Chapter 15: Plum Blossom
The training grounds were still. Not silent — the distant rustle of leaves, the chirping of unseen birds, and the faint hum of Konoha's daily life echoed in the background. But here, in the center of the clearing, everything was still.
Kimiko stood motionless, her posture straight, feet firmly planted, and hands resting lightly at her sides. Her tanto was sheathed behind her, tied to the small of her back with dark ribbons. Her breath was steady and deliberate, like the rhythm of ocean waves. Each inhale, each exhale, was controlled.
Above her, on a raised platform, stood a familiar figure: Hayate Gekkou, his outline as sharp and frail as a broken blade. The youngest tokubetsu jonin. Her father's kenjutsu protégé. His silhouette was skeletal, his face gaunt, but his eyes were sharp and ever-watchful. His gaze followed her every breath, every shift of her weight.
"Are you ready?" Hayate's voice was quiet, dry like brittle leaves cracking underfoot.
Kimiko didn't answer right away. She reached up, fingers brushing over her forehead protector. Slowly, she pulled it down over her eyes, plunging herself into darkness. Shadows overtook her sight, and for a moment, she was blind. But she felt no fear. No hesitation. The anxiety she once felt when doing this exercise was gone. Her breaths remained steady.
"Ready," she said at last.
"Good."
There was a pause. Hayate didn't move. Kimiko remained still as well. Her mind was empty, her thoughts still, like a deep pond with no ripples. She didn't flinch. She didn't even twitch.
Then it began.
The first shift was subtle, a sharp flick of Hayate's wrist, followed by the unmistakable whistle of metal slicing through the air. It was faint, like the hum of dragonfly wings, but her ears caught it.
Her body reacted on instinct. Her right hand darted back, fingers curling around the handle of her tanto. In a single motion, she unsheathed it with a crisp, clean draw, the sound of metal leaving its scabbard sharp and clear. Her arm swung diagonally, cutting through the air at a precise angle.
The clang of steel on steel echoed across the field.
Two shuriken, knocked off course, spun away and buried themselves into the dirt at her feet. She felt them land through the subtle vibrations in the ground.
But there was no time to stop.
A second shift in the air — faster, sharper than before. Her ears twitched, picking up the sound. Three shuriken this time. They were coming from the left, and unlike before, their flight was staggered, each one released half a second apart.
She moved before the second one had even been thrown.
Her shoulder shifted, her feet pivoted, and her entire body spun like a wheel on its axis. She didn't just dodge, she flowed. Her hair fanned out like a trail of ink behind her as she pirouetted, turning her entire body, her tanto following the path of her spin like the hand of a clock.
The first shuriken whizzed past her cheek. The second whistled past her ribs, missing her by inches. The third flew through the space her head had just vacated. Her feet landed softly, her posture steady. Her breathing hadn't changed.
There was no pause. No stillness. Only motion.
Her left hand reached into the small pouch on her hip, and her fingers brushed across the familiar cool, metallic surface of the senbon she stored there. Her fingers gripped three of them, holding them like delicate threads.
There.
Above her, the air shifted. It wasn't the sound of a hand flicking this time. No, this was something more subtle. A shift in air pressure. Height. Elevation. Hayate was moving, but she didn't hear footsteps. No. It was the creak of his knee joints, the faint crunch of dirt under his toes.
He's above me.
Her hand moved with precision and grace. Her fingers snapped forward, releasing the senbon into the air at an angle, her eyes still blindfolded. The senbon soared, three thin needles spinning through the air like threads unraveling from a spool.
Tink. Tink. Tink.
The sound of steel colliding with steel echoed once, twice, three times as her senbon intercepted three more airborne shuriken. The clash was quick, and in an instant, all six projectiles tumbled to the ground like lifeless insects.
Silence.
Her breathing remained steady. No fear. No hesitation. She knew where Hayate was now. She could hear him step forward from the platform above, his foot landing softly on the edge. She could hear the faint creak of his joints as he shifted his weight.
Then he laughed. It was a low, dry laugh that quickly devolved into a soft cough.
"I'm amazed," Hayate said. His voice wasn't mocking. It wasn't dismissive. It was honest. He coughed once more, but his tone remained firm. "You really are a generational talent, Kimiko. To be able to do this well after only a month of training…"
Kimiko didn't respond immediately. She stood tall, gripping her tanto in one hand, the other resting by her side. She didn't smile, but she could feel the weight of his words.
Generational talent. She let those words settle in her mind like seeds drifting into the soil.
"Alright," he continued, his tone shifting ever so slightly. "I won't hold back now."
Her grip on the tanto tightened. Her lips curled upward, a faint grin forming on her face.
"Neither will I, Hayate-senpai."
The air shifted again.
This time, there was no pause. No warning. No flick of the wrist. No shift in weight. No sound.
The first three shuriken came from three different directions — one from her left, one from her right, and one from directly in front. All three aimed for her at once.
Kimiko heard them before they fully left his hands. Her body moved, her feet gliding across the dirt like brushstrokes on a canvas. She pivoted on one foot, twisting her body just far enough to avoid the first. The second came straight for her ribs, and she flicked her tanto, deflecting it with a quick parry. The third? She shifted just far enough to the side to let it graze the fabric of her sleeve.
But it didn't end there.
This time, Hayate was relentless. No pause between volleys. She heard it before it came, a rhythmic flick-flick-flick, and she knew what it meant.
Three more. No, four.
Her ears caught every shift, every flick of his wrist. She didn't think. There was no thought. Only action. Her heart beat in her chest like a taiko drum, steady and powerful. She moved again, twisting, ducking, side-stepping. Her tanto carved small arcs through the air as she deflected two of them. The other two zipped past her as she pivoted low to the ground, her knees barely an inch from the dirt.
No pause.
Two more. Then two more. Faster this time. He was testing her. Testing how long she could last.
But she didn't flinch.
Her body moved as if the ground itself carried her. She no longer felt like she was moving her body. Her body was simply responding, as if every step, every swing, every breath was part of one continuous motion. No interruptions. No hesitation.
The still pond was rippling, but it wasn't chaotic. It was controlled. Ripples, but no disturbance.
Her father's words echoed in her mind.
"When you fight with clarity, you fight with truth. See everything, hear everything, feel everything — but react to nothing until it matters."
The rain of steel stopped. She stood in the center of the training grounds, surrounded by the faint clang of metal hitting dirt. She remained motionless, listening. No more sound.
Hayate coughed softly from above.
"Better," he said. She heard the subtle shift in his tone — something between pride and expectation. "But I wonder how much longer you can keep that pond still, Kimiko."
Kimiko raised her tanto, the edge pointed at the ground. Her breathing was even. Her body, steady.
"As long as I need to," she replied, her voice firm, clear, and absolute.
"Good," he said, his voice sharp as a blade. She heard the soft hiss of metal again. "Because this isn't going to be easy."
There was no shift in the air this time. No flick of the wrist. No change in footing. This time, it was silent.
Kimiko heard nothing. But she knew it was coming.
She gripped her tanto tighter. Her feet sank lightly into the dirt, knees bent. Her body became like a coiled spring, ready to explode.
No more ripples.
Not even a single one.
And then everything moved.
Three bursts of chakra pressure. One from the left. One from the right. One from directly above.
She couldn't see it, but she felt it. Hayate had split himself into three using shadow clones. That was the only explanation.
Kimiko's mind sharpened. No use dodging out of this one.
She tightened her grip on her tanto, bringing it close to her chest. Her fingers curled around the handle with steady purpose, her breaths long and deliberate. Instead of coiling her legs to spring away, she rooted herself to the ground.
Her knees bent, her posture solid.
Her breath evened.
Her grip firmed.
She didn't need to track where the attacks would come from. It didn't matter. They were coming from every direction. There was no escape.
So she didn't run.
Kimiko shifted her stance, both hands now gripping the hilt of her tanto, holding it firmly in front of her. Her eyes were still blindfolded, but her spirit remained clear. No thoughts of fear. No doubts about timing. Only stillness. The kind of stillness that precedes the crash of waves on the shore.
Her lips parted, her voice calm, firm, and resolute.
"Konoha Style Kenjutsu: Implacable Swaying Willow."
Her breath stilled, her thoughts vanishing. Her body moved without conscious effort. Her feet dug slightly into the dirt. Her arms flowed, her tanto cutting through the air in wide, fluid arcs. She didn't force her swings. She let them flow, like leaves dancing with the wind. Her sword didn't resist the motion — it moved with it. Every swing followed the rhythm of an unseen breeze.
Her body was no longer Kimiko's body.
It was a willow tree, its branches swaying as rain and storm battered against it.
