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"I-I'll… kill you…!"
My gaze steadily fell from the purple barrier atop the Kage-only box sealing Lord Third away from the world. I clenched my fists. Jiraiya hadn't come. Lord Third would die. Nothing I'd said or done had helped. I didn't even have the luxury to come to terms with that because of the invasion unfolding all around me.
"G-Get a grip, Gaara." Temari held Gaara back by the arm. Kankuro blocked my view of him, so I couldn't see his face, but there was enough murderous intent in his voice for me to guess his expression.
Kankuro stepped back, stretching his arms out. "We had a plan!" He twisted his torso back to look at me. "Didn't expect this bastard to be that good though."
"O-Out of my way, I said!" Gaara shoved Kankuro aside, hunched over as he strode towards me. Sand floated out of his open gourd, writhing around him with each step. Looking past him, I saw the prisoner seal I'd stuck to the middle of his back in Temari's grip.
Good thing I had more to spare. I jumped back and summoned two shadow clones this time. A 3v1 would be irritating, especially if Temari and Kankuro planned to buy time for Gaara to build enough sand to construct the One-Tails, but it was doable. Gaara's sand surged toward me. Chakra flooded my legs in escape as my clones retreated with me.
Then, out of nowhere, a figure dropped between us, generating a brutal gust with a swipe of his arm, scattering the sand into grains. The man's presence alone was suffocating. He turned his attention to me for the briefest of moments—and I couldn't breathe. A turban-like headpiece partially obscured his face, save for the deep red markings slashing across one side.
His flak jacket and forehead protector marked him as a shinobi of the Sand. "Enough," the man barked, his voice sharp and commanding enough that Gaara stopped.
His sand faltered mid-air before slithering back toward him.
"Baki-sensei!" Temari's voice wavered with relief. She took a hesitant step forward, her fan half-raised as though she couldn't decide whether to defend or retreat.
"You've already drawn too much attention," Baki, apparently—continued, his tone cutting through the tension like a blade. "Gaara, do you plan to throw away the entire mission for this?"
I took a step back, my eyes narrowing.
Baki shifted slightly, his gaze flicking to me for a fraction of a second. "This one isn't worth it," he said, almost dismissively, before returning his attention to Gaara. "If you don't control yourself now, you'll regret it."
Gaara's breathing slowed, his posture rigid as his sand settled. My clones stood ready, tension thrumming through me.
"You two," he said, looking at Temari and Kankuro. "Get him away from here and buy him time. Gaara's the linchpin of this entire operation."
A whistle cut through the tension as two figures dropped beside me, their landings muffled by the chaos of battle.
"About time," I muttered, glancing at Choji to my left and Sasuke to my right. Choji had his hands balled into fists, while Sasuke's three-tomoe Sharingan flared to life.
"What's the plan, Naruto?" Choji asked, his voice low but firm.
"Stay sharp. That guy's dangerous," I replied, nodding toward the Sand ninja—Baki, they'd called him. "He's a jonin, alright."
"Figures." Sasuke scoffed, his gaze fixed on Gaara. "That lunatic doesn't look like he's stopping anytime soon either."
Proctor Shiranui appeared between us and Baki, his senbon glinting as he scanned us over. His voice rang out, cutting through the chaos. "Doesn't take a genius to tell you the exams are over," he said, pointing at the Sand shinobi. "The mission's clear—don't let those three genin pull off their plot!"
"On it," Sasuke said, his body already coiled to move.
Choji nodded, his hands forming a seal as he prepared to charge.
Baki's eyes narrowed, his posture shifting as he stood protectively between us and the trio behind him. We hesitated, having to weather the full brunt of a jonin's attention. The three Sand siblings took that chance to make a run for it, blasting across the arena.
I clicked my tongue and looked back at my two clones. "Right, you follow them with Sasuke," I said to the one on the left. "And you—"
He met my eyes. "Don't worry, I'll find him."
Proctor Shiranui threw the senbon in his mouth at Baki, cutting the blanket of oppressive chakra short. "Go!"
"Sasuke!" I reached into my pouch, pushing a stack of prisoner seals into his hands. "Subdue Gaara with these. One of my clones will go with you. It's only got a third of my chakra, but even then, it's more than those two have."
He frowned. "What are they for?"
