Minato Namikaze—the Hokage—sat less than an arm's length away.
Kushina Uzumaki smiled with a warmth so intense it felt like sitting too close to a bonfire.
I simply sat stiff, uncomfortable, and ninety percent trapped in my own overthinking… with a tiny part of me quietly curious.
"So!" Kushina said, leaning her cheek against her palm while she examined me with bright, interested eyes. "You're Miyuki-chan's kid. She kept bragging about you back in the day—said you were already giving her headaches before you were even in the Academy."
I lifted my chin slightly. "I'm… rather talented."
Minato's eyes softened with recognition. "Confident one, I see. You really do take after your mother."
Minato's compliment should have been easy to brush off. But why did he have to smile like that?
He's alive. Right here. Smiling. Being the exact person people worship. The man who lives through a war and still retains that kindness. But he dies anyway.
If he didn't die… the Nine-Tails wouldn't break free. The attack wouldn't happen. No jinchūriki trauma. No laws tightening. No distrust spreading.
Without the attack, the Uchiha wouldn't be blamed. No segregation. No suspicion – well not more. No buildup to the massacre.
Everything bad starts with their deaths.
My stomach twisted. Minato talked about peace like it was possible.
Kushina radiated warmth like she belonged in a world that wasn't doomed.
If they lived… so much wouldn't break. How am I supposed to sit here, eating ramen, knowing when and how they die? Knowing it's soon? Knowing I can't warn them? That I can't change it without blowing myself up politically, socially—and maybe literally?
My throat tightened.
Even if I tried… who would believe a six-year-old? They'd drag me to T&I for "visions" or "classified intel leaks." And then what? Interrogate me? Use me? Kill me?
No. I can't risk that. I can't risk the Uchiha. I can't risk my life.
My pulse sped up—too fast.
My chakra spiked ever so slightly, unstable from stress.
I stared down at my bowl, trying to breathe evenly. Just act normal. I forced my shoulders not to shake.
But Kushina's eyes narrowed almost immediately.
Her senses were too sharp and then there was Kurama's emotional sensitivity.
Kushina tilted her head. "You're tense," she murmured slowly. "But it's not fear. At least—not fear of us."
She leaned forward, eyes scanning my face, my aura, the subtle tremor in my chakra.
"It's more like… confusion. No concern."
Her brows knit even further.
"And something else. Something heavy. Why guilt? What are you blaming yourself for, hmm?"
She hesitated—then added, softer:
"It feels like you're worried people, no we might—"
She stopped, the implication hanging between us like a blade.
I froze.
Kushina's eyes widened at her own impression.
Minato's hand shifted slightly toward his hip—not threatening, just instinctively prepared.
"N-No!" I blurted. "I'm not—there's nothing—I'm just hungry, that's all."
Kushina hesitated, then slowly leaned back. "Strange kid," she muttered puzzled.
Minato relaxed, though his eyes remained sharp. "Are you worried about something in the village?" he asked gently. "Or about the Uchiha?"
My stomach clenched. Not this is taking the wrong turn.
"I'm six," I deadpanned. "What would I worry about?"
Silence. Perfect. The Hokage and his wife stared at me like I'd sprouted wings.
Minato and Kushina exchanged a quiet look—something shifting between them.
Kushina brightened suddenly. "Anyway—you train a lot, right? Your chakra feels a little off. You definitely overdid something recently."
I sighed. "…Lightning Release. And shadow clones. And conditioning. And Fuinjutsu. And Flicker. And–"
Kushina blinked. "Wow. You really are talented."
I stood up. "Anyway—I should really go home now. Have a good night."
I slipped out before I could say something fatal to my survival.
In Ichiraku Minato leaned back, thoughtful. "She's hiding something. What did you see?"
Kushina's expression softened—not suspicious but concerned. "Not dangerous," she said slowly. "Just… sad. Heavy. Like she's scared of something that hasn't happened yet." She rubbed her arms.
"It feels personal. Not clan politics. More like she wants to protect someone or something … but thinks she can't."
Minato frowned, folding his hands on the counter.
"Worried about the Uchiha?" he asked.
Kushina shook her head. "No. This is… deeper. It's not fear of the village. It's fear of loss."
Minato went quiet.
"…We should keep an eye on her," he finally said.