3RD POV
Haru stood silently by the hospital bed, his pupiless eyes fixed on Ryuichi's pale, bandaged form. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor filled the sterile room, a constant reminder that Ryuichi was alive—but barely. His left hand, heavily damaged and wrapped in thick bandages, rested limply at his side. The sight of it made Haru's chest tighten. He could still vividly recall the battle, every agonizing moment etched into his mind like a scar.
The mission had gone horribly wrong. Kushimaru Kuriarare, one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, had cornered them, his vicious needle-like blade weaving through their defenses like it was toying with them. The man's killing intent was suffocating, his strikes precise and unrelenting. Haru and Fuyumi had been pushed to their limits—and beyond.
They would have died. Haru had no doubt about it.
But Ryuichi had refused to back down. Even with his body trembling from exhaustion, his chakra reserves nearly depleted, he had stepped forward, a fierce determination blazing in his Sharingan. And in the end, Ryuichi had done the impossible. With a final, desperate attack, he had brought Kushimaru down. The image of Ryuichi delivering the killing blow—blood spraying through the air, his left hand mangled in the process—was seared into Haru's memory.
Kushina had arrived moments later, her face a mask of panic and fury. She didn't waste a second, sprinting to Ryuichi's side. Her red hair, usually vibrant and full of life, had seemed dulled with worry as she knelt beside him, frantically checking his vitals.
"Stay with me, Ryuichi! Don't you dare quit on me now!" she had yelled, her voice shaking with emotion.
Without hesitation, Kushina had lifted Ryuichi onto her back, her strength and speed suddenly dwarfing what Haru and Fuyumi thought possible. She bolted through the battlefield and the streets of Konoha, so fast that Haru and Fuyumi couldn't hope to keep up. The doors to the hospital had slammed open as she burst into Tsunade's office, demanding the legendary medic's help with an urgency that brooked no argument.
And now, here Haru was, standing over his unconscious teammate, replaying it all over and over in his head.
He clenched his fists at his sides. Guilt gnawed at him. It should have been me.
The silence of the room was broken by the soft rustle of Ryuichi's breathing, but it wasn't enough to comfort Haru. His teammate—his friend—was lying here because he had taken on more than his share, because Haru and Fuyumi hadn't been strong enough to hold their own against someone like Kushimaru.
Haru's voice came out in a whisper, raw and strained. "Ryuichi… why did you have to push yourself so far?"
He lowered his gaze, his fingers tightening around the edges of his sleeves. "You saved us. You saved me. But at what cost? What if you hadn't made it? What if—"
The lump in his throat grew unbearable, and Haru bit down on his lip to stifle the rising emotion. His Hokage dream, his goal to protect others… it all felt hollow in this moment. Ryuichi had done what Haru should have been able to do. Haru was supposed to lead, to protect his team, and yet he had been powerless.
"You're an idiot, you know," Haru muttered, his voice trembling.
As he stared down at Ryuichi, Haru felt a familiar presence behind him. He turned to see Kushina standing in the doorway, her arms crossed, her eyes shadowed with worry. She gave him a small, encouraging smile, though it was tinged with her own guilt.
"Sensei…" Haru said softly, unsure what to say.
Kushina walked over and stood beside him, her gaze falling to Ryuichi. She sighed deeply, her expression pained. "Ryuichi's tougher than he looks, Haru. He'll pull through. You've just got to have faith in him."
"I do," Haru said quickly. "I just… I wish I could've done more. If I'd been stronger—"
"Stop right there," Kushina interrupted firmly, her voice gentle but commanding. "I know what you're thinking, and I'm going to tell you this right now: don't go blaming yourself for what happened out there. This wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. You're a team. You succeeded together, and you survived together. That's what matters."
Haru looked back at Ryuichi, his emotions still roiling. "But he almost didn't. Sensei, he nearly died for us."
"And if the roles were reversed, wouldn't you do the same for him?" Kushina asked, her gaze piercing. "Wouldn't Fuyumi? That's what being a team is about, Haru. It's not just about strength or strategy—it's about trust, about knowing that someone's got your back no matter what."
Haru hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Yeah… I would."
