What if naruto was neglected son of beerus and kushina

The air crackled with power. Purple energy danced across the night sky, casting eerie shadows over the ancient forest. Trees swayed and bent as if bowing to an unseen force, their leaves rustling in a wind that seemed to emanate from nowhere and everywhere at once.

Beerus, God of Destruction, hovered thirty feet above the forest floor, his slender feline form silhouetted against the moon. His ears twitched in irritation, golden eyes narrowed to slits as he surveyed the primitive world below.

"How utterly disappointing," he muttered, tail lashing behind him. "Whis said this 'chakra' might be worth investigating. What a waste of my time."

He lifted a clawed finger, a sphere of destruction energy forming at its tip. The purple light bathed his face in an otherworldly glow, highlighting his angular features and the permanent scowl etched across his face.

"Perhaps I should just destroy this entire region and go back to sleep."

A sudden explosion of energy below caught his attention. Beerus cocked his head, ears perking up in curiosity. Something was happening in the clearing ahead—something violent and chaotic. Against his better judgment, he drifted closer.

Kushina Uzumaki stood in the center of the devastation, her long red hair whipping around her like living flame. Bodies of rogue ninjas lay scattered across the clearing, some moaning in pain, others eerily still. Her breath came in sharp gasps, blood—both hers and others'—spattered across her jonin vest.

"Anyone else?" she challenged, voice ringing through the clearing. The chains of her chakra rippled around her, glowing with power. "I've got all night, you cowards!"

From the shadows, three more attackers lunged. Kushina's hands flashed through signs at blinding speed, her chains lashing out with deadly precision. The first attacker caught a chain through his shoulder, the second across his throat. But the third slipped past her defenses, kunai aimed for her heart.

Before the blade could connect, a purple flash lit up the night. The attacker froze mid-strike, then crumbled to dust before Kushina's eyes.

"What the" Kushina's chains retracted as she spun around, kunai already in hand.

Beerus stood at the edge of the clearing, examining the dust that had once been a human with mild interest. He flicked his wrist, sending the remaining particles scattering to the wind.

"Fascinating. You mortals are so fragile, yet you fight with such enthusiasm." He looked up, meeting Kushina's wide-eyed stare with an appraising gaze. "You, however, are different from the others on this backwater planet."

Kushina shifted into a defensive stance. "Who—what are you?"

Beerus smiled, revealing sharp canines. "I am Beerus, God of Destruction." He vanished and reappeared beside her in an instant, circling her slowly. "And you possess the most interesting energy signature I've encountered in centuries."

Kushina didn't flinch as he invaded her personal space. Instead, she raised her chin defiantly. "Never heard of you. And I don't care what kind of god you claim to be—get any closer and you'll regret it."

Beerus's ears flattened against his head, but his smile only widened. "Such spirit. Such fire." He inhaled deeply. "Your chakra it smells like the universe before creation. Raw. Potent. Extraordinary."

"Thanks for the help, but I had it handled," Kushina said, refusing to be intimidated. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to my village."

As she turned to leave, Beerus materialized in front of her. "You interest me, human. That doesn't happen often."

Kushina's chains erupted from her back, encircling them both in a golden cage. "And you're starting to annoy me, cat-man. That happens all too frequently."

Instead of anger, Beerus's response was a deep, rumbling laugh. "I could destroy your entire world with a flick of my finger. Doesn't that frighten you?"

Kushina's violet eyes flashed. "I've faced the edge of death more times than I can count. Fear isn't in my vocabulary, dattebane!"

The verbal tic slipped out in her agitation, and she clamped her mouth shut, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. Beerus's eyes widened slightly, then he threw his head back in genuine laughter.

"Dattebane? What an unusual little mortal you are."

Their first encounter stretched into more. Beerus, intrigued by the fiery kunoichi with the unusual chakra, lingered in the shinobi world far longer than he'd intended. Whis had given him that knowing look before departing, promising to return in a month's time.

"Just don't destroy this world while I'm away, Lord Beerus. The Supreme Kai would be most displeased."

Beerus had waved him off with a noncommittal grunt.

Now, three weeks later, he lounged in the branches of an ancient oak outside Konoha's borders, waiting for Kushina to appear for their clandestine meeting. She'd been resistant at first, suspicious of his claims and wary of his power. But curiosity eventually won out—on both sides.

A rustle of leaves announced her arrival. Kushina leapt onto the branch beside him, her hair tied back in a high ponytail, civilian clothes replacing her usual ninja gear.

"You're late," Beerus remarked, not opening his eyes.

"Some of us have responsibilities, you know." She settled beside him, legs dangling over the edge. "Can't all be lazy cat gods who nap all day."

Beerus cracked one eye open. "I'll have you know I'm due for another seventy-year nap soon. I'm practically busy by comparison."

Kushina snorted, pulling an apple from her bag and tossing it to him. He caught it one-handed, examining the fruit with disdain before taking a bite.

"Acceptable," he declared after chewing thoughtfully. "Though not as good as the ramen you brought last time."

"Nothing's as good as ramen," Kushina replied with absolute conviction. "That's just a fact of the universe."

Beerus smiled despite himself. "There are delicacies across countless galaxies that would prove you wrong, Kushina Uzumaki."

Her eyes lit up at that. "You'll have to show me sometime."

The words hung between them, laden with implications neither was ready to address. Beerus took another bite of the apple, buying time.

"Perhaps," he said finally. "Though mortals generally don't fare well in the realm of gods."

Kushina leaned back against the trunk, studying him. "Are there others like you?"

"Gods of Destruction? One for each universe. Twelve in total." He tossed the apple core away. "I'm responsible for Universe 7—which includes this insignificant little planet."

"And what exactly does a 'God of Destruction' do? Besides the obvious."

Beerus stretched, catlike. "Balance. Creation cannot exist without destruction. The Supreme Kais create, I destroy. It maintains the cosmic order."

"Sounds lonely," Kushina observed.

The comment caught him off guard. Beerus glanced at her sharply, but found no pity in her gaze—only understanding. Something uncomfortable twisted in his chest.

"I sleep most of the time," he said dismissively. "Hard to be lonely when you're unconscious."

Kushina's laugh cut through his defenses. "That's the most pathetic excuse I've ever heard! Even for a god, that's sad, dattebane!"

Before Beerus could muster his indignation, she leaned over and—with a boldness that left him momentarily stunned—flicked his nose.

"What you need," she declared, "is to lighten up a little."

No mortal had dared touch him so casually in millennia. He should have been furious. He should have reduced her to atoms for her insolence.

Instead, Beerus found himself laughing.

The affair was as intense as it was brief. Like a supernova, it burned too bright to sustain itself. Kushina, with her boundless energy and fierce independence, challenged the God of Destruction in ways no being had dared for eons. And Beerus, cynical and jaded from countless millennia of existence, found himself captivated by her unapologetic zest for life.

For six weeks, they existed in their own private universe. Beerus showed her cosmic wonders visible only from the upper atmosphere, holding a protective energy field around her as they hovered above the curve of the earth. Kushina taught him the simple pleasures of the mortal world—the perfect bowl of ramen, the satisfaction of skipping stones across a still lake, the peace found in watching fireflies dance at twilight.

But reality could not be held at bay forever. The day of Whis's return loomed like a shadow over their time together.

"Come with me," Beerus said on their final night, the words escaping before he could reconsider.

They lay on a cliffside overlooking the ocean, the stars reflected in the water below, creating the illusion of floating in space. Kushina's head rested on his chest, her hair spilling across him like liquid fire.

"You know I can't," she answered softly. "My life is here. My duty is to Konoha."

"I could take you to worlds you can't even imagine," he pressed, a rare note of urgency in his voice. "You could live for centuries at my side."

Kushina sat up, her violet eyes reflecting the starlight. "And what happens when I grow old? When this body fails me, as all mortal bodies do? Would you still want me then, Beerus?"

The God of Destruction fell silent. They both knew the answer.

"I'm not meant for your world," she continued gently. "And you're not meant for mine. We've stolen this time together, but we always knew it had an expiration date."

Beerus turned away, his pride unable to bear the truth in her words. When he spoke again, his voice had regained its usual edge.

"Very well. It matters little to me either way."

Kushina smiled sadly, seeing through his indifference. "You're a terrible liar for a god."

She leaned down and kissed him one last time—a kiss that held all the fire and passion that defined her. When they parted, she pressed her forehead to his.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For showing me the stars."

In the morning, he was gone. Kushina stood at their meeting place alone, watching the sunrise. She placed a hand over her abdomen, where an impossible spark of energy had begun to form—too faint yet for even a god to detect, but unmistakable to her heightened senses.

"Goodbye, God of Destruction," she murmured to the empty clearing.

Five years passed. Kushina had moved forward with her life, though the memory of those stolen weeks with the cat-like deity never fully faded. She found love again—more grounded, more sustainable—with Minato Namikaze, Konoha's Yellow Flash and future Fourth Hokage.

When she discovered her pregnancy, Kushina kept the truth buried deep. As far as the village knew—as far as Minato knew—the child she carried was his. The timing worked well enough to avoid suspicion, and Minato's joy at the prospect of fatherhood was too pure for her to shatter with the truth.

But as her due date approached, Kushina grew increasingly anxious. The energy within her womb was unlike anything she'd felt before—a fusion of her own powerful chakra and something else, something ancient and destructive. During her final trimester, she'd taken to meditation to suppress these energy flares, fearing they might somehow alert Beerus to his offspring.

The night of October 10th arrived with a blood-red moon hanging low in the sky. Kushina lay on the specially prepared altar, seal weakening as she struggled through labor. Minato hovered nearby, his face etched with concern as he worked to maintain the Nine-Tails' seal.

"You're doing great," he encouraged, wiping sweat from her brow. "Just a little longer."

Kushina nodded through gritted teeth, another contraction wracking her body. Something felt wrong—dangerously wrong. The Nine-Tails was growing more agitated with each passing moment, its chakra roiling against the weakened seal.

"Minato," she gasped, "the seal—it's not just weakening because of the birth. Something's interfering."

The energy signature of her unborn child had spiked dramatically, creating a strange resonance with the Nine-Tails' chakra. The fox demon thrashed within its prison, drawn to the unfamiliar power like a moth to flame.

The midwife's voice rang out: "I can see the head! Push, Kushina!"

With one final, agonizing effort, Kushina brought her son into the world. His first cry split the air—not the wail of a typical newborn, but a sound that carried power, that made the very molecules of the air vibrate in response.

"Naruto," Kushina whispered, reaching for him with trembling hands.

But before Minato could place the infant in her arms, chaos erupted. A masked man appeared, killing the midwives in an instant and snatching the newborn. What followed was a nightmare that would haunt Konoha for generations—the Nine-Tails, freed from its seal and unleashed upon the village.

Through sheer force of will, Kushina survived the extraction that should have killed her. Perhaps it was her Uzumaki vitality, or perhaps the lingering touch of divine energy that had altered her own life force during her time with Beerus. Whatever the reason, she clung to life, desperate to reach her son.

The battle that ensued would be recorded in Konoha's history books, though none would know the full truth. Minato Namikaze, believing he was fighting for his own child, made the ultimate sacrifice. Using the Dead Demon Consuming Seal, he sealed the Nine-Tails within the infant Naruto, splitting its chakra and taking the Yin half to the grave with him.

As life faded from his eyes, Minato looked to Kushina, who had dragged herself to their side despite her grievous injuries.

"Make sure he knows how much we loved him," he gasped. "How proud we are"

Kushina clutched his hand, tears streaming down her face. The lie of omission had never felt heavier.

"I will," she promised. "I'll tell him everything." But even as she spoke the words, she knew it was a vow she might not be able to keep.

The aftermath was a haze of grief and chaos. The village elders moved quickly to classify everything about that night, swearing those who knew of Naruto's status as jinchūriki to secrecy. Kushina, still recovering from her near-death experience, found herself faced with an impossible dilemma.

The infant Naruto, with his shock of blonde hair and whisker-marked cheeks, bore little physical resemblance to his true father. But as she held him in the sterile hospital room, Kushina could feel it—the unmistakable pulse of destructive energy interwoven with his developing chakra network. Energy that did not belong in a human child. Energy that reminded her too much of those six weeks with a deity who could obliterate worlds with a flick of his wrist.

Every time Naruto cried, lightbulbs shattered. When he laughed, the air around him warped slightly, as if reality itself responded to his emotions. The medical ninja attributed these phenomena to the Nine-Tails' influence, but Kushina knew better.

Her son was a ticking time bomb—part human, part god, part demon fox.

As the weeks passed, Kushina made a decision that broke her heart. For the safety of the village, for the safety of Naruto himself, she would maintain distance. She arranged for him to have his own apartment once he was old enough, with ANBU watchers assigned in shifts. She would ensure he had financial support and basic necessities, but the motherly love, the close bond she'd dreamed of—those she couldn't risk.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to the sleeping infant on her final night with him. "I'm so sorry, Naruto. But one day, you'll understand why it had to be this way."

She pressed a kiss to his forehead, inhaling his scent one last time, then turned away before her resolve could crumble.

Twelve years passed in the blink of an eye. Kushina watched from afar as her son grew, her heart breaking a little more each time the village shunned him—first for the demon they believed he contained, and later for the strange incidents that occurred around him. Windows that exploded when he was angry. Training dummies that disintegrated when he pushed himself too hard. The weird purple glow that sometimes surrounded him during moments of extreme emotion.

The Third Hokage did what he could to protect the boy, as did a handful of others—Iruka Umino, who saw past the villagers' fear to the lonely child beneath; Teuchi and Ayame at Ichiraku Ramen, who offered him the simple kindness of a hot meal and a smile.

But it wasn't enough. Naruto grew up starved for affection, for acknowledgment, for any scrap of attention he could get—even if it meant painting graffiti across the Hokage Monument or setting off stink bombs in the administrative offices.

On his twelfth birthday, Kushina stood on a rooftop across from his apartment, watching as he blew out a candle on a cupcake he'd bought for himself. The sight nearly broke her.

"You should go to him," a voice said behind her.

Kushina didn't turn. "I can't, Lord Third. You know why."

Hiruzen Sarutobi stepped up beside her, his aged face solemn in the moonlight. "He needs his mother, Kushina."

"What he needs is control," she replied bitterly. "His power grows stronger every year. I can feel it from here—that energy signature. It's" She shuddered. "It's his."

The Third Hokage sighed heavily. "Naruto believes he's alone in this world. Whatever power he inherited from his true father, whatever danger it might pose—is that really worse than the pain of abandonment?"

Kushina's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You don't understand. Beerus isn't just powerful—he's a force of cosmic destruction. If Naruto fully manifests those abilities if Beerus ever discovers his existence"

"Then we'll face that when it comes," Hiruzen said gently. "But for now, he's just a boy. A lonely, hurting boy who doesn't understand why his own mother wants nothing to do with him."

Across the street, Naruto extinguished the candle and opened his window. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, his gaze seemed to find Kushina's hiding place. Then he turned away, disappearing into the shadows of his empty apartment.

