I never truly believed in fate. There are people, however, whose significance in your life is undeniable from the moment you meet. Good or bad.

On the twentieth of April, during the 211th year of the Fire Cycle, Uzumaki Tenjin, Konoha's latest master Sealweaver, who had been dispatched to the East a few days earlier, died. I suppose this might also have been a good starting point for our story.

Now, as for Konoha's answer, it was a selection. Two children.

Shinpachi was the obvious first choice to eventually replace Tenjin. Who else, truly? Myself? I fell short of the exacting standards, and it was becoming painfully clear that I might never reach them, certainly not in time.

As for the other child to be selected, well...

戯

け

者

6 — FOOL

OVER THE NEXT DAYS after Naruto received the shikigami known soberly as Monkey, a fair amount of time was wasted.

The reason for it was simple: he couldn't figure out how it worked.

It wasn't that Naruto was particularly slow, either in mind or body, far from it; nor was there a true scarcity of information on shikigami to be found in the archives. It wasn't a matter of effort either, because he lost more sleep than anyone should ever lose, trying to make it work. The real issue was the nature of the data available: it primarily focused on crafting one's own shikigami. The scant passages that didn't delve into this topic either discussed the Four Heavenly Kings, shikigami passed down the line of Uzushio's most trusted guardians, or the Twelve Sacred Beasts, several of which were rumored to be lost.

None of the texts provided insights on how to synchronize one's chakra with a tag that wasn't originally designed to be shared — perhaps it was too specific. And now, what had initially appeared as a boon brought its own set of challenges.

In other words, Naruto got nowhere.

Thoroughly frustrated with his lack of progress in nearly every area of his training, and more than slightly sleep-deprived, Naruto was unexpectedly relieved when he was summoned for one of Uzushio's ritual fishing trips.

Indeed, although these outings were about as close as Naruto ever got to seeing the outside world, he only felt a shadow of his former curiosity about them, by now. That day, their group (of which there were ten) included a seasoned Sea Master named Shōzō, who was a known bearer of Sealed Armor (once one of the things that made Uzushio shinobi a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield, self-regenerating armor that could be summoned at will; now mostly ornamental, although being allowed to bear one still meant something); and two others close to his age: Shinpachi, and Yuriko's daughter.

Naruto had never really gotten to know Yuriko personally, but he had grown quite comfortable with her elderly grandmother, who kindly repaired his clothing after his frequent accidents. Kushina, on the other hand, had a more direct connection to all three generations, being good friends with Yuriko herself. Thus, he mostly knew that girl as Yuriko's daughter.

When the daughter in question spoke, the topic of conversation, however, centered around someone else. The girl, clearly animated, spoke up. "Yasaka was here?"

Naruto gave a small, numb nod. He was conflicted about his sister's (sister in a way) habit of vanishing as quickly as she appeared, especially now, with the freshness of her latest departure and their mother's (mother in a way) seemingly worsening illness. It felt too much like she was fleeing from their troubles, although maybe he was unjustified in feeling that way. Despite this, he knew Yasaka was loved by many. A selfish part of him ached to keep her all to himself. What else did he have, really?

Karin seemed rather nice, of course, for what little he knew of her, but what did she truly know of Yasaka, aside from her (accidentally) mysterious allure...?

Yasaka was undoubtedly strong, and charming too, but she was also an older sister — in less glamorous ways. Karin knew nothing about his sister's knack for using Naruto's favorite kunai as makeshift gardening tools, often returning them just a bit too dull and always at the most inconvenient times. If not losing them outright and sheepishly promising to replace them, that was. Her infuriating (and shared by both Naruto and Kushina, admittedly) habit of spacing out during conversations could leave him speaking to thin air mid-sentence. Or the thousand other annoying things she did.

"Yeah. She was here," Naruto simply said. "But she left a while ago. It was still winter — I think."

"Oh." Karin seemed to deflate, and she trailed off. "I was hoping she'd give another class..."

Although Naruto knew exactly what she meant, he wouldn't have called that sort of spirited improvisation a class. That time, Yasaka had gathered an audience of slightly starstruck children and teenagers, and tried and failed to give a coherent explanation of elemental chakra natures. Her words had tangled like vines as she leaped from fire to water, then air to earth without connecting any dots.

And even then, perhaps if Naruto hadn't spotted the dog-eared copy of the book about exactly that topic in Yasaka's room ('Elements and You, Fourth Edition')... perhaps then he'd still have been somewhat impressed.

So Naruto simply nodded. "I see. I'm sorry that she left without saying anything." Again. He paused. "I'll try to warn you next time she comes...?"

Karin beamed at him. "Really?"

He was a bit taken aback by her enthusiasm, admittedly. "Uh, sure. I don't know if she'll ever do anything like that again, but..."

He trailed off, because his sister rarely bothered with doing the same thing twice, academics even less.

Yasaka, in fact, seldom read any book that she didn't require (aside from mostly nonsensical romance she had gleaned from the five corners of the world), as she was a big believer in figuring most things on her own. Her knowledge of most subjects she didn't consider that serious tended to be a mashup of half-remembered facts, sometimes irrelevant or out of context, that she believed she had probably read somewhere. It meant that anything Yasaka said was by nature bound to be original, tied together in a nice-looking knot (if you didn't look at it too closely), sometimes cross-examined by her good friend Junko, or perhaps Kushina.

Shinpachi chose this moment to intervene.

His astonishingly bright blue eyes looked up at Naruto, away from the spell cards he was usually seen tinkering with. Some part of Naruto was jealous, admittedly — they were nearly opaque to him, and he knew they weren't to the other boy. The cards themselves were one of Uzushio's most revered arts, and Shinpachi would only ever grow more and more familiar with them. At the young age of nine, even younger than Naruto, he'd already been branded a budding Sealweaving master. Part of Naruto loathed him because he couldn't possibly understand.

He felt guilty for that, however. Shinpachi, unlike some others (Suzaku), didn't lord his privilege all over others. He was rather humble, even, quiet, and impassible at most times.

"She wants to become like Miss Yasaka," Shinpachi said and then glanced away entirely.

"You want to be like her?" Naruto asked her dubiously. "...Why?"

Karin's face scrunched up. "And what's wrong with that?"

He could think of a few things, honestly. From the time she was a messy kid who used to flick boogers in dark corners (according to Naruto's mother), to when she convinced half the children her age that a ghost haunted the old bridge, and in doing so, disrupted lessons for more than a few days — Yasaka had always been something else. So, sure, she was clever (in this slightly crazed way of hers), and prodigious, too, impressive (at times). But inspiring? That was a stretch. "...Nothing."

"You definitely had something in mind!"

He thought about the best way to put it. "Yasaka's insane."

Karin scowled harder. "She's not!"

