Crimson
Karin is far more than just an Uzumaki.
Yes, she does have the red hair, and the chakra, and the chains, and a temper that flares like wildfire when angered. Reducing her to that one label, however, is widely considered a risky move.
Not just because of her mean fists, although they are reason enough.
She's a martial artist with the grace of a dancer and the impact of a sledgehammer. A scientist, capable of dissecting the enigmas of chakra down to their elemental truths. A strategist whose self-called 'lucky guesses' stopped Nagato from obtaining what he wanted, just a few years ago. A healer whose touch can mend wounds that are both seen and unseen; mind and body alike.
Her past is a ghost, not a shackle. It doesn't hold her back — it propels her forward, fueled by a warning written in her mother's blood.
Karin's a bundle of paradoxes — quick to anger, yet endlessly compassionate; patient, but brimming with fervor. She's a mirror to her wife in that way, and her loyalty is as steadfast as the earth itself.
Her people, the few who've cracked her code, wouldn't dream of changing a thing.
The Emperor's Promise
"People of Earth, I come before you as your Emperor, Uzumaki Naruto. We stand at a critical crossroads that will define our destiny. In a mere two weeks, our world faces obliteration, a fate decreed by the kami of storms. Do not surrender to despair. Now is the time for decisive action.
"I present to you the Celestial Ring — a thriving constellation of cities, a true world. Though the journey will not be easy, it offers an unparalleled opportunity to transform our future and flourish. In the Celestial Ring, we will find sanctuary from the wrath of the kami. There, we will build a society embracing equity, sustainability and prosperity. We will do more than survive — we will thrive, free from the kami's influence, free from the old world's trappings.
"I recognize this path may not appeal to all.
"For those who seek an alternative, I offer the chance to traverse realities to parallel universes. There you will find a new beginning, in more familiar worlds. Along with their advantages and drawbacks, including the potential risks posed by the kami. To aid your transition, a generous gift of gold will ensure lifelong comfort.
"And for those who wish to stay behind, down on Earth, your choice will be respected. Know, however, that it is certain death.
"Regardless of where you choose, you have our full support. Let there be no doubt: the Celestial Ring promises not just survival, but lives overflowing with opportunity, safe from threats of the past.
"For too long we have lived under the whims of forces beyond our control. No longer.
"The choice is yours to make."
The Ark
"Decent speech, my Lord, well done. Well done, indeed."
"Fuck off, Toru."
"It wasn't entirely sarcastic."
"I can't tell anymore." Naruto said, and turned to the research team. "Begin drafting plans for the Ark, too, please. Once we're done with the Seed… that's the next big thing."
"…An Ark?" Toru asked, frowning. "For the animals, right?"
"…"
"Bro. To rescue the animals, right?"
THE JOURNEY BEYOND II
Konoha drifted around in space.
Uzumaki Naruto had made one thing clear:
Islands, plains and mountain would be shaped to form the new land. All of it built by his and his allies' hand, and so would the seas.
The floating cities would join the Celestial Ring, a man-made habitat in space, forming the Greater Celestial Ring.
This structure was supposedly set to become a true celestial utopia. And it apparently got its name from the massive, white marble-like ring encircling the vast lands in the center.
Sarutobi Biwako, personally, thought it was because Naruto still had no flair for naming things.
And… creating a world anew…? Seas…? Skies…? Was this truly possible, or was he just doing damage control…?
Naruto was powerful beyond belief, certainly, and he was not a fool. But this…?
Biwako and the rest of the Sarutobi clan were staring at the pitch black skies, in which only stars broke the darkness.
"…I expected Kushina's son to be trouble, of course." Biwako said, shaking her head. "But this…" She sighed. "Perhaps it's on us. The way Hiruzen and I raised him."
"Naruto said you barely even raised him at all." Konohamaru interjected. Asuma, on the other hand, was very carefully avoiding this conversation.
"…And Naruto always was a little ingrate." Biwako frowned.
"Come on, mother. It... beats dying horribly." Asuma smiled hesitantly. "I'm sure it's not going to be all that bad."
"Floating in the void of space?" She countered.
"That's what we've always been doing, technically." Konohamaru grinned, in a way that reminded her of the most troublesome Sarutobi to ever grace the clan. "How is this any different?"
"…I've had it with little smart-asses." Biwako muttered.
Konohamaru rolled his eyes. "It's going to be fine, grandma, we have Naruto, Itachi-sama and Sasuke at the helm. Bro knows what he's doing."
"He never did." Biwako countered. "If anything, it was closer to spirited improvisation."
Hotaru sighed.
His gaze fell upon the small village they were currently passing through. Next to him, Tayuya was still staring at the sky.
"Space…?" She muttered. "Is that fucker for real?"
Hotaru shrugged. "…Probably. Beats dying. We should have stayed in the cities, really."
She raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you care about the big man's announcements?"
"About two days ago?" He answered, dryly.
Tayuya laughed. "…Fair enough."
She resumed staring at the sky, her gaze fixed on the vast, open expanse.
"Do you think…?" She trailed off.
Hotaru nodded, slipping a casual hand around her shoulders, which she didn't throw off, surprisingly.
"I'm sure they're going to need decent musicians, out there." He said. "I know two."
"Oh?" She asked wryly. "Who's the second one going to be?"
"Don't be so hard on yourself." Hotaru said with a wise nod. "You've improved a lot."
She grinned. "Go fuck yourself, newbie."
He nodded sagely. "I need to go to space for that."
Roku barked orders.
He was a decorated war veteran, and a leader, of course, but this was a battle of a different kind.
Leading people not into war, but into survival… tended to be.
He squinted into the blinding sunrise, the wind brushing his hair around his scarred face.
Roku's gaze shifted toward the pillar that glided down toward Earth — each one was supposed to help them warp the people from here up to space. They hummed with chakra in the early morning air.
It was kind of soothing, an alien sort of lullaby to Roku, and perhaps to the bustling crowds gathering, as well. There was fear in their eyes, but determination, too. Roku called it survival instinct.
He turned to his subordinates, all younger and full of nerves — to him, at least. Technically, they were confirmed shinobi.
"Remember." He said, his voice strong and steady, "This is not a drill. This is not an operation. This is our duty. The duty to save humanity. Each and every one of them is our responsibility. At least until they refuse."
"Man, I know this." Gama muttered. Roku's good eye tightened and Gama continued hastily. "…Got it, I mean."
Gama resumed guiding the children away. One of them tried to throw a rock at the back of his head, too.
Around him, Roku saw men and women straighten their backs. He nodded, feeling a pang of pride for these other-worlders.
And speaking of other worlds, he was certain Konohamaru and Neji could hold the fort back home.
"All right, let's move." Roku ordered, striding towards the first group of civilians huddled together.
