Transmission #9-0-6-2. Designate: Kiken
聞いてください...
Послушай меня...
Ich will, dass ihr mich versteht...
Hört ihr mich..?
Can you see me...?
ты чувствуешь меня?
1400 hrs; December 6, 1963
Naruto wasn't surprised when she told him...
Of course she'd be chosen, he thinks.
And it makes him more worried to see the rest of his classmates on the list, too
All from group 1A, Shokku brigade, comrade-Proctor Iruka's division.
For years, they trained in Konoha's walls, ROOT's leash tight around their throats. Every mission, every test, every lesson drilled that they were weapons first, people second. They had learned to fight, to kill, to survive—but never to live. The training yard around them was still bustling—students checking gear, instructors barking orders, the rhythmic thunk of kunai embedding into practice dummies. But all of that seemed to blur into the background as he focused on Sakura, her hazy brown eyes looking directly at him.
"What?" he goes, forcing a grin.
Sakura shifted on her feet. "Naruto, come on. This is good news. We're finally getting out of Konoha. Together. All of us." Her voice dips, her usual confidence laced with something more sincere. "I would've figured if there'd be anyone excited about this it'd be you."
He inhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. "Not saying I ain't… yeah, I'm excited. Definitely, sure. Saigon. Vietnam. The World..." He glances around at his friends—who was laughing about something dumb, who joked and showboated about finishing their PT in record time. All as a short distance away, a ROOT commissar with two Sendai infantry looked on, her expression unreadable.
It unsettled Naruto seeing everyone else not pay any mind to their presence. Like it was as ordinary as saying the national anthem, or singing the praises of the Noble One.
Anger pools when he meets the commissar's gaze, doesn't flinch either when she returns it in kind.
Was this bitch one of those who'd ransacked my room? He thinks, nails biting his palm.
Or any of the the others he'd passed this morning heading to the hospital; his obligatory interrogation/pow-wow with Samui was still lamentably a part of his routine, and Tsubaki reiterated he needed to keep playing along. "If they're gunning for you, Naruto, we need to be as careful as ever. Don't give them more of a reason."
That he could understand; far be it from him to bring more attention to himself - which if they knew anything about him, was a dead giveaway in of itself. But what truly unsettled, what made his skin tingle with unease, were Mikoshi and Matsuri...
"Where are they?" Naruto pressed Tsubaki; they weren't in their rooms, and as far as he knew, made no inclination why were set to be discharged last he visited them. "This isn't right, Tsubaki. What happened to them; you need to know."
"I don't need to know anything concerning them, Naruto. I wasn't their attending. So, focus."
But that answer didn't suffice, and after pestering her enough, found in the hospital logs for some reason yesterday both were moved as "priorities" to the urgent care wing of Tree Leaf.
But how...?
Matsuri and Mikoshi were fine. He'd seen them. Talked to them. Matsuri had even joked yesterday about craving real food again, swearing she'd sell her soul for just one bite of grilled yakitori. Now, suddenly, urgent care?
Tsubaki had told him she'll check on them soon as she could, but for now Naruto's priority was to act accordingly. So, Naruto did: he reported for the usual training seminar headed by Iruka, he did his five hundred pushups, sit-ups, completed his 5k jog, and clenched his jaw as he held the commissar's gaze. Where he was searching for something—anything—in that blank, practiced stare.
He found nothing, though.
Just the cold efficiency he'd come to expect from ROOT's enforcers.
His fingers twitched at his sides; he wanted to ask. Demand. Where are they? What did you do? But he already knew what kind of answer he'd get.
None.
Or worse—some vague, bureaucratic deflection wrapped in the language of necessity. "For the good of the mission," or "You needn't concern yourself, comrade."
Naruto exhaled sharply through his nose, tearing his gaze away from the commissar before he did something stupid. His gut screamed something wasn't right. But what could he do now? If ROOT wanted to make people disappear, they would. If they wanted to lie, they will. And if they wanted him and his friends for their own purposes, to turn them into tools like that of Aburame Shino...
Suddenly, a familiar voice reaches out to. It sounds so relaxed, so sure; same as he remembered from the latest nightly visitation haunting his sleep.
"Oi," Sasuke nudges him with a sharp elbow. "You're spacing out again?"
"Sasuke-kun!" Sakura says excitedly.
Naruto turns to his friend. Unlike the rest of them, Sasuke wasnt in the regulation PT uniform which cobsisted of a plain white, long sleeved shirt, and a pair of baggy black shorts. Of course, he was too cool for that. The boy in question crosses his arm, and gives Naruto a long, unreadable look. "Why do you look like the cat planning to stick its paw in the fishbowl. With that expression on your face, your bound to burn a hole right through your skull."
"You should know by now thinking isn't my strong suit." Naruto jokes, though Sasuke isn't amused.
"Yeah, it's not." Sasuke says, harsher than Naruto was prepared for.
"Yeah? And brooding is definitely yours." Naruto fires back.
For an awkward moment the two riends stare at one another in the training ground. Surroubded by rheir peers, it takes Naruto hack to when they'd first started the Academy. Naruto was fresh from the orphanage dormitories and Sasuke...Well, Sasuke wasn't with the other orphans. Oddly, the little Uchiha was kept mostly to himself in the compound of his family.