"Exactly," Kushina said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Ryuichi doesn't blame you for this. He made his choice because he believed in all of you. So instead of beating yourself up, honor that trust. Get stronger, together. Be there for him when he wakes up."
Haru felt his shoulders relax under her touch, her words sinking into the deepest parts of him. He turned back to Ryuichi, a new resolve beginning to form in his heart.
"I will," he said quietly. "I promise."
Kushina smiled softly, squeezing his shoulder. "Good. Now, get some rest. He's going to need both of you at your best when he wakes up. And trust me—he will wake up. Ryuichi's not the type to let something like this keep him down for long."
As Kushina left the room, Haru pulled up a chair and sat beside Ryuichi's bed, his gaze steady and unwavering. He reached out, resting a hand lightly on the edge of the mattress.
Kushina's pov
I gently closed the door behind me as I left Konoha Hospital, my thoughts heavy with the events of the mission. The village was quiet in the late evening, but my mind was anything but. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the battlefield again—my genin, bruised and bloodied, facing odds that even seasoned jonin would struggle against.
If not for Ryuichi unlocking his Sharingan… if not for their teamwork… they would have died.
A chill ran down my spine. My breath hitched just thinking about it. This was supposed to have been a rescue mission, something dangerous but manageable. No one could have predicted that we would face the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist.
And not just one or two of them. All seven.
Yes, we succeeded in returning Team Chōza safely to the village. Yes, we fought with everything we had. And yes, the swordsmen suffered heavy losses. But the price my team paid… it was almost too much.
Ryuichi's battered body flashed in my mind. His left arm, heavily bandaged, had been nearly destroyed in the fight. Haru's and Fuyumi's exhaustion—every ounce of their chakra drained—was still fresh in my memory. And then there was me. Too late.
I clenched my fists. I was their sensei, their shield, and their sword. And I had failed to arrive in time to protect them. If not for the quick thinking and unrelenting courage of my students, this mission would have ended in disaster.
Three of my genin took down Kushimaru Kuriare. I killed two more myself. And Might Dai, in one final, heartbreaking act of bravery, defeated four of them singlehandedly before his life flickered out like a candle in the wind.
I shook my head at the thought. If I were stronger… faster… maybe I wouldn't have needed his sacrifice to finish the mission.
As I approached the Hokage's office, I sighed softly. It was foolish to think like this—counterproductive. I had told Haru as much when he doubted himself, yet here I was, letting the same doubts creep into my heart. The best thing I could do now was ensure that the sacrifices made on that battlefield were not in vain.
I pushed open the door to Hiruzen Sarutobi's office. He was seated at his desk, pipe in hand, his wise eyes immediately locking onto mine as I entered.
"Kushina, you've come to report on your mission, I presume?" he asked, his tone calm but laced with curiosity.
"Yes, Hokage-sama," I said, bowing slightly. "The mission was a success. We were able to bring Team Chōza back home safely. However…" I hesitated for a moment before continuing. "During our return, we encountered the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist."
Hiruzen's brows furrowed, and his pipe paused mid-air. "The Seven Swordsmen?" he asked, his voice sharp with concern. "Which of them did you face?"
"All seven," I replied plainly.
His eyes widened, and his hand slammed onto the desk. "All seven?"
"Yes, Hokage-sama. I've already submitted the written report detailing the incident."
Hiruzen immediately shuffled through the scrolls on his desk, pulling mine out and unfurling it. His eyes scanned each line quickly but with precision, his expression growing more serious as he read. When he finished, he leaned back in his chair, letting out a deep sigh before taking a long puff of his pipe.
"So… Dai," he said quietly, almost reverently.
I nodded. "Yes, Hokage-sama. He gave his life to take down four of the swordsmen."
Hiruzen closed his eyes for a moment, as if offering a silent prayer. "A generation of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, wiped out in a single mission," he muttered. "This is beyond an S-rank mission."
He turned his gaze back to me, sharp and discerning. "And the swords? What do you propose we do with them?"
"I suggest we return six of the swords to Kirigakure on the condition that they withdraw from the war," I said, my voice steady.
His brow raised slightly. "Only six? And the seventh?"
"I propose that Nuibari, the Needle Sword, be awarded to Haru Hyūga."
