Existence: The Roots Of My Soul

[McPhoenixDavid]

Roots of My Soul​

---

My very first memory was…



Light.



Not warm, not cold. Just light.



It didn't burn, nor did it soothe. It just was. A surreal experience, as if my entire existence was caught in a state of weightless limbo.



I didn't think. Not in the way I do now. I didn't need to. I was, and that was enough.



Time passed, but I never counted. I simply… grew.



At first, I was small, fragile—a tiny sprout clinging to the dirt, drinking in the sun's radiance. Then, I stretched, reaching higher, my form twisting skyward. Leaves sprouted, fresh and green. Buds formed. Then flowers. Then fruit.



I didn't know what I was, but I didn't care either. I simply existed, rooted deep in the earth, branches swaying with the wind. The world around me was alive in ways I couldn't comprehend but somehow felt. The whispers of the breeze, the tiny footsteps of creatures scurrying along my bark, the delicate weight of birds nesting in my limbs.



The seasons came and went, each bringing its own trials.



Winter was suffocating, burying me under layers of ice and snow, my branches stiff and brittle. I endured.



Monsoon was worse. Drowning. My roots drank too much, the ground turned to slush, and the air was thick with the scent of rot. I held firm.



Summer, though? Summer was bliss. The golden sun kissed my leaves, and I basked in its warmth.



But spring… spring was the best. My leaves turned pink, delicate blossoms painting the air with their soft fragrance. Bees danced between my flowers, drunk on nectar. Children laughed beneath my shade. Birds sang. Life thrived.



I was alive.



And I grew.



From a tiny sapling to a hulking tree. My roots stretched deep, veins entwined with the earth itself. My branches reached for the sky, stretching toward the endless blue. Creatures made their homes within me—birds in my arms, insects in my bark, foxes curled at my roots. My fruits fed them, my shade sheltered them.



I didn't mind.



Life was still, but it wasn't boring. It was good.



Until the day they came.



Monsters in the Forest



I had no eyes, but I felt them. Their presence was a ripple in the air, an unnatural force that made my leaves tremble and my roots quiver.



Three of them. Monsters.



Towering. Overwhelming. Uncaring.



Two against one.



A battle? No. This was more than that. This was destruction. The earth trembled beneath their clash, trees uprooted like weeds, the air itself screaming as their power tore through the sky.



I had witnessed animals fight before—predators and prey locked in the cycle of survival. But these creatures? They weren't fighting to live. They were annihilating.



The ground cracked.



The wind howled.



The sky darkened.



And then—



I was lifted.



No, not lifted. Ripped.



Roots severed, torn from the earth's embrace. My body, my existence, wrenched from the ground as if I was nothing more than a disposable weapon.



Then—



I flew.



Or rather, I was hurled.



A force beyond comprehension threw me with the strength of a hurricane. I couldn't see where I was going. I didn't need to.



Because the next sensation?



I will never forget it.



Fire.



Consuming, ravenous fire.



My bark cracked. My branches curled inward, blackened and charred. The heat gnawed at my being, peeling away layers, searing through every fiber of my existence.



I was burning alive.



I wanted to scream, but trees don't scream.



The last thing I felt was myself turning to ash.



Then…



Cold.



But not unpleasant.



Not like winter.



It was a still cold. A quiet cold.



I opened my eyes.



No. Not eyes.



Instinct drove me to move. I flicked something—something thin and fluid, propelling myself forward with a smooth, effortless motion.



Water.



I was in water.



No roots. No branches. No leaves. No sky.



Just water.



I twisted, testing my new form, feeling the way my body flowed with the currents.



Scales.



Fins.



Gills that inhaled, drawing the water into me, as natural as breathing once was.



I was… a fish.



A tiny thing, darting through the depths of a pond, where sunlight filtered in through the rippling surface above. My body moved with ease, weightless, free in ways I had never been before.



I had no roots tying me down. No branches to hold the sky. No creatures resting within me.



For the first time in this second life…



I was small.



And for the first time ever…



I was afraid.​

—ToT—​

Oddly enough, I adjusted.



Life as a fish wasn't so bad. It was strange at first, moving through the water, feeling weightless, but instinct took over, and soon enough, I was swimming like I had done it for lifetimes.



Which, I guess, I had.



I grew. Not just in experience, but in size. I started off small, a speck in the grand, endless blue of the pond. But time passed, and my body thickened, my fins grew broader, and my once-scrawny frame became something substantial. Something big.



And life as a fish?



Better than being a tree.



I had freedom now. I could move. No longer stuck in one place, swaying with the whims of the wind, waiting for seasons to change. If I wanted warmth, I swam where the sunlight kissed the water. If I wanted solitude, I dove deeper, where the world turned still and quiet.



But the world I had once known? It had changed.



Even from beneath the water, I could see it.



The carnage.



The aftermath of the monsters.



The once-proud trees that had stood tall and mighty were now splintered husks, their roots clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. The ground, where life once thrived, was cracked, scorched, and barren.



And in the sky…



A white thing.



Round. Looming. Cold and lifeless.



It hadn't been there before.



It was a wound in the heavens. A scar left behind by something beyond my comprehension. And every time I drifted near the surface, staring up at that unnatural thing, something in my being twisted with unease.



But I didn't let it bother me.



Months passed. I swam, I lived.



And then—



They came.



Two-Legged Creatures



I was gliding through the water, lazily twisting my body, when I felt it.



A disturbance.



