. He considered moving, but lacked the energy to do so. As darkness rose up around him, he felt his body slowly shutting down, going numb. He smiled faintly, the pain was going away...

NO! He was Uzumaki Naruto, dammit! He was the one who had once sworn to become the Hokage. He still intended to keep that promise. Even when he had left Konoha, he had only considered it a temporary event. He had always planned to return.

So here, now, he had no excuse for simply giving up. The weather might have been sapping his strength, but that was no excuse to let it sap his will.

Well no more! There was a fire inside him now, or was it ice? It warmed his body in a blaze of adrenalin, forcing his muscles to loosen and flex, heating him from his core. But the feel in his bones was still ice. It had become a part of him, the core of him as he was rebuilt in this spiritual rebirth. It was understandable he would have felt the heat of the fire first. Always before in this situation he would have been overcome with anger, screaming his fury to an uncaring world. Now the same anger ran though him, burning cold and dripping with acid hate.

He hated the slavers. They had captured him, beat him, and starved him. That there was no malice in it made it worse. Even in Konoha, they had been wary. They might have feared him, but they had the tact to treat him as something to be feared. A monster. The slavers saw him as a thing. A commodity. A possession.

He was nobody's possession.

Now it was just left to him to show that to the rest of them...

A shout of glee from the front of the cart brought him back to reality, and he turned to see what had happened. The idiot driving the cart was laughing as he pulled on the reins. He had found tracks of other carts - they were catching up to the caravan.

Naruto's lip curled in a savage grin that was completely out of place on a child his age, and wrapped his stolen jacket closer around his young body, curling up again on the floor of the cage. Soon, soon he would need all his strength...

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Not too far away from the caravan, was a small settlement. Not even large enough to call a village, it was merely a place where the fur trappers that worked in the area could use to store supplies and sleep without being disturbed by wild animals.

During the height of the hunting season, nearly a hundred trappers - often along with wives or family - would be present in the settlement.

Currently, it was the height of the hunting season.

Following a snowstorm, and in the middle of the night, none of them were prepared to fight the Slavers when they came.

Further away from the settlement stood three huts, only just close enough to be seen. Their owners had chosen the location for its remoteness, and hadn't been pleased when they found out about the trappers claim to the land. The trappers, for their part had been more than happy not to bother the three hermits who so obviously didn't want to be bothered. As long as they weren't after fur, it wasn't any of their business anyway, and so they ignored it.

This suited both parties fine.

So when screams rent the air, powerful enough to overcome the muffling effect of the snow-covered landscape, the doors to three huts opened almost in unison, and three men stepped out, peering across the white plain to see what had gone wrong.

A moment passed, then two of the men, both large, blond men turned to the last, a lean, whipcord figure with blazingly red hair. His helmet sported a single lens dropping down over his left eye, and it was this that his companions watched. The red-head focused his gaze on the far-off settlement, lights blinking behind that lens for a moment, and spoke.

"Invaders. The ones who fight are slaughtered; the ones who surrender are put in chains." His fists clenched savagely for a second, nails almost drawing blood, then he was gone, the only clue to his passage being the line of footprints and the snow thrown up in his wake.

The remaining two were in motion within seconds of his departure. One, a muscular man with a large moustache, made prominent by his lack of beard, growled with rage as he moved.

"Slavers!" His left arm groped at his side, gripping hold of a short cylinder of metal. His right arm, a massive construction of jointed metal, shot out from his shoulder, extending back into his hut and withdrawing with a terrifyingly horned helmet that he rammed on his head.

His companion, a stout man with both beard and moustache, dashed into his own hut, returning likewise garbed in a helmet, although his was adorned by a pair of wings. Also with him was a round shield cast in metal and painted with stripes of blue. Though silent, he was no less active than his friend, raising fingers to his mouth and letting off a piercing whistle, before biting down hard on his fingers and scattering his blood on the ground.

Smoke obscured the air for a moment, and when it cleared a massive reptilian form was present. Jets of smoke issued from its nostrils and lips, and snow hissed to steam where it met his feet.

"Scorch, we need to get to the settlement fast. Erik's already there. It's Slavers, Scorch."

The dragon scanned the horizon briefly, draconian eyes seeing more clearly than even the visor used by their friend. He spoke.

"Hold on." The dragon lifted into the air with one flap of its mighty wings. The watching warriors barely had time to blink before they too were airborne, clutched in the rear talons of the reptile, not actually touching the heated skin of the dragon.

