The Konoha Orphanage was not, by any reasonable standard, a terrible place.
It was clean, adequately funded, and staffed by people who genuinely tried their best to care for the dozens of children left parentless by war, disease, and the occasional giant monster attack. The matron, a stern woman named Haruki Tanaka, had been running the institution for twenty-three years and had successfully raised hundreds of children into functional members of society.
She had never, in all that time, encountered a child quite like Naruto Uzumaki.
"He's... unusual," she said carefully, sitting across from the Third Hokage in her cramped office three weeks after the Nine-Tails attack. "Not problematic, exactly. Just... unusual."
Hiruzen, who had aged approximately ten years in the past three weeks, rubbed his temples. "Unusual how?"
"Well, for starters, he never cries."
"That seems like a positive thing."
"Lord Third, babies cry. It's how they communicate. Hunger, discomfort, fear—crying is normal and healthy. Naruto hasn't cried once since he arrived here. He just... looks at things. Studies them. With those big blue eyes." Haruki shuddered slightly. "It's unnerving."
"Perhaps he's simply a calm child."
"He's a newborn. Newborns aren't calm. They're tiny chaos machines that exist solely to deprive adults of sleep." Haruki pulled out a folder filled with notes. "There's also the matter of his appetite."
"His appetite?"
"He eats constantly. Three times what a normal infant his age should consume. Our formula budget has tripled since he arrived, and he's still hungry. The doctors have examined him repeatedly and can't find anything wrong—he's not sick, he's not malnourished, he's just... hungry."
Inside the seal, nine bijuu exchanged guilty glances.
"I told you the chakra integration would increase his metabolic needs," Matatabi said accusingly.
"You said nothing of the sort," Kurama shot back.
"I implied it!"
"Implication isn't saying!"
"Brothers, sisters," Kokuō interrupted, "perhaps we should focus on the fact that our host's caretaker is becoming suspicious."
The bijuu had spent the past three weeks learning to navigate their new shared existence, and it had been... challenging. The mindscape had evolved from a simple sewer into something more complex—a vast network of interconnected chambers, each decorated according to its primary occupant's preferences. Kurama's domain was all dark forests and storm clouds. Shukaku's was an endless desert. Saiken's was a swamp that perpetually dripped with something that might have been rain or might have been tears.
The common area, where they gathered to observe the outside world through Naruto's senses, was a neutral space that somehow managed to be all of these environments at once. It was deeply confusing from a spatial perspective, but the bijuu had seen stranger things in their centuries of existence.
"The increased chakra integration is necessary," Gyūki said reasonably. "If we don't merge our power with the seal gradually, it'll destabilize and kill him. The food is just fuel for the process."
"Then we'll make sure he gets more food," Son Gokū said. "Problem solved."
"And how do you propose we do that? We're sealed inside an infant. We can't exactly go grocery shopping."
"We could... influence things."
"Influence things how?"
"I don't know! I'm a giant monkey made of lava! Subtlety isn't exactly my strong suit!"
The argument might have continued indefinitely, but it was interrupted by a sensation that made all nine bijuu freeze.
Someone was approaching Naruto's crib. Someone with hostile intent.
Haruki had stepped out of her office to check on the children, leaving Hiruzen to review her reports. The Hokage was deep in paperwork—a state that had become depressingly familiar—when he felt a subtle shift in the room's ambient chakra.
He was moving before his conscious mind had fully registered the threat, body flickering across the orphanage to Naruto's room in a burst of speed that belied his advanced age. What he found there made his blood run cold.
A man in nondescript clothing was leaning over Naruto's crib, a kunai in his hand and a vacant expression on his face that Hiruzen recognized immediately. Genjutsu. Someone was controlling this person.
"Step away from the child," Hiruzen said, his voice carrying the weight of decades of authority.
The man didn't respond. Didn't even seem to hear. The kunai rose, descending toward the infant who—
Who was staring at the attacker with eyes that glowed red for just a moment.
The man screamed.
