April 16, 1002 A.S.
Location: Naruto Uzumaki's Apartment, Southern Residential District, Konohagakure
Time: 7:03 AM
The day began with a yawn. Not a battle cry, not a grand leap from bed. Just a yawn—deep and dragging—as Naruto stumbled toward his tiny kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a threadbare orange T-shirt that clung to his sleep-warmed skin.
He was already imagining it: warm rice, grilled fish, and—most importantly—a tall cup of milk. His stomach growled in approval.
He opened the fridge.
The dim bulb blinked once.
Empty.
There was no milk.
Naruto stood there, frozen like a shinobi who had just realized he stepped on a tripwire.
"No..." he whispered, voice hollow.
The milk was gone—the last of it guzzled the night before while he'd worked on his chakra flow diagrams. He'd promised himself he'd go out and get more this morning, but that promise, like many made at 2:00 AM, had vanished with sleep.
A knock.
Naruto blinked.
Another knock. Firmer.
"Naruto," came a voice. Cool. Measured. Just annoyed enough to be Sasuke. "Open up."
Naruto groaned as he padded barefoot across the floor, flipping the bolt open and swinging the door wide.
Sasuke stood in full gear, arms crossed, hair still damp from a morning shower that probably cost him fifteen seconds off his schedule. He eyed Naruto's disheveled state, then peered past him at the wreck of scrolls, open books, and half-eaten dumplings littering the room.
"You're not even dressed."
"I was gonna get milk," Naruto muttered.
Sasuke didn't blink. "You can drink milk after. We've got a mission."
Naruto scratched his head, blinking blearily. "Another D-rank?"
"No," Sasuke said, producing a mission scroll from his pouch. "Escort and inspection duty. A village elder in Yatsuki-no-Mura—east, by the rice basin. It's a day's walk. Kakashi-sensei wants us geared and gone by eight."
"A day's walk?" Naruto groaned, slumping against the doorframe. "Why can't it be like... a tree's walk? Or a ramen cart's walk?"
Sasuke turned to leave, glancing over his shoulder. "Get dressed. You have fifteen minutes. I'm not waiting."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Naruto stared blankly for a moment before sighing. "All I wanted was milk."
Location: Main Road, Eastern Gate of Konohagakure
Time: 8:02 AM
Naruto was the last to arrive, predictably, and Kakashi's eyebrow lifted just barely above his masked eye as he gave the boy a once-over. His forehead protector was crooked, his sandals mismatched, and he was chewing on a rice ball like it was the last food he'd ever see.
"You're late," Sakura said with a smirk, arms folded over her chest.
"I blame the milk," Naruto replied around a mouthful. "There wasn't any."
Kakashi raised a hand to silence the chatter. "Yatsuki-no-Mura is small, but stable. Mostly rice farmers and canal workers. There's been some unusual activity near their irrigation lines—chakra residue, signs of tampering. Could be petty criminals. Could be bored academy dropouts. Could be something worse. We're to escort Elder Naimuro and investigate while we're there."
"Understood," said Sasuke, already walking.
Naruto fell in beside Sakura as they took to the road east, dust kicking up behind their footsteps. The sky was clear, birds in full song, and the cherry blossoms—those not already shed—danced lazily from tree to tree.
"Sorry I was late," Naruto mumbled, nudging her arm.
"You're always late," Sakura replied with a grin, but her voice was soft. "But... you always show up."
They didn't hold hands. Not yet. But they walked close enough that their sleeves brushed now and again.
Location: Yatsuki-no-Mura, Outlying Rice Village in the Eastern Heartlands
Time: 6:44 PM
By the time Team 7 reached the village, the sun was already turning golden over the rice terraces. It was a modest settlement, framed by raised wooden walkways and lush, flooded paddies. The scent of damp earth and barley hung in the air, and elderly villagers watched the newcomers from behind paper shutters.
Elder Naimuro, a short man with a spine like a hoe handle and skin browned by sun, greeted them with a wary nod.
"Been many years since leaf-nin walked through here," he said, beckoning them toward the largest storehouse. "Come. There's something you need to see."
As they followed, Sakura glanced toward Naruto, who had gone quiet, eyes scanning every field, every barn, every furrow of land.
