Naruto: The Chosen Undead

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Chapter no.40 History of the Uzumaki Clan

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Naruto blinked awake, his eyes locking onto the familiar cracks in his ceiling. Same old apartment, same old stains. For a moment, he stared at them, letting the remnants of his dreams flicker away—vivid images of Firelink Shrine, hollows, and the adrenaline-pumping thrill of battle. A grin stretched across his face. That's what you get, dattebayo!

He rolled out of bed, shuffling toward the bathroom and grabbing his toothbrush on the way. As he scrubbed lazily, his reflection stared back at him—half-asleep and disheveled. His hair stuck out at odd angles, and toothpaste foam dripped down his chin, but he didn't care. His mind was elsewhere, replaying the rush of last night's fights.

After brushing, he wandered through his cluttered apartment, kicking aside stray wrappers and clothes. The mess was part of its charm, really. But his plants? Those were different. Grabbing his watering can, he made his rounds, carefully tending to the little bursts of green that brightened up the dull space. "Can't let you guys die on me," he muttered.

Once the plants were watered, he eyed the rest of the mess. With a sigh, he summoned two shadow clones, who popped into existence with exaggerated groans as they took in the chaos.

"Clean this up," he said, waving a hand dismissively.

The clones glared at him but didn't argue, muttering as they got to work. Naruto, meanwhile, rummaged through his inventory and pulled out a thick, weathered tome. The History of the Uzumaki Clan.

He studied its worn leather cover as he made his way to the bathroom, settling onto his porcelain throne. The book looked ancient, its edges frayed and its dark leather cracked with age. At its center, a faint spiral was embossed, so subtle it only caught the light at the right angle. Around the spiral, intricate patterns wove outward like vines, curling toward the edges of the cover. The pages inside were yellowed and brittle, and the ink bled faintly across the parchment as though time itself was trying to erase the words.

Naruto hesitated, running his fingers over the cover. Was it disrespectful to read something so important in here? He shrugged. Some of my best ideas happen in here, anyway.

Flipping open the book, he skimmed the first lines, but his eyes widened as the words sank in.

"My name is Tobirama Senju. The year is 572 of the Amatsu Calendar, commonly known as the End of the Warring States Period."

Naruto blinked. Tobirama Senju? The Second Hokage? And this wasn't just any history book—it was a journal. Handwritten.

The weight of the book seemed to shift in his hands, heavier now, as though the words themselves carried a sense of purpose. Naruto's stomach twisted as he read on.

"With the formation of the first village, many more will follow. That is the nature of the world; it changes, for better or for worse. Many clans have shown interest in joining my brother's village, and he has sent me on a diplomatic mission to the Uzumaki clan to offer an invitation. It would give us an incredible strategic advantage should other villages emerge, though I doubt my brother considers any of that. He simply wants to extend his hand to our distant cousins."

Naruto froze, his breath catching. Distant cousins? He reread the line, his mind racing. The founders of Konoha—the First and Second Hokage—and somehow, he was connected to them?

He slammed the book shut, staring at its spiral-emblazoned cover. Frustration bubbled beneath the surface, hot and raw. Distant cousins to the village founders, he thought bitterly, and yet not a single word about the Uzumaki Clan in the academy. Nothing.

The anger sat heavy in his chest, sharp and restless. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to breathe, to shove it down before it boiled over. Maybe I'm overreacting, he told himself. He hadn't exactly been a model student in the academy—maybe he'd just missed it. Yeah, right. That thought didn't carry much weight, but it was enough to stop him from storming into the Hokage's office and ruining his chances with the Hawk.

Instead, he stepped into the shower, letting the cold water hit his face. It stung, but it also cleared his head, snapping him out of the haze. As he scrubbed away the frustration, his thoughts wandered back to the book and… the spiral.

The same spiral on the Uzumaki book cover. The same spiral carved into the center of his Konoha headband. Something he'd seen a thousand times but never thought about.