"He's safer this way," Kushina whispered, though the words rang hollow even to her own ears. "Safer from himself. Safer from his father. Safer from me and the choices I've made."

She turned and walked away, missing the moment when a shooting star streaked across the sky above Konoha—a phenomenon that hadn't been witnessed in the village for twelve years and one day, not since the night a god had departed for the stars, unaware of the legacy he'd left behind.

In his small apartment, Naruto Uzumaki—son of the God of Destruction and the Red Hot-Blooded Habanero, vessel of the Nine-Tailed Fox, and heir to powers beyond mortal comprehension—curled up on his bed and dreamed of a family he'd never known.

And somewhere in the vast cosmos, Beerus turned restlessly in his sleep, disturbed by dreams of violet eyes and crimson hair, and a strange, persistent feeling that he'd forgotten something important.

The kunai embedded itself in the wooden target with a dull thunk—three inches away from the bullseye. Again.

"Come on!" Naruto growled, snatching another blade from his pouch. The metal felt cold and uncooperative in his sweaty palm. Sunlight glinted off the weapon as he raised it, narrowing his eyes at the target. Twenty feet away. Child's play for most Academy students.

But Naruto Uzumaki wasn't most Academy students.

He hurled the kunai with all his might, his face scrunched in concentration. This time, the blade veered wildly to the left, missing the target entirely and disappearing into the underbrush with a rustle of leaves.

"Dammit!" Naruto kicked the dirt, sending a cloud of dust billowing around his sandals. The training ground was empty save for him—exactly as he preferred it these days. No snickering classmates. No disappointed instructors. No pitying looks that made his skin crawl.

The sun hung low in the western sky, painting Konoha in hues of gold and amber. He should head back soon. But the thought of returning to his empty apartment, with its cupboards full of instant ramen and its walls that never answered back, made his chest ache with a familiar hollowness.

One more try. He could get this.

Naruto closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and attempted to channel his chakra the way Iruka-sensei had taught them. Focus. Center. Direct the energy to strengthen the throw, to guide the kunai. Simple, in theory.

But the moment he reached for his chakra, something else stirred within him—something wild and electric that had nothing to do with the warm, flowing energy his classmates described. This was different. Volatile. It bubbled beneath his skin like lightning in a bottle, fighting against his control.

The air around his hand shimmered with a faint purple glow.

"No, not again," he muttered, trying to suppress the strange power. "Come on, normal chakra, normal"

The purple energy intensified, dancing along his fingertips like static electricity. The kunai in his hand began to vibrate, humming with a sound that made his teeth ache. With a frustrated shout, Naruto hurled the weapon.

The kunai erupted in a flash of violet light. When the glare faded, Naruto gaped at the training post. Not only had he hit the bullseye—the kunai had pierced clean through the wooden target, embedding itself deep in the tree behind it. Wisps of purple energy crackled around the blade before fizzling out.

Naruto stared at his hand in disbelief. The strange power had already receded, leaving no trace except for a tingling sensation in his fingertips.

"What's wrong with me?" he whispered.

From the shadow of a nearby oak, Kushina Uzumaki watched her son with a mixture of heartache and dread. The flash of violet energy had been visible even from her hiding spot—a brilliant flare of destruction chakra that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

It's getting stronger, she thought, her nails digging into the rough bark. Just like he said it would.

Memories of Beerus surfaced unbidden—his casual displays of world-ending power, the way reality itself seemed to bend in his presence. She remembered his warning, spoken during one of their last nights together: "Gods of Destruction are not meant to procreate with mortals. The energies are incompatible."

She'd dismissed it then. Now, watching purple lightning dance around her twelve-year-old son, Kushina felt the weight of her choices like a stone in her chest.

Naruto retrieved his kunai, examining the charred metal with furrowed brows. Even from this distance, Kushina could see the confusion and frustration etched across his features—features that, despite the blonde hair and whisker marks, sometimes revealed flashes of his true father. The set of his jaw when he was determined. The particular way his eyes narrowed when concentrating.

She watched him try again, struggling visibly to suppress the destructive energy. This time, the kunai flew normally, missing the target by inches. Naruto's shoulders slumped, but Kushina felt a flicker of relief. At least he was learning to control it, however unconsciously.

As the sun dipped lower, Naruto finally gathered his scattered weapons and trudged toward the village, his orange jumpsuit a bright spot in the deepening shadows. Kushina stepped deeper into the trees, ensuring he wouldn't spot her. When he was gone, she approached the training post, running her fingers over the hole his empowered kunai had created.

The edges were smooth, as if the wood had been vaporized rather than splintered.

Just like Beerus's destruction energy.

A twig snapped behind her. Kushina whirled, a kunai appearing in her hand instantly.

"Still as sharp as ever, I see," Hiruzen Sarutobi remarked, emerging from the foliage. The Third Hokage's weathered face was unreadable in the dusk light. "Though I'd appreciate if you didn't throw that at me."

Kushina lowered her weapon. "Old habits."

"Indeed." Hiruzen ran a gnarled finger along the damaged training post. "The boy is getting stronger."

"Too strong," Kushina whispered. "And he can't control it."

The Hokage sighed, his breath visible in the cooling evening air. "There are other options besides avoidance, Kushina. He deserves to know who he is."

"And what exactly should I tell him?" Her voice cracked with barely suppressed emotion. "That his father is an ancient cat-deity who could destroy our entire planet on a whim? That I've been alive all these years but chose to stay away? That the weird power inside him isn't the Nine-Tails but something potentially far more dangerous?"

"The truth is rarely comfortable," Hiruzen replied evenly, "but secrets have a way of revealing themselves at the worst possible moments."

Kushina turned away, her crimson hair catching the last rays of sunlight. "I'll tell him. Eventually. When he's ready."

When I'm ready, she didn't say.

The Academy classroom buzzed with pre-lesson chaos. Paper airplanes zipped through the air, a group of girls clustered around Sasuke Uchiha's desk, and Shikamaru Nara dozed with his head propped on one hand, somehow sleeping through the cacophony.

Naruto slipped into his seat at the back, unnoticed by most. He preferred it that way. Being invisible was better than being the center of attention for all the wrong reasons.

"Alright, settle down!" Iruka-sensei's voice cut through the noise. The scar across his nose crinkled as he frowned at the class. "Today we're reviewing the Transformation Jutsu. Everyone line up at the front."

Groans rippled through the room, but students began shuffling toward the front desk. Naruto's stomach twisted into a knot. Not this again. He'd practiced for hours yesterday, but the strange purple energy had interfered every time he tried to mold his chakra properly.

One by one, his classmates performed the jutsu. Sasuke transformed into a perfect replica of Iruka, earning approving nods. Sakura followed suit, her transformation equally flawless. Even Shikamaru, despite muttering "what a drag," executed the technique with minimal effort.

Then it was Naruto's turn.

He stepped forward, hyperaware of the eyes boring into his back. The classroom had fallen eerily quiet. Even Kiba, who usually couldn't shut up, watched with wary anticipation.

"Whenever you're ready, Naruto," Iruka said encouragingly.

Naruto formed the hand seal, his fingers trembling slightly. Please work normally. Please work normally.

"Transform!" he shouted, channeling his chakra.

For a split second, it seemed to work. Smoke engulfed him, the familiar sensation of the jutsu taking hold. But then came the sickening lurch as the other energy—the purple one—surged through his system like an electric current.

The smoke turned violet. The air crackled. A wave of pressure radiated outward, rattling the windows and sending papers flying off desks.

When the smoke cleared, Naruto stood unchanged, except for his eyes—which glowed an eerie purple for several heartbeats before fading back to blue.

Silence blanketed the room, heavy and uncomfortable. Then someone snickered, triggering a wave of laughter.

"Nice light show, freak," Kiba called out.

"Maybe if you spent less time playing with weird chakra and more time studying, you wouldn't suck so much," another boy added.

Heat rushed to Naruto's face. He could feel the destructive energy bubbling just beneath his skin, responding to his humiliation and anger. His fingertips tingled alarmingly.

"That's enough!" Iruka's sharp voice cut through the laughter. "Back to your seats, everyone. Naruto, see me after class."

As Naruto trudged back to his desk, he noticed how the other students gave him a wide berth, their expressions shifting from mockery to something else—something that looked uncomfortably like fear.

"It happened again, didn't it?" Iruka asked quietly, perched on the edge of his desk. The classroom was empty now, late afternoon sun streaming through the windows and painting stripes across the floor.

Naruto stared at his sandals. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The purple chakra." Iruka's voice held no judgment, only curiosity. "It's not the Nine-Tails, is it?"

Naruto's head snapped up. "How do you—"

"Know about the Nine-Tails?" Iruka smiled sadly. "I was there that night, Naruto. I lost my parents to it. Everyone in the village old enough to remember knows what's sealed inside you."

"Is that why they hate me?" Naruto asked, his voice smaller than he intended.

Iruka sighed. "Fear makes people irrational. But what I find interesting is that they're afraid of the wrong thing." He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "The Nine-Tails' chakra is red. What you have that's something else entirely."

"I can't control it," Naruto admitted, the confession tumbling out before he could stop himself. "It just happens when I get emotional or try to use chakra. And it keeps getting stronger."

"Have you told anyone? The Hokage, perhaps?"

Naruto shook his head vehemently. "And give them another reason to think I'm a monster? No thanks."

"You're not a monster, Naruto." Iruka placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're just different. And different can be powerful, if you learn to embrace it."

The words settled in Naruto's chest, warm and unfamiliar. No one had ever suggested his strangeness might be a strength, not a defect.

"Tell you what," Iruka continued, "meet me at Training Ground Seven tomorrow after your classes. I've got some ideas that might help you gain better control."

For the first time that day, Naruto smiled—a genuine grin that lit up his entire face. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

"That's what teachers do," Iruka replied simply. "Now get going. And try not to blow anything up on your way home."

Naruto laughed, shouldering his backpack. As he slid the classroom door open, he hesitated. "Iruka-sensei? Thanks."

After Naruto left, Iruka remained at his desk, his smile fading into a thoughtful frown. He pulled out a blank scroll and began writing a note to the Hokage. Whatever power the boy possessed, it was becoming too significant to ignore. And too dangerous to leave untrained.

"Deadlast! Hey, Deadlast!"

Naruto hunched his shoulders and walked faster, pretending not to hear the taunts. Three days had passed since his meeting with Iruka-sensei, and their private training sessions had helped—a little. At least he hadn't caused any classroom explosions since then.

But Mizuki-sensei had paired him with Sasuke for sparring practice today, and the humiliating defeat still stung. Sasuke hadn't just beaten him; he'd barely seemed to try, dodging Naruto's attacks with contemptuous ease before laying him flat with a single well-placed kick.

"What's wrong, Uzumaki? Too busy playing with your weird purple light show to learn real ninja skills?"

The voice belonged to Hibachi, a stocky Academy student a year ahead of Naruto. He was flanked by two of his usual cronies, their headbands gleaming in the late afternoon sun—they'd graduated last week and clearly felt the need to assert their newfound status.

"Leave me alone," Naruto muttered, quickening his pace toward the training grounds. He was already late for his meeting with Iruka-sensei.

A hand grabbed his collar, yanking him backward. Naruto stumbled, nearly falling as Hibachi spun him around.

"Don't walk away when I'm talking to you, freak." Hibachi shoved him hard, sending Naruto sprawling into the dirt.

"Yeah, show some respect to actual ninjas," one of the cronies added, tapping his headband.

Naruto's hands clenched into fists, dirt grinding between his fingers. The familiar heat bubbled in his veins, the strange power responding to his anger like a loyal pet. Not now, he thought desperately, trying to suppress it as Iruka had taught him. Breathe. Focus on something else.

"What's the matter? Gonna cry to your mommy?" Hibachi sneered, then paused theatrically. "Oh wait, that's right—you don't have one. No one wanted a freak like you."

Something snapped inside Naruto. The thin thread of control he'd been clinging to unraveled in an instant. His vision blurred, edges tinged with violet. The energy exploded outward before he could stop it—a shockwave of destructive power that radiated from his body in pulsing waves.

The ground beneath him cracked, fissures spreading outward like a spiderweb. Nearby trees groaned, their bark peeling away in strips. The air itself seemed to warp, shimmering with heat distortion.

Hibachi and his friends stumbled backward, faces pale with genuine fear.

"What the hell—"

"Monster!"

"Run!"

They fled, tripping over themselves in their haste to escape. Naruto remained on his knees, staring in horror at what he'd done. The training ground looked like a meteor had struck it—the earth cratered beneath him, grassless and scorched in a perfect circle extending fifteen feet in every direction.

"No, no, no" He scrambled to his feet, panic clawing at his throat. This was bad. This was so much worse than anything that had happened before.

"Naruto!"

Iruka's voice cut through his panic. The chunin instructor stood at the edge of the destruction, his face a mask of shock. Behind him, moving with casual grace despite his advanced age, was the Third Hokage himself.

Hiruzen surveyed the damage with sharp eyes, his expression unreadable beneath the shadow of his hat. "Interesting," was all he said.

Naruto wanted to run, to hide, to disappear. But his legs refused to move. Violet energy still danced across his skin in sporadic bursts, responding to his fear like static electricity.

"I didn't mean to," he choked out. "They were saying things, and I just I couldn't"

"It's alright, Naruto." The Hokage approached slowly, seemingly unconcerned by the residual energy still crackling through the air. He knelt before the boy, looking directly into his eyes. "You're not in trouble."

"I'm not?" Naruto blinked back tears of relief.

"No. But I think it's time we had a talk about that power of yours."

Kakashi Hatake leaned against the wall outside the Hokage's office, his visible eye fixed on the orange book in his hands. To casual observers, he appeared utterly absorbed in his reading, oblivious to the world around him. But beneath the mask of indifference, the jonin's senses were fully alert, processing every snippet of conversation filtering through the heavy wooden door.

"never seen anything like it," Iruka was saying. "The damage pattern was consistent with high-level earth jutsu, but there was no hand sign, no chakra molding as we understand it."

"Destruction energy," the Hokage replied, his tone grave. "Pure and undiluted."

A third voice spoke—female, tightly controlled but layered with tension. "I warned you this would happen. It's getting stronger, just as I feared."

Kakashi's eyebrow rose slightly. Kushina Uzumaki. So the rumors were true—she was involved in this situation after all.

"The boy needs training," the Hokage continued. "Specialized training that accounts for his unique heritage."

"And who exactly do you suggest trains him?" Kushina's voice held a bitter edge. "There's only one being in the universe who truly understands that power, and we are not contacting him."

"The seal containing the Nine-Tails is already under strain from this foreign energy," Iruka interjected. "If Naruto loses control completely—"

"He won't," Kushina snapped. "Not if we teach him proper containment techniques."

"Which you could do yourself," the Hokage observed mildly, "if you would finally acknowledge him as your son."

Silence fell, heavy and charged. Kakashi turned a page in his book, looking for all the world like a man without a care.

"I've made my decision, regardless," the Hokage finally continued. "Kakashi will take special interest in Naruto's development going forward."