Ripples in the pond, not from fish, not from birds diving in for a meal—no, this was different. A presence above me, looming, watching.



I twisted upward—



Pain.



Something caught me.



A tight grip, pulling me up, ripping me from the water.



I flailed, gasping as air—air—burned into my gills, choking me. The world spun, the comforting embrace of the water gone, replaced by the harsh, biting dryness of the surface.



Then I saw them.



Two-legged creatures.



Their bodies were covered, not in scales, not in fur, but in something... else.



Strands of skin.



Their eyes gleamed, not with hunger, not with survival, but something more.



And then—



They opened their mouths.



Not to bite. Not to eat.



But to speak.



Sounds formed from their lips, strange and foreign, yet laced with meaning. They were not like the animals I had known before, creatures that only acted on instinct.



They communicated.



Humans.



I was still writhing in their grasp when the blade struck.



A single, clean motion.



Pain.



Darkness.



Food, they said.



Then...



Ground.



Not the cool, damp soil of a tree's roots. Not the smooth, shifting currents of water.



Something else.



Something... soft.



I twitched, limbs unfamiliar, body strange. My vision swam, adjusting, my senses overwhelmed by a world too bright, too loud.



I moved.



Or at least, I tried to.



I flopped, uncoordinated, my body betraying me. I no longer had fins to guide me, no longer had roots to hold me firm. Instead, I had—



I lifted a trembling limb.



Not one.



Four.



Pale, tiny limbs. Clumsy, fragile, twitching with unfamiliar sensation. I wobbled, instinct pushing me forward, but my legs buckled, and I collapsed into the dirt.



I breathed.



Not through gills. Not through leaves. But through a mouth and nose, small and twitching.



I was a baby.



A baby...



Fox.



Life as a Fox



Once again, I adjusted.



At first, the world was nothing but sounds and sensations. The brush of soft fur against my side, warmth surrounding me, the distant murmurs of my siblings breathing in their sleep.



Instinct guided me. I learned to walk, step by step, my tiny paws sinking into the earth. The ground no longer felt alien—it was home. And as I grew, I began to understand the world through new eyes.



I was no longer the tallest being in the forest, no longer a silent guardian.



I was small.



Prey.



But I was fast. My body was built for movement, for weaving through underbrush, for darting between shadows. My senses were sharp—ears twitching at the faintest rustle, nose sniffing out the slightest change in the wind.



I lived.



I hunted.



I ran through the forest with my kind, learned to stalk, learned to survive.



It was a different life. But not a bad one.



Until they came.



The humans.



They did not come for food this time.



They did not come for survival.



There was no hunger in their eyes. No necessity in their actions.



They came for something else.



Entertainment.



It started as a chase. My kind had been hunted before, but never like this. There was no desperation, no need to feed a starving belly.



They laughed.



They threw things.



They set traps—not for necessity, but for sport.



And when they caught me, they did not hesitate.



A sharp impact.



Pain.



I gasped, my body shuddering as I collapsed into the dirt, warm blood soaking into my fur.



I twitched.



They laughed again.



Then—



Darkness.​

—ToT—​

For the first time in my many lives, I was huge.



Not just bigger than a fish, or larger than a fox. No, I was something titanic. A beast that towered over trees, my body a moving fortress of muscle and bone. My legs, thick as tree trunks, shook the ground with each step. My tail stretched long behind me, like a living whip, and my neck…



God, my neck.



It stretched high, reaching for the sun, allowing me to graze upon the tallest trees, plucking leaves with a jaw built for nothing but consumption. I had no claws, no fangs, no instincts for battle—only the endless hunger for greens, and a body designed to sustain its size with sheer, patient eating.



I was strong.



I was massive.



But I was also peaceful.



The world around me was vast, untouched. No humans, no hunters, no unnatural battles. Just an ancient forest, dense with towering trees, rivers that sparkled under the sun, and skies that stretched on forever. I was not the only one of my kind—I moved in a herd, slow and steady, our lives ruled by nothing but the sun and the seasons.



There was no fear.



No rush.



Life was simple.



For sixteen long years, I roamed the lands, drinking from rivers that never ran dry, feasting on trees that never seemed to wither. Predators came and went, but they never dared attack me.



I was too big.



Too strong.



And so, I lived.



Not with anxiety. Not with pain.



But with peace.



Until the day he came.



A God in the Forest



It started with footsteps.



Not like mine, which made the earth rumble like distant thunder. These were softer. Surer. Purposeful.



Then, a voice.



"You're a strong creature."



I froze.



I had seen nothing like him before.



He was small. Insignificant in size, barely reaching the height of my foot. His body was wrapped in strange fabric, his long black hair falling against his shoulders, and his red eyes—



Red.



I had never seen eyes like those.



They glowed like embers, swirling with something unnatural. Something dangerous.



"I've traveled for months to find this secret forest."



A predator? No. Predators needed to kill to survive. This one... didn't.



"You are perfect to try out my Susanoo."



I didn't know what that meant.



But I understood what happened next.



The sky darkened.



Something huge appeared—something even larger than me.



I didn't have time to react.



A flash of light, a shift in the air—



And pain.



Pain.



I was sliced.



My enormous body, built for endurance, built to withstand the tests of time itself—cut down in an instant.



Blood poured from me like a river, and my legs buckled.



As I collapsed, the last thing I saw was the man standing there, unmoved, his red eyes gleaming in the darkness of his creation.