Privilege of having a name Naruto supposed awarded Sasuke more independence than the rest. Which did wonders for his social skills. Good thing Naruto was there to straighten him out by picking a fight with him first day of school; Naruto lost, but Sasuke still smarted a black eye for his troubles.
Naruto would like to think that's when their friendship truly started. Though, jusging by how Sasuke looked at him today, you'd never think they were anything but mortal enemies.
"Sleep well last night?" Sasuke asks pointedly.
"Better than I'm used to, worse than I prefer." Naruto says protectively. Cautiously. Unsure how to defend against Sasuke. Whether it be an innocent ask, or another barb sent out like all the rest of their interactions lately.
Sasuke's gaze lingered on him, unreadable, sharp as ever. He didn't press, but he didn't let up either.
"Hn." A simple sound, but one that carried weight. Doubt? Disapproval? Something else? Naruto couldn't tell.
His skin prickled as he turned his attention elsewhere, anywhere but the memory clawing at the edges of his mind. The dream—if it was a dream—felt too real. The heat of the lightning, the burn in his chest, the way Sasuke's eyes watched him, emotionless and absolute.
It unsettled him.
"Oi." Sasuke's voice cut through his thoughts again, grounding him. "We're not done here."
Naruto sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "What do you want me to say, man? I slept, I woke up, now I'm here."
Sasuke didn't look convinced.
Hmph, of course; Sasuke knew him too well, and Naruto was being too obvious. It was the one thing Tsubaki warned him about as he fumed while leaving Tree Leaf Hospital. "Tch. You're not exactly subtle." Sasuke says, hand for some reaosn restinf on his hilt of his sword. "If you've got something on your mind, Naruto, just spit it out already. We're here to help."
Help...
Sure, Naruto would love some of that right now.
From his friends especially.
But would they believe him?
Could they believe half of anything Naruto knew on behalf of the Bridge Builder's information? Or more uncertain, could they trust him?
Naruto wanted them to. For the words sat heavy on his tongue, but what could he say? That he thought he'd been stabbed in his sleep? That he wasn't sure what was real anymore? That something inside him, something deep and old, was clawing its way out, and he had no idea how to stop it?
Yeah. Right.
But just as it looked like Sasuke would push further, Sakura's eyes narrowed, and her fist clenched—a telltale sign Naruto had learned to recognize very well. Instinctively, he braced himself, shoulders tensing, expecting the familiar smack to the head. She hated when they fought, and with tensions in Konoha at an all-time high, the last thing she wanted was for them to be at each other's throats.
Yet, a moment passed. The hit never came.
"Will you knock it off?" she snapped, before landing a solid punch to Sasuke's shoulder instead. Naruto got one, too—less forceful, but still enough to make him flinch. He did notice, though, that Sasuke got it worse.
"Honestly, can you two not? For once? Please?" Her voice softened, just barely. "Don't you idiots get it?"
She reached out, grabbing Naruto's hand, then Sasuke's. Her fingers were small, calloused, but warm.
Naruto blinked.
Sakura had always been the smallest of them, maybe a head shorter now that they were older, but that never stopped her from holding them together. He remembered all the crap their classmates used to say about her—the whispers, the snide remarks, the eye-rolls behind her back. The ones that stopped when Sakura made them stop. The girls in their class never understood her, and the boys never respected her, but Naruto knew better.
Sakura Haruno was the reason Team 7 hadn't completely fallen apart when it should have. The glue that kept Naruto's recklessness in check and Sasuke's sharp edges from cutting too deep. Even Kakashi-sensei had softened—just a little—because of her.
She was tough, sharp, and genuine. She worked herself to the bone to support her father. She pushed herself harder than anyone to prove she was more than just a tagalong kunoichi, more than just another foot soldier in Konoha's People's Republic.
And for that, she didn't deserve to be used.
Not by ROOT. Not by the state. Not even by Sasuke—the bastard who, if he ever realized how she looked at him, would probably just pretend he hadn't noticed.
Because Naruto had noticed.
Sakura didn't look at Sasuke the way other girls did. She didn't bat her lashes or sigh dreamily. She looked at him like he was a promise—something to chase, something to prove herself against. A man she could one day stand beside and say, I'm good enough to be here.
And maybe, somewhere deep inside himself—somewhere childish, somewhere selfish—Naruto wished she'd look at him like that, too.
Sakura squeezed their hands and pulled them in, just a little closer.
"Us three jerks have been together for as long as I can remember," she said, her voice softer now. "When I think about my childhood, I can't picture it without you two in it. You've always been there, annoying the hell out of me, making everything ten times more complicated than it needs to be." She let out a small, breathy laugh. "And, honestly? It's really annoying."
She looked up then, meeting their eyes in turn.
"But I'm glad."
Sakura let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, her fingers tightening just slightly around theirs.
"I had spent so much of my life proving myself—to the teachers, our peers, the Village. I thought if I wasn't the kind of 'kunoichi' deemed necessary, then I'd be some big failure. There were moments I really doubted if I could ever stand tall enough, strong enough, worthy enough between you two."
