Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Morning arrived bright and beautiful in the city of Konoha. Golden light spilled through windows and over manicured hedges, birdsong ringing cheerfully through the air as carriages rolled along the streets and households across the ton prepared for the day ahead. It was the beginning of the spring marriage season. Across the city, families stirred in excitement, mothers issuing instructions, daughters dressed in pale silks, and fathers retreating behind newspapers and indifference. 

Then there was the Uzumaki household. If the rest of society moved like a well-rehearsed orchestra, the Uzumaki manor was a battlefield. Servants rushed from room to room, skirts swishing and arms full. Doors opened and closed, somewhere upstairs, footsteps pounded down the corridor, followed by laughter and a hissed reprimand.

In the main sitting room, Kakashi Uzumaki paced. He had been pacing for some time now. Back and forth he went, hands clasped behind his back, boots striking the polished floor in irritation. His eyes flicked to the clock on the mantel for what felt like the hundredth time. Across the room, Yamato lounged far more comfortably on the edge of a chair. He watched Kakashi’s agitation with thinly veiled amusement.

Nearby, Viscount Jiraiya Uzumaki, master of the house and father to the lot of them, stood speaking patiently with a flustered servant. He was entirely unbothered by the noise around him, as this morning was truly no different from any other. 

Finally, Kakashi stopped pacing. “Has anyone heard from Naruto at all this morning?” he demanded. “Is she even awake?” 

Today, Naruto Uzumaki would make her grand debut into society, and with half the ton already wary of her reputation, today needed to be flawless. 

Yamato tilted his head, thoughtful for all of half a second. “This is Naruto we are talking about, dear brother,” he said lightly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she skipped town altogether.” 

Kakashi shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Don’t joke about such things,” he hissed. “You know how important today is.” 

Yamato laughed anyway, entirely unapologetic. From the staircase came a scoff. Obito, who had been sitting on the steps with his arms crossed and his patience thinning by the minute, stood and stretched.

“Honestly, you two,” he muttered. “It’s a wonder you get anything done at all.” 

“Where are you going?” 

Obito jerked his head toward the stairs. “To get Naruto.”

“She’s almost ready!” 

The voice came bright and breathless from above. Menma appeared first, bounding down the stairs, his face flushed with excitement. Behind him followed Sakumo, calmer but smiling all the same, his hands tucked neatly behind his back. Menma beamed at the room as though he carried the greatest secret in the world. Kakashi opened his mouth to protest, but Menma beat him to it. 

“I saw her,” he added proudly. “Just for a moment.” 

Sakumo shook his head fondly. “He insisted on helping,” he explained. “ He wouldn’t leave her door until he was let in.”

Menma puffed out his chest. At only eight years old, he took his role as Naruto’s shadow very seriously. He adored his sister with the wholehearted devotion of a child who had never once doubted her greatness. 

“How much longer does a woman need to get ready?” Kakashi groaned, dragging a hand down his face. The words had barely left his mouth when Jiraiya gave him a manly slap on the shoulder. 

“My son,” Jiraiya said, laughing, “never question how long a woman needs to get ready. I thought I had taught you better than that.” 

“Father...” Kakashi stiffened. Jiraiya stepped forward to join his sons, eyes warm as they drifted toward the staircase, waiting. “We are going to be late at this rate."

“Then we are late,” Jiraiya replied. “Naruto will come out when she is ready.” 

Yamato opened his mouth, likely to offer another teasing remark, but he never got the chance as a door opened upstairs and they all fell silent. Servants paused where they stood. The brothers stilled, breath catching as one. Even Menma went quiet, eyes wide as he stared up the staircase. Footsteps echoed down the corridor as Naruto made her way toward the staircase, toward the family who waited below. Each second stretched longer than it ought to have, the silence growing heavy with anticipation. 

Every one of the brothers froze when she finally appeared. Naruto stood at the top of the stairs, framed by the morning light. She was dressed in the finest white gown money could buy. Gold embroidery traced the edges of the fabric, accentuating the shock of blonde hair atop her head. Her hair had been styled and pinned into an updo from which loose curls escaped, brushing against her neck and shoulders. White gloves covered her arms up to the elbow, and dainty white heels encased her feet. A long train of fabric followed her, whispering down each step as she descended.

The light caught the gold jewelry resting at her throat, a necklace set with real diamonds that glimmered with every movement. Matching earrings adorned her ears, and resting upon her head sat a small golden tiara. Her makeup was light, just a dusting of gold shimmer along her eyes and cheekbones, a clear gloss on her lips. Nothing about it overwhelmed her features. If anything, it only highlighted what had always been there. 

Jiraiya was the first to move. “My darling,” he said, stepping forward and offering his hand as she reached the final steps. “You are beautiful.” 

“I feel like a doll,” Naruto scoffed, shattering the image of perfect refinement. Obito snorted, stepping closer to inspect her.

“You look like one. I’ve never seen you wear makeup.” 

“Riki insisted,” Naruto replied, rolling her eyes. “She threatened to cry if I refused.” 

From the corner, Riki sniffed pointedly. 

“Then we best be off,” Jiraiya said, steering her toward the front door. “Yamato, help Naruto with her dress.” 

Yamato sighed but complied without complaint, lifting the train of his sister’s gown and gathering it neatly as they made their way outside. He held it with care, arranging the fabric so it would not crease before helping guide it into the carriage. Naruto settled beside her father, hands folded in her lap. Kakashi, Yamato, and Obito followed, the carriage growing more crowded as they took their seats. 

From the steps, Sakumo and Menma waved enthusiastically. Menma practically bounced in place. “You’ll be amazing!” he called out. 

With a lurch and the crack of the reins, they began their journey toward the Queen’s palace—toward judgment, toward whispers, and toward a season that would change everything. 

Across town, far from the lively disorder of the Uzumaki household, Minato Namikaze awoke to silence. 

The morning sun shone through his bedroom windows, illuminating the room that had not yet been lived in. The townhouse was immaculate, bearing the chill of a place recently reopened rather than long occupied. Minato lay still for a moment, staring up at the ceiling as the weight of consciousness settled over him. He had arrived in Konoha late the previous night, the journey long and exhausting, yet sleep had not come easily. Too much had changed in too short a time, and too many expectations now rested on his shoulders. 

He rose quietly, though his thoughts were anything but. Today marked the beginning of the season and with it, the promise he had made to his mother. 

'At least try,' she had begged, 'It is time.' 

His father’s passing had been sudden; he had gone in his sleep peacefully. He had ruled his lands with honor for decades and was a good Duke, an even better man. Now that title belonged to Minato. 

The Duke of Arashi. 

With the title came land, responsibility, influence, and expectation. Chief among them, his mother’s insistence that he marry and continue the Namikaze line. Minato understood her urgency. The sudden loss of her husband had sharpened her fears. A wife for Minato would mean stability, and grandchildren would mean reassurance that her husband’s legacy would endure. Still, understanding did not make it any less frustrating. If only she knew he had no intentions of keeping his promise...

The past months had been consumed by duty, learning every corner of the Arashi estate, reviewing ledgers, meeting stewards, and memorizing obligations his father once fulfilled with ease. Thankfully, Minato had been groomed for this role since childhood, educated as the heir long before fate demanded he step forward. 

Even so, filling his father’s place felt daunting. 

He dressed in a dark blue ensemble trimmed with gold, the colors of his house. His hair was brushed neatly into place, his jaw clean-shaven. A servant arrived with breakfast shortly thereafter, which Minato ate without much thought, mind drifting ahead to the day awaiting him. 

When he finally stepped outside, the morning air that greeted him was cool and fresh. Minato drew in a slow breath. 

'It was going to be a long day.' 

Naruto paced just beyond the great hall, standing among the other young women as they waited to be called inside. Silk skirts brushed against marble floors, nervous whispers filled the hall, and somewhere nearby, a door opened and closed, the sound echoing far louder than it should have. A large headpiece now crowned Naruto’s hair, white feathers arranged atop her updo. It was light enough that she scarcely felt its weight. 

'Today must go well.'

Naruto drew in a breath, then another. She could not make a fool of herself, not today. All she had to do was smile politely, keep her opinions to herself, curtsey when instructed, speak only when spoken to, and most importantly…impress the Queen. Her hands trembled despite her efforts to still them, fingers curling into the fabric of her gloves. Her heart raced, breath coming a touch too quickly. Naruto had faced far more dangerous things than a room full of nobles—hunts, her brothers’ relentless competitions—but this? 

This terrified her. 

Naruto had never cared much for her image, nor for how society perceived her. She knew who she was, and she had long accepted the truth others whispered behind fans and closed doors.

No one desired a woman like her for a wife. 

Naruto loved running barefoot through the grass, the earth cool beneath her feet. She loved dancing in the rain until her clothes clung to her skin and her hair hung heavy with water. She hunted with her brothers and played whatever sport they challenged her to, and more often than not, she won. She read fluently and often aloud, sprawled beside her younger brothers with a book balanced in her hands. She helped the servants cook and clean, run errands in their place if she found the time, much to society’s horror. A lady of her standing, doing servant’s work? Naruto scoffed inwardly. She had never seen the sense in forcing others to do labor she was perfectly capable of doing herself. 

But she loved to garden most of all.

At both the Uzumaki townhouse in Konoha and their estate in Uzushio, entire sections of land were dedicated to her flowers. Naruto spent hours there, knees dirty from kneeling in the soil, fingers stained with earth, skin warmed and kissed by the sun. She often returned indoors covered in dirt and petals alike, smiling as though she had discovered treasure. 

Yes, Naruto knew full well that a woman like her, 'a wild woman', had no proper place in such a decent society. She nearly snorted aloud. 'Decent, my ass.'

But months ago, her father had sat her down and asked her to try to find a husband, just once, for him. Jiraiya Uzumaki had never asked such a thing of her before. He had always indulged her, encouraged her, never once made her feel lesser for being a daughter rather than a son. So Naruto had agreed. Even if she caught no one’s eye, even if nothing came of it. At least she would be able to say she had made the effort and that, she knew, would be enough for her father. 

Still, that did little to calm her nerves.  

Naruto turned and offered a reassuring smile to Hinata Hyuuga and to Hana, Hinata’s younger sister. Hana was debuting today as well, despite her youth. It grated on her nerves how often the Hyuuga family overlooked Hinata in favor of her younger sister. Hinata was beautiful, with soft purple eyes, dark blue-black hair, and a grace that never demanded attention yet deserved it all the same. 

Naruto felt a familiar twinge of guilt. She suspected (knew) that part of the Hyuuga family’s disdain for Hinata stemmed from her friendship with Naruto herself, yet Hinata had never once wavered. She was Naruto’s closest friend, had been for years, and Naruto would not trade her for the approval of the entire ton. 

Unfortunately for the Hyuugas, while Jiraiya Uzumaki was a viscount, he was still well respected despite the whispers about his daughter, and to snub Naruto outright would be to snub her entire family.

That, even in a society that delighted in gossip and scandal, was social suicide.

Kakashi stood in the grand hall alongside two of his brothers, hands folded behind his back as they waited for the Queen’s arrival. The room buzzed with anticipation, but Kakashi barely noticed any of it. 

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t nervous for Naruto.

He loved his sister dearly. Every instinct in him screamed to take her by the hand, march her straight back to Uzushio, and shut the gates behind them. It was his duty, after all, to protect his younger siblings. To shield them from a world that so often took more than it gave. And yet… their father wanted this for Naruto, and she had agreed, to everyone’s horror. None of them wanted to see their beautiful, beloved sister married off to some prissy ponce, to some polished lord who would try to cage her spirit, who would not cherish her fire or understand her heart. They wanted Naruto to remain exactly as she was. 

But their father had always spoken of love, of true love. He had found it once, with their late mother, and he wanted that same miracle for his children.  

Kakashi’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a familiar presence stepping into his space. “Well, look who it is,” Kakashi said, surprise flashing across his face as he reached out. Minato Namikaze grasped his hand, laughing as he pulled Kakashi into a brief hug. 

“I never thought I’d see the day you showed up here,” Kakashi said with a crooked grin. 

“Needs must, my dear friend,” Minato replied. “How is your family?” 

Yamato and Obito leaned around Kakashi, grins spreading across their faces. “Minato! It’s been far too long,” Yamato greeted warmly. 

“All is well with the Uzumaki household,” Kakashi said. “I’m more curious about where you have been.” 

“Arranging my father’s burial and settling matters with my mother.” Minato intoned, his smile fading.

Yamato’s expression fell. “We heard. I’m truly sorry, Minato. Your father was a great man. I regret that we could not visit during your mourning period.” 

“You’re a duke now, right?” Obito asked, trying to lighten the mood. “ Lord Minato Namikaze, Duke of Arashi. Has a nice ring to it.” 

“That explains your presence,” Kakashi added dryly. “Your mother is already pushing for marriage and grandchildren.” 

Minato sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Relentlessly. I asked her to remain at home while I traveled here. Had I brought her along, she would have paraded every eligible lady in court before me.” 

“With that title, I think they’ll do that anyway. A bachelor duke doesn’t stay unnoticed for long.” 

Minato’s gaze flicked between them. “Which brings me to my question: why are you all here? Surely you didn’t decide to seek wives all in the same season.” 

“Gods, no,” Kakashi shuddered. “Can you imagine the horror?” 

“We’re here for our sister,” Yamato explained. “You remember Naruto, don’t you? I know it’s been years since you last saw her.” 

Minato’s breath caught. 

“Naruto is debuting?” he asked, startled. His palms grew clammy. Of course, he remembered Naruto Uzumaki. How could he not? The golden girl lingered in his thoughts far more often than he cared to admit. “Time has flown, I can hardly believe she’s old enough to enter society.” 

“Well,” Obito grumbled, “it remains to be seen whether society is ready for a woman like Naruto.” 

“Still the same, then?” 

“Hasn’t changed a bit,” Yamato said firmly. “And good for her. None of these men is worthy of her anyway.” 

Kakashi nodded in agreement. 

“What made her want to debut?” Minato inquired.  

“Our father asked her,” Kakashi scoffed. “He wants her to find a love match. I told him, repeatedly, that I would support Naruto for the rest of her life, that we all would. We know the rumors, we know how cruel people can be. We don’t want her hurt.” 

“But Father insisted she try.” 

“And she agreed?” Minato asked, stunned. 

“Without hesitation,” Kakashi replied. “I think she knows she may never find someone who loves her the way she deserves, but she’s doing this for him.” 

Minato fell silent. He wondered what kind of woman Naruto had become. Even as a young girl, she had been striking. A wildflower. Beautiful, resilient, often overlooked in favor of more delicate blooms, or worse, trampled beneath careless feet. Naruto had always been a woman of her own making. 

And society did not know what to do with women like that. 

Minato’s parents certainly hadn’t. Years ago, when he had first expressed interest in Naruto, his mother had nearly fainted at the suggestion, pleading with him to find a respectable young lady. They had fought for hours until he had relented. He had been young at the time, easily influenced by his mother's words. So he had turned his affection into teasing, his longing into cruelty. It was a coward's solution, he knew. Naruto despised him now, had sworn it to his face. Perhaps it was for the best, but even so, his heart beat wildly at the thought of seeing her again. 

The last time had been years ago, Naruto had been fourteen, Minato and Kakashi nineteen, and well into their first semester at university. She had come to visit them with their father, and they had fought that day. Minato hadn’t seen her since. He regretted every poisonous word he had spoken. But at the time, distance had seemed the only way to protect her. If she hated him, she would keep away, and besides… she was Kakashi’s sister. 

If the Uzumaki brothers ever learned the truth of his feelings, he would be hunted down without mercy. Their protectiveness was legendary. Even young Menma had once kicked a man squarely in the privates for daring to speak ill of Naruto. Naruto had laughed for days afterward and praised Menma for it even longer. 

Before long, the Queen entered the hall, flanked by her guards. Queen Tsunade was a striking figure with honey-blonde hair swept into an elegant style, and shrewd amber eyes surveying the room with indifference. She wore an extravagant gown of deep green and gold, the fabric heavy with embroidery and jewels. She looked bored already… It did not bode well for the young ladies waiting just beyond the doors. 

Kakashi felt his pulse quicken. The Queen was notorious for her discerning eye and her lack of patience. One misstep, one poorly chosen word, and a debutante could be dismissed before she ever had a chance to make an impression. 

'Would Naruto be able to endure this?' 

The first lady was announced and ushered into the room. She stepped forward with grace, skirts rustling as she approached the Queen. When she reached the center of the hall, she performed a deep, perfectly executed curtsy, head bowed low, eyes demurely cast toward the floor. “Your Majesty,” she greeted, voice measured. 

Queen Tsunade barely shifted in her seat. One manicured finger tapped lazily against the armrest of her throne as her gaze flicked over the girl, assessing her posture, her gown, and the precision of her bow. 

“Mm,” the Queen hummed, unimpressed. The girl straightened, hands folded before her, shoulders tense as she waited. Tsunade said nothing. The silence stretched before the Queen made a small gesture with her hand, signaling for the next debutante. 

Naruto watched anxiously as more young ladies exited the hall, each one fighting to keep her composure as she rejoined the waiting crowd. Naruto swallowed hard, resisting the urge to chew on her lip or rake her fingers through her carefully styled hair. Why had she agreed to this? She was going to make a fool of herself. She knew it. 

Her gaze followed as Hinata’s mother guided both Hinata and her younger sister toward the doors. Hinata glanced back once, eyes filled with concern, searching Naruto’s face. Naruto forced a smile in response. As the doors closed behind them, a pang of longing struck her chest. She missed her mother more than ever in that moment. Oh, how she wished she were here to guide her, to reassure her, to teach her how to become even a fraction of the respectable lady society demanded. 

A throat cleared behind her, and Naruto turned, startled, to find her father standing there. 

“Father? What are you doing here?” 

“You think I’m going to let you go through those doors alone?” Jiraiya retorted, slipping her arm into his. 

“It’s not proper for a father to lead his daughter before the Queen,” Naruto pointed out.

“Since when have you cared about propriety?” 

A giggle escaped her before she could stop it, the knot in her chest loosening. Naruto tightened her grip on his arm and shot him a grateful look. Her father was many things, but above all else, he was the best father she could have ever asked for. 

The doors opened, and Naruto stepped through with her back straight and her chin lifted, gaze locking onto the Queen at once. 

“Miss Naruto Uzumaki,” the herald announced, “escorted by Viscount Jiraiya Uzumaki.” 

She moved forward with confidence, a large smile settling naturally upon her lips. Naruto ignored the stares, the whispers, her eyes never wavering from the Queen. She drew strength from her father’s presence, then released his arm and stepped forward alone. Reaching the center of the hall, Naruto curtsied, lowering her head just enough to appear polite. “Your Majesty.” 

Any moment now, she expected to be dismissed, to be waved away with indifference, to be sent back to join the others. Instead, she heard movement as golden heels entered her vision. A pale hand reached out, fingers lifting her chin gently. Naruto’s bright blue gaze met Queen Tsunade’s amber eyes. 

“Impeccable, my dear.” 

Just like that, she turned and resumed her seat. Naruto rose slowly, heart pounding so loudly she was certain the entire hall could hear it. She walked toward the exit in a daze, barely registering her father falling into step behind her. 

Impeccable. 

Had the Queen truly said that? To her?  

Her hands trembled, and she caught herself nibbling unconsciously at her lip. The moment they stepped beyond the doors, her father swept her into his arms, spinning her around. Naruto laughed, startled, as her train tangled around his legs and he stumbled. 

“Marvelous! Simply marvelous!” Jiraiya exclaimed, laughter booming. “To impress the Queen so early…Naruto, I am so proud of you!” 

She blushed fiercely, laughing as she wrapped her arms around him in return. 

Minato stood beside Kakashi as lady after lady made their debut before the Queen and the assembled lords and heirs seeking marriage matches this season. Silks and jewels blurred together after a while, each young woman performing the same careful curtsies. Queen Tsunade did not appear impressed in the slightest, and Minato found himself wondering what it would take to move such a rigid woman, to earn even a flicker of genuine interest from her assessing gaze. 

Beside him, Kakashi shifted restlessly. Minato did not need to look to know why. Naruto still had not appeared, and it was clear the brothers’ attention was not on the debutantes at all. All three of them watched the doors like hawks, tension etched into their shoulders as they waited for their sister to step through. Minato, too, found himself impatient. 

He had not seen Naruto in years, had not truly seen her since that final argument. He wondered what she looked like now. Was her hair still as golden as sunlight? Did her blue eyes still sparkle like the open sea? How beautiful had she become in the time he had been away? 

When the doors finally opened, and Naruto’s name was announced, their gazes snapped toward her. Minato felt the breath leave his lungs, his mouth parting slightly before he could stop himself. There were no words that could properly describe the devastating beauty standing before him. 

'By the gods…' 

He nearly said it aloud. 

Whispers spread through the hall as the men around him took in the sight of her. The sunlight streaming through the windows seemed to favor Naruto alone, catching on her golden hair and jewelry, warming her sun-kissed skin until she appeared luminous. Her white gown made her look ethereal, almost fae-like, as though she had stepped straight out of a fairytale. 

This was Naruto? This was the same girl who laughed loudly and unrestrainedly as she wrestled her brothers in the mud after a rainstorm? The same one who had tackled him during an overly enthusiastic family game, taunting him all the while? 

The smile on her face now was not small or timid like those of the ladies before her. It was wide and full of teeth and confidence. She did not fidget; she did not shrink beneath the weight of the room’s attention. If anything, her chin lifted higher as she stepped away from her father. 

Minato could not tear his eyes from her as she approached the Queen. When Naruto bowed, he held his breath, fully expecting Tsunade to dismiss her as she had the others, but his eyes widened as Queen Tsunade rose from her seat and approached Naruto herself, lifting her chin and declaring her impeccable. 

The whispers around him grew louder as Naruto disappeared into the adjoining room, and only then did Minato realize how tense his body had been and how deeply, unmistakably, he had already fallen back into her orbit. 

The moment they stepped through the doors of the palace, Obito reached Naruto first, scooping her up just as their father had and spinning her around without warning. Naruto yelped, laughing as she clutched at his shoulders. She was promptly passed to Yamato next, who wrapped her in a tight squeeze before setting her back on her feet. Kakashi watched it all with a wide grin, pride shining openly in his eyes. 

As soon as they settled into the carriage, Naruto and Obito immediately launched into an animated conversation about the palace, the grandeur of it, the suffocating atmosphere, and the stiff and overly serious lords who lurked along the walls. Jiraiya listened with a fond smile, watching his daughter as though she were the sun itself. 

Kakashi turned his gaze toward the carriage window, his smile slowly fading into something more thoughtful. He knew what would come next. By tomorrow morning, Naruto would be receiving callers with invitations, flowers, and declarations from every eligible man in the ton. Men who had once mocked her, dismissed her, whispered cruel things behind gloved hands. But now? Now she was the only debutante who had impressed the Queen, so much so that Tsunade herself had risen from her throne. There was no doubt about it, Naruto Uzumaki had been named the Diamond of the Season. 

Kakashi frowned slightly and met Yamato’s steady brown gaze. 

“There’s nothing else for it, brother,” Yamato hummed, understanding where his brother's thoughts were heading. “We simply have to be there to protect her.” 

Kakashi nodded. Yamato had always been good at reading the thoughts of his siblings. When they arrived at the townhouse, their younger brothers rushed out to greet them, barely containing their excitement. Naruto’s personal servant, Riki, stood nearby, already assessing her mistress with a critical eye. 

“Well?” Sakumo questioned impatiently as he helped Naruto down from the carriage first. 

“It went better than expected,” Naruto replied.

“Better than expected?” Obito scoffed. “Our dear sister downplays herself once again! She impressed the Queen so much that she stood up from her fancy chair!"

“Truly?” Sakumo laughed. 

“It’s true,” Yamato confirmed. 

Menma barreled into Naruto, wrapping his arms around her waist. Naruto laughed and hugged him back just as fiercely, ruffling his dark hair affectionately. 

“I knew you could do it! I knew it!” Menma exclaimed, voice muffled against her stomach. 

“Thank you, Menma.” Naruto smiled warmly. “Come, let’s get inside. I want to change out of this dress immediately.” 

Riki rolled her eyes but followed Naruto without complaint as they entered the house and headed upstairs, where Naruto would finally exchange her dress for something far more comfortable. 

The next morning dawned early for the servants of the Uzumaki townhouse. They had risen before the sun, bustling through the halls to ensure the house was in immaculate condition. Dusting, polishing, and cleaning until every surface gleamed. Today, everything had to be perfect. 

The Uzumaki townhouse was a home of splendor. Cream-colored walls contrasted beautifully with dark wood accents and rich blues edged in deeper hues. Golden trinkets and chandeliers sparkled, cream rugs carried the scent of fresh cleaning, and the family portrait above the grand staircase sat perfectly aligned. Outside, the grounds were just as carefully tended. Green grass and blooming flowers framed the townhouse, and though the backyard was smaller than their manor in Uzushio, it was still lovingly maintained. 

Today, Naruto Uzumaki would be receiving callers, and there would be many. 

Kakashi paced outside Naruto’s bedroom door, debating whether to knock or simply wait. He wanted to check on her, to make sure she was ready for what the day would bring. Just as he lifted his hand, the door swung open. He stepped back quickly to avoid being struck. 

Naruto looked up, startled, before breaking into a laugh. “Kashi, what are you doing?” 

He smiled sheepishly and fell into step beside her as she began walking toward the receiving room. “I came to check on you,” he admitted. “But it seems my worry was unfounded. You look beautiful this morning.” 

And she did. Her hair was curled, pinned at the sides, while long blonde strands flowed down her back and over the front of her dress. Her bangs framed her face just as they always had. The gown she wore was simpler than yesterday’s, but no less elegant in pale blue, a shade that made her eyes shine. She wore silver jewelry today. Kakashi recognized it immediately as a set belonging to their late mother, and his chest tightened. 

“Thank you,” Naruto said. “But I’m okay. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

“It’s my job to worry about you, Naruto,” he replied, studying her face. “How are you feeling, really?” 

Naruto sighed and came to a stop. She turned to face him fully, looking up at her older brother. “I’m… surprisingly good. I was anxious yesterday, but today I’m ready. I know what I’m facing. I know who will be calling.” 

Her lips pressed together briefly. 

“It does bother me that most of the men who come will be the same ones who have scorned me for years. That their opinions changed so easily just because the Queen found me impressive.” She exhaled. “I won’t ignore that fact. I know they want me now because of it, but I won’t turn them away either. I will try to find a good match.” 

She said it plainly, honestly, in the only way Naruto Uzumaki could. Kakashi smiled, then pulled her into a hug. 

“I forget how grown you are,” he murmured. “I still remember holding you the day Mother gave birth to you. You were such a loud baby, but the moment she placed you in my arms, you quieted.” 

Naruto smiled against his chest. 

“I think I was the only one who could calm you for a long time,” he continued, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. “And now, seeing you like this… perhaps it is I who is not ready for this day.” 

“It’s too bad mother couldn’t be here to help me,” Naruto whispered. “She would know exactly what to say or how to lead a room full of suitors.” 

“She is here with you, Naruto,” Kakashi said as he pulled back. He placed a hand over her heart. “She’s right here, and I know she would be so proud of you. I know you never wanted this…to be paraded around like some prize. You are worth far more than being a pretty thing on a man’s arm.” He searched her face. “Promise me you won’t dull your shine just to keep your promise to Father.” 

The very thought of Naruto folding herself into something smaller—daintier, quieter, acceptable—made his chest tighten. 

“I promise,” she nodded, then her lips curved into a mischievous grin. “I plan on making them work for it.” 

Kakashi laughed, delighted, the last of his worries easing. He guided her the rest of the way to the receiving room. The rest of the family was already there, scattered throughout the space. Obito and Sakumo were hunched over a chessboard, trading insults as freely as they moved pieces. Yamato sat by the bay window overlooking the town, a sketchbook resting against his knee as his pencil moved across the page. Menma occupied the chair closest to the couch where Naruto would sit, a children’s book open in his lap, feet swinging. Their father stood near the refreshment table, nibbling on one of the tiny sandwiches. 

Kakashi led Naruto to her seat and positioned himself just behind the couch. 

“Well?” he asked the room. “Is everyone ready?” 

The chatter died instantly as all eyes turned to him. Jiraiya watched with pride as his eldest son took command so naturally. Kakashi would make a fine Viscount one day, Jiraiya was certain of it. 

“You all know what’s expected,” Kakashi continued. “This is for Naruto’s sake. If any man makes an untoward comment or an inappropriate move, you alert Father or me immediately. I don’t care if it’s one of the Queen’s own sons or cousins, this is our home. Disrespect will not be tolerated.” 

Naruto laughed, leaning back against the couch. “As if I’d let them say such things to my face without consequence.” 

“That’s my girl,” Jiraiya boasted proudly. He stepped forward and gave a nod to the head house servant, signaling that callers could be received. Naruto picked up one of the books scattered across the table and began to read as she waited, but she didn’t have to wait long. 

The callers arrived in quick succession, bearing flowers and rehearsed compliments. Naruto spoke with each of them, learning their names and titles. One man presented her with a gift so absurdly presumptuous that she rolled her eyes at Kakashi behind his back. Kakashi shook his head, lips twitching with amusement. The first true surprise of the day came when Sasuke Uchiha was announced. 

Naruto looked up in shock. Sasuke was an old friend, one she had been forced to lose when his family decided such a friendship was inappropriate. Though he was not his family’s heir, that honor belonged to his older brother, Itachi, who would one day be Earl, Sasuke was still well respected within the ton...and he had grown into a very handsome man. 

Naruto smiled as he kissed the back of her hand. 

“Sasuke,” she greeted, gesturing for him to take the seat beside her, the first man she had invited to do so. Several others looked on with envy, but she paid them no mind. Despite his family’s interference, Sasuke had never once spoken ill of her.

“How have you been?” she asked. 

“Better, now that the weather’s turned,” Sasuke replied. “There was a bout of flu this winter, and we lost several people. My father was beside himself for months.” 

Naruto’s expression softened in sadness before she accepted the small pouch he offered. She raised an eyebrow in question.

“You still enjoy gardening, don’t you?”

Her eyes widened, and she nodded.

“I took the liberty of procuring a selection of flower seeds native to our lands,” Sasuke continued. “I thought they might suit your garden.” 

“That’s incredibly thoughtful,” Naruto said, grinning as she set the pouch aside with care. “Thank you.” 

It was the most meaningful gift she had received all day. 

“How is your brother?” she queried.

“He’s well and sends his regards,” Sasuke responded. “His wife is heavily pregnant, so he couldn’t attend the season this year. You know how much he enjoys watching people make fools of themselves.” 

“It wasn’t that long ago he was the one fumbling after Lady Mikasa. If I recall correctly, he even beat a man half to death for daring to imply she was a whore.” 

Sasuke snorted, shoulders relaxing. “I’ll be sure to remind him that you’ll never let him forget it.” 

Sasuke remained for a while longer, the two of them chatting easily as they caught up on years lost to distance and family interference. By the time he departed, Naruto had agreed to a promenade through the town square later in the week. After his departure, however, Naruto once again found herself enduring ignorant men. At one point, a gentleman implied that she must surely be illiterate and that he would be more than happy to teach her to read. Naruto had smiled sweetly and proceeded to recite, word for word, a passage from Shakespeare.

Yamato snorted into his drink, barely disguising his delight, as the man stammered, flushed crimson, and made a hasty retreat, his pride left in utter ruin. The calls continued in much the same fashion for hours. By the time the afternoon began to wane, Naruto’s patience was thinning until the next name was announced. 

“Heir Gaara Sabaku, Prince of Suna.” 

The red-haired man who entered the room was tall and striking, his hair the color of the finest roses, his piercing green eyes finding hers instantly as he bowed deeply. He wore a richly tailored suit of deep red and cream, a gold crown resting atop his vibrant hair. 

“My lady,” he greeted, a faint accent coloring his deep voice. 

Naruto felt heat rise to her cheeks as she offered her hand. He pressed a respectful kiss to her knuckles before straightening. “My lord,” she replied. 

He waved it off almost immediately. “Please, just Gaara.” 

"Then please, take a seat with me, Gaara, and call me Naruto.” 

“I hope you do not mind,” he said as he sat, “but I asked around about you. I found little information regarding your likes and dislikes, but I brought a gift I believe you will enjoy.” 

He gestured, and one of his attendants stepped forward, placing a carefully wrapped box into Naruto’s hands. She opened it and gasped. Inside was a plant unlike any she had ever seen. 

“What is it?” she asked, lifting it carefully. 

“It is called a Venus Flytrap,” Gaara explained. “A carnivorous plant. They are native to my homeland. When I learned you had an interest in gardening, I had one picked out at once.” 

“Its more than an interest,” Naruto corrected lightly. “I tend our gardens myself whenever I’m home. It irritates our hired gardener terribly. I keep telling him to take a holiday.” She laughed. 

Gaara smiled, pleased. “I suspected as much. There’s also a book included with guidance on its care. I know it will be in capable hands.” 

Naruto flipped through the small book, genuinely impressed. A prince, bringing her something so thoughtful, sent a flutter of nerves through her chest. Sakumo wandered over, peering at the strange plant with open awe. 

“Tell me about your homeland,” Naruto said, turning back to Gaara. “I would love to hear more.” 

His eyes lit as he spoke of the desert he called home, of their traditions, vibrant markets, and foods bursting with spice. He paused often, encouraging her questions, laughing softly at her curiosity. Before he left, he even promised to bring her spices on his next visit. Naruto watched him go, heart racing. What, exactly, had she gotten herself into? 

As Gaara left, so too did the rest of the men. By the time the doors finally closed behind the last caller, the sun had dipped lower in the sky, and Naruto was ravenous, her social smile long since retired. It had been an eventful day, far more so than she had ever imagined. She sank into her seat at the dinner table as servants brought in the meal, lifting her cup and drinking deeply. Her throat was sore from hours of conversation. 

“A prince! A real prince!” Menma giggled from across the table. “Our sister has caught the attention of a prince from a foreign land!” 

“Yes, we all saw,” Sakumo muttered, stabbing at his food in mild irritation. 

“So. Many. Suitors,” Obito groaned, leaning back in his chair, physically exhausted by the very idea. Kakashi and Yamato mirrored the motion, the three of them sharing a look that said never again. 

“You all act like you were the ones entertaining them,” Naruto snorted. The tired eyes of her brothers swung toward her in unison before she burst out laughing.

“What are you going to do with all the flowers?” Menma asked between bites. 

Naruto hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll put some around the house; there were a few truly lovely arrangements. But the orange ones are going in my room.” 

“Of course they are,” Kakashi said dryly. Orange had always been her favorite. 

“Can you believe Lord Byron actually implied that I would be kept locked in his manor if I married him?” Naruto scoffed, incredulous even now. 

Obito’s grip tightened around his fork. “I almost wish I’d been the one to escort him out. Shame Father got to him first.” 

“He was far too old for you anyway,” Yamato added coolly. “As if he ever had a chance.” 

“I imagine they all think they have a chance. Age doesn’t matter to them. They think I’ll be dazzled by titles and attention, like they’re doing me a service by calling on me. By promising to tame my… ‘wilder nature.’” Her lip curled. 

“Too bad they don’t know you at all,” Kakashi teased with a grin. “If they think you’d fall over yourself for a title.” 

Jiraiya, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke. “I did notice that the Uchiha boy and the prince held your attention more than the rest.” 

Naruto nodded, her thoughts drifting to the two men. Sasuke had always been quiet, with pale skin, dark hair, and eyes that matched. He was reserved, prone to silence, but kind. From what she remembered of their childhood, he could be coaxed into laughter, into mischief, if one was patient enough. Gaara, on the other hand, was much different: sun-touched skin, vivid red hair, and striking green eyes. Quiet as well, but unafraid to show emotion, to smile or laugh openly. Not at all what she had expected of a prince, and she found she liked that immensely. 

'Both were undeniably handsome,' she admitted with a blush. 

“Yes,” she said aloud, pushing her thoughts away. “They were impressive. It was good to see Sasuke again, even if his family once prevented our friendship and Gaara…He surprised me. I can’t wait to read the booklet on the plant he brought me. They were the only two who brought something personal.” 

She leaned back in her chair, unaware of the glances her brothers exchanged, each bracing themselves for what this season might yet bring. 

Minato paced the length of his library the morning after Naruto’s bombshell debut, hands clasped tightly behind his back as sunlight streamed in through the tall windows. 

Should he call on her? Should he even visit her at all? 

He could pretend it was Kakashi he wished to see and then somehow slip away to speak to Naruto. The thought barely formed before he dismissed it with a shake of his head. She would laugh him out the door if he even dared to approach her, and if his mother ever learned of the feelings he still harbored for Naruto Uzumaki… No, he couldn’t approach her as a potential suitor. Not now, not ever. Even if the idea hollowed his heart, he would have to watch from afar as men paraded before her, each one attempting to win her affection, to cage her wild brilliance with pretty promises and gilded words....

The thought sent a surge of fury through him. With a snarl, Minato grabbed the glass resting on his desk and hurled it against the wall. It shattered on impact, whiskey splattering uselessly down the pale stone. The drink had gone untouched anyway. He dragged a hand through his hair roughly.

“Your Grace.” 

Minato froze as his servant entered the room. Sonya, his oldest and most trusted attendant, surveyed the damage with a knowing look. She had been at his side since childhood, had soothed him through scraped knees and grief alike. When he announced his intention to come to Konoha for the season, she had insisted on accompanying him. 

“Sonya… I’m sorry for the mess,” he sighed. 

She merely hummed and knelt to gather the broken glass. “You’re thinking about the Uzumaki girl, aren’t you?” 

Minato shot her a tired, almost helpless look. “How do you always know?” 

"I changed your nappies, young man. I know when something is weighing on your heart.” 

He sank into the nearest chair, elbows braced against his knees. “It’s not as though I can simply… act on my affection for Naruto. I ruined any chance I had with her years ago.” His voice dropped. “But I do not know if I can stand by and watch her fall in love with someone else.” 

“Your Grace, you have never been one to shy away from a challenge. So tell me, what is stopping you now?” 

Minato let out a humorless laugh. “Everything.” 

He lifted his gaze to meet hers, eyes clouded with conflict. “My mother has made her disapproval of Naruto clear for years, and to pursue her now would feel like a betrayal of my father’s memory. Then there is Kakashi to think about. If he knew the true nature of my feelings, it could ruin our friendship… perhaps even the ties between our families. Years ago, I made the choice to put distance between us, to do what I believed was best.” His hands clenched. “But I cannot lie and say it was ever the best thing for me. My heart has never stopped yearning for her.” 

“I never took you for one to choose the coward’s way out.” 

Sonya’s words landed like a slap, and Minato looked at her, shock flickering across his face. 

“You have lived by the laws of others your entire life,” she continued, unfazed by his expression. “Duty. Expectation. Reputation. I have never once seen you do something selfish for your own happiness in all my years of caring for you. Not once. So tell me, why should your mother’s disapproval stop you from pursuing the woman you love? Or your fear of losing a friend? Are you ashamed of your love?” 

Minato recoiled as if struck. “No,” he denied, shaking his head. “Never. I could never be ashamed of Naruto.” 

“Then stop hiding,” Sonya demanded. “Take the chance, win her over. You know her better than any man in the ton. Use that, use who she is, not who society wants her to be.” 

“She hates me,” he whispered. A memory rose unbidden, Naruto’s furious blue eyes, the way her face had hardened, the venom in her voice as she swore she would hate him forever. He had deserved it. Every cruel word he had spoken had been said to push her away, to make her believe he was no different from the rest of them. 

“They say there is a fine line between love and hate,” Sonya’s expression softened. “Are you certain of where her heart lies on that spectrum?” 

Minato said nothing because beneath the guilt, beneath the fear and regret, there was something far more dangerous stirring…hope.

The next morning, Naruto was reading the little booklet Gaara had left when her servant Riki came into the family room. 

“My lords, my lady! You must read this!” She said, waving around a piece of paper.

“What is it?” 

“It’s a new column, it was dropped off this morning, to every house in the ton. But look, it mentions you, my lady!” Riki said, pointing to the section. Naruto blinked, scanning the page as Riki hovered excitedly over her shoulder. At the top of the paper was the unmistakable silhouette of a woman, parasol in hand.  

Dearest Gentle Reader, 

It is with great pleasure that I announce the official commencement of the social season, a time when hopes are raised, hearts are broken, and reputations are made, or destroyed, with but a whisper. 

And whisper we shall. 

For it seems Her Majesty has wasted no time in selecting her diamond of the season, and what a surprise it is indeed. 

Yes, dear readers, Queen Tsunade herself appeared quite taken with none other than Miss Naruto Uzumaki, the only daughter of Viscount Jiraiya Uzumaki. 

This author must admit, I too was momentarily taken aback. For the ton has long painted Miss Uzumaki in rather unflattering hues—too loud, too bold, too free for polite society. A wild creature, they say. One better suited to muddy fields than gilded ballrooms. 

And yet… it appears Miss Uzumaki has bloomed most beautifully. 

Miss Uzumaki entered the Queen’s presence with confidence rarely seen among debutantes and not only earned Her Majesty’s attention but her personal approval. A feat few can claim. 

Naturally, such an endorsement did not go unnoticed. Yesterday alone, Miss Uzumaki received a veritable parade of callers. But one gentleman in particular caught this author’s discerning eye. 

Prince Gaara Sabaku of Suna, next in line to a foreign throne and possesses both striking looks and a kind disposition. The Prince was observed paying Miss Uzumaki a most attentive visit, lingering longer than most and presenting her with a gift of… uncommon taste. 

Could it be that Miss Uzumaki has already drawn a Prince into her orbit?  

But fear not, dear readers, for Prince Gaara was not the only notable presence at the Queen’s court. Another familiar and exceedingly eligible name has resurfaced within the city. 

Lord Minato Namikaze, Duke of Arashi, has been spotted among the attendees. 

The Duke’s recent inheritance following his father’s passing has placed him firmly back into society’s gaze, and it seems he may now be in search of a duchess to stand at his side. And why wouldn’t he be? 

For those with any wit at all will know that Duke Namikaze is widely regarded as one of the most brilliant men of his generation. A graduate of Konoha University with two degrees to his name, his intellect is rivaled only by his composur, and this author must confess, time has done nothing but sharpen his already considerable appeal. 

Indeed, he cuts a striking figure among the ton. 