"No, no, you don't get it — She says it herself," Naruto said. ("I'm insane," she said to Naruto once, with that infuriating, slightly smarmy grin. "It's part of my charm. You wouldn't get it, cause you're boring. Boooring.")

"There's nothing wrong with being insane, then!" Karin asserted. "She's one of the best kunoichi—"

"Around," Naruto said. "She's one of the best kunoichi you've met."

A pause.

"...That I've met," Karin echoed grudgingly.

There was another pause. The corner of Karin's mouth lifted in a rueful smile, as though she knew she'd been had. She relaxed and grinned, and her cheeks reddened a bit.

"I get it. She's cool," Naruto admitted.

Karin sniffed. "She's very cool."

Although he still wasn't sure what to make of Shinpachi, Naruto instantly decided he liked Karin.

It was the usual ritual that saw them lowered to the sea, of course.

At dawn, the islands halted their horizontal movement and lowered. On the edge of the westernmost sky island of Uzushiogakure, Koujinshima, the clouds below seemed painted in shades of orange and lilac, and that was how the Fishing Ceremony began. High above the ocean, yet closer than usual, so far from the mainland they were hidden from prying eyes, the Sea Masters gathered at the western rim, where the Sky Cradle Winches stood watch.

These towering structures, carved from the island's heartwood and etched with runes and symbols of protection, hummed with the low resonance of chakra as it flowed through them. The Sea Masters, in their ceremonial robes, moved with reverence. A precise gesture; a measured step.

Misato, who was one of them, stepped forward, voice steady as she invoked the blessings of the sea gods.

The winches creaked and groaned under the weight of the boats as they were carefully loaded into the cradles, right before the load-bearing seals triggered and most of the weight was lifted — old, traditional seals, rather inefficient in comparison to more modern ones. Woven from the golden threads of sky silk and hardened with the resin of celestial pines, the nets themselves were said to be sacred vessels. In the same way, the boats lay cradled, like offerings to the gods.

Or so it was said.

Even now, Naruto wondered how much of it truly had been needed. How many of the old traditions were for the sake of something that mattered, and how many of them were mere posturing, how many of them had led many in the Land of Fire to believe Uzumaki to be a superstitious bunch (only half justified, in truth, as later events would prove). To shroud in mysticism something that perhaps hadn't needed to be.

The sun crested the horizon, and the winches began their descent. The ropes, imbued with chakra, glowed faintly as more of their length was unfurled out of a half-open storage seal gate. The portal in question cast a surreal light over the face of Shōzō, for one. The descent was slow, almost graceful, and the boats floated downwards through a curtain of mist that bridged sky and sea.

There was the sound of waves, the smell of sea salt, and the unforgiving heat of the ocean. A wall of sheer humidity, as the boats approached the water's surface. Blue in every direction, as far as the eye could see, the ocean sprawled vast and endless.

Vertigo wasn't something most Uzumaki suffered from, usually — although there were some cases — and soon enough, ten boats touched the water, sending ripples across the sea.

Shōzō, standing at the helm of one of the ten vessels, initiated the fishing ritual. The ten Sea Masters and their apprentices — as well as those simply on duty today, like Naruto and the other two — gathered around, forming a semicircle around their leaders.

Shōzō then cleared his throat, preparing to chant the ancient invocations that were believed to please the sea gods and ensure a bountiful catch. He lifted a slender, rune-carved rod, dipped it into the ocean, and swirled it gently, creating patterns that shimmered with faint, chakra-induced luminescence.

"O spirits of the deep, guardians of the ocean's bounty," Shōzō intoned, his voice rising above the sound of the waves. "Hearken to our plea, receive our reverent homage, and bestow upon us the abundance of your sacred waters."

It was as meticulous as it was fastidious. With each movement and word, centuries of tradition. They were meant to honor the spirits of the sea and the ancestors who had fished these waters before them, undoubtedly. Whether the Uzumaki really had been around here or not seemed rather secondary. Shōzō's colleagues, mimicking his actions with their rods, were dancing that same dance of reverence, a thing of age-old custom.

Naruto found himself struggling to appreciate the ceremonial aspects of the ritual. He knew that Uzushio had long developed more efficient ways of fishing — methods that employed modern seals to locate and gather fish within minutes, or less. Standing there, watching the slow, deliberate motions and the chanted pleas to unseen deities, he felt a twinge of annoyance.

"Why all this fuss?" Naruto muttered under his breath. Karin, who was standing beside him, was participating in the ritual just as he was. "We could have filled three boats by now with the seal nets."

He noticed her bite her lip to prevent herself from laughing, and some of his annoyance lessened. Perhaps it wasn't all so bad, in the end.

Shinpachi, who had heard him as well, shrugged. "It's about respect. Respect for the old ways and the sea. Not everything has to be about efficiency."

Spoken like a real Life-Spirit, instead of a Sealweaver.

Naruto sighed, his gaze drifting over the expanse of blue, shimmering under the rising sun. "...Yeah," he muttered, and although he understood the importance of tradition, of connecting with the past, the practical part of him, the part that had been frustrated by the slow progress in his training, that part found it difficult to reconcile these beliefs with the urgency of his life, with his mother's worsening condition. "I guess not."

To truly understand what it felt like, he supposed one would have to be going through something similar, which Naruto would not wish upon anyone. Otherwise, how could you possibly convince people who felt as though they were running out of time that wasting more of it was somehow important? It would take a few neat artifices, if not outright lies — and some of those had a way of ruining everything, for everyone.

Feeling like a bit of a failure, which was rather frequent by now, Naruto walked upon the sea using chakra and set to work, and most of the morning was a blur of near-scalding heat, tinged in salt — equal parts seawater and sweat. Ropes, waves, and fish; everyone toiled for hours.

Shōzō called for a break, and gave them a pleased corner of a smile, before going back on the sea. Across the water and further away, Naruto could see some men must have caught something big — they were struggling with it, and the water was tinted red. The three children sat on the boat, which was unfortunately not cooled off by seals as it could have been, to recover both their strength and some of their chakra — the latter usually took more time. It didn't do much about Naruto's sleepiness, but that could always be addressed later tonight.

Karin opened a bag she said her grandmother had prepared "for the three of them," before Naruto could retrieve his food. These days, he still remembered the taste of spiced fish rolls, a staple dish of Uzushio. Seasoned rice and grilled fish, wrapped in a crisp, seaweed sheet that crackled slightly as one bit into it. It was the sort of comfort food Naruto missed from his homeland.

He told Karin something along these lines, more or less.

"Oh, yeah?" Karin asked with a grin. "You like grandma's food? That's funny because she says she never measures anything."

"...How's that funny?" Naruto asked.