At the mention of his name, Kakashi straightened slightly.

"Kakashi?" Kushina's voice was incredulous. "What does he know about—"

"The Sharingan allows him to observe chakra patterns with precision," the Hokage explained patiently. "If anyone can map the flow of this destructive energy and help Naruto develop control techniques, it's him."

The door swung open, revealing the Hokage's weathered face. "Ah, Kakashi. Perfect timing. Please join us."

Kakashi slipped his book into his pouch and entered the office with practiced nonchalance. Iruka stood by the window, arms crossed and expression troubled. Kushina paced near the far wall, her crimson hair swinging with each agitated step. She shot Kakashi a look that mingled recognition with warning.

"You've heard most of it already, I presume," the Hokage said dryly, retaking his seat behind the desk.

Kakashi shrugged. "Enough to understand the situation is complex."

"An understatement," Kushina muttered.

The Hokage steepled his fingers. "What we discuss in this room does not leave it. Naruto Uzumaki's heritage and the true nature of his power must remain classified at the highest level."

Kakashi's visible eye focused on Kushina. The pieces were coming together—why she had distanced herself from her son, why the boy exhibited powers beyond what even a jinchūriki should possess. "You're saying the Nine-Tails isn't the only thing that makes him special."

"The Nine-Tails is the least of our concerns," Kushina replied tersely. "What's sealed inside my son is dangerous, yes. But what's in his blood" She trailed off, eyes distant with memories. "That power could level the entire village if fully awakened."

"Because his father wasn't Minato Namikaze," Kakashi said softly, completing the thought.

The Hokage nodded solemnly. "Naruto's true parentage must never become common knowledge. Not until he's old enough, strong enough, to protect himself from those who would exploit such power."

"Who was he?" Kakashi asked, directing the question to Kushina.

She met his gaze, her violet eyes haunted yet defiant. "Someone who should never discover he has a son. For all our sakes."

A heavy silence settled over the room. Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance, though the sky had been clear moments before. Kakashi moved to the window, watching as dark clouds gathered with unnatural speed over the Hokage Monument.

"The weather changed quickly," he remarked.

Kushina joined him, her face paling as she observed the purple-tinged storm clouds. "Too quickly." Her voice dropped to a whisper only Kakashi could hear. "And the wrong color."

Lightning flashed—not the typical white-blue of a natural storm, but a deep, resonant violet that illuminated the village in an otherworldly glow. For a fraction of a second, Kakashi could have sworn he saw a silhouette against the clouds—a slender, feline form with pointed ears, watching over Konoha with ancient, calculating eyes.

Then the vision was gone, leaving only ordinary storm clouds in its wake.

"It seems," the Hokage said quietly, "our time may be shorter than we thought."

Kushina's hands gripped the windowsill, her knuckles white. "He's dreaming. After all these years, he's finally dreaming of this place again."

"Who?" Iruka asked, confusion written across his features.

Kushina turned, her face set in grim determination. "Beerus. The God of Destruction."

As if in answer, another flash of purple lightning split the sky, followed by thunder that shook the very foundations of the Hokage Tower.

"And if his dreams lead him back to Earth," she continued, "everything changes."

In his small apartment across the village, Naruto Uzumaki sat cross-legged on his bed, watching the strange storm with wide eyes. As lightning illuminated his room, the boy lifted his hand, marveling at how the purple energy dancing across his palm seemed to pulse in perfect synchronization with the lightning outside.

For the first time, the power didn't feel alien or frightening.

It felt like coming home.

Morning light sliced through the gap in Naruto's curtains, painting a golden stripe across his rumpled bedsheets. Dust motes danced in the beam, swirling as he threw off his blanket and bounced to his feet. Today wasn't just any day—it was the day. Team assignments.

"I'm a real ninja now, believe it!" Naruto crowed to his empty apartment, jabbing triumphantly at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The newly acquired headband gleamed on his forehead, a symbol of everything he'd fought for.

His fingers traced the metal plate reverently. Who would have thought failing the Academy exam three times would lead to discovering the Shadow Clone Jutsu, defeating a traitor, and earning Iruka-sensei's respect all in one night? For once, even the strange purple energy had stayed dormant when he needed to perform.

"Today's the day everything changes," he told his reflection, grinning so wide his whisker marks stretched across his cheeks. "No more dead-last Naruto. They're gonna see what I can really do!"

Thirty minutes later, showered and dressed in his orange jumpsuit, Naruto raced through Konoha's awakening streets. Market vendors arranged produce in colorful displays, the scent of fresh bread wafted from bakeries, and early-rising shinobi leapt across rooftops on morning patrols. The village pulsed with life, though as always, that life parted around Naruto like water around a stone. Smiles faded when villagers spotted him, conversations hushed, parents tugged children closer.

Naruto pretended not to notice, his feet barely touching the ground as he sprinted toward the Academy. Nothing could dampen his spirits today—not the whispers, not the glares, not even the memory of Mizuki's sneering revelation about the Nine-Tails sealed inside him.

I'm more than the Nine-Tails. I'm Naruto Uzumaki, future Hokage!

He burst through the classroom door, chest heaving, a triumphant grin plastered across his face.

"You're late, Naruto," Iruka called from the front of the room, though his tone held more amusement than reproach. "Take a seat so we can begin."

The classroom buzzed with excitement, newly minted genin speculating in hushed whispers about team placements. Naruto scanned the room for an empty spot. His eyes locked with Sasuke Uchiha's for a brief, electric moment—the raven-haired prodigy's gaze cold and dismissive before sliding away in disinterest.

The only available seat was next to Sakura Haruno, whose emerald eyes widened in dismay as Naruto approached.

"Morning, Sakura-chan!" Naruto chirped, sliding into the seat beside her.

"Don't get comfortable," she hissed, tossing her pink hair. "I'm saving this for Sasuke-kun."

"But there's nowhere else—"

"As of today, you are all genin," Iruka announced, silencing the chatter. "You'll be assigned to three-person teams under a jōnin instructor who will guide your training and missions." He lifted a clipboard, eyes scanning the list. "Now for the team assignments"

Naruto fidgeted, barely listening as Iruka worked through the list. His mind raced with possibilities. Who would his teammates be? What kind of awesome jutsu would his jōnin teacher show him? Would they think his weird purple power was cool instead of freaky?

"Team Seven: Naruto Uzumaki"

Naruto's head snapped up, suddenly alert.

"Sakura Haruno"

"NO!" Sakura wailed, forehead hitting her desk with a thud while Naruto pumped his fist victoriously.

"and Sasuke Uchiha."

"YES!" Sakura's mood reversed instantly. She leapt to her feet, flashing a victory sign at Ino Yamanaka, who fumed from across the room.

"WHAT?" Naruto slammed his palms on the desk. "Iruka-sensei, why does an awesome ninja like me have to be on the same team as that jerk?"

Sasuke didn't even bother to look in his direction. "Try not to slow me down, loser."

"Sasuke ranked highest among all graduates," Iruka explained patiently, "while you, Naruto, had the lowest scores. We balance the teams by skill level."

Snickers rippled through the classroom. Naruto's face burned, the familiar cocktail of shame and defiance bubbling in his chest. Deep down, something else stirred too—that strange, electric energy responding to his emotions like an echo.

Not now, he thought desperately, forcing his breathing to slow as Iruka had taught him. Don't freak out in front of everyone.

"Your jōnin instructors will arrive after lunch," Iruka continued. "Until then, you're dismissed."

Students flooded into the hallway, chattering excitedly about their assignments. Naruto lingered, watching as Sakura tried to engage a disinterested Sasuke in conversation. Whatever Team Seven was supposed to be, it didn't feel like a team yet.

But I'll make it work, Naruto vowed silently. I'll show them all what I can really do.

Three hours later, Naruto's enthusiasm had curdled into restless frustration. Team Seven sat alone in the empty classroom, waiting for their perpetually late instructor.

"Where IS he?" Naruto paced like a caged animal, occasionally peering into the hallway for any sign of their missing teacher. "Everyone else left ages ago!"

Sasuke sat with fingers interlaced before his face, the very picture of brooding patience. Sakura alternated between admiring glances at her crush and irritated glares at Naruto's pacing.

"A real jōnin wouldn't be this late," Naruto grumbled, grabbing an eraser from the chalkboard tray. Mischief sparked in his blue eyes as he dragged a chair to the door and wedged the eraser in the gap at the top.

"Grow up, Naruto," Sakura scolded, though inner Sakura cheered the prank on. "He's an elite jōnin. He won't fall for something so childish."

Sasuke scoffed. "A true shinobi wouldn't be caught by such a simple trap."

The classroom door slid open. The eraser dropped with perfect comedic timing, landing with a puff of chalk dust on a shock of gravity-defying silver hair. For a long, suspended moment, all three genin stared in disbelief at the man in the doorway—tall, lean, face obscured by a mask, his visible eye crinkled in what might have been amusement or annoyance.

Naruto erupted in laughter, pointing dramatically. "You fell for it! You totally fell for it!"

"I'm so sorry, sensei!" Sakura clasped her hands apologetically, while casting a venomous side-eye at Naruto. "I told him not to do it, but he never listens!"

Sasuke said nothing, but his eyes narrowed fractionally. This was an elite jōnin?

The silver-haired man plucked the eraser from his hair, examining it thoughtfully. "Hmm, how should I put this? My first impression of you all" He paused for effect. "I hate you."

Three faces fell in unison.

"Meet me on the roof in five minutes." With that, he vanished in a swirl of leaves, leaving his stunned students behind.

"Let's start with introductions," the jōnin said lazily, leaning against the rooftop railing. "Names, likes, dislikes, hobbies, dreams for the future—that sort of thing."

"Why don't you go first, sensei?" Sakura suggested. "Show us how it's done."

"Me? I'm Kakashi Hatake. Things I like and things I dislike I don't feel like telling you that." His visible eye curved in what might have been a smile beneath his mask. "Dreams for the future never really thought about it. As for my hobbies I have lots of hobbies."

Naruto and Sakura exchanged incredulous glances. "That was totally useless!" Naruto stage-whispered. "All we learned was his name!"

"Your turn," Kakashi pointed at Naruto. "The one in orange."

Naruto sat up straighter, adjusting his headband. "I'm Naruto Uzumaki! I like instant ramen, but I like the ramen at Ichiraku's even better, especially when Iruka-sensei treats me! I hate the three minutes you have to wait after pouring hot water into instant ramen. My hobby is trying different kinds of ramen and comparing them. And my dream" His voice took on a fierce determination. "Is to become the greatest Hokage ever! Then the whole village will stop disrespecting me and start treating me like I'm somebody important!"

Kakashi's expression didn't change, but something flickered behind his visible eye. Interesting. No mention of the Nine-Tails or his other inheritance. He doesn't seem fully aware yet.

"Next," he nodded toward Sakura.

While Sakura gushed about her "likes" (with numerous glances at Sasuke) and Sasuke delivered his ice-cold declaration of vengeance, Kakashi found his attention repeatedly drawn to Naruto. The Third Hokage's briefing had been thorough, but seeing the boy in person—watching the barely perceptible flickers of violet energy that occasionally sparked at his fingertips when his emotions peaked—was another matter entirely.

Kushina was right to be concerned, Kakashi thought. That energy is growing more active as he does. And he has no idea what he's really capable of.

"Good," Kakashi clapped his hands once, startling his students from their thoughts. "You're each unique and have your own ideas. We'll have our first mission tomorrow."

"What kind of mission?" Naruto leaned forward eagerly.

"A survival exercise."

"But sensei," Sakura protested, "we already did survival exercises at the Academy."

Kakashi's eye crinkled with dark amusement. "This isn't like your previous training. Of the twenty-seven graduates, only nine will be accepted as genin. The other eighteen will be sent back to the Academy. This exercise has a failure rate of over 66%."

Horror dawned on three young faces.

"Told you you wouldn't like it," Kakashi said cheerfully. "Tomorrow morning, 5 AM, Training Ground Three. Bring your ninja gear." He turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and skip breakfast, or you'll throw up."

In a puff of smoke, he was gone, leaving three shell-shocked genin on the rooftop.

"No way I'm going back to the Academy," Naruto declared, clenching his fists. "No way!"

Inside him, unseen and unfelt, violet energy pulsed in agreement.

Across the universe, in a palatial structure floating among the stars, Whis paused mid-stride. The tall, blue-skinned attendant tilted his head slightly, as if listening to distant music. His staff, clutched in one elegant hand, pulsed with soft light.

"How curious," he murmured, tapping the staff gently against the immaculate floor. A projection appeared above it—a swirling globe that gradually resolved into the image of Earth, then zoomed in on a particular continent, a specific village, and finally, a young boy with blonde hair and whisker marks on his cheeks.

Whis observed the image with growing interest, noting the distinctive energy signature that radiated from the child—a familiar energy, though diluted by mortal blood.

"Well, well, Lord Beerus," he said to the empty hallway, "it seems you left something behind during your last visit to Earth. How very careless of you."

The staff's light flickered as the image changed, showing the same boy now emanating faint wisps of purple energy as he argued with a dark-haired peer.

"And quite powerful, too. Already channeling destruction energy at that age?" Whis chuckled softly. "Most unexpected."

With a graceful turn, he continued down the long corridor toward the sleeping chambers of the God of Destruction. Beerus had been slumbering for nearly twelve years now—a mere catnap by his standards. Interrupting his sleep was generally inadvisable, potentially cataclysmic for nearby planets, but this this warranted at least a mention.

The massive bedchamber was dark, illuminated only by the soft purple glow emanating from floating orbs that drifted near the ceiling. In the center of the room, on a floating platform surrounded by hourglasses of various sizes, Beerus lay curled in feline repose. His ears twitched occasionally in sleep, the tip of his tail flicking as he dreamed of whatever gods of destruction dreamed about.

"Lord Beerus," Whis called, maintaining a safe distance. "I've detected something that might interest you."

One ear flicked irritably, but Beerus didn't stir.

"It concerns Earth," Whis continued. "Specifically, a young mortal with a most unusual energy signature."

A low, rumbling growl emanated from the sleeping deity.

"One might almost think he has your blood, Lord Beerus." Whis's tone remained light, conversational. "Though of course, that would be quite impossible, given your well-known disdain for mortal attachments."

Beerus rolled over, one yellow eye cracking open to regard his attendant with sleepy annoyance. "What nonsense are you babbling about, Whis? Can't you see I'm sleeping?"

"Of course, my lord. Merely an observation." Whis bowed slightly, his expression serene. "The boy's energy reminds me of your own, though it's intertwined with something else—something quite potent in its own right. Chakra, I believe they call it."

"Chakra?" Beerus's ear twitched with faint recognition. "That primitive energy system from that backwater planet?"

"The very same."

For a moment, something like concern flickered across Beerus's face—quickly replaced by dismissive irritation. "You woke me for this? Some mortal brat with unusual energy?"

"I thought you might want to know, given your visit to Earth some years ago." Whis's tone remained carefully neutral. "To the hidden continent. To Konoha."