Which begs the question, could the Duke of Arashi also be vying for Miss Uzumaki’s attention? After all, it is well known that Duke Namikaze shares a long-standing friendship with the Uzumaki heir, Kakashi Uzumaki. Coincidence or something far more intriguing? 

I shall be watching closely. 

Yours truly, 
Lady Whistledown 

Naruto lowered the paper slowly, her fingers tightening around the edges. “Minato is in town?” she asked, frowning as she looked toward Kakashi. 

“Oh, yes,” Kakashi replied after a beat, rubbing the back of his neck. “After all the excitement yesterday, I suppose I forgot to mention it. Why do you ask?” 

She lifted the paper again, tapping it once before holding it out to him. “He’s mentioned in this.” 

Kakashi took it, eyes scanning the column. Yamato leaned over his shoulder, Obito craning his neck to read as well. Before long, Obito barked out a laugh. 

“Oh, whoever this Lady Whistledown is, she’s got it completely wrong,” he said between chuckles. “Minato would rather die than try to court Naruto. Everyone knows how much they dislike each other.” 

The words hit harder than Naruto expected, and her smile never came. Instead, she turned her head away, jaw tightening. Yamato glanced at her, his amusement fading, but said nothing. 

“And he knows we would kill him if he ever tried,” Kakashi muttered, folding the paper once before tossing it onto the table.

Naruto’s chest felt tight. Memories she had long since shoved away stirred uncomfortably in her head, of the boy who had once teased her relentlessly, who had mocked her, who had looked at her with fear the last time they argued, of the way his words had burned because she had once cared what he thought. 

She stood abruptly. “I’m going to my room." 

Before anyone could stop her or ask what was wrong, she turned and hurried from the room, skirts swishing behind her. Kakashi frowned after her retreating form. 

“…That was sudden,” Obito noted 

“Yes,” Yamato exhaled, eyes lingering on the doorway. “It was.” 

Naruto rushed into her room and locked the door behind her. She leaned back against it, chest rising and falling unevenly as she squeezed her eyes shut. She hadn’t meant to think of that night, four years ago. 

She had only been fourteen then, riding beside her father toward Konoha University to visit Kakashi during his first year. His letters had been reassuring (he was busy, a little tired, but doing well), but they hadn’t been enough. Naruto had missed him fiercely. They had stayed at a respectable inn just outside the university grounds, one Jiraiya trusted. Naruto had barely let her father set down their bags before she was tugging at his sleeve, urging him to hurry. 

She’d burst onto campus, her father’s laughter chasing her as she ran until she spotted a familiar shock of silver hair. “Kakashi!” 

She slammed into him without hesitation, arms wrapping tight around his middle. 

“Naruto…can’t…breathe,” he laughed, even as his arms came around her, holding her just as tightly. 

“I missed you,” she whispered, her voice cracking, tears blurring her vision. 

“Hey,” he said gently, lifting her without effort and tucking her close despite her age. “Don’t cry. I’m right here.” 

“I see your leech has arrived.” 

Naruto whipped around, wiping at her eyes and scowling at the blonde boy lounging nearby, his blue eyes dancing with amusement. 

“Minato,” Kakashi sighed, setting her down. “No name-calling.” 

Naruto straightened her dress and shot Minato another glare. He only smirked wider. 

Hours passed far too quickly for her liking, hours spent locked in conversations, her father asking Kakashi about his classes, Naruto and Minato trading jabs, until exhaustion crept in and Naruto yawned for the third time. 

“Tired, my darling?” Jiraiya asked, running a hand fondly through her hair as she leaned against his shoulder. She nodded. “Can you wait just a little longer? I want to speak with Kakashi a bit more.” 

She was about to agree when a chair scraped back. 

“Actually,” Minato said, standing, “I should be returning to the dormitory. I have an essay due in two days.” He glanced at Naruto. “If you are agreeable, I don’t mind escorting Naruto back to her room. It isn’t far.” 

“Are you certain? It is late.” 

“Of course,” Minato replied smoothly. “I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise. She will be safe with me.” 

Naruto scoffed and ignored the hand he offered, pushing past him instead. She was tired. If enduring Minato Namikaze was the price of getting to bed, so be it. 

The walk was quiet, the night cool and clear. Stars glittered overhead, and Naruto found herself looking up more than she watched her feet, bumping into Minato once, nearly colliding with passersby twice. Each time, he caught her by the arm, guiding her aside without comment. She knew he was amused. He probably thought her clumsy or foolish. They reached the inn at last, and Naruto fumbled for the key, unlocking the door to step inside. As she turned to shut it, his voice stopped her. 

“No thank you, Miss Uzumaki?” 

“Like you did this out of the kindness of your heart,” She glared up at him. 

“Come now, Naruto. I’m not so dishonorable as to let a young lady walk alone at night. The least you could do is thank me before slamming the door in my face.” He grinned, eyes bright. 

“You want a thank you?” she snapped. “Fine. Thanks.” 

She went to shut the door, but his hand caught it easily. “What more do you want?” Naruto groaned.

“Is that the best you can do?” he teased, already stepping inside. “I expected more from you.” 

She rolled her eyes and shut the door behind him. 

“You know,” she said stiffly, “it’s highly improper for you to be in my room without a chaperone.” 

“As if I would ever want to try anything with you.” He scoffed.

“I’m tired, Minato,” Naruto said quietly, the fight draining from her voice. He stopped pacing and looked at her properly. Slowly, he stepped closer. Naruto didn’t move as he lifted his hand, fingers brushing a stray strand of her hair away from her eyes. He trailed his hand down her face, fingers brushing over her cheekbone. 

“What are you doing?” she whispered. 

Minato flinched as if burned. He stepped back, dropping his hand and shaking his head. “Nothing,” he snapped. He turned and stalked toward the door, his movements stiff, shoulders pulled tight. 

Naruto stared after him, confusion giving way to irritation. “I really don’t understand you.”

He paused with his hand wrapped around the doorknob, knuckles white.

“One minute you’re warm,” she continued, turning to face him, “and the next you’re ice cold. Sometimes I think we’re friends, and other times…” Her voice wavered. “Other times, I feel like you can’t stand me. I don’t understand why.” 

“You’re imagining things,” he said flatly, glancing over his shoulder. 

“Oh, am I?” 

“Yes.” He turned, blue eyes cold and heartless. “To think I could ever be friends with the likes of you.” 

Her teeth ground together. “The likes of me?” she demanded. 

“Don’t play dumb, Naruto. Though I suppose it doesn’t take much effort for you.” He sneered.

She turned away from him quickly, nails biting into her palms as she fought the sting behind her eyes. Why did his words hurt more than anyone else’s? Why did she care? 

“You are nothing more than a silly little girl,” Minato continued coldly. “And worse than that, you can’t even pretend to be responsible or respectable. You’d rather chase butterflies and bathe in mud.” His lip curled. “You are an embarrassment to your family. I’m honestly shocked they haven’t locked you away yet.” 

She gasped, breath catching painfully as tears finally spilled down her cheeks. She turned back toward him and, for the briefest moment, he faltered, but he stepped closer still.

“No,” he said quietly, venomously. “I could never associate myself with you, friend or otherwise. It would be social suicide.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a hiss in her ear. “And you aren’t worth that. You never will be.” 

Something inside her shattered, and she shoved him with all the strength she had. “Get out!” she sobbed. “Get out!” 

Minato stumbled back, colliding with the door, shock flashing across his face as he watched her crumble. 

“I hate you!” she cried, her voice breaking. “I hate you so much! You and everyone like you can rot in a grave for all I care! You’re all the same!” Her chest heaved as she screamed through tears. “At least I’m not cruel and arrogant! I know who I am! I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not just to earn the approval of people I don’t even care about!” 

She collapsed inward, sobbing violently. Minato stood there for one agonizing moment longer—eyes wide, face pale—before turning and opening the door. It shut softly behind him, and Naruto slid to the floor, her sobs echoing in the empty room as the world she thought she understood fell apart. 

Naruto let the memory fade, brushing at the tears that still welled whenever she thought of that night. It was etched into her very being, a wound that had never fully scarred over. She remembered the morning after, how she had refused to leave her bed, feigning illness. It hadn’t been difficult; her voice was hoarse, her eyes swollen and aching from crying until her chest hurt. Her father had been concerned enough to cut their visit short, though Kakashi had come to see her before they left, sitting at her bedside. After that, every time her father planned a visit to see Kakashi during his schooling, Naruto always found an excuse not to go. She never wanted to see Minato again, but now it seemed she might be faced with the inevitable. 

Naruto crossed the room slowly and sat on the edge of her bed, her gaze drifting toward the window. The world outside was calm, unaware of the storm twisting in her chest.

She would ignore him; that was all she could do. No doubt her brother would wish to see him, might even invite him into their home. Naruto would make certain she was not present then, or she would lock herself away in her room, safe behind closed doors, and if he dared approach her at a ball, she would turn away politely, as though he were nothing more than a stranger. She would not let him ruin this for her.

She had a promise to keep. 

Hours later found Naruto preparing for the first ball of the season, her maids fluttering about her like nervous birds as they fussed with her hair, straightened her skirts, and adjusted the corset until it fit her just right. 

She wore a gorgeous pale pink gown, the corset lifting her breasts and cinching her waist to show off her soft, curvy form. White lace lay delicately over the pink silk, pairing beautifully with the long white gloves slipped over her arms. Her blonde hair had been pinned up, curls carefully arranged and held in place by a golden comb. Her cheeks were brushed with a soft pink, her lips glossed to a shine, and a pale dusting of rose shadow swept across her eyelids.

She looked every bit the respectable, beautiful young lady society expected her to be, and yet her smile was just a little too wide, her stance a touch too relaxed. Naruto had promised herself, her father, and Kakashi that she would never change who she was at her core to fit society’s mold…but she could still look the part. She privately delighted in the way her skirts swayed as she turned, enjoying how the fabric shimmered and flirted around her ankles when she moved. 

At last, her maids stepped back, exchanging satisfied nods. She was ready. Naruto left her room and descended the stairs, where her family waited. Kakashi stepped forward, offering his hand for the final steps, and she took it with a smile. 

“Well,” he said, spinning her, “you will certainly make an impression tonight, Naru.” 

“That’s the goal,” she giggled. 

Outside the townhouse, she waved to Hinata across the street. Hinata smiled back warmly, dressed in a lavender gown that made her purple eyes shine. Naruto hoped that this would be the season Hinata found her match. She knew how badly her friend wished to find love, to finally step out from beneath her family’s shadow. 

Naruto settled into the carriage as it rolled away. The first ball of the season was being hosted by one of the Queen’s closest friends, Lady Shizune Tōji. Her husband had passed years ago, leaving her a widow. Privately, Naruto suspected Shizune had found more peace than grief in his absence; Lord Mizuki had never been a good man, and how someone so cruel had managed to wed a woman so kind was beyond her understanding. 

The Tōji manor was grand, and Naruto felt a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing it lit and alive for the evening. Gentlemen would approach, request dances, and write their names on her card. She would have to be selective, choosing only a few tonight and above all else… 

She would need to do her very best to avoid Minato at all costs. 

The Uzumaki carriage pulled into its appointed spot, and Jiraiya stepped out first, followed by his sons in order of age, and then Naruto. She drew in a breath, letting the cool evening air settle her nerves low in her belly, fighting the instinct to bite her lip. Debuting before the Queen had been nerve-wracking enough. Appearing before the entire ton was something else entirely. Tonight, it would not be only the Queen and a handful of prominent lords watching her. Mothers and fathers would be here, siblings of potential suitors, heirs, titled men, and even other marriageable young women, all observing her every movement, every smile, every misstep. 

Though the new gossip column had painted her favorably, it had also cast her more firmly into the spotlight than she ever wanted. Being named the Queen’s Diamond had already been more than enough attention. She hadn’t asked for that honor, if she could even call it that, but she would handle it the only way she knew how—on her own terms. 

They had arrived after most of the lords and ladies, yet still before the Queen. It was deliberate, so when she entered, there would be no crowd to hide behind. All eyes would be on her. 

Yamato took her arm, leading her forward for the evening. Naruto smiled up at him, and he returned it. Inside, she was guided to a small table where pearl bracelets awaited, each holding a lady’s dance card, along with delicate fans. Naruto selected one and flicked it open, fanning herself lightly. Obito raised an eyebrow at her, and she grinned at him, unabashed and mischievous. The doors to the Tōji ballroom stood just to their right. Naruto paused before them, tugging Yamato to a stop. Her family turned toward her, and her father lifted a hand, signaling the herald to wait. 

“Go on before me,” she nodded, releasing Yamato’s arm. “I wish to walk down the steps on my own.” 

Jiraiya studied her for a moment. “Are you sure, darling?” 

She nodded, gesturing for him to proceed. With a small incline of his head, he signaled the herald. 

“Viscount Jiraiya Uzumaki,” the herald announced, his voice carrying into the ballroom, “accompanied by his sons, Heir Kakashi Uzumaki, Mr. Yamato Uzumaki, and Mr. Obito Uzumaki and daughter, Miss Naruto Uzumaki.” 

Her father and brothers descended first. Naruto waited a heartbeat longer before she opened her fan and stepped forward. As she descended the staircase, a soft smile graced her lips, her gaze lifting to sweep the room. The music stilled as conversation hushed and heads turned from every corner of the ballroom. She caught sight of Prince Gaara, standing tall and unmistakable in rich crimson, and Sasuke, dressed in all black, nearby. Hinata stood along the wall, smiling at her.  

She also caught sight of a tall head of blond hair. It was Minato. Naruto looked away before their eyes could meet, feigning interest elsewhere as her fan fluttered lightly in her hand. Her brothers watched her descend with barely concealed pride as she stepped off the final stair and made her way toward the refreshments. She gave them a subtle nod (leave me be, for now). They would, but she knew they would keep her within their sights all night. 

Gaara wasted no time in approaching her, reaching the refreshment table just as she arrived. “Allow me, my lady.” 

His deep voice startled her slightly, and Naruto turned to find him already lifting a glass of champagne, placing it into her hand. 

“Thank you, my lord,” she said, offering a small curtsy. “How are you this evening?” 

“Better now that you are here,” he replied smoothly. Naruto felt warmth rise to her cheeks. Gaara Sabaku was, without a doubt, dangerously charming. “And you?” 

“I am wonderful, thank you,” she said, taking a small sip as he guided them a step away from the table. They spoke about the evening, the music, and soon enough, the little booklet he had gifted her. When she admitted she had already read it twice, Gaara laughed. “I had hoped you might like it.”

“Like it?” she smiled. “I found it fascinating.” 

After a few moments, their conversation shifted.

“So, tell me about your family. Do you have any siblings?” 

“I do,” Gaara replied. “An older sister, Temari, and an older brother, Kankurō.” 

“But you are next in line for the throne?” she questioned, brow furrowing slightly. 

“Yes. Our title is patriarchal, of course, but my brother chose to relinquish his claim. His passion lies in art, and he knew ruling would leave him little time for it.” He shrugged lightly. “I, however, found my place in politics and in dealing with arrogant lords. It was an easy choice for my father.” 

Naruto laughed softly. “I find I can endure arrogant lords as well, provided I am allowed to silence them quickly.” 

“A method I frequently employ,” Gaara’s lips curved into a knowing smile.

“And your mother?” Naruto asked, noticing his omission. 

“She passed after giving birth to me,” he said, his expression remaining calm. 

Naruto turned toward him, her eyes softening. “My mother passed the same way, giving birth to my youngest brother, Menma.” She dipped her head. “I grieve with thee.” 

Gaara reached out, lifting her chin briefly before letting his hand fall away. “We have more in common than I could have hoped for, my lady,” he murmured. 

“It appears so,” Naruto replied, smiling. She lifted her hand, the pearl bracelet and dance card dangling from her wrist. “Would you care to sign my card, my lord?” 

His smile deepened as he took the pencil, signing his name with a flourish. “Until then,” Gaara said, bowing. Naruto curtsied in return, watching as he stepped away. Soon after Gaara left, Sasuke approached her. 

“Sasuke! I wondered when I would run into you.” 

He hummed in response, bowing politely before offering his arm. Naruto slipped hers through it happily.

“Have you had a chance to try any of the food?” he asked. She shook her head, and he led her toward the left wall, where a long table was laden with small sandwiches, cakes, and sweets of every kind. 

“What catches your eye?” he asked. 

Naruto scanned the display until her gaze landed on a section of chocolates. “Oh, those look good.” 

“Of course, you go for chocolate,” Sasuke remarked dryly, though he reached for a small plate holding a variety and selected a few. Naruto took one, popping it into her mouth and letting it melt on her tongue. 

“Oh my goodness,” she said, eyes lighting up. “This is the best chocolate I’ve ever had.” Sasuke watched her in mild disgust.

“You still dislike sweets, then?” she laughed. 

“I…” he hesitated. “I could be persuaded to try one.” 

“Oh?” She arched a brow at him. 

“Pick one for me.” 

She squinted up at him before examining the plate. After a moment, she chose a darker piece, sure it would be rich dark chocolate. “Here.” 

He took it from her fingers and placed it into his mouth, letting it melt before swallowing. “Good choice,” he said at last. Naruto let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. 

“Now let me choose one for you,” Sasuke requested, selecting a piece that looked unassuming. 

Naruto took it and smiled as the soft, gooey center surprised her. “It’s good!” 

The corner of Sasuke’s mouth twitched into a smile. When she reached for her drink, Naruto realized her glass was nearly empty. Sasuke noticed too and guided her back toward the refreshment table. She chose water this time, sipping gratefully. 

“Perhaps I might sign your dance card?” he asked. 

She smiled and handed it over. “I’m surprised you can dance at all,” she teased. Color rose to his cheeks, undoubtedly remembering the ridiculous moves they’d attempted as children. 

“I assure you,” he responded stiffly, “my dancing has improved considerably since then.” He signed his name neatly, bowed, and stepped away, leaving Naruto giggling after him. 

Kakashi approached her when she found herself circling the room, offering smiles to the lords who had already called on her. She endured a group of whispering young ladies as well, her pleasant expression fading when they made a thinly veiled comment about her walking alone. She responded sweetly that she noticed none of them had managed to secure company either. They fell silent immediately. 

Kakashi appeared at her side not a moment later. His smile was easy, his grey eyes warm as they swept over her. “Sister, are you enjoying yourself?” 

“I am,” Naruto replied honestly. “And you’ll be pleased to know I already have two names on my card.” She lifted it for him to see. 

Kakashi glanced down, reading the names. “I expected as much. Those two were the most respectful and the most attentive.” 

“Yes, they were.”

“Well, be sure to save a dance for me.” 

“I will!” she giggled, stepping away before he could say anything else. She wandered again, waiting for the dancing to begin, handing her empty glass to a passing servant with a nod. Her shoulders had just begun to loosen when a familiar, unwelcome voice spoke from behind her. 

“Hello, Miss Uzumaki.” 

Her spine stiffened, and she turned slowly. “Lord Danzo,” she greeted, dipping her head just enough to remain polite. His single visible eye swept over her, making her skin crawl. 

“My,” he leered, “you have grown even more beautiful than I ever imagined.” 

Naruto forced a smile, her jaw tightening. “Thank you.” 

'Keep your mouth shut,' she told herself. 'Do not snap. Do not draw attention.' 

“You know,” Danzo continued, stepping closer, “I always knew you were special. From the moment I first laid eyes on you.” He chuckled softly. “You were only a child then… but even so, I found myself quite captivated.” 

Her stomach churned, and Naruto took a step back, increasing the space between them, but he followed just as easily.

“I could take care of you. If you were agreeable, I would speak to your father tonight and request your hand.” 

“No,” Naruto objected. “Thank you, but I am not ready for such a thing.” 

Danzo’s smile thinned. “You misunderstand. Soon, these other men will lose interest; they always do. So why delay the inevitable?” His eye narrowed. “I know what you need.” 

That was enough. Naruto turned and moved through the crowd, her pulse pounding in her ears. She could hear his footsteps behind her, his voice calling her name through the crowd. 

“Naruto!” 

She searched desperately for silver hair, for dark curls, for any familiar face, but the ballroom had grown crowded. 

“Naruto,” Danzo called again, closer this time, and his hand clamped around her arm. She gasped, panic flaring white-hot as she twisted hard, wrenching herself free. The force sent her stumbling backward, straight into a solid chest. Strong arms caught her before she could fall. Naruto sucked in a breath and looked up, meeting the unmistakable blue eyes of Minato Namikaze. 

For a moment, the world slowed. The music dulled, the murmurs of the ballroom fading until there was only the steady thrum of Naruto’s heartbeat and the warmth of the man holding her upright. Minato’s arms tightened around her waist before he set her back on her feet, though he did not step away. 

She opened her mouth to thank him, or to tell him to fuck off. She wasn’t quite sure which would come out, as she never got the chance. 

“Ah, Miss Uzumaki,” Lord Danzo’s voice slithered in from behind her. “My apologies. It was not my intention to grip you so tightly that you nearly fell.” 

Naruto turned, scowling openly now, her patience well and truly gone. 

“Lord Danzo,” another voice cut in. “It has been some time.” 

Minato stepped closer, positioning himself just behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat of him at her back. The unfamiliar closeness sent a shiver down her spine, one she despised herself for. His voice was deeper than she remembered, richer.

Danzo’s eye flickered to Minato, his smile tightening at the edges. “Mr. Namikaze,” he greeted stiffly. “A pleasure.” 

Minato tilted his head, his answering grin polite in the way predators were, baring his teeth. “It’s Duke now, actually. So 'my lord' or 'your grace' will suffice.” 

Danzo flushed, his lips thinning further in humiliation. Naruto felt a thrill run through her at the sight. 

“Apologies,” Danzo muttered. Then, pointedly ignoring Minato, he turned his attention back to her. “Miss Uzumaki, I wished to speak with you alone, if you would.” He gestured for her to step forward. Naruto did the opposite, stepping back closer to Minato, her shoulder brushing his chest. She felt him freeze before he squared himself behind her. 

“I fear that will not be possible,” Minato chirped.

Danzo’s jaw clenched. “Naruto,” he pressed, “perhaps you would care to share a moment alone with me? We could even share your first dance.” 

The audacity of it made her blood boil. She drew breath to tear into him, but Minato spoke first. 

“You misunderstand me, Lord Danzo,” he replied coolly. “Naruto will not be sharing another moment with you tonight. She is otherwise preoccupied.” 

"With what?” Danzo snapped

Minato’s hand closed around Naruto’s. “With me, of course.” Then he swept her away. The first notes of music swelled through the ballroom as he guided her toward the dance floor. He took a step back and bowed. After a heartbeat’s hesitation, she curtsied. When he extended his hand, she took it, and they began to dance. The steps were traditional, yet everything about this felt wrong. Her pulse thundered as they moved in silence, his hand at her waist, guiding her through a turn. 

“He’s gone,” Minato murmured after a spin, his lips close enough that she felt the words more than heard them. Naruto exhaled shakily, scanning the crowd until she was certain Danzo had vanished. Relief washed through her, leaving her lightheaded. 

“I suppose I owe you a thank you.” 

Minato chuckled under his breath. “Perhaps, but this dance is pleasant enough compensation.” 

She frowned and looked away, only to find her gaze drawn right back to him. It was infuriating, how impossible it was not to look. Lady Whistledown had not exaggerated. If anything, she had understated it. Minato had become even more handsome in his maturity, the sharp planes of his face even more pronounced than they were as a teen. His blonde hair was styled neatly, falling around his face and jaw in the way he liked, and the deep blue of his coat and crisp white shirt did nothing to hide the powerful build beneath. His form was even larger than before. Last she had seen him, he had been tall and lean, only just on the cusp of adulthood at 19. Now he had thickened out, his shoulders broad with the muscles to match.  

'So that’s why he felt like a brick wall,' she thought. 

“How have you been, Naruto?” he asked softly. Her jaw clenched at the sound of her name on his lips. 

“Well enough,” she said after a beat. “And you, your grace?” 

“Busy,” he stated. “And please, drop the honorifics. It’s always been strange hearing them from you.” 

“I’m afraid that wouldn’t be appropriate.” 

“And why not?” His eyebrow arched. 

“Because,” she replied coolly, “I don’t believe you’d appreciate what I would actually like to call you instead.” She added, almost as an afterthought, “My lord.” 

Minato barked out a startled laugh, spinning her effortlessly before drawing her back in. “Is that so?” he asked, grinning down at her. Naruto rolled her eyes, and he let out an exaggerated gasp. “Rolling your eyes at a Duke. I could have you thrown out for such disrespect, you know?” 

“You could,” she scoffed, “but you won’t.” 

“No?”

“You enjoy our banter too much,” she replied, chin lifting. “The ball would be dreadfully boring without me.” 

“Hm.” His mouth twitched. “You may be right. These other debutantes are terribly dull, and if I hear another lord jest about his wife and confess, far too proudly, that he keeps a mistress, I may very well implode.” 

“Well, I could never be boring. For one, I’m not trying to impress you. The other ladies are vying desperately for your attention; I have no need of it.” She met his gaze, unflinching. “And for another, perhaps it says more about you than the company you keep that such men feel comfortable whining about the women they chose to marry.” 

“Are you attempting to imply something about my character, Miss Uzumaki?” Minato smirked.

“Oh no,” she said sweetly. “Not imply, my lord. I’m stating quite clearly what I think of your person.” 

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” 

The music slowed, the final notes pulsing in the air as the dance came to its end. He’d said it quietly, almost to himself, but she heard him, and her smile vanished. “I’ve changed,” she stated. 

His expression shifted, something unreadable crossing his eyes. “Well,” he said after a beat, bowing, “I look forward to learning these changes.” 

She curtsied, and then he was gone, leaving Naruto standing alone on the edge of the dance floor, pulse too fast, heart far too loud. 

'Like hell would he ever get to know her at all.' 

Before she could step off the dance floor, Naruto caught sight of Gaara making his way toward her. She drew in a slow breath, forcing the storm Minato had stirred inside her back down where it belonged. By the time Gaara bowed before her, offering his hand, a bright smile had already settled on her face. 

Dancing with Gaara was pleasant, but her mind betrayed her, slipping back to Minato, to the way he had caught her, the way he had protected her against Danzo, and to the way his hand had felt at her waist as they moved across the floor. It didn’t make sense. Minato hated her; he had made that very clear years ago. He had looked at her like she was shameful, something beneath him. So why had he stepped in so easily? Why had he danced with her like… like that? 

Had his opinion changed so quickly just because the Queen approved of her now? The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth and a crushing weight in her chest that she refused to examine too closely. Naruto pushed the feelings aside, turning her full attention back to Gaara just as the music came to an end. 

“Perhaps I might call on you again,” he said, bowing low. “I would be honored to escort you on a walk through the square and share a meal, if you would allow it.” 

"I would enjoy that very much, my lord.” She curtsied.

Gaara’s eyes softened, and he took his leave. No sooner had he stepped away than Naruto was claimed for another dance, this time by Sasuke, who, true to his word, was far more capable on the dance floor than he had ever been as a boy. 

“Do you think,” Naruto said with a mischievous grin as they moved into step, “we could still attempt that move where I run at you, and you lift me over your head?” 

Sasuke shot her a horrified look. “You cannot be serious.” 

“Oh, come now. Some of these stuffy lords and ladies could use a proper shock,” She giggled.

“I think we would give them heart failure,” he replied dryly. 

“All the more reason,” she whispered conspiratorially as they turned. Sasuke huffed out a laugh. As he spun her, Naruto’s gaze drifted and caught on a familiar figure across the ballroom. Minato wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular, nor was he smiling. He was simply watching her. His blue eyes were darker than before, his expression unreadable. Naruto gasped softly as the turn carried her away, and she found herself back in Sasuke’s arms, her heart suddenly racing for an entirely different reason. 

“I would like to take you on that walk tomorrow,” Sasuke said. “If you are agreeable.” 

Naruto forced her focus back to him. “Yes, I would like that. After breakfast?” 

He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I will call on you then. Though I suspect at least one of your brothers will insist on acting as chaperone.” 

“I would not be surprised if the entire household decided to follow us,” Naruto said, rolling her eyes.

Sasuke glanced past her shoulder toward where one of her brothers stood, very pointedly ignoring a cluster of hopeful young ladies attempting to catch his attention. “They are very protective of you,” he observed. 

“They’ve made it their personal mission to abandon all other responsibilities this season to keep watch over me. It warms my heart as much as it irritates me.” 

“It wasn’t long ago the ton dismissed you, now men are lining up at your door. I can understand their vigilance.” 

The music slowed, then ended. Sasuke released her hand, bowing properly. Naruto curtsied in return, offering him a fond smile. “Until tomorrow, then.” 

Naruto made one last slow circuit of the ballroom before leaving, offering the Queen a graceful bow as she passed. Queen Tsunade’s lips curved into a knowing smirk, her amber eyes glinting with amusement as she gave Naruto the slightest nod in return. Naruto didn’t linger; the night had drained her more than she’d realized. 

She finally located her father near the edge of the room, deep in conversation with a portly lord who looked relieved when Naruto approached. 

“Father,” she called, touching his sleeve. “I would like to return home now.” 

“Of course, my darling.” 

It took only a few minutes to gather her brothers, and soon the Uzumaki family carriage was rolling through the streets toward home. The quiet lasted all of thirty seconds. 

“So,” Obito began, leaning back with his arms crossed, “care to explain why I saw you and Minato sharing a rather… close dance tonight? I thought the two of you could barely stand to be in the same room.” 

“It did look like you were enjoying each other’s company rather well.” Yamato’s lips twitched. Kakashi didn’t join in on the teasing. His jaw was tight, eyes narrowed in budding anger.

“It wasn’t what it looked like,” she implored.

“I have eyes, Naruto,” Kakashi gritted out. “You barely looked at anyone else while you were dancing with him.” 

Naruto sighed; she had known this would come. “Minato stepped in during a… tense situation,” she explained. “I was showing my gratitude, that’s all.” 

Every man in the carriage straightened instantly. 

“A tense situation, darling?” Jiraiya asked, frowning deeply. Naruto reached down and slowly slid the glove from her left arm. A dark, hand-shaped bruise bloomed along her skin. Kakashi moved first, taking her arm with extreme care. His fingers were trembling despite how gently he held her. 

“Who the hell,” Obito hissed, his voice thick with barely restrained rage, “did that?” 

“Lord Danzo,” Naruto spat, turning her face away, fury and disgust twisting in her chest. “The things he said to me…” She shivered. “They were disturbing.” 

“I’ll kill him,” Kakashi breathed.

Jiraiya put a firm hand on his eldest son’s shoulder. “Not tonight,” he said, though his own eyes were dark. “We handle this properly.” 

After a tense moment, he looked back at Naruto. “How does Minato factor into this?” 

“Danzo followed me after I tried to leave our...conversation,” she sneered. “I was trying to find you, but the crowd had grown thick. When he grabbed me, I jerked away and stumbled into Minato, and he saw how uncomfortable I was. Minato stepped between us, and Danzo backed off after that. To make sure he stayed away… Minato led me into a dance. That was all.” 

Kakashi searched her face. “He didn’t try to proposition you?” Relief entered in his eyes, but so did suspicion. 

“No, Kashi,” she said softly. “He was… respectful.” The word tasted strange. “As much as I hate to admit it, he helped me. Any proper lord would have done the same, especially given his friendship with you.” 

That seemed to settle most of them. Obito leaned back again, still fuming. Jiraiya’s jaw remained tight, but he gave her knee a reassuring squeeze. Only Yamato didn’t fully relax. Naruto felt his gaze on her, seeing too much as always. She looked away, turning her attention to the passing streetlamps beyond the carriage window. How could she possibly tell them the truth? 

How could she admit that Minato Namikaze, their friend, the boy she had sworn to hate, had left her shaken in an entirely different way? That when he held her, she hadn’t felt trapped… she had felt safe. That his voice near her ear had sent warmth down her spine instead of dread.

That she had spent half her dance with Gaara wondering what Minato was thinking, and the other half trying to stop caring. 

No. 

That confusion was hers alone, and she had no intention of letting her brothers see just how deeply the night had unsettled her. 

The next morning, Naruto found herself waiting in the receiving room for Mr. Sasuke Uchiha. 

She wore a light green day dress, the color bringing out the brightness of her eyes. Long gloves concealed the bruise still marring her arm, and for once, her hair had been left loose. Golden strands fell all the way to her hips, brushed until they shone, and curled at the ends. A white shawl rested around her arms. By the door stood a matching parasol to shield her from the sun, though Naruto had no intention of using it. She loved the sun, loved feeling it soak into her skin. 

A servant entered, and Naruto turned with a ready smile and froze.

“Duke Minato Namikaze, my lords, my lady,” the servant announced before retreating. Kakashi shot to his feet.

“Minato… to what do we owe the pleasure?” he asked, his surprise as clear as day. Minato stepped forward, greeting each of the brothers with nods before clasping Kakashi’s hand.

“I came to see if you might attend a gathering with me this evening, my friend.”

“A gathering?” Yamato asked, already grinning. “Let me guess… this wouldn’t happen to involve that new gentleman’s club that opened last month?” 

“The very same,” Minato admitted with a smirk. “The owner is an old acquaintance of mine. I may have contributed a rather generous sum when he brought the idea to me.” 

“I would be delighted!” Kakashi laughed. Then his expression shifted, turning more serious. “And it seems we owe you our thanks as well.” 

Minato blinked. “Your thanks? For what?” 

“Naruto told us about the incident last night,” Obito said, nodding toward Naruto, who stood by the window. Minato’s gaze flicked to her before he could stop himself. She glanced over her shoulder as he did, and their eyes met. He forced himself to look away. “And she told us how you stepped in. We owe you one, truly.” 

“It was nothing. In a less crowded hall, I suspect Naruto could have handled the man herself.” 

“Perhaps,” Kakashi nodded, gripping Minato’s shoulder, “but she couldn’t, not with all eyes on her. So thank you.” 

Minato inclined his head to the silver-haired man. “And how are you today, Miss Uzumaki?” he called to her, his voice warmer than it had any right to be. 

Naruto tightened her hold on her shawl before turning toward him and taking a few steps closer. “I am well. Thank you for asking.” 

Minato hummed, clasping his hands behind his back as his eyes took her in. Gods, he wanted to reach out to her, to tuck her hair behind her ear, to trace the line of her cheek, to pull her close and breathe her in. Instead, he stayed exactly where he was. 

“Would it be presumptuous of me to assume you have a...plan regarding Lord Danzo?” 

“Your assumption would be correct, your grace.” Naruto’s lips curved into a sly smile. Minato’s answering grin came easily.

'There she is,' he thought. 'That’s my girl.' 

“Well then, I would be honored to lend my assistance. I hear the backing of a Duke can be… persuasive.” 

“I’ll remember that, though you may regret offering.” Naruto tilted her head.

“I highly doubt that,” Minato replied, his tone darkening. “ Lord Danzo insulted me as well. It's no wonder my father refused dealings with him. Why he thought it appropriate to approach you that way is beyond me.” 

“He told me he had been captivated by me… even as a child.” Her lip curled as she shuddered. “And that the men would grow bored of me soon, so I should just accept his offer before I lost all prospects.” 

Something in Minato snapped tight when she finished talking. His jaw clenched, and his shoulders flexed beneath his jacket. Naruto noticed the change, the reaction sending a confusing tingle coursing through her.

A throat cleared loudly. Naruto jumped, turning to find her father watching with poorly disguised amusement. Kakashi looked troubled, Yamato was openly entertained, and Obito looked like someone had just told him the world was ending. Before anyone could speak, the servant returned. 

“Mr. Sasuke Uchiha, my lords, my lady.” 

Sasuke entered, bowing to Jiraiya and the brothers before turning to Naruto. “Naruto.” He greeted, extending his hand. She turned briefly toward Minato, finding that he was already looking at her, his expression shuttered now. Naruto stepped forward, allowing Sasuke to lift her knuckles to his lips.

“Are you ready for our walk?” he inquired.

“I am,” she replied, slipping her arm into his, allowing him to lead her from the room. She looked back at her brothers, raising an eyebrow. Chaos erupted instantly. 

“I’ll come—”

“No, I am—”

“I’m the eldest!” 

Even Sakumo and Menma burst from deeper in the house, declaring loudly that they, too, would be accompanying her. Naruto groaned softly and shared a knowing look with Sasuke. In the commotion, she risked one glance behind her. Minato stood at the far end of the hall, watching. Their eyes met again, and this time she looked away first. 

The argument grew louder until Naruto stopped short, forcing Sasuke to pause as well. “All right,” she said through gritted teeth. “Compromise.” 

The brothers froze before her.

“You may all follow us out,” she said, lifting one finger, “but do not crowd around us.” 

They nodded immediately, smiling sheepishly. Her father just shook his head. The doorman opened the door, and Sasuke guided her outside, her parasol dangling unused from his arm as sunlight spilled warmly over them. As they walked, Naruto faintly heard Kakashi’s voice behind them. 

“…Minato, why don’t you join us?” 

Her foot caught on nothing at all, and she stumbled. Sasuke’s hand tightened around hers, steadying her. He gave her an amused sidelong look. 

“The ground was uneven,” she sniffed, eyes forward. He chuckled but didn’t argue. The silence that followed was… nice. The sun was bright, and the sky was clear. Naruto smiled at passing ladies and gentlemen, waving when a small child pointed at her in excitement. 

“Do you remember,” Sasuke asked, “how we used to swear we’d travel the world when we were children?” 

“Yes. We even stole one of Father’s maps and drew out our grand journey in red ink.” Naruto laughed fondly.

“You insisted we would sail across every ocean,” he added. Her lips twitched as childhood memories washed over her. 

“It has been offered to me,” he said after a moment, “to join an expedition next year.” 

He slowed, then stopped walking, turning to face her. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her brothers trailing far enough back that they couldn’t hear. Minato stood beside Kakashi, deep in conversation, but his gaze lifted the second she moved. She looked away quickly, back to Sasuke. 

“Oh… that’s wonderful,” she said. “Where would you be going?” 

“America.” 

Her jaw dropped. “Really? Oh, I’m so jealous!” 

"The reason I tell you now is that if… things between us progress, I would want you to come with me.” 

“To America?” she whispered. He stepped a little closer.

“If you accepted my hand one day,” he said, “I would not leave you behind while I chased adventure. You have always had a restless spirit, Naruto, perhaps even more than I do. My status allows me to travel with relative safety. It would be far more difficult for you alone. I would be… very glad to have you at my side.” 

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Naruto stared at him, stunned. 

“That’s all right,” he replied. “I only wanted you to know my intentions. I did not wish to spring something so large on you later.” 

He began walking again, and she followed automatically, but her thoughts were no longer on the sunny street. 

America. 

The voyage alone would take months. Months at sea, then months in a foreign land with unknown cities, unknown dangers, and unknown people. And what if he chose to stay? Her stomach twisted. Would she be expected to remain there? To build a life an ocean away from everyone she loved? From her brothers? From her father?

She had always wanted to travel, but she had never imagined doing it without the promise of returning home whenever she pleased. Then another thought struck her. 

Gaara…he was a prince, a future king. Suna was closer than America, yes, but it was still weeks of travel. And if she married him, she would one day be queen. A queen did not simply leave her kingdom to visit her childhood home whenever she felt like it. 

Was she ready to belong somewhere else more than she belonged here? Naruto worried her lip. She had known things would change when she agreed to enter the marriage mart, but she had imagined local lords, heirs with estates a day’s carriage ride away. Men who wouldn’t blink if she disappeared home for weeks at a time. 

She hadn't expected princes or expeditions across oceans, and she definitely did not expect futures that pulled her farther and farther from the people who had built her whole world. Sasuke had given her far more to think about than he probably realized. 

They wandered a while longer before Naruto suddenly veered toward a dessert stall in the small pop-up market in the town square, dragging a reluctant Sasuke with her by the sleeve. Sugar always made her feel better. Her brothers followed, of course, forming a loose line behind her like an overly protective parade. Minato lingered close as well, near the back of the line.

“I see a chocolate cake calling Naruto’s name,” Obito laughed, bumping her shoulder. She pushed him back, huffing.

“I have range, thank you very much.” 

“The lemon pastry looks good,” Yamato noted thoughtfully. Soon, they were all debating options at once, voices overlapping until it was Naruto’s turn to order.

“I’ll have the strawberry tart, please,” she said sweetly, shooting a smug look over her shoulder. 

Ha, that showed them. Just because she loved chocolate didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy other things. 

“A fine choice, my lady,” the vendor said. “The cream inside is my personal favorite.” 

Sasuke stepped forward and paid before she could protest, earning him a bright, grateful smile. Her father and brothers bought their own treats, and even Minato selected something, though Naruto didn’t look long enough to see what he had gotten. They gathered in a small circle on the grass nearby, and Naruto wasted no time taking a bite. The pastry crumbled perfectly, sweet strawberries and cream melting on her tongue. She let out a soft, involuntary sound of delight. “It’s delicious,” she declared. 

“I agree,” Sakumo said through a mouthful. “We’re stopping here again on the way back.” 

Naruto laughed, finishing the last bite of her tart with regret. She noticed that a bit of cream clung to her finger and, without thinking, she lifted her hand to her mouth. At the same time, her eyes lifted, meeting cool blue across from her. She froze. Minato was watching her. He hadn’t taken a bite of his own pastry yet. In fact, his hand had stilled halfway to his mouth, blue eyes locked on her with such intensity that it made her pulse jump. 

Slowly, too aware of every movement, she licked the cream from her finger. His gaze darkened before he shoved his pastry into his mouth, looking away from her in a hurry.

Naruto’s heart slammed hard against her ribs. 

'What… was that?' 

That feeling from earlier, the one that made her breath come quicker, was back, and her skin buzzed. Why was Minato of all people causing this reaction in her? What did it mean? 

Minato watched the color rise in Naruto’s cheeks as she looked down, a faint crease forming between her brows. His blood was still running hot. She had no idea what she had just done to him. 

The moment replayed in his mind in excruciating detail, the way she’d lifted her hand absentmindedly, the small flick of her tongue as she cleaned the cream from her finger, the way her eyes had caught his right before she did it. It had felt like time slowed, like the entire world had faded until there was nothing but her. He’d frozen, utterly caught, pulse thundering in his ears. He practically had to shove the strawberry tart into his mouth to stop himself from saying something reckless. 

All he could think was that if he kissed her right then, her mouth would taste like strawberries and cream, the same flavor that now lingered on his tongue. He exhaled through his nose, trying to pull himself together. This had not been his intention today. 