"Well, 'ya know." Karin scrunched her face minutely. It was rather cute. "Everyone knows you're kinda weird about counting things."

"Am not," Naruto muttered. Idly, he wondered when and why his mother had told on him.

"In any case, she says that's the secret ingredient — not counting, I mean."

"Not love?" Shinpachi asked, tilting his head.

Karin waved the suggestion off. Naruto was surprised to notice how familiar with one another the two seemed. There was almost none of Shinpachi's usual stiltedness, whenever he spoke to Karin. And he looked his age, too, instead of this peculiar blend of... smooth skin and old eyes. Karin was bright, and loud, and her smile made him want to smile as well. She and Shinpachi were pleasant, and idly, somewhat achingly, Naruto wondered how many nice people he was missing out on, too busy with—

"Bah!" she said, laughing. "You can't quantify love either, Shin-chan!"

Shinpachi huffed, and a half-grin revealed more of his impish side than Naruto had ever seen. "Someday I will. Just for that."

"How would you do that?" Naruto asked because his amusement prevented him from overthinking it. "Holding onto a concept is..." He thought about it for a second, and Shinpachi's eyes were upon him, bright and curious. "Well, not impossible impossible, I guess, but... Nearly? That would be like trying to... seal strength for later."

Karin laughed again. "If anyone can learn to measure love, it would be Wonderboy."

"Please don't call me that," Shinpachi said easily. The nickname was fitting, however, and for once, Naruto couldn't bring himself to feel even remotely peeved about the reminder. "I'm only good with spell cards."

Naruto never said anything aloud, but Karin's next words answered a question he hadn't been about to ask anyway.

"Good enough for Konoha," she said, and it confirmed Naruto's hunch.

"You are going, then?" he asked the slightly younger boy.

Shinpachi shrugged, probably more self-consciously than he intended. "Yes."

"Are you not happy about it?"

To Naruto, who was ready to do anything to get out of here, all the reasons one could have for wanting to stay felt muted. It was the pure, undiluted envy of a child. Shinpachi thought about it, and for a moment, Naruto expected one of his usual non-answers.

"...Quite frankly, it's a bit terrifying," Shinpachi said, and Naruto blinked.

"Terrifying...?"

"Well..." Shinpachi looked away. "It means leaving my parents, my family... And everything I have ever known."

Although Naruto didn't have much in the way of family here, aside from his mother — and a few distant relatives neither of them talked to anymore — he tried to understand, to put himself in Shinpachi's jika-tabi. "It doesn't have to be forever," he said. "You could come back."

Karin gave him a wistful look. "...Maybe."

"Are you so sure about this?" Shinpachi's voice was a murmur, low and laced with doubt. "When was the last time anyone saw Lady Mito in Uzushio?"

Naruto had no good answer to that.

"Ah, well," Karin said, with a forced cheer. "I suppose we can just become so good they will allow us to bring our family there, someday." Her nonchalant shrug belied her true feelings. "In the meantime, there are always letters."

Her words fell casually, but they struck Naruto with unexpected force.

'Us.'

There she stood, the second, the last chosen child. Not Suzaku, not even Itsuki. Yuriko's daughter, Karin. Already selected. Shinpachi was one thing, and as inevitable as the setting sun. This, however...

He scrambled mentally for something to say, something nice or congratulatory, anything that wouldn't reveal the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. His hands trembled visibly, and he marveled at the sheer effort required to still them. Now, there was no way at all.

Karin looked at him oddly. "You're looking a bit pale. Are you alright? Sun poisoning is no joke, 'ya know..."

He nodded, afraid to trust his voice. Karin. Karin was to be the second Sealweaver sent away. His mother would die, unless Yasaka, no, unless a miracle occurred. His emotions scorched through him, leaving him to retreat into his tumultuous thoughts.

Words failed him completely.

It was only later — far too late for anything but a hastily made, unchangeable binding — that Naruto would understand the rippling effect of this particular silence. By not pushing a little further, by failing to ask her just a few crucial questions, he overlooked something rather important:

Karin had shown aptitude for the two other branches of their art, but not for Sealweaving.

Just like him, in a way. And that, too, made him a fool.

Knowing the political tensions between the involved villages, the negotiations must have been tense. But ultimately, the decision was made: Karin's role was envisioned as more than merely a substitute. She was designated as Shinpachi's guardian, her healing talents deemed more vital to him and Konoha than those of any second-rate Sealweaver.

The Elders of both Konoha and Uzushio had concurred, and so had their Kage. On paper, their strategy seemed impeccable, and sound to all involved. Karin was indeed the ideal backup.

Perfect, in every conceivable way.

The afternoon after Karin shattered Naruto's hopes was spent in much the same way as the morning before: fishing.

It was done more silently this time, and although Karin tried to engage Naruto a few times, he felt rather relieved by the time they began diving deeper, wearing chakra-based rebreathers, for creatures that their nets couldn't catch — large squids, bluenose warehou, and swelling thornyheads, among others.

There was not much to be said about how windy the sea had become that day, of how bothersome the salt that stuck to his skin felt, so Naruto passed on that.

Perhaps the diving itself was more important. That, too, might have been a decent starting point for the tale.

It's worth noting that most Uzumaki were seasoned divers, well-versed in the ways of the sea and possessive of their specialized sealed equipment, making them almost as skilled underwater as Kiri's people. Among the Elemental Nations — at least to those who still remembered them — they were considered experts.

Anyone who went on fishing assignments — most healthy citizens — even more so. Whether navigating coral mazes, engaging in night dives, or exploring sunken shipwrecks, an Uzumaki's training left little room for fear in the depths of the ocean.

Long before they dwelled in the skies, they had been of the sea, after all.

Thus, when Naruto emerged from beneath a dark rock near a sunlit cave, rather deep underwater, he was unafraid. He swam closer, not to enter — for he was well aware of the dangers — but to take a closer look, expecting to find fish.

The reasons for avoiding cave entry were straightforward:

A cave meant a challenging overhead environment where upward escape was impossible. In any emergency, a diver had to resolve the issue on-site or face a potentially long and hazardous swim in order to exit.

Orientation was more challenging in caves, even those illuminated by sunlight like this one, due to limited natural light sources and often absent water currents to aid in navigation. A diver had to rely on exceptional mental mapping to avoid getting lost.

Cave dives typically ran deeper and longer than open water dives, and because of it, required meticulous management of ascent and decompression to prevent decompression sickness. This required adjusting the gas mixture in the diver's mask — which typically was a blend of air, oxygen, and helium. Using the incorrect gas mix at the wrong depth could prove fatal within minutes.

Moreover, caves often had silty floors or muddy waters. Any less-than-perfect technique could stir up a cloud of sediment, obscuring visibility and complicating the dive. That was without counting on external factors, of course.

