With the Kyuubi’s help, Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke have successfully landed in the past, armed with a completely fleshed-out plan to get rid of the bad guys and save the world. (Again.) The only problem? When it comes to the transmigration of souls and time-travel jutsus done under the influence, Kurama has absolutely, incredibly terrible aim.

Utakata has never considered himself overly important in the grand scheme of things. But when, rather than returning to the afterlife, he finds himself back in a Kiri controlled by the Sandaime Mizukage, he makes a choice. A few well-placed changes might be enough to shift the course of the future, in the end.

In which Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke are dimension-hopping superheroes. Kind of. More or less.

"Oh, fuck me," is the first thing Izuna says upon opening his eyes.

Obito gets lost on the way back to the afterlife.

Of all the wonderful things to come out of peace talks, Tobirama relishes Izuna's jealousy the most.

The first person Kakashi meets when he staggers out of the house, covered in blood, is Uchiha Obito.

Shukaku fixes the timeline. Grumpily. And with a lot of bloodshed.

With a shaky breath, Obito pulls his mouth away, wraps his arms around Kisame's chest and presses up against him. “I wasn’t late,” he says, more to himself than Kisame. “I got there in time. I wasn’t late. I saved you.”

“Oh my god,” Jiraiya says, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hang on,” Obito whispers, pressing his hand against the back of Sakura's head so she won't have to watch the White Zetsu approach. “Close your eyes, Sakura, you’ll be fine.” Maybe he can bargain with them, or maybe he can stall them, useless as he is. Maybe there's a way she can survive this, even if Obito can't. And then there's a step, loud on the rocky bank. “I think,” a voice says, calm and perfectly even, “that you're trespassing on Senju lands.”

“There you are,” a voice says, sudden enough to make Shisui startle. Before he can even take a step back, though, a familiar figure is stepping out from beneath an overhang of carved stone. Silver hair is bright in the moonlight, even though the light washes color from everything else, turns the red dripping from the tantō black and leaves the pools on the ground depthless. “Captain?” Shisui asks, throat tight, and has to swallow again, has to resist the urge to take a step back. “What—what are you doing here?”

Iruka wakes to silence, a rare break in the constant rain.

Just when Konan has lost hope, she meets a hero.

“It’s Chancellor Palpatine,” he says clearly, as steadily as he’s able to. “Chancellor Palpatine is the Sith Lord. I need your help to kill him.” There's one beat of stunned, frozen silence. Then, careful, Thire clears his throat. “You want us to kill the Supreme Chancellor?” he asks. “Yes,” Mace says, and when he sits back, all three commanders are staring at him. Something in his chest sinks, grim and resigned. “I can't—” “Thire, get those damn boxes open,” Fox orders. “Stone, we need some kind of distraction. Grab some detonators.”

“I can’t believe you ruined my boots,” Leia says, outraged, and pushes Dooku’s face further into the mud.

“No,” Sabé hisses, catching the edge of Kycina's red hood and dragging her back down behind cover.

Fox has the galaxy’s greatest hero in his bed, he’s well-fed, he’s astonishingly well-rested, and he has a whole week of leave saved up that starts in about six hours, during which no one is allowed to bother him with anything work-related even if Coruscant gets invaded by brain-stealing worms. Again. He made sure Thorn and Thire both knew that. Which makes it ten times as unpleasant to wake up to someone bypassing the chime entirely and just pounding right on his door.

There’s a hollow thud, a sound like a gong, a war-cry that makes Alpha-17 freeze in his tracks, and Priest goes flying back into the window.

Quinlan can’t take it anymore, and if he sticks around for one more minute, he’s going to have a reaction that’s entirely inappropriate given the discussion that’s happening above his head.