[Mad Tiger] Chapter 69-71

TN: Formatting’s fucked. For some reason, Patreon bolds everything and removes italics. There’s a PDF attached below if you prefer that.

Chapter 69

I was tearing through the Forest of Death like a bat outta hell, spooking the local wildlife left and right. Sorry, critters—urgent business! Gaara’s floating eyeball trailed after me, doing its best to keep up. Cool jutsu, sure—great for the desert, where you can see everything to the horizon, or inside tight spaces. But in a place like this? Not ideal. There’s a tree every two feet, giant spiders hiding in ambush, and every bush and beast is screaming on chakra sensors. You don’t just need eyes here—you need a nose, a tail, and divine luck.

I caught scent of a few chakra signatures coming in hot and bolted into the underbrush. A squad of ANBU zipped past, masks and all, moving like silent ghosts. Uh-huh. Good thing my scent markers are cat-grade permanent. I always know my way around. So me and the eyeball took a detour around what I guessed was a recon team.

I had this gnawing feeling it was all because of Sarutobi. The preliminary matches were supposed to start soon, and according to the anime, the Hokage himself was supposed to show up at the tower for a speech and to cheer on the genin. Big morale boost, right? Fighting with the Third Hokage watching? Talk about pressure.

But he hadn’t shown up.

And considering we’ve also got Kushina-san and Orochimaru sneaking around the Forest of Death doing who-knows-what, well, let’s just say my inner math nerd was sketching a very suspicious equation.

When I finally reached the area that reeked of Kushina’s chakra and had leftover chakra residue hanging in the air like fog, I found… a perfectly empty clearing. No signs of a fight. No scorched trees, no craters, not even trampled grass—though to be fair, the moss in the Forest of Death is weirdly “magical,” always healing itself and slowly absorbing chakra. A literal leech carpet. Ugh.

So I had to pull out my best bloodhound impression and put to use everything Kuramaru and Akamaru ever tried to teach me. The trick is to visualize each scent trail as the person or animal that left it. Kuramaru was a beast at this. He could tell what color boots someone wore based on how the leather smelled—treated differently depending on if it was tanned hide, canvas, or that weird ninja rubber. Once you’ve got your mental picture, you “rewind” the trail in your mind. Figure out where they stopped, what they did. If they marked territory or… well, took a nature break, that helps too.

The clearing was a mess of overlapping trails, but I relaxed, sniffed, and started piecing it together like the good little algebra cat I am. Gaara’s eyeball hovered next to me, also scanning the place.

I circled three times, trying to make sense of it all… and got nothing. The trails made no sense. ANBU going in circles, scattered formations. All of them freaked out.

From what I could tell, our wrinkly cherub of a Hokage had been just strolling through the woods. Laid-back pace. Ahead of him were guards sweeping the path, clearing critters and plants. Two escorts close by, and ANBU all over the trees like spooky fruit.

And then? Poof. He just… vanished. No scorch marks, no teleportation flash. Not even a broken twig. Like he got erased from reality.

They’d clearly searched this area from top to bottom and found squat. I wondered how it happened. Did he glow and fade out? Did he dissolve into sparkles? Was it a "pull-the-tablecloth" trick and nobody noticed Granny with the saw under the table? And now I’m picturing Kushina-san in a Vegas magician outfit—sparkly bikini, feather boa, sawing the Hokage in half… Okay, focus, Tora! You're spiraling.

Whatever it was, it felt like a high-level space-time jutsu. But there were no clues left—no telling who did it or where they went. The ANBU must’ve figured he could’ve been warped out against his will, maybe even not far, so they were combing the area like mad. I could still smell Kushina, but her trail came after the others. Like she showed up late to the party. Maybe she’s the one who lost track of him?

What if she and Orochimaru were lying in wait with some classic cartoon ambush—cut down a sapling, set it to spring, jump out yelling “Your wallet or your life!”—okay, wow. I really am losing it.

Focus, Tora.

Kushina did something here. Her chakra is all over the place.

Gaara’s eyeball floated over, giving me a hard look. I shook my head. If I had shoulders, I’d shrug. What’d we expect? That a couple of ninjas who could each be Kage-level would leave behind an obvious footprint? Please. Hiruzen might be a dried-up raisin, but he’s sharp. The kind of guy you try to bite and break your teeth on.