In summary, despite the allure of the cave, Naruto wisely chose not to venture inside.

Instead, he merely took a closer look. If the rune attached to the back of his wrist, the one linked to his rebreather, flared orange (or red), it would be time to head back up. For now, he scanned the area for fish and admired the breathtaking view.

The water around him seemed to grow slightly warmer, a subtle change that didn't immediately raise concern.

After what felt like a mere few moments, in which the temperature rose to something rather unusual, a sound caught his attention, prompting him to look up.

A glimpse of red hair floated above him, but having stared into the darkness for a while made it hard to discern who it was or what they were gesturing for. The sunlight streaming down felt blinding by contrast now, turning even faces that should have been familiar into mere shadows. His thoughts felt sluggish, and even that sensation was…

When he tried to check the color indicator on his wrist, the shades seemed to blur together — muddy brown, oscillating between green and something he wasn't quite sure counted as orange. He stared at it for a few moments, trying to make sense of it, but the glare of it wouldn't still, and that one too, felt blinding.

It felt as though his brain could not make full sense of anything, right now. Laughter, vertigo. He turned towards the light, swimming up toward the red hair, hoping for clarity.

But something was off.

It took him a moment to notice, but eventually, he did: the water was far too clear for this depth.

A shaft of light splintered painfully in his vision. Everything was quiet underwater.

The problem was the clarity. This deceptive clarity; it had lured him deeper than he should have gone. Believing the cave lay only about twenty meters below, he had unknowingly swum more than twice that distance, misled by the unnatural expanse before him. The realization that his senses had betrayed him came too late; the increased depth meant greater pressure and his grasp on the situation began to truly unravel from there, with a flash of mirth — which part of this was funny, however, he couldn't fully say.

What he had failed to grasp, however, was the reason that person with the long red hair had been signaling frantically.

Nearly sick, now. The glance upward had not only blinded him but had also disoriented him in another way, disrupting his sense of motion and position further. He tried to compensate for it, but those precious seconds spent adjusting only carried him deeper.

His thoughts were sluggish, his vision narrowed, and still, there was an odd sense of hilarity to his predicament.

It felt rather nice, almost euphoric in fact, to look up towards the surface. He was tempted to roll over on his back and simply watch the sunlight dance through the water. The peace was overwhelming; the world felt serene and beautiful — nothing could possibly go wrong. Peaceful. So utterly peaceful. The world was all so beautiful. Nothing could ever—

No.

Naruto recognized the signs abruptly: he didn't know how bad it was, only that he was too deep already.

He figured out the reason for his predicament then. The difficulty in reading the color indicator, as well as this unwelcome euphoria, was the rapture of the deep. Nitrogen narcosis setting in; depth intoxication.

Panic finally set in. How deep was he? How deep had he been, before? Surely deep enough to require decompression stops, but possibly also deep enough for oxygen toxicity.

He swam toward the light, but a current was pulling him sideways. His head burned with pressure, and the light from the sun seemed further and further away, and the rays, coming down at an odd angle, were entirely distorted. His oxygen consumption increased with depth, and the current wasted his remaining stamina. His day of fishing had already drained him, and now he questioned whether he had enough oxygen — or chakra to power his seals — for the necessary decompression stops.

There was pressure on his eardrums, steadily increasing, and soon he had no idea in what direction he was going; another lost concept.

He bumped into something, head first.

Everything was spiraling out of control. He tried to think. Was it a plateau? It couldn't be; those were too shallow for this depth. Unless...

Was he going down? Had it been a current pushing him sideways, or had he been sinking all along? Was it the reason why the person with the red hair had been signaling?

And if he had sunk deep enough for this to be a plateau, his buoyancy would be low, decreasing further as the pressure mounted. With enough chakra, he might have been able to refill his air pockets and counteract the pull, but right now...? His breaths grew shallower, and shallower still, even as he slammed against something solid, crumpling.

There was no way to get up, and it was getting more and more exhausting to even move. Everything felt so heavy; the world was tinted a hazy red, so confusing that he could barely remember what he was supposed to do in the first place.

His oxygen supply dwindled dangerously fast, with no clear way up.

And part of him realized this might well be it: there was none of the earlier haze of pleasantness. He would die there, a fool, and this would be all there was to it. A simple accident.

His muscles were screaming, his brain was screaming, and his heart was, too. It was becoming harder and harder to suck a breath out. The rage and the frustration bubbled together with this feeling of helplessness.

But even that felt exhausting. He knew he should keep his strength, and yet he was becoming too weary to do anything at all. Attempting to stand, he collapsed in a tangle of limbs. With no power, no chakra, and nothing to power the ingenious seals that would help him breathe and think again, he was simply a delicate, fragile thing, never meant to go deep into the waters.

Moments later, from far away in the immense, cold darkness, he thought he heard a faint, rattling sound, distorted by the deep sea. Something, sliding along his wrist; barely noticed in his current state.

And then, there was warmth.

Heat and light. A mysterious force that soothed his pain and restored his strength progressively. Too tired to even shiver at the almost burning sensation, Naruto, who only wanted to sleep, let it fill him instead.

When Naruto regained some awareness, some of his chakra had somehow been restored, and there was no sign of whoever — or whatever — had come to his aid. He half-wondered if he had died after all, and was now hallucinating this. Not fully trusting his lungs or his mind, he began to plan his careful ascent.

He felt nearly numb with shock, and aimless, too. Though it wasn't his first brush with death, the memory of the last time felt distant and dreamlike, offering little comfort now. It was like something just out of reach, something he could almost touch with his fingertips if he could get just a little closer — but not something he could bear to think about.

Today felt much the same: hazy, numbed by some primal instinct. Just a bit too awful to grasp in its entirety at that moment. The kind of realization that would hit later, perhaps in solitude, when the wind had quieted for the day, when the waves stilled their relentless dance when nothing felt the same as before, and that difference would endure.

He swam up.

He swam past schools of indifferent fish. He swam up, pausing at each necessary decompression stop. He swam up, his mind foggy, focusing on the rhythm of his movements, even as everything felt unreal.

He swam up, trying not to think or remember.

It was Karin. Although Naruto couldn't fathom how exactly she had managed it, she had been the one to help him.

When he broke the surface, with deliberate slowness, and the waves remained much the same as they always were, Karin was the only anxious face there; hushed and waiting. The rest of their group was still submerged, undoubtedly oblivious to the events below.

Fishing.

If anyone else from the other groups had noticed, they gave no sign of it. A fellow diver, a young man just a bit older than Naruto with tanned arms, gave him a brief nod before slipping back into the depths and vanishing from sight.

Still fishing.

