Hey, everyone!

Here's another one and Happy New Year everyone! We took the whole day to write this one since it's the new year. This one is also slightly longer which we will never do again. Also, we listen to three songs while writing Little song from Naruto, Mc Mong-sick to death and Heaven shaking event from Naruto. A little motivation helps.

Disclaimer: We do not own any Franchise. We just love being imaginative.

Chapter - 7

"What's going on?" The void was a strange blanket. It wasn't cold, nor was it warm. It was just… nothing. Naruto floated, a luminous figure in the endless expanse. His body, below his head, was a pure, radiating white, a stark contrast to the inky black that enveloped him. He wasn't aware of the light emanating from him, or his lack of physical body feature. He was just… there, drifting aimlessly, his mind as blank as the surrounding emptiness, "Wasn't I supposed to do something?"

His will was slowly withering away, "Natasha, quack doctor… I have to…" But he couldn't finish his words, he simply couldn't remember where to finish.

"Let's do this, Pain!"

"Iruka-sensei, thanks for the food!"

"Hehe, Hinata."

"No, it can't be."

"You bastard!"

Around him, like morbidly beautiful soap bubbles, floated spheres of darkness. Each one shimmered with a muted inner light, showcasing glimpses of his life. A triumphant roar as he defeated Pain, a shared bowl of ramen with Iruka-sensei, the heart-wrenching scene of his first kiss with Hinata, tears of loss for Jiraiya and the rage at Danzo. They spun and danced around him, capturing every shade of emotion he'd ever experienced, yet he remained oblivious. He didn't see his victories celebrated, his heartaches replayed, or even the silent, lonely moments he'd endured.

Unbeknownst to him, he was floating above colossal, pale hands. They emerged from the abyss, stark against the black canvas, reaching upwards, impossibly huge and skeletal. They seemed to be yearning, reaching for him without actually touching. It was a silent, cosmic ballet of pull and indifference.

Naruto's face, the only part of him that retained its human form, held a weariness that belied his young age. He seemed to be existing more than living, suspended in a state of profound apathy. He wasn't unhappy, nor was he happy. He just was.

Occasionally, a voice, soft at first, would whisper his name. "Naruto…" It was a faint echo, almost swallowed by the void. It grew gradually louder, more insistent, a beacon in the desolate nothing. "…Naruto…" Then, a booming call, filled with a powerful undercurrent, shattered the silence. "NARUTO UZUMAKI!"

His eyes snapped open, the vibrant blue shining at a sudden, piercing light in the pallid scene. The name, his full name, jarred something within him, like a key grating in a long-forgotten lock. He remembered. He remembered the sun, the wind, the taste of Ichiraku-ramen, the weight of his friends, and the constant battle to protect them. He remembered his parents and their love. He remembered his dream.

His eyes darted around, no longer blank, but filled with a desperate search for understanding. The dark bubbles pulsed with renewed intensity, their scenes now painfully clear. He remembered them all, each victory, each loss, each moment that had shaped him.

Suddenly, a blinding light erupted from the void, engulfing him in its brilliance. He instinctively raised an arm, shielding his eyes from the intensity. The darkness, for the first time, receded, pushed back by the sheer force of the overwhelming light. He felt a tug, a pull towards something familiar, something… real.

"I remember, I remember? I remember!" When the light finally began to dim, Naruto lowered his arm, blinking against the unfamiliar brightness. He stared in disbelief. He wasn't in the void anymore. He was standing in a small, cozy apartment, bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun. He instantly recognized the slightly worn, yet comfortable furnishings. The faded wallpaper, the small kitchen with its chipped but lovingly used teacups, the stack of books by the bedside table…it was all eerily familiar.

"Mom and Dad's old apartment?" This was... this was the apartment his parents, Minato and Kushina, had used when they were first married. It was a place he'd only ever seen in fragmented memories and old photos, a place imbued with a bittersweet sense of love and loss. He looked around, his heart thumping a wild tattoo against his ribs. The air felt thick with a long-forgotten ache. He put a hand to his cheek and realized that he could feel the roughness and prickliness of his stubble. He had his body and clothing back. He was whole.

"Everyone." He was in an ethereal state, a ghost in his own memory. He could see, he could hear, but he couldn't touch; he couldn't interact. There, sitting opposite a small wooden table, was Jiraiya, the pervy sage, his godfather.

Naruto floated, a spectral observer in a space that felt both familiar and utterly alien. He saw him then – Jiraiya, his godfather, the pervy sage, the man who had been a father when he had none. A pang of longing, sharp and familiar, pierced through Naruto's ethereal form. "Pervy-sage!" he called out, but his voice was just a whisper in this strange void, unheard, unheeded. He reached out, his hand passing through the air, unable to touch the familiar figure of his teacher. He was a ghost, a silent witness to a scene he never expected to see.

Before he could fully grasp the situation as if summoned by the very fabric of his memories, another figure appeared. It was Minato, his father, the Fourth Hokage, his figure radiant with a warm, familiar light. The two men, a student and his teacher, sat together as if time had no hold on them, "Sensei, thank you for coming by."

They were engaged in a conversation, a casual banter about Jiraiya's book, "The Tale of a Gutsy Ninja." Jiraiya was lamenting its poor sales. He mused aloud, his voice laced with a melancholic undercurrent, "It seems the shinobi world doesn't care much about how you lived, but how you died."

Jiraiya sighed, running a hand through his spiky white hair. "The Tale of a Gutsy Ninja'… it's not selling well at all, Minato." He chuckled ruefully. "Maybe it's too optimistic for this world. It's always been about how a shinobi dies, not how he lived." He paused, his gaze distant, lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts.

"Looking back… my life… it's a litany of failures, really. I couldn't stop Orochimaru… I couldn't protect those I cared about…" A shadow crossed his face. "I wish… I wish I could have died the way the Hokages did, with achievements that outweighed their mistakes. A story is only as good as its ending; a plot twist, a lesson learned. But my life... It feels like nothing but mistakes, no grand gesture to wash them clean. I wished I could have died a splendid shinobi." Then, his thoughts turned inward, reflecting on his own perceived failures - his inability to stop his friend, Orochimaru, from going down a dark path, his failure to protect those he loved. He wished he could have achieved something that resonated with the world more, something that defined him as a great shinobi. He wished for a twist, for an ending that would wash away his past mistakes and make his story worth remembering. He wanted to die a splendid shinobi, a story they would tell to those after him. The weight of his self-doubt became almost palpable.

