The Real Folk Blues
"No, but for real. Imagine the post-nut clarity."
The words, spoken by a beefy blond man, caught Spike Spiegel, who was lounging in the booth with his feet up, off-guard. He turned to Jet with a disbelieving smirk.
They were in a small, retro-futuristic space station orbiting a serene, Earth-like planet. The diner, which was nestled in a transparent dome, offered a breathtaking panoramic view of the planet below and the star-studded blackness beyond.
Inside, the diner blends classic Earthly Americana with futuristic touches: neon lights intermingled with holographic menus, and the jukebox seamlessly integrated both 20th-century classics and the latest interstellar hits. The air hummed softly with a blend of quiet conversations, clinking cutlery, and the gentle whirring of service robots gliding between tables.
Spike's gaze drifted over to a black-haired man paying particular attention to the furniture. This man sat opposite the blond one who had made that owlish statement.
…There was nothing so peculiar about the furniture, however. It was a charming mix of vintage and modern, Spike supposed, with cozy booths lined in red leather and sleek, floating chairs. Potted plants and warm, ambient lighting created an inviting atmosphere. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and intergalactic cuisine wafted through the air, a delightful fusion of familiar Earth dishes and exotic alien delicacies.
Jet, his shipmate, was cleaning his trusty Bonsai tree on the table. He rolled his eyes, a half-smile betraying his amusement. "Post-nut clarity, huh?"
Spike, leaning back with his hands behind his head, smiled wryly. "Hey, it's a legitimate phenomenon. Clears the mind, you know?"
Jet snorted, finally glancing up. "You need more than that to clear your head, Spike."
Spike's smirk widened as he observed the diner. He took a sip from his coffee mug. "Imagine, why don't you. Decisions made without the fog of desire. Could change the course of history."
Jet shook his head, a rueful chuckle escaping him. "It's just what it is, a moment of quiet, not a cosmic revelation."
Spike sat up, pointing a finger. "Ah, but these short moments make up life. A clear moment could lead to a clear decision, and that, in turn..."
Jet leaned back. "And what earth-shattering decisions are you planning to make, you visionary?"
Spike shrugged nonchalantly. "Who knows? Maybe I'll finally figure out what I want for dinner."
Jet made a derisive noise.
Spike grinned, picking up his coffee mug. "Gut instincts, Jet. Trust 'em."
Nearby, the black-haired man finally answered the initial question.
"I'd rather not think about it too hard, Gama." He said dryly. "They are my best friends — it's disgusting. Like hearing your brother… or your sister talking about either of their sex lives — just unsettling. Let's talk about something else. When I was back home, I felt something odd. It was like sensing a comet's rush across the sky — short, but unstoppable. But when I looked up, nothing was there. It was as if I'd imagined the whole thing. Hanabi said something similar."
"Right, right. I see." The blond man shrugged, and ignored most of it. "I've never had a sister."
The black-haired man gave him a dry look, mostly for coming back to the same topic. "Oh, no? Haven't you slept with her?" It was apparently all it took to set off the blond one.
"That bitch is not my sister!" He growled, voice rising a few notches.
Spike put his mug down, feeling a bit queasy, suddenly. Jet seemed a bit pale, too.
A waitress, an android with a 50s style dress, glided over. She Jet's coffee, her LED eyes blinking with a faux-twinkle.
"More coffee?" She asked.
"…Nah, I think I'm good." Spike said after a long pause. "Think I've had enough."
The waitress laughed, a programmed melody, and moved away.
"—no, but for real." The blond man continued animatedly. "It's not my fault the guy fucks anything that moves!"
"He's not that bad, usually." The black-haired one countered. "Aside from the four and a half wives thing."
"Do you know how many times I've had a woman ask me to role-play the Emperor?!" The blond, who was apparently named Gama, asked. "Too many times, that's how many."
Spike checked the bottom of his cup. Something was off today — where were these strangers from, exactly…? Their accent was a bit too perfect, too, for people from as far away as their words implied.
"Whatever." The black-haired man said. "I don't want to talk about this."
Gama sighed. "Fine, fine. Is there any way you could steer him and his teams toward balding solutions?"
"…Are you losing your hair?"
"No." Gama said, passing a hand through it. "It's as thick and luscious as ever. But you never know — plus it's going to attract plenty more people, I'm sure. Since we're expanding."
The other man sighed. "Man, if you're concerned about your hairline, just eat the damn cubes."
"Do they actually work for that?" Gama asked, sounding surprised. "I'll try them again, then. They did nothing for my beard."
"What a shame that is."
Gama snorted in amusement. "It's alright, I'm not alone in this. No Naruto I've met can grow a good one — aside from Roku, I guess. I'm sure that even the Emperor—"
"Move — on — bro." The black-haired man grunted. "Or do you want to be him that badly?"
"Do I want to frequently bang literal goddesses on top of my ivory tower, with entire worlds at my fingertips…?" Gama blinked, and he looked as though he had maybe considered the idea before. "…Nah." He hesitated. "…Probably not, at least. The guy has a lot on his plate."
Spike checked his cup again. Were they just talking in hyperbole?
"Oh?" The black-haired man asked slowly, wryly. "Does he, now?"
"Well, yeah." Gama nodded.
"The way he keeps on sending us out to fix trouble, it's getting kinda hard to see." The other said. "How many people did we have to kill today?"
"…Well, not that many, since you insisted on actually sorting the worst from the almost okay." Gama said.
"Okay, but still." The other man frowned. "That katana-wielding cosplayer who led the Red Dragon crime thing sure had some mental health issues. I almost feel bad for killing him."
Spike began choking on his coffee.
It got bad enough that Jet had to get involved, and by the time he had recovered, the two strangers were gone entirely.
STARS OF DIFFERENT KINDS
Space Dwellers
Hermione Granger jumped at the sounds of impact that resounded from the Moon Grounds.
It was just one out of many training fields, she knew.
But her mind was still reeling from the myriad wonders she had witnessed since her arrival upon the Celestial Ring, on a Friday evening. She had been quite busy this summer, what with Voldemort coming back to life and dying for good, Harry moving to live with his godfather somewhere on this very 'Ring,' her parents insisting on taking her along on a month-long trip to France, summer studying and homework…
But she had kept in touch with Harry, using this strange device he had sent her — she just hadn't managed to visit him before he came back for this school term.
And perhaps she had kept in touch with Boruto too, in spite of his… peculiar views about romantic relationships.
In any case, Hermione Granger stood at the edge of the Moon Grounds, her mind still reeling from the myriad wonders she had witnessed upon the Celestial Ring. It was a Sunday morning, and she would probably stay tonight as well, only leaving for school tomorrow morning.
In another of these expansive, otherworldly arenas, she had seen a group of shinobi manipulating water and fire in a breathtaking dance. They were conjuring dragons of flame and serpents of water that intertwined in a mesmerizing display… to do battle.
The way they bent the elements to their will, with such precision and artistry — to try and slam them into each other.
