Chapter Text
He missed Konoha.
Training with Jiraiya was great. It was fun and good, and he learned new things every day. Once the old man had figured out his chakra nature and how to direct it, he learned new techniques that would help him survive. Things that would help him protect the people he considered family.
Stuff that would protect his friends.
Naruto adjusted his bag, lifted his head as they made their way into the next village. It was built in the remains of an old village, one that had fallen in a war. Jiraiya had promised it was important, had made sure Naruto knew they were there for a reason. The gates they passed were worn, but stood strong, a remnant of what had come before. Naruto smiled when he heard people chattering just beyond, living their lives despite everything that had happened here. Despite the war and the destruction, life had continued.
Some of them were even survivors of the original village, Jiraiya had told him. Some of them were waiting to meet them.
“Jiji-san,” he turned, looking for his teacher, pausing when he saw him talking to someone.
There was a girl standing there.
She looked a little older than Naruto, her hands clasped behind her back. When Naruto stepped closer, she turned to look. Her eyes lit up, bright and excited.
“Uzumaki Naruto?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Naruto nodded, bowing his head.
She stepped closer to him, her hands moving until they were clasped together in front of her, and bowed her head in return. “Uzumaki Akari. It’s great to meet you!”
“You’re—” Naruto stared at her, his throat suddenly closing up around the tightness that meant he was going to cry. His hands were white-knuckled on the straps of his bag, shaking from how tightly he held onto it. She was related to him – she was a family member. He wasn’t the only one left.
There was someone out there who shared blood with him.
He’d known that. Jiraiya had told him that, had explained there were cousins somewhere. He’d mentioned that there was someone from a village, recovering from a war, but Naruto hadn’t put the pieces together. Hadn’t made the connection that they were going there. Akari watched as he processed, watched as he stared at her with wide eyes and shuddering breaths. She didn’t move towards him, or away. She just stood there, waiting patiently.
“You’re related to his mom,” Jiraiya spoke quietly. “So I think that’s a little shocking for him,” he put a hand on Naruto’s shoulder, squeezing for a moment. “One of the last. One of the few letters I got a quick answer to.”
“You knew my dad,” Akari smiled. “He’d told me about you – he said you were good, even if you were perverted. When he passed away…” her eyes darkened for a moment, but she shook it off quickly. “He told me that family was important and there was a chance his cousin was still alive, out there, so I needed to answer if she ever found me. Uzumaki Kushina could not,” she turned her smile back to Naruto, her eyes watery. “But her son did.”
With both hands, Akari reached out.
There was no hesitation as she took Naruto’s hands in her own, squeezing gently. “I’m so glad you’re alive,” Akari whispered. She pulled him into a hug, her arms thrown around his neck and shoulders. “Thank you for coming.”
Naruto put his arms, still shaking, around her and held on tight.
He could count on one hand the number of people who had willingly touched him before he’d made the few friends he could talk to as a kid. The number of people who had hugged him before Iruka-sensei had gotten involved. The number of people who had been happy to see him before his teammates, Kakashi-sensei, and all the people he considered friends and family. Akari was warm and steady in affection, the way he thought his mom might have been from the photos Jiraiya had given him of her.
Burying his face in her shoulder, Naruto did his best not to start crying.
“Oh,” Akari’s voice softened, her hand going to the back of his head. “Oh, it’s okay. It’s okay, little cousin.” She hugged him a little closer, shushing softly. “I’ve got places set for dinner, if the two of you would like to join me. It’s not much, but you’re welcome to it.”
“I think that would be good for him,” Jiraiya’s voice was a quiet noise above his head as Naruto held onto a thread of something he’d lost.
Akari, it turned out, was seventeen.
Her dad had been a shopkeeper, running a fairly successful bookshop. She’d taken up the job once he’d passed away and kept it going, much to the surprise and happiness of her neighbors and fellow villagers. They kept an eye on her and helped when things got rough or when something was a little harder than expected. The small family house had a few bedrooms and a single floor, but it was warm and comfortable.
Naruto loved it.
The wood was a soft color, and the lights were golden, so it felt much bigger than it was. The hall felt almost endless as Akari gave them a quick tour, ending in the dining area. The table was a little worn at the edges, but it was still nice.
Akari had them sit before she darted away to grab something, hurrying back to sit down next to Naruto with a couple of picture frames. “They were damaged,” she explained, apologetic. “But my dad got them out of the destruction.” She showed them to him, smiling when he traced his fingers over the images kept behind glass, carefully preserved and contained.
A child version of his mom, grinning wide and missing a tooth, stood next to a boy about the same age. “That’s my mom,” Naruto whispered.
“And my dad,” Akari nodded. “His name was Uzumaki Yuto. He was a few years older than her. Apparently, they were close when they were kids.” She pulled out the next frame, tapping it. “There’s them and another cousin. I don’t remember her name, but I know she had a daughter. I don’t know where her daughter is now.”
