"Will you tell me a story?" The young blonde asked, burrowing into his pillow. The woman made to tuck the sheets in but he batted her hand away, insisting he was too old for his mother to tuck him into bed.

"Well then you must be too old for bedtime stories," she smiled, kneeling beside his bed.

"Not this one," he insisted, his eyes wide with the horror of outgrowing such a thing.

The woman frowned in confusion. "Which one?"

"You know," he said, sitting up in bed.

"I'm not a mind reader, Minato," she said. He rolled his eyes at this; he was not all together thoroughly convinced that she wasn't.

"The one about the Golden Devil of Konoha," he said eagerly.

"Where on earth did you hear that name?" She asked, blinking in surprise.

"Sensei talked about him in class today."

"And he called him the Golden Devil?" Her voice going a little higher with each syllable

"Well no," Minato said, looking down at his sheets slightly abashed. "Dante called him that, out in the yard. Dante said the man was so frightening that enemy shinobi swore they were staring into the face of the devil."

The woman let out a laugh. "Oh is that what he said?"

"He said he was the greatest shinobi who ever lived, besides his dad of course."

"Is that so," she said distractedly combing her fingers through his feathery hair.

"Did you ever meet him?" He asked, whipping around to look at her.

"No," she said, perhaps a little too quickly. She watched as the young boy's eyes became downcast. "But I heard a story about him once. A story that I'm sure Dante hasn't even heard before."

Minato's eyes grew wide, like she was about to hand him the key to city.

"There was a time, once a month," she began, "When the moon hit the river at just the right moment. Its pure white rays reflect perfectly against the gentle waves, lazily touching the banks. Diamonds appear to be waiting just below the river's surface, forever out of the grasp of any mortal. And when the winds are calm and the forest dares not breathe louder than a whisper, one can hear the river's gentle lullaby. The river's spirit rises to the surface then, the waters swirling around her form till she is as solid as the river's rocks. Few have ever seen this beautiful apparition, the transformation of a goddess into the shape of a simple mortal. She rarely allows it. Humans are so undeserving; polluting her waters, stealing her fish, trampling upon her until her clear waters turns muddy. She dares not be seen for fear they will spoil her as well. The spirit is always careful to bathe beneath the willows, so as to remain unseen by any passersby."

"Hey," Minato interrupted, irritated. "You said this was about the Golden Devil, not some girl!"

"Such impatience for someone training to be a ninja." The woman tweaked the boy's nose. "I'm getting there, darling."

"But one such night, lying just beneath the willows was a man. In her fury of being discovered, she reached for him, intent on drowning him within her icy depths. But she stopped. The man's eyes were closed and he breathed heavily, like a great stone was pressing against his chest. A pool of blood was slowly forming by his side, bubbling like a spring. In most circumstances she would have left him to bleed, glad for there to be one less human dirtying her waters. But there was something about the man that kept her from leaving."

"Even on the cusp of death, he looked quite handsome. His hair was such a beautiful gold, that she could not help but reach out and touch it, wondering in amazement as if felt like feathers beneath her fingers. When she brushed his hair away, a hand shot up grabbing her wrist. She gave a hiss at his touch, unused to such a thing. Backing away, deeper into the water, she saw his eyes open only as wide as slits. But even so she could see they were an unfathomable green, a color like the reflection of her water's surface. They stared at each other a moment, uncertainty filling the silent night air."

"But the silence was broken as the man tried to move, a painful groan escaping his pale lips. She watched with a distant interest as he tried to lift himself up, giving a startled splash when he dropped to the ground, too weak to move. Against every instinct she moved closer to him, noticing him watching her every move through half-lidded eyes. As her attention went to the wound he spoke, causing her to jump."

"Who are you?" He growled, irritated by the nauseating pain of the wound. She blinked at the man, her mind going cloudy. She had never spoken to a human before. Certainly, they had spoken to her. Old wives throwing coins into her shallow depths with prayers of good health and fortune. Lovers begging at her banks for hopes of true love. She rolled her eyes at the ridiculous notion that she would grant any of them their wishes. The pure audacity of the human race astounded her and so she left their prayers unanswered. But she could not do the same to this man.

"Seine," she whispered quickly, noticing the pool of blood grow as he spoke. Later she would wonder why she had given him her secret name. How often had her father told her that a name is precious and must be protected? And there she was handing it to a perfect stranger. She was about to ask the same of him, when she noted his closed eyes and shallow breathing. She looked around for something to staunch the bleeding but there was nothing. Perhaps she could use—

A great clap of sound erupted close by, followed by a rush of wind that ruffled her waters. Staring out in that direction, she heard angry voices drawing closer. At the same moment the man's eyes snapped open, more calm and alert then she had ever seen. He made another attempt to move, but she held him down.

"Enough," he snapped, brushing her hand aside. "They're after me. You have to leave or they will kill you."

Seine almost laughed at the ridiculous notion, but the stern look in the man's eyes kept her face straight.

"Will they kill you?" She asked curiously, her ears pricking as the shouts grew louder. The man gave an easy laugh.

