Disclaimer: This is the first and last time I'll say this, but I do not own any characters, places or events related to Naruto, bar those of my own creation. No copyright infringement is meant in the publication of this story.

Summary: When Namikaze Minato and his wife sacrificed themselves that fateful October night, nobody could have guessed that a certain Sannin's intervention would change the course of fate. Raised by two Sannin, away from Konoha, how will Namikaze Shiki's life turn out? [Fem!Naru]

Note: As an avid Naruto reader, this is only my second attempt at an actual fanfiction, so please bear with me. Any feedback given would be much appreciated and would go a long way to improving my writing skills and quality. Regardless of that, please enjoy the story!

Prelude

At first, Jiraiya could not speak. A strange emotion welled in him, something he could not name, but that both warmed and frightened him. He simply gazed at the baby in his arms, so small and fragile. A little girl with the warm red hair of her mother, but the deep blue eyes of her father. He gazed at her in wonder, and all thought fled from his mind; every word, every sound, every syllable. All that he had left was a single thought, one that provoked a tender smile to blossom on his lips. She's beautiful.

Looking up at him, bright blue eyes blinked lazily, sleepily. And Jiraiya was reminded of just how young she was. Mere days had passed since her birth, since her parents' sacrifice. To be so young and so alone in the world, his heart felt heavy to even consider it. She was cursed, stricken with a burden of the worst kind; loneliness. There was no mother to cherish her and love her, to sing her to sleep when sleep would not come. There was no father, to hold her and care for her, to raise her to be just as strong in both character and abilities as her parents were before her.

The life of little Namikaze Shiki would not be an easy one, of that much he was certain, and he could not stomach the thought of leaving her to it. He was not ignorant of the hate and prejudice of those who dwelled outside the tiny little room, screaming and crying for her death; she would have few allies, and few friends. Her struggle would be endless, and it would be hard. Truly, Jiraiya's heart wept for her, and the suffering she would endure.

Years ago, or what seemed like it at the very least, he had made a promise. When Minato—bright, brilliant, kind hearted Minato—had told him of his impending fatherhood, his entire being glowing with joy, Jiraiya had been proud. In many ways, Minato had been like his own child, in the respect that he had never had his own, and he had practically raised the boy from Genin to the brilliant Hokage he had become. Minato had asked him that day, to take care of his child, to raise her as he had raised Minato, should something ever happen—the lives of shinobi were short, almost tragically so—and Jiraiya had been powerless to refuse. He'd made a promise that day, to protect her and guide her in the times when Minato and Kushina could not, and he'd be damned if he broke that promise. He'd broken enough in his lifetime.

He was drawn from his thoughts as the child in his arms struggled, wrestling an arm free of the tight hold her blankets had on her. His eyes softened, and he smiled, an expression tinged with a keen sadness, as she reached for him, for her godfather. Unable to reach, she simply settled for grasping one of the long, spiky tufts of hair that dangled by her head. Her grip was strong, and he winced as she tugged, a bright smile lighting up her face.

"Hey there kiddo," he winced, making no move to liberate his hair. "Strong grip you have there."

The child in his arms cooed, tugging once more. A high, squealing giggle came as she witnessed the man above her wince. And Jiraiya couldn't help it, his smile mirrored hers, despite the assault on his scalp.

"You look just like your mother," he spoke, his eyes on her but not really focused. "I bet your dad's jealous, wherever he is. He and your mother had a bet, you see. He was rooting for his own mini-me. Guess those Uzumaki genes are stronger than he thought."

Tugging absently at his hair, the child gazed up at him in turn, as if fascinated by his words. Blinking slowly, her azure eyes seemed to glitter in the light, shining.

"She has her mother's hair."

Jiraiya, to his credit, did not even flinch as the voice made itself known. Melting quietly away from the shadows that clung to the edge of the room, Sarutobi Hiruzen stayed where he was, regarding his student.

"I know," the younger shinobi stated, turning to regard his old sensei. His arm absently rocked, swaying the infant child, hoping to soothe her back into the slumber that she had been in before he arrived. He heaved a deep sigh. "Her seal is stable. It's a work of art, actually, far better than I expected. The brat really outdid himself on this one."

Hiruzen nodded. "I never doubted Minato-kun's abilities," he stated with conviction.

At his words, rather than looking proud or anything of the like, Jiraiya's eyes darkened. "But they did, didn't they."

"You can't blame them," Hiruzen stated, his face looking a million times older than Jiraiya had ever seen it. "They lost people in the attack, whole families were torn apart. They just want to be sure it's not going to happen again."

Jiraiya's voice was hard as he spoke, his thoughts on Minato and Kushina again. "We all lost people, sensei. But it gives them no right to call for the death of their child. Minato wanted her to be regarded as a hero, not the demon he sealed in her."

"I know. And I'm doing the best I can."

"Well it's not good enough!"