He wore no armor, held no weapon. This time, his words were his command, his leadership his shield.
…
With a firm yet gentle hand, Kage guided an old woman towards the nearest pillar.
Her hands were shaking, her eyes brimming with tears. Kage smiled reassuringly at her.
"Don't worry, ma'am. We've got the best ninja—… engineers working on these ships. It's going to be okay." He said. "It's all going to be okay."
The woman nodded, tears trickling down her cheeks. "Thank you, young man." She whispered, shuffling forward.
This went on for hours.
Kage (and a thousand clones) and Indruto (one out of a thousand clones, really) helped children find their parents, reassured frightened families, and coordinated with his team to ensure a smooth evacuation process.
Jinsuke was doing the same, nearby, if somewhat awkwardly.
Kage's presence, his words, were a balm to the nervous crowds. According to Indruto, at least. So he was putting his charisma to good use.
With every person Kage helped, he saw the tentative hope in their eyes.
They were scared, yes, but they also trusted them, it seemed. Even Indruto — somehow. The people trusted his strength, his leadership. And to Kage, that trust, that faith, had always been the greatest honor bestowed upon one.
The pillar warped another large group of people.
There were a few people who were were stubborn about not leaving, and Kage owed it to them to try his best at convincing them, at the very least.
That's what Indruto thought, too. Probably. It was hard to tell, with that guy, sometimes.
He had sent Toru to Kage and Jinsuke's world, in any case. To warp things away in case of kami trouble and stuff.
Considering what had happened to the last kami who had tried to invade, Kage had the feeling it would be fine. But you never knew, with these things.
…
"Toru, I'm going to need you to go and watch over Kage's world for a little while." Naruto said. "The other worlds that might be targeted are covered already."
Toru raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you go yourself?"
Naruto raised an eyebrow in answer, too. "Me?"
"Well, yeah." Toru shrugged. "We're going to have to actually talk to people down on Earth, and we both know you're not the most sensible of speakers."
Naruto frowned. "What does it have to do with me improvising my speeches?"
"A lot."
A pause.
Naruto closed his eyes, and when he opened them, there was a weight to his words. "There's a reason I'm sending you there, Toru."
"Oh yeah?" Toru snarked. "Because you're not even paying anyone anymore, you mean?"
Naruto dropped a hand upon his shoulder. "It's not just because you're the second most powerful man of the land." He waited for a beat. "No. I'm sending you there because you're the best of us." He nodded. "And I trust you entirely."
There was only silence.
"…Man, was this supposed to work?" Toru shook his head in disbelief. "I'm not eighteen and insecure anymore. Do you know just how many times Sakura played that trick on me…?"
"It was worth a try." Naruto sighed.
"No, not really." Toru said. "Whatever. I suppose I'd make a better guardian than you would, anyway. I'll go."
Naruto nodded.
"See? It's working after all."
"Hardly." Toru shook his head. "I'm doing it for them — You'd have sent Anko."
…
"…Ah, before I go." Toru began.
"I will pay Mikoto a visit to explain, yes." Naruto nodded.
"…Don't feel the need."
"What's you request, then?"
"…What are we supposed to with that?" Toru asked.
He was pointing at the humanoid bird made out of sheer fire, who was patiently waiting nearby.
The one that was a little kami.
Naruto stared, and he had a few suggestions. That was the trouble with people with savior complexes.
He sighed again. "I'm not sure either."
"Who brought it…?" Toru asked.
"Take a guess." Naruto grumbled, glancing at Kage. "Who else would bring a kami around…?"
Kage, who had heard them, somehow managed to look offended. "Leave Tomoshishi out of that. Just because he held us back while you guys fought off that big one—"
"Agehachō, yes." Naruto said, dryly. "Perhaps you remember. The one who had planned to eat half the world's population just for kicks."
"…Yeah, that's the one." Kage nodded slowly. "Does it matter? I talked to him. Tomoshishi promised not to do anything like it again."
The bird screeched in approval.
Naruto felt his headache redouble.
"He just said he's even going to fight with us if there's trouble." Kage smiled. "See?"
"…Look, just because I trust in your powers of brainwashing doesn't mean that this is a good idea." Naruto said.
Kage frowned at the slight — brainwashing was not something he did. "You have worse ideas each day. Besides, you said he was a minor kami, it's not like we're inviting any of the big ones in or anything like that…"
Naruto continued to stare at him.
The pressure in the room rose. A teacup shattered somewhere.
Chakra rose.
The pressure continued to rise, and the people outside the room were starting to wince.
Toru stared at his fingernails and waited.
A small grin broke through Naruto's façade. What else could he have expected from his other-self, really?
"Whatever." Naruto said, waving his hand. "You deal with it." And he would keep an eye on it, too.
"Him. Tomoshishi's a him." Kage corrected. "Believe it."
The little kami screeched. In approval, likely.
…
"Also, once the two weeks are over — or if we decide on an earlier date — make sure you're ready to leave." Naruto added.
Toru squinted. "…Are we going on a trip…?"
"…I suppose you can see it that way." Naruto smiled mirthlessly and Toru knew the expression.
"…Great."
…
Toru emerged through a kaleidoscope of intense and vivid hues.
Brilliant crimsons danced alongside deep purples, along with streaks of gold and splashes of turquoise. Electric blues twirled with burning oranges, in a display of chromatic vibrancy.
Emerald greens sparkled, while sun-kissed yellows created radiant halos around the edges of the entrance. Magenta tendrils curled and spiraled outward, occasionally touched by the cool, lunar glow of silvery streaks.
Every shade seemed more vibrant than was naturally possible; each left a radiant smear in the air. Not unlike a painter passionately dragging a brush across a canvas in a fevered state of creation.
When Toru stepped through, the saturated colors clung to him briefly, like the last notes of a beautiful song.
It looked sick, he knew.
Just like the Hokage's hat looked, sitting atop his head — his conflicted feelings for Konoha aside, but Danzō was dead, so there was that. Toru sat in the Hokage's seat, leaning back.
"Welcome back, Sakura-sama—" Kage's assistant greeted him, before she realized who was wearing the hat exactly — and it was not the interim Hokage.
"At ease…" Toru hesitated, lifting the rim of the hat away from his face, parting the shadows that had undoubtedly looked properly mysterious. Was it Miwa…? Mika? Mina…? "…Soldier. I'm not your Hokage, obviously."
"…I do see that." The woman answered. "But both Sakura-sama and Hokage-sama warned us that you would help oversee a… transition of some sorts?"
Toru leaned in, folding his hands in front of his face dramatically — in true Uchiha fashion. "I suppose I will."
Until the latest security measures were set up in this world as well.
The woman nodded. "Is there anything I could do to help you…?"
"No—" Toru began, and cut himself off.
…There was something.
