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Tritheism by KristabelRTR

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Chapter notes: This story was originally posted eons ago on ff.net, then reposted into a drabble/oneshot dump there, then deleted and ultimately forgotten about until just now. I started writing it during the 2008/2009 about a lifetime and a half ago, so a lot of the goings on of the story are absolutely 100% not canon and no fucks will be given over it.

Consider it AU.

Tritheism:
Definition: Belief of a Trinity, especially one
of three separate divinities.

Prologue

There was no way he had let this happen. There had to be some mistake. Crawling, he drug his body across the craggy battlefield left behind in Kyuubi's wake. The use of the Dead Demon Consuming Seal had taken a lot out of the young Hokage, but then again, he wasn't entirely sure if he had used it at all. Minato knew well enough that the proper use of the jutsu was supposed to leave him dead, his soul locked in eternal conflict within the belly of the great shiningami. That wasn't the case however and unless the Death God's stomach looked eerily like the outskirts of Konoha, Minato knew he had definitely done something wrong. That was the thing about jutsu that killed the user; there was never a chance to practice.

Still, he had to have done something right, despite the fact that he was still very much alive. The Demon Fox was gone, the enormous fiery beast having vanished from sight the moment that Yondaime Hokage had cast his faulty jutsu. That's enough to be thankful for, thought the blond man, still set at his grueling crawl towards the center of what remained of the forest. He didn't dare be thankful for his life. Not yet.

Grunting painfully, Minato cursed his lack of chakra. He felt so weak and drained as he inched his way towards what he hoped was still a gurgling, happy baby. He could feel the gritty dirt ripping into his palms as he pulled his body's dead weight along. Minato groaned and shifted to his elbows, worming into a sort of army crawl in an effort to preserve the skin of his hands. Almost there. Almost.

The Hokage collapsed face down in the dirt when he reached his destination. He could tell his legs wouldn't be working properly for a while yet; the Dead Demon Seal had used so much of his chakra, he was truthfully rather shocked that the sudden depletion alone hadn't killed him. Allowing himself a moment of rest, Minato took a handful of ragged breaths before forcing himself up into a squat. It didn't last long before he plopped back onto his bum, his crystal blue eyes resting soulfully on the tiny body beside him. With movements so slow they could be mistaken for timidity, Yondaime reached out and scooped up the tiny blond corpse where it lay, cradling the infant to his chest.

"Naruto," he croaked through the tears that were beginning to brim past the barrier of his eyes. He was of course was aware of the rule that said shinobi didn't cry, but at that moment in time, he wasn't a ninja. At that moment Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage, was a father, and daddies sometimes cried for their children. His tears fell with a muffled splash on the child's stomach over the spot where the failed seal was fully visible against the babe's milky white skin. Minato shrugged one arm and then the other out of his flame trimmed coat, pulling the bulky fabric into his lap and nestling his son within the folds. This was not what the man had intended. This wasn't what any man could ever intend for his child. Gently, he reached down and stroked the boy's bloody cheek. Three deep wounds were formed symmetrically on either side of his face, whisker marks that would have scarified into ridged lines had he lived to be the jinchuuriki his father tried to make him. Heart wrenched, Yondaime closed the blue eyes so similar to his own, unwilling to look at the glassy orbs that still seemed to contain the fear the baby had surely felt.

They remained there for a long time, the father silently absorbing what he had done and replaying the battle continuously in his mind. What could he have done differently? Was there even something he could do to have changed the ultimate outcome? A kunai to be thrown a different direction? A clone not to be made? Minato could feel his muscles stiffening as his battered body began to heal itself. Carefully, he shifted the infant in his arms, sorrowfully realizing that the phenomenon of rigor mortis had transformed Naruto into a hardened lump of stony flesh. Fresh tears picked at his eyes. He waited for his ability to control himself to return before he felt it was time to try standing on his own two feet again. While he wasn't sure just how long he and Naruto had been there, he knew it must have been a good amount of time for his chakra to have already replenished.

The Yondaime didn't waver when he stood, though he did stumble slightly when he took a step. He wasn't nearly up to par, but he knew he needed to get back to the village. Wrapping the loose ends of his coat around his son's body, he clutched him all the tighter as he began to walk slowly towards the village. There was a profound limp in his gait where the Fox had gotten a good jab at his hip, but other than that, he was in relatively good condition.

It should be me, Minato thought guiltily, eyes once again captivated by the sight of his dead son as he glanced down. The wind caught the soft tufts of blond hair that crowned Naruto's head and tousled them eerily. The motion was too lifelike, the body was too still. He grunted as his footing failed and jarred his injured hip, but he did not cry out. As Minato neared the Village Hidden in the Leaves he became the perfect picture of a stoic shinobi, though his inner screams and anguish filled his ears with echoes of it should be me.


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