Chapter 3 — Shadows and Foundations
The rain hadn't let up for three days. It was the steady, patient kind — the sort that seeped into stone and kept people indoors.
Jiraiya's sandals squelched against the muddy road as he walked up to the Sarutobi compound. The smell of incense drifted out past the gates, where a memorial table stood under a black canopy.
A framed photo of Hiruzen, taken years ago, sat in the center. His eyes crinkled in that small smile of his, the one that could soften even the hardest reprimand. Offerings lined the table — flowers, fruit, and folded notes from civilians and shinobi alike.
Jiraiya stood there for a long moment. He wasn't sure if the rain on his face was all rain.
"You were stubborn to the end, old man," he muttered. "But you always kept your word."
He placed a small sake bottle at the table's edge — the same kind they'd shared after the end of the Second War — and bowed his head.
By the time he reached the Hokage's office, the rain had left streaks across his cloak, his hair heavier than usual. He didn't knock.
"Nice of you to still be alive, brat."
Minato looked up from a stack of scrolls. "You always know how to make an entrance, sensei."
Kushina glanced over from the corner, where she was rocking a bundled Naruto in her arms. "Jiraiya. About time you showed your face."
He shut the door behind him. "I came as soon as I heard. Figured the Hokage might be too busy to send an invite."
"You figured right," Minato said, leaning back in his chair. "We've been rebuilding since the night of the attack."
Jiraiya's eyes found the bundle in Kushina's arms. "So that's the little troublemaker."
Kushina walked over, holding Naruto just out of reach. "Naruto Uzumaki Namikaze. Our sochi-chan. He's perfect."
"I'll be the judge of that," Jiraiya said, holding out his arms.
She hesitated for a breath before handing him over. The moment the baby settled in his arms, Jiraiya's posture shifted — a quiet, unguarded stillness taking over.
"You've got her hair," he murmured. "And your father's eyes. Dangerous combination."
Naruto squirmed, let out a small grunt, and then went still again.
Jiraiya looked at Minato. "I heard what Hiruzen did. Doesn't surprise me. He always carried more than he let on."
"He saved the village," Minato said simply.
"Yeah," Jiraiya agreed. "and he left it all in your hands now."
The rain had eased to a drizzle by the time Minato and Jiraiya settled into the Hokage's private quarters. Kushina had gone to put Naruto down for a nap, leaving the two men with a pot of tea between them.
"You've been away a while," Minato said, pouring them both cups. "What's the word outside Fire Country?"
Jiraiya sipped, then set his cup down with a soft clink. "Iwa won't be making a move. Not now. You left them bleeding after Kannabi Bridge — too many of their jonin and elite units dead. Even Onoki knows better than to throw more bodies at you right now."
Minato didn't relax, but the line between his brows eased slightly. "That's something."
Jiraiya leaned back. "Kumo, though… that's a different story. Their shinobi have been spotted near the northern border. Small units, keeping their distance. Could be routine scouting — or they're looking for an opening."
Minato's eyes narrowed. "An opening like a village still recovering from a tailed beast attack."
"Exactly," Jiraiya said. "They'll smile for the treaty table, but their hands will be reaching for whatever they think will tip the balance. And Kumo never goes for small prizes."
Minato tapped a finger against the cup. "Then we make sure they find nothing worth stealing."
Jiraiya smirked. "Spoken like a man who already has a plan."
"I always have a plan," Minato said, his voice calm — but there was steel in it.
Two days later, the council room was filled with the heads of every major clan.
Minato stood at the head of the table, cloak draped over the back of his chair. He didn't sit.
"First," he began, "thank you. The aftermath of the Nine-Tails' attack could have been far worse without your clans' efforts. The Hyūga's Byakugan gave us early warning of breaches. The Uchiha Police Force maintained order in the evacuation zones. The Inuzuka tracked civilians through the smoke. The Nara, Yamanaka, and Akimichi coordinated supply lines. The Aburame's kikaichū scouted damaged sectors. Every one of you made the difference between survival and destruction."
There were nods around the table. Even Fugaku Uchiha inclined his head in acknowledgment.
"But," Minato continued, "we can't rely on reacting. Our coordination was good — but not good enough. We need tighter inter-clan communication and more integrated training. That means joint drills, shared intelligence, and cross-clan task forces."
Shikaku leaned back in his chair. "That'll mean breaking a few old habits."
"Better that than breaking under the next attack," Minato replied smoothly.