"There's no time to explain! Subdue him before he does anything strange like hiding and building up chakra otherwise, we'll all die!"
"But—"
"Get going!" Proctor Shiranui bellowed before darting into close-combat range with the Sand jonin.
Sasuke gritted his teeth and took off, pursuing the Sand Siblings over the arena's wall.
"What about us?" Choji asked.
"We're gonna help the spectators evacuate," I said, running the opposite way from Sasuke and up the arena wall.
The roar of the chaos around us seemed to press in, but I pushed forward, leaping over debris and sidestepping bodies strewn across the stands. The sight ahead made my blood turn cold.
Hidden Sound shinobi were stalking through the stands, blades in hand. They moved methodically, running their kunai through the defenceless throats of the sleeping spectators in the same manner a cook would cut cabbage. My blood chilled at the sight; I knew this was an invasion, but a part of me hoped they wouldn't be so cruel as to kill civilians. They slit the throats of the sleeping civilians with an effortless glee—and each stroke of their knives made my blood boil.
One of the shinobi turned toward a family slumped against the rail, a father shielding his child even in unconsciousness. His blade gleamed as he raised it. I launched myself forward, tearing through the chaos with a kunai in my hand before I knew it. I threw it with a burst of chakra out of my palms. The knife collided against his blade with enough force to send sparks flying, and more than enough to disarm him.
The shinobi staggered back, but before he could recover, Choji surged past me, slamming a massive fist into the enemy with devastating force.
"We've got to stop them all!" I shouted, adrenaline spiking.
Choji nodded grimly.
We didn't get far before another skirmish came into view. Near the edge of the stands, a group of Hidden Waterfall shinobi fought desperately. Four genin stood back-to-back with their jonin sensei, a haggard fellow.
Their movements were sharp but frantic, exhaustion clear in their faces as they fended off the Hidden Sound attackers pressing in on all sides. We charged ahead, Choji bowling through the nearest Sound shinobi. I followed, weaving between them, kunai sinking in the vitals of my unsuspecting enemies with ease.
Splashes of blood and the sound of bodies falling alerted the remaining three enemies, but they were outnumbered and surrounded. It was hard to appreciate how fragile life was until you started reaping it like a gardener mowing down grass. Shinobi were no different, for all the conceptual ideas behind ninja, and once absorbed into the heat of battle, ambushing most of them was easily fatal.
Perhaps Orochimaru hadn't cared to train them well, or their mindsets weren't the best, but that only made it easier for me.
The last enemy fell as my knife found the man's jugular, and I could only watch as the light left his eyes and his body slumped. I could almost see his dreams and goals, his desire for life fade. He was someone's son, perhaps a brother, lover, or even a husband. Did he have children? The thoughts made my insides churn in a way the smell of death failed to. Now that I was killing, no longer overwhelmed by instinct for self-preservation or the fear and trepidation over the act, all these unbidden thoughts flooded my mind.
Was there a more intimate yet reviled deed as taking a man's life? That these men were doing it so carelessly as if their own lives didn't matter only made me angrier.
A shaky voice awoke me from my stupor.
"T-Thank you!" An old man almost sobbed as he looked up. Then, he saw my face, and he stopped before grateful tears poured out of his eyes. "E-Even with the way we—"
"Go!" I said, cutting his apologies short despite the pitiful lurch my heart gave. "Now!"
He nodded, following the panicking crowd down the emergency stairs out of the wing. I moved on, shoving all my fury and the angst of my childhood he'd tried to unearth back into its box, joining Choji's fight with the Waterfall genin.
Shuji—Fuu's teammate—looked up, sparing a moment to nod at me, his knife carving through another shinobi. "Thanks for the backup!"
I ducked under a swinging blade and stabbed the attacker in the throat.
Choji ploughed through the last of the attackers, panting but steady. "This section's clear," he said, straightening.
The other Waterfall genin looked shaken but grateful, one of them stepping forward. "Thank you. We wouldn't have lasted much longer."
"No time for thanks," I said, my gaze sweeping the stands. More cries echoed from another section. "There's still more of them. Just do me a favour and help these people to safety."
Shuji nodded before a pensive frown took over his face. "...Say, have you seen Fuu and Haku at all?"
"I haven't," I said, frowning at the remembrance of the missing duo. "Now get out of here. It's not safe for the villagers. Honour the terms of our alliance and get them to safety."