"Tch. A disappointment."



I was not a challenge.



Not a beast to be feared.



I was just…



A test.



And then, nothing.



The Fall



Then—



I was falling.



Not standing.



Not grazing.



Not walking.



Falling.



The wind screamed around me, the sky spun wildly in my vision, the earth—no, the world—was rushing up to meet me, and I had no idea why.



I didn't know who I was.



I didn't know what I was.



But I knew one thing.



Fly.



I didn't know how I knew it, but I did.



Fly.



Because I was a newborn bird.



And I was falling.



My wings—tiny, fragile, useless—fluttered wildly as gravity pulled me down, as my instincts screamed at me to do something, anything, or I would die before I even lived.



I flapped.



Weakly.



I flapped again.



The wind caught me, lifting me ever so slightly, enough to slow the drop, enough to give me a chance.



I flapped again.



And again.



And again.



Clumsy at first. Erratic. A struggle. But then—



I steadied.



I soared.



I was no longer falling.



I was flying.​

—ToT—​

I soared for weeks.



No, lived in the sky.



The world below was nothing but a distant blur of green and brown, unimportant and far away. I didn't need trees. I didn't need the ground. Everything I needed, I took from the air.



I ate mid-flight, snatching prey with talons that had grown sharp and deadly. I slept while drifting on the wind, riding the currents so effortlessly it felt like second nature. I lived in a realm where nothing could touch me.



And I grew.



At first, I was merely a large bird. Then, a massive one. Then… a legendary one.



When I stretched my wings, I cast shadows over entire regions. Villages would darken when I passed, people looking up in awe and fear.



I wasn't just a bird.



I was something more.



I was… an Archaeopteryx.



I didn't know how I knew that, but I did.



Humans had no way to reach me. They were small, earthbound creatures.



I was free.



Or so I thought.



The Monsters Below



It was supposed to be another peaceful day. Just another lazy flight across the sky, watching the ants below scurry about their little lives.



Then, I saw them.



A battle.



Two monsters in human skin, locked in combat that shook the very foundations of the land itself. One commanded a hulking fox, its nine tails whipping like living disasters, its roar splitting the heavens. The other?



A titan of wood, thousands of hands, moving as if they belonged to a god.



I had never seen anything like it.



I wanted to see more.



I wanted to understand.



So I swooped closer—



And never even saw it coming.



A sphere, massive, unstoppable, erased me from existence.



There was no pain.



No struggle.



Just nothingness.



The Mammoth



I awoke.



Not to the sky.



Not to the air.



But to solid earth.



To strength.



I stood—massive, heavy, mighty.



I was no longer prey.



I was no longer fragile.



I was power.



Thick fur covered my body, shielding me from even the harshest cold. My tusks—great, curving weapons—gleamed like ivory blades, capable of goring anything that dared challenge me. My legs? Pillars of strength, each step I took shaking the very earth beneath me.



For the first time, I wasn't running.



For the first time, I wasn't hiding.



I was unstoppable.



A Happy Life



And what a life it was.



The forests were mine. I roamed them like a king, unchallenged, unafraid. Wolves? Powerless. Predators? Nothing. Even the changing seasons couldn't touch me.



I was strong.



I was free.



And most importantly—



I was happy.



Until they came.



The Hunters of the Strong



Not humans. Not the fragile ones I had known in past lives, the ones that scurried and hid. No, these were something else.



Something worse.



"Shinobi."



They weren't hunting me for food. They weren't killing me for survival.



They wanted something stupid.



"Daimyo decorations. Rare ivory."



I fought.



I fought.



I tore through them, my tusks swinging, my body crashing into trees, into the very earth itself.



But they… were not normal humans.



Lightning crackled through the air—



And I froze.



Pain like I had never known coursed through my veins. My body locked, my muscles betrayed me. My massive form collapsed, helpless, paralyzed, my own weight pressing down on me like a death sentence.



And they…



They butchered me.



Not for meat.



Not for survival.



For teeth.



For decoration.



And just like that…



Darkness.



The Cheetah



I woke up running.



I didn't know why.



I didn't know how.



But my legs were fast.



Blindingly fast.



The world blurred past me, wind whipping against my fur, paws barely touching the ground before they sprang forward again. Every movement was fluid, instinctual, effortless.



I was small again. Not towering. Not unmovable.



But I didn't need to be.



Because nothing could catch me.



The Joy of Speed



Life as a cheetah was…



Amazing.



I had never felt so alive.



Gone were the days of moving like a behemoth, of shaking the earth with every step. Now, I was a ghost, a blur, a streak of gold cutting through the endless plains.



Nothing could reach me.



Not predators.



Not enemies.



Not even death.



… Or so I thought.



The Hunters Return



But they came again.



Not for survival.



Not for necessity.



For sport.



"Look at that one! Fastest I've ever seen!"



"Let's see if we can take it down!"



I ran.



God, I ran.



I pushed my body beyond its limits, heart hammering, legs burning, the wind screaming in my ears.



But then—



A sharp pain.



Something pierced my body—something cold, something final.



And just like that…



I fell.



I tumbled, my momentum crashing into itself, the world spinning as I hit the ground, rolling, rolling, rolling—



And then, I was still.



Their laughter echoed as my world faded.



And then…



Darkness.



When I opened my eyes again…



I was warm.



Comfortable.



Safe.



I moved—my limbs small, my paws unsteady, my tail wagging on its own, an instinct I didn't understand.



