Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Part I: Senju
Chapter 1: Last Entry.
I've been having these weird dreams lately...of dead people coming to me.
A few years ago they used to cry and scream about 'what the hell was I doing fucking up things so badly?' or 'it's all my fault and I've got to pay'.
Now they don't.
Jiraiya was the first to come. He'd just stand there looking at me with this stupid grin on his ghastly pale face then he'd tell me 'keep it up, don't lose hope' which is ridiculous of course because what the hell do I need hope for now?
Sakura and Tsunade usually come in pair, wearing twin look of fond exasperation. Their grimace-looking smiles looked strange on the translucent canvas that is their skin. But that's okay cause' at least they aren't crying any more. Instead, they'd just keep reminding me of stuffs, trying to make sure that I 'take care of myself and remember to practice my medical jutsus at least once a day'.
Now, the thousand years toad sage is a bit tricky. I have no idea why he'd come at all. We weren't close enough. In fact, we haven't even met face-to-face, only through the words of other toads. I wasn't even there when the Bijus tore into Mt. Myobokuzan and massacred the whole toad village. But here he is, dozing on and off for most of the times in my dreams. On the rare occasions when he's lucid enough, he'd watch me from his great toad throne, mumbling on about 'prophesized child' and ' harbinger of revolution'.
I can't escape him. He's just there, throughout my dreams.
There were others too: the rest of the rookie nine, my faithful ANBU who used to guard me days and nights, Konohamaru and his team, proudly wearing their too early field promotion to Jounin on their foreheads and that same stupid grin on their faces.
They said to me 'Come on Naruto. Go on. Fight!'
I can't understand them. I can't understand them at all.
Fight for what? For the crater that used to be my beloved home? For the people whose graves upturned by my war?
Fight. That's all I'm doing these days.
Sleep. Heal. Eat. Fight. fight. Fight. fIgHt.
No time to think. No time to cry. I have to go on. I have to run. The next battle is just around the corner.
Confusion. Questions. questions. Questions.
I still can't understand them. Can't...
But it's okay. I'm sure I'll find out.
I can just ask them. Yes, I should ask them.
After all, I'm coming to them soon. Yes. Tomorrow.
The last fight waiting.
I'll meet them again. Then, I'll ask.
Last entry - Uzumaki Naruto, Rokudaime Hokage.
He woke up to a numbing pain and a permeating sense of wrongness.
It wasn't from the stone 7 by 10 room he was in nor was it from the boy hovering above him, looking down with clearly startled eyes. Instinctively, he tried to move but found he couldn't. Instead, the muscles on his neck bulged and a piercing pain flared in answer.
"Don't." Said the boy, holding his hands out high to show that he wasn't holding any kunai or ropes. There were yards of stained bandages on his hands though, and their other end was wrapped around him.
His head ached and screamed.
He tried to twitch his toe but came back negative. A finger. Also no. The pain was coming from his torso but the rest was numb. He couldn't even feel the bandages being pulled from his body.
The pain cling, wrapped around him. Pain?!
He could feel pain! That meant he was alive.
The word jarred and for a moment, his mind was still, stunned with shock and horror.
"It's alright" The boy patted his arm in a soothing gesture. "You're safe...from whoever did this to you."
'I did this to myself'
"I found you in my garden. I thought you were a corpse. Turned out you were still alive. A miracle that."
The boy was done with his arms and suddenly he was closer, his palm closing in on his forehead.
"You don't have a fever. That's good. We won't have to worry about that. I'm going to remove your mouth piece. Try not to swallow."
There was a click and wet slurshh. He felt something hard and cold being unlodged from his throat. He peered at it over his nose. A tube piece? They were feeding him through a tube piece. How long had he been here? Had his body atrophied? A few years maybe.
"Now, try to make a sound."
Numbly, he obeyed. The sounds coming from his stiff tongue and mouth were hoarse, the words mutilated. He could make out the faint 'a' and 'e' but the rest was a jumbled mess.
"Which clan are you from? We can try contacting your family to get you back."
An alien feeling rose along with the word. He hadn't been asked anything about his family for a long time now.
"..da...a~al...all died..." He struggled with the words, trying to force them out one-by-one. The need to confess pressed down on him. His fault. They said. His.
Wetness stained his face, running down along the curve of his skull. He felt the patchy area where they wet. Was his hair shorn off too? Or perhaps they had burned in the fire of Amaterasu. He found he didn't give a damn.
The memory came, unbidden.
The world burning down around. He was screaming. Kyuubi was screaming. Madara was . Kamui. The red Sharingan spun. Bijus closing in. One, two,....eight of them. His Rasenshuriken howled in return, feeding off the chakra running through the mountain of seals around them.
And the world danced merrily.
"...I ha...hav'...nu hom to return ta..."
The room wavered, closing in. He could see the boy's face falling, the eyes, a warm wood brown, averting from him.
'I don't need your sympathy!' His inside screamed hoarsely.
He wasn't supposed to be alive. That he remembered. He was prepared for his death. Everything was ready. Just like how his father had sacrificed himself to save Konoha, now he'd sacrificed himself to save...well...not the villages, for there were no villages left. But he knew there was still people alive somewhere..There must be....in Taki, in Claw, somewhere. There was no hope for the rest of the shinobis, but the hiding civilians...he knew some were alive.
He was going to die but he was taking Madara and all the Bijus with him. He would rid the world of them both. He was going to see his family again, except he had failed.
And now he was here, alone in god knew where.
His eyes stung. He could feel the tears matting down his hair.
"Sleep" said the boy. "You'll feel better when you wake up."
Sleep? Yes. He couldn't take this now. His exhausted mind wasn't up to the task. Sleep...
He let his eyes droop and the world went mercifully dark around him.
The great toad sage was in front of him again, bobbing his head as he whirled the gray mist around him with his gnarled smoke pipe.
"I remember you. Yes. You're that child, the one I saw. Though..." He faltered here, his bleary eyes squinting as if trying to get a better view at the tiny blond in front of him. "...you do appear a little different."
Another dream? Again. When was it going to end? He fisted his knuckles, trying to find something else to stare at instead of the wrinkled old toads but there were no one else except for the vast land of gray mist around them. He was feeling sick in his stomach, sick of all the cryptic messages, sick with the knowing looks, the prophesies, the tones, sick with being constantly in the dark, of having to question himself again and again.
"Shut. up!" He snapped suddenly, pushing the words from his mouth in guttural growls. " I don't want to hear your yabbing right now." The great toad blinked, his pipe drooped down. The look on his face brought him a tiny flare of vicious delight but it was short-live.
