When Mo Ke first grasped shinigami power, even at B rank he could already see a path toward A rank, the realm of super Kage.
Pure shinigami force had limits. Even someone like Aizen, before his flight from Soul Society, felt the edge of that system pressing in. He did what Orochimaru did in another world, stepped into the cold light of experimentation. The routes differed from Naruto's world, yet the ambition tasted the same.
Aizen's answer was fusion, not bloodline regression. He reached for the Soul King's mystery and for power as old as that myth. The Hōgyoku would come later. Before that, he asked a simpler question. What happens when a shinigami wears a hollow's mask.
Mo Ke did not have hollow power, but he did have chakra.
Chakra is the great solvent. It fights, heals, blends with nature energy. One part spirit to one part world, that union births Sage Mode, a cousin to the mask, paint in one tale and a mask in another, same idea at the spine.
Mo Ke's shinigami force looked dark yet flowed steady. It had been the anchor that suppressed the Nine Tails' violent chakra after memory fusion. The trick was simple. Keep the true self apart from the surging sea so the tide could not flood the mind.
Now he meant to do the opposite. He would lower the wall, then fuse the two. Like a mask, like Sage Mode, a new power would be born and the ceiling would crack.
Whether the plan would work, he could not know. The story's fuse burned shorter each day. He would begin.
He drew his main awareness from outside the gate back into the body within. His outer split fell to sleep with a single instinct left behind. Should danger rise, it would kick the true body awake. At this stage Konoha held little risk for Naruto.
Half a year ago he had already swapped, leaving his core outside while the great fox within trained like a machine. Spiritons layered into spiritual pressure, always on. Armament Haki sheathed the furred body. The Nine Tails' chakra was not allowed to idle either. He let it rampage, gnawing at the body that haki guarded, then let the fox's legendary regeneration knit every wound.
Break, then heal. Break, then heal again. Day after day.
The fox does have a body. Naruto's later manifest form makes that clear. Under this half year of tempering, flesh and haki climbed together. And Mo Ke's spiritual power, three years of relentless practice, finally stood shoulder to shoulder with his chakra in sheer volume.
Consciousness returned, and the Nine Tails uncoiled inside the gate, a mountain of red fur sprawled across the still water. The longer he had trained, the deeper the mix had sunk. Chakra and spirit had even seeped into every hair. Once orange, the coat burned now like fresh flame.
White fox at a thousand years, red at ten thousand. One look at that pelt warned strangers away.
A hiss slipped from his fangs. The pain arrived late and then all at once. Leaving the body had made training less numbing, a cheat of sorts. Like shadow clones, the aches and fatigue gathered while he was gone and crashed back when he returned.
After a long minute his breath steadied. He shook himself like a dog after rain, spiraled his head until the dizziness broke, then stretched every limb until the tightness loosened. When his state felt perfect, he settled low on the mirror lake and sank inward, ready to braid chakra and spirit.
"Ah. I forgot to say something to Naruto." He paused, then let the thought go. "He has friends now, and this should not take long."
…
The same out of the way training field lay empty near dusk. Snow drifted down. Naruto did not mind the loneliness. He stripped off his shirt and ran laps.
His friends had begun their clan exercises and came to the public grounds less often. Breath steamed from Naruto's body. Snowflake after snowflake kissed his skin and vanished against hot muscle. He was still small, yet his belly showed the outline of its future shape.
Mercifully he was not bulking like a Cloud strongman. Mo Ke's iron coaching had taught him to buy vegetables, cook rice, and respect broth. Instant ramen was now a treat, not a lifestyle, though the addiction was real and every few days he surrendered with a grin.
He eased off as he reached his goal, decelerating into a walk. Never stop dead after hard work, Mo Ke had said. He bundled on his shirt, looped the red scarf around his neck, then set the red framed goggles over his hair and adjusted their angle. Perhaps because of Mo Ke's crimson hair, this life's Naruto favored red instead of that drab yellow tracksuit.
Thinking of Mo Ke, Naruto puffed his cheeks. His birthday had been more than ten days ago. Since then, silence.
"What is Dad even doing. He has been lying there forever. He does not answer no matter how I shout."
