Mastering the Elements - Chapter - 82

The Pottaru household had never felt so tense. The walls of the estate, usually calm with the soft sounds of sparrows and the faint ripple of the garden stream, now seemed to echo with Harry’s restrained fury. His eyes—those fierce green eyes that had stared down death itself—burned with the kind of rage that made even seasoned shinobi uneasy.

Harry paced across the wooden floor, every step heavy, every movement sharp. His hands flexed open and closed as though fighting the urge to summon the storm inside him.

“You can't make me silent,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “They dare place a bounty on my son? They think they can buy his life with coin?”

Tsunade sat calmly, though her hands gripped the tea cup harder than usual. She exchanged a quick glance with Mikoto, who stood near the window, watching Harry with the careful eyes of someone who had seen him like this before.

“Harry,” Mikoto began softly, “you cannot fight all of Naruto’s battles.”

Harry whirled on her, his robes swirling, his magic flaring in faint pulses around him like heat waves. “You don’t understand. This isn’t just a bounty. This is a message. They’re telling the world he’s prey. That they can come after him like a wolf circling a lamb.”

From the corner, Itachi, calm as ever, spoke with that low voice of his. “And yet… the lamb already has fangs. Naruto isn’t helpless.”

Naruto himself sat cross-legged on the tatami, trying his best to appear calm though his heart thundered in his chest. He had been listening to Harry argue for over an hour now, and it was time he spoke up.

“Dad,” Naruto said, lifting his head. His voice cracked just slightly, but he pressed on. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been training for a long time. You’ve taught me, Itachi nisan taught me, and I’ve learned more about fighting than most shinobi ever dream of. I’m not scared of some bounty hunters.”

Harry froze, his fists still trembling. Slowly, his eyes shifted to Naruto, those green flames dimming only slightly.

“You’re still just a boy,” Harry said quietly. “You don’t know what it’s like to be hunted, truly hunted. To wake up knowing men you’ve never seen want you dead just because of who you are.” His voice cracked with memory, his time as “The Boy Who Lived” flashing before his mind. “I won’t stand by and let that happen to you.”

Tsunade finally set her cup down with a sharp clack. “And what will you do, Harry? Storm into Iwagakure and start killing until they yield? March into the halls of the Land of Stone’s Daimyo and threaten him until he bows? You may remove one bounty, but another will rise in its place. That is the way of the world. Violence begets violence.”

Harry’s jaw clenched. “If fear keeps them from daring again, then perhaps it’s worth it.”

Mikoto crossed the room and placed a hand gently on his arm. “And what then? You terrify the nations into silence, and Naruto grows up shielded in your shadow? Is that what you want—for him to be seen not as his own shinobi, but as the boy whose father kills anyone who looks at him wrong?”

Harry looked away, the storm inside him still raging. “I swore… I swore after Itachi that I wouldn’t let this happen again. I killed Danzo for putting a bounty on his head, and I’ll do it again if I must.”

Naruto stood now, his blue eyes burning with the same stubbornness as his father’s. “Dad! Listen to me!” His voice rose, loud enough to shake the air. “I don’t need you to fight my battles. I’m not weak. If someone stronger than me comes, then yes, I’ll call for your help. But if you fight every fight for me, I’ll never grow strong enough to stand on my own.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Even Itachi’s gaze flickered in quiet approval at Naruto’s words.

Harry’s chest rose and fell, his breathing ragged. Slowly, painfully, the iron tension in his shoulders eased. He looked at Naruto—really looked at him—not as the little, but as the shinobi-in-training who bore Minato’s legacy and Kushina’s fire.

“You’re too young to speak like that,” Harry muttered, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe,” Naruto admitted. “But I’m old enough to know this: I won’t be caged. If people want to come for me, let them. I’ll fight. And if I can’t win, then I’ll ask you. That’s my promise.”

Harry closed his eyes. His magic, which had crackled angrily through the room, finally dimmed to nothing. He placed a hand on Naruto’s shoulder, his voice softer now, tired but still fierce.

“Then you promise me this, Naruto. You promise that you will call me if you’re in danger. No pride, no hesitation. You call, and I’ll be there.”

Naruto grinned, the fire in his heart unshaken. “That’s a promise, Dad.”

Mikoto finally exhaled, as though she had been holding her breath the entire time. Andromeda allowed herself a small nod, and even Itachi’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles.

The storm had passed—for now. But in the quiet of the Pottaru household, each of them knew the truth. The bounty would not be the last threat, nor the last trial Naruto would face. And Harry, for all his resolve, would always struggle between letting his son grow… and protecting him at any cost.



The day had been long, the kind that seemed to stretch endlessly with chores, training, and the constant hum of village life. By the time Harry retreated into the quiet of his study, night had draped itself across the Pottaru estate. The candlelight flickered against the old wooden walls, casting restless shadows. A single sealed parchment lay on the desk before him, its wax marked with a symbol he now recognized instantly—the mark of Jiraiya, the Toad Sage.

Harry broke the seal with careful fingers, unfolding the crisp parchment. Jiraiya’s letters rarely came to him; they were always directed to Naruto, carried by one of the toads. For the old sage to send a personal message to Harry instead of his godson meant the matter was grave.


Harry,

Normally, I’d send this to Naruto directly, but this time I want your eyes on it first. Keep him calm when you tell him, because he won’t take this lightly.

I’ve spent the last few weeks tracking down the bounties placed on Naruto. You already know about the Lightning Daimyō, but it runs deeper. Stone and Water have also issued similar orders, though in secret. Someone has been stirring the daimyōs, feeding them old fears of Minato being reborn in battlefield. It wasn’t surprising—Naruto was bound to draw such threats sooner or later.

