Naruto Uzumaki squinted at the page in front of him like it had just personally insulted him. The textbook was thick, heavy, and painfully dull, a relic of the ninja academy days he'd barely scraped through the first time. The title—Advanced Shinobi Governance and Legal Frameworks—made his eyes glaze over before he even hit the table of contents.
"Iruka-sensei," he groaned under his breath, "why are you doing this to me…"
He leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking beneath his weight, and flexed the bandaged synthetic arm that rested awkwardly across his lap. A strange hybrid of chakra engineering and old-school medical ninjutsu, the thing was both a marvel and a burden. Granny Tsunade and Sakura had done their best—poured in hours of work, intricate seals, and chakra thread—until what had once been a gory stump was now something… usable. But it wasn't the same.
He remembered waking up in the hospital after the Valley of the End battle, groggy and aching from chakra exhaustion, his body a mess of burns and bruises. What he remembered most though, was the emptiness—he'd reached for ramen with both hands and realized only one moved.
Sasuke had been lying next to him, silent as stone, stubborn as hell. They'd both lost an arm that day, but Sasuke had refused the offer of a prosthetic outright. Said it was her burden to bear. Some poetic, guilt-drenched crap like that.
Naruto hadn't taken no for an answer.
It took a week to drag Sasuke to the medical compound. She kicked, punched, cursed, and at one point, bit him hard enough to break skin—but he didn't let go. "I'm not letting you walk around half a person when you can be whole," he'd shouted through a black eye and a split lip. "We didn't survive everything just so you could wallow in self-hate, you idiot!"
In the end, Sakura drugged her. Granny Tsunade strapped her down. Naruto watched over the whole damn thing, bleeding and smiling like an idiot.
Now, Sasuke was in a dungeon—technically. More like a very fancy, chakra-sealed underground suite beneath the Hokage Tower. Her Sharingan eyes sealed with a special genjutsu-lock developed by the Yamanaka clan, her arms bound in high-grade chakra restraints, layers of protective seals wrapped around her like bandages. Some called it overkill. Others called it mercy.
Naruto just called it temporary.
She was still an international criminal, after all. Couldn't exactly sweep the whole "tried to kill the Five Kage" thing under the rug, no matter how much goodwill Naruto had stored up from saving the damn world. Her last stand in the Land of Iron had been nothing short of a catastrophe. She'd arrived like a storm, spouting some nonsense about centralized power and shinobi unity under a single ruler. After Kaguya and Madara, she'd become convinced the old system was broken beyond repair—and she wanted to burn it all down and rebuild.
With herself on top.
She'd fought like a demon, every strike precise, brutal. The Raikage had nearly lost a leg. The Tsuchikage still had nightmares. Mei Terumi's hair had caught fire—she hadn't forgiven that. Only Gaara, quiet, calm Gaara, had hesitated—had looked at Naruto with something like a question in his eyes and stepped back.
The Daimyōs were rattled. The council was screaming for blood. Execution was on the table. It had taken everything Kakashi had—everything Naruto could bargain, threaten, and beg for—to stop it.
He'd stared down angry Kage and stubborn nobles with that same stupid grin and said, "You want to punish her? Fine. But not with death. Not with erasing someone who chose to come back."
And yeah, maybe it was unfair. Maybe it was favoritism. But it was Sasuke.
Sasuke, who once protected him with her life. Sasuke, who had cried alone in the dark for a family torn apart. Sasuke, who had tried to shoulder the world's hatred just so no one else had to. Who had gone too far. Done too much. Burned too many bridges.
But Naruto had always been in the water, waiting on the other side, hand outstretched.
Still, all that wasn't going to get him out of studying.
He looked back at the book with a sigh and forced himself to read the same sentence for the third time. Something about shinobi jurisdiction and land-specific tax policies. Ugh.
His stomach growled. His brain itched. His arm ached.
"Being Hokage sucks," he muttered.
He imagined Kakashi-sensei lounging somewhere in the Hokage office, flipping through one of those orange books with a lazy smile. That masked bastard had practically handed Naruto a to-do list a mile long and vanished behind bureaucratic smoke bombs.
