Blonding - A Time Travel Fic

Chapter 20

"You need to leave," Minato said. "It's not safe here anymore."

Kushina opened her mouth, began to say something, then snapped her jaw shut like a cupboard and pouted. "Fine," she said, gathering up the dishes she'd brought with her and moving to stand in the middle of the room. "You go ahead and get yourself killed out here by an angry mob. I'll be sure to put in a good word for your replacement."

Naruto snorted. "You'll have to find her first."

Kushina let out a confused, muffled "Huh?", but before she could finish the thought Minato met her halfway and they both disappeared in a soundless flurry.

"Alright, what now?" Jiraiya said, peeking through the creaky wooden blinds in Hoshu's home and down into the village below them. "Everyone's lined up outside. I don't get it."

"It looks like some kind of ceremony," Minato said, reappearing. "Their leader just died. It makes sense that they have a cultural tradition that dictates what they do next."

"Is it just me," Boruto said from the doorway, frowning, "or is the jungle browner than yesterday?"

Naruto made his way to his son's side and took a look for himself. "Y'know, it sure looks like it."

"We need to get back up to the mountaintop," Minato said. "We were so close. I'm sure of it. There's a chance that even though One died, we'll still be able to figure something out."

Naruto gave his father a skeptical look. "What about these people?"

"What about them?" Minato blinked.

"We can't just come here, take advantage of whatever abilities they have, and then leave," he said, shrugging. "That's just not right."

It wasn't. Naruto didn't need to reflect on his personal history to know that. He bit back the sour feeling in the back of his gut that sullied his opinion of his father, gripped his son by the shoulder in a show of solidarity, and watched the trees shift in the wind.

"Well, at the very least, we should definitely try to do something," he said, not ignoring the way Boruto leaned into his touch.

"There's a congregation of monks up there now," Minato said. "We'll have to wait until they clear out before we can really do much of anything."

"Where's Obito?" Jiraiya muttered, walking across the room and peering into the seating area attached to the opposite end of the kitchen. "Did he run off somewhere?"

"That's a good question," Minato asked.

"Here," Obito said, voice thin and wiry, frayed like rope. He came around the corner of the house, ghosted past Minato, and sank into one of the empty chairs strewn around the table that had served as their base of operations. He stared at the wood graining with his lone, coal-black eye, and waited.

"What's wrong?" Minato asked, blue eyes alight with fear. "Where were you?"

"He's dead," Obito mumbled. He grabbed at his shoulder, clutched at some phantom pain.

"What?" Minato reached out, made to grasp the boy's shoulder.

Obito shirked out of the touch with a hiss of air. "Just... go."

"You did something, didn't you," Jiraiya said, eyes steely and unforgiving. It wasn't a question.

"Someone's coming," Boruto said, pointing down the sloped pathway leading through the dying jungle.

Naruto peered through the door again, saw the outline of a white-robed monk marching up the hill. "It's Hoshu." Naruto grimaced. "He doesn't look too happy."

"I'm sure these are trying times for him," Minato said.

"Yeah, and who do you think caused it?" Jiraiya said, crossing his arms.

The sound of sandals on wood echoed through the tight-knit weave of the cleared forest around them, snuck through the open windows of Hoshu's cottage like cobras. They carried with them just as much venom, and when Hoshu himself burst through the door, ears beet red and brow furrowed further than Naruto had ever seen before, the entire congregation of Leaf shinobi flinched.

"All of you," Hoshu said calmly, steady like the eye of a storm. "Get out of my home."

Minato opened his mouth, stopped mid-breath, and instead bit his lip.

Naruto stepped forward. "We're sorry," he said. "If that matters for anything. We didn't want any of this to happen."

"Take your cursed souls," Hoshu said, "and leave this island before you taint another one of our kind with your foreign ideologies."

Minato had already begun gathering up his books and notes, disappearing intermittently to return them to what Naruto could only assume was some underground library bunker ten stories tall.

Hoshu stalked through to the other room, disappeared into his study, and didn't return.

"What does that mean?" Boruto asked, after Hoshu slammed his wicker door shut.

"Taint another one of their kind?" Minato said, reappearing with empty hands.

"Three," Naruto said, and thought of the distraught, panicked look of the child not twenty minutes prior. "She looked terrified. Why did she look terrified?"

"I have a sneaking suspicion," Minato said, "that there's some obscure village tradition Hoshu's not letting us in on."

"You have to what?" Sakura said.

"It's a village tradition," Three said. She frowned. "I don't see how this is an issue."

"It's an issue," Sakura started, paused, then started again, "because it's not fair. Not fair to you, or your childhood, or your village, or anybody else." She huffed a breath, furrowed her brow. "What about your dreams? Don't you want to be a ninja? That's why you came to the Leaf in the first place, right?"

"Sakura," Kakashi said. His voice was calm but powerful, like the breeze above a riptide. "This is their tradition. We have to respect it."