The dragon winged its way across the plain, skirting the outskirts of the forest that surrounded it. Below them, a shadow flitted from tree to tree, loping at a pace no normal human could sustain. The Shieldbearer, hanging from his draconian perch, let loose another piercing whistle, and the shadow broke forth into the plain proper, looking up at the sky to see them.

Away from the trees, the shadow's form was revealed. Standing nearly seven feet tall, it walked upright, but had the face structure and fur of a wolf, along with claws and ears to match. A tangled mane of blond hair hung around his shoulders and his eyes - while intelligent - belied a ferocity few humans could match.

Relying on the Wolf-man's keen hearing, the flying trio conveyed the situation to him. He signalled back in comprehension, and followed the dragon's flight path along the ground.

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Naruto was confused. The cart had met up with the rest of the caravan only hours ago, only to find it was nearly as lost as they were. One of the sentries had reported a settlement nearby, one without any active guards. It wasn't too surprising that such a remote place would go without guards, but it was going to be their downfall. Many of the captured slaves had suffered the same fate as his cellmate. The Slavers were going to take this opportunity to replenish their cargo and get directions at the same time.

It was a slaughter. Slavers had poured out from the tree line as dawn broke and raced into the camp, killing anything that put up a resistance. Naruto had been able to nothing to help them, and so was hoarding his strength for when he had a chance to use it. The battle was already running down, with everyone opposing either dead or in chains.

Suddenly there was a cut-off scream, and a sound like a wet sack tearing. Heads whipped round to find the source of the sound, but found only a corpse. One of their own, the former Slaver was nearly torn in two at the waist, the only clue to his assailant being a row of melting footprints in the snow. Following the footprints led to a flurry of snow, kicked up by a fast brake. As the snow cleared, the attacker came into view.

Standing six feet tall, and wearing cured hides and odd boots, the fearsome figure was breathing heavily. His hands held no weapon, but the bright blood glinting on the points of his horned helmet left no uncertainty about his favoured weapon. The Slavers were stunned into silence as the red droplets made their way down polished metal and mixed with similarly coloured hair. His breath came in little puffs of mist, as he straightened up, glaring around him in fury. He tensed, and before the Slavers could move, he was gone again.

Moments later, three Slavers went flying in different directions, struck at high speeds by a fist moving too fast to see. This was enough to shock the rest of their troupe into action, moving to fight an enemy they couldn't see. More of the men went flying, unconscious or dead.

The Slavers were still trying to rally to this foe, when two of their number suddenly burst into flame, in response to the fireball being shot from the sky. Turning to meet this new threat, they quailed at the sight of the draconian figure and his two passengers. Even as they watched, the stout man was released, lifting his shield above his head and gliding with it, until he was in position, then dropping like a stone boots first and crushing the head of the Slaver who broke his fall.

The beardless passenger fell too, though from a lower height. Moments before hitting the ground, his robotic right arm shot out, extending further than should be possible to grip onto an outlying strut of one of the buildings. Swinging to break his fall, he turned a neat flip in mid air as he let go, and landed heavily in the snow, instantly setting his feet for a fight. Slavers rushed him, but he met the first with a metal palm to the face while he was still out of range for attack. Squeezing with more than human strength, the skull shattered like a ripe fruit, and he flicked the body away contemptuously.

Seeing the rest of the Slavers scared to come close, he gripped the cylinder in his left hand tightly and focused his will upon it. With an electric snap-hiss, a blade of burning blue-white energy ignited before it, filling the air with the scent of ozone. Grinning fiercely, he charged the Slavers.

Some of the Slavers retreated towards the outskirts of the camp, trying to escape the carnage. Before they could leave, a clawed, furred hand reached out from the shadows and snapped their necks cleanly. The Wolf-man turned and entered the camp proper, quickly becoming a bloody whirlwind of tooth and claw as he carved a crimson path though the enemy. Some enemies got close enough to strike him, with blade or staff, only to fall back in horrified shock as he shrugged off the hits, healing the wounds instantly and turning to his attackers to claw out their throats.

Soon, the camp was in chaos, as a small army of Slavers fell one by one at the hands of their attackers. Some gathered together, and tried to send spears and arrows into their opponents, but failed as the stout man stepped forward and brushed off all the attacks with contemptuous ease, his shield not even scratched by it.

Soon the sounds of battle began to die out, as more and more of the Slaver laid dead or bleeding in the snow. Finally, the dragon perched on a rooftop, and the wolf-man crouched on a nearby beam.

The three men gathered together to face the last of the slavers, advancing on him menacingly. This slaver had been at the rear of the caravan, and had entered the settlement last. He had avoided the massacre more by luck than anything else, and now in the face of his doom he retreated.