Hiruzen leaned back, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Isn't that a bit much for a genin?"
"Not at all," I replied firmly. "My team successfully took down Kushimaru Kuriare on their own. Their teamwork, their resolve—they have earned recognition for their actions. If Haru is to receive Nuibari, I believe Ryuichi and Fuyumi should also be honored accordingly."
The Hokage chuckled softly, breaking the solemnity of the moment. "You've always had a way of looking out for your students, Kushina. Very well. I'll see to it."
I bowed deeply. "Thank you, Hokage-sama."
As I left his office and stepped back into the cool night air, a flicker of determination burned within me. My students—my team—had faced unimaginable danger and emerged victorious. They weren't just my students anymore. They were warriors in their own right.
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Ryuichi's pov
The sunlight filtered through the hospital window, its gentle warmth pulling me from sleep. I groaned softly, raising my right hand to shield my eyes from the brightness as I blinked myself awake. My body felt like lead, heavy with exhaustion and pain, but my senses gradually sharpened.
A familiar figure sat at the desk near the foot of my bed, golden hair glowing in the sunlight. Tsunade-sama was poring over a stack of papers, her brow furrowed in concentration as she read.
"Tsunade-sama?" I croaked, my voice dry and hoarse.
Her head snapped up, and for a moment, an expression I couldn't quite place flashed across her face—something between relief and frustration—before softening into a warm smile. "Ryuichi! You're awake!"
She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor as she crossed the room in long strides. Before I could say anything, she leaned down and wrapped me in a tight hug, surprising me. Her embrace was strong, protective, yet gentle enough that it felt safe.
"I was so worried," she murmured, her voice uncharacteristically tender.
"Tsunade-sama…" I managed, unsure how to respond to the rare display of emotion.
She pulled back, resting her hands on my shoulders as she leaned back to study me. Her sharp hazel eyes scanned my face, as if checking for any lingering signs of danger. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm… okay, I think," I said groggily, rubbing my eyes. I instinctively moved my left hand to adjust the blanket, but it felt stiff and awkward. Looking down, I realized my arm was wrapped in heavy bandages. My chest tightened. "How long was I out?"
"Three days," she said, a mix of relief and exasperation coloring her tone. "You overexerted yourself, Ryuichi. On top of chakra exhaustion, your left hand…" Her voice trailed off as she glanced at my bandages, her jaw tightening.
"What happened to my hand?" I asked hesitantly.
Tsunade sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed as she took my bandaged hand in hers, her touch careful. "You pushed too much chakra through it during the fight, more than your body could handle. The strain severely damaged the chakra network in your hand."
A cold knot formed in my stomach. "Will it… heal?"
Her gaze softened, and she gave my hand a small squeeze. "The damage isn't permanent, but it will take time—probably a year or so—for your chakra pathways to recover fully. You won't be able to use chakra in this hand until then."
Her words were a mix of relief and devastation. It wasn't forever, but a year without full use of my chakra…
"I see," I said quietly, unsure how to process it.
Tsunade's hand moved to my shoulder, her grip firm and grounding. "I know it's hard, but you need to understand something, Ryuichi. You pushed yourself too far, and that kind of recklessness could've cost you your life."
Her words were sharp, but her tone was filled with concern.
"I had to," I said, my voice trembling. "If I hadn't, Haru and Fuyumi—"
"—would have died," she finished for me, her expression softening. "I know. And I'm not blaming you for protecting your teammates. You made the right call at the moment. But Ryuichi…" She hesitated, her voice dropping to a gentler tone. "If you keep putting everything on yourself, there won't be anything left of you to save anyone else."
Her words hung heavy in the air, and I felt a lump rise in my throat. "I didn't know what else to do," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
"That's why you're my apprentice," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Because I see someone who has the potential to become a truly great shinobi. But you've got to learn to value your own life as much as you value others'."
Her gaze softened, and she gently brushed a strand of hair from my face. "You remind me of my little brother, Nawaki," she said, her voice quieter now. "He was so full of dreams, so determined to protect everyone. But he never learned when to stop, and it cost him his life."
"Tsunade-sama…" I said, my voice cracking slightly.
"I couldn't save him," she continued, her expression distant and full of regret. "But I can save you. And I will. Even if it means dragging you out of danger myself."