Naruto scratched his head, eyes drifting to the window. Outside, Konoha buzzed. Vendors shouted. Kids played ninja in the street. The Village Hidden in the Leaves had never looked more peaceful.
And underneath it all, in the belly of the Tower, his best friend waited.
They hadn't let him see her since the surgery. Said it was for his own good. Said she needed isolation, evaluation. Naruto had pushed, but not hard enough. Not yet. But the ache was building. Every day without her face, her voice, even her dumb scowl, made it worse.
Still, he kept his head down. Because if he wanted to protect her—really protect her—he had to be more than just a hero. He had to be a leader. A man the world listened to. The Hokage.
So he picked up the book, clenched his jaw, and started reading aloud.
"Chapter Three: The Shinobi Council and Legislative Authority in Post-War Konoha…"
One step at a time.
—T~T—
The late afternoon sun cut golden slants through the blinds of the Hokage's office, warming dust motes that drifted lazily in the still air. Kakashi Hatake leaned back in his chair, eye narrowing slightly behind the edge of his ever-present book, the spine now forgotten against his gloved thumb. On his desk lay a freshly opened scroll marked with the seal of Kumogakure—bold, black ink, aggressive like its sender.
His other hand rested on the report from Amegakure. A fragile mess, that one. After Nagato and Konan had fallen, the power vacuum left in their wake had become a festering wound. Various warlords, rogue rain-nin, and ambitious petty lords had all tried claiming the ruins of Ame, but the people—traumatized, rain-soaked, and exhausted—refused to trust anyone beyond their borders.
Ame was breaking apart, quietly and in pieces. And yet Naruto, stubborn as he was, had made a promise. A promise to Nagato. A promise to rebuild what was broken.
Kakashi exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple.
He didn't blame the villagers for their mistrust. After being manipulated by Akatsuki, betrayed by both peace and war alike, they had locked themselves behind high walls and a hundred thousand rainy nights. No amount of Leaf emissaries or humanitarian aid could pierce that shell. Not yet, anyway. But Naruto believed in it. Believed in them. And if Kakashi had learned anything from his student, it was that you don't bet against Naruto Uzumaki.
Just then, the door creaked open. Shizune strode in, dressed sharp as always, dark eyes already apologetic. She carried a heavy parchment like a funeral scroll, rolling it out as she approached.
"The Raikage sent it," she said dryly. "Again."
Kakashi didn't need her to elaborate.
He sighed—deep, tired, the kind of sigh that seemed to press years into his shoulders. "Let me guess," he muttered. "A heartfelt plea for unity and understanding?"
Shizune snorted. "More like a blood-soaked tantrum."
Kakashi skimmed the message. It was the same as before—thinly veiled demands for justice, wrapped in diplomatic language that fooled no one. The Raikage wanted Sasuke Uchiha's head on a plate. Or, barring that, her body in a cell. A Kumo cell.
"They want her Sharingan," Kakashi said flatly. "That's all it's ever been. The rest is just window dressing."
"And her bloodline," Shizune added, voice taut with disgust. "They want to breed her."
Kakashi didn't say anything for a long moment. His visible eye hardened, gaze drifting past the edges of the scroll, toward something much darker.
"Kumo's always had a taste for bloodlines," Shizune continued, tone sharp now. "They tried to kidnap Hinata when she was a child. Neji's father died because of it. Now this."
"Shameless," Kakashi murmured.
He could already imagine the arguments. "She's dangerous." "She attacked the Five Kage." "She's unstable." All technically true. All irrelevant. Because what the Raikage wanted wasn't justice—it was leverage. Kekkei Genkai. Military advantage. A weapon with the Uchiha name.
"And they're not alone," Shizune added, leaning forward. "Iwa and Kiri have been whispering behind closed doors. Same concerns. Same suggestions. No one's said it outright yet, but... they're waiting. For a moment of weakness. For Naruto to lose his grip. For us to flinch."
"And the Samurai?"
"They remember the Land of Iron. She made fools of them at the Summit. Killed a few of their number. Their pride's still bleeding."
Kakashi closed the scroll with a flick of his wrist, setting it aside like a pile of garbage. He didn't need to reread the threats painted as diplomacy. What he needed was time—and time was running out.
"The only thing keeping them from taking matters into their own hands," Shizune said quietly, "is Naruto. He saved them. He saved all of us. And they know it."