I just hope Kushina-san’s okay. In the anime, she wasn’t even around—but if this is the timeline where she’s back, then we really need her. Orochimaru? Man, that guy fought three Kage—including two zombies—and still lost both his arms. I used to kinda cheer when he got wrecked. Now he’s on our side? No thanks, let’s keep his limbs intact.

Suddenly, a low rumble echoed from the direction of the tower. Trees trembled, birds exploded into the air, and my fur puffed up like I’d licked an outlet.

Gaara’s sand eye crumbled into dust and scattered on the breeze.

Uh-oh.

Either he lost focus, chakra ran out, or something bad just happened.

I gotta get back to the tower. Now.

I… I’m gonna lose weight from the stress. I swear, I just dropped two pounds in sheer panic.

WHAT. THE. HELL. HAPPENED HERE?!

I leave for one hour and this place goes full disaster movie. The walls—how?! They’re thick enough to stop a bijuu blast! And now there’s… slime?? Everywhere?! Did we get invaded by aliens?!

And that massive hole—oh god. That hole’s exactly where I came out earlier.

“Naruto! Sasuke! Gaara!”

Nothing but rocks and slime. No scents. Their scents were gone.

Someone scooped me up and hugged me tight. That’s when I realized I was shaking. Ino.

“Shhh… Tora-chan,” she whispered, her voice cracking with sobs. I turned and saw Sakura too, all dusty and smeared with pale-gray grime, eyes puffy and red from crying.

“What happened?!” I tried to wriggle free. I had to find my boys.

“Tora-chan, they’re gone,” Ino whispered into my fur, breaking into tears again.

“Gone?!” The dust and gunk in the air made it impossible to smell anything. My heart dropped like a rock, but… I still hoped. Maybe this was all part of some plan…

“Some kind of huge snakes attacked the tower,” Sakura sniffled. “I overheard someone say it happened because the structure’s perimeter was breached. The worst hit was this room. One of the chunin said someone forced open the wall vent. They couldn’t find the boys under the wreckage. Most likely, they… they…”

“Got swallowed by the snake,” Ino finished for her.

“But they’re shinobi,” she added quickly. “Sasuke and Naruto are strong. They’ll survive… for a while. The exam proctors drove the snake off, and they’re rebuilding the barrier now. They’ll go after it.”

Right. Of course. Just part of the plan. Everything’s fine. In the anime, Naruto got swallowed by a snake too—Orochimaru’s snake. This is just a rerun with a twist.

Now I just need to cheer up the girls.

“I’m sorry, Ino. Sakura…”

I was staring blankly at what looked like a tiny, pale-blue Naruto being carried by Kakashi. Two more shinobi followed behind, carrying… bodies.

Sasuke and Gaara’s.

Dead bodies.

Naruto looked especially awful—blue-lipped, clothes soaked in slime, his jacket covered in my pawprint designs, all twisted and torn like he’d been chewed on and spit out.

“We got to the snake’s stomach too late,” a man in green muttered quietly. I recognized him—Might Guy, the Brow Sensei. He was holding Sasuke.

“The digestive acid was extremely toxic,” he added grimly.

Then Sand ninja came running over.

“Gaara!” Temari gasped.

Gaara looked especially creepy—his cracked, dried sand coating made him look like a broken doll.

“Oh god, what is that?!” one of the chunin shouted, as Gaara’s body began to crumble, sand shedding like ash.

“Here too!” Guy said, setting Sasuke gently down.

“What’s going on?” the man with the curtain-mask came over and reached for Gaara, only to recoil—his hand had sunk into soft, collapsing mush, and the stench of decay hit like a sledgehammer.

“It’s the snake’s stomach acid. It’s corrosive,” Kakashi said flatly, laying Naruto down. “Damn it. There won’t be much left to bury if this keeps up… We need containment. Tenzo!”

An ANBU stepped forward, forming seals, and wood sprang from his fingers—three small coffins made of dark, polished bark that gently wrapped around the deteriorating bodies. Even names appeared on top. I didn’t want to read them.

No one spoke.

The girls sobbed quietly. I was frozen, clinging to Ino with claws buried in her coat. Her salty tears kept dripping onto my nose.