It was a sound of pure, primal terror—the kind of scream that emerged when a human mind encountered something so far beyond its comprehension that sanity simply gave up. The kunai clattered to the floor as the man collapsed, clutching his head, still screaming.
Hiruzen moved instantly, securing the attacker and checking on Naruto. The baby was fine. More than fine—he was gurgling happily, waving his tiny fists as if nothing had happened.
"What did you do?" Hiruzen whispered, knowing the infant couldn't understand him.
Inside the seal, the bijuu were having a similar conversation.
"Shukaku!" Matatabi's flames flared with anger. "What did you do?!"
"He was going to hurt the kit!" Shukaku's sand swirled defensively. "I just... showed him things."
"What kind of things?"
"Things. You know. Fears. Nightmares. The endless screaming void of existence." The One-Tail's golden eyes gleamed. "Standard stuff."
"You drove him insane," Saiken said, and for once, the slug didn't sound miserable about it. "That's... actually somewhat impressive."
"I didn't drive him insane! I just... gave him a preview. A taste of what would happen if he touched our host." Shukaku cackled. "The kit is ours. No one touches what's ours."
"When did we decide he was ours?" Kurama demanded. "I never agreed to that."
"You didn't have to agree. It's obvious. He contains us, we protect him. It's basic symbiosis."
"I hate all of you."
"Yes, yes, you've mentioned that. Repeatedly. For three weeks straight." Gyūki turned his attention back to the outside world, where the Hokage was summoning ANBU and the would-be assassin was being dragged away for interrogation. "More importantly, we've just revealed that the kit has some kind of defensive mechanism. The old man is suspicious."
"Let him be suspicious," Son Gokū growled. "If it keeps attackers away, it's worth it."
"And if he decides the kit is too dangerous? Tries to reinforce the seal? Separates us?"
That gave everyone pause. The idea of being separated again, after finally being reunited, was... unpleasant. More unpleasant than any of them wanted to admit.
"We'll be more subtle," Kurama said finally, the words sounding like they were being dragged out of him by force. "Protect the kit without revealing ourselves. Can we do that?"
"Probably," Matatabi said. "We'll have to coordinate. Work together."
"I hate that idea even more than I hate all of you."
"Noted. Now, does anyone have suggestions for subtle protection methods?"
The assassination attempt was traced back to a civilian faction that blamed Naruto for the Nine-Tails attack. How they'd learned the secret Hiruzen had tried so hard to keep was unclear, but the damage was done. Within days, the entire village seemed to know that the "demon child" was living in the orphanage.
The reactions varied. Some people were sympathetic, understanding that an infant couldn't be blamed for the actions of a sealed monster. Others were hateful, seeing only the beast that had killed their loved ones. Most fell somewhere in between, uncomfortable with the child's existence but unwilling to actively harm him.
What none of them understood was that the "demon child" was now protected by nine entities who had decided, despite their better judgment, that he was theirs.
The second assassination attempt came a week later. A masked ninja tried to slip into the orphanage at night, moving with the silence of a trained professional. He made it all the way to Naruto's room before the shadows around the crib came alive.
"Chakra manipulation through the seal," Isobu explained later, as the ninja's screams echoed through the building. "I redirected a tiny amount of power to the environment. Made the darkness... hungry."
"You made shadow tentacles grab a guy and dangle him from the ceiling," Chōmei observed.
"Yes. Hungrily."
The third attempt was stopped by Kokuō, who somehow manipulated the air pressure around an approaching enemy, causing them to pass out from hypoxia before they could get within ten feet of the crib. The fourth was handled by Son Gokū, whose subtle influence over temperature caused an attacker's weapons to become so hot they were impossible to hold. The fifth—
"How many attempts is this?" Haruki demanded, bursting into the Hokage's office with a wild look in her eyes. "Five? Six? I've lost count! And every single time, something impossible happens to stop them!"
"Define impossible," Hiruzen said wearily.