"That's not true…" Naruto felt a wrench in his chest, a deep, painful empathy for his teacher. He wanted to tell Jiraiya that he was wrong, that he wasn't a failure, that he was everything Naruto had ever aspired to be. He tried to reach out, to speak, but he was a prisoner in this spectral existence.

Jiraiya's inner monologue a torrent of self-doubt. "I was supposed to be the one to find the one who would bring either peace or destruction to the world… But I couldn't even do that. I just kept accumulating more reasons to call myself a failure… this story of mine, it's worthless." Jiraiya continued, his thoughts spiraling further into negativity, concluding that his life was just a "worthless story." He had been meant to find and guide the one who could bring peace or destruction, but he had failed, piling up more shortcomings.

Suddenly, Minato's voice, gentle but firm, cut through the darkness of Jiraiya's thoughts. "On no, I don't believe that at all." Minato held up the worn copy of the book, his eyes shining behind his glasses. "I think this tale is wonderful. Every chapter reads like one of those legendary exploits you told me about, your adventures as a young shinobi." He smiled, a warm, familiar smile that mirrored the one Naruto often wore. "It feels… almost autobiographical. The main character's determination to never give up is amazing, just like you."

Jiraiya stared, his mouth slightly agape, completely taken aback by his student's unexpected words. He had never seen his own story in this light, "Haha! You think so?"

Then Minato shifted his gaze, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Sensei," he said, "I was wondering… I want to ask you something." He paused, a hint of bashfulness in his voice. "I would like to name our unborn child after the main character of your tale, Naruto." He beamed. "I want him to be just like the amazing character you wrote about, with that same determination."

Jiraiya was struck speechless. He blinked a few times, his mind struggling to process the information. "Naruto? But… that name… It came to me while I was eating ramen. Are you sure?"

"Naruto, it's a wonderful name." At that moment, Kushina appeared, her pregnant belly prominent. She, too, loved the name Naruto and was overjoyed to give it to their son.

"Kushina, Minato…" Jiraiya was stunned into silence again. The warmth of their words washed over him, erasing the negativity that had been plaguing his thoughts. He looked from Minato's bright smile to Kushina's radiant face, and then a genuine, heartfelt smile broke across his own features. He asked again, softer this time, "Are you… are you really sure?"

Minato looked directly at Jiraiya. He spoke with conviction, "You're my sensei, a great shinobi, and there is no one like you in the whole world." These words, filled with genuine admiration and affection, shattered the wall of negative thoughts that had been consuming Jiraiya.

Naruto watched as the scene froze, becoming a still life of the past. He was left with the image of a thoughtful Jiraiya, who seemed to be reliving the moment, muttering to himself, "Yes, I gave that child his name…"

Naruto realized now, for the first time, the story behind his name, a tale woven with love, admiration, and a touch of ramen-fueled whimsey. He felt a profound sense of joy, deep in his core, a happiness that warmed even his ethereal form. In his aimless drifting, he had been given an anchor, a connection to the man he revered and to the parents who loved him enough to give him the name they felt he deserved. He was Naruto Uzumaki, and that, he realised, was a very important story to tell.

"My name…" Naruto felt an overwhelming surge of emotions. He had never known the story of how he was named, and now, hearing it, feeling the love and admiration that had inspired it, filled his heart with a joy he had never experienced.

As the surroundings began to dissolve into a blinding white light, a miniature version of Naruto, from his childhood, suddenly appeared, running towards Jiraiya, "Pervy-sage! Someday I'm gonna be Hokage and you'll look up to me! And no one will forget the name Naruto Uzumaki!" He puffed out his little chest with all the determination a child could muster. "No way, I'm ever going back on my word! That's my ninja way!"

Jiraiya's eyes soften, a fond smile appearing on his face as he placed his hand on the smaller Naruto's head. "Naruto, now that I think about it, you're just like that novel's main character. You inherited Minato and Kushina's wishes, their hopes. And yet, and yet I…"

The small Naruto, with the same fiery determination, punched Jiraiya with a well-aimed uppercut. "Haha, you rascal."

Jiraiya stood up, the smaller Naruto and the rest of the surrounding fading away, leaving only Naruto watching his teacher, his old sensei. Jiraiya looked at him, a powerful gaze filled with resolve. "Naruto, let me explain something to you. There's only one thing that matters if you're a shinobi or not."

He started walking towards him, closer and closer. "And it is the guts to never give up," he said, his voice firm. "Never going back on your word, no matter what."

Tears welled up in Naruto's eyes, the memories of their training, their laughter, their shared struggles flooding his mind.

"Never giving up despite what the odds might tell you to do, Naruto," Jiraiya emphasized, placing his hands on Naruto's shoulders, his grip reassuring. "Naruto, if that's truly your ninja way, then, as your teacher, I have no business whining. As everyone knows, a student inherits his ninja way from his teacher. Right, Naruto?"

"Yeah!" Naruto finally managed to respond, his voice choked with emotion.

Jiraiya's form began to flicker, fading into the light. "So, what are you still doing here?" He smacked Naruto playfully on the head, laughing.

"That hurt, Pervy-sage!" Naruto complained, rubbing the spot.

"Go, Naruto. Aren't there people out there to save?"

He looked at Jiraiya with a mixture of gratitude and sadness. "Pervy-sage…"

"Oh, don't look at me like that. Now, go back, and never forget us again."

Jiraiya turned towards the light, slowly disappearing. "The tale of Jiraiya the gallant. Hmm... The final chapter, I'll call it. Frog at the bottom of a well drifts off into the great ocean. " He smiled one last time before vanishing completely into a speck of light.

Naruto awoke with a gasp, his chest heaving. The ethereal dream, the encounter with his teacher, was a powerful, emotional experience he'd never forget. He knew, in the deepest part of him, that he had a mission to fulfill. He was Naruto Uzumaki, the boy named after a fictional character who embodied never giving up, and he would not break his word, that was his ninja way, and he would live up to the legacy Jiraiya and his parents had given him. He smiled, a sad but strong smile, knowing his teacher had finally finished writing his story.

It will also take time for anyone to realized the small book near the bed Naruto had woken up.