The sun was slowly dipping toward the horizon, casting an orange glow over the water, and only a single person seemed aware of how close he had come to never seeing another sunset. An accident. A fishing accident would have made him nothing more than one more of the fluttering fabric banners that hung from bamboo poles at the islands' edges, swaying in the wind. This time, when laughter bubbled in his throat, Naruto didn't choke back on it. He laughed, quite hysterically, and Karin's silence was eerie. He laughed, heat rising in his chest before turning to a sudden chill, until the first tears slipped down his cheeks, and he wiped them away hastily.

"Are you…" Karin began, sounding more unsure than he had heard her before.

"I am fine."

"Are you sure?"

Of course, he wasn't. What was there to say? It was still too new, too fresh; still before this close call would leave him with more than just a deepened dislike for fishing. As for diving, though he knew he'd never feel quite as sure of himself again, it was something he'd have to push past eventually. There were places only a skilled diver could reach — something men like the Third Hokage were all too aware of.

Laughter, vertigo. Vague shapes popped in and out of the water, and Naruto tried his best not to disengage from Karin's words, which felt grounding in a way he couldn't explain. Seemingly unsure what to do, Karin held out some food for him to eat — rice and tuna, and he felt at a loss to even describe how bland it felt. He ate mechanically, the flavors dull on his tongue. Karin watched him with a mixture of concern and something else — was it fear? — that made her eyes look bigger, more vivid; nearly crimson.

She sat near him, and he ate in silence. Or near silence, rather.

"Maybe you should lie down," she said, and she was still rather pale.

"You're right. Maybe I should."

"You're healed, but someone still has to take a closer look, and that's going to be a few hours, and…" Karin bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder and at the waters as if wondering whether to warn anyone. "Will you really be fine?"

"I guess I'll have to, won't I?"

That very same silence was looming between them again.

"This is all quite strange to me too, you know," Naruto said in a rather neutral tone, a bit rougher than he had expected it to be. "I used to love swimming."

The absurdity of the statement seemed a sharp thing: this time, and just as abruptly as he had before, Karin laughed. A startled sound that seemed to surprise even her. She then shifted closer, her knees drawn up to her chest as she wrapped her arms around them. "Well, I nearly drowned too, once."

Part of him now wondered if he really had been about to drown, in truth, because it was a strange notion to take in. He wondered whether she was trying to distract him; whether it was working. "You did?"

Karin nodded, her smile a little hesitant now as she glanced at the sea, seeing something he couldn't see in its depths. "Yes, when I was younger. I was reckless and tried to swim too far out. The current was stronger than I expected. It pulled me under a couple of times."

"How did you get back?" Naruto asked, the food forgotten.

"A fisherman saw me struggling. He pulled me into his boat." Her eyes met his, filled with a mixture of humor and something darker, perhaps a shadow of the fear she had felt that day. "I was so embarrassed, I barely spoke to him. Just muttered a thanks and walked off as soon as we ascended again." She paused, wincing. "…I don't think I ever got around to thanking him, actually."

This time, Naruto chuckled. "All right. I… Yeah." He shook his head. "Well, I'll save us some time. Thank you, Karin."

She leaned back against the back of the boat, looking at him slightly curiously. At the same time, and although her eyes were slightly red (more than just the rather fetching color of her irises), the way she looked at him made it seem as though she had figured him out entirely. "Don't thank me yet, that tuna was quite old. That's what Mom said, at least. I wasn't supposed to give that to you. Or to anyone, really."

She punctuated her words with a friendly elbow to his ribs, though it landed a bit harder than she likely intended. Even that small gesture spoke volumes about her, revealing more than a casual touch normally would. For a moment, though he couldn't quite put it into words, he felt as if he could glimpse the world through her bright eyes; a vast, dangerous place, massive as the indifferent ocean, and just as full of heavy waves. He understood her way of coping with it all, with the weight of her looming duty to it: embracing the chaos, the absurdity, instead of swimming against the tide.

Slightly amazed, he knew some of that must have shone through, because he found himself smiling.

Karin raised an eyebrow. "What, you find this funny? I've got better jokes in my pocket, actually, just wait until Shin-chan gets back here — he's a decent straight man, I guess."

He laughed, and for what now felt like the first time today, it was an honest sound, and nearly devoid of worry.

And Karin, who now had less than a few hours left to live, laughed with him.

Shinpachi came back to the boat first, and Shōzō last.

By the time they had grouped, most of Naruto's earlier fatigue had somehow dissipated. When he asked Karin about it, she only winked at him, calling it a trade secret, or rather something she might tell him about later.

Though Naruto had dreaded the prospect of Karin revealing his earlier accident to them and had agonized about what to tell them about it, she said nothing. There were none of the uncomfortable conversations Naruto had expected. Shōzō nodded at the three of them and thanked them for joining today. Shinpachi, however, stared at Naruto for a moment. "So?"

Naruto played along, albeit awkwardly. "…So?"

"How did today go for you?"

Naruto shrugged, deflecting. "Not too great."

"Slow day, huh?" Shinpachi's response was sympathetic, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"You could say that."

Shinpachi exhaled softly, a hint of disappointment in his breath, aimed at himself. "Didn't catch much myself."

"I thought this wasn't about efficiency?" Naruto asked him, and Shinpachi's brow furrowed slightly at having his own words thrown back at him.

"That's alright in any case," Karin said amusedly, but firmly, moving away from that line of discussion. "We did what we came to do."

Shōzō didn't nod, not truly. He simply inclined his head slightly toward them. "Indeed, we toiled well today."

While Shōzō's expression remained inscrutable as he turned away, Karin, with a playful glint in her eye, clasped her hands behind her back and mimicked his stoic stance. The accuracy of her imitation drew a burst of high-pitched laughter from Shinpachi.

From Shōzō's unimpressed glance back, he was aware of it, and Karin offered him a sheepish apology, which he accepted with another curt nod, perhaps understanding her intent to lighten the mood, or perhaps her playful spirits had permeated even his stoic manner some.

As a matter of fact, Karin seemed to be doing her best to keep Naruto's mind off a few dreary matters, such as the day's earlier perils, and true to her word, Shinpachi did have a sense of humor. She managed to draw out Shinpachi's lighter side, at least, which in turn, coaxed a few genuine smiles from Naruto.

It was fun, somehow.

The time to rise back up to the islands slowly came, and they waited for the last men and women still in the water. "See?" Naruto asked, wiping sweat off his brow with a towel. "This heat is exactly the sort of thing we could use seals for."

Shinpachi raised an eyebrow. "That's a rather advanced application."

"Not like we have advanced seals in Uzushio, right?" Naruto grumbled good-naturedly.

"I think you're more patient than you let on," Karin said with a smile. "I'm sure you can handle a little warmth."

Warmth.