Choji and I turned and bolted toward the next section, the cries for help urging us faster. We mowed through each section, killing as many shinobi as we could. Not each section needed our help. Participants from the previous stages fought back against the invaders, which helped get the civilians to safety.
"Move, Kiba!" I heard a familiar voice over the clang of weaponry.
I rounded the corner to see Team 8 and Karin—still under disguise even now—holding the line against a group of Hidden Sound shinobi. It was them against four Sound shinobi who'd hidden as spectators. Kiba lunged forward, a transformed Akamaru at his side, their combined form spinning into a blur of claws and fangs that tore through an invader's defence.
Shikamaru stood behind them, his shadow writhing across the ground. He managed to trap two of the enemy shinobi, which stopped them from murdering a retreating couple.
"Ino!" Shikamaru called out, his voice strained as his shadows flickered under the pressure of holding multiple targets.
"On it!" Ino darted forward, throwing a volley of kunai at the frozen shinobi.
"We're here!" I called, vaulting over a broken railing to land beside Shikamaru. Choji barreled through behind me, slamming into a shinobi with enough force to send him flying into the wall.
"About time," Shikamaru muttered, sweat dripping down his face. "We're stretched thin and there's way too many of them."
Kiba skidded to a halt beside me, panting. "What happened to that Gaara guy?"
"Don't worry about that. We're being invaded," I said. "Shikamaru, focus on the civilians. This is the last section. After this, head out to the village and help the civilians to safety. I'll bet you anything there's more shinobi out there."
I turned to Karin, almost saying her name before catching myself. "..Are you okay?"
She nodded.
"You've no reason to fight for us, so I won't ask," I said. "Just get back safe, alright?"
"Says who?" she replied, frowning. "I'll help these three out as much as I can."
"Are you sure?" I asked. "Not that the help isn't appreciated."
Karin smiled. "I don't know… Shikamaru seems to have it all under control."
"Where was this side of you before, I wonder," Shikamaru said, wiping his face on his forearm. He sighed, too tired to snark back at her. "If that's the case, I'll need to know your capabilities. Nothing too detailed; strengths and weaknesses, the lot."
Ino raised her voice. "This isn't over yet—we can do all that afterwards. For now, just cover me!"
Shikamaru groaned and released his jutsu to focus on guiding the still-unconscious audience members through the exit. Choji and I stepped forward, forming a defensive line with Kiba and Akamaru, Ino and Karin at our backs.
One of the Sound shinobi raised his sword, bringing it down on his ally right next to him and destroying the formation. Sliding back, I stood over Ino's unconscious body, guarding it as Kiba and Choji made short work of the panicking Sound shinobi.
Shikamaru sighed, slumping to the ground. "This was not what I expected when I got out of bed this morning."
"Yeah, I don't think anyone did," said Ino, sitting up and rubbing her face with a sigh. She met my gaze briefly before looking away.
I frowned—was she still shaken up over the Nine-Tails?
"Let's go," said Choji, running after the civilians.
I glanced over Team 8 before we followed him out, some—and by that, I meant Shikamaru—more reluctantly than others. We emerged from the arena and stepped into chaos. The orderly streets of the village, so familiar just hours ago, were unrecognisable now—a battlefield steeped in smoke, blood, and the screams of panicked civilians.
Amidst all that chaos, families clutched each other as they sprinted through the wreckage, ducking under falling debris and dodging stray kunai. There were plenty of those who failed, turning merely into another corpse on the death-filled street. Some children cried out for their parents, their voices were lost in the din of combat and the roar of flames engulfing nearby buildings.
Above us, rooftops were alive with battle. Hidden Leaf shinobi clashed with invaders from the Hidden Sound and Sand, their silhouettes darting between plumes of smoke. The sky itself seemed angry, the late afternoon sun struggling to pierce through the haze. I could hear the sounds of combat in the small backstreet alleys between houses and shops and caught glimpses of the occasional scuffle in the street.
A detonation shook the ground, a nearby shop collapsing into rubble. A group of civilians stumbled from the wreckage, their faces streaked with ash and terror. A young woman dragged an injured elder, his leg bloodied and twisted at an unnatural angle.
"Over here!" one of the Leaf genin ahead of us called, motioning them toward the evacuation route. The woman nodded frantically and hurried past, her eyes wide with fear.