The rough linen of the cot scratched at Naruto's skin as he blinked awake. The familiar, yet slightly unsettling, smell of antiseptic and herbs filled his nostrils. He was back in Dr. Vache's clinic beds, but something was different. The usual bustle of activity was absent, replaced by an unnerving stillness. Only Vache was present, his face etched with an equal measure of weariness and relief.

"Naruto! You're awake!" Vache exclaimed, his voice rough. He was a tall, thin man, his usual crisp white coat now rumpled, and dark circles ringed his eyes. Naruto noticed the doctor's hands, calloused and worn, testament to the endless hours he'd spent preparing medicines. "We thought…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "We were worried."

He looked at the doctor, his mind racing back to the last moment he remembered—a massive tremor, and a chaotic scene of destruction. "What happened?" he asked, his voice firm but laced with concern.

Vache sighed, his eyes reflecting the weight of recent events. "There was an accident near the mine. A catastrophic cave-in. Oleg carried you here when you suddenly fell unconscious after hearing the news. I... I thought you were in shock. I should have realized you were more affected than just that."

Vache explained about the massive tremor, the catastrophic cave-in at the mines, and the frantic scramble to set up a medical camp. He recounted how he and his sister, Natasha, had gone into the mines for a routine check before the disaster, but hadn't found Naruto as he was off participating in the fight club. He blamed himself for Naruto's involvement in the tournament, his face twisting with guilt.

As Naruto listened, a strange sense of clarity washed over him. Fragments of memory began to coalesce – a village hidden in the leaves, a vibrant energy coursing through him, a name… "Naruto Uzumaki," he whispered, the syllables feeling right, a key unlocking a door in his mind. He remembered Konoha, the academy, his friends, his dreams.

He looked at Vache, who was still working, and said, "I remember everything now. My name, my past, and my promise."

"Naruto Uzumaki, huh?" Vache chuckled softly, "Well, it seems you are finally free of whatever affliction took your memory. I'm glad. Now we know 'Naruto' isn't just a nickname then?" He then paused for a moment, his eyes crinkled in amusement, "You know, you used to gawk at my little sister, Natasha. She's not all that much older than you, you know."

Naruto's face flushed crimson. He stammered, trying to defend himself, "Where the hell did that came from!? And I… I wasn't! It was… uh… the light! Yeah, the way the light hit her hair! And she's always been kind and brave. But that's not the point!"

Vache's face shifted, his playful smile fading into a melancholic one. "You know Naruto... if you were interested in her, I wouldn't mind. I know you are the kind of person that would protect anyone, no matter what."

"Wait, what are you saying this? Naruto got concerned at the unusual behaviour of the man. "Where is Natasha?" he asked, his voice tight with dread.

The light in Vache's eyes dimmed. He confessed, his voice barely a whisper, that he was the only one who managed to escape the cave after finding a small, narrow path. "I… I left them," he admitted, his voice cracking. "Natasha, the miners... I could have pushed her out first. I hesitated." He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

Naruto's anger flared. He grabbed Vache's rumpled lab coat, pulling him up until their faces were inches apart. "Where's the smart man who always has a plan?!" he roared, his voice shaking with fury. "Where's the doctor who always knows what to do?!"

Vache's eyes welled with tears, and he felt the weight of his actions. "I know, Naruto. I know. But I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what I might find if I go back. I'm afraid I won't be able to save anyone."

Vache simply stared back, his eyes filled with a bleak acceptance. He seemed to think that he deserved Naruto's anger. Naruto dropped him back down, his anger fading, replaced by a cold determination. He stripped off the miner's garb, pulling on a simple white shirt and a bew dark orange jacket without zipping it. He turned to leave.

"Are you going to the mines?" The worn-out man asked.

"Yeah, I have to." Naruto did not hesitate as his answer was very obvious to him.

Vache, huddled in the corner, had pulled the clinic window shut, casting the room into near darkness. "As a doctor, I would advise you to rest and recover," he croaked, his voice barely audible.

Naruto scoffed. He knew it was good advice but he had something else he needed to do.

"But," Vache continued, his voice trembling, "As a brother… please, save my sister, Naruto." The anguish in his voice was raw and palpable.

Naruto finally smiled, a real, defiant grin that stretched from ear to ear. The name "Naruto Uzumaki" resonated within him, echoing the spirit of never giving up, of never breaking a promise. The name felt like the sun itself, radiating warmth and strength, a promise whispered through generations. It was a name that carried the unyielding will to never give up, to never break a promise.

He glanced at the satchel beside him, meticulously packed by Vache. It held the medical supplies, the bandages, the splints - all tools Vache had so carefully organized for the medical camp near the collapsed mine. He ran a hand over the canvas, a surge of power coursing through him. He was ready. "I'm overflowing with power," he whispered, the memory of Jiraiya's laugh echoing in his mind

Holding his hands, Naruto formed the cross seal with his index and middle fingers. "Multi-shadow clone jutsu!"

Hundreds of Naruto's popped into existence with soft puffs of white smoke, materializing around him, each one an exact copy, down to the determined glint in their eyes.

"My name is Naruto Uzumaki!" he shouted, the words reverberating through the near empty clinic and out into the sunlit street. The townsfolk of Boulder town looked up, their faces etched with confusion and awe a the young man, "I never go back on my word!"

With that final bellow, Naruto and his clones surged forward, scrambling up the roofs, over the stone ledges, leaping over the hills - a blur of orange and white hurtling towards the great mine in the underworld.

He was no longer just moving; he was a force of nature, a whirlwind in motion. Every leap, every bound, was fueled by the memory of Jiraiya, by the promise he had given Vache. He wouldn't let Natasha, the miner trapped beneath the rubble, down. He wouldn't let down the people of Bolder town, who were looking at him with hopeful eyes. He was Naruto Uzumaki, and he was going to keep his promise, no matter what.

The air crackled with their combined speed and energy as the multitude of orange figures descended upon the mine, ready to face whatever lay ahead. This wasn't a simple medical camp anymore; this was a rescue mission, a testament to the power of unwavering resolve. This was Naruto Uzumaki, finally back on his feet and living his name. The mine waited, but it had no idea what was coming.

…

A jagged maw of twisted steel and fractured rock marked the entrance to the Great Mine, a gaping wound in the earth that had swallowed countless souls. The tremor, a monstrous groan from the depths, had been followed by a roaring collapse, leaving behind only silence and the frantic cries of those who had lost loved ones within.