"Well I'm not going to," she said, standing straight. "As ranking medical officer on this mission, I determine that this…" she made a wild gesture at the tree, "procedure is unfit for human participation. I won't allow it. I can't allow it."

"It's not your choice to make."

Sakura gave him a pleading look – one packed with enough kindling to start a fire.

Kakashi stared at her right back, and after a few moments of silence where even the wind seemed to silence itself, Kakashi turned away. "Walk with me," he said. It wasn't an order; it was an invitation. He nodded to Shikamaru, who was watching the exchange with quiet complacency, and turned back towards the mountain path out of Three's earshot.

"Kakashi-sensei," Sakura said, once they rounded the corner and the bushes taller than either of them, "please tell me you understand this is wrong."

"I know," Kakashi said. "But that doesn't mean we have any say in what happens here."

Sakura frowned. "What if there's another way? For her to fulfill this role?"

"So what if there is?"

She sighed. "That girl is a child, sensei. She's not any older than Sarada. She has a whole life ahead of her. She shouldn't have to sacrifice herself for some sick, perverted, outdated village tradition."

"Doesn't she?" Kakashi said.

Sakura deflated, lowered herself to the floor, rested on an exposed root that was big enough to sit on.

"Let me ask you a question," Kakashi said, taking a step forward. He walked a little further down the trail until he was eye level with her sitting and him standing. "What do you think will happen when Naruto dies?"

Sakura lurched up from her slouch, eyes wide and fierce. "What?" She growled. "Why would you say something like that—"

"What will happen when Naruto dies," Kakashi said, "and the Leaf Village needs a new Jinchuuriki?"

"We don't need another Jinchuuriki," Sakura grit out. "The tailed beasts are free. That was part of Naruto's deal. He wouldn't so easily go back on something as important to him as that."

"If he's dead, he won't be around to make that decision," Kakashi said, blunt as a dull razor, but still sharp enough to cut. "If the Nine-Tails goes rampant, which is a possibility, we have to be ready."

Sakura stewed on her thoughts. "I really don't see how this is relevant."

"Tell me, Sakura," he said. "What do you see when you look out into this forest?"

Sakura ran a hand through her hair, tilting her head to get it out of her eyes. "I don't know, sensei. I'm not really in the mood for one of your cryptic life lessons."

"Ahh, but they usually are cryptic for a reason," Kakashi smiled.

With a huff, Sakura stood, dusted off the dirt on the back of her dress, and peeked over the wall of grass to look out towards the sea of jungle. "I see green," she said. "Orange. Red. It looks like fall is coming."

"But is it?" Kakashi asked. "Not only is it not the time of year for this kind of change, we're in a jungle. Jungles don't change leaves like the forests in the Leaf do."

Sakura's eyes widened.

"And on our way up here," Kakashi continued. "We didn't have to cut away at anything. The path was clear from yesterday."

Sakura frowned, rubbed at her chin. "It's like the jungle is frozen."

"It's like the jungle is dying," Kakashi corrected. He looked back up the mountain towards the tree. Splotches of emptiness between the branches let the sunlight through, and the tree itself rattled with dry leaves in the wind. "Why do you think that is?"

"Oh god," Sakura said. "It's not like that, is it?"

"I think it is." Kakashi took a step back up the trail towards Shikamaru and Three and a devastating decision. He kicked away at the loose leaves that had gathered around his sandals. "Sakura, you should know that as Hokage, I was tasked with something I was not happy about."

She said nothing. Kakashi continued. "Each year, at around the end of spring, I had to choose a new jinchuuriki. In case the worst case scenario happened."

"Wait, late spring?" Sakura asked. She scowled, eyes wild. "Kakashi, those hospital records were supposed to be for census recording and that alone! That's the only reason I gave them to you!"

"I made sure to check with the families of the child I chose, of course," Kakashi continued. "Since Naruto was – is such a star, they all said yes. Couldn't help but jump at the opportunity to have the baby boy or girl share a list with someone as powerful and important to the Leaf as the Seventh Hokage, I suppose. And the jinchuuriki of the Nine-Tailed Fox are an exclusive enough group as it is."

Sakura seethed. "What are you saying, sensei?"

"Every parent was the same. Every family was just as naïve as the last." He ran a hand across the scar on his eye. "They didn't know what Naruto had been through; didn't understand the sacrifices he had to make. Being a jinchuuriki was never something Naruto asked for, but he took it in stride.

"He's not going to live forever, Sakura," Kakashi said. "I think he of all people understands that. And if something were to happen, and the Fox did do something dangerous after all…"

"You needed a backup plan," Sakura said, voice quiet. She took a deep breath. "That makes sense. It's awful, but it makes sense."

He looked her in the eye, saw the fury and the passion of a fiery, doting mother. But he also saw the eyes of a young girl, no younger than Three herself, trying to make her way in a team full of impossibilities. Kakashi saw the eyes of a ninja, of a medic, of someone who understood sacrifice in the eyes of morality.