"You know what I'd like to do to you right now? Sitting on that fat ass of yours, smoking that weed, droning on about prophesies and shits, like you actually have half a nut about what's going on outside, to us, humans!" He swung his arm, pointing a finger accusingly at the toad. The anger bubbled, pressing in his chest.
"Shima-ma was right. I should never have listened to you...you..."
"It's all because of you. I believed in you..." His words faltered for a mere seconds. "I believed in you and Jiraiya and that stupid prophesy of yours...I believed I could change the world...that I could bring peace..."
The toad stared at him and his pointing fingers, chewing thoughtfully on his pipe.
The ground wavered beneath his feet. Why was he doing this again? Why was he here? Why wasn't he with his family? He was so tired, so tired. He wanted to sleep. He wanted this long day to finally end. Why couldn't it all stop? Why couldn't he die along with Madara? Die. Why did he survive? There was no one alive but him. He was alone. Again. He wanted nothing more of this. No more fighting, no more shinobi, no more anything.
The world should be rid of him.
"Look at me..." the words came out hoarse and shaky even to his own ears. "...I changed nothing. I brought nothing but death and war..."
Tired. Exhausted. His feet ached from the running, his hands stained from seal inks. He knew he was only laying blame on the old toad, doing the same ol' "finger-pointing" game but he couldn't help it. He'd hoped for too much, fought for too long.
This war was consuming him.
"Do you see it? Do you understand? I made people believe in me. They died for me, died smiling, believing that they'd helped me."
...every single one of them...
"...please! Just...just go! I don't want to see you. I can't deal with your demands right now."
He stood, staring numbly at the toad, the anger and frustration he's bottled up already bled out from his previous battle. He felt hollow without it, bereaved off the drive it used to give him. This wasn't his enemy. The eyes weren't that black and red colours. This wasn't the man who had driven them both to the end with his cursed vendetta.
"Are you quite done yet? Children these days, so quick to blow up!" The toad huffed once, shaking his massive head at him.
"Are you still waiting for one of yours to come and replace me? Well, I'll tell you this now: no other will come to you, except me. Have you realized, child, that this is no mere dreams of yours?"
The mist churned around him, rippled then lightened into a familiar blue tint. He realized it immediately.
He was standing amidst chakra fog?
"There. I see you have finally paid some attention to me. Have you calmed down yet or perhaps I should postpone this talk, hm?"
The smoke pipe swung and all of a sudden, he was high on his tip toes with his chin being pushed up, his face weakly glaring eye-to-eye with the toad sage. The clay bowl of the pipe burned hotly under his chin, fanning the smell of opium into his nostrils.
"I admit that I don't know you as well as my students, however, remember that I too have lost...I'm sure you know. Shima and Fukasaku were my only students. My best. Gamabunta..." He sighed at this "...Gamabunta was my grandchild. You're not alone in this Uzumaki Naruto."
"That behaviour, although I understand it, are not going to help you."
The toad finally let go of him before the heat and the smell from his pipe became too much.
"You asked for peace. Peace. Yet you detest the pain that comes with it. No peace comes for free, Uzumaki Naruto. Or are you so arrogant to think that peace can be achieved so easily? So worthlessly? Do not cheapen your comrade's sacrifice. They did not die just for you. They died fighting for their belief. Or..." He paused here, his once bleary eye unnaturally bright and calculating. "...or have you forgotten what it is you fight for? Too many brawls have finally muddled your brain, perhaps."
"No! Of course not!" He denied vehemently. How could the toad even think that? He'd lost his mentors, his friends, his family, and even himself to this war, for the peace so sought after. Wasn't it enough? What more could be asked from him?
"PAIN!" The toad rumbled. "Pain is necessary. Your adversary had taught you that if nothing else. It is payment you must give for the price you asked."
"Why?" His voice trembled as he forced the words out of his mouth. " Why are you telling me this? It's all over. Madara is dead. So are the Bijus. There's no ninja left in this world but me." And if he had any say about that, he would end it soon. There was nothing left in this world for him. Let him be the one to write the end note to ninja history.
The toad was silent, studying him from above. This conversation was thinning him out. He did not want to be here.
"Is that what you think?...You do not understand." Started the toad. "You have never understood. You were born in a time when you had to ask for nothing. You've never seen what started the shinobis or why we even started at all. But I will make you."
"You see, I've watched you for a long time now. Since you were quickening in your mother's womb in fact. I looked into your future and what did I see?" He shook his wrinkled head, snarling as he did so. "You fight a losing war where the end is destruction of everything. Your victory is moot. Your fight came too late to change anything, if at all. Your comrade is dead, so is my brood and so am I. There is nothing alive left on this earth. Nothing but dirt and rock! But I, I am not satisfied with that. Unlike you, I want to live and I want all of mine to live too. I think you'd want the same wouldn't you?"
He looked at the toad in muted horror? He'd destroyed everything?
"I've foreseen your last battle since years ago. I was prepared. Can you remember? The last technique he'd used on you?"
Of course he remembered? How could he not when every minute of it was etched onto his mind. Kamui.
"You can't mean that."
"Yes, I do. What would you have done if you were in my place? If I had let that gone on, you'd have been dead, torn to pieces and sent to a dimensional wasteland. So...."
"Do you take me for a fool? It is impossible to send a living creature through time space." He'd know. He'd tried many times before, devising humongous seals in the hope that he can somehow undo everything. But all the things he had sent through either hadn't made it or had come back dead, their body decomposed down to the cellular level. Yet as he said this, he felt a glimmer of hope. Could the toad have done something he was unable to? He might. He had lived for centuries after all. And if his experience with Kyuubi was anything to go by, beings of that magnitude, that age and power, detested death. They had gotten too used to living to accept it.
"Ah, but that is the crux of thing isn't it? You weren't creature enough to die then." As he said this he lifted one webbed hand to swirl the air in front of him. The mist churned, thickened into a reflective surface.
It was somewhat distorted and foggy but the thing inside was clearly not him. The air stilled for a moment as he stared. No, that could not be him.
"Are you afraid of yourself, Uzumaki Naruto? You shouldn't be. You've been granted a rare power."
He gritted his teeth. The creature mirrored him, crushing its fangs together. Its eye, thankfully, was still a familiar blue shade.
"Rare power? I am a monster." He gritted out.