Beerus stiffened imperceptibly, memories of crimson hair and fierce violet eyes flashing through his mind. "That was a passing amusement. Nothing more."

"Of course, my lord."

"The boy is nothing to me," Beerus growled, turning his back to Whis. "Some cosmic coincidence, or more likely, your imagination running wild."

"As you say, Lord Beerus." Whis bowed again, deeper this time. "I'll let you return to your slumber."

"See that you do." Beerus curled tighter, pulling his tail around himself. "And don't bother me with such trivialities again. The affairs of mortals are beneath my concern."

"Very good, my lord. Pleasant dreams."

As Whis glided from the chamber, Beerus lay rigid, sleep suddenly elusive. A boy on Earth with destruction energy? Impossible. Gods of Destruction didn't procreate with mortals. The energies were incompatible. Any offspring would be unstable, dangerous—

He pushed the thought away violently, burying it beneath layers of cultivated indifference. Whatever this anomaly was, it wasn't his problem. Couldn't be his problem.

Yet as sleep reclaimed him, his dreams shifted. No longer did he dream of luxurious feasts or planetary demolition. Instead, he found himself haunted by a woman's laughter and the ghostly impression of crimson hair slipping through his fingers like water.

The bell test was going terribly. Spectacularly, catastrophically terribly.

Naruto hung upside down from a tree, ensnared by a trap so obvious a civilian child could have spotted it. Sakura lay unconscious after falling for a simple genjutsu. Sasuke was buried up to his neck in dirt, his stoic face twisted in humiliation.

And Kakashi Hatake stood in the center of the training ground, orange book in hand, looking for all the world like he was enjoying a leisurely afternoon rather than evaluating potential students.

"Is this really the best you've got?" he drawled, turning a page without looking up. "I'm beginning to think the Academy's standards have slipped dramatically."

Blood rushed to Naruto's head as he swayed gently in the trap, kunai still clutched uselessly in his hand. Anger and embarrassment warred in his chest. He'd charged in recklessly, alone, ignoring Kakashi's emphasis on teamwork in favor of showing off—and paid the price.

"This isn't over!" Naruto yelled, sawing frantically at the rope with his kunai. "I'm gonna get those bells, believe it!"

"Big talk from someone who resembles a piñata right now," Kakashi replied mildly.

The rope snapped. Naruto plummeted headfirst toward the ground, twisting desperately in midair. He landed with a bone-jarring thud that knocked the wind from his lungs. Pain lanced through his shoulder, but he scrambled to his feet, refusing to stay down.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!" he shouted, hands forming the cross sign.

Nothing happened.

"Shadow Clone Jutsu!" Naruto tried again, more forcefully. Still nothing. Panic fluttered in his chest. He'd performed the technique perfectly during his fight with Mizuki. Why wasn't it working now?

Deep inside, something stirred—hot and electric, rising to answer his distress. The familiar tingling spread through his limbs, purple sparks dancing between his fingers.

"No, not that," Naruto muttered, trying to suppress the strange energy. "Normal chakra, come on"

Kakashi lowered his book, his single visible eye suddenly sharp with interest. Through the Sharingan hidden beneath his headband, he watched the boy's chakra network fluctuate wildly—blue chakra attempting to flow through his pathways while veins of violet energy disrupted the current like electrical interference.

So that's the problem, Kakashi realized. His regular jutsu fail because the destruction energy interferes with normal chakra flow. He can't control both simultaneously yet.

Oblivious to his teacher's analysis, Naruto gritted his teeth and pushed harder. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

This time, something happened—but not what he intended. A shock wave of violet energy exploded outward from his body, carving a shallow crater beneath his feet. The air rippled visibly, bending light like a heat mirage. Nearby trees groaned, their leaves instantly withering and falling in a sudden autumn.

Kakashi's eye widened. He vanished in a blur of speed, reappearing behind Naruto with a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"That's enough," he said quietly, all trace of his earlier lackadaisical attitude gone.

Naruto stared in horror at the destruction radiating from where he stood. "I didn't mean to—I was just trying to—"

"I know." Kakashi's voice was surprisingly gentle. "It's not your fault."

Across the clearing, Sasuke had freed himself from the earth jutsu and was watching with narrowed eyes, reassessing everything he thought he knew about the class clown. Sakura had regained consciousness as well, her face pale with shock as she took in the devastation.

"What was that?" she whispered.

"That," Kakashi said, keeping his hand firmly on Naruto's shoulder, "is something we'll be working on controlling. All three of you pass, by the way."

"We pass?" Naruto's head snapped up, momentarily distracted from his dismay. "But we didn't get the bells. We didn't even work together like you said."

"The purpose of this test was to see if you could put the team above yourselves," Kakashi explained. "You failed miserably at that. But" His eye moved meaningfully to the scorched earth around Naruto. "We've got more pressing concerns now. Training starts tomorrow. Be ready."

As his new students gathered their equipment and departed—Sasuke with a calculating glance back at Naruto, Sakura with poorly concealed unease—Kakashi remained in the clearing, surveying the damage. The destruction energy had left a perfect circle of devastation, reminiscent of divine techniques he'd only read about in ancient scrolls.

"You were watching, weren't you?" he said to the apparently empty training ground.

Kushina Uzumaki stepped from the shadow of a distant oak, her crimson hair bright as blood in the afternoon sun. "I'm always watching," she replied simply.

"It's getting stronger."

"Yes." A single word, heavy with dread.

"He needs specialized training. Beyond what I can provide."

Kushina's jaw tightened. "What he needs is a seal. Something to suppress that energy until he's old enough to handle it properly."

"Suppression isn't control," Kakashi countered. "And seals fail. Especially under emotional duress."

"I don't care." Kushina's voice sharpened. "I won't have him drawing attention from—" She stopped abruptly, glancing skyward as if expecting to find someone watching.

"From his father?" Kakashi finished quietly.

Kushina's gaze snapped back to him, violet eyes flashing with warning. "You don't understand what you're talking about, Kakashi. Beerus isn't just powerful. He's beyond anything this world has ever faced. If he realized he had a son here—a half-mortal son breaking the natural order—he might decide to erase the problem entirely."

"Would he really destroy his own child?"

"In a heartbeat." No hesitation in her answer. "Gods of Destruction don't form attachments. They exist to maintain cosmic balance through controlled annihilation. Sentiment doesn't enter into it."

Kakashi considered her words, his analytical mind working through the implications. "And yet you formed an attachment with him."

Kushina's expression softened fractionally. "I was young and foolish. And Beerus was different then. More curious about mortal existence." She shook her head, as if dispelling unwanted memories. "It doesn't matter now. What matters is protecting Naruto—from himself, from those who would exploit his power, and from the truth for as long as possible."

"The Hokage needs to know about this latest incident," Kakashi said. "The seal containing the Nine-Tails is already under strain from the destruction energy. If they continue to conflict—"

"I'll speak with him." Kushina turned to leave, then hesitated. "Train him well, Kakashi. But be careful. The more he uses that power, the more visible he becomes to beings beyond our world."

With that cryptic warning, she was gone, leaving Kakashi alone with the afternoon breeze and troubling thoughts.

The Land of Waves sprawled before Team Seven, a patchwork of islands connected by bridges and boat routes, shrouded in perpetual mist. Their first C-rank mission—escort the bridge builder Tazuna home safely—had already veered dangerously off course with the appearance of the Demon Brothers, chunin-level missing-nin from the Hidden Mist.

Now, as they trudged along a fog-shrouded path toward Tazuna's village, tension coiled around them like invisible wire. Even Naruto, usually bursting with excited chatter, walked in watchful silence. His hand occasionally drifted to the bandage on his left palm—a self-inflicted wound from his dramatic vow to never freeze in battle again, after Sasuke had shown him up during the earlier ambush.

The mist thickened, unnatural in its density and chill. Kakashi's exposed eye narrowed. "Get down!"

Everyone dropped as a massive blade whirled overhead like a horizontal guillotine, embedding itself in a tree trunk with a meaty thunk. A tall figure appeared, standing on the sword's handle with casual balance—a shirtless man with half his face wrapped in bandages, radiating killing intent so thick it seemed to solidify the air.

"Well, well," the man's deep voice rumbled through the mist. "Kakashi of the Sharingan. No wonder the Demon Brothers failed."

"Zabuza Momochi," Kakashi identified him, his posture deceptively relaxed despite the danger. "Demon of the Hidden Mist. Missing-nin."

"I'm flattered you know me." Zabuza's eyes curved in what might have been a smile beneath his bandages. "Hand over the old man, and I might let the kids live."

"Manji formation!" Kakashi commanded, lifting his headband to reveal his Sharingan eye. "Protect Tazuna!"

What followed was a lesson in the vast gulf between genin and elite jōnin. Zabuza and Kakashi moved with blinding speed, trading devastating water jutsu that reshaped the landscape around them. When Kakashi found himself trapped in Zabuza's Water Prison Jutsu, the true nightmare began.

A water clone of Zabuza advanced on the genin with malicious intent, massive blade gleaming dully in the mist. "Playing at being ninja," he taunted. "When you've hovered between life and death so many times it doesn't faze you, then you may be called a ninja. When your name is in my bingo book, then you may earn the title. But to call upstarts like you ninja is a joke."

He vanished, reappearing before Naruto with frightening speed. A vicious kick sent the boy flying, his headband torn away to land in the dirt beneath Zabuza's foot.

"Just pathetic little kids."

Naruto lay where he'd fallen, pain radiating through his body. Fear paralyzed him, memories of the Demon Brothers flashing through his mind. He'd frozen then too, saved only by Sasuke's quick thinking. Now Kakashi was captured, Tazuna defenseless, and he—Naruto Uzumaki, self-proclaimed future Hokage—couldn't even move.

I'm going to die here, he thought with startling clarity. We're all going to die.

Something inside him rebelled against the thought—wild and electric, surging in response to his terror. The familiar tingling spread through his limbs, but this time, Naruto didn't fight it. He was beyond technique, beyond control. All he had was raw, desperate need.

Power. I need power NOW.

"Your turn to die, kid," Zabuza's clone advanced on Sasuke next, sword raised.

Naruto lurched to his feet. Violet energy crackled visibly around him now, lifting his hair as if in an invisible wind. His eyes, normally blue as summer skies, flashed purple.

"Get away from him," Naruto growled, his voice resonating strangely, as if multiple voices spoke at once.

The water clone paused, head tilting in curiosity. "What's this? The brat has some fight after all?"

With a speed that surprised even himself, Naruto charged, destruction energy trailing from his fingertips like purple lightning. He slammed into the water clone with his shoulder, expecting to pass through water. Instead, where his body connected, the clone didn't just disperse—it evaporated, steam hissing as water molecules disintegrated on contact with the violet aura.

Zabuza's real body, still maintaining the Water Prison, stiffened in shock. "What the hell?"

Kakashi, imprisoned in the sphere of water, stared through its distortion with both eyes wide. That's not the Nine-Tails' chakra. That's pure destruction energy.

The violet aura intensified around Naruto, his body trembling with power he barely comprehended. The energy felt good—right—as if he'd finally found something that had been missing his entire life. It sang in his veins, begging for release.

"I'm not afraid of you," he said, advancing on Zabuza's real body. Each step left a smoldering footprint in the damp earth.

Zabuza's eyes narrowed, calculating. This wasn't the Nine-Tails' power—he'd heard about that from reports of the Kyūbi's attack on Konoha. This was something else entirely. Something that made his survival instincts scream danger.

"Interesting technique, kid," he called, maintaining the Water Prison. "But you're still just playing ninja."

Naruto didn't reply with words. Instead, he raised his hand, palm outward. Acting on pure instinct, he pushed the energy outward, focusing it into a concentrated beam of violet light.

The resulting blast tore through the mist like a laser, forcing Zabuza to abandon the Water Prison and leap away. The energy beam continued into the lake behind him, superheating the water instantly. Steam exploded upward in a geyser fifty feet high.

Freed from imprisonment, Kakashi moved immediately, putting himself between Naruto and Zabuza. "Naruto, stand down!"

But Naruto barely heard him. The energy was intoxicating, flooding his system with euphoric power. His vision gained strange clarity—he could see the individual water droplets in the mist, could perceive the minute fluctuations in Zabuza's chakra as he prepared another jutsu.

"I can take him, Kakashi-sensei," Naruto said, his voice still carrying that strange resonance. "I can feel it. This power—it's like it was always meant to be mine."

"That power is dangerous," Kakashi warned, keeping his eyes on Zabuza. "You can't control it yet."

"Seems like the brat's got a kekkei genkai you didn't tell me about, Kakashi," Zabuza called, reassessing the situation. "Interesting. Might fetch a good price."

"Touch him and die," Kakashi replied, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper.

The standoff might have continued, but nature intervened. The temperature plummeted suddenly. The mist condensed into fine ice crystals that hung in the air like diamond dust. Two senbon needles flashed through the air, striking Zabuza in the neck with surgical precision.

The missing-nin collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.

A masked figure appeared on a nearby branch—slender, dressed in the distinctive uniform of Kirigakure's hunter-nin division. "Thank you for distracting him," the newcomer said, voice soft and androgynous behind the porcelain mask. "I've been tracking Zabuza for weeks."

As the hunter-nin claimed Zabuza's body and disappeared in a swirl of ice crystals, the violet energy finally receded from Naruto's system. The power withdrawal hit him like a physical blow, leaving him lightheaded and nauseous. His knees buckled.

Kakashi caught him before he hit the ground. "Easy," he murmured, supporting Naruto's weight. "That's quite a light show you put on."

"Did you see that?" Naruto's voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "I wasn't scared anymore. I felt like I could do anything."

"That's what worries me," Kakashi replied, too quietly for the others to hear.

Sasuke approached cautiously, dark eyes scanning Naruto with new wariness. "What was that power, dobe? Some kind of secret technique?"

"I don't know." Naruto managed a weak grin. "Pretty cool though, right?"

Before Sasuke could respond, Kakashi staggered, his visible eye rolling back as exhaustion claimed him. The combined strain of Sharingan use and the heightened battle awareness required to monitor Naruto's destructive outburst had depleted his chakra dangerously.

As Team Seven regrouped to carry their unconscious sensei to Tazuna's home, none of them noticed the faint purple glow that lingered in Naruto's eyes, pulsing in time with his heartbeat like a beacon to forces beyond their comprehension.

"Absolutely not." Kushina's voice rang through the Hokage's office, her hands flat on his desk as she leaned forward. "We are NOT experimenting with my son's seal."

The Third Hokage sighed, looking every one of his seventy years. "Kushina, be reasonable. What happened in Wave Country confirms our worst fears. The destruction energy is becoming more active, more responsive to his emotional state. If we don't take measures now—"

"Your 'measures' could kill him!" Kushina cut in, violet eyes flashing. "The Nine-Tails' seal is complex enough without trying to layer another restriction on top of it. One mistake, one miscalculation, and both could fail catastrophically."

"And if we do nothing?" Hiruzen countered, his voice gentle but firm. "When he fully manifests those powers in the middle of Konoha? When the energy signature grows strong enough to reach across the stars?"