"It wasn't something I wanted to do," Kakashi said quietly. "Believe me. But bad decisions have to be made sometimes."

Sakura turned away stared off to some unseen place, and nodded. Her face was grim.

"That's what this is." Kakashi pointed up the hill. "That's what she is. She's the village jinchuuriki. She's the village Naruto, and the village replacement. She may not truly have a choice in the matter, but that's not stopping her from tackling her future with a sense of pride." He smiled. "She really is like Naruto in a lot of ways. Back when he was younger."

Sakura's jaw worked under her skin, but she simply sighed. "You're right. Maybe that's why this is difficult."

"She made up her mind," Kakashi said. She had been angry before, but now she looked tired and stressed and far more human than Kakashi had seen her in months. "It may have been a superficial decision, but it's important that she take her destiny in her own hands. At least give her that, Sakura."

"I'll give it to her," Sakura said, looking up the mountain, "but I'm afraid I'll never get it back."

"I'm going to go get my stuff," Boruto said, pointing to the part of Hoshu's house where they had slept, and walked out of the kitchen when his father nodded back.

This was entirely unlike him. He felt the palms of his hands tense up, felt them grow clammy and cold. Marching down the hallway towards Hoshu's study was like walking into a den of hungry lions. He'd seen the man's demeanor; he'd seen the man's rage. It was understandable, sure, but anger so physical and untethered meant it would latch onto anyone and everyone that dared block its way.

Boruto clenched one of his sweaty palms into a fist, and rapped it against Hoshu's door.

There was a moment – a horrible, sickening, gut-turning moment when Boruto's confidence evaporated into dust and left him stranded in the dark hallway with nothing but his wide eyes and taut gut. He tasted copper on his tongue, slackened his jaw when he realized he was biting his lip, and used what little strength sat behind his jittery nerves to force himself still.

He heard a chair pull back from a desk, heard bare feet tap on wood.

The door slid open with a sigh, and Boruto looked up into the tired eyes of their host.

"Oh," he said, "I thought you were one of the monks, come to fetch me."

He turned, walked back into the room, and left the door open – an invitation.

"Close it behind you," the monk said, after Boruto had crossed the threshold and Hoshu had thrown himself back into his chair.

Boruto did as he was told, stepped towards Hoshu's desk, and realized, far too late, that he had no idea what he wanted to say.

"Well?" Hoshu asked, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his eyes with a sigh. "What do you need?"

Boruto floundered, eyes darting across the room to try and find some sort of anchor that would remind him of what he came there for. He found it in a painting hung above the window – it was grey, and old, and folded in a few places, but Boruto recognized the figure behind the matted glass just the same.

"Three," Boruto said, and turned his eyes back to Hoshu. "What did you mean back there? You said we tainted her?"

Hoshu furrowed his brow. "You will have to forgive me. I was acting without peace of mind and spoke out of line."

"No," Boruto said, taking a step forward. He couldn't believe he was doing this: approaching a de facto village leader – challenging him. "I want to know what you mean."

"Three is…" Hoshu paused, "a difficult child to understand. She is headstrong, and curious, and wants to do right. But she is also afraid."

Boruto blinked, and connected the dots. "She ran away again."

Hoshu ran a hand across his bald head. "Nobody has been able to find her."

"Really?"

"It seems she has begun to have cold feet," Hoshu explained. "Unfortunate. Truly unfortunate."

Boruto shuffled in place on Hoshu's mat. "Uhh, why is it unfortunate?"

The monk gave him a glassy stare, then snapped his mouth shut. "Oh, my apologies; I forget that you are not from here."

He stood, pushed aside his chair with far more grace than before, and beckoned Boruto to join him at the long, sweeping window at the back of the study.

The wooden shutters we cast aside with a dusty rattle, and the jungle came spilling in, sounds and smells and heat cooking him like a tropical oven.

Hoshu leaned forward over the bookshelf in front of the window, paid no mind to the crumpling of scrolls under his weight, and took a deep breath. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Boruto took a hesitant step forward, maneuvered his sandals around some dislodged paper that had found its way onto the floor, and mimicked Hoshu's action. "Yeah, it is," he said truthfully.

"It's worth protecting," Hoshu said, biting his lip. "This village isn't cut from the jungle; it's made from it. We are the jungle."

He reached out, ran a hand over the waxy leaves of a plant that reached back. "This is our home. We are nothing without it."

Boruto watched Hoshu take the leaf and pluck it from its branch. He brought it close; lowered it so Boruto could see. He pointed at a small yellow spot, no larger than a ryo coin. "Do you see this?"

"Yeah," the blond said, raising an eyebrow. He leaned close, inspecting it. "It looks sick."

"Indeed it does," Hoshu said, voice tinged with something equal parts proud and sad. "This village is dying now, child. You can see it for miles."

As if to emphasize his point, Hoshu turned and looked back out the window. Boruto followed his lead, and sure enough – the forests were turning red and orange and fading away. He had been right; it wasn't just his imagination.