“I’m taking Gaara,” the masked man said, pulling out a scroll. In silence, he sealed one of the wooden coffins.

“Due to these unforeseen circumstances,” coughed someone behind the crowd, “the Chuunin Exams are canceled. We’ll investigate the death of the genin thoroughly. Everyone is to return to Konoha under ANBU escort. Security measures will be enforced.”

Ino never let go of me. She cried the whole way back.

The guys walked beside us in silence, heads down. Choji sniffled now and then. Akamaru whimpered softly.

But… they don’t really believe it, right? That my boys are really…

This isn’t real, right?

This has to be part of the plan.

Right?

Right?!

Chapter 70

“How are you holding up, Tora-chan?” Hinata scratched behind my ear and curled up beside me on the bed like a sleepy cinnamon roll wrapped around a depressed furball.

“Not great,” I sighed. It came out soft and pitiful. I was really falling apart.
Why couldn’t I have just stayed put in that damned forest? Things might’ve turned out so differently.

“Are you hungry?” Hinata asked. “I bought your favorite canned food.”

I shook my head. Lately, I didn’t even want to look at food. It had been four weeks since that thing in the Forest of Death. Four. Weeks. At first, I’d been hopeful—maybe even expected them to pop back up somehow—but the last three days? Full-blown despair. 

I still couldn’t believe it actually happened. They smelled like themselves, sure, but that’s because they were wearing the same clothes. Clothes can be swapped. 

And the snakes? Definitely summons from Orochimaru. But what threw me off was that the jounin had killed the snakes, cut them open, and retrieved the bodies.

 I’d seen giant snakes in the Forest before—maybe not that big, but definitely giant. And the way the bodies were quickly sealed away and disposed of? Super shady. Felt like someone didn’t want them examined.

And I always thought when a jinchuuriki died, the bijuu was released. But no—turns out if the host dies fast and unexpectedly, the tailed beast dies with them and only reappears years later like some kind of natural disaster respawn timer.

You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve overheard… My hidey-holes in the Hokage Residence came in real handy.

For two weeks, Konoha was in a complete panic. Everything was being managed by the two Elders—Gramps and Granny—trying to calm things down and keep the politics from exploding. Envoys from the Sand were darting around like caffeinated weasels. 

But in the end, every investigation hit a wall. Official word was that it was “an unfortunate accident.” 

Konoha gave the Sand some dusty old scroll as a formal apology for Gaara.

Apparently the Elders didn’t really care. They muttered that the Fourth Kazekage had wanted to get rid of the “village weapon” he couldn’t control and was probably relieved it happened.

But when it came to Naruto—the jinchuuriki of the Nine-Tails—and Sasuke—the Last Uchiha—you bet they were singing a different tune. There’d been plans for those two.

Kakashi’s official guess? The boys (plus Kazekage Jr., who no one knew why he was even in that room) got knocked out cold by debris when the wall collapsed from the snake attack. Swallowed unconscious. Never had a chance to fight or escape. Digestion did the rest.

The Third Hokage? Still missing. Not dead. Missing. No clues, no witnesses, no trail. 

Because the exams had so many foreign guests, and someone might spill the news that the Hokage was MIA, they started the process of picking a new one fast.

They named Jiraiya the Fifth, but he declined and said he’d bring back someone “better.”

Honestly, I’d been praying that meant Kushina-san, but nope. Five days ago, Tsunade returned to Konoha. Yesterday, she had her inauguration.

I snuck in to say hi and had a chat with Tonton, but the pig didn’t have much intel. Just babbled about all their sketchy tavern-hopping lately and how Lady Senju kept gambling away their savings and ditching towns before the debts hit. He didn’t even know why they left Konoha in the first place.

The more time passed, the worse my panic got. What if my boys and Kushina-san really were…?

“Hinata! Tora-chan!”

A knock. Neji poked his head into the room, looking way more ruffled than usual.

“Nii-san? What’s going on?” Hinata sat up fast.

“Orders from the Fifth Hokage! I’ve been assigned to lead a mission.”

“To us?” Hinata blinked. I did too.

“Yes. Me, you, Shikamaru, Ino, Choji, Kiba. Our mission is to locate and escort Lady Shijimi’s cat, Tora-san, to the daimyo’s palace in Himachi.”