Kushina fell silent, conflict written across her features. Outside the windows, rain lashed against glass, the low rumble of thunder punctuating their conversation like cosmic commentary.

"We have scrolls," the Hokage continued carefully, "ancient texts from before the founding of the hidden villages. They reference beings of immense destructive power—gods who visited our world eons ago. Some contain sealing techniques specifically designed to contain divine energy."

"Those are just legends," Kushina argued, but her conviction wavered. "Stories from before chakra was even properly understood."

"Then how do you explain what Naruto can do?" Hiruzen's gaze was penetrating. "What Kakashi witnessed wasn't ninjutsu, genjutsu, or taijutsu. It wasn't even the Nine-Tails' influence. It was something else entirely—something that, according to Kakashi's report, vaporized water on contact and superheated a lake instantaneously."

Kushina turned away, moving to the rain-streaked window. Her reflection stared back at her, haunted and uncertain. "You don't understand what you're dealing with," she said quietly. "These 'gods' from your ancient scrolls—they're real. And they operate on a scale beyond our comprehension."

"Then help us understand." The Hokage rose, joining her at the window. "You're the only one who can."

Lightning flashed, illuminating the village in stark relief. In that brief, electric moment, Kushina could have sworn she saw a tall, slender figure watching from atop the Hokage Monument—blue-skinned, white-haired, carrying a staff that glowed with inner light.

But when the lightning faded, there was nothing there but rain and shadows.

"I need time to think," she said finally. "To research alternatives. Promise me you won't do anything until I've exhausted every other option."

Hiruzen nodded solemnly. "You have my word."

"And Naruto stays on active duty with Team Seven. The last thing we need is for him to become suspicious or feel isolated again." She turned to face the Hokage fully. "Kakashi keeps training him—focusing on control, not power. No one else needs to know what really happened in Wave Country."

"Agreed." The Hokage returned to his desk, his movements betraying the weight of his concerns. "But Kushina—time is not on our side. I feel it in these old bones. Something is coming."

As if confirming his words, thunder shook the tower with unusual force. A strange, violet tinge illuminated the clouds for a fraction of a second—too brief for most to notice, but unmistakable to Kushina's trained eye.

"Yes," she whispered, more to herself than to the Hokage. "Something is definitely coming."

Naruto tossed in his sleep, tangled in sweat-damp sheets. The small bedroom in Tazuna's house felt stifling despite the cool night air filtering through the open window. Outside, mist curled like spectral fingers around the incomplete bridge, visible in the moonlight.

In his dreams, Naruto soared through an endless void, stars streaming past like liquid light. The sensation was both terrifying and exhilarating—the boundless freedom, the raw power thrumming through his body. He wasn't alone in this cosmic playground. A presence moved with him, just beyond peripheral vision—slender, feline, radiating power that dwarfed his own like the sun outshines a candle.

"Who are you?" Naruto called into the void, his voice echoing strangely.

The presence paused, hovering before a small, beautiful planet—blue-green and alive with countless energy signatures. Without warning, it lifted one clawed finger. Purple energy condensed at its tip, swirling like a miniature galaxy.

"Hakai," the being whispered.

The energy shot forward, connecting with the planet. For a suspended moment, nothing happened. Then the world simply unmade itself. It didn't explode, didn't fracture, didn't burn. It disintegrated at the atomic level, constituent particles scattering into the void as if they'd never been arranged into a living world at all.

Horror froze Naruto in place. Billions of lives—erased in an instant, without effort, without consequence.

The being turned, and for the first time, Naruto saw its face. Purple skin. Pointed ears. Golden, slitted eyes that reflected the destruction with utter indifference. A face both alien and—somehow, impossibly—familiar.

Those golden eyes locked with his, widening in recognition and disbelief.

"Impossible," the God of Destruction whispered.

Naruto bolted upright in bed, a scream caught in his throat. His heart hammered against his ribs, sweat pouring down his face. Beside him, Sasuke stirred but didn't wake, his breathing deep and regular.

The dream clung to Naruto like cobwebs, too vivid to dismiss as ordinary imagination. The casual destruction, the cosmic power, the face of the destroyer—it felt like memory rather than fantasy, knowledge rather than invention.

More disturbing still was the fact that his body was responding to the dream. Violet energy coursed through him, illuminating the dark room with an eerie glow. He stared at his hands, watching the destruction energy dance between his fingers—familiar now, almost comforting.

"What am I?" he whispered to the empty night.

In the depths of his mind, sealed behind layers of powerful jutsu, the Nine-Tailed Fox stirred. The ancient bijuu had been observing with growing interest as the strange purple energy manifested with increasing frequency. It was old enough to recognize divine power when it sensed it—and wise enough to know that its jailor was far more than the unwanted orphan he appeared to be.

"**More than you know, child,**" the Fox rumbled within its cage, its voice reaching Naruto for the first time through the haze of sleep. "**And far more dangerous.**"

Outside Tazuna's house, unnoticed in the pre-dawn darkness, a small light pulsed briefly among the stars—a cosmic entity taking note of the energy signature flaring on the small blue planet below.

The watcher paused, staff glowing softly as it recorded the coordinates before continuing its endless patrol of Universe 7. It would return to report this anomaly to its master—when the time was right. For now, it was content to observe from afar as the son of a God of Destruction began to awaken to his heritage.

Worlds away, Beerus turned restlessly in his sleep, ancient memories surfacing in dreams he would no longer remember upon waking—memories of crimson hair and fierce violet eyes that had once looked upon him without fear.

Stardust spiraled through Naruto's fingertips, violet and cold as deep space. Planets hung in the void around him like ripe fruit, ready for plucking—or destruction. A manic exhilaration surged through his veins as he lifted one hand toward a gleaming blue-green world, its rings spectacular in the light of a distant star.

"Go on," a voice purred behind him, low and resonant. "It's what you were born to do."

Purple energy crackled at Naruto's fingertips, building to a crescendo that threatened to tear his skin apart. The power sang to him, seductive and ancient. One flick of his wrist and billions of lives would wink out like candles in a hurricane.

So easy. So right.

With a strangled cry, Naruto jolted upright in bed, sweat plastering his blonde hair to his forehead. The dream evaporated like morning mist, leaving only the phantom sensation of cosmic power and the lingering echo of that voice—so alien yet disturbingly familiar.

Moonlight sliced through his apartment window, painting silver rectangles across his rumpled sheets. Three in the morning, according to the clock beside his bed. The fourth night in a row he'd woken at the same hour, heart hammering against his ribs like it might punch through.

"Not again," he muttered, rubbing his eyes furiously.

The dreams had started after the mission to Wave Country—after that strange purple energy had exploded from him during the fight with Zabuza. At first, he'd been thrilled. Finally, a power that was his, not the Nine-Tails', not some jutsu anyone could learn with enough practice. Something special, something unique.

Something terrifying.

Because the dreams that accompanied this power weren't just dreams. They felt like memories, or premonitions, or something else entirely—glimpses into a cosmic reality that his human mind could barely process.

Naruto swung his legs over the edge of the bed and padded barefoot to the bathroom. The face that greeted him in the mirror looked haggard, shadows smudged beneath blue eyes that occasionally flashed violet in the dim light. He splashed cold water on his cheeks, trying to banish the last tendrils of the dream.

"Get it together," he told his reflection sternly. "The Chunin Exams start tomorrow. You can't be half-dead from lack of sleep."

His reflection didn't look convinced.

With a sigh, Naruto returned to bed, knowing sleep would elude him for the remainder of the night. He stared at the ceiling, mind churning with questions no twelve-year-old should have to contemplate. What was happening to him? Why did destruction feel so natural in those dreams? And why did that voice—that cat-like entity that haunted the edge of his dreamscape—feel so unnervingly like a part of himself?

Deep within the labyrinth of Naruto's mindscape, where fetid water dripped from unseen pipes and shadows stretched into infinity, the Nine-Tailed Fox stirred in its cage. Massive crimson eyes opened, glowing like malevolent suns as they tracked the purple energy that had begun to infiltrate even this sealed space. The energy swirled in elegant patterns across the chamber floor, somehow bypassing the seal that held the Fox at bay.

The bijuu's lips curled back from dagger-like teeth—not in a snarl, but something closer to fascination.

"**Come out, little godling,**" the Fox called, its voice echoing through the cavernous space. "**I know you're there, beneath the surface. I can taste your power.**"

As if responding to the summons, the purple energy coalesced into a hazy silhouette—vaguely feline, translucent as smoke. Not a full manifestation, merely an echo, a genetic memory trying to take form.

The Nine-Tails chuckled, the sound rumbling like distant thunder. "**How fascinating. The kit doesn't even know what he carries in his blood. A legacy more ancient than my own.**"

The silhouette wavered, almost questioning.

"**Oh yes,**" the Fox continued, settling onto its haunches, tails swishing with predatory interest. "**I've walked this world for millennia, watched civilizations rise and fall, and even I know to tread carefully around your kind. Gods of Destruction. Cosmic enforcers. Harbingers of necessary ends.**"

The energy pulsed, growing brighter.

"**Does the boy know?**" The Nine-Tails leaned closer to the bars, its breath hot and sulfurous. "**Does he understand why ordinary jutsu fail him, why chakra slips through his grasp like water? Why he dreams of shattered worlds and cosmic dust?**"

The silhouette dissipated suddenly, dissolving back into formless energy that retreated into the shadows. The Fox's laughter followed it, equal parts mocking and intrigued.

"**Run all you want,**" it called to the retreating energy. "**But blood will tell in the end. And his blood is far from human.**"

Across the universe, in a palatial bedchamber suspended among the stars, Beerus the Destroyer twitched in his sleep. Clawed fingers clutched at silken sheets, tearing them to ribbons as dreams plagued him—dreams that had never troubled his millennia-long slumbers before.

In his dream, he stood once more on that primitive, backwater planet with its fractured continents and endless oceans. Before him, a woman with hair like liquid flame regarded him without fear, violet eyes challenging everything he thought he knew about mortal insignificance.

"You're a terrible liar for a god," dream-Kushina told him, her voice stirring memories he'd buried beneath centuries of calculated indifference.

The scene shifted. Now he floated above a village hidden among spiraling leaves, watching as a boy with sunshine hair and whisker-marked cheeks trained in a forest clearing. Purple energy—*his* energy—crackled around the child's small form as he struggled to control power no mortal frame was meant to contain.

The boy looked up suddenly, as if sensing Beerus's presence. Eyes that had been blue as Earth's skies bled to violet—the same shade as his own when power surfaced.

"Are you my father?" the boy asked, his voice carrying across the cosmic divide.

Beerus woke with a snarl, destruction energy instinctively flooding his body. The chamber around him cracked, spiderweb fissures racing across walls and ceiling as his power lashed out uncontrolled—something that hadn't happened since he was a novice deity, newly ascended to his cosmic role.

"Lord Beerus?" Whis appeared in the doorway, staff glowing softly. "Is something amiss?"

"Nothing," Beerus snapped, fur bristling along his spine. "A dream. Nothing more."

Whis's eyes narrowed slightly, taking in the destruction with one sweeping glance. "Of course, my lord. Though I can't recall the last time 'nothing' caused you to damage your bedchamber so extensively."

Beerus glared at his attendant, tail lashing behind him. "Don't you have something to attend to elsewhere, Whis?"

"Actually, I was coming to inform you of some interesting developments on Earth." Whis's tone remained light, conversational, despite the crackling energy still emanating from the irritated deity. "The energy signature we detected has grown significantly stronger in recent weeks. Almost as if it's awakening to its true nature."

"I told you I don't care about some mortal anomaly," Beerus growled, floating up from his ruined bed.

"Of course, my lord." Whis bowed slightly, though the gleam in his eyes suggested he knew more than he was saying. "Though I find it curious that this particular energy signature flares most strongly when the boy dreams. Almost as if something—or someone—is reaching for him across the cosmos."

Beerus went very still, golden eyes narrowing to slits. "Are you implying something, Whis?"

"I would never presume, Lord Beerus." Whis turned to leave, then paused in the doorway. "Though I do find myself wondering what might happen if a God of Destruction's power were to manifest in a mortal body? The consequences could be unpredictable."

After Whis had glided away, Beerus remained hovering in the center of his bedchamber, fists clenched at his sides. The dreams hadn't been random. Something was pulling at him—a connection he'd never anticipated, never wanted.

"Impossible," he muttered, but the word lacked conviction.

Gods of Destruction didn't procreate with mortals. The energies were incompatible, the resulting offspring unstable. It was one of the cosmic laws he upheld.

But if he had somehow broken that law

Beerus closed his eyes, extending his senses beyond the confines of his domain, beyond the familiar parameters of godly awareness. There—impossibly distant yet undeniable—a flicker of energy that resonated with his own. Young, untrained, chaotic, but growing stronger by the day.

With a sound of frustration that was almost a roar, Beerus severed the connection, forcing his awareness back to his immediate surroundings. He would not acknowledge this. Would not investigate. Would not allow himself to be drawn into the messy, complicated affairs of mortals.

Even if one of those mortals carried his blood.

The Forest of Death lived up to its name, ancient trees towering hundreds of feet overhead, their tangled canopy blocking out all but the most determined sunlight. Every shadow concealed potential threats—venomous insects, carnivorous plants, competing teams with scrolls to steal and lives to take. The air hung thick with humidity and the copper tang of fresh blood.

For Team Seven, the Chunin Exams' second stage had quickly devolved from challenging to catastrophic.

"Run!" Sasuke shouted, blood streaming from the strange, comma-like marks that had appeared on his neck after their encounter with the grass ninja. "We need to regroup!"

Sakura stumbled after him, clutching a kunai in white-knuckled fingers, her once-pristine dress torn and dirty. Naruto brought up the rear, a dozen shadow clones providing temporary cover as they fled through the underbrush.

They'd been ambushed by someone—some*thing*—far beyond genin level. The grass ninja had shed her skin like a snake, revealing a bone-white face with eyes like a predator's. She'd moved faster than thought, wielding techniques that belonged in forbidden scrolls, not a chunin examination.

And she'd been fixated on Sasuke—until Naruto's power had flared.

It happened during the height of the battle. Sasuke was down, paralyzed by the stranger's killing intent. Sakura was barely holding it together. And Naruto, consumed by desperate rage, had reached for the Nine-Tails' chakra—only to access something else entirely.

The purple energy had exploded from him like a supernova, searing the air and forcing even their terrifying opponent to leap back in surprise. For a few precious seconds, the tables had turned. Naruto had moved with inhuman speed, destruction energy trailing from his fingertips as he drove the snake-like ninja back.

"Fascinating," the enemy had hissed, yellow eyes gleaming with new interest. "What a delicious surprise you are, Naruto-kun. Not just the Nine-Tails jinchūriki, but something far more exotic."

Then she'd moved, faster than even Naruto's enhanced senses could track. Pain had exploded in his stomach as five glowing fingertips slammed into his seal, disrupting both the Fox's chakra and the strange purple energy, sending him spiraling into unconsciousness.