"A man was eaten by his own shadow, Lord Third. Eaten. By a shadow. In the middle of the night. In my orphanage." Haruki slammed a stack of incident reports on his desk. "I don't know what that child is, but he is not normal, and I cannot in good conscience keep endangering the other children by housing him here."
Hiruzen had been expecting this conversation for weeks. In truth, he was surprised it had taken this long.
"Where do you suggest he go?"
"I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. Get him an apartment, assign guards, put him in ANBU headquarters for all I know. Just get him out of my orphanage before someone else gets eaten by their own shadow."
Inside the seal, the bijuu were experiencing something none of them had felt in centuries: guilt.
"We may have overdone it," Matatabi admitted.
"The shadow thing was a bit much," Chōmei agreed.
"It was effective," Isobu protested. "He's not dead, is he? The attacker, I mean. He's just... traumatized."
"Isobu, the man now screams every time he sees a shadow. That's every moment he's not in direct sunlight. He's going to spend the rest of his life in a padded room."
"But he's alive!"
"Brothers, sisters," Kokuō said, "I think we're missing the larger point. Our protection methods are working, but they're also getting the kit removed from the orphanage. Is that good or bad?"
"Good," Kurama said immediately. "That place is depressing. The food is terrible, the other children are loud, and the caretakers keep looking at us—at him—like he's going to explode."
"You tried to make him explode last week."
"That was a test! I wanted to see if the seal would let me channel chakra! It didn't work!"
"The point," Gyūki interrupted, "is that we need somewhere more secure for the kit to live. Somewhere with better protection, better food, and fewer opportunities for civilians to try and murder him."
"The one-eyed human wanted to raise him," Saiken said. "The Kakashi person. He's apparently quite competent."
"He's a child himself."
"He's a ninja. They grow up fast."
"Can we please stop debating and just wait to see what the old man decides?" Son Gokū yawned, his massive form shifting in his corner of the mindscape. "We can't control everything. Sometimes we have to let events unfold."
"When did you become philosophical?"
"I'm not philosophical. I'm bored. There's a difference."
Hiruzen, unaware of the cosmic debate occurring within the infant he was discussing, made a decision.
"Kakashi," he said, summoning the young ANBU to his office later that day. "You made an offer three weeks ago. Is it still open?"
Kakashi, who had been lurking near the orphanage ever since the assassination attempts started, looked up from his position in the corner of the room. He had been assigned to guard Naruto quietly, without official acknowledgment, and had witnessed most of the bizarre events that had sent Haruki to the Hokage's office.
"The shadow thing was him, wasn't it?" Kakashi asked quietly. "And the temperature shifts. And the air pressure changes. The beast—the Nine-Tails—it's protecting him."
"I believe so, yes." Hiruzen studied the young man carefully. "Does that change your answer?"
"No." Kakashi's voice was steady. "If anything, it makes me more certain. Sensei sealed the beast into Naruto because he believed it could be controlled. If the fox is already acting to protect him... maybe it's working. Maybe the seal is doing what it was supposed to."
"Or maybe the beast is simply protecting its host for its own survival."
"Does it matter? Either way, Naruto needs someone to look after him. Someone who understands what he is and doesn't hate him for it." Kakashi met the Hokage's eyes. "That person can be me."
Hiruzen considered this for a long moment. Kakashi was young, traumatized, and had a history of making questionable decisions in the heat of emotion. He was also brilliant, loyal, and apparently the only person in the village willing to take on this responsibility.
"Very well," the Hokage said finally. "I'll make the arrangements. Naruto Uzumaki will be placed in your care, effective immediately."
"Thank you, Lord Third."
"Don't thank me yet. Raising a child is harder than any mission you've ever been on. And raising this child..." Hiruzen shook his head. "Just be careful, Kakashi. There's more to Naruto than any of us understand."
He had no idea how true those words were.
The transition happened three days later.
Naruto was bundled up and carried from the orphanage by Kakashi himself, while ANBU watched from the shadows and the village pretended not to notice. His new home was a modest apartment in a building that had been quietly reinforced with security seals, located in a neighborhood filled with other ninja who were unlikely to cause trouble.