As he stepped out of the shower, dripping wet, the thought nagged at him. Grabbing a towel, he dried his face roughly before pausing, his eyes narrowing.

"Hey," he called out. "Clone! Get in here!"

A shadow clone poked its head into the bathroom. "What now?"

"Go grab that Uzumaki book and skim it for anything about the spiral in the leaf symbol," Naruto said, toweling off his hair.

"Why not read it yourself?"

"Because," Naruto huffed, gesturing to his dripping body. "I'm wet, fresh out of the shower, and I don't want to ruin the pages. God, am I stupid or something?"

The clone raised a finger.

"Not. A. Word!"

The clone nodded and grabbed the book. After a few minutes of flipping carefully through the brittle pages, it spoke.

"Okay," the clone said. "There's a bit near the end that talks about it."

Naruto perked up, pulling the towel tighter around his shoulders.

"Tobirama writes," the clone began, "The spiral was always a symbol of the Uzumaki. When we designed Konoha's sigil, Hashirama insisted we include it, claiming it would stand as a reminder of the bond between our two villages."

"Wait, so… the Uzumaki spiral is part of the Konoha symbol because of Lord First?"

The clone nodded. "Though I believed alliances should be pragmatic and not sentimental, my brother insisted Konoha and Uzushio could never be mere allies. They were family. That bond was sealed with the marriage of Hashirama Senju and Mito Uzumaki—a union that united our villages as sister nations."

The clone smirked faintly. "My brother, ever dramatic, believed this symbol represented that connection—two separate paths spiraling together, growing stronger with each turn."

The shadow clone tossed the book at him with a smirk. "Here. You can keep reading this while I take a break."

Naruto barely caught the book, his mind too preoccupied to question the clone's sudden generosity.

Meanwhile, the clone made a beeline for the kitchen, eyes glinting as they locked onto the ramen stash.

"Break time," it muttered, opening the cupboard with a grin that would have made a starving dragon guarding a hoard look flaccid.

Meanwhile, the original dove back into Tobirama's words, his fingers tracing the faded ink.

"The Uzumaki Clan has a strange relationship with the Senju Clan," the entry began. "There is a blood connection, and the Uzumaki have never denied it, yet they care nothing for it. When the Senju waged war on the Uchiha, the Uzumaki never once offered assistance nor asked if they could help. They remained distant, almost indifferent. If you ask me, let them stay on their islands. With villages rising, it's only a matter of time before they come crawling to Konoha for protection."

Naruto stared at the words, his lips pressing into a thin line as irritation bubbled up. "You're an asshole."

He leaned back on the couch, the leather creaking slightly beneath him. Reading this journal had given him a glimpse into who the Second Hokage really was—a man as cold and logical as the paper he wrote on, someone who saw the world as a chessboard and people as pieces to be moved.

Naruto frowned, his fingers tightening on the book. What did that say about the Third Hokage?

His eyes flicked back to the page. So, my clan didn't get involved in their battles. There was a strange pride in that, a stubborn independence that felt right, like it was etched into his very bones. The Uzumaki didn't follow anyone's orders.

Turning the page, he read on. Tobirama's words were clipped, almost as if the man had been annoyed while writing.

"It has been a week since I was granted an audience with the clan leader. They rejected Konoha's offer outright."

Naruto snorted, imagining Tobirama's frustration.

"I sent a message back to the village, and now my brother has ordered me to remain with the Uzumaki. 'Learn their culture and history,' he says. 'Make friendly relations.'" The words were even written in quotes. "My brother's hope for kinship borders on naïveté, but I will do as instructed."

Naruto smirked. "Bet you hated that, huh?"

As he turned the page, his breath caught.

A drawing filled most of the next page—a bearded man, his head covered by a hood that cast his face in shadow. His eyes were sunken, intense, and… were those red? Spirals of intricate fuinjutsu seals radiated from his head like a halo, glowing faintly in the delicate pencil work. Bright strands of red hair peeked out from under the hood, vivid even on the worn paper.

