A few days later, as the aftermath of Tsunade's rejected proposal still lingered over the Hokage Building, Konoha quietly welcomed the approach of the New Year.
Though the war's gloom hadn't lifted, Kushina refused to let the festive season pass in silence. Determined to bring a little life back into the village, she dragged Ryo out shopping.
As usual, Mikoto arrived outside Ryo's home right on time. Her calm demeanor and gentle smile made her presence feel natural, as if she had always been part of their world.
"Mikoto? You're here again?" At first, Kushina would blink her big blue eyes in mild confusion whenever Mikoto joined them. Mikoto never explained. She would just help fix Kushina's collar, gently take her arm, and say softly, "It's a nice day. Let's go out together." Sometimes, without asking, she would carry whatever Kushina bought.
Eventually, Kushina's doubts faded like melting frost. Her suspicion gave way to routine. When Mikoto picked up a bag of candy Kushina had glanced at earlier, she took it without hesitation and turned to Ryo.
"Ryo, pay for it."
The way she spoke carried a casual sense of familiarity. Mikoto's presence had simply become part of what felt like home.
The three walked through Konoha's streets together. Kushina darted from stall to stall, loading decorations and snacks into Ryo's and Mikoto's arms. Ryo carried the growing weight without complaint, his expression flat as always. Mikoto stayed quietly at Kushina's side, offering the occasional suggestion, but mostly just keeping pace.
Still, wartime Konoha lacked the warmth of true festivity. The streets were busy but subdued. Most faces were strained with worry—about food shortages, delayed supplies, or loved ones at the front. Decorations were sparse. Signs reading "Limited Stock" hung outside many shops. Laughter came quietly, never rising to the cheerful chatter of years past. Even with the New Year approaching, the war's weight pressed heavily on everyone's shoulders.
Kushina felt it too. Her hand paused over a string of red lanterns. The brightness in her face dimmed. The festive red looked too vivid against the gray street and anxious expressions.
"Forget it," she said quietly, putting the lanterns back. "We've bought enough. Let's go home."
The spark that had driven her earlier faded, replaced by quiet disappointment.
Ryo gave her a glance but said nothing. Mikoto nodded softly.
"Alright."
The three turned and walked home in silence, the air around them dim with dusk.
Far away in the Land of Wind, the atmosphere inside Sunagakure was suffocating. A storm of grief and rage hung in the air. Even the desert wind howled through the village as if mourning.
Inside the Kazekage's tower, the air was thick with tension. Elder Ebizō sat frowning, his fingers tapping the edge of a sand map. His sharp eyes were clouded with unease. Beside him, Chiyo sat rigid, her lips pressed together, her gaze shadowed by grief deep enough to bend reason.
The Third Kazekage, master of Magnet Release, stood by the window. His face was drawn with exhaustion. Around him, the village's top shinobi stood silent. The weight of recent losses filled the room like lead.
Years of war had brought Sunagakure to the brink. Supplies were low, the economy strained to collapse. Even outfitting and feeding the frontline shinobi had become a struggle. Desperate, the village had resorted to deep raids into the Land of Fire.
Not long ago, the Third Kazekage had ordered one such mission. An elite unit was to infiltrate Fire territory and secure resources. Leading the team were two of Sunagakure's finest, the pride of the village and of Chiyo and Ebizō.
Sasori's parents.
At first, everything went smoothly. Under their command, the team struck several supply points, securing food, medicine, and critical tools.
On the return journey, while moving through a forest near the border, Sasori's father looked down at a small leather scarf he had picked up, a special piece of gear made for young puppeteers. Smiling faintly, he turned to his wife.
"Sasori will love this. He's wanted one for months. We'll make it back before the New Year."
His wife smiled too. She ran her hand across the cloth, her voice gentle.
"He'll be so happy. I can't wait to see his face."
But fate strikes hardest at moments like these.
Without warning, a wave of killing intent surged through the air.
A flash of white light cut across the dusk, cold and swift, a blade gleamed as it sliced through the wind, silent and fatal.