"It's because of One," he said, and it all made sense.

"Lord First is the anchor," Hoshu agreed. "He is what ties this village, and, indeed, this island, to the gods. He is what gives the forests their life, and what gives us the strength as a people to exist. He keeps us strong, keeps us safe, and keeps us aware."

Boruto turned, gave Hoshu a lopsided frown. "Keeps you aware?"

"Oh, yes," Hoshu chuckled. "As I said previously, all village decisions are sent through Lord First, and he is, naturally, our leader. But he has warned us of things, unprompted, many times in the past."

He frowned. "Although I must note that he did not warn us of you."

Boruto felt his mouth dry out, although he wasn't sure why. Perhaps it had something to do with the way Hoshu spoke; perhaps it was the way he glared out the window into the dense foliage like it was some sort of charging beast and Hoshu was its champion.

"Regardless," the monk sighed, "we are lost without his guidance. And it will only be so long before our village crumbles to dust around us."

A sudden thought came to Boruto like the crack of a widowmaker. "Have there been more than one... uhh... Ones?"

Hoshu stood a tad taller. "Indeed there have."

"What happened to them?"

"They became part of the trees themselves," Hoshu said, "but we do not forget them, nor do we take advantage of their sacrifices."

'Part of the trees,' Boruto thought, and the image of the tall, misshapen roots at the top of the mountain sprung to mind. He shuddered at the thought - each one of them had been a man at one point.

Hoshu licked his lips, taking a few long, sweeping steps around his desk and pulling a dusty bin off a shelf Boruto hadn't seen when he first walked in. He swept his way back, set the bin down on his desk with a quiet clatter, and pulled out a few old frames of glass.

"This," Hoshu said, "was Three's great grandfather - One's father." He held the glass painting in front of him, and Boruto took it with hesitant hands.

He saw a bald man, sitting tall, eyes closed under a tall tree. He looked young, from as much of the painting Boruto could decipher from the age and degradation, and the black moss that had grown across over half of One's body had barely climbed up his legs.

"What is that stuff?" he asked, pointing, before he could think.

"The tree," Hoshu blinked. "What else could it be?"

He took the plate back from Boruto and handed him another. "And this was the One before him."

Boruto knitted his eyebrows across his forehead, intrigued, and accepted the second painting.

It was a woman. Boruto's eyes opened in surprise.

"Is this a girl?" he asked, and turned to Hoshu. He looked again, just to be sure, and raised an eyebrow. There was no mistaking the sharp angle of the woman's jawline, or the gentle slope of her shoulder blades.

"Of course," Hoshu said. He threaded his hands into his robes and watched Boruto's face.

"She looks like Three," Boruto breathed.

A spark; a sudden realization.

Boruto turned on his heel and stepped forward into Hoshu's space. "Wait a second! Is this..." he took a breath, shook his head, "...is this what Three is supposed to do?"

"Yes, of course," Hoshu said. "What did you think she was to become?"

Rage bubbled up in Boruto's gut and crested like a crashing wave. "She trusts you."

Hoshu frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"She trusts you!" Boruto roared, clenching his fists at his side. "And you go and betray it like this?"

"Watch your tongue, boy," Hoshu said, narrowing his eyes. "Three knew this was her fate. Three has known all along."

"She thinks of you like a father," Boruto said, shaking his head, voice waxing and waning like the quiver of a violin. "And the first thing you do instead of be there for her when her grandfather dies is tell her she's about to become a tree slave."

"You are out of line," Hoshu said, smashing a fist against his desk.

The door flew open behind them, and Naruto appeared in the empty frame.

"What are you doing?" he bit out, hand gripping indentations in the wood of the door. "You are supposed to be getting your stuff, and leaving our gracious host alone."

Boruto fought back a growl. "Nothing. I was just leaving."

He tossed the painting of the girl onto Hoshu's desk, and it landed on a pile of paper with a soft thump.

"Boruto," Naruto began, but the boy just shot him a look, dipped through the doorway, and sidestepped him by going under his outstretched arm.

"I'm leaving," Boruto said, and did just that.

"Are you sure," Sakura said, "that this is something you want to do?"

She returned Kakashi's reminding stare and turned down to Three, who stood before her, draped in white and surrounded by an order of monks several scores wide.

"I'm sure," Three said, nodding. "This is my birthright. It is an honor to serve my village in this manner."

The monks around them moved like a lazy tide, drifted through the clearing, and lined the perimeter of the clearing like a wall of angels. One's body, just as stationary and just as quiet as before, sat across from them, tucked neatly behind the imposing frame of the large tree.

"Just checking," Sakura muttered, sighing.

Three smiled up at her. "Thank you, Sakura. Truly."

Kakashi moved forward and put a hand on Sakura's shoulder.

"We'll come to visit," Shikamaru said, for once without something hanging out of his mouth. He tipped his head in respect. "You and your village will always have an ally with the Hidden Leaf."