The bijuu observed everything through Naruto's senses, cataloging details with the intensity of creatures who had spent centuries learning to distrust humans.
"The dwelling is adequate," Son Gokū said grudgingly. "Small, but secure."
"There are seals everywhere," Shukaku noted. "Barrier seals, alert seals, containment seals... the one-eyed human is paranoid."
"Paranoid is good," Matatabi said. "Paranoid keeps the kit safe."
"Can we please develop a different nickname? 'The kit' makes it sound like we care about him."
"We do care about him, Kurama. That's the whole point."
"I don't care about him! I'm just protecting my investment! If he dies, we all suffer!"
"Sure, Kurama. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
"I don't sleep! I'm a being of pure chakra!"
"And yet you dream. Curious, isn't it?"
The argument was interrupted by a new sensation—Kakashi was picking Naruto up, holding him with a gentleness that seemed at odds with his reputation as a deadly assassin.
"Hey there, little guy," Kakashi said softly, and his voice carried a warmth that surprised even him. "Welcome to your new home. It's not much, but it's ours."
Naruto gurgled, reaching up with tiny hands toward Kakashi's masked face.
"Yeah, I know. The mask is weird. You'll get used to it." Kakashi carried the baby to a crib that had been set up in the corner of the bedroom—brand new, carefully assembled, with blankets that were softer than anything Naruto had experienced in the orphanage. "Your dad bought this, you know. Before you were born. He was so excited to be a father."
The bijuu fell silent, listening.
"He and Kushina—your mom—they had all these plans. They were going to teach you everything. How to fight, how to lead, how to... how to be good." Kakashi's voice cracked slightly. "They loved you so much. And I know I can never replace them, but I promise I'll do my best. I'll protect you. I'll teach you. I'll make sure you grow up knowing you're not alone."
Inside the seal, Kurama felt something shift. A crack in the wall of rage and hatred he'd built over centuries. It was uncomfortable, this feeling. It made him want to lash out, to destroy something, to prove that he was still the monster everyone believed him to be.
But he didn't.
Instead, he just watched, along with his siblings, as their host was gently placed in his new crib and tucked in by a teenager who had lost everything and was desperately trying to hold onto something.
"The one-eyed human is acceptable," Kurama said finally, the words grudging.
"High praise from you, brother," Gyūki said.
"Don't push it."
The weeks that followed established a routine.
Kakashi, despite having no experience with children, threw himself into the role of caretaker with the same intensity he applied to missions. He read parenting books. He consulted with medical professionals. He learned to change diapers with one hand while holding a kunai in the other, just in case.
The bijuu, for their part, settled into their new existence with varying degrees of grace.
Chōmei took it upon herself to regulate Naruto's sleep cycles, using her control over insects—expressed through the seal as tiny fluctuations in his brain chemistry—to ensure he got proper rest. The result was a baby who slept through the night almost immediately, a blessing that made Kakashi weep with gratitude.
Saiken, despite being perpetually gloomy, developed an unexpected talent for soothing Naruto's moods. Whenever the baby started to get fussy, a wave of calm would wash through the seal, settling him down before he could start crying. It wasn't exactly healthy emotional development, but it kept the household peaceful.
Isobu and Kokuō worked together to strengthen Naruto's developing body, carefully channeling minute amounts of chakra into his bones, muscles, and nervous system. The process was slow and subtle—any faster would damage him—but they estimated that by the time he was old enough to start training, he would be significantly stronger and more resilient than the average child.
Son Gokū and Shukaku were less constructive, spending most of their time arguing about philosophy, warfare, and whether sand or lava was a more effective element. Their debates grew loud enough that Naruto occasionally woke up looking confused, but they hadn't caused any permanent damage yet.
Matatabi appointed herself as the group's unofficial leader, mostly because someone had to and no one else wanted the job. She organized meetings, mediated disputes, and tried to keep everyone focused on their shared goal: keeping Naruto alive and healthy until he was old enough to understand what he carried.
