"Official business? What kind of business?" Naruto muttered under his breath; a hunch told him this sounded… huge.
"By the way, how's the new house treating you?" Instead of answering, Tsunade changed the subject.
At that, Naruto instantly forgot the solemn mood and the bump on his head, beaming like a child who'd finally gotten the toy of his dreams.
"Yeah! It's amazing! The rooms are huge, the windows are huge, sunlight pours right in—way better than that cramped old apartment! Thanks, Granny Tsunade!"
Uzumaki Naruto looked at Tsunade, gratitude and joy shining openly in his eyes.
To a boy who'd spent years in a drab, chilly little flat, a real "home" was the gift he'd coveted most.
Jiraiya watched that goofy grin and couldn't help smiling in relief.
Tsunade nodded, her tone calm as she dropped a bombshell that would change Naruto's life forever.
"Good—glad it's comfortable. Because… that house belonged to your parents. Now it's back where it belongs."
"…"
The smile froze on Naruto's face.
He blinked his blue eyes, as though he hadn't heard—or couldn't believe—what she'd said.
His expression shifted from puzzled to dazed, then to a tremor of disbelief.
"G-Granny Tsunade?" he asked, voice shaking. "W-what did you just say?"
Seeing him like that, Tsunade softened and repeated gently: "The house you're living in was your father and mother's home. Now it's yours again."
Father… mother… words as distant as the stars slammed into his heart with the weight of a mountain!
He'd always believed he was parentless, the "nine-tails brat" everyone despised.
Never had he imagined… he actually had parents?
And that they'd left him… a house?
A torrent—shock, bewilderment, grievance, and a searing, fragile hope—burst through the dam of his heart.
Hot tears spilled out before he knew it, streaking his cheeks faster than he could wipe them.
Head lowered, shoulders trembling, Naruto cried in silence.
Those tears carried the jolt of learning he had a family, the release of years of loneliness, and a bittersweet sense of finally… belonging.
The office fell quiet except for his muffled sobs.
After a long while he lifted his tear-stained face, eyes swimming and pleading, and croaked, "C-can you tell me… who my parents were?"
Looking into those desperate eyes, Tsunade sighed inwardly.
She bent down, pulled an old wooden box from beneath the desk, and set it solemnly in front of him.
"These are your parents' keepsakes," she said softly. "Take your time looking through them."
She glanced at the equally conflicted Jiraiya, then added, "We'll explain everything about your parents… in a little while."
With that, she signaled Jiraiya and they quietly left the Hokage Office, gently shutting the door behind them.
The vast office now held only Uzumaki Naruto.
He stood unmoving, tear-filled blue eyes fixed on the box as though trying to see through it.
His heart pounded with fearful anticipation.
He was terrified this might be a dream that would shatter at a touch.
At last he wiped his face with his sleeve, drew a deep breath, and stepped forward.
Fingers trembling, he reverently laid a hand on the cool lid.
Click.
The latch popped open.
Naruto held his breath and slowly lifted the lid.
The first thing he saw was a neatly folded, bright-red scarf still vivid with warmth.
The instant he saw it, an inexplicable tug deep in his blood seized him!
He needed no explanation—one certainty blazed in his mind: My mom… knitted this for me.
He pictured a smiling red-haired woman, stitching each thread under lamplight so her unborn child would never feel winter. That long-delayed love crashed through every barrier.
"Mom…" Naruto choked, tears gushing even harder than before.
With shaking hands he lifted the soft scarf as though cradling the world's most precious treasure.
He buried his face in it, soaking in its illusory yet real warmth, then clumsily but earnestly wound it around his neck.
The red scarf brushed his skin, and he felt he could face any cold.
Even though it was summer… Heart steadied, he looked back into the box.
Beneath lay several photos, preserved so well only their edges had yellowed.
He picked up the top one.
In it a golden-haired, confident young man beamed while his arm encircled a beautiful red-haired woman; both glowed with happiness and dreams of the future.
Dad… mom… He'd never met them, but blood sang and their warmth radiated through the picture—he knew without doubt these were his parents!
He devoured their smiles, tears splattering the glass and blooming into watery flowers.
Sniffling, he examined every keepsake, each item whispering that his parents had truly lived.
Naruto sat on the floor, back against the desk, the red scarf clutched to his chest, photos and mementos scattered around him.
He stopped holding back and wailed, a cry filled with boundless grievance and longing…