I felt different.



Not wild.



Not alone.



But… domestic.



A sound reached my ears, familiar yet alien.



A voice.



"Oh! Look at you! What a cute little puppy!"



I was…



A dog.​

—ToT—​

I had never been loved before.



Not like this.



Not the quiet, patient love of a tree sheltering creatures without knowing them. Not the detached acceptance of a herd merely existing together. Not the fleeting joy of the wind as I soared.



This was warmth.



This was family.



The man and his wife took care of me, fed me, let me sleep inside their home. Their little daughter would hug me tight every night, burying her tiny hands in my fur, whispering things I didn't understand but somehow felt.



They needed me.



And I needed them.



Then, war came.



They called it the First Great Shinobi War.



I didn't understand what that meant, only that the man left one day with a deep frown and never came back.



The wife wept for weeks. The daughter stopped smiling.



So I stayed close.



I scared off bad men when they lurked too close. I barked at shadows. I was their protector, their last defense.



And then…



One day…



We were walking in the city.



The Assassins



They came out of nowhere.



Masked. Fast. Deadly.



"For Kumo!"



The words rang out like a curse, like the declaration of death itself.



Then—



Blood.



So much blood.



The wife fell first. The daughter screamed. The people around us were cut down, one by one, their bodies crumpling to the ground like discarded dolls.



I snapped.



I lunged.



I didn't care if they had blades, jutsu, power beyond my understanding—I bit, I clawed, I fought.



But I was just a dog.



A single slash, and—



Darkness.



The Bird in the Storm



I awoke with the sea beneath me.



Waves crashed, the wind howled.



I flapped, struggling to stay afloat.



I was… a seagull?



For days, I soared over a small island, watching as people bustled about—red-haired people, strong and confident, untouched by fear.



Then—



War.



Fire.



Explosions.



Uzu was burning.



They came from every side. Three nations, descending like vultures, tearing through the island with merciless precision. No one was spared.



Men. Women. Children.



I flew overhead, helpless. A mere bird in the wake of destruction.



Before I died, I saw him.



The leader of the island. His robes tattered, his face filled with desperate hope.



He was hiding a little girl in a well.



Believing, foolishly, that it would save her.



Then, fire engulfed us all.



Endless Deaths



I was a horse.



Only to be killed at birth—lungs too weak to survive.



I was a chicken.



Only to be slaughtered days later.



I was a bird.



Only to have my wings clipped, to live in a cage, to die without ever flying again.



I was a tiger.



Hunted. Tracked. Killed.



By shinobi.



Again.



And again.



And again.



And then—



Nothing.



Darkness.​

—ToT—​

The Final Rebirth



I drifted in darkness.



Again.



But this time, something was different.



I could feel my body forming, piece by piece, cell by cell, until the shape of my existence became clear.



Four limbs.



A mammal, then.



No claws.



But—hands.



A primate?



That wasn't new. I had been a chimpanzee before, a clever one. A gorilla once, too—powerful, towering.



But… something was different.



I wasn't alone.



A presence.



Dark. Twisting. Suffocating.



Something was right beside me, within this womb.



For the first time in all my countless lives, I wasn't being born alone.



What was it?



A sibling?



No. No, it didn't feel like a brother or a sister.



It felt like a storm, caged and waiting.



I didn't have time to think further.



Because birth was not easy.



It was pain.



More than any death I had experienced.



My head burned, my neck twisted, my shoulders yanked—



Was I dying again?



Had the shinobi learned how to hunt me before I was even born?



I had been crushed in eggs before. Ripped from wombs before I could breathe my first breath.



Was this the same?



No.



No—I was being born.



I felt it. The shift. The change.



Then—



Light.



Blinding, overwhelming, suffocating—



I screamed.



The Human Face



Voices.



"It's a boy, Minato!"



Wait.



What?



I barely had time to think before I was lifted. Hands touched me. Warm hands. Gentle hands.



Not claws. Not paws.



Hands.



I was placed in someone's arms.



And that's when I saw him.



A man with golden hair, blue eyes shining with a happiness I had never seen before in another creature.



His smile burned into my newborn mind.



Why was he so happy?



What was I?



A pet? Had I been born in some human nursery? It wouldn't be the first time. I had been a dog once, raised by humans. Maybe I was some domesticated animal again—



Then.



Then she took me.



I knew her.



I knew that red hair, those sharp eyes, that feeling of something unbreakable and strong.



That presence.



The well.



Uzu.



The little girl the leader had hidden away, hoping—praying—that she would survive.



She had.



She had grown.



But she looked so tired.



So weak.



Sweat clung to her face, her breath uneven, but her hands were steady as she cradled me against her.



She patted my head.



And then she spoke.



"Welcome to this world, Naruto… my sweet little son."



I froze.



No.



No, that wasn't right.



That wasn't possible.



I wasn't—



I couldn't—



I was human.



The Weight of a Name



I had lived for thousands of years.



As a tree, unmoving and eternal.



As a fish, drifting through waters untouched by time.



As a fox, a mammoth, a tiger, a bird—as everything.



I had lived as beasts both great and small.



I had been hunted, butchered, burned alive, torn apart, used, and discarded.



But never—not once—had I been this.



A human.



A creature that had killed me more than any other.



And now—



Now I was one of them.



Now I had a name.



"Naruto."



A name given with love.



A name spoken with warmth.



A name that was mine.



