The rain hadn't stopped. It battered my back and made the world feel heavier than it already was. Yukino shifted in my arms, a faint shiver running through her. Shinichi was gone, and no amount of standing in the rain would change that. But Yukino—she was still here. I had been given the chance to save someone, and I wasn't about to waste it.
I adjusted my grip on her and pushed forward, forcing one foot in front of the other. My leg throbbed with every step, but I channeled chakra into my body, funneling medical ninjutsu through my limbs to keep myself moving.
The pain dulled, and eventually, I found myself once again able to run. I dashed across the land of rain, travelling towards the general direction of our outpost. I no longer knew my exact location, but I at least could coordinate myself and move the right way.
…
Hours passed as the night loomed overhead, I ran along a rocky cliff side off the edge of a mountain. The path made for suitable cover, so I made use of it.
That's when I saw it.
A cave.
A haven from this cursed night.
I stepped inside, my breath heavy, my soaked clothes clinging to me. But the moment I entered, I froze.
There was a light source—fire burning steadily in the center of the cave. Shadows flickered against the walls, huddled near the flames.
I tensed.
More enemies? Don't tell me there are shinobi hiding in here—I haven't recovered enough to fight yet.
The place was cluttered with crates, discarded junk, and scattered trinkets. Cloths, blankets, and firewood were piled up in the corners, like someone had been living here for a while.
Then the figures moved.
Two small shapes darted away from the fire and hid inside one of the bigger crates.
Kids.
I let out my breath, my wariness fading just slightly. They were just kids—probably my age or younger. They weren't a threat.
I stepped forward and laid Yukino down on one of the dry cloths spread out on the rocky floor. The heat from the fire licked at my skin, chasing away the cold that had seeped into my bones.
"I'm not gonna hurt you," I called out, keeping my voice steady. "It's okay. I just need a place for my friend to rest. Would you be willing to allow us that?"
Silence.
Then, after a long pause, the two figures hesitantly crept out from their hiding spot.
A boy and a girl.
The boy's hair was a bright, unmistakable orange. The girl's was a deep blue, her wary eyes locked onto me.
Something about them was familiar.
A strange, sinking feeling settled in my gut as I saw them. The scraps of fabric they wore, the wary way they held themselves, like they were used to running, used to hiding.
I swallowed.
"…What are your names?" I asked, my voice quieter this time.
The boy hesitated, glancing at the girl before answering.
"Yahiko."
She followed, her voice softer.
"Konan."
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.
Yahiko and Konan.
The cave was quiet except for the crackling of the fire and the distant patter of rain outside. Yahiko and Konan stood a few steps away, watching me with cautious eyes. I could see the tension in their stances, ready to bolt if I made the wrong move.
I exhaled slowly and sat down near the fire, stretching my sore legs. The warmth was a relief, but my body still ached from the day's events.
Yukino let out a soft murmur beside me, still unconscious. I pulled one blanket from a nearby pile and draped it over her.
"You live here?" I finally asked, glancing between them.
Yahiko straightened a little, like he was trying to make himself seem bigger. "Yeah. This place is ours."
I looked around. It wasn't much—just a makeshift shelter with supplies that looked like they had been scavenged or stolen. It reminded me of the way stray dogs might gather scraps to build themselves a den.
"You're alone?" I asked.
Konan shifted slightly, her fingers curling around the fabric of her sleeve. "We have friends! Y—You should leave be—before they come back!" she spoke hurriedly, looked away from me and continued. "But–But right now, it's just us..."
Yahiko shot her a look. I wasn't sure what their story was, honestly, I didn't remember the details from the show anymore. But I didn't need to remember to know that she was lying. Probably trying to intimidate the stranger into leaving. Makes sense, I'm kind of trespassing and using their hard acquired blanket.
I nodded and reached toward the fire, rubbing my hands together to chase the last of the chill away.
"Look," I said, keeping my tone as even as I could, "I'm not here to take your place. I just needed somewhere safe for the night." I gestured to Yukino. "She's hurt and freezing. I need to make sure she's okay before we move on."
They exchanged glances again. Then Yahiko crossed his arms. "You're from the Leaf, aren't you?"
I tensed slightly. It wasn't exactly a secret—the headband made that obvious. But the way he said it, there was something behind it.
"Yeah," I admitted. "We were on a mission."
Yahiko scoffed. "A mission, huh? So what, are you gonna say you're here to help, or truthfully, are you just here to cause more problems like the rest of them?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means every time you foreign shinobi show up around here, things get worse." He clenched his fists. "You guys don't protect people like us. You just fight your wars and leave the rest of us to fend for ourselves amid your battlefields."
There was anger in his voice, but it wasn't just anger. It was frustration. Bitterness.
And I had nothing to say to that. He was right. This very war had taken his parents, I'm sure.
Konan spoke up, her voice quieter but steady. "Is she going to be okay?" She was looking at Yukino.
I turned to her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. She was still pale, still shivering slightly even under the blanket. But she was breathing. That was what mattered.
"Yeah," I said. "She just needs rest."
Konan hesitated, then slowly walked closer. She knelt down and placed a small bundle beside Yukino—another blanket, neatly folded. "This one's warmer," she murmured.
I blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. "Thanks."
Yahiko huffed but didn't say anything. He sat down on the other side of the fire, crossing his legs.