Just that morning, he’d received a letter from his old friend Genma, proudly announcing the grand success of the new gentlemen’s club he’d opened. An invitation had followed, asking him to bring companions, enjoy the evening, and see what his investment helped build. Minato’s first thought had been Kakashi and Yamato. It was a harmless reason to visit the Uzumaki's, a safe reason. One that would not look like he was calling on Naruto. 

He had told himself that was all it was, but the truth had betrayed him the moment he’d stepped into that receiving room. The sight of her by the window, with a halo of light surrounding her, had nearly sent him to his knees. Naruto was far more dangerous to his self-control than he realized, and she had no idea. Four years apart had done nothing to dull what he felt for her. If anything, the distance had only sharpened it into something far more dangerous.

Last night’s dance had been torture and relief all at once. Holding her properly, chastely, had awakened every feeling he had tried to bury for years. Then watching other men line up for their turn had lit something ugly and possessive in his chest. Jealousy did not suit him…but he had felt it all the same. He had almost been grateful when she left the ball early, because he did not know how much longer he could have stood there pretending indifference while other men paraded themselves in front of her. 

And now… 

Now she stood only a few feet away, laughing with her brothers, sunlight in her hair, sugar on her lips, and Minato knew, with sinking certainty, that distance was no longer protecting either of them. 

It was only making him want her more. 

Sasuke escorted Naruto back to the townhouse a little while later, bowing respectfully to her father and brothers before taking his leave. Naruto watched him go with a sigh. 

She had enjoyed her time with Sasuke. His company was easy to be around, but talk of traveling to America had left her off-balance, her future suddenly stretching in a direction she had never considered. And now, layered over that, was the memory of Minato’s blue eyes darkening by the pastry stand. The two thoughts tangled in her chest, leaving her unsettled. 

She stepped into the family room and paused just inside. Yamato and Kakashi stood in conversation with Minato. Obito and Sakumo had vanished somewhere the moment they arrived home, and Menma was curled against their father on the couch, already half asleep. 

“I’m going to retire to my room,” Naruto said. “I would like to rest until dinner.” 

“Rest well, darling,” Jiraiya murmured, stroking Menma’s hair. “I’ll have a servant sent up to fetch you.” 

She smiled and nodded her thanks. “Have a good night tonight,” she added to her brothers. “And please be safe.” 

They would be leaving before dinner for the gentlemen’s club, so she likely wouldn’t see them again until tomorrow. Kakashi and Yamato both nodded, offering reassuring smiles. 

“I’m going to take my leave as well, gentlemen,” Minato said, shaking Kakashi’s and Yamato’s hands. “I will see you later.” He crossed the room to Jiraiya next, offering a respectful handshake before turning and finding Naruto only a few steps away, half-turned toward the hall. 

“Miss Uzumaki,” he murmured, dipping his head. 

“Your Grace,” she replied. He smiled; only Naruto could make 'your grace' sound like a thinly veiled insult. 

“After you,” he said, sweeping an arm toward the door. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but there was the slightest curve to her lips as she walked past him. He counted it as a win. He waited a moment, nodding once more to the men in the room. “Good day, gentlemen,” he added before following at a slower pace. 

Naruto turned right as she walked towards her rooms. Minato followed; the steps were in the same direction, after all. At the edge of the top steps, he stopped. This might be the only moment he had alone with her. If he did not speak now, he might never get another chance. He drew in a shaky breath.

"Naruto...” Her name left his lips softly, but it still made her pause. She stood facing away for a moment, her shoulders stiff, before she finally turned. He stepped away from the staircase and walked closer, close enough that she had to tilt her chin up to meet his eyes. "I… I never got the chance to apologize to you.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, frowning. 

“That night,” he breathed. “Four years ago.” 

Her jaw clenched, and she looked away. He was walking a razor’s edge now, and he knew it. He could not mess this up.

“I said a lot of cruel things to you that you did not deserve to hear,” he continued. “And for that, I am sorry. I have regretted it every day since.” 

He watched as surprise, anger, and hurt flashed across her face in quick succession. He still remembered the broken look on her face, the way her voice had cracked when she screamed that she hated him. 

“Why are you apologizing to me now?” she snapped, frustration flaring. 

“Because I couldn’t face you,” he admitted. “After what I said, and when I finally worked up the courage, every attempt I made to see you was shut down. Before I knew it… Years had passed.” 

Before he could stop himself, Minato lifted his hand. The backs of his fingers brushed gently along her cheek. She didn’t pull away; she just looked at him, eyes wide, searching. He was acutely aware that one of her brothers could step out at any moment. That a servant could walk past and see them standing far too close, but he didn’t care. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his touch. He traced her cheek once more before forcing himself to let his hand fall. 

“I know you must hate me, and you have every right to, but I want you to know that I never believed a word I said that night. I… I only said it to put distance between us.” 

“Why?” she whispered, eyes glassy. A sad smile curved his mouth. 

“Maybe one day I’ll tell you.” 

He took her hand, giving her time to pull away. When she didn't, he lifted it and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles, breathing her in before he released her and stepped back to a more respectful distance. With one last look, he turned and descended the stairs. Minato stepped out of the Uzumaki townhouse with his pulse still thundering in his ears. He had done it; he had finally apologized. 

The cool afternoon air did little to steady him as he descended the steps. He gave a short nod to his driver, who hurried to open the carriage door. Minato climbed inside, and only once the door shut did he allow himself to sag back against the seat. For a moment, he just breathed. Unconsciously, his fingers rose to his lips. He had kissed her hand. Such a small thing, and yet, the memory of it burned through him like fire; the softness of her skin, the warmth beneath his mouth, and the faint scent of lavender that clung to her.

He shut his eyes and exhaled through his nose, a shudder working through him. He had meant only to apologize, to bridge the gap between them before he lost the nerve, to begin to earn her forgiveness. But standing that close to her… Seeing her look at him not with hatred, but confusion…

Minato let his hand fall back into his lap, fingers curling into the fabric of his trousers. He could only hope the apology had not come too late. Hope that somehow, someway, Naruto might find it in her heart to forgive him. Hope she might allow him the chance to try to win her over. Because the alternative… 

His jaw tightened. He wasn’t sure he could survive watching her marry another man; seeing her on Sasuke’s arm that afternoon had been bad enough. The familiarity between them, the way Sasuke leaned in to speak to her, and the way Naruto laughed softly at something he said, had scraped something raw and ugly inside Minato. Just like the night before — watching her dance, her hand resting on another man’s shoulder, her skirts swaying as someone else guided her across the floor. Each time, jealousy had flared hot and vicious in his chest, so much so that he’d nearly turned and walked out. 

He muttered a curse under his breath. Kakashi had invited him along so casually, unaware he was sentencing his friend to slow torture by making him witness Naruto escorted by another man, and that wasn’t even the worst of it. Minato dragged a hand down his face. At some point, hopefully not soon, but inevitably, her brothers would learn of his intentions. Protective didn’t even begin to cover it. Minato had faced political rivals, negotiations, and men twice his size in prize matches without flinching, but the thought of sitting across from the Uzumaki brothers and declaring his desire to court their sister? 

That might be the most dangerous thing he’d ever attempt. 

Naruto waited and made sure every light in the townhouse had gone dark, every door shut, every brother safely in his room, before she moved. Only when the house had settled into silence did she push open her bedroom window. She swung one leg over the sill, then the other, gripping the edge before lowering herself onto the narrow stone ledge below. She dropped the rest of the way to the grass with a soft thud, wincing slightly as the impact jolted up her legs. 

She pulled her robe tighter around herself and exhaled. She needed someone to talk to. Not a brother who would threaten murder or her father, who would worry himself sick. She needed Hinata. 

Keeping low, Naruto slipped along the side of the house, pausing at the corner to scan the street. A carriage rattled far in the distance, but their road was quiet, lamplight dim and flickering. She darted across. The Hyuuga townhouse loomed above her as Naruto eased the gate open with painstaking care, wincing at the faint creak, then hurried along the back garden path toward the window she knew by heart. 

“Hinata,” she whisper-called. “Hinata…” 

There was no answer. Naruto groaned under her breath and looked around. Her gaze landed on a patch of decorative stones lining a flowerbed. “…Good thing I have great aim.” 

She scooped up a few small pebbles and tossed one gently at the window. 

Tap. 

Nothing. 

Another. 

Still nothing. By the fifth pebble, the curtains twitched, and the window finally slid open. Hinata blinked down at her, hair loose and sleep-tousled, eyes wide. “Naruto? What are you doing here?” 

Naruto’s shoulders sagged with relief. “I could really use a friend right now.” 

“I’ll be down in a moment,” Hinata said before she disappeared from the window, and Naruto sat on a nearby stone bench, bouncing her knee anxiously. She hadn’t realized how tightly wound she was until now. 

“Naruto,” came a soft voice behind her. She jumped to her feet and immediately pulled Hinata into a crushing hug.

“I’ve missed you so much.” 

“I’ve missed you, too. How have you been? I’m sorry we haven’t spoken much since the season started. My father…” She hesitated. “He’s not happy with how the ton has turned their attention onto you.” 

Naruto pulled back, guilt flickering across her face. “I hate to say this, but I agree with him. I never expected this much attention at all. I’m sorry if I’ve made it harder for you to find a match.” She took Hinata’s hands. “Truly.” 

Hinata squeezed back. “It’s fine, Naruto. It’s not your fault. And honestly…” She smiled shyly. “It’s given me time to focus. I can look for what I actually want instead of being overwhelmed trying to remember everyone’s names.” 

Naruto huffed a small laugh. Trust Hinata to find a silver lining. 

“Now tell me… why are you really here so late?” 

Naruto’s smile faded. She turned away, staring out at the moonlit garden. Her head still throbbed faintly, thoughts tangled and heavy. 

“I’m sure you read that paper,” she began. “Sasuke Uchiha and Prince Gaara Sabaku have made their intentions clear. And…” She swallowed. “I cannot say that I dislike either of them. They’re both good men."

Hinata nodded, listening intently. 

“But today,” Naruto continued, “something was revealed to me, and I don’t know how to feel.” 

“Tell me,” Hinata urged.

“Sasuke told me he’s been invited on an expedition to America. And that… if I accepted his hand in marriage, I would be welcomed to travel with him.” 

Hinata’s eyes widened.

“I’ve always wanted to travel,” Naruto whispered. “But now that it’s real… I’m scared. What if he wants to settle there? The journey alone would take months. I might never come home again. I might never see my family whenever I wish.” 

Tears welled despite her effort to stay composed. 

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Hinata prodded, and Naruto nodded.

“Thinking about that made me realize something about Gaara, too. He lives in Suna. It’s closer than America, but still pretty far, and if I marry him…” She gulped. “I would one day be queen. A queen cannot simply leave whenever she pleases to visit her family.” 

Hinata reached for her, and Naruto leaned into the embrace, tears finally slipping free. 

“But these are my best options,” Naruto whispered after a moment. “The other men are awful. They don’t see me at all. I promised I would try to find a good match, and I have, but why did it have to be two men who would take me away from home? I thought… I thought I’d find someone who lived close.” 

Hinata stroked her hair soothingly.

“And then there’s Minato,” Naruto grumbled.

“Duke Minato Namikaze?” Hinata stiffened.

“I tried to ignore him when I heard he was back, but I ran into him at the ball. We danced for a while. He was… kind, charming.” She shook her head. “And today he joined our walk, and he kept looking at me. Before he left, he apologized for that night four years ago.” 

“Naruto…”

“But it’s a trick, right?” Naruto interrupted quickly, almost desperately. “Minato has hated me since I was eleven. Now suddenly he wants to apologize? I think he just wants to try his hand at the Queen’s Diamond.” She scoffed. “Maybe it’s not about me at all, just his image.” 

“Do you really believe that?” Hinata studied her carefully.

Naruto hesitated. “If I don’t… the alternative is far more frightening. I’m not ready for that.” 

“I think you need to decide what you’re truly prepared for in a match." Hinata sighed. "If you consider Sasuke, you could be far from home, but did he say he wanted to settle in America? Or did your mind leap to the worst possible ending?” 

Naruto gave her friend a sheepish smile. 

“As for Prince Gaara,” Hinata continued, “I’ve heard Suna is beautiful. You would still have years before he becomes king and time to find ways to see your family. They could always visit you. I can’t imagine he wouldn’t welcome them.” 

“I… never thought of that.” 

“You’re afraid because things are changing,” Hinata pointed out. “But it’s okay to be afraid. Just don’t let fear stop you from choosing something that could make you happy.” 

“When did you get so wise?” 

Hinata giggled, then grew serious. “As for the Duke… I can’t tell you his heart, but I would say…give him a chance.” 

“A chance? Hinata, are you suggesting I let him court me?!” Naruto squawked, her eyes widening.

"No, silly. I’m saying you used to be friends, who’s to say you cannot be again? Maybe he wishes to clear the air between the two of you. His father passed recently…Responsibility changes people.” 

Naruto hummed. Maybe that was all it was, maybe he just wanted peace. Could she… try that? “What would I do without you, Hinata?” Naruto asked quietly. 

“I love you, Naruto. I only want what’s best for you…whatever that may be.”

They hugged again, longer this time, before Hinata slipped back inside. Naruto crossed the street once more, climbed back to her window, and tumbled into bed. Her thoughts were still tangled, but no longer suffocating. She would continue seeing Sasuke, continue learning about Gaara. She would ask questions and take her time. As for Minato… maybe being his friend again didn’t sound so terrible. 

Naruto drifted to sleep with the memory of a warm voice and dark blue eyes lingering in the quiet of her mind. 

On the other side of town, the night was just beginning at Genma’s newly opened gentlemen’s club, laughter and music drifting out into the street. Inside, smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling, glasses clinked, and men indulged in the kind of loud, careless merriment they never allowed themselves in polite society. 

Minato, Kakashi, and Yamato sat, several drinks in, around a circular table near the center of the room. A group of men nearby roared with laughter over a card game, while a pair of scantily dressed women wove between tables. Music pulsed softly from the far end of the hall, where a small stage had been set for the small band that played there. Genma himself had already stopped by once, clasping Minato’s shoulder and thanking him again for the generous donation that had helped bring the club to life. 

“I’ve got to say, my friend,” Kakashi muttered, leaning back in his chair as his eyes tracked a woman swaying past their table, “this night was much needed.” 

“Mmm, I agree,” Yamato said, grinning lazily at Kakashi’s very obvious appreciation. His words were beginning to slur, his posture loose. Minato only shook his head in amusement, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

“Being back in town has been more taxing than I anticipated,” he admitted. “Perhaps we all needed a night to unwind.” 

“Oh, is finding yourself surrounded by women vying for your favor so taxing, your grace?” Yamato teased. Kakashi barked a laugh. 

Minato groaned into his drink. “They’re a pack of bloodhounds, I tell you. I still don’t know how I managed to slip through unnoticed today while walking with your family during Naruto’s promenade with the Uchiha boy.” 

“They’re scared of Naruto.” Yamato snorted.

Minato blinked, then laughed outright. “Scared? Surely not.” 

“I think she punched a lady in the face when she was fifteen… no, sixteen,” Kakashi said, tapping his chin. “The girl trampled her favorite garden bed during one of the balls hosted at our townhouse.” 

“I think she broke her nose,” Yamato added thoughtfully. Minato laughed harder in response. Of course, Naruto had done that. Fierce and utterly unrepentant, she really was unlike anyone else. 

“Then perhaps I should use her presence to my advantage tomorrow at the grand picnic,” Minato mused. “If I stay near your family, I’ll be safe from the bloodhounds and their equally ruthless mothers.” 

Kakashi hummed but said nothing, leaning back with his drink. Yamato’s gaze drifted across the room, though his ears were still very much tuned in.

“Speaking of Naruto… what’s been going on with you two recently?” Kakashi finally blurted out.

Yamato groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Not this again, Kashi. Just leave it alone.” 

“I have a right to know,” Kakashi shot back, then turned toward Minato. 

Minato took a slow sip of his drink. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“You forget who you’re speaking to, old friend.” Kakashi’s eyes narrowed.

Minato sighed and set his glass down. He met Kakashi’s gaze evenly, though his pulse ticked faster. “Nothing has been going on, Kakashi. Naruto and I have simply decided to… behave around each other for once.” 

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Just… missing most of the truth. 

“Mm,” Kakashi said. “And this morning? Offering to help her deal with Danzo? That meant nothing?” 

“It meant,” Minato retorted, “that I was being sincere to my friend’s sister after she had a troubling encounter with a man who doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself.” 

Kakashi leaned back, observing him shrewdly. “I don’t believe you.” 

“Kakashi, seriously, drop it,” Yamato muttered, rubbing his face. “You’re turning this into something it’s not.” 

“Be quiet, Yamato. You’re drunk,” Kakashi snapped. 

“I’m barely buzzed,” Yamato slurred, which only proved Kakashi’s point. 

Minato folded his hands loosely on the table. “What exactly are you accusing me of, Kakashi?” 

“I’ve noticed your gaze lingering far too long on my sister. I see the way you gravitate toward her, and I’m not sure I’m supportive of it.” 

There it was, the line in the sand. Minato forced himself to stay relaxed, even as guilt and longing tangled in his chest. “I think you’re mistaken. Naruto amuses me, yes, but I do not view her in a romantic light.” 

The lie tasted bitter. He wasn’t even sure Naruto would want him to anyway.

“Good,” Kakashi said after a tense pause. “Keep it that way, and we won’t have any issues.” 

Yamato slapped Kakashi on the shoulder. “Ease up. You’re going to scare off every man who even breathes near her.” 

“That’s the idea,” Kakashi muttered. Yamato shot Minato an apologetic look over Kakashi’s shoulder. Minato gave a small shake of his head, his gaze saying it was fine. It wasn’t, of course, but he understood because if anyone looked at Naruto the way he did… 

He’d probably want to kill them, too. 

Hours later, the three men finally spilled out into the night air, the doors of the gentlemen’s club swinging shut behind them. Genma stood in the doorway, waving after them, calling out one last, “Don’t forget your promise, Your Grace!” before being dragged back inside by another round of patrons. 

Kakashi stumbled several paces ahead, weaving slightly as he squinted down the street. “Driver… where’sh the driver…” he muttered to himself, turning in a slow circle. Behind him, Yamato had thrown an arm heavily around Minato’s shoulders, nearly taking the Duke’s balance with him as Minato dragged them both forward. By now, they were well past pleasantly buzzed and deep into properly, regrettably drunk. 

“Minatoooo,” Yamato whispered loudly, which defeated the purpose of whispering entirely. “Stop…Stop walkin’ for a moment, if you will.” 

Minato halted immediately, bracing them both. “Do you need to vomit?” 

Yamato gasped, scandalized. “No! …Probably not.” He swayed, then giggled. He tried to place a steadying hand on Minato’s shoulder, but completely missed and smacked him squarely across the cheek. 

"Ow! What was that for?” 

“Your face got in the way!” Yamato burst into laughter. Minato rubbed the spot, muttering curses under his breath while Yamato finally managed to drape his hand properly over his shoulder. 

“I jusht… jusht wanted you to know…” Yamato began, squinting hard in concentration. “That I approve.” 

“You approve...of what exactly?” Minato blinked at him.

“Of you and Naruto, of course.” Yamato nodded sagely, nearly tipping over in the process. Minato went very still.

“I don’t follow,” he said lightly. 

“Come ooon,” Yamato slurred, giving his shoulder a clumsy shake. “I know you an’ I know my sisht-er. You think I haven’t seen the way you look at each other? And...and I remember how you two used to be...before everything went bad. You love her.” 

Minato glanced ahead. Kakashi had stopped walking and was now having a very serious conversation with a lamppost. Fantastic. 

“Yamato,” Minato inputted carefully, “perhaps you don’t recall in your current state, but Naruto hates me. We can barely stand to be in the same room most of the time.” 

“Mmm!” Yamato held up a wobbly finger. “Correct! Most of the time!” he shouted. 

“Shh!” Minato hissed, shooting another look toward Kakashi. The silver-haired man was now patting the lamppost. 

“All I’m sayin’,” Yamato continued, lowering his voice only slightly, “ish that when you two aren’t at each other’s throats…” He wiggled his fingers dramatically between them. “Sparks fly.” 

“Sparks,” Minato repeated flatly. 

“Yes! Sparks!” Yamato said, delighted with himself. “I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. An’ my eyes…” He leaned in very close, breath heavy with alcohol. “…never tell lies.” 

Minato couldn’t help as a small smile tugged at his mouth. “You are ridiculous…and belligerent. Let’s get you home.” 

He shifted Yamato’s weight and started them forward again, but Yamato wasn’t finished. 

“Jusht… remember what I said, Minatooo,” he mumbled into Minato’s jacket. “I approve. You’re good for each other. Like… like tea and honey. Or… or swords and… sword oil.” 

“That is not a saying,” Minato said, sniggering. They finally reached the carriage, and Kakashi had somehow found it and was already half inside, boots scraping clumsily against the step as he hauled himself in. He slumped against the window, eyes sliding shut. Minato helped maneuver Yamato up into the carriage next. The brunette collapsed onto the seat with a satisfied sigh, already drifting. Before closing the door, Minato leaned in close. 

“Thank you, Yamato,” he murmured. Yamato made a soft snoring sound in response. Minato shut the door and signaled the driver, watching as the carriage rolled away into the street, then he turned and stumbled toward his own waiting coach. The moment he sank back against the cushions inside, the night caught up with him all at once. His head tipped back, eyes closing as the carriage lurched into motion. Yamato’s words echoed in his mind. 

'You love her.' 

Minato dragged a hand down his face and groaned softly. “Gods help me.”

Tomorrow was going to be a very long day. 

Naruto awoke the next morning feeling lighter than she had that whole week. For once, her thoughts did not spiral. 

She took her breakfast in her room, perched by the window with a tray balanced across her lap. Fresh fruit, a slice of honeyed bread, and a small cup of tea disappeared quickly. She would need to begin dressing the moment she finished. Today would be long, and most of it spent outdoors. 

Once the tray was cleared, Naruto crossed to her wardrobe and selected a light purple gown. The fabric was embroidered with delicate lavender lace flowers that curled across the bodice and skirt in pretty patterns. It was one of her favorites. She would wear silver jewelry today, she decided. The cool tones would pair nicely with the dress. Already, warm air drifted in from the open window, brushing over her bare arms. If the morning heat was any indication, the day would be a hot one. She would have to dress as lightly as propriety allowed. 

By the time Naruto had set down her utensils, Riki had a bath ready for her. So all Naruto had to do was slip out of her nightgown and step into the water, which she did with a sigh, sinking until the warmth wrapped around her shoulders. 

She scrubbed mindfully, working the sweet-smelling soap into her skin. Riki busied herself with Naruto’s hair, working oil through the golden strands. Before long, Naruto stepped from the bath and wrapped herself in a towel, moving to stand before her vanity. Riki followed, clicking her tongue softly at the sight of Naruto’s damp, tangled hair. 

“My lady truly does treat her hair like a battlefield,” she muttered. 

Naruto grinned at her reflection. “It survives, doesn’t it?” 

Riki huffed but began brushing. Naruto pulled on a light robe and settled into the chair at her vanity, nodding for Riki to let the others in. The room filled with activity as a pair of maids tidied the room, straightening cushions and smoothing linens, while others gathered around to help Riki prepare her. Riki worked section by section, wrapping Naruto’s hair into rollers to coax curls. At the same time, Karin took her place at Naruto’s side with her cosmetics. 

“Light,” Naruto warned, catching Karin’s eye in the mirror. “I mean it.” 

“My lady never allows me to do anything interesting,” Karin sighed dramatically.

“Because last time you tried, I looked like a painted doll.” 

Grumbling under her breath, Karin complied, brushing only the faintest color across Naruto’s cheeks and lids, and a gloss over her lips. Another older maid warmed a bit of floral-scented lotion between her palms and began smoothing it over Naruto’s arms and shoulders. When she reached the fading bruise on Naruto’s arm, she paused with a disapproving tut. Karin was summoned again, and she blended powder over the mark until it was far less noticeable. 

The breeze from the window helped dry Naruto’s hair more quickly than usual. Soon, Riki removed the rollers, fingers moving deftly as she pinned the curls up into an elegant style. Most of the golden mass was secured neatly at the back of her head, but a few soft tendrils were left to frame her face and brush her ears and cheeks. Riki selected delicate silver hairpieces, small floral pins, and thin filigree combs, and slid them into place.

At last, the maids stepped back, and Naruto rose. It was time for the dress. Her undergarments were laced snugly into place, followed by her corset. Riki pulled the strings, shaping Naruto’s waist and posture. Then came the gown. The light purple fabric was lifted and drawn up over her. The bodice was tight, the lace flowers trailing downward across the skirt. The sleeves were short and slightly puffed, resting on her shoulders and allowing the warm air to reach her skin. 

When Riki fastened the final ties and smoothed the fabric into place, Naruto looked at herself in the mirror. “I’m ready,” Naruto announced brightly. The cluster of maids surrounding her dipped into little curtsies before one hurried ahead to open the door. Naruto stepped into the hallway, lifting her skirts slightly as she listened for signs of life from the rest of the house. 

Voices drifted up from the receiving room below, low, sluggish, and… distinctly miserable. Naruto’s smile widened. She took her time descending the staircase, enjoying the way the sunlight that spilled through the windows along the stairwell caught in her hair and along the silver in her dress as she moved. 

She swept into the receiving room cheerfully. “Good morning!” 

The reaction was immediate. Kakashi and Yamato both groaned in unison, each clutching his head as though physically wounded by the sound. 

“Please,” Yamato croaked, squinting at her as if she were the sun itself, “not so loud, sister. The light is already trying to murder my eyes.” 

Naruto paused mid-step, lips pursing in exaggerated sympathy. “Oh no,” she whispered dramatically, “whatever happened to you poor souls?” 

Kakashi muttered something unintelligible into his hands. Obito, sprawled sideways in a chair, lifted one finger weakly. “Bad decisions,” he rasped. 

After Kakashi and Yamato left for the gentleman’s club, their father had produced a bottle with a conspiratorial grin, claiming he was well within his rights to enjoy a drink in his own home. Obito had joined eagerly, Sakumo had been persuaded with ease, and one drink had very quickly turned into several.

Naruto floated past them, delighted, and leaned down to press a kiss to her father’s cheek. Jiraiya chuckled, though even he looked a touch more tired than usual. 

“Are you ready, Naruto?” he asked, giving her an approving once-over. “You look lovely today.” 

“Yes!” she said, nearly bouncing where she stood. “I cannot wait to see the field.” 

“Your happiness is suspicious,” Kakashi added, peeking at her through one eye. “No one should be this lively before noon.” 

“Of course I’m happy,” she said. “Today is about music and food.” She clasped her hands dramatically. “Truly, a perfect day.” 

Menma, seated cross-legged on the floor with a toy soldier in his hands, giggled. “I can't wait to try everything.” 

“You and me both,” Naruto said, pointing at him like co-conspirators. She turned back to the others. “And Gaara promised to have several dishes made that are unique to his homeland. I’m very excited to try them.” 

Yamato groaned again, this time rolling his head back against the couch. “Please do not talk about foreign food right now, my stomach is in negotiations with my throat.” 

“Well, I need to know if I like the food. It’s important.” Naruto laughed.

Sakumo, who had been leaning against the mantel, raised a brow. “Important how?” 

"How can I move to a kingdom and live there if I absolutely hate the food?” Naruto gasped in mock offense. 

Menma burst into delighted laughter, and Kakashi dropped his hands enough to stare at her. “You’re choosing a husband based on cuisine?” 

“Among other things,” she said primly. “But imagine being queen somewhere and dreading every meal. That is a tragedy I refuse to endure.” 

“A practical concern, I suppose.” Jiraiya hummed.

“Exactly,” Naruto said, nodding. “Romance is important, so is not starving in misery.” 

Obito let out a wheezy laugh that turned into a groan. “Please stop, I can’t laugh. My head might fall off.” 

Naruto beamed at the whole miserable lot of them, hands on her hips, sunlight warming her back. Hungover brothers, an amused father, a giggling little brother…

'It was,' she thought, 'a very good morning.' 

Naruto stepped down from the carriage and stopped short, a delighted gasp escaping her as she took in the sprawling green field and lake before her. Dozens of elegant tents dotted the landscape, their canvas tops fluttering gently. Some housed long tables overflowing with food from every corner of the kingdom, others were arranged like open-air gazebos where families could sit and eat, and further off, she could already see colorful banners marking areas set up for games.

The grand picnic was, without question, Naruto’s favorite event of the entire season. Her family climbed out behind her, all pausing to look around. Jiraiya pointed toward a large cream-and-gold tent near the center of the field. 

“That one’s ours,” he said. “Close to Her Majesty’s.” 

They made their way toward it, stopped more than once by passing lords and ladies offering bows and greetings. She caught sight of Sasuke across the way; he gave her a small nod, which she returned just as easily. Her eyes drifted farther and landed on Gaara seated beneath a tent, with a few guards stationed nearby. A blonde woman and a brown-haired young man sat with him, dressed just as finely. His siblings, she realized. 

Their own tent was spacious, all four sides tied back to let in the breeze. A long table stood at the center, already set with light refreshments. Naruto claimed a glass of water, drinking gratefully. 

“Good morning!” 

She turned at the familiar voice to find Minato standing just outside the entrance. He wore a deep blue suit, the coat fitted over a white shirt that stretched across his chest. Even dressed for the heat, he somehow looked entirely put together. Somewhere behind her, Kakashi and Yamato groaned in unison. 

“How are you not miserable right now?” Yamato grumbled. Minato chuckled as he stepped into the tent, surveying the slumped Uzumakis in amusement. Obito was half-asleep against the table, Sakumo looked dazed, and Jiraiya was pretending very hard to appear dignified. 

“My housemaid makes an excellent hangover cure,” Minato remarked. The chorus of pained complaints that followed only made him smile wider. His gaze slid to Naruto and softened. She looked radiant in the sunlight, all lavender silk and silver shimmer. 

“So,” Naruto said, hands on her hips, “who’s going to escort me around the field?” 

Kakashi dragged a hand down his face. “We just got here.” 

“And if we want the good food, we need to get it now,” she countered. Yamato looked faintly green, and Obito had given up entirely. Naruto sighed dramatically, pouting at the lot of them.

“If you are amenable, I will escort you, Naruto.” 

She turned, startled, not realizing Minato had moved closer. For a moment, she studied him, then she glanced at her father. Jiraiya, having observed everything, gave a lazy but approving wave. 

“Fine.” Naruto exhaled. She stepped out into the bright late-morning sun and waited. Minato joined her a heartbeat later, and together they began walking. 

“What would it take,” she asked, tilting her head toward him with a smile, “to convince you to share your housemaid’s miraculous hangover cure?” 

He snorted and offered his arm. She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. 

“Mm, I suppose I could be persuaded…” he said, mock-thoughtful. 

“Yes?” she prompted. 

“Grant me your first dance today, and I’ll have the recipe sent over tonight.” 

Naruto threw her head back and laughed, the silver in her hair catching the sunlight. “Is that all? I thought you were going to ask for my soul.” 

“Is that on offer as well?” he teased. 

She smacked his chest. “A dance it is, your grace.” 

He smiled down at her triumphantly. They strolled past a row of brightly decorated tents, slowing here and there to peer inside. Cheers drifted from one tent that held a ring-toss game, while the rich scent of roasted meats wafted from another. Naruto kept her eyes forward, but her fingers tightened where they rested against Minato’s sleeve. 

“So,” she began, “I’ve made my decision.” 

“On what?” Minato glanced down at her.

She paused beside a tent where children were attempting to knock down painted wooden pins. “About your apology yesterday.” 

He stopped walking at once. Without thinking, he guided her aside, out of the main path, and into the narrow shade between two tents. “And your conclusion?” he questioned, quieter and, despite himself, a little breathless. 

Naruto studied his face for a long moment, weighing him. “I… accept your apology,” she said at last. The change in him was immediate. His shoulders, which she hadn’t realized were tense, eased. A slow, almost disbelieving smile spread across his face, warmer than any she’d seen from him in years. “But,” she added quickly, lifting a finger, “I’m not so sure I forgive you completely just yet. We’ll need to work on that.” 

“Of course,” he acknowledged. “Anything…I’ll do anything.” 

“I realized I can’t keep holding onto that anger. Everything around me is about to change, and… I need to be able to let go of old grudges.” Naruto explained, eyes never leaving his. Minato listened to her intently. “I mean, that’s what you’re doing too, right? Clearing the air between us so you can focus on your own future?” 

“Yes… in a manner of speaking.” 

Her shoulders relaxed, relief slipping into her smile. “I hoped so. I was so worried you were only being cordial because the queen suddenly decided I was worth something, like everyone else.” She let out a small, self-conscious laugh. “But I spoke to a friend, and she made me realize I might be looking at it wrong. You’ve had so much responsibility thrown at you. Of course, you wouldn’t want to deal with your best friend’s little sister snapping at you every time you enter a room.” 

“Naruto…”

“So,” she went on, “let’s try to be friends again, like we were before. We both plan to be married by the end of the season, so there’s no point making things harder for each other.” 

“Right,” he said after a beat. “Friends.” 

Naruto believed his apology was about easing the old tension between them, about clearing the air before they both moved on with their separate futures. She had no idea he was hopelessly in love with her, that his apology had been spoken in the desperate hope of earning the chance to court her properly.

Minato nearly groaned aloud at the realization. Things had just become far more complicated. Now every kindness he showed her she would see it through the safe, distant lens of friendship. The romantic meaning behind it would fly right past her. Still… she had forgiven him, at least in part. That alone was more than he’d dared hope for. She no longer looked at him with hurt or anger. That, Minato decided, was a victory he could build on. 

“I am… pleased, Naruto,” he said finally, managing a small smile. “And I will do my very best to earn your full forgiveness.” 

She grinned back and slipped her arm through his again as they stepped back into the bustling walkway. They had barely gone a few paces before he added, casually, “I think I know where to start.” 

“Oh?” she giggled. “And what does that mean?” 

He didn’t answer right away, just guided her toward the next tent with a knowing look that made her suspicious. The moment they stepped inside, her suspicion vanished entirely. The space was filled with trays upon trays of chocolates — dark, milk, filled, dusted, shaped into delicate curls and neat squares. The rich, sweet scent wrapped around her like a hug. She gasped, letting go of his arm.

“Oh no… this is dangerous.” 

Minato laughed under his breath as she drifted forward, already reaching for a sample. Naruto popped one into her mouth, eyes widening almost comically as she froze mid-chew.

“Wait—” she mumbled, covering her mouth politely as she finished. “Is this mixed with oranges, sir?” she asked the attendant eagerly. 

“Yes, my lady,” the man said with a proud smile. “Orange-infused chocolate. It is quite popular in America at present.” 

Naruto turned back to Minato, scandalized and delighted all at once. “It’s so good!” 

Minato sampled one as well, thoughtful as he chewed. He gave a slow nod. “Mm, I see the appeal.” 

He was already reaching into his coat for his money pouch when she noticed. 

“Minato, you don’t need to buy it for me,” she protested, stepping closer. “I can have Father send someone back later. Besides, it would surely melt in this heat.” 

The attendant cleared his throat politely. “If I may, my lady, Your Grace, we offer home delivery for a small additional fee. The sweets will be packed in cooling boxes.” 

Naruto’s eyes lit up like a child’s. Minato saw it, and that was the end of the discussion. 

“How much for the orange-infused selection?” he asked. “I’ll take two dozen of those. And…” He scanned the labels. “A dozen dark chocolate squares, and half a dozen of the chocolate fudges.” 

“Minato.” 

He didn’t look at her. “And add a mixed assortment of whatever your most popular items are.” 

“Very good, Your Grace,” the attendant said, bowing slightly as he began packaging. 

Naruto folded her arms, though her smile betrayed her. “You don’t have to buy that many. Especially not for me.” 

Minato finally looked at her, expression warm but teasing. “I want to…and I fully expect you to share with me.” He lowered his voice. “Extensively.” 

Her cheeks warmed, and she huffed out a laugh. She tried, and failed, to hide her grin as he paid the man and gave the Uzumaki townhouse address for delivery. 

As they stepped back out into the sunlight, Naruto shook her head. “Bribing me with chocolate. Truly a low tactic, your grace.” 

“And yet,” he said, offering his arm again, “remarkably effective.” 

They wandered a little longer, pausing to look at different tents. Naruto was just laughing at a game stall where a noblewoman was dramatically failing to toss rings over wooden pegs when a familiar voice cut gently through the noise. 

“My lady.” 

Naruto turned, slipping her hand from Minato’s arm and dropping into a graceful curtsy. “My lord.” 

“Your Highness,” Minato bowed his head respectfully. Gaara inclined his head to them both before stepping closer. He took her offered hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. 

“I was hoping,” he said, “that I might steal you away for an early luncheon with my siblings. They are most eager to make your acquaintance.” 

“I would be delighted.” Naruto brightened. She glanced back at Minato, catching the way his jaw tightened before he smoothed his expression into something much more pleasant.

“I will inform your family, Miss Uzumaki,” Minato said evenly, stepping back. “I hope to see you again before the day is over.” He bowed and turned away before she could answer. 

Naruto frowned faintly, watching the rigid set of his shoulders as he disappeared into the crowd. Something about the way he walked off left an odd tug in her chest. She shook it away and turned back to Gaara, who was already offering his arm. She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. 

“How are you today, Naruto?” he asked as they began toward the royal tents. 

“I’m in a surprisingly good mood,” she admitted. “I think it has to do with today’s event. It has been my favorite by far." 

“I can see why,” Gaara nodded. “It is lively.” 

“And you?”

“I am well. My siblings arrived late last night and are quite eager to meet you.” He gave her a shy smile. “Though I must warn you, Temari can be… protective, and somewhat abrasive. Kankurō, on the other hand, has very little filter. I apologize in advance.” 

“They already sound delightful. I have not met many noblewomen who are allowed to be abrasive. I am intrigued.” 

"Then you and my sister may get along better than I expected.” After a beat, he added, “I did not realize you were acquainted with the Duke of Arashi.” 

Naruto tilted her head. “Oh, Minato? Yes. He and my eldest brother, Kakashi, are best friends. We grew up around each other, our fathers were close once, before obligations got in the way.” 

“And your personal relationship with the Duke?” Gaara prodded.

Naruto gave a small, sheepish smile. “We used to fight like cats and dogs. We truly couldn’t stand each other for a while.” She exhaled. “But recently… that’s changed.” 

“How so?” 

“We agreed to let bygones be bygones,” she said. “His father’s passing put many things into perspective for him, I think. And I have far too much going on to keep sharpening my claws every time he walks into a room. We’re… friends again, like when we were children.” She faltered before saying, “I didn’t realize how relieved that would make me.” 

“Old bonds are usually difficult to sever completely,” Gaara remarked.

“How do you know Minato?” 

“Our families have traded for years,” Gaara explained. “His lands produce several goods that Suna cannot. I met his father once during negotiations, but never the young Duke himself.” 

“I didn’t know that...” 

“His reputation extends far beyond Konoha. I have heard it said his mind is… exceptional. A rare kind of intellect.” 

Naruto let out an unladylike snort before she could stop herself. Gaara looked at her in surprise. “What?” he asked, amused. 

“It’s true,” she admitted. “Minato is very clever, but I promise you, he is just as hopeless as any other man when confronted with a woman he cannot understand. I cannot tell you how many times I have left him completely speechless.” 

“That does not surprise me in the slightest.” The redhead chuckled.

“It probably helps that I grew up with him, so I know all his embarrassing childhood moments." She grinned wickedly. "He can act like a dignified duke before the ton, but I still remember wrestling him in fields and beating him at games as a young girl.” 

“You truly are unlike anyone I have ever met, Naruto.” Gaara looked down at her fondly. Her cheeks pinked, and she glanced away, suddenly very aware of how close they were walking and how different this path felt from the one she had just left. 

They soon reached Gaara’s family tent, richly dressed in warm-toned fabrics that fluttered in the wind. He guided her inside and pulled out a chair beside his own. “Please,” he said, gesturing. 

“Thank you.”

He slid her chair in before taking his seat, sitting close enough that their elbows nearly brushed. Naruto turned to the other two at the table, offering a smile.

“Good afternoon. Gaara has told me so much about you both. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

“The pleasure is ours, Miss Uzumaki,” the brown-haired young man greeted, bowing his head with a grin. His purple markings around his eyes gave him a mischievous, theatrical look. His accent was thicker than Gaara’s, as well.

“Yes, Gaara hasn’t stopped talking about you since we arrived,” a cool voice added. Naruto looked to Temari and met a set of deep green eyes. The dark pigment lining her eyes was even more pronounced than her brother’s, striking against her blonde hair. Naruto tilted her head curiously. Temari caught the look and smirked. 

“The color around our eyes protects against the sun,” she explained. “Suna is mostly desert. Without it, the glare alone can leave you blind for hours. Gaara usually wears it too, but he’s been trying to look less… intimidating while in Konoha.” 

“I think it looks rather fierce...I like it.” 

Temari’s smirk turned approving. 

“Gaara has been teaching me about Suna’s customs,” Naruto teased. “But he conveniently forgot to mention that one.” 

“I was getting around to it,” Gaara said, feigning offense. Naruto laughed, and Kankurō snorted. At a subtle motion from Gaara, servants stepped forward with covered dishes, placing them carefully on the low table. The aromas that rose were warm, rich, and unlike anything Naruto had smelled before: spices layered over slow-cooked meats, sweet notes tangled with heat. 

“This is beautiful,” she breathed. “Everything smells incredible.” 

Gaara watched her reaction, his expression hopeful. “I asked them to prepare foods from my home. I thought… You might like to try them after you expressed your interest the other day.” 

“I’m honored,” she said sincerely. She pointed to a unfamilar cut of meat served over golden grains. “What’s this one?” 

“Harissa lamb. The paste is made from sun-dried chilies, garlic, cumin, and coriander. The grains are toasted first, so they hold the flavor.” 

Naruto scooped a small bite, blew on it, then tasted. Her eyes lit up instantly. “That’s wonderful! It’s spicy but not overwhelming.” 

“She didn’t cry. That’s a good sign,” Kankurō leaned back with a grin.

“Most lightweights do,” Temari added frankly. 

“I grew up with brothers. I’ve eaten things that were far more dangerous than this.” 

Gaara’s lips twitched, clearly pleased. They spoke a little while they ate, about the picnic, about how different Konoha’s greenery must look compared to Suna’s endless gold dunes. Naruto listened eagerly as Temari described sandstorms that painted the sky copper, and Kankurō dramatically complained about sand getting everywhere. Eventually, Naruto reached for another dish, the small crescent pastries glistening with oil and herbs. "And these?” she asked. 