And in that moment, wrapped in the arms of a woman who had once been a lost child in a well, staring up at the golden-haired man who had smiled at me like I was the most precious thing in the world—



I realized something.



I had spent lifetimes running.



From death. From humans. From the never-ending cycle of pain that had followed me across every existence.



But now?



For the first time in all my lives…



I had stopped.​

—ToT—​

None of my past mothers had ever looked at me like this.



Not the birds who left their eggs to the mercy of the wind. Not the foxes who buried their cubs in dens and disappeared. Not the elephants, not the wolves, not the deer or the lions.



I was always born, but never wanted.



Always alive, but never truly belonging.



Mothers birthed me, then turned away, their instincts satisfied. Their duty was done.



So I expected the same.



That they would leave me in some den, some nursery, some corner where I would grow on my own.



But no.



They stayed.



They tended me.



They laughed.



They smiled.



"Look, Kushina, he doesn't cry!" the golden-haired man—my father?—said with a bright, boyish grin.



"He's smart like his mom, dattebane!"



Dattebane?



What was dattebane?



"He only has your hair and eyes, Kushina, but he is his daddy's son. Ne, Naruto?"



They were talking to me.



Not to each other.



To me.



I stared.



I had never been spoken to before.



Not like this.



Then—



Something happened.



The Fall



I was suddenly falling.



Fast.



But—humans couldn't fly.



I flailed. My tiny limbs, my new body, my useless hands—



Then, I was caught.



A firm grip. Strong arms.



Not father's.



A new face. A mask.



Something sharp, cold, pressed to my neck.



A blade.



I had been hunted before.



But never like this.



"Give me the Jinchūriki, Yondaime, or you lose your child."



A shinobi.



Of course.



The Unknown Battle



Things happened too fast.



Too fast for me to understand.



A flash of yellow.



A sharp shift in space.



And suddenly—



I was alone.



A dark, empty room.



My father's voice. "I'll be back, son."



Then, a blur.



And he was.



The Final Moments



My mother was exhausted.



She was weak.



I felt it.



The dark presence that had been inside her—



It was gone.



The cage beside me in the womb had been emptied.



She held me close.



I felt her heartbeat, slowing, struggling, yet strong.



I closed my eyes.



And for the first time in all my lives…



I let myself rest.​

—ToT—​

One moment, I was safe.



Wrapped in warmth, held close, my tiny body pressed against my mother's chest.



The next—



I was alone.



In an open field, surrounded by the flickering glow of candles.



A ritual.



And before me—



A monster.



A titan of fire and fury, fur the color of hellfire, eyes like molten gold, tails swaying like weapons of war.



A beast.



But not just any beast.



A fox.



A fox with nine tails.



Kyuubi.



I didn't know how I knew that name, but I did.



And he was chained.



Golden links of chakra wrapped around his body, binding him in place.



The source of those chains?



Mother.



She was exhausted, but still standing, still fighting, her very body forging the shackles that held the beast in place.



And then—



Father moved.



His hands danced, weaving signs that made the very air tremble.



I froze.



Because I saw him.



The Reaper



I had never feared death.



I had lived a thousand lives.



I had died a thousand times.



Burned. Drowned. Eaten. Torn apart. Crushed.



I had known the embrace of the void more than I had known the warmth of life.



But when the Shinigami appeared, I knew.



I knew who he was.



How? I had no idea.



But I knew.



This was not a natural death.



This was finality incarnate.



This was power beyond the cycle of life and death.



And as I watched, his spectral hand plunged into the fox, tearing something away—



The beast howled, part of its very essence ripped from its soul—



And my father—



The golden-haired man who had smiled at me, who had held me, who had called me his son—



Took that burden into himself.



A mark burned into his flesh.



The first sacrifice.



But not the last.



The End of a Family



My father turned.



More hand signs. More power.



And I watched as the great fox realized what was coming.



"NO! I WILL NOT BE SEALED IN THAT CHILD!"



The fox roared, golden chains snapping under sheer rage—



And its massive claw came crashing down.



Straight at me.



I did not move.



Not because I couldn't—but because I did not fear it.



I had died before.



This would be no different.



But—



They moved.



Both of them.



Mother and Father.



They threw themselves in front of me, shielding my body with their own.



The claw pierced through them.



Blood—



A single drop landed on my forehead.



And then—



Silence.



"Oh, dear," my father sighed. His voice was gentle, as if he were merely accepting a small misfortune. "I guess this is it for us both."



Blood dripped from my mother's lips. But she smiled.



"Naruto," she whispered, "Papa and Mama have to go now. But don't be sad, we'll be watching you."



Something stirred in my chest.



A feeling I didn't understand.



What was this weight in my heart?



This ache in my throat?



"Don't be a rude person," my father said. "Be humble and a good person."



Humble. Good.



"Be loyal to your principles and love your morals."



Loyalty. Morals.



"Never eat too much or too little, bathe daily, eat healthy… and Ramen! Don't waste money and remember the Three Prohibitions of Shinobi. Be wary of women and find a nice girl for yourself, like me, dattebane!"



Dattebane…?



Ramen?



"Respect your elders, have a beautiful dream, and chase after it no matter what others say."



A dream?



"Gain acknowledgement with hard work and prove everyone wrong."



Hard work.



Acknowledgement.



"Help others. Be kind."



Kind.



And then—



"And remember that Papa and Mama will always love you no matter what!"



Love.



The thing I had never known.



The thing I had never felt.