"It's time," one monk said, and directed Three away from them.

They walked the clearing, taking care to step over each twisted root, and Sakura watched with tense apprehension as the silence screamed in her ear and the minutes bore on. She traced an unmarked path, wound her way around the tree, searching for something.

"Here," Three said. She paused, turned, looked through a gap in the trees towards the far side of the island, away from the village. She nodded. "This is the spot."

The monk at her side nodded. "She has chosen." He stepped away, moved towards a gap in the others' formation and melted into the crowd.

The monks shuffled to the earth in one uniform motion and folded their robes in their laps.

Sakura frowned in surprise. She turned, looked down, and saw Kakashi following suit.

"Best to be polite," he whispered with a shrug.

Shikamaru and Sakura took seats beside him, and soon Three was the last one standing.

She paused, took a deep breath, turned in place. The village was behind them, compact and dainty but full of life and promise. The village's future was bright with Three in charge, Sakura was certain of it.

Three took an uneasy smile, closed her eyes, and turned back to the sea.

Boruto would find her. He knew he would. In fact, he knew exactly where she would be - despite not knowing himself how to get there.

He stopped running through the village after his lungs couldn't stand the hot, humid air a moment longer, and leaned over onto his knees to catch his breath once his sandals struck the wooden beams of the boardwalk they first arrived at. He turned his head, stared through his sweaty bangs at the sea, and winced as a ray of sunlight bounced off the flickering ocean and bit into his eye.

The village was quiet, but not dead - not like it had been in the morning. Boruto heaved a massive breath, stood tall, and marched to a stall vendor on the far side of the square, peering over the man's stack of mango with determination flowing through his blood like a disease.

"Excuse me," he said, startling the shopkeeper out of his reverie. "I need to know something. Can you help me?"

The flustered man panicked, looking over his shoulder to find someone else that Boruto could have been speaking to. Upon finding no one, he sighed, rubbed at his robes with his dirty fingers, and traded Boruto an uneasy smile.

"C-certainly, child." A pause. "Are you one of the... new ones?"

"New ones?" Boruto said, frowning. "What?"

"One that is," the shopkeeper elaborated, "not of our kind."

"Oh!" Boruto said. "Yeah, I'm from the Leaf Village." He looked around the square, saw all the eyes staring at him, and asked, "Do you know where Three's dad is buried?"

The vendor shrunk back like he had been slapped, and it was only then that Boruto realized that he probably should have worded the question less bluntly.

"The cemetery of the noble family is not for village visitation!" the man said, frowning down at him.

Boruto's eyes lit up like lanterns, and he winked back. "Didn't say anything about foreigners, though!"

It took three more inquiries with villagers on the streets before one child around his own age pointed toward the cemetery's general direction, and the sun was starting to set when Boruto finally stepped foot through the arched wooden gateway and found himself in the Hidden Sea Village's royal burial grounds.

It was remarkably overgrown, considering what Boruto had expected - but if it was as sacred as Boruto assumed it to be, given the reaction of the others in the Hidden Sea, it made sense.

Three saw him before he saw her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, voice hollow, as he rounded another corner of prickly bushes and forced his way through some tall grass.

Boruto jumped, turned, and grinned. "I knew it! I knew I'd find you!"

Three grimaced, and curled in on herself even more. "You don't have to yell," she said.

"O-oh." Boruto winced. "Sorry. I forgot this was a cemetery."

He stared over at her, watched the way she sat huddled on the ground before a stone obelisk with a name carved into it so faint Boruto couldn't make out the characters. The cemetery was far quieter than anywhere else in the village, which Boruto guessed was either because of the village's intense commitment to tradition, or because the quiet spot was why the cemetery was built there in the first place.

"I shouldn't have to do it," Three said out of the blue, eyes glossed over and staring at nothing. "I should have a choice."

Boruto's jubilation from finding her faded and left him only feeling guilty and empathetic. He frowned, walked over to her, and tossed himself onto the grass beside her. It bit at his back, but he paid it no mind. The pink-blue sky opened up before him, long strings of wispy clouds drifting through the air like festival lanterns.

He understood now why Three had come here.

"I don't want to," she continued, unmoved. "I want to fish like my father before me and have a family and do all of the things I was supposed to do." She sniffled. "The things I wanted to do."

Boruto hummed. He reached forward, plucked at a weed, and began to work the leaves off the stem without thought.

"I know I'm being a coward," she said. "I know I am. But I don't know what else to be."

"You're not a coward."

Three blinked, looked over at Boruto properly for the first time since he'd arrived. "What?"

"I said," Boruto repeated, "you are not a coward."

Three sighed through her nose. "And you know this how?"

"Because..."

Boruto froze mid-sentence. He had an answer, but couldn't vocalize it. It was more a feeling than anything else.

So he told her as much. "It's just a gut feeling. I don't know you really all that well" -Three raised a hairless eyebrow at him- "or, really, at all, yeah, but..."