"You, Naruto, stubborn to a fault, loud and brash and unshakably himself. Even in a world that's tried again and again to make you anything but. And you, Sasuke-kun, who bore your scars like armor; cold on the outside, but with a fire within that shines out like a beacon for everyone to follow, no matter how much you pretend to not care. Both of you have been through the best of times and the worst. Saw me at my weakest, and yet—somehow, impossibly—you never let me fall."
Maybe, if not for them, she would have been swallowed up by the expectations placed on her. Maybe she would have shrunk herself down, fit herself into the mold she was meant to fill. But this—what they had, what they built together—made her more.
If there was anything in this world that told her she was worthy, it was knowing that these two knuckleheads would always have her back. And that, no matter what, she would always have theirs.
She smiled, shaking her head with a laugh. "Okay, ugh—that was way too dramatic," she groaned, rubbing the back of her neck. "I didn't mean for the to be so cheesy, I swear. But still," she said, looking between them, letting the warmth settle in her chest, "knowing we'll be together, no matter what happens… makes me feel like everything's gonna be okay."
Sasuke huffed, but Naruto was blushing the entire time
He swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in his throat as his gaze locked onto Sakura's. Her eyes—warm, steady, believing—held his, unwavering in a way that made something settle deep in his chest. For the first time in a long time, Naruto didn't feel like a disposable pawn on someone else's board. He wasn't just a tool, a weapon to be pointed at a problem and thrown away when the job was done. He wasn't going to disappear like so many others before him, lost to the endless churn of war and duty.
No.
He was going to make it through this.
Through the goddamn Library, through whatever nightmarish hell Tobirama had hidden away inside, through whatever mess the Bridge Builder needed sorted. He was going to come back.
Because if he didn't—
If he didn't, he wouldn't get to see this exact moment again. This confident, self-assured smile. The way her fingers wrapped around his, warm and certain. The way, just for a second, he could pretend things weren't so goddamn complicated.
Sakura turned to him, and smiled.
And damn it, Naruto felt his face heat up, felt that traitorous little hitch in his chest. If she noticed the way his fingers tensed around hers, she didn't say a word. If she saw how his eyes lingered, just a second longer than usual, she didn't scowl or roll her eyes or threaten to deck him into the dirt like she normally would.
This time…
This time…
"Oi, you three!"
Of all people, it was Shikamaru who decided to butt in.
Naruto jolted, yanking his hand back so fast it nearly snapped his wrist. "Wha—?! The hell, man!"
Shikamaru was giving them that look—bored, unimpressed, just barely holding back a smirk. "Hate to break up whatever combaya moment this is," he drawled, "but everyone's getting antsy about eats. Still interested in the yakiniku? My treat. Which unfortunate because Choji's already haflway out of his PT gear as we speak."
"Yes, definitely! We'll be right there." Sakura says excitedly.
BBQ?
Yes, definitely! We'll be right there," Sakura said immediately, her voice laced with relief.
Naruto blinked at her, but Sakura only smiled, nudging his shoulder as if that alone could shake off the thick, heavy tension still clinging to the air. "This is to make up for our shit lunch the other day," she said pointedly, eyes flicking between him and Sasuke. "Which, if you don't remember, turned into yet another awkward, angsty tiff." She sighed. "Seriously, it's getting way too typical for my liking. Hopefully, being with the others will cool down… whatever it is between you two."
Naruto scoffed, but Sakura only gave him a knowing look before adding, softer now, "And you look like you need it."
Naruto swallowed, glancing away.
Sakura was too good for him. Too good for Sasuke. Too good for this whole damn Village, for that matter. As if to remind him of exactly that, the ever-watchful ROOT commissar still hadn't taken her eyes off them. He could feel her gaze boring into the back of his skull, unwavering, unrelenting. Sakura either didn't notice or—more likely—chose to ignore it, keeping her grip firm on his wrist as she tugged him and Sasuke toward the others.
Team 10 and Team 8 were already gathered, chatting easily amongst themselves. Yome, Shira, and Sen lingered nearby, their postures still stiff from training but their expressions relaxed.
Naruto did his best to ignore the ROOT presence at his back. Last thing he needed was another interrogation. Another "pow-wow" with Samui. Another set of carefully worded questions with an agenda buried beneath them.
So he forced himself to focus on anything else.
Iruka, still in his slick uniform, guiding wayward students into attention.
The haphazard shuriken dummies embedded with an absurd number of pointy objects.
Bekko, standing off to the side, watching over one half of the class with his usual grumpy scowl. Naruto knew he stayed behind for them—to keep Sendai eyes on him instead. A buffer. A distraction. But it was clear that ROOT's interest in the chōjin wouldn't be shaken off so easily.
Not by a stubborn, loudmouth curmudgeon with a chip on his shoulder.
And certainly not by Naruto.
Yakiniku Q was one of those places that had seen better days but still managed to hold onto its reputation. The dim lighting cast a warm glow over the wooden booths, the hum of conversation and clinking of plates filling the air. The smell of sizzling meat drifted through the room, thick with smoke and seasoning, making Naruto's mouth water despite himself. He wasn't exactly sure what kind of meat they were grilling, nor where it came from, but at this point, it was better not to ask. Questionable quality or not, no one seemed inclined to complain.