"We love you, Naruto!" they said together.



The words wrapped around me like warmth on a cold night.



And for the first time in thousands of years—



I wanted to live.



Not as a tree.



Not as a beast.



Not as a nameless, wandering soul caught in the cycle of life and death.



But as Naruto Uzumaki.



Their son.



And as the warmth of their lives faded, leaving me alone in the world they had died to protect—



I finally understood.



I was no longer just a soul drifting through endless rebirths.



No longer just a creature of instincts and survival.



I was a human.



And I had something to live for.
​

TBC
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[McPhoenixDavid]

Meaning of Hokage​

---

My parents were dead.

The warmth that had cradled me, the hands that had shielded me, the voices that had spoken to me with love—

Gone.

And in their place, there was only an old man.

He picked me up, holding me carefully, like I was something fragile.

I had never been fragile before.

Not as a tree, its roots deep in the earth.
Not as a fox, swift and cunning.
Not as a dinosaur, strong and unshaken.

But now—

Now, I was small. Weak. Helpless.

He carried me away from the battlefield. Away from the ruined land where my parents' blood stained the earth.

The village came into view. Tall walls. High towers. A place meant to protect.

It felt like a cage.

A Different Kind of Hospital

I was taken to a hospital.

I had been in one before.

As a dog, taken to the vet, whining as the humans poked and prodded me.

As a fox, wounded by hunters, lying on a cold metal table.

As a cheetah, my leg broken in a fight, feeling the sting of antiseptic.

But this was different.

This hospital was… quiet.

Too quiet.

The air smelled like medicine and something too clean to be natural.

I was placed in a crib. The blankets were soft. The room was warm.

But it felt empty.

No mother nearby to watch over me. No pack to curl up against. No herd, no den, no pride, no flock.

Just me.

I stared at the ceiling, eyes heavy, body exhausted.

Eventually—

I fell asleep.



​

—ToT—​

Hunger

I woke up with an unbearable emptiness in my stomach.

It was a familiar sensation.

I had felt it before—

As a fish, struggling in a pond too cold for food to be plentiful.
As a fox, starving through a harsh winter, ribs pressing against my skin.
As a cheetah, running for days without a meal, body withering from exhaustion.

But this—

This hunger was different.

Because this time, I couldn't do anything about it.

I couldn't hunt.
I couldn't forage.
I couldn't move beyond the weak kicks of my tiny legs.

All I could do was cry.

And so, I did.

The door opened.

A woman in white walked in. A nurse.

She carried a tray filled with bottles, their milky contents promising relief.

There were others like me.

Other babies.

Some cried, some slept, some kicked their blankets.

And like a practiced routine, the nurse went to each one, pressing bottles to their tiny mouths, feeding them gently, whispering soft words.

I waited.

She was coming closer.

My tiny hands curled into fists, my stomach twisted.

Feed me. Please.

But—

She walked past me.

I blinked.

I watched as she moved to the next crib, feeding another baby, rocking them in her arms.

Then another.

Then another.

And still—

I was ignored.

Why?

I didn't understand.

Why?

Was I not hungry like the rest?

Was I different?

Had I done something wrong?

I opened my mouth, letting out a wail, demanding attention.

Nothing.

She never even glanced at me.

I cried louder.

She simply left the room.

And I was alone.

With nothing but the sound of my own hunger.

Days passed.

The room that was once filled with cries and quiet breathing became emptier.

One by one, the babies disappeared.

Strangers—men and women—came into the hospital.

Soft whispers. Careful hands. Some smiling, some crying.

I listened.

I watched.

They murmured words I barely understood.

"Orphan."
"Poor child."
"They'll have a better life now."
"They deserve a home."

And just like that—

One by one, the cribs emptied.

I waited.

Surely, someone would come for me too.

Surely, someone would pick me up, hold me close, whisper to me like they did to the others. I was once a sick stray kitten— children showered me with love— that was a cozy life. Surely, someone would come for me.

But—

They never did.

Eventually—

It was only me.

The once full room was now silent.

No more soft coos of nurses.
No more shifting blankets.
No more tiny cries of hunger.

Just me.

And yet—

I was still here.

Still unwanted.

Still not adopted.

The realization was slow, creeping in like the cold breeze that slipped through the window.

No one was coming for me.

I wasn't chosen.

I wasn't wanted.

I was… alone.
​

—ToT—
​

The door creaked open.

For a moment, I thought it was another stranger coming to take me away.

But it wasn't.

It was him.

The old man.

The one who had carried me from that battlefield, from my parents' arms.

He stepped into the empty room, his eyes scanning the rows of abandoned cribs until they landed on me.

A sigh left his lips. Not of annoyance, not of frustration—something softer.

"So they left you alone, huh?" he murmured.

Then, he picked me up.

His arms were warm.

I hadn't been held since that night.

His grip was steady, his hands careful as he cradled me close.

I stared up at him, blinking slowly.

Who was he?

And why—why was he the only one kind to me?

As he carried me out of the hospital, I heard his mutterings.

"Nurse grudges..."
"Child abuse in my village..."
"Unforgivable. Execution will be necessary."

I didn't understand all of it.

But I understood enough.

The nurses hated me.

They had left me to starve on purpose.

They had taken care of the other babies, but not me.

They had let me suffer. On purpose.

I had been abandoned before—left to fend for myself as a tree, a fox, a fish.

But this?

This was different.

Because this time, it wasn't nature's way.

It was cruelty.

