During the great war, Kabuto had unleashed chaos unlike anything the world had seen before. From the darkest corners of history, he had pulled forth the strongest shinobi across every age—warriors whose very names inspired awe or terror. Thanks to the Shinobi World's morbid reverence for history, their remains had been preserved over time—be it relics, strands of hair, or even old weaponry that carried their essence. That was all Edo Tensei needed: a small trace to summon back the souls of legends.
The battlefield had become a stage where the past walked among the present. However, with the rise of the Shinju and the titanic battle between immortal-like beings, humanity had been caught in the roots of the sacred tree—saved only because they were tangled and hidden away, protected from the crossfire of deities.
Edo Tensei, cursed as it was, didn't end with the caster's death. Only the caster or someone equally knowledgeable could undo it. If left unchecked, those summoned souls could wander and battle for eternity—immortal warriors caught in an endless loop of conflict.
Kaguya could have erased them all with her Truth-Seeking Orbs, yet she hesitated. They were powerful, potent weapons in the hands of the right master. She saw potential—pawns that could be used, or perhaps redeemed.
Upon Sasuke's humble but firm request, she released Minato and Jiraiya first. Unlike many others, they were not bound to Kabuto's will anymore. When Itachi had placed Kabuto under the Izanami, trapping him in an endless loop of introspection, the Edo Tensei summons had been freed from his control. Many of the resurrected had chosen to turn on Madara, aiding the Allied Shinobi Forces in a dramatic reversal of fortune.
Now, as the golden aura of Naruto's power shimmered across the roots of the Shinju, two familiar figures stepped forth—Minato Namikaze and Jiraiya of the Sannin.
Naruto's heart clenched at the sight. Minato, while biologically his father, was more of a distant memory. A kind man, yes, but not someone Naruto had shared many memories with. Jiraiya, on the other hand… he was the mentor, the goofy yet wise sage, the man who taught him to believe in himself. He was the closest thing to a father Naruto had truly known.
Naruto didn't hesitate. With a simple motion of his hand, Jiraiya was pulled through space into his waiting arms.
"Is this how you greet your master?" Jiraiya mumbled, his voice muffled against Naruto's chest. "Felt like someone was attacking me again. For a second, I thought Pain had come back for round two."
"You deserve it, old man," Naruto replied cheerfully, though his arms tightened around the Sage. "You always told me to act carefully—but then you waltzed right into your own death like an idiot. You knew how strong they were, and still, you went alone. Do something that stupid again and I'll break your bones myself."
Despite the reprimanding tone, his voice was full of warmth, relief, and overwhelming joy. Jiraiya chuckled softly and returned the hug with equal affection. It had been too long. His student—no, his legacy—had grown up.
A few steps away, Minato was being mercilessly hugged by Kushina, who had appeared moments earlier. She was laughing and crying at the same time, her arms crushing her husband's ribs.
"You're lucky you're immortal right now, Minato!" she declared.
Meanwhile, Jiraiya stood with a sheepish smile, hearing Naruto's words ring in his ears. He couldn't deny the truth. He had made many mistakes—chief among them being his decision to chase Akatsuki intelligence alone, prioritizing the mission over staying beside Naruto when the boy needed him most. His death had created a void that rippled across the future.
"I'm sorry…" Jiraiya murmured, rubbing the back of his head. Then, with a mischievous grin, he looked over Naruto's shoulder and winked at the women standing behind him. "So… looks like you hit the jackpot while I was busy being dead."
Naruto smirked. "Yeah, I somehow got myself involved with a lot of good girls."
"You love them and they love you. That's all that matters. Better than viewing them like tools or trophies. That kind of thinking just makes people forget what love even is."
Naruto nodded solemnly. "I know. I won't make that mistake."
The moment held a rare tranquility. But Naruto's mind was already drifting to what lay ahead. "So, what do you think of the future?"
Jiraiya sighed, gazing at the distant sky. "That's for the living to worry about."
"Right. The future is for the living." Naruto echoed, but his voice was different now—calmer, resolved. A quiet rumble passed through the earth.
And with his words, reality shifted.
The golden light that had been clinging to his form surged outward, bathing the world in its radiance. Across every battlefield, every shadow, and every crevice of the world—those deemed righteous by Naruto's heart and soul were revived, their bodies restored and souls returned. The others, those whose hands were steeped in unforgivable bloodshed and darkness, vanished like illusions.
Jiraiya stood frozen, eyes wide. "What… what just happened?"
"You're alive," Naruto said simply, a soft smile on his face. "Because I wanted you to be. Got a problem?"
"No," Jiraiya whispered, still in shock. "But—how is this so simple? What happened to you?"
He hadn't seen Naruto at all during the major conflicts of the war. He had assumed Naruto was training, waiting for the right moment. But this… this was something else entirely. Power that warped the laws of reality, that could erase and restore lives with a thought.
Naruto shrugged lightly. "It's a long story. I'll explain later. For now, I've got something urgent to deal with."
Releasing Jiraiya, Naruto turned and walked toward Minato, a new gleam of resolve in his eyes.
While Naruto embraced Jiraiya with joy and bittersweet laughter, Kushina took a moment she'd waited for over two years—two years of aching loneliness, of mourning in silence, of watching over her son while her own heart remained fractured. She wrapped her arms tightly around Minato and pressed her lips against his as if trying to make up for every second they had lost. The kiss wasn't just passion—it was pain, fury, forgiveness, and love all at once.
Minato didn't resist. He couldn't.
He didn't have the right.
The guilt had carved itself into his soul. During the war, he had heard the whispers, the grudges muttered under breath by those who fought beside the dead. But Hiruzen hadn't held back. In every battle, every speech, the old man's fury echoed in the background:
"That coward Yellow Flash—ran from fatherhood straight into the arms of death!"