The atmosphere was lighter than it had been in weeks. Maybe months. A break from the ever-present tension, the watchful eyes of ROOT, the feeling that any moment, something would go wrong. This was… nice. Almost normal.
Chōji, in particular, looked more relaxed than Naruto had seen him in a while. He smiled, he joked, he ate—doing his best, Naruto figured, to act like himself. Like things hadn't changed. Like they hadn't lost so much. But it was hard to ignore the way his laughter sometimes faded too quickly, or how his shoulders still seemed weighed down by something heavier than exhaustion. Since the Watchtower incident, since losing his father, Chōji had been keeping up appearances as best he could. Naruto didn't blame him.
Good thing this place is still around," Chōji said, flipping a piece of pork belly over on the grill. "Yakiniku Q's probably one of the best spots left in Konoha." He smiled faintly. "It's been our place for a while now, huh? Back when Asuma-sensei used to bring us here after missions. Like that one time Ino had to play Madame Fuku."
"Ugh, don't remind me of that," Ino groaned, rubbing her temples. "That woman was awful."
Naruto snorted. "What, the Resource Secretary? Thought you did a pretty good job playing her."
Ino shot him a glare. "Try stuffing yourself into a kimono that's three sizes too small and seducing some crusty West German diplomat with really bad breath." She made a disgusted face. "I don't even remember his real name. Rudolph? Karl? Something stupid. His call sign was Chikara, I think." She exhaled sharply. "He was just as fat as she was."
Naruto plucked a piece of beef off the grill with his chopsticks. "Yeah, I was on that mission with you. Dude was actually pretty cool. Loved Elvis." He chewed thoughtfully. "Whatever happened to him, anyway?"
"I scrambled his mind and wiped all the BND intel out of his head." Ino didn't even blink. "Kept the Stasi happy for five years. Maybe six. Last I heard, he's in a mental asylum in Cologne."
Naruto stopped mid-chew.
"Well… that's… very thorough of you." He took a slow sip of his drink, deciding that, really, he didn't want to know any more details.
"Easy enough to get him in the bed, than it was off of me. Ugh, can still smell his cheap cologne."
Sakura sighed. "Ugh, you're ridiculous. I'm eating."
"So was he."
"By the Noble One, Ino! Seriously?!"
The meal carried on, the warmth of the grill and the hum of conversation weaving a fragile sense of normalcy over the table. Plates stacked up, the scent of caramelized fat and soy seeping into their clothes. Naruto sat back slightly, chopsticks still idly poking at the last bit of pork belly left on his plate, letting the others fill the space around him.
Ino, for all her sharpness, actually looked better tonight. A little less like she was holding everything in just to keep from shattering. Word had come earlier that her father's condition wasn't as dire as they feared—his arm and leg could be saved, the skin grafting wouldn't be as extreme as expected. It wasn't good news, but it was better news. Enough to give her something to hold onto.
Naruto could see flashes of her old self in the way she spoke, the way she carried herself. Her usual confidence, the edge of superiority that always made her such a pain in the ass, had begun creeping back in. But there was something different now—something sharper. Every glance from her was a wayward cut, every playful remark had a bite to it, her teasing only a breath above real anger. It was like she was testing everyone, daring them to push back.
"Alright, you need to slow down," Sakura huffed, watching Ino reach for another round of meat. "How are you even still eating?"
"Protein," Ino says matter of factly, before theowing another slab into her mouth. "Dad's going to be out commision for awhile, so I'm the one who's going to be heading the Yamanaka for a bit. I can't be weak - won't be. It's not gonna be like the Forest again. I don't want anyone to save me. No offense, Sasuke-kun."
"None taken." Sasuke goes; never one to give Ino much attention before, he at least gives her a satisfied nod hearing her take more onus on her training.
Being primed as intelligence officer, Ino never really needed to devite herself to taijutsu or hard training before. "But my ROOT attaché has put me on a training regimen," Ino goes, chewing on a thick piece of before. "Shira's helping."
"I'm just giving Ino a few pointers." Shira adds past his bowl of rice.
"If we can all follow Shira's lead, we'd all be the better for it. Not for him, Yome, and Sen, think I woulda been a goner." Shikamaru adds.
"You're not giving yourself enough credit Shikamaru - it was your plan that got us out of there." Sen goes.
"And managed to get Choji to safety." Yome says, putting her hand on Choji's shoulder.
Choji gave her a small, appreciative nod, but his usual easy-going smile was noticeably absent. He poked at his food, eyes briefly flickering up to Shikamaru before dropping back down. "I don't really remember much after it happened," he admitted. "Just… pain. And then nothing."
The table quieted slightly. They didn't talk about the Forest of Death much—none of them did. The experience had settled into each of them like a scar that wouldn't quite heal right. They all bore their own weight from it, and no one was eager to relive the details.
Sakura shifted uncomfortably, her chopsticks lingering over a piece of grilled pork. "We barely made it out ourselves," she said, voice quieter. "If not for Naruto and Sasuke… I don't know what would've happened."