She realized then that the milk incident was already gone from his mind. He was focused—truly focused. The boy she'd once giggled at for drawing frogs on his scrolls was now thinking like a shinobi.
And somehow, she found herself smiling again.
April 17, 1002 A.S.
Location: Yatsuki-no-Mura, Rice Field 4
Time: 5:35 AM
The sun rose slow and hesitant, brushing pale gold across the mirror-flat surface of the paddies. Mist clung low along the waterline, veiling the canal dikes and bamboo thickets in ghostlike tendrils. Cicadas hadn't yet begun their morning cry. Even the birds seemed to whisper.
Kakashi Hatake crouched along the earthen bund between Rice Field 4 and the easternmost ditch, his single visible eye narrowed beneath the weight of half a dozen unanswered questions.
He pressed his gloved fingers to the damp soil just at the lip of the irrigation channel. The surface glittered with residual moisture—but beneath that, something more subtle. A faint heat. A tingle at the edge of perception.
"Chakra residue," he murmured, voice low. "Fresh. Someone was here last night."
He turned his hand slightly in the morning light. The chakra clung like the after-image of lightning, thin and sharp. His frown deepened.
Sakura knelt nearby, diligently recording notes in her small leather-bound field journal. Her brow furrowed in concentration, lips pursed in a quiet mimicry of her mentor's seriousness. A smear of soil marked her wrist where she'd steadied herself against the embankment, unnoticed but earned.
Across the paddies, Sasuke stood half-shadowed beneath the slanted roof of a collapsed storage shelter, surveying the terrain with predator stillness. His eyes scanned the ground like blades cutting through fog.
"Three sets of prints," he finally reported. "Not villagers. Military soles. One's heavy—possibly armored. They've come through twice in the last few nights. Never the same path."
"Professional?" Kakashi asked without turning.
"Disciplined, at least."
A splash behind them.
"Hey!" Naruto called out, arms pinwheeling as he staggered on the narrow plank path. A stalk of rice balanced precariously on his nose. "Bet none of you can hold this for ten seconds!"
Sakura bit back a laugh. Sasuke didn't even look up.
Kakashi sighed into his mask. "Naruto."
The boy froze mid-balancing act. "Yes, sensei?"
"Less rice circus. More situational awareness. We're in potential enemy territory."
Naruto dropped the stalk with a sheepish grin. "Right. Situational awareness. Got it."
But when Sakura snorted quietly behind her notepad, his grin widened.
Kakashi stood, brushing dirt from his knees. "The trail arcs back toward the southern granary. Same pattern I found near the elder's barn—targeted exploration, not drunken loitering. Someone's testing defenses."
"Bandits?" Sakura asked, adjusting her notes.
"Maybe," Kakashi replied. "But with chakra involved, the list narrows. Could be ex-shinobi. Could be missing-nin looking for rural cover. Or someone using this place as a staging ground."
Sasuke's gaze sharpened. "They'll come back. They left nothing behind."
Kakashi nodded. "We'll be ready."
Location: Southern Watchtower, Canal Overlook
Time: 6:03 AM
The wooden slats of the watchtower creaked softly beneath Naruto's elbows as he lay prone beside Sasuke, binoculars pressed to his face. The rice fields stretched out before them like a living mosaic—green veins etched across silver mirrors.
"I ever tell you," Naruto whispered, "that I hate being still?"
"Every day," Sasuke replied flatly.
Naruto shifted. "I'm just saying... I kinda miss when missions were just weed-pulling and dog-walking."
"That was last week."
"Exactly. Simpler times."
Sasuke's eye twitched.
Naruto peeked sideways. "You ever miss that?"
Sasuke didn't respond.
"I mean—sure, we were broke, barely trained, and covered in dog hair—but at least we weren't being watched by chakra ghosts in a rice swamp."
"That wasn't simple," Sasuke said coldly. "That was humiliation."
Naruto chuckled. "You mean when that pug peed on your pack?"
Sasuke turned slowly, and for one impossible second—just one—the corner of his mouth twitched. Barely. A single beat of amusement. Then it was gone.
Naruto blinked. "Holy crap. That was a smile."
"Shut up."
"Confirmed smile. Uchiha Sasuke: 1% human."
"Shut. Up."
Then: a low whistle. Sharp. Three short bursts.