All of these people moved with such stealth, such silence that they might well have blended with the very air. She had watched, spellbound, as a teenager navigated an obstacle course of laser-like beams, not once triggering the slightest alarm.
These warriors sparred with what appeared to be pure energy, their hands and legs glowing with blue or yellow light. The speed and agility they exhibited were astonishing, and without the option to watch fights at slowed down speeds, she wasn't entirely sure she would have seen much of it, if anything.
And then there were the creatures Boruto had shown her. Mythical beasts that she had only read about in the most obscure of her magical texts, alive and thriving in environments made for them. There was the Kirin, a majestic, dragon-scaled deer. The agile Tengu, bird-like warriors, darted through the air with shaped winds in their hands. Mischievous Kappas played in a small pond, splashing playfully. A Shojo stumbled around joyously, while the magnificent Ryū dragon, a serpent of sea and sky, soared gracefully, its scales shimmering in blues and greens.
Each was a marvel to Hermione, and it filled her with a sense of wonder as bright as her first introduction to the world of magical England.
Equally remarkable, and almost unfathomable, was the fact that the people living under the rule of an emperor with absolute authority seemed genuinely happy. They were free to criticize him — a fact that had made a man laugh when Hermione, aghast, asked if he wasn't afraid to voice such outspoken protests.
("Oh, the Emperor? He came down for drinks just the other night. He's not such a big, scary fellow." The man had said with a dismissive chuckle. "More of a selfish, stubborn bastard who only pays attention to what catches his interest. But he's straightforward, tells it like it is. And to be honest, despite my grumbling, life here is actually pretty good." He paused. "…More than that, even.")
Hermione wasn't naive to the importance of propaganda, of course.
That man was probably a plant.
From Hermione's perspective, however, the cities in this realm were astonishingly advanced, most newer ones resembling utopias where many of the burdens of ordinary life had simply… been lifted.
The architecture blended traditional designs with magical (they called it chakra here, however, but it was clearly as magical as it went) enhancements. The results were crafted spaces that were aesthetically pleasing… and functionally advanced.
The streets were clean, free from the usual clutter and chaos of crowded urban life, and the people moved with either a sense of purpose or calm unlike what she was accustomed to in the wizarding or non-wizarding world.
Public spaces were abundant, filled with lush greenery and enchanted elements that catered to the well-being of its inhabitants. Transportation was seamless, with magical conveyances moving people swiftly and silently when they didn't use the Waygates, leaving the air free of pollution.
Education, healthcare, and other essential services (food, water, lodging) appeared to be universally accessible, contributing to a society where everyone had the opportunity to thrive. The lack of visible poverty or distress was striking; it seemed as if the societal systems in place ensured a high standard of living for all.
Even in this peaceful world, life buzzed with the steady hum of progress.
To Hermione, it seemed like the sort of environment that had been planned to nurture growth. Everywhere you looked, there were signs of advancement; researchers and magic practitioners (chakra-users) collaborated on new projects. The cities themselves seemed to evolve with the needs of their people, growing and changing in a way that felt organic. The arts and culture flourished, free from the usual constraints of conflict and struggle.
There were many things she still found peculiar, but it was the sort of place where she could see herself—
Boruto and his Uncle — the most important man on this planet-ring, apparently — continued their sparring session. It was the man himself, and not one of the many doubles of himself that he had running around. And from what little she had heard of his schedule from Boruto, she wasn't sure where he found the time.
The two of them moved with such speed that Hermione had to really focus on the slowed-down playback on the screen to keep up. Boruto had been brimming with eagerness, five minutes ago his voice carrying across the field.
("I've trained all year, Uncle!" He had said, before throwing himself into battle, shrouded in something that made the air around him blur.)
They hadn't started that long ago, but Boruto was already drenched in sweat.
Boruto… was amazing at this.
It was the only way Hermione could describe it. She had never realized how damn strong he looked under the baggy Mahoutokoro robes, but…
The way he threw himself into maneuvers that would have made an Olympian pale — movements that were a blend of precision and grace, and executed with the confidence of a man twice his age.
Each strike, closed-fisted, open-handed… each mid-air twist showcased not just brute strength but an almost artistic mastery of his body.
Hermione watched, mesmerized by the display.
Every move Boruto made was met with a clean counter from his Uncle, who did not just block but subtly redirected Boruto's energy and turned his own momentum against him. It was clear this was more of a lesson than a spar — maybe something about patience, strategy and something equally mystical?
Boruto suddenly became three, coming at the Emperor from every direction. Even on the screen, there was no warning, no transition. One moment he was encircled by three then five Boruto, the next he was throwing the only remaining one by his collar.
"Oh?" The Emperor asked teasingly. "What did you practice, then?"
"That's low, Uncle!" Boruto shouted back. "Sarada tells me I'm faster than most Jōnin!"
"I wouldn't know how fast a Jōnin is, Boruto." The Emperor shook his head. "We don't really have this sort of thing anymore. Is it fast?"
Boruto reddened, sputtering, before realizing he was falling for it.
He disappeared in a burst of wind before reappearing behind his Uncle, two fingers pointed at him. Crackling thunder exploded from them, as though he were holding a lightning gun.
The Emperor smiled, redirected lightning with his palm, leading it to strike the additional Boruto that had molded himself out of soil. Boruto slammed his hands together and the floor of the arena became a large pool of mud.
No, not mud, Hermione realized. Oil. Boruto promptly set it on fire when his Uncle decided to stand on it — perhaps in an attempt to act like a normal ninja who had been surprised by the tactic.
Boruto weaved hand signs, and the blur around him seemed to focus on his hands. He clapped them together and released a veritable hurricane toward the firepit.
It became a roaring blaze. Hermione realized with a tremor that no one, not even a wizard, could survive such a thing. Boruto was breathing a little bit harder, but he began weaving signs anew, even as veins pulsed around his temples. The air around him seemed to heat up.
A hand appeared out of nowhere and clapped him on the shoulder. Boruto turned around wearily, and knew what to expect.
"Nice jutsu that you're weaving. Who is it for?" The Emperor asked Boruto. "Showing off in front of Hermione?"
With a weary sigh, Boruto released his jutsu, and the veins around his eyes receded as well. "Oh, come on…" He said. "I know, I know... don't rely too much on your eyes, because that leaves you more open to—"
The Emperor laughed. "Well, no. I was there until right now. Your Byakugan didn't fool you."
Boruto palmed his face. "…Ah. Then I'm supposed to look underneath the underneath, or something."
"Right." The Emperor nodded. "Or under that." He paused to think. "Or become so swift that you can safely smite your enemy before it comes to that, I guess. That's how I tend to do it."
"Man…" Boruto sighed. "I'm never going to be a decent ninja at this rate, am I?"
The Emperor gave him a knowing, wry look. "Eh, who knows. You're not half bad, actually."
"You're just saying that because we have company—" Boruto said, and he meant the portal of dark light that had suddenly opened.
Hermione clapped enthusiastically for Boruto's display.
Boruto smiled at her, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.
…
"Training Boruto, I see?"
The words came from Hanabi, light and teasing, as she and Yoisen emerged from a portal to the Celestial Ring.