Hiashi Hyūga's expression didn't change, but he said, "The Hyūga are willing."
Shibi Aburame adjusted his glasses. "As are we."
Fugaku's gaze met Minato's. "The Uchiha will cooperate. So long as respect flows both ways."
"It will," Minato said. "We strengthen together, or we fall apart separately."
There was a low rumble of agreement around the table. Minato pressed on, shifting to logistics, post-attack patrol rotations, and trade route monitoring. He spoke with precision, aware of every glance exchanged between the clan heads — reading undercurrents as easily as a scroll.
By the time the meeting ended, the alliances in the room were just a little stronger than when it began.
That night, the house was quiet except for the soft patter of rain on the roof.
Minato sat at the kitchen table with a large sheet of sealing parchment spread before him. Ink jars, brushes, and sealing tags littered the surface. Across from him, Kushina was carefully etching a spiral matrix, her tongue caught between her teeth in concentration.
Naruto sat in a little chair beside them, wide-eyed as he clutched a wooden block.
"Space-time detection seals," Minato said, not looking up from his work. "Layered with a coordinate lock to prevent unauthorized entry."
"And a chakra disruptor for anything that forces its way through," Kushina added, dotting a line of tiny runes. "If that masked bastard tries again, the barrier corps will know before he can blink."
Naruto banged his block on the table, making a wet splat in the ink pot.
"Oi—" Minato reached over with a towel, wiping his son's small fingers. "You're too young to be part of the Barrier Corps, sochi-chan."
Kushina smirked. "Never too early to get used to seals."
They worked for another hour, pausing only when Naruto demanded attention or when Minato refilled the tea. It was the kind of night that reminded them they weren't just Hokage and kunoichi — they were partners, parents, and still a team.
"This will take months to perfect," Minato said, studying the intricate diagram.
Kushina leaned back, stretching. "Good thing we're stubborn."
Three years later.
The streets of Konoha were bright again, markets full and laughter common. The massive wooden gates bore subtle new seals, invisible to most eyes — a net woven through the entire perimeter, capable of detecting and rejecting any space-time ninjutsu that touched it.
Jiraiya arrived in the afternoon, strolling up to the gates with his usual swagger. His eyes flicked over the markings. "These new seals… nice work. Be a nightmare for anyone trying to sneak in."
Minato met him at the office. "That's the point. No more surprises."
Kushina entered with Naruto — now three, with hair just as wild as his and a grin just as cheery. He rushed to Minato's side. "Papa! Look how fast I can run!"
Jiraiya chuckled. "Guess you inherited your old man's legs."
Before they could get further, an ANBU appeared at the doorway. "Hokage-sama — a delegation from Kumogakure has arrived. They are seeking to negotiate the peace treaty."
Minato's eyes narrowed slightly. "Prepare the reception hall."
The council chamber of Kumogakure was lit in gold and shadow, lanterns swaying faintly in the mountain wind. The Raikage's seat was carved from dark stone, raised above the semicircle of advisors who now spoke in measured, dangerous tones.
"…the Byakugan would change everything," one elder said, his voice low but certain. "Their sight, their range — combined with our strength, we would be untouchable."
Another leaned forward. "Konoha is still rebuilding after the Nine-Tails attack. Their guard will be down. The Hyūga heiress is young. Vulnerable."
A sat back in his chair, massive arms crossed, eyes half-lidded in a way that did not mean he was tired. "You want to steal from the Leaf, you are underestimating Namikaze."
One of the shinobi in the room — a tall man in dark armor — nodded without hesitation. "They would do the same to us if given the chance. This is not theft, Raikage-sama. It's seizing an opportunity."
A's gaze swept the room, heavy as a hammer. "And if this 'opportunity' turns into a war?"
A pause. Then the first elder answered, "We will make it clean. Swift. They will never be able to prove it was us."
A's jaw flexed. He turned his head to look out at the night sky through the chamber's high window, where storm clouds drifted past the moon. "Do what you want."
The advisors exchanged glances — surprise, then satisfaction.
But A wasn't finished. His voice cut through the air like a blade.
"If you succeed, Kumo gains the Byakugan. If you fail…" His gaze came back to them, sharp enough to pin a man to his seat. "…you will answer for it alone. I will not protect you from what follows."
The silence that followed was absolute.
One by one, the council members inclined their heads. They understood the terms.
A leaned back again, the weight of the conversation already sliding from his shoulders. "Then go. And remember — in Kumo, only results matter."