Naruto's grin vanished.
Kakashi's signal.
Movement.
Location: Rice Field 4, Eastern Drain Channel
Time: 6:27 AM
Kakashi motioned them to stillness as the three figures came into view—just silhouettes against the morning mist, crossing along the far irrigation ditch. They moved with purpose, their chakra signatures low but coordinated.
One held a scroll tube slung across his back. Another carried a crescent-bladed sickle. The third, cloaked and hooded, walked like a shadow given form—no wasted motion, no telltale rhythm. Dangerous.
Kakashi's voice was a whisper. "Watch, don't engage."
They nodded.
The trio crept toward a storage shack half-sunken near the levee. Two peeled off, beginning to breach the old wood.
But the third paused.
Turned.
And looked directly toward them.
Naruto's breath caught.
"Seal ward," Kakashi muttered. "Damn it—they laid detection traps on their last run."
The cloaked one raised a hand—and a burst of ink-like smoke erupted from his sleeve.
The figures vanished in a sharp crack of displaced chakra. Gone.
Kakashi was already moving, landing beside the shack a heartbeat later. Naruto and Sasuke flanked either side, Sakura drawing up the rear with her notepad still clutched tightly.
Too late.
Nothing but the smell of scorched wood—and a black mark burned into the shack's wall.
A seal signature.
Sakura stepped forward, studying the residue. "It's precise. Layered. Not a beginner's design."
Kakashi frowned. "No. This is no amateur. And this isn't just a burglary."
He scanned the horizon, his voice low. "We need to assume this was reconnaissance for something larger."
He looked to his team—three Genin only weeks out of the academy, still balancing rice stalks and solving chakra puzzles.
"This is no longer a D-rank mission."
Location: Edge of the Eastern Forest
Time: 6:41 AM
Naruto stood a little apart from the others, gazing past the paddies toward the woodline where the figures had vanished. The morning mist had begun to rise, burned away by the sun's slow advance.
He didn't smile now. Didn't joke.
Something had shifted in his chest—a tug of something heavier than chakra or curiosity. A feeling he couldn't quite name.
He'd thought this mission would be about rice. Maybe milk. Maybe earning praise from Kakashi or a smile from Sakura.
But now...
Now it felt like something was watching them back.
And whatever it was—it knew his name.
April 18, 1002 A.S.
Location 1: Hokage's Office, Konohagakure
Time: 8:19 AM
Confidential Field Report: Team 7
Mission ID: D-Rank Escort/Observation — Yatsuki-no-Mura
Submitted by: Hatake, Kakashi (Jōnin)
Delivery Type: Crow Summon Scroll
To the Office of the Hokage,
Re: Field Observations, April 17, 1002 A.S.
As ordered, Team 7 arrived at Yatsuki-no-Mura to conduct routine observation, assist with D-rank logistics, and escort two elderly residents during their market exchange. The village is quiet and agriculturally stable, though notably isolated from major trade routes. All parameters suggested a textbook D-rank mission—until 0530 hours yesterday morning.
My team observed faint chakra residue near irrigation routes and storage barns, indicating recent clandestine presence. This chakra was not residual from the villagers or past shinobi patrols. Traces matched rogue field chakra—unrefined, likely untagged.
At 0627 hours, three individuals breached the outer granary storage. These were not villagers. Two carried standard shinobi contraband gear (sickle, scroll tube). The third demonstrated advanced stealth and dispersion technique. Upon detection, they used a unique seal-based escape jutsu and left behind a burnt marker—classified as a personal chakra signature seal, encrypted and cloaked. Not academy-level. Not common.
My team was not compromised physically. However, I believe these individuals were testing the area for future action. This mission no longer qualifies as D-rank. I request immediate reclassification to C-Rank Surveillance with potential for escalation.
Recommendation:
Increase patrols along eastern outer-farmlands.
Investigate Mezirow correspondence and rogue shinobi registries for matching seal types.
Assign fallback teams in case of follow-up engagement.
Attached:
Diagram of seal signature recovered from granary
Map of intrusion paths
Chakra trace notes from Haruno, Sakura
Field sketch (Uchiha, Sasuke) of third individual's hand-sign profile
Team 7 remains operational and uninjured. Awaiting orders.