They had arrived just in time to see the end of the sparring session, with Boruto looking thoroughly exhausted, sweat drenching his clothes. Yoisen noticed that he seemed taken aback by Hanabi's comment. "...You remember my name, now?" Boruto asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice.
Hanabi blinked. "Oh, was that actually your name, then?"
Boruto let out a resigned sigh, before waving to Yoisen.
Naruto, watching the exchange with an amused smile, turned to greet Hanabi and Yoisen as well. "Don't mind her, Boruto. She's just trying to tease you."
"…Am I?" Hanabi asked evenly.
"Probably." Naruto decided. "Welcome back."
She drew closer to him and he pulled her into a soft, loving kiss. Yoisen watched, her heart warm with genuine happiness for them. Her own longing, she tucked away.
Then, Naruto's eyes met Yoisen, shining with something that caught her off guard. He stepped forward with a warm smile and wrapped her in a tight embrace. The surprise quickly gave way to a surge of warmth, a feeling so intense it nearly took her breath away. She was pulled in, pressed against him, and it was over before she even knew it had begun.
And then she was standing there, slightly dazed, with a silly, sincere smile on her face.
Naruto's eyes crinkled at the corners as he asked, "Did you two enjoy your trip?"
"It was wonderful." Yoisen blurted out.
Hanabi couldn't manage to suppress a small chuckle, prompting Yoisen to kick her shin when no one else was looking.
…
Left hand palm strike, block his rising kick by deflecting, bounce back and follow through with a careful chakra application, aiming at his unguarded chin—
It was a dance Yoisen and Naruto had practiced many, many times.
Usually, they would meet up in Kumo-no-Miyako, the City of Clouds, but the Moon Grounds were a decent alternative, as well. They would talk for a bit, she would try her best to flirt — which was an ongoing learning endeavor, and she imagined was as awkward for him as it was for her — and finally, they would spar.
For a few hours. Before their respective duties called again, or Naruto would simply disappear into Shade's Realm for an instant.
Yoisen rarely won these spars, especially nowadays. She was no Hanabi, was no Toru either. But the fact that she could win at all, although only in unfair conditions: chakra usage allowed, but not his advanced Ninjutsu techniques, which put him at a disadvantage, considering she had the superior control… Still, it likely said good things about her skills.
Surprisingly enough, this morning, she thought she had a chance.
There was an unusual distraction in his movements, a slight thoughtfulness that was unbecoming during a spar. Of course, she seized the opportunity.
Naruto went for a right jab, and she spun with the movement, grabbing his sleeve with her own right hand and stepping in closer to him. She turned her back to him and used her legs to lift him off the floor, leveraging the grip on his sleeve. As well as his own momentum, against him.
He flipped right over her back, and she thought she saw Boruto's jaw hanging open as his uncle was slammed into the floor.
"I believe I won this one." She said, unable to suppress a triumphant grin.
In answer, Naruto shot her an offended look that had her double down on her poker face.
Boruto, in the background, jeered at him, and so did Hanabi, of course — and perhaps the family resemblance was obvious, today. Hermione was just hiding her face as the other two roared.
Yoisen wasn't focusing much on them, however. Naruto was smiling at her. She'd be fooling herself if she tried to pretend she even noticed the background noise.
'My, he is beautiful.'
As she extended a hand to help him up, he grabbed it, pulling himself up with a swift motion.
"You're right." He said, dusting off his clothes casually, and leaning in closer. "I think I might be getting distracted, you know."
Yoisen's heart skipped a beat. "…Oh?" She asked, quite confidently, although perhaps her voice cracked a little. "...Truly?"
"Yes." He said, shaking his head. "Boruto has been trying to throw me off my game — and the little shit has gotten decent at barbs, it seems. I suppose he really was one of Kakashi's students, too." He concluded, with rueful amusement.
"...Right." Yoisen said after a small pause.
Their audience of three, Boruto's friend included, seemed unimpressed.
"You see this, Noruto?" Hanabi asked, pointing at them and waiting for him to nod, which he did, if a bit testily. "That's bad form. Don't be like them. Be better."
…
Hanabi offered to teach Boruto some 'actually good moves — nothing senseless like a hundred and twenty eight finger jabs to incapacitate someone.'
"What's the catch?" He squinted.
"There's no catch, Joruto." Hanabi said dryly. "I just love to beat teenagers up."
"What do you gain out of this?"
Hanabi exhaled a sigh of mild frustration, her patience wearing thin. "Forget it." She said, dismissively waving a hand. "I withdraw my offer. Maybe you should ask your own Hanabi to—"
"No, no." Boruto said hurriedly, because he knew what was good for him — and which one of the two Hanabi was likely not going to be too soft on him for him to truly improve, on top of being much stronger. "I'm in, Auntie, thank you — Let's practice!"
His eagerness was palpable, as it was an opportunity that anyone could recognize. His uncle was number two (or three) on the worldly Taijutsu rankings, and the first spot was a shared one. Hanabi was one of the two Masters. And her style was closer to his own than Uncle's — Boruto wasn't freakishly large, for one, and had never truly managed to make the modified Snake style the man used his own.
Hanabi's expression softened slightly, a smirk playing at the edge of her lips, satisfied with his quick turnaround. "Let us go then, Boru—"
A portal of dark light opened.
Sakura, Uncle's wife, appeared with a mischievous grin, making a playful finger gun gesture.
Boruto, initially oblivious to its meaning, was suddenly ensnared by a rope of water and pulled through the portal. He finally noticed that Mitsuki and Sarada were here already. And then so was Hermione, also quickly drawn in by another of Sakura's watery lassos.
Sarada greeted them with a nod, a relaxed demeanor contrasting her school-year tension, while Mitsuki's gaze lingered curiously on Yoisen's attire.
"I'll be taking these two, Little Firecracker!" Sakura called out to Hanabi, teasing her with the nickname she loathed.
Hanabi's eyes widened in disbelief. "The hell you will—"
Too late. Sakura and her unofficial group ('Team Six Redux, Plus Boruto's Little Witch Friend.') was already gone.
…
Shortly after the unexpected departure of Sakura and her impromptu team, Hanabi also made her exit.
Yoisen, out of curiosity, asked where she was headed. Hanabi gave her an amused look and casually mentioned a plan to spend a relaxing day with Karin, including a visit to a steam room. The playful wink, however, hinted at more, so Yoisen left it at that.
"Nice jacket." Naruto remarked, with a hint of mirth as he observed Yoisen.
She gave her most dignified nod. Prim and proper always beat awkward. "Thank you, it is... new."
It wasn't.
Ah, damn. Perhaps it was also time for her to escape. It likely beat embarrassing herself.
Naruto's smile widened, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "Oh? That's funny, I could have sworn it was Hanabi's."
It was a nice jacket, very well-made (Hanabi was a bit of a perfectionist) and fashionable, too. Yoisen, ever out of step with fleeting fashion trends, trusted Hanabi's judgment implicitly. On these matters.