Before this scene of devastation stood a wall of steel – the Silvermane Guards, their armor reflecting the pale, artificial light of Belobog. They were statues of discipline, their expressions grim, their weapons held ready. They were there to maintain order, to investigate, and to ensure no one interfered with the delicate task ahead. But their stoicism was a bitter pill for the crowd gathered beyond the barricade.

Inside the guarded perimeter, Commander Morana, a woman whose sharp features mirrored the angles of her armor, conferred in hushed tones with a group of soot-stained miners. These were the lucky ones, those who had scrambled free before the tremors ripped through the mine, swallowing their comrades in a cascade of rock and steel. Morana's voice, though low, carried a weight of authority, probing for details the exact location of the collapse, the potential number trapped, any possible escape routes. Her brow furrowed deeper with each grim revelation.

Oleg, a man of robust build and a heart as strong as the ore he once mined, stood at the forefront of the anxious throng. His face, usually etched with a jovial grin, was now a mask of worry. He had assembled every able-bodied man he could find, a ragtag force eager to dig through the rubble, to rescue their families, their friends, their neighbors. But the Silvermane stood firm, their pikes forming an unyielding barrier.

"We can help!" Many old folks pleaded, their voice rough with frustration. "We know the tunnels! We can reach them faster!"

Around him, a volatile mix of miners' families and concerned citizens surged and muttered. Their faces were etched with worry, their eyes darting towards the ruined bridge with desperate hope and gnawing fear. Some wept openly, others clenched their fists, their anger simmering just beneath the surface. Oleg, a man known for his quiet strength and unwavering loyalty to the people of Belobog, moved through the crowd, his calming presence a small buffer against the encroaching panic.

"Easy now, friends," he'd murmur, placing a reassuring hand on a trembling shoulder. "The guards are doing their duty. We need to let the Commander… plan." But even his own voice wavered slightly. How could anyone plan for this? How could anyone bring back those lost in the earth's violent embrace?

The murmurs grew louder, more insistent. "My son! He was on the day shift!" a woman wailed, her voice cracking with anguish. "Why aren't they doing something? Why are they just standing there?"

A burly miner, his face streaked with grime and tears, stepped forward, his voice rough with desperation. "Oleg, we need to go in. We know the tunnels. We can help."

Oleg's gaze flickered towards the stoic Silvermane Guards. He understood their orders, the need for control in such a chaotic situation. But he also saw the raw pain in the eyes of his neighbors, the unbearable weight of waiting when every second felt like an eternity. He opened his mouth to speak, to try and reason with the guards, to plead for even a small search party, but then he saw them – a ripple of orange, a blur of motion against the grey backdrop of the collapsed mine.

A small group of children, huddled together near Oleg's legs, looked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. One brave little girl, her face smudged with dirt, tugged at his coat. "Mister Oleg," she whispered, her voice trembling, "Can anyone save them?"

Oleg looked down at the boy, his heart aching. He wanted to give him comfort, to promise a happy ending. But the truth was a heavy weight in his chest. He saw the desperation in the faces around him, the simmering anger threatening to boil over. He held his tongue, unsure what to say.

Then, a flicker of orange caught his eye. A blur, moving faster than anything he had ever seen, streaked through the air. It was a figure, leaping impossible distances with a grace that defied gravity. And then, it was closer, revealing a shock of spiky blonde hair and a familiar, determined face.

Then he saw it. A distinct flash of vibrant orange, not just one, but many. And the way they moved… impossible leaps across the uneven terrain, a speed that defied gravity. And then he recognized the familiar whisker marks etched on a determined face, multiplied a hundredfold.

A genuine smile, the first in what felt like an age, spread across Oleg's face. Relief washed over him in a warm wave. He looked down at the children, his voice firm and filled with newfound confidence. "Yes," he said, his gaze fixed on the approaching orange storm. "Yes, I'm sure someone is coming."

"?"

"What's happening?!"

"Is it another tremor?!"

The ground vibrated with the force of dozens of landings. Naruto, a whirlwind of vibrant energy, descended upon the scene, his clones fanning out around him like a rapidly expanding orange tide. His blue eyes scanned the devastation, taking in the collapsed bridge, the anxious crowd, and the rigid line of Silvermane Guards.

Naruto, his face set in a serious expression, surveyed the scene from his perch high above the crowd. He had felt the shift in the earth, the disturbance of the natural order, and had arrived without hesitation. He recognized the familiar faces from the town, the worry etched in their lines. He saw the rigid stance of the Silvermane, their intention to control the situation, but also their limitations.

"Medic supplies! Drop them to the camp!" the real Naruto shouted, his voice ringing with authority. Dozens of clones peeled off, carrying sacks overflowing with bandages, tinctures, and splints towards a makeshift medical station overseen by Doctor Vache's assistants. "The rest of you, follow me! We're going in!"

The small contingent of Silvermane Guards, their training etched into their very being, stood their ground, halberds raised. But against the sheer, overwhelming force of hundreds of Narutos, their disciplined formation was meaningless. It was like trying to hold back the ocean with a dam made of sandbags.

Before they could even register the sheer number of their opponents, they were engulfed. A blur of orange jackets and spiky blonde hair swarmed around them, not with malice, but with an unstoppable momentum. They were jostled, bumped, and overwhelmed by the sheer density of bodies. Blocking was a futile effort, their halberds finding only air or the backs of clones already moving past. They stumbled, lost their footing, and found themselves swept aside, deposited unceremoniously into the throng of onlookers, their carefully constructed barrier utterly obliterated. The path to the collapsed mine was open. The rescue had begun.

Oleg and the other miners watched in stunned silence. They had never seen anything like it. The fear and anger in their hearts began to give way to awe, and then, to a surge of relief.

With a clear path, Naruto leapt down, his presence radiating an aura of focused determination. He glanced at Oleg, giving him a nod. "Tell people to get ready to help. We'll get them out of there."

The Silvermane guards, trampled and bewildered, could only watch as Naruto and his army plunged towards the gaping wound in the earth. The ocean of orange had arrived, and for the first time since the collapse, hope was not just a whisper, but a resounding roar. The rescue had begun.

Back in the mines. Doctor Natasha, her face smudged with grime and exhaustion etched deep into the lines around her eyes, moved with a practiced efficiency that belied the frantic nature of their situation. The rhythmic clang of dripping water echoed through the cavernous mine shaft, a somber metronome against the groans and shallow breaths of the injured.