It was Hatake Sakumo, the White Fang of Konoha.
"Enemy ambush! Defend!" Sasori's father shouted. But his voice was drowned by the sound of steel.
His kunai clashed against Sakumo's chakra-enhanced blade, sparks bursting with the impact. The force numbed his arm. Beside him, Sasori's mother reacted instantly. Her fingers flicked, sending out a swarm of poisoned senbon.
But Sakumo vanished.
In a blink, he reappeared behind them. His blade swept through the air in a glowing arc.
The edge cut across Sasori's father's throat.
Blood sprayed out. He staggered, clutching his neck, eyes wide in disbelief. His knees hit the ground. He looked at his wife one last time. Pain. Regret. Words that never came.
"No!" Sasori's mother screamed. Her chakra burst in a storm of threads, venom surging from her hands like snakes.
But Sakumo's next strike was already coming. His face was cold, merciless. His blade pierced her heart before her chakra threads could reach him.
Her eyes dimmed. Her body fell beside her husband.
Sunagakure's elite had fallen in seconds.
The remaining team members fought to the death, but it was over quickly. Screams echoed briefly. When silence returned, blood soaked the forest floor.
A new force arrived.
Magnetic chakra surged. Black iron sand rolled like a storm. The Third Kazekage landed from above, his eyes burning with fury.
"Hatake Sakumo."
His voice was low and fierce. Magnetic pressure swept across the area, drawing iron and shrapnel into a ring of steel.
Sakumo stood calmly. His team was behind him, prepared. The tension was thick enough to crush bone.
He knew fighting the Kazekage here would only bring needless casualties. The mission was done. Sunagakure's elite had been neutralized.
He raised his hand, signaling a withdrawal.
Konoha's shinobi began to retreat in disciplined formation. None hurried, none panicked.
The Kazekage's gaze dropped to the corpses of Sasori's parents. Rage and grief battled in his chest. He clenched his fists but didn't attack.
Instead, he summoned his chakra. Magnetic sand wrapped around the fallen bodies, lifting them gently.
He turned away, but not before casting one last look at Sakumo.
Then, in a swirl of black sand, he disappeared into the desert.
Back in the Kazekage's tower, tension crackled like dry wind. Chiyo and Ebizō had just received a report from the returning unit.
"Encountered Hatake Sakumo. Heavy losses."
Chiyo froze. Her eyes widened. The chair scraped sharply as she shot to her feet. Ebizō's face turned pale.
Neither said a word. They vanished instantly, speeding toward the rendezvous point. Chiyo's figure blurred and shot ahead.
When they arrived, the Kazekage stood quietly before a row of covered bodies. The evening sun stretched his shadow across the sand.
Chiyo saw the two forms and rushed forward. She pulled back the cloth, her hands trembling.
Her breath caught in her throat.
It was her son and daughter-in-law.
Her son's throat was torn open. Her daughter-in-law's chest had been pierced clean through. The blood had dried black. The sight burned itself into her soul.
"My son!"
Her scream tore through the village. She dropped to her knees, clutching her son's cold arm. Her nails broke the skin. Tears fell in a torrent.
"No... no..."
She turned to the woman beside him. That once gentle face was now still, empty.
Grief twisted into hatred.
"Konoha. Hatake Sakumo..."
Her voice was low and hoarse, but full of venom.
"You will pay in blood. You will die screaming. I will never forgive you. Never."
Her shriek echoed across the canyon, sharp enough to cut stone.
Behind her, Ebizō stood frozen. He reached out, placing a trembling hand on her shoulder. His lips parted, but no words came.
The Kazekage spoke, his voice hoarse with fatigue.
"Control yourselves. This debt, Sunagakure will not forget."
But Chiyo and Ebizō heard nothing. Their world had collapsed into grief and rage.
Neither of them thought of the boy still waiting back home. The boy who had been so excited about the New Year. The boy who had asked Chiyo to guess what gifts his parents would bring.
He was still waiting, unaware that snow would fall, the sun would rise, and his parents would never come home again.
(To be continued.)