"…It is Hanabi's." Yoisen admitted. "And it is pretty new, too."
"Right." There was something in his expression that made Yoisen raise both eyebrows. "Hanabi let you borrow her jacket, huh."
"…Is that unusual? Should I not be wearing this?" She recalled Sakura's comments and Ino's peculiar glance.
Naruto laughed. "You could wear a paper bag and still look nice. It's just… surprising."
Yoisen felt her ears redden slightly. "Why is that?" She managed a small smile. "She often borrows my clothes, so I thought..." She trailed off. "I suppose it is only fair, right?"
"It's not about that." Naruto's smile held a touch of affection. "It's just that Hanabi is usually quite… possessive about her belongings, that's all."
Yoisen waited for an explanation. "So…?"
Naruto simply smiled. "Well, the list of people Hanabi trusts enough to share anything with is short. Very short — I can count them on my hands, actually."
Yoisen blinked.
"I'm glad you two are getting along." Naruto concluded, smiling an easy smile, eyes crinkling up. As they walked, he shifted his position slightly, almost as though he were making room for her. She fell in step with him, opting not to think too hard on it…
"Yes." Naruto said.
Yoisen blinked. "Yes…? To what?"
"You were about to ask me a question." He said, tilting his face down to hers, eyes still closed. "I'm telling you the answer is yes."
What did he mean…?
For a second, she was tempted to ask for too much. But she thought of Ino, and where she fit in all of this.
"I was wondering if you ever heard back from Adachi Minoru." Yoisen said.
Naruto laughed openly, and seemed to move slightly closer to her as they walked down the snowy path. "I'm surprised you remember that particular writer."
A hint of red tinted Yoisen's cheeks. "You mentioned him in a letter once."
"Indeed, many months back." Naruto's smile widened.
Yoisen gave a little shrug, now feeling slightly embarrassed. "I tend to remember such details."
His smile softened, and it was in these moments that she felt all too willing to overstep thin lines that already, seemed to be drawn in sand. "I know, Yoisen."
Silence settled between them briefly, and she felt a bit unbalanced. He really had a talent for making her feel that way, she thought.
Naruto broke the silence with enthusiasm. "He wrote not just one, but three books in the series. Space dragons, no less. And they're quite good." He shook his head in amazement. "I have them at home. Come with me. We could start a Kachōfūgetsu projection."
Kachōfūgetsu was an extraordinary technology that brought narratives to life, creating immersive, three-dimensional worlds from text, audio, or video. It worked through a blend of advanced technology and chakra manipulation, engaging all senses to project the story's environment, characters, and events.
To activate it, one infused their chakra into a device, linking it with the narrative. This link drew upon the imagination and the chakra patterns of the user or the author, if they had linked their own projection to the story.
Then Naruto laughed. "You should see the face you're making. I'm just joking about the projection." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I like you that way — a true dinosaur, just like I am. We'll just read it together, the old-fashioned way."
Yoisen was only too happy to oblige, and that was how they spent most of the day.
The Cost of Peace
A young Uzumaki Naruto faced Ōtsutsuki Kaguya, his posture upright and eyes determined.
It was the battle to end it all, the battle to end the Fourth War. The last battle — hopefully Sasuke wouldn't decide to do something stupid at the end of it.
The battle was ongoing, and while Naruto and the rest of Team Seven – minus Sai, who was kind of not Team Seven anymore now that his cooler version was back, and Yamato, who was probably getting drained for his Mokuton somewhere again – were not losing…
Well, they weren't winning either. But it didn't matter.
Improvisation was an Uzumaki specialty - at this point, Naruto was like 90% of the clan's strength and population anyway, so he kinda called the shots.
"Space granny!" He called out, with his booming voice.
Her eyes were upon him.
Naruto made his request and the battle seemed to halt.
…
Sakura was glaring holes in the back of his head, and Kakashi-sensei seemed to be checking himself for a genjutsu.
"Yes. You heard me right." Naruto said, voice tinged with defiance. "I need to know about the Sage's conception."
Kaguya's eyes narrowed. "Foolish child." She said. "Do you even understand what you are blabbering about?"
Sasuke shifted uncomfortably beside Naruto, his face a shade paler – it kinda looked like disgust. "Naruto." He began hesitantly, but Naruto cut him off.
"I need to understand them all if I am to break the cycle of hatred! Our history, our origins! They matter. Even in this battle – Especially in this battle!" He yelled. "That's my ninja way!"
Kaguya's three eyes widened in something full of disbelief. "You are a fool. More of an imbecile than even my sons were–"
"I don't care!" Naruto roared. "BELIEVE IT!"
Kaguya glared at him, her eyes blazing with fury. Naruto held her glare.
The staring match went on for a long, tense while — Sasuke and Kakashi probably thought he and Kaguya were fighting some sort of Uchiha illusion battle in their minds.
And then, a soft sound resounded. It was a sound that hadn't been heard in a thousand years.
Quietly at first. Then, less so. Ōtsutsuki Kaguya was laughing.
A pure, honest laugh.
And then she met Naruto's eyes, a glint of something dangerous in her eyes.
"Very well." She said. "I suppose you will do. Prepare yourself, human. It will be your life's hardest fight, the one to give it meaning... or take it all away from you."
Ōtsutsuki Kaguya disrobed herself.
…
Years later
As the sun began to set, casting a warm orange glow over the Hidden Leaf Village, Naruto and his son sat atop the Hokage Monument, overlooking the peaceful village.
"And this..." Naruto concluded with a deep breath, breathing in his pipe's smoke with a groan of pleasure. "Is how we won the war. A high price, certainly, but one I was willing to pay."
His ringed, youthful eyes full of wonder, his son looked up at him, absorbing the weight of the story he'd just been told. It was kinda traumatizing.
"Ōtsutsuki Obito." Naruto began, his voice taking on the proper gravitas, "You carry the name of your mother, a name that holds great power and legacy, especially now that she's off waging space war against her very own race and I take care of the house. But you also bear the name of the coolest guy I ever knew."
Obito nodded, and somewhere close, Sasuke let out a long suffering sigh. It wasn't much worse than Hinata's constant avoidance of him, however. But that was life, everything had a price.
...That gave him an idea for his speech to his son, actually.
"Never forget the lessons of our past, and always strive to uphold the honor and strength of those who came before you."
Naruto nodded to himself as he patted his son's short horns. It sounded like something Old Man Third would say - it was hard to tell, since the man died before Naruto reached puberty - which meant it was probably a great speech.
…
A couple years after that
This world's Uzumaki Naruto finished recounting his tale.
Gama stayed silent.
Sasuke stayed silent.
Toru stayed silent.
Gama glanced at Ōtsutsuki Obito who, aside from the ghostly pallor and the horns, looked like any happy child.
…Well, any happy child who bore the Rinnegan.
"…And that's how we won the Fourth War." The Ōtsutsuki husband said.
Gama slowly turned towards the others. "…Anything to say?" He asked slowly. "Anything at all? Guys…?"
"…Not really." Sasuke breathed out.