The figure seemed alive, almost like the drawing was staring right back at him.

Naruto's fingers hovered over the image, hesitant to touch it. The caption below read: "History of a clan can often be inferred from its folklore. The Senju have the tale of the Yang God, the Uchiha the Yin God. Interestingly, the Uzumaki have the tale of the Hanged Man."

Creepy.

But Naruto couldn't stop reading, his grip on the page tightening.

"The story, as I have gathered, is this: the Yang God, Ashura, had two sons. One loved battle and adventure; the other was inquisitive, seeking knowledge above all else. When the time came for a successor, the scholarly son chose not to fight his brother for the title. He deemed the position worthless for his own goals. His brother became Ashura's successor and founded the Senju Clan."

Naruto blinked, stunned.

"The man traveled the world in search of answers, and his journey brought him to the islands of the Land of Whirlpools. It was here that he hanged himself—not out of despair, but to summon the God of Death. For nine days and nine nights, he hung, asking his questions of the Shinigami as it waited for him to die. Yet, on the dawn of the ninth day, he still lived. The Shinigami, impressed by the man's resilience and unyielding vitality, offered him something no mortal had ever earned before—a fragment of divine knowledge. The God of Death taught the man how to summon him at will, a privilege reserved for the brave and the damned. But that was not all. The Shinigami taught him the secrets of speaking to chakra itself.

This sacred craft, the Shinigami revealed, was a language—a way to bind the intangible and etch it into reality. Outside the Uzumaki Clan, this became known as fuinjutsu. But within the Uzumaki Clan, it was revered as the Art of Runes.

This man became the founder of the Uzumaki Clan: Oden Uzumaki."

Naruto stared at the words, his heart pounding as they settled into him like an anchor.

This story… it resonated with him in a way he hadn't expected.

It wasn't just about lineage or power—it was about someone rising from nothing to greatness, carving their own path through sheer determination. The Uzumaki founder wasn't important because he was Ashura's son or tied to any grand legacy. He was important because of what he did. Because he earned it.

It reminded him of his own story—just an orphan with dreams too big for the life he'd been handed. But that didn't stop him. It never had.

He turned the page, diving into Tobirama's drawings, and couldn't help but marvel at the detail. Each illustration was alive with vibrant energy, like a snapshot of a world Naruto was only just beginning to discover.

One drawing caught his attention—an Uzumaki village, with large, communal homes that seemed to welcome anyone inside. Wide-open doorways framed with colorful banners fluttering in the breeze gave the designs a warmth that tugged at something deep in him. Naruto could almost hear the laughter spilling out as families shared meals and stories.

Another page showed a festival scene, people dancing beneath the glow of lanterns and wearing intricate masks in honor of the God of Death.

Naruto grinned as his eyes landed on a depiction of children gathered around a pool of water and ink. Their faces were scrunched in concentration, hands moving carefully as they practiced intricate seals.

He chuckled, flipping to the next page, where a group of craftsmen were carving shields reinforced with seals. The designs looked unbreakable. Naruto smirked, thinking, Guess I'm honoring my heritage in a way, even if shields don't exactly fit my Zweihander style. Another reason to start building up my stats so I can start using shields.

Then, his laughter bubbled up as he stumbled upon a drawing of a small Uzumaki child, maybe six years old, practically drowning in a bowl of noodles. It wasn't ramen, but it looked close enough. Naruto could almost see himself in that role—living among his clan, surrounded by family, sharing meals and laughter.

For a moment, the image warmed him. But then, that familiar tug of longing crept in, bittersweet and unshakable.

What could my life have been like? he wondered, before shaking his head. Alright, Naruto. Stop daydreaming and read the damn words.

He refocused, turning to the last page, where Tobirama's words waited, steady and profound.