"Send Hatake Kakashi in here." He grinned. "I could use some company."
…
Kage nodded to himself.
Things were likely fine back home.
…
Many of Naruto's clones took care of rerouting the waygates, both the ones leading to the relays in the skies, the relays themselves, and the gates aboard the Ring itself.
They hated every second of the tedious work.
In the stillness of the Ring, Hanabi found a small corner to herself.
Her legs crossed in midair as she floated weightlessly.
Her eyes were shut tight, a deep concentration etched across her face.
She took a deep breath and opened them. Her Byakugan activated, the veins around her eyes bulging, her lavender irises turning a piercing pale white.
Then the veins receded, and her eyes turned strikingly blue.
Only then did she start to weave her chakra, drawing it complex formations, shaping it into a powerful seer's technique.
Space around Hanabi started to shimmer, and time seemed to halt.
Images began to form in her mind's eye, a multitude of realities spreading before her like a grand tapestry. It was a dizzying spectacle, the sheer expanse of time and space unfathomable.
Among the endless strands of fate, Hanabi sought for one particular thread — a path to Sakura. Or a way into that realm.
She sifted through the countless possibilities once more, her Byakugan piercing through the fabric of time and space itself..
In her search, Hanabi saw realities she had no use for, and worlds they had no way of helping right away either.
There was an infinity of them out there, more than they could ever help with. She remained undeterred, her will unwavering.
Each vision, no matter how harsh, brought her a step closer to her goal.
And…
Nothing.
Hanabi gasped, her eyes snapping open. She felt her heart pounding in her chest, her breaths coming out in ragged huffs. And the same migraine again.
Hanabi floated back to her feet, rubbing her temples.
She would try again tomorrow. They would bring Sakura back, no matter what it took.
After all, time and space had never been barriers for a determined enough kunoichi.
Ino's office was buzzing with activity.
Papers were strewn across the table, charts and graphs and holographic projections taking up every inch of the wall, and some of the room too.
Voices rose and fell in intense discussion.
At the head of the room, Ino stood with her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed in thought. Around her, her team of mind experts - psychologists, therapists, and neuroscientists, most of them - were immersed in their task.
"—Well yes, that is because we are navigating a sea change." Ino nodded, tapping a finger against a scroll filled with notes. "It is our responsibility to equip people with the mental and emotional strength to weather this storm."
There were quiet nods, through the room.
"Our best forecast is…" She paused, sighing. "Complicated. A rollercoaster of emotions, at best. Things like clear communication alone are not going to cut it."
Hiroshi, cognitive psychologist, was quick to reason, as always. "I agree that clear communication alone isn't enough, but… it's a start." He said. "Knowledge gives people a semblance of control. If they understand the landscape, they can prepare. That's agency."
Keiko, who was a trauma therapist, chimed in. "Still. Information without support can be overwhelming—"
"Even then." Another man cut in — that was Kenji. Perhaps he disagreed with her on principle.
Ino nodded anyway. "That's why we need a multi-faceted approach. We're not just calming nerves; we're trying to help people adapt to a world that's fundamentally different."
Keiko sighed. "…Very well. I feel like we're running in circles — We're working on counseling services, peer networks, and self-help materials, as of now. Hopefully that can help some."
Ino nodded briefly. "Good."
Hiroshi reclined. "A world that's fundamentally different is one thing." He said, tapping his finger against the table. "But we are dealing with one that's still in flux."
"Yes." Ino conceded. "That's it exactly."
She then sighed. "And let's not forget that our dear leader, my husband… is at the center of all this." She laughed mirthlessly. "Naruto's decision, albeit necessary, is likely to… stir the pot. As always."
That was a bit of an understatement, and a few people cracked hesitant smiles, breaking the tension, which was what she had hoped for.
"There's bound to be resentment." Sora, who was a social psychologist, nodded, and prevented his glasses from falling down his nose. "All this is a difficult nut to crack. It could foster a hostile environment."
"Easily." Ino murmured in agreement. "Luckily, we are, in essence, a benevolent tyranny."
No one dared to laugh, apparently. "Many people will feel their freedom was… taken away by a decision they had no say in. More than before, that is."
Miho offered a suggestion. "Could we create platforms for public expression? If we can't really involve them in decision-making, that is."
A few quiet chuckles echoed in the room, acknowledging the irony. Everyone knew that the Emperor would have the final word.
Keiko chimed in. "We could… focus on reframing perspectives."
Kenji barked a short laugh. "There's a limit to the amount of mental gymnastics people can do."
Keiko glared at him, and Miho had to ask what she meant before she blew up at him.
"…To show them this decision, however harsh… was taken with the greater good in mind." Keiko said. "For survival."
Ino grumbled in response. "The term 'greater good' needs careful handling." Very careful, even. "It has been misused too often for the worst reasons."
Kenji raised an eyebrow. "…Unlike now, I suppose."
Ino sighed. "I don't want to become another misguided tyrant, if that's what you're implying."
He met her gaze, searching her eyes. "It's not you I'm worried about."
"Neither does my husband."
"Are you sure of that?"
Ino locked eyes with him, her eyes resolute. She sensed that Kenji was voicing a concern others in the room might share… but hadn't expressed. Finally, he looked away.
"I am." She affirmed.
Orochimaru and Karin sat across from each other at a table littered with blueprints and diagrams.
Kage's Orochimaru and Hebi were here as well, silently reviewing them.
There was that man Naruto had named the "Nine-Tails 2.0 Naruto", who was mostly silent, and had previously been working with the team in charge of meteor-catching.
And the one named Aruni, who mostly intervened to tell them whenever they were wrong. Which was so frequent that it made Karin wonder if he did so with the intention to help them or to mock them. Perhaps it was both.
The glow of a holographic display reflected in their eyes, casting a soft blue hue on their focused faces.
"First off, we'll need to overhaul the energy infrastructure." Orochimaru said, gesturing to a diagram of the current energy layout of the Celestial Rings.
Karin nodded. "That's fair. Our existing systems weren't built to handle the load this project will generate."
"Exactly. We'll need to scale up — significantly." Orochimaru nodded. "Solar energy is a viable option, in addition to plasma. The Rings' artificial atmosphere can support wind farms, and we can install sunlight catchers on the external surface."
Hebi chimed in. "It might require a complete redesign of the Rings' outer layer."
"We'll have to see about their placement, yes. Additionally, we'll need to upgrade the data management systems." Orochimaru continued, scrolling through a list. "We'll also need to upgrade our data management systems. The new technologies will generate a massive amount of data, and again, our current system was tailored mainly for Umi."
"Your schematics are, unquestionably, of a lesser order." Aruni nodded. "But I suppose they might suffice, as a rudimentary beginning. Similar to your own primitive ancestors, playing around with rocks in mud."
