Chapter One: The Old Fox and the New World
Life, Naruto mused, was a strange little beast. One moment you were a scrappy, ramen-loving troublemaker trying to paint the Hokage faces with questionable graffiti, and the next—you were the Hokage. The Hero of the World. The man who literally punched peace into the planet. And then, well… you were still alive. Still here. And slowly, painfully, everyone else wasn't.
Two hundred years was a long time. Even the most hardened shinobi would admit that after a while, time began to wear you down like a tide smudging old sand drawings. Naruto had seen centuries pass like seasons—bright and colourful, then quietly slipping into grey. His golden hair, once wild and sunlit, was now stark white. He had more wrinkles than Konohamaru had patience, and still, not one person dared call him old man.
(Okay, maybe Konohamaru did, but only once. He still had a limp.)
Despite his years, Naruto was buff—absurdly so, in fact. He still trained every morning, cracked the ground with his kicks, and did pushups on one hand with a cup of tea balanced on the other. But strength wasn't everything, not anymore. Not when your heart felt hollow and your laughter echoed with ghosts.
His beloved Hinata… gone.
Sasuke, Sakura, Kakashi… all gone.
Even the mighty Kurama had grown quieter. Not weaker—no, never that—but… gentler. Like even the great Nine-Tails had grown tired of seeing his jinchūriki mourn.
And so, one bright morning, with the sun painting the sky in gentle amber and the village bustling with a rhythm Naruto no longer understood, he stood before his children.
Boruto—old and stiff, but still annoyingly cocky.
Himawari—her eyes as soft as her mother's, even behind reading glasses perched on her nose.
They weren't children anymore, not really. But they were his. His legacy. His last ties to a world he no longer wished to rule.
"Boruto, Himawari… I will let you take care of everything."
They nodded—sad, resigned, but understanding.
"Kurama… take care of them, old friend."
And just like that, he turned. No grand speeches, no war cry. Just a gentle step into the unknown, as space shimmered and bent to his will. With a flicker of chakra and a tear in the fabric of reality, Naruto Uzumaki—the Old Fox of Konoha—stepped out of his world and into another.
He landed in a tree.
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If life were a book—and Naruto sometimes liked to think it was—this would be the part where the hero, weathered but not worn, decided to chase wonder instead of wars.
After centuries of holding the world together with sheer will and chakra-infused stubbornness, Naruto had chosen a new dream. Not peace, not power, not legacy.
But adventure.
Not the explosive kind with bijuu bombs and ancient immortals—not anymore. No, he wanted the kind that came with sunrises in strange lands, spicy food that left your mouth on fire, and children staring at him like he was just another passing traveler with stories in his eyes.
He had time, after all. Far too much of it.
And so, he made a promise—not to the world, but to himself.
"I'll die with a smile on my face, somewhere new, somewhere beautiful… like we used to dream about, eh, Hinata?"
The wind in the meadow didn't answer, but it carried the scent of blooming flowers and morning dew. It was enough.
Naruto took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Team 7… the first mission… ramen runs with Konohamaru… Himawari's first punch that broke a mountain…
Memories hit him like a warm wave, soft and stinging all at once.
When he opened his eyes, the meadow was still there—but he wasn't in his world anymore.
No cities in sight.
No buzzing of airships, no chakra signals dancing in the air like fireflies. Just tall green mountains rising in the distance, forests thick and mysterious, and a kind of quiet that the modern world had forgotten.
It reminded him of the Elemental Nations before peace had made things loud and big and complicated.
Here, he could pretend again. Pretend he was just Naruto—the boy with too much spirit and too little patience.
He had disabled all his extra senses, even his chakra detection, which frankly gave Kurama a migraine. His speed was locked at "mild jog," and his strength was on "do not accidentally punch trees into sawdust" mode. It made things harder. It made things better.
His outfit was modest but familiar:
An orange robe with black trim,
A simple undershirt and pants,
Red boots with soles worn smooth from miles already walked,
A wide-brimmed hat strapped to his back,
And a short sword at his hip—not for battle, but for campfires and peeling fruit.
No fanfare. No chakra cloak. Just him and the road.
"I'll have a lot to share with you all when I get there," he whispered to the sky, imagining their faces waiting at the end of the path—smiling, clapping, calling him "idiot" like old times.
He started jogging, his pace light and even, the kind he'd used when late for Ichiraku back in the day.
The scenery unfolded around him like a painting. Rich green hills stretched out lazily under a morning sun, and the nearby forest looked wild and untouched. Birds chirped without fear of being analyzed by ninja tools, and the breeze danced freely through tall grass.
'Traveling like this… is definitely something. I never even thought about just walking everywhere. I think it might take too long though… I should get a ride.'
He chuckled to himself. Even at two centuries old, some things never changed.
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Naruto had seen many strange creatures in his life—giant turtles with battle stations on their backs, talking cats with swords, and once, a toad the size of a mountain that moonlighted as a sumo wrestler. But none of them quite sparkled with raw majesty like the beast that came galloping through the open plain.
It was massive, fierce, and oddly... elegant.
Its orange pelt shimmered with black lightning-like stripes, and its mane and tail flowed like a stormcloud made of silk. When it ran, the earth almost sang beneath its paws. It was alive in the truest sense of the word—unbound, unbroken, and proud.
Naruto, being Naruto, stepped right into its path.
The beast—an Arcanine, though he didn't know the name yet—slid to a halt, eyes wary and intelligent.
"I won't hurt you," Naruto said calmly, raising one hand in peace while the other reached behind to scratch the back of his head. "I just want you to act as my mount for a bit. Make my journey a little more special."
The creature growled low, its mane fluffing up like a disgruntled pillow.
"Why should I care about that? I will not give up my freedom."
Naruto blinked.
"Oh. You can talk?"
No answer—just narrowed eyes and a swish of the tail.
He grinned. "Even better. Look, I'm not asking you to serve me or be chained up or anything. I just want you to ride with me for a while. I'll feed you, train you, and when it's over, you'll walk away stronger. Deal?"
There was a flicker of hesitation in the beast's eyes. Naruto took a step closer, extending his hand.
"Paw."
And, to the Arcanine's complete horror… its paw moved on its own and gently tapped Naruto's palm.
The ninja chuckled and patted the strong limb. "Good boy."
"What did you do to me?" the Arcanine snapped, voice vibrating with disbelief.
"Just a little charm jutsu. No harm done. Now come on, let's head to the nearest town. Moderate pace, Ark."
"Ark?"
"I need to call you something."
"...I suppose that's acceptable," Ark huffed, surprisingly flattered. "Why did you pick me, though?"
Naruto shrugged from his spot on Ark's back. "Random choice. You looked cool."
"I do look great, don't I?"
"Yup. Never seen anything like you. Where do your kind live?"
"Hot places—volcano ridges, sulfur caves, lava lakes. We only wander this far when on long runs."
"Any rivals?"
"No. But I do want to fight a fire dragon one day."
Naruto smirked. "I'll help with that. Just keep me satisfied, deal?"
"Deal."
They traveled a while longer through the wilderness, until Naruto raised a hand.
"Alright, stop here. Go hunt something. I'll get my food too."
Ark bounded off with a gruff bark, his tail flashing like a torch in the underbrush.
Naruto, meanwhile, wandered into the forest, his chakra brushing gently against the plants. Vines parted. Roots shifted. Berries and fruits practically leapt into his hand as he walked.
"Ah, I've missed this," he murmured as he bit into a mango with childlike delight.
But elsewhere—just a short flight away—the gentle peace of the day didn't hold.
Clover Town was about to have a very bad time.