Naruto scratched the back of his head, glancing at Sasuke, who, for once, didn't look like he was about to make some smug remark. "Only half of me - the other half? Well, if you hadn't pumped a but of your chakra into me... ," he mutters, hand going up to the small mark at his jugular where Sakura's incision began to scab over. "Well, I don't know. Glad at least some of us pulled through."
Ino let out a short, humorless laugh. "Some. Sure." She set her chopsticks down with a little too much force, her fingers tightening into a fist before she exhaled slowly and unclenched them. "I—I froze back there. When it really mattered. It's not gonna happen again."
"You didn't freeze," Shira corrected, his voice steady. "You hesitated. And hesitation is human. But you kept moving. That's what mattered."
Ino met his gaze for a moment before looking away, lips pressing into a thin line.
Yome gave her a small, encouraging smile before looking around the table. "We all lost a little back there," she said. "Some more than others. But… we made it. And we're here. That counts for something, right?"
Shikamaru sighed, rubbing his temples. "It should," he muttered. "Doesn't make it any easier to think about."
"It's not supposed to be easy," Sasuke said, speaking for the first time in a while. He wasn't looking at anyone, just staring at his half-empty plate. "If it was, we wouldn't be who we are."
The words sat heavy between them. No one really had a response. Because, as much as they hated to admit it, Sasuke was right. Who they were, what they did; being a shinob had shaped them. Warped them. Normal? Far as they were concerned, this was normal. People like Aburame Shino, Akeginu, Chokima Koshiro - these characters couldn't let them go back to how things were before. They weren't kids playing at being ninj. They were in it now. Whether they wanted to be or not.
Naruto looked around at his friends, seeing a hollow weight in their eyes, and a quiet tension in their bodies. They all looked like Mizuki in a way: tired, spent and stretched. He wanted to say something, anything to lighten the mood, but the words didn't come.
Instead, he reached for another piece of meat, chewing slowly.
The others followed suit, conversation shifting back to smaller, easier things.
The past was still there, lurking at the edges, yet at least tonight they could let themselves breathe.
For now.
Naruto clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to tell his friends exactly what they were.
Team 0.
Chōjin.
Chosen. But for what?
His fingers curled tightly around his chopsticks, nearly snapping them in half. He didn't know. None of them did. They sat here, laughing, eating, pretending like they weren't the result of some mad science project wrapped in a shinobi's headband and sent off to fight wars they didn't understand.
He glanced at Choji, at Ino, at Shikamaru. Shira, Yome, and Sen. Even at Sasuke and Sakura. Each of them labeled and packaged just like the meat sizzling on the grill—stamped, sorted, and marked for consumption.
Was the meat even fresh? Probably not. It was more than likely pulled from some old war storage facility, repurposed, and sold back to them as something palatable.
Just like them.
Naruto grit his teeth and forced himself to take another bite, chewing past the bile rising in his throat.
Bridge Builder seemed like he knew something, at least. Or he had a guess. ROOT definitely had an idea—more or less—of what they were meant for once they got their hands on them fully.
And Asuma…
Naruto exhaled slowly, letting his gaze drift around the room.
Someone had slipped that message from the Hokage under his door. And not just anyone. It had to be someone skilled enough to get past the dormitory guards, to move unnoticed. Yome was fast enough. Sen could talk her way out of anything. Shira wasn't great at ninjutsu, but Naruto wouldn't put it past him to sneak by undetected.
Any one of them could've done it.
But why? And why now?
His grip loosened around his chopsticks. He could feel Sakura's eyes on him again, her warmth, her trust. She'd just spoken about how their team made her who she was. How she believed in them, in him.
He wanted to believe, too. But for his own reasons entirely. Sen goes on to say how it feels weird despite everything they were shipping out tomorrow and leaving everyone behind. "Makes me feel almost guilty in a way. I'd rather stay and protect Konoha, than get shipped four thousand kilometers away."
"We have no choice - they're orders." Shira says.
Sasuke huffs into his cup. "To work with the Imperialists?"
"To end the blockade and start getting decent food in here." Shikamaru fires back.
One Sakura deflects, adding the deal itself is understandable. But doing so only showed how weak they were. "That doesn't do anything for us in the long run, though. Juritsu comes from our own strength. Once we start asking for 'permission' to survive, are we really holding true to the Noble One's teachings?"
"It's not weakness to admit we need help. Humility can also be a strength, too, ya know. Besides, does juritsu mean relying on Russian or Chinese support to get by?"
"Your father's been leading talks between Moscow and Beijing to smooth things over with them for how long? We have friends; why do we need to look for ones amingst our enemies."
"Being ANBU I'd imagine you're privy to a lot of information as to what my father does. But don't assume you understand the bigger picture, just because, Sasuke." Shikamaru pulls out a cigarette from his vest pocket - a nasty habit he'd picked up from his teacher. "Soviets, Americans, or the Communist Party of China ain't our friends. But difference is between 'em only one is honest about that."
"Shikamaru, be careful - anyone here can listen to us." Yome says, nervously looking about at any passerby near their table.
