The moon hung low over Konoha, pale and heavy, as though watching.
Inside a small, quiet home, Kushina lay weak from childbirth, her breaths thin and trembling. Their newborn slept only a few feet away in a wooden cradle, tiny breaths soft and innocent.
Then—
drip.
A slow, deliberate sound.
Minato's head snapped toward the cradle.
A figure bent over the infant, silhouetted by moonlight, draped in black cloth from head to toe. One hand tilted a small vial, letting a thick, dark-red liquid fall in heavy drops between the baby's parted lips. The child swallowed instinctively, unaware.
Kushina's voice cracked. "Stop—stop! Get away from him!"
Minato moved instantly, kunai in hand. "Step back from my son."
The figure turned slowly, as if unbothered. Calm. Still. A faint smile curved their lips—almost peaceful.
Kushina's golden chakra chains erupted from her body, lashing toward the intruder with furious speed.
The figure moved faster and the chains met empty air.
Minato charged in a flash of yellow light, kunai aimed for the throat.
A hand intercepted him. The figure struck him across the room with one blow, the impact shattering wooden beams and sending Minato crashing through the wall.
"Minato!" Kushina screamed as the figure suddenly appeared in front of her.
Kushina grabbed the cradle with shaking arms, pulling it to her chest, curling around the baby to shield him. "You're not touching him again!"
The figure reached toward her.
Kushina's chains burst upward in a frantic storm, each one aimed to bind, tear, restrain.
The figure stepped through them like drifting smoke.
A fist struck Kushina's ribs.
Bones cracked.
Blood spilled down her lips.
She still held her son tighter.
Minato reappeared behind the figure, Rasengan roaring in his hand, desperation in his eyes.
"That's my son!"
The spinning sphere slammed into the intruder's back.
It hardly slowed them.
The figure turned and drove a hand into Minato's stomach, lifting him off the ground before throwing him across the room again. His cloak tore, blood spraying across the tatami floor.
Kushina dragged herself forward, chains shaking uncontrollably. "Minato…!"
The figure advanced slowly, unhurried, shadow cast long and sharp across the broken floorboards.
Kushina curled her body over the infant, whispering, "Naruto… don't cry… Mommy's here…"
The figure extended a hand toward them.
Minato flashed into existence between them, broken, bleeding, barely standing. He raised his kunai with one trembling hand.
"You're not taking him."
The figure didn't pause.
A strike pierced Minato's chest.
He gasped, blood dribbling down his chin.
He let himself be pushed backwards, collapsing onto Kushina and the baby, shielding them with his body.
Kushina screamed as she felt his weight grow heavy.
"Minato—Minato—!"
Her chains lashed wildly, weak and shaking, desperately trying to buy another second at the least.
The figure reached out again.
Kushina pushed herself up, holding Naruto tight against her chest, eyes fierce with motherly fury. "If you want him… you'll have to kill me."
The intruder obliged.
The strike was quick.
Kushina's body jerked, then went still. Her arms never loosened, even as strength left them.
The figure stood over the three of them, looming. Watching. Unmoving.
Glancing at the door the figure finally stepped back into the shadows at the far corner of the ruined home, fading silently.
The door burst open. ANBU operatives poured in, their black cloaks brushing the floor, weapons drawn. Hiruzen Sarutobi followed, his face tight with shock and sorrow.
The room was a chaos of broken wood, shattered tatami, and the blood of two heroes lying across the floor.
Hiruzen froze, swallowing hard. "Naruto…" His voice trembled, but he dared not move closer.
The ANBU circled cautiously, sensing something off. One operative knelt beside the cradle, examining the infant.
"He… he has fangs."
Another noticed his hands. "Claws. Tiny… claws."
Hiruzen's jaw tightened. He took a slow step back, keeping his distance, eyes flicking between the child and the room's shadows. Something in him knew: this was no ordinary infant.
Naruto cooed softly, stretching his small fingers and flexing tiny fists. Completely unaware of the blood and bodies surrounding him.
The wind outside whispered through the village streets. Inside, the threads of destiny tightened around the boy in the cradle. Even unseen, even unknown, the weight of the night would follow him for the rest of his life.