Naruto paused, the humor fading slightly for some reason he couldn't fully articulate. It felt like being doused in near-freezing water.

He hesitated before speaking. "Actually… don't you think it was unusually hot today?" When Shinpachi gave him an odd look, Naruto reddened slightly, but he went on. "I — I don't know how to say it, and I'm not sure whether…" He trailed off, unsure where he was going with this himself.

"What are you getting at?" Shinpachi asked, genuinely puzzled.

Karin took mercy on Naruto, bopping Shinpachi on the head. "Give him a moment, will you?"

Naruto struggled for words, his thoughts jumbled. "It's just... down there, in the water — and here, too. Isn't it kinda strange?"

"Ah. Yeah, it was kinda warm. That's weird," Karin said, in something that wasn't quite realization. Naruto still didn't know what he was trying to express exactly, and Shinpachi glanced between the two in slight scrutiny. "I think I get what you're trying to say, maybe?"

Shinpachi nodded, but he didn't seem to have felt the same way — if Karin had at all. "…The water was too warm, then?"

"No!" Naruto shook his head, his frustration evident. "Well, yes. Also, but — Damn it! I don't know what it is, but something felt off, down there. Not just the heat, but the way the water moved, how it stuck to me. And it was strangely clear, too."

Shōzō seemed to be paying him attention, too, and although his arms were folded and his eyes elsewhere, the feeling was unmistakable. Karin leaned back toward the water with a thoughtful expression and dipped a hand in it.

"Too warm…?" Karin asked, scrunching her face in thought.

Naruto wished for a few things, of course.

Karin was a sweet girl, and she had a future as bright as any talented ninja could have, although it might seem like a pessimistic thing, all things considered. She would be safe in Konoha. She wasn't like Naruto. With her sharp senses, it would be easy enough to notice that something was off before the sky turned black, to put on a burst of unmatched speed and somehow enter Shinpachi's protective bubble. The three of them would be tossed between air and sea, yes, a terrifying dance with fate, certainly, but that man would save them anyway, and although there would be rough days ahead, and funerals too, all three of them would pull through together, becoming as close-knit as only the most dreadful of circumstances could allow for.

"Some slow day, huh," Shinpachi would say in grim humor, at a slightly unfortunate time — for it was during the burial of a man they hadn't known, and they would all laugh, a nervous, breathless laughter that skirted the edge of hysteria…

Together, they would find their way to Konoha, where fate would kindly lead them to Senju Tsunade. Either Naruto or Yasaka or maybe even Karin would persuade her to lend her legendary healing abilities to save Kushina, and as months turned to seasons, the once vivid nightmare would fade, becoming nothing more than a distant, hellish memory, of which the edges had already blurred with the passage of time.

By the time they reached the age of sixteen and thus became eligible to become full-fledged shinobi under Konoha's guidelines, each of them would have demonstrated remarkable aptitude in their respective arts. Whether it involved Sealweaving or some other shinobi craft, it wouldn't matter — because life would be about more than just survival or prowess. Kushina would thrive, Yuriko would not be teetering on the brink of madness, and Karin, dear, resilient Karin, would rise to become the Fourth Uzukage. Under her leadership, the isolation that had once stifled Uzushiogakure would end, ushering in an era of prosperity and connection. No longer would the cruel moon bear witness to a tide of blood at the close; instead, it would gaze upon a village united and strong.

And Shinpachi, he would be more than his trauma, of course; time would let him evolve beyond a mere guardian — although he would become an instrumental figure in healing the scars left by their ordeal. Yes, Shinpachi would work closely with the village elders (of both villages) and other key figures, leveraging his experience and growing wisdom to strengthen the peace, putting in place new safety protocols, ensuring that no other people would ever suffer a similar fate. He would be recognized for his valor and sharp mind, and someday he would mentor younger shinobi, or perhaps even there would be no need for them in the world to come. In such a world, there would be room for people like Naruto and his mother as well, and they would find a place there, just as Yasaka would.

Yes, it was a nice wish. A hopeful reality, the sort that only belonged in dreams — warm, dry places where shadows existed only to enhance the light, where they did not plan for the future of the world.

But dreams and wishes, as nice as they were, were slight things, and perhaps they only bore little weight against reality, which tended to happen anyway, perhaps to spite them; a wild chariot, untamed and set in its ways, careening down its chosen path with little regard for the whispers of hope left crushed in its wake.

Because, of course, that was not exactly what happened.

And so, Naruto went back to his tale.

"Too warm…?" Karin mused, her brow furrowed in contemplation. "That is weird."

They were suddenly quiet, all three of them. Enveloped in a strange silence.

No, all four of them, because Shōzō, who glanced toward the sky first instead of the island under them, and then took a glance at the other people sitting in boats. A warm wind was blowing, nearly silently, and it was one of those moments where time itself seemed to halt.

There was something in the air, something that made the hairs on his arm rise and his skin prickle, and a sweet yet rotting stench that mingled with the brine of the sea.

Something that felt inexorable, and the world around them took on an eerie, surreal quality.

There was a sound, something Naruto had never heard in his life, an alien thing that could not possibly belong; a massive, rippling sound. Too visceral, too grotesque to belong to any living creature. For a moment, the waves halted entirely, and the sweet, sickening smell redoubled, nearly suffocating him with its cloying heaviness.

An ethereal glow emanated from the water, casting ghostly, wavering lights across their faces, and just as suddenly, darkness fell like a curtain, snuffing out the light and painting the sky an oppressive black, thicker even than the horrid smell. The birds in the sky twisted and turned in bizarre, erratic patterns, as if driven mad by some unseen horror.

If those were birds at all—

And then, from beneath the sea, the massive shadow began to ascend. It was no island, though its immense size rivaled that of landmasses Naruto had seen in the past. The water around it churned violently as it surfaced; a translucent thing, shimmering with a sickly light, and then entirely opaque.

The horror turned sluggishly, deliberately in the water, and where its eyes should have been, there were only hollow sockets, gaping and abyssal, staring into nothingness… and fixated on them. Emptiness, watching with a malevolent awareness.

Emptiness, dancing.

The sea roiled and heaved, and the great waves continued to crash against the boat, in a near-silent assault. Naruto felt cold sweat running down his back as he stood frozen. Shinpachi, near him, trembled uncontrollably, his terror palpable, and Naruto didn't dare turn around to glance at Karin, too transfixed by the eerie spectacle.

There was only this nightmare of bone and half-translucent flesh, a scene from the darkest of myths — something that ought to be a tale told by sailors to frighten the young and gullible. But here it was, tangible and horrifyingly real.

A moment stretched; a silent reckoning.

