Chapter 37: Home

Kushina did not put him down until they reached a large house on a quiet street near the edge of the village. The building was two stories, solid wood and stone, with a wide porch and a well-kept garden. Kael stared at it while she pushed the door open with her free hand and dragged him inside.

Wow, he thought. I’m rich.

The interior was warm and lived-in. Shoes lined neatly by the entrance, a few framed photographs on the walls, the faint smell of something cooked earlier in the day. Kushina marched him straight into the living room and finally dropped him onto a chair at the low table.

Across from him, a blond man lowered a newspaper and smiled.

"Oh, look," Minato Namikaze said, voice easy and bright. "Our son has returned."

Kael’s brain stalled again.

Minato. Alive. Sitting there in casual clothes like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Minato’s smile turned a little sheepish. "I thought you were still angry with us. Leaving for a mission without even saying goodbye... that hurt a bit, you know."

Kael opened his mouth and the same stunned question slipped out before he could stop it.

"You’re alive?"

Kushina’s fist connected with the top of his head for the second time that day.

"Did something happen to your brain?!" she snapped. "That’s the second time you’ve said that!"

Minato reached over and caught her wrist before the third hit could land. "Kushina, if you keep punching his head something actually might happen to his brain."

She huffed but let her hand drop.

Kael sat there rubbing the fresh sore spot, staring at the two of them. Internally the thoughts came in a messy rush.

Thank God they’re alive. This makes everything so much easier. No dead parents, no lonely orphan childhood, no village full of people who hated him for something he never did. The whole tragic backstory that had defined Naruto in the anime was simply... gone. He knew he was not a particularly sentimental person. Most of the relief he felt was practical. Living with two powerful, loving parents in a big house was a massive upgrade from the empty apartment and instant noodles. But somewhere underneath the selfish calculation, a smaller part of him was genuinely glad. These two people got to keep their son and their life together. That felt right.

He cleared his throat.

"Can I go to my room?"

The calm, almost quiet way he asked it made both of them freeze for a second. The Naruto they knew would have been loud, dramatic, maybe already complaining about the head punches or demanding ramen. This version just sat there looking tired and polite.

Minato recovered first. "Uh... okay. Sure."

Kael stood up, gave them a short nod, and headed for the stairs.

Behind him he heard Kushina’s voice drop to a worried murmur.

"You know... I think something really did happen to his head when he was in the hospital."

Minato’s quiet reply floated up the stairs. "Yeah. I think so too."

Kael found the first door on the upper floor and pushed it open. A spacious room with a queen-sized bed, neat shelves, and soft afternoon light coming through the window. Definitely not a teenager’s room. He closed it again and kept walking.

The next door had a small wooden sign nailed to it at an angle: Do Not Enter.

That one felt right.

He stepped inside.

The room was lived-in and personal. Posters and sketches covered parts of the walls. On one side a whole series of framed paintings and photographs hung in chronological order—Naruto as a small child with bright eyes and a wide grin, then a few years older covered in dirt and smiling anyway, then as a teenager making peace signs with friends, and finally recent ones of him as a young adult looking more settled. In every single image the boy looked happy. Truly happy. No forced smiles, no lonely shadows behind the eyes.

Kael stood there for a long moment, just looking.

His favorite character, the one who had suffered through so much pain and rejection in every version he had ever watched or read, had somehow gotten a clean, warm life in this world. Parents. A real home. People who cared.

He felt a quiet, complicated ache in his chest.

I’m sorry, he told the boy in the pictures, even though no one could hear it. Sorry for taking over a life that finally looks this good. In which you finally looked so happy.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and let the silence of the room settle around him.

Outside, somewhere downstairs, he could hear the soft sounds of his new parents talking in low voices. The house felt solid and safe. For the first time since waking up in this world, the constant background tension in his shoulders eased a little.

He still had no idea how any of this was possible.

But for now, he was home.

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Give me power!!!