Gyūki was the voice of reason, offering advice and perspective when tensions ran high. He had spent decades in relative harmony with his previous Jinchuuriki and had learned more about coexistence than any of the others. His insights were valuable, even if Kurama refused to acknowledge them.
And Kurama...
Kurama was changing.
He didn't want to admit it. He fought against it with every fiber of his being. But watching Naruto grow—watching him learn to smile, to laugh, to reach for things with those tiny, trusting hands—was doing something to the Nine-Tails that centuries of hatred couldn't undo.
It wasn't love. Kurama refused to call it love. But it was... something. A connection. A sense of responsibility. A growing understanding that this infant, this helpless creature, was depending on him just as much as he was depending on the seal.
"You're going soft," Shukaku taunted one day, as they watched Naruto play with a stuffed frog that Kakashi had bought him.
"I am not going soft," Kurama growled. "I am observing. Learning. Preparing for eventual escape."
"You've been 'preparing for eventual escape' for six months. You haven't made a single attempt."
"The timing isn't right."
"The timing will never be right, and we both know it." Shukaku's voice lost its mocking edge. "It's okay, you know. To care. We're all doing it. Even me, and I'm clinically insane."
"I don't care."
"Sure you don't."
"I don't!"
"Okay, Kurama. Whatever you say."
The conversation ended there, but the truth hung in the air between them, undeniable and uncomfortable.
The nine bijuu, for the first time in their existence, had something to protect. And they were going to protect it with everything they had.
The first anniversary of the Nine-Tails attack came and went.
Konoha marked the day with memorials and mourning, honoring those who had died and celebrating the defeat of the beast that had threatened their home. Hiruzen gave a speech about sacrifice and hope. Kakashi stayed home with Naruto, unwilling to expose the boy to the villagers' complicated feelings.
Inside the seal, the bijuu were quiet. They remembered the attack, of course—remembered being summoned, or pulled, or whatever had happened to bring them all together. But for most of them, the day had different significance.
It was the day they had become a family.
Not that any of them would say that out loud. But as they gathered in the common area of the mindscape, watching through Naruto's eyes as Kakashi read him a story about a brave ninja who saved the world, the feeling was unmistakable.
"One year," Matatabi said softly. "We've been together for one year."
"It feels longer," Chōmei buzzed.
"It feels shorter," Isobu disagreed. "Time is strange in here."
"Time is strange everywhere," Kokuō said. "We just notice it more now because we have something to measure it against."
"The kit's development," Son Gokū said, nodding. "He's already crawling. Soon he'll be walking. Then talking. Then..."
"Then he'll discover us," Saiken finished glumly. "And everything will change."
The mood shifted, becoming heavier.
"He doesn't have to fear us," Gyūki said carefully. "We could... introduce ourselves. When he's ready. Explain who we are, what we want. Build a relationship based on understanding rather than fear."
"Humans fear what they don't understand," Kurama said. "And they fear us specifically. The old man, the village, the one-eyed human—they all see us as monsters. Why would the kit be any different?"
"Because we've raised him." Matatabi's flames flickered with emotion. "Not directly, not openly, but we've been here since the beginning. We've protected him, nurtured him, watched him grow. He's ours, Kurama. Whether we like it or not, he's ours. And when he finally learns the truth..."
"He'll either accept us or hate us," Shukaku said. "There's no middle ground with something like this."
"Then we make sure he accepts us." Kurama's voice was stronger now, carrying a conviction that surprised even him. "We show him what we really are. Not the monsters the humans created, but the beings the Sage created. His children. His legacy."
"That's surprisingly optimistic coming from you, brother."
"Don't get used to it."
The bijuu fell silent again, each lost in their own thoughts about the future. About what they hoped for, what they feared, what they would do when the moment of truth finally arrived.
And in the real world, oblivious to the cosmic significance of his existence, Naruto Uzumaki reached for the stuffed frog, grabbed it with both hands, and shoved it directly into his mouth.