He'd woken to Sakura's frantic voice and the sounds of pursuit crashing through the forest behind them.

Now, sheltered briefly in the hollow trunk of a massive tree, Team Seven paused to catch their breath. Sasuke's face was drawn with pain, the strange marks on his neck pulsing with malevolent chakra. Sakura hovered nearby, torn between concern for her crush and vigilance against their pursuer.

Naruto pressed a hand to his stomach, feeling the disrupted flow of energy beneath his skin. Whatever that snake woman had done, it had scrambled his chakra network completely. The Nine-Tails felt distant, unreachable. And the purple energy that had been growing more accessible flickered weakly, like a candle flame in a gale.

"What was that power?" Sasuke demanded suddenly, dark eyes fixed on Naruto. "That wasn't the Nine-Tails' chakra. I've seen that before—it was something else."

Naruto's head snapped up. "You know about the Nine-Tails?"

"Everyone with a brain knows what you contain," Sasuke replied, though without his usual contempt. "But that purple energy it's different. It's what you used against Zabuza, isn't it? What's been interfering with your jutsu in training."

Naruto looked away, uncomfortable with Sasuke's piercing analysis. "I don't know what it is, okay? It just happens sometimes."

"It's getting stronger," Sasuke persisted. "And that snake freak recognized it. Seemed pretty interested, too."

"Guys, we need to move," Sakura interrupted, peering out from their hiding place. "I think I heard something—"

A low, mocking chuckle finished her sentence. "My, my, what clever little mice, scurrying into a hole." The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, echoing through the forest. "But I'm afraid your time is up."

The air before them rippled like a heat mirage, resolving into the pale-faced ninja who had attacked them earlier. Her—*his?*—long tongue flicked out, tasting the air with reptilian precision.

"I came for Sasuke-kun," the enemy mused, yellow eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Such fascinating potential in those Uchiha genes. But now I find myself torn." The predatory gaze shifted to Naruto. "A jinchūriki with destruction energy how completely unexpected. Tell me, boy—do you know what you are?"

Naruto shifted into a fighting stance, trying to summon shadow clones despite the chaotic state of his chakra. "I'm the guy who's gonna kick your creepy ass!"

The enemy laughed, the sound utterly devoid of humor. "Such spirit. But I've sealed off your chakra, child. The Nine-Tails won't help you now. And that other power" The snake-like shinobi licked his lips. "It's still developing, isn't it? Not fully awakened."

"Get away from them."

The new voice cracked like a whip through the forest clearing. All heads turned to see a figure emerge from between the massive trees—a woman with crimson hair that fell to her knees, dressed in a jōnin vest and dark pants, her face set in fierce determination.

Naruto's breath caught in his throat. He'd glimpsed her around the village his entire life—watching from a distance, never approaching, never acknowledging. The red-haired woman who disappeared when he tried to get closer, who sometimes appeared in his nightmares and bittersweet dreams.

"Kushina Uzumaki," the snake ninja purred, turning to face the newcomer. "The Nine-Tails' former host. How interesting that you choose now to acknowledge your abandoned son."

Sasuke and Sakura turned to Naruto with identical expressions of shock. Son?

Naruto couldn't breathe. The world narrowed to a pinpoint, centered on the woman's face—a face that held the same shape of eyes as his own, the same determined set to the jaw.

"Orochimaru." Kushina's voice was cold as steel. "You're a long way from your hidey-hole. The ANBU will be here shortly."

"I rather doubt that," Orochimaru replied smoothly. "They're currently occupied with my little distractions elsewhere in the forest. No one's coming to save these children but you, Kushina-chan. How confident are you in those rusty skills of yours?"

Chakra chains erupted from Kushina's back, golden and brilliant against the forest gloom. They whipped toward Orochimaru with deadly precision, forcing the Sannin to leap backward in a graceful arc.

"Take the genin and go," Kushina ordered, not looking at Naruto. "I'll handle this snake."

"Oh, I don't think so." Orochimaru's neck elongated impossibly, his head shooting toward Sasuke with fangs bared. Simultaneously, his hands flashed through seals, summoning a massive snake that lunged at Naruto and Sakura.

Kushina's chains intercepted the snake, binding it mid-strike. But she couldn't stop Orochimaru's distended neck from reaching its target. Fangs sank into Sasuke's shoulder, just above the strange marks that already marred his skin. The Uchiha's scream echoed through the forest as additional comma-like symbols appeared around the first set.

"A parting gift," Orochimaru hissed, retracting to his normal form. "I do so hate leaving empty-handed."

Sasuke collapsed, convulsing in pain. Sakura dropped to her knees beside him, green eyes wide with horror.

"You bastard!" Naruto snarled, lurching forward despite his scrambled chakra. "What did you do to him?"

"Just a little insurance policy," Orochimaru replied, regarding Naruto with renewed interest. "Though I admit, I'm most curious about you now, Naruto-kun. The son of a God of Destruction walking around in human form how utterly delicious."

The words hit Naruto like a physical blow. "What are you talking about? My father was the Fourth Hokage!"

Orochimaru's laughter cut him to the bone. "Is that what they told you? How quaint."

"Enough!" Kushina's chains lashed out again, glowing even brighter as she channeled more chakra. "You will not touch my son!"

"So protective now," Orochimaru taunted. "Yet you kept your distance for twelve years. Tell me, Kushina-chan, was it shame that kept you away? Or fear of what the boy might become once his true heritage awakened?"

Kushina's face contorted with rage and something else—something that looked horribly like guilt. Her chains redoubled their assault, forcing Orochimaru to dodge in a blur of inhuman speed.

"We'll continue this fascinating conversation another time," the Sannin called, body beginning to dissolve into a mass of writhing snakes. "Do give my regards to your former lover, Kushina. Though I imagine the God of Destruction has long forgotten his little dalliance with a mortal woman."

With those parting words, Orochimaru vanished, leaving only the echo of his mocking laughter and the writhing mass of a summoned snake, still bound in Kushina's chains.

For a long moment, silence reigned in the forest clearing. Sasuke's labored breathing and the distant calls of predatory birds were the only sounds. Kushina stood with her back to Naruto, shoulders rigid, chains still extended but no longer glowing with active chakra.

"Is it true?" Naruto's voice came out smaller than he intended, a child's voice asking a question he'd carried his entire life. "Are you are you my mother?"

Kushina turned slowly, her face a mask of complicated emotions—grief, guilt, fear, and beneath it all, a love so raw it hurt to witness. "Yes," she said simply.

The word hung in the air between them, twelve years of absence distilled into a single syllable.

"And my father?" Naruto pressed, fists clenched at his sides, a lifetime of loneliness crystallizing into burning anger. "Was that snake freak telling the truth about that too? Am I not the Fourth Hokage's son?"

Kushina closed her eyes briefly, as if gathering strength. When she opened them again, they shone with unshed tears. "Minato Namikaze was a good man who gave his life to save this village. He loved you as his own, even knowing the truth."

"Which is what?" Naruto demanded, voice rising. "What's the truth you've all been keeping from me?"

"Your biological father" Kushina's voice faltered, then steadied with visible effort. "Your father is Beerus, the God of Destruction. A cosmic entity whose power and purpose exist on a scale beyond human comprehension."

The words seemed to alter reality itself, twisting Naruto's understanding of his own existence. Fragments of dreams—of violet energy and shattered planets, of a voice that purred with casual destructive power—suddenly aligned into a horrifying new context.

"And you kept this from me? My whole life, you were alive, right here in the village, and you just what? Decided I wasn't worth the trouble?" The hurt in his voice was raw, bleeding.

"I stayed away to protect you," Kushina replied, taking a step toward him. "Beerus's energy signature is tied to yours. The more contact we had, the stronger that connection would grow. If he ever sensed you fully, recognized what you are"

"What am I?" Naruto's voice cracked.

"A miracle," Kushina whispered. "And an impossibility. Gods of Destruction aren't supposed to procreate with mortals. The energies are incompatible. That you exist at all defies cosmic law."

Naruto staggered back as if struck, bumping into the massive tree trunk behind him. Twelve years of ostracism, of cold stares and whispered rumors, of desperate loneliness—and all because of something he'd never asked for, never known about.

"Does everyone know?" he asked, dreading the answer. "Is that why they all look at me like I'm a monster?"

"No," Kushina shook her head firmly. "Only a handful know the full truth—the Third Hokage, Kakashi, a few others. The village fears you because of the Nine-Tails, not your divine heritage. That's been kept secret for your protection."

Sakura made a small sound from where she knelt beside Sasuke, reminding everyone of her presence. Her green eyes were huge with shock, darting between Naruto and Kushina as if seeing them both for the first time.

"Naruto" she began, then faltered, unsure what to say to this revelation.

"We need to get Sasuke to the medical team," Kushina said, all business again as she knelt beside the unconscious Uchiha. "That cursed seal is spreading rapidly. And Naruto" Her eyes softened as they met her son's. "Your seal has been tampered with. We'll need to fix that as well."

Naruto crossed his arms, a defensive gesture that made him look even younger than his twelve years. "Why should I trust you now? You abandoned me."

The words struck Kushina like physical blows, each one landing precisely where her guilt lay heaviest. "I know," she said quietly. "And I will spend the rest of my life trying to make that right, if you'll let me. But right now, we need to get your team to safety."

With gentle efficiency, she lifted Sasuke's limp form. The Uchiha's skin burned with fever, the curse mark pulsing with malevolent energy. "Sakura, stay close to Naruto. We'll head straight for the tower at the center of the forest."

As they prepared to move, Naruto's gaze caught and held his mother's. The hurt and betrayal in those blue eyes—eyes so like her own—cut Kushina to the quick. But there was something else there too, something desperately vulnerable.

"Did you ever" Naruto swallowed hard. "Did you ever want me at all?"

Kushina's composure cracked, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. "Every day," she whispered fiercely. "Every moment of every day, I wanted you. Keeping my distance was the hardest thing I've ever done." She shifted Sasuke carefully to free one hand, reaching out as if to touch Naruto's cheek before letting it fall away, respecting the boundary of his anger. "I watched you grow from the shadows. Saw your first steps, heard your first words. Celebrated every triumph and ached for every tear."

"But you were never there," Naruto said, the simple truth of it hanging between them like a physical barrier.

"No," Kushina agreed, her voice thick with regret. "I wasn't. And nothing can change that. But I'm here now, Naruto. If you'll have me."

Before Naruto could respond, a crash sounded through the forest to their left. Kushina tensed, chakra chains manifesting once more as she positioned herself protectively in front of the genin.

But the figure that emerged from the underbrush wasn't Orochimaru returning. Instead, a tall man with long white hair and distinctive red face markings strode into the clearing, a massive scroll strapped to his back.

"Impeccable timing as always, Jiraiya," Kushina said, relief evident in her voice.

"Would've been here sooner if someone hadn't insisted on going ahead alone," the newcomer—Jiraiya—grumbled, surveying the scene with sharp eyes. "Looks like I missed all the fun."

"Orochimaru was here," Kushina explained tensely. "He's marked Sasuke with a cursed seal and disrupted Naruto's chakra network."

Jiraiya's gaze shifted to Naruto, something like wistfulness flashing across his features before being replaced by analytical focus. "The kid knows, I take it?" At Kushina's nod, he sighed heavily. "Well, that complicates things. But we've got bigger problems. I've found something in the archives—ancient scrolls that mention the Gods of Destruction. Specifically, what happens when their energy manifests in the mortal realm."

Kushina's face paled. "And?"

"It's not good," Jiraiya replied grimly. "The last time it happened, three thousand years ago, entire continents were rearranged." He glanced at Naruto, his expression softening. "But we've got one advantage they didn't have back then."

"What's that?" Naruto asked, speaking directly to the white-haired stranger for the first time.

Jiraiya grinned, the expression transforming his serious face into something much warmer. "You, kid. You're not just destruction energy in human form. You're also the most unpredictable, hardheaded ninja I've ever met—and I knew your mother when she was your age."

Despite everything—the revelations, the hurt, the betrayal—Naruto felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward. There was something about the big, brash man that inspired confidence.

"C'mon," Jiraiya said, gesturing for them to follow. "Let's get Wonder Boy here to the medics and fix that seal of yours. Then you and I need to have a long talk about cosmic energy and why you shouldn't blow up planets, no matter how satisfying it might feel in the moment."

As they moved through the Forest of Death toward the central tower, Naruto found himself walking beside his mother for the first time in his conscious memory. The anger still simmered beneath his skin, alongside hurt and confusion. But there was something else there too—a fragile, tentative hope that perhaps, just perhaps, he wasn't as alone as he'd always believed.

Above them, unseen in the forest canopy, a figure observed their departure with calculating yellow eyes. Orochimaru's pale fingers traced the bark of an ancient tree, leaving a faint sizzle as his acidic chakra marked his passage.

"A God of Destruction's son," he mused to himself, tongue flicking out to taste the lingering energy in the air. "What a fascinating development. I came for Uchiha eyes but may have found something far more valuable."

With sinuous grace, he melted into the shadows, plans already reforming around this unexpected prize. The Chunin Exams had just become infinitely more interesting.

In the tower at the center of the Forest of Death, Naruto sat cross-legged on a sleeping mat, shirt removed to expose the complex seal on his stomach. Jiraiya crouched before him, fingers tracing the air just above the black markings as he analyzed Orochimaru's handiwork.

"Five-Pronged Seal layered on top of the original Eight Trigrams," the Sannin muttered, brow furrowed in concentration. "Sloppy but effective. Created a chakra imbalance that's affecting both your regular jutsu and the Nine-Tails' chakra."

"What about the other energy?" Naruto asked hesitantly, still uncomfortable with the concept of divine power flowing through his veins.

Jiraiya's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Interestingly, Orochimaru's seal barely touched that. Probably because it doesn't flow through your chakra network the same way. Destruction energy exists on a different plane—it's part of your cellular structure, your very DNA."

Across the small room, Kushina sat with her back against the wall, watching the interaction with hungry eyes, as if trying to memorize every detail of her son's face after twelve years of distant observation.

"Can you fix it?" she asked. "The seal, I mean."

"Of course I can fix it," Jiraiya huffed, feigning offense. "Who do you think helped the Fourth design it in the first place?" He flexed his fingers dramatically. "This won't be pleasant, kid. Brace yourself."

Before Naruto could respond, Jiraiya's fingertips slammed into his stomach, blue chakra flaring around each point of contact. "Five-Part Unseal!"

Pain exploded through Naruto's core, white-hot and electric. He gasped, back arching involuntarily as the competing seals rebalanced themselves. For a moment, his vision flooded with crimson as the Nine-Tails' chakra surged forward, freed from its additional constraints.

Then, unexpectedly, the purple energy rose to meet it. Where the two powers touched, they didn't conflict as everyone had feared—instead, they began to harmonize, swirling together in a dance of crimson and violet that sent strange, conflicting sensations through Naruto's body.

"What's happening?" Kushina demanded, rushing forward as Naruto's eyes flickered between blue, red, and violet.