And the worst was literally still yet to come. I could see the shape of a titanic three-headed snake mowing its way towards the centre of the village. Every so often, insect-like figures would dart in the snake's way, only to be swatted back to earth, and the streams of ninjutsu aimed at its figure were responded to with zero tolerance.
I cursed, looking around at the carnage and the oncoming devastation. "Team 8, help out with the evacuation. Choji, with me!"
"Hey!" Kiba yelled at my back. "Who died and made you boss?"
Invaders jumped into our path, but they fell each time. All those years of desperate training, squeezing out every ounce of potential I could from my body were for a moment like this—one I hoped would never come, but trained for anyway.
It was all too easy to kill them, and that only made my earlier anger resurface. But I buried the heat deep inside. Anger of this kind was as blinding as it was invigorating—but ignoring it was easier said than done.
I slammed my kunai hilt-deep into the latest attacker, and Choji knocked him down for good measure. In the distance, the three-headed serpent loomed far more intimidatingly than before.
"Let me handle this," Choji said, looking away from me. "Go and back up Sasuke."
"Why?" I frowned. "I haven't received any feedback yet, so I'm sure he's fine. You can't handle that snake alone."
He went for his pouch, removing the case holding the three pills he'd shown me earlier. Popping the lid open, he picked out the red one and swallowed it with a grimace. "...Tastes horrible—and it's spicy too."
"Hey!" I yelled, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him around to face me. Sure enough, I could see overwhelming fear in his brown eyes. "It's going to leave you emaciated. Choji, I don't think there's anyone around to help you if that happens!"
"Well, no one's around to stop that snake," he replied, trying and failing to produce a smile. "Naruto, I've got this. We don't have time. Let me go."
He was afraid and didn't even bother to hide his fear. His fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles were bone-white. Despite it all, he seemed to be in firm control of that fear—and wasn't letting it freeze him with indecision like it had before.
I gritted my teeth. "...You'd better not die."
"I'll try."
"You'd better not die," I repeated. "I'm serious."
He smiled then. "You're gonna love this, trust me." Without a word, he ran away, growing smaller in my vision before suddenly ballooning in size.
Not in the disproportional manner that I was used to seeing, either. Choji grew larger, rising to gigantic heights until the tallest buildings barely reached his knees. Without hesitation, he dashed towards the snake. Leaping an insane distance to crash into it with a roar that was loud enough that I could hear it.
Dread pooled into my belly as the gargantuan beast recovered and quickly began entangling Choji's figure in the distance. But then another gigantic Akimichi crashed into it, followed by a second, then a third, until the beast was crowded by a group of angry, giant-sized men.
I blinked, still in a kind of stupor, until a panicked cry snapped me back to attention.
A woman was trapped beneath a collapsed market stall, her face pale with terror as a Hidden Sound shinobi approached her. He didn't rush—he savoured the moment and spun his kunai around a finger, whistling a jaunty tune.
I clenched my jaw and charged, chakra flooding my legs. The shinobi didn't even turn in time. I followed through with a punch to the back of his head and slammed him into the ground hard enough that he bounced.
I'd tried to stab him in the heart for good measure, but my overzealous lunge meant the dagger lodged between his ribcage.
"Are you hurt?" I asked, my voice tight as I crouched by the woman.
Her eyes widened in recognition, and for a moment, fear mingled with something else. "Y-You're… you're the demon boy," she stammered.
Her words hit me like a physical blow, but I ignored her, focusing on lifting the debris pinning her legs. The wood shifted enough for her to scramble to safety, though her clothes were torn and bloody.
"T-Thank you," she said, tears spilling down her soot-streaked cheeks. Then, to my surprise, she added in a trembling voice, "And.. I-I'm sorry. I— We were wrong about you. Y-You're not—You're not a monster."
The words hung in the air. I heard every syllable, but they didn't sink in. I wouldn't let them.
"Get to safety," I said curtly, rising to my feet and turning away.
She hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, but then she fled, tracking down the path of corpses Choji and I had left in our wake. I exhaled sharply, my gaze sweeping the carnage. It was worse now, the sounds of battle blending with the cries of the dying and the desperate.
A group of panicked villagers stumbled out from a side street, only to scatter in terror as a Hidden Sand shinobi leapt down from a rooftop, a cruel smirk on his face as he butchered them one by one.