I clung to the old man's robes, instinct telling me that he was the only safe thing in this world right now.

He took me somewhere else. A small house.

Not grand. Not cold like the hospital. Just... small.

Warm.

He sat me down and fed me.

Real food. Not from a bottle forced into my mouth, not scraps I had to scavenge for.

I ate.

And as I did, I listened.

People outside whispered, murmuring as they passed.

"Hokage-sama is taking care of him?"
"Why does Hokage-sama even bother?"
"The demon brat should've been left to rot."

Hokage-sama.

They called him that.

Hokage.

I looked up at the old man as he smiled down at me, patience in his eyes, kindness in his touch.

What was a Hokage?

Was it another word for kind old man?

Perhaps.

Yes.

Hokage must mean kind old man.



​

—ToT—​

I was tended to a lot.

Or not at all.

It depended on the life.

As a lone creature, I had no choice but to fend for myself. As a tree, I simply existed, left to grow or wither by the whims of the world. As a fish, a fox, a mammoth, a cheetah—I had learned what it meant to survive alone.

But when I was part of a herd, things were different.

The olders looked after the young. The strong protected the weak. The pride watched over its cubs.

That was nature.

But humans?

Humans were... unpredictable.

Some raised their young with warmth, with care, with laughter. Others abandoned them. Others hurt them for no reason at all.

I had seen both.

And now, I was experiencing it firsthand.

I was left in a small apartment.

Not cold, not warm. Just… there.

A crib in the middle of a room. Blank walls. A single window with a curtain that never quite blocked out the light.

I wasn't alone, though.

Humans with wooden animal masks came and went, appearing and disappearing like ghosts.

ANBU, they called themselves.

They fed me.

They changed me.

They cleaned me.

They made sure I didn't die.

But beyond that?

There was nothing.

No laughter. No smiles. No warm embraces.

They did what was required, and then they left.

It wasn't cruelty.

But it wasn't love either.

It was duty.

They were looking after me because someone told them to, not because they wanted to.

And I understood that.

I had been fed before by creatures that didn't care if I lived or died. A mother bear that fed her cubs but wouldn't hesitate to leave the weakest behind. A lioness that nursed me but only because her instincts told her to, not because she loved me.

This was no different.

But still—

One stood out.

One always lingered longer than the others.

One always looked at me in a way I couldn't quite understand.

Inu.

The ANBU with the silver hair.

The one with one dark eye and one red one.

I didn't know what the red eye meant. I had never seen anything like it in any of my lives. It glowed faintly behind his mask, strange, unnatural.

But that wasn't what caught my attention the most.

It was his gaze.

Even though I couldn't see his full face, I could feel it.

A kind of sadness.

Not pity.

Not disgust.

Just… sorrow.

Why?

I didn't know.

But I knew what sorrow looked like.

I had seen it before.

In a dying elephant's eyes as it lay down for the last time, leaving its herd behind.
In a wolf who lost its mate, howling at the moon in mourning.
In a mother bird watching her fallen chick, unable to do anything.

It was the kind of sadness that settled deep in the bones. The kind that didn't fade.

And Inu?

He carried that sadness every time he looked at me.

I didn't know what to make of it.

But I knew one thing.

Among all the ANBU, among all the strangers who came and went, among all the masked ghosts that tended to me and then vanished—

He was the only one who saw me.



​

—ToT—​

Sometimes, there was the dark presence inside me.

The fox.

The Kyuubi.

The creature sealed inside me by my father, Minato Namikaze.

I didn't know if it was a male or a female—it had no physical traits that told me either way. It was just... there. A massive, seething entity of malice and chakra, caged within the deepest parts of my mind.

And I had a mental space.

That was new.

I had never had something like that before.

Not as an animal, not as a tree, not even as a human in my past lives.

It was like a dream that wasn't a dream. A world within my own head, stretching endlessly in dark, murky passageways.

A sewer.

Cold. Damp. The sound of dripping water echoed through the emptiness, creating an eerie, rhythmic beat. The walls were wet, slick with something I didn't want to name. The air was thick, heavy, carrying the scent of something ancient and angry.

And at the center of it all—

A cage.

Massive.

Bigger than any structure I had ever seen, stretching so high that I couldn't see where it ended.

I had been in cages before.

I had been locked in a zoo, pacing behind metal bars as humans gawked at me.
I had been trapped in a circus, forced to perform tricks for amusement.
I had been shoved into a wooden crate in a pet shop, waiting to be sold.

But this?

This was unlike anything I had ever experienced.

This wasn't just confinement.

This was imprisonment.

A place designed not just to hold—but to keep something away from the world.

And behind those bars...

A creature.

Not just a fox.

A beast.

Nine tails curled behind its hulking body, flicking lazily, yet crackling with power. Red fur bristling with raw energy. Claws like daggers, teeth like spears. Eyes—slitted, glowing with rage.

Kyuubi.

That was its name. The ANBU, the old man, the villagers—they all spoke of it in whispers, in curses, in fear.

The monster that had killed my parents.

The demon that had nearly destroyed the village.

The thing that now lived inside me.

I was just a baby.

I couldn't speak.

I couldn't form words, couldn't ask the things I wanted to.

But I stared.

Every time I was pulled into that sewer, every time my consciousness slipped into that space, I sat before the massive cage and watched the beast within.

And it hated me.

It lunged.

It snarled.

It roared, slamming its claws against the bars, trying to rip through, trying to reach me.