"Fascinating," Jiraiya murmured, watching the energies interact through his specialized sensor techniques. "They're not fighting each other as we thought they might. They're adapting. Finding equilibrium."

Inside Naruto's mindscape, the Nine-Tailed Fox pressed against the bars of its cage, watching with ancient eyes as the purple energy danced through the flooded corridor.

"**So the kit finally knows**," it rumbled, tails swishing behind it. "**About time. Secrets fester like wounds.**"

The energy pulsed, almost questioning.

"**No, I won't hurt him**," the Fox replied to the unspoken concern. "**His suffering offends me—he is my vessel, after all. And you you are merely claiming what is yours by birthright.**"

Another pulse, stronger this time.

"**Yes, I know what will happen when he fully awakens to his divine heritage**," the Nine-Tails acknowledged, settling onto its haunches. "**The question is, does he have the strength to contain both of us without destroying himself—and this entire world along with him?**"

In the physical realm, Naruto slumped forward, caught by Jiraiya's steady hands. The visible energy fluctuations subsided, leaving him looking deceptively normal—just an exhausted twelve-year-old boy with whisker marks on his cheeks.

"He needs rest," Jiraiya said, lowering Naruto gently to the sleeping mat. "That was more taxing than I expected."

Kushina moved to her son's side, hand hovering uncertainly above his forehead before finally, tentatively, brushing back a strand of blonde hair. "Will he be alright?" The question contained multitudes—was he physically okay, would he ever forgive her, could he survive the cosmic heritage awakening in his blood.

"He's strong," Jiraiya replied, answering all of her questions at once. "Stronger than either of us were at his age. He'll adapt."

As if in response to their conversation, Naruto stirred, blue eyes fluttering open. For a moment, disorientation clouded his features. Then memory returned, and with it, the weight of everything he'd learned in the forest.

"Hey, kid," Jiraiya said, voice gentler than his rough appearance suggested. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I got sat on by a summoning toad," Naruto groaned, pushing himself upright despite Kushina's protective noise of concern. His gaze shifted to her, guarded but no longer burning with the same raw hurt. "Is Sasuke okay?"

"The medical team is working on him," she answered, relieved to have a neutral topic. "The curse mark is contained for now, though removing it completely will require more specialized techniques."

Naruto nodded, then asked the question that had been churning in his mind since the forest. "So if my father is this God of Destruction guy what does that make me?"

Jiraiya and Kushina exchanged glances laden with concern.

"It makes you Naruto Uzumaki," Kushina said firmly. "My son. A shinobi of the Hidden Leaf. The jinchūriki of the Nine-Tailed Fox." Her voice softened. "And yes, the partial inheritor of cosmic destruction energy. But which of those aspects defines you—that's for you to decide."

"But Orochimaru said—"

"Orochimaru says a lot of things," Jiraiya interrupted, "most of them calculated to manipulate and harm. Don't give that snake the power to define who you are."

Naruto fell silent, processing. Outside, night had fallen, stars visible through the small window of their tower room. His gaze drifted upward, wondering for the first time if his father was out there somewhere, among those distant lights.

"These dreams I've been having," he said finally. "About destroying planets and cosmic stuff. Are those are those memories? His memories?"

"More likely genetic memory," Jiraiya answered, following Naruto's gaze to the stars. "Gods of Destruction pass down knowledge and power through bloodlines—at least according to the scrolls I found. What you're experiencing are echoes of his experiences, filtered through your human consciousness."

"Will I" Naruto swallowed hard. "Will I end up like him? Wanting to destroy things?"

The naked fear in his voice broke Kushina's heart. She knelt beside him, still maintaining a respectful distance but close enough that he could feel her warmth. "No, Naruto. You are not destined to become like him. You have choices he never had—human connections, human love."

"How can you be sure?" Naruto challenged, but there was more desperation than defiance in his tone.

"Because I know you," Kushina answered simply. "I've watched you grow up from afar. Seen your kindness, your determination to protect others, your boundless capacity for forgiveness." Her voice broke slightly. "Even now, after learning how I failed you, you're not pushing me away entirely. That alone proves you're more than your divine heritage."

Naruto stared at her, searching her face for deception and finding only raw sincerity. The anger that had sustained him through the initial shock was ebbing, leaving behind complicated questions and a lifetime of longing.

"I want to know everything," he said finally. "About him. About you. About why you really stayed away all these years."

Relief flooded Kushina's features. "I'll tell you everything," she promised. "No more secrets."

"And I," Jiraiya interjected, rising to his feet with exaggerated dignity, "will give you two some privacy for that conversation, while I check on our Uchiha friend and make sure Orochimaru hasn't left any nasty surprises for us."

As the door closed behind the Sannin, Kushina and Naruto faced each other across twelve years of absence—mother and son, human and half-god, bound by blood and separated by choices both had been too young to make.

"Start at the beginning," Naruto said softly. "How did you even meet a god?"

Kushina took a deep breath, and began the story she'd kept hidden for so long. Outside, stars continued their slow dance across the heavens, while somewhere in the vast cosmos beyond, a God of Destruction turned restlessly in his sleep, dreaming of crimson hair and a boy with his eyes.

The arena blazed under Konoha's unforgiving sun, a perfect circle of packed earth surrounded by thousands of spectators whose collective breath seemed to hang suspended in the summer air. Dust devils whirled and died in the fighting grounds, stirred by an expectant breeze that carried the tang of anticipation. The final stage of the Chunin Exams had begun.

Naruto Uzumaki stood in the competitors' box, fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against the railing. Sweat beaded along his hairline despite the morning hour, trickling down his neck and disappearing beneath the collar of his orange jacket. Below, the proctor's voice rang out, announcing the first match that would pit Sasuke against a Sand genin with bloodthirsty eyes and a massive gourd strapped to his back.

"You should conserve your energy," Shikamaru drawled beside him, sharp eyes missing nothing despite his slouched posture. "Your match isn't for hours."

"I'm fine," Naruto muttered, but his white-knuckled grip on the railing told a different story.

Truth was, he hadn't slept more than a handful of hours since the Forest of Death. Since learning the truth. Since discovering the monster inside him wasn't just the Nine-Tails, but something far more cosmic in nature.

In the month leading up to the finals, Kushina had tried to explain everything—about Beerus, about their brief affair, about the impossible nature of Naruto's very existence. Jiraiya had taken over his training, focusing on helping him access the Nine-Tails' chakra without triggering the destructive energy that seemed to lie in wait just beneath his skin.

"Think of them as separate channels," the Sannin had explained, drawing diagrams in the dirt beside a secluded waterfall. "The Nine-Tails' chakra flows through your established pathways. The destruction energy exists at the cellular level—it's infused into your very being."

"So how do I keep them from mixing?" Naruto had asked, watching violet sparks dance between his fingers whenever he tried to channel the fox's power.

Jiraiya's face had grown serious. "That's the thing, kid. I'm not sure you can. Not forever. They're both part of you."

Now, as Sasuke's match unfolded below in a blur of explosive speed and crackling Chidori, Naruto felt both energies churning inside him, responding to his nerves, his excitement, his fear. The rush of power felt good—too good—like a drug tugging at the edges of his consciousness, promising release from the weight of expectations and revelations.

"You're doing it again," Shikamaru's lazy drawl cut through his thoughts. The Nara heir nodded toward Naruto's hand, where faint purple energy crackled between his knuckles.

Naruto jerked his hand away from the railing, shoving it deep into his pocket. "Sorry," he muttered, focusing on his breathing the way Kushina had taught him. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Visualize the energies separating, flowing in parallel rather than converging.

From the special jōnin section across the arena, he felt Kushina's eyes on him—a mother's watchful gaze that still felt foreign after years of solitude. Beside her sat Kakashi, his visible eye seemingly focused on Sasuke's match while his attention remained split, ever aware of his other student's precarious control.

The crowd roared as Sasuke's match ended in a technical victory, though the wild-eyed Sand genin was escorted from the field without a scratch, his sand armor having prevented the full impact of the Uchiha's lightning-fast attacks. Something about the redhead's vacant stare sent a chill down Naruto's spine, a recognition of something kindred and dangerous.

Matches blurred together after that. Shikamaru's brilliant tactical surrender. Kankuro's forfeit before even taking the field. Time compressed and expanded like a living thing, rushing forward and then stretching endlessly until finally, inevitably, the proctor's voice rang out:

"Next match: Naruto Uzumaki versus Neji Hyūga!"

The roar of the crowd seemed distant, muffled by the sudden rushing in Naruto's ears. Across the arena, he caught Kushina's eye. She nodded once, her face a mask of composed confidence that couldn't quite hide the worry beneath.

"Kick his ass," Shikamaru offered with a lazy smirk as Naruto moved toward the stairs.

The descent to the arena floor felt like walking into another dimension—sound amplified, colors intensified, time slowing to a hyper-aware crawl. Neji already stood in the center of the fighting ground, pale eyes coldly dismissive as they tracked Naruto's approach.

"You should forfeit now," the Hyūga prodigy said when they faced each other across the proctor's outstretched arm. "Fate has already determined the outcome of this match."

Naruto's lips quirked in a smile that held more edge than humor. "Funny thing about fate," he replied, dropping into a fighting stance. "I've never been good at doing what I'm told."

"Begin!" The proctor slashed his arm downward and leapt clear of the impending clash.

Neji moved like liquid mercury, his Gentle Fist style precise and devastating as he closed the distance between them. Naruto barely managed to evade the first flurry of strikes, each one aimed at critical chakra points that would shut down his network piece by piece.

"You fight against the inevitable," Neji remarked, pressing his advantage with mechanical efficiency. "Just as you fight against the fate assigned to you at birth."

A palm strike caught Naruto's shoulder, sending him skidding backward in a cloud of dust. Pain radiated down his arm, the chakra point sealed with surgical precision.

"You think I don't see it?" Neji continued, his Byakugan active now, the veins around his eyes bulging with concentrated chakra. "The two forms of energy within you, fighting for dominance? One beast locked within a human cage, and the other" He hesitated, genuine confusion flickering across his normally composed features. "The other is like nothing I've ever seen."

Naruto surged forward, creating a dozen shadow clones that attacked from all angles. "You don't know anything about me!"

"I know enough," Neji replied, dispelling the clones one by one with precise strikes, his 360-degree vision leaving no blind spots. "A failure will always be a failure. Just as a branch member will always serve the main house. Our paths are determined before we draw first breath."

The words struck deeper than any physical blow, tapping into Naruto's newfound uncertainty about his own identity, his own destiny. If Neji was right—if fate was immutable—then what was he fighting against? What chance did he have to become something other than what his divine heritage demanded?

Another strike connected, then another, chakra points sealing in rapid succession until Naruto could barely mold enough energy to create a single shadow clone. He stumbled, knees hitting the dirt as Neji circled him with predatory confidence.

"This is the reality," the Hyūga declared, gesturing to Naruto's fallen form. "This is the truth that all your hard work and determination cannot change."

In the stands, Kushina half-rose from her seat, knuckles white as she gripped the railing. "Come on, Naruto," she whispered. "You're more than your bloodline. More than fate."

As if hearing her across the distance, Naruto's head lifted. His chest heaved with exertion, blood trickling from a split lip, but his eyes burned with renewed determination.

"You think you've got me all figured out," he said, pushing himself to his feet despite the protest of sealed chakra points. "That my path is already set because of what's inside me." He laughed, the sound holding equal parts defiance and genuine amusement. "Let me tell you something about destiny, Neji. It's just a word people use when they're too scared to change."

"Brave words from someone who can barely stand," Neji replied, but something uncertain flickered behind his confident facade.

"You're right about one thing," Naruto admitted, wiping blood from his chin. "I do have two different powers inside me. Want to see what happens when I use them both?"

Deep within Naruto's mindscape, the Nine-Tailed Fox stirred in its cage, crimson energy seeping through the bars in tendrils of malevolent chakra. Simultaneously, the purple energy that had been his birthright awakened, rising to meet the fox's power not in conflict, but in harmony.

"This is dangerous, kit," the Fox growled, watching the swirling convergence of red and violet. "Even I don't know what happens when these energies fully combine."

"I guess we'll find out together," Naruto replied, reaching for both sources of power simultaneously for the first time.

In the physical world, Neji took an involuntary step back as chakra began to visibly emanate from Naruto's body—not the expected blue energy of a normal shinobi, but a swirling vortex of crimson and violet that cracked the earth beneath his feet and sent dust spiraling upward in a miniature cyclone.

"What is this?" Neji whispered, Byakugan straining to process the impossible chakra signature unfurling before him.

The sealed points in Naruto's network burst open, energy surging through them with such force that his entire body glowed with power. His whisker marks deepened, eyes shifting between crimson slits and glowing violet as both the Nine-Tails and his divine heritage manifested simultaneously.

In the stands, pandemonium erupted. Civilians clutched at their chests, suddenly struggling to breathe in the presence of such concentrated power. Shinobi reached for weapons instinctively, responding to a threat they couldn't name but could feel in their bones—the presence of something ancient and apocalyptic.

"Naruto, control it!" Kushina's voice cut through the chaos, but her son couldn't hear her over the roaring in his ears, the twin songs of destruction and rage that harmonized into a symphony of power unlike anything the shinobi world had ever witnessed.

Across the universe, in a domain that existed beyond normal space and time, Beerus's eyes snapped open. The God of Destruction sat bolt upright in his massive bed, ears flattened against his skull, every hair on his body standing on end.

"Whis," he growled, and his attendant materialized instantly beside him, staff already glowing with ethereal light.

"You felt it too, my lord?" Whis asked, though the question was clearly rhetorical. Even he, typically unflappable, appeared mildly concerned. "The energy signature on Earth has evolved."

"That's putting it mildly," Beerus snarled, floating up from his bed, destruction energy already crackling around his slender form. "Something impossible is happening, and I want to know what."

Whis inclined his head, tapping his staff twice against the crystalline floor. A projection appeared above it—a swirling globe that resolved into the image of Earth, then zoomed in with impossible precision on a circular arena where a blonde boy radiated twin auras of crimson and violet.

"As I suspected," Whis said quietly. "Your energy signature, Lord Beerus, combined with something else. Something unexpectedly compatible with destruction energy."

Beerus stared at the image, golden eyes narrowing to slits. "This is what you've been hinting at for months, isn't it? What you've been monitoring while pretending not to?"

"I merely observe cosmic anomalies, my lord. It's part of my duties."

"Don't play games with me, Whis." Beerus's tail lashed behind him, destruction energy intensifying until the air around him warped with power. "That boy he carries my energy signature. How is that possible?"

Whis smiled enigmatically. "I believe you already know the answer to that question, Lord Beerus. Though you've chosen not to acknowledge it until now."

Memories flooded Beerus's mind—crimson hair like liquid flame, violet eyes that challenged him without fear, a month of stolen moments with a mortal woman who had somehow pierced the calculated indifference of a God of Destruction.

"Kushina," he whispered, the name unfamiliar on his tongue after so many years.