Her words, so fierce and resolute, struck deep.
"Promise me," she said, her eyes locking with mine. "Promise me you'll take better care of yourself. Not for me, but for your team—and for you."
I swallowed hard, her words cutting through my guilt and self-doubt. "I promise," I said, my voice quiet but firm.
She nodded, a small smile returning to her lips. "Good. You've got a long recovery ahead, but we'll figure it out together. You're not alone in this, Ryuichi. You've got me, your teammates, and the entire village behind you."
Her words, filled with unwavering belief, made my chest tighten.
"Oh, and speaking of your teammates," she said, standing up and brushing off her coat. "They just left to grab lunch. They'll be back soon. But once you're back on your feet, we're going to start working on new techniques and methods for you to compensate for your hand until it fully heals."
I couldn't help but chuckle weakly, her determination infectious. "Yes, Tsunade-sama."
As she moved to the door, she paused, looking back at me with an almost motherly expression. "You're stronger than you realize, Ryuichi. Don't forget that."
When the door closed behind her, I stared at my bandaged hand again, flexing my fingers experimentally. The road ahead felt daunting, but for the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope.
Fuyumi's pov
Ryuichi Uchiha. The boy who saved my life.
There was so much I could say about him. He wasn't just a teammate; he held a special place in my heart. My first friend. My first rival. My partner in taijutsu. He was always there, an unshakable presence in my life.
At first, he didn't seem to like me much. Maybe it was my inherently cold nature or, more likely, his competitive streak being rubbed the wrong way because I was better at fūinjutsu. Whatever the reason, our initial relationship was strained. But over time, we grew to respect one another. Somewhere along the way, that respect became something deeper—a bond that neither of us spoke about but both understood.
Ryuichi, despite himself, became someone who looked out for me. He helped me improve my taijutsu and ninjutsu, probably out of pity for how terrible I was at first. I didn't mind. A lesson was a lesson, and Ryuichi wasn't one to waste time on those he didn't care about.
I never shared much about my past—it was too painful, too raw—but Ryuichi understood. He didn't push, didn't pry. Instead, he waited. Patient and steadfast, he waited until I was ready. That unspoken understanding was one of the many reasons I cared so deeply for him, and why I never pressed him about the nightmares that occasionally haunted his sleep. We had a quiet agreement: no questions, just trust.
But now, my first and closest friend lay in a hospital bed, battered and bandaged because of me. Because of my weakness. If only I had been stronger. Faster. Better.
Maybe if I had reacted quicker, he wouldn't have had to risk his life. Maybe if I'd dodged Kushimaru's attack instead of freezing, he wouldn't have needed to taken it so far as to have damaged his chakra network. Maybe if I had been someone worth relying on, this wouldn't have happened. Maybe this. Maybe that. It was all I could think about.
We were at Ichiraku Ramen, but my appetite was gone. Haru sat beside me, his cheerful demeanor slightly subdued. Even Kushina-sensei, usually full of energy, seemed quieter as she glanced at me from time to time.
"I'm going to visit Ryuichi," I said suddenly, pushing my half-full bowl away.
Kushina-sensei and Haru both looked at me with pity in their eyes.
"Don't blame yourself, Fuyumi," Haru said gently, his voice quiet but firm.
I turned my head, unable to meet his gaze. "I-I'll try…" I mumbled before standing and leaving.
But I couldn't stop blaming myself. Haru's words, no matter how well-intentioned, wouldn't change how I felt. I clenched my fists as I picked up my pace, walking, then running, the streets of Konoha blurring around me.
The hospital loomed larger as I approached. It had been rebuilt and expanded since Tsunade-sama's return, now an impressive structure that symbolized hope and healing. My heart pounded as I reached the entrance, weaving through the halls until I arrived at his door.
I paused, my hand on the doorknob, as faint voices drifted through. My eyes widened. He's awake.
Without thinking, I shoved the door open.
There he was. Ryuichi Uchiha. The boy who saved my life. My first friend.
He sat propped up against the pillows, his left arm wrapped heavily in bandages, but his face lit up in surprise when he saw me. Before he could say a word, I bolted to his bedside, flinging my arms around him in a tight hug.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, soaking into his hospital gown as I buried my face in his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," I choked out, the words tumbling out of me over and over as I clung to him.