Naruto pulled the photos Jiraiya had given him out of his pouch, spreading them out on the table, showing them off.
Akari stared at them, her eyes watering again as she took them in. She did the same thing he had done, the same careful tracing of the images, the same cautious touch. She glanced up at him when she got to the wedding photo, gesturing wordlessly at the small bump of his mom’s stomach. When he nodded, she nearly sobbed, nodding in return.
Jiraiya watched the two of them, a small smile on his face.
Eventually, Akari got up and started working on making dinner, Naruto following her to help. Jiraiya kept them both entertained with stories of watching Uzumaki Kushina be romanced by Namikaze Minato – and how many times he had failed to impress her. Or the time he’d nearly been killed by her because he’d pissed her off.
Naruto had heard most of the stories before, but Akari hadn’t. She laughed at them, her eyes bright, and it seemed to heal something in her.
In the end, they stayed in Uzushiogakure, the newly rebuilt village, for three weeks.
They stayed close to Akari, to help and tell stories. To learn about what their lives had been like growing up.
They left with food and supplies, as well as a way for Akari to send letters for Naruto across most of the villages they had been to. For the ones they planned to return to, at any rate – the ones where he had friends. With an address for her in hand, Naruto was happy.
He could send letters to his cousin now.
Jiraiya laughed at the way he practically hopped, going back through the gate. “Excited, huh?”
“That was good,” Naruto whispered. “That was – that was great!” He looked up at Jiraiya, his hands curled around the straps of his bag again. “Do I have others that you know about?”
“A couple,” Jiraiya nodded. “A few we might not get to meet.”
Naruto frowned, looking up at him. “Why not?”
“There are some things in motion, kid,” Jiraiya sighed. “Some actions that can’t be changed, and some choices that were made. I’ve been doing research since we’ve been out here, and I’ve been contacting people I know. I’ve been searching through records and doing my best to find those you’re related to just to give you something – and some of those people are not ones you should have contact with.” He closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he kept walking. “I’ve found a few stories that even I won’t share.”
Not everyone was like Akari, then. Not every surviving family member was a good person.
Not every person was on their side.
Studying him, Naruto nodded. “Then we find the ones we can,” he straightened up, lifting his head. “We find the ones who are on our side.”
“That’s the spirit,” Jiraiya grinned.
They kept going, talking occasionally as they walked to the next village. Jiraiya told him more about the few members of the Uzumaki clan he knew about, the few Naruto’s mom had told him about before she’d passed away. With the anticipation of the letters he’d sent out being answered, Jiraiya had started to open up more, more and more stories spilling out. Naruto enjoyed hearing them, all of them feeling like a star in the night sky that he could look up and watch.
They twinkled in his mind, even during the day. They gave him something to look for. Something to look forward to.
Every time he traded Jiraiya a story for a story, told the old man what his life had been like, there was something dark in his expression. Something angry and quiet, something he refused to explain when Naruto asked. Even the best parts, like old man Teuchi and his ramen stand, had Jiraiya scowling and nodding. The two of them walked and told stories, listening to each other and moving along. When they settled in for a rest, Jiraiya would pull out scrolls and papers and have Naruto go over lessons and jutsu, memorizing and practicing until his mind reeled.
Some of it was familiar writing, Iruka-sensei’s hand marking everything he could see, a way to keep him up on his lessons after the failed Chuunin exams. It made his heart clench and his hands shake.
He missed Konoha more than he could ever explain, sometimes.
When that feeling got too big, he would bug Jiraiya into teaching him something bigger – distracting himself from missing home felt like the best move. He needed to be stronger, needed to be stable, needed to be safe and powerful. If he was in danger, then so was everyone he cared about.
Rasengan was easy, now. He’d figured out how to add to it, too, to create something more. Different, powerful, and bigger.
Naruto had nearly choked when Jiraiya had told him who had created the jutsu in the first place. Working with it felt like his dad stood next to him, sometimes, his hands on Naruto’s shoulders, keeping him upright even when he felt exhausted. His dad had been the fourth Hokage, he’d been powerful and brave and strong, and he’d refused to do anything but protect the people of his village. Even when faced with an impossible choice, he had done what he could.
He was willing to pay the price, Naruto thought, his hand drifting to his stomach. If it kept everyone safe, he would always pay the price.
With the stories and the jutsu and everything, he had pieces of a family he’d never met. With Akari’s stories and the photos she’d shown him, he had more than he’d ever had before. Naruto looked up at the stars above them as he settled in for the night, tucking himself deeper into his bedroll, taking a deep breath as he curled up.
He could do this. He could protect his people.
The family he had now wasn’t all his blood family, but he had to keep them safe and protected all the same.