"I once asked the clan leader why the Uzumaki Clan's sigil is a spiral," Tobirama had written. "He said to me:

A whirlpool holds its shape, unchanging, like a memory etched in stone. But a spiral breathes and grows, shifting with each turn. What begins as a simple swirl transforms, as the vortex gives way to the spiral—ever deeper, ever evolving.

For even if it seems to spin the same, every turn carves a new path. The floor beneath it changes, the air thickens, and the scenery shifts. In each twist lies a new truth, in each descent, a hidden strength. So, too, does life shift and flow, as we are bound not to the flatness of fate but to the living spiral of choice and change. The Uzumaki walk this spiral, unbroken and ever-reaching."

Naruto closed the book, the words lingering in his mind like an echo:

"The Uzumaki walk this spiral, unbroken and ever-reaching."

Naruto felt like he truly understood what it meant to be an Uzumaki. The spiral wasn't just a symbol—it was a way of life. A reminder that every turn, every struggle, carved a new path forward. The Uzumaki didn't cling to the past or stay rooted in one place. They grew. They adapted. They endured.

They didn't break. They just kept reaching.

Rising from the couch, Naruto wandered to the window. Below him, the village stretched out in quiet stillness, bathed in the soft light of dawn. The first rays of the sun painted the rooftops in hues of orange and pink, vibrant and alive. It felt… different now. Like a promise.

"I'm an Uzumaki," he murmured. He looked down at his hand, tightening it into a fist. "And the Squire of Oscar."

Naruto exhaled slowly, the breath steady and sure, as if releasing something he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

The spiral never ends, he thought. It keeps going, deeper and stronger with every turn.

And so would he.

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[ Author's Note: Hey everyone!

I wanted to take a moment to talk about the changes I made to the Uzumaki Clan and why I drew inspiration from Norse mythology for their backstory.

In canon, the Uzumaki Clan has always been shrouded in mystery—masters of fuinjutsu, renowned for their resilience and vitality, and tragically wiped out with most of their history lost to time. To me, this felt like an exciting opportunity to explore their culture and origins in a way that not only enhances Naruto's personal journey but also deepens their connection to the larger world.

The decision to connect the Uzumaki founder, Oden Uzumaki, to the Norse myth of Odin hanging from Yggdrasil was intentional. In Norse mythology, Odin sacrifices himself by hanging from the world tree for nine days and nights to gain the wisdom of the runes. Similarly, Oden Uzumaki hangs for nine days to summon the Shinigami and unlock the secrets of chakra and fuinjutsu (or, as the Uzumaki call it, the Art of Runes). The parallels between these stories were just too fascinating to ignore!

Here's why the Norse influence works so well for the Uzumaki:

- The Uzumaki live on an island nation, much like many Norse coastal settlements that thrived by adapting to harsh environments. 

- Their mastery of fuinjutsu parallels the Norse use of runes. 

- Their iconic red hair can be tied to Norse imagery. 

- The Uzumaki's reputation as warmongers in the Minato one-shot reflects the fierce, battle-hardened spirit often associated with Vikings and Norse culture.

That said, this isn't a full dive into Norse mythology. You won't see Loki, Thor, or the Nine Realms showing up, nor will we be retelling Ragnarok. The Norse inspiration is exactly that—inspiration. It's a way to give the Uzumaki Clan their own unique cultural identity, one that feels powerful, mysterious, and worth rediscovering. It adds flavor to their legacy without overshadowing the story or its roots in Naruto's world.

For me, the connection between Naruto and the Uzumaki spiral strengthens the story in meaningful ways. The Uzumaki spiral is the perfect representation of this—an eternal symbol of growth, evolution, and the unending struggle to reach deeper and higher, no matter the obstacles. It mirrors his journey through Dark Souls.

So, what do you all think? Does this Norse-inspired take on the Uzumaki Clan add something interesting to the story? I'd love to hear your thoughts and feedback!

As always, thank you for joining me on this journey. Until next time!