"They'll certainly try."

Seine looked pointedly at his open wound, knowing full well it would not take much trying on the assailants' part to kill him. Moving quickly before she could give herself time to think of the consequences of her actions, she pulled him into the water with her. She felt his body tense beneath her grip but he was too weak to fight her off. She pulled him beneath the shadowy water, as she saw the blurred outlines of the man's attackers. They stopped to stand right where the man had lain. Seine felt the man stiffen beside her. She had forgotten that pesky need to breath that all humans had. The men stood right above them making it impossible for her to bring the man up for air.

Keeping her eyes downcast so that she would not have to meet his eyes, she pressed her lips to his, breathing life back into his burning lungs. Seine had never felt such warmness before, it felt like the sun gently caressing her surface until she bubbled like a hot spring. Quickly, she pulled away, turning her head from the stranger so that he would not see her blush. What silliness! A mere human should not be able to make her feel like this. The smell of blood reached her nostrils, gentle wisps of it swirling around with the water.

Her eyes lifted to the man's face, his skin as pale as a floating corpse. Seine looked up through the surface at the men still standing there. She knew she could heal him but it would take a great amount of energy and make them visible to the assailants. Seine met the man's eyes before placing a hand on his gaping wound. She could only imagine the pain that it caused but the man simply stared steadily back at her, a grimace the only indication of his discomfort. Closing her eyes, she called for the river's energy, allowing it to wash over her. Concentrating, she pushed the energy into her hand, till white sparks formed around the wound. The sparks popped and hissed around them, breaking through the surface and dashing into the night air.

With a burst of energy she pushed them both to the surface. Shouts echoed across the water. Suddenly, Seine felt a burning sensation slit against her arm. She moved to pull them back beneath the water, but he was gone. Looking around in panic, she stopped when she saw a sudden burst of yellow light.

It was the man standing casual on the shore, glaring intently at five other men. Seine blinked in surprise. How could he have gotten to the shore so quickly?

"Are you still alive?" One of the men growled with annoyance.

The man touched his side, the wound completely gone; he looked up to stare at her, a half-smile on his lips. Seine dipped lower beneath the water so that he would not see the blush on her cheeks. The smile disappeared when he turned back to the men.

"I guess you all weren't as good as you thought," he mocked, pulling a strange knife from his pocket. Seine blinked at the weapon as it winked in the moonlight. She had seen countless others like it, imbedded on her shores or in the backs of the dead floating on the river.

So he was one of those. She had forgotten what they were called but she remembered perfectly when a great migration of men came to her shores and diverted some of her water into their village nearby. From that day forth, her peaceful sanctuary transformed into a hive of laundresses, children and villagers—tainting her pure water with their filth. Seine tried to muster some feeling of resentment or hate for this man, in the hopes that it would distance them—but she could not.

If Seine had been a lesser being she might have missed it but, as it were, she saw every flicker of the man's body as he moved at an impossible speed from one man to the next, slitting each of their throats with a careless flick of his wrist. In a matter of moments the night was silent again, with the man standing quietly amongst the dead.

The woman looked down at the blonde boy whose eyes were waging a silent war to stay open.

"The end," she announced quickly. Minato's eyes shot open.

"Wait a second that's it?" He said, clearly feeling jilted. "There has to be more."

"That's all I can remember," she lied, kissing his forehead. "Besides its late."

"Alright," the boy grumbled, burrowing deeper into his sheets.

"Goodnight, darling."

"Goodnight, mother."

AbAbAbAbAbAbAb

The woman left the house in the dead of night, waiting patiently till she was sure Minato was asleep and her absence would not be noticed. She donned a cloak to shield her from the night wind and wandering eyes. As she walked down the quiet street she thought back to that old memory she dragged out for Minato.

Swimming to the shore had she lifted herself up on her hands to get a better look at the dead men, she stared at them with a morbid interest until she heard the man clear his throat. Seine looked at him curiously. The man's cheeks were a bright red and his piercing green eyes were flitting around to look at everything but her.

"What is wrong?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Do you by chance possess any clothes?" He asked clearing his throat again; he scratched the back of his head nervously, still not looking at her.

Clothes? What an unusual question. What on earth would she need clothes for? Seine looked down at herself wondering if there was something about her that the man found displeasing and wished to have covered up. She did not see anything, just perfect light skin as clear as her water. Humans were so very strange. Some were so modest that they wore clothes when they swam. She simply could not comprehend how any being could allow simple cloth to prevent the pure feeling of water against your skin. Rolling her eyes, she dropped back into the water, everything covered save her head and shoulders.

"Is this better?" She asked, cocking an eyebrow. He nodded and came to sit at the edge of her river bank.

"Who are you?" He asked, staring at her intently with a look of wonderment that made her feel dizzy.

"I told you I'm Seine," she answered.

"No," he said shaking his head. "I mean what are you?"

"I'm the spirit of the river," she smiled, enjoying the attention. "I am the water, the bank, the bed and the rocks. The springs, the falls and the ice. Does that answer your question?"