“…What?” Hinata and I said in unison.

But right in that second—my heart started to pound with hope again!

The mission got classified as C-rank, but we didn’t leave Konoha as just six genin, a dog, and a cat—oh no. We had a babysitter: one ANBU tailing us in secret. And I knew exactly who it was under that mask—Hatake Kakashi himself. 

No one escapes my scent tracking.

It wasn’t a super far mission—Himachi’s just about 100 kilometers out, still within the Fire Country—but still. You don’t just send all the heirs to the major clans out on a stroll without backup.

Neji let it slip when we met up with Sakura: the escort job was just a cover. 

Apparently, the daimyo wanted to “evaluate” potential clan heads. Rumor had it the Fire Lord was looking to expand his elite personal guard—the Twelve Guardian Ninja—and might offer some of us a contract.

Everyone exchanged glances but didn’t say much.

They looked just like me—scared to hope, but still hoping anyway.

Back when we gathered at Sasuke’s apartment, Shikamaru had tried comforting Ino and Hinata. He even said, “This whole thing smells way too convenient. They shut it down too fast, like they were afraid of starting a war or scandal.” 

One of his strongest arguments? Me.

They believed in me a little too much. Maybe because I never gave up waiting.

Maybe they were just like me—clinging to any scrap of a chance.

Patience is the first lesson of a true shinobi.

So yeah, I waited. I waited three and a half weeks, holding on to that little flicker of “maybe.”

They took turns carrying me, though sometimes I jogged alongside Akamaru for a bit. By sunset, we reached the daimyo’s palace.

Neji flashed the mission scroll and showed them Yours Truly. A random court official met us at the gate and led us in.

“Tora-chan!!” 

Lady Shijimi came flying into the hallway like a cruise missile of motherly affection.

“My owner!” I launched into her arms like a majestic, furry cannonball—almost knocked Kiba flat.

I almost cried. I definitely purred like a chainsaw. She scratched, she cuddled, she kissed my nose—pure bliss. 

But most importantly?
She smelled like Naruto.
Like Sasuke.
Like Gaara.
And Kushina.

Alive.

Okay. Now I’m hungry.

“You’ve gotten so skinny!” she cooed, like she’d read my mind. “My poor baby, my precious tiger-kitty! Tora-chan! I’ve got chicken! Tofu! And smoked eel, just for you!”

Neji was mostly right about the Twelve Guardian Ninja thing.

After I stuffed myself like a Thanksgiving turkey, and everyone else got a solid meal too, we were brought before the daimyo himself.

I did my usual palace routine: climbed into his lap, made myself at home, and wiped my fur all over his royal robes while he chatted with Neji, Shikamaru, and the others.

Turns out they were recruiting three new guardians, ages matching our own.

It’s a real contract—service from three to ten years. He promised to send Hokage-sama a formal invitation letter.

“And in the meantime,” said Lord Minoruhi with a kind smile, “I thought you might enjoy meeting a few of the younger guardian shinobi already in service. See how it all works.”

Naturally, I followed them—straight to the palace’s old gazebo I remembered from when I was just a kitten. This was the same spot I once pounced onto Daishiki’s face… Ah, good times. Feels like a hundred years ago, not just a little over two.

“These are some of our youngest Guardian Shinobi,” the attending official introduced three masked figures who stepped into the gazebo. Their masks were similar to Kakashi’s, they wore Leaf headbands, standard uniforms, and white triangular hip sashes marked with the Fire Country symbol. “I’ll leave you to it—they’ll show you around and answer any questions.”

The official bowed out, leaving us alone.

Akamaru gave a bark at Kiba. Ino and Hinata squealed. 

And then… Naruto, Sasuke, and Gaara pulled off their masks.

“Guys! Tora-chan!”

The girls launched themselves into hugs. The guys kept it cool, of course.

Me? I’m a cat. I get a pass for going full emotional meltdown mode.

I missed them so much. I’d been waiting! I hadn’t slept right in weeks, eavesdropping under doors, pacing, worrying, barely eating… You monsters!

“Sorry, Tora-chan!” Naruto scratched me behind the ears, peering into my eyes. “Everything just started happening so fast.”

“All right, spill it,” Kiba demanded.