He sighed, tossed the weed aside, fell to his back. "I don't know! You just seem like a good person."

Three frowned, watched a light breeze pick up the discarded plant and carry it along the ground by an invisible leash.

"I feel like I wasted my life," Three muttered.

"What?" Boruto said, surprised. "What do you mean by that?"

"I wanted to become a fisherman," Three repeated. "I wanted to buy a boat and make an honest living for myself. Do what my father did when I was a child, and what my grandfather did before him." She huffed. "Instead, I locked myself up in my cabin because I was scared. I never did anything."

Boruto stayed silent.

"But now," Three continued, "I'm out of time. I used it all up. I can't become a fisherman. I can't buy a boat."

She sniffled. "I worry my father would not be proud of me."

"Whoa," Boruto interrupted, "what? You can't possibly think that."

"It's what I believe."

"Well, I don't," Boruto said. "Not at all." He shrugged. "I think my dad is as dumb as they come, but I'm still proud of him."

Three raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's true," Boruto said. He propped himself up with his hands. "He's the leader of our village – kinda like what your grandfather is to yours. Well…" He frowned. "Was, technically, I guess."

He ran his fingers through the dirt. "I don't really think pride, or love, or any of that has anything to do with what you do. I do a lot of stupid stuff that gets me in trouble all the time, but my dad still loves me. And he tells me he's proud of me so much it makes me sick." He snickered. "It's just a thing dads do."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah!" Boruto smiled. He turned, looked at the monument next to them. "We're both in kinda weird situations with our parents, so I know what you're feeling right now. At least a little."

A pause. "I think your dad would've been proud of you." Boruto shuffled upright, carefully pulled himself to his feet. "I think that's all that really matters, right?"

Three watched him push his hands into his pockets, watched him saunter out of the cemetery with a quiet smile on his lips.

"Wait!" she called out, standing, and Boruto paused.

Three took a deep breath. "Wait for me," she said.

So he did.

"Is there something you can do?" Hinata asked.

Gaara murmured in thought, cupped the bottom of his chin with his finger. "I can try."

The hospital hummed around them, but Boruto and Naruto's occupied beds were as silent as a hushed whisper. Hinata turned when the door to their room opened, and a trio of staff marched in.

"Ma'am," one of the nurses said, handing Hinata a clipboard full of paper with notes scrawled across them in hasty red ink, "here's the report you requested from the chief nurse on staff."

She accepted the paperwork with a nod, flipped through the first five pages and shook her head.

Gaara slowly stepped aside and let the other two medic ninja do their jobs. He looked at Hinata's clipboard. "Will that suffice?"

"I think so," she said, and tore off a pair of papers from the top of the stack. The clipboard protested with a loud crack, but she paid it no mind. "Do you have a pen I can borrow?"

A passing nurse stuck one out for her as he passed, and Hinata took it with a blink of surprise.

"Thank you," she said.

"A shame, really," Gaara said, "that they are out of cellular reception."

"It's understandable," Hinata said, scrawling out a note in the margins with her neat, pennywise handwriting. "They are a long way from home, after all."

"Too far for my sand," he said, frowning. "I may have to call in a favor."

"Ask on Naruto's behalf," Hinata said, folding the papers in two and handing them over. "He has enough favors to call on to start a small army."

Gaara cracked a sliver of a smile. "Indeed he does." He accepted the note.

Hinata sighed, sank back down into the chair at her husband's side, and ran her hand down his arm until her fingers were locked with his.

"How much longer," Gaara said, "do you think this will go on for?"

Hinata's smile was a farce. "Not for much longer. At least I hope not for much longer."

Gaara nodded; a minute twitch at the neck. "I will do whatever I can," he said, and took measured steps as he left the room.

Hinata believed him.

"What happened?" Jiraiya asked. He cocked an eyebrow, watched Naruto slog back into the room.

"He ran off," Naruto huffed. He threw himself down into the chair next to Jiraiya's. "Again."

"Seems to be all the rage today," Minato said, cupping his hands over his notebook and leaning forward in his seat. "Any idea where he went?"

"He could be anywhere," Naruto said. "He was talking to Hoshu when I found him."

"Hoshu?" Minato said, eyes widening a sliver. "Really. That's…"

"Entirely unlike him?" Naruto finished. "Yeah. You're telling me. He picks now of all times during this trip to get a rebellious streak."

"Speaking of rebellious streaks," Jiraiya said, and nodded to the corner where Obito sat, head resting on the tabletop and shoulders slumped.

The boy stirred at the sudden quiet, raised his forehead, swiped away the piece of paper that stuck to his skin, and frowned. "What?" When nobody answered, he slid back in his chair. "Why are you all staring at me?"

"Because you're acting suspicious," Minato said. "Where were you this morning?"

"Walking," Obito said, word shielded and delicate like a late summer flower. "Through the woods."

"The woods?" Naruto asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The woods," Obito repeated. His posture tightened.