"Thank you." Orochimaru said dryly.
"You are most welcome." Aruni nodded his venerable head.
Karin stifled a chuckle.
The older-looking Orochimaru shifted the conversation. "An AI-driven system might still be our best bet for data management. An organic life form, perhaps…? That is well beyond reach." He said. "The decentralized, AI-driven power grids you've been studying could offer valuable insights."
"That's precisely why we've been studying them." Orochimaru confirmed.
"Why you have stolen them." Aruni said. "From other mon-keigh, nonetheless."
Orochimaru shrugged. "What does it matter?"
"It doesn't, in truth."
"Time to start, then." Karin finally said.
"There are people complaining about the apocalypse, you know." Yugito said easily, crossing her arms over her chest.
Naruto — or a clone, perhaps — looked over at her, an easy smile playing at his lips despite her words. "That's nothing new."
"Some think you're a devil, reborn in flesh."
"I expected as much, yes."
"I hardly see how they are wrong." Matatabi said, rolling the small ball toward Yūshirō, who tumbled backward and fell on his butt, laughing. "It seems like you have a lot on your plate… Emperor."
"Don't be nasty, Matatabi." Naruto retorted, amusement glinting in his eyes. The Bijū bared her fangs at him, and eight more spectral tails seemed to float behind her. No one took Matatabi seriously.
"—Some said this was your intention, all along." Yugito continued.
Naruto's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Bringing people to space…?" He asked, frowning. "That's ridiculous, I had a perfectly working tyranny in place — This is just more work for me."
Yugito merely shrugged, an almost exasperated expression on her face. "Who knows?" She shook her head. "It was reported to me, that's it. Also, I believe someone… leaked the memory of your fight with the kami."
"Does this 'someone' happen to look like an Uchiha with even less common sense than most, by any chance?" Naruto asked dryly.
Yugito suppressed a laugh. "I do not know. Perhaps. Or perhaps some of the Orochimaru wanted to keep the people in line." She paused. "…Both fights were leaked, actually."
Naruto sighed. "Great. How terrified are the people…?"
Yugito gave him a wry look, her eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and slight concern. He had been remote enough to most, before.
"Terrified enough to comply with the 'living god', apparently. I'm fairly sure it takes less than that to get most cults started."
"Great." He muttered. Then, a playful grin tugged at his lips. "So, want to marry a fellow godling and ensure our child doesn't stay a little bastard forever?"
Yugito shot him an unimpressed glare. "No."
Uchiha Madara's eyes were fixed on Tsunade.
And so were Izuna's. She stood her ground, and her eyes locked onto theirs fearlessly.
"He told me you were here." Madara hissed. "I could hardly believe it — How could I, when you are the one who killed our father?!"
Madara's anger was piercing, and Izuna bore into her a wrath that could burn through steel.
The accusation hung heavy in the air, a palpable wave of animosity emanating from Madara.
Tsunade did not flinch. She stared back at him, her eyes hard.
"Your father was a man of war." Tsunade retorted evenly. "He made his choices and met his fate accordingly."
"You have no right—" Izuna began, seething with rage.
Tsunade cut him off. "I have every right!" She snapped back, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I was there. I saw the destruction, the pain he caused. I did what I had to."
There was electricity to the air, a charge sparked by the confrontation. Or perhaps it was Madara's chakra, which had always leaned toward Lightning easier than Fire.
Madara's eyes darkened, his Sharingan pulsing ominously. "So you dare to justify your actions?" He snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "You dare to stand here, claiming righteousness for the blood on your hands?"
"Same way we all do, Uchiha." She countered, her voice ice-cold.
Izuna, feeling the heat of their exchange, chimed in with a low growl. "Do not compare us. Our father was not a monster."
"Neither were the people he slaughtered, then!" Tsunade retorted.
Her eyes bore into Izuna's, asserting the truth he was unwilling to acknowledge.
"You would paint yourself as an ally of justice, Tsunade." Madara hissed. "But you're nothing more than a killer hiding behind empty ideals."
"And you're a hypocrite hiding behind vengeance." Tsunade shot back, her eyes blazing with defiance. "More of the same."
Izuna's eyes widened. But he held himself back, because they were in the medical bay, which was currently undergoing construction.
"We want the same thing." Tsunade said. "And we have peace here. Are you going to break it, over this grudge? If so, I understand. Let us go out, and I'll let you have your best shot at me."
Madara's jaw tightened, his gaze hardening. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.
The silence stretched between them, taut and heavy, until finally, Tsunade broke it.
"Or don't. This conversation isn't leading anywhere." She stated, her voice echoing in the half-finished medical bay. "We all have blood on our hands. Arguing about it won't change the past."
Without waiting for a response, Tsunade turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the Uchiha brothers standing in the bright light of the bay.
"…How did he die?" Izuna asked, his voice taut with tension. "Did he die on the battlefield, at the very least?"
Madara reached out, as if to curb his brother's curiosity. "Izuna—"
Tsunade halted in her steps, a ghost of a sigh passing her lips as she turned to look over her shoulder at Izuna. Her stern features softened, hinting at slight regret.
"Your brother is right, Uchiha Izuna." She said. "You might find it better not to know."
"A dishonorable death, then." Izuna spat out, his jaw set.
A flicker of distaste crossed Tsunade's face. "Well… You've asked for it." She shrugged dismissively. "…He died on the battlefield, yes. But he was merely collateral."
The reaction was immediate. "You dare—"
"It wasn't intentional." She interjected, her tone flat but her words sharp. "He tried to stab me in the back, and I reacted. I intended to incapacitate him, to use him as leverage. I underestimated my own strength and… punched right through him."
Silence hung in the air.
"…Punched right through him?" Izuna repeated, in complete disbelief.
"Right through him." Tsunade confirmed.
Izuna's mouth hung open, his mind grappling with the revelation.
Madara's hand came up to rest on Izuna's shoulder, and his grip was firm. It was the only thing keeping Izuna grounded, preventing him from lunging at Tsunade, or something equally bad for them.
For a short instant, Tsunade looked sorry for them. And then, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone.
Tsunade turned her back to them, and walked away.
Silence stretched behind her.
"Punched right through him…" Izuna muttered to himself.
…
Tsunade barely reached the door when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
She paused, turning to face Hashirama.
"Tsunade." He started, his tone gentle. As always.
"What, Grand—… Hashirama?" She asked, crossing her arms defensively.
Hashirama sighed, running a hand through his hair as he chose his words carefully. "You didn't have to be so blunt with them. He was their father."
"I was answering a direct question." Tsunade replied tersely, her gaze hardening. "Would you prefer I lied?"
Hashirama paused, a weary expression crossing his face. "No." He admitted. "But a little compassion wouldn't hurt, Tsunade."