She moved with practiced efficiency, her gloved hands working quickly, methodically. A deep gash on a miner's leg, another's arm twisted at an unnatural angle. Each injury was a fresh surge of adrenaline laced with fear. There were too many. The limited supplies she'd had were dwindling fast. She'd already torn strips from her lab coat, the once-pristine fabric now stained with blood and dust, forming makeshift bandages. She had to ration the anti-inflammatories, prioritize the most critical cases, a difficult choice that weighed heavily on her spirit.

The miners, bless their souls, were doing their best. They fetched the stored water, held makeshift splints, and offered what comfort they could. Their large, calloused hands were gentle as they helped her lift and position the injured, and she knew they were pushing down their own fear to focus on the immediate needs. But they were miners, not medical professionals. Their strength, however considerable, couldn't heal wounds or ease the pain.

"How long, Doctor Natasha?" A miner, his face etched with worry, asked the question that hung in the air. The air, she noticed, was getting thinner. The crush of bodies in the enclosed space was consuming the oxygen, and she could feel the subtle shift in pressure.

"We will be fine," she said, her voice betraying none of the rising panic she felt. It was crucial to keep their spirits up. "My brother, Doctor Vache, he won't leave us. He'll have help coming. They'll be searching."

A flicker of hope sparked in the miner's eyes, the fragile, flickering light that she desperately wanted to fan into a roaring flame. It was a hope she needed too, a lifeline in the face of the encroaching despair. She had to believe that Vache, her steadfast, reliable brother, was coordinating a rescue mission outside. The thought of him leading the charge was a small comfort, like a prayer in the dark.

Another man cried out, a sharp, ragged sound that tore through the oppressive silence. Natasha's head snapped up. It was one of the miners, his leg pinned beneath a fallen beam. She'd splinted it hours ago, but the pain was clearly unbearable.

"Goro, can you and the others help me shift this?" Natasha's voice was hoarse, barely a whisper against the cavern's sighs. Goro, his broad shoulders strained beneath the weight of worry, nodded grimly. He and Marek, another brawny miner, positioned themselves carefully, grunting with the effort as they slowly levered the beam.

Natasha knelt beside the man as soon as there was space. The makeshift bandage, strips torn from her own once-immaculate white lab coat, was soaked through. Her medical kit, thankfully intact during the initial cave-in, was now pathetically depleted. Antiseptic was a distant memory, painkillers were rationed down to heartbreakingly small doses.

She pressed clean strips of her lab coat against the wound, her touch gentle despite the urgency. It felt futile. So many injuries, so little to work with. A deep gash on Dimitri's arm festered despite her best efforts. Old man Petrov coughed weakly, his chest crushed, his breath growing shallower with each passing hour.

A wave of despair washed over her, a cold, suffocating dread. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, fighting it back. She couldn't afford to give in. These men, their lives tethered to her dwindling resources and her fraying composure, needed her.

"Tell me a story, Doctor," a weak voice murmured. It was young Ilya, his face pale and streaked with dust. He had a nasty head wound, and his grip on consciousness seemed to be slipping.

Natasha forced a weary smile. "A story?"

"Yes," Ilya whispered, his eyes fluttering. "About… about your brother. Doctor Vache."

"What's this? Don't bother the doctor when she's treating you guys!" Goro, the chief miner, a mountain of a man with a voice like rumbling thunder, moved through the huddled groups. He was a calming presence, a rock in the rising tide of fear. "Enough with the doom and gloom," he bellowed, his voice echoing through the cavern. "We're miners! We face dangers every shift. We'll face this one too. Doctor Natasha is here, she's patching us up, and her brother will be coming, just like she said. We'll all be home to our wives and kids before the moon is up!"

His words, delivered with a conviction that vibrated through their very bones, settled the rising anxiety. Some of the younger miners had started to murmur, their thoughts turning to the worst-case scenarios, but Goro's booming voice broke through the negativity.

Natasha watched him, a small smile playing on her lips. Goro's strength wasn't just physical; it was the strength of character, the steadfast hope that refused to be extinguished. She needed him as much as the other miners. It was a fragile alliance, a delicate dance between her medical expertise, the miners' brute strength, and Goro's unyielding spirit.

"It's fine Goro, a story won't hurt."

Hope, a fragile butterfly, fluttered in Natasha's chest. Vache. He was a brilliant traumatologist. If anyone could organize a rescue, it would be him. She clung to that thought like a lifeline.

"Vache," she began, her voice gaining strength, "He's… well, he's a bit of a whirlwind. Always rushing, always thinking ten steps ahead. Remember that time he accidentally set the clinic lab on fire trying to invent a self-sterilizing bandage?"

A few weak chuckles rippled through the small group gathered around them. Goro, his massive frame a reassuring presence behind her, gave her a small, encouraging nod. He understood. Distraction, a flicker of normalcy, was a powerful medicine too.

She continued, spinning tales of Vache's mishaps and triumphs, his dedication and his sometimes-chaotic brilliance. With each story, she felt a sliver of her own hope returning, fueled by the belief in her brother's unwavering resolve. He wouldn't abandon her. He wouldn't abandon them.

She also mentions Naruto's and Vache's joint misdemeanour which created laughter amongst as they knew Naruto very well and hearing a story of him outside the mines was a great distraction as well.

But the reality of their situation was a heavy weight she couldn't ignore. The air felt thick, almost viscous. The flickering helmet lamps seemed dimmer, struggling in the suffocating atmosphere. She knew the signs. Oxygen levels were dropping. The sheer number of people crammed into this enclosed space, their breathing a collective exhalation of precious air, was accelerating the process.

She glanced at Goro, catching his eye. He understood too. He'd been a miner his entire life. He knew the dangers, the subtle shifts in the air, the telltale signs of a closing tomb.

"We need to conserve energy," Goro's deep voice rumbled, his words directed at the restless murmurs spreading through the group. "Quiet now. Save your breath. Doctor Natasha is doing all she can."

His words carried weight, a reassuring anchor in the rising tide of fear. He was their rock, their leader in this subterranean nightmare. But even his stoicism couldn't mask the grim reality etched on his face.

Natasha moved from one injured miner to another, her movements mechanical, fueled by adrenaline and sheer willpower. She re-bandaged, soothed, and offered what little comfort she could. She knew time was running out. Not just for the critically injured, but for them all. The lack of oxygen would begin to take its toll, clouding minds, weakening bodies.