"Not even a little bit," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Why were those men trying to kill you," she asked curiously, lazily treading water.

He stared down at her steadily, a serious look hardening his eyes. "Because I killed their master."

"Why?"

"That is classified," he sighed, the look disappearing as he stood up. She frowned at the strange word but decided against asking its meaning, for fear she would appear foolish. The man turned to leave but hesitated for a moment.

When he was a child his grandmother told him stories of water spirits. They were evil, little things who coaxed small children to their death, pulling them deeper and deeper into their icy depths until the life was crushed from their lungs. This creature, however, was nothing like his grandmother had described. At first glance she looked human but then one would start to notice her skin was too flawless and pale to be human, her eyes too impossibly deep and blue to belong to a mortal and her hair was such a deep black that it looked cobalt blue when the moonlight touched it.

"You never said your name, human," she said, breaking his enchantment.

"It's Arashi," he said giving a deep bow. "And I have yet to thank you for saving my life."

Feeling flustered, she did her best to hide her discomfort. "Well I had to stop the bleeding or else you would have gotten blood in my river and my waters are tainted enough as it is without desecrating it with human blood."

"All the same," he smiled. "You have my eternal gratitude."

Seine opened her mouth to speak, when a sudden feeling struck her. The moon was slowly sinking, giving way to the persistent rays of dawn.

"I must go," she whispered, sinking deeper into the water. Arashi watched with startled amazement as the beautiful woman disappeared into the dark depths of the river, leaving nothing but a ripple in the water.

From the cover of her liquid form, she studied the man with the same intent as he studied the river. Thoughts and emotions swirled around inside her like a whirlpool. Her disgust for humans seemed to lessen as she stared at him; it seemed ridiculous to despise a race that produced such a being. She cursed at herself for feeling like this. It was weak. And yet…

"Ah Taura," a familiar voice called, dragging her back to the present. "What a lovely surprise."

She cringed at the name but kept it well hidden, after all these years it still felt wrong on her. It was tight and uncomfortable like a pair of shoes that were two sizes too small. She was so consumed with her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed when she reached her destination.

"Hokage-sama," she nodded. I apologize for coming to you so late."

The older man waved her apology away with his hand, nodding to the mounds of paperwork overflowing his desk. "Nonsense, it is not like I was going home anytime soon."

The woman smiled, at the man's talent for putting people at ease.

"So what is it that I can help you with, my dear," he asked politely, settling back into his chair.

"It's about Minato," she said. She noticed, with disgust, the man's eyes visibly brighten at the mention of the boy's name. "I commend you for your discretion over the years; however, it worries me that Arashi is being taught in the Academy now."

The Hokage frowned. "Taura, I assure you nothing personal is mentioned in the lesson. It is just a simple overview of noted shinobi of our village. It is important that our youngsters understand their great inheritance—perhaps Minato most of all."

The woman's eyes flared, the only indication she had heard. "I know what you are doing, Hokage-sama."

The man remained silent.

"Don't you think I see how you look at him? How his instructors look at him? Did you think I wouldn't notice the extra attention he is given at the Academy?"

"He is not given any treatment greater then what is normally given to exceptional students," the Hokage answered calmly.

"Ahh but you have special plans for this one," she snarled, her calm, collected air disappearing with a stroke. "The man you chose as your successor is gone so you have found another one. A perfect copy. Only you can mold this one into your image, make him into the perfect Hokage."

"You make this sound so villainous," he said. "What young shinobi doesn't dream of the chance of becoming the next leader of the village?"

"And if it kills him?" She shrilled. "What happens when all of your plotting and planning just leads to his death?"

"Taura," the Third said. "Minato will not end up like Arashi. I promise you that."

AbAbAbAbAbAbAb

"The boy shows incredible promise."

Jiraiya turned to look doubtfully at his sensei. "He looks like a shrimp."

"He is still young," Sarutobi said, taking a puff from his pipe. "But I see a great future for him."

The young sannin rolled his eyes and then turned to look over at the small blonde boy training with the other students. "Look just because he is a Namikaze does not mean he can replace Arashi, sensei."

Sarutobi smiled as the young blonde executed a perfect throw, landing the kunai into the target while the rest of his peers were stilling trying to find which side was the pointy end.

"I think you will find Minato has inherited more than just his looks from his father."

AbAbAbAbAbAbAb AbAbAbAbAbAbAb AbAbAbAbAbAbAb AbAbAbAbAbAbAb

Seven pages! Ohhhhhh yeah! Uhhhhh-huhhhhhh! I find this to be excellent progress for a girl who usually has an attention span that barely outlasts a gold fish and usually only stretches four pages at the most.

So I was watching the episode where Jiraiya was talking about how he sees Minato as his kid and it struck me that we never hear Minato's back story. So I made one! But it just so happened I was watching spirited away with a friend and started obsessing over it, so that may be the reason for the water spirit thing (not ashamed to admit it). I apologize if this gets a little confusing. If you have questions just shoot me a message.

So let me know what you thought or if I should even continue this thing!