"Don't be stupid. You've simply become something else, a being more of chakra than of flesh. That saved your life and soon, ours too. What did you think would happen when you killed all the Bijus, huh? Their bodies may be dead but an energy amount that massive wasn't going to just disappear off the face of earth. And then there you were, in your sage mode, too busy sucking in all that chakra to actually notice the difference. Bijus, monster as they were, are still a part of nature, you know."
The toad sage laid a hand on his shoulder in a gesture that was supposed to be soothing.
"Don't be afraid of yourself. You've done something not even the Sage of six paths could do. You've devoured...no, assimilated all of the Bijus. And don't be so quick to hate. Your body may not be entirely yours now but your mind is the same and if you want to stay human, you know that no one could prevent you from doing that."
"You make it sound so easy. It's more trouble than it's worth." He wasn't stupid. Any normal shinobi might look at this situation and thought it a blessing. But Naruto, who had housed the greatest of the Bijus for more than 26 years, knew better. If only one beast was enough to shoot his chakra control to hell for 16 years and require a perpetual seal on hands to make sure he didn't go berserk and kill all the people he was supposed to protect, then what did having the chakra of all the Bijus mean now?
He shuddered as he thought of all the possible scenarios. He might very well become a second Ten-tailed demon if he found himself unable to cope with the power. He might not even need to lose control to cause problems. He suspected a simple unpowered-up Rasengan from him would now be a lot more trouble than it was.
Could he control it? There was no use but harm if he couldn't. That, and he hadn't even taken into consideration his medical ninjutsu, all of which required precise control of chakra. He'd never managed to fully develop his control without a suppression seal when he'd only had Kyuubi to think about. He'd surely need a seal now, a massive one, if he wanted to make any use of the humongous amount of chakra and trouble that he'd just gotten.
He pulled a hand to his face and watched the creature did the same, feeling an odd mixture of emotions along with the gesture, a little bit of fear and a little bit of hope. And uncertainty...
"Yes, it will be a problem." Said the toad, still hovering above him. "But anything worth fighting for is always problematic."
"Do...Do I look like this outside too?" He asked as he studied the creature in the mirror. It was humanoid enough to pass for human and it looked like him. But he doubted he could do anything if he went around looking like a mass of condensed purple chakra. The thought of having to maintain a constant henge for the rest of his life like Tsunade did just wasn't to his liking.
"I doubt that. This realm of mine was designed to reflect the spiritual mind, the chakra source of people in it, not their flesh. Though, if I were to guest, I'd say your body would have been changed somewhat. Try to keep an open mind. You might even like the result."
Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one having to anticipate some weird modifications to his body, a few extra limbs perhaps, a third eye, maybe even a second head. Once again, he scowled at this new revelation.
All of a sudden, the mast of gray mist churned and thinned between them. The toad looked at this in alarm.
"We don't have much time left." He looked at Naruto who was glaring right back with exasperation.
"Now, listen to me. I've sent you back...well I'm not quite sure of the exact date..."
"...time isn't the same when you're at my age, but I know it is far in the past, your past, at the root of all conflicts in your time. You shall have all the time you need to prepare. And prepare well. Remember, your sworn enemy, Madara, is only a symptom of what has since long been there, a disease that comes with being human, another Pein. He is...most like you..."
The toad ignored his incredulous stare.
" Do not be hasty in your judgement. Watch and learn. And..."
The toad's eyes opened wide as if to make a point even when his body was slowly but steadily fading into the vast greyness.
"Do not turn from your destiny. All your comrades have died just to bring you to this point. This is the turning point in you battle. This shall be the last thing I can do for you. Do not waste it."
And he was gone.
The moment the two persons, a middle aged woman and a plain looking man, entered the room, he knew he'd get nothing from them.
They both paused momentarily at the door, staring at him with downcast eyes and slumped postures that told of trained servitude, before gingerly approaching the small bed he was on. Their clothes, robes of ratty gray hemp, rattled noisily as they moved.
The man put one callused hand under his back and another at his knees, and with one mighty heave, picked him up from his mattress.
"To the bathroom." The woman commanded in a harrying voice as she skulked behind them.
His head hang limply to a side as he let them carry him out through a lit corridor without protest nor question, one hand swinging off to a side. A short and uninterrupted walk later, they entered a different room, this one made of woven bamboo instead.
A sense of restless unease gripped him like a vice as the man positioned him on a gurney to a side of the room before hastily exiting. A large wooden tub filled with water sat beside the gurney.
He watched the woman worked, buzzing about him the manner of a bee around a heavily pregnant stamen, readying pots and bottles. Thoughts race through his mind as he observed her dark gnarled hands.
'Servants, the both of them. And what stiff posture.' A normal peasant shouldn't have been so nervous around a wounded person like him. These were trained and trained servants naturally didn't come cheap. Despite his ability to be as lethal as he wanted, Naruto knew he didn't pose an intimidating figure, lacking in height as he was. There was only one explanation. Whoever had taken him in was either extremely wealthy to the point that they could own numerous life-long servants regardless of their up-keeping cost....or, and this one he was leaning more to, they were trained in military arts. At the very least, enough so that even servants like these knew to be wary.
He noticed the woman advancing on him, a sharp pair of scissors gleaming in her hand. Immediately, his chakra bubbled in response, roiling angrily beneath his skin, just waiting to be unleashed.
'Steady!' He growled in his mind, grappling for control. It obviously wouldn't look too good if he were to accidentally blow up the servant of whoever he was indebted with because he couldn't control his overloaded chakra system. The need to be in more control of the situation gnawed at him, demanded that he do something, like grab that woman and start shooting off questions, or maybe just jump off the gurney and start running, but he persisted. First, because his body was currently unable to comply with either options. Second, he had no clue as to where he was? who was holding him? and most important, was their intention hostile or friendly? Thus, if he moved rashly now he might do more damage than good.
His options were limited, but what he needed to do now was try to assess the damages done to his body and wait until he could see someone who could give him answers without jeopardizing himself any further.
His yukata came off with a tug. The woman slid the edge of the scissors underneath the bandages and started her cutting. She worked diligently, hands moving noiselessly in a practised ease that could only come from routines repeated a thousand times over, always making sure to lay her eyes anywhere but his face.
So, his first assessment was correct then. It was futile to try and strike up a conversation. Perhaps 'slave' was a better term to describe what she was. One of those who had served for so long that every notion of freedom and equality had long since been chased out of their mind.
And that pitched the question of when exactly was he?
He'd known from his experience that behaviour like this only occurred in the most harsh, most war-torn period where death and poverty reigned supreme and freedom easily sold for a meagre chance of survival.