Breathe. He stood there, frozen as a particularly startled fish caught in a sudden, blinding light — not once, but twice this day. The monstrosity before them grinned, a slow contortion of its maw revealing teeth stained and jagged, and ground down to jagged stumps. Shōzō, with trembling caution, raised a hand, and his chakra sparked to life, encircling him with a protective glow as light coalesced into a gleaming blue armor. Beside him, Shinpachi was shaking violently, his entire body quivering in a way that seemed unnatural, almost spasmodic — each jolt seemingly Naruto's own, and the younger boy's hands clutched a paper card like a talisman, stuttering something that sounded like sanctuary, even as Karin opened her mouth and there was a metallic sound…

A dark laugh, a ripple.

And then, the spark — a ghostly flare erupted from the depths. Followed by light. Terrible, terrible light.

It can't be fire.

It shouldn't be, not rising from water.

Shōzō let out a shrill scream.

The sea under the dark sky was a shifting mass of shadows, and the waves seemed the only movement in the enveloping gloom.

Lukewarm water continued to seep into Naruto's clothes, and his head lolled back uselessly, and there was a vile taste in his mouth: metallic and sweet and rancid, at once. His neck, stiff and heavy as if cast from iron, barely supported his head as he struggled onto his knees, pooling chakra into the sea steadily to right himself…

And he froze again.

Red eyes, staring at him, hauntingly unbalanced — one pupil blown wide, dark and consuming as night, the other a tiny pinprick. Glasses askew on a bloodied, charred face; and Karin, dressed in clothes stained in a red so deep it appeared almost black, and unmistakably dead, continued to stare at Naruto, almost accusingly. Blood had pooled around her in the water, darkening around the remnants of her legs, which were devoured up to mid-thigh. Naruto tasted the metallic tang again and realized, with a chilling detachment, that some of her blood had seeped into his mouth earlier.

The ensuing rush of terror nearly had Naruto fall back into the water entirely. There was a terrible, erratic thumping in his chest, and he thought he could smell smoke, like he had on that day, and he was trembling, aching. His teeth came down on his upper lip hard enough to draw blood.

What are you doing? he thought dazedly.

The smell of iron hit him then, along with that of cooked meat, and Naruto recoiled once more. He thought he was strong enough to control himself, but his latest meal, tuna and rice, came up in a violent gag anyway.

There was no use trying to describe the confused mess of emotions running through his head, how Karin's dead eyes became larger in his mind, becoming deep, dark wells that threatened to swallow him whole.

"Hey..." he heard someone mutter and only figured it was Shinpachi a moment later. His voice cut through the nightmare, weak and disbelieving. "That's… that's not funny, Karin — Cut it out. Get up, please."

For a moment, Naruto thought he saw her mouth move in answer, and she was grinning, and she said something impossible, and her body was miraculously whole and healed rather than mangled, because she had healed herself like she had healed him before, and nothing of this was happening, and he could not see burning ships on the horizon beyond that shadow.

Instead, he nearly choked on smoke, felt the traces of her bright chakra fading away fast — the last embers of true Uzumaki gold, washed away by the heartless sea, the same way her broken remains soon would be.

Shinpachi, who was clutching the talisman as though it could ward off the darkness, was whimpering raw sobs; an ugly cry that left both snot and hot tears trailing down his boyish face. Whatever that barrier of light he had summoned around them had been, it was breaking apart, tearing at the seams, even as he futilely tried to maintain it.

Shōzō, he thought. Perhaps Shōzō could…

A beam of evening light came in through the dark sky, faint and orange. Not much illumination, but enough. Or too much, perhaps.

Enough to see more bodies in the water, around the boats, and further away, scattered like leaves after a storm. Those, too, the current carried away, with a sort of indifferent grace. Naruto's thoughts flitted desperately to Shōzō again, to any hope of salvation, until he saw shattered pieces of gleaming blue metal and torn flesh fused, bits of molten metal slowly sinking — the pride of Uzushiogakure, gone into the sea to meet their ancestors.

And there, in the distance, entirely out of the seas and high into the sky, against the dying light of the day, hovered that grotesque specter, this monstrous mockery of life, its skin a translucent membrane that shimmered with a sickly glow, revealing the horror of its skeletal innards.

Death.

Despair settled over Naruto, and he understood the end was near, and he could only hope that for Karin, Shōzō, and all the other lost souls of the day, it had been mercifully quick — he prayed it would the case be for them as well. His mind raced uncontrollably, a cascade of memories and faces: his mother; Yasaka; his father; eyes of deep crimson...

A jolt.

There was a flash of light, high up. More orange light, peering through, and…

Something that couldn't make sense, an impossibility. A red arrow, borne by a divine arm, soaring through the heavens. Naruto's eyes were drawn to it, and he was sure that Shinpachi's were, too. Even the creature seemed to halt its slow turn, for a moment.

That beacon grew closer, close enough to see—

It was a man, descending with such incredible velocity he could not merely have been falling.

Then, there was a terrible feeling in the air; a great gathering of sorts, pooled and released faster than Naruto had ever felt; something that could only be chakra. It burst forth with light, and a massive winged creature shimmered into existence, close to that man, plummeting just as fast as he was.

Seizing its talon mid-fall in a daring maneuver, or perhaps a jerky motion that should have dislocated his shoulder, the man seemingly decided that turning all of that vertical acceleration into something slightly more horizontal was a wise move, rather than a suicidal choice. And—

As the figure hurtled toward them with alarming speed, slicing through the air just above their heads, a flicker of recognition crossed Naruto's mind, and perhaps it was that, remembering that odd glint in golden eyes, that prompted him to react.

Almost instinctively, Naruto shielded Shinpachi, who was still clutching his spell card and sobbing. He dragged them both beneath the water's surface, swimming with all his strength — enough for two, because the other boy's leg was shattered. They plunged deeper and deeper, driven by sheer desperation, pushing past the ever-rising horror…

There was a shockwave high above, hitting like a freight train, more than strong enough to send them tumbling, even submerged. Clinging to each other amid the roiling depths, Naruto's grip tightened as he shielded the boy from the overhead chaos.

When they finally breached the surface, gasping for air, Naruto quashed his screaming instincts to grasp the scene of apocalyptic dread: fire and inky blood, raining down from the heavens, a towering inferno blazing where he suspected the winged creature had met the monstrous horror, and a sinister crimson streak jetting from the crest of a wave, slicing back into the heavens... and directly at them.

Toward us? he thought with silent dread climbing up his spine. The red blur was headed straight for them, with all of this accumulated momentum.

In the blink of an eye, with a thunderous crash, the man slammed into the ocean next to them, far enough not to kill them but still far too close, like concrete shattering. He had flown with such blistering speed that Naruto hadn't been able to track his movement.

Before Naruto could even begin to process half of this terrifying sight, a vice-like grip seized his wrist, nearly breaking it. He was suddenly face-to-face with a man whose wild, golden eyes burned with a chilling fervor that rooted Naruto in fear.

