The stadium sat like a hollowed-out shell under the silver light of the moon. Its stands were cracked, its scoreboard long since broken, and the field itself was more weeds than grass. Yet, at night, it came alive with a different kind of energy one thick with malevolence. Tonight, it had been a gate.
And tonight, Naruto had closed it.
The demons had fought like starving wolves, clawing and biting in desperation. Now, they were ash scattered across the football field, smoldering faintly under the moonlight. Naruto stood at the center, Purgatory's jagged blade resting across his shoulder. The sword's demonic aura still pulsed faintly, vibrating against his back when he sheathed it. His breath came steady, calm, each exhale forming faint white mist in the cool night air.
In the silence, Kurama's deep rumble stirred in his mind. "That pack wasn't random. Someone sent them here to feed. The portal stank of intent."
Naruto adjusted the strap across his chest, making sure Purgatory was secured. His expression was unreadable, but his golden eyes scanned the ruins of the gate. "Then they'll keep trying until they think they've scared the city into silence," he said aloud, though his voice was low.
Kurama hummed, but didn't press. He knew when to speak and when not to.
A faint sound broke the quiet—footsteps scuffing against concrete, uneven and hurried. Naruto turned, already knowing who it was before the man stumbled into view.
Martin Alvarez looked exactly as Naruto remembered him from months before: stocky, tired eyes, and clothes that always seemed a little too big for his frame. Tonight he was pale, sweat clinging to his forehead. He stopped dead at the sight of the battlefield.
"Sweet Christ…" Martin whispered. His gaze darted over the ashes, then to Naruto. "You—you stopped it. Again."
Naruto tilted his head slightly, lips tugging into a crooked grin. "Good thing I didn't skip leg day, huh?"
Martin let out a shaky laugh, though his hands were still trembling. "I don't… I don't know what we'd do without you. My nephew trains here sometimes. If he'd been here—"
Naruto's eyes softened. He stepped closer, clapping Martin's shoulder with quiet reassurance. "He wasn't. That's what matters. Get him to practice in the mornings instead, though. Safer that way."
Martin nodded quickly. "Anything you need, you just say. You saved my life once already. Now my nephew's too."
"Then keep your head down," Naruto replied evenly. "Let me worry about the monsters."
As Martin hurried off, Naruto caught movement from the opposite end of the field. A flashlight beam wavered, its cone of light cutting through the shadows. A young woman approached, her leather jacket gleaming faintly under the moon.
Leah Moreno. Naruto remembered her sharp tongue and stubborn streak, as well as the night he'd pulled her kid brother out of a demon's jaws.
Leah stopped just short of the center, her flashlight landing on the field of ashes. Her jaw tightened, but her voice was steady. "So it was real. Thought I was losing my mind back then."
Naruto raised a brow, smirking faintly. "You'd be surprised how many people hope they were just imagining things."
She crossed her arms, flashlight still angled down. "And you? Still taking this burden by yourself?"
"Less paperwork that way." The dry delivery earned him an incredulous look.
Leah huffed, shaking her head. "You sound like my old man when he didn't want to admit he was running himself into the ground."
Naruto's smirk softened into something almost warm. "Maybe I just don't like sleeping much."
Her eyes lingered on him, studying his face as if searching for cracks in the calm veneer. At last, she sighed. "Fine. Just…don't get yourself killed, all right? Some of us would actually notice."
She turned, walking briskly away, her flashlight beam bouncing until it disappeared behind the stadium walls.
Naruto remained still for a moment, letting her words sink into the night air. Then, a familiar rumble stirred again. "They're starting to see you as theirs. These people…they don't just want you to fight for them. They want you to live among them."
Naruto tilted his head back, staring up at the stars barely visible against the city's haze. "Guess I traded one village for another," he murmured.
A rustling behind him drew his attention once more. From the far bleachers, another figure crept down cautiously. This time it was someone Naruto hadn't expected tonight: Henry Park, a lanky college kid with perpetually messy hair and thick glasses. Naruto had once dragged him out of a library basement when a possessed janitor had gone berserk.
Henry froze when Naruto's gaze found him. "Uh—hi. I, uh…saw the lights. And the, um, screaming. Decided to check if it was, you know…bad."
Naruto's expression didn't shift, but his tone held the faintest trace of amusement. "What gave it away? The screaming or the giant hole in reality?"
Henry blinked. "Both?"
Naruto shook his head, chuckling softly. "You've got guts, kid. But guts get you killed in this line of work. Go home."
Henry hesitated, shifting nervously. "I—I could help. You know, take notes or something. Research patterns. I'm good with that."
For a long moment, Naruto just looked at him. Finally, he sighed. "Research, huh? Tell you what—start with the city archives. Check if there's a record of strange disappearances near old stadiums, churches, abandoned lots. Cross-reference with dates and weather if you can. Bring me what you find at my office. Quietly."
Henry's eyes widened behind his glasses. "Seriously? You—you're letting me help?"
"Don't make me regret it," Naruto said, his voice firm.
Henry broke into a grin, nodded furiously, and bolted away with all the enthusiasm of a kid who'd just been handed a quest in an RPG.
Naruto watched him go, the faintest smirk pulling at his lips again. "Guess I'll need a bigger coffee pot."
He turned back to the field one last time, scanning for any trace of lingering demonic energy. Purgatory hummed faintly at his back, resonating with his own senses. Satisfied, Naruto finally left the stadium, his long coat swaying in the night breeze.
The city was quieter at this hour, but never asleep. Neon signs buzzed faintly. Cars hissed down distant avenues. Somewhere a siren wailed, sharp and mournful. Naruto walked those streets like he belonged, yet slightly apart—as if the city itself had acknowledged him, even if its people didn't know his name.
By the time he reached his apartment-office on the second floor of a forgotten brick building, the first hints of dawn were creeping into the horizon. He pushed open the door, the familiar creak of hinges greeting him. Inside was the cluttered but lived-in space of a man who straddled two worlds: case files stacked beside old ramen cups, a battered leather couch opposite a desk littered with newspaper clippings.
Purgatory went into its usual spot against the wall. Naruto shrugged out of his coat, draping it across the couch.
From the kitchen corner, his coffee machine gurgled to life. Naruto leaned against the counter, waiting. His thoughts were quiet, but Kurama's low voice surfaced after a moment. "That boy—Henry. You're letting him in?"
Naruto stirred sugar into his mug, not looking up. "He wants to help. Better he works under me than stumbles into another nest alone."
"Hn. You're building ties. Dangerous ties. But…" Kurama paused, his tone softer. "…they make you less alone."
Naruto smirked faintly over the rim of his mug. "Since when do you care about me being lonely?"
"I didn't say it was for you. I'm just tired of your brooding."
Naruto chuckled, the sound low and warm. "Fair enough."
The city would wake soon, with no knowledge of what nearly spilled into their lives that night. But word would spread in whispers from Martin, from Leah, maybe even from Henry.
And when they whispered about their unseen protector, they wouldn't call him ninja, shinobi, or hero.
They'd call him something new.
The man with the demon blade.
The private investigator who never turned away.
The Demon Slayer of the City.
And for Naruto, that was enough.
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