– Hatake Kakashi
Jonin, Team 7
Konohagakure no Sato
The Hokage leaned back as the final line of ink faded in the glowing red seal on the parchment scroll. He let the paper rest on his desk, the smoke from his pipe curling over the kanji like low-hanging fog.
"Rogue signatures... at a rice field."
He frowned.
"Always the quiet places."
Outside the window, the breeze stirred the ancient Hokage banners. Somewhere in the south—past the ridges of Mezirow and the deep gorges where diplomacy had turned silent—something was beginning to move.
And now, the youngest team in the village was caught in the ripples.
Yatsuki-no-Mura, Overlooking Canal Ridge
Time: 5:07 PM
Naruto sat on the wide wooden ledge that overlooked the rice paddies to the south, his legs swinging freely, feet bare and trailing just above the waterline. The fields shimmered as the wind rolled across them, each stalk bowing like a thousand green arms in unison.
Beside him, Sakura Haruno adjusted a small wooden puzzle in her hands—a tangram-like hexagon Kakashi had given her the night before. Its pieces clicked with subtle precision, but the pattern eluded her.
"I think the fox goes here," she murmured, half to herself.
Naruto leaned over her shoulder, peering at the delicate carvings with the seriousness of a surgeon. "Nah, you've got the tail wrong. See the curve? It wraps left."
He reached forward and, with a surprisingly gentle hand, turned the piece 90 degrees. It snapped into place.
"Oh." She blinked. "You're right."
He smiled, not smug—just quietly pleased.
Sakura studied his profile as he turned back toward the fields. His eyes were calm in the fading light. Not the wild boy she'd once pitied, the one bleeding behind the academy gym, fists clenched and teeth chipped from another beating. Not the loudmouth prankster throwing paint on the Hokage Monument just to feel seen.
No—this was someone else.
Stronger. More precise. More patient. Still silly—but steady in a way that made her chest ache.
"You've changed," she said, softly.
Naruto raised a brow. "You think so?"
"I know so," she replied. "I remember when you didn't even know how to fold a field tent. Now you're building seals more advanced than Iruka-sensei's."
He blushed slightly. "I mean... I still can't fold a field tent."
Sakura laughed.
Naruto turned to her, serious for a moment. "You're not so bad yourself, y'know. That last seal you designed? Kakashi said it would've taken most Genin a year to figure out. You cracked it in a week."
She lowered her eyes. "Only because I had someone to chase."
He tilted his head. "Who?"
She didn't answer at first. Then she looked up at him, green eyes steady.
"You."
A stillness passed between them—not awkward, not uncertain. Just real.
Naruto smiled again, softer this time. "You're not chasing anymore, Sakura. You're running right beside me."
A quiet passed, and the wind rose again. In the distance, the bamboo swayed like dancers mid-reverence.
Sakura reached out, fingers barely brushing his.
He didn't pull away.
April 18, 1002 A.S.
Location: Hokage Tower, War Room
Time: 6:42 PM
The council room in the Hokage Tower was cloaked in early dusk shadows, lit only by the wavering flames of wall sconces and the rising swirl of Sarutobi Hiruzen's pipe smoke. The long stone table before him was covered in open maps, shinobi field reports, and aged parchment scrolls documenting border treaties no one had read in years.
Hiruzen stood in silence, his brow furrowed as his eyes fixed on a crimson marker pinned along the southern edge of the Land of Fire.
Mezirow.
Once a minor trade kingdom.
Now—silent.
Across from him stood Shimura Danzō, wrapped as always in bandages and secrets. Beside him was the quieter, elder Homura Mitokado, folding and unfolding a slip of paper without reading it.
"It's been forty days without a diplomatic courier from Mezirow," Hiruzen said at last, his voice grave. "And now Kakashi sends me this."
He slid the scroll across the table.
Homura read silently. Danzō did not bother. "Rogue chakra signatures in a rice village may be bandits, nothing more."
Hiruzen's gaze sharpened. "Bandits don't use advanced seal techniques. And they don't test border farms near a known migration corridor. You and I both know what that suggests."
Danzō's one visible eye narrowed. "Recruitment."
"Or reconnaissance," Homura added quietly. "They could be sending feelers into our borderland to test our response time. Or worse—our inaction."