He knew of only a few times that would qualify. The great shinobi wars would probably be his best guesses.
Satisfied that he had, at least, dug out the first solid clue as to his own whereabouts, he let his mind relaxed. His eyes lazily traced the woven pattern of the ceiling. Though there was no sensation coming from his lower body, he could still feel a draft caressing the bare skin on his chest as more bandages were shorn off.
When she was finished with his bandages, the woman picked up a water-filled hand-pot and started washing him, starting first with his head.
He sighed blissfully as warm water and fingers threaded through his hair and kneaded his scalp. God, it had been a long time since he'd had a decent bath. Though it embarrassed him to admit it, he must have stunk to heaven when they found him. Plus, it was good to know whoever was holding him thought him important enough for this sort of treatment.
The hair washing was done a little bit too soon to his liking. A hand pushed itself beneath his neck and back and slowly lifted him into a sitting position.
'This is it' He thought to himself.
From the time he'd woken up in the stone room, he'd been unable to survey if there were external changes to his body as he was laid lying down on a low-raised wood pillow where his eyes couldn't go pass even the tip of his nose. As a result, he'd been burning with anxiety since then. The old toad's words and the dismaying thoughts of finding his body plus a few extra appendages swam tormentingly in his mind.
Finally, he was sitting up with his back leaning on a section of the wall. Slowly, a bit hesitantly, he directed his gaze downward and promptly sucked in a strangled breath.
The good thing was he hadn't sprouted any extra hand or leg, and his skin though slightly flushed held that distinct tender shine that only newly re-grown skin after a bad burn could have. He noted with some mild irritation that his seal tattoos have also been shed off along with his old skin.
The bad thing, however...
Naruto stared dumbly at the gentle swells of breasts sitting defiantly on his chest as if they really had any business being there. His gaze slid a little further down, past the expense of smooth creamy skin dripping with droplets of water, to rest on a decidedly non-male sex.
For a dizzying moment, he thought he was dreaming a bizarre dream in which he was somehow stuck in his oiroke form.
The thought was destroyed as soon as it was birthed. It was too slender, the chest too small and the limps too soft-looking to be that of his provocative oiroke. To add to that, the servant woman was still diligently washing his body with a fistful of sand and water. Her rough fingers and the grains of sand elicited goose bumps that ran along his torso, a sensation too real to be that of a dream, or felt by a semi-henge form. His pink-tipped nipples hardened in reaction, much to his muted horror.
A chill ran through his body...
No. What was he thinking? This was not his body. His body was tanned, corded with wiry muscles, and strong...and male! This thing was anything but.
No. Though it looked deceptively human, this was a body created by demons.
A demon's body.
He remembered having read this exact same scenario in one of Jiraiya's numerous raunchy titles. In which a young shinobi's jutsu backfired on its user and turned him into a woman. The plot then veered towards hair-brained and copious amount of lesbian actions aided by uncountable number of adult toys. It was played for laugh. Naruto, however, didn't even feel remotely like laughing now.
A demon. The ultimate tailed beast had touched him. Had touched him more intimately than he'd touched any of his past lovers. Had crawled its fingers into him deeper than anyone else had and changed him.
Kekkai genkai that transformed. Techniques that changed the user's body. There was something deeply intrusive about them, like the way Kimimaro's blood-speckled bone-white spine and rib-cage had slithered right off his back, or the way Ukon's weaken body had crept near, nearer, and then into Sakon's until only an extra head hanging from the back was the only out of the ordinary note.
It was the difference of looking at mangled corpses on the battlefield and waking up in your bed sweaty and naked next to a cold dead body.
A little too close. A little too personal.
It was how he was feeling right now. Invaded. Vulnerable. Ripped off of his identity. He resisted the urge to giggle deliriously.
As if in response, something stirred, undulating beneath the bottomless pool of his chakra, then laughed quietly.
He gasped. His body strained with the need to move.
"Please!" he managed to croak weakly at the woman, watching her body stiffened at his voice. "Get me out of here"
Some times during their walk between the bath house and his room, Naruto managed to wrestle back some semblance of control of his wayward emotions.
If there were any doubts before this, they were now gone. The Toad Sage was proven right...and wrong at the same time. He hadn't quite managed to destroy the tailed beasts as he'd planned. Something had remained of them, as the undeniable fact that he was sharing his body with something not quite human and he had no real clue to what it was. Perhaps one of the Bijus had managed to survive, or maybe it was only their imprints like how his father had been, maybe the great Ten-tailed itself or maybe something else all together. Something told him that he really didn't need or want to find out.
He tried to ground himself to reality, to concentrate on something, anything. The dirt gray smooth panes of the walls, no windows, built to contain, to cage, obviously modelled with a well done Doton. The sparse gurney like beds and crisp white sheets paralleling his. The overpowering scent of chemical sterilizer underlined with the bitter tang of moist death that hadn't quite left yet.
A typical shinobi infirmary. Yet his mind couldn't quite wrap itself around this little fact yet. It was too hard feeling like he did now. A strange sense of disconnection. He felt as if he was looking out from the eyes of another person, twitching and moving someone else's body. He might as well have.
He was a woman,... and probably part demon.
He decided to push back thinking on it.
It was at this time that he experienced what was probably the several most unnerving minutes of his life, thoughts juggled and raced in his head, interspersed with panic, indignant anger and derision that he didn't want to touch on, then...the door opened.
A boy walked in, tall with a peculiar gait to his stance.
Naruto's eyes latched onto him immediately. He knew this one. This was the same boy who was tending to him earlier.
Very well then. He thought quietly to himself as he watched the boy moved with a grace, though slightly hindered with a limp, impossible to ordinary peasants. You'll be the one to answer my question.
"A shinobi..." He said, voice crisp. The boy paused about two steps to his bed, a look of surprise on his face.
"A shinobi like you. What do you want from me?"
Ten years ago, he probably wouldn't think of asking this sort of questions. No, at that age, young and full of impossible dreams, he would have probably thanked his savers then carried on unquestionably, unthinkingly. But time had changed him. Now he knew not to demand ideals out of people.
"Don't bother." He cut in when he saw the boy about to question him. "The clothes you wear. Too good for a peasant." And they were, though of a uniformly dark colour not normally seen in the wealthy-and-prone-to-flaunt's clothings, soft and fine-woven. "Your hands are callused. That's not a little lordling's hands." Calluses on the inside of the palms and fingers. Those did not come from writing with brushes. Those were sword calluses. Too familiar for him to forget. He'd gotten many of that same blisters trying to improve his Taijutsu and weapon handling. " And..." He gestured with his eyes towards the boy's legs.