Pulling his only weapon, a heavy double-bladed straight knife, he backed away from the advancing warriors, until his back met the bars of the cage-cart he had driven. The blood spattered murderers before him never slowed down, and it was all he could do to lift his blade to protect his body and head, and stammer out a plea for his life.

He was shocked to see the men stop, grinning in some dark amusement at his plight, and dared to hope that he might survive. Then he noticed the men weren't smiling at him, but were rather looking behind him. He had just time to register this when small hands reached through the bars and grabbed his wrist, before pulling back with all the childlike strength they could muster.

Naruto grinned savagely towards his saviours, as he leant back with his full weight, which was just enough to pull his captors arm back, letting the razor sharp edge of his own weapon pass through his throat. As the Slaver collapsed, gurgling on his own blood, Naruto too fell backwards as the last remnants of his strength ran out.

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The three warriors stared somewhat bemusedly at the unconscious boy and the Slaver corpse. It had been a beautifully executed kill - quick and brutal - made all the more impressive by the fact it was clearly done with the boy's last reserves of energy.

The redhead snorted and stepped forward, lifting a key chain from the corpse and using it on the cage, before lifting the boy out gently and turning to his friends.

"Clean up duty now. Free the slaves. Kill any surviving Slavers." He turned to call up to the dragon above him. "Scorch, take the boy, he needs warming up. Actually if you could start a big fire that would be great."

The wolf-man jumped down and spoke, "I'm gonna head off now. These people are still confused, they won't remember me in the morning, at least not enough to identify me to others, and that suits me fine. You know how to reach me if you need me." He turned and loped off into the distance.

A fireball from the dragon lit an abandoned cart to start a large fire, and he took Naruto to warm him with his draconian body heat. The others likewise went about their jobs.

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Naruto came to slowly, gradually shaking off the last of the darkness as he rose to consciousness. He became aware of people talking around him.

"...wake. I think he's awake. Can you hear me boy?" Naruto groaned a reply and forced open his eyes - an effort he felt deserved an award considering how he felt right then.

Concentration gave resolution to the blurred shapes around him, and he recognised them as his saviours of earlier. He gave a nod in response to the question, although he hadn't a clue who had asked.

The red-haired man smiled, "Good, you had us worried there for a while. Not too much though, anyone who can keep his wits about him to take out a Slaver the way you did isn't going to die from something so prosaic as frostbite."

Naruto furrowed his brow, as the memories from before returned to him. He remembered the hate, the fury, and the savage beauty in his first kill. He smiled up at the men. Belatedly, he remembered to introduce himself.

"I'm Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto, from Konoha in the Fire country. I ran away from home, the Slavers caught me. They were going to sell us in Glacier country. The rest..."

The man frowned, caught up in some memory, "Those who survived are fine. The ones that came with you, and those who used to live at the trapper camp. They salvaged what they could of the carts and abandoned the settlement. They're heading to the capital, and the embassies can sort out their problems later. I doubt anyone will come back to live at the camp. The dead..." he shrugged, "...we burnt the bodies. That's all we could do for them"

Naruto nodded, it had been more or less what he expected. Living in a ninja village, even civilians became somewhat inured to death. He spoke again.

"And me?"

"You boy, you were in bad shape. Doesn't look like you were eating well before - too skinny - and after... Your body was exhausted; you gave everything and then some. You just needed rest, so we kept you here in the warm. You've been sleeping for near a week now."

Naruto nodded again, turning his gaze to the other two occupants of the hut. They had looked up when he awoke, but otherwise had not acknowledged him. Currently, they were involved in some elaborate game involving both cards and dice.

He was about to speak again when the Door slammed open and a brown furred figure stepped in, closing the portal behind him.

"He's awake? Good, but he's not going anywhere soon. The snow's started up again and it's a big one. No one's going anywhere 'til it stops, and that won't be for a while...maybe weeks, or even months."

Naruto shut his mouth, and analysed the new figure carefully, taking in the fur and claws, and noting the glint of light of his teeth. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the redhead taking stock of his reaction closely. He though briefly, then reworded the question he wanted to ask.

"Who are you people?"

The redhead looked slightly taken aback, and the other two looked up from their game, before returning to it without comment. The newcomer snorted with laughter.

"He hasn't even gotten to that yet?"

"Shut up, I was getting to it," The redhead was unembarrassed by his lapse. "This heap of fur we call Fang, and the two so immersed in that stupid game of theirs are Olaf and Baleog. Our last companion, not actually present at this instant, but who you may remember from the battle, is named Scorch. I go by Erik"

Naruto nodded again, committing the odd names to memory, but couldn't help but comment.

"You're not from around here are you?"