“Sambusak,” Gaara replied. “Fried pastries filled with lentils, onions, and desert herbs. Common street food.” 

Naruto bit into one and made a sound of delight. “Mmm, I love these.” 

“Careful,” Temari warned. “They’re heavier than they look.” 

Naruto only smiled and took another bite anyway. A few minutes later, Naruto noticed a dish of thin slices of grilled chicken coated in a bright orange glaze. “That one looks different,” she said, reaching for it. 

“Saffron citrus chicken,” Gaara explained. “It’s meant to balance heat with sweetness.” 

Naruto tasted it and blinked. “Oh!” She covered her mouth as she finished chewing. “That’s not bad, just… not what I expected.” 

“Too gentle for you?” Temari smirked.

“I think I prefer the bolder flavors,” Naruto admitted. Gaara nodded, filing that away carefully. 

Naruto reached back for more of the lamb. “If this is what meals in Suna are like, I may never leave the table.” 

She was clearly jesting, but Gaara’s smile in response was deeply pleased. Across the table, Temari and Kankurō exchanged a subtle look. They finished their meal slowly, conversation drifting into comfortable pauses as the servants cleared away the last of the dishes. Naruto leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, one hand resting over her stomach. 

“That,” she declared, “was wonderful.” 

“I am very pleased you enjoyed it.” 

"I really did. I know it might sound silly, but food matters. If I were to marry someone from another land, I would need to know I could live there happily and not starve because I cannot bear the meals.” She smiled sheepishly. “It would be unfair to both of us otherwise.” 

Temari gave an approving hum. Gaara’s lips curved, pride softening his usual reserved expression. Her openness, her honesty, only strengthened the hope building in his chest. They lingered for a moment while their food settled until at last Gaara stood and offered her his hand. “If you are ready, I would be honored to walk with you a while longer before returning you to your family.” 

“I’d love to.” She placed her hand in his, letting him help her to her feet. She noticed Temari and Kankurō rise as well, falling into step a short distance behind them as they exited the tent. 

“It pleases me,” Gaara said as they walked, “how easily you have gotten along with my siblings.” 

“They’re easy to like,” Naruto replied warmly. 

Gaara huffed. “Most would not agree.” 

She looked at him curiously, but he continued before she could ask. 

“As children… things were not so simple between us. They blamed me for our mother’s death. I was born, and she did not survive. In their grief, they turned that pain toward me.” 

“That’s awful…” Naruto’s eyes widened in horror.

He smiled, though he still looked sad. “It was a long time ago, and we were young. Grief makes monsters of us all. We have healed since then. We are… truly siblings now. They love me, and I love them.” 

“I’m glad you found your way back to each other.” Naruto squeezed his arm. She was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “I don’t think any of us could ever blame Menma for our mother's passing. She had struggled so much with Sakumo, who was meant to be the last. Menma was a surprise to everyone, and her pregnancy with him was… very hard.” Her gaze turned distant. “I think she knew, when the time came, that she might not survive.” 

Gaara listened without interruption. 

“Menma was born early,” she continued. “So small and pale. He barely cried. All of us were terrified we would lose him, too. I remember the first time I held him. He fit so easily in my arms… like a fragile little bird.” 

“Do you…desire children of your own, Miss Uzumaki?” 

She turned to him with a hopeful smile. “Yes, I do. It’s actually one of the reasons I agreed to debut this season. My mother was older when she began having children, and each pregnancy took more from her than the last. Menma was called a miracle, but…I don’t want to risk the same fate. I want to have children while my body is still strong. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving them behind the way she had to leave us.” 

It was the first time she had ever said those words aloud, and saying them made the fear feel real. 

“You would be a wonderful mother.”

Naruto blinked at him, surprised by the certainty in his tone. 

“You speak of children not as ornaments or heirs,” he explained, “but as lives you wish to cherish and protect.” 

Her cheeks warmed, but she did not look away. “I think that I just want the kind of family my parents had. Love first…everything else second.” 

Gaara nodded, and Naruto turned at the sudden sound of splashing and laughter, her gaze drawn past the line of colorful tents to a wide stretch of water glittering beneath the sun. It was a lake, lively with little boats drifting lazily across its surface. Her whole face lit up. 

“Oh!” She stepped a little closer to the edge of the path, eyes sparkling. “Would you care to take a boat ride with me, my lord?” she asked, pointing toward the neat row of couples waiting their turn for the small two-person boats. 

Gaara followed her gesture, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I would be honored.” 

“We have a large lake on our land in Uzushio,” Naruto told him as they took their place in line. “In the summers, we spend hours out on the water. Sometimes we’d pack food and stay until the sun went down. Uzushio is close to the ocean, too, so I grew up around water my whole life.” 

“I am sad to admit Suna has no beaches or lakes like this,” Gaara lamented. “Only rivers that wind through the cities. Water is… precious to us." 

Naruto hummed thoughtfully, tucking that away. Life in a desert kingdom would be very different from what she knew. She glanced around idly and spotted her brothers, who had finally ventured out from their family tent. Sakumo saw her first and waved enthusiastically, shouting her name across the field. Obito and Yamato turned at once, raising their hands in greeting, while Kakashi gave her a more subdued nod. Naruto laughed and waved back, but she paused when she noticed Menma wasn’t with them. Her smile faded as she scanned the area, noting her father was missing as well. Had they left Menma behind at the tent? Her gaze moved along the lakeshore, searching.

That was when she spotted Minato. He was walking a short distance away beside a young pale-haired woman in a butter-yellow dress. The girl leaned toward him as she spoke, clearly trying to hold his attention. Naruto looked away so quickly it hurt. An odd, tight feeling bloomed in her chest.

'What is that feeling?' 

She swallowed and forced herself to keep searching for Menma instead of looking back. Under a broad tree near the water’s edge, a small figure sat with a book propped on his knees. 

“Menma!” she called, relief flooding her voice. Gaara blinked at her sudden shout, following her gaze. Menma startled, then grinned when he saw her waving. He lifted his hand in return. “Don’t go close to the water, okay?!” she added, cupping her hands around her mouth. He nodded obediently and went right back to reading. Naruto smiled, tension easing from her shoulders, and turned back to Gaara. 

“Menma is the only one of us who doesn’t know how to swim yet,” she informed him. “His lungs are sensitive, and my father worries he’ll fall ill if he spends too much time in the water.” 

“You are very watchful of him.” 

“I helped raise him,” she confessed. “After our mother passed, we all did, but I think I worried the most.” 

Ahead of them, a boat bumped against the dock as a couple stepped out, laughing. The attendant waved them forward. “Your turn, my lord. My lady.” 

Naruto’s earlier unease slipped away as excitement took over again. She gathered her skirts slightly and let Gaara help her toward the waiting boat, sunlight dancing across the lake like scattered diamonds. They drifted across the lake at an easy pace, the dip of the oars and the lapping of water against the boat creating a peaceful rhythm. Naruto relaxed into it, the sun warm on her shoulders, the wind teasing loose strands of hair at her temples. She also found herself talking more than she meant to. 

“I learned to swim before I could properly write my name. Father said if I was going to run wild near water all the time, I at least needed to know how not to drown.” 

“And did you enjoy it?” 

“I did,” she chirped fondly. “I was terrible at first, but I got the hang of it. I was in the water so much that my handmaid started calling me a mermaid.” Naruto wrinkled her nose. “I may have taken that as encouragement and stayed in even longer.” 

“I can picture it. You'd make for a beautiful mermaid." 

She smiled at that, then made a conscious effort not to let her gaze wander across the lake to look for a certain flash of blond. She kept her eyes on Gaara instead, listening as he asked questions about her siblings, about Uzushio, about the games she used to play as a child. 

The conversation slowed as the boatman began rowing them back toward the dock, the shore gradually growing clearer. Gaara shifted forward slightly on the bench as his hand lifted, fingers brushing softly along her cheek. “I hope I am not being too forward,” he said, “but you are lovely in the sun.” 

Heat rushed to her face at once, blooming bright across her cheeks. She dropped her gaze shyly, heart fluttering. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

“I have had a very wonderful day with you, Miss Uzumaki,” he continued, his thumb still resting lightly against her skin. “Today has proven to me that we are a very good match for each other. I hope… that you feel the same as I do?” 

Her heart squeezed at the earnestness in his eyes. She reached up, covering his hand with her own, offering him a soft, reassuring smile, but before she could answer, a shout cut across the lake. 

Naruto’s head snapped toward the sound. A cluster of preteen boys had Menma by the arms, swinging him back and forth dangerously close to the water’s edge while he kicked and struggled. They had somehow gotten him on the unoccupied dock on the other side of the lake. Horror crashed through her, and she shot to her feet so fast the boat rocked violently beneath them. 

“My lady, please sit down!” the boatman cried, trying to steady them. She ignored him. Time slowed to a nightmare crawl as the boys gave one final swing and let go, and Menma’s small body arced through the air and disappeared into the deep water with a distant splash. 

“MENMA!” Naruto screamed. She didn’t even think as she dove straight off the boat. Naruto heard Gaara shout her name as she surfaced, but the sound barely registered. The world had narrowed on the spot where her brother had vanished. She plunged forward, fighting the drag of her soaked skirts as she swam. 

“Menma!” she screamed, choking on lake water as she kicked harder. She gulped one sharp breath and dove under, arms cutting through the murky green depths. When she broke the surface again, she was close enough to see him. 

Menma’s head bobbed above the water, arms flailing wildly, splashes frantic and uncoordinated. His small face was pale with terror, mouth opening and closing in silent cries as he swallowed water. 

“MENMA!” Naruto sobbed, pushing herself harder, muscles burning. Her wet dress clung to her legs like chains, but she didn’t stop. She hated herself in that moment for choosing this dress. It hindered her from swimming with her full potential. She watched, eyes wide, as Menma gasped once more, then slipped under. 

“NO!” A raw, animal sound tore from her throat as she lunged forward and dove under without hesitation. She almost had him before he went under. The cold water closed over her head as she swam down. Her hands reaching out to feel for him, the water burned her eyes, but she forced herself to keep them open, ignoring the sting. 

'Where was he? Where? Please, menma. Please be okay.' 

She pushed herself farther into the lake, the light barely visible. She paused, looking around as best as she could. She almost shouted when she spotted a small shape drifting downward, limbs slack. Naruto kicked with everything she had, lungs screaming, vision blurring at the edges. She reached him, grabbing his arm and yanking his limp body against her chest. She kicked as hard as she could, fighting both his weight and her waterlogged gown dragging her back toward the depths. Her chest burned, panic clawing at her ribs as the surface felt impossibly far away. 

She burst from the water with a ragged gasp, coughing violently as she forced Menma’s face above the surface with shaking arms. 

“Menma,” she sobbed, pushing wet hair from his face. “Menma, wake up! please—” 

He didn’t move. His lips were already a pale blue, and his chest did not rise. Her strength faltered, the weight of her soaked clothes and his small body dragged her lower. Water lapped at her chin, then her lips. Her legs kicked weakly as she struggled to stay afloat. 

“Menma!” she wailed again, voice breaking. Her arms trembled violently as they began to sink, Naruto fighting with everything she had to keep him above water. But she wasn’t strong enough, and with one last desperate gasp, she sank, menma tight in her arms.  

Minato had been walking the edge of the field, doing his absolute best to escape the woman glued to his side. 

“I really like to sing as well, your grace. My father says I have the best voice in all the land.” She giggled, high and breathy. Minato turned his head slightly so she wouldn’t see him roll his eyes.

'If this continues, I may drown myself in the lake just for the peace.' 

He scanned the field for any excuse to leave and spotted Kakashi and the others near one of the lakeside tents. Beyond them, he spotted Naruto, seated in a boat with the red-headed prince, Gaara. His jaw clenched as jealousy rose fast and scorching, and his fingers dug into his palms where his hands were clasped behind his back, a posture he had adopted solely so Miss Yamanaka could not latch onto his arm again. He inhaled through his nose and turned toward the pale blonde beside him, cutting her off mid-sentence. 

“Please excuse me, Miss Yamanaka. I must speak to my friend immediately. Have a good day.” He bowed low enough to be polite and walked away before she could respond. Relief hit him the moment he reached the Uzumaki brothers. 

“You look like you’ve just survived an ambush,” Yamato joked. 

“Might as well have been. Lord Yamanaka’s daughter is…” Minato paused, searching for a diplomatic word and failing. 

“A harpy?” Obito offered helpfully. 

Minato choked on a laugh but nodded. “Yes, that.” 

“Naruto said she’s the worst of the ladies this season,” Obito added with a grin. Of course she did. Minato could practically hear Naruto saying it. He was about to reply when a cry cut through the air. Minato turned immediately, checking on Naruto to see if it had been her who called out. Naruto was on her feet in the boat, eyes wide, mouth open in horror. He followed her gaze just in time to see a group of boys on a dock on the other side of the lake toss Menma in. Naruto screamed his name and dove without hesitation. Her brothers took off, sprinting towards the dock where the young boys were stepping off, satisfied smiles on their faces until they saw a group of men running towards them.  

“Out of the way!” Kakashi barked, fury sharp in his voice as he shoved past them. The boys went pale, stumbling back, but Minato caught two of them by the shoulders before they could bolt. 

“You stay right here,” he hissed, voice low and deadly. “If something happens to him, it’s on your heads.” 

He nodded to Sakumo, who pressed his mouth into a thin line but nodded back. He would stay with the boys until someone else got here. Minato looked back at the water. Naruto had surfaced, swimming hard, but her skirts were dragging, tangling around her legs. Even from the dock, he could see the panic on her face. Kakashi tore off his jacket and shoes and rushed to the edge of the dock, jumping in to try to reach them, but Menma had drifted farther than they realized in his fight to stay afloat. Naruto was closer to him than Kakashi was. 

They all saw the moment Menma lost the fight, his arms going slack as he sank in, his last scream cut off as he gargled water. Naruto screamed, reaching for him too late and following him under. 

Minato raced towards the edge of the dock, eyes wide as he looked for Naruto. Yamato and Obito had begun to undress like Kakashi had, throwing their jackets and shoes haphazardly. He heard pounding footsteps and saw Sakumo arrive with Gaara. A few other gentlemen had gathered around the dock, some keeping a hold on the boys who had caused this chaos.  

“I do not know how to swim.” Gaara panted, hands on his knees as he looked at the two brothers who had just dropped into the water. 

Obito whipped around. “What?!” 

“I come from the desert!” Gaara snapped back, helpless fury in his voice, eyes locked on the water. Kakashi continued to swim towards the spot Naruto and Menma had been, shouting their names. Naruto finally broke the surface with Menma in her arms, but he was limp, his face pale even from here. Her sobs carried across the water. She seemed to not hear everyone's frantic calls, eyes only for Menma. She struggled to stay afloat; no doubt the dress had grown too heavy for her with Menma's weight as well. Naruto gasped one final time and went under, dragging Menma with her.  

Something inside Minato snapped clean in two. He tore off his coat, not even bothering with his boots, and dived off the dock. He kicked his legs and pushed his arms to pull himself forward, easily passing by Obito and Yamato. He looked up as he passed a frozen Kakashi, whose face was pale, mouth open, and tears streamed down his face. 

"Kakashi!" He yelled, trying to awaken his friend from his frozen state, but it was no use, so Minato continued. It took him a minute to reach the spot Naruto had gone under at, and with one deep breath, he dived down.  

Kakashi couldn’t move, horror rooting him in place as he watched the two people he loved most disappear beneath the dark surface. His arms felt like stone, and his lungs burned. His mind screamed at him to move, but all he could do was stare at the widening ripples where they had gone under. Minato shot past him like an arrow, shouting his name, but Kakashi couldn’t respond, couldn’t even call out to his friend to please save them. Minato dove under, and Kakashi held his breath. He prayed that Minato would find them, that they would be okay.

The surface broke as Minato surged up, gasping hard, water streaming down his face as he sucked in a breath. He was empty-handed. He dove down again, and Kakashi’s chest caved in. A broken sound tore out of him as tears blurred his vision once again.  

“No!” Obito’s scream ripped across the lake, raw and shattered. 

Minato came up a second time, his movements slower now, shoulders heaving with exhaustion, but his eyes were wild, desperate. He filled his lungs and went under again. Kakashi didn’t even realize he had stopped treading water until strong arms locked around his chest. He pulled against them, finally free from the shock that kept him locked in place. He had to help; he needed to help.  

“Enough!” Yamato choked, voice breaking as he dragged Kakashi backward. “You’ll drown!” 

Kakashi fought him, thrashing, trying to tear free. “LET GO OF ME, THEY’RE STILL DOWN THERE!” 

But Yamato held on, teeth clenched, eyes glassy with unshed tears as he hauled his brother toward the shore where their father waited, holding onto Obito who was fighting against his hold. Sakumo kneeled beside them, mouth open in shock. 

A crowd had formed. Lords and ladies alike watched from behind his father as Yamato fought to bring his last brother from the water. Even the Queen stood near the dock now, surrounded by her guards, hands clasped tightly in front of her, a deep, stricken frown etched into her face. 

"I will not lose you to this lake, too!" Yamato yelled, pulling the fight from kakashi who finally slumped. His sobs tore out of him as Yamato dragged him the last few feet onto the grass. 

Behind them, the lake swallowed the last of Minato’s ripples. 

Minato forced his burning lungs to ignore the fire clawing through them as he dove deeper, past the point where instinct screamed at him to turn back. He had to look one more time. He couldn’t accept that she might be lost to this forsaken lake, along with her youngest brother, forever. The water was dark around him, the sunlight nothing but a distant shimmer far above. His eyes strained, vision blurring as he searched for a sign of their bodies. 

‘Oh gods… please. Please not her.’ 

He reached out blindly, hands sweeping through cold water, praying to feel something. His chest convulsed, desperate for air. Black spots crept into the edges of his vision, and his muscles trembled with exhaustion, but he did not stop; he would not stop. Even if...even if all he could bring back were their bodies. He wanted to cry out desperately, but if he wasted the last of his air, then he would perish as well. But the longer he searched, his hope to find them waned.  

Just as he was about to give up, his lungs burning so much that he had to force his mouth closed, his fingers brushed against cloth. Minato lunged, fist closing in a death grip around fabric that tangled through his hand. He pulled hard, dragging the weight toward him. It was Naruto’s dress; he could feel the lace detailing around her waist, having looked at her enough today to recognize it by feeling alone. He reached around her body and found Menma still clutched in her arms. 

A broken sound tried to rip from his throat, but he swallowed it and kicked with everything he had left. He pushed off the lakebed and shot upward. He burst from the water with a ragged gasp that tore his lungs open. Air never tasted so painful. He hooked an arm tighter around both of them and kicked toward shore, each movement slower than the last. 

Voices reached him through a distant roar, shouting, crying, someone screaming Naruto and Menma's name, but it all blurred together. 

He didn’t look at the crowd; his eyes stayed locked on the two limp bodies in his arms. Naruto’s face was pale, her lips colorless. Her beautiful hair, once pinned up and curled, now plastered to her cheeks and neck, tangled from the water. Menma hung in her arms, just as lifeless.  

‘Please,’ he begged as his feet finally scraped the muddy bottom near the shore. ‘Please don’t let me be too late.’ 

Hands reached for them as he stumbled onto land, but he shook them off long enough to kneel and lower them himself. 

“Space! Give them space!” someone shouted. 

Minato rolled Menma gently off of Naruto, settling him on his back as a man came to start compression on his small chest. Someone yelled for another doctor to start pushing air into his lungs. Minato brushed Naruto's hair from her face, hands shaking wildly. She hadn't moved a muscle since he laid her down. Her chest was frozen.  

“No, no, no…” he whispered hoarsely. He pressed his ear near her mouth, nothing. He placed a hand over her chest, no movement. His heart dropped into his stomach. He didn’t even hesitate to start doing compressions on her chest, following the instructions someone had barked into his ear. He tilted her chin, pinched her nose, and sealed his mouth over hers, pushing air into her lungs. 

Her chest rose under his hands, and he pulled back, counted barely a heartbeat, then did it again. 

Again. 

Again. 

Somewhere beside him, voices shouted more instructions. Another pair of hands began working on the younger boy. Minato didn’t look up, not once, as he pressed into her chest, trying to stimulate her body.  

“Come on, Naruto,” he pleaded, voice breaking. “Come on… please… breathe.” 

He pressed down on her chest, then bent to breathe for her again, pouring every ounce of will he had left into that single desperate act. Minato pulled back, chest heaving, and Naruto suddenly gasped. The sound was wet and broken, a violent choke as water surged from her lungs. Minato reacted instantly, rolling her onto her side, one shaking hand supporting her shoulder while the other braced her back. 

“It’s alright, it’s alright…” he breathed, though his own voice trembled. She coughed again, her body curling inward as her arms instinctively wrapped around herself. Her eyes flew open, wide and unfocused, darting wildly at the crowd of faces around her. 

“Menma!” she cried out. A small, ragged cough sounded just behind her. Naruto twisted so fast she nearly collapsed again, but Minato caught her under the arms and helped her sit up. A few feet away, Menma sputtered as one of the physicians pressed gently on his back, more water spilling from his mouth. 

“Oh, Menma...” Naruto sobbed. She crawled to him on trembling hands and knees, pulling him into her chest the moment he was upright enough. Her fingers shook as she brushed his soaked hair from his forehead. 

“I’m here, I’m here,” she whispered. Menma’s eyes fluttered open weakly, but he gave her the tiniest smile. Naruto broke, tears streaming down her face as she pressed her forehead to his, clutching him like she was afraid the world might steal him away again. 

Kakashi dropped to his knees beside them, arms wrapping around both siblings, his own composure shattered. Obito came next, then Yamato, then Sakumo. The brothers formed a trembling wall around the two smallest Uzumakis. Jiraiya looked so pale as he all but collapsed, taking a hold of his daughter and his youngest son's hands.  

Minato remained where he was, on his knees in the grass, breath coming in harsh pants, one hand still splayed against Naruto’s back. She was shaking, the shock and terror no doubt catching up to her. Her dress clung to every curve, heavy with water, the fabric nearly translucent in places. Minato forced himself to look away, jaw tightening. He pushed himself to his feet unsteadily, the world swaying. Someone grabbed his arm to steady him, but he barely noticed. He stumbled over to where his coat had been tossed, picking it up with numb fingers, then stepped back toward her. Without a word, he draped it over her shoulders, tucking it around her arms, shielding her from the staring crowd. 

He sank back onto his knees behind her, the strength finally draining from his body now that she was breathing. His head bowed forward as he dragged air into his lungs in rough, uneven pulls. He tried to calm his racing heart, tried to will his hands to stop shaking, but peace would not come so easily. 

He had almost lost her. If he had been a second slower…if he hadn’t gone back down that final time. If his fingers had missed the brush of her dress in the dark...

His heart pounded so violently that it made him lightheaded. For a wild moment, he wondered if he might truly collapse from it, if his body would simply give out after everything it had just endured. He looked up through wet lashes, blue eyes bloodshot and unfocused as they found Naruto. 

She had been gone. She hadn’t been breathing. He had held her in his arms, thinking she was already beyond saving. 

A choked breath left him as the full weight of that realization crashed over him. He had come so close to losing her before he ever had the courage to love her properly, before he could confess the years of longing he had buried beneath pride and fear, before he could ask her (beg her) to be his. 

All his hopes, all his imagined futures, every dream he had allowed himself to keep, rested in this one woman…and she had almost died today. 

The thought made his stomach twist violently. A wave of nausea surged up without warning, and he turned sharply to the side, losing the battle as his body rejected the lake water he didn't even realize he’d swallowed. A hand pressed between his shoulder blades. Someone murmured something he didn’t catch as he spat again until his stomach finally settled into a trembling ache. When he sat back up, someone was offering him a cool cloth. He took it with numb fingers and pressed it to his face, wiping away water and sweat and tears he hadn’t noticed falling. The coolness stung, dragging him back into himself. 

Across from him, Naruto was being coaxed gently from Menma’s side so the physicians could examine the boy properly. She resisted at first, fingers clinging weakly to her brother’s sleeve, but her strength failed her. She swayed, and Minato moved without thinking. He caught her as she tipped backward, lowering himself behind her so she could lean against his chest.

Up close, he could finally see her clearly. Color had returned to her cheeks and lips, but she was still far too pale. Her skin, usually sun-kissed, looked drained, almost translucent. Dark shadows pooled beneath her eyes, and her lashes were clumped together from lake water and tears. She coughed weakly, the sound scraping out of her throat, and he rubbed a slow, soothing hand up and down her arm. 

“Minato…” she whispered hoarsely, blinking up at him. Her voice was barely more than breath. His throat tightened painfully as he bent closer, afraid she might not have the strength to say it again. 

“I’m here, Naruto,” he murmured. “I’m here.” 

Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt. “Thank you,” she breathed, resting her head just over his heart, as if she needed to hear it beat. “You saved us.” 

The words caused his heart to stutter. 

“I’d do anything for you,” he whispered, brushing damp strands of hair away from her face with trembling fingers. 

A physician knelt in front of them, speaking as he checked her pulse, then placed a listening instrument to her chest. Minato barely registered the instructions being given, only that Naruto was breathing, that her chest rose and fell beneath his hand. 

“I want my carriage brought over immediately,” the Queen’s voice rang out, commanding above the chaos. “These two are to be escorted home at once and properly assessed. Whatever care they require, it will be provided.” 

There was a rustle as guards moved to obey. 

“And set up a perimeter,” she added coldly. “This is not a spectacle. A family nearly lost two of their children today.” 

Minato might have smiled at her fury on their behalf on any other day. Now, he could only bow his head in gratitude. Kakashi dropped to his knees beside them, his composure as shattered as Minato’s felt. His silver hair clung damply to his forehead, his eyes red and swollen. He reached for Naruto’s hand and held it tightly. 

“Minato…” he breathed, voice breaking as he looked down at his sister. Minato met his eyes. There was too much in that look—gratitude, horror, guilt, love. 

“Later, Kakashi. Please…We can talk later.” 

Kakashi swallowed hard and nodded, unable to trust his voice. His hand tightened around Naruto’s as his shoulders shook with the aftershocks of fear. 

When the carriage finally pulled up, wheels grinding softly over the gravel, Minato didn’t wait for assistance. He bent and lifted Naruto carefully into his arms. She made no protest, no teasing remark about being carried like a child. Her body went slack against him, exhausted beyond measure. The physicians had insisted she stay awake, but her eyelids drooped heavily, lashes fluttering with every shallow breath. 

“Minato, let me.” Kakashi’s voice cracked as he stepped forward, hands already reaching. Minato instinctively turned away, his hold tightening enough to be protective without hurting her. 

“I have her, Kakashi. I am recovered,” he snapped, sharper than he meant to. He forced himself to take a steadying breath. “I don’t want to jostle her around too much. It’s no trouble to carry her, I promise.” 

Kakashi searched his face, jaw clenched, eyes still glassy from tears. Then he nodded once and moved ahead, clearing the way to the carriage. 

Inside, Menma was already curled in Jiraiya’s lap, wrapped in blankets, his small face pale but peaceful now that he was breathing steadily. Obito and Yamato had squeezed in on one bench, Sakumo perched half on the edge of the other. Kakashi climbed in last, leaving just enough space for Minato. 

Minato stepped up into the carriage and sat, adjusting Naruto carefully so she rested along his chest and lap, one arm braced securely around her back. Her head lolled slightly against his shoulder, damp hair cool against his neck. It was cramped with all eight of them inside, knees knocking and shoulders pressed together, but no one complained. A knock sounded on the carriage door, and it lurched forward immediately. 

The ride back to the Uzumaki townhouse was far quicker than it should have been at this hour. The streets were clear, the usual midday bustle nowhere to be seen. Someone must have ridden ahead and cleared the road, Minato realized dimly. The Queen’s doing, no doubt. 

He didn’t take his eyes off Naruto the entire way. With each breath she took, he felt against his chest. Each time her lashes fluttered, he murmured to keep her present, to keep her from slipping into sleep too deeply. 

“We’re almost home,” he told her softly. “Stay with us, Naruto.” 

By the time the carriage rolled to a stop, Riki was already outside, wringing her hands, face streaked with tears. “My lady!” she cried, stepping forward, but Sakumo gently caught her arm. 

“Please, Riki,” he said, voice thick. “Can you make sure Naruto’s room is prepared? The doctors will be here momentarily.” 

Riki pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, nodding frantically. “Yes, yes, of course.” She rushed inside ahead of them, skirts flying, already calling orders to the other servants. 

Minato stepped down from the carriage first, still carrying Naruto. Her head shifted weakly against his shoulder, and he tightened his hold. 

Inside, the house felt unnaturally quiet, servants lining the walls with stricken expressions as they passed. Minato climbed the stairs carefully so he wouldn’t jar her. 

He kept his gaze forward, refusing to look around as they entered her room. It felt wrong to take in the details, to let his curiosity wander when she was like this. Maybe one day he would be welcomed in here properly, but today was not that day. 

Riki had already prepared the bed, extra blankets spread over the covers to protect them from the lake water still clinging to Naruto’s dress. A basin of warm water and clean cloths sat nearby, along with fresh linens. 

Minato crossed the room and bent, lowering her onto the bed. He was careful with her head, easing it onto the pillow, his hand lingering a moment to make sure she was comfortable. 

His jacket still hung around her shoulders. When he noticed it had slipped open, revealing a section of her dress that had turned nearly translucent from the water, he quietly adjusted the coat, tucking it more securely around her to shield her from view. Only then did he step back.

He moved to stand beside Sakumo near the wall, hands clasped behind his back to stop their trembling. He would stand guard until they asked him to leave. Yamato burst into the room moments later, slightly out of breath from running. 

“Riki, the doctors are here,” he called into the room. “They’re asking if you will dress Naruto in one of her lighter nightgowns so they can examine her properly.” 

“Of course, my lord,” Riki answered immediately, already moving. Other maids slipped into the room to help. Minato and Sakumo shared a look and stepped back from the doorway, giving the women privacy as the door shut softly in front of them. 

A cluster of physicians hurried past at that moment, coats flaring as they made their way toward Menma’s room. The sight made Minato’s chest tighten all over again. 

Jiraiya emerged from that direction a moment later, closing the door behind him before turning toward them. His face looked years older than it had that morning. 

“I’ve left Kakashi and Yamato in charge of Menma,” he informed them. “The doctors are with him now. I’ll stay inside with Naruto while she’s being examined… just in case they need to remove her garments.” 

Minato inclined his head. It made sense. He was grateful Jiraiya had thought of it; the last thing Naruto would need was strangers undressing her without a trusted presence nearby. 

Jiraiya stepped closer and placed a firm hand on Minato’s shoulder. “If you need to rest, take any of the rooms,” he said. “We will talk more once I know their condition.” 

“I appreciate that, sir,” Minato replied tiredly, “but I don’t think I will be able to rest until I know if they’ll be alright.” 

Jiraiya gave a weary nod, understanding written plainly across his face. 

“Where is Obito?” Sakumo asked, glancing down the hall. 

“In his room,” Jiraiya answered. “Cooling off. You know how he gets in… extreme moments like this. I thought it best to let him calm down before he says or does something he’ll regret.” 

Sakumo nodded and leaned back against the wall, arms folded tightly across his chest. A physician approached from the stairs, another behind him carrying a leather case. 

“My lord, we are ready to examine your daughter if she is prepared,” the first doctor said respectfully. 

“Let me check with Riki,” Jiraiya replied. He crossed to the door and knocked softly. 

A red-haired maid opened it a crack, eyes red and cheeks blotchy from crying. “Yes, my lord?” 

“Karin, is Naruto ready? The doctors are here for her.” 

She swallowed and nodded. The door opened wider to admit Jiraiya and the two physicians before closing again. Silence settled over the corridor. Minato stared at the wood grain of the door, mind replaying the image of Naruto lying lifeless on the shore, her lips pale, her chest still. His stomach churned again. Time dragged, and every second felt like a small eternity. 

At last, Sakumo exhaled slowly and pushed off the wall. “Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s go sit in the family room while we wait.” 

Minato’s first instinct was to refuse. He wanted to remain right there, standing guard like a sentinel outside her door. But Sakumo gave him a look over his shoulder, and the protest died in his throat, and he followed. The family room they entered felt completely different from the day before. Yesterday, sunlight had streamed through the windows, catching in Naruto’s hair as she laughed. Now the curtains were half drawn, the air heavy, the room dim despite the afternoon light. 

Minato sank into a chair and bent forward, elbows on his knees, hands hanging between them. His entire body felt hollowed out. 

“Do you need a change of clothes?” Sakumo asked after a moment. 

Minato blinked down at himself, finally registering the cold cling of his soaked garments. His sleeves were stiff with dried lake water, boots still damp. “Yes,” he admitted. “I will see if I can have some fetched from my manor.” 

He started to rise, but Sakumo lifted a hand. “I’ll have one of the maids send the message. You stay there.” 

Minato tilted his head in protest, then relented and sat back. Borrowing clothes from one of the brothers would be pointless; he was broader and taller than all of them. Jiraiya’s things would fare no better. 

Sakumo left and returned a few minutes later, smiling, with a familiar figure hurrying behind him. 

“Your Grace!” Sonya exclaimed, rushing forward and dropping into the seat beside Minato without ceremony. Her hands immediately came up to his face, checking his temperature like she had when he was a boy. She tutted at his clammy skin and the grayish cast beneath his eyes. 

“Sonya… how did you get here so fast?” he asked, managing a tired smile. 

“One of the Queen’s messengers came to the manor,” she said briskly, “and told me I might be needed at the Uzumaki household and to pack a light bag. Imagine my surprise when I arrived, and a maid told me you had jumped into a lake to save Miss Uzumaki and the younger Mr. Uzumaki.” She clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Reckless boy.” 

He huffed a weak laugh. “Yes, it’s true. Where did you put my bag? I would like to change as soon as possible.” 

She stood and beckoned him firmly. “Come along. They’ve prepared a bath for you as well, so you can wash off that foul lake water. And you need food and water, too, young man.” 

“I think I’ve had enough water for today,” he muttered dryly. Behind him, Sakumo let out a tired snort as Minato followed Sonya out of the room. 

About an hour later, Minato returned to the family room, hair still damp from his bath, the clean scent of soap doing little to wash away the lingering memory of lake water and panic. Obito had joined Sakumo, curled forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, fingers laced tight together. Sakumo sat beside him.

Minato was dressed simply in a loose cream-colored shirt, the top few buttons undone, sleeves rolled carelessly to his forearms, and dark trousers. He looked less like a duke and more like the young man he wished he could be sometimes.  

He nodded to the younger men and lowered himself into a seat. “Have you heard anything?” he asked. Both boys shook their heads, eyes drifting again toward the hallway that led to Naruto’s and Menma’s rooms. 

“What of the boys who threw Menma into the water? Have they been apprehended and questioned?” 

“I saw the Queen’s men gather them before we left the grounds,” Sakumo answered, his jaw tight. “I’m sure Her Majesty will inform us once she has all the facts.” 

“Why would they even think that was okay?” Obito snapped suddenly, his composure cracking. “Were they trying to kill him?” 

“Calm yourself, brother,” Sakumo soothed, placing a hand on Obito’s shoulder. Minato watched the exchange. He remembered Obito’s temper as a child, how grief had carved something raw and reactive into him after their mother died. Intense fear, intense anger… they always pulled that edge to the surface, causing Obito to snap. 

“They likely didn’t know Menma couldn’t swim,” Sakumo continued. “And while I am furious they laid hands on him at all, I doubt they set out to kill him.” 

Obito dragged in a shaky breath and nodded, though his hands were still clenched. 

Time crawled on once more. The sun sank, shadows stretching long across the floor until the fire from the mantle replaced the daylight. No one spoke; every small sound from down the hall had all three of them look up eagerly. At last, they heard doors opening, the shuffle of multiple footsteps, and low voices. Minato, Obito, and Sakumo straightened. Kakashi and Yamato entered. They had changed clothes, hair still damp, faces drawn and pale. Kakashi dropped heavily into the seat beside Minato without a word. Yamato crossed to Obito and pulled him into a tight hug, Obito sagging into it like his strings had been cut. 

“Well?” Sakumo demanded. “Don’t leave us waiting. How is Menma?” 

Yamato looked up, exhaustion lining his face, but there was a small, trembling smile there too. “He’s going to be alright,” he said. Relief hit the room like a wave. Obito pressed his forehead against Yamato’s shoulder, Sakumo closed his eyes briefly, and Minato’s hands loosened in his lap. 

“The doctors are worried about his lungs,” Yamato continued. “They said he might pick up an infection from the lake water being in there so long, but they’re confident he’ll recover with rest and care.” 

“That’s good,” Minato breathed. Obito gave a broken laugh that turned into a sniffle. 

“Now we just wait to hear about Naruto…” Kakashi said, staring up at the ceiling like he couldn’t bear to look at anyone. Minato glanced at him, unease settling in his stomach.

Footsteps sounded again, and Jiraiya’s voice drifted down the hall as he thanked the departing doctors.  He entered the room a moment later, shoulders slumped with fatigue. He gave them a tired smile and pulled a chair into their loose circle before sitting. 

“How is Naruto, father?” Kakashi asked, voice barely above a whisper. Jiraiya dragged a hand down his face. The longer he took to speak, the tighter Minato’s chest became. 

“Father?” Yamato prompted, voice cracking. 

“She’s… going to take a while to be alright,” Jiraiya said softly. 

“What?” Sakumo breathed. “What does that mean?” 

Jiraiya folded his hands, staring down at them. “The outfit Naruto wore today made things worse than we realized. The dress was heavy and restrictive. With her corset and underlayers, she couldn’t draw proper breaths while swimming. By the time she reached Menma, her body was already exhausted.” 

Minato’s jaw tightened. 

“She inhaled a great deal of water,” Jiraiya continued. “And she was without oxygen for too long.” 

Kakashi’s shoulders began to shake. He looked at his father, eyes glassy. “Is she… is she going to live?” he asked, voice breaking. 

“Her lungs—” 

“That’s not what I asked!” Kakashi surged to his feet. “Is she going to live?!” 

“Kakashi, remember yourself!” Yamato snapped, grabbing his arm. “Let Father speak.” 

“It’s alright,” Jiraiya said tiredly. “Listen…I didn’t understand all of the doctors’ words, but Naruto will recover. It will just be… different, now.” 

Minato swallowed hard. 

“She’ll need rest,” Jiraiya said. “No strenuous activity for some time. Her lungs are weakened, so she may struggle to breathe at times. There could be moments of confusion, memory lapses, or headaches. She might even forget your name once or twice. What we have to do is be there for her and treat her the same as we always have. We just need to be a little more cautious now.” 

“So she has… brain damage?” Obito stared. 

Jiraiya gave a slow, reluctant nod. “A mild injury, they believe, but one we must take seriously.” 

Minato turned away, crossing his arms over his chest as grief and guilt warred inside him. Naruto, bright, fierce Naruto, now fragile because he hadn’t reached her sooner. 

“How is it Naruto suffered more than Menma?” Sakumo questioned. “He was under longer.” 

“The doctors think Menma held his breath as long as he could when he went under,” Jiraiya said. “Those extra seconds saved him. Naruto was already gasping and swallowing water while trying to reach him because of the dress pulling her down.” 

Minato closed his eyes and stood up to walk over to the window, his arms crossed over his chest as he examined everything Jiraiya had told him.   

“Minato,” Jiraiya called. He looked up as the older man stepped over and placed a hand on his shoulder, then pulled him into a firm embrace. 

“My family owes you a great debt,” Jiraiya said. “I do not know how I will ever repay you.” 

Minato hesitated only a second before returning the hug. 

“You owe me nothing. Your family has always been kind to me. I only wish I had found them sooner, maybe then Naruto wouldn’t be in this position.” His voice cracked despite his effort to steady it. 

Jiraiya pulled back and gripped his shoulders. “Son, look at me. You saved them, both of them. That is what matters. I will never forget what you did for my children.” 

Minato nodded, but the guilt didn’t ease. He turned back toward the window, staring out into the darkened street beyond the Uzumaki home, the weight of how close he had come to losing her pressing down on him.  

Minato stood at the window long after the conversation had died down behind him. Exhaustion dragged at his limbs, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. If he stopped, if he sat, if he let himself rest… the images of Naruto’s frozen face, the weight of her in his arms, the terrifying emptiness when she hadn’t been breathing would come back stronger.

He felt like a failure. 

She had survived, and still she had suffered. The words brain damage echoed in his head like a tolling bell. From what he’d read during his schooling, injuries to the brain were not simple things. Scholars barely understood the organ at all. Some patients recovered fully, others… didn’t. Jiraiya had said it was light, but what if the doctors had missed something? What if tomorrow she couldn’t remember her own name? What if she woke frightened, confused, not knowing the people she loved? 

His hand drifted up to his chin, fingers pressing there as he stared out into the dark, a posture he slipped into whenever his thoughts tangled too tightly. 

“You know what would make Naruto feel better?” Obito said suddenly, breaking the heavy silence behind him. Minato turned slightly, though he didn’t leave the window. 

“What?” Sakumo asked. 

“If we sent for Kurama,” Obito said with a small, hopeful grin. 

Yamato groaned immediately, throwing his head back against the chair. “Not that menace, please.” 

Minato blinked and turned fully this time. “That fox is still alive?” 

“You’d think he was still a kit with the way he acts,” Kakashi muttered. Despite everything, a smile tugged at Minato’s mouth as a memory surfaced. 

Naruto had been young then. He had been staying with the Uzumaki's for a few weeks when Naruto burst into the house in a panic, shouting for her mother. They’d rushed out to find her cradling a tiny, bloodied fox kit against her chest, her face streaked with tears and dirt. The poor thing had been mauled by another animal. She had begged Jiraiya to let her nurse it back to health, promised she would do all the work, and promised she would release it once it could survive on its own. Jiraiya had relented. 

Naruto had not gone anywhere without that fox after that and had named him Kurama. When the time came to let him go, she had cried the entire morning. Minato still remembered how red her eyes had been as she carried him to the forest’s edge. She released him, and Kurama followed her home. She tried the next day again, and he followed again. By the third attempt, she had been laughing through her tears, declaring that clearly he had chosen her. Jiraiya had given up and allowed the fox to stay, 'so long as he behaved.' 

“Why didn’t she bring him to Konoha?” Minato asked.