"I bet you just had a little scuffle too. Been limping, haven't you? You hid it well."
The boy stared at him with something akin to wonder on his face, then it broke and his lips quivered lightly into an amused half-smile. He pulled a stool close then settled down by Naruto's bed.
"I...guess I'm not going to be able to introduce myself like I thought I would." He set a box, light brown wood carved with leaves patterns on the bed, then offered him a tentative smile.
"I heard from Enpitsu-san that you woke up. I thought you'd be hungry so I brought you something to eat."
The blond jinchuriki blinked slowly. Now that he was paying it some attention, there was a definite smell of inviting warm broth wafting gently from it.
Feeling a bit like he just kicked a puppy but still yet undeterred, he turned back to the boy.
"You still haven't answered my question." His voice was softer now, but it still held an edge. Though the normal protocol of his days would be to detain the unknown shinobi in a special isolation ward for both care and surveillance, he doubted it would be the same in this time line. If his guess was correct then it was irrational for a war-time village to take in a near-dead invalid unknown such as him. The time and resources wasted on him could have been used for one of their own.
Unless they wanted something from him.
The boy sighed resignedly, seemingly to have given up on trying to have a politely civilian introduction.
"My father would like to know which clan you are from, and about your enemy. I was the one who found you so you became my responsibility."
He nodded in acceptance. Security reason huh. They probably wanted to know who could have gotten pass their guard and picked a fight in their back yard without their knowing. Probably wanted to know if he were still around too.
"He's dead." He said simply. " And what happened to me?" He needed to know the full extent of the damages done to his body. Whatever the changes the Bijus had done to him hadn't managed to heal him completely. Perhaps it was the change, or the journey though time space itself that wrought it. He'd had a few guesses but they were blurry at best, helpless as he was.
He watched the boy face tightened momentarily. It was that bad, huh.
"Go on. Don't pull back." He coaxed gently, somewhat reminded of a different little boy who used to call him "boss", followed him everywhere when he was in the village and encored his cry-baby act all over him whenever he came back from a particularly gruesome battle, bandaged up to his hair lines. Konohamaru had always been a bit of an emotional one. It was one of the reasons why he never wanted to make him Jounin in the first place. He was just a little bit too bright, a little bit too full of sunshine and laughter, a little bit too much like a different young Uzumaki to be condemned to spend his youth out on the battlefield. And little Moegi who had been pregnant at the time. In the end though, Naruto had been forced to be cruel.
The boy wavered lightly, then gave.
"We had a healer checked you. I ...well...he said...you won't walk again."
He went cold with dread.
It was the worst possible scenario. His spinal cord had been damaged, possibly several other tendons too if the uncoordinated movements of his upper body were to be considered. Though his own self-healing power was great in its own right, not even someone like Tsunade in her prime days could say with 100 % certainty that she could heal nerve damages. They were too delicate and too complex, he'd come to learn after numerous failed attempts and guilt trips of his own, requiring absolute precision over the overwhelming regenerative power that was his one advantage. His now half-demon body had probably healed incorrectly, like broken bones not set right.
"I'm sorry" The boy whispered softly in an attempt of consolation but he paid him no mind, too busy thinking about something else.
Could he fix this? was the million dollar question. He gulped softly at the chance of success he had. The key to this was his chakra system which was now so heavily overloaded it felt like being suffocated to maintain a perpetually tight rein over it. Never mind rigorous healing procedures, if he so much as made a bunshin now, he'd probably blow himself and the whole continent up. For all intents and purposes, his chakra no matter how large remained unusable and therefore useless to him.
And there in lie the crux of his problem. He was now a veritable flesh sack, able to neither heal nor defend himself. He was fixed in a 2-way tie. If he could move his body he would be able to draw a seal array to tame his berserking chakra. If he could use his chakra he would be able to heal his broken body. But now he was incapable of both. Whether he could recover depended entirely on the people currently harbouring him. Which, eventually meant that he better made nice with them now.
Having made that conclusion in his mind, once again, he turned his attention to the still nameless boy, and, tactically taking advantage of his now female body, beamed a heavy-duty Naruko smile at him.
"That's nice of you. I'll be alright." He watched with some satisfaction as the boy's face blanked out momentarily and the tip of his ears turned an amusing shade of bright plum.
"What's your name?"
"I...I...ah..." Naruto half-expected the boy to say something along the line of 'I forgot' with the clear struggling look on his face. Interesting. Now he knew that his new form must at least pack some decent fire power in order to bring forth this kind of response. Finally, the boy seemed to have succeeded in gathering his wits together.
"I...I'm of the Senju clan. Hashirama is my name."
He couldn't help the widening of his eyes as the meaning of the name zipped through him.
Hashirama? Hashirama Senju? As in the first Kage ever?
He stared hard at the boy, meticulously taking in the warm brown eyes and tanned skin on a face that still held traces of childhood. The hair was much shorter, looking more like a slightly ruffled and banged version of Sai's hair than the long tresses in textbook pictures. The lines of his jaw and nose were softer, lacking that characteristic hard determination that denoted the Shodai Hokage. His body, though tall for a teenager, was yet to come into the impressive 6 feet 8 inches height he was known for. But those would only come in time.
Naruto felt like decking himself over his head. How the hell was it that he didn't notice the resemblances? They had been taught history about the Kages since the beginning of the Academy. He himself had painted snot and dog crap on that face when he was twelve. Was he really that distracted?
This boy sitting beside his bed was a teenage version of the 1st Hokage. Warily, he tested the thought in his head. It seemed strange somehow, seeing the legendary warrior that founded the whole hidden villages system and fought on equal footing with Uchiha Madara and the Kyuubi as a teenage kid who blushed and stuttered in front of women.
The doubts came immediately.
Was it true? Could he be lying? Naruto saw no reason for him to do so. What was the purpose of lying about his identity to an invalid woman? On the other hand though, he had no proof to back that up.
...or did he?
The Shodai Hokage was widely known for his use of Mokuton...and his ability to control tailed-beasts...and Naruto was now one or as close as one could be.
There was only one way to test whether this boy was truly him.
Without warning he shot his one good arm out and gripped at the boy's exposed wrist.
The answer to his question slammed into him with all the force of a half-ton sledgehammer. Immediately, he lost his grip on the now identified Hashirama Senju's arm, panting and coughing heavily from the echo of the contact.