The worst part? Minato couldn't deny any of it.
That night, when the Kyuubi attacked… he'd had options.
He could have let Hiruzen handle the sealing, he could have supported Kushina's survival instead of diving headfirst into a blaze of sacrifice. He knew the Uzumaki were resilient—miraculously so. Kushina had survived childbirth and a bijuu extraction, something that would've killed any other human instantly. She had fought while bleeding out, while dying, holding the Kyuubi back with chains made of pure chakra, her soul screaming in resistance.
She had bought him time.
But he had thrown it away.
He had chosen the "heroic" route, thinking about legacy, about peace, about symbolism. And it cost Kushina her life, her future with Naruto, and any chance they had as a family.
Now she was alive again, thanks to their son… and she was staring right into his soul.
"I missed you so much," Kushina whispered, voice trembling.
"I know. I missed you too," Minato murmured, brushing his lips over her forehead, gently caressing her crimson hair—the same shade as Naruto's warmth.
"I want to break your legs," she said next, without changing tone.
"I know."
"I want to chain you up."
"I know."
"You are an idiot."
"I definitely know."
Kushina gave a small laugh, tears in her eyes. "I'm not letting you go again. We're bringing you back."
Minato blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. You're staying. Naruto will make it happen."
"But—Kushina… that's messing with forces no one should touch. The Shinigami's seal—it's not something even I—"
"It doesn't matter!" she snapped, then softened. "I want you. That's enough. And Naruto will do it."
Minato fell silent. In the past, he might have argued—might have tried to reason or caution her. But now? He could see it in her eyes, in the quiet power of her voice. She wasn't making a wish. She was declaring a reality.
And Naruto…
Minato's gaze drifted toward his son. He didn't understand what he was seeing.
Naruto wasn't just stronger. He was transcendent—his very presence elusive, untraceable, like the wind wrapped in divinity. The moment his golden chakra spread across the world, Minato had been brought back—not as an Edo Tensei, not bound by death—but as a living being again.
"Why… can't I feel him anymore?" Minato whispered, unnerved by the disconnection.
"He stepped beyond what we knew," Kushina replied. "Beyond even the Sage of Six Paths. Naruto is now something the myths only hinted at—a being who can touch fate, rewrite existence. You saw it. You felt it. He's no longer someone we can measure."
As her words echoed, Minato watched Naruto finish his conversation with Jiraiya, calm and focused. There was no drama in his power. No arrogance. He simply willed, and reality obeyed.
"…See?" Kushina said again, and Minato felt it—his soul solidifying, his body no longer tethered to death. He had truly returned.
"I—" Minato struggled to speak. "How? I… I still can't believe it."
"It's a long story," Kushina said, placing a finger on his lips. "Let Naruto finish what he needs to. Then we can finally sit down… as a family."
A smirk tugged at her lips. "Also, you've got a lot of daughters-in-law now."
Minato blinked. "Wait—what?! Naruto? But he's—he's like us. He was always shy around girls. I never thought—"
Kushina's grin widened. "Oh, believe me… he's not that shy anymore."
Minato turned toward Naruto again, catching sight of the girls nearby—Pamela, Kara, and others whose auras radiated strength, beauty, and deep affection. Their gazes lingered on Naruto with unmistakable devotion.
'I might have acted like a know-it-all…' Minato sighed inwardly, then glanced sideways at Jiraiya, who was giving him a cheeky thumbs up.
'Jiraiya… you managed to infect him after all.'
And for the first time in years—no, decades—Minato Namikaze let himself laugh.
"Father, it is nice seeing you again."
Minato turned at the sound of Naruto's voice—and for a moment, he thought he was dreaming. Naruto hadn't walked over. He hadn't run. He hadn't even flickered. He had simply appeared, like a thought materializing into reality.
There was no noise. No gust of wind. Only the subtle shimmer of space around him—like the world had to rearrange itself to allow Naruto through.
Even the ground beneath his feet seemed to hesitate before acknowledging him.
Minato's eyes softened. "I'm happy to see you again as well," he said warmly. "But… it seems life has been harsh on you."
He didn't need to ask. He could see it—the maturity in Naruto's eyes, the quiet weight of burden in his posture, and the serenity that could only come after experiencing pain few could comprehend. This wasn't the same knuckleheaded ninja who once shouted about ramen and dreams of being Hokage.
This was someone who had stepped beyond titles… beyond mortality.
Naruto didn't respond at first.
Instead, he did something simple—something human.
He stepped forward and embraced them both. One arm around his father's back, the other around his mother's. For a moment, time felt still—not because Naruto willed it, but because he needed it.
A boy's unfulfilled wish, finally granted.
"It has," Naruto whispered into the warmth of their embrace. "And I have learned my lessons."
He didn't elaborate. He didn't need to.
He just closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel—to hold his parents not as ghosts, not as figments of chakra… but as living, breathing people. His people. His family.
Then, gently, he pulled away, the softest smile gracing his lips.
"Spend time with Mother for now," he said, voice low and serene. "I'll come back soon."
And just like that, he vanished.
Kurama was at his side, stoic and calm. Kara and Pamela followed in silence, each of them a beacon of light in their own right. Their presence shimmered along with him—like a star passing between dimensions.
In his wake, there was no sound.
Only awe.
Minato stood there, one hand still raised from the hug, and whispered under his breath, "…Naruto…"
Kushina smiled softly, her eyes misty. "Our son has become something unimaginable."
Minato nodded, watching the horizon where his son had been. "…He's no longer walking the path we knew."
"He's making the path now," Kushina replied, wrapping her arms around Minato. "And we'll walk beside him… as his family."
For the first time, Minato didn't feel like the legendary Yellow Flash.
He felt like Naruto Uzumaki's father.
And that was more than enough.