Kakashi leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, hands steepled beneath his chin.
"Then we use that," he said simply. "His goodwill is currency. As long as he stands by her, they won't dare act openly. But we can't count on that lasting forever."
"We need a plan," Shizune agreed.
"No," Kakashi said, voice low. "We need a decision."
He stood, straightening his coat. The hat of the Sixth sat idle on the shelf, untouched today. Some symbols weighed heavier than steel.
"Summon the councillors," he said. "The elders. The clan heads. Even the civilian representatives. Tell them it's urgent."
Shizune paused. "It's really come to this?"
Kakashi met her eyes, calm and clear.
"Sasuke Uchiha is a threat. She's also a hero. A war criminal and a war survivor. We can't pretend she's not both. So we decide what she is to us now—Konoha's responsibility, or Konoha's liability."
"And if the council votes to hand her over?"
He didn't hesitate. "Then we'll deal with that when it comes. But I won't let a decision be made in silence."
Shizune nodded, bowing slightly. "Understood."
She turned to leave, but paused at the door. "Naruto's not going to like this."
"No," Kakashi said, settling back into his chair. "He won't. But he deserves to know what we're up against. And he'll fight harder because of it."
The door closed with a soft thud behind her, and Kakashi let the silence settle around him again. Outside, the village hummed—peaceful, thriving, and oblivious to the storm creeping just beneath the surface.
He reached for the Ame report again, but his hand hesitated. Instead, he stared out the window, eyes distant. The world had been saved, yes. But it hadn't healed.
And wounds left untreated always fester.
—T~T—
Naruto slouched over the book like it owed him money, eyes heavy, the words blurring into a meaningless string of bureaucratic nonsense. His synthetic arm throbbed dully beneath the bandages, tinged with chakra pulses that he still hadn't gotten used to. Every few minutes, he'd shift or scratch at it, fingers too numb or too twitchy to control. The paper smelled like old ink and depression.
In the back of his mind, Kurama yawned loudly.
"You know," the fox drawled, "you may have your dad's hair, but you're definitely your mother's idiot child. What kind of Hokage-in-training nearly sets himself on fire trying to cook rice?"
"Shut up," Naruto muttered.
"And you read slower than a tree grows. If you didn't have chakra, I'd worry your brain stopped working altogether."
Naruto was mid-eye-roll when a knock came from the door.
He blinked, surprised. Not many people came to his apartment without warning. He got up, cracked his shoulder with a wince, and shuffled over. As he opened the door, he was met with the soft sound of fabric shifting and the gentle scent of herbs and lavender.
Hinata stood there, her hands twisting the hem of her jacket, her cheeks flushed pink beneath the long bangs that framed her pale face. She held a cloth-wrapped lunchbox in both hands, eyes flickering up to meet his for just a second before darting back down again.
"H-Hey, Naruto-kun," she said quickly, bowing slightly. "I—I hope I'm not interrupting… I just… um…"
Naruto blinked, then smiled, warmth creeping into his tired eyes. "Oh, hey Hinata! Nah, you're not interrupting at all. Come in, come in." He stepped aside, but she hesitated on the threshold.
"I… I brought you something," she said, lifting the lunchbox like a shy offering. "I made too much for lunch, and I remembered how busy you've been lately, so… I thought maybe you hadn't eaten…"
He took the box gently, fingers brushing against hers, and gave her a sheepish grin. "Thanks, really. I've been so swamped with all this… paperwork junk, I haven't had time to go out for food. And this arm—" He flexed the synthetic limb with a dramatic grimace, "—still acts up sometimes. I burned a whole pan of eggs this morning. It smelled like the inside of Gai-sensei's training shoes."
Hinata giggled softly, covering her mouth with her hand. Her shoulders relaxed just a little.
"If… if you want, I can b-bring food for you daily…" she said, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes locked on a fascinating spot on his carpet.
Naruto blinked, caught off guard, then rubbed the back of his neck, bashful. "Aw, you don't have to do that, y'know! I mean, I don't wanna trouble you."
"I-It's not trouble," Hinata said quickly. "I—I'd be happy to. Really."
Naruto opened his mouth to reply when a sudden thud made them both jump. The sound had come from the window.
