Hiruzen persuaded me to die

In the real world—

Naruto's injuries healed swiftly under the steady stream of Hyuga Naraku's warm, masculine chakra.

In mere moments, the wounds vanished as if they had never been there. His small frame returned to its peaceful, unconscious state.

The surrounding Konoha shinobi finally exhaled a breath they didn't realize they'd been holding.

The Nine Tails Jinchūriki had been subdued—again.

"Lord Naraku, we should place Naruto under stricter surveillance," one shinobi spoke up with a hesitant expression. "This is the second time... we really can't afford another incident."

But Hyuga Naraku's face darkened.

He turned to them and spoke coldly.

"After Sarutobi Hiruzen was impeached, he left the stage in disgrace—many truths were left unsaid."

His gaze swept across the gathered crowd.

"Are you all blind?"

A jolt ran through the shinobi like a current of cold water.

Naraku pointed toward Naruto. "Before anything else, he is Uzumaki Naruto. Only after that is he a Jinchūriki."

"And look at him! Look closely! Can't you see whose child he is?!"

Silence.

The group looked at each other, confused.

In truth, few of them had ever thought deeply about the origin of a Jinchūriki.

Many of the villagers—and even some shinobi—barely understood what a Jinchūriki was, let alone Naruto's personal identity.

But now, with the boy lying before them, the pieces began to fall into place.

Someone glanced up at the Hokage Rock.

The statue of the Fourth Hokage—Namikaze Minato, the Yellow Flash—stood tall and proud.

Blond hair.

Blue eyes.

The same bright turquoise eyes… the same golden hair.

"No way…" someone whispered, throat dry. "Is he really...?"

Someone else muttered hoarsely, "Is Naruto the son of the Fourth Hokage?"

Minato was Hokage for only a short time.

He died young—just twenty-four.

And at the time, Uzumaki Kushina's pregnancy had been kept a tightly guarded secret. After all, a pregnant Jinchūriki was a major vulnerability.

No one had connected the dots.

No one had dared.

But now…

Now they realized.

They had tormented, hated, and abandoned the son of the hero who saved them all.

The silence broke.

"What have we done…?" a shinobi muttered as his knees buckled.

One by one, others followed—falling to their knees, their eyes stinging with tears.

Some of them had fought under Minato during the war. Some owed him their lives.

And yet... when his son needed them most, they turned their backs.

"Damn it! Why didn't Hiruzen say anything?!" someone cried in anguish.

Another voice joined, trembling with anger, "Why didn't he tell us Naruto was Minato's son?! Why spread rumors that he was a demon fox?!"

Hyuga Naraku didn't blink. His voice was like steel.

"Because Sarutobi Hiruzen chose to. He not only hid Naruto's heritage—he let the village believe a lie."

"But that does not absolve the rest of you."

"Did none of you ever wonder why the boy looked just like the Fourth Hokage? Did none of you question the timing of his birth?"

Guilt hung over them like a thick fog.

Even those who hadn't directly harmed Naruto lowered their heads. Their silence, their inaction, made them complicit.

"We… we're sorry, Naruto."

The words came, hoarse and trembling.

"We failed you. We failed Minato-sama."

Some of them spoke his name for the first time—Naruto.

Not "demon," not "fox brat"—but Naruto.

Even among the clans, some had known more than they let on. The Nara, the Aburame, the Yamanaka…

Nara Shikaku had once wondered aloud why Naruto was treated so poorly, but even he chose silence.

Even he did nothing.

Naruto stirred.

The boy had just returned from the depths of his own consciousness—where he had met his father, Namikaze Minato.

His eyes blinked open.

What greeted him was… strange.

Dozens of shinobi knelt around him.

Some had tears in their eyes.

Others couldn't even meet his gaze.

"We're sorry, Naruto…"

"We were wrong…"

The boy sat up slowly, dazed and confused.

He didn't feel joy.

He didn't feel forgiveness.

He just felt… hollow.

His small hand reached out instinctively—and gripped Hyuga Naraku's sleeve.

He remembered his father's words in the dream.

"That man with the white eyes… you can trust him."

And Jiraiya—the white-haired pervy uncle. His dad had said he could be trusted too.

Naraku looked down, a hint of softness in his stern eyes.

Then turned to Jiraiya.

"Jiraiya-senpai… I'll leave Naruto in your care."

Jiraiya's expression twisted. "Me? Take care of him? But I'm—!"

He caught himself.

He remembered Minato's laugh. Kushina's smile.

This boy was their legacy.

Their son.

"I'll do it," he said softly, almost like a vow. "I'll look after him."

He ruffled Naruto's hair, even as the boy clung tighter to Naraku.

In the distance, the statue of the Fourth Hokage stood bathed in sunlight.

No longer just a face of history.

But the father of a child who had lived unloved.

A child who now—at last—was seen.

To be continued…