Akamaru barked in agreement. I nodded, and Naruto quickly flashed through a string of hand signs. Green sealing marks crawled over the gazebo walls.

“It’s a soundproof barrier,” he explained, as the group let out a collective “whoa.”

Neji activated his Byakugan, gave the perimeter a once-over, and nodded.

“Not bad at all, Naruto.”

“It all started on the autumn equinox festival, back in September…” Sasuke began.

And then Sasuke laid it all out—the truth about his clan’s massacre and the mass genjutsu that both Akamaru and I had already confirmed.

“We—me, Naruto, Kiba, Shikamaru, and Choji—were best friends since our first year at the Academy. But everyone forgot.”

“Asuma-sensei was part of it?!” Shikamaru blurted out, stunned. “I mean… I remember the whole ‘Guardian Shinobi Rebellion’ thing in September, and it was weird my dad didn’t send a team to investigate. That was kind of off.”

“Asuma, like everyone else, forgot,” Sasuke said. “No one really knew. Everyone got caught in it. The Sarutobi used the Uchiha clan’s ambition, manipulated them… and then erased them. And the evidence. Right now, only three people know the truth. And none of them want to change anything. The world keeps spinning, and this kind of genjutsu? A simple ‘kai’ won’t break it.”

He caught Ino’s intense look and added, “From what I understand, trying to interfere using Yamanaka-style mental techniques could actually end very badly. So—what’s done is done. We’re focused on the now.”

“What happened in the Forest of Death, then?” Neji asked.

“We faked our deaths,” Sasuke said after a pause. “Left behind our clothes and personal items. It was our way of shedding the past and starting over.” 

He glanced down. “There are still some things we can’t talk about…”

“What matters is that you’re alive,” Hinata whispered, her cheeks going pink. “We thought you were…”

“Yeah. We’re alive,” Naruto grinned, hugging me tight.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you give a cat a heart attack and then make it all better with cuddles.

Chapter 71

I was sitting proudly on Lord Minoruhi’s desk, ears perked, soaking in a very private conversation between my human—currently fanning himself like a bored noble—and an older man in a blindingly colorful kimono collection who’d shown up with Orochimaru. This old guy wasn’t just some random senior citizen with a fashion problem—he was the ruler of the Land of Rice Fields, the country just north of the Land of Fire. The valley river called “The End,” where Sasuke and Naruto famously had their dramatic anime deathmatch, just so happened to be the border.

“The Land of Rice Fields is prepared to become a province under the Fire Country,” the old man confirmed with a sly grin. “Honestly, not much changes for us—if anything, our rice export tax will go down. Plus, we’ve already got a standing garrison managed by Orochimaru-dono.”

“A mutually beneficial arrangement, no doubt,” said Minoruhi. “I take it you’d like to stay on as provincial governor? And I’d need to formally recognize… let’s say… the Oto garrison, which Konoha’s intel believes is, let’s be real, a newly forming hidden village.”

“I’ve no heirs to worry about,” the old guy creaked. Though to me, he didn’t feel that old. His chakra flow was strong—definitely not shinobi-tier, but robust enough to suggest he was spry beneath all the grandpa cosplay.

“It’s smarter to ally than to clash. The times are… turbulent,” Orochimaru added with his signature silk-and-snake charm.

Now, if Gaara and Shisui weren’t chilling up in the rafters and if my human wasn’t wearing enough defensive fuinjutsu to light up a bingo book, I might’ve mistaken this for a veiled threat. But as it stood? Just ominous suggestion. The political scene really was heating up lately. The Land of Hot Springs, for example, had recently disbanded their hidden village, turned themselves into a “neutral tourist hub,” and stopped trying to keep up military spending. Tiny nations just couldn’t afford real garrisons—and let’s face it, a couple squads of low-level ninja weren’t stopping any of the Big Five or rogue super-nukes.

But call it a “provincial garrison” under a major country? Boom. Legit. Plus, those garrisons could send their recruits to Konoha’s Academy for training upgrades from proper jonin-sensei.

…Man, when did I start getting good at politics?

“I’ll give provisional approval,” Minoruhi nodded. “But it’ll still need to pass through the jonin council. My staff will draft a formal treaty.”

The future governor of Konoha’s 12th province took his leave. Orochimaru slithered off with him. Minoruhi set aside his fan, sighed, and scratched me behind the ears.