“It’s no place for a fox to roam free,” Yamato replied. “Naruto wants him to live as naturally as possible. And…” He huffed a small laugh. “She was worried a fox might scare off potential suitors. She planned to ease them into the idea first.” 

Before anyone could respond, the family room door opened. Riki stepped inside, hands clasped in front of her apron. Her eyes were still swollen from crying, but she looked calmer now. Every man in the room straightened at once. 

“Riki,” Jiraiya said, rising slightly. “Is all well?” 

“Yes, my lord,” she said, curtsying. “Forgive the interruption… but Miss Naruto is awake.” 

Minato’s heart stuttered. 

“And,” Riki added, glancing toward him with a small, uncertain smile, “she is asking to see the Duke.” 

All eyes snapped to Minato. 

“Me?” he asked, startled. Riki nodded. His pulse began to pound for an entirely different reason now. She was awake, she was conscious enough to ask for someone, and she had asked for him. 

“Very well,” Jiraiya nodded. “Take him to her.” 

“Father!” Kakashi protested immediately. “You cannot be serious. No offense, Minato, but Naruto’s rooms are private, and she must be in her nightgown. It’s not proper.” 

“Do you think so poorly of your friend that you believe he would take advantage of Naruto in her state?” 

“No, of course not.” Kakashi faltered.

“Then we can show him a measure of trust,” Jiraiya said. “He saved her life, and she is asking for him. I will allow it, for both their sakes.” 

“He was already in her rooms once today,” Sakumo added. “What’s one more time?” 

Kakashi hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod, though worry still lined his face. Minato looked to Jiraiya. “If you are certain, sir…” 

Jiraiya met his eyes and nodded. “Go.” 

Riki curtsied again and turned toward the hall. Minato followed, his heart pounding harder with every step, exhaustion forgotten for the moment. Riki pushed the door open just enough to slip inside, her voice soft.

“My lady, the Duke is here to see you.” 

Minato heard a murmur in response, too quiet to make out. Riki opened the door wider and gestured for him to enter. He drew in a steadying breath and stepped inside. The sight of Naruto stopped him cold. 

She looked so small in the wide bed, swallowed by the pale orange and cream comforter tucked carefully around her. Only her shoulders and head were visible. Her skin was still too pale, shadows bruising the delicate skin beneath her eyes. Her hair had been washed and brushed out, still damp as it fanned across the pillow.  

“Can you give us a moment, please, Riki?” Naruto rasped, and Minato flinched at the sound of it.

“Of course, my lady, I’ll be right outside. Please call if you need anything.” Riki curtsied first to Naruto, then to him. “Your Grace.” 

The door shut behind her. Minato remained near the door, hands clasped behind his back so he wouldn’t reach for her without permission. 

“Well?” Naruto said, breathless but teasing. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me up?” She tried to push herself upright, arms trembling immediately. 

“Naruto,” he said, crossing the room in three quick steps. “You cannot— lay back down.” 

“You think I’m going to let a little sickness get the best of me?” she scoffed weakly, though her arms shook harder. He gave in with a sigh, sliding an arm carefully behind her shoulders and helping her sit. He moved slowly, then adjusted the pillows so she could lean back without straining. She was already panting from the effort. 

“It’s not just a sickness…"

“Yes… I know,” she whispered, brushing damp hair behind her ear. He hovered there, unsure what to do with himself. 

“Sit,” she commanded, patting the mattress beside her. 

“I shouldn’t.” It was already enough that he was invading her privacy like this; to sit on her bed as well would be too much even for him.   

“Please.” 

That plea burned away any resolve he had. He sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a respectful distance. She studied him with tired, slightly unfocused eyes. His chest tightened at the sight. He wanted to reach forward to hold her, to feel her heartbeat against his so that he knew she was alive. His hands shook with the effort not to act on such thoughts. 

“Minato…” she murmured, reaching out. Her fingers wrapped around one of his hands and guided it up to her face. She rested her cheek in his palm and sighed softly, nestling into the warmth. His breath hitched. His fingers twitched helplessly before his thumb began to move, stroking over her cheekbone. Her skin was cool, but she still looked beautiful. In fact, the sight of her breathing was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. She let go of his hand eventually, but he didn’t pull away. He traced her cheek, memorizing the feel of her. She closed her eyes, just breathing. 

“You saved us,” she whispered, opening her blue eyes again. 

He shook his head. “Naruto—” 

“You did,” she insisted. “You pulled us out, and the doctor said… he said you gave me the ‘kiss of life.’” A blush warmed her pale cheeks. “You breathed for me, you did the compressions that saved my life.” 

His hand stilled and slowly dropped from her face. “I should have been faster,” he choked out. “If I had been... maybe you wouldn’t be so sick. I don’t feel like much of a savior knowing that it'll be a while longer before you are okay.” 

“Well, you are,” she retorted stubbornly. “You’re my savior...and my brothers’. I won’t forget that, ever. I don’t think I could ever repay you.” 

“I don’t want payment,” he said, leaning closer without realizing. He brushed her hair back again, tucking it behind her ear. “I just want you to get better. Seeing you like this… it unsettles me. You’ve always been so full of life. Watching you tire from sitting up…” His voice broke. “It’s almost too much.” 

He cupped her face with both hands before he could stop himself. Her breath stuttered, and for a terrifying second, he thought she would start coughing, but instead she leaned forward and rested her forehead against his. He exhaled shakily. He had never been this close to her while she was awake. He refused to think about the earlier press of his lips to hers, the 'Kiss of Life' she had called it. She had been unconscious; it would not be right to count that as anything but what it was.   

“I’m going to be okay,” she murmured. “I’ll get better and when I do… I owe you a dance.” 

A soft, broken laugh left him, remembering their earlier bargain over Minato's housemaids' miraculous hangover cure. “I suppose you do.”  

“And it seems like you got my soul too, after all,” she muttered drowsily. His face went warm. He was almost certain she didn’t realize what she’d said or the meaning behind it. She started coughing a moment later. He gathered her against him, one arm around her shoulders, the other rubbing circles along her back.

“Shh… It’s alright. Let it out.” 

He forced himself not to think about how easily she fit against him, nor how thin the nightgown was. He could feel every curve that pressed against him. He pushed the thought away, calming his racing mind.     

The coughing finally eased, leaving her limp with exhaustion. She sagged against his chest, breath rasping softly in his ear. He stayed still until her breathing began to even out. Minato wondered if she had fallen asleep against him when she made no sound; he wouldn’t have minded. Gently, he eased her back against the pillows, adjusting them so she could rest comfortably. Her eyes fluttered open. 

“Rest, Naruto,” he whispered, brushing his fingers through her hair. 

“You’ve been… so different to me,” she mumbled. He paused, then continued smoothing her hair back. “I don’t understand why,” she added, words slurring as sleep pulled at her. 

A memory flickered to another night, where she muttered words so similar. He swallowed and tried not to think about the cruel words he had uttered before. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you,” he said instead. 

“I really hate it when you say that.” A smirk curved her lips. Her eyes closed, and this time she didn’t reopen them. 

He stayed there longer than he should have, memorizing the peaceful rise and fall of her breathing. He adjusted the blankets, tucked them closer around her shoulders, and brushed one last strand of hair from her face. He couldn’t stay a moment longer, or he was sure her brothers would beat down the door. 

He leaned down and paused, battling with himself until he gave in and pressed the lightest kiss to her brow. “Sleep well, Naruto.” 

He straightened, gave her one lingering look, and slipped out the door. Riki was waiting in the hall just to his right.  

“Your Grace,” she said, curtsying. 

“She’s asleep,” he told her. Riki nodded and went inside, closing the door behind her. Minato took a breath and stepped down the hall towards Menma's room.  He stopped before the door and knocked.

A young servant opened it, eyes widening in surprise. She dropped into a quick curtsy. “Your Grace.” 

“I’m sorry to intrude. I wanted to check on Menma. Is he awake?” 

“Yes, my lord. Please, come in.” 

Minato stepped inside, the air warm and faintly scented with herbs. Menma lay tucked beneath blankets much like Naruto had been, propped slightly on pillows. A book rested open on the bedside table; clearly, his maid had been reading to him before the interruption. 

“Minato!” Menma called, lifting his head with a bright grin that didn’t match the pallor of his face. Relief loosened Minato’s chest. The boy looked ill, with shadows under his eyes and lips a bit too pale; no doubt the infection was already settling in his lungs, but there was still a spark in him. 

“Hello, Menma,” Minato said, coming to the bedside. “I won’t stay long. I only wanted to see how you were feeling.” 

“I’m okay!” Menma declared and immediately broke into a cough. 

“My lord, softly please,” the maid, Maki, if Minato remembered right, said, pressing a small cup of water into his hands. “You’ll irritate your lungs.” 

Menma sipped obediently, then handed the cup back with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” 

Minato watched him, struck by the resemblance to Naruto. He had the same bright blue eyes as Naruto, ones inherited from their mother. Naruto and Menma were the only ones to have gotten the color. Menma also shared the same foxlike tilt to them when he smiled that was purely Naruto. Their smiles carried a mischievous energy that seemed to live just beneath the surface.  

If Menma had been born with blond hair instead of black, they might have been twins. He wondered privately if that was the reason Menma had stuck to Naruto more so than to his other siblings. Even though Sakumo spent a great deal of time with him, as they were the closest in age, Menma still sought after Naruto.  

But then again, Naruto, when her mother had passed, had really taken charge of Menma. He remembered how Naruto would rock him through fevers, argue with servants thrice her age about medicine, and fall asleep sitting up with the baby on her chest. It’s possible the young child had almost likened Naruto to his mother and didn’t even realize it. He was sure Naruto wouldn’t care if so. She truly loved and worried over him.  

Look at what she put herself through just to save him.   

“Maki said you saved Naru and me,” Menma said, beaming at him. “Thank you!” 

Minato’s throat tightened. “Of course, Menma. You’re very welcome.” 

“Is Naruto okay?” he asked innocently. 

Minato chose his next words carefully. “I just came from her room. She is resting now, but she will recover. Just as you will, with rest." He wasn’t sure if anyone had explained Naruto’s true condition to the boy or if they even wanted to. Menma nodded solemnly, accepting that with the simple trust only children possessed. 

“If you don’t mind, my lord,” Maki interrupted, “Menma truly needs to rest now.” 

“Of course.” Minato dipped his head. “Rest well, Menma. You’ll see your sister soon.” 

“Goodnight, Minato,” Menma mumbled, already settling back into the pillows. Minato slipped out, closing the door behind him. 

The house had grown quieter by the time he reached the family room. Most of the household had dispersed, exhaustion finally winning out, but Kakashi remained. He lay stretched along the couch in front of a low-burning fire, an empty glass of whisky dangling loosely from his fingers. The amber glow flickered over his pale face. 

“Kakashi,” Minato greeted. Kakashi sat up slowly and patted the cushion beside him. Minato joined him, studying his friend’s hollow expression. “Are you alright?” 

Kakashi let out a bitter laugh. “I almost lost two of the most important people in my life today… and I couldn’t do anything to save them.” His voice cracked. Tears filled his eyes before he could stop them. 

“It was a terrifying moment. Shock takes hold before you realize it. Don’t punish yourself for being human; it happens to the best of us.” 

“It didn’t happen to you,” Kakashi pointed out. Minato looked into the fire. He didn’t know how to explain that the thought of losing Naruto had burned away everything else — fear, hesitation, even reason. He had pushed himself as far as he possibly could to find them, almost drowning himself.  

“You saved them,” Kakashi continued. “While I just… stood there.” There was a note in Kakashi's voice that sounded like jealousy.   

“What's important is that they’re alive,” Minato redirected. “It doesn’t matter who saved them, only that they were saved at all.” 

Kakashi turned to him, eyes bright with unshed tears. “I won’t forget this, Minato. Do you understand? My sister and my brother are alive because of you.” His voice shook on the word alive. “Family is…the most important thing to me. We already lost our mother, and it did irreparable damage. I can’t even imagine what today would’ve looked like if we lost them too.” 

He reached up, gripping the back of Minato’s head and pressing their foreheads together. “Thank you,” Kakashi breathed. Minato pulled him into a tight embrace, letting him cry against his shoulder. He said nothing, just held him there while the tremors worked their way through his friend. 

The Uzumaki's were unlike any family Minato had ever known. 

There was no distance between them. It didn’t matter who was heir or who was a son or daughter. They were all equal and all loved. They clung to each other openly, fiercely, and without shame. 

It was no wonder Naruto had grown into the woman she was. A woman with a fiery spirit who could challenge a man’s. 

They were all comfortable with sharing emotions and being each other’s support, in privacy or in public. It was something Minato had to get used to the first time he and Kakashi met each other. They were only 5 at the time, but even then, Kakashi had hovered protectively over Yamato and Obito like a tiny guardian. And when baby Naruto arrived not long after, he’d simply widened his circle. 

Minato had grown up alone in a grand, echoing house. His mother had declared one heir was enough and refused to have any more children, even for Minato's sake. It's why his father wanted him to meet Kakashi in the first place. So that he would know more children his age and become more sociable. It had caused a huge fuss between his father and mother when he started to grow out of his shell more. His mother was not happy that her perfect son had started to behave a little more like a child his age, and not the cold shell he had been. His father wouldn’t hear of it, though, and put his foot down when she tried to stop him from visiting.  

The Uzumaki's hadn’t had children for legacy; they had children for love, and his mother just didn’t understand. She couldn’t understand why the late Viscountess would willingly keep having more children. Love wasn’t really a factor in his parents' marriage. He knew they were fond of each other, but love? No, that didn’t exist between the two, he was sure.  

Maybe if it had been, his mother wouldn’t have been so against his love for Naruto, wouldn’t have demanded he cut contact with her. Maybe she wouldn’t have forced him to turn cruel towards the young girl who had no idea why her friend had turned on her. 

A lot of things would have been different if love had been a factor in anything his mother said or did at all.  

For the next three days, Minato buried himself in work with a desperation that bordered on punishing. He had spent the night at the Uzumaki townhouse, exhaustion dragging him under the moment Kakashi had hauled him into his bedroom and dropped him face-first onto the mattress.  

When he woke, it was not to peace. It was to Sonya’s gentle but insistent hands on his shoulder. “Your Grace… you have received an urgent message from your mother.” 

Minato blinked blearily, mind still thick with sleep. It took him a moment to remember where he was. He pushed himself upright, every muscle protesting, and broke the seal on the letter. 

A section of livestock in the lower township had fallen ill, and several animals had died overnight. The estate physicians were unsure of the cause: sickness, contaminated water, or spoiled feed. His mother demanded to know whether the remaining animals should be culled immediately before the illness spread, or quarantined and observed. 

It was the sort of decision that cost money either way. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before swinging his legs off the bed. 

“Have the overseers isolate the remaining stock,” he said groggily. “Burn the carcasses, boil the water supply, and I want the land cleared and the soil tested before anything new is brought in.” 

Sonya nodded, already moving to help him dress. Before he left, he stopped in the hallway outside Naruto’s room. He stood there longer than he meant to, listening to nothing, wishing to hear the faint sound of her voice. 

“She’s still sleeping, Your Grace,” Riki whispered from down the hall. 

He nodded once. “Send word if anything changes.” Then he left. 

On the second day, an update came just after noon. Naruto and Menma had developed a fever. The dirty lake water they had inhaled was definitely the cause, just like the doctors warned. But they had expected this and were doing their best to maintain it.  

Minato stared at the letter for a long time after reading it. He wanted to drop everything and ride straight to the Uzumaki house, to sit at her bedside and care for her. To see for himself that she was still breathing. But his desk was buried beneath estate reports, tenant petitions, and trade disputes waiting on his signature. 

Responsibility did not pause for fear, and so he stayed. 

He signed orders, approved grain shipments, settled a boundary dispute between two farming families, and reviewed a bridge repair proposal. All the while, his mind replayed the sight of Naruto limp in his arms.

The Lady Whistledown paper arrived that evening. Minato almost didn’t open it, but when he did, he found not scandal but praise. The report spoke of bravery, of a devoted sister and a quick-thinking duke. Lady Whistledown wished the Uzumaki family well and expressed hope that Miss Uzumaki would recover in time to continue the season.  

Minato folded the paper slowly. He knew she wouldn’t be well enough, not for dances, not for promenades, and certainly not for being paraded before hungry-eyed suitors. The thought filled him with a selfish, guilty relief. 

By the third day, his study looked as though a storm had swept through it. Scrolls and ledgers lay stacked in uneven piles, and wax seals littered the desk. Reports from across his lands had arrived all at once: harvest projections, trade negotiations, tax summaries, new apprenticeship approvals, crumbling mill repairs, and a request for funding to rebuild a schoolhouse roof. 

Normally, he thrived on this work. Today, it felt meaningless. 

His pen hovered over a page, unmoving, as his mind drifted back to a pale face against white sheets and tired blue eyes. He signed the last document with a final stroke and set the pen down. 'Enough.'  

Tomorrow, he would go to her. Duties could wait a few hours. The estate would not crumble because he chose to sit beside the bed of the woman who almost died in his arms. 

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, exhaustion finally seeping in. “I’m coming back tomorrow, Naruto,” he mumbled to the empty room. 

Minato arrived just after lunch the next day, the sky outside a soft, hazy blue that did nothing to quiet the nervous energy humming beneath his skin. He nodded to the Uzumaki doorman, who let him in at once, and allowed himself to be led upstairs. His steps slowed as they neared the upper family room. He wasn’t sure what he would find, and his heart felt lodged in his throat. 

The door opened, and he was announced. He was greeted by a room filled with life.  

Menma was no longer confined to bed. The boy was propped carefully on one end of the long couch, pillows tucked around him like a small fortress. He still looked pale, but the grayish cast from before was gone. Color had returned faintly to his cheeks, and his eyes were bright with awareness. 

Jiraiya was absent, but the rest of the brothers filled the space in their own ways: Kakashi reading near the window, Yamato half-folded in a chair with a letter in his lap, Obito stretched on the floor, Sakumo by the mantle adjusting the fire even though it hardly needed it. It was the most normal thing Minato had seen in days. 

“Good afternoon,” he said, nodding to them all. 

“Minato! You came back!” Menma called, perking up immediately. Minato crossed the room and knelt beside the couch so they were eye level. 

“It’s good to see you out of bed, Menma. How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m better now that the fever’s passed,” Menma said proudly. “The doctors said my lungs sound stronger than last year. They seemed really surprised.” 

“That is amazing to hear,” Minato said warmly, meaning it more than the boy could ever possibly know. 

“Which is wonderful news,” Yamato added, coming over to ruffle Menma’s already wild black hair, “because Father says we’re teaching you to swim this summer.” 

Menma’s eyes went wide with excitement. 

“How have you been, Minato?” Yamato asked. 

“Dreadfully busy,” Minato sighed, rising. “It seems that in my absence, everything back home decided to go wrong at once. I’m trying to solve it all from here so I don’t have to return home too soon.” 

“No offense,” Obito said from the floor, “but I’m glad I don’t have your responsibilities. I’d last about a day before I set something on fire and ran away.” 

“You’d only enjoy the benefits that come with being a duke,” Minato smirked, and Obito grinned right back with a shrug. 

“Where is Jiraiya?” Minato asked. 

“Father’s been locked in his office all morning,” Kakashi replied without looking up from his book. “Estate matters.” 

Minato nodded. Responsibility truly was a plague with no borders. Before he could say more, a commotion sounded from the hallway. 

“My lady, please, return to bed at once. You are not ready to be walking!” came Riki’s strained voice. 

“I am perfectly capable of walking to the family room, Riki!” Naruto’s exasperated reply followed. 

Minato straightened instantly, hands slipping behind his back out of habit, heart thundering. 

Naruto appeared in the doorway moments later. She moved slowly, one hand braced against the wall, dressed in a light nightgown beneath a thick robe tied loosely at the waist. Her hair hung free, having been recently brushed. She was still pale, and there were shadows under her eyes, but she was upright and moving around. That was more than Minato had hoped for, prayed for, even.  

Relief rushed through him so fast it made him dizzy. 

“Naruto!” Kakashi said, dropping his book and hurrying to her side. Yamato followed with a blanket, draping it around her shoulders before guiding her gently to a chair. 

“We have a guest, Naruto. You can’t just wander around like that,” Kakashi scolded, though there was no real anger in his voice. Naruto shrugged, glancing around the room. Her gaze lingered a second too long on each face. 

“Hello, Naruto,” Minato greeted, stepping closer. Her eyes found him, and she lit up with a bright smile that made his chest ache. 

“Minato! I thought you were never coming back.” 

“I’ve been busy,” he said lightly. “I made a quick escape before Sonya could drag me back to my desk.” 

She laughed with a slight rasp. 

“Here, Naruto,” Sakumo said, offering her a glass of water. 

She looked at him, brow furrowing. Her mouth opened, then closed. “Thank you… Kakashi?” she said uncertainly. 

Sakumo froze for a fraction of a second but recovered with a smile. “It’s Sakumo, remember? Kakashi’s right there beside you.” 

Naruto blinked and turned. Kakashi gave her a reassuring look, but Minato saw the way his fingers tightened at his side. 

“Oh,” she murmured, looking down. “Sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” Kakashi responded quickly. “We do look alike.” 

This was the damage Jiraiya had spoken of, that the doctors had warned them about. To see it so plainly like this was heartbreaking.   

“How has your fever been?” Minato questioned, hoping to shift her focus. 

“It finally broke last night,” she said, “but I still feel like I’ve run a marathon. I just want some fresh air, but Riki is determined to keep me imprisoned.” 

“It’s for the best,” Kakashi soothed. “You shouldn’t exert yourself.” 

“Like stepping out the front door is going to do me in,” she scoffed. Kakashi exhaled but didn’t argue. 

“Minato,” Naruto continued, leaning forward slightly, “they’re also refusing to let me eat the chocolate you bought. Can you believe that? Denied life’s greatest joy while I’m sick. It's cruel.” 

The brothers groaned in unison. Clearly, this argument had been ongoing. 

“I agree. How dare they treat you so unjustly?” Minato chuckled. He lowered himself to sit on the floor in front of her, his back resting against the table. 

Naruto beamed at him. “See? Minato understands. He’s my new best friend now, in case you didn’t know.” 

“Because he saved your life?” Obito asked dryly. 

“No,” Naruto said seriously. “Because he bought me chocolate.” 

The room erupted in laughter. 

“A noble foundation for friendship.” Minato bowed his head solemnly. 

“This sudden peace between you two is still very confusing,” Sakumo said, shaking his head. 

“He finally realized how amazing I am and groveled before me on all fours.” Naruto shot him a sly grin. 

“Is that true?” Menma asked eagerly. 

Minato nodded gravely. “I was practically eating dirt.” 

Menma dissolved into giggles, and Naruto’s smile softened as she watched him. 

Minato let himself sit there, listening to their laughter, feeling the warmth of the room wrap around him. It felt good to joke with her like this, without snapping at each other. It felt normal, and Minato felt his heart burst with happiness.    

Minato was soaking in the peace that being near the Uzumaki family offered him when he noticed Naruto’s smile fade mid-breath. Her eyes lost focus, drifting past the room, past the people in it, past everything. It was almost like she wasn’t seeing them anymore. She tensed up, a confused frown working its way onto her face. 

Kakashi saw it a second later, dread washing over his features.  “Naruto… are you alright?” Kakashi asked carefully, leaning forward. Naruto jerked violently away from him as if burned, and horror flooded her face. 

“Where is my father?” she demanded, breath coming fast and shallow. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” 

The words shattered the warmth in the room. 

“Naruto, it’s me, Kakashi. I’m your brother, remember?” he said, voice cracking. 

She shook her head hard, scrambling backward. “Get away from me!” 

In her panic, she tried to stand too fast and tripped over Minato’s legs, sending her crashing to the floor. 

“Naruto!” the brothers shouted, rushing toward her. She kicked and twisted, letting out a raw scream that tore through the house. Servants burst through the doors, faces pale. 

“Get off me! Get off me!” she cried, tears spilling down her cheeks. Minato’s stomach dropped. She was actually terrified of them. She did not know them at all. Jiraiya rushed in, pushing past the others, and dropped to his knees, pulling her into his chest. 

“It’s alright, darling. I’m here. Calm yourself.” 

She clung to him desperately, fists twisting in his shirt. 

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re safe. You’re surrounded by family.” 

“I do not know them,” she sobbed. 

“You do. Look at their faces, remember their names,” he urged, but she buried her face deeper into him, shaking. 

Around them, devastation settled across everyone's faces. Menma was openly crying now, wiping his face on his sleeve. Even the servants stood frozen, hands pressed to their mouths. Minato slowly lowered himself onto his knees beside her. 

“Do you remember me, Naruto?” he breathed. She peeked out from Jiraiya’s shoulder, studying him. For a long moment, there was nothing, then she nodded slightly. 

“Yes… You are a massive prat.” 

A watery laugh broke from Minato. “That’s right. I am a prat.” He swallowed, steadying himself. 

“Look over there, to the young boy on the couch.” He gestured to Menma. “Do you remember him?” 

Naruto frowned and shook her head. 

“That’s okay, let me help you.” His voice softened. “He was so small when you first held him. I remember how well you took care of him; you wouldn’t even let anyone else carry him. You fed him, rocked him to sleep… he even slept in your room until he was big enough for his own bed.” 

Naruto’s eyes fixed on Menma. The boy had stopped crying, watching her like his whole world depended on it. 

“Menma,” she said hesitantly. 

Minato’s smile broke wide, relieved. “Yes, that’s Menma, your youngest brother. You share the same eyes, see?” She leaned out a little, studying him, tears slipping down her cheeks. 

“Now look at the other boy closest to him,” Minato urged. “He’s only a few years younger than you. Can you tell me his name?” 

She shook her head again. 

“Do you remember rolling down a big hill after it had rained for a whole week? None of your brothers would join you, but he did. You both came home covered head to toe in mud, and your mother nearly fainted. You tracked it through the whole house and had to be chased into the bath.” 

A breathless giggle escaped her. “Yes…  Sakumo had even let me splatter mud in his hair to see if he’d look like Yamato.” 

Yamato groaned while Sakumo smiled helplessly. 

“That’s right,” Minato said. “And Yamato is?” 

She pointed uncertainly, and Yamato’s responding grin was blinding.  “Can you tell me something you remember about him?” 

“I… I made him help me prank Father,” she said slowly. “We...we replaced the twine in his shoes with something thinner, so that every time he went to tie his shoes, it would break. We did this for a whole month, and he got so frustrated that he went barefoot for a while." 

"Naruto, we swore we would take that to our graves."  Yamato gasped in horror.

"I knew it wasn’t the lacing! I threw away some good shoes because of that." Jiraiya laughed.   

“And while Yamato helped sometimes,” Minato continued, “your true partner in crime was Obito. Can you find him?” 

She studied the two remaining boys, then pointed. Obito’s lips trembled into a smile. 

“One time, you had grown tired of my behavior. I had been acting like a right bastard,” she giggled softly at his wording, and he gave her a sheepish look, shoulders drooping in mock guilt. “So you concocted a plan with Obito. He would leave to gather some honey, while you would visit the farm not too far from the house. You innocently told Kakashi that it was a warm day and that he should take me for a swim. It would surely tire us out, and we came home exhausted. We practically passed out in bed." 

Kakashi groaned under his breath, already knowing where this was going, one hand dragging down his face. 

"You and Obito then snuck into the room I was sleeping in and proceeded to cover me, head to toe, in honey and chicken feathers. When I awoke the next day, I was so angry, but all you could do was laugh, and Obito had actually rolled around on the floor.” 

Obito lost it at that, pointing at Minato like the memory was still the funniest thing he’d ever witnessed. Naruto’s eyes widened, then squeezed shut as a laugh bubbled out of her, bright and breathless. 

“We got into so much trouble for that, but Father could hardly keep a straight face as he punished us,” she sniggered as the memory fully clicked into place. “You were like a puffed-up chicken.” 

Obito collapsed sideways onto the arm of the couch, howling. “And it is still the greatest prank we’ve ever pulled together,” Obito said, after calming down for a moment.  

“And on your right is your oldest brother.” Minato turned slightly, giving Naruto time to follow his gaze. “He’s always been so protective of you. It’s always baffled me how every time you were hurt or upset, he would know and be the first to comfort you, even before your father.” 

Naruto’s eyes shifted slowly toward Kakashi, uncertainty flickering there, but she didn’t look away. 

“He has always taken his duty as the oldest seriously. There wasn’t a day that went by when we were in school together that Kakashi didn’t talk about you.” Kakashi’s jaw tightened, his composure already thinning. “You sent letters to each other frequently. He was the one to teach you to wrestle properly and how to ride a horse.” 

Yamato smiled, remembering the many times he’d watched the two of them race. 

“It was he who begged your father to let you have your own space for a garden. He had noticed that you started to read more about gardening, and you would pester the hired help into letting you take over so that you could practice.” 

Naruto’s brows pulled together slightly. 

“Kakashi had even written a whole speech, I know, because he made me read it over. He wanted it so badly for you and wasn’t going to take no for an answer, but Jiraiya agreed before Kakashi could even finish reading it, so all that preparation went to waste. Still, he was the first to tell you the news, and you hugged him so tight in thanks that he actually cried.” 

Naruto’s face crumpled. Tears filled her eyes, spilling over as emotion rushed back in faster than she could hold it. Her hand lifted, trembling, reaching toward him. “Kakashi…” 

Kakashi crossed the space between them and gathered her from Jiraiya’s arms, holding her close like he used to when she was small enough to sit on his hip. 

“How did you know that would work?” Jiraiya breathed in awe. Minato didn’t look away from Naruto as her brothers gathered around her, holding her close. 

“I haven’t been idle since I learned of her condition,” he replied. “Whenever I wasn’t buried in paperwork, I was reading anything I could find about brain injuries and memory loss.” He swallowed, emotion tightening his throat. “I came across a theory that memories tied to strong emotions are the hardest to lose… and the easiest to find again, if someone helps guide you back to them.” 

His gaze softened as Naruto clung to Kakashi harder. 

“I thought… if we told her stories of moments she felt deeply, maybe it would help her remember who she is, who you all are….It seems I was correct.” He let out a shaky breath. “I’ve never been more grateful to be right in my life.” 

Jiraiya studied Minato with a new expression, one Minato didn't want to examine too closely. “You did all that… for her?” 

Minato nodded, his throat too tight to respond verbally. He wasn’t sure he trusted his voice not to break if he tried to answer aloud. 

“I see.” 

Naruto slowly pulled away from her brothers then, her movements still weak and unsteady. For a moment, she just looked at Minato, like she was making sure he was really there. Then she shifted, crawling across the rug toward him. 

“Easy,” Kakashi murmured, but he didn’t stop her. She reached him and wrapped her shaking arms around his neck. Minato didn’t hesitate to respond; his arms came around her waist, drawing her close. He bowed his head and pressed his face into the crook of her neck, breathing her in. 

He didn’t care that everyone was watching or about propriety. All he could hear was the echo of her earlier screams, the terror in her voice when she hadn’t known them, and see the hollow look in her eyes when she’d stared at her own family like strangers. It had frightened him almost as much as seeing her lifeless in his arms at the lake’s edge. That had been death of the body. 

This...this had felt like losing her soul. Like the Naruto he knew had vanished, leaving behind a scared girl lost in the dark. He tightened his hold, afraid she might slip away again. He couldn’t bear it if her memories disappeared for good because if she lost who she was… he would lose her too. 

And a part of Minato would go with her. 

Naruto rubbed at her temple, wincing as a dull ache began to bloom behind her eyes. The name was right there, she could feel it perched at the edge of her mind like a word on the tip of her tongue. The boy in front of her didn’t rush her. He just smiled patiently, like he knew she would get there eventually. 

“I helped you hide Kakashi's school books once, because he wouldn’t play with us and only wanted to stay in his rooms for the summer.” 

The memory clicked into place; the two of them dragging an armful of books down a hallway, the blank look on Kakashi's face when he discovered the empty shelf. “Sakumo,” she said, snapping her fingers as the name finally surfaced. 

His grin widened, and he nodded proudly.

Moments like that had become part of their new normal. Since Minato’s idea had worked, the family had made it into a routine. If Naruto stumbled over a name or a face, someone would offer a memory— a thread to follow back to herself. 

She hadn’t had another full panic since the last one, but the gaps were still there. Names slipped away, places blurred. Once, she’d walked confidently into Obito’s bedroom, thinking it was hers, only to realize it wasn't when she saw his mess of boots by the bed. 

It had been one week and four days since the lake. 

One week and four days since she had nearly died. 

Her lungs had healed faster than expected, and her strength had mostly returned. She could walk without trembling now, could even climb the stairs without gasping. 

Her body was recovering. Her mind… was trying. It was frustrating and disheartening, but Naruto had never been one to stay down. Like hell she was going to let this defeat her. 

Still… today had been harder than most. Prince Gaara had tried to visit, and Sasuke too. Several other suitors had sent cards, flowers, and inquiries, but her father had turned them all away. Even Hinata had been denied entry, and Naruto had snapped at everyone afterward, the argument leaving her with a splitting headache that turned her thoughts to fog. 

She felt like a prized bird locked in a gilded cage. She wanted air, needed to feel the sun on her skin, to see signs of life outside of these walls.

Naruto blinked rapidly as tears stung her eyes. It was lunch time, her family gathered around the table, but her plate remained untouched. She’d pushed food around more than she’d eaten. 

Couldn’t they just let her out for an hour? For a short walk or even a carriage ride? They could come with her and hover if they wanted, but they just wouldn’t listen. 

Her chair scraped softly as she stood. 

“Darling? Where are you going?” her father queried. “You’ve barely eaten anything.” 

“Back to my rooms, I'm not hungry,” she mumbled, refusing to meet any of their eyes. She didn’t see the looks that passed between her brothers as she left. She paused by a window, watching carriages roll past, people strolling along the street in the warm afternoon light. Laughter drifted faintly through the glass. 

Her chest tightened. She should be out there, but instead, she was in here, trapped and watched closely.

A stray tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, annoyed at herself. She couldn’t even sneak out the way she used to. What if she forgot where she was? Forgot how to get home? 

She pushed open her bedroom door and gave Riki a wave to leave her be. The maid hesitated, worry plain on her face, but curtsied and slipped out, closing the door softly. Naruto crossed the room and sank onto her bed, turning toward the window. Sunlight spilled across the floor, just out of reach. 

She missed the warmth on her skin…missed the wind in her hair. She would take a stuffy ballroom over this prison. 

Later that afternoon, the doctor came again. He asked the same questions as before. How was her appetite? How was her breathing? Any dizziness? How often were the headaches? How was her memory today? 

Naruto stayed lying down, eyes on the window as clouds drifted lazily across the sky, as she answered him. They did this every few days now, so she was used to it. When he finally left, the room felt too small.

Naruto closed her eyes and allowed exhaustion to pull her under. Sleep came more easily these days. She dreamed of open fields and tall grass brushing her fingertips. She was small again, barefoot, chasing butterflies beneath a wide blue sky. 

The moment the doctor stepped into the family room, every conversation died. Jiraiya rose halfway from his chair, hands braced on the arms.

“Well?” he implored. “What is the verdict?” 

Around him, his sons had gone still. Kakashi leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Yamato’s hand rested on Obito’s shoulder. Sakumo sat with Menma tucked quietly against him. Minato had arrived only moments earlier, still carrying the tension of the last few days in the rigid line of his posture. His eyes never left the doctor’s face. 

The doctor let out a slow breath and clasped his hands behind his back. “My lord, I believe Miss Uzumaki is suffering from melancholia. It is not a new concept, but the causes for it have been studied more extensively in recent years. Think of it as… a mood disorder. It causes what we call a depressive state — bouts of irritability, unusual sleepiness, and deep despondency. It can lessen her appetite, as you’ve observed, or bring on spells of profound sadness.” 

“What has caused this?” Kakashi swallowed. The doctor nodded as though he had expected the question. 

“I would most likely attribute it to her near brush with death, combined with prolonged confinement. She told me several times that she feels trapped. She did not sit up to speak with me, and she remained in bed the entire visit and stared out the window. That is a significant change from her demeanor only days ago.” 

Jiraiya’s jaw tightened. 

“She must have been feeling this way for some time,” the doctor added gently, “but it has only manifested clearly in these past few days.” 

"What do you recommend for treatment?” 

“I would suggest allowing her to spend time outdoors. Let her have fresh air, sunlight, and familiar company. A change of pace is essential. Let her see friends, perhaps even allow her to receive calls from a few suitors — normalcy will help restore her spirits.” 

Kakashi’s head snapped up. His mouth opened in protest, but Yamato shot him a sharp warning look. After a moment, Kakashi pressed his lips together and said nothing. 

“You do not think her being out in society again would harm her physical recovery?” Jiraiya asked, desperation edging into his voice. 

The doctor hesitated just a fraction before answering. “My lord… I must be honest. Many who suffer from melancholia, who cannot find a way to pull themselves out of that state, begin to seek any means to feel something different from the emptiness they are trapped in.” 

The room went deathly still. 

“This can lead to reckless behavior,” the doctor said carefully, “or… in severe cases… a desire to end their own lives.” 

Jiraiya’s mouth fell open, and the color drained from his face. Minato's hands curled into fists at his sides as his mind conjured the image of a lifeless Naruto. Kakashi bent forward, head in his hands, shoulders shaking. Yamato pulled Obito close as the younger brother trembled violently. Sakumo held Menma tighter, though the boy only looked confused, not fully understanding. 

“Taking her own life…” Jiraiya whispered hoarsely. “Are… are you certain?” 

“I have seen it, my lord,” the doctor responded. “More than once.” 

Jiraiya nodded numbly. “Thank you, doctor.” 

The man bowed and was led out, the door closing with a soft click. For a long moment, no one moved. Jiraiya stared at the floor, horror and guilt warring across his face. 

Had they done this? Had trying to protect her… broken her instead? 

He remembered her pleading, 'Just one walk, Father, just a moment of air,' and him refusing, believing he was doing the right thing. 

“It… it makes sense,” Minato murmured. Every head turned toward him, but he didn’t seem to notice. “She has always been a free spirit, never one to stay still. These past days she’s been caged — by the house, by her condition…By us.” 

Jiraiya closed his eyes briefly. They had been so afraid of losing her again… they hadn’t seen her spirit slipping away. They would have to change. They would have to let her live again before the light in her dimmed any further. 

Naruto slept through the entire night. 

Normally, that would have pleased Riki; rest was a blessing after everything her lady had endured, but this sleep had been too heavy. She had checked on her more than once, hovering in the doorway with a candle, watching Naruto’s chest rise and fall just to be certain. 

When Naruto finally stirred, sunlight was already bright across the curtains. It was nearly midday. Riki hurried to her bedside the moment she saw those blue eyes open. 

“Good morning, my lady,” she greeted, smoothing a hand over the blanket. “Would you care for a bath? I was just preparing one for you.” 

Naruto gave a nod, but no words came. Riki twisted her hands together, unease tightening in her chest. Lord Jiraiya’s quiet talk with her earlier that morning echoed in her mind, 'Watch her closely… keep her engaged… don’t leave her alone too long.' 

She stepped back as Naruto slowly pushed herself upright. Her movements were steadier than they had been days ago, her strength clearly returning… but her face was distant, eyes glassy, expression blank enough to make Riki’s heart ache. 

She guided Naruto to the bath and helped her step in, the warm water sending up curls of steam. As she worked, Riki did what she always did: she talked. She told Naruto about the gossip she had gathered over the past few days, her voice animated even if her audience was quiet. She carefully washed the long golden strands of hair she had always adored tending, fingers gentle as she massaged soap through them. 

“Did you hear,” she began, “Lord Jirobo was caught with the cook? By his own wife, no less. She packed her things that same day and left him to stew in his own disgrace.” 

Naruto didn’t react. Her gaze stayed fixed on the window across the room, as though the world outside it mattered more than anything Riki said. Riki swallowed and kept going anyway. 

This had always been their ritual. As a servant, Riki overheard everything (whispered scandals, secret engagements, ruined reputations), and Naruto had lived for those stories. She would laugh, gasp, and file the information away for later use against a particularly cruel member of the ton. 

In Riki’s eyes, her mistress had always been too good for them all. The Uzumakis were different from other noble families, kinder. Riki had never once been shouted at, never struck, never made to feel small. She had heard horror stories from other houses, servants forbidden to speak, maids hidden away out of jealous paranoia, cruelty passed off as discipline. 

Here, she had been given dignity, and Naruto… Naruto had always treated her like a person. 

Riki ran a cloth down Naruto’s back and frowned at the sharpness of her shoulders. Her lady had lost weight. She hadn’t been eating well, which was unlike her entirely. 

'But today would be different,' Riki told herself firmly. Today, there would be a picnic in the square, hosted by Lord Jiraiya to get Naruto out of the house and into the fresh air she so desperately craved. 

Carefully, she helped Naruto step from the bath and wrapped a robe around her shoulders before leading her to the vanity. “Let’s do something different today, my lady,” Riki smiled as she towel-dried her hair. 

She brushed through the damp strands patiently, letting them dry in the warm air before styling them. Instead of pinning it up in an elaborate arrangement, she left it mostly free, only drawing the sides back with delicate pins. The ends she curled just slightly; it was Naruto’s favorite look. Her hair had always been her pride, long and thick, only trimmed a handful of times in her life. 

Riki crossed to the wardrobe and returned with a soft orange dress, the bodice dotted with tiny white crystals that caught the light, and a white ribbon beneath the bust that would tie neatly at the back. 

“Let’s wear this today?” she said, holding it up with hopeful eyes. Naruto glanced at it, then gave another small nod. Riki’s smile wavered, but she kept her tone bright as she helped her dress. 

She couldn’t bear seeing her mistress like this: not laughing, not sharp-tongued, not full of restless energy. In some ways, this quietness was even more frightening than the blank, lost look Naruto got during her memory lapses. 

'Please let today help,' Riki prayed as she tied the ribbon and smoothed the skirt. 'Let the sun bring her back to us.' 

Naruto sat in the downstairs receiving room, hands folded in her lap, gaze fixed on the bright square of sunlight spilling through the window. She hadn’t moved in several minutes, had barely even blinked. 

Jiraiya paused in the doorway before approaching her, taking in the stillness of his daughter. It wasn’t natural on her. Naruto had always been motion, noise, and laughter.

“Hello, darling. How are you feeling today?” he inquired, coming to stand beside her chair. 

“I am fine,” she whispered, the first words she had spoken all morning. Across the room, Riki shifted her weight from foot to foot, worry plain on her face. 

