Naruto: The Fifth Hokage Is Naruto's Uncle

From this vantage point atop the grassy ridge, one could overlook the entire battlefield stretched beneath the horizon—an ocean of chaos where steel clashed and chakra flared like miniature suns.

Namikaze Mirai stood tall with a calm, almost indifferent elegance. Beside him, little Naruto clung to his uncle's finger, his round blue eyes filled with childlike wonder as he gazed down at the ongoing battle. Confused by the carnage below, the boy tilted his head and asked softly,

"Uncle… why are they fighting?"

Mirai glanced down, his golden hair ruffled gently by the wind. He smiled and reached over to rub Naruto's hair with an affectionate touch, his gaze returning to the blood-stained battlefield below.

"Because," Mirai said quietly, "they're all just pieces on a shōgi board—moved by the hands of those sitting in comfort far away."

"Shōgi pieces?" Naruto blinked, trying to imagine the battlefield as a giant board game.

"There's too much bloodshed in this world, Naruto." Mirai continued, his voice carrying a calm intensity. "So long as decisions are made by those detached from the frontlines, conflict will never end. That's why… your uncle wants to change this world."

Behind them stood a silent observer—Uchiha Itachi. A child only under ten, yet already more perceptive than most adults, Itachi listened to every word with deep thought in his eyes. Though barely tall enough to see over the ridge, he sensed the difference between Mirai and his own father, Uchiha Fugaku.

During these brutal days of the Third Great Ninja War, Itachi had also stood beside his father, watching the battlefield. But Fugaku's explanations had been far more cold and pragmatic.

"Kill or be killed." Fugaku had said.

Compared to that, Mirai's words were… gentle. Almost too gentle.

He was shielding Naruto from the reality of war—so effectively that Naruto still believed this conflict was something clean and distant.

Mirai suddenly turned to Naruto and smiled with a sparkle in his eye. "Naruto, would you like to see some fireworks?"

"Fireworks?" Naruto tilted his head again. "But Uncle… there's no festival here, right?"

The child looked around. The endless grasslands offered no signs of celebration—only the chaos of war. How could there be fireworks?

Mirai merely chuckled and knelt beside him. "Just watch."

He raised a single finger and pointed toward the battlefield.

The moment his chakra surged, a strange phenomenon occurred.

*Clink… clang…*

All across the warzone, the metal tools of countless shinobi—kunai, shuriken, and ninja blades—began to tremble.

Then, before anyone could react, they rose.

Weapons lifted off belts and holsters as if drawn by an invisible force. In a matter of seconds, thousands of metal implements soared into the air like migrating birds. They clustered together mid-air, fusing and forming a gigantic iron sphere, suspended above the battleground like a new moon.

Ninjas on both sides—Konoha and Kumogakure—halted their clashes, stunned by the impossible sight.

Among the Kumogakure ranks, an older Jōnin suddenly paled, memories from a past war flashing in his eyes. His face contorted with fear.

"No… it can't be… RUN!!!"

He shouted at the top of his lungs, but the warning came too late.

On the hill, Mirai tapped the air with his finger and whispered, "Naruto, watch closely. This is Uncle's version of fireworks."

*BOOM!!!*

The massive metal sphere detonated with an ear-shattering explosion. The force of the blast rippled outward in all directions, sending a wave of fire and shock through the sky.

From the explosion emerged thousands of metal fragments—kunai and shuriken now blazing with flame—raining down like a meteor shower.

*Fwoooosh—shhzzzzz—crack!!*

The molten weapons tore through the ranks of the Kumo ninja like divine punishment. Each piece of metal pierced bodies, scorched armor, and left gaping holes in anything it struck.

Screams filled the battlefield.

The shrieks of the dying, the panic of the wounded—it all exploded in a chorus of agony. Ninjas tried to dodge or shield themselves, but it was futile. Flaming steel rained indiscriminately.

In moments, the Kumo forces had lost nearly a third of their soldiers.

A full thirty percent—gone in the blink of an eye.

Naruto's eyes sparkled. "That's so cool!"

He laughed innocently, unaware of the death and suffering below. From his perspective, all he had seen was a stunning display of light and fire raining down from the heavens like a divine firework show.

Behind him, Itachi stared at Mirai's back with wide eyes and a dry throat.

This was power. Real power.

While smiling and speaking gently to a child, Namikaze Mirai had single-handedly decimated a third of an enemy army.

He wasn't just strong—he was terrifying.

On the other side of the battlefield, the commander of the Kumogakure forces—Dodai—watched in horror. His eyes were bloodshot, and his chakra flared uncontrollably as he screamed.

"NAMI! KAZE! MIRAI!!!"

He knew the battle was lost. Continuing would only lead to further slaughter.

"Retreat! RETREAT!!!" Dodai's voice echoed across the battlefield, amplified by chakra.

The Kumo ninjas obeyed instantly, fleeing in panic.

On the Konoha side, the atmosphere flipped.

Cheers erupted.

"We won! We won!"

Konoha shinobi raised their weapons in celebration. Their morale soared like never before. After suffering defeat after defeat in recent weeks, this overwhelming victory felt like salvation.

"Captain Inoichi, should we pursue?" one Jōnin asked urgently.

Yamanaka Inoichi narrowed his eyes. After a moment of thought, he shook his head.

"No. A desperate enemy is dangerous. Our priority now is preserving our strength… and greeting our most honored guest."

The Konoha forces roared in agreement, their respect for the Uchiha clan growing as they recalled how fiercely the clan had fought today.

Even those who normally viewed the Uchiha with suspicion felt something change.

Yamanaka Inoichi remained quiet as he gazed toward the ridge.

There, the golden-haired man descended slowly, holding Naruto's hand as they approached the Konoha ranks. Every shinobi present turned toward them instinctively. The cheering stopped. A reverent silence fell over the field.

Mirai's golden hair glistened under the sun. He didn't look like a war god—but that was what he had become.

"Mirai… with you here, I can breathe easier." Inoichi said with mixed emotions.

He and Minato had fought together during the war. He remembered those days clearly, and now, seeing Minato's younger brother walk the same battlefield, he felt both relief and awe.

…

Meanwhile, deep within Yugakure Village, the Fourth Raikage, Ai, sat in his war chamber, confident and at ease.

Konoha had lost much after the Nine-Tails Riot. The defection of Orochimaru, the collapse of Root under Mirai's hand—everything pointed to a weakened enemy.

He expected good news.

"Raikage-sama!" a scout said, bowing and handing him a scroll. "Latest report from the front lines."

Ai smirked and opened it.

His smirk vanished instantly.

"What…?"

His hands clenched the scroll. The words blurred before his eyes, each sentence worse than the last.

'Losses… one-third annihilated… Mirai has entered the battlefield… Uchiha clan present…'

His breath caught in his throat.

"Namikaze Mirai has joined the war?! And the Uchiha too?!"

The pressure in the room thickened.

"DAMMIT! What are they planning now?!"

His calm shattered. He stood in a rush, chakra flaring with rage.

"Summon Yugito immediately! Prepare for a full counterstrategy!"

*****

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