Naruto didn't know Obito. He understood the boy, for certain, but there was still something underneath the surface, something /cryptic/, that left Naruto's mind blanking and worries ringing.

He heard a clamor outside, looked through the open window to see a group of white-robed monks meander by.

His eyes widened.

"Obito," he groaned, running his hand through his hair. "You didn't. Please tell me you didn't."

"Didn't what?" Jiraiya asked, raising his voice and sitting up in his chair. "What's going on?"

"It wasn't something I did on purpose," Obito bit out through clenched teeth. "He just... died."

Minato gasped. "Oh no..."

"What happened?" Naruto asked. He narrowed his eyes. "We need to know what happened."

"What difference does it make?" Obito said, nostrils flaring. "He's dead anyways! Nothing is going to change that!"

"What you did," Naruto said, choosing each word very carefully so as not to lose his edge, "may have cost us our only chance of getting home. You don't need any other reason to tell us than that."

Silence.

"Obito," Minato said. Naruto perked up at the commandeering tone. "Explain. /Now./"

The Uchiha's eye darted from shinobi to shinobi. He was afraid, Naruto could tell by the way his pupils dilated and his eyebrows quivered.

Finally, Obito sank in on himself, exhausted. "I went to try and get him to talk again last night. I thought he might if it was just me." A pause. "I touched him."

"Why?" Jiraiya asked, shaking his head, jaw slackened. "Why on /earth/ would you do that?"

"I don't know!" Obito yelled. He slammed his fists into the table. Minato's notes rattled. "I don't know, okay? I just did it! I didn't realize anything bad would happen! I just..." He shook, grit his teeth together. "I just..."

"Alright," Naruto said, voice soft. "That's enough."

Minato sunk into his chair, folded in on himself, held his forehead with his hand.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"What?" Naruto asked.

"I'm sorry I asked to bring him along," Minato said, voice level.

The Uchiha froze in Naruto's peripheral vision.

"It's not your fault," Naruto said to his father. He turned away, leaned across the table towards Obito. "And yes, while you may have caused this, Obito, I'm not angry at you."

"You're not?"

"No." He shot the boy a small smile. "Accidents happen."

Obito's eyes widened, and he stared at the pile of papers in front of him. "Oh," he said.

"Seriously?" Jiraiya gaped. "He kills a /head of state/ and you're letting him off easy?"

"Yes," Naruto said, "because it's not my decision to make." He pointed at Minato, who had slid back in his chair with a sigh. "I'm not the Hokage here, after all."

"We'll talk when we get home," Minato muttered, shooting Obito a tired frown.

"That being said," Naruto began, rising to his feet again, "don't run off like that again. It's not just Minato and the reputation of the Leaf that's on the line. We're all in this together."

Minato nodded. "Agreed. I think it's in everyone's best interests, including the Hidden Sea's, if we can get you and Boruto home as soon as possible."

"Speaking of running off," Naruto sighed, shaking his head. "That boy. I don't know where he gets it from."

"I have some idea," Minato said, and if it hadn't been so true, Naruto would have laughed.

Boruto was walking ahead, mighty proud of himself and confident that he'd done something good for a change when Three rushed past him, grabbed his arm, and dragged him off down a side road.

"Come on," she said, and it wasn't a request.

The village around them settled in for the night, windows shuttered and lights dimmed. The streets were quiet at night in the Hidden Sea, but they were also bright; the moonlight bled through the humid air like paint dripping across canvas and stained the roads with the shadows from the trees. The island came to life in an entirely different manner once the sun set, and as Three pulled him down a gravel slope towards an abandoned dock on the coast, Boruto realized how safe he felt.

"What are you doing?" Boruto asked, and watched as Three began to tug at the mooring lines of a splintery-looking fishing boat.

"Get in," she said, nodding over her shoulder. When Boruto frowned at her and stood his ground, she turned from her work and gave him a microscopic smile. "Please?"

"Why do I get the feeling you're going to float me out to sea and leave me there," Boruto muttered, and Three laughed.

"What, afraid of a little open ocean?" she taunted. Boruto flustered.

"N-no!" he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I just... am not a very good swimmer, y'know."

Three untied the boat and it snapped away from the dock when she kicked at it, front end rotating out towards the sea. She climbed aboard, and Boruto hesitated only slightly before he swung a leg over the edge of the boat and leaned into it.

He stumbled in, stuck his hands out to keep himself from falling into the water as the boat shook and swayed.

Three smiled at him. "Sit down," she said. "The boat will rock less if you do."

The ocean current pulled them out to sea like a toddler tugging at her mother, and once the dock was no more than the size of a matchstick on the island's coast and the Hidden Sea came into full view for the first time, Boruto felt like it was trying to show him something.

"It's so small," he realized. "The island."

The forest of trees dissolved into a thick, indistinguishable blob of green, and Boruto could see the splattering of wooden wicker houses and village streets dotting up the mountain. Even from as far out as they were, he could still make out the massive tree at the highest point of the mountain.