Tsunade sighed. "…I suppose you're right."
Then again, Tobirama was alone back home, and that one could also use a little reminder, so who was Hashirama to say…?
Hashirama's shoulders relaxed.
"…Well." He began. "Let's go back to our work, then. There are plenty of newcomers already, so…"
"Are you adjusting well to your newfound divinity?" Yoisen's voice cut through the air, interrupting Naruto's focus on a real-time report.
Naruto looked up. "Is that what we're calling it now? Divinity?"
Ah. She had eaten a piece of the Fruit, apparently.
Yoisen nodded, her eyes questioning.
Naruto gave a nonchalant shrug. "I don't believe it needed much adjusting on my part. It came with a level of… understanding."
Curiosity piqued, Yoisen sat down close by. "Do go on."
"There's not that much to say about it." He said. "If anything, it is more limited than I thought it would be."
"How so…?"
"It's not as infinite as one might think; the power drains quickly and takes its sweet time replenishing." He shook his head. "Well, it's probably not that long for a kami, but still…"
A pause hung heavily between them.
"…What about you? How are you handling your return to life?" Naruto asked.
"…You readjusted pretty well yourself, did you not?" She asked in return.
He acknowledged with a nod. "I never had to go through that place."
For a moment, Yoisen's eyes seemed inscrutable. "Death is… a strange experience." She finally said, her voice tinged with contemplation. "But the sensation of Naraka is already fading."
She paused, her gaze distant as if trying to catch a fleeting dream.
"Returning from it changes your perspective. It is like walking into a room you've always known, but finding the furniture rearranged."
"Yoisen." Naruto's voice carried a note of concern.
Meeting his eyes, she offered a faint smile. "I am well, Naruto."
"If there's any way I can help—"
Yoisen gently shook her head. "I am fine. Please tell me more about your experience."
She took to this sort of inquiry about as well as she took to gratitude — she sidestepped it, mostly.
Scratching his head, Naruto admitted: "I'm not sure there's that much to say about it — we're still figuring it out."
Yoisen's grin grew wry. "There is a silver lining to all this."
"And what would that be?"
She leaned in, her eyes twinkling. "I believe the younger generation would say your days of cosplaying a mere mortal are over."
He laughed.
…
"…Ah." A shadow crossed his features, as they talked. "Perhaps there's something else."
Yoisen leaned forward, her eyes keen. "Go on."
"I don't think the Oath binds me — or the others. Because we're not kami, I suppose."
Yoisen's eyes flickered with interest. "That sounds like favorable news."
"Maybe." Naruto admitted, his voice laced with doubt. "But it raises questions about our standing with the kami. As far as I understand, only Susanoo-Arashi, the Enforcer, has the authority to 'kill' another kami."
"You find that worrisome?" Yoisen inquired, narrowing her gaze for precision. "Because this exclusion might go both ways?"
"…No, not really." He admitted. "It shouldn't. But… I've identified a few other kami."
Yoisen's interest piqued further. "And what did you discover?"
Naruto reclined, a wry smile twisting his lips. He did not seem particularly amused.
"Turns out Ryū and Tengu were never kami to begin with — or if they were, hardly worthy of notice. I think Orochimaru and I botched the runes." He confessed, rubbing his face in mild exasperation.
Yoisen paused, letting the new information sink in. "So, you're suggesting…"
Naruto laughed, quite dryly.
"…That I misplaced my faith in fictional, made-up runes…? Yes." His voice was tinged with a blend of annoyance and chagrin. "Exactly that. It's a wonder these two did anything at all."
Yoisen rubbed her temples.
"…I will spare you yet another reminder not to experiment in such ways." She said. "Only because I would hope to believe you finally grasped the gravity of it by now."
"Appreciate the faith." Naruto replied, grinning.
"…Did you grasp it?"
He shrugged. "We're conversing in a man-made kami domain, aren't we? Conventional wisdom doesn't exactly hold."
Yoisen exhaled deeply, and it spoke volumes. "You relish in making me sigh, don't you?"
Finally. Naruto's grin widened. "Is it so bad that I find your honesty refreshing?"
"Out with it, then." She said, her posture softening. "…What is your latest dangerous idea…?"
Naruto's face turned solemn. "Before — and particularly after — our last foray into Naraka, I've been reevaluating the concept of eternal damnation. Until we sort that out permanently, I guess I have a solution for the meantime."
Yoisen winced slightly. She crossed her arms over her chest, observed him with wary interest. "What do you mean…?"
"The kami occasionally claim souls for purposes known only to them, Susanoo included." He said.
Yoisen nodded slowly.
"I propose we take a leaf out of the kami's book. We can construct a barrier of our own."
He paused, watching Yoisen for any signs of reaction. She glanced at the invisible barriers around Umi, around the Ring itself.
"A barrier to do what exactly?" She asked.
"You know what I mean." Naruto said, locking eyes with her. He smiled.
Yoisen did know.
"To retain the departed souls within our own realm." He said.
"…In order to give the deceased the option to stay, rather than crossing over, then. Are you certain you want to tread this path?"
"Yes." Naruto affirmed. "Once it's in place, anyone who dies in this realm will have the option to stay. If that's what they want."
…
Yoisen didn't answer right away.
"You're still suggesting intervening in the natural cycle of life and death." She said. "What about the guardians of that cycle?"
Naruto caught her hesitation. "You mean Enma? I don't see how this would be his concern. If anything, I'm easing his workload."
Ah. Perhaps she had caught the edge in his voice. He reclined a little, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "He did tell me to take care of my own souls. He'd call it… malicious compliance, I suppose."
"I believe he would have much more to say."
"Maybe."
"…It's audacious." Yoisen remarked, staring at him. "And ambitious, too."
Naruto nodded. "Perhaps."
"How would we implement this?" She asked. "Where would the souls even go…? You are not a true kami, in this sense."
"As soon as possible, we'll craft an artifact — a 'Soul Jar' — and then a few redundancies, all interlinked. These jars will act as sanctuaries for souls that opt for a temporary stay, preserving them in a form of spiritual hibernation."
Yoisen's eyes narrowed, absorbing the full scope of his plan.
"With the Rinnegan's unique capabilities." Naruto continued. "We could then use these preserved souls to reconstitute their original bodies, effectively resurrecting them."
Yoisen remained silent for a moment.
"…You have been thinking about this for a little while, have you not…?" Yoisen asked.
He smiled faintly. "Ever since I died — or before that, maybe. Toru and Ino have been thinking on it too."
Yoisen nodded, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "It is certainly… an intriguing concept."
"That's also how you describe a terrible idea."
"No, not this time." She said, smiling slightly.
Naruto met her gaze, his expression serious.
"It is ambitious. But it's a choice I'm offering people, not a mandate. The soul must be willing. I won't allow this power to be abused."