"You're not wrong," Erik laughed. "It's a long story, a true saga that any bard would be proud of, but the short of it is...we're lost."

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6 years later

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Naruto inked the final rune in his blood, and then stood up. He had just finished painting a runic array on the floor, over an area large enough to sit a good sized dragon, which was just what he hoped to do.

Over the last six years, he had ended up staying with his saviours, and learning from them. One of the things he had learnt was their past. Torn from their homes, from their worlds by a madman intent on making them into museum pieces, it more than explained their hatred of Slavers, and those who would imprison others with no reason.

They had fought their way free of that madman, although all suffered changes in the process. Flung from world to world, they had eventually ended up here, and despairing of a means to get home, they had found a place that seemed familiar and built themselves a new home.

Oh, they had searched at first. They had found a learned man from a nearby ninja village, the kind of person who delights in solving puzzles, and had set their situation to him as a hypothetical scenario. He had disappeared for days, muttering about 'reverse summoning', and 'world gates' and had returned with a solution.

They had rejoiced at first, but eventually realised the limitations of his solution. No human, even with the help of a dragon and a werewolf, could hope to supply the power necessary to carry it out, and so they had resigned themselves to living here.

Scorch had been the first problem. Unlike his homeworld, or any of the worlds they had visited up to this point, this one was different. They didn't know how or why, but this world was simply incapable of hosting the presence of a dragon for any length of time. The young dragon had faded out of existence in the third month of their stay, and would have remained so were it not for Fang.

As a werewolf, he was closer linked to the spirit world that any human could be, and it was to he spirit world where Scorch had been drawn. The Material plane on this world couldn't support such spiritual beings without a massive expenditure of energy. When that energy ran out, they faded back to the spirit world. They took this back to their 'idea man', and he introduced them to the concept of a summoning contract, which let them supply the energy needed to bring him to this plane.

Meanwhile, Scorch was training. He had discovered on his own that powerful spirits could supply the energy for the transition on their own, but he quickly realised that although this was true, it would take far more than he had to stay in the material plane indefinitely, like some demons could do.

They had been wary of the same thing happening to Fang, but it seemed he was human enough to survive here, if only just.

The summoning technique introduced them to the concept of chakra, and though it seemed more something a Soothsayer or Wise man would attempt, the three Vikings and Fang trained themselves in its use.

It was a good thing they did too, because less than a year after their arrival, all their technology failed. This was the second problem. The technology ran on power cells that were never intended for long term use, and the Vikings had no way to replace them. It was Baleog who first managed to direct his chakra through his mechanical limb, and move it again by using the chakra as a power source. The others were quick to follow in his example.

When Naruto had arrived, they had started training him more out of boredom than anything else. The snowstorm had kept them from moving for months, and training him kept the worst of the doldrums at bay.

Each had had something to teach the child and he had been eager to learn. Eventually, their story had come out, even to the point of showing him the notes the 'idea man' had made for them, along with the reasons it wouldn't work. Naruto had sworn that day to help them home, in thanks for their kindness towards him.

It was only in this last year that he had begun to realise how few limits there were to his chakra when he truly plumbed its depths, and it was Fang and Scorch, with connections to the spirit world, who had divined the reasons behind it, supplying him at the same time the reason why he had been hated and feared in Konoha so, a question that had nagged at him for years.

Though he hated the Kyuubi for what it had wrought on him, unintentionally or not, he was also thankful that it gave him the power with which he could return his friends to their rightful places.

He turned, seeing expectant, hopeful faces. His long braid smacked against his back - he had grown it in honour of Erik, whose lessons he had taken to best. He smiled.

"It's ready." Fang and Scorch had decided to follow the Vikings back to their world. Fang's world wasn't kind to people like him, but the Vikings had great respect for the Ulfsark, which is what they would take him for. Scorch was a purely spiritual entity, and so couldn't supply the 'coordinates' for the journey.

The Vikings stepped forward, Erik spoke.

"You don't know how much this means to us, boy. We've got some gifts, to say goodbye with. You'll start your own journey soon, and they'll suit you well." He reached up to his eye, and dismantled the lens from his helmet, along with the breathing apparatus, leaving it just a piece of armour. He handed the lens to Naruto, and followed it with a pair of boots sized to his feet. "Where we're going, this will only get questions asked.

Naruto looked at the boots. Erik's rocket boots had long since burned out, never really intended for use inside an atmosphere, or at non-zero gravity. Erik had been forced to adapt his chakra techniques to replicate their effect. Even without the rocket mechanisms, Erik had still worn the boots - the space age metal that made up the greater part of them was better armour than anything that could be bought on this world. He had dismantled the armour in order to fit it better to the good leather boots he now passed on to Naruto. They wouldn't do anything other than keep his feet warm and protected, but the sentiment was appreciated.

