Just because I got better didn't revoke my right to own a grave, the living dead had just as much rights to own one as the regular dead did. I mean, zombies can move around like I did but no one ever tried to claim that they didn't belong in a graveyard.
I just applied the same logic to me.
...
Looking around at the thousands of gravestones that littered the hill around me, I waved and gave a mental hello to all of my fellow dead comrades. It was odd really, back in my past life graveyards creeped the crap out of me, especially at night, but now that I've died myself I lost all my fear of the place. It was almost like returning home in some ways.
"Besides," turning to smile at Naruto as I patted another Uzumaki tomb, "this is the Uzumaki section of the cemetery. And if your relatives were anything like you I doubt they'd mind if I messed around a little."
"Fine..." Naruto relented after thinking it over, but not before sparing a worried glance around the graveyard. "But don't come crying to me if you find yourself haunted by a ghost."
I found myself rolling my eyes at Naruto. For a girl who would happily fight a bear with her bare hands, Naruto could be surprisingly timid at times. She had an almost irrational fear of spirits and ghosts. As a child a well-told ghost story would send her clinging to my side, trembling like a leaf as she tried to bury herself into my chest. She had gotten better over the years, but her fear of ghosts had never completely gone away.
If only she knew that the hand she was holding technically belonged to a dead man. I had to bite back the urge to laugh hysterically at the image that thought conjured up.
On either side of us, lining the path, were the graves of the Uzumaki, the last remnants of a once-great Clan. After the destruction of Uzushiogakure – the village hidden in the whirling tides – the surviving members fled to Konoha in hopes of finding refuge with their old allies, which they had.
Konoha welcomed the survivors with open arms, of which numbered only a few dozen in total. With the destruction of their old home, the remaining Uzumaki decided to settle down in Konoha and try to build a new life for themselves in the village.
Unfortunately, the Clan's streak of bad luck followed them here and by the end of the Third Shinobi War the great Clan had dwindled to but a small handful, becoming nothing more but a pale shadow of their glory days. Just like their cousins the Senju, they were targeted by the other villages out of fear of their strength and so shared a similar fate.
The nails that stood out the most were usually the ones hammered down the hardest.
They may have recovered given time were it not for the Kyuubi attack. Now there remained but one living Uzumaki in the entire village.
So as we made our way back home, we were surrounded by the graves of Naruto's last relatives.
Well, all save one.
I had no idea where Namikaze Minato's grave was.
He hadn't been buried beside his wife. I checked. He wasn't there. He wasn't buried in the Namikaze Clan section of the graveyard either. In fact, I couldn't spot his grave anywhere. I hadn't managed to piece it all together until I noticed that I couldn't find Hashirama's nor Tobirama's graves either.
With techniques like the Edo Tensei out there it made sense they would want to keep their bodies out of the public reach, even if Shinobi bodies were traditionally cremated.
I considered asking around about Minato's grave but I decided against it. While the identity of Naruto's mother was common knowledge, her father wasn't. If I started poking around about Minato, some people might get suspicious about how I knew.
Before I realised it, we had arrived at the staircase that ran down the hill. This time with Naruto walking by my side instead of riding on my back, we began the long climb down together. Our pace was leisurely as we went down the steps, neither of us in any hurry to reach home despite the lateness of the hour.
A comfortable silence had fallen between us, neither of us feeling the need to talk, so the only noise that could be heard in the quiet night was the chirping of crickets and the click-clack of Naruto's sandals.
Our journey down the stairs afforded us an unobstructed view of the village of Konoha, which looked like it had fallen asleep since I last paid attention to it. Hardly an hour earlier it had been blazing with life like a bonfire but in the short time since it looked like most of the villagers had gone to bed.
There were a few splashes of lights sprinkled here and there pouring out from windows in the residential district, probably a few night owls, and on the main roads there were strings of light that in front of business still open and running even in this late hour but for the most part, the village was dark as it's denizens slept the night away.
Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, click-…..
It took me a few seconds to notice that the sound of her footsteps had stopped.
"Naruto?" Halting, I turned around only to find the standing girl a few steps behind me, having slipped her hand out of mine at some point. "Naruto?" I repeated, but she didn't seem to hear. Her face was turned away from me, her eyes locked at something in the distance.
Naruto's beautiful yellow kimono was no longer in the pristine condition it had been this morning, not surprising after all the time she spent either sitting or lying on the ground. Her obi, the sash, had come loose at some point and sat slightly askew on her waist while the kimono itself had gained several creases and wrinkles in its folds. Strands of golden coloured hair had fallen loose from the elaborate design they had been stylized in and now fell freely down her back.
Naturally, Naruto didn't notice how she looked and wouldn't have cared even if she did. To her, the only purpose of getting dressed up was for her mother's sake and now that she had finished with what she wanted, she no longer cared what she looked like.
Naruto's face, illuminated by the light of the moon as it peeked out from behind the clouds, was unreadable. Her expression was blank, an expressionless mask that hid whatever thoughts she held from me as she gazed towards the horizon, eyes riveted at something beyond the village. It was disconcerting to see her like this.
Following her line of sight, I found myself looking at the Hokage monument where the faces of the Hokages, both past and present, were carved into the face of the cliff, where they continued to watch over the village in death as they did in life.
More specifically, I discovered that Naruto was staring at one face in particular, the one that sat on the far right of the mountain. She was staring into the visage of the Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato, Konoha's famed yellow flash, the fastest man in the Elemental Nations and the master of the Hiraishin – The Flying Thunder God Technique.
And more relevantly he was also the man that defeated the Kyuubi when it attacked Konoha, single-handedly stopping its rampage in time before it could completely wipe out the entire village, but failed to do it in time to save Naruto's mother.
He was also the man who chose to seal the beast into the belly of an innocent newborn baby.
Thus dooming the child to carry the burden of the beast for the rest of her life.
"I hate him."
She spoke at last, the three words cutting through the silence of the night like a knife, eyes never leaving her father's face.
Her voice was so cold, deprived of their usual warmth that I almost shivered.
"...But...Naruto," I began, awkwardly, wanting to stay something but not sure what. "The Fourth...he's-"
My words died still-born on my lips when Naruto turned to me. Her blue eyes hard and unwavering, not a single fragment of uncertainty to be found anywhere inside of them as she stared down at me, face as blank as stone.
She spoke the words again.
"I hate him."
I found that there was nothing I could say.
"…I see." I said in the end and smiled sadly at my friend, the cool night breeze tugging on my hair. I found it hard to watch her like this, her usually bright expression transforming into something so cold, so hard, that I found myself turning away to look at the Fourth's face as it hung over the village instead.
Oh, how I wished I could laugh at the irony of it all.
Ah, to be hated by your own child. I gave the stone face of Naruto's father a wistful look. I know how that feels. Sucks, doesn't it?
I chuckled sadly before shrugging. Ah, well. It's only natural I supposed. I turned back around and began climbing up the stairs. It's only natural for a parent to love their children, but no one ever said that the opposite had to be true.
I covered the few steps that separated us and stopped once I stood by her side.
Reaching out, I took hold of her hand and gripped it firmly in my own.
"Come on." I gently led her by the hand down the stairs, "Let's head home."
She didn't resist and followed silently after me as we made our way down, the click-clack of her sandals echoing off the stone steps returning once again as we resumed our trek.
The rest of the journey down was spent in silence, not a single word passing between us until we stepped off the staircase.
It was a long walk down.
...
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