Hiruzen turned to the large regional map pinned to the wall behind them. He tapped a long-stemmed pipe against a ridge line painted in fading greens and browns.
"Three hundred miles south," he said. "Right here. The Kōryūzan Mountains. They've long separated Mezirow from the Land of Fire. Harsh terrain, thin mountain passes, bandit-run trails. A natural barrier. A forgotten one."
The Kōryūzan—"The Mountains of the Ancient Dragons"—had been a border shield since the Warring Clans period. Steep and wind-scarred, the range curved eastward like a broken spine. During the Second Great Ninja War, the mountain passes were battlegrounds between Iwagakure mercenaries and Mezirow defenders. After the war, Mezirow had withdrawn into semi-isolation, honoring peace with the Land of Fire—but never fully trusting it.
"We have had no official relations with Mezirow in over a decade," Hiruzen continued. "But now... they've stopped all diplomatic traffic. Closed their mountain gates. Even their grain trade to Taki and Grass has ceased."
Danzō scowled. "That is not the behavior of a stagnant country. That is preparation."
"Which is why I am considering a small reconnaissance team. Discreet. No banners. I want eyes inside Mezirow before we're caught blind."
Danzō leaned forward. "If you do this, Hiruzen, do it with operatives who understand discretion. I will prepare a Root team—"
"No," the Hokage said firmly. "No Root agents. I won't risk Mezirow seeing this as provocation. The moment they identify Root involvement, we confirm their worst fears—and ours."
Danzō's mouth tightened but he said nothing. Homura exhaled slowly, placing Kakashi's report back on the table.
"There's also the matter of their leadership," he said. "Mezirow has a king—but not one we know well. He's young, untested, and surrounded by old war loyalists. There are rumors that their military caste has been rearming under the guise of internal militia restructuring."
"A soft rebellion in the making," Danzō muttered. "They want to reclaim something."
"They always have," Hiruzen replied. "And they've never forgotten our support for the Northern Coalition during the Valley Campaign."
Homura nodded slowly. "We backed their enemies fifty years ago. Their memory, like their pride, is long."
A long silence settled. Outside the war room, the wind whispered through the eaves like the breath of a forgotten age.
At last, Hiruzen spoke again.
"I want Kakashi's team to finish their mission. Quietly. If he encounters another breach, he is to retreat and report. In the meantime—" he picked up a scroll, "—I will select three Shinobi to cross the Kōryūzan range. No insignia. No visible allegiance. Just eyes."
Danzō folded his arms. "And if they're caught?"
"They won't be," Hiruzen replied. But the words sounded more like hope than certainty.
He turned once more to the map, staring at the jagged edge of the mountains that shielded Mezirow like a gate made of knives.
A kingdom gone silent.
A peace growing thinner.
A rice village caught in the storm's first breath.
And far to the south, under gathering clouds, something was stirring.
April 18, 1002 A.S.
Location 1: Hokage Tower, Sub-Level 3 – ANBU Assembly Chamber
Time: 9:03 PM
The chamber was underground, cool with stone, lit only by torchlight and the faint sheen of chakra-reactive glyphs that lined the old walls. It smelled of iron, ink, and silence.
The Third Hokage stood before four masked figures—each motionless in the formal crouch of the ANBU Black Ops. Unlike most teams, this one wore no animal-themed masks. These were plain white, unadorned, featureless save for a narrow black line from forehead to chin.
Team 17.
Rarely deployed. Never acknowledged.
"I will be brief," Hiruzen said, his voice calm but iron-spined. "This mission does not exist. You will move through the Kōryūzan Mountains by separate routes, enter Mezirow, and do what the elders call 'listen to stone.' No kills unless fired upon. You are ears and shadow."
He turned, unfurling a scroll to reveal a hand-sketched map of the southern passes.
"You will rendezvous here—Taka's Hollow—a collapsed mining village last recorded active twenty years ago. From there, each of you will enter Mezirow's midland in pairs. Observe their troop movements, civilian traffic, supply chains, any trace of rearmament."
One of the agents shifted slightly. The voice was soft, feminine, beneath the mask. "Rules of engagement?"
"Only if you are discovered in uniform. If you are exposed, you're no longer Konoha shinobi."
A long silence followed. Then each agent bowed their head, affirming the order.