Naruto shifted uncomfortably. Yome wasn't wrong. ROOT had eyes and ears everywhere, and even now, the commissar hadn't taken her gaze off him. Conversations like this—ones that questioned policy, that hinted at dissent—could get someone disappeared.
And yet, wasn't that the whole problem? That they couldn't even talk freely in their own village?
Choji, still chewing, broke the heavy silence with a casual remark. "There's this old proverb—something about a ladybug." He swallowed, poking at the last bits of grilled meat on his plate. "Asuma used to say it after a rough day. Something like… ladybugs are supposed to catch all the bad luck, and fly away with it at the end of every day...Wouldn't mind having one right about now."
His voice was light, offhanded, like he wasn't even thinking about it. And for the most part, no one really reacted. A few nods, a grunt from Shikamaru, but nothing more. The conversation seemed to roll past like a breeze, just another string of words tossed onto the table and forgotten in the next moment.
All except for Naruto.
His gaze flickered around the table, searching for any sign, any change, any flicker of understanding. But if anyone else had caught onto the weight of Choji's words, they masked it well. Either they had no reaction, or they had already long decided not to let it show.
Naruto clenched his fist under the table, willing himself not to stare. Instead, he looked at Choji—really looked at him. Was that just a throwaway line? Or was there something else beneath it?
He wanted to ask. Wanted to dig deeper.
But not here. Not now. And definitely not with Sasuke sitting so close.
So he let it slide.
The rest of dinner passed with easy, forgettable chatter—a few forced laughs, a joke from Shikamaru that made Ino roll her eyes, a lighthearted toast to "Team 0" and their upcoming deployment.
"Whatever happens," Shira said, raising his glass, "we'll have a better showing in Saigon than in Aokigahara."
"Hear, hear," Yome added, knocking her cup against his.
Naruto lifted his drink but didn't sip. He just watched the others. The way they smiled, the way they carried themselves. Some were relaxed. Others—like Choji, like himself—were holding something back.
Ladybugs, huh?
Naruto wasn't sure he believed in luck.
But he had a feeling they'd need all they could get.
Naruto looked around - everyone was tense, bracing for whatever was coming their way. That was always the hard part of this life; you could never know what sort of risk was about the corner. Relentless teaching of their jonin proctors at the Ninja Academy could only do so much. They'd braved the Forest of Death on many an occasion, but even there was a doctored type of environment. The closest they'd all been to danger was ROOT's training exercise, and look how poorly they fared there
But now the question everyone feared was the inevitable unknown.
As they were all leaving Yakiniku Q, the scent of charred meat clinging to their clothes, the streetlights flickering in the quiet hum of Konoha's night, everyone peeled off to offer casual waves and murmured goodbyes. Spirits were light despite everything. Even as the mission loomed, at least they had each other. At least they weren't alone.
Except for Naruto.
His prerogative now was all put on him, and its weight pressed like an iron grip on his chest. The nightmares which had been creeping up were relentless and suffocating. Only for him to awake and find the Village shrinking before him, becoming nothing but a blip, a memory, a ghost...
Or maybe not even that.
Maybe just another casualty in the grand scheme of The Cause. The Revolution. This insipid, bloodthirsty, never-satisfied machine that demanded everything from those who fed it but gave nothing in return.
Naruto had given.
And given.
And given.
But what had he gotten?
A promise of juritsu—self-determination—which felt more like some cruel joke. There was no choice within the Sapporo sphere. Only the uneasy knowledge ROOT wouldn't stop, The State would never let them go; they were "assets" to be hoarded and used and sacrificed. And he knew even if he succeeded stealing the Scroll of Seals with Mizuki and the ragtag band he'd scrounged together… what then?
This cycle of hatred would only continue until somebody put a stop to it, and looking back at Sasuke and Sakura only home they'd never be free unless something drastic needed to be done. Naruto wasn't afraid of failure for his sake, but for what it would mean for Team 7, 8, 10, 15, however many other ninja squads pulled into this maelstrom. Mizuki and The Bridge Builder seemed to have a singular idea of what's best - the ramifications for the Village were minor. But he wasn't gonna let his friends become collateral for a move to "checkmate".
Naruto felt sick.
And for the first time in what felt like forever—he didn't know where to turn. Until his feet dragged to a halt, and just ahead Sakura and Sasuke walking side by side, speaking in hushed tones.
It was now or never - To hell with Mizuki.
He should've told these two the moment he knew anything. Should've trusted them first— his friends. Not Mizuki or anyone else.
His throat was dry.
His stomach twisted.
But he made up his mind.
"Hey, you two…."
His voice caught, the words stumbling out of him as they turned to face him.
Sakura tilted her head, curious. Sasuke just stared.
Naruto swallowed hard.
"…Can we talk?"
Naruto stared, his pulse thudding loud in his ears. They'd always been with him—Sakura, with her earnest heart and steady hands; Sasuke, the cold steel of his presence sharpened to an edge. They were the closest thing to family he had.
But still... a voice inside whispers, Be careful.
It wasn't his own.
Sounded like the Bridge Builder's, and Mizuki's. Like the amber-eyed phantom who stalked his dreams, voice dripping with something ancient and knowing. Or maybe it was the voices of the others—the faceless, half-remembered figures whose memories seeped into his mind unbidden. Whispers from the past, echoes of the future.