Shurikens rained down. The air filled with the sharp hum of spinning metal, dozens of them, closing in from all sides.
Her tanto carved a circle. Right, left, right, downward, upward. Her arms moved in smooth, precise arcs, catching the flow of the projectiles like a willow tree yielding to a hurricane. She didn't strike against them — she let their momentum meet her own.
Clang. Clang. Clangclangclang.
One by one, she knocked them away. The clang of steel on steel echoed like a crescendo of drums. Each sound resonated sharper than the last. She spun once, letting the momentum carry her, her blade arcing upward to catch two shurikens from above. Her footing remained perfect. Her core remained solid. The air hummed with the metallic symphony of deflected blades.
I can do this. I can do this all—
Pain.
A sudden, sharp pain bloomed under her ribs, a familiar stabbing ache that made her breath hitch. Her eyes widened under the blindfold. The liver.
The pain wasn't unbearable, but it was enough to shift her stance. Enough to disrupt the stillness.
In that moment, she faltered.
Her swing slowed by half a second. It was small. Barely noticeable. But in the world of shinobi, a half-second was everything.
A shuriken zipped through the air, bypassing her defense. It grazed her right shoulder, a sharp sting of pain, followed by the faint warmth of blood running down her arm. She heard it before she felt it.
Kimiko gasped, her eyes narrowing in frustration. She gritted her teeth as her tanto spun to her side, her stance shifting to neutral. Her fingers went to the blindfold, gripping it tightly before yanking it up. Light flooded her vision, her eyes squinting to adjust.
The sight before her was a field littered with broken, battered shuriken. Dozens of them. Some embedded in the ground, others rolling uselessly on the dirt.
And in the center of it all was Hayate Gekkou, standing with one hand in his pocket, his other hand raised from throwing. He coughed twice, each one harder than the last.
"That was amazing, Kimiko-chan," he said, his voice rough but sincere. He coughed once more before stepping toward her, his movement soft but deliberate. He reached out, placing his hand on her forehead, letting it linger for a moment. "You're mastering the Implacable Swaying Willow faster than I expected."
Kimiko didn't respond at first. Her eyes trailed to the sword in her hands. Her reflection glinted back at her from the steel. Her frown deepened.
"It doesn't feel right," she admitted. Her tone was steady but distant, like she was speaking her thoughts aloud.
"Hm?" Hayate tilted his head.
"The technique," she said, glancing at him now. "It's useful. It's powerful. I get it. But it doesn't feel like it's mine. I can do it. I can do it perfectly. But…" She exhaled through her nose. "But it's like wearing someone else's clothes. It fits, but it's not mine."
Hayate watched her in silence for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Not every kenjutsu style fits every shinobi," he said. His eyes scanned her form. "The Swaying Willow is about defending. It's about weathering the storm. But you…" He tapped his temple with one finger. "You aren't the type to sit and endure. You're the type to push the storm back."
Her fingers tightened on the hilt of her tanto.
"Yeah," she muttered softly.
"Don't worry about it," Hayate continued, smiling faintly as he wiped his lips. "Mastering the styles of others is the first step to creating your own."
He coughed again, harder this time. Kimiko glanced at him, her eyes narrowing.
"Are you alright, senpai?" she asked.
"Don't worry about me," he said, waving it off. But Kimiko could see it. She could feel it. His chakra wasn't normal. It wasn't stable. Like her father's, it was like a massive tree, weathered but proud. Unlike her father's towering willow however, Hayate's was a maple tree in autumn with sleek, strong branches. But under the bark, there was something else. Something rotting. Like a dozen parasitic insects crawling around underneath, slowly consuming him.
Her gaze lingered on him longer than it should have.
Hayate noticed. He chuckled quietly.
"You see it too, huh?" he said with a small grin. "It's nothing new. Chakra sickness isn't exactly something I can train away." He looked down at his hand, clenching it into a fist. "This body's been rotting since the day I learned my first ninjutsu."
"If I could move past my disease and become your father's protege, you can do it and surpass us both," Said Hayate, coughing again, and Kimiko smiled.
Hayate… she had learned more about him since they began training together. He was, like many of her father's protégés, a first-generation shinobi. No bloodline limits. No clan legacy to bolster him. Just grit. Just will.
But fate hadn't been kind to him.
He had been born with a chronic chakra illness. It wasn't something you could see at first glance. But once you noticed, it was impossible to unsee. For every jutsu he cast, every surge of chakra he controlled, his own body paid the price. Unlike normal shinobi who only expended chakra, Hayate's jutsu drew from something deeper. Each technique siphoned small amounts of energy from his muscles, his organs, his very life force. It was as if his body had declared war on itself.
To put it simply: he was in a perpetual state of Chakra Fatigue.
No matter how strong his reserves were, no matter how much he trained, every ninjutsu came with a cost. Not just tiredness. Not just exhaustion. It was slow, deliberate decay.
For most people, it would have been a death sentence. For most people, it would have been an excuse to quit. But Hayate wasn't "most people."
He worked harder than anyone in his generation. Harder than anyone she knew. While his peers leaned on raw talent, Hayate built his strength from nothing. He learned how to use chakra efficiently, never wasting a drop more than was necessary. If others threw ten kunai to win a fight, Hayate threw one. If others burned chakra to blast through a wall, Hayate found the weak point and slipped through a crack.
But pure efficiency wasn't enough. He needed something more.
So he turned to kenjutsu.
While others pursued flashy ninjutsu, Hayate trained in the blade. It was practical. Precise. Lethal. And, most importantly, it didn't demand as much chakra as ninjutsu. His father recognized his potential early on and took him as a personal student. He taught Hayate everything about kenjutsu — the stances, the footwork, the tempo of battle. Hayate studied every angle, every movement. Where others swung wildly, Hayate swung with purpose.
That dedication, that relentlessness, earned him the rank of Tokubetsu Jonin. Despite his illness. Despite his condition. Despite the world looking down on him.
And that was what made him terrifying.
For most shinobi, illness would have been an excuse to fail. But for Hayate, it was a reason to succeed twice as hard. He had the skills, the patience, and the insight of a man ten years his senior. In terms of raw talent, he could have been a jonin on par with Kurenai, maybe beyond. Kimiko could see it clearly now. He had that spark. That potential.
But potential only gets you so far.
No matter how brilliant he was, no matter how skilled, Hayate was still sick.
And sickness didn't care about potential. It didn't care about dreams. It didn't care about willpower. It didn't care that he had learned to master his illness and fight on anyway. His body was his battlefield, and every battle wore him down.
Kimiko watched him closely whenever they trained. She could see the subtle signs now. The way his chakra flickered like a dying candle. The faint hesitation in his movements when he coughed mid-fight. The quiet tremble in his fingers after a long session.
But he always kept going.
And that's what scared her most.
"If I can get past it," Hayate said, his tone quiet but firm, "you can too. You've got the talent. You've got the drive. You'll surpass us both."
Kimiko's heart clenched. She hated hearing those words. Surpass us both. It sounded like the prelude to a farewell.
"None of that, senpai," she muttered, brushing it off. "Just don't die on me before I can show you something better than the Implacable Swaying Willow."
Hayate laughed, a dry, hollow laugh. But it was genuine.
"I'll hold you to that," Hayate said, his grin faint but genuine. "I'm not going anywhere just yet, Kimiko-chan."
His words were meant to be reassuring, but they didn't feel that way. Not to her. She knew better.
She knew his fate.
Hayate Gekkou would die. She had seen it play out before — not here, but in another life, on a screen. He'd die while tailing Kabuto, his movements quick, precise, unseen… until it didn't matter anymore. Slain in the dark by Baki, a Sunagakure jonin, his death cold, silent, and without ceremony.
No vengeance. No justice. Just another name on the list of the fallen.
It always felt like a loose thread to her. One of those things that lingered in the back of her mind long after the credits rolled. A moment that wasn't resolved. It wasn't like Asuma, where there was catharsis, revenge, and closure. Hayate's death just… happened.
But this wasn't the anime, was it?
A sharp voice broke her train of thought.
"That's right."
Kimiko turned, fingers twitching toward the tanto at her hip. Her stance shifted slightly as her eyes locked on the source of the voice. It was a woman approaching them with a steady, confident gait.
Purple hair, cut clean and straight. Warm brown eyes that had a softness to them despite her sharp movements. Her eyes flicked between Kimiko and Hayate, lingering on them like she was watching something precious.
"Yugao-san," Kimiko said, lowering her guard. She gave a respectful bow, her tone polite but wary.
"Nice to see you, Yugao," Hayate added, his voice lighter than it had been all day. Kimiko glanced at him.
