---
Three hours had passed since Alaric and Haku left Konoha. The initial, comfortable chatter of their journey had given way to a quiet, focused rhythm. They moved through the dense forests of the Land of Fire, not with the hurried pace of shinobi on an urgent mission, but with the steady, ground-eating stride of seasoned travelers.
As evening began to bleed purple and orange through the thick canopy of leaves, they made camp in a small, sheltered clearing beside a gurgling stream. A fire crackled merrily in a stone-ringed pit, its warmth a welcome counterpoint to the cooling air. The rich, savory aroma of a wild chicken, which Alaric had hunted with almost lazy precision earlier, filled the clearing.
They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the crackle of the fire and the gentle murmur of the nearby water. Alaric took a slow drag from a cigar he'd lit, the smoke curling into the twilight sky, watching as Haku expertly turned his own portion of the roasting chicken over the flames.
"By the way," Alaric began, his voice a calm rumble that didn't disturb the peace of the clearing. He took a bite of his perfectly cooked chicken, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. "I'll be granting you full autonomy in this mission. I'll only be acting as a guide, or step in if something's too dangerous for you."
Haku, who had just been about to take a bite of his own meal, froze. He looked up, his dark eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and profound confusion. "Full autonomy? Why? I'm a Genin."
"You're already very experienced with different kinds of missions from your time as a mercenary with Zabuza," Alaric explained, gesturing with a piece of chicken. "I want to see your full capability as a shinobi, not only in fighting but also in decision making."
"..." Haku remained silent, processing the weight of Alaric's words. He had led small reconnaissance missions for Zabuza, yes, but this was an A-rank mission. The responsibility for its success or failure was now, apparently, his. He understood, of course, that his official rank was a mere formality, a way to integrate him into Konoha's system. But to be given this level of trust, this level of command, so soon…"So you mean, in battle, I should act like I'm alone?"
"Yes," Alaric nodded, tossing the cleaned bone into the fire. "Don't worry," he added, a faint, almost casual smirk on his face. "Even if you were to lose all your limbs, I can heal them back in no time."
Haku's eyes widened again, this time in disbelief. He was about to retort, to question the absurd claim, but then he remembered. He remembered the man who could teleport, who could speak to the Hokage as an equal. He let out a slow breath, his skepticism warring with the undeniable evidence of Alaric's impossible power. "You're adept at Iryōjutsu?"
Alaric considered the question for a moment, then chuckled softly. "You can say that," he said, his gaze drifting up towards the first stars beginning to appear in the darkening sky. "I can heal any type of disease... can attach limbs back to a person's body instantly."
Haku stared at him, the sheer, casual confidence of the statement was more convincing than any boast. He didn't know whether to believe it or not, but a part of him, the part that had seen the impossible made real, simply accepted it. He gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod. "That's... fascinating."
"It is," Alaric smiled, his gaze returning to the fire. "Anyway, do you have any questions?"
Haku thought for a moment, his mind shifting from the impossible nature of his new sensei to the practical realities of their mission. He nodded. "The mission, it's A-rank. A bandit camp led by a rogue shinobi... do you have any more information regarding the target?"
"Not really," Alaric shook his head. "There's also nothing suspicious about the scroll, there's just no context. So, it's either the rogue shinobi leading the bandit camp is a B to A-rank himself. There's also no information if their camp could have any other shinobi in it. We also have no information of the location of their camp, so we'll have to gather information once we arrive in Yugakure."
"And you're giving me full autonomy over this mission?" Haku questioned again, the weight of the responsibility settling on him. He received only a calm nod and a quiet chuckle in response, which made him sigh, a long, weary sound that was swallowed by the crackling of the fire.
The blonde looked up at the sky, at the brilliant, scattered diamonds of the stars. "Go to sleep," he said, his voice softer now. "I'll keep watch first. I'll wake you up after a few hours."
---
Three days passed. The dense forests of the Land of Fire gradually gave way to a more mountainous, geothermal landscape. Plumes of steam rose from cracks in the earth, and the air carried the faint, sulfuric scent of hot springs. They had arrived in the Land of Hot Water.
The village of Yugakure, the Village Hidden in Hot Water, was nestled in a valley, a peaceful, almost resort-like town that seemed a world away from the militaristic atmosphere of Konoha. A large, traditional archway stood at the main entrance, a painted sign hanging from its crossbeam. "Welcome!! To the Hot Spring Village, Yugakure." It was a warm, inviting welcome.
Alaric stopped just inside the gate, turning to Haku. "Alright," he said, stretching his arms with a yawn. "I'll find us a room at the nearest inn. You can do whatever you want. You've got full autonomy, remember?"
Haku nodded, his gaze already sweeping over the town, his mind shifting into mission mode. "I'll gather some information and buy something to eat. We'll rendezvous back here in three hours."
"Good," Alaric just nodded in approval and headed off towards a large, well-kept building that looked like a promising inn. Haku watched him go for a moment, then turned and began to walk towards the village center.
It wasn't as busy as Konoha, but the streets were still filled with a lively mix of locals, travelers, and shinobi wearing the Yugakure headband, their demeanor more that of relaxed security guards than active soldiers.
As Haku moved through the crowd, he felt the familiar, unwelcome weight of dozens of eyes turning to look at him. Men, women, even some of the shinobi… their gazes lingered, a mixture of curiosity, admiration, and something else he couldn't quite place. He sighed internally, a familiar frustration rising.
'Damn my face,' he thought, pulling the collar of his kimono up slightly, a futile attempt to make himself less conspicuous. 'Getting information's going to be hard.'
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