"That's enough for me." Toru said at last. "Please call us if you have any Ōtsutsuki trouble again… Preferably not the domestic kind. Naruto."
"Of course!" The man grinned. "That's a promise, believe it!"
"…Right." Toru closed his eyes. "Gama, Sasuke, we're leaving."
The Archduke's Latest Ally
"I do love these wizard worlds." Mitsuki remarked amiably.
They had just stepped through the portal.
'They' being Sakura, Boruto, Sarada, Mitsuki and Hermione. And they now found themselves in a bustling market square, surrounded by tall stone buildings and a multitude of people. Very different people.
It looked like a scene straight out of a knightly fantasy from one of Boruto's comics, except for the distinct magical aura that hung in the air.
Hermione was glancing around in amazement. There were elves here. The ones from Muggle stories, not the ones that she knew from her time in Hogwarts. Dwarves, stout and strong. Tall, slender and graceful beings whose skin shimmered in various shades of blue and green. People with red skin and horns curling from their foreheads.
"Oh, the horned ones?" Sakura asked her. "Yeah, don't worry. They're not Ōtsutsuki, I asked last time." Then after pausing. "Oh, I'm Sakura, by the way. You are… Hermione, right?"
Hermione knew the name, unfortunately.
Sakura smiled when she noticed her reaction. "Right, Boruto probably described me as a lunatic."
"Actually…" Hermione shook her head, and took a deep breath. "He said that you were one of his uncle's wives and that he trusted you with his life."
It was true.
But he had also called her a lunatic.
Sakura blinked. "Oh." She gave Boruto a surprised look. "Good boy. Which treats do you like most?"
Boruto gave her his most unimpressed look. Which Hermione now realized made him look like his uncle. "The human sort."
"Good answer, Boruto." Mitsuki smiled. "They are mine, too."
Sakura only laughed, dragging a happy Sarada by the hand. "Well, come on, then. I'm sure there are some here, too."
They continued to walk through the city — it was named Baldur, or so Hermione thought.
"Nacchan would have liked this." Boruto said, a bit wistfully. "…Before."
"I don't think Nacchan wants to hear anything about wizards right now, yes." Sarada nodded in acknowledgment.
Boruto glanced at her. "…It's because of that competition, isn't it?"
"Yes." Sarada left it at that. Nacchan hadn't mentioned it himself, so she felt as though it wasn't her place to do so. "But he's fine, I've heard it from a reliable source."
Boruto sighed. "…I guess that's all I can ask for, then."
Hermione glanced over, her brow furrowed in thought. "You know, sometimes it helps to talk about these things." She said gently.
Sarada and Boruto exchanged a look, considering her words. "You're probably right." Sarada admitted. "I don't know if that's the shinobi way, though."
Hermione frowned. "Then perhaps the shinobi way is wrong."
"Right." Sarada said evenly. "Like everything shinobi is wrong."
Hermione reddened. "That's not what I said."
"That's what you think, however."
"Well." Hermione began, voice rising slightly. "Perhaps murdering people is not always the solution."
"You're entirely right." Sarada acknowledged. "That's why we hypnotize them, sometimes. To make them see what's right."
Sakura, who heard them and agreed, nodded to herself. But it was good for Sarada to debate with people her own age, so she said nothing.
Mitsuki nodded benignly.
Boruto cleared his throat, sensing the tension. "Hey, let's not get into an argument here. We're all trying to do what's best… in our own ways." He said. "And… Sarada may say this sort of stuff, but she doesn't actually do half of what she says—"
"Do I not?" Sarada cut him off with a sharp glance.
Boruto, who knew her well, remained unimpressed. "You haven't killed anyone in the castle, did you?"
Sarada frowned.
"There was no need for it, no." Mitsuki said.
Outside of the castle was an entirely different thing, and both Boruto and Sarada knew it.
"See?" Boruto shrugged. "She doesn't do any bad stuff to anyone who doesn't really believe it."
"Boruto has a lot of empathy." Mitsuki assured Hermione with a smile. "That is why he is my sun. I mean this in the most platonic of ways, of course."
Hermione didn't look entirely reassured — if anything, she seemed weirded out. "…I suppose that's a start." She said, somewhat sarcastically. "But I guess…" She said, as though it cost her a great deal. "Not everything is black and white… not every teacher is right, either."
Boruto had the distinct impression that she was thinking of Sakura. Well, if that's what it took to break Hermione out of her 'authority figures are always right' spell, then so be it.
Sarada nodded, a flicker of empathy crossing her face. "Exactly. It's about survival, and protecting those you care about. It's never easy."
Hermione sighed, the tension in her posture easing. "…I suppose you're right. It's just hard to see things that way when you're not used to it."
Sarada offered a small, wry smile. "Welcome to our world, Hermione. It's complicated."
"Not that much." Mitsuki said lightly.
Hermione looked as though she had something more to say, but simply sighed instead.
Boruto was already darting between stalls, examining trinkets and magical artifacts. "Look at this!" He exclaimed, holding up a glowing orb.
Sarada shook her head with a fond smile. "Focus, Boruto. We're here for a reason."
Mitsuki tilted his head. "Are we?"
"Distress call." Sakura said. "And since Hermione here is a wizard… witch. And because you three apparently decided you wanted to follow the Ninja Way—"
"The Path of the Warrior." Mitsuki corrected.
"Right, that one." Sakura said, scratching the back of his head in a show of appreciation. Mitsuki thought that he had his own hands, but didn't mind too much. "So I figured you might want to get started early. I'm sure you are all decently good at murder and all, by now."
"Thank you." Sarada nodded. "We are."
Hermione glanced at each of them in turn. She seemed kinda horrified, but said nothing.
"That is right." Sakura nodded. "Boruto here…" She pointed at him with her thumb. "…Has been trained by my husband himself, and is a budding master of lightning and wind. Which means that there aren't that many people out there in the worlds that he can't rend or turn to a crisp."
"But that's…" Hermione began, hands going up to her mouth. "That's…"
"Impressive, right?" Sakura smiled genially. "That's Boruto for you. By age thirteen or so, he had already killed—"
Sarada motioned for Sakura to come a bit closer, and she whispered in her ear: "They are already together, Sakura. There's no need to wingman him."
"Oooh…" Sakura said in realization. She sighed, slapping her forehead. "Why didn't you say so right away?"
Hermione was entirely silent, and the only other sensible person here — relatively so, at least — noticed.
"…Who are we helping?" Boruto asked, sighing. Yeah, now he didn't regret calling her a lunatic anymore.
Sakura smiled. "A nice man, I had a quick chat with him already."
A hooded figure approached them, his deep-set eyes scanning the group, and he was accompanied by two massive steel machines.
Hermione suddenly had a terrible feeling about the entire affair.
"You must be the reinforcements. Lord Gortash has been expecting you."
…
"As said before, we received the distress call." Sakura said, once they entered the Archduke's rooms. "Here we are. What seems to be the problem?"
Lord Enver Gortash was often described as a handsome man with an easy smile.