His whole demeanor shifted. His shoulders, usually tense, relaxed. His grin became less of a mask and more of a real smile. It was subtle, but noticeable. Kimiko noticed.
Her eyes flicked back to Yugao, who was already walking toward Hayate. She didn't hesitate. She stepped into his space like it was hers to claim, wrapping her arms around him in a firm embrace. Her head rested lightly against his shoulder, and he didn't resist.
Kimiko blinked and looked away. Not because she was embarrassed, but because it felt too intimate to watch. Too personal.
"Ha," Hayate muttered, his grin growing as he tilted his head toward her. "To think the ANBU sent a spy to seduce me. And right in front of my junior too."
"From what I saw, your junior's going to surpass you soon at the rate she's improving," Yugao replied, unwrapping herself from Hayate. She glanced at Kimiko, her gaze playful but sharp, and reached over to ruffle her hair.
Kimiko's face scrunched, lips flattening into a frown as she batted Yugao's hand away. "Stop that," she muttered, smoothing her hair back into place.
But something about Yugao caught her attention. Something that didn't sit right.
Her eyes narrowed as she watched her. Not her appearance, not her voice — her chakra.
Where was it?
Kimiko could feel chakra from across a battlefield. She had trained herself to sense it like a ripple on still water. The faint flicker of energy, the hum of life-force flowing through a body, the presence that all shinobi carried. But she felt none of that from Yugao. No ripple. No flicker. No hum.
She hadn't even sensed her arrival.
Kimiko's gaze lingered on her longer now, eyes sharper. She glanced at Hayate, looking for a sign that he noticed too. But he didn't. Or maybe he did, and he just didn't care.
It made sense. Yugao wasn't a normal kunoichi.
She was ANBU.
Everyone knew about the ANBU. They were Konoha's ghosts. People knew they existed, but no one knew who they were. No names, no faces, no stories. Just masks. Masks with hollow eyes that watched everything. They answered to one man and one man only — the Hokage. Unlike shinobi, who performed missions for clients, the ANBU served only one client: the village itself.
They were not soldiers. They were not heroes. They were shadows.
Kimiko glanced at Yugao's forearm, noting the faint line of ink peeking out from her sleeve. The ANBU tattoo.
Her gaze flicked back up to Yugao's face. How long had she been watching them? How long had she been here without Kimiko knowing?
Yugao smiled as if she could read her mind. Her arms folded as she leaned slightly to one side, her posture relaxed but deliberate. She wasn't just standing still. She was resting, like a predator saving its energy.
"Don't look so stiff," Yugao said, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "If anything, I'm doing you a favor, Kimiko-chan. Your hair was a mess."
Kimiko huffed, smoothing her hair back. She glanced at Hayate, looking for support. But he wasn't looking at her.
He was looking at Yugao.
His eyes lingered on her longer than normal. And Yugao's gaze met his in turn.
It wasn't affection. It wasn't admiration. It was something quieter, deeper, and much more fragile. Familiarity. Intimacy.
Kimiko looked away, her eyes shifting to the ground. She watched the scattered shurikens at her feet. Broken metal pieces reflected faint shards of sunlight, dull but still sharp.
"Why are you here, Yugao?" Hayate asked suddenly, his eyes squinting. His voice had shifted again. No longer joking.
"Is it wrong to check on my favorite swordsman?" she replied, tilting her head. Her eyes, however, didn't leave Hayate.
"You don't drop by without a reason," he replied. His eyes scanned her, just as Kimiko's had done earlier. "Not unless you're on assignment."
Yugao hummed softly, arms still folded.
"I'm off-duty today," she said, but Kimiko noticed the subtle shift in her tone. Not a lie, but not the full truth either. Yugao glanced at Kimiko, eyes half-lidded, her expression unreadable. "I figured I'd stop by. Word around the village is that your student's improving fast. I wanted to see if the rumors were true."
Her eyes met Kimiko's.
Kimiko felt it this time. That shift in attention. Like a cat slowly turning its head toward a mouse. Yugao's gaze wasn't just casual observation. It was analysis. Every inch of Kimiko's stance, her breathing, her posture — Yugao was dissecting it all.
Kimiko met her gaze, not flinching, not blinking.
"What do you think?" Kimiko asked plainly.
Yugao's eyes narrowed for a moment. Her gaze lingered, her eyes scanning Kimiko one final time, head to toe.
"I think," Yugao said slowly, "you've got potential. More than most." Her eyes didn't soften. If anything, they became sharper. "But potential's just a pretty word for 'not ready yet.'
Kimiko's fingers curled into a loose fist.
"Then I guess I'll have to make it more than a word," Kimiko replied.
Yugao's grin widened slightly, just a small twitch of the lips.
"You will," Yugao said. "Otherwise, I'll be ruffling your hair for the rest of your life."
Kimiko clicked her tongue, glancing away.
"I'd like to see you try," she muttered, but her tone was lighter.
Hayate chuckled, a dry, hollow sound, but it was warmer than usual. He coughed once, twice, then wiped his mouth.
"Looks like you've got more teachers than you thought, Kimiko-chan," he said. "Which reminds me, isn't it time for you to take your medicine? We're about done here anyway,"
"Looks like you've got more teachers than you thought, Kimiko-chan," Hayate said with a faint grin. He coughed into his sleeve, the sound dry but controlled. "Which reminds me… isn't it about time for you to take your medicine? We're about done here anyway."
Kimiko sighed, glancing toward him with mild irritation. "I know, I know," she muttered, waving him off.
Her hand dipped into the pouch at her side. From it, she pulled out a small glass bottle, no larger than a vial, with brown pills inside. She plucked the cork free with her thumbnail, the pop of the seal barely audible. Her eyes briefly glanced at the pills. She had grown used to the sight of them, but it still felt strange. Medicine wasn't supposed to be a part of a shinobi's daily routine.
Still, without hesitation, she plucked a pill from the bottle and placed it on her tongue. Her face scrunched up the moment it hit. Bitter.
No matter how many times she took it, the taste was always sharp, earthy, and overwhelming. She clicked her tongue in distaste as she swallowed, her throat tightening as if rejecting it.
A moment later, it hit.
It started as a soft warmth in her chest, then spread outward, like sunlight filtering through her veins. The ache in her liver — that dull, ever-present gnawing pain — ebbed away. It wasn't a dramatic feeling. Just… relief. Quiet, steady relief.
Her shoulders relaxed. Her breathing eased. She rolled her neck once, feeling the tension bleed out with every shift.
"Better," she muttered to herself.
"Alright," Kimiko said, returning the bottle to her pouch and securing it tightly. "I need to report back to Kakashi-sensei. I think we've got a mission tomorrow, so he's probably calling us in for a briefing."
"Good idea," Hayate replied, brushing his hand against his coat. "No use getting on Kakashi's bad side. He'll just make you climb trees for hours." He coughed again, but his grin stayed intact. "Take care."
"Say hello to Kakashi for me," Yugao added, tilting her head slightly as she watched Kimiko.
Kimiko glanced between them, giving them both a small smile. It wasn't the brightest smile, but it was real. She brought her hands together in a quick, practiced motion, fingers forming the hand seal for a Body Flicker Technique.
"Will do."
There was a sharp burst of chakra at her feet, the subtle displacement of air kicking up loose dirt. With a soft poof of smoke, she was gone, leaving only the faint shimmer of her chakra's presence in the space where she once stood.
Kimiko was pleasantly surprised by the warmth of her return to the team — warmer than she could have ever imagined. Naruto was overjoyed to have her back, going out of his way to strike up conversations with her. Despite the lingering tension from their last argument — where he had all but called her a hypocrite for not relying on them — Kimiko knew his words had come from a place of love. Love from one of her earliest, truest friends. That made it easier to digest.
Sasuke, on the other hand, showed his appreciation in his own blunt way.
"Better than getting saddled with random genin who can't pull their weight," he'd muttered, his arms crossed, eyes looking anywhere but at her.
It was Sasuke's way of saying he missed her, even if he'd rather eat glass than admit it outright.
Kakashi, ever the enigma, didn't bring up the incident at all. No lectures. No scolding. It was as if it had never happened. But Kimiko caught it. The way his gaze lingered on her a second longer during training. The way Naruto's eyes shifted to her when he thought she wasn't paying attention. They were watching her. Not distrustful, just... watchful. She didn't blame them.
Even so, Team 7 quickly fell back into its familiar rhythm. It felt right.
If only the missions were as satisfying as their teamwork.
It was back to D-Rank drudgery — planting crops, picking up trash, walking dogs. A kunoichi of her caliber reduced to picking weeds out of a nobleman's estate. The monotony was soul-crushing. The only silver lining was getting to spend more time with her boys again. She liked to think they were just as grateful to have her back.