No matter what I did, I'd be too late.
He barely had time to react before I was on him. His kunai met mine with a sharp clang, but he staggered back under the force of our clash. All of these invaders were physically stronger than me, which forced me to use my chakra enhancement technique with every attack to surpass that gap, if only for brief moments.
I didn't give him a chance to recover, following up with a kick to his chest that sent him crashing into a pile of debris.
I slammed my foot down on his wrist, forcing him to drop his weapon. My kunai pressed against his throat, my hand steady despite the storm of emotions raging within me. I wouldn't give in to anger so easily again.
"H-Hey, kid," he rasped. "Look at my free hand."
Before I could slit his throat, he spat out a blast of concentrated wind, hitting me dead in the chest. I sailed over shattered doors and slammed into a stall, destroying it. Groaning, I stumbled to my feet with a sigh. I'd grown used to tearing through the Hidden Sound's lower-quality genin and chunin.
Unlike Orochimaru's ragtag village, the Hidden Sand was a member of the Great Five. Sure, they were poorer, but their shinobi were of an undeniably higher quality.
The Sand shinobi barely had time to flinch before I surged forward, Rasengan spinning violently in my hand. His kunai shattered the moment it met the chakra sphere, and the fear in his eyes was the last thing I saw before I drove it straight into his chest.
I pressed the advantage, slamming the Rasengan deeper into his torso before he hit the ground. The earth caved beneath us, the sheer energy pulverising bone and shredding flesh. His scream was brief, cut off as his chest collapsed under the relentless pressure. When the technique finally dissipated, there wasn't much left, only a perfectly round crater containing bits of ground bone where his torso and head were supposed to be, leaving the shredded ends of his legs and feet at the edge.
I stood, breathing hard, as the silence settled.
All around me, civilians screamed for their lives; shinobi fell to blades and fire from the rooftops and on the ground. The streets ran red with the blood of killers and non-combatants alike. These were the people who had turned their backs on me. The people who gladly treated me worse than scum, who glared at me when I passed, who taught their children to avoid and despise me.
In the end, they died as they lived: pitifully.
And yet… no one deserved this. Corpses after corpse, their faces stretched in agonised rictus.
The tangle of emotions I was trying to suppress resurfaced. Anger churned in my chest, along with a heat I couldn't quite name. My hands trembled as I formed the seals, biting down on my frustration, my revulsion, and my rage. Dozens upon dozens of shadow clones exploded into existence around me, their eyes reflecting the same fury burning in mine.
"Help the civilians," I barked out through gritted teeth. "Get them out of here, every single one of them that's still alive. And if you see any more of those Sound or Sand bastards, take them out."
The clones scattered. I watched them go, my breath coming hard and fast—and yet, I wasn't on death's door for summoning that many clones. I didn't care if these people ever thanked me or whether they apologised. I didn't care if they hated me for the rest of their lives.
They meant nothing to me, but I wouldn't let them die like this—I just wasn't that kind of person.
Chaos pulled my senses in every direction. I watched my clones dart through the streets, and for a moment, I stood there, unsure of where to go next, until a sharp pang of recognition coursed through me. Teuchi. Ayame. And then I thought of Haruto, Nori, Ko, and even Konohamaru—but the thought of them didn't bring much panic; their teachers would keep them safe.
I hadn't thought about Teuchi and Ayame in the whirlwind of the invasion, but Ichiraku Ramen was close to one of the busiest market streets in the village—prime territory for the kind of slaughter I'd just seen. I spun on my heel, adrenaline flooding my veins as I tore through the village.
The burning buildings, the screams, the acrid stench of smoke and blood—it all blurred into the edges of my vision. The corpses added up, all of them dead or dying. There wasn't a single shinobi around; only the aftermath of their presence.
Teuchi and Ayame were some of the only people who had ever been kind to me. Real kindness, not pity or obligation. They'd treated me like family when the vast majority of people here saw me as a monster.
If anything had happened to them...
The thought burned hotter than anything else I'd felt today while chilling me to the bone.
I charged past the market stalls, leaping over debris and weaving around corpses. My heart slammed against my ribs as I caught sight of the building. Ichiraku Ramen was still standing, but its paper curtain hung in tatters, slashed by blades or blackened by stray flames. The smell of smoke clung to the air, but the stall itself wasn't on fire.