"You have him," the man stated; a cold command. There was a blankness in his eyes that for some reason, reminded Naruto of old Michiko's cat — bright and aware, but only interested in his prey. That was what he thought, then. "Enkō. I need him back, now."

Confused and startled, Naruto stammered. "Who?"

"Monkey." The impatience in the man's tone was thick, his presence overwhelming as he sensed the shikigami nearby.

The tag that had only brought him trouble so far? Naruto, his thoughts a blur, reached into his pouch with trembling fingers.

"Hurry up, if you want to live."

An almost sly smile played on the man's lips as he took the tag, his chakra flaring up with such intensity that it nearly scorched Naruto and Shinpachi alike — and in the younger boy's eyes, Naruto thought he could see fearful recognition.

"Good boy," the man remarked casually, and his voice carried over the sound of waves easily, even though it hadn't been particularly loud.

The hand finally released Naruto's bruised wrist, and the man threw himself forward with reckless abandon once more, hurtling himself toward the looming shadow that awaited ahead.

Shinpachi was muttering, and his voice was a faint croak.

"…What?" Naruto asked.

"It's a — it's a two-part bind." When Naruto glanced at him, Shinpachi was rubbing his arms vigorously, trying to ward off the chill of terror. His jumbled words felt the same way: something to try to conjure warmth for his mind, perhaps a distraction so that he wouldn't spiral out. "At least two. But given who he is, probably more. A restriction, perhaps..."

"Who he is…?" Naruto asked, but Shinpachi was already lost to him again, blue eyes wide and face pale as he watched.

The brief clash that followed was as nightmarish as the rest of the day.

The thing the man confronted could only be a Bake-kujira — a skeletal whale of old legends, its mere presence a bad omen.

The encounter unfolded with terrifying swiftness. As the creature's massive jaws gaped, stretching unnaturally, a firestorm raged within, illuminating the darkness with a fierce, unholy light. And as the great maws closed around him, the man's face split into a reckless grin.

With a chant that Naruto would later recall as 'monkey business' — an incongruously playful phrase, especially under such dire circumstances — a new, monstrous form erupted into existence around the man. The six-armed behemoth tore through the yōkai with a ferocity that left Naruto and Shinpachi frozen in horror.

That was it. That was how he used that shikigami. A trigger to call it, or perhaps, as Shinpachi had said, another part to the binding. A call, a card, and likely something else.

There was no certainty here. And there were only two things Naruto felt certain of, right now:

One. This couldn't be a monkey. That massive, six-armed thing simply couldn't be; even calling it a gorilla would be stretching it. It must have been a demon of lore, a savage echo of the darkest tales. And the violence it unleashed — this sheer unrestrained savagery as it ripped apart the yōkai's ribcage, twisting and pulling its lower jaws at once — was brutal to behold. Even though Naruto watched it all happen with a small, grim sense of satisfaction, it was overshadowed by horror. Heavy and unsettling. He knew the memory would inevitably haunt his nights, joining the ranks of other nightmares that already consumed far too much of his restless sleep.

Whether the man had intended for Naruto to use this to sneak into the deepest part of the Library (which was more ridiculous than even that naming scheme), or whether there was more to it, remained a mystery.

In any case, less than five minutes after that thing was manifested, the battle had come to an end. The darkness in the sky receded, leaving only familiar, bright orange. There wasn't a single speck of blood on the man's white shirt.

Two—

"Well, this is rather inconvenient," the man said, appearing beside Naruto with a fluid grace that barely registered in his stunned mind. He spread his arms wide as the yōkai convulsed in the skies — furious despair — its form disintegrating under the relentless assault of the summoned beast, its very essence burning and crumbling into dark matter as it was torn from its body, leaving nothing behind. "You two weren't supposed to see that."

His gaze — gold and steel — locked onto Naruto, and sanity resumed with a deep sigh. "I could give you the usual spiel," he continued, his voice low and compelling. "Tell you that monster is merely a creature of this world, swollen with raw energy, or perhaps a summoned entity. Or even another shikigami."

Naruto shook his head, his disbelief palpable in the heavy silence that followed.

"That's what I figured," the man murmured, a knowing look crossing his face. "Your senses paint one picture, but you know better, deep down." He glanced again at the fading creature, his expression somber.

His smile was sharp, edged with an almost brutal honesty. It was a dangerous smile, the kind worn by a man who knew things better left unknown, in a more just world, tinged with a feverish madness Naruto would later recognize as the mark of a warrior. Or a thrill-seeker, perhaps.

Yet, beneath this fierce exterior, beneath all that was part walls and part veil, as the man's eyes briefly swept over the debris of battle — the sinking ships, the lost lives — there flashed a moment of unexpected tenderness.

This duality, Naruto would reflect later, was perhaps as Uzumaki as one could get — the noble and the ruthless intertwined. Good and bad.

"Regardless..." The man's voice pulled Naruto back from his thoughts, dismissing the gravity of what had transpired with a nonchalant shrug, and that impression of concern was gone.

As though that matter was now closed. As though a girl Naruto had only truly met hours earlier hadn't disappeared under the unforgiving sea. As though a man deemed strong enough to command a Sealed Armor hadn't been torn apart, his remains scattered by the tide like foam on a wave's crest. As if the chaos that had just unfolded was a mere trifle. As if the lives lost and the devastation wrought were just another day's work. As though Shinpachi wasn't there behind him, struggling to keep afloat with one leg grotesquely twisted, his face pallid with shock.

At that moment, Naruto might have glimpsed the vast, bizarre horrors that the world outside held — forces that could compel a man to stifle his humanity. But such lessons were often only understood through harsh, direct experience. He couldn't truly have known then that the most fearsome monsters were not those that stood tallest or roared the loudest but were instead cloaked in pleasantries and subtle manipulations.

With a casual flick of his wrist, the man caused the spectral ape to dissolve, the chakra dispersing as if swept away by a gentle breeze, or perhaps wilting like a flower in reverse bloom…

That was how childhood ended — not with a whimper, but in this bizarre, surreal spectacle. Between lapping waves that, already, had washed the day's blood away, a towering ape-like beast that coalesced back into the ether, and a blazing whale that ignited the twilight sky and the horizon.

That day was also the one they truly met.

"Name's Gojō. Yours is Naruto, right?"

lensdump:

i/nTWcED : Crimson Horizons

AN: Sorry for the delay, I was kinda busy with other things, among which finishing Extra. And if it seems as though I dropped a spinoff of that monster today anyway, I'm sure there's nothing to it...

Well, then. Dead characters and a slight change in dialogue punctuation aside, uh, how have you been?

Next chapter: Hazy Moon