She looked up at the rough, unforgiving rock above them, the darkness swallowing the faint beams of their helmet lights. Was Vache out there, fighting his way through red tape and bureaucratic hurdles? Was he rallying the rescue teams, his voice a force of nature pushing through the chaos?

She had to believe it. She had to cling to that hope, that image of her brother, his brow furrowed in concentration, orchestrating their escape. Because in this suffocating darkness, amidst the groans of pain and the dwindling air, that belief was the only medicine left in her depleted arsenal. And she would keep administering it, one whispered story, one desperate prayer, at a time.

Just as she was about to address another miner who had been complaining about his lungs, Goro's booming voice cut through the air. "You!" he roared, shaking with a rage Natasha had never witnessed before.

Goro was dragging a man, one of the few who had escaped the debris unscathed, towards her. He slammed him to the ground in front of her, the man landing with a heavy thud.

"Confess," Goro growled, his voice like the rumble of falling rocks.

The man, named Ludo, looked up, his eyes darting between the angry faces of his fellow miners and Natasha. He tried to deny at first but Goro would just roar louder. Ludo finally broke, his face crumbling. "Yes," he stammered, his voice a mere whisper in the heavy air. "I did it."

He confessed, his words tumbling out in a rush. How a shady individual from the overworld, a man with smooth words and too much money, had offered him a fortune to place boxes around the mine, hidden in plain sight. He had never suspected they were bombs. He was just trying to make a better life for his family—for his brother, who was trapped with them, his leg crushed beneath a beam.

"I didn't know!" Ludo cried, his voice laced with desperation. "I swear I didn't. Please, blame me, but not my brother, not my family. I'll take responsibility."

There was a stunned silence. Then, a collective murmur rippled through the miners. Anger, betrayal, and a chilling understanding painted their faces. They understood Ludo's desperation, the lure of easy money, but the cold, hard reality of the consequences was devastating.

Natasha felt a surge of heat rush through her. Not simply from the suffocating air, but from a burning anger that went beyond simple frustration. She knew about these tricks the people from the overworlds do, people so much different from her parents and her brother. They saw the underworld as a place of ignorant people ready to be manipulated. These rich parasites came in with their offers and their quick schemes, ready to exploit and never look back. The blatant disregard for human lives, the casual sacrifice of the lives they didn't deem equal to theirs... It made her blood boil. This was exactly what Vache had warned her about.

"You will be handed over to the Silvermane guards when they arrive," she told Ludo, her voice low and cold, devoid of her usual warmth. "What you have done will not be easily forgiven, least of all by the families who have been harmed from your actions."

She forced herself to turn back to the injured, her professional mask slipping back into place. The anger was still there, a knot in her gut, but she knew she couldn't let it consume her. She had to stay focused, to keep working, to do what she could. They needed her, even more so now.

But as she tended to another miner's wounds, a chilling certainty settled over her. The fight wasn't just against the debris and the dwindling oxygen. They were fighting against a system that valued profit over lives, a system that saw them as disposable. And that, she realised, might be a battle they would never truly win. Yet, she wouldn't stop fighting. She couldn't.

…

It felt as if a day had passed, and the silence from the outside world was deafening. The dim glow from the geomarrow ores, which usually brought comfort, now seemed mocking, an unyielding vigil in their subterranean prison. Natasha pressed on, battling the growing dread. She knew that time was their enemy, each passing moment dwindling their chances of survival.

Suddenly, Goro was beside her, his face grim. "Natasha," he said, his voice low, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Goro's heavy boots crunched on loose rock as he move to a spot. He pointed towards the ceiling, his brow furrowed. "Natasha, the ceiling… they've loosened again. See those cracks? They're getting bigger."

Natasha followed his gaze. Fine lines spiderwebbed across the rock face above, some wider than her fingers. Dust constantly rained down, a gritty reminder of the precariousness of their situation.

"I think it's getting worse," Goro said, his voice low. "I've regained some of my strength again so I can help you escape again like your brother. None of the miners here wants a great doctor like you to die here."

Goro's gaze was earnest. "We can do the same for you, Doctor. We'll clear a path, get you out of here. You can bring back help."

Natasha looked up, her heart sinking. She could see the new cracks snaking across the mine's roof, a network of impending doom. Her hand tightened on a scrap of cloth. "No, Goro," she stated firmly, her voice betraying none of the fear that was clawing at her. "I won't leave. Like you said I'm a doctor, and they need me. We get out together, or not at all."

Before Goro could argue, a loud crack echoed through the mine. A massive chunk of rock detached itself from the ceiling and plummeted downwards, casting a long shadow over them. Goro reacted instantly, his powerful arms moving with surprising speed. He heaved his weight against the falling boulder, his muscles straining as he shattered it into smaller pieces, sending dust and debris flying.

The sound reverberated through the mine, a stark reminder of their precarious situation. They knew, with a chilling certainty, that the mine was becoming increasingly unstable. The cracks in the ceiling seemed to deepen, like wrinkles on the face of a dying giant. It was only a matter of time. Natasha looked at the faces of the miners, the fear she felt mirrored in their eyes. The long wait, the dwindling hope, and now the threat of a total collapse was almost too much.

The near miss left them breathless, a stark reminder of their vulnerability. As the dust settled, they saw it – a new, larger fissure snaking across the ceiling, the rock around it visibly looser. The geomarrow crystals cast an unsettling glow on the precarious tableau. The mountain above them was shifting, restless. Their sanctuary was becoming their tomb.

"The cracks are growing."

"I always thought this would happen but I never wish to happen so soon."

"My family is out there if I don't make it. Who's gonna feed them?"

The initial tremor had been a cruel joke of the earth, sealing them in like insects in amber. Now, their supposed sanctuary, a wider passage further in, was echoing the mine's impending doom. Spiderweb cracks, initially faint lines etched across the damp rock ceiling, had grown into hungry fissures, spitting down pebbles and sand.

Natasha, her brow furrowed with concern, expertly tied a makeshift bandage around a miner's gashed leg. The rough fabric of his trousers was stained crimson, a stark contrast to the grey dust coating everything. "Hold still." she instructed, her voice calm despite the tremor that shook the very ground beneath their feet.

The miner, his face etched with pain and worry, looked up at her. "Doctor, you should go. The chief and the others, they're right. That little passage… it's your only chance." His voice was raspy, each word a small effort. The other miners nodded in agreement, their eyes pleading with her. They appreciated her medical skills, which had been a godsend since the initial collapse, but they also recognized the inherent danger and felt responsible for her safety.