Hiruzen's face was unreadable.
"Team 17," he said, his voice a whisper of both reverence and foreboding, "you are my last mirror. Do not let me see the wrong reflection."
With that, the team vanished, swallowed by smoke and shadow.
Location 2: Yatsuki-no-Mura, Old Rice Mill House
Time: 10:14 PM
Kakashi stared at the scroll in his hand for a long time. The wax seal of the Hokage was broken, the contents brief and to the point:
"Movement confirmed. Reinforce presence. Report anomalies. Do not engage without overwhelming odds. ANBU Team 17 dispatched. Expect additional instructions."
He refolded it with a sigh and slipped it into his pouch. Outside, the soft sound of wind through water crept through the windows. The old rice mill house had been repurposed as their temporary mission quarters. It was quiet, too quiet.
He stepped out into the common room, where all three Genin sat by a low table lit with oil lamps.
Sasuke was sharpening a kunai, his expression flat.
Sakura was re-reading her notes from earlier that day.
Naruto, however, sat with his elbows on the table, chin on his hands, staring into nothing.
"Team meeting," Kakashi said lightly, shutting the door behind him.
All eyes rose.
He sat cross-legged across from them and leaned forward.
"We're staying longer," he began. "HQ is concerned this isn't an isolated event. They're sending more eyes to the area. Our job is to keep watching. Quietly."
Sakura blinked. "Do they think it's Mezirow?"
"Unclear," Kakashi replied. "But they're treating this seriously. So we will too."
That's when Naruto finally spoke, voice lower than usual.
"Kakashi-sensei... do you think we're ready for this?"
The question fell like a stone.
Sasuke paused in mid-swipe. Sakura lowered her notebook.
Kakashi studied Naruto carefully. Gone was the grinning boy with rice on his nose. Here sat a Genin with tired eyes and lines of tension etched into the corners of his mouth. The kind of expression Kakashi remembered from older shinobi. The ones who had seen war.
"Tell me what's bothering you," he said gently.
Naruto hesitated, then looked up. "It's just... I know I've trained hard. I know I'm not the same kid who couldn't make a clone. But lately, with the seal stuff, and the chakra training, and now maybe fighting ex-shinobi or worse... I keep wondering if I'm being pushed too fast. If I'm in over my head."
Sakura reached out, her hand brushing his. She said nothing, but the look in her eyes was one of quiet support.
Kakashi leaned back, considering his words.
"You're not wrong to ask that," he said at last. "It's a good question. The kind too many forget to ask."
He looked each of them in the eye.
"Being a ninja isn't about having no fear. It's about knowing the weight of what you carry—and choosing to carry it anyway. If you weren't afraid, I'd be worried."
Naruto swallowed and nodded slowly.
Kakashi smiled behind his mask. "And for what it's worth, Naruto... you've grown faster than anyone I've ever trained. Your father would have said the same."
That made Naruto's eyes widen slightly. He glanced toward Sakura, whose expression softened.
Sasuke went back to sharpening—but his strokes were slower now. More thoughtful.
Kakashi clapped his hands. "Alright, get some sleep. We rotate perimeter shifts in pairs tonight. I want sharp eyes and quiet feet. Trouble's out there... and it's watching too."
Location: Far South, Kōryūzan Shadow Range
Time: Unknown
A cloaked figure stood upon a narrow cliff, staring north across the ridges and clouded valleys.
Behind him, a small campfire burned beneath an overhang. Another man joined him, face veiled in crimson cloth.
"They've sent their scouts," the second man said, voice sharp with contempt. "We've already found two of them."
The first nodded slowly.
"Let them come. Let them listen."
He turned, eyes gleaming amber in the firelight.
"We are no longer hiding."
April 18, 1002 A.S.
Time: 11:51 PM
Location: Yatsuki-no-Mura, Village Watchtower Overlooking the Southern Canal
The wind had changed.
It no longer rustled like a whisper through the stalks of rice, but moved slower, cooler—sliding along the wooden beams of the watchtower and brushing the rooftops below with a sighing breath. The fields shimmered under moonlight, pale and flooded, like a mirror reflecting the quiet unrest of the world.
Naruto sat cross-legged on the edge of the tower's rooftop, his cloak wrapped tight around his shoulders, legs tucked beneath him for warmth. The stars overhead blinked in and out through slow-drifting clouds, and the village around him slept.