To Sakura, he looked kinda weird: both happy and sad, angry and depressed, in love and annoyed all the same. And he had the haircut of a JRPG protagonist going through a midlife crisis, too.
Speaking of, she really was looking forward to going home. If Gama had one use, it might be just that: being their local dealer of video games.
Lord Enver Gortash leaned in, his voice low. Boruto's bushy-haired friend was very silent. For a moment, Sakura wondered if no one had given her a translator. But no, that wasn't it. Her hand was wrapped tight around the wand she carried in her pocket.
It seemed like a bad weapon in many ways, honestly. And throwing it didn't seem like a great option, for most wizards.
In any case… Lord Enver Gortash leaned in.
"Rebels. They've been causing havoc in the city. Plotting against me." He said. "I need you to sniff these rats out, so that I can kill this uprising."
Mitsuki raised an eyebrow. 'Why would rebels be a problem for someone as powerful as the Lord of the City?'
Boruto did the mental equivalent of a shrug, which was a shrug. 'I don't know.'
'Doesn't your uncle have them too?' Sarada asked.
'I don't think so.'
'Ah. I am glad you asked.' Mitsuki smiled. 'Let me tell you what Father said. Dissenters are found very quickly, thanks to the intent wards. They are then sent to other worlds where they might fit better.'
'…Like prison-worlds?' Sarada asked.
'Uncle wouldn't do that.' Boruto contested.
Sakura thought something along the same lines. "Why don't you use your steel robots?" She asked Gortash.
Boruto glanced at Mitsuki. '…So he recently took over the city, is building an army of robots and has people conspiring against him already?'
Mitsuki nodded. 'That is the price of peace, Boruto.'
Lord Gortash sighed.
"I have reason to believe they've acquired some ancient artifacts. Powerful ones. We believe they're using them to counteract my magic."
Sakura exchanged a glance with her team. "We'll help."
To Boruto, Gortash's eyes seemed to glint with malice, but Sakura seemingly paid it no mind. Perhaps he was reading too much into it.
She had seen many powerful figures in her time and had learned not to judge based on appearances thanks to her time with Orochimaru.
"I knew you would." Lord Gortash said.
"Me and my… disciples need to know more about these rebels, first."
Lord Gortash waved a hand dismissively. "They're a nuisance. With your help, they'll be easily dealt with."
"Right." Sakura nodded. "I'll do just that, then."
Well, first she'd have to check Gortash's mind, then the rebels'. The Archduke seemed like a reasonable man, haircut aside, but one could never be too cautious.
"Say, before I leave…" Sakura began slowly. "Why is someone screaming?"
Gortash frowned at her. "Screaming…? What do you mean? I do not hear any sort of screaming—"
One of the great windows of the throne room shattered.
Four people came through the glass and recovered quickly.
"Assassins?" Sakura asked evenly, hiding Hermione behind her. "We don't have many of those at home, so pay attention, Boruto."
"The Emperor said he survived five or six of them." Mitsuki pointed out. "He doesn't remember exactly."
"Oh, right." Sakura slapped her forehead. "In the beginning, there was some discontent."
Hermione glanced at them, but didn't say anything.
Lord Gortash sighed as he stood up. "Look who came crawling back, Karlach—"
"GORTASH!" The scream came from a red-skinned, horned woman. "FACE ME, YOU COWARD!" Heat was coming from her in the form of flames. Sakura absentmindedly summoned a conjuration of water around the four teenagers.
"Your spurned lover?" Sakura asked Gortash with some slight interest. Dealing with an angry Ino was never fun, but domestic scenes, when seen from the outside, usually made for decent amusement.
Gortash sighed. "…Something like it, I suppose." He turned to face the new group of four — there was the red woman, a pale male elf with red eyes, some humanoid frog and another woman with slightly pointed ears. "That was your doing, wasn't it, Karlach? The destruction of half of my Steel Watch. Such a petty vengeance."
The red-skinned woman answered, sneering. "These things were evil. Just like their papa." She spat fiery spit. "To think I ever worked for you. Proudly, too."
Gortash smiled in this affable manner of his. "I never meant to harm you, dear — merely to help you realize your vast potential."
"You sent me to the Hells! You let Zariel take my heart. As though any of it was yours to give away."
"We could have moved mountains, we could have shaken the planes. And you chose—"
They continued to speak in the background, getting more and more angry.
"…I'm not sure I follow." Boruto muttered. "What are they even talking about?"
Sakura shrugged. "Who knows? It's better to let them talk it out, I suppose."
"They just mentioned someone named Orin." Mitsuki said. "Do you know of her, Sakura?"
"Nope." Sakura said. "Probably a friend of theirs."
While the ex-lovers were talking (screaming at each other), the pale elf shot an arrow at Gortash. Sakura frowned and waved her hand. The arrow disappeared.
A fight didn't break out, but the tension rose slightly.
"Oh." The man frowned. "Well. I suppose you stole my arrow. I will load two, next time." He paused. "Perhaps… you could give it back to me…? These things aren't free, you know."
Sakura threw it back at him wordlessly.
"Oh, truly…?" He asked dryly. "I was only jesting, you know…?"
Sakura shrugged. "I don't really have a use for it either."
The man smiled. "Ah, not fond of ranged weapons, I take it… I do prefer getting up close and personal, as well."
Sakura tilted her head. "Could you not stare at my neck so blatantly when you say that?"
"He's a vampire!" Hermione blurted out and the man stiffened.
"Of course not." Sakura chuckled. "What would he be doing out there in broad daylight? I've learned about these beings."
"They don't always need to, Sakura." Boruto pointed out.
"Right." The man smiled. "Right… Listen to the child, darling." As if tasting the air: "Sakura. Such a beautiful name for such a deadly rose. My name, of course, is Astarion—"
Mitsuki smiled. "He's not lying, this time. I heard him mumbling that to himself earlier."
Astarion sighed. "What is it you want, exactly, you pale little freak…? Go on, scram."
Mitsuki blinked. "And go where?"
"Somewhere I do not see you would be a safe bet." Astarion said in deadpan tones. "Perhaps back to your vampire den…?"
Mitsuki shook his head. "Although I have fangs and my name might also be read as moonlight, I am not a vampire. I do understand your confusion."
"Oh, that is rich." Astarion laughed. "Neither am I, then—"
"But you are not a vampire, not exactly." Sakura finally pointed out. "I don't think I was too hasty in saying that, actually." She smiled and this time, he bristled. "I think I understand it — you are a vampire of some sort, but that thing in your head allows you to walk in the sun."
Gone was Astarion's amusement. "Ah, yes. How could I forget…?" He murmured darkly.
"Gortash!"
The call for the Archduke reverberated through the air.
This time, the red-skinned woman, Karlach, went in. Her intent was pretty clear, too. She raised her battle axe high in the air, running toward Gortash, as though empowered by rage.
Hermione's scream pierced the air as Karlach's axe brutally split the automaton into two, gears and cogs falling out of its ruptured shell.
More of the automatons appeared out of nowhere.