But even gratitude couldn't make garbage collection any less terrible.
Their latest mission had been to unclog a waterway of litter, which was every bit as disgusting as it sounded. Naruto, naturally, managed to slip on the wet edge of the bank and fall straight into the murky sludge. Kimiko's first instinct was to pull him out, but after catching a whiff of the smell coming off him, she reconsidered.
"Take a bath first," she'd said, crinkling her nose.
"WHAT?!" Naruto yelled, chest-deep in filth, thrashing about like a trapped fish. "I'm already soaked! Just pull me up!"
"Soap exists for a reason, Naruto."
It took both her and Sasuke to pull him free, each grabbing one of his arms. She was half-sure Sasuke would let go just to make a point, but to her surprise, he didn't.
As they made their way through to Konoha proper, (after forcing Naruto to bathe,) their conversation continued.
"You overdid it again," Kimiko sighed, brushing aside one of the loose curly strands framing her face. Her hair was styled in a loose ponytail, different from her usual style. She was still experimenting with it. "We talked about this."
"Like this idiot ever listens," muttered Sasuke, but his voice lacked its usual venom. His tone was softer, more resigned than irritated. Kimiko found that oddly comforting. If nothing else, she liked to believe her presence helped bridge the gap between them. They might still argue, but at least they did it side by side.
"Stop acting cool!" Naruto barked, pulling his arm free and shaking off the excess water like a wet dog. His eyes narrowed with mock defiance, pointing straight at Sasuke. "Just wait till we get another real mission. You'll see how strong I got! I definitely surpassed you!"
Sasuke let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "All talk. No action."
"Oh yeah?! Watch me!" Naruto growled, his cheeks puffing in frustration.
"Play nice, boys," Kimiko said dryly, glancing at both of them like an older sister scolding her little brothers.
Ahead of them, Kakashi didn't even glance back.
He was walking just a few paces ahead, engrossed in his book as usual, turning pages with one hand like this was the most natural thing in the world. Kimiko was certain he heard every word of their bickering — he always did — but he made no effort to stop them.
"Hey, sensei," Kimiko called out, brushing her curls behind her ear. "Since we finished early, don't you think it's time for us to have another group trai—"
She stopped mid-sentence.
Her eyes followed Kakashi's gaze to the sky, where a black bird soared through the air. It wasn't just any bird. It was a messenger bird — sleek, fast, and direct. An 's sharp eyes noticed how Kakashi's expression subtly shifted, like a stone thrown into still water. He knew what it meant.
"...Next time," Kakashi said curtly, his voice more serious than usual. "We'll call it a day here. I need to hand in my mission reports."
Before Kimiko or the others could reply, he vanished. A single flicker of movement, and he was gone.
"Well, I'm going home," said Sasuke, already walking away. "Unless you have any smart ideas, Kimiko?"
"Why do you never ask if I have good ideas?" Naruto interjected, arms crossed in a huff.
Sasuke ignored him, as always.
"Don't worry, Naruto. I recognize your potential," Kimiko teased with a small grin, turning her attention back to Sasuke. "And you, Uchiha, don't be in such a hurry. We can still train without Kakashi-sensei, you know."
"Pass." Sasuke shoved his hands into his pockets, not even glancing back.
"We don't need him, anyway," Naruto declared, puffing up with determination. "We can train by—"
Kimiko's brows raised slightly. She felt it. A familiar chakra signature.
"Hold on," she said. "Sakura's coming."
Seconds later, Sakura's voice echoed from across the path. "Kimiko-chan!" Her pink hair bobbed as she jogged toward them, waving her hand with a bright smile.
Kimiko noted the new Konoha Medical Corps uniform Sakura wore — the standard tunic with gloves. It was a sign of progress. Growth. She smiled in approval, already knowing Sakura had likely been helping out at the hospital again. Good. She's coming into her own.
But then, Kimiko saw the shift. Sakura's eyes locked on Sasuke, and for a moment, all that self-assurance faded. Her steps faltered, her cheeks lightly flushed.
Ah. Still hopelessly smitten.
"Hello, Sakura," Kimiko greeted smoothly, her tone warm and even. "How can I help?"
"Oh, sorry! Kurenai-sensei told me you'd be here," Sakura explained, eyes flicking nervously to Sasuke, then back to Kimiko. "I ran into her and Team 10, and she wanted you to know your training with her is delayed. Something urgent came up."
Kimiko blinked. Nee-san never cancels on me.
She glanced toward the sky again. Two jonin unavailable at once?
Her fingers tapped lightly against her side. Something was off.
"That's alright," she said slowly, her voice calm but thoughtful. "Thanks for letting me know, Sakura-chan."
Sakura nodded, but she wasn't paying attention anymore. Her gaze had returned to Sasuke.
"H-Hi, Sasuke-kun!" she stammered, her hands fidgeting at her sides. Her nerves got the better of her, her voice trembling just enough to be noticeable. "I was, um, wondering if you'd like t—"
"Kimiko," Sasuke cut in, not even looking at Sakura. "You mentioned training. Let's spar." He shifted his gaze to Kimiko, eyes sharp and unreadable. "I haven't shown you how my Sharingan works yet. I'm tired of fighting Naruto."
Kimiko tilted her head, arms crossed. "So you're saying I'm worthy to spar with now? How gracious, Uchiha-sama."
Sasuke scoffed. "Don't read too much into it. I'll go home first. Meet me at the usual spot." He raised one hand to wave dismissively as he strode off.
"Arrogant just because you have those eyes," Kimiko called after him, her grin sharp but playful. "Don't worry, Sakura. I'll thrash him for you."
Sakura looked away, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "He'd rather talk to you," Sakura muttered with a frown, eyes flicking toward Sasuke's distant figure.
Kimiko glanced at her, eyes soft with quiet understanding. "Don't mind Uchiha," she said, reaching out to give Sakura's hand a gentle squeeze. "He's just... Sasuke."
Sakura sighed, her shoulders slumping. But Kimiko's words must have reached her because she squeezed back, however lightly.
"Oi! Quit messing with me, brat!"
The sudden shout drew Kimiko's attention. Her eyes shifted toward the commotion, and there he was—Naruto, arms flailing like a caught fish—surrounded by three familiar kids.
She recognized one of them instantly. other two clicked into place moments later. The spiky-haired girl was Moegi, and the kid with the perpetual snot bubble hanging from his nose? Kimiko had to admit they looked cute with their "Naruto-style goggles." It was charming in a messy, chaotic kind of way.
"Konohamaru-kun," Kimiko called out, strolling toward them with practiced ease. "Did Naruto-kun promise to play ninja with you guys?"
"Oh! Kimiko-senpai!" Konohamaru practically beamed, his eyes lighting up with admiration. His little hands waved wildly.
Kimiko giggled, reaching over to ruffle his hair. "Didn't I tell you to keep that hair neat? You'll never be Hokage looking like a mop."
"Do you wanna play ninja with us too, Kimiko-senpai?" asked Moegi, looking up at her with wide, hopeful eyes.
Kimiko knelt down just slightly, resting her hands on her knees. "I'd love to, but your 'boss' Naruto and I have training to do. Unless, of course, he's fine with Sasuke surpassing him."
Naruto's eyes shot wide open like a kunai had been thrown past his ear. "WHAT?! No way that bastard's beating me!" He spun on his heel, jabbing a thumb into his chest. "I'm gonna master, like, five jutsu by sundown!"
Kimiko's grin widened as she stood, dusting off her knees. "Then you'd better get started, 'boss.'"
"Aw, man!" Konohamaru groaned, slouching like the world had just thrown all its burdens on his tiny back. "No fair! You guys are too busy to play ninja with us?"
"Why is a real ninja playing ninja anyway?" Sakura's dry voice cut in as she strolled up behind them, her arms crossed and her eyes set on Naruto like he was an especially annoying housefly.
"Hey, Naruto-nii-san, who's the babe?" Konohamaru asked, pointing straight at Sakura with the grace of a thrown kunai.
The shift in Sakura's demeanor was immediate. Her eyes twitched. Her fingers curled.
Naruto's laugh was shaky and uneven. "S-Sakura-chan, don't look at me like that! He's just a kid, you know how kids are, haha…" He turned away, rubbing the back of his head like it'd somehow save him.
But Konohamaru wasn't done. His eyes darted between Naruto, Sakura, and Kimiko like he was putting together a puzzle. He rubbed his chin, nodding to himself like a seasoned detective.
"Wait… given how smart, strong, and suave you are…" he mumbled, deep in thought.
Kimiko's brow raised. Here it comes.