"No, Naruto, that's not food," Kakashi said, gently extracting the toy. "We've talked about this. Toys are for playing, not eating."
Naruto gurgled in disagreement.
"I know you're hungry. You're always hungry. But Mr. Frog is not on the menu."
More gurgling, this time with a distinctly unhappy tone.
"Don't give me that look. I invented that look. It doesn't work on me."
Naruto gave him the look anyway.
"...fine. One more bottle. But that's it for tonight."
Naruto gurgled happily.
Inside the seal, nine ancient beings of unfathomable power exchanged the equivalent of knowing glances.
"He's got the one-eyed human wrapped around his finger," Shukaku cackled.
"He's a baby. That's what babies do."
"Our baby."
"We've been over this, Shukaku."
"Yes, and I'm ignoring you. Our baby. The most powerful baby in history. The baby who will one day command enough strength to reshape the world."
"Or be destroyed by it," Saiken added.
"Saiken, please."
"What? I'm just being realistic."
"You're being depressing."
"Those are the same thing."
The argument continued, as arguments among the bijuu always did. But underneath the bickering, there was something new. Something warm.
Something that might, in time, be called hope.
And somewhere in Konoha, a one-year-old boy with whisker marks on his cheeks fell asleep in his caretaker's arms, dreaming of vast creatures and endless possibilities, completely unaware that his life was going to be very, very interesting.
The following months brought new challenges.
Naruto learned to walk at ten months, which was early even by ninja standards. He took his first steps in the living room of the apartment, lurching from the couch to the coffee table while Kakashi watched with barely concealed pride.
"Did you see that?" Kakashi asked the empty room, tears threatening to form behind his mask. "He walked. His first steps. Sensei, Kushina, wherever you are... your son just took his first steps."
Inside the seal, the bijuu celebrated in their own way.
"The kit is mobile!" Chōmei buzzed excitedly. "He can go places now! Explore! Experience the world!"
"He can also fall down, hurt himself, and require medical attention," Isobu noted. "We should be prepared to cushion impacts."
"We can't cushion every fall, Isobu. He needs to learn from his mistakes."
"He's a baby. What mistakes could he possibly—"
Naruto, as if hearing this challenge, promptly toddled toward the kitchen and attempted to grab a knife from the counter.
The bijuu moved as one.
It was instinct, pure and simple. Nine entities of immense power, each reaching through the seal to protect their host from a threat he was too young to understand. The knife seemed to twist in place, suddenly too slippery to grip. The floor became slightly softer, ready to cushion a fall. The air grew warmer, more comfortable, encouraging Naruto to stay calm rather than cry.
Kakashi, moving at the same instant, scooped Naruto up and away from the danger.
"No, no, no," he said, his heart pounding. "Knives are not toys. Knives are dangerous. We don't touch knives."
Naruto stared at him with big blue eyes that conveyed absolutely no understanding of this concept.
"I need to baby-proof this apartment," Kakashi muttered, carrying Naruto back to the living room. "Why didn't anyone tell me I needed to baby-proof the apartment?"
"You could have asked," an ANBU operative said from the window, and Kakashi nearly had a heart attack.
"Cat! Don't do that!"
"You're an ANBU captain. You should have sensed my approach."
"I'm also a sleep-deprived caretaker who just watched a baby try to grab a knife. Cut me some slack."
The ANBU—Cat, apparently—tilted her head. "The Hokage wants an update on the asset's development."
"The asset has a name. It's Naruto."
"Fine. The Hokage wants an update on Naruto's development."
Kakashi sighed, settling Naruto on his hip. "He's walking early. Eating constantly. Sleeping well. No signs of the beast attempting to break free."
"And the unusual incidents?"
"Nothing since the orphanage. Whatever was happening there seems to have stopped."
This was a lie, and both Kakashi and the bijuu knew it. The strange occurrences hadn't stopped; they'd just become more subtle. Shadows that moved wrong. Temperature fluctuations that couldn't be explained. The occasional moment when Naruto's eyes would flash a color other than blue.