"That's where I'll be," Three said, as though she had been following his gaze. "That's where I'll be until I die."

Boruto's eyes widened. "You mean you'll be stuck there? You can't even get up and leave every now and then?"

"Forever," Three sighed. "That is what each One does. They become One with the trees, and the forest, and the village. It requires sacrifice and strength of character, for the job is great."

She found a coil of rope at the bottom of the boat, tied it to the edge, and tossed the anchor at the other end into the water.

The sea quieted. Three pursed her lips; sighed.

"I don't think I'm ready."

Boruto felt like she dumped a great deal of her shouldered stress overboard alongside the anchor.

He chewed on his words for a moment, leaned to the side and watched the ocean waves lap at the boat beneath him. The moonlight cast bizarre shadows over the water, and he watched the way his reflection twisted and folded in on itself from the surface of the murky black sea.

"I don't think I'd be either," Boruto muttered.

Three watched him. "Really?"

"Yeah." He shifted in the boat, folded his hands under his thighs and leaned from side to side with the boat. "Dealing with stuff like that would be hard on anyone."

A thought. "Do you think your grandfather was afraid at first?" Boruto asked.

"That," Three said slowly, "I do not know."

Boruto shrugged. "I dunno. I would be scared too if it were me. I know my dad would probably be scared." He tilted his head to the side. "Probably even Hoshu."

Three went silent.

They were caught in an ocean current; the slow, meandering pace of the water's pull dragged them off to the side and around the other end of the mountain, towards the boardwalk.

"This boat was my father's," Three murmured, once the dim lights of the gas lanterns dangling above the village center came into a dull focus. "He used to use this to fish. He earned all of his money by fishing with this boat."

She bit her lip. "Everything I have now – my home, my food, my good graces… all of it was my father's."

Boruto smiled. "Ahh, see! I was right!"

Three frowned at him. "I'm sorry?"

"Do you really think he would leave all of that behind for you for no reason?" Boruto leaned back in his seat. "Nah. He gave you that stuff because he loved you and wanted you to be happy."

"Was I happy, though?" Three asked.

Boruto raised an eyebrow at her. "I dunno. Were you?"

"I guess," Three said, smiling, "I guess I was."

"Where the hell is he," Naruto muttered, pacing. "Of all the days… of all the times…"

"Naruto," Minato said, raising his arm gently, "you should sit down. You're wearing a hole in the floor."

"He'll be back soon," Jiraiya said, yawning. He kicked his feet up onto the tabletop and threaded his fingers together behind his head. "In the meantime, I'm going to take a nap. It's getting late."

"Which is why I'm worried." Naruto sighed. "I'm going to speak with Hoshu and ask him to reconsider. I don't want to be a burden, but I also don't want to leave when Boruto isn't around."

"He's what?"

Naruto blinked, looked at Hoshu, who was standing in the doorway to the living area with his arms threaded through his sleeves.

"He ran off," Naruto said, running his hand through his hair. "Back when he was talking to you."

"Hmph," Hoshu said. He stepped through the room, made his way to the kitchen. "Would you care for some tea?" He asked, pulling a weathered kettle down from the rack.

"Please," Minato said. He folded his book, stacked it atop the rest, and watched Hoshu move about like a stilted ballroom dancer. "Hoshu, would you mind telling us what's wrong?"

The monk froze for a moment, then continued shuffling about. "I'm not sure there's anything to tell. Nothing is wrong. At least, nothing significant."

Naruto blinked. "Really?"

Hoshu sighed, and leaned his hip against the countertop. "I admit that I was… hasty to jump to conclusions earlier. I was rude, and I apologize." He worried the edge of his lip with his teeth, stared at the floor for a moment.

His eyes met Naruto's, then Minato's, then Jiraiya's. "This is nothing out of the ordinary. Three is a child, for certain, so this is more difficult for her than the others, but…"

"The others?" Naruto asked.

"The other Ones," Hoshu answered. "The Ones that came before the man who passed this morning." He frowned. "This is a rite of passage for Ones-to-be. Each has a moment of denial, and then a moment of acceptance. It may not be written tradition, but it is tradition nonetheless."

"You're saying," Minato started, "that Three running off was expected?"

"Oh, of course," Hoshu nodded. "Although I will admit that your young one following her was unexpected."

"Is it bad that he went with her?" Naruto asked. He felt a bubble of concern rise in his gut.

"No," Hoshu smiled. "Three is more fiery and independent. She will take time to come to a decision, and I do fear it will be too much. The village will suffer for it greatly."

"And Boruto?"

The front steps struggled under the weight of heavy footsteps, and the ninja turned in unison to the doorway with mild intrigue.

"She's made up her mind," Boruto panted, leaning a hand across the doorframe, bent over his knees. "She's… made up her mind."

Hoshu's eyes widened. "Three?"

Boruto nodded. He looked up, met Hoshu's stare with his own. "She's waiting for you now. On top of the mountain."