It was cold, ice cold but at the same time scorching hot as it ran through him. The boy's chakra. His body, the body that was reconstructed after his journey through time itself, quaked from the contact, somehow recognizing on an instinctive level the familiar presence of chakra that should not belong to a human. His own demon chakra had beaten a hasty retreat, emptying itself from his coils and leaving him impossibly light and reeling in the sudden imbalance.
Yet at the same time, another part of him had surged out in answer, crowing in sudden jubilation. He had heard of it from Fukasaku but never thought he would ever experience it after the death of Jiraiya, the one single Sage of his time aside from him.
Who would have thought the first's Mokuton ability was tied to his chakra itself and not his DNA. But perhaps he should have thought of it. Out of all the elemental combination, the Mokuton was the single bloodline which had genuinely birthed an entirely new and independent element instead of being just a fusion of the parent elements. It was the only bloodline which had failed to be transferred to direct descendants of the original owner. Out of the sixty babies injected with the DNA, only one was not turned into miniature trees. The Mokuton was undoubtedly one of least understood blood-limit just after the famed Rinnegan.
"What was that?" The voice that intoned this question had lost that light-heart note at the beginning of their conversation. He turned his attention back, reading clearly the smidge of wariness that now tainted the corner of Hashirama Senju's eyes. The air between them suddenly tense and crisp with underlying threats.
He hadn't thought he was going to react so strongly – or more accurately, he didn't think much at all, his mind overwhelmed with one earth-shaking surprise after another in the short span of one day.
Finding out he had survived a battle he had gone to all prepared for sure death. Finding he'd been flung into the past by meddlesome old toads. Waking up to a demon body literally drenched in berserker-mode chakra...with boobs of all things attached. Then finding out he was currently sharing his space with the legend that started the whole world he lived in.
No. He didn't think at all, that he had to admit. He was reduced to merely reacting from his experience alone. Perhaps he could have tested the validity of the boy's identity in a different, much less obvious way but then... what was done was done.
And now...how was he going to fix this situation?
His breath slowed, gradually losing its haggard pace before finally settling down into an even tempo. He studied the young Senju with his eyes.
What was he going to tell him? That his chakra, apparently laced with Senchakra, had simultaneously suppressed Naruto's demon chakra and drawn out the senchakra that was now forever a part of his body. Or Why is it that he could be demon, sage, and human all at the same time?
He didn't think the Senjus would take well to that, or any relatively sane person for that matter. At best, he would be called a liar, at worst, thrown into an asylum... if they had one around here.
So his only option then was to lie.
Slowly so that he would not alarm the boy, he rose his hand up, forefinger pointed inching forward.
"You see..." He began, diving inward to call on his own Senjutsu now no longer tied down by its demonic half, silently revelling in the calming effect of nature's and now his own energy. The tip of his raised finger glowed a pale purple before touching the back of his hand, the amount of Senchakra enough to get a reaction but too small for anything else. Hashirama drew in a sharp breath, obviously recognizing it for what it was. He didn't draw away but simply sat and stared.
"...I didn't think I'd ever meet the one person who has almost the same chakra type as me...so I was just checking."
He studied the young face before him, grinning lightly as the doubt quickly fled only to be replaced by a boyish wonder.
It wasn't truly a lie, more of an omission of truth but it would do. If other people found out, best let them think he was somewhat similar to a Mokuton user instead of what he truly held now.
"I just thought that you would be...you know...older." He meant to say 'taller' but that would make him a hypocrite, and furthermore, whatever his age was, the Shodaime sure looked fresh-faced as a teenager. He completed the effect with an amused smile, adding it out of sheer trickster's instinct.
As expected, the teenage Hashirama stilled all of a sudden, then exploded.
"I'm a man!"
"Of course you are." Naruto agreed demurely, already trying to pull a grin from his face.
"I...I'm seventeen!" He looked a little bit less sure as he said this.
Was he now? The jinchuriki felt his lips widened against his wish. He turned his head to hide his blooming grin a bit too late.
Boys will be boys after all even though they would grow up to become legends. Who would have thought the Shodaime, the famously calm and wise first Hokage, of all people...
There was something reassuring in seeing for his own eyes that even legends were human too.
"Y...you didn't have to act so surprised." Hashirama grumbled in barely disguised embarrassment, trying to regain his composure. Hopefully in the process, he'd pay less mind to what actually happened and accepted Naruto's explanation as fact. He didn't know yet what was the full effect of this connection, that would require more observation, between them but he couldn't very well let it get out that using Senchakra was a sure-fire way to either throw him off course or suppress his chakra now could he?
"So now you know who I am." Said the Senju, instinctively puffing out his chest and straightening himself up, trying to look older, more mature. "But I still don't know you. Who are you?"
The question brought him to an immediate halt, echoing in his mind like the vestiges of a ghost. Not over a week ago, all the people on the continent knew who he was. Blond hair, blue eyes, whisker marks. The two Jinchurikis, him and Bee, weren't likely candidates for subterfuge missions and even less likely to mix in with the crowd given their personality, their fashion sense and their duties at the time. Everyone had known who he was, had raced either for his head or for his assistance against the freely raging Bijus.
Uzumaki Naruto wasn't a name that anybody had to ask...for some years now.
As trivial as it was, somehow, the question seemed to tug at him, make him more...aware wasn't really the right word but he couldn't find any better.
This was not Konoha.
This was not even Suna which he had worked for and defended, or even Kumo where they had rested the last leg of their long journey, or Iwa, or even Kiri. After the years of collaborated effort between the five major villages and the two-front war against Madara and his Bijus and the alliance of the lesser villages, he had come to know the continents like the back of his hand. They had discussed strategy, supply routes, escape tactics over maps, had enforced them in real life. His Kage Bunshins had combed the countries.
This wasn't anywhere he had ever walked or known before.
He was alone in a strange land.
He opened his mouth but no word came through. He meant to give a fake name. It was almost instinct to do so. Something simple. Like 'Shi', or 'Yuu', or even 'Hana' given his female body now. Common, duplicated in the thousands, not at all attention-gathering names. But the name stuck in his throat, unable to get out.
His father had given him this name, taken from the first novel penned by Jiraiya who had, in turn, borrowed the name from one of his student, Nagato. And years later, it was Naruto using his name to get through to Pain, drawing the inevitable connection that looped the generations back to them. And Uzumaki, the only memento left of his mother of whom nothing else had remained. It was to this name, which held both his father, mother, sensei, enemy and perhaps brother-in-mind, that they had christened him Hokage and trusted in him to protect them.