Its malice was suffocating, filling every inch of my mind.

It wanted me dead.

But I didn't flinch.

I didn't cry.

I wasn't afraid.

I was merely... curious.

Because this creature. This thing.

It had killed my parents.

Why?

I wanted to ask.

I wanted to know.

Had it chosen to do so? Had it wanted to?

Or had it simply been like me?

A tool. A weapon. A being forced into something it had no control over.

Because I had seen it before.

The way humans used others.

They had used me, time and time again.

As a horse, forced to carry loads until I collapsed.
As a cheetah, hunted for sport.
As a mammoth, killed for my tusks.
As a bird, wiped from the sky by powers far greater than me.

Was this fox the same?

Was it just another creature trapped by human hands, forced into a battle it never chose?

I didn't know.

And for now—

It didn't matter.

Because no matter how much I watched it, no matter how many times I was pulled into this mental space, the Kyuubi never stopped trying to kill me.

And I just kept staring back.

Sometimes, random people would sneak into my apartment.

Sometimes it was a drunkard, stumbling in the dark, his breath reeking of alcohol and hatred.
Sometimes it was a shinobi, moving with silent precision, his blade already drawn before he even reached me.
Sometimes it was a civilian, their face twisted with grief, rage, and something even worse—desperation.

They all had different faces, different voices, different reasons.

But their goal was always the same.

They came to kill me.

I was barely more than a toddler, still learning to walk without stumbling, still figuring out how to use my hands for more than just grabbing.

And yet—

They came with knives.

With kunai.

With weapons meant to take my life.

And they always yelled.

Screamed about things I didn't understand but was starting to comprehend.

"You took my son from me!"

"Demon brat!"

"Because of you, my wife is gone! My daughter is gone! My clan is gone!"

It was the fox.

That's what they all said.

They didn't see me. Not really.

They saw it.

The Kyuubi. The monster that tore through their lives, that ripped apart families, that left them with nothing but a gaping, bleeding void.

And I—I housed it.

How?

I didn't know.

I was so small, barely the size of a housecat.

How could something as massive as the Kyuubi fit inside me?

It didn't make sense.

But then again, nothing in this world did.

The first time it happened, I didn't understand.

I was in my crib, drowsy, the room dimly lit by the moon shining through the window. I heard the door creak open.

Soft footsteps.

A shadow loomed over me.

A whisper.

"I'll end this now."

Then—

A flash of silver.

The cold glint of a kunai, raised high, poised to strike.

But before the blade could come down—

They arrived.

ANBU.

The masked watchers who had been in my life from the very start.

They moved so fast that I barely even registered what had happened.

One moment, the man was standing over me.

The next—

Blood splattered across the walls.

His body collapsed in a heap beside my crib, his empty, unseeing eyes still locked onto me.

Dead.

I stared.

Not crying. Not flinching. Not reacting at all.

Because... this was not new.

I had seen death before.

I had died before.

So I simply sat there, gazing at the man who had tried to end me, wondering why.

But ANBU didn't wonder.

They acted.

"Failure." One of them muttered.

Then they removed the body. Cleaned the blood. Left no trace.

Like it never happened.

But it did.

And it kept happening.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Sometimes it was a single attacker.
Sometimes it was two or three.
One time, an entire group stormed in, thinking numbers would make a difference.

It didn't.

The ANBU always came.

And they always killed.

And I...

I always watched.

I sat in my crib, or on the cold wooden floor, staring as my would-be killers fell before me.

Their eyes always locked onto me, wide and filled with something bitter and ugly as their lives bled out onto the floor.

And still—I never flinched.

I just... observed.

The way the blood pooled beneath them.
The way their bodies twitched before going still.
The way their final breath always shuddered out of them like a dying wind.

It wasn't fear that kept me still.

It was something else.

Understanding.

Because these people weren't killers.

Not truly.

They weren't like the shinobi who had hunted me as a cheetah, who had skinned me and taken my fur for their trophies.
They weren't like the man with red eyes and black hair who had tested his power on me when I was a dinosaur.
They weren't even like the shinobi who had killed me as a mammoth for my tusks, greed gleaming in their eyes.

No.

These people were something different.

They were... broken.

Grieving.

Lost.

Their hatred was not born from greed, or sport, or hunger.

It was born from pain.

They had lost something.

Someone.

And they saw me as the reason for that loss.

They thought that if they killed me, the wound in their heart would finally close. That the gaping emptiness inside them would finally be filled.

But it wouldn't.

I knew that.

I had been them before.

I had been the mother mammoth who watched her calf be speared to death.
I had been the dog who lost his owner and lashed out in blind rage.
I had been the seagull who saw an entire island burned to nothing, who screamed into the sky as my world collapsed.

I knew what grief was.

I knew what loss was.

And I knew—this would never end.

Not as long as I carried the fox inside me.

Not as long as people looked at me and saw it instead.

So I stared.

And the ANBU killed.

And the bodies were taken away.

And the cycle continued.​

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TBC​

 

[trashtaker]

I hope he actually doesn't take a side amongst the shinobi.

Make him like an actual sage in everything.

 

[McPhoenixDavid]

I hope he actually doesn't take a side amongst the shinobi.

Make him like an actual sage in everything.

Click to shrink...

He doesn't take a side.

 

[trashtaker]

He doesn't take a side.

Click to shrink...

Like take a side amongst the village.

Like cause his parents are from konoha. He would be with Konoha