"Indeed," Whis agreed, enlarging the image to show a red-haired woman in the stands, her face a mask of concern as she watched the boy. "And it appears the two of you created something unprecedented—a half-mortal child with the power of both a Tailed Beast and a God of Destruction. Quite the overachiever, my lord."

Beerus's expression shifted from shock to calculation to something like dread. "This is wrong, Whis. Gods of Destruction aren't meant to procreate with mortals. The energies are incompatible."

"Evidently not as incompatible as previously believed," Whis observed, gesturing to the image where the boy's dual energies continued to intensify. "Though I must say, the situation appears increasingly unstable. If he fully manifests both powers simultaneously without proper training"

"The planet will be obliterated," Beerus finished grimly. "Along with half that solar system."

Whis nodded. "Precisely the sort of cosmic imbalance that would require a God of Destruction's intervention. How ironic."

Beerus stared at the projection, at the face of a boy who unmistakably carried his bloodline. The revelation should have meant nothing to him—gods didn't form attachments, particularly not to mortal offspring. He should have been angry at the disruption to cosmic order, nothing more.

Yet something unfamiliar tugged at him, something he didn't have a name for after millennia of calculated detachment.

"Prepare for immediate departure," he ordered, turning away from the image. "It seems I have unfinished business on Earth."

The chakra-infused uppercut caught Neji squarely under the chin, lifting the Hyūga prodigy off his feet and sending him arcing through the air in a spray of blood and spittle. He hit the ground twenty feet away, rolling to a stop in a cloud of dust and disbelief.

Naruto stood at the epicenter of a crater, the earth scorched and fused to glass beneath his feet. The dual energies continued to swirl around him, but he'd managed to harness them, to direct them with conscious intent rather than allowing them to consume him entirely.

"I told you," he said, voice reverberating with dual tones as Neji struggled to rise. "I make my own destiny."

In the stunned silence that followed, even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Then, slowly, the crowd began to cheer—first a scattered few, then building to a roar as they witnessed the dead-last Academy student, the ostracized container of the Nine-Tails, triumph over the year's most promising genin.

Medics rushed onto the field to attend to Neji while the proctor approached Naruto cautiously, arm raised to declare him the victor. Before he could speak, however, a new sound cut through the celebratory clamor—a sound like reality itself being torn open.

The sky above the arena darkened without clouds, an impossible eclipse blotting out the sun in an instant. The temperature plummeted, breath fogging in the suddenly frigid air. The very atoms of the atmosphere seemed to vibrate with anticipation, as if the world itself was holding its breath in the presence of something beyond mortal comprehension.

"What the—" The proctor's question died on his lips as a beam of light punched through the darkness, connecting heaven and earth in a pillar of radiance that touched down at the edge of the fighting grounds.

Within that light stood two figures—one tall and slender with blue skin and white hair, carrying a staff that pulsed with inner light; the other smaller but radiating such concentrated power that the air around him warped and rippled like a heat mirage.

As the light faded, the second figure became clear—slender and feline in appearance, with purple skin, large pointed ears, and golden eyes that surveyed the arena with casual disdain. He wore ornate clothing befitting his station, gold and blue fabrics that seemed to shimmer with otherworldly iridescence.

"So this is where all the commotion is coming from," he drawled, voice carrying effortlessly across the now-silent arena. "How disappointingly primitive."

In the jōnin stands, Kushina Uzumaki froze, blood draining from her face as she stared at the being she'd never thought to see again in this lifetime. "Beerus," she whispered, the name falling from her lips like a prayer or a curse.

The God of Destruction's ears twitched at the sound, head turning with preternatural precision to lock eyes with her across the distance. For a fraction of a second, something unreadable flickered across his features—recognition, perhaps, or something deeper that gods weren't supposed to experience.

Then his attention shifted to Naruto, who stood paralyzed in the center of the arena, the dual energies still swirling around him in a corona of power. Boy and deity stared at each other, mirror images separated by mortality and millennia—the same violet energy, the same piercing gaze, the same capacity for world-ending destruction wrapped in deceptively slender packages.

"Lord Beerus," Whis murmured, tapping his staff gently against the ground. "Perhaps we should continue this reunion somewhere less public?"

Too late. The first explosive notes of Orochimaru's invasion pierced the stunned silence—paper bombs detonating along the arena's upper rim, genjutsu settling over civilian spectators like a stifling blanket, drawing them into forced sleep.

Sand and Sound ninja erupted from concealed positions, their coordinated attack momentarily faltering as they registered the cosmic newcomers. On the Kage platform, the Third Hokage found himself face-to-face with the supposed Kazekage, whose melting features revealed Orochimaru's pale visage beneath.

"My, my," the Snake Sannin purred, golden eyes gleaming with scientific fascination as he took in Beerus's arrival. "The cosmic father returns. How utterly fascinating. This experiment just became infinitely more valuable."

Chaos erupted across the arena. Jōnin engaged enemy shinobi in blurs of lethal speed, civilian evacuation protocols activated in well-rehearsed sequences, and at the center of it all, Naruto stood frozen, staring at the being whose blood ran in his veins, whose power surged through his cells, whose abandonment had shaped his entire existence.

Beerus met his gaze without flinching, head tilted slightly in what might have been curiosity. "So," he said, voice carrying despite the surrounding chaos, "you're what all this fuss is about."

Before Naruto could respond, a flash of crimson interposed itself between them—Kushina, materializing in a Body Flicker so fast it left afterimages, her stance protective and her eyes blazing with emotions too complex to name.

"You will not touch him," she declared, chakra chains erupting from her back in a golden halo that stood in stark contrast to the violet energy still emanating from her son.

Beerus's eyes widened fractionally, the first genuine surprise he'd shown since his arrival. "Kushina Uzumaki," he said, the name rolling off his tongue with remembered familiarity. "Still rushing headlong into situations beyond your control, I see."

"And you're still an arrogant, self-important cosmic cat with delusions of godhood," she shot back, chains coiling around her like serpents poised to strike. "Some things never change."

The God of Destruction's lips curled into what might have been a smile or a snarl. "Twelve years, and that sharp tongue hasn't dulled in the slightest."

"Neither has my resolve," Kushina replied, gaze unwavering despite the apocalyptic power standing before her. "I will die before I let you harm him."

Beerus's ear twitched in irritation. "Harm him? Is that what you think I'm here for?"

Before Kushina could respond, the ground beneath them shuddered and cracked, a massive three-headed snake erupting through the arena floor in a shower of earth and debris. Atop its central head stood Orochimaru, arms spread wide as if welcoming honored guests.

"How rude of me to interrupt this touching family reunion," the Sannin called down, his unnatural grin stretching wider than human anatomy should allow. "But I simply couldn't resist introducing myself to our distinguished visitor. Orochimaru of the Sannin, at your service, Lord God of Destruction."

Beerus didn't even bother to look up, his attention still fixed on Kushina and, beyond her, Naruto. "Whis, deal with this annoyance."

"As you wish, my lord," Whis replied cheerfully, tapping his staff once against the ground.

Time seemed to hiccup. One moment the massive snake and its master loomed overhead; the next, they were simply elsewhere, transported to the outskirts of the village in the blink of an eye, confusion evident even on Orochimaru's usually composed features.

"Now then," Beerus continued as if there had been no interruption, "we were discussing the boy."

"There's nothing to discuss," Kushina insisted, though her chains had lowered fractionally, responding to the fact that Beerus had made no aggressive moves. "He's my son. He's lived his entire life without you, and he'll continue to do so."

"Your son," Beerus repeated, golden eyes sliding past her to where Naruto still stood, the dual energies finally beginning to recede as shock replaced battle adrenaline. "And mine, it would seem, despite all cosmic laws to the contrary."

Naruto's breath caught in his throat. Hearing it from Kushina and Orochimaru had been one thing—hearing the confirmation from the deity himself made it real in a way nothing else could have.

"You abandoned us," he said, the words escaping before he could think better of them. "You left and never looked back."

Beerus's eyes narrowed, something dangerous flickering in their golden depths. "I am a God of Destruction, boy. I don't form attachments to mortal worlds or their inhabitants. I existed for millennia before your birth and will continue long after your brief candle is extinguished."

"Then why are you here?" Naruto challenged, taking a step forward despite Kushina's protective gesture. "If I mean nothing to you, why bother showing up at all?"

The question hung in the air between them, unanswerable in its simplicity. Around them, the invasion continued—shinobi clashed on rooftops, civilians fled through prearranged evacuation routes, a massive barrier jutsu enclosed the Hokage and Orochimaru in lethal combat atop a nearby building. Yet in the eye of this storm, time seemed suspended as god and demi-god regarded each other across an unbridgeable gulf of understanding.

"Your energy signature threatens cosmic stability," Beerus said finally, falling back on cold pragmatism. "A half-mortal channeling destruction energy alongside a Tailed Beast's chakra is unprecedented. The potential consequences extend far beyond this insignificant planet."

"So I'm just a problem to be solved," Naruto concluded, bitter disappointment washing through him despite his best efforts. What had he expected? Remorse? Recognition? Some sign that this cosmic entity gave a damn about the son he never knew he had?

"You're an anomaly," Beerus corrected, his gaze sharpening. "One that requires investigation before I decide whether intervention is necessary."

"What kind of intervention?" Kushina demanded, chakra chains flaring brighter in response to the implied threat.

Beerus's ear twitched in annoyance. "That depends entirely on the boy's control over his heritage." His gaze locked with Naruto's once more, searching. "Tell me, child, have you experienced the joy of destruction yet? The euphoria of unmaking what is deemed unworthy of existence?"

Naruto flinched, memories of his dreams flooding back—the planets reduced to cosmic dust, the rushing pleasure of unleashed power. "No," he lied, but his averted gaze told a different story.

"Hmm," Beerus hummed, unconvinced. "The truth reveals itself in time. As does one's nature."

"His nature is his own to determine," Kushina interjected fiercely. "Not predestined by your blood or the Fox's chakra."

"Such charming mortal idealism," Beerus replied, though the mockery in his tone seemed forced, as if he wasn't entirely convinced of his own dismissal. "We shall see."

Before the standoff could escalate further, a new presence manifested beside them—Jiraiya, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by guarded wariness as he took in the cosmic visitors.

"Hate to break up the family drama," the Toad Sage said, "but we've got bigger problems. The One-Tail is about to fully manifest on the village outskirts, and our jinchūriki containment teams are spread thin with the invasion."

Naruto's head snapped up. "Gaara," he breathed, remembering the redheaded Sand genin with raccoon-ringed eyes and a aura of barely contained bloodlust.

"You know him?" Jiraiya asked.

"We fought in the preliminaries," Naruto replied, already moving toward the arena exit, momentarily forgetting the cosmic standoff in the face of a more immediate threat. "He's like me—a jinchūriki. But different. Wrong somehow."

"His seal is fundamentally flawed," Jiraiya confirmed grimly. "Designed to allow partial manifestation of the One-Tail's consciousness even while contained. It's a ticking time bomb disguised as a weapon."

Beerus watched this exchange with narrowed eyes, tail lashing behind him in what might have been irritation or interest. "A Tailed Beast," he murmured, glancing at Whis. "Those primitive chakra constructs the mortals created from the Ten-Tails."

"Fragments of a greater power," Whis agreed, "though not without their own destructive capability. This world has an interesting approach to weaponizing cosmic energy."

Naruto hesitated at the arena exit, looking back at the divine beings and his mother, torn between the immediate threat and the cosmic revelations still unfolding.

"Go," Kushina urged, never taking her eyes off Beerus. "Help your friend. I'll deal with this."

"He's not my friend," Naruto replied, but the objection lacked conviction. Something in Gaara's isolated existence had resonated with him from their first meeting—a shared loneliness, a kindred experience of being feared for what dwelled within.

"Even better reason to help him," Kushina said with a sad smile. "You understand him in ways no one else can."

Naruto nodded once, decision made. As he turned to leave, Beerus's voice stopped him cold.

"Running toward danger rather than away," the God of Destruction observed, something unreadable flickering in his golden eyes. "Interfering in matters that don't concern you, for the sake of someone who would gladly kill you given the chance." He made a sound that might have been a scoff or a chuckle. "How utterly, predictably human."

"Is that supposed to be an insult?" Naruto fired back, meeting that ancient gaze without flinching. "Because from where I'm standing, being human seems a hell of a lot better than being a god who doesn't care about anything or anyone."

With that parting shot, he vanished in a blur of orange and yellow, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

"Impertinent brat," Beerus muttered, but the words lacked real venom.

"He gets that from both of us," Kushina replied, the ghost of a smile touching her lips despite the gravity of the situation.

The God of Destruction's eyes snapped back to her, narrowing dangerously. "Don't mistake this visit for sentiment, Kushina Uzumaki. I'm here to assess a cosmic anomaly, nothing more."

"Keep telling yourself that," she challenged, crossing her arms. "But we both know if that were true, you'd have sent Whis alone to investigate. You wouldn't have bothered coming yourself."

Beerus's tail lashed behind him, destruction energy crackling at his fingertips. "You forget to whom you speak, mortal."

"No," Kushina replied, meeting his gaze without fear, just as she had twelve years ago. "I remember exactly who you are, Beerus. The question is, do you?"

For a moment, it seemed the God of Destruction might unleash his cosmic power right there, reducing the arena and everything in it to subatomic particles. Then, unexpectedly, his energy receded, and something almost like respect flickered across his features.

"Your son is heading toward a fully manifested Tailed Beast," he said, changing the subject with deliberate abruptness. "A being whose power, while primitive compared to my own, is still beyond what a half-trained genin should face alone."

"Naruto's stronger than you think," Kushina replied, though concern creased her brow.

"Perhaps," Beerus conceded. "But his control over both energy sources is rudimentary at best. If they fully synchronize again without proper guidance" He left the consequence unspoken.

"Then what do you suggest?" Jiraiya interjected, watching this exchange with calculating eyes. "Since you're suddenly so concerned about his welfare."

Beerus shot the Sannin an irritated glance. "I'm concerned about cosmic stability, not the boy's welfare. Though in this case, they happen to align." He turned back to Kushina, expression unreadable. "We will observe the child's handling of this situation. His choices. His control. Based on what we see, I will decide whether intervention is necessary."

"What kind of intervention?" Kushina pressed again, voice hardening.

Beerus smiled, the expression neither kind nor cruel, merely pragmatic. "That depends entirely on him."

As the trio of cosmic deity, divine attendant, and fiery-haired mother moved to follow Naruto's path toward the village outskirts, the clash of divine and mortal worlds hung in the balance—with a twelve-year-old boy carrying the blood of both standing at the fulcrum of forces beyond comprehension.

On the horizon, a massive tanuki form of sand and malice rose above the treeline, its roars shaking the very foundations of Konoha as the One-Tail finally broke free of its human prison. And racing toward this apocalyptic threat was Naruto Uzumaki—son of a goddess in spirit if not title, and a god who had never wanted to be a father.

The stage was set for worlds to collide in ways that would reshape not just Naruto's destiny, but the very fabric of reality itself.

Updating Soon.....