But here’s the twist, and it’s one I can’t wrap my head around. I’ve confirmed through multiple sources that the group called Akatsuki is now moving to remove the bounty on Naruto. That’s right—these men, a band of missing-nin all ranked S-class, are leaning on the same daimyō who put the price on his head to take it off. Not just through intimidation. They’ve been doing missions—impossible missions—that no other shinobi would dare touch. They get results, they maintain anonymity, and the daimyōs are starting to rely on them. They are buying influence one step at a time.

I’ve seen many strange things in my life, but this is new. Akatsuki isn’t just mercenaries. They are too organized, too focused, too quiet. What unsettles me most is that they’re choosing to protect Naruto—at least on the surface. Why? I don’t know. I can’t guess. And that bothers me.

Keep this between us for now. I’ll dig deeper. Until then, watch Naruto closely. He won’t like hearing this, and his temper will get the better of him. Don’t let him act recklessly. If Akatsuki is making moves, we’ll need to be smarter than ever before.

—Jiraiya


Harry read the letter twice over, then a third time, the words burning into his mind. Each sentence seemed heavier than the last, and yet the meaning was maddeningly unclear.

Akatsuki.

Harry knew little of them, only whispers gathered from shinobi who spoke the name as if it summoned ghosts. They were the kind of men and women who had walked away from their villages, not as deserters, but as storms—too dangerous to be contained, too powerful to be hunted. Their crimes were legendary, their abilities unmatched. And now they were stepping into the political sphere, forcing daimyōs to bend.

But why… why remove the bounty on Naruto?

Harry rubbed at his temples. He could imagine Akatsuki moving to kill Naruto, or capture him, but to erase his price? The logic bent back on itself. It was a puzzle without pieces.


The sound of footsteps outside drew Harry’s thoughts back to the present. Naruto pushed open the door, hair as wild as ever, sweat still glistening on his brow from late-night training.

“Oi, Dad! You got a letter?” he asked, noticing the parchment in his mentor’s hands.

Harry hesitated, then folded it neatly and placed it on the desk. “From Jiraiya,” he said carefully. “It’s about you.”

Naruto’s grin faltered. “Me? What now? Don’t tell me another village put a bounty on my head.”

Harry sighed, gesturing for him to sit. “It’s more complicated than that. The bounties, yes—they’re already started planning how to collect it. Jiraiya confirmed it.”

Naruto crossed his arms, scowling. “Figures. I’m the Nine-Tails’ host. They don’t care who I am, just what’s sealed inside me.”

“That part, I expected,” Harry said quietly. He leaned forward, his green eyes sharp in the candlelight. “But here’s the part we don’t understand. There’s a group called Akatsuki. They’re not aligned with any village. They’re missing-nin, all S-class. Dangerous.”

Naruto tilted his head. “And what about them?”

“They’re trying to remove the bounty.”

The words dropped like stones in the silence that followed.

Naruto blinked. “Remove it? What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” Harry replied. “They’re pressuring the daimyōs to take the price off your head. They’ve been doing jobs for them—hard ones, impossible ones. And for reasons no one understands, they’ve decided that bounty has to go.”

Naruto stared at him as though Harry had grown two heads. “Why would they do that? They don’t even know me. I thought you said they’re missing-nin? S-class? That means they’re killers, right? So why help me?”

Harry’s lips tightened. “That’s the question Jiraiya and I can’t answer. We don’t know. We don’t even know if it’s truly for your sake, or for something else entirely. What we do know is that Akatsuki doesn’t make moves without reason.”

Naruto’s fists clenched at his sides. “I don’t like this. I don’t want their help. If people want to put a bounty on me, fine! I’ll just fight whoever comes after me. I don’t need some shadow group deciding what happens to me.”

Harry watched him carefully, letting the boy’s anger settle. He saw beneath it—fear, uncertainty, the raw edge of someone who had spent too much of his life as a target.

“Listen to me, Naruto,” Harry said at last, his voice steady. “You’re right. You don’t need their help. But that doesn’t change the fact that they’re acting. That means they want something. And until we know what, we can’t afford to dismiss it. Recklessness will only make us easier to control. Jiraiya is still digging. Until then, we stay alert.”

Naruto looked away, his jaw set. “Fine. But if Akatsuki shows up, I’ll show them I’m not some pawn they can move around. I’ll fight them head-on.”

Harry exhaled softly. “And that’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” he murmured.


Far away, Jiraiya trudged along a rain-soaked road, his cloak heavy with water. His thoughts were restless, turning over everything he had seen. The bounties had been whispered in tea houses and taverns, names passed in secret by mercenaries who saw Naruto as gold mine. But the real revelation had come when he followed the money.

Akatsuki.

Everywhere he went, their fingerprints were there. Daimyōs spoke in hushed tones of jobs completed—assassinations that even ANBU squads dared not attempt, recoveries of relics from fortresses no sane man entered. Akatsuki delivered, always. And with each mission, their influence grew.

When Jiraiya pressed for names, the answers came reluctantly: a man who wielded puppets like armies, another who could shatter boulders with his bare hands, whispers of a rogue swordsman from the Mist. Legends, all of them, wearing the same cloak patterned with red clouds.

And now, somehow, they wanted Naruto protected.

Jiraiya had seen enough of the world to know there was no charity in men like that. Whatever Akatsuki’s true goal was, Naruto was caught in it.

He lit his pipe beneath a makeshift shelter, the smoke curling into the night. Damn it, Minato… he thought. Your son’s in the middle of something big, and I don’t know how to stop it.