"Impossible. He cannot have died of old age. No way. Grandpa Third has white hair and he is not dead. Dad does not even have one white strand. He cannot be dead. Maybe he was hurt long ago."
The more he thought, the faster his heart raced. He had planned on Ichiraku tonight. No chance now. He sprinted home.
The door banged open. Shoes flew. Naruto did not even shed his damp coat before hopping onto the bed. He tamped down his panic, dove inward and stepped into the seal.
He had not finished forming when he bolted to Mo Ke's side. He tried the nose like a book taught him, then scrambled up and pressed his ear to Mo Ke's chest.
Only asleep. Relief flooded him.
"So much for Nine Tailed Celestial Fox. You are a Nine Tailed Pig, dattebayo. Who sleeps like this and never wakes up. I was worried sick."
His stomach growled. If Dad was sleeping, that meant ramen tonight. Decision made.
He turned to leave, then stopped and glanced at the giant cage beside the bed, rails like a forest. Mo Ke had told him this was where the true body lived. He had always wondered. The gaps were far wider than the fox, yet Mo Ke said he was trapped inside.
Mo Ke did not let Naruto come near the gate. He never said why. Only that it was not time.
A black vault and a hungry curiosity. He was three. He was still Naruto.
He hesitated for a heartbeat, then slid off the bed and padded to the gate. He ran a hand along the massive frame, murmuring little sounds of awe.
After Mo Ke's clone spilled out beyond the bars he had redone everything inside. No more sewer. He had given himself a neat little apartment and turned the gate into a Shinto torii worthy of a shrine. It was all projection, so long as he did not tamper with the seal itself, he could dress it up as he liked.
Each pillar was as thick as a grown man's waist and ran straight into the sky. The gaps could have fit two Narutos shoulder to shoulder. Naruto raised a hand to shade his eyes and peered in through the dark. The apartment behind him shone like day, yet not a sliver of light entered that blackness.
He stared and saw nothing. He tried to squeeze between two bars and bounced off an invisible wall. No matter how he twisted, he could not slip through.
"Che. Big deal. Looks weird, that's all."
Boredom came quick. Then his brow lifted. He remembered something else set on the gate.
He trotted to the center and looked up. There, a yellowed slip with a single character for "seal" hung on the middle beam. In this world Minato had not left a key, so there was no keyhole. Perhaps Mo Ke's presence had spooked him. The hope of peace between Naruto and the fox had been set aside.
"What ugly writing. Did Dad write that. 'Seal'. Is this the gate's name tag."
"So ugly."
An idea struck. He dashed to the study, grabbed a brush, and scrawled his own bold "seal" on fresh paper. He rolled it up, thought to bite it, worried about drool, then tucked it into the back of his collar.
He spat in his palms, hugged the frame, and tested his grip. The beam here was slightly wider than the pillars, but his little arms just managed to catch both edges. He pushed off and climbed.
The tag was about ten meters up. All that training had made him a tiny powerhouse. He scuttled to a stop beneath it, pinned the frame with his knees, kept one hand for balance, and drew his paper from his collar. He measured it against the yellow slip and found his sheet smaller.
It would look silly to paste it over. He tucked his paper away and reached for the old tag to peel it off.
A few more pushes and he was high enough. His fingers caught the edge, lifted a fraction.
"Pop."
Air cracked softly. A figure appeared floating at his side.
Naruto's eyes went wide.
Red hair flowed like a banner. A beautiful woman hovered in the air, her face familiar in a way he could not name. That face was full of fire, and all the anger was aimed right at him.
Guilty conscience met thundercloud. His hands and feet turned to water. He slipped free of the beam and fell.
Mo Ke's remodel had drained the endless puddle from the floor. Naruto squeezed his eyes shut, ready for the hard smack and a lot of pain.
One second. Two.
No pain. Warmth.
A pair of arms caught him. He opened his eyes slowly.
The red haired woman held him, smiling down at him, anger vanished. There was a feeling in that smile he had not felt in years. It was strange, yet it tugged at a memory even older than he was. Someone had smiled at him like that, long ago.
He wriggled free, hopped back a step, pointed at her and stammered, all words lost in surprise.
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