He turned his head—and there, pressed awkwardly against the glass like a bird who hadn't quite mastered landing, was Sai.
Naruto frowned. "Why is he knocking on my window…?"
Hinata blinked. "Oh—um—hello, Sai!" she said, waving politely.
Sai tilted his head, blinked once, then said with the grace of a thrown rock, "Who are you again?"
Naruto turned so fast it looked like he got slapped by the question. "OI! That's Hinata! Y'know—Hinata Hyūga?! She was there, Sai! During the war! She saved my life! What's wrong with you?!"
Hinata's smile faltered like a candle in the wind, and she looked down again, her voice quiet. "It's okay…"
Sai remained expressionless. "I see. I apologize. I have trouble remembering people who do not have distinctive features."
Naruto looked like he was about to blow a gasket. "She's got the freakin' Byakugan! That's pretty damn distinctive!"
Sai nodded thoughtfully. "Ah. Yes. Eyes like a dead fish. Now I recall."
"WHAT—?!"
Hinata, red as a tomato, looked like she wanted to sink into the floor.
But Sai was already moving on. "Regardless, Lord Hokage has summoned you, Naruto. It's urgent. I was told to come find you immediately."
Naruto's frustration sputtered as the weight of those words hit him. His mouth closed. He set the lunchbox gently down on his desk, already reaching for his jacket.
"Thanks for coming, Sai," he said, more serious now. "Tell Kakashi-sensei I'm on my way."
Sai nodded once and vanished like a ghost—straight out the window again.
Naruto turned back to Hinata, offering an apologetic grin. "Sorry 'bout that. Sai's… well, he's weird. But he means well. Kinda."
Hinata shook her head quickly. "No, it's okay. I should be going anyway."
He looked at her, saw the flicker of sadness still clinging to her eyes, and hesitated.
"Hey," he said softly. "Thanks again. For the food. And for coming by."
She smiled—small, but real this time. "You're welcome, Naruto-kun."
He watched her go, her steps quiet and a little too quick. Then he grabbed his forehead protector, slung his jacket over his shoulder, and took one last glance at the steaming lunchbox on his table.
"Guess I'll eat it on the way."
Kurama stirred lazily in his gut.
"You better keep her. She's too good for you."
Naruto didn't answer, but the grin on his face lingered as he leapt out the window after Sai.
—T~T—
Naruto jogged up the stairs of the Hokage Tower, wind tossing his blond hair as the village bustled behind him, oblivious to the weight hanging above its hero's head. He rubbed at his tired eyes—Hinata's bento box had kept him from starving, but no amount of miso rice and sweet egg could brace him for the kind of summons Kakashi-sensei had sent.
He reached the top landing where Izumo and Kotetsu stood on either side of the doors, like always. But they weren't their usual lazy, half-smirking selves. They didn't throw a teasing jab or a sarcastic comment about his latest stunt. Instead, both of them were solemn. Too solemn.
Naruto slowed, furrowed his brows. "Yo," he said, trying to sound casual. "You guys look like someone kicked your cat."
Neither laughed.
"What's wrong?"
Izumo shifted, uncomfortable. Kotetsu looked down at the floor.
"Nothing," Izumo muttered. "All the best, hero."
Hero.
That word stung when they said it like that. Like it didn't mean what it used to. Like it couldn't fix what was coming.
Naruto frowned. "Alright…"
He stepped past them and pushed open the doors.
The Hokage's office was quieter than usual, and that was saying something. The walls, decorated with mission maps and old scrolls, felt tighter, closer. Like the air was holding its breath.
Kakashi sat behind his desk in the center, Hokage robes pristine, face unreadable. Beside him, sitting with one long leg crossed over the other, was Lady Tsunade—arms folded, scowl carved into her face like stone. On the couch behind her sat Sakura, posture straight but hands clenched tightly in her lap.
Shikamaru stood near the corner, his face drawn, eyes sharp and shadowed. Shizune lingered behind Kakashi's chair, face pale.
It felt like a war council.
Naruto stepped inside slowly. "Yo," he greeted. "Why's everyone here?"
Then he caught the look on Sakura's face. The tension in Tsunade's shoulders. The way Shikamaru wouldn't meet his eyes.