Chaos quickly took over the entire room. The frog-looking woman with a small, upturned nose rushed into the battle, swinging her broadsword with practiced ease. The only human of Karlach's group began weaving spells, and golden spirits rose around her, spinning. Astarion appropriately hid into the shadows, trying to find hidden corners from which he could shoot arrows.
Sakura, observing the unfolding mayhem, sighed. "Oh dear, this is getting messy."
She motioned for the kids to stay where they were, even though she was pretty sure they could handle such a low level of fighting.
Lord Gortash was screaming something, even as he tried to shoot down the fiery woman with a crossbow.
"…I think he's calling out to you." Hermione said.
"To me?" Sakura frowned. "Why would he even need my help to handle just four people?" Deftly, she waved away an arrow that would have struck Gortash in the chest. "Besides, that's something they have to fight out. I'll just prevent it from getting too murderous."
Mitsuki nodded. "Is this a teaching moment, then?"
Sakura thought about it. "It could be, yes." She nodded to herself. "In personal drama, maybe? Their shit is turning out to be more interesting than I thought it could be — a spurned lover coming after the lord of the land's life? Yeah, I like this."
"Are you taking notes?" Sarada asked dutifully.
"Well, yes." Sakura laughed. "This novel won't write itself."
"I see." Sarada nodded, and Sakura let her deflect the automaton Karlach had thrown around in a fit of berserker rage. Hermione still screamed, but it was handled, really. "What is this novel going to be about?"
"Anything, really." Sakura shrugged. "Life?"
"And what is today's lesson about?" Mitsuki asked.
Sakura regarded him dully. "Uh… It's about taking care of loose ends?"
"Help me!" Gortash ordered someone.
Sakura shook her head at him. "That woman said you took her heart. That's really not something I should step into."
Karlach had said that. And it seemed as though she meant it quite literally. Now that he took a closer look, Boruto could see something mechanical inside her chest, where her heart probably should have been.
"…I think he really did it." Boruto said to his latest teacher. "Like, literally."
"That's a misuse of language again, Boruto." Sakura said, frowning.
"It's not."
"Help me!" Gortash ordered again.
There was something at the edge of Hermione's mind. Something telling her that she wanted to help Gortash... No. That she needed to—
Sakura waved her hand, and Hermione could think again.
"Oh." Sakura said, frowning. "That was a compulsion. On my newest student, too. You're actually a bad guy, aren't you?"
The answer came from the red-skinned woman. "You think?! You think?!"
Sakura shrugged. "I would have checked anyway."
Bombs went off.
Their explosions created shockwaves that rippled through the area, sending a palpable force that could be felt reverberating in the chests of everyone present. The sound was deafening, a concussive roar that momentarily drowned out all other noises, leaving ears ringing.
The explosive aftermath bathed the area in a sweltering inferno. Intense heat radiated from the epicenter, scorching everything in its proximity. Billowing flames and dense smoke painted a dramatic backdrop in vivid shades of orange, red, and black.
Sakura laughed. With swift precision, she conjured multiple protective barriers, enveloping the children in a cocoon of safety.
Karlach, relentless and fierce, seized the opportunity. She moved through the chaos, through the flames with lethal grace, dispatching the remaining automatons that had somehow endured the initial blast.
All the while, Gortash's cries for help crescendoed in desperation. His voice, laced with anger and disbelief, boomed across the battlefield. "You!" He bellowed at Sakura. "You were supposed to help me!"
Sakura, unfazed, responded with a casual shrug. "No, I'm supposed to help the world. The personal offer was for good guys only. Seems like we're aligning ourselves with the red-skinned demon instead."
"Betrayal is very common for shinobi." Mitsuki explained to Hermione, when he noticed her gaping mouth. "It is a game we play, and we play it well."
Hermione closed her eyes and decided here and there that she would either have to become part of the Celestial Ring's leadership or to stay very, very far away from it.
Karlach and her group, although wary and surprised, adapted to their new circumstances rather fast.
Betrayed and cornered, Gortash spun towards Karlach, his face contorted with rage. "After everything we've endured together—" He began.
But Karlach cut him off with a terse, "Save it." Her approach was deliberate, each step measured as she closed the distance between them.
"Well. I guess you can have your revenge, now." Sakura shrugged. "Time for us to go, I guess."
Hermione, her voice tinged with uncertainty, asked, "Go where?"
Sakura pointed towards Gortash. "He had plans to use a colossal mind-control device, the Netherbrain, to enslave the population. We're going to destroy it."
Karlach, overhearing this, stopped in her tracks. "You know about the brain?"
"Yup." Sakura said. "I read his mind when he made eye contact. He's some god named Bane's chosen."
Gortash, amidst his laughter tinged with madness, declared. "You can't seize the Brain! Your efforts will only bring death. Or worse!"
Sakura, unfazed, met his gaze again, probing deeper. "So, this Morphic Pool is where it's hidden, correct?"
His laughter continued, unbroken. "Go ahead, fool."
"Got it." Sakura said. "I'll be right back, kids."
Sakura disappeared.
Gortash stared at the casual display of high-level magic. That was strangely fast.
The throne room, now engulfed in flames and chaos, fell into a tense silence.
Sarada, her gaze fixed on Karlach, broke the silence. "So." She began, a hint of curiosity in her voice. "You were about to finish him off, weren't you?"
Karlach shook her head slowly, her eyes reflecting a deep sense of fatigue. "Yes, I am." She admitted. "But not in front of you. Some things are too grim for young eyes." Her voice was soft yet firm.
"I don't care, frankly." Sarada said.
Boruto glanced at Hermione, and then slowly nodded.
Mitsuki stared at Gortash, who was trying to escape. He pointed it out to Karlach.
Karlach's boot pressed into the man's back, and that attempt was cut short.
The air in the room thickened with tension as Karlach's words resonated with a quiet, chilling intensity. "Orin is dead. Ketheric is dead. Your turn today, Gortash."
Gortash, defiant yet visibly shaken, retorted with scorn. "You're just a rabid dog!" He spat the words with disdain. "And a dog follows its master's commands!"
His spell didn't take.
Karlach smiled grimly. "Perhaps you should have held that leash a bit tighter, then. As soon as the children are gone, you're gone, too."
"I—"
Before Gortash could respond, a distant explosion thundered, its shockwaves rippling through the air.
The sound erupted from the direction of the Undercity Ruins, the very location of the Netherbrain. For a brief moment, fear flashed across Gortash's face — a raw, unguarded dread.
An unexpected sensation suddenly seized Karlach's group. It began as a faint tingling at the base of their skulls, growing rapidly into a sharp, almost electric pulse. They exchanged glances, a mutual understanding dawning upon them without a word being spoken.
Karlach reached up, touching the back of her head with a wince. "The tadpoles." She gasped, realization dawning in her eyes.
Astarion's usual composure flickered for a moment as he felt the sensation intensify. "Seems like our little… guests are checking out."
The frog-looking woman said something about a 'fitting end.' The human cleric closed her eyes in relief.
Sakura reappeared as abruptly as she had vanished. She casually tossed an object at Gortash's feet. "Found this." She announced nonchalantly.