"Is she your girlfriend, big bro Naruto?" he declared with a dramatic point toward Sakura. "I get it now! That's why you're too busy to train with us! You're out here being lovey-dovey with your girl!"
Sakura's face turned cherry red.
"N-Not a chance!" she snapped, fists raised, eyes wild with full shinobi fury.
"Haha, these kids are sharp," Naruto said, laughing nervously, backing away like a man who just realized he'd triggered a bear trap. "I mean, I do have charm, right? I'm kind of irresistible, you kn—"
CRACK.
Sakura's fist drove into Naruto's skull, dropping him like a bad habit. The kids winced. Moegi covered her eyes. Udon's snot bubble popped. Silence followed.
Naruto lay face-down in the dirt, limbs sprawled out. "W-Worth it…" he mumbled weakly.
Kimiko sighed, stepping forward to place herself between Sakura's wrath and Naruto's prone body. Her gaze met Sakura's, and her voice was cool and patient.
"Alright, alright," she said, raising a hand in a "calm down" gesture. "No more brawling, okay? Naruto, stop provoking people. Sakura, let's breathe together, one, two, three…"
Sakura shot her a glare sharper than a kunai. "I AM breathing, Kimiko-chan."
Kimiko raised a brow. "Then breathe better."
Sakura sucked her teeth but didn't argue. Kimiko turned to Konohamaru, folding her arms.
"And you," she said with a pointed stare. "Apologize."
Konohamaru squirmed like a kid caught stealing sweets. He glanced left. Then right. No escape.
"…I'm sorry." He bowed his head, his voice just a little too quiet to be sincere.
"For what?" Kimiko pressed. Her tone was sweet, but her eyes? Unyielding.
His eyes darted to his friends, but there would be no help from Moegi or Udon, who slowly inched backward like captains abandoning a sinking ship.
"…I'm sorry for calling Big Bro Naruto's girlfriend a 'babe' and saying she had a big forehead."
Silence.
Kimiko winced. "You fool."
Sakura's shadow loomed over Konohamaru. Her fingers cracked one by one. The light behind her dimmed, and for a moment, the aura around her was something close to demonic.
"Excuse me?" Sakura's voice was so low, so calm, it could only be the calm before a storm.
"Konohamaru, run," Moegi whispered like a prayer.
"RUN!" Udon screeched.
Meanwhile, Naruto lay face-down in the dirt where Sakura had left him, his limbs still twitching. The imprint of Sakura's fist was visibly embedded on the side of his skull, like a stamp from a very angry postal worker.
Kimiko crouched next to him, nudging him with her finger. "You alive down there?"
Naruto groaned like a dying man. "Everything hurts, Kimiko-chan…" His face was half-buried in the dirt, his voice muffled but pitiful. "Why does she hit so hard…?"
Kimiko rolled her eyes. "Because you keep talking." She grabbed his arm and slung it over her shoulders, lifting him with one smooth motion. Her slim frame barely wavered under his weight, though she felt the slight pull of strain in her arms.
Naruto let out a small "oof" as he was hoisted upright. "You're too strong, you know that?"
"You say that every time I carry you." Kimiko's tone was as smooth as the gentle ripple of water, calm and knowing. She pulled him to his feet, letting him lean on her. "Come on. We'd better make sure Sakura doesn't actually kill those kids."
Naruto blinked, his brain slowly catching up. "Wait, wait, wait— you think she'd actually do it?"
Kimiko glanced at him, eyes flat, expression deadpan. "Naruto, she buried you face-first in the dirt for talking too much. Those kids called her a 'forehead babe.'"
Naruto's eyes went wide with realization. He sucked in a sharp breath. "…Those kids are dead."
"Yes, they are."
It didn't take long for them to catch up to the group, and it was right at the moment that Konohamaru bumped into something.
Or rather, someone.
Sakura's voice echoed louder this time, cutting through the air like a thunderclap. "KONOHAMARU, I SWEAR I'M GONNA PLANT YOU IN THE—"
Her voice came to an abrupt stop as she caught sight of the scene in front of her. Kimiko and Naruto followed close behind, just in time to see it. Konohamaru was on the ground, rubbing his head. His face scrunched in pain as he looked up at the man he'd just run into.
The man's face was painted with two streaks of purple war paint, his mouth twisted in annoyance. His black, bunraku-style outfit clung to his frame, and something large—something wrapped in cloth—was strapped to his back.
Kankuro.
Next to him stood a blonde girl with spiky, sand-colored hair. She wore teal-lined clothing, and on her back was a massive folded fan that she carried with ease. Her sharp teal eyes glanced around with boredom, like she was already tired of the situation.
Temari.
Kimiko didn't need to check their forehead protectors to recognize them. She already knew who they were.
Temari and Kankuro.
If they're here, then… crap. I lost track of time.
"KONOHAMARU!" Naruto's shout echoed like a siren.
Just as he called out, Kankuro reached down and grabbed Konohamaru by the scruff of his shirt, lifting him into the air with one hand. Konohamaru's feet kicked wildly, flailing like a fish caught in a net.
"That hurt, brat," Kankuro sneered, his eyes narrowing on Konohamaru with disdain.
"I'm sorry!" Sakura's earlier anger drained into fear. Her hands shot up in a show of surrender. "It's my fault! I was chasing them around!"
Kankuro didn't even glance at her. His grip on Konohamaru's shirt tightened, and his fingers bunched the fabric into his palm, squeezing like a vice. Konohamaru coughed, his breath coming out in a wheeze.
"Knock it off," Temari muttered, not even looking up from her nails. "You're gonna get in even more trouble."
Her casual indifference made something in Kimiko's chest twist.
They'll be allies one day. She knew that. She knew it from the story she remembered. But right now, she could only see them as the enemy. Ninjas from a village planning to betray them. Enemies already plotting to destroy her home.
And now, one of those enemies was dangling a child in front of her like a cat toying with a mouse.
Her fingers twitched at her side.
"PUT HIM DOWN, YOU BIG APE!" Naruto's voice boomed louder this time. His face was red with rage, his hands curled into fists.
Kankuro glanced at Naruto, his eyes narrowing with bemusement. Then he grinned. A lazy, crooked grin that dripped with mockery. "Heh. I just wanna play with him for a little while," Kankuro drawled, his eyes still on Konohamaru. "You don't mind, do ya?"
Kimiko caught the subtle flick of Naruto's fingers, and her eyes narrowed. Hand seals. Shadow Clone Jutsu.
She didn't react, nor did she draw her tanto. Her eyes stayed locked on Kankuro.
"Let go!" Konohamaru choked out, his legs kicking harder, his small frame wriggling in the air.
Kankuro snorted. "You're pretty lively, punk." He gave Konohamaru a small shake, making his head jerk forward. "I hate brats like you. Noisy little runts thinkin' they're tough."
"It hurts…" Konohamaru's voice was small now, breathy, strained.
"You're ticking me off," Kankuro muttered, curling his fingers tighter. His voice dropped an octave, colder now, with none of the earlier mockery. "Bad enough you're short, but disrespecting your elders?" He raised Konohamaru higher, his eyes narrowing into a glare. "Makes me wanna snap you like a twig."
Temari tilted her head, arms folded. "I'm not getting involved. This is all on you, Kankuro." Her tone was so disinterested that it made Kimiko's skin crawl. She didn't even look at Konohamaru.
That was the last straw.
Her fingers curled into a fist.
Kankuro cocked his arm back, his hand curling into a fist, ready to swing it forward—
A blur of orange from nowhere.
—and then Konohamaru was gone.
"Huh?" Kankuro's eyes darted to his now-empty hand. "What the—?"
The real Naruto stood a few feet away, holding Konohamaru in his arms. The clone Naruto he'd been staring at beside Kimiko burst into smoke.
Ah. That's what he was planning. Distracting Kankuro with a shadow clone so he could find the best opportunity to save Konohamaru.
The quickness of it startled Kankuro, and he immediately reached for his chakra threads, his fingers twitching in sharp, precise movements. Temari, too, seemed to stir, but before they could move—
Whsssh-THUNK!
Two senbon flew past them, so fast that the air whistled from their speed. They lodged themselves firmly into the tree behind the two, buried halfway into the bark.
Both Kankuro and Temari's eyes snapped to the direction they came from.
Kimiko.
She was already gone.
Her figure blurred, and suddenly, she was standing right between them.
One hand hovered near her tanto, while the other hand held two more senbon, nestled perfectly between her knuckles like hidden fangs. She didn't move, didn't sway.
Her eyes locked onto Kankuro. Her eyes were cold. Freezing cold. And she made sure she saw just how quickly she could toss her senbon and find his throat.
"F-Fast…" Kankuro muttered.