He stiffened. "Is it Ame? Did they reject the aid offer again? Another civil war brewing?"
Kakashi shook his head. "It's nothing like that."
Naruto's voice hardened. "Then what?"
Kakashi's single visible eye met his. Calm, steady, tired.
"It's about Sasuke."
The words hit like a punch to the gut. Naruto's jaw clenched. He didn't need the rest.
"They want her execution, huh?"
No one answered. They didn't need to.
Naruto's voice rose, angrier now, paced with frustration. "She helped stop Madara! She fought Kaguya with us! Yeah, she was a damn asshole, and yeah, she screwed up—a lot—but without her, none of us would be standing here right now!"
Kakashi didn't flinch. "I know."
"I was in a virtual summit early this morning," he continued. "The Shinobi Union—Raikage, Tsuchikage, Mizukage, and even some of the Daimyō—have voted. They've declared her an international criminal and ruled for her immediate execution."
Naruto's hands curled into fists at his sides. Those ungrateful bastards.
Rage sparked behind his eyes. Not because they were wrong to fear Sasuke, but because they were cowards who wanted a clean, easy end to something they didn't understand. Killing her wouldn't bring peace. It'd just bury another mistake.
But Naruto knew he couldn't declare war. Not for this. Not again.
"I read something in a book," he said suddenly, desperation giving way to inspiration. "We can fake it. Say she's dead—executed or something—but we actually just keep her hidden. Safe. Somewhere remote. No one has to know."
Tsunade scoffed. "That's stupid, brat."
Naruto's head snapped toward her. "What? Why?!"
"Because secrets don't stay buried forever. And the second one person slips, she'll be hunted like a stray dog. Do you want her looking over her shoulder every day of her life?"
Naruto growled low in his throat, slamming his real hand on Kakashi's desk. "Then what?! We can't just let her die!"
Kakashi closed his book, voice measured. "I have a solution."
Naruto stared. "...I'm listening."
"You're not going to like it," Kakashi added. "And Sasuke might hate it more than anyone."
Naruto took a breath. "Will it save her life?"
"Yes."
"Will she be free?"
"Yes."
"Will she be hunted? Or used by someone else?"
"Not if we do this right."
Naruto nodded, jaw set. "Alright, let's do it."
Sakura blinked. "Wait—don't you want to hear what the plan actually is?"
Naruto shrugged, eyes blazing with conviction. "Oh, obviously, y'know. I just figured I'd say yes first."
Tsunade groaned.
Kakashi leaned back in his chair, fingertips pressed together.
"You have to marry her."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Naruto froze.
Everything stopped. The air. The chakra. Even Kurama in his gut went dead silent.
"I'm sorry?" he said, blinking.
Kakashi repeated, completely straight-faced. "You have to marry Sasuke."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Naruto stared like he'd just been told to arm-wrestle a mountain.
Shikamaru muttered, "Man, this is such a drag."
"Wait—what the hell kind of plan is that?!"
"It's political," Kakashi said, calmly laying out the impossible. "If Sasuke becomes your spouse, she legally becomes a citizen under your protection. Not as a shinobi—she'll be stripped of her rank and status—but as the wife of the Hero of the War. No nation, not even Kumo, will challenge that. Not openly. And with you being the future Hokage…"
"It'll be a diplomatic nightmare if anyone tries to touch her," Shikamaru finished.
Naruto stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out how the hell his life had gotten here. He'd expected paperwork. Maybe a mission. Not marriage.
"And what about what Sasuke wants?" he asked.
"She'll hate it," Sakura admitted. "She'll probably try to kill you."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Naruto muttered.
"But she'll be alive," Tsunade said softly.
Naruto rubbed his face. His hand dragged through his hair.
"…Are we talking like… actual marriage, or… paper marriage?"
"That's up to the two of you," Kakashi said. "All I need is the signature and the ceremony. The rest is your problem."
Naruto sat down hard in the chair across from Kakashi's desk.
He had faced Madara, Obito and Kaguya. Monsters. The death of his mentors. He had held Sasuke's bleeding body in his arms at the Valley of the End. He had walked through hell for this world.
And now, apparently, he had to get married to save it.
"…Do I at least get a tux?"