“Well… I’m glad,” Jiraiya swallowed. His eyes drifted to the window. “It is a beautiful day out, wouldn’t you agree?” 

“I wouldn’t know.”

The words landed heavily, and Jiraiya felt guilt twist in his chest. How had he not seen it sooner, the way her spirit had been dimming day by day? 

“Well,” he said after a moment, forcing warmth into his voice, “why don’t we change that?” He held out his hand. 

Naruto finally turned to look at him. Her eyes were still dulled, but there was the faintest flicker of curiosity there. 

“What?” 

“Come, I have prepared a surprise for you.” 

She hesitated, then reached up and placed her hand in his. Her fingers felt smaller than he remembered as he helped her to her feet. They walked slowly toward the front doors. The doorman straightened immediately, opening them at Jiraiya’s nod. Sunlight flooded the entryway, and Naruto stopped at the threshold. 

“Are… are you letting me go out?” she stammered.

Jiraiya looked down at her, heart aching. “I figured, with how well you’re recovering, we could see what you’re up to doing. Let us see how a walk treats you.” 

She swallowed and took a cautious step into the light, then another. The moment the sun touched her fully, Naruto drew in a deep breath and tipped her face upward, eyes closing as warmth kissed her skin. It was such a small thing, but Jiraiya felt his throat tighten. He guided her down the steps and through the gate, keeping his pace slow, letting her set the rhythm. 

They didn’t speak for a long while. He let her take everything in: the sound of carriage wheels on cobblestone, distant laughter, the chatter of vendors, birds flitting from rooftop to rooftop. People noticed her immediately. Lords and ladies paused mid-conversation, surprise softening into genuine smiles as they bowed. Children waved excitedly, a few of the same ones Naruto had once played games with in the square. 

Naruto breathed deeply, eyes closing again as the breeze lifted strands of her hair. As they drew closer to the town square, where her brothers were already waiting with a picnic, Jiraiya noticed a change in her. Color crept back into her cheeks, the tightness around her mouth eased, and her eyes began to focus again. She even smiled softly at a passing babe bundled in its nursemaid’s arms. 

Jiraiya let out a shaky breath of relief. Naruto was truly like a flower; she needed the sun, air, and life around her. Shut away too long, she wilted. 

'Never again,' he promised himself. Even if it had been done for her health, he should have listened when she begged for fresh air… when she asked to see Hinata… when she simply wanted to step outside for a moment. 

Fear had ruled him. Seeing both his children pulled lifeless from the lake had cracked something deep in his chest. Naruto’s still face had looked too much like her mother’s the day she died. He had stood helpless while doctors and Minato worked desperately to bring them back. He had never been more grateful in his life than when they breathed again. 

But then came Naruto's memory lapses, along with confusion and terror. The first time it happened, it struck without warning. They didn’t yet know the signs, so they didn't realize until too late. When she had asked, so softly, 'Where am I? Who are you?' Jiraiya had thought his heart might stop. 

They had tried to hold her still as she fought them in panic. He would never forget that, and he swore he would never let it happen that way again. The last episode had been gentler only in that she had remembered him. She had clung to him and wept, still afraid of her brothers… afraid of Minato. He knew they would all carry the memory of that horror in her eyes when she looked at them and saw strangers. 

Now, watching her, watching life slowly return to her face, he clung to hope. He prayed that time would heal her mind. That Minato’s idea, to guide her back with memories and the emotions tied to them, would continue to work the way it had. Because Jiraiya wasn’t sure his heart could survive losing her twice. 

His gaze drifted from Naruto to the young duke standing a distance away. That boy…He had truly grown. He wasn’t a boy anymore but a man. 

Minato had pulled both his children from the water with his own strength. He had remained at their side through the worst of it, pale and shaking but refusing to leave. He had buried himself in medical texts and scholars’ notes to better understand Naruto’s condition, had worked himself to the bone trying to juggle his responsibilities while helping them care for Naruto and Menma.  

Jiraiya did not know how he had missed something so enormous as the Duke being in love with his daughter.  

The realization had come to him the day Naruto’s memories had come rushing back. He had looked up to see Minato kneeling just beyond the ring of brothers. The relief on his face had been devastatingly raw. The careful composure Minato wore like armor had shattered completely. His eyes had filled with tears, his breathing shallow. His hands had trembled at his sides as if he had just survived a battle of his own. 

That was not the reaction of a polite family friend. And now that Jiraiya saw it, he could trace it backward through the years like a thread he’d somehow overlooked. 

Even when they had been at each other’s throats, when Naruto had stormed from rooms, and Minato had snapped back with cutting remarks, there had always been something else in his eyes. Jiraiya had thought it was irritation or arrogance. But no, it had been fear. Fear of losing her attention, fear of saying the wrong thing, and pushing her too far. Fear of wanting too much and having no right to want it at all.  

Fear that he would be caught, that his feelings would be revealed.  

Even as a boy, Minato had orbited Naruto in ways Jiraiya had dismissed as childish rivalry. The teasing, the arguments, the way he would needle her just to get a reaction and then smile so brightly when she fired back, as if her temper was a prize he’d managed to win. Jiraiya remembered times he had scolded Minato for being too cruel to her. The boy had always looked stricken afterward, guilty, but his behavior never changed, not once.  

How long had Minato carried this? Years, clearly. Long enough to bury it so deep that even Jiraiya, who prided himself on reading people, had missed it entirely. Why hide it, though? Was he ashamed of loving her? Had he been, back then? 

Jiraiya’s jaw tightened at the thought. Naruto had always been a force of nature. Not the quiet, polished lady many noble mothers or fathers would prefer for their sons. Had Minato’s family discouraged it? Had someone taught him that loving a girl like Naruto was… inconvenient? Jiraiya didn’t know, but he wanted to ask. Gods, he wanted to demand answers. 

But he also knew the look of a man who had carried something alone for a long time. He wasn’t sure dragging it into the light would help. 

Did Naruto know? 

Jiraiya scoffed silently. No, his daughter had never been subtle with her heart. If she had even suspected Minato’s feelings, the entire household would have known within the hour. She had been so certain of her hatred for him until recently, until that night at the ball, when she’d come home shaken after her encounter with Danzo and spoken, grudgingly, about how Minato had helped her. 

After that, something had shifted between them. The sharpest edges of her anger had dulled, her tone when she spoke of Minato had changed, just a fraction fonder. Jiraiya had noticed but didn’t think anything of it.  Now he wondered if that night had been the first crack in a wall Minato had been patiently waiting years to see fall. 

Was Minato her true love match? Jiraiya had only ever wanted one thing for his children: love. He didn’t care for titles or the prestige that came with certain family names, and he made sure his children felt the same. Had raised them to look for love before looking for anything else.  

The kind of love that held steady when the world fell apart. The kind that dove into dark water without hesitation. And whether Minato had meant to or not…He had already proven he was capable of exactly that. 

Jiraiya held onto that thought as they approached the gazebo where his sons and Minato waited. The midday sun filtered through the latticework overhead, dappling the stone floor in warm patches of gold. A table had been set with light food and drinks, and soft cushions lay across the chairs. 

They all stood the moment they saw them. Naruto noticed immediately, her brows lifting in mild confusion before her lips curved into a bright smile, brighter than Jiraiya had seen in over a week. 

“What are you all doing here?” she asked. Relief bloomed in every chest around her at the sound of her voice. 

“What, like we can’t enjoy the sun too?” Obito said, stepping forward. He took her arm from Jiraiya and guided her toward an empty cushioned chair beneath the gazebo’s shade. She sat, smoothing her dress over her knees, taking in the familiar faces gathering around her. 

“Where is Yamato?” Naruto asked, turning her head to look around. 

“I’m here.” 

Naruto twisted in her seat just in time to see Yamato stepping forward. Something small and orange wriggled in his arms. Yamato lowered himself, and the moment his hold loosened, the fox leapt free in a streak of russet fur and white-tipped tail. 

“Kurama!” Naruto cried. She dropped to her knees without a second thought, arms opening just as the fox collided with her chest. High, excited yips filled the air as he scrambled against her, licking at her cheeks, her chin, her nose. Naruto burst into laughter as she buried her hands in his thick fur. 

“Oh, Kurama, I’ve missed you,” she murmured, scratching behind his ears, along his neck, down his belly the way he liked. “It’s just not the same without you here.” 

The fox wiggled, paws kneading at her dress before settling when she stood and returned to her seat with him bundled in her arms. He curled into her lap, tail flicking once before going still. 

“You sent for him?” she asked, looking at Jiraiya with surprise. 

“It was Obito’s idea first,” Jiraiya admitted. “He suggested bringing Kurama while you were still in bed, to bring you comfort while you were healing. We sent someone yesterday to fetch him and his things. He’ll stay as long as you like.” 

Naruto’s smile turned radiant. She stroked Kurama’s back slowly, fingers combing through his fur. Kurama, meanwhile, surveyed the table like a tiny monarch inspecting his court. For a fox, he carried himself with dignity. His orange-gold eyes moved from face to face, lingering briefly on each brother before settling on Minato, holding the Duke’s gaze. He gave a short, judgmental yip. 

Naruto leaned closer to his ear. “Yeah, I know,” she whispered conspiratorially. “But he’s different now, I promise.” 

Jiraiya watched the exchange with wonder. Sometimes, he truly believed Naruto and that fox shared a language no one else could hear. 

Kakashi leaned forward slowly, extending a hand. Kurama gave him a long, assessing look, then allowed the touch, tolerating the gentle scratch beneath his chin. 

“Shall we eat?” Jiraiya gestured, leaning forward to serve himself from the platters arranged across the low table. The invitation broke the stillness, but no one rushed. More importantly, no one rushed to Naruto. 

It went against every instinct Jiraiya had as a father, every instinct her brothers had as well, to not hover, not fuss, not immediately reach in to cut her food or pour her drink. The doctor’s words echoed clearly in all their minds. She needed independence and normalcy. She needed room to breathe without hands constantly helping her. So they let her move at her own pace. 

Yamato quietly slid a small wooden bowl toward her, filled with rare bits of meat. “For Kurama.” 

Naruto smiled gratefully and bent to set the bowl on the ground. Kurama hopped down, giving a pleased little yip before burying his nose into the food. 

The sounds of cutlery and shifting plates filled the gazebo. For a while, no one spoke. Jiraiya ate slowly, but his gaze was not entirely on his plate. Now that the realization had taken root, he found it impossible not to watch Minato. He wanted to know the truth for himself. Had he truly been blind all these years? Or had Minato simply become very, very good at hiding what he felt? 

Across the table, Minato sat, his posture perfect, his movements slow, his face carefully blank. To anyone else, he might have looked reserved. But Jiraiya noticed beyond the image painted before him. 

Minato’s eyes flicked toward Naruto again and again, never lingering long enough to be obvious, but always returning. He tracked her hands when she reached for food, watched the slight tremble of her fingers as she cut something, and noted how steadily she lifted each bite to her mouth. 

Every time she reached, Minato’s hand twitched faintly on the table. A reflex, to reach out and help. One he strangled down each time, jaw tightening just slightly before he forced himself to look back at his own plate. Naruto, unaware, kept eating, eating more than she had in days. 

Each bite seemed to ease the tightness inside Minato. His shoulders, which had been held almost imperceptibly high, lowered bit by bit. He watched her finish one piece, then another. When Naruto’s cup finally emptied, Minato’s hand moved automatically toward the pitcher in the center of the table, but he caught himself halfway. His fingers curled back, redirecting instead to his own cup as though he hadn’t almost revealed that he’d been watching Naruto closely enough to notice the exact moment her drink ran dry. 

Like he hadn’t already memorized the pace at which she ate and sipped her water. 

Jiraiya looked down at his plate, blinking. They had all been blind…Willfully, stubbornly blind. Because the truth was sitting right there in front of them, trying desperately not to be seen. 

Minato Namikaze was in love with his daughter...and he was doing a damn good job at keeping it hidden. 

Jiraiya wanted to know why. 

For the rest of the day, they kept Naruto outside. They walked her through the square, over the small bridge in the park, past the baker who bowed so low he nearly tipped forward. They let her set the pace, let her choose where to stop, when to sit. They did it again the next day and the next. 

The doctors had been right. Naruto improved rapidly once she was allowed back into the world. Her headaches lessened, and her eyes stayed clear more often than not. She woke in the mornings with energy instead of heaviness. She ate, finishing meals and asking for seconds, which nearly made Riki cry on the spot. Each day, she came back to them a little more, and with every small victory, the tension in her family loosened. 

They even let her visit Hinata. That visit had stretched far longer than intended, the two of them tucked away in Hinata’s sitting room. Naruto had needed that, needed someone who understood things her brothers never could. Not because they didn’t try, but because there were simply parts of being a woman in society that men, no matter how loving, could not feel in their bones. 

Her biggest surprise came two days later. 

Naruto had been sitting in the upstairs family room when footsteps echoed down the hall. She glanced up absently and then gasped, shooting to her feet. 

“Itachi!” 

She crossed the room quickly and threw her arms around him before she could stop herself. He had grown. He had always been handsome, even as a boy, but now he stood tall, dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail, sharp features gentled by age. He returned the hug carefully.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, pulling back, eyes shining. “Where is Mikasa?” she added, peering toward the doorway. Instead, she saw Sasuke there, offering her a small, relieved smile. 

“She is home, Naruto,” Itachi said. “Sasuke wrote to me about the accident, so I decided to come see you for myself. Mikasa is close to giving birth, so she stayed behind, but she sends her love.” 

Naruto hadn’t truly spoken to Itachi in years. The last time they’d shared more than passing words had been before everything changed between their families, before expectations, alliances, and social standing had begun to weigh heavier than childhood bonds. 

“How are you, Naruto?” Sasuke asked, stepping closer to stand beside his brother. 

“I’m doing better, finally,” she sighed. She led them to the couch. Kakashi rose without a word, giving them his seat beside her. 

“We were worried,” Sasuke said. “When you didn’t appear at any events last week… people feared the worst. Some thought your family was in mourning.” 

“People were worried?” Naruto scoffed. 

“Naruto,” Sasuke said softly, “the Queen’s favor is not a small thing. And now… people are more curious about you than ever.” 

She frowned. “Why?” 

“Because you jumped into a lake to save your brother,” Itachi said, pride warming his voice. “And nearly drowned yourself doing it. That is not something most ladies of society would do.” 

“What? They think I should have let him die?” she snapped. 

“Not at all,” Sasuke inserted quickly. “They think it was the bravest thing they’ve ever seen. Many feel ashamed for how they treated you before.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yes,” Itachi smiled. “Oh.” 

“Well,” she muttered, folding her hands in her lap, “at least my absence scared off some suitors. Besides Sasuke and Prince Gaara, no one else has tried to visit. Surely, their attention has been caught by the other debutantes now.” 

Sasuke cleared his throat. Across the room, every brother suddenly found something very interesting about the ceiling, the curtains, the bookshelf — anywhere but her. 

“What was that look for?” Naruto narrowed her eyes. 

“It seems,” Sasuke spoke carefully, “you are more unaware of events outside your home than I realized.” 

She turned sharply. “Kakashi? What’s going on?” 

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he said too quickly. “We have it handled.” 

“Have what handled?” 

Kakashi fidgeted, turning to Yamato with a pleading look. The only brother that wasn’t present was Menma, who was outside in the backyard with Kurama. Yamato sighed and closed the book he’d been pretending to read upside down. 

“Naruto… your… act of bravery has endeared you even more to the men of the ton. They’ve been coming every day...in droves.” 

Her mouth fell open. “How was I not aware of this?” 

“You were unwell,” Yamato said, sending her a gentle look. “It wasn’t something you needed to deal with. We’ve kept it under control. Father wasn’t even sure you’d finish the season, so why encourage them?” 

“But I am finishing the season,” she said firmly. “I’m better now.” 

“It’s true your body has healed, your lungs are stronger than ever,” Yamato said. “Your... mood has improved, but that’s not Father’s concern.” 

“He’s worried I’ll have an episode again… isn’t he?” She looked down with a frown. 

“Episode?” Sasuke frowned.

"It seems the damage extended far beyond my lungs…I suffered from brain damage as well. I was already struggling to breathe in air while swimming in the dress I was wearing, and when I went under…” she trailed off, eyes distant. Kakashi sat up, but sighed when she smiled at him. She had just been caught in the memory of that day. She wasn’t slipping into another episode.   

“For a while,” she continued, “I had memory lapses. I would forget people, names, and sometimes… everything. I wouldn't recognize my own family. I was terrified of them.” 

Sasuke’s gloved hand tightened around hers. 

“But you’re improving?” Itachi probed. 

“I am. The last few days have been good, better than most,” she responded with a proud smile. 

"You haven’t even had a headache today,” Obito said, reaching over to ruffle her hair. 

“I’m relieved,” Sasuke sighed, lifting her hand to press a light kiss to her knuckles. 

She rolled her eyes. “It’s good that you were allowed in, anyway. I need to know what’s been happening; they won’t even let me read that Lady Whistledown paper, and they’ve roped Minato into not telling me anything either.” 

Sasuke straightened, a small frown working onto his face. “The Duke has been visiting?”  He questioned, searching her face.  

“Mhm, Minato did save my life. He’s been very helpful with my memory problems. Actually, he was the one to figure out how to bring me back if I started... drifting.” 

“I didn’t know you were on friendly terms."

“Well, it’s a recent development. It’s true we had our issues when we were younger, but things have changed,” she admitted. “We’ve both changed, so we put it behind us and are now friends.” She paused, then added with a small smirk, “He can still be a bastard, though.” 

“I see,” Sasuke nodded, releasing her hand at last, though his gaze lingered. 

Naruto very pointedly did not think about the flutter in her stomach when she thought about the blonde-haired Duke. Not about the way his thumb had brushed her cheek in her bedroom, not about how he had held her after her mind slipped away, how solid he had felt, how safe. How his face had tucked into the curve of her neck. And she most certainly did not think about how firm his chest had been beneath her palms. No, absolutely not. 

She cleared her throat a little too loudly and turned back to Sasuke with a bright, overly practiced smile. 

Minato had saved her life; that was all. It was only natural she’d think about him. In a completely normal, entirely reasonable, very friendly way. Because they were friends now, just friends…Nothing else. 

Ever. 

Naruto exhaled slowly through her nose. Her mind had been circling back to Minato far more often than she was comfortable with. It used to be easy to push him out of her thoughts. For four whole years, she had done it without effort. If Kakashi mentioned him, she tuned him out. If Minato were visiting, she would find a reason to be elsewhere. If his name appeared in conversation, she rolled her eyes and moved on. She had hated him. Hated how cold he was, how cutting. Hated how he made her feel small and foolish. He had been arrogant and cruel to her far too many times. But now… 

Now he had come back different. He had apologized. He had stood in front of her and taken responsibility for the hurt he caused. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he had dived into a lake and dragged her back from death. 

He had changed. He was kinder, kinder in a way she had never known him to be before, and that kindness had shown her a side of Minato she hadn’t known existed. A side she…a side she liked far too much. 

Naruto pressed her lips together. Maybe it was the brain damage. Yes, that had to be it. Her mind was probably clinging to the person who had saved her life. A trauma response, completely logical. She nodded to herself. Yes, that was definitely it. 

Her thoughts drifted back to him anyway. She scowled, frustrated, and pushed abruptly to her feet. The movement was so sudden that Obito nearly knocked his cup over. “Naruto?”

“I’m fine, just…” She dragged a hand down her face, searching for an excuse that didn’t involve Minato’s stupid, handsome face invading her thoughts again. “Can Sasuke take me on a walk?” 

The Conversations around her faltered as their heads lifted. 

“Of course he can,” Kakashi said, eyes narrowing just a fraction as he studied her expression. “If he is willing.” 

Sasuke was already on his feet. “Of course, I’d be honored.” 

Naruto nodded once and turned on her heel before anyone could ask further questions. She made her way down the hall on her own and descended the steps toward the front door. Behind her, her brothers exchanged looks that ranged from confused to suspicious to 'what just happened?'

Obito mouthed, 'What did we miss?' 

Yamato shrugged helplessly. Kakashi watched her go, thoughtful, arms folded. Across the room, Sasuke and Itachi shared a look. Sasuke inclined his head to his brother before following after her. Naruto stood by the door, staring straight ahead, willing her thoughts to be about literally anything else. She squared her shoulders as Sasuke approached, schooling her expression. 

“Are you alright, Naruto?” Sasuke quizzed a few minutes into their walk, turning his head toward her as they strolled along the path. 

Naruto shot him a look. “I’m getting real tired of that question,” she griped. “I promise I’m okay. If I wasn’t, I’d tell someone.” 

Sasuke studied her, then nodded once and faced forward again. “Alright.” 

A short distance behind them, Itachi and Yamato walked, deep in conversation. The two had always gotten along well, their friendship stretching back to boyhood. Naruto inhaled deeply, the air cool and fresh in her lungs. Being outside still felt like a miracle. 

“So,” she said, nudging Sasuke lightly with her elbow, “tell me what I’ve missed. Anything scandalous at the social events?” 

Sasuke’s mouth twitched. “Well… Miss Yamanaka threw a fit when Duke Namikaze didn’t show up at the Yamanaka ball. Apparently, she went all out on her gown and claimed she was made to look like a fool.” 

“She threw a fit at the actual ball?” Naruto guffawed, head tipping back. 

“It was near the end,” Sasuke admitted, smirking. “But yes. Plenty of people were still there to witness it.” 

Naruto grabbed his arm as she laughed harder, leaning into him for balance. 

“She’s going to be even more upset,” Sasuke added, “when she learns the Duke didn’t attend because he was busy seeing to you.” 

“She really doesn’t like me,” Naruto huffed, her laughter fading.

“No,” Sasuke conceded. “But I suspect it has more to do with the fact that you’ve had a flood of suitors… while she’s had, what, three?” 

Naruto made a face. “As if I’d brag about that. I’d rather she take them all and leave me alone.” 

“So you’ve said,” he replied, amused. They walked on, silence stretching comfortably between them. The rhythmic clang of metal on metal drew their attention as they passed a blacksmith’s forge. A broad-shouldered man worked at the anvil, sweat gleaming on his brow. Beside him stood a girl with bright pink hair tied back, green eyes intent as she handed him tools. She wore a leather apron and gloves just like his. 

Naruto slowed slightly, curious. Sasuke stopped altogether, and she followed his gaze to the girl. 

'How curious…,' Naruto thought, tilting her head ever so slightly. Sasuke exhaled, almost imperceptibly, then looked away and resumed walking. Naruto didn’t comment; she simply tucked the observation away. Eventually, he escorted her back to the Uzumaki townhouse. At the door, Sasuke bowed and lifted her hand, brushing his lips lightly over her knuckles. 

“Rest well,” he said. 

She hugged Itachi tightly next, making him promise to write and to send word the moment his child was born. He gave her that gentle, fond smile she remembered from childhood before taking his leave. 

Naruto climbed the stairs alone, her earlier laughter long gone. So Minato hadn’t attended the Yamanaka ball. Maybe he hadn’t attended any of the events. Why? Wasn’t he searching for a bride this season? 

She paused by the window in her room, arms wrapping around herself. Maybe he’d simply been too occupied helping her. He had blamed himself, after all, said he wished he’d found her sooner. Said he would do anything. 

Her grip tightened on her elbows. Was it guilt? Was that all this new kindness was? Was he just trying to ease his conscience, to wash his hands of the past by playing the hero now? Maybe he wasn’t truly trying to be her friend. Maybe he wasn’t being kind because he cared. Maybe he just didn’t want to carry the weight of how he’d treated her. 

The thought hit like a blow, and a sharp pain burst behind her eyes. Naruto gasped, hands flying to her temples as a fierce headache flared to life. 

“My lady?” Riki’s voice came from the doorway. “Are you alright?” 

“My head,” Naruto groaned, doubling over as the pain spiked, white-hot and blinding. 

“My lady! Stay here, I’ll fetch the doctors!” 

Naruto barely heard her. The pounding in her skull drowned out everything else. She sank to her knees, then to the floor, curling in on herself as tears slipped down her cheeks. Hands touched her shoulders, shaking her gently. Something cool pressed against her forehead. 

The sunlight streaming through the window seemed too bright, fracturing into hazy shapes. Her eyes stayed open, but the room blurred into smears of color. The pressure in her skull intensified until it felt like her head might split apart. 

Then the world tilted and went dark. 

Obito watched in horror as Naruto’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. Only moments earlier, Riki had burst into the hall, shouting that Naruto had suddenly grabbed her head and cried out in pain. Obito had been the closest, and when he reached her chamber and rounded the bed, his heart dropped into his stomach. 

Naruto lay crumpled on the floor, curled tightly in on herself. Her knees were drawn to her chest, her arms wrapped around her head as if she could physically hold the pain back. Her blond hair clung to her face, damp with sweat. 

“Naruto,” Obito breathed as he dropped to his knees beside her. 

He gently touched her shoulder, trying to soothe her. “It’s me, I’m here.” His voice shook despite his effort to keep it calm. She didn’t respond. A broken, pained moan slipped from her lips, and she curled tighter, fingers digging into her scalp.  

Riki returned moments later with their father and Yamato close behind. Riki knelt immediately, pressing a cool, wet cloth to Naruto’s forehead. For a moment, it seemed to help. Her breathing eased, and her body relaxed just enough for her eyes to flutter open, but her gaze was wrong. Her pupils were blown wide, drifting aimlessly as though she couldn’t see any of them at all. 

“Naruto?” their father asked softly. “Can you hear me? Are you okay?” 

She didn’t answer. Her eyes wandered once more before rolling back into her head, her body falling slack. 

“What do we do?” Obito asked, his voice strained.

“The doctors should be here in a moment,” Jiraiya said, hands hovering uselessly at his sides. For once, his father looked just as lost as Obito felt. 

The physicians arrived quickly. They checked her pulse, her breathing. One gently peeled back her eyelid, frowning at the sight of her dilated pupil. “Her breathing is steady,” one of them noted. 

“Let us move her to the bed, my lord.” 

Obito scooped her up without hesitation. She felt far too light in his arms, her body limp and unresponsive. He carried her carefully, settling her onto the mattress while Riki pulled back the covers. 

“My lord,” the doctor continued, “it appears Naruto experienced an extremely severe headache. In cases like this, it can be a sign that the brain is attempting to heal itself. As sudden and alarming as it was, it could indicate progress.” 

“A good sign?” Jiraiya snapped. “My daughter passed out from the pain alone.” He stopped himself and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I apologize. It’s just… she’s been doing so well. What could have caused this?” 

“It’s understandable, my lord,” the doctor waved. “Given her injury, episodes like this were always a possibility. I did note that sudden headaches might occur. I will leave a tonic for her; it should ease any pain once she wakes. Unfortunately, the brain is still something we do not fully understand.” 

“Yes, I understand. Thank you,” Jiraiya sighed. He shot Obito a look before escorting the doctors out. Obito barely noticed; his attention fixed entirely on Naruto, pale and still against the pillows. A bitter thought drifted into his mind. 

He wished they had never come here at all. 

Ever since Naruto debuted, it felt like one disaster followed another. The only bright spot had been learning that Menma’s lungs had improved significantly since last year, but even that felt overshadowed by everything else. Naruto deserved a break. Instead, she’d been forced to endure pompous men who thought themselves worthy of her hand, Danzo and his unsettling interest, the incident at the lake, and everything that followed, and now this. 

She didn’t need anyone else in her life. She had them; her brothers had always been enough. They were enough—until their father planted the idea in her head that she should start looking for a husband. Obito wanted to be angry, but the feeling never fully took hold. He knew a husband could give her things they couldn’t.

But when had Naruto ever cared about romance? About love, or children? She barely understood the physical side of marriage at all. They’d gone out of their way to avoid anything remotely sensitive around her, wanting to preserve her innocence for as long as possible. And yet, she’d decided to try anyway. 

He remembered locking himself in his room for hours when she first announced it, fury and fear twisting together until he couldn’t tell them apart. Marriage meant distance…It meant loss. 

Prince Gaara was a contender. Sasuke Uchiha, too. Suna was far, but manageable. They could still visit, still see her from time to time. But Sasuke… 

Obito remembered overhearing him speaking to Naruto about America, about wanting her to come with him if they married. America might as well have been another world; the journey alone would make visits impossible. He didn’t want their family torn apart. He wanted them together, the way they’d always been, before this ridiculous season turned everything upside down. 

With a tired sigh, Obito sat on the edge of Naruto’s bed. It had been a relief when her injury forced her to pause the marriage search, but that relief shattered the instant she insisted on continuing. She still wanted to finish the season, still wanted a husband. 

Too much was changing, and he hated it, but he couldn’t take away his sister’s chance at happiness, no matter how much it scared him. All he could do was hope that wherever her future led, it wouldn’t take her too far from them. That she’d still come home, that she’d still need them, even after she began a life of her own. 

Two days after the worst headache Naruto had ever experienced, she decided it was time to attend the next ball. The decision had not been received well. Every one of her brothers protested, their concern turning quickly into frustration when they realized she would not be swayed. Their father joined in as well, urging her to rest longer, to skip just one more event. 

Naruto had refused. She told them she felt fine. She told them she was tired of being treated like glass. And finally, when none of it worked, she told them plainly that if they refused to escort her, she would go alone. That, at least, got them moving. 

All except Sakumo and Menma, who were unable to attend the event. The rest prepared in tight-lipped silence, clearly displeased but unwilling to let her leave without them. 

The ball was being held at the Nara estate, where a gallery exhibition would be open for the ton to browse throughout the evening. Paintings, sculptures, and rare pieces from private collections would be on display. It was meant to be quieter than the usual balls, more refined. The perfect event, Naruto thought, to make her return after so long away from public view. She refused to hide away any longer. 

Riki helped her dress, selecting a pale cream gown adorned with deep gold accents woven delicately into the bust and along the sleeves. The fabric fell more loosely than Naruto’s previous dresses, but it was no less beautiful. Matching gloves were smoothed over her hands, and Riki fastened a simple but elegant set of gold jewelry at her throat and ears. 

For her hair, Riki braided two sections from either side of her head, pinning them back before twisting the rest into a neat bun. A cream ribbon was tied around it, the ends fluttering whenever Naruto moved. 

By the time she was ready, her brothers were waiting by the door. Every one of them wore the same sour expression that Naruto ignored completely. She walked past them without a word and climbed into the carriage herself. She sat beside her father and stared out the window, pointedly tuning out the low muttering and sighs that filled the space. The ride was tense. Naruto sat stiff-backed, her jaw clenched, her temper threatening to flare every time one of her brothers remarked on her health or her “recklessness.” 

When they arrived at the Nara estate, she opened the carriage door on her own and stepped down before anyone could offer a hand. The night air was cool against her skin, the estate glowing warmly with lantern light. She walked ahead, determined to avoid her brothers for as long as possible. 

They knew how much this meant to her, and still they spent the entire evening trying to smother her independence. Her earlier excitement soured quickly, frustration curling tight in her chest. 

There was no grand announcement for this event. Guests filtered in freely to admire the gallery and mingle at their leisure. Naruto slipped inside unnoticed, her presence unremarkable among the flow of guests. She wandered for several minutes, her irritation lingering, until she nearly collided with someone moving in the opposite direction. 

“My lord!” she exclaimed, startled. Gaara stopped immediately. 

“My lady.” He bowed smoothly, taking her offered hand and pressing a respectful kiss to her knuckles. “I have been so worried about you. Your brothers have kept me away since the incident.” 

“I apologize for their behavior,” Naruto said, her irritation softening. “I was very unwell for a bit, but I am better now.” She smiled, hoping to reassure him. Gaara studied her closely, his gaze searching her face, looking for some lingering sign of injury or lie.

“I am…gratified to see you in good health,” he said at last. “I confess that I was deeply distressed when I couldn’t receive any updates about you. I nearly went to the queen myself.” 

“You did?” Naruto gasped and laughed lightly. The sound seemed to ease him, and a small smile touched his lips. 

“Yes, but my siblings intervened before I could leave the room,” he admitted. “May I walk with you?” 

He offered his arm, and she slipped her hand through it happily. As they moved through the gallery, Gaara spoke again. “Naruto, I must apologize for not doing more to help you. It has weighed heavily on my mind since I last saw you. I do not know how to swim, and I felt…terrible, standing there unable to help.” 

“Gaara, all is forgiven. I do not blame you for anything.” 

“I am relieved to hear that, though I do not believe your brothers share your opinion.” 

Naruto snorted. “My brothers can kick rocks, for all I care. They have been unbearably overbearing these last few weeks, and I am exhausted by it.” 

“You have argued with them.” 

“Yes,” she sighed, pausing in front of a painting. “They didn’t want me to come tonight. If they had their way, we’d be packed and heading home before the week was over.” 

She studied the artwork for a moment before continuing. “I know they’re worried, I do, but this is what I want. I want to find a husband.” Her voice softened. “The more I think about it, the more certain I become. I never realized how deeply I longed for this kind of love until this season.” 

Gaara’s arm tightened just slightly around hers. “And do you believe you have found it?” 

Naruto turned to look up at him. His green eyes were intent, searching. Her breath caught, and she looked away. “Possibly,” she whispered. 

“I did not enter this season expecting anything,” she continued. “I thought I would be ridiculed or ignored. Perhaps even barred from certain estates.” She paused, then met his gaze again. “But I have met a few men who have caught my eye. Men, I believe… I could grow to love...one day.” 

Gaara smiled, warm and unmistakably sincere. His hand lifted, resting briefly against her cheek. “I am glad to hear that,” he breathed. Heat rushed to her face, and she turned away, embarrassed but smiling as his hand fell back to his side. 

They returned to the gallery together, moving from one painting to the next. Gaara leaned in now and then, lowering his voice to tell her about a particular piece, its origin, the artist’s history, or why it had caught his attention. Naruto listened with interest, even if she couldn’t claim to be well-versed in art herself. That had always been Yamato’s domain. She could picture him somewhere in the room, practically vibrating with excitement as he studied every brushstroke and frame. The thought tugged a small smile from her lips. 

“I recognize this one,” she said at one point, gesturing to a landscape washed in soft blues and greens. “It’s from the eastern collection, isn’t it?” 

“It is, I’m impressed.” Gaara looked pleased. 

“I only know it because Yamato talks about these things constantly.” 

Eventually, music drifted through the estate, signaling the beginning of the evening’s dancing. Guests began to gather near the floor, the murmur of conversation shifting. Gaara turned toward her, his head inclining subtly in the direction of the dancers. Naruto laughed, her earlier frustration finally melting away. She nodded and followed him as he stepped into the line of men, while she joined the women opposite. 

When the music began, Gaara bowed deeply, and she curtsied in return. The dance swept them into motion, twisting, turning, hands briefly clasping before they exchanged partners and spun away from one another.  Naruto usually preferred the slower, more traditional dances, the pace allowing her to linger with her partner. Still, this was fun in its own way. When the music finally came to an end, Gaara found her again and led her from the floor. They made their way to the refreshment table, where she gladly accepted the drink he offered, grateful for the pause. 

“Perhaps I may call on you once more?” Gaara questioned, hopeful. “I desire to spend more time with you. We have lost so much time together.” 

“I would love that, Gaara,” she replied. “I am sorry my brothers turned you away. Had I known, I would have kicked their asses.” 

Gaara laughed into his water, quickly covering his mouth with his hand. “It only stings less knowing that every other suitor was turned away as well,” he admitted with a small nod. 

“Can you imagine how bored I was?” Naruto grumbled. “Only my brothers and Minato to keep me company. They wouldn’t even let my friend Hinata come see me.” 

“The Duke?” Gaara blinked, turning to her sharply. “The Duke was allowed to visit you?” 

“Yes,” she nodded. “He came quite a few times. He saved my life, after all, and he’s a close family friend. He wanted to make sure we were healing properly.” 

Gaara stared at her, unblinking. Naruto noticed the way his jaw tightened, the slight shift in his posture. His fingers curled a little more firmly around his glass. “I see,” he said. 

“Are you alright?” she asked, puzzled. 

He hesitated, brows furrowing as he searched for the right words. “Naruto… if I may. The Duke hasn’t— I mean— you don’t…” 

“Gaara?” she prompted. 

He sighed. “I apologize. What I mean to ask is… the Duke hasn’t expressed any interest in courting you, has he?” 

Naruto burst out laughing, throwing her head back, caught off guard. “Minato?” she giggled. “Asking me?” 

She couldn’t seem to stop laughing, and Gaara found himself smiling as he watched her. “Forgive me,” he said quietly. “I suppose I was… experiencing a bit of jealousy.” 

“You have nothing to be jealous over,” she assured him, still smiling. “Not with Minato of all people. He has absolutely no interest in me whatsoever. We are friends, just friends.” 

Gaara nodded, but his thoughts betrayed him. He remembered the way Minato had carried Naruto from the lake, begging her to breathe, to live. The way his arms had wrapped around her, protective and possessive, as if he would rather face death himself than let her go. 

There was something there, he was certain of it. But was Naruto aware? Or was he reading too deeply into things, seeing meaning where none existed? It was possible, of course. But Gaara had a gut feeling that something was amiss, and his gut was usually right.   

'He has absolutely no interest in me whatsoever,' Her words echoed in his mind, not 'I have no interest in him.' 

Had Naruto once harbored feelings for the duke, only to be turned away? 

'We used to fight like cats and dogs,' she had said at the grand picnic. 'We truly couldn’t stand each other.' 

She would have mentioned it, Gaara believed. She was honest and open in a way that left little hidden. Perhaps he was reading too much into it.  

With a sigh, he pushed the doubt aside and smiled at the beautiful woman before him. Whatever the truth, she was here with him now. There was something real between them—something she herself had admitted could one day grow into love. For now, that was enough. 

All he could do now was continue to prove to her that he was the best candidate for her.   

After parting ways with the prince, Naruto wandered the gallery on her own for a while. She moved at an unhurried pace, offering smiles to those who stopped her to inquire after her health. Each question was asked with concern, and she answered them all the same way: gracious, reassuring, careful not to invite further scrutiny. She didn’t want all of the ton knowing her business after all. 

Eventually, she spotted a familiar figure standing near the wall, hands clasped in front of her as she observed the room. “Hinata!” Naruto called. She crossed the space between them and pulled her friend into a warm hug. 

“Naruto,” Hinata gasped. “I didn’t know you were attending tonight.” 

“I admit it was a spontaneous decision,” Naruto replied with a small laugh, pulling back. “But I’m ready. I couldn’t stay hidden any longer.” 

Hinata studied her closely. “Are you doing well, then? Have the doctors cleared you?” 

“I’m doing better,” Naruto said honestly. “Though they still think my… injury will linger for a while longer.” 

A sad look crossed Hinata’s face. She knew how deeply Naruto resented her condition. The last time they’d spoken alone, Naruto had ranted for nearly an hour, furious at her own body and mind. She hated feeling helpless, hated being restrained by something she couldn’t fight. 

Sensing the mood shift, Naruto quickly looked away toward the crowd. “Have you spoken to anyone tonight?” 

“No,” Hinata answered. “No one has approached me yet, but my sister is dancing with Heir Akimichi.” She nodded toward the left side of the dance floor. Naruto hummed thoughtfully as she followed Hinata’s gaze. As she scanned the room, something else caught her eye. 

“Well, look at that,” she said, intrigued. Hinata followed her line of sight to see Heir Nara deep in conversation with Temari, Gaara’s sister. Naruto smiled, quickly filling Hinata in on what she knew about the fierce blonde. 

“And you truly think they would make a good match?” Hinata questioned sceptically, her pale eyes widening as she listened. 

“Well, it remains to be seen,” Naruto responded. “But from what I know of Heir Nara, he’s a bit of a lazy ass. Someone like Temari might be exactly what he needs.” 

Hinata shot her a scandalized look at the language, though she couldn’t deny the truth of it. They lingered there a moment longer, watching the movement of the crowd. 

“Oh,” Hinata gasped. Naruto turned, following Hinata’s line of sight, and froze. Minato was dancing. He stood tall, smiling down at a red-haired woman with deep blue eyes that looked almost purple in the warm light. His hand rested gently on her back as he guided her through the steps, spinning her with grace. They looked… right together. 

Naruto tried to look away and found that she couldn’t. A tight, burning sensation bloomed in her chest, spreading downward into her stomach. She didn’t understand it, but she didn’t want to examine it too closely. She only knew that seeing him like that hurt. 

“Naruto,” Hinata said softly, gripping her arm. “Let’s go look at the food table, I’m getting a little hungry.” 

Naruto nodded, unable to form a proper response. She allowed Hinata to steer her away, turning her back on the dance floor and on Minato. They made their way toward the table laden with finger foods and small pastries. Naruto selected a few items at random, barely tasting them. She kept her back deliberately turned, refusing to look over her shoulder. She didn’t want to see how close he stood to that woman. She didn’t know why it mattered so much, but it did. 

“Excuse me, my ladies,” a voice interrupted, “but I was wondering if I might have a dance?” 

Naruto and Hinata turned together. A tall man stood before them, his hand extended. He had spiky brown hair and deep brown eyes, and a confident smile plastered on his face. He was handsome, Naruto noted absently. Then she realized his hand was offered not to her but to Hinata. Hinata looked momentarily frozen, surprise written plainly across her face. 

Naruto smiled and nudged her forward with her elbow. “Go,” she urged. Hinata took a steadying breath and placed her hand in his. As they walked away, Hinata glanced back, smiling shyly. Naruto shooed her with a grin. 

Hinata deserved this. She deserved something of her own, something soft and hopeful. Naruto watched until the crowd swallowed them both, silently wishing her friend happiness. Maybe Hinata would find love in this man, or at least companionship.

For a moment, that wish felt easier to give to someone else than to herself. Naruto let out a breath and allowed her smile to fall away. The effort of holding it in place had become exhausting. 

She turned, scanning the room in the hope of spotting one of her brothers, or even her father, but she saw none of them. They had all dispersed somewhere into the estate, leaving her suddenly, painfully alone. 

Her teeth worried at her bottom lip, tearing through skin already tender. She walked without thinking, her steps carrying her away from the noise of the gathering. The corridor she entered was quieter, nearly empty, its walls lined with framed paintings. A single couple stood at the far end, whispering to one another as they admired a piece. 

Naruto drifted closer to the wall, her gaze sliding from one painting to the next until one stopped her entirely. It was an open field. Tall grass rolled across the canvas, dotted with wildflowers in soft, pale colors. A small butterfly hovered near the corner, easy to miss if one didn’t look closely.  