My hand flew to a kunai, chakra flooding my limbs as I launched myself at the group of shinobi at the end of the street. They moved to counter me, but I was faster—thanks to my chakra enhancement, I was stronger, and a hell of a lot angrier.
The first fell before he even had a chance to block, my kunai burying itself in his throat. The second slashed at me, but I ducked under his blade and drove my fist into his ribs, chakra-enhanced strength sending him flying across the street. The last shinobi hesitated, glancing back at the stall.
I buried him into the ground before he could run, his neck twisting with a sharp crack. A jolt of pain momentarily stopped me from running. I looked down to see a kunai buried in my side, and I cringed.
When had they stabbed me? Was I too angry to notice? Swallowing, I steeled myself and pulled off the offending kunai. The exit wound was smaller than expected, and the pain faded as the wound closed before my eyes.
My anger immediately cooled as if someone had doused me with a bucket of cold water. That damn fox was using my dangerously low chakra reserves to meddle and as much as I appreciated the ridiculous healing factor, I wouldn't have been wounded if I'd remained cool-headed.
And I'd bet my firstborn that he hadn't done it for free.
Panting, I turned and darted into the stall, my heart hammering. "Mr Teuchi! Ayame! Say something if you can hear me!"
A muffled whimper came from beneath the counter. I crouched and lifted the tarp, revealing Ayame clutching her father, her face streaked with tears.
"Naruto?" she whispered, disbelief cutting through her terror.
"...It's me," I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. "You're safe now. We have to get out of here."
Teuchi groaned weakly, his face pale but alive. Ayame nodded quickly, helping her father to his feet.
"You came," she murmured, her voice trembling as she looked at me. "You... you saved us."
"Of course I did," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. She hadn't meant anything by it, but with all the people looking at me as if I was going to kill them, I was sick of the disbelief. "Now move. I'll cover you guys until you're safe."
Ayame supported Teuchi as they shuffled toward the back exit past the kitchen. I stood in the doorway, scanning the street for any more threats and followed them out. Something too fast to see crashed past the street, stopping Ayame in her tracks.
"Listen," I said, hiding her and Mr Teuchi behind a dumpster. "There's a set of instructions in case of invasion. The first is to eliminate the invaders as quickly as possible."
"B-But," Ayame began to say.
"However, if you can't do that, move immediately to Step Two: focus on the immediate evacuation of non-combatants. Most of the shinobi are focusing on that right now, with only a few actually holding back the invading force." I looked around to see if the coast was clear, beckoning her out of the alleyway. "I'm going to deliver you to the nearest shelter."
"A-And after that?" she asked.
"I'll tell you once we get to the shelter. Give Mr Teuchi to me, come on." Teuchi groaned faintly, but he didn't resist, his breaths shallow and laboured. Ayame wiped her face, steeling herself as I gestured for her to follow me. "Stay close," I said, my voice firm. "And keep your head down."
We slipped out of the alley. Fires crackled, smoke billowed into the sky, and the air was thick with screams and the clash of steel. Ayame stuck close to my side, her eyes darting nervously as we navigated the war-torn streets. The shelter wasn't far—a fortified storage building repurposed to house civilians in emergencies—but the streets between us and safety were one hundred per cent riddled with danger.
The shelter came into view with its reinforced walls standing resolute amidst the chaos. A pair of chunin stood guard at the entrance, ushering civilians inside.
"Get them in," I said, handing Teuchi over to one of the guards. "Make sure they're safe… please."
"W-Wait!" Ayame called out. "Y-You said there was a third step. What is it?"
"Once the non-combatants are safe, eliminate the enemy," I said, sharing a nod with the two guards. Before I could leave, her arms wrapped around me, and I could feel her chin against my shoulder.
"Naruto… thank you," she whispered.
I sighed and turned. "You don't have to thank me. I'm just sorry you had to see that."
As Ayame and Teuchi disappeared into the shelter, I turned back to the street, scanning for the next threat. The group of civilians I'd just saved from the Sand shinobi huddled nearby, their fear palpable even as they realised the danger had passed.
One of them, a woman clutching a child to her chest, hesitated. She stepped forward, her face a mixture of gratitude and trepidation. "Th-Thank you," she stammered, her voice barely audible. "I—"
"Don't," an older man cut in, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. His eyes flicked to me, narrowing. "Come on, we need to go. Now."