Natasha met their gazes, her blue eyes firm. "My duty is here, with you." Her words were simple, but they carried the weight of her medical oath, a promise she wouldn't break even in the face of crumbling rock. Besides, she couldn't shake the feeling that leaving now, abandoning the injured and the frightened, would haunt her far more than the potential cave-in.

A sharp CRACK ripped through the air, louder and more menacing than before. A chunk of the ceiling, the size of a small cart, plummeted to the ground with a deafening thud, sending a fresh wave of dust billowing through the sanctuary. Panic flared in some eyes, but Goro, a mountain of a man with hands as thick as shovels, roared, "Stay calm! Everyone, stay close to the wall!"

He and a handful of other able-bodied miners were desperately trying to widen the small crevice they'd discovered earlier. It was a narrow, jagged path, barely wide enough for one person to squeeze through at a time, snaking its way seemingly upwards. It was a gamble, a slim chance of escape, but it was all they had.

"Natasha!" Goro bellowed, his voice strained against the cacophony of the collapsing mine. "Help me move the injured closer to this wall! It's the most stable section we have left."

Without hesitation, Natasha was at his side. The wall Goro indicated was where the original passage had collapsed, creating a natural barrier against falling debris, at least for now. The irony wasn't lost on her - the point of no return had become their temporary shield.

Together, with the help of other miners, they carefully carried and supported the injured, maneuvering them around fallen rocks and treacherous crevices. Goro's immense strength was invaluable, easily lifting heavy debris that would have been impossible for others. Natasha focused on stabilizing injuries, offering words of comfort, and ensuring the injured were as protected as possible.

Another section of the ceiling groaned, a long, drawn-out sound that made the hair on the back of Natasha's neck stand on end. Pieces of rock, ranging from pebbles to fist-sized chunks, began to rain down. "Move faster!" Goro yelled, his voice tight with urgency.

Natasha, supporting a miner with a broken arm, felt a sharp sting on her cheek as a small rock grazed her. She ignored it, her focus solely on getting the injured to the relative safety of the wall. The air was thick with dust, making it hard to breathe, and the constant barrage of falling debris was terrifying.

Finally, they had all the injured huddled against the wall, blankets and spare cloths offering a small layer of protection against the dust and falling debris. The narrow path was still not ready, Goro and his team chipping away at the stubborn rock with pickaxes and whatever tools they could find.

Natasha knelt beside a young miner named Tomas, his face pale with shock and pain. She held his hand, her touch gentle but firm. "We'll get through this, Tomas," she said, her voice reassuring despite the chaos around them.

The mine groaned again, louder this time, a deep, visceral sound that spoke of immense pressure and imminent collapse. Large cracks snaked across the ceiling directly above them, widening with alarming speed. Dust showered down, obscuring their vision.

"It's going!" someone screamed, their voice laced with panic.

Goro, his face grimy and streaked with sweat, shouted above the din, "Almost there! Just a little more!"

Natasha looked up at the ceiling, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew they were running out of time. The sanctuary was no longer safe; it was actively turning against them. But she also saw the determination in Goro's eyes, the unwavering resolve of the miners working alongside him.

This was their sanctuary in its final moments, a fragile bubble of hope against the crushing weight of the earth. And Natasha, the doctor who chose to stay, would face whatever came next, alongside the brave souls who called this dark, dangerous place their workplace. The narrow path, their only fragile hope, was their last stand against the implacable force of the collapsing mine.

Time seemed to warp and stretch. Each falling rock was a hammer blow against their dwindling hope. The narrow gap they were working on offered little comfort; it was barely wide enough for a child, let alone a grown man. The air grew thick with dust and despair. The next tremor, they knew, could be the end. The groaning ceiling seemed to agree, its voice growing louder, more insistent.

"No, No," Natasha could only helplessly look up, "Please, someone…"

Her resolves and everything was meaningless if she cannot saved everyone here. Sacrificing herself, the medical tools on her, her knowledge, everything was meaningless now as the end was about to unfold.

"Protect the doctor!" Goro shouted as he used his own body to cover the shock-stricken Natasha who could only gaze up.

Then came the moment they believed was their last. A deafening roar echoed through the mine, different from the constant rumbles, deeper and more final. The ceiling above their heads shuddered violently, and with a terrifying slowness, began to descend. It was as if the very mountain was exhaling, about to swallow them whole. They huddled together, bracing for the inevitable, the weight of the earth about to crush them.

"Someone, please someone help us!" She screamed in despair.

BOOM!*

"Natasha! I'm here!" But then, a sudden surge of light pierced the darkness. From the impossibly small gap in the wall, a figure burst through, a vibrant flash of orange against the gloom. It was Naruto. He came and with the swirling blue made of pure chakra on his hand slammed the falling boulders away. He came in like a wishing star and made her wish come true in no time.

Naruto came like the heroes Natasha always told to the children. Stories of a hero who will come at the right time to vanquish the desperate fate and save everyone.

"No one is dying today!" Before anyone could fully register the shock of his appearance, Naruto was already in motion. His new bright unzipped orange jumpsuit was dusted with grime, but his cerulean eyes shone with an unwavering determination. A swirling blue sphere of energy crackled in his outstretched hand – a Rasengan.

"ARGHHHHH!" With a yell that echoed through the collapsing mine, Naruto slammed the Rasengan into the colossal pile of debris blocking their primary exit, the tunnel they had entered through. The impact was staggering. The air crackled with displaced energy, and the seemingly immovable rocks shattered, pulverized into smaller fragments that rained down around them. A rush of fresh air, thick with dust but undeniablyoutsideair, filled their lungs for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

A collective gasp of astonishment and relief went through the trapped miners. Natasha stared, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten, a disbelieving smile spreading across her face. It was him. The impossible had happened.

"Naruto!" Goro's voice boomed, thick with emotion. Relief washed over his features, erasing the grim lines etched by fear.

Before anyone could say another word, before the full weight of their rescue could even sink in, Naruto had already summoned a shadow clone. Two figures now stood in the flickering lamplight, each with a Rasengan crackling in their palm, pointed towards the remaining, smaller boulders that blocked the now-partially cleared exit path.

"Get ready to move!" The real Naruto shouted, his voice urgent. "This isn't over yet! The cave-in's still happening!"