Besides, Naruto had learnt the same techniques as Erik; he needed no help in moving fast.

Olaf stepped forward, offering his shield.

"I always preferred my old wooden one, you know. So much lighter..."

Naruto took the shield solemnly. Regardless of what he said, the shield meant a lot to the stout man, and was a priceless gift, being as close to invulnerable as anything he had ever seen. It represented the man's wish that he remain healthy, well protected.

Baleog said nothing at first, merely flipping the polished cylinder of metal to Naruto. At Erik's nudge, he merely said "I'm keeping the arm, questions be damned. I'll cover it up if I have to."

Fang said nothing, and offered nothing more than a grip of his hand and a smile. Gift-giving was a human thing, and Naruto understood well the Wolf-man's more bestial nature, having a fragment of the same himself.

Scorch puffed smoke, and a few flickers of flame. It was a reminder of the time he had spent with Naruto, teaching him to do the same. He reached under one wing and pulled out a par of scrolls. Naruto had seen his own summoning contract enough times to know what they were. He looked up at the dragon curiously.

"This world," the dragon began, "it has no one like me, but there was one who was...close enough." A blush lit green scales a virulent red. "I haven't been alone all these years. The first scroll is the contract for my son, although he's just an egg at the moment. Give him a good name, Naruto. I'd take him with me but it wouldn't suit. I am uncomfortable in the spirit world, having been conceived, born and raised in the prime material plane. This one," he nosed the scroll lightly; "he would be uncomfortable living constantly in the material plane. That's just the way it is."

Naruto nodded, taking in what he had been told.

"And the other one...?"

"That's his mother. We're parting on good terms. She might help you, if you have a need, and if you petition her right. It will help if you take good care of my son; he'll be immature for a long time yet for her kind grows slower and larger than mine."

Naruto nodded, opening both scrolls and signing his name in blood quickly before he could heal.

"Does she have a name?" He wanted to make a good impression when he dealt with her. If she was anything like a dragon, she'd be proud...

"Nothing she calls herself, but some of the other spirits call her Gojira. I don't think she's incredibly fond of it, so don't call her that to her face, huh. You can still use it to call her by; just don't address her by it."

"Gojira, got it!" Naruto agreed. He eyed the sun, noting it was nearing midday. "Planetary alignments the best it's gonna be. I guess this is goodbye."

Erik nodded, "For now, at least. You know the drill, though. Live an honourable life. Die in glorious battle, and some day we'll meet in the halls of Valhalla. Until then, though..."

He stepped forward, coming to the centre of the runic array. The others followed him a moment later.

Naruto knelt by the side of the array, and dug his nails into his palms, letting the blood flow freely. He focused his chakra and slammed his palms over the edge of the array, pouring his chakra into it, and then reaching deeper still for the Kyuubi's.

He looked up into grinning faces and smiling eyes as the red chakra shrouded his vision, engulfing the array and those standing on it. He felt all his strength running out of him, and managed to hold on just long enough for the drain to end when he collapsed, knowing he had succeeded.

He awoke, hours later on the edge of a wide, shallow crater. It was as though a scoop had simply taken off the top few inches of rock. He smiled and returned to the huts.

He had packed beforehand, not planning on staying here longer now his friends were gone, but he took the time to sit down and assemble his gifts. He managed to fit the lens and breathing device to an old pair of goggles he had bought on one of his rare trips to the cities of Snow country. The boots went on his feet, and it was the work of moments to rig a holster for the metallic cylinder that was Baleog's energy sword, now his. The scrolls he meandered over for a while, before eventually sealing them as he had been taught into a tooth that had once belonged to Scorch. It hadn't faded back to the spirit world, and he still hoped to find out why someday.

He strung the dragon tooth on a leather thong, and as an afterthought added a pair of werewolf teeth - trophies from a sparring match with Fang - before stringing the whole lot around his throat and tying them there.

He pulled his pack over one shoulder and set the goggles on his head before leaving. When he was a good distance from the huts, he reared back and belched a mighty gout of flame at them, waiting to see them catch before turning again.

He pulled his goggles over his eyes, letting his chakra flare briefly and noting the display on the lens as he did so, telling him of the infrared heat source behind him. He smirked at the display and tapped his feet, getting used to the unfamiliar feel of the boots.

'Look out Konoha, here comes Uzumaki Naruto!'

He was off, leaving only the burning buildings and a trail of rapidly melting footprints as proof of his presence.