A whole legacy of four generations rested in a single name.
It was funny how such a small and inconsequential thing as a name, the same thing that ninjas readily discarded without a glance for the sake of their missions, could hold so much of a person.
Perhaps it was where he was now. Or perhaps it was the fact that he held nothing to himself in this foreign world, not the clothes he wore, not his body, not his chakra, and definitely not his own mind, under which that darkly amused chuckle still lurked.
"I...have no name." He breathed out a heavy sigh, feeling an unspeakable weight on his chest. The boy's eyes widened in quizzical surprise. "Call me whatever you want."
There was a tense momentary silence between them. The young Hashirama fidgeted, already sensing that he'd broken an unspeakable barrier but not knowing how or why. Finally, he asked.
"Wouldn't you like to eat something?"
Naruto glanced tiredly at the box still sitting beside him. It seemed ungracious to decline but on the other hand...
"I really appreciate this. But...I really don't feel like I can eat right now..." He had no idea whether this body would accept something like human food and he wasn't about to try and find out in front of any one.
"If you would please allow me a bit of peace..."
Yes, some privacy now would be much welcomed. He had a lot to think about, confusion to work through.
Hashirama simply nodded, a look of understanding in his eyes. He got up to his feet and with another good-bye nod left him to his own.
Alone and undisturbed in the room, Naruto thought long and hard about the events that had transpired. He thought of what he should do to take full advantage of his current situation. There wasn't much for him to do now when he couldn't even leave this bed but there was definitely something.
Senju clan. There was not much known to the public about the founder clan of Konoha and even less of their legacy was left intact after the invasion of Pain. The village hidden in the leaves had never truly been rebuilt.
The presence of Hashirama's kekkai genkai could be useful to him. If nothing else he could at least use it to keep his more destructive abilities in check while regaining control of others. He thought of this as he willed his nature-tinged chakra to run and coated the length of his body. Though his control was waning by the minute as youki gradually trickled back into his system, his chakra moved with an ease that he'd only been able to achieve with the aid of seals.
Yes, there was a way out of this.
What he needed now was an opportunity and for that he would have to wait.
Fortunately for Naruto, the wait wasn't very long though it was no less agonizing.
No one came into the room except for the servant woman, again creeping on tip toes around him. She took away the broth – which he had vaporized some off with his chakra to give the expression that he had at least touched it - , changed his soiled clothing and cleaned his body with a wet towel.
The overpowering stench of feces and urine coming from the loin cloth and the stark realization that they were his came like a slap to the face. He probably shouldn't have been surprised yet he was. Spinal cord injuries came with a myriad of complications, one of which was the total loss of all bodily function in the injured areas, including things like bladder control. The patients usually had to wear adult nappies and be carefully supervised.
He had been leaking shits and pisses for days without knowing.
No. He knew it, had supervised the practices many times. Despite the fore-knowledge, the suddenly deeper understanding of what it truly felt like for his patients drove into him like a knife.
He couldn't remember ever feeling so weak before. True, he had seen it all, had treated many of them but....to be put into this position. With Kyuubi by his side, he had never truly had to worry about injuries before. They never stuck. Not a Chidori to his lung. Not a Rashenshuriken in his palms. Not Amaterasu burns. Not Tsukuyomi after-effect. Nothing could keep him down for long. He was the veritable juggernaut...
Being carried in someone's arms, being washed, cleaned, and clothed like a newborn baby.
This new-found experience proved almost unbearable to him.
He persisted. If nothing else, this complete and utter helplessness only fuelled his desire to be healed, to be returned to who he was. Healthy, strong and able.
The chance to do so came sometime during the night, after the woman had taken away his uneaten dinner.
The ruckus began in the corridor outside of his room, sounding of thundering footsteps, panting, and shouted orders. The door slammed opened and a mess of hands, legs and heaving black-clad backs stumbled into the room. A man slunk in through the gap, pulling a wired box in his gloved hands while rapidly shouting orders.
"In! Get him in. Get him on the bed! You! Go get the water."
He moved his head to get a better view.
The tangle of hands, feet and backs turned out to be a group of four men all holding down another man in the middle who was thrashing in the hold for all he was worth. The man – a patient? A clan member? A prisoner? – screamed a choked, pain-filled cry. White foam gathered with sweat, tears, and saliva in clots around the corners of his mouth.
The gloved-hand man, a medic Naruto realized, yelled again as he rummaged through his medical supply.
"Bind his mouth, bind it, you fool! Or he'll bite his tongue off! Where is my water?"
They did as was told, just in time for another person to enter the room.
The expression on Hashirama Senju's face when he laid eyes on the bound man was one of barely suppressed rage and terror. His shoulders quivered as he held himself back with the restraint of a person who knew he could do nothing but wait.
"Strip him" Ordered the medic as he pulled out a whole arsenal of silver testers and generic antidotes.
Naruto's eyes roved over the man's spasmodic body as it was rid of its clothing, meticulously taking in the details.
The man's skin, though riddled with scars and bad burns, was abnormally dry of sweats, his belly distended like prune-color balloon. Water retention?
He eyed the heavily dilated pupils, the excessive amount of drools, and the irregular heart beat. Poisoned? But what type? He could see no new puncture mark on the skin so perhaps a poison that can be swallowed, breathed in, or soaked through the skin membrane.
"Hashirama-sama" The medic said grimly after a full fifteen minutes of futile testing. "Your father..."
And here comes the verdict. Naruto grimaced.
Unlike that of civilians, Ninja's hospitals were generally of an uncomplicated, unfussy procedures. For the medic, it was either a "yes, can cure" or a "no, sorry". Ninjas, after all, tend to not have the luxury of dying because of old-age, or diseases complications.
The medic shook his head, but instead of offering his condolence....
"He'll suffer. The poison is keeping him lucid. It might be better..." And he gave the young Senju, a mere boy yet at the brink of manhood, a meaningful look.
History had told that Hashirama Senju, the first Hokage, had taken over the mantle of leadership at a young age, becoming the Senju clan head after the death of his father. Naruto had thought he was going to heal someone else, a minor ninja, and used it as a bargaining chip to require greater help from the Senjus. He did not plan on changing the course of history so soon, and so unknowingly of its consequences. But as he watched all the life drained from Hashirama's boyish face, he made his split second decision and vowed never to think back.
He sure as hell wasn't going to watch a son order his father's mercy death.
"I can heal him."
The room stilled the moment he said this.
"Wha...what rubbish. A little wench like you." The medic croaked incredulously, shaking his pepper-sprayed hair.