"But—" she protested, glancing at me again. Her gaze was conflicted, but I could see the gratitude she couldn't voice aloud.
He dragged her away, the rest of the group following without so much as a glance in my direction. I watched them retreat, the woman craning her neck to look at me until the man pulled her head forward, forcing her to keep moving.
The bitterness rose unbidden in my throat, but I swallowed it, shoving it into the same place as everything else.
The world twisted, a series of images and sensations flashing through me for a brief moment. I blinked unbidden tears from my stinging eyes and rubbed my face. That was just the feedback from one clone. I wasn't sure how many I'd summoned, but this was probably going to be a regularity for a while.
I raced back through the village. Why wasn't I dangerously close to chakra exhaustion? Summoning that many clones should have been more than enough to screw me over, but I felt fine. The answer was once again bitter. I glanced at a shard of broken glass; my eyes were as blue as ever, so the Nine-Tails influence ought to be still at bay.
But right now, I couldn't afford to look a gift horse in the mouth, no matter how much I wished otherwise. I would have to ramp up my training to not rely on the damned fox, and maybe try meditation to fortify my mind from his influence.
The clamour of battle rang in my ears as I moved through the streets, searching for the next sign of danger. My feet barely hit the ground as I pushed forward, determined to find someone, anyone, who needed help.
A high-pitched scream stopped me in my tracks, and I skidded to a halt. It came from somewhere ahead, near the market district, but past Ichiraku Ramen. I altered course, the sound of children's cries spurring me on. A cluster of kids, no older than eight or nine, cowered behind a toppled cart with five Sand and Sound shinobi further ahead.
Between the children and their attackers was Haku. "Leave," she said. "I won't say it again."
The shinobi's derision echoed off the ruined buildings. One lunged forward, swinging a kunai at her. Haku deflected the attack with a swipe so fast I almost didn't see it. I clenched my fists, debating whether to jump in. She didn't seem like the kind of person who'd let those kids get hurt, but she wasn't fighting to end things either.
Else, she would've killed them on the spot. A ridiculous thought entered my mind then. Had Haku even killed before? Surely Zabuza and the Demon Brothers wouldn't be soft enough to always take the final blow in her stead? Or was she a hypocrite who left her enemies barely alive to die of so-called natural causes mere hours later?
In the middle of a war, hesitation was as good as a death sentence. The decision was almost made for me. A stray kunai thrown by one of the Sound shinobi flew wide, sailing dangerously close to the huddled children.
One child screamed, clutching another for support.
Haku's entire demeanour changed. Her eyes narrowed, and her hands moved in a flurry of seals. Ice erupted from the ground, forming a dome of shimmering mirrors around her opponents. The shinobi barely had time to react before Haku disappeared, her reflection flickering on every surface.
What followed was a blur of movement—needles struck with precision, and kunai slit their throats, cutting off cries of pain before they could fully form. When the mirrors shattered, the Sound shinobi lay motionless on the ground.
Blood stained jagged fragments of her mirrors a pale red, glinting.
Haku stood still for a moment, her breathing misting in front of her as she looked down at the bodies. Then she turned, her expression softening as she knelt in front of the children.
"You're safe now." Her usually soft voice came out raspy. "Go to the shelter. Quickly."
The children hesitated, but they obeyed when she gently guided them toward a nearby alley. She pointed them toward a path where the presence of Leaf shinobi would shield them from further harm.
Once they were gone, Haku rose, her eyes scanning the area. She didn't notice me but brandished her senbon with a heavy frown before leaving. I couldn't let her vanish again—as things stood now, only she knew where Fuu was. Not that I could do much for her—nor did I want to. There were more important things to me right now than Haku, who'd unfortunately been caught in something she'd had no idea was coming.
A sudden jolt hit me mid-step—a burst of foreign memories flooding my mind, not my own but my clone's.
The feeling was always disorienting, like being yanked backwards and forwards simultaneously. I caught a flash of white hair and glasses reflecting the glint of firelight. The flow of images cut off abruptly, leaving behind its last, burning impression before an honestly grisly death.
I'd found Kabuto—and better yet, he knew I was coming and seemed to welcome it.
.
— — —
.