"So what's your name, Leaf boy?" he asked, eyeing me.
I glanced between them before answering. "Shirokumo."
Yahiko raised an eyebrow. "That's a weird name."
I snorted. "Look who's talking, Yahiko."
Konan hid a small smile behind her sleeve. Yahiko clicked his tongue but didn't argue.
The tension in the air eased, just a little.
The fire crackled softly between us, and the rain outside continued its unrelenting rhythm. The cave felt somewhat warmer now, with the blanket over Yukino and the second layer Konan had given her, but the dampness clung to my skin like a second layer, the chill refusing to leave entirely. I stretched my legs out and leaned back against the rock wall, taking a moment to collect myself.
Yahiko's eyes never fully left me, like he was trying to figure me out, like he was sizing me up. I couldn't blame him. I was a stranger—one from the Leaf, no less. But at least I wasn't here to cause trouble. I wasn't here to start a fight or take what wasn't mine.
I watched Konan, who was sitting quietly on the opposite side of the fire, her expression calm, though her eyes still held a wariness. There was a vulnerability to her, one that was almost impossible to ignore. She wasn't as guarded as Yahiko, but there was an underlying sadness in the way she carried herself.
I wondered what had happened to them. To everyone, really. We were all just children in the end, forced into roles we didn't choose.
The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, and I found myself staring into the fire. My mind wandered to thoughts of Shinichi again—his face in those last moments… I really shouldn't think of that now. Not now. I can grieve when Yukino is safe.
"Hey, Shirokumo," Yahiko's voice broke through my thoughts, a sharp edge to it. "You said you were on a mission, but you're out here, in the middle of nowhere, with no backup and a hurt friend. What happened to you two?"
I winced. It wasn't something I wanted to talk about. Not with him, not now. But I could see he wasn't going to let it go.
"We got ambushed," I said, my voice low. "Three of us got separated from our squadron after Yukino–the girl laying here–jumped in front of an attack to protect me. She got poisoned and we fell into a river. Shinichi, a–I guess a friend, jumped after us and helped me stabilize her. We were trying to get back to the outpost, but… Well, certain events transpired and he didn't make it."
The silence in the cave felt heavier now, and I could sense the weight of Yahiko's gaze still fixed on me. He was trying to understand, or maybe he just didn't want to trust me. He didn't seem like the type who easily let people in.
Konan, though, her eyes softened as I spoke of Shinichi's death. She didn't say anything at first, but her hands fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve as though she were trying to hold back something—something that made her look more fragile than I had expected.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, her voice carrying a sincerity that I hadn't expected. Her eyes met mine for a fleeting moment, and I saw the sorrow in them, the understanding of loss, of pain.
Yahiko scoffed, the sound sharp in the quiet cave. "What's the point of apologizing? It's not like it's going to bring him back, it won't bring anyone back…" he muttered, but his tone lacked the usual bite. He didn't seem to want to push the conversation further, though, which made me think he wasn't as indifferent to it as he let on.
The night stretched on, the crackling fire filling the silence between us. Outside, the rain continued to drum against the cave's entrance, but in here, it was oddly peaceful.
I noticed Konan looking at me.
"Are you hungry?" Her question was soft, almost hesitant, as though she wasn't sure if it was the right time to ask.
"Konan!" Yahiko shot her a glare, his jaw tightening. His eyes flicked to the small pile of food they had gathered, then back to me. "We don't have much," he muttered. "Our supplies are limited. I'm not giving you anything!"
"But Yahiko!"
"No means no, we cannot afford it."
I saw the edge of his defensiveness and understood immediately. It wasn't easy for them either, and I wasn't exactly in a position to demand anything. But then, I saw Konan's expression soften a bit as if she knew they could share, even if Yahiko was holding back.
"I'm fine," I said quickly, raising a hand in a calming gesture. "I still have some food on me."
I reached into my pack and pulled out the dried rabbit meat Shinichi and I had cooked the night before. The smell of it lingered faintly in the air, a reminder of the warmth we'd shared, the quiet camaraderie of preparing a meal on the road.
This was the last thing we did together before Hanzo caught us.
Damn it.
It wasn't much, but it would do for this.
I tore a few strips off and handed them toward the fire. "Here. You can take some."
Konan's eyes lit up, and her small smile appeared as she gratefully accepted the meat. "Thank you," she said, more energetic than she had been all evening. She almost seemed to brighten, as if something as simple as a meal had lifted her spirits.
Yahiko, on the other hand, was quiet. His brows were furrowed, his lips pressed together in a thin line. I saw the internal conflict written across his face. He didn't want to take what little I had given, didn't want to feel like he owed me anything. But after that moment of hesitation, he eventually took the small portion, his fingers gripping the dried meat more tightly than necessary. He didn't meet my gaze as he chewed, his face unreadable.
I didn't press him. The moment felt fragile, and pushing him any further would only shatter it. Instead, I leaned back against the stone wall, my own hunger forgotten as I watched them.
For a moment, the tension in the air lightened. It was a small act, sharing a meal, but it seemed to bridge the gap between us, even if just for now.
"Thanks," Yahiko muttered at last, his voice rougher than before, but the underlying apology was there, even if he wasn't going to say it outright.
I nodded, the fire crackling as the rain continued its endless rhythm outside.
...