He exhaled slowly, watching the vapor curl in the moonlight.
His clone—stationed by the tree line—had dispersed about fifteen minutes ago with no alerts. No signs of chakra pulses. No footfalls. No scents in the wind. All clear.
And yet, the unease never quite left him.
He didn't fear the dark. Not anymore. But in the dark, it was too easy to remember the other times he'd been alone—cold nights huddled behind garbage bins, bleeding lips, broken eggshells, whispered slurs from drunks and housewives.
He closed his eyes and counted his breath. One. Two. Three.
"Couldn't sleep?"
He opened his eyes and turned slightly. Sakura stood behind him, bundled in her blanket shawl, her hair caught by the breeze, soft and a little messy from the futon. Her feet were bare, her expression unreadable.
"I—no," she murmured, moving to sit beside him. "Bad dream. Or maybe just... too quiet."
Naruto scooted over, giving her room on the narrow perch. She sat cross-legged, the blanket curled around her like a cocoon. They sat in silence for several minutes, shoulder to shoulder, watching the rice paddies below.
"Isn't this your shift?" she asked at last.
"Yeah," he replied, voice low. "I just... wanted the silence. To think."
She glanced sideways. "You don't usually think. You bounce. You leap. You break things."
Naruto gave a weak laugh. "True. But tonight's different."
She looked at him fully now. "Because of the mission?"
He nodded, then sighed. "Because of me."
Sakura furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"
"I used to think becoming strong meant I'd stop feeling weak," Naruto said quietly. "But now that I am strong... sometimes I feel that fear more. Like... I understand what I could lose. Before, I had nothing. Now..."
His words trailed off.
Sakura reached out and gently took his hand beneath the folds of their blankets.
"Now you have us."
The silence that followed wasn't hollow. It was warm, full, complete. The kind of silence where two people breathe the same air and understand the weight of what hasn't been said.
"You remember that day I showed you my first seal?" she whispered. "Level Two. You sent me that letter. It's still in my drawer. I read it on nights like this."
He turned to look at her, his face lit by moonlight. "I didn't think it'd matter that much."
"It did," she replied. "Because even when you were ahead of me, you didn't forget me. You cared. That's more than most people ever gave me."
Naruto swallowed. "You matter to me. You always have."
Sakura leaned her head against his shoulder.
They sat that way for a long while, the moon crawling across the sky, time slipping quietly past them like the current beneath the southern canal.
Her voice broke the silence again, soft as the rustle of silk. "Do you ever think about... what comes after?"
"After what?"
"All this. Missions. Training. Being Genin. War."
He considered the question for a long moment. "Sometimes I picture... a house. With seals drawn into the doorframes. A garden with tomatoes you'd plant. A kitchen I'd probably burn."
Sakura smiled against his shoulder.
"And maybe a kid," he added, almost shyly. "A little girl. Or boy. I'd teach them shadow clones before they even learned to walk."
She let out a small laugh. "That's the most you thing I've ever heard."
He glanced down. "What about you?"
"I... I think I'd want that too," she said softly. "The house. The peace. And if it was you there... I wouldn't mind."
The moon moved higher.
A breeze swept across the tower, carrying the scent of wet wood and distant firelight.
She lifted her head, her eyes searching his.
He leaned forward, just slightly. And for the first time since that accidental kiss by the river, it wasn't chance—it was intention. His lips met her temple, warm and slow.
Sakura's fingers tightened around his hand.
They didn't say anything more. There was no need.
They sat there until the watch was over, until the clouds thickened and the stars blinked out, until the first hints of dawn began to creep back into the rice fields.
April 18, 1002 A.S.
Time: 12:39 AM
Location: Watchtower Overlooking the Southern Canal, Yatsuki-no-Mura
The soft creak of wood beneath gloved feet was the only sound that warned Naruto of Kakashi's presence. He didn't jump—he'd sensed his teacher's chakra long before he'd arrived—but he did glance up as the jonin emerged from the ladder well.
Kakashi's silhouette cut a familiar line against the starlit sky—tall, slightly slouched, a man always caught somewhere between watchfulness and detachment. But there was something gentler in the way he moved now. He stopped a few feet away, hands in his pockets, his single visible eye lingering on the sight before him.