“I hope that was the right call, Tora-chan…”

I gave a sage nod and hopped into his lap with a purr. Optimal petting position achieved.

“…This wing’s got a couple of baths, that’s the dining hall—and sometimes doubles as a meeting and training room—and those three rooms at the back are free,” Naruto explained, proudly giving the newcomers a tour of the Guardian Shinobi residence.

Shikamaru, Choji, and Neji had accepted Lord Minoruhi’s invitation. I personally ran back to Konoha to fetch them—had to stay in the loop, after all.

Kiba had been invited too, but his mom Tsume-chan put her foot down. Said they needed to stay with the pups. Both he and Akamaru promised they’d train night and day until the gang was back in the Leaf. Respect.

“I’m so glad you guys are here now!” Naruto beamed wide enough to split his face. “Seriously, it’s awesome. So many new jutsu to learn! Kushina-sensei said jonin from your clans will be invited here from time to time, so you’ll still get top-tier training. And we’re learning etiquette, diplomatic stuff, advanced strategies—it’s not like Iruka-sensei’s endless droning back in the Academy. Plus, we’ve already been sent on a few missions with Kuroumi and Akai.” (That’d be Sasuke and Gaara’s new code names, respectively. Naruto went by “Kin” now.)

“Guardian Shinobi training’s been around forever,” Neji noted. “An elder from my clan trained under the daimyo too—learned not just combat, but economics, politics, and leadership. But the tradition stopped generations ago… I don’t even know why.”

Almost two months had passed since I came back to the palace.

Kushina-san was now officially the mentor for Naruto, Gaara, and Karin—the girl from the Grass Country. Karin hadn’t joined the Guardian Shinobi, but she was studying under the palace’s medical-nin and learning fuinjutsu from Kushina. We’d become friends—she’s a good kid. Orphaned. Her mom died after a long illness, and Karin had been going on missions with adults since she was like, nine. She had some rare chakra-based healing technique that kicked in when she was in pain. The absolute psychos from her village used to bite her to suck out her chakra for healing. I saw her once in the bath—poor girl’s body was covered in old bite scars.

But apparently, once she learns to fully control her chakra, she might be able to heal all of it.

Kushina still hadn’t worked up the courage to tell Naruto she’s his mom. Ninja brain-melt. “Who am I now?” “How can I just drop that on him?” “Things are stable right now—I don’t want to ruin it.” I try to talk her into it daily. Sometimes I just whack her with a paw until she promises she’ll tell him soon.

At least she talks to me about everything.

Turns out they handed Uchiha Obito—the same one who used to help Minato—over to Orochimaru to win him over. But Kushina had sealed him up in some clever way to keep him from acting out.

The sannin might’ve gained a Sharingan and the ability to finally live out all his creepy science-fantasy dreams, but he was now firmly on our side—because the key to unsealing Obito was in Kushina’s hands. Classic hostage insurance. She said Orochimaru still had a grudge against Konoha, and as a former Hokage, she couldn’t let anything happen to the village.

And from a few things she let slip, I pieced together that old man Hiruzen… yeah. Pretty sure he ended up on Orochimaru’s dissection table. Creepy snake bastard probably got real hands-on.

Shisui was still working as a Guardian Shinobi, now going by “Sho.” Itachi, meanwhile, had way bigger fish to fry. He was infiltrating the Akatsuki. But when they captured Obito, he also learned something huge—on the night the Uchiha clan “died,” most of the women and kids weren’t killed. Obito had sealed them away somehow. He wiped their memories and later dropped them off on an isolated island way down south. So yeah, the Uchiha bloodline survived.

Maybe Obito had plans to rebuild the clan… who knows? But Shisui told me that soon, we might see a “Great Uchiha Migration.” Or maybe not. That’s their business. Maybe they’ll even strike a deal with Nekomata-sama—after all, Sharingan’s a valuable asset, and right now they’ve got zero protection. No one knows they exist—not even Kushina. That info? Straight from Shisui.

I’m that kind of cat who knows way too many secrets, yep. And yet I still nearly die of curiosity on the regular. That saying about curiosity killing the cat? Totally checks out. But let’s be honest—life’s a lot more fun and exciting this way.