But Kakashi wasn't going to report that. Not when doing so might result in Naruto being taken away, experimented on, or worse.
"The Hokage will be pleased," Cat said. "I'll relay your report."
"You do that."
The ANBU vanished as silently as she'd arrived, and Kakashi let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Your life is going to be very complicated, little guy," he told Naruto. "But I promise I'll do everything I can to make it easier. Even if that means lying to my superiors."
Naruto reached up and patted Kakashi's masked cheek, which was either a sign of appreciation or an attempt to grab something shiny. With babies, it was hard to tell.
Inside the seal, the bijuu processed this information.
"The one-eyed human is protecting us," Matatabi observed. "Lying to his leaders to keep the kit safe."
"He's loyal," Kurama admitted grudgingly. "I'll give him that."
"Is that respect I hear, brother?"
"It's acknowledgment. There's a difference."
"Sure there is."
Naruto's first words came at fourteen months, and they were not what anyone expected.
Kakashi had been reading to him from a picture book about animals—"This is a dog, this is a cat, this is a very suspicious-looking fox that I'm going to skip over"—when Naruto looked up at him with those big blue eyes and said, very clearly:
"Shukaku."
Kakashi froze.
"What did you just say?"
Naruto giggled, apparently pleased with himself. "Shukaku!"
"That's not... that's not a word, Naruto. Where did you hear that?"
"Shukaku! Shukaku! Shukaku!"
Inside the seal, pandemonium erupted.
"HE SAID MY NAME!" Shukaku was practically vibrating with excitement. "THE KIT SAID MY NAME FIRST! I WIN! SHUKAKU IS THE BEST!"
"How is that possible?!" Kurama's rage was palpable. "He shouldn't be able to hear us! The seal is supposed to block mental communication until he's older!"
"Apparently the seal has some gaps," Gyūki said, trying to remain calm. "This is... concerning."
"It's not concerning, it's GLORIOUS!" Shukaku continued his celebration. "First word! Shukaku! That's me! The kit loves me best!"
"This could expose us," Matatabi said urgently. "If the humans figure out what that word means—"
"They won't," Isobu interrupted. "Shukaku isn't known by that name here. To Konoha, I'm the One-Tail, not Shukaku. The word will mean nothing to them."
"But the one-eyed human looked suspicious—"
"The one-eyed human looks suspicious at everything. That's just his face."
Outside, Kakashi was trying a different approach.
"Can you say 'Kakashi'? Ka-ka-shi?"
Naruto considered this for a moment, then shook his head decisively. "Shukaku."
"What about 'dada'? That's a classic. 'Dada.'"
"Shukaku!"
"'Mama'?"
"Shukaku!"
"'Ramen'? Please say 'ramen.' It would make me so happy."
Naruto thought about it, really considered the request, and then broke into a wide grin.
"Kurama!"
Kakashi dropped the picture book.
Inside the seal, Shukaku's celebration stopped mid-dance, and Kurama went very, very still.
"He said my name," the Nine-Tails said, his voice strange. "He said... he knows me."
"Of course he knows you," Chōmei buzzed gently. "We've been with him since before he was born. You especially, Kurama. You were sealed into him first. You're part of him."
"But he shouldn't... the seal..."
"The seal is strong, but it's not perfect. We've always known that." Matatabi's voice was soft. "He can feel us, even if he doesn't understand what we are. And apparently, he's starting to hear us too."
"Shukaku! Kurama!" Naruto clapped his hands, delighted with himself. "Shukaku! Kurama! Mata!"
"DID HE JUST TRY TO SAY MY NAME?!" Matatabi's flames flared.
"Mata! Mata! Mata!"
"He's naming us," Son Gokū said wonderingly. "All of us. He's learning our names."
"This is bad," Kurama said, but his voice lacked conviction. "This is very bad. If he can hear us, he can be influenced by us. Corrupted. Turned into a weapon."
"Or," Gyūki said carefully, "he can grow up knowing us. Understanding us. Seeing us as allies rather than enemies."