Sakura had fallen asleep against Naruto's shoulder, her blanket shawl draped awkwardly over both of them, her hand still wrapped loosely around his.
Naruto didn't dare move. He could feel the slow rise and fall of her breathing, the way her head shifted slightly every so often in sleep, her forehead brushing his collarbone. She smelled faintly of tea leaves and laundry powder, and her hair had tickled his chin for the last half hour.
Kakashi didn't speak at first. He just stood there, watching them for a long, quiet beat.
Then he smiled.
It wasn't smug or amused, but fond—hidden behind the mask, yet somehow clear all the same. He walked forward slowly, stopping just beside the two Genin.
"Time to switch," Kakashi said quietly, voice low so as not to wake Sakura. "Sasuke's up next."
Naruto looked up, reluctant. "Yeah... I figured."
He moved slightly to shift Sakura, but Kakashi held out a hand to stop him.
"Let her sleep," the jonin said gently. "She probably needs it more than either of us."
Naruto nodded and let her be, his gaze trailing down to the tiny smile that had found its way onto her face as she slept. Something warm and sharp bloomed in his chest. He didn't know what it was exactly—something between protectiveness and awe.
Kakashi's eye turned skyward, scanning the stars.
"You're careful with her," he said after a pause. "More careful than I expected."
Naruto blinked. "I... yeah, I guess so."
"She's important to you."
Naruto nodded.
Kakashi looked back at him and spoke more softly now, with a note of something older and deeper in his voice.
"You opt to be careful, Naruto-kun. That's a good instinct. Your mother was much the same way."
Naruto blinked in confusion. "You... you knew my mother?"
Kakashi's expression softened behind the mask. "Very well. Kushina Uzumaki was... the kind of person who entered a room like a typhoon, rearranged everyone's assumptions, and left people better for it—whether they wanted to be or not."
He crouched beside Naruto now, glancing briefly at Sakura, making sure she was still asleep.
"She cared deeply, that one. Fiercely. The way you're holding her now? That's how she used to hold your father's hand when they thought no one was watching. Even after all those missions. Even after the losses."
Naruto's throat felt tight. "You mean... you saw them together?"
Kakashi nodded. "More than once. I was young—just a chunin at the time. But your parents were something else. A balance. Fire and calm. She pulled him into the temple for a moon-blessing the year before you were born. Said it was tradition for Uzumaki women to bring their lovers before the old seals."
Naruto swallowed. "You really knew them, huh?"
"I did," Kakashi said, then paused before adding with measured weight:
"...And so do you."
Naruto frowned. "I don't understand."
Kakashi stood and stepped back into the moonlight, folding his arms. "Even if you haven't worked it out yet, the man who raised you inside the walls of Konoha may have hidden much from you... but the blood in your veins, your instincts, your talents... they don't lie."
There was something electric in the air now—some trembling truth hidden behind Kakashi's words. Naruto's mind spun through fragments of memory: Iruka's kindness, the Hokage's long stares, the way villagers would glance at him and look away, and the picture—a dusty, damaged photograph of a blond man with blue eyes and a warm, quiet smile tucked in the back of the Academy files.
He had never asked, because no one had ever answered.
Naruto looked up. "Is my father... someone I should know?"
Kakashi's eye narrowed kindly. "He was someone the world should have never forgotten."
There was a long silence between them. The wind rustled across the rice paddies again, carrying the low croak of frogs and the ripple of water against wood.
Then Kakashi turned.
"We'll talk more when the time is right. For now, let Sakura rest. And you should too."
Naruto didn't press further. Something inside him had begun to churn—slow and heavy, like the weight of an old key sliding into a long-sealed lock. He looked down at Sakura again. Her head had shifted slightly in her sleep, and she was murmuring something he couldn't quite catch.
Kakashi was already halfway down the ladder when Naruto called after him.
"Kakashi-sensei?"
The jonin stopped.
"Thank you."
Kakashi lifted a hand in a half-salute without looking back. "You'll thank me later, Naruto. After you've learned the whole story."
And then he was gone, leaving the watchtower creaking quietly in the wind, and Naruto holding a girl he now realized he could one day love, in a world shaped by shadows of a legacy he had yet to claim.