One knows too much.
The other knows too little.
Neither can be trusted...
They say to him.
His breath hitches when he realizes he's going crazy just like Lord Second, but he swallows the fear before it could escape. But Sakura - ever perceptive - watches him, and concern knits her brows. She goes to him, and then—gently, carefully—reaches for him.
"Naruto?" Her voice broke through the noise in his head.
He should've let her touch anchor him, like it always did. But instead he flinches and pulls away.
Sakura freezes. So did he. And he asks himself why he did that? She'd touched him a hundred times before—clutching his arm after missions, knocking her knuckles against his skull when he was being dumb, gripping his hand tight when words didn't cut it. He had never once shirked her touch before.
But now something ugly twisted his insides, something he didn't want to name.
He forced himself to breathe, forced the words out before he could second-guess himself. "I have to tell you two something. Something big. And… and I've—ugh! Fuck!—I've no good idea of even knowing how to start, or where to end." His voice cracked, frustration biting at the edges. "This… you guys, I need to know I can trust you. Not to write me off, okay?"
Sasuke's eyes widen. "What is it, Naruto?" Sasuke's expression was unreadable, but his grip on his sword was loose, relaxed—the way it always was when he wasn't expecting a fight, but was ready for one all the same.
But before he could answer—
"If it makes you feel any better," Sakura cuts in, and forcefully takes Naruto's hand once more into his; by the Noble One, did she not know what her touch did to him, what he feels whenever she looked at him like this. Concern and worry etched into her face like some pained French painting. It also made Naruto break before she tells him softly it's fine.
"I think we'd all benefit from a talk. But not here. At my house. We'll meet there at midnight." Her eyes expectedly lock onto Naruto's. "I know you're good enough to sneak out of the dorms. Tell us there. And, we have something to tell you as well?"
Naruto swallows hard, and nods his head.
Later that night the weight in his gut didn't ease. If anything, it grew. Especially as he dons his customary field grade kit once more, and lets the black cloth breath in the cool night air. Sneaking past the Sendai guards, and the Comrade Proctor on-duty that night at the desk. But soon as Naruto makes the perimeter, suddenly a split feeling tells him he's found out. He turns, kunai unsheathed.
But who he finds there is none other than the hunched figure of Kosuke in his bearskin coat.
"What then hell are you doing here?" Naruto says in a hushed whisper. He puts away the kunai and looks at the old man. "Noble One's balls, I could've gutted you."
Kosuke didn't move.
Naruto could feel the old man's eyes on him, sharp despite the way his frail frame hunched under the weight of age. The moonlight barely reached them in the narrow alleyway between the dormitories and the training grounds, casting Kosuke in shadows that seemed to deepen the lines of his weathered face.
"You're going out," Kosuke murmured, more statement than question. "At this hour?"
Naruto exhaled sharply through his nose. "I got somewhere I need to be."
Kosuke tilted his head, appraising him. "Not part of the plan. Not smart. Don't be putting yourself at risk by telling others what's going on.."
Naruto's grip on his kunai tightened before he forced himself to slide it back into its sheath. "When Yome said she felt someone at rhe restaurant listening, it was you wasnt it? Even outside when we all left?"
Kosuke hummed. "Being old affords me the benefit of not being noticed by the young. Being a genin, more so. But don't assume because of those things I don't possess any skill of my own."
"Color me informed then."
Something about the old man's quiet scrutiny put Naruto on edge. Kosuke had always been one of those old relics hanging around the village, always cleaning gear, always busying himself in the background, rarely noticed unless he spoke up. And yet, even now, he'd managed to sneak up on him.
Maybe that said more about Naruto than it did about Kosuke.
He sighed. "Look, I don't have time for a heart-to-heart right now."
"This is not that - I'm warning you, Naruto. Tsubaki told me about your friends at the hospital, and what happened to your dorm. She feels something's off. Mizuki, too. They sent me to keep an eye on you just in case." His voice softened just slightly. "Naruto, ROOT came to your room last night gunning for you. Add that to your daily meetings with the commissar, the dreams you've been having, those voices... You don't think ROOT's looking for a way 'in'?"
"An 'in' to what?" Naruto stiffens; how the shit would Kosuke know about his dreams? And voices? And everything else? He could feel his sixth sense going off again, telling him to beware. But of Kosuke, or whatever else lurking in the dark? "At first I'd no idea why the fuck Mizuki would want an old grandpa like you helping us out. But the fact you know more than I think you should, makes a little more sense now. So, tell me, Kosuke: should I know more? About you? This? Everything? How the fuck do you know about my dreams, and the voices?"
"Because you're mother suffered through them all the way until they killed her." Kosuke regarded him for a long moment, then nods. "I'm not your keeper, Naruto. But if anything, at least allow me to watch your back as I did for Kira. Or Kushina. Or whatever you want to call her."
"I don't really call her anything." Naruto goes.
Kosuke shrugs. "Fair enough, but if you want to know more, I'll tell you. Only! If you let me see you there and back again. I'd rest easier knowing you'll be safe, than sitting back and relying on luck. Konoha's running out of it, as of late."