“Kushina-sensei, you wanted to see me?” Naruto rubbed the back of his head, looking sheepish. “The crew from Konoha just showed up, so I was giving them a tour and, uh… then we kinda lost track of time chatting…”

“Oh! Tora-chan? You’re here too?”

I gave a dignified nod and stared straight at Kushina-san.

Do it already, oh mighty Bloody Habanero. Just tell him!

“Naruto…” Kushina wrung her hands and stepped up until she was nearly nose-to-nose with her son. “I’m… your mom.”

“…What?” Naruto blinked at her, completely stunned.

I slapped a paw to my face. Seriously? That’s how you drop the bomb? Like a straight-up military briefing?

And the best part? Both of them—both Uzumakis—turned and looked at me, like I was supposed to help them navigate this disaster. Typical. Can’t do anything around here without the cat.

“It’s true?” Naruto said quickly, then turned to her. “Come on, tell me properly!”

Kushina coughed awkwardly. “Shisui and I… didn’t tell you and Sasuke everything,” she began. “A year ago, when it all happened… I was the Nine-Tails’ jinchuriki. And I was also the Fifth Hokage. I hadn’t held the title long—just long enough to have the Third removed.”

“Shikamaru told us our intel was incomplete,” Naruto said, suddenly serious. “No one really knows why the Sarutobi clan made that move. If the Uchiha were being used, then maybe it wasn’t them running the village after all. We figured it might be the Senju pulling the strings—that their clan survived somehow. But… it was you. You, Uzumaki Kushina.”

“They used to call me ‘Red Hot Blooded Habanero,’” she muttered. “The Nine-Tails’ jinchuriki. They wanted to get rid of me and create a new jinchuriki—using my son. Normally, when you rip a Tailed Beast out of someone, they die. But I survived. Thanks to Tora-san… and Shisui. I couldn’t tell you earlier. Too much unrest. A jinchuriki has to learn to stabilize the Tailed Beast’s chakra. Besides… I wasn’t sure I’d survive. I didn’t want to give my son hope, only to hurt him again by dying a second time.”

“I—what?” Naruto’s voice broke as he threw his arms around her. “Don’t say that… Mom… You’re my mom. You’re alive. Really alive. I always looked at you with Gaara and Karin and thought… I was jealous, y’know? It felt like you were their mom. So kind and caring and… you really used to be called Bloody Habanero?” he added with a teary chuckle.

“Try cussing in front of her and you’ll find out why,” I muttered, my throat dry. For real though, what were they waiting for? Look at him now, waterworks in full swing—and Kushina too! Great. Now am I supposed to cry with them?

“Mama,” my little Chickpea finally pulled back. “Can you… can you adopt Gaara too? He’s a good guy. He’s like a brother to me. And maybe Karin too? She’s not that annoying. And she’s Uzumaki, right?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Kushina laughed softly, hugging him tight again. “You have such a big heart… just like your father.”

“…Who was he?” Naruto asked, quietly.

“Minato Namikaze. The Fourth Hokage. He died protecting the Land of Fire when you were still a baby.”

I padded a few slow circles on Gaara’s still-skinny chest before curling up. Just listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. No sand cocoon this time—just a bed. A real one. He still had nightmares sometimes. That’s why I usually slept with him.

And you know what? I finally get that weird little house-elf from those old cartoons(1) I used to watch before—the one who said “happiness is when everyone’s home.(2)”

It’s true.

The shinobi world isn’t exactly peaceful or safe or, y’know, not a hot mess—but it teaches you to appreciate the little moments. The quiet ones. The precious ones.

And if something bad does happen again… well, they’ve got me.

And I’m awesome.

— THE END —

TN: That’s it—that’s the end of the story. Thank you all for reading! And special thanks again to Кицунэ Миято for the story and for the permission to translate it.

(1) The proper translation would be: “Now I perfectly understand the brownie Kuzya(2) from the cartoons of my childhood, who said that happiness is when everyone’s home”.

(2) The quote is from "Domovenok Kuzya" (Brownie Kuzya). A four-part series of Soviet puppet animated films about a brownie (house-elf) named Kuzya, based on the fairy tales of Tatyana Aleksandrova and scripts by Marina Vishnevetskaya and Valentin Berestov