“It’s pretty,” Naruto murmured before she realized she’d spoken aloud. It reminded her of home, of the plains surrounding Uzushio, where the wind moved freely, and the sky felt endless. Her eyes dropped to the small placard beneath the frame. The name there made her breath catch; it was her mother’s name. 

“Oh,” Naruto whispered. 

She’d always known her mother painted. That was where Yamato had inherited his love for art, after all. But she hadn’t known one of her works had been donated to the Nara gallery. When had it been done? Had she donated it herself or had father, after her mother's passing? 

Her throat tightened as she studied the painting again. She knew this place. She knew exactly where her mother must have stood, brush in hand, capturing this moment. She could almost picture her there, hair caught by the breeze, eyes focused as she worked. 

Tears gathered before Naruto could stop them. One slipped free and traced a path down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, but the ache didn’t ease. She missed her mother so fiercely it felt like a physical wound. Some days, the absence was bearable. Other days, like tonight, it hollowed her out. 

Maybe if her mother were still here, Naruto wouldn’t feel so lost. Wouldn’t feel like she was constantly trying to find her footing in a world that kept shifting beneath her. Her teeth found her lip again, reopening the small wound she’d already worried raw. 

A familiar, deep laugh echoed softly down the hall, and Naruto stiffened. She turned, and her heart dropped as Minato stepped into the room with the same red-haired woman she’d seen him dancing with earlier. Her arm was looped through his, and the way they stood together was intimate. Naruto spun around, intent on escaping before they noticed her. 

“Naruto?” 

She froze before forcing herself to breathe. She turned back and carefully arranged a smile on her face. “Oh, Minato, I didn’t know you were in attendance tonight.” She stepped a hair closer, just enough to appear polite as they stopped several feet away. 

“Nor you,” Minato replied, his gaze fixed on her face, eyes searching. 

“I told Father I was ready to begin attending social events again,” she explained. Her eyes betrayed her, drifting unbidden to the woman at his side. 

“Oh, forgive me,” the woman said, her voice bright. “Miss Kushina Hatake, my lady.” 

Naruto ran through the list of noble names and realized it was that Hatake was the last name of Lord Shira Hatake. He was a minor lord within the ton, but his family name was influential. This must be his daughter. 

“It’s a pleasure,” Naruto said smoothly. “And please, just Naruto.” Kushina smiled. She really was very pretty. 

“What happened to your lip?” Minato interrupted, gesturing toward her mouth. 

“Oh,” Naruto waved without missing a beat, “I was eating and accidentally bit down too hard. You know me.” She laughed but winced inwardly at the lie. It was serviceable enough. 

“The food was delicious,” Kushina agreed with a laugh. "I almost did the same." 

Naruto chuckled, playing along. The burning sensation returned to her chest, Kushina’s arm was still wrapped around Minato’s, and suddenly, the room felt too small. 

“My lady, I just wanted to say, what you did for your brother was incredibly brave. I don’t know if I’d have the courage to do something like that.” 

“Thank you,” Naruto replied, her smile tightening just a touch. “Family is important to me. I couldn’t just stand by and let the men do all the work.” 

“Yes, I’d heard you were very headstrong. It’s nice to hear it confirmed in person.” Kushina giggled.

Naruto’s smile fell. 

“Well,” she said evenly, “it’s been a pleasure speaking with you, Kushina, your grace, but I really must be going. Enjoy your evening.” She curtsied briefly to Minato, then turned away. 

“Naruto—” Minato called. She didn’t pause at the call of her name. She walked away with her head held high, even as something inside her twisted painfully tight. 

Naruto stepped back into the main room, forcing herself to straighten despite the tightness in her chest. She scanned the crowd again, searching for any familiar face. Her eyes landed on Kakashi a moment later, standing near one of the pillars, deep in conversation with a few colleagues. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned toward him. 

Before she could start in his direction, an arm shot out from the side and clamped painfully around her upper arm, yanking her backward. Naruto gasped; the sound cut off instantly as a hand clamped over her mouth. She thrashed, clawing at the grip holding her; whoever it was, they were far stronger than her. 

She was dragged into a narrow hallway, her heels scraping uselessly against the floor. Before she could gather her breath, she was hauled through a side door and shoved into the gardens beyond. She hit the ground hard, rolling across the grass. Naruto tried to scramble to her feet, adrenaline screaming at her to run, but a brutal tug on her hair wrenched her head back. Pain exploded across her scalp, and she cried out. 

“Now, Miss Uzumaki,” a familiar, vile voice purred, “we are finally alone.” 

Her blood ran cold. 

“Let me go, bastard!” she screamed, as she kicked and twisted, hoping, praying, someone would hear. But the music from inside thundered on, drowning her out. No one was looking for her. No one knew she was gone. 

Danzo yanked her closer, fingers tangled painfully in her hair. “That’s no way to speak to your future husband, Naruto,” he hissed. “That will be the first thing to go when we marry.” 

She reacted on instinct and kicked out with everything she had, her heel connecting solidly between his legs. Danzo let out a strangled sound and released her. She hit the ground again but forced herself upright, pain shooting through her leg as she tried to run. 

She made it three steps before a hand closed around her ankle and jerked. She went down hard, her body slamming into the stone path. Her teeth clacked together violently, and a sob tore from her chest. She was flipped onto her back, the world spinning as Danzo loomed over her. 

“You will stay still!” he roared, his hand striking her face. 

“Get off me!” she spat, fury and terror tearing through her.

“Not until I take what is mine,” he sneered. “If I have you now, no one will look twice at you.” He laughed, a broken, unhinged sound. Naruto lashed out, slapping him, but he caught her wrists easily and slammed them above her head, pinning her to the ground. She bucked and fought, but he was relentless, crushing her beneath his weight. Cold metal touched her throat, and Naruto froze. 

“Now then,” he murmured, pressing the knife closer, “was that so hard?” 

The blade slid from her neck to the curve of her breast, biting into her skin. She hissed as it nicked her, warm blood seeping down her skin. “Keep still,” he breathed, his voice thick, “and this will be quick.” 

The knife traced lower, hovering at the edge of her dress. Naruto sucked in a shaky breath, preparing herself for what she was about to do. Then she drew her head back and slammed it forward with every ounce of strength she had, feeling bone give away underneath her skull.  

Pain exploded behind her eyes, and she screamed, but Danzo screamed too. He dropped the knife, clutching his face as blood poured from his nose. Naruto shoved him off and rolled away, scrambling to her feet. She didn’t care how she looked; she ran. She burst back into the hall, then into the gallery, her breathing ragged, her head pounding like it might split open. Tears blurred her vision as she searched wildly for her family. She wanted her father; she needed her brothers. 

She heard a familiar laugh and turned, relief crashing over her so hard it nearly buckled her knees. Yamato stood nearby, speaking with Kakashi, Minato, and two other men she didn’t recognize. 

She reached him and grabbed his arm with trembling hands. “Yamato,” she sobbed. 

He turned with a smile that dropped the second he saw her.  “Naruto,” he cried. “What the hell happened?” He cupped her face, horror flooding his expression as he took her in. Naruto broke completely, burying her face against his chest. Kakashi was there in an instant, lifting her head to look at her face. 

“Let’s get you out of here,” Kakashi said, his voice soft, but his eyes were anything but. “Okay?” 

Yamato guided her into the hall, Minato and Kakashi moving instinctively to shield her on either side. 

“Naruto,” he said, his voice breaking, “please…tell me what happened.” 

She couldn’t. Her hands shook uncontrollably, her chest hurt where the knife had cut her, and her head throbbed. Tears came too fast for her to breathe properly. “I just want to go home,” she cried. “Please, just take me home.” 

Yamato pulled her tightly against him, his eyes snapping up to meet Kakashi’s and Minato’s. Whatever passed between them made him shudder. 

“Find Father and Obito,” Yamato snapped. “We’re leaving, now.” 

“Let me take her,” Minato insisted, stepping closer. “I’ll see if I can get her to talk. You find your family.” 

Yamato hesitated, then nodded. Naruto was transferred into a warmer and much broader chest, though she barely noticed the change. She was shaking too hard, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Minato cradled her, one hand smoothing through her half-ruined hair. 

“Shh,” he murmured. “I’m here, Naruto. Calm down, I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

She clutched his shirt desperately. 

“Tell me what happened,” he prodded. She shook her head. 

“I need to know,” he pressed. “So I can make sure it never happens again.” 

“Danzo,” she whimpered. Minato inhaled slowly, visibly restraining himself. 

“Okay, okay…I’ve got you. Shh, I’ll handle it, okay? Just calm down for me. Can you try to breathe slowly for me?” He pulled back just enough to look at her and placed her hand over his chest. “Breathe with me, Naruto. Slow, just like this.” 

She felt the steady rise and fall beneath her palm, felt the way his heart raced. She could feel his muscles trembling. Her breathing began to match his, and she calmed slowly. 

“That’s it,” he praised softly. “Good girl. Now, look at me.” He tilted her chin gently upward, and his expression darkened. He clicked his tongue at the sight of her face. Blood streaked down her forehead, though he saw no open wound, but he did notice a deep bruise blooming beneath the skin. Her lip was swollen and bleeding, and her cheek was red. Blood trickled from a cut on the underside of her chin, staining her dress, and his jaw clenched when he saw the shallow cut on her breast. 

“Please, take me home.” 

“I will,” he promised. “I swear I will. We’re just waiting for your family, alright?” He pulled out his handkerchief and pressed it carefully to her chin, holding her close once more. Her family reached them moments later. Her brothers were the first she noticed, faces tight with panic, eyes wild as they scanned her injuries. Her father followed close behind, fear etched deeply into his expression. 

The instant Jiraiya stepped close enough, he took her from Minato, pulling her into his arms. “Let me see you,” he demanded, his voice trembling despite the steel beneath it. Naruto lifted her head sluggishly, her eyes unfocused as they met his. His gaze blazed as he took in the bruises, the blood, the way she trembled against him. 

“What happened?” Kakashi snapped, the question sharp enough to cut. 

“I was only able to get the name Danzo out of her,” Minato said tightly. His jaw clenched hard around the name. “And I believe she hit her head.” 

Jiraiya’s hand came up, brushing gently over the bruise forming along her hairline. Naruto whimpered at the contact and turned her face away instinctively. 

“Tell me, darling, what happened?” 

“He grabbed me,” she sobbed. “He dragged me to the gardens and threw me to the ground. I tried to get away, but he tripped me.” 

“I tried to fight him,” she continued, clutching at her father’s robes. “But he pulled a knife and held it to my throat. He said,” Her voice cracked. “He said he was going to take me so no one else would want me.” 

Jiraiya recoiled as if struck, pure horror flooding his face. Behind him, Minato, Kakashi, Obito, and Yamato went utterly still. The air around them seemed to freeze, rage simmering beneath the silence. 

“He became distracted when he was trying to cut my dress off,” Naruto whispered. “So I headbutted him and broke his nose. I was able to get free, and I ran.” She buried her face against her father’s chest, sobbing openly now. Jiraiya wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. 

“My darling…” he murmured. After a moment, he forced himself to ask the question he dreaded most. “Was he able… did he touch you in any way?” 

Naruto shook her head quickly. Jiraiya let out a shaky breath, relief warring violently with fury. “Alright, we’re leaving, now. Danzo will be dealt with soon.” 

He tugged her gently, urging her forward. Naruto took a few steps but faltered, her limp worsening as the adrenaline ebbed. Before she could fall, Minato stepped in and lifted her into his arms. She tucked her face into the crook of his neck and clung to him, her fingers curling tightly into his coat. They moved quickly toward the exit. 

“Minato,” she whispered, her voice small and confused. “What did he mean? What did he want to take?” 

Minato stiffened, his steps faltered for half a second before he forced himself to continue walking, his hold tightening ever so slightly. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he replied. “Nothing at all. Let’s just get you home, okay? We’ll have the doctor examine you, and then you can rest.” 

She nodded weakly, exhaustion settling over her. 

“It’s just a bruise, my lord,” the doctor said after finishing his examination of Naruto. “She may experience another headache, but it should heal in time. I do not believe it will worsen her existing brain injury.” 

Jiraiya released a long, weary sigh and leaned back against the wall. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease. “And her other injuries?” he asked. 

“All have been properly tended to and should heal without complication,” the doctor replied. “I’ve left a medicinal paste to apply to the cuts to prevent infection. None of them appears deep enough to require stitches. Her ankle is only mildly twisted; rest will be sufficient.” 

Jiraiya nodded. “Thank you.” He waved the poor man away before the doctor could say another word. He’d been summoned far too many times recently, and Jiraiya could see the exhaustion etched into his face. When the room fell quiet again, Jiraiya turned his attention to his daughter. 

Naruto lay sprawled across the couch, her body finally at rest. Her head rested in Minato’s lap, her feet draped over Kakashi’s. Yamato and Obito sat on the floor in front of her, backs against the couch, their posture tense. The rest of his sons had already retired for the night before Naruto had been brought home. 

'Why does everything keep happening to you, Naruto?', he questioned bitterly. All he had ever wanted was her happiness.  

Naruto whimpered softly in her sleep, her brow creasing. Minato immediately reached down, his hand gentle as it smoothed through her hair. Riki had undone the elaborate style earlier so she could rest more comfortably. Naruto sighed and relaxed again. 

Jiraiya stepped closer to the group, taking in the rigid set of their shoulders, the restrained violence simmering just beneath the surface. “I will notify the Queen first thing tomorrow morning. If we are lucky, Danzo will be executed for daring to lay hands on Naruto…And if we are not, then we will make sure he understands exactly why you do not cross an Uzumaki. Am I clear, boys?” 

Every head lifted as eyes locked onto him, each pair burning with the same promise, even Minato’s. His jaw was clenched so tightly Jiraiya could see the muscle twitch, his blue eyes dark and dangerous. Danzo had made a fatal mistake, and it looked very much like Minato Namikaze was already planning his end. 

“Let’s get her to bed,” Jiraiya said, nodding toward Naruto. 

“I don’t think she should sleep alone tonight, Father,” Yamato said. “Please allow her to rest with me.”  

Yamato’s mind flashed back to Naruto grabbing his arm earlier, sobbing his name. When he’d turned, he’d been met with a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his life, his sister’s face bloodied and streaked with tears, her eyes wild with terror. 

“Very well,” Jiraiya said at last. “Riki, fetch Naruto’s nightgown.” The servant nodded immediately and hurried from the room. Kakashi carefully eased Naruto’s legs from his lap and stood. He bent and lifted her with care, cradling her against his chest. They walked in silence to Yamato’s chambers, where Riki was already waiting. 

“If you will give me just a moment, my lord,” she whispered, “I will have Miss Naruto changed.”  

Yamato nodded, and Kakashi laid Naruto gently onto the bed before stepping back with the others, giving Riki privacy. While they waited, Jiraiya turned to his third son. “Obito, I want you to return to your room.” 

Obito opened his mouth to argue. 

“Please, son,” Jiraiya interrupted. “I can see the strain on you from here. You won’t help Naruto by running yourself into the ground. You will only be doing yourself harm. Get some rest, you can check on her in the morning.” 

Obito hesitated, then nodded and turned away, shoulders slumped as he headed down the hall. The door opened again seconds later. Riki stepped aside to reveal Naruto tucked neatly beneath the covers, dressed in a nightgown.  Yamato sighed and thanked the servant before stepping inside. 

“I’ll alert you if she wakes, Father,” he muttered, his voice subdued, eyes dull with fatigue. Jiraiya nodded, watching as Yamato closed the door gently behind him. Jiraiya gestured for Minato and Kakashi to follow him and turned without waiting for a response. He strode down the hall toward his office.

He went straight to the cabinet. The sound of glass clinking was loud in the quiet room as he poured three generous servings of whiskey. He handed a glass to each of them. No words were exchanged as one, they tipped the glasses back and downed the first shot. 

Jiraiya poured another round and moved to the low-burning fire, the flames casting restless shadows across the walls, and sank into his chair. Kakashi took the seat beside him, his posture rigid. Minato sat across from them, his expression carefully schooled, but his grip on the glass was tight. 

“What happened today…,” Jiraiya started, "will never happen again. Do I make myself clear?” 

The fire popped softly. 

“I don’t care if we have to follow her everywhere,” he continued. “Someone will be with Naruto at all times until Danzo is dealt with… appropriately.” Jiraiya lifted his glass and took a sip, unfazed by the burn. 

“I had just spoken to her,” Minato gulped. “In the gallery viewing hall.” 

Kakashi glanced at him. “This isn’t your fault, Minato,” he stated firmly. “The blame lies entirely with Danzo. We should have dealt with him sooner, but with everything else happening, he slipped through the cracks.” 

Minato’s fingers tightened around the glass until his knuckles paled. “The way he looked at her,” Minato said, jaw clenching. “At the ball, when I first stepped in to help her... I should have known he’d try something like this.” 

“You can’t predict the actions of a depraved man,” Jiraiya retorted, gaze fixed on the fire. “I am only… relieved that he didn’t get his hands on her fully.” 

Kakashi let out a harsh, distressed sound and drained his drink in one swallow. “I’ll kill him,” he hissed. “For daring to say such vile things to her.” 

Minato felt the same violent urge coil tight in his chest. He wanted to storm back into the night, to hunt Danzo down before dawn ever came. Waiting for morning, for permission, felt unbearable. Danzo deserved to be put down like the rabid dog he was. Minato downed his whiskey without thought.

“We can be thankful that Naruto knows how to defend herself. She must have been distracted to be caught off guard in the first place.” 

“She was,” Minato sighed. Both men looked at him. “She had been looking at her mother’s painting.” 

He thought of the moment he had walked into the gallery hall with Miss Hatake on his arm, laughing at something she’d said. Then he’d seen Naruto, turning to leave, her shoulders tight. Her lip had been raw and bleeding, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. She had waved him off, despite his questions.   

Kakashi inhaled, and Jiraiya hummed, his jaw tightening as he stared into the fire. 

Dearest gentle readers, 

It is with a heavy heart that I regale you with the events of the past twenty-four hours, for what was meant to be the calmest—and, in this author’s humble opinion, the grandest—evening of the season has instead left our ton reeling. 

Yesterday’s gallery event at the esteemed Nara estate was anticipated as a night of refinement. Lords and ladies flocked in droves to admire the family’s private collection of paintings, sculptures, and other treasured works of art. One might have expected nothing more scandalous than a poorly chosen critique or an overlong stare at an abstract piece. 

Imagine, then, this writer’s surprise when Miss Naruto Uzumaki made her long-awaited return. 

Absent far too long from the public eye, Miss Uzumaki had previously been seen only in the company of her family, strolling through the square, or—on particularly fortunate occasions—alongside the ever-dashing Duke Minato Namikaze himself. Her appearance alone was enough to stir whispers across the room. 

The evening unfolded beautifully at first. Miss Uzumaki shared a dance with Prince Gaara of Suna, the pair striking a handsome figure upon the dance floor and turning more than a few heads. Even the most reserved of wallflowers, a certain Miss Hinata Hyuuga, was coaxed into dancing, much to the delight of those observant enough to notice. 

Yet, dear readers, it seems something far more sinister brewed beneath the starlit sky. 

Before the night had drawn to a close, Miss Uzumaki suffered a brutal attack at the hands of Baron Shimura Danzo. 

I can only imagine your shock, though it pales in comparison to my own upon hearing the news. Fear not, for Miss Uzumaki demonstrated both courage and strength, managing to fend off her attacker and flee to her family. Multiple sources report that she was later seen being carried from the estate by none other than the Duke himself, her condition grave enough to silence even the most persistent gossipers. 

By morning, Viscount Jiraiya Uzumaki wasted no time. He personally approached the Queen, and if the rumors from the palace are to be believed, the halls rang with her fury once the truth was revealed. It is no secret that Her Majesty favors Miss Uzumaki, the Diamond of the Season, having left a lasting impression upon the Queen’s typically stern disposition. 

Justice, it seems, moved swiftly. 

Lord Shimura Danzo has been formally stripped of all titles and monies. Guards dispatched to his residence discovered it entirely abandoned. It appears that Lord Danzo never returned home that night and has since fled. 

This author can only hope that Miss Uzumaki finds some measure of peace—though with her attacker still at large, one fears such peace may be difficult to come by. 

Until next time, dear readers, 
I remain your most devoted observer of society, 

—Lady Whistledown 

Minato exhaled slowly and set the paper down, rubbing a hand over his face before dragging it back through his hair. The news sheet lay forgotten on the table, its contents already burned into his mind. Across the room, Sonya watched him from her place near the wall, worry etched across her features. 

He sat at the dining table with a full breakfast laid out before him, steam still rising from the food. He hadn’t touched a single thing; his appetite had vanished the moment he’d begun reading. 

Naruto filled his thoughts, as she so often did. That alone wasn’t surprising. It felt as though his mind had been occupied by the blonde for years now, slipping into every moment whether he invited it or not. He wondered how she was this morning. He’d stayed at the Uzumaki estate late into the night, only leaving just before dawn, convincing himself it was the right thing to do. She needed her family, not a man who was hopelessly, painfully in love with her. 

And now, a day later, he found himself wishing he’d stayed. He hadn’t received a single word about her condition. The not knowing gnawed at him. 

His blood hummed beneath his skin, tension coiling tighter with every passing minute. Danzo’s escape only worsened it. The man fleeing like a coward instead of facing justice felt like a personal failure. It was probably for the best that Minato hadn’t returned to the Uzumaki home. A house filled with furious men was a recipe for disaster. Naruto needed calm, not a storm of barely contained violence circling her. 

“Your Grace,” Sonya said carefully, breaking him from his thoughts, “you might wish to put the cup down before you shatter it.” 

Minato blinked, realizing belatedly that his fingers were clenched white-knuckled around the glass. He sighed and set it down. “Sonya, send word to Mr. Might Guy and inform him that he is needed. It seems I will accomplish nothing productive today.” 

She clicked her tongue. “Young lords and their incessant need to beat one another senseless,” she muttered, but she turned to send the message all the same. 

An hour later, Minato arrived at Might Guy’s training room, already stripped down to a thin shirt and loose trousers. The moment he stepped into the ring, Guy didn’t bother with pleasantries and threw the first punch. Minato barely managed to block it in time. 

They fought for hours. Fists collided with flesh, the sound echoing through the space. Minato let the violence burn the chaos from his mind, surrendering to instinct and muscle memory. Sweat slicked his skin, breath tearing from his lungs as he pushed himself harder than usual. Guy noticed, of course. He didn’t deliver his usual booming lectures on youth or vigor. He said little, his expression focused, as though he understood that Minato needed this more than words. 

Eventually, Minato staggered back for a break, chest heaving. Sweat dripped down his temples and soaked through his shirt. He grabbed a bottle of water, downed half of it, then tugged his shirt off and tossed it aside. He lifted his arms again, signaling he was ready. 

“If I may, Your Grace,” Guy began, “it appears you are unusually intent on beating me into the ground today.” 

Minato didn’t answer; he lunged. Guy blocked the punch easily, countering with one of his own. Minato ducked in time.

“I’m sure you’ve read the gossip rag currently circulating in Konoha,” Minato panted. 

“Ah,” Guy nodded knowingly. “So this is about Miss Uzumaki.” They traded blows again, neither yielding. “You should not blame yourself for Danzo’s escape, and I doubt Miss Uzumaki does either.” 

“I should have gone after him the moment we learned what he’d done!” Minato snapped, fury surging. “She has every right to hate me. I’ve failed her— more than once.” 

“Has she told you this?”

Minato caught a blow to the ribs and returned one to Guy’s gut. “She doesn’t need to,” Minato growled. “I can feel it. I already see myself as a failure in her eyes.” 

“Mm,” Guy hummed. “Once again, you are assuming her feelings based on your own. You are projecting.” 

Minato didn’t respond. His heart thundered in his chest. 

“You love her,” Guy said plainly, stepping back. “And because of that, you believe it is your responsibility to shoulder every misfortune that befalls her…but you shouldn't, it will only destroy you.” 

“Do not speak as if you know my heart or mind,” Minato snapped, dodging another strike. 

“I do not need to,” Guy replied easily. “I only need to observe Miss Uzumaki to understand you. When she smiles, you soften. When she is hurt, you burn with rage. Whether she knows it or not, you are her fiercest and most devoted protector.” 

Minato stumbled back, chest heaving. 

“I’ve hurt her worse than some of these men ever could,” he hissed. “How is that devotion? I am a coward! I cannot even tell her how I feel. She continues to suffer, and all I can offer are empty reassurances because I don’t know what danger comes next.” 

“You cannot see the future, Minato,” Guy said, lowering his stance. “As much as you wish to. All you can do is stand beside her as a friend… or as her lover. Do not let your fear hold you back any longer; let the flames of your heart guide you to Miss Uzumaki.” 

Minato finally stopped. He leaned forward, forearms resting against the ropes of the ring, head bowed. His breath came ragged and uneven. “She has too much on her plate right now,” he muttered, “She does not need the burden of my feelings as well.” 

Guy stepped closer and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps,” he said softly, “it is exactly what she needs.” 

They returned to sparring not long after, the earlier fury dulled into something more controlled. Minato moved with greater clarity now, his thoughts no longer spiraling quite so wildly. Their fists met again and again, blows traded in near silence, each strike driven by muscle memory rather than raw emotion. Sweat slicked the floor beneath their feet. Air burned in Minato’s lungs, but his mind felt clearer than it had in days. 

Eventually, exhaustion forced them apart. They called the match and collapsed onto opposite benches, both breathing hard. Minato grabbed a flask of water and drank deeply, the cool liquid soothing his throat. It was Guy who broke the silence. 

“Next week,” he said casually, “we’re hosting a few prize matches. Word has already spread through the usual circles, and people have been signing up all morning. What do you say? For old times’ sake?” 

Minato snorted softly. “I’m not the reckless schoolboy I once was, ready to throw it all down in a ring, Guy. I’m a duke now, I cannot possibly enter.” 

“Why? Afraid His Grace would lose and look a fool in front of the ton?” Guy shot him a grin. 

Minato laughed loudly. “No,” he retorted, “because I would win so spectacularly that any match after mine would pale in comparison.” He shook his head. “And besides, it isn’t exactly appropriate for my station.” 

Guy rose to his feet, pointing dramatically. “Come on, my youthful friend. Let loose for once and have some fun! You cannot deny that today has been excellent stress relief.” 

He paced a little as he spoke, voice rising with enthusiasm. “Remember the feeling; the blood rushing, the roar of the crowd, the cheers when your name was called as the victor!” 

Minato leaned back, gazing up at the ceiling as he thought it over. It wouldn’t hurt to take part in a match. Guy was right—today had helped more than Minato wanted to admit. And beneath all his restraint, beneath duty, titles, and expectations, there was a part of him that missed the ring, the clarity of a fight, the thrill of winning, the roar of applause, and even the jeers of those who’d bet against him.

It had been a long time since he’d allowed himself that freedom.  

“Fine,” Minato sighed, “Write my name down.” 

Guy whooped loudly, pumping a fist into the air. “Yes! The fires of youth burn bright once more!” 

Naruto ran her fingers slowly through Kurama’s thick fur, her movements absentminded as her thoughts drifted far from the room around her. She sat cross-legged on her bed, a book lying open beside her, forgotten halfway through a page she hadn’t read in some time. 

Since Danzo’s attack, Naruto had done something she despised…she had hidden. Not because she was afraid, but because she was ashamed. 

She knew she was capable of defending herself. Years of wrestling with her brothers had made that painfully clear. She was strong and quick; she knew how to fight. Yet Danzo had managed to get the upper hand because her mind had been elsewhere. Elsewhere as in Minato’s smile and the redhead on his arm, and the confusing feelings that it brought on, and seeing her mother’s painting unexpectedly at the gallery.  

Her fingers drifted to the shallow cut along the curve of her breast, tracing the tender skin lightly. It still ached when pressed, but it was healing…unlike her pride. 

What haunted her most wasn’t even the attack itself; it was the aftermath. The way she’d panicked, sobbing, begging to be taken home. The way she’d clung to Minato, crying into his chest like a frightened child. She squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment. 

She’d insisted on attending that event. Had argued with her family, convinced she was ready, that it was the right decision. And now? Now she was holed up in her room, avoiding her brothers’ worried looks and her father’s questions. 

For someone who prided herself on being strong, she had cried an awful lot lately. 

Naruto groaned and flopped backward onto the bed, dragging Kurama with her. She pulled him close, burying her face in his fur. Kurama yipped in protest. 

“Oh, hush,” Naruto muttered. “You have it easy, you know that? All you have to do is run around, play, eat, and sleep. Meanwhile, I’m stuck dealing with the absolute shitshow that is my life right now.” 

Kurama tilted his head, amber eyes far too knowing for a fox, then leaned forward to lick her nose. He followed it up by gently nipping at her ear. 

Naruto huffed a laugh. “Yeah, yeah,” she murmured, pressing her face into his fur again. “I love you too, furball.” 

A soft knock sounded at the door, and Naruto groaned quietly but didn’t move. A moment later, the door cracked open, and Riki peeked inside. 

“My lady, it is time for dinner. Shall I inform your father that you will eat in your room once more?” 

Naruto stared at the ceiling for a while. Hiding wasn’t helping, clearly. It was a coward's move, and Naruto was no coward. With a resigned sigh, she rolled onto her side and pushed herself upright. “No, I’m coming.” 

Relief flickered across Riki’s face. “Of course, ma’am. I’ll let him know to expect you.” 

When Naruto finally took her seat at the table, noticeably the last to arrive, she kept her eyes resolutely on her plate. Kurama had followed at her heels and now happily occupied himself with a bowl of rare meat placed near her chair. Naruto ate in silence, chewing a little too fast, intent on finishing as quickly as possible.  

Maybe she was being a coward, but she could feel their stares. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. The weight of their attention pressed in on her from all sides, and Naruto had always hated feeling like she was on display. It made her skin itch. 

A sharp thud echoed through the room as someone set their drink down a little too hard, and Naruto flinched. The sound felt louder than it should have been, jarring in the otherwise quiet room. She realized, distantly, that she’d grown unused to noise. Four days locked away in her room had made the world feel a little louder. 

“Naruto,” Kakashi choked. “Please… just look at me.” 

Her fork paused halfway to her mouth, and reluctantly, she lifted her eyes. What she saw made her frown. Every face around the table was turned toward her, eyes wide and tight with concern. Horror, even. As if she’d done something terribly wrong by sitting there. 

“You’re not…” Kakashi swallowed. “You have no reason to be afraid of us. We would never hurt you.” 

“What are you talking about?” Naruto tilted her head, confusion knitting her brow. 

“Naruto,” Yamato forced out, “you’ve been locked away in your room for days. You’ve refused to see any of us and just now… You flinched. Because of Danzo’s actions, it feels like you’ve become terrified of us. And it—” his voice faltered, “—it breaks my heart to see you unable to even look at us.” 

“We love you,” Obito added, gripping his cutlery hard enough that his knuckles went pale. “We would never do anything like what Danzo tried. We’re your family.” 

Naruto blinked and looked around the table again. Everyone looked grim, even Menma looked stricken. She laughed, the sound bursting out of her before she could stop it. Naruto tipped her head back, giggles spilling freely from her chest. She laughed so hard, tears welled up in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. 

“Naruto?” Sakumo asked carefully. “Are you… alright?” 

“You—” she hiccupped, trying to breathe, “—you think I’m scared of you?” 

Her laughter only grew. Jiraiya stared at her, bewildered. Kurama suddenly yipped and rolled onto his back, paws in the air, tail wagging wildly as if he, too, found the situation hilarious. 

“It is… the only logical conclusion, darling,” Jiraiya said slowly, watching her with concern. 

Naruto wiped at her eyes, still smiling. “I’m not scared of you,” she said firmly. “Any of you.” 

The tension in the room shifted, confusion replacing dread. 

“Then… why?” Yamato questioned. 

“I’m embarrassed.” Naruto shrugged sheepishly. 

“Embarrassed?” Yamato repeated. “Whatever for?” 

“Yamato, I broke down in your arms, crying like a little girl because I got smacked around a bit. That’s… humiliating.” 

“You weren’t in a good state of mind, Naru,” Obito pointed out. “It’s completely normal to react the way you did.” 

“Still,” she sighed, poking at her food, “I’m ashamed. I can’t help how I feel.” She glanced up, expression thoughtful. “And now the whole ton knows what happened, and Danzo’s on the run from the crown. If only I’d hit him a little harder…” She hummed. “I could’ve knocked him out and not given him the chance to run.” 

“He’ll be caught, darling, the Queen herself promised it. I don’t know how you managed it, but she’s very fond of you.” Jiraiya smiled proudly. 

“Maybe it’s because I’m not a blubbering ass-kisser trying to win her favor?” Naruto blinked innocently. Yamato choked on his water, Menma laughed outright, and even Kakashi let out a startled snort. 

“I’ve missed your… entertaining commentary,” Sakumo said fondly once the laughter died down. Naruto smiled softly at Sakumo. She really had missed him, too, missed all of them, if she was being honest. Things were different now, and they would only continue to change as the season went on. The world felt larger, more complicated than it ever had before. But no matter what shifted around her, she was grateful she still had her brothers. A constant she could fall back on, if nothing else. 

After a moment, her expression grew thoughtful. "I am a little confused about the encounter with Danzo, though.” 

“What do you mean?” Kakashi asked. Naruto tilted her head, brows knitting together as she worked through her thoughts aloud. 

“Well, I can’t quite wrap my head around what he wanted to achieve,” she said. “He said he wanted to ‘take what was his’ so that ‘no one else would want me.’” She hummed. “At first, I thought he meant to kiss me.” 

Several forks froze midair. 

“As a lady caught doing such a thing before marriage would be considered… forbidden and scandalous. But then,” she frowned, genuinely puzzled, “why did he seem so intent on tearing my dress? Could he have meant to humiliate me publicly? To paint me as some sort of… whore?” 

Kakashi choked and coughed violently, sending a desperate look toward Jiraiya, who very suddenly found the far end of the table fascinating. The grain of the wood had never been so interesting. 

Yamato closed his eyes. 'Like father, like eldest son,' he thought dryly, resisting the urge to groan. “Naruto,” Yamato said, clearing his throat. “You see… well…” 

She blinked up at him, eyes open and trusting, waiting patiently for an explanation. Yamato broke. 

“Yes,” he said quickly, forcing an awkward laugh. “That’s… that’s exactly it. He likely wanted to make it seem as though you came onto him. I guess we will never really know his true intent that night.” 

A thud followed as Obito kicked him hard in the shin under the table. Yamato hissed and kicked back, shooting Obito a glare. 

“Oh,” Naruto said, nodding slowly. “Well… that makes sense, I suppose.” She returned to her food, apparently satisfied with the explanation. 

Around the table, several of her brothers stared at her in stunned silence. Jiraiya rubbed a hand over his face, Kakashi muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a prayer, and Obito stared down at his plate, jaw tight, visibly restraining the urge to say something violent. Sakumo looked just as confused as Naruto did, but with a look from Kakashi, he returned to his food. Menma was happily eating, letting his older siblings talk amongst themselves. Naruto, blissfully unaware of the storm of thoughts around her, continued eating. 

Yamato swallowed and glanced at his brothers. 

They were going to have to protect her forever, weren’t they? 

The next time Naruto saw Prince Gaara was when he called on her. He arrived a little after lunch, dressed smartly and smiling. Naruto was seated in the receiving room when he was announced. Gaara bowed as he approached and lifted her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. 

“Good afternoon, Naruto,” he greeted. He made no mention of the gallery event. Her brothers had been very clear when he arrived—Naruto was fine, and if she wished to speak of it, she would do so in her own time. Gaara had respected that. 

“Good afternoon, Gaara!” Naruto replied brightly. “How have you been?” 

“I have been well, and you?” 

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “Terrorizing my brothers with a fresh wave of pranks.” 

A sudden shout echoed through the house, followed by a heavy thump. Naruto snorted and covered her mouth to hide her laugh. 

Gaara’s brow lifted, amused. “I see….Well, I’m glad to see you in such good health. I was actually hoping to inquire whether you would care to attend a sporting event with me.” 

“A sporting event? Which one?” 

“I’ve been invited to attend a prizefight,” he informed her, watching her reaction closely. Her eyes lit up instantly. 

“Oh, I would love to!” she exclaimed. “When is it?” 

“It begins in about an hour,” he replied. “Plenty of time to arrive and secure good seats.” 

Naruto bounced in place. “Let me go alert Father. I’m sure one of my brothers lurking nearby can be forced into chaperoning duty.” She shot Gaara a grin before waving Sakumo away, who had been standing guard by the door with arms crossed. 

Naruto knocked once before opening the door to her father’s office. “Father, Prince Gaara has invited me to attend a prizefight.” 

Jiraiya looked up from his paperwork and smiled. “Very well. Obito should be around somewhere; he can chaperone you today.” He gestured helplessly at the towering stack of documents on his desk. “I would, but this cursed pile grows faster than I can finish it.” 

Naruto laughed and leaned in to hug him. “Don’t work too hard.” She slipped back into the hall and raised her voice. “Obito! Get ready and meet us at the door!” 

A muffled shout of acknowledgment echoed back from somewhere deeper in the house. Naruto turned back to Gaara with an innocent smile.

“I placed a garden snake in his bed before lunch.” 

Gaara blinked and then chuckled. “That explains the noise I heard earlier.” 

Before long, Obito joined them, glaring daggers at his sister. “I will get you back for this, Naruto,” he warned. 

“You’d have to catch me first.” She smirked.

Gaara watched the exchange with interest. The ease between them, the teasing and affection woven seamlessly together, was intriguing. Even with the mending he’d done with Temari and Kankurō, his own family had never shared this kind of closeness. The Uzumakis were something else entirely. 

Gaara led Naruto outside to his waiting carriage, allowing her to step in first before following. Obito settled across from them, arms crossed and still clearly plotting his revenge. Naruto glanced down at her outfit in satisfaction. She’d chosen a pale blue dress with delicate silver detailing today. Her hair was pinned back at the sides, curls falling freely down her back, her bangs framing her face. 

A good choice and fortunate foresight because from what she remembered, fighting halls had a habit of growing warm quickly, especially when the crowd got loud. 

When they arrived, Gaara’s guards positioned themselves near the back wall while the three of them took their seats in the middle tier of the arena. It gave them a perfect view of the ring and the spectators opposite. 

The hall was steadily filling, the hum of voices growing louder by the minute. Boots thudded against wooden steps, laughter rang out, and the scent of sweat and leather lingered in the air. To Naruto’s surprise, she spotted more than a few ladies scattered among the crowd. Prizefights weren’t typically considered proper outings for women of the ton… but then again, neither was half of what Naruto enjoyed.

“Have you ever attended a fight like this before, Naruto?” Gaara leaned closer to ask, his voice low near her ear as the noise level rose. 

She turned toward him and nodded eagerly. “Yes! I’ve been to a few. My brothers used to sneak me in whenever they could.” 

On her other side, Obito elbowed her lightly. She looked up at him. “Look,” he muttered, scandalized. “That’s where Kakashi and Yamato disappeared to.” He pointed across the arena. 

Naruto followed his finger and spotted her two eldest brothers sitting on the opposite side. Her mouth fell open. “Those bastards,” she hissed. “They know how much we love prizefights.” 

But her indignation faded instantly, her breath caught in her chest, because sitting with them was Minato. He wore a simple white tunic, sleeves pushed up slightly, the fabric loose enough to hint at the strong lines of his shoulders and chest beneath. Brown trousers fit neatly along his long legs. He leaned forward, laughing at something Kakashi had said, the open collar of his tunic shifting as he moved. 

Naruto tore her gaze away, her face burning. She hadn’t seen him since the night of the attack and had wondered about his reasoning for not visiting. Had he stayed away out of politeness? Out of respect for her space? Or… had her tears, her panic, the way she’d clung to him been too much? Was he disgusted with her behavior?  

Her thoughts drifted to the memory of his voice, his hand guiding hers to his chest so she could match his breathing, the warmth of his arms around her. The way he’d murmured soft reassurances, holding her like she was something precious. 

The way he whispered 'good girl' to her... 

The memory sent a shiver through her, and suddenly the crowded arena felt warmer than before. Without meaning to, her eyes found him again across the ring. He was still smiling, unaware of her watching. 

Something unfamiliar stirred inside her, like nervous energy and longing tangled together. It made her feel restless, her breath a little shallow. The warmth travelled from her belly to her thighs, causing her to clench them together to ease the ache that appeared. She didn’t understand it. She had never experienced this feeling before. 

Naruto quickly turned back to face forward, pressing her palms against her warm cheeks and hoping neither Gaara nor Obito had noticed. The sound of Gaara’s voice cut cleanly through Naruto’s wandering thoughts, snapping her back into the present. 

“Would you like to place a bet on the winners, my lady? Mr. Uzumaki?” the prince asked, turning toward them with a smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He gestured toward a man weaving through the rows, calling out odds and scribbling figures onto a slate. 

“Oh, you’ve just messed up, my lord,” Obito groaned. Naruto’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile as she turned back to Gaara. Betting was one of her great pleasures and one of her greatest strengths. 

“Why, I would love to,” she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes in exaggerated innocence. 

“Very well. Let us see who the first match will be.” Gaara chuckled. Naruto bounced slightly in her seat, grinning. 

And so the afternoon unfolded as match after match, Naruto studied the fighters carefully—their stance, their build, the way they moved as they entered the ring. She placed her bets with confidence, barely hesitating before naming her choice…and time after time, she won. Obito cursed loudly every time he tried to bet against her, watching his coins disappear with increasing despair. 

“This is rigged,” he muttered after his third loss. “It has to be.” 

Naruto only laughed and scooped her winnings closer. Even Gaara lost to her more than once, though occasionally they placed bets on the same fighter and celebrated together when they won. Each victory sent a rush of excitement through her, and she joined the crowd in their cheering, shouting, and clapping.

She did her best not to look across the arena, but sometimes, her gaze drifted anyway. 

She wondered if Minato even knew she was there. The hall was packed, filled with stomping feet and raised voices. Perhaps she blended into the crowd, perhaps he hadn’t noticed her at all. The thought left her oddly disappointed. 

The crowd roared as another fight reached its climax. Naruto jumped to her feet with everyone else, shouting encouragement for the man she’d placed her bet on. He won, and cheers erupted. The fighter leapt from the ring, grinning wildly, and made a beeline straight for her. He bowed deeply, then took her hand and pressed a kiss to it. 

“My thanks, Miss Uzumaki,” he said breathlessly. “Your support brought me luck.” 