Haku tensed, but she didn't turn immediately—she had trained her well enough to know better—but her senses locked onto the source.
Someone was here and was watching her. Her hand drifted to her senbon pouch, fingers brushing the cold metal. She allowed herself a small glance, and there he was—Naruto Uzumaki, crouched between a market stall, caught somewhere between weariness and impatience.
"You're not very good at stealth," she said coldly, her hand drifting toward her senbon pouch. "Or are you just done pretending to follow me?"
Naruto straightened, his lips pulling into a thin line, obviously irritated at being found. "...It's not like I wanted to run into you, you know? In case it's not obvious, why are you here?"
Her grip on the senbon tightened. "Why are you here talking to me, then?"
"I could ask you the same thing," he said, shrugging. "But I don't have time for this." He took a step back.
The senbon tightened in her hands as he moved away.
Naruto stopped, his eyes narrowing. "What do you want, Haku? You obviously can't go back to Zabuza, which explains why you're still here during an invasion you've no reason to fight off."
Her senbon met the edge of Naruto's kunai with a sharp clang, the force of the clash sending sparks into the air. He pushed her back, but despite the obvious impatience and aggression in his strikes, he wasn't at all trying to kill her.
"You're wasting your time and mine," he said, sidestepping her next attack and countering with a chakra-enhanced kick that sent her skidding backwards. "But fine, let's do this."
She summoned her ice mirrors, her movements almost mechanical, and darted between them with the speed and grace she had been trained for. Naruto cracked one of the mirrors with a burst of chakra-fuelled strength, forcing her out. She darted to the side to enter another, but he was already there, blocking her path with a kunai in hand.
She stared him down, her breath quickening as the answer rose unbidden to her lips. "...I-I have to kill you."
"You failed at that once already." Naruto sighed, his stance relaxing slightly though his gaze remained sharp.
Haku's jaw tightened, but she didn't lower her weapon. Zabuza's orders had been clear: tie up the loose ends around her identity. But standing here now, having failed to do so once before, she didn't know what to do with herself besides half-heartedly fulfilling orders whose deadline had passed.
Fuu's cold eyes, the way her master had sent her off without hesitation—it all began to click, piece by painful piece. She shook her head violently, trying to shove the thoughts away. "You don't know anything!"
If she stopped, she'd think, and if she did that, the doubts would return stronger than ever. Her strikes grew wilder while her precision faltered. Yet, even as she launched wave after wave of senbon, something inside her felt hollow.
"Why are you still fighting?" His voice echoed across the ruined street. "What are you trying to prove?"
Haku froze mid-step, his words cutting right through her forced aggression. Her breath caught. The questions bounced around inside her, over and over. Why was she still fighting? What was she trying to prove?
The answer came to her with crushing clarity: she had absolutely nothing to prove.
She remembered Zabuza's refusal to even look at her once Fuu had entered his employ. She'd tried to tell herself it was a test of her loyalty, a chance to redeem herself in the face of multiple failures—but now, in the middle of this pointless fight, the truth she'd been avoiding hit her all at once.
He sent her here because she outlived her usefulness—and he didn't care whether she died. Not anymore. Shinobi are just tools, Zabuza had always told her. And useless tools… like she was. And when a tool broke, it was discarded. Her senbon fell from her hand, clattering to the ground. She stood there, trembling, with her will to fight plummeting by the second, until only crushing emptiness remained.
Naruto stopped, lowering his kunai but keeping his distance, his eyes full of pity. Haku's legs felt weightless, but she forced herself to stay upright. She couldn't answer him.
He watched her for a moment longer, then sighed. "Look, I don't have time for this," he said, his voice softer now. "And I can't hand you over to anyone—no one would believe me if I told them what happened here. So just go… get out of here."
Haku looked up at him, her hands trembling at her sides. "Go where?" she whispered.
"I don't know," he said, turning away. "That's up to you. But this fight is over."
He walked away, his figure disappearing inside the smoke and ash. Haku stayed where she was. She couldn't go back to Zabuza, but she couldn't leave. She couldn't even bring herself to fight anymore.
Numbly, Haku shook her head, wondering whether killing herself now would be the better option. He'd more or less confirmed that he'd hand her in at his earliest convenience… but if she bided her time, maybe she could escape in the chaos raging around them.
And so she followed him.