Temari twitched, her hand moving toward her fan—
"Don't."
Kimiko's voice was low and sharp, like a blade unsheathing an inch from its scabbard. Her eyes moved from Kankuro to Temari, locking eyes with her. "Judging from your head protectors, you're ninjas from Sunakagure," She started, her voice steely. "I don't know what kind of savagery you people practice in that backwater sandpit of yours, but in Konoha, we don't hurt children."
The silence that followed was as sharp as glass.
Temari's eyes smoldered, rage and irritation bubbling, her fingers twitching. But she didn't move.
"Tch." Temari's jaw tightened, but she lowered her hands.
Kimiko's eyes didn't move. Her gaze stayed on Temari for a moment longer, then slowly, she spoke.
"Sasuke, you plan on introducing yourself, or are you just gonna sit there watching the show?"
A light chuckle echoed from above.
"Heh."
Kankuro barely had time to process it before a small rock hit him in the face.
"Tch—" He winced, snapping his head toward the source. His face twisted in a mixture of irritation and confusion.
Sitting lazily on a tree branch, tossing another rock up and down in his hand, was Sasuke Uchiha. His eyes half-lidded like he was on break.
"I was enjoying the show," Sasuke drawled, tossing the pebble up once more before catching it in his palm. "But I guess I can make an appearance."
Kimiko glanced at him, a small nod given to him.
"Took you long enough."
Sasuke leaned back on the branch, resting his head against the trunk like he had all the time in the world. He bounced another rock up and down on his hand "Wanted to see if you had it under control." His gaze moved lazily from Kankuro to Temari
"Looks like you did."
"Mm, glad you're here, though." Kimiko's voice was smooth, casual, but her gaze had already shifted away from Sasuke. Her eyes locked onto a branch just a few meters to his right, her posture calm but firm.
"I believe it's time to show yourself." Her tone was polite, but there was an undercurrent of authority in her voice. She was really glad she watched the anime. Her chakra sensed picked up on a faint, obscured scent, like hints of sand trickling down, but it wasn't enough to be conclusive. Only the fact that she actually knew someone was there made her so sure.
Sasuke's eyes narrowed, his gaze following the direction of Kimiko's focus. At first, there was nothing—just the stillness of leaves swaying gently with the breeze. No sound. No obvious presence. His eyes didn't catch any flicker of movement.
Then, his eyes widened ever so slightly.
A soft shift of weight. A subtle, unnatural sway of leaves.
"Tch," Sasuke muttered, his fingers curling in preparation for a counter, but it was already too late.
From the shadows of the branch, a figure slowly came into view.
A boy with crimson-red hair and sunken eyes, upside down like a specter hanging from the branch by his feet. The gourd strapped to his back shifted lightly with his weight, grains of sand spilling faintly from its edges like leaking grains from an hourglass.
He hung there like a bat, his head tilted just enough to meet Kimiko's eyes.
"...You sensed me?" Gaara of the Sand's voice was low, soft, and unnervingly hollow. His teal eyes lingered on Kimiko like he was observing something not quite human. "...Interesting."
"You're good," Kimiko said, her tone as light as a breeze. Her eyes were calm, steady. "But you're not a ghost."
For a moment, silence hung in the air like an unspoken challenge. Gaara didn't blink, his gaze unwavering as he studied her. Slowly, he shifted his gaze toward his two siblings.
"You two are an embarrassment to our village," Gaara said quietly, but his voice carried a weight that seemed to press down on them. "It's bad enough you lost control in a petty fight. But to get embarrassed by the people you picked on? Did you forget the reason we came here in the first place?"
Kankuro flinched, his face contorting into a mix of frustration and panic. His teeth ground together before he spoke. "But Gaara, they start—"
"Shut up." Gaara's voice dropped like a stone, sharp and final. There was no shout, no anger — just pure, quiet authority. "I'll kill you,"
"Y-Yeah," Kankuro muttered, swallowing hard. He glanced at Temari for support, but she raised her hands in a show of peace.
"We're sorry, alright?" Temari said, her eyes flicking to Gaara with barely concealed fear. "It won't happen again."
Kimiko's eyes narrowed, watching the two of them closely. She already knew why they feared him. It wasn't just because of his skill. It wasn't even because of his ruthlessness. No, it was because of what he was. A jinchūriki. The One-Tailed Beast, Shukaku, was sealed inside that boy. She knew that at this point in the story, Gaara was an absolute monster—one that even his own family wasn't safe from.
Gaara's teal eyes flicked toward Kimiko, Sasuke and Naruto once more, slowly turning his head upside down to face them. "Apologies for that."
He hung there, feet rooted to the underside of the tree branch like a bat.
And then, he moved.
Gaara vanished in a swirling cascade of sand, each grain descending like the final grains of an hourglass. It all happened in an instant. Kimiko's eyes flicked to her left, and she turned her head just slightly.
He materialized a few meters away, and Kimiko stepped aside, letting his siblings move beside him.
"Let's go," Gaara finally said, still staring at Kimiko. His tone was eerily calm, like he was giving an afterthought, not an order. He didn't turn away as he addressed his siblings. "We didn't come here to play around."
Kankuro glanced at him and quickly nodded. "R-Right, yeah, yeah, let's go." He glanced at Temari and nudged her. "Come on, let's get out of here."
Temari's lips curled into a tight scowl as she glared at Kimiko. She didn't look afraid, but there was something defensive in her stance. As if she had something to prove.
But before they could take a step, Sakura stepped forward.
"Wait!" she called out, her voice sharp and loud. All eyes turned toward her, and she immediately tensed. Her hands twitched slightly at her sides, but she didn't move back. She didn't run.
"We know that the Land of Fire and the Land of Wind are allies," Sakura began, her voice stronger than expected. Her gaze shifted between Gaara and Temari, staying off Kankuro completely. "But unrestricted shinobi travel between villages is forbidden. So please… state your purpose." Her words were a little shaky at first, but her tone was resolute.
Kimiko blinked, surprised.
Even when scared, Sakura did what was right.
For a moment, there was only silence. Kimiko's eyes flicked toward Gaara, then to Temari and Kankuro. She watched their faces carefully, noting the flicker of surprise in Temari's eyes. Kankuro, meanwhile, looked like he wanted to groan.
"So this is what they mean," Temari said, placing a hand on her hip, "when they say the darkest place is under the candlestick." Her voice carried a mocking tone, smooth but sharp. Her eyes shifted toward Sakura as if she'd spotted a particularly dumb question on an exam. She reached into her pouch, pulling out a small scroll. With a flick of her wrist, she unrolled it, revealing the official travel papers with the Wind Daimyo's mark clear as day.
"Here," she said, holding the paper up for them to see. "Satisfied? It's authorizing us to travel freely for the Chuunin Exams." Temari raised an eyebrow at Sakura, her smirk growing. "Don't they teach you this stuff in your fancy ninja school?"
Sakura blinked, eyes flicking to the paper, her face flushing with embarrassment.
Kimiko's gaze never left Temari. She noted the way Temari's voice shifted. It wasn't just arrogance. It was something more. Insecurity disguised as confidence. People like Temari acted like this when they knew they weren't in control.
"So that means…" Kimiko said slowly, her eyes narrowing as if she was fitting puzzle pieces together. Her tone was deliberately drawn out, letting the silence linger just a second too long.
"Yeah," Temari replied, exhaling like she was tired of all this. She rolled up the scroll and tucked it back into her pouch. Her arms crossed over her chest, eyes sharp but no longer playful. "We're genin from Sunagakure. And we're here for the Chuunin Exams."
"What's the Chuunin Exams?" asked Naruto, stepping beside Kimiko with one arm draped protectively around Konohamaru. His eyes flicked from Kimiko to where Gaara and his siblings were still walking away, their backs turned.
Kimiko's eyes remained locked on the Sand siblings, her gaze sharp, assessing every movement. "It's the exams you take to get promoted from genin to chuunin," she said idly, barely sparing him a glance. "I'll explain it more later."
"Oi," Sasuke's voice cut in from the side as his form reappeared in a silent flicker of movement. He stood on Kimiko's other side, his arms tucked into his pockets as he eyed the three Suna nin. His gaze lingered on Gaara, eyes narrowing with something like intrigue — or maybe suspicion.
Sasuke called, tilting his head slightly. "What's your name?"
Temari stopped walking, her whole body tensing. She spun around with a startled look, eyes slightly wide. "M-Me?" she stammered, one hand on her chest, blushing.
"No," Sasuke deadpanned. His eyes never left Gaara. "The gourd."