"I can heal him." He said again, loud and clear. "Bring him to me."
Hashirama Senju wavered for a second before... "Do as she said." The four men moved.
"Hashirama-sama, you can't be serious! This...this wretched woman can't possibly.
The young Senju glared at him, a hint of steel in his wood-brown eyes. "Or do you want to kill my father so much, Kenji-san" And that shut the medic up.
"Come here." Naruto called out to the boy. "I'll need your help." He closed his hand around the approaching Hashirama's wrist, welcoming the returning control he'd definitely need. Hashirama, in turn, closed his hand in a firm grasp around his wrist.
"If you lie to me..."
Naruto looked him in the eye, and suddenly he could see how this boy could one day become the man who'd lead the ninja world out of its dark age, who could even instil fear and respect in someone like Madara Uchiha.
"Don't worry. I'll save him." The link of senchakra between them spiked as if sealing the promise before he finally let go.
Naruto turned his attention back to the dying Senju leader. He held out his one good hand above the man now lying beside him before forcibly calling out his retreating youki. With only one arm working, he wouldn't be able to do hand-seals; he'd need the youki prehensile attribute to make up for it.
His hand glowed a pale purple, steadily solidifying as tiny amounts of youki was filtered in. The glow grew in size, fanning out like a halo before fully enveloping the man.
Immediately, the spasm and the drooling stopped. The man was suddenly deadly still, his breath slowed, dragged-out to abnormal length; his heartbeat ceased from its mad tempo.
"Wh...What have you done?" The medic, Kenji, screeched but Naruto paid him no mind. He was too busy trying to figure out what kind of poison was inside the man and if he was going to have to call on his demonic regenerative power to substitute if the needed antidote took too long to brew or required too obscure ingredients.
"You have killed him."
He shot the rambling medic an annoyed glance. He'd forgotten what a joke the medic nins were before the advent of Chiyo of Sand and Tsunade of Leaf, but to not be able to even recognize iryo-jutsu when it was being used...Or did they have medical jutsus at this time at all?
"I'm buying us time. That was a stasis jutsu." He explained, not wanting a hysterical half-baked medic anywhere near his critical-condition patient. "Slowing down his heart rate, breathing, blood stream, his whole biological system. It will take much longer for the poison to take effect."
But something was wrong here. He could find no trace of any alien substance in the man's blood stream. Instead of it...
His face spread into a crooked grin as he realized what was in the man's body.
"How devious. It is not a poison at all."
"What rubbish are you spewing? It is clear as day it is a poison..."
"The name is Trematoda. It's a type of parasitic worms found in fresh-water area. Its natural hosts are snails." He stopped Kenji's on-coming rant before it can begin.
"The larvae enter the host's body through skin contact. They travel through the body's blood stream to enter the stomach. There, they'll hatch...and eat their way out." He gestured at the man's swollen belly.
His listener's faces paled with his explanation.
"You've made one dangerous enemy. If it was poison, there will surely be an antidote..." judging from the look on their faces, they understood without any further explaining. There was no antidote capable of expelling a thousand tiny larvae from the body, and cutting in to hunt them down one by one was no solution.
"You mean...that you can't help." One of the four helpers braved the question no one else was willing to ask.
"I can help." He pulled his hand back. The stasis jutsu stayed firmly in place.
"You're in luck. This type of worms cannot live in an alkali environment. Have him drink lots of beer. My jutsu should slow down the worm's hatching enough for you. His urine will be black. When they turn back to a normal color then he'll be saved."
The four men, nin? Acted as soon as he was finished. The medic followed them out, eyes glazed over.
Naruto was left alone in the room with Hashirama Senju.
"Neither that worm nor its host snail is native to this area." He started. "You may want to look for your enemy in the Land of Water."
"If there's anything I can do for you…" Hashirama murmured softly.
"Don't. You should go with them. The extraction process is painful. We can settle our debts later."
Hashirama gave him a grateful nod then turned and left.
Naruto watched him go, a thousand thoughts crowed his mind. He'd made his first move. Now he was no longer just a useless invalid woman but a possible ally. Hopefully, it will be enough to bargain his way out of his condition and back to full health. With that thought in his head, he drifted to sleep, dearly needing that rest while he did not have to rein in his youki.
Though he didn't know it, but ten years from now, in almost the same area, he'd find out the mistake he'd made. For his decision to save the current Senju leader would in turn nullify the existence of Konohagakure.
Because of him and an act of mercy, ten years from now, the village hidden in the Leaves would never be built.
End chapter 1
I was started into the female Naruto genre by a fic called "Isane" (it was surprisingly well-written). After that, I tried to find more but lo and behold I could not find another decent female Naruto that weren't chockfull of Mary Sue, clichés, and Swiss cheese plot (no offense to the Swiss). So I decided to write one myself. The second reason is Kishimoto sucks at writing female characters. Seriously, you just can't find a kick-ass female character in his story that wouldn't be cut down to size later (coughTsunadecough).
I'm sure all of us have thought of it. What would it be like if Naruto was suddenly a woman. A character like Naruto (fully developed and still IC) in the male-dominated world of Ninjas. The sort of explosions he'd make will be a delight to see.
The part when Naruto found out he had a female body. Usually this is handled as funny or comedic in the fics I've found but I wanted to handle it from a different angle. Seriously if you wake up and find one of your leg has been cut off, I bet you wouldn't find it funny. Please tell me what you think of it. I really try hard (and the emotions are hard to grasp too) but it might just turn out to be 'Narm' or plain 'silly'. Well...I guess I can at least say I tried.
The reason for Naruto's proficiency at healing and why he was turned into a woman...will be revealed in later chapters. Since it is an integrated part of the plot, I can't really say it before hand except that it was because of Sakura that Naruto became a medic nin (she died).
I started out only wanting to write a short story but somehow the idea grew into this monster. This fic will be done in 3 parts: the first one dealing with the Senju (as you have seen in the part title), the second with the Uchiha, and the third one with the building of Konoha (or non-Konoha as the story goes) 10 years later.
The character's ages are: Naruto 26 years old, Hashirama 17 years old, Kenji the medic around 40ish, Hashirama's father nearly 40.
If you can, please write a critic to this story. I'm really looking forward to know what you really think of it.
If there is any grammatical, vocabulary or typo mistake, my apology. Since I'm not a native speaker (or even second-language speaker), my English might be a bit faulty.
P/S: I usually draw concept sketches for my stories. You can find the link in my profile page.