Sarutobi stepped back slightly, in shock. He'd never heard his student raise his voice to him, not in anger. He looked at his student hard, taking in his haggard appearance. Jiraiya had been too far away from Konoha to help, and he had only made it back days after the attack; he had never even gotten to say goodbye. The guilty aura that clung to him was obvious.

Silence dwelled in the room for a long moment, broken only by the infant in Jiraiya's arms, who began to cry in surprise at the white haired man's anger. And as the cries began, Jiraiya looked down at her, eyes softening as he rocked her slightly once more, smoothing stray red hair away from her face.

"She's doesn't deserve this," he continued on, voice softer, not angry, simply sad. "Her life will be hard enough."

Hiruzen looked at his student for another long moment, the long silence carrying on, until Jiraiya finally managed to still the child's cries, offering her the newly beloved bit of hair. She immediately latched onto it, drawing it into her mouth this time, much to his student's dismay. Gazing at the two of them, it was like a lightbulb went off in Sarutobi's head.

"It doesn't have to be."

Jiraiya's eyes settled sharply on him then, daring him to speak once more. He had all but resigned to the fate of his goddaughter, knowing that there was very little that could be done to help it. The outside world had already heard the word of her new burden, and the death threats had already begun to pour in. He stared at his sensei until he continued.

"You're her godfather, Jiraiya," Hiruzen stated, watching his student stiffen slightly as the line of thought became obvious. "As Minato and Kushina's wills stated, you're her legal guardian now. The council can't interfere with that.

Jiraiya gazed once more into her deep blue eyes, taking in the way she smiled around his hair—and god, her smile was so much like her father's. All his doubts and fears surfaced in him as he looked at her. He didn't know how to be a father, that was supposed to be Minato's job. He was a travelling spy, a pervert, how the hell was he supposed to protect and keep this small child alive. He could barely keep himself alive some days.

He had made that choice so many nights ago, accepting the role of her godfather, knowing of the seriousness that being bestowed with that title brought. He wouldn't regret it, not for a single moment, but looking at the kid in his arms, he had half a mind to. What did he know of parenting? His own parents had died decades ago, when he was only nine years old, and his memory of them was fuzzy at best. He'd never had any siblings, or any children of his own, and his sensei had never trusted him on baby sitting missions. How was he supposed to look after a child?

But as looked at her one final time, grey eyes roving her face, taking in every detail of her, he quelled the whispers inside of him. She looked at him, eyes bright, and laughed, so bright and brilliant and happy. In that moment, he knew he couldn't let anyone crush that. In that moment, his decision was made.

"Okay," he answered finally, swallowing hard. "I'll take her."

Sarutobi seemed to relax at that, the tension that had filled the old man's shoulders slipping off for the moment; he seemed truly relieved. "Thank Kami-sama," he breathed. "I believe in you, Jiraiya. You can raise her, give her a far better life than she could ever have here."

Jiraiya scrubbed his face slightly with his free hand. "I don't know if I can," he spoke, looking quite aged himself. "Do I look like I know how to raise a kid?"

"Nobody knows how to begin with," Sarutobi spoke again, reassuring his younger student. "It took me three tries, and I'm still not sure I've got it right. But you'll never know if you don't try."

"You're exactly the same," Jiraiya stated after a moment, shaking his head. "Just as annoying and wise as ever."

At that, Hiruzen broke out into a small smile, his wrinkled face lighting up with humor as he laughed. "I'm your sensei. It's kind of my job to preach to you."

"Do you really think I can do this?"

"I know you can."

Jiraiya offered his sensei a bright, wide smile. "Thanks, old man."

Sarutobi rolled his eyes. "You're welcome, Jiraiya," he said, moving over to scoop the baby from Jiraiya's arms, gently prying her away from his hair. He hugged her to him, the child he had quickly become fond of. Just as soon as he had taken her, he was handing her back. "Just take Shiki and get out of her as soon as possible. I'll handle the council."

"Got it."

"Just," Hiruzen's face took an almost pained expression. "Just bring her back to visit some time, okay? Nozomi and I are rather fond of her."

Jiraiya's face turned rather lecherous at that, breaking away from the tension that had clouded the atmosphere. "Ah, Nozomi-chan," he reminisced, expression dreamy. "How is that lovely assistant?"

Sarutobi shook his head at that, his student had decided that he was rather enamored with the Hokage's dark haired, big busted assistant, who had served under Minato prior to himself. As far as he'd heard, whenever his perverted student passed through, he made a point of making a pass at the young Uchiha. Who, naturally, was not very receptive.

"You have until tonight, Jiraiya," he declared.

Moving Shiki higher in his arms, he waved an arm dismissively, rolling his eyes at his wizened sensei. "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Me and the brat are gone."

And true to his word, Jiraiya disappeared from Konoha that night, a pack of diapers under one arm, a baby girl tucked into the crook of another. He had a baby to raise, and he expected to be far away from Konoha when his sensei announced that the Kyuubi's container was gone. That was one political shit storm he wasn't going to dig himself into.