Kankuro scowled, his lips pulling into a sneer, but Gaara raised a hand, stopping him before he could speak. Slowly, Gaara turned his head, his teal eyes locking onto Sasuke with the steady, unflinching gaze of a predator sizing up another predator.
"...Gaara of the Desert," Gaara said simply. His voice was calm, quiet, and unnervingly direct, like he was just commenting on the weather. His gaze didn't linger on Sasuke for long, though. Slowly, his eyes shifted toward Naruto. Then Kimiko. His eyes lingered on her for just a moment longer than the others, his expression unreadable.
"...I have an interest in you and your team as well," he said plainly. "What are your names?"
Kimiko's brow lifted slightly. Ah. I see. She remembered how it went in the anime. Gaara had dismissed Naruto after he'd tripped while trying to save Konohamaru. But this time, Naruto hadn't just saved Konohamaru — he'd used strategy, shadow clone misdirection, and timing to do it. No doubt Gaara had noticed. And as for Kimiko herself, she figured her speed and sensory skills had piqued his interest as well.
"Uzumaki, Naruto," said Naruto, standing taller and grinning wide. His arm pulled Konohamaru in a little closer, like he was trying to flex in front of Gaara. "Don't forget it."
"Yuhi, Kimiko," Kimiko said coolly, meeting Gaara's gaze with her own. Her voice didn't waver. If you're going to stare at me like I'm a threat, I'll stare back.
There was no reply from Gaara.
His eyes lingered on her for another heartbeat before he turned away. Sand crumbled beneath his feet, swirling gently as he moved. His siblings glanced at him, then each other, before following his lead. As they walked away, they moved with a newfound quietness, as if something had changed.
"You guys were so cool!" said Konohamaru, his face lighting up with admiration. His small hands gripped tighter on Naruto's jacket, his smile wide and toothy. "Especially you, big bro Naruto! You were like BAM and then WHOOSH and then you just GRABBED me like it was nothin'!"
Naruto scratched the back of his head, letting out a sheepish laugh. "Heh, yeah, yeah, I guess I was pretty cool, huh?"
"T-they were scary," Sakura muttered, her hands gripping the hem of her dress as she glanced over her shoulder. She moved a little closer to Kimiko, her eyes darting to where the Suna nin had vanished. Her expression was tense, and her body language said it all — she knew she was out of her depth.
Kimiko reached down and gently patted Sakura on the back. "You're not wrong." She didn't sugarcoat it, but she didn't let it linger, either. Fear was fine — letting it rule you wasn't.
Sasuke didn't say a word. His eyes stayed on the empty space where Gaara had been, his gaze sharp and calculating, like he was replaying the entire encounter in his head. His fists were in his pockets, but his fingers flexed every few seconds. He's thinking about him. Already excited at the prospect of a new opponent.
Kimiko glanced at him briefly, then her eyes shifted to the sky.
I wonder whether we'll be strong enough to come out of these exams better.
"Alright," she said finally, breaking the quiet. Her hands dropped to rest on the heads of Moegi and Udon, the two of them still clinging to her sides like ducklings. They'd stopped shaking at some point, and now they were just quiet, looking up at her like she was invincible.
"That was an eventful first meeting," Kimiko added, her smile soft but thoughtful. "No point dwelling on it. Sasuke, Naruto, Sakura — do you want to grab lunch together? We can talk about the Chūnin Exams then."
Naruto's eyes lit up with childish excitement. "OH! Can we get Ichiraku Ramen?! I bet they'll let me have extra pork if I tell 'em I just saved a kid from a freaky puppet guy!" He grinned, already imagining it.
Sasuke glanced at him, half-expecting to feel the urge to shoot down his idea. But for once, he didn't say anything.
Sakura, however, glanced down at her hands, a look of regret crossing her face. "O-Oh. I need to head to the hospital," she said, rubbing her arm. Her eyes flicked to Kimiko. "Hinagawa-san asked me to help out in the lab today."
Kimiko's brow lifted in mild surprise. "Already assisting with medical work?" she asked, her tone light but genuinely curious.
"Yeah," Sakura muttered, rubbing the back of her neck with a small smile. "She said I'm good at it. And, well… I'm learning a lot." Her fingers flexed a little, and her smile turned into something smaller, but more real. "I don't want to fall behind."
Kimiko's gaze lingered on her for a moment. Her expression softened, her eyes crinkling with quiet pride. "Good. Stay ahead of them."
The words made Sakura blink, her lips parting slightly. Then, slowly, her face lit up with a small, determined grin. "Yeah. I will."
"Alright, take care," Kimiko said, patting Sakura lightly on the shoulder before looking back at Naruto and Sasuke. "That just leaves the three of us." She looked at the two boys with a knowing grin. "You guys up for ramen, or do I have to drag you there?"
"Tch. Like you could drag me anywhere," Sasuke muttered, rolling his eyes. But he was already walking.
Naruto pointed at him with a cocky grin. "Ha! I see you, Sasuke! You're already walking there! You know I'm right!"
"Shut up, loser," Sasuke muttered without turning around. But there was no venom in it.
Naruto barked out a laugh and threw his arm over Konohamaru's shoulder, giving him a playful shake. "See that, Konohamaru? You gotta watch out for guys like him. They talk big, but they always fold when ramen's on the line."
Kimiko smiled to herself, her eyes drifting upward, her gaze following the gentle sway of the trees as she walked at the rear of the group. Naruto and Sasuke bickered ahead of her, while Konohamaru rattled off his latest "cool ninja ideas" to an unusually patient Moegi and Udon. It was a peaceful scene.
Her eyes moved, slow and subtle, like she was just admiring the scenery. But her gaze found them. Unlike Gaara, she could perfectly sense them.
There.
Perched above them on the broad branches of a tall tree were three figures. Their outlines were faint against the shifting leaves, but the chakra told her more than sight ever could. Their energy was dense and sharp, thrumming like a low hum beneath her skin.
Her eyes locked on them. Dosu. Zaku. Kin.
The three of them went still. Like cornered animals.
Kimiko's face remained calm, eyes lidded, her movements never faltering as she walked beneath them. She didn't slow. She didn't stop. Her gaze lingered just long enough for them to know. I see you. I know you're there.
Her stare wasn't one of fear. It wasn't even one of caution. It was a warning to not introduce themselves. That they should bide their time and try again next time.
The three blinked, their surprise poorly hidden behind their masks of indifference. Zaku's lips twitched, his eyes narrowing. Kin tilted her head just slightly, her face unreadable, but her eyes darted toward Dosu like she was waiting for orders. Dosu remained still, his eyes sharp behind his bandages, gaze narrowed, calculating.
Kimiko didn't say a word. She didn't need to, and she looked back into the road, heading into lunch with her team.
As she expected, Naruto was exuberant at the prospect of the Chuunin Exams. While the three of them sat at Ichiraku Ramen, he loudly declared between mouthfuls of noodles, "I'm totally gonna crush this exam and become a Chuunin! Believe it!"
Sasuke snorted, chopsticks poised mid-air as he glanced at Naruto with that trademark, unimpressed gaze. "With an attitude like that, you'll be the first one out."
"WHAT DID YOU SAY, TEME?!" Naruto barked, nearly knocking his bowl off the counter as he pointed an accusatory finger at Sasuke.
"Stop shouting. You'll scare the customers," Kimiko said lightly
Her eyes lowered, gaze fixed on the rippling surface of her ramen. She'd been quiet for most of the meal, her mind occupied with something much heavier than ramen or their usual banter. Her thoughts were tangled, replaying the events that she knew were bound to happen.
She knew what the Chuunin Exams truly entailed. She didn't doubt her team's ability to face the challenges ahead — in fact, Naruto and Sasuke were far stronger than their canon selves. With the training they'd undergone and the teamwork they'd built, they were operating leagues above what she had once expected of them.
The fact that they'd made the Sand Siblings look like amateurs in their first encounter only reinforced that belief. As individuals, as a team, they were strong. But that didn't make her fear any less real.
The Kazekage was already dead. Orochimaru had killed him, or was about to. She knew what was coming. She knew what lay ahead for Konoha: chaos, death, and destruction. No amount of strategy could change it, and no clever plan would be enough to stop the storm that loomed on the horizon. She knew the invasion was coming. And yet...
There was nothing she could do to stop it.
She took a slow breath, forcing herself to steady her heart.
You already went through this, she reminded herself. Don't get caught up in guilt. If you focus on something you can't control, you'll freeze up. Move forward. Do what you can with what's in front of you.
The next few days passed without much fanfare, filled with the usual training, errands, and D-rank missions. But then, the moment came.
"Ugh, I've had it with Sensei," Naruto groaned, leaning against the bridge's railing with his arms slung over it, his eyes fixed on the flowing water below.