She nodded. "And if Enma takes issue with this?"
Naruto shrugged. "Then I'll take the issue to him directly, or course."
…
The inky sky above was a peculiar sight, if it could even be called a sky.
There were no stars, only an endless void broken by swirling galaxies in the distance.
Beneath it, a serene garden unfurled, and trees stood tall and majestic, all of them grown by Sasuke, Hashirama, and people Naruto hadn't even seen in person for a while.
Yoisen had invited him out for fresh air, and he'd accepted, of course.
A carpet of lush, velvety grass stretched out, dotted with vibrant blooms that mirrored the constellations above.
Their sweet perfume wafted through the air, melding with the aroma of the moist earth to create a scent as intoxicating as the garden's ethereal beauty.
At the garden's heart sat inviting benches, as if carved from fallen stars. It was a tranquil place to rest amid the cosmic show unfolding above. A sanctuary of calm seclusion amongst the stars.
The rustle of leaves, the fragrance of blossoms, and the gentle hum of distant galaxies.
Yoisen leaned back against a sturdy tree, a soft smile playing on her lips. Naruto mirrored her posture, sitting beside her under the shade of the tree.
Countless duties called; some he couldn't delegate, even to his Shadows. Still, he savored this moment of peace.
"I should get going." Naruto paused before adding. "I know you've got your own mountain of tasks waiting for you."
Yoisen nodded. "Since you're handling the evacuation, I'll focus on preserving our history. It's a legacy for the world, after all." She paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face before she continued. "Once that is done… Well, we will certainly have our hands full with building anew."
"Absolutely." Naruto agreed.
Yoisen hesitated. "Given the situation, it might sound terrible, but—"
"I get it. Part of me is also looking forward to the challenge." Naruto admitted.
A soft smile graced Yoisen's lips, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "As am I, Naruto."
For a moment, they shared a comfortable silence, gazing at the stars twinkling above the garden's trees.
Shisui, crouched to meet the eyes of his young daughter, his dark eyes bright with emotion.
His hands playfully ruffled her dark hair, a gesture so familiar yet long missed, and it made her giggle with delight.
"You've grown so much, Yui." He said, a soft laugh escaping his lips. "You're almost as tall as your mother now!"
Yui didn't understand any of this, of course — she was only a few months old. The warmth in his voice was enough for her.
Anko, standing at a little distance, couldn't help but smile at the sight of her little family.
Anko, standing a few steps away, watched the tender scene unfold with a smile. "Don't lay it on too thick, Shisui." She teased. "Besides, poor thing's got your genes. I've seen those old family photos — you were quite the chubby baby."
Shisui chuckled. "Is that so?"
Yui, cradled in Shisui's arms, looked up at her parents, her tiny brows knitting together in a puzzled expression.
Anko approached, her eyes softening even more as she saw Shisui holding their daughter. She gently brushed a few stray strands of hair from Yui's face, her smile deepening.
"Well." She said, tenderly. "There are worse people she could take after."
Kaguya stood at the edge of a still, midnight pool, under the inky surface of the endless cosmos above.
Here, no breeze stirred the trees grown by Hagoromo's descendant, who worked tirelessly.
Well, both of them did, in truth.
The silence of the place was only disturbed by the soft sound of footsteps.
"It's an oddity of a place, isn't it…?" Orochimaru asked.
"It is." Kaguya agreed, her voice a soft murmur in the tranquil ambiance.
"It won't stay in this state of surreal quiet forever." Orochimaru said. "We will craft atmospheres like Earth and the untrained eye will see no difference between sky and void."
Then he sighed. "Though Naruto has expressed… an affinity for this vast void. So we will leave segments raw, bathed in this silence, this night sky. The Outer Ring, for instance, and an expanse he insists on christening the Starwalk. A promenade beneath the cosmos — and a terrible name, as is customary for him."
Kaguya's eyes softened a bit. "You care for him, do you not?" She saw no other reason for him to put in so much effort.
Orochimaru inclined his head. "The same way a distant parent feels for their wayward relative, I suppose."
They stayed like this, in companionable silence.
Orochimaru then shifted his gaze towards Kaguya.
"Kaguya." He started, his voice slicing through the quiet like a blade through silk. "You could return to Tsuki, rule or simply reside among your people."
His words seemed to hang in the air.
"The kami are vastly indifferent to that world, and Naruto has no designs on it."
Kaguya posed a soft question. "Would you join me?"
"No." He declined, shaking his head. "I have my own quests here, and proximity to Naruto makes me a liability there. The place's safety would be severely compromised, at best."
Kaguya smiled, faintly amused. "I thought as much."
Her words held a tinge of amusement, as if she had expected this answer.
Kaguya's eyes drifted towards the stars as she weighed her decision. Finally, she spoke with resolute clarity. "Then, no. I am staying."
"How foolish." Orochimaru said, his lips curling into a subtle smile.
"Perhaps it is." Kaguya conceded, her eyes never leaving his. There was no trace of regret in her voice.
Orochimaru nodded. "Do as you wish."
Orochimaru's form retreated, merging with the shadows of the colossal structures that made up the inside of the Outer Ring.
Left alone, Kaguya gazed at void of space, a slight smile pulling at her lips in the glow of the stars.
Her heart felt strangely light.
Gama, after a long day, slowly eased himself into what was called the Rejuvenation Pool.
It was pretty much what the name said.
The scalding hot, healing water caressing his skin and soothed his worn-out muscles. Again, it had been a long day, and much more physical than he had expected.
Some people took to the news violently, which he was still confused about.
The end of the world was looming… and they didn't believe it. Okay, that was one thing. But to try and attack him…? For fuck's sake.
Nestled high upon the Celestial Ring, the pool was bathed in an ethereal glow, surrounded by distant stars that stretched into the infinite cosmos.
An eternal night.
There was no invisible, physical ceiling he could feel, aside from layers upon layers of barriers, under something that was apparently a divine domain.
It was a bit disconcerting, too, and Gama felt strangely exposed, facing the void of space.
The pool, of course, was carved from exquisite white marble as well. And speckled with tiny veins of iridescent minerals. The material was cool to the touch, soft beneath the skin, a pleasant contrast to the warm healing waters it contained.
Under the watchful gaze of the stars, the pool shimmered like a silver mirror. Its surface was a flawless expanse, one that mirrored the vastness of celestial canvas above.
Self-cleaning waters, then…? Gama could only take a guess. But laden with chakra as they were, it really wouldn't surprise him. Or perhaps they were just something that looked like water.
It was nearly empty, and the steam wall that rose, most likely for comfort only, obscured much of his vision. That was probably the point, making one feel comfortably alone in here.
A voice echoed across the water, its tone as smooth and cool as the surface of the pool.