Gortash's eyes widened in horror as he recognized the shattered remains of the Crown of Karsus lying before him. His voice broke into panicked denial. "No, no, no—"
Sakura, unfazed, continued. "Oh, and the brain? Destroyed that too. Honestly, I was expecting something more challenging." Her tone was dismissive.
Karlach's group stared at them with various levels of disbelief.
Astarion, leaning against the wall with an air of nonchalance, couldn't completely mask the slight quiver in his stance. "Well, that was… rather anticlimactic." He remarked, his voice betraying a hint of unease. "You have our thanks, however. Are you planning to dispose of us next? You certainly seem… more than capable."
Sakura raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "Huh? What for? Nah, we're finished here."
Boruto, eager to move on, chimed in. "Can we head back to the city now? I remember seeing a spyglass at one of the market stalls. It caught my eye. And they had comics, too."
"Sure, sure." Sakura nodded. Then she glanced at Karlach's group. "If you need help with your mechanical heart, or the vampire issue, feel free to reach out, preferably today, before we leave. Now that your cerebral guest is gone, your aversion to sunlight might return."
The four of them left.
Astarion pushed off from the wall, his usual composure returning as the immediate threat faded. He cast a last, lingering glance at the departing group, a mix of relief and contemplation in his eyes. A chance at freedom that didn't involve becoming a true vampire…? It was worth thinking about.
Shadowheart, the group's cleric, gave the room a final, thorough look. She seemed to internally reconcile the day's events. The end of the Netherbrain and the tadpole meant a new chapter for them all, one with fewer shadows lurking in their minds. And perhaps there would be a chance for Karlach to live, too. Which meant a new chapter for the two of them, as well.
Lae'zel, the formidable frog-like warrior, standing tall and stoic, gave Sakura and her group a respectful nod — a fellow warrior's nod.
Karlach and Shadowheart shared a moment of mutual understanding, their eyes meeting with a shared sense of tentative hope. A soft, understanding smile passed between them, as they acknowledged their possible future.
Then, Karlach's attention turned back to Gortash, her expression hardening. Gortash, desperate and cornered, pleaded, "No. Just… wait a minute. I…"
But his pleas fell on deaf ears. Nothing he said prevented her from obtaining her vengeance.
Rate Your Helper
Uzumaki Sakura
Path of the Warrior — Umigakure, Celestial Ring
Rating: 4/5
Ah, Sakura, crimson blossom. Should fate ever guide you to her swift hands, consider yourself fortunate.
My name is Astarion, once a creature of the night. For a century, I hunted for pretty morsels, but now I am reveling in the light, all thanks to her decisive intervention. Her prowess? Unmatched. Her aura? A captivating blend of deadly grace and enigmatic charm.
In our world of shadows and whispers, she moves with poise. Her strength lies not just in her lethal skills, but also in those captivating eyes. Those eyes, windows to a soul as determined as it is dangerous, are unforgettable.
But, Sakura, should you ever read this, allow me a small jest. I am keeping the final little star, my namesake, as a light-hearted ransom.
Why? A simple proposition — dinner under the sunlight you've helped me embrace again.
So, until our rendezvous, this rating remains a playful token, held in anticipation of an afternoon filled with intriguing conversation and the company of the most formidable human I have yet met — if indeed you are human.
[1,025 people found this comment useful]
"All right!" Sakura's grin was infectious — to Sarada. Hanabi was going to be so mad about her latest review. Too bad about the missing star, though. "Before we try to find a place to sleep — I'll drop you off tomorrow morning, Hermione — who here wants to see Boruto try on these Boots of Electric Shock?"
Boruto scowled. "Not me."
Hermione's voice rose in protest. "No one wants to see that!"
Mitsuki remained silent, because a lie among friends was often unneeded. He did want to see it, however.
Sarada chimed in, half-teasing. "I kind of do." Boruto's glare made her add the following, sighing: "For fairness, I'll try them after."
Boruto dismissed the idea. "Try them yourself. No need to wait for me."
Sakura sighed. "How else are you going to master your Lightning affinity…?"
"Did Uncle really go through this?" Boruto asked dubiously.
Sakura shrugged. "I mean, no. But he was barely older than you are now when the Raikage of the time beat the shit out of him — I'm sure Naruto's still kinda peeved about that. That's how my husband learned the Lightning Armor, I think. But sure…" She sighed. "Be like that about a pair of weak jolt-boots…"
Boruto sighed. "Give me the frick—… damned boots."
Sakura grinned. "Oh, you are your uncles' nephew. And Kage's son, truly."
"…Are you insulting me?"
"No." Sakura said. "I actually like these guys. And you guys, too."
Sarada's smile shone like the morning sun.
Boruto sighed wearily. "Yeah… I care about you too, Auntie. No, please — not the head pats!"
The night air was crisp and clear, and a tapestry of stars twinkled above as the trio settled into their cozy spot on the hill overlooking the village.
It was refreshing, especially when compared to the inn's nearly stifling warmth. Mitsuki was sleeping, or at least was pretending to — he had given Boruto this disturbing wink of his before yawning audibly — and Sakura was off running errands. Boruto could not remember seeing her sleep, ever.
There was a pond of water nearby, and it seemed nearly black under the night sky. It lay entirely still, undisturbed by wind. Boruto, Sarada and Hermione climbed a fallen stone and laid upon it.
The hustle of the day had faded away, leaving only the soft whispers of nature and the distant glow of the city's lights.
Boruto, lying back on the stone, hands behind his head, gazed up at the endless sky, a sense of peace washing over him. "It's a different world, here." He mused, his voice low and thoughtful. "And there are so many more. It's almost hard to believe, at times."
"Like you've been dreaming?" Sarada asked.
"…For me too." Hermione said. She pointed at the constellations. "This one looks like Orion." She said, tracing the pattern with her finger, a soft trail of light following her finger. "…Except it's not."
Sarada sat cross-legged, her dark eyes reflecting the celestial dance above. "It's pretty nice, isn't it?" She whispered, more to herself than to the others. Her usually stern expression softened in the starlight.
Boruto grinned. "It's not bad, but not even half as good as the skies above the Ring."
Hermione smiled, too. "I wouldn't go that far."
The three friends fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Sarada broke the silence, her voice tinged with the slightest touch of wonder. "I'd like to see more of them." She said, her gaze still fixed on the heavens.
Boruto turned his head to look at her. "All right." He said.
"…Just like that?"
"We'll explore the worlds together." His words were a promise, a shared dream among the three of them. "If you're up for it, too, Hermione, we can wait until you're done with school — or your holidays."
Hermione chuckled, nearly helplessly. "I… Okay."
Sarada smiled, a soft, genuine smile that lit up her face. "I'd like that, too."
Neither of them spoke for a moment, and Boruto could feel their warmth, close to him. The air smelled like ripe fruits and distant bonfires.
Boruto grinned and made a fist at the stars.
"Great! Now we just have to ask Mitsuki!"
lensdump:
i/smbVbk : Boruto's No Good Aunties