Kimiko stood beside him, arms crossed as she gazed into the river's reflection. Her curly black hair, tied back into a loose ponytail, swayed gently in the breeze. Beside her, Sasuke sat on the railing, eyes half-lidded with boredom.
"Yeah," Kimiko muttered, "he's late again." Her tone was light but knowing. "He's close, though."
On cue, a figure flickered into view above them, perched casually atop the bridge's arch like he'd been there for hours.
"Yo," said Kakashi, waving lazily from his vantage point. "Sorry about that. Got lost on the path of life."
"YOU'RE LYING!" Naruto bellowed, jabbing a finger toward him. "Can you at least PRETEND to feel bad?!"
Kakashi ignored him, dusting off his vest as he hopped down in front of them. He reached into his pouch, pulling out three folded pieces of paper. "Anyway, I've recommended all three of you for the Chuunin Exams."
He handed them each a slip. Naruto stared at the form like it was made of gold, eyes wide with disbelief. Then, his face split into a grin so bright it could have rivaled the sun.
"KAKASHI-SENSEI, I LOVE YOU!" he shouted, leaping onto his teacher like a barnacle attaching to a ship.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm flattered," Kakashi muttered, halfheartedly trying to peel Naruto off like gum stuck to his sleeve. "Now get off me. You're embarrassing me."
Naruto finally let go, still bouncing on the balls of his feet like he was too excited to stand still.
Kakashi tilted his head, his gaze sharpening slightly. "Just so you know, the exam is entirely voluntary. If you don't feel ready, you can sit it out." He paused, letting his visible eye crinkle with amusement. "Then again, I doubt that'll happen. My students are a knucklehead, an Uchiha prodigy, and someone who decided that poisoning herself was a good idea because she thinks she's too weak after handling an A rank mission as a genin. I think you'll be fine."
Kimiko narrowed her eyes at him, cheeks heating in mild embarrassment. "Was that necessary?"
"Yes," Kakashi said, entirely unapologetic. "Anyway, submit your applications at the Academy — Room 301, four o'clock sharp, one week from today." With that, he flickered out of existence like a passing breeze.
Naruto, of course, was still riding high on the news. He raised both arms like a champion. "Heck yeah! The Chuunin Exams, baby!"
Sasuke glanced at the form in his hand, turning it over with a critical eye. "About time," he muttered, slipping it into his pocket. "I've been ready."
Kimiko sighed, stepping forward and grabbing both of their hands. It had become a quiet habit of hers lately — holding onto them, physically linking them together. She wasn't sure when it started, but it felt like it anchored all of them in some way.
Sasuke had resisted at first, always tensing up whenever she grabbed his hand. But now, his fingers relaxed easily in her grip. He'd grown used to it. Meanwhile, Naruto leaned in eagerly, like he was getting a rare treat.
They walked in sync, Sasuke to her right, Naruto to her left.
"Chuunin Exams, huh?" Kimiko said softly. "I wonder what kind of competition we'll face."
Naruto's grin turned sly. "Doesn't matter. I'll win."
Sasuke's smirk mirrored his. "In your dreams, dobe."
Kimiko's lips curled into a smile, her eyes glimmering with challenge. "You're both wrong."
She glanced between them with that familiar, playful edge in her tone. "It's obvious I'll be the one to win."
Both boys turned to her at the same time, eyes sharp, as if they couldn't believe she'd just declared that.
"Oh yeah?" Naruto growled, squeezing her hand with new determination. "You better not cry when I'm standing at the top, Kimiko-chan."
"Tch, she's dreaming," Sasuke muttered, shooting her a sideways glance.
"We'll see," Kimiko replied, her voice as serene as ever.
The intensity of their training only increased after that. Kimiko threw herself into it with relentless focus, barely sparing time for anything else. Team exercises. Solo drills. Sparring. Strategy meetings. Every day was filled to the brim, and for a while, she became something of a shut-in with her team. It wasn't obsession, but the spark of something close to it.
Shinku and Kurenai, of course, had something to say about it.
"Total privation only harms the body," her father had reminded her one night at dinner. "Training is a cycle. You break yourself down and then build yourself up. Forget the second part, and you only end up broken."
Kurenai had been more blunt. "Don't burn yourself out before the Chuunin Exams even begin." Her sister's words carried the authority of experience. She knew Kimiko wouldn't argue — not against her.
Kimiko tried to pace herself after that. "Tried" being the key word.
One evening, as she returned from solo training, she stumbled across a peculiar sight on her way back to the main thoroughfare.
Her father, Shinku Yuhi, stood at the other end of the clearing, his gaze sharp and commanding. His sword was stabbed firmly into the ground, both hands resting atop the hilt like a monument to patience.
Kimiko arched a brow, tilting her head in mild confusion.
"Tou-san?" she called, stepping forward and bowing her head slightly out of habit. "I didn't expect to see you here. I'm just getting back from training."
"I've heard." Shinku's voice had dropped an octave, sharp and low. The kind of tone he used when he was being deadly serious. "Kimiko, I've been told by both your sensei and teachers that you're planning to take the Chuunin Exams."
Kimiko raised a brow. "That's right."
Her father's grip tightened on the sword's hilt. "You will not." His tone was as firm as steel. "You're far too young. And after that reckless debacle with the poison, it's clear you lack the maturity required to face such danger."
Kimiko blinked once, twice.
"Alright," she said, her voice utterly flat.
Shinku blinked as if he hadn't expected that response. "Y-Yes, good. I'm glad you understand." His voice wavered, and he straightened himself, clearly regaining his footing. "The Chuunin Exams are fraught with danger. It's not a simple matter of passing a test. Fresh genin like you are not ready for it — especially not one as irresponsible as you."
"Okay. I agree," she said simply, continuing to walk past him.
Silence.
It took him a second to realize she was walking away. His eyes followed her, narrowing slightly, his mouth opening and closing like he had more to say but didn't know how to say it. Kimiko could feel his gaze boring into the back of her head.
She sighed, stopping mid-step. Her shoulders slumped just a bit as she turned her head to face him, eyes glinting with something sharper than amusement.
"I'm going to tell my dad what you sound like when you're impersonating him, Iruka-sensei."
The figure froze.
His eyes twitched.
"Wh—"
Kimiko didn't wait. In one swift motion, she grabbed the sheathed tanto from her back and bopped him clean on the face. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it was strong enough to break the Transformation Jutsu.
Poof!
Smoke billowed.
When it cleared, standing before her was a familiar face — Iruka Umino, scratching the bridge of his nose with an awkward smile.
"Preliminary test?" Kimiko guessed, sliding her tanto back into its sheath with ease.
Iruka sighed, rubbing the red mark on his forehead. "Yeah. How'd you figure it out?"
Kimiko shrugged, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "For one, my dad would never tell me not to do something he wouldn't have done himself." Her eyes flicked up to meet his, unflinching. "Secondly, your chakra signature. It's like picking up on the sound of a familiar bell."
"Sharp as always," Iruka muttered, clearly annoyed but also a little impressed. "Kakashi-sensei wasn't lying about your sensory skills."
"How did Naruto and Sasuke do?" Kimiko asked casually, hands behind her back like she wasn't all that interested.
Iruka's mouth twitched. "Not at liberty to say," he said firmly, but when Kimiko tilted her head and gave him that wide-eyed, innocent look — the one she knew he was weak to — his resolve crumbled with an audible sigh.
"...They passed too," he muttered, folding his arms.
Kimiko smiled, leaning forward, her eyes glowing with warmth. "Good. I'm proud of them."
For a moment, Iruka's frown softened. "You're a good kid, you know that?" He scratched the back of his head, glancing at her with a quiet smile. "I worry about all of you, but… you make it really hard to stay worried for too long."
"Don't worry too much, Iruka-sensei." Her voice was gentle but firm, like someone repeating an old promise. "Remember what you told me about climbing mountains?"
Iruka let out a breathy laugh, looking down at her with an odd sort of pride. "Yeah. Of course you remember that." He rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. "Kakashi really does talk about your team a lot, you know. Makes it hard for people like me to tell you guys to slow down."
Kimiko's grin turned mischievous. "Speaking of which…"
Her eyes flicked up to him, sparkling with sudden playfulness.
"I'm telling my dad you impersonated him."
Her tone was so light, so casual, that it took him a second to register it.
"Wh—wait, hold on now!" Iruka yelped, reaching for her.
But Kimiko was already running.
"Bye, Iruka-sensei!" she called back, darting off with light, playful footsteps.
"KIMIKO, WAIT! I WAS JUST DOING MY JOB!" Iruka shouted as he chased after her, his voice echoing across the clearing like the calls of a desperate man.