Chapter Text
Minato had been many things throughout his relatively short life. He once lived in poverty as the nameless son of a prostitute and an abusive alcoholic; that part of his life taught him to be thankful for what he gained and for every single little drop of good that came his way.
That part of his life also taught him another important lesson: there can never be love without pain. His mother had been on the extreme end of that belief, convinced that every bruise, cut, and blister that marred her body was a sign of her husband's undying love.
Entering the academy kicked off the next portion of his life, one where he pined for a red-headed beauty, yearning to speak but being too afraid to do so. It was during this phase of puppy love that he thought of his name: Namikaze Minato, Harbour from Waves and Wind, an homage to her birth land as well as an identity he could finally grasp.
This part of his life taught him another important lesson: you will never become anything if you hesitate to take action. This lesson helped him save her; it pushed him to learn faster and become better. He didn’t have the advantages of his peers after all; if he wanted to succeed, he needed to know more than everyone else could fathom. He couldn’t stagnate, not even for a second, or else he would fall into obscurity.
The next phase of his life was marked by hardship and mourning, which not only solidified his beliefs on love but also morphed into another segment of wisdom entirely: mourning won’t wake the dead; don’t let it cloud your judgement; compartmentalise; and practise when your life is not on the line.
It was difficult in the beginning, but with each loss, it became closer and closer to second nature, and by the time he was entrusted with students, loss felt like a dull ache, one that he could ignore until the dust settled and he was with her.
The last phase of his life was both his happiest and shortest by far, only lasting around two years. It didn’t teach him much and only reinforced his preexisting beliefs: mourning won’t wake the dead; you will never become anything if you hesitate to take action; be grateful; there can never be any love without pain.
In a way, this phase was the payout for all of his troubles; he climbed his way through the shinobi rankings at breathtaking speed; he spoke to the right people; he made the correct connections, which let him rise further to a rank he never truly believed he could achieve; and most importantly, he was able to spend the rest of his life with her.
Uzumaki Kushina, the woman he’d been pining for, the woman for whom he created his signature jutsu, the woman who inspired his name (though that part was known to no one but himself), When he found out about her pregnancy, he allowed himself to dream and to stagnate in his perceived utopia. Though that didn’t last for long.
This final phase ended with bittersweet melancholy. He saved the village; his son would live, but he and Kushina would die. He wouldn’t be able to join her in the afterlife; he would be sealed in the shikigami's stomach, but he was fine with that, as long as Naruto lived and as long as Kushina could pass on in peace.
He didn’t think that the reaper's death seal could be broken, but he was proven wrong. It was quite strange to go from fighting the nine tails to waking up surrounded by the previous Hokage and being forced to listen to a story he pieced together from diary entries (not that anyone knew about his escapades into the restricted section, and it would be too bothersome to explain).
At least he got to see his son again, this time all grown up, powerful, and untainted by his unsavoury past. It was a relief; he’d hoped that with their deaths, his upbringing would never see the light of day, but he’d been worried—what if it caught up to him? What if his son was forced to pay the price for something he knew nothing about? In the end, he was thankful that Naruto inherited the name Uzumaki; things would have been worse otherwise.
By the end, Minato was ready to pass onto the pure lands, to finally rest, maybe meet his mother, and definitely meet Kushina. He’d done enough, right?
Well, apparently not, because the next time he opened his eyes, he saw the Sage of Six Paths in all his semi-human wrinkly glory. great.
"I have a task of great importance for you." Of course, he wouldn’t be meeting the equivalent of a god without being forced to do his bidding. "There is a world much like this one, though it is many years in the past." Huh? He can guess where this is going. "I want you to go there, leave your mark, and fix all that I could not." Dear God, he just wants to see his wife again. Is that too much to ask for?
Of course he couldn’t say this outright, so he decided on the more neutral "What makes you think that I will be able to do... this?" His hesitant answer only seemed to make the sage more sure.
"You were once thought to be the child of prophecy; you have the talent, the cunning, and the drive to truly change the world." Ah, all the buzz words, huh? A rather flattering way for saying, You seem like you know what you’re doing, and I couldn’t think of anyone else." I must warn you before I send you off: that world might look like ours on the surface, but the difference is striking. I will give you a manual of sorts, and I wish you the best of luck.
And for what seemed like the thousandth time in succession, he closed his eyes and woke up elsewhere.
‘Elsewhere’ turned out to be a forest somewhere in the south of the fire county.
Minato attempted to sit up but ended up splayed out in the dirt with a migraine. It was clear that there was something amiss, specifically with his constitution; it felt wrong, like someone had rearranged him from the inside out. He was eventually able to stand up (with generous assistance from nearby trees), and he assessed his current situation.
He was in unknown territory at an unknown time; his uniform seemed a bit too big on him, like he’d shrunk down; his personalised sleeves reached his thumb; the metal bands he kept on his arm were looser than they should be; there was an unknown weight in his jounin vest (probably the manual the sage mentioned); and there was running water nearby.
Deciding he had nothing to lose, he headed towards the stream. He lowered himself to take a sip of water, only to fall over in shock.
His features were softened slightly—not to the point of being a different person, but definitely noticeable. His hair was also a centimetre or two longer than it should be; nothing major, just... wrong.
He took this opportunity to inspect the rest of his body; it shared the same slight shift towards androgyny. He looked around to make sure there was no one near before taking off his trousers, and, wait, WHERE DID HIS DICK GO?
He made himself presentable before doing what he should have done earlier: reading the manual. It was definitely quite an informative text, excluding no detail about his current situation, from time period to dynamics to details that would fit right into Jiraya’s literature. He knew that he was now an ‘Omega’, which explained his lack of….. acorns. But it also brought up a whole host of issues, like his social standing and the stigma of him being a shinobi, which would be further exacerbated by his no-clan status.
This is nothing that he hasn’t dealt with before; his first life was similar in a way; he just needed to do what he did back then: read as much as he can, utilise the supreme power of bullshit, and hope for the best.
His first order of business would be to take off all the Uzumaki clan symbols sewed onto his uniform. There is no Konoha right now since he is around 120 years away from his time, which means that proudly showcasing a clan symbol to which, to their knowledge, he held no connection would spark massive amounts of outrage and send him to Kushina far more violently than necessary. He took out a small, pocket-sized sewing kit and got to work.
Now that he thought about it, wasn’t 120 years a bit too many? Wasn’t Konoha built approximately 90 years before the Fourth War? And Hashirama was in his thirties by then. He needed to go gather information.
There was a small village a few kilometres away from his ‘spawn location. There he took on the guise of a friendly traveller from the land of the sky. His uniform made it believable; it looked foreign and innovative to the locals. In the end, he gained some key pieces of information during his escapade.
He’s in Nara territory.
Hashirama, Madara, and Izuna were barely out of the crib.
Tobirama hadn’t even been conceived yet.
All of that means he’s a sitting duck for at least the next 16 years. Great, just great.