His heart thundered and his body froze.
For fuck's sake.
Gama's gaze instantly locked on the individuals who stood on the other side of the pool.
"I said." The man repeated, dryly. "Are you following my daughter…?"
Hebi. Orochimaru.
Hebi, who did not even nod in acknowledgment, her expression unreadable.
Gama felt an echo of the same anger.
He would show her—
No.
The fuck was he even thinking…? This was entirely too stupid. Why should he even care about her opinion…?
The feeling deflated.
"…No, Orochimaru." Gama replied, his voice steady despite the tension knotting in his stomach. "I am not following your daughter."
Orochimaru's snake-like gaze was sharp and probing.
"Then what brings you here, Gama?" He asked, his voice as cold as the marble beneath their feet should have been, if things made any sort of sense here.
Gama glanced at Hebi, searching for some hint of what to say, but her face remained as impassive as ever.
Orochimaru noticed his gaze briefly flickering toward Hebi, and his expression sharpened, a question hidden within his golden eyes.
Did he even know about...? Would he care…?
"I came here for the Rejuvenation Pool." Gama answered, trying to sound as casual as possible. "It's been a long day."
The silence that followed was palpable.
Orochimaru's gaze lingered on him a moment longer before he turned away, his attention seemingly drawn elsewhere.
Gama decided he would not stay for much longer.
There was something else he needed to do, something that would be equally awkward.
…
In the quiet seclusion of Jiraiya's study, surrounded by the faint smell of aged paper and ink, Gama found himself facing his adoptive father.
It was one of the many rooms that had been created directly long the Outer Ring's exterior wall, with a window that stared directly into space.
And a way to layer the illusion of an Earthly sky over it, too.
"…Old man." Gama began, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. The room, although filled with the warmth of Jiraiya's presence, felt almost too quiet, too intimate for the words that needed to be spoken.
Jiraiya tilted his head, silently encouraging his son to continue.
His eyes were much like Gama's. They were two men, so alike yet different, trying to bridge a gap that had been unintentionally created.
"I… I want to apologize." Gama finally blurted out, his voice echoing slightly in the silence of the room.
Jiraiya frowned. "What for…?"
"For staying away… for leaving without a word." Gama stumbled upon his words. He could not recall the last time he had apologized — was it with Nacchan, perhaps…?
"That's okay." Jiraiya shook his head. "I know you would have come back earlier, if you hadn't gotten… uh… forgotten in that Tokyo city."
Gama sighed. "…I ignored the missives they sent me." He admitted. "I could have gone back at any time, but I… Fuck. I don't know. If you're angry at me, I understand. I can — I can — Whatever."
There was a moment of silence as Jiraiya let the words sink in.
Then, a soft chuckle escaped his lips, a sound full of understanding and gentle amusement. "Oh, Naruto." He said, his voice calm and soothing. "You're a lot like me, you know. Too much, perhaps."
Gama looked up at his adoptive father in surprise. "What?"
Jiraiya grinned at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I ran away, too. Once. Twice. Made mistakes, learned lessons the hard way. It's a part of growing up."
"I…"
Jiraiya's gaze softened. Gama wasn't sure why he felt like sobbing.
"You came back. That's what matters."
For Shigeru, a young farmer from the small village of Tōkinoue, the world twisted around him in a whirl of colors and motion.
And then suddenly, he was somewhere else, and staring at remote stars.
He blinked, shaking his head to clear the lingering disorientation. His hands, already weathered and strong from years of toil, gripped the straps of the knapsack that held all of his worldly possessions.
His heart pounded in his chest. He wasn't one for grand adventures or faraway travels — his life had been spent in the fields and pastures of his small village.
He knew of shinobi, however. And as his father before him, had always been wary of their sort.
"Welcome, all of you." A strong voice greeted him.
Shigeru turned to find a blonde-haired man standing there.
His heart thudded louder as he found himself face-to-face with the God-Emperor himself, Uzumaki Naruto.
Or at least, one of his many clones. There were plenty of them running around the world, around the Ring, where they were now.
His mouth went dry, words failing him.
"My — my Lord." Shigeru stuttered, bowing deeply with the others.
The man had become more than a man, it was said. Although when it had happened was a very elusive notion, and many people disagreed.
It was no wonder they were all terrified.
"Don't." The Emperor said. "We are all starting anew. Let me show you around."
Shigeru nodded hesitantly, his heart pounding a little less as he took in his new surroundings.
The Celestial Ring, they called it. They were in the Outer Ring, the one surrounding the gathering cities.
It was like nothing he'd ever seen. Gleaming structures, almost alien in nature but also strikingly beautiful, loomed around him. Behind an impossibly thin and undoubtedly strong glass barrier, an endless expanse of stars and galaxies spread out in a stunning vista.
It was all so overwhelming.
"I know this is a lot to process." The Emperor said, his tone empathetic. "Plenty of us are here to help. All of you came from different places that we didn't have the opportunity to warp or recreate here. Once we create more land, you're free to go there, or to stay here. We've prepared lodgings for everyone. Let me show you."
With a polite gesture from the God-Emperor, the group of strangers, including Shigeru, followed him to a small platform. A number appeared under them as it glowed. Shigeru only managed to read the first digits before they were all displaced—
The world blurred away.
Shigeru had experienced it once before, and it was just as disconcerting as the first time.
They found themselves still within the confines of the ring-like construct, its presence evident from the dome-like ceiling soaring high above them and the distant wall.
As he looked to his left and right, he could see more edifices and plots of land that were yet to be filled with the greenery of grass.
What caught his attention was the subtle curve of the horizon, indicating the scale of the massive circular structure they were in.
The gentle bioluminescent glow, a spectral dance of blues and whites, illuminated the streets of a a settlement carved from what appeared to be crystalline substances and gleaming marble.
Further away, larger buildings reached ambitiously towards the distant glass ceiling, their radiant exteriors reflecting the ethereal luminescence of the residential area.
Between the structures, green pockets of foliage offered a splash of natural color.
It was beautiful… and incomplete, Shigeru realized.
It was a work in progress, reminiscent more of a dreamscape than any tangible town he'd encountered before.
It was nothing like his humble farmhouse.
He could easily envision its future: tranquil, mirror-like canals; verdant grass everywhere; statues presiding over public spaces; and cobblestones underfoot radiating with a softer light.
The Emperor gestured behind them, prompting the group to pivot and find themselves facing a door leading to a comfortable-looking dwelling.
Shigeru stood at the entrance, taking in the details. It was a modest structure by the standards of the Celestial Ring, apparently… but to him, it felt lavish.
The dwelling was built with smooth, seamless walls that curved gracefully, illuminated with soft light from embedded panels.
And one of these houses was to be his home now, supposedly.
