Minato Namikaze, now disguised as Uzumaki Naruto, emerged from the shadows of a deserted alley, his bright blue eyes scanning the village he had once given his life to protect. Konoha had changed. The skyline was taller, the streets busier, and the air thick with the scents of food, incense, and the many lives bustling about. It was the same village, yet something felt... different.
For a brief moment, a wave of nostalgia washed over him. He had once strolled through these very streets with Kushina, dreaming of the future they would build together. He had once imagined walking here with his son, introducing him to shopkeepers, buying him his first bowl of ramen, and watching him grow up surrounded by the love of the people Minato had sworn to protect.
But reality was far from that dream.
Minato took a deep breath, steeling himself. He needed to see this with his own eyes. He needed to understand.
The streets bustled with activity, lanterns flickering to life as dusk set in. Minato—disguised as Naruto—walked forward, trying to take in the village's progress.
"It's incredible," he murmured under his breath, feigning Naruto's usual excitement. "Konoha has changed so much in just over a decade… it's even more developed than I imagined."
Before he could finish the thought, harsh voices cut through the noise of the street.
"Hey! Look over there! That damn demon fox is out again!"
"Keep your voice down, idiot! Do you want to get beaten like last time?!"
"Ugh, just seeing his face ruins my appetite. That brat is nothing but bad luck."
"I heard he nearly killed a man! My second aunt's third uncle's brother-in-law's cousin was there—he said the brat and his gang knocked all of a guy's teeth out just for talking back!"
Minato froze in place.
The casual cruelty in their voices, the scorn, the disgust—it was suffocating. He had known. Shouta Kazuki had warned him. But knowing was one thing. Experiencing it firsthand was something else entirely.
This was Naruto's reality. This was what his son had to endure.
His hands curled into fists. He forced himself to keep walking, to suppress the rising rage boiling inside him.
He needed to see more.
The first place he approached was a dango stand. The warm, sweet scent of grilled dumplings filled the air, reminding him of the times he had treated Kushina to her favorite snacks.
He approached the vendor. "Uncle, how much for a skewer?"
The old man barely looked at him before his face twisted in disgust.
"Get out, fox brat! I'd rather throw my food in the trash than sell it to you!"
Minato swallowed the sharp retort burning in his throat and turned away.
He approached a small bakery next. "Auntie, how much for these pastries?"
The middle-aged woman scowled. "Disgusting demon fox! Who do you think you're calling 'auntie'?!" She hurriedly started packing up her stall, as if afraid that his mere presence would taint her food.
A deep, searing anger burned in Minato's chest. He clenched his fists tighter, his nails digging into his palms, but he forced himself to remain silent.
He was beginning to understand now.
But before he could leave, a voice called out from a small grocery store.
"Oi, brat! Over here!"
Minato turned, surprised to see a shopkeeper waving him over. For a moment, he felt a flicker of hope—was there still kindness in Konoha?
"I got some milk and cup ramen for you," the shopkeeper said with a smirk. "I'll even give you a discount. Just two thousand ryo."
Minato's stomach twisted as he glanced at the items. His breath caught in his throat.
Every single one was expired. The milk had gone bad, curdled chunks visible through the bottle. The ramen cups were long past their expiration date. The items were garbage.
And yet… his son had been eating this.
Minato's entire body went rigid. "You're charging two thousand ryo for this?" His voice was low, dangerously controlled.
The shopkeeper scoffed. "Hah! What, you think you're too good for charity now? I've been selling you food for years! Show some gratitude, brat!"
Minato turned away before he lost control.
He had seen enough.
Or so he thought.
He forced his feet to move, bringing him to an establishment he recognized—Yuanyang Barbecue. He had eaten here once, long ago, before becoming Hokage. It had been a warm, welcoming place.
Maybe—just maybe—things would be different here.
But the moment he stepped inside, a barrage of trash was hurled at him.
"Ugh, just our luck! The demon fox brat is here!"
"Get out of my shop! I don't serve filth!"
A half-eaten rice ball struck his shoulder, smearing grease onto his jacket.
Something inside Minato snapped.
His body moved before his mind could stop it. He surged forward, his fist connecting with the shop owner's face. The crack of bone echoed through the restaurant. The man staggered backward, blood spraying from his nose as he crashed onto the floor.
Silence fell over the shop.
Then—
"The demon fox finally lost control!"
"He's gone rabid!"
"Somebody call the ninja patrol! He's going to kill someone!"
Minato panted, his fists shaking. The very people he had once died to protect… were the same ones who spat on his son.
He could hear it—his own thoughts turning dark, his rage whispering dangerous ideas into his mind.
You all deserve to die.
The idea was tempting. It would be so easy. A flicker of chakra, a single jutsu, and the streets would be painted red.
"Minato."
A firm hand gripped his shoulder.