For a moment, he was still, as if surprised by my reaction. Then I felt his bandaged left hand rest gently on my head, his fingers moving awkwardly to ruffle my hair.
"This is the first time I've seen you cry, Fuyumi," he said softly, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.
I sniffled, lifting my head to glare at him through my tears. "And it doesn't suit you at all," he added, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.
"Then don't make me cry, idiot," I shot back, the words catching in my throat as fresh tears rolled down my cheeks.
He chuckled, his smile growing warmer. "I'll try not to. I promise."
His fingers continued to gently ruffle my hair, the gesture soothing and reassuring. For a moment, the guilt and fear that had weighed on me since the mission melted away.
We stayed like that for a while, the room quiet except for the faint sound of our breathing.
"Fuyumi," he said after a moment, his voice serious. "You didn't fail me. You didn't do anything wrong."
"But if I were stronger—"
"Then you wouldn't need a teammate," he interrupted, his gaze steady. "We're a team, remember? You don't have to carry everything alone. That's what I'm here for."
The sincerity in his voice broke through the last of my defenses, and I nodded, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.
"You're my friend, Ryuichi," I said softly. "The first one I ever had. So don't you dare do something like this again. Don't you dare leave me."
"I won't," he promised, his voice as steady as his gaze.
And in that moment, despite the pain and the lingering fear, I believed him.
"Ahem, ahem," came a cough from behind me, startling me out of my emotions. I jolted upright, spinning around to see none other than Tsunade Senju herself standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a raised brow.
"Now, now," she began with an exasperated chuckle, "I understand how you feel, Fuyumi, but tackling my patient like that is completely inexcusable."
I flushed deep red, standing up quickly and brushing myself off. "T-Tsunade-sama, my apologies for not noticing you," I stammered, bowing politely, my embarrassment plain to see.
Tsunade chuckled, her stern expression softening. She stepped forward and patted my head a couple of times, her touch surprisingly gentle. "Don't worry about it, Fuyumi. Just make sure you keep taking good care of my student."
Ryuichi, who had been watching the exchange, broke into a cheeky grin. "C'mon, Tsunade-sama, me and Fuyumi-chan were having a heart-touching moment!" he teased, his tone light despite the bandages and fatigue still clinging to him.
My face turned an even deeper shade of red. I clenched my fists, suddenly desperate to sock him in the face, injured or not.
Tsunade, seemingly enjoying my mortification, chuckled again. "Hmmm," she mused. "He's got a point, Fuyumi—moments like these are precious. But next time, try to keep them a little less...enthusiastic," she added with a wink.
Before I could respond, the door swung open, and Kushina-sensei entered with Haru right behind her.
"Ryuichi!" Haru exclaimed, his face lighting up as he spotted his teammate sitting up. Without hesitation, he launched himself toward the bed, fully intending to embrace Ryuichi in a similarly overzealous manner.
"Oh no, you don't!" Tsunade said, stepping in like a force of nature. With reflexes faster than lightning, she snatched Haru mid-air by the back of his collar, holding him aloft like a kitten.
"Wait for me!" Kushina chimed in, her grin wide as she strode in after Haru. "Ryuichi, you look better already! Fuyumi warmed you up, huh?"
She gave me a teasing wink, which only deepened my embarrassment. I looked away, my hands balled at my sides.
"Alright, that's enough chaos!" Tsunade announced firmly. "Ryuichi is still not completely recovered, and he needs rest. The rest of you—out!"
"But—" Haru began to protest, only for Tsunade to cut him off with an unimpressed glare.
"No 'buts.' Out!"
With that, she unceremoniously escorted both Haru and Kushina toward the door, their complaints falling on deaf ears.
As I made to follow them, I glanced back at Ryuichi. He was watching us go with an amused smile, his eyes meeting mine. I gave him a small nod before slipping out of the room, my chest still heavy with unspoken emotions but a faint warmth spreading in their place.
Outside, I let out a long breath. My heart was still racing from everything that had just happened, but for the first time in days, it wasn't just from guilt.
=Chapter End=