"That's impossibly optimistic."
"Maybe. But so far, impossible seems to be this kit's specialty."
Kakashi, meanwhile, had picked up the picture book and was staring at it as if it held the answers to the universe.
"Okay," he said slowly. "Okay. Your first words are... a bunch of nonsense syllables. That's fine. That's normal. Babies say weird things all the time. This doesn't mean anything."
"Gyuki!" Naruto announced.
"That's not even a word!"
"Gyuki! Gyuki! Gyuki!"
"I'm going to need to talk to the Hokage about this," Kakashi muttered. "Or maybe a child psychologist. Or maybe both."
"Koka! Iso! Cho!"
"Please stop."
"Son! Saiken!"
"I'm begging you."
Naruto, sensing that he was causing distress, changed tactics. He reached up toward Kakashi, made grabby hands, and said, very sweetly:
"Kashi."
Kakashi's heart melted into a puddle on the floor.
"You said my name," he whispered. "Sort of. Close enough. That counts."
"Kashi! Kashi! Shukaku! Kurama! Kashi!"
"I'm going to choose to believe you're just making random sounds and not somehow communing with supernatural entities."
Naruto giggled, which was not really a denial.
Inside the seal, the bijuu settled into a satisfied silence. Their host knew them. Recognized them. Was beginning to build a connection that would only grow stronger with time.
It was the start of something unprecedented.
Something that would change the world.
But for now, it was just a baby in an apartment, babbling names that shouldn't have meant anything but somehow meant everything.
"He's developing normally," the medic reported a week later, after Kakashi had brought Naruto in for a checkup. "Advanced vocabulary for his age, excellent motor skills, and an appetite that suggests he's going to be very tall."
"What about the words he's saying? The specific sounds?"
"Babies often create nonsense words as they learn to speak. It's part of language development. The sounds 'Shukaku' and 'Kurama' are just combinations of syllables that he finds interesting."
"They don't... mean anything?"
The medic gave Kakashi a strange look. "Should they?"
"No. No, of course not. I just wanted to make sure."
"He's perfectly healthy, Kakashi-san. You're doing a wonderful job."
Kakashi left the hospital feeling somewhat reassured, though the image of Naruto happily chanting the names of tailed beasts continued to haunt him. He wasn't stupid; he knew there was something strange going on. But without proof, without understanding, there was nothing he could do except keep the boy safe and hope for the best.
Which was, he realized, exactly what he'd been doing all along.
"Okay, little guy," he said, carrying Naruto through the village streets, carefully avoiding the glares of people who recognized the child. "Let's go home and practice normal words. Like 'dog.' Or 'tree.' Or 'kunai.'"
"Kurama!" Naruto said happily.
"That's not what I said."
"Kurama! Shukaku! Kashi!"
"At least I made the list."
Inside the seal, Kurama watched this exchange with an expression that might, in the right light, be called fondness.
"You're smiling," Matatabi observed.
"I am not."
"You absolutely are. For the first time in centuries, the great Nine-Tailed Fox is smiling."
"If you tell anyone, I will end you."
"There's no one to tell, brother. We're sealed inside the same baby. Your secret is safe."
"Good."
"But for the record? I think it's sweet."
"I hate you."
"I know. But you also love us. All of us. Including the kit."
Kurama didn't deny it.
And in the streets of Konoha, a young man with a mask carried a baby with nine ancient souls, walking toward a future that none of them could predict but all of them, in their own ways, were beginning to hope for.
It was, by any measure, the beginning of something extraordinary.
But the bijuu, in their infinite wisdom, had already figured out what the humans hadn't.
This child was going to be ridiculously overpowered.
It was just a matter of time.
Author's Note: Yes, he's going to be ridiculously overpowered. You knew this when you started reading. Just wait until he actually learns to use chakra. The bijuu are already planning training regimens. Kurama has a spreadsheet. It's very detailed. Shukaku keeps trying to add "Causing Insanity" as a core curriculum subject. The arguments are ongoing.