"Most residences here follow this basic design." The Emperor said, gesturing inside. "You're safe here, and free to modify them to your liking."
The Emperor detailed many more things about the proceeds.
Then he left, telling them to go rest, and that the formalities would resume the next day.
Shigeru was expecting to receive a key, but didn't. He was given a location and a temporary number, in the meantime.
He followed the directions.
He stepped into a spacious living area, the centerpiece of which was a comfortable seating area.
A curved couch, upholstered in a soft, resilient fabric that adjusted subtly to his weight, was set in front of a generous display screen.
The screen, as well as any of the walls, when not in use, could be set to display serene landscapes of the old Earth, a calming balm for the homesick heart.
The living area flowed into a modern kitchen, equipped with seemingly any neccessity.
The appliances were sleek and touch or sound-operated, a far cry from the rugged tools of his farmhouse, but Shigeru had been assured he would be provided with a simple guide and assistance if needed.
He had also been told that the Ring could definitely use a skilled farmer's mind. Which was a relief, as he wasn't entirely sure what to make out of… this all.
Adjacent to the living space was the bedroom, with a plush bed large enough to rival the most luxurious inns from his village.
The bedding was soft and inviting, and perhaps the idea of nights under the alien skies was not that daunting after all.
A clean, functional bathroom equipped with an efficient water generating and recycling system completed the indoor space.
Supposedly, the appliances took a small portion of the user's chakra to function, or from the Celestial Ring's nearly bottomless well of pooled energy when this was not an option.
It was all state-of-the-art, yet there was a simplicity to its design that made it feel approachable, even homely.
The most breathtaking feature of the dwelling were undoubtedly the ceiling, the walls.
Either could transform into transparent planes on the inside, allowing one to see the area around them. Or taking it one step further… they offered an unobstructed view of the inky black expanse of space.
How that worked, he wasn't sure — likely the sort of tricks shinobi came up in their spare time.
Countless stars twinkled against the velvet backdrop of the universe. To most, it was a view that would have been unimaginable back on Earth.
To Shigeru, who had grown up and lived in a place where light pollution was nothing more than a concept…
It felt just familiar enough for him to finally start relaxing.
"What kind of hovel is this?" Amago Yoshikata sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "These quarters are fit for peasants, not men of my standing."
The False Emperor, the man who had usurped power and unified the land, glanced away from the people he was conversing with.
"You haven't even stepped inside." He observed, his eyes meeting Yoshikata's. "…Ah, it's you."
A smug smile crept onto Yoshikata's lips. Though the Emperor had curtailed his power, recognition still flickered in those eyes. They had never met, but clearly, his reputation preceded him.
"Indeed." He nodded. "I am Amago Yoshikata, esteemed son of the venerable daimyō, descended from a lineage of valor, and proud heir to a legacy—"
"I don't give a fuck about the former daimyō of Fire, Yoshitaka." The Emperor said disinterestedly. "Take the quarters or sleep in the corridors. Or perhaps the grass outside will suit you. Hopefully the cleaning seals don't mistake you for a stain."
Yoshikata's mouth opened, but no words came.
The Emperor had already turned back to his conversation, dismissing him as if he were no more than a passing thought.
Reluctantly, Yoshikata took the quarters. Something cold in the Emperor's eyes told him it was the wiser choice.
A few hours after unpacking in her new room, Emiko felt the walls closing in.
She needed to get out, to explore. She found herself in one of the Celestial Ring's communal spaces, along with people from all walks of life. It was like the market square back in her village, only without the smell of fresh fish, of drunken sailors' vomit, or the chatter of bargaining.
She saw an open seat in a circle of people who seemed deep in conversation. Taking a deep breath to shake off her nerves, she walked over. "Mind if I join?"
"Absolutely, sit down." The woman who spoke had a warm smile that reached her eyes. She introduced herself as Maki, a botanist from Umi. She was excited about her work adapting Earth plants for space and couldn't stop talking about it.
The conversation was a whirlpool, pulling her in. Takashi, an engineer, was brainstorming about energy conservation with anyone who would listen. Yumi, a school teacher, was passionate about the need for better education now that they were all essentially space pioneers.
When it was Emiko's turn to share, she hesitated. "I used to be a sanitation worker back on Earth." She finally said, feeling a bit out of her depth.
"So?" Takashi asked, smiling. "That's important work. I think the higher ups are looking for skilled, willing people, too. I'm not sure what it's going to be like, or what for, however."
The group nodded, and Emiko felt some of her tension melt away.
As the evening progressed, more people drifted in and out of the conversation. Akira, a miner with a face that looked like it had been carved from stone, mostly listened. But when he spoke, the others paid attention.
Misaki, a bubbly former shop assistant, was full of ideas about how to approach these new beginnings.
This place was peculiar; it was nothing like what Emiko was used to, but there were things that felt strangely comforting, too.
For the first time since she'd arrived, she felt like things might actually turn out to be fine.
It had been a long day for Naruto, too.
And tomorrow was likely going to be just as exhausting, what with the many plans they needed to set in motion still.
Challenges faced, problems discussed, plans made, and now, at the tail end of it all, a quiet moment of respite.
Naruto sat on the edge of the large bed, staring blankly at the wall. His mind was still reeling from the day's events, but his body was screaming for rest.
He toyed with the idea of entering that timeless space once more today, to squeeze out every ounce of productivity.
Karin had put her foot down, however.
("No way. You've been spending way too much time in that shit. Go again tomorrow, if you have to, but not tonight. You've been severely overdoing it, both in the last months and especially the last two days. We still have time.")
Ino and Yugito were busy, still — if the latter decided to come at all.
Hanabi and Karin were already in bed, their soft breathing filling the room with a soothing rhythm. They had spent the day either peering into the abyss or trying to contain it; they were as drained as he was.
Karin's hand had found his even in sleep, their fingers interlocking in a comforting embrace.
Hanabi stirred behind him, propping herself up on one elbow. Her eyes, still clouded with sleep, met his. "You should sleep too."
Naruto offered a weary smile. He leaned over to kiss her forehead before extinguishing the dim light with a mere thought. As he lay down, Karin's hand remained in his, while Hanabi nestled against his other side.
The last sensations before sleep overtook him were fingers combing gently through his hair, a hand squeezing his reassuringly, and a profound sense of love.
He was home. Had never left, really.
Amongst all the chaos and uncertainty and the void between the stars, he was home.
And as he finally drifted off to sleep, he knew that no matter what tomorrow brought, they would face it together. As they always had. As they always would.
"Goodnight." He whispered, his voice barely more than a sigh in the stillness of the room. The sleepy answers came soon enough.
"Goodnight, Naruto."
lensdump:
i/9bjOOT : The Worst Sarutobi Since Hiruzen Himself
i/9b0iW9 : Expansion?