Naruto flushed crimson as the crowd laughed and applauded. More than one victorious fighter had sought her out, bowing, kissing her hand, thanking her for her cheers. Each time left her flustered, and Obito stared at her like he was witnessing a betrayal. 

“When did you become some kind of lucky charm to prize fighters?” he demanded. Naruto just smiled, flustered. Apparently, her name carried more weight here than she’d realized. Could being the Queen's diamond really have such sway? She tucked that thought away for later. For now, she leaned forward in her seat, eyes bright, heart racing, and if her gaze drifted across the room once more, just to check whether a certain blond duke had finally noticed her... 

Well, that was her secret. 

The crowd’s restless energy swelled suddenly as Mr. Might Guy stepped into the ring. He stood tall at its center, hands planted on his hips, grinning so broadly it was impossible not to look at him. 

“My lords and ladies,” he boomed, voice carrying easily through the hall, “I hope you have had a wonderful time today!” Cheers erupted immediately. 

“We have a special surprise for you this afternoon,” Guy continued, clearly enjoying the suspense. “A dear friend of mine has decided to grace us with one final match. He is undefeated, his speed and strength are unmatched—” 

The crowd began to stir, voices rising. 

“—and I ask you now,” Guy called, spreading his arms wide, “to give a hand to.... Minato Namikaze, Duke of Arashi!” 

The hall exploded. People leapt to their feet, cheering loudly as Minato rose from his seat across the arena. A confident, cocky smile curved his mouth as he made his way down the steps and vaulted effortlessly into the ring. 

Naruto gapped, heart stuttering in her chest. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembered that Minato had once been legendary among the fighting ranks. Her brothers talked about it endlessly, but her thoughts quickly derailed as Minato shrugged out of his tunic, rolling his shoulders as he did. The fabric slid away, revealing smooth, pale skin and a body built from years of discipline and strength. Muscles shifted and flexed as he stretched, his chest broad, his arms powerful. A faint sheen of sweat already glistened on his skin from the heat of the packed hall. 

Naruto swallowed hard; her mouth had gone completely dry. 

Minato ran a hand through his hair and gave the crowd an easy grin, soaking in their cheers as if he’d never left the ring at all. 

“Alright, alright!” Guy shouted over the noise. “Settle down!” The cheering died just enough for him to continue. 

“And now,” he said, voice rising again, “let me introduce his opponent! Can I get a hand for—A!” 

A massive man climbed into the ring opposite Minato. He was tall and broad, dark-skinned and powerfully built, with striking white-blond hair framing his face. Even standing still, he looked like a wall of muscle. The crowd roared anew. 

Gaara leaned closer to Naruto, eyes flicking between the fighters. “Well,” he questioned, “what is your bet, my lady?” 

Naruto blinked, snapping out of her daze. “On Minato, of course,” she replied.

Obito choked. “Have you seen the size of that man?” he demanded. “There’s no way Minato beats A.” 

“I must agree with your brother,” Gaara concurred. “I know the Duke is strong, but the sheer size of his opponent… I do not believe he will win this one.” 

Naruto only smiled, eyes returning to the ring. “I suppose we’ll see,” she hummed. She knew Minato would win. A was powerful, yes, but he was slow, and if you were slower than Minato… you had already lost. She’d known that since childhood. When they were younger, Minato had always been faster—outrunning her, outmaneuvering her in games, dodging her grasp when they wrestled. Speed had always been his greatest strength. Now he was taller, broader, built like he had been carved rather than born. 

Naruto would bet on Minato every time. 

It was strange seeing him in the ring like this; she’d never actually watched him fight before. More than that, though, he was a duke now. She’d assumed that part of his life was long behind him. Maybe Guy had convinced him.

Shrill cheers rang out from nearby rows as a few ladies called Minato’s name, and Naruto now understood why a few ladies had attended this event. She stiffened, the urge to glare rising before she forced it down. Why did she care if they cheered for Minato? 

The betting man came around again, collecting wagers. Naruto placed her money on Minato, and beside her, Obito and Gaara both placed theirs on A. 

The bell rang loudly, slicing through the roar of the crowd, and the match began. A moved first, charging forward with the force of a battering ram. His fist swung wide, but Minato was already moving, slipping to the side with ease. The crowd gasped as Minato countered with a quick strike to A’s ribs before darting back out of reach. 

Naruto leaned forward in her seat, heart hammering. 

The two men circled. A swung again, muscles flexing. Minato ducked, pivoted, and drove a punch into A’s side, then another to his jaw. A staggered but recovered quickly, his size allowing him to absorb hits that would have felled a lesser man. The crowd roared approval, but Naruto drowned them out. 

When Minato lunged forward, muscles tightening along his arms and shoulders as he struck, it felt like everything slowed. Her eyes tracked the twist of his torso, the flex of muscle beneath skin. He was handsome and entralling. Her gaze lingered longer on his body than was appropriate. Heat rushed up her neck as she realized what she was doing, and she snapped her eyes back to the fight. She forced herself upright, clapping loudly and shouting along with the crowd. 

“Come on, Minato!” Her voice blended with dozens of others. She focused on his face instead, on the concentration there, the cockiness gone now. His expression was cold, calculating every movement A made. 

A landed a blow that caught Minato across the cheek, the crack echoing, and Naruto flinched. Minato stumbled back a step, blood appearing at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes gleamed. He moved again, ducking under another heavy swing and driving his shoulder into A’s midsection. They grappled briefly, muscles straining, before breaking apart. 

The fight dragged on, sweat and blood flying, fists landing with sickening thuds. A’s strength was monstrous, but Minato’s speed was relentless. He wore the bigger man down bit by bit. A swung wide, overcommitting, and Minato slipped inside the arc of the punch, planted his feet, and drove a brutal strike straight into the giant's jaw. A’s head snapped back, and he fell with a thud.

Naruto was on her feet without realizing it, jumping up and down, cheering wildly with everyone else. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her throat. 

Minato stood in the center of the ring, chest rising and falling heavily. His lip was split, blood trailing down his chin. A cut above his eye dripped slowly, and a dark bruise was already forming along his cheekbone. His knuckles were scraped raw, skin broken and red. And yet.... Something about the sight sent warmth flooding through her again, tension tightening her belly and thighs. Her blood pumped in her ears, and she shivered. 

She really didn’t understand this reaction. Was she getting sick?  

Minato turned toward the crowd, his blue eyes finding hers. His lips pulled into that same cocky smile he wore earlier as he stepped into the ring, and Naruto froze, caught like a bunny in a trap.  

He vaulted lightly out of the ring and moved through the cheering spectators until he stood before her. Just like the other victors had done earlier, he bowed. He took her hand gently, his thumb warm and calloused against her skin, and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. She barely registered the smear of blood from his split lip staining her skin. 

He glanced up at her through his lashes. “My lady,” he breathed, voice low and roughened from exertion. “Thank you for cheering for me.” 

Naruto couldn’t breathe. Heat rushed through her from head to toe, her face burning as she met his gaze.

“Of… of course, Your Grace,” she squeaked. A chuckle vibrated in his chest, and he rose, giving her one last look before turning and vaulting back into the ring. Another wave of cheers crashed through the hall. Naruto sank back into her seat, dazed, her pulse racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the fight. 

The carriage ride home passed in a blur. Naruto stared out the window but saw nothing; her thoughts hopelessly tangled around the image of Minato's mouth against her hand, the way his eyes had held hers, and the cocky curve of his smile. She shifted and ran her thumb over the dried blood on her knuckles, doing so discreetly. She hadn’t washed it off yet; she didn't want to. That realization unsettled her. 

What was happening to her lately? Why did Minato so easily take over her thoughts? Why did watching him fight send a shiver racing through her veins? And why, when she thought of him now, did the old hurt no longer rise to greet her?

The carriage slowed and came to a stop in front of the Uzumaki townhome. Gaara stepped down first and offered her his hand, and Naruto took it with a quirk of her lips as she descended.  

'This,' she reminded herself firmly, 'is who you should be thinking about.' Gaara, the kind, thoughtful prince, she genuinely enjoyed spending time with.

He walked her to the door and turned to face her, bowing his head. “I hope you had a good time, Naruto,” he said, searching her face. Obito walked straight inside, not sparing them another glance.  

“I did,” she replied. “Thank you again for taking me.” She hesitated, then asked softly, “Will I see you again?” 

“Yes,” Gaara nodded. “I would very much like that.” 

She blushed and looked away. His hand lifted, fingers brushing her chin and tipping it up so she met his eyes again. “I did learn one thing today.”

“What’s that, my lord?”

He let her chin drop and stepped back, a small smirk tugging at his mouth. “Never bet against you again.” 

Naruto giggled and lifted her chin proudly. “Good, it is a very valuable lesson.” 

Gaara chuckled, bowed once more, and turned away, his carriage pulling away after he settled inside. Naruto lingered at the door, watching until it disappeared from view, her mouth pulled into a frown, brow furrowed in distress.

A few hours later, Naruto finished penning a letter to Hinata. 

She read it over twice, then a third time, before finally nodding to herself. She needed to speak to her friend privately, needed Hinata’s insight to help her untangle the mess of thoughts swirling in her head. A walk through town would be perfect. Hinata would help her make sense of things, Naruto was sure of it. 

For a fleeting moment, she considered sneaking out that very night to see her, but hesitation held her back. Her memory had been great lately, and she hadn’t had a single headache since the one that had caused her to faint, but the worry lingered. For now, a letter would do. She folded the paper neatly after signing it and rose from her desk.  

She’d changed into a light pink nightgown with a silk robe draped loosely over her shoulders, one side slipping down her arm no matter how often she adjusted it. She’d bathed after returning home, soaking until the tension melted from her muscles. Her hair fell freely around her shoulders and down her back. It was long enough to brush her waist. She ran her fingers through it and made a mental note to ask Riki for a trim soon. 

Naruto waved to Kurama, who was lying on her bed, and stepped out into the hall, intent on sending the letter before joining her family for dinner. She handed it off to the doorman with a grateful nod, watching as he turned to see it delivered. 

As she pivoted away, the sound of loud voices and laughter drifted toward her. She paused, head tilting slightly. That laugh…she recognized it. Naruto moved slowly toward the dining room, curiosity prickling along her spine. She stopped short in the doorway, blinking owlishly.

Minato was in attendance, sat beside Kakashi and Yamato, leaning back comfortably as he spoke, a smile on his face. The sight startled her so badly she sucked in a breath. 

“Oh,” she said, clutching her robe and pulling it closed quickly. “I apologize. I didn’t realize we would be dining with a guest tonight.” 

“Come join us, darling! Minato was just telling me about his match today. You neglected to mention that he fought.” 

Naruto moved to her seat beside Sakumo and began serving herself, grateful for the distraction. “I haven't exactly seen you since I got home,” she pointed out. She lifted her gaze and immediately met Minato’s. Of course, he was sitting directly across from her. She muttered a curse under her breath and dropped her eyes to her plate, focusing very intently on her food. 

“What did you think, Naruto?” Minato asked.

She looked up again, pretending to chew thoughtfully. He looked… better. His lip was no longer bleeding, the cut above his brow clean and scabbed over. A bruise shadowed his cheek, dark but not swollen. His knuckles were wrapped neatly in gauze. 

After swallowing, she smirked. “Mmm... I’ve seen better.” 

Minato’s brows lifted in mock offense. 

“Oh, come on,” Obito cut in, sending her a knowing look over Menma’s head. “I think even the dead heard you cheering for the Duke.” 

“Wha— no way!” she spluttered, scowling at her laughing brother. The table erupted in amusement. Minato smiled into his drink, eyes flicking to her, while Naruto tried very hard to ignore the heat creeping back into her cheeks. 

“And how much did you bet on him again?” Obito continued far too innocently. “Was it… one hundred crowns? No...two hundred, right?” Naruto froze. “Very confident in him, were you?” he jeered, clearly enjoying himself. 

Naruto wanted to melt straight through her chair and disappear into the floor. She swore, right then and there, that Obito would pay dearly for this. 

Minato choked slightly on his drink, coughing as he set the glass down. His eyes shot up to her, wide with surprise. “Two hundred?” he repeated, disbelief clear in his voice. 

“And that’s not all—” Obito began. 

“Obito,” Naruto hissed, shooting him a warning look.

“She was very enthusiastic about defending you,” Obito went on cheerfully, undeterred. “Against both the prince and me. No offense, Minato,” he added, “but we both thought you were going to lose.” 

Minato blinked. 

“But not Naruto,” Obito prattled. “Oh no, she was adamant in saying that you were going to win and betting against you was foolish.” 

Naruto reached across Menma and smacked Obito squarely on the back of the head.

He yelped and twisted, reaching to retaliate. “Hey!” 

“Alright, that’s enough, children,” Jiraiya laughed, shaking his head. “We’re trying to eat.” 

Obito stuck his tongue out at Naruto in a childish show of defiance. She responded by flipping him off without hesitation. 

“Young lady!” Obito gasped theatrically, clutching his chest. Menma burst into giggles between them, nearly dropping his fork. Naruto’s irritation melted instantly as she looked down at her youngest brother and smiled, tugging him into a loose one-armed hug. 

On the other side of the table, Minato watched the exchange, amused, though his gaze lingered on Naruto just a moment longer than necessary. 

'Two hundred crowns...' 

Naruto, still flustered and pretending very hard that her plate was fascinating, had no idea she’d just made his victory feel even sweeter. Minato looked down at his own plate, trying, and failing, to hide the grin tugging at his mouth. He took a slow breath, careful of his split lip, but the smile only threatened to widen again. She had bet on him. 

On him. 

Not a simple token wager either. Two hundred crowns was no small amount to toss into the ring on faith alone. She’d believed in him that much, defended him, even, against her brother and Gaara. 

The thought sent a rush of love through his chest. For a wild moment, he wanted to stand, circle the table, and lift her clean out of her chair just to spin her around. To tell her how much that meant that she had believed in him so fiercely. He swallowed hard, containing the urge. 

When he had first seen her across the arena earlier, seated between her brother and the red-haired prince, the sight had stolen his breath. The pale blue she wore made her eyes shine brighter than the light shining through the windows. Her hair had been pinned at the sides, the rest cascading in loose curls all the way to her waist. 

He hadn’t seen her since Danzo’s attack. Every instinct in him had screamed to go to her immediately, to kneel at her side, and ask how she was, to brush her hair back from her face. To lean in and— 

He shut that thought down fast. Instead, he’d stayed where he was, watching from across the hall as she laughed, as she leaned forward with excitement, as she jumped to her feet to cheer. Each time she tipped her head back, smiling, his heart ached. He wished it were him beside her at that moment, not Gaara. 

Every time another victorious fighter had leapt down to kiss her knuckles, jealousy had burned hot beneath his skin. They were unworthy of even a fraction of her attention. 

When Guy had called his name, Minato’s first instinct had been to look for her, to see her face. To know whether she saw him as clearly as he saw her. He’d heard her voice during the fight, and for one split second, he faltered, taking a hit to the ribs because of it. When he realized she was cheering for him, not just the fight, a heady surge of energy flooded him. 

He would win. He would not lose, not with her watching. And when he did win, he would lay his own kiss upon her hand. The thought of pressing his lips to her skin had flashed through his mind at the exact moment he threw the final punch that sent A crashing to the floor. 

Now he sat across from the woman he loved, knowing she had cheered for him, defended him, and wagered two hundred crowns on his victory. Minato had not felt this light in days. Despite the bruises, the cuts, the dull ache settling into his bones, he was in a very, very good mood. 

“You still haven’t learned not to bet against Naruto, have you, Obito?” Kakashi said dryly, shooting the younger man a look. 

Obito scowled and slumped slightly in his chair. “I thought for sure I could win this time,” he grumbled. 

Across from him, Naruto looked pleased with herself. She took another bite of her food, chewing slowly, savoring both the meal and her victory. 

“Your sister appears to possess an uncanny ability to place a bet on nearly anything and come out ahead,” Jiraiya added with a chuckle. “I truly do not know where she gets it.” 

Naruto swallowed and laughed. “And now I have your allowance sitting safely in my room,” she teased, “just waiting to be spent at my leisure.” 

“Yeah,” Obito groaned, “mine and everyone else’s.” 

Naruto only laughed harder, leaning back in her chair, utterly unrepentant. She looked so at ease now, so alive, that it was hard to reconcile her with the frightened girl he’d held only days before. Minato lifted his glass again, hiding his smile as he took a slow sip. 

After dinner, Naruto excused herself and retreated to her room. Kakashi, Yamato, and Obito wasted no time dragging Minato off to some unknown corner of the estate, likely in search of a strong drink to properly toast his victory. Sakumo had scoffed when they asked if he wanted to join. 

“No, after last time,” he paused pointedly, “when father and Obito decided moderation was merely a suggestion, I’ve sworn off drinking entirely.” 

Jiraiya only laughed and clapped him on the shoulder before steering Sakumo and Menma toward the family sitting room. Naruto, blissfully unaware of where everyone had scattered, sat cross-legged on her bed. Her gaze lingered on the small flytrap perched on the windowsill, the one Gaara had given her during his first call. It looked delicate despite its strange little teeth, and she found she loved it all the more for that. She reached out and brushed a finger lightly along the pot. Her eyes drifted next to the small pouch of seeds Sasuke had given her. 

She frowned in thought. She hadn’t seen the Uchiha in some time. Had he already left the city? And Itachi…was he still in town, or had he hurried home to be with his pregnant wife? The questions circled endlessly. 

The house had long since settled, yet sleep stubbornly refused to come. Naruto groaned and rolled onto her side, accidentally jostling Kurama. He gave a disgruntled yip, then hopped up onto the pillow beside her, turning in a tight circle before flopping down again with a huff. 

“I’m sorry,” she soothed, running her fingers through his fur until he relaxed once more. Ten more minutes passed, and she was still wide awake.

Naruto groaned again and pushed herself upright. “Alright, fine,” she muttered. “If I can’t sleep, I’ll find a book so boring it knocks me out cold.” 

The plan sounded reasonable enough. She slipped her robe back on, careful not to wake Kurama again, and grabbed a lantern before heading out into the hall. The estate was quiet, shadows cast from her lantern stretching across the floors. As she passed Kakashi’s room, she caught the low murmur of voices and a brief burst of laughter. 

'Still awake,' she noted absently. 

The library greeted her in darkness. Naruto moved forward, setting kindling and coaxing a small fire to life in the hearth. Within moments, the room warmed, shadows retreating as the flames cast a gentle glow across shelves and spines. She wandered through a few rows, dissatisfied. 

“No… no… definitely not…” she muttered under her breath. She needed something truly dull. Maybe one of Kakashi’s history volumes? He had dozens of thick, dense tomes filled with dates, treaties, and endless commentary. One would be perfect to put her to sleep. She dragged the ladder over and stepped up carefully, reaching toward the upper shelves. 

Someone cleared their throat, and Naruto startled violently, her foot slipping on the rung. She caught herself just in time and whipped her head around, scowling at the figure standing casually in the doorway. 

“You scared me!” she hissed. 

Minato laughed softly and stepped fully into the light of the library. “Sorry,” he said, eyes glinting with amusement. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“What are you doing here?” Naruto half demanded, stepping down the ladder and turning to face the duke. 

Minato lifted his hands slightly in surrender, a sheepish smile tugging at his mouth. “I was on my way out when I noticed light beneath the door. I thought someone had left the fire burning and meant to put it out.” He took a few steps closer, voice softening. “But it seems I found you instead.” 

Naruto tugged her robe closed instinctively, suddenly far too aware of the thin fabric beneath it. 

“And what are you doing here?” he asked in return, eyes flicking over her before settling on her face, jaw clenched. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. “So I figured if I read one of Kakashi’s unbearably boring history books, it might knock me out cold.” 

“A reasonable conclusion,” Minato laughed and tilted his head slightly, blue eyes bright in the low light. Her face warmed under his attention, and she turned away. She climbed the ladder again, scanning the upper shelves. After a moment, she made a small triumphant sound. “Aha.” 

She tugged a thick, dust-heavy tome free and started back down. Before she could take a single step, Minato reached up, his hands closing gently around her waist, lifting her with ease and setting her on solid ground. Naruto gasped as her feet left the ladder for a brief, dizzying second. “Minato—!” 

“Sorry,” he murmured. “ I didn’t want you to slip.” 

“Th-thank you,” she stammered, clutching the book to her chest like a shield. 

“Glad I could help."

For a moment, she simply looked at him. The firelight caught in his hair, turning it molten gold. Shadows carved sharper lines along his jaw and cheekbones, emphasizing the bruise still darkening his skin. The cut above his brow was healing, as was his split lip, but the marks of the fight lingered. His tunic was simple, sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms dusted with faint scrapes and bruises. He looked… handsome. 

The thought hit her like a slap. Her blush came fast and fierce, and she snapped her gaze away. 'Bad Naruto. Very bad. Do not think like that about Minato, he is your friend.' 

“So,” Minato said, the corner of his mouth curling into a familiar, cocky smirk. “You cheered me on today.” 

“I—” She spluttered.

“And,” he continued smoothly, “you bet on me. Quite generously, I might add.” His brows lifted. “If I didn’t know any better, Naruto, I’d say you might even like me.” 

She swatted his chest, palm connecting solidly. “Don’t sound so pleased about it. We agreed to be friends and put the past behind us, but even before that, I would have bet on you.” 

“Oh, really?” he asked, leaning down just slightly. 

“Yes, really,” she shot back. “I know of your reputation in prize matches; there was no way A was beating you. He was a good opponent, you were just better.” 

“I was just better,” Minato reiterated, grin widening. 

She shoved his face away. “If you’re not careful, your head will grow so large it won’t fit through the door.” 

He laughed outright. “We wouldn’t want that, would we?” 

She huffed but couldn't stop the smile that formed. “Still,” she said, turning to set the heavy book on the arm of a nearby chair, “it really was a good match. I’ve never seen you fight before.” 

She turned and nearly collided with him. Naruto jumped, heart lurching. Minato had moved closer without her noticing. With the way the shelves were arranged, anyone passing the doorway would only glimpse part of Minato’s arm. The fireplace sat behind him now, flames casting his form into shadow, firelight outlining his shoulders and face in flickering gold. The space between them felt suddenly too small. Naruto swallowed, acutely aware of how fast her heart was beating and how little room she had to step back. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he breathed. “Perhaps I could show you a few moves one day, since you loved the match so much.” 

“Please,” Naruto scoffed, rolling her eyes even as heat lingered on her cheeks. 

“Oh? Think you could do better than me?” He taunted. She looked him over, a spark of confidence flaring to life. Being this close to him sent a thrill through her, one she didn't understand all that much. He was so close she could smell the sweet scent of whiskey on his breath and feel the warmth radiating off him. The house was quiet, the rest of the household asleep save for them. They were alone in the firelit library.  

“More than that, I think I could take you,” she said at last, chin lifting. 

“Really? I’m stronger than you, Naruto.” 

“And I'm fast on my feet,” she shot back. 

“I’m faster,” he countered, tongue briefly passing over his busted lip. 

Her stomach flipped, but she refused to give ground. “I’m unpredictable,” she said with a smug little smile. It was her most defining trait, after all. 

“I’m a genius, remember?” 

“You’re a bastard,” she growled, and he smirked. Her fist shot forward, but Minato caught it easily. She swung with her other hand, but he caught that, too. His grip was tight around her wrists, not painful, just enough to stop her. 

“I’m not the same scrawny boy you used to wrestle in the gardens,” he said, leaning closer. “I’ve gotten better, just as you so kindly pointed out.” 

“You’ve gotten arrogant,” she snapped. She twisted, slipping one wrist free, and shoved him hard. At the same time, she drove her knee upward into his midsection. He hissed as she hit a tender, bruised spot from his earlier fight, but it didn’t slow him for long. Naruto threw another punch. He shifted with it, using her momentum to pivot her sideways. In one smooth motion, he turned them both and backed her against the bookshelves. The wood thudded softly behind her, and her breath hitched. 

His forearm came up, braced lightly across her collarbone and the shelf beside her, holding her in place. They were both breathing a bit heavy now, chests rising and falling in uneven rhythm. His eyes dipped, just for a second, to her lips, then his gaze lifted again, meeting hers. He was so close she could feel the steady brush of his body as they breathed.  

He leaned in, head bowed, lips hovering just above hers. The world seemed to narrow to that single inch of space. His eyes grew heavy, the blue darkening. Naruto felt a rush of heat run through her as his breath puffed against her lips. For a moment, she forgot where she was or what she had been doing. Her only focus was on Minato and the way his large body bracketed hers so easily, on the way he was so close to closing the gap between them.  

Naruto snapped herself out of the haze that settled over her and drove her knee up sharply. Minato jerked back with a grunt, the sudden strike surprising him. She hooked her leg behind his knee and shoved, using that surprise and his balance against him. He went down, and the two of them hit the rug with a muffled thump, Naruto landing over him. She wasted no time in pinning one of his wrists above his head and pressing her other hand lightly to his throat. 

Minato laughed, breathless beneath her. “Are you going to choke me, Naruto?”He asked, voice dipping into a deep purr.

The sound of it sent a heady pulse through her veins, and she gasped, her body shivering. Her grip faltered for half a second, and he took the opening. He twisted, rolling them until their positions reversed. Now she lay beneath him, back against the thick rug, hair fanned out around her head. Minato held her wrists beside her head, his knees bracketing her legs to keep her from wriggling free. Her robe had fallen open in the scuffle, the soft fabric of her nightgown visible beneath. His eyes flicked down, then snapped back up, jaw tightening. She bucked instinctively, trying to throw him off. 

“Keep still,” he growled in warning, his grip tightening just enough to stop her from brushing against his length stirring in his pants, not that she was aware of that fact. She panted, scowling at the blonde atop her. He leaned down again, hovering close, so close she could feel his breath near her mouth once more.  

A smirk curved his lips. “I win,” he whispered. Naruto scoffed but gave a reluctant nod. Minato only hummed in satisfaction and didn’t move. 

“Get off me,” she scowled. 

“Say it,” he needled. “Tell me I won, Naruto.” 

“Screw you!” she hissed, struggling against his hold. 

“I’m not moving until I hear your pretty voice admit I won, fair and square.” 

Her eyes widened, and a fresh blush bloomed across her cheeks. “It was not fair and square,” she protested. 

“Weren’t you the one who said you could take me?”

“I didn’t mean right now! You…you goaded me,” she snapped back indignantly. 

He chuckled but stayed right where he was. “And you threw the first punch, sweetheart. I was just defending myself.” His voice dipped lower. “Now, let me hear you say it.” 

She shook her head stubbornly, turning her face away as much as she could. 

“Come on,” he murmured, his voice brushing her ear and sending another shiver through her. “It’s just a few words.” He pulled back, smiling like he knew exactly what effect he was having on her and enjoying it. 

Naruto narrowed her eyes. Fine, two could play that game. Her expression shifted, softening into something deceptively sweet. She smiled up at him, lashes lowering. “Minato…” she whispered. His grip loosened in surprise, his focus faltering. She pushed up onto her elbows, closing the distance between them. Her legs shifted subtly, bracing. 

“You…” she breathed, lips hovering just shy of his. Her head tilted just enough that another inch would bridge the gap. His breathing picked up, his attention locked fully onto her lips, missing the mischief that flickered in her eyes. Then she moved, her leg shot between them, and she twisted, using his moment of distraction against him. With a quick push and shift of weight, she sent him rolling onto his back. She moved fast, swinging a leg over him and pinning his arms beneath her knees as she settled over his chest. Her palms landed beside his head, caging him in the same way he had her moments ago. 

Minato blinked up at her, stunned. Naruto leaned down slowly, mirroring him, her smile bright and victorious. “I win,” she whispered. "Fair and square."  

“Huh,” he breathed, letting his head fall back against the rug with a soft thud. She giggled and climbed off him, brushing imaginary dust from her robe. Minato pushed himself up onto his elbows, then to sitting, shaking his head with a crooked grin. 

“Maybe my genius is no match for your unpredictability after all.” 

“So it would seem,” she said smugly, offering him a hand. He took it, letting her help pull him to his feet. As he straightened, he winced, a hiss slipping through his teeth when his side shifted the wrong way. Her victory grin vanished instantly. 

“I didn’t make it worse, did I?” she asked, hands hovering anxiously near his bruised ribs without touching. 

“No, Naruto,” he shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s just tender, that’s all.” 

She worried her bottom lip, guilt creeping in. Why had wrestling him seemed like such a good idea? He’d just gone through a brutal prize match. 

“Hey,” his hand lifted, thumb catching her lip where she’d trapped it between her teeth. He nudged it free with a light touch. “I’ve had worse,” he reassured her. “It’s just a bruise.” 

She nodded reluctantly, and a yawn crept up on her without warning. She covered her mouth, eyes watering slightly. “Well, it looks like rolling around on the floor worked better than reading a boring book.” 

He chuckled. She reached for the heavy tome she’d abandoned earlier, but Minato stepped in first. “Let me,” he said, taking it from her and sliding it back into place on the shelf. He didn’t even have to use the latter. 

'Tall bastard,' Naruto thought, rolling her eyes. She snuffed out the fire, and together they walked through the quiet halls, their footsteps the only sound. Minato walked beside her, occasionally glancing her way. 

When they reached her door, Naruto paused and turned to face him. “I… it was really good to see you again,” she admitted. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed his presence until tonight. His teasing, the laughter between them, even the ridiculous wrestling match had been more fun than she’d had in days. 

“I’m sorry for staying away,” he said, eyes softening when they met hers. “I felt like I’d failed you when Danzo escaped and I wasn’t sure… if you’d even want to see me, after everything.” 

He really had changed, hadn't he? Apologizing for something that had never been his fault…The Minato she knew from four years ago wouldn't have cared that she had been attacked in the first place. Naruto smiled, and before she could talk herself out of it, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. He froze in surprise, then slowly returned the hug, arms settling around her shoulders. 

“You haven’t failed me at all,” she whispered against his chest. She pulled back, meeting his eyes one last time. After a nod in goodnight, she slipped into her room, closing the door behind her. 

Minato remained in the hallway a moment longer, staring at the wood paneling in a daze. 

Inside, Naruto tore off her robe and climbed into bed. Kurama barely stirred as she slid under the covers. Her head hit the pillow, and sleep took her instantly. 

Minato lay awake for a long time. 

Every time he closed his eyes, the day replayed in vivid fragments: Naruto’s laugh at dinner and the spark in her eyes as she watched the prize matches, her voice teasing him endlessly in the library, her beneath him on the rug, breathless and defiant. The way her eyes had darkened for just a second when their faces had been inches apart. The shiver that had gone through her when he’d leaned close to whisper in her ear. 

He groaned softly and rolled onto his side, dragging a pillow over his head as if that could smother the memories. 

He’d gotten close…way too close. He knew better. He should have known better. The moment he’d seen the light under the library door, he should have turned around and left, should have wished her goodnight from a distance, or said nothing at all. 

Instead, he’d stepped inside. 

And once he was there, once she’d smiled at him and started teasing him the way she always did, his resolve had unraveled thread by thread. She drew him in like a moth to flame, bright and warm and impossible to ignore. Every smirk, every remark, every challenge in her voice chipped away at his control. 

He was supposed to have more discipline than this. 

She had no idea…no idea what she did to him when she stood too close, when her robe slipped at the shoulder, when she looked up at him with those wide, earnest eyes. No idea how hard he had to fight the urge to erase the last inch of space between them. 

His blood stirred at the memory of her panting beneath him once more, and he cursed through gritted teeth. His erection strained painfully against the mattress, demanding release. But no, he couldn't violate her memory like that, couldn't reduce her to a fantasy for his own desperate pleasure... He wouldn't. 

Yet the sound of her soft gasp when he'd pressed her against the bookshelf invaded his thoughts, and something snapped inside him. With a growl, he flipped onto his back, yanked down his pants, and seized himself, his hiss cutting through the silence of his room. 

He tried to think of anything else, anything but her, but his resistance crumbled as visions of her flushed face and parted lips consumed him. The way she'd practically moaned his name before she'd outsmarted him during their playful wrestling match. How she shivered on top of him, hand around his throat.  

His strokes quickened as he surrendered to the fantasy, his head slamming back as pleasure ripped through him. The image of her in that nightgown and robe taunted him, the firelight revealing her silhouette through thin fabric. Despite his efforts to maintain eye contact only, he'd noticed everything, noticed every curve and dip of her body. 

He thought of her defiant blue eyes and the smile she always flashed at him, foxlike and mischievous. The way she'd arched against him when pinned, creating that momentary, maddening friction. The way their lips hovered within inches of each other. He had been so close to kissing her tonight, to finally giving in to the impulse he's felt for years.  

He thought of the memory of her locking eyes with him and licking cream from her finger after enjoying the sweet dessert, unknowingly awakening the beast Minato kept locked tight in his chest. He wished that he could kiss her, wish he could slide his lips down her body and taste the nectar between her thighs. Wished that he could hold her tightly as he thrusted into her, whispering how much he loved and longed for her.  

Minato bit down on his busted lip until he tasted copper, his back arching off the bed as his climax tore through him. His release painted his heaving chest in hot streaks as he collapsed, his bruised side aching.  

He let out a long breath and reached for the cloth resting on his bedside table, cleaning himself. Finished, he lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, listening to the rhythm of his own breathing as it evened out. Bit by bit, the heated edge of his thoughts dulled. 

When exhaustion finally claimed him, his last thoughts were still of Naruto. 

Naruto huffed out a laugh, watching Yamato and Sakumo argue with increasing intensity over who would be allowed to accompany her on her walk today. Their voices overlapped, each trying to outdo the other, hands gesturing wildly as if this were a matter of great importance rather than a simple stroll through town. 

By the door, Hinata waited patiently. She wore a light purple dress that complemented her eyes, and a white shawl draped over her shoulders. Naruto stood beside her in a pale green dress, hair pinned into an elaborate bun, though a few rebellious strands framed her face. 

“Come on, Hinata,” Naruto said loudly, grabbing her friend’s arm. “Let’s leave the… men… to their barbaric ways.” She shot a pointed look over her shoulder as she tugged Hinata outside into the fresh air. 

Behind them, Yamato and Sakumo cursed in unison and immediately hurried after them, bumping shoulders and muttering insults as they fell into step a few paces back, each determined not to let the other gain ground. Naruto rolled her eyes fondly and glanced at Hinata, who covered her mouth with a hand as she giggled. 

“How have you been, Hinata?” Naruto asked as they started down the street. “And don’t think you can avoid it, tell me about the man you danced with at the Nara gallery.” 

Hinata’s cheeks flushed faintly. “I’ve been well, Naruto,” she said softly. “His name is Kiba Inuzuka; he was very kind.” 

Naruto’s head snapped toward her. “Inuzuka?” she gasped. “As in Earl of Blackmoor, Kiba Inuzuka?” 

Hinata nodded shyly. 

“Hinata!” Naruto exclaimed, nudging her friend with her elbow. “You caught the eye of an earl!” 

“He’s called on me since our dance. My father isn’t fond of him, but…I really like him.” Hinata ducked her head, smiling.

Naruto scoffed. “Who cares what your father thinks? This is your future. If you like Lord Blackmoor, then you should be with him.” 

Hinata smiled at her encouragement. “I think you would get along with him very well,” she added as they passed into a small market square, her arm looping comfortably through Naruto’s. “His family breeds dogs. He has a hound named Akamaru.” 

Naruto grinned as she listened, half-distracted by the colorful stalls lining the street. Her eyes drifted from fabrics to produce to polished metal.  

'Wait....' 

She slowed, gaze catching on a pink-haired girl manning a weapons stall. The girl stood her ground in a heated exchange with a customer, arms crossed as the man gestured aggressively toward a dagger laid out on the table. He clearly wanted a lower price, but the girl didn’t budge. Eventually, the man huffed, slapped coins onto the table, and stormed off. The girl scooped up the money with a satisfied expression. 

Naruto smiled and was just about to step forward when a familiar voice called out. 

“Miss Sakura.” 

Naruto froze as Sasuke stepped into view, stopping in front of the stall and offering a small bow of his head. 

Sakura startled, fumbling slightly. “M-my lord, it’s lovely to see you.” 

Naruto’s brows lifted, and she gently tugged Hinata toward a stack of crates near the stall, crouching just enough to stay out of sight. 

“Naruto?” Hinata whispered, confused. 

“Shh,” Naruto murmured, pointing discreetly toward the pair. 

“Please,” Sasuke said with a smile, “just call me Sasuke, as I’ve told you before.” Sakura’s face flushed, and she nodded.

“I was wondering,” Sasuke continued, “if I might inquire about commissioning a sword.” 

Sakura brightened immediately. “Oh well, my father usually prices them by length and—” 

“No,” Sasuke interrupted gently. “Not by your father, by you.” 

“By me?” Her eyes widened, and Sasuke nodded.

“I…I don’t usually,” Sakura stammered. “I mean, I haven’t really made one for anyone yet. My father says I’m not ready.” 

“I would still like one made by you.” 

Naruto watched the exchange, a slow smile spreading across her face. 

'Really, Sasuke,' she thought, equal parts amused and fond. 'What were you doing with me when you so clearly like her?'

She watched them talk for a little longer before tugging at Hinata’s arm. “Come on,” she whispered, steering them away in another direction before she could be noticed. Behind them, Sakura’s laughter drifted through the market air. 

“Was that Sasuke Uchiha talking to a stall manager?” Hinata gasped. “He looked… well… isn’t he supposed to be courting you?” 

Naruto hummed, a grin tugging at her lips as they continued walking. “I think I need to have a talk with Sasuke…and she’s not just a stall manager, she’s a blacksmith’s daughter. Which means it’s very likely she knows the trade just as well as her father.” 

"And you’re not… bothered by it? Weren’t you really happy that Sasuke was one of your suitors?” 

Naruto slowed her steps, considering the question honestly. No, she wasn’t bothered at all. She had been happy when Sasuke had expressed interest, yes. He was familiar, safe in a way that a constant presence in her childhood would be. She loved him, but not in the way a wife should love her husband. It was the love she held for her brothers, for someone who had grown up at her side and would always have a place in her life. 

“No,” she said to Hinata. “I’m not bothered at all.” 

They walked in companionable silence for a few moments, the sounds of the market fading behind them as the street opened into another lane. 

Hinata spoke up again. “Naruto… your letter. The way you wrote it, you sounded like you were really struggling. Has everything been alright?” 

“To be honest with you, Hinata…I am struggling.” She clasped her hands together, gaze fixed ahead. “You know Prince Gaara, of course. He’s kind, and he makes me laugh. He’s never been arrogant or cruel to me, not once. I… I really like him. I could see myself marrying him.” 

“But?” 

“But lately,” Naruto continued, voice dropping to a whisper that Hinata had to lean in to hear, “my mind has been stuck on someone else.” 

Her thoughts betrayed her instantly, blond hair lit by firelight, blue eyes taunting, the warmth of his body close to hers in the library. The memory of him pinning her down, of the way he looked at her when he thought he’d won. Heat crept up her neck, and she looked away from Hinata. 

“Is it… Minato?” Hinata hedged, glancing back to ensure Naruto’s brothers were far enough behind not to overhear. Naruto nodded, and Hinata gasped. 

“We’ve been getting along so well recently,” Naruto explained, “More than well, honestly, and now I can’t stop thinking about him. And I...well, I feel like I should be thinking about Gaara instead of Minato, right? Minato is my friend, we've only just reconciled.” She worried her lip, eyes dropping to the ground. 

“Naruto,” Hinata said kindly, “I think you should follow what your heart is telling you.” Naruto stiffened beside her. “Do you… like the Duke?” 

Naruto’s head snapped up, horror written across her face. “What? No—no way, not like that. That wouldn’t be right... I mean, I couldn’t possibly—” 

Hinata stopped walking and turned to face her fully, hands clasping Naruto’s. “Naruto, the Duke is a very handsome man. He’s wealthy, powerful—second only to the Queen herself. His lands are well cared for, and his people adore him. He’s brilliant, respected, and considered one of the most eligible men in the country. It’s alright if you find yourself drawn to someone like that.” 

“But…it’s Minato,” Naruto whispered. “He was cruel to me, not that long ago. And now…Now I feel so conflicted. It’s like my heart doesn’t even care about that anymore. I have so much fun with him when we are together, Hinata, more fun than I’ve ever had with Gaara or Sasuke.” The admission left her feeling raw. 

Hinata studied her thoughtfully. “Have you ever asked yourself why his change toward you hurt so much?” 

“What do you mean?” Naruto frowned.  

“He’s always been a close family friend,” Hinata remarked. “You ran around together as children, you even made him play your knight in shining armor while Kakashi was the dragon. But when Minato’s behavior toward you changed, it hurt you deeply, and after that argument some years ago… I’ve never seen you cry like that.” 

“Because he said a lot of awful things to me,” Naruto replied, confused. “Anyone would be hurt.”

'Where was Hinata going with this?' 

“Naruto,” Hinata shot her a fond look, squeezing her hand. “You’ve heard cruel words from others before, and you brushed them off. You never cared what they thought, still don’t in fact. So why did Minato’s words matter so much?” 

Naruto opened her mouth to respond, then closed it. “Cause…I mean…” she stuttered. “They just did, okay? I do not know why, but they did.” 

“I think, to understand what’s happening now, you need to think about why Minato hurting you mattered enough to break your heart back then and why you avoided him for years afterward.” 

Naruto nodded slowly, her thoughts already spiraling. It seemed she had much more to untangle than she’d realized. She sighed, frustration weighing heavily in her chest, as they resumed their walk. 

Eventually, the two young women reached the point where their paths diverged. Naruto slowed, turning toward the Hyuuga residence just as Hinata did the same. The afternoon sun had begun to dip, casting its light across the street. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” Naruto said. “At the ball.” 

“Yes, and I’m glad we talked.” 

“So am I,” Naruto replied honestly. They shared a brief hug before Hinata stepped back, lifting a hand in farewell as she headed toward her family’s home. Naruto watched her go, her mind still a mess from everything they’d discussed. She turned back toward her own house, only to run straight into Sakumo as he stepped into the doorway. 

“So,” he said casually, passing by her with a knowing look, “what did you two talk about? You seemed pretty deep in conversation for a while.” 

“None of your business, that’s what!” Naruto scowled, planting her hands on her hips. Sakumo laughed, enjoying her reaction. Yamato, who had followed behind, shook his head with a fond sigh and continued inside without comment. Naruto huffed, but before going in herself, she glanced across the street one last time toward the Hyuuga home.

Then she squared her shoulders and turned inward. There was a ball tonight, and she had a great deal to prepare for.