Naruto clicks his tongue in frustration, knowing Kosuke wasn't get shaken off his tail, and he didn't have the time to argue with an octogenarian when it was sub 5 degrees; Kosuke was right about one thing, it was stupid cold tonight as the vapor comes out when exhaling through his nose. " Fine," he mutters. "Just try not to keel over on me."
Kosuke huffed a quiet laugh. "I'll manage."
Naruto and Kosuke moved like wraiths over the rooftops, slipping through the night with practiced ease. The moon was a sliver above them, its faint light casting long, jagged shadows against the slanted tiles and wooden beams of Konoha's skyline.
The cold gnawed at their skin, but neither acknowledged it. Their breath came out in controlled exhales, barely visible wisps in the frigid air.
Below, the Sendai Infantry trudged through the streets in heavy winter gear, their rifles slung over their shoulders, boots crunching over frostbitten earth. They weren't alert—not really. The cold dulled their senses, their patrols sluggish, their movements mechanical. Good. That made slipping past them easier.
Naruto landed lightly on the edge of a merchant's overhang, Kosuke just behind him. They paused as two guards lingered at a street corner, muttering something about ration distributions. Naruto flexed his fingers, waiting.
Kosuke tapped his arm once—wait for it—then, when the guards turned their backs, they ghosted forward.
Step, pivot, push—Naruto scaled a wooden support beam, flipped onto the next roof, Kosuke right behind him. Their movements were fluid, instinctual, as if they'd done this together a hundred times before.
Then, there it was—Sakura's house. Modest, tucked between taller buildings, its second floor dimly lit by a single lamp. Inside he made out the movement of two shadows against the light. But before ue cpuld move forward, Kosuke's hand reaches out to stop him.
"The hell is your problem?"
"Wait," the older man goes, and nods. His voice barely a whisper, but it carried weight, a lifetime's worth of knowing when the air shifted and danger slithered into its place. "Someone's here," Kosuke tells him.
Naruto forced himself to stay still, breathe past the knot in his throat, and sense the presence of other chakras. He reaches out, stretching himself as far as he could without making his own presence known. That's when he feels it.
A perimeter about the house.
The Haruno household was being watched. Stalked, even.
At first the figures didn't move. They sat silent in the black of the alleyways, quiet as death as each blended perfectly into their surroundings. Naruto would never have guessed if it wasn't for the faint pulse of their their signatures. But even then, their beats were faint. Close to almost nothing. Felt as if they weren't even alive.
Swallowing hard, Naruto's heart is hammering. How can this be - how could they've known? Could this be one crazy, fucked up coincidence? Or were they get tipped off?
Naruto didn't want to believe it, didnt even want to think on it.
Shaking hands pull out the Shinigami Map he'd stashed away, and opens it up. His eyes darted across the names—Sasuke. Sakura.
And then…
His heart skipped.
Her.
Naruto gritted his teeth, pulse pounding. The air felt heavier, but the scent of incense and grave-dirt becoming more distinct. A presence lurked—watching, waiting. Beside him, Kosuke murmurs, "Something's here." Naruto takes in a breath, and shoves the map away before he rips it to shreds. "We need to leave," Kosuke says.
The man's voice is calm. A measured, practiced steadiness which masked whatever unease he was feeling. But Naruto heard beneath that even tone, there was a flatness, a tightness in his words which told the geezer was as unsettled.
His body wanted to move, to push forward, to ignore every warning his instincts were screaming at him. Sakura and Sasuke are right there - weight of everything he'd planned to tell them sat so heavy on his chest. He wanted to to tell them, had to tell them; but how much would that only paint a bigger target on their backs.
Now with something - or someone - else here. Something that neither he nor Kosuke had anticipated.
His hands curled into fists before slowly unclenching. "Fine," he muttered.
Kosuke nodded, already turning back the way they came, keeping a careful eye on the shifting shadows below. Naruto followed, his body moving on autopilot as they slipped back across the rooftops, away from Sakura's house, away from the thing that waited in the dark.
He didn't speak on the way back. Neither did Kosuke.
That night, back in the cold, cramped space of his room, Naruto lays awake. Staring at the ceiling. Listening to the wind rattle against the windows. Though he should've been exhausted, should've been able to close his eyes and drift off without issue, he can't.
And he doesn't.
Naruto doesn't sleep a wink at all, as he was too busy conversing with his conscience all the way till the dawn sun creeps into the haven of Konoha's cavern. Pondering over his mother's belongings, thrumming the metal box with fidgeting fingers till roll call was announced, and a new day begins. Tomorrow became today, and though he walked through the routine of his motions, a gaggle of rowdy genin all together clamoring about him, Naruto feels alone...
But not really.
Like a shadow ever watching his footsteps, or noticing his reflection in a mirror, a "thing" is easing his nerves, telling him it'll be all right, he saved himself another night from being hounded by prying eyes.
"For you need to be unclouded ahead. Undisturbed. Don't worry, I will watch over you. I'm here with you. Trust me, and together, everything will be alright...
Trust me...
Поверьте мне...
私を信じて...