"Naruto." Natasha rushed towards him, her hands outstretched. He turned, his face breaking into a blinding smile. It was the kind of smile that could cut through the thickest gloom, the kind of smile that promised unwavering protection.

The miners, spurred by a burst of hope that felt almost intoxicating, scrambled to their feet, assisting the injured. The familiar sight of Naruto, the raw power he wielded, was a beacon in their darkest hour. They knew, looking at that determined face, that they had a chance. A real chance. The impossible had arrived, shattering rock and despair in equal measure.

But reality was a cruel mistress. The explosion from the Rasengan, while creating a path, had also further destabilized the mine. A sickening groan echoed through the cavern as the ground beneath their feet began to buckle.

Before Natasha could even reach Naruto, a horrifying groan echoed through the cavern, and then the earth simply gave way. The ground beneath them crumbled, sending them all tumbling into the darkness below - a void where tons of soil and rock had already collapsed. Screams mingled with the sounds of falling debris. Natasha, her heart plummeting faster than her body, found herself surrounded by the terrified faces of her fellow miners. Their lamps, once beacons of hope, were now useless in the crushing dark. The weight of their fear settled on her chest, heavy and suffocating. She had brought Naruto into this, had asked for his help. And now, they were all going to be buried alive. A wave of self-blame washed over her, rendering her numb and helpless.

"Don't underestimate me! I'm not giving up!" Naruto's voice could be heard by everyone despite their situation.

In the chaos, something incredible happened. As Natasha tumbled downwards, limbs flailing, she briefly caught sight of a figure, a flash of orange in the inky blackness. It was Naruto. He wasn't screaming, wasn't panicking. Instead, his hands were moving with lightning speed, forming a familiar sign. Even in the dark, she knew the seal - his index and middle fingers crossed - and a split second after, he shouted, his voice ringing out through the void, "Multi Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

"!"

Then, it was as if the world had been split into a hundred pieces of bright orange. Hundreds of Naruto appeared, identical faces, all mirroring his mid-fall struggle. But these weren't just ordinary clones. They were Naruto's, imbued with his tenacious spirit and the unique power of his chakra. They were all scrambling, using the falling rock debris with amazing agility. Clones, using their chakra, swiftly took to the falling rocks, using them as stepping stones, moving with incredible speed. While some of them carried the terrified miners, gently carrying them and then sticking to the rough cavern walls using their chakra. Natasha watched, mesmerized as they moved with dizzying speed and skill.

Suddenly, a pair of warm, strong arms wrapped around her. She was lifted with surprising gentleness. Looking up, she found herself staring into Naruto's bright blue eyes, a wide, reassuring grin splitting his face. He was carrying her on his back, his chakra radiating warmth and confidence.

"I never go back on my word!" he said, his voice clear and full of unwavering conviction. His grin was infectious, a spark of hope in the all-consuming gloom. The weight of her hopelessness began to lift, replaced by a fragile, flickering ember of belief.

He planted his feet on the cave wall, his chakra clinging to the rock. He began to run upwards, defying gravity. The hundreds of clones followed suit, carrying the miners, their feet a blur of movement against the rock face. They scrambled, clinging, pushing towards the surface.

The miners, still shaken, were amazed. They were hurtling upwards along the walls of a collapsing cave, being carried by clones of a bright-haired savior. It was all too surreal, but one thing was certain, it was better than falling into the abyss.

"Let's go!" Naruto yelled, leading the charge, his voice ringing with unwavering hope and determination. The miners, carried by the clones, followed, their hearts pounding, a spark of belief rekindled within their chests. They would fight, they would endure, they would follow this beacon of light, out of the suffocating darkness and towards the light of day. And they did. They raced upwards, a vibrant stream of orange against the cold grey rock. The miners, still reeling from the shock, could only hold on tight and pray. Natasha, on Naruto's back, felt a surge of something akin to euphoria, mixed with disbelief. How could he be so calm? So capable?

They burst back into the open air, blinking against the sudden light. But the sanctuary they had hoped for was still under threat. Debris continued to fall, the mine entrance a jagged maw threatening to swallow them anew.

Naruto and his clones didn't hesitate. They charged towards the exit, their orange forms a beacon of hope in the chaos.

Natasha clung to Naruto's back, her knuckles white, yet there was a laugh bubbling in her chest. As he weaved through the chaos, scaling a steep path with a single, gravity-defying leap, she couldn't help it. She was having the ride of her life. It was insane, terrifying, and utterly exhilarating. The fear that had been her constant companion had been replaced by pure, unadulterated joy. No one had died. Everyone was safe. Naruto had pulled them from the brink.

She hugged him tightly, her face buried in his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

They reached the mouth of the mine. The steel bridge was gone, reduced to twisted metal, leaving a gaping chasm between them and safety.

"Naruto, no!" Natasha cried out, her fear returning. "The bridge is gone!"

But Naruto just grinned, a wolfish, infectious grin that promised anything was possible. "JUMP!" he roared, his voice cutting through the rumble of falling rocks.

And then, they leaped. Naruto and his clones, each carrying a miner, soared through the air. It was a breathtaking, heart-stopping flight, the chasm yawning beneath them.

They soared. It was a breathtaking, heart-stopping moment. Each clone used their chakra to enhance their jumps, scaling the impossible distance between the mine entrance and the edge of the cliff on the other side. The people who were anxiously waiting there gasped, their eyes wide with disbelief. They had been preparing for the worst, and here they were, witnessing a miracle unfold before them.

One by one, the clones landed safely, each delivering their passenger to solid ground. Naruto landed last, gently setting Natasha on her feet. He was breathing hard, his orange jumpsuit dusty and torn, but his grin remained, as radiant as ever.

They reached the other side, landing gracefully on the cliff's edge, where a crowd of anxious onlookers waited, their faces a mixture of relief and shock.

Looking back at the gaping maw of the mine, they saw the last of the debris fall, the entrance collapsing completely. They had escaped. All of them, thanks to a force of nature called Naruto Uzumaki.

As Natasha slid off Naruto's back, her legs shaky, she looked back at the destroyed mine, at the dust settling in the air. She felt the weight of what had happened.

Natasha, still breathless, threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for saving everyone."

Naruto chuckled, patting her back. "That's what I do," he said, his eyes sparkling with pride. "I never give up." He looked around at the other survivors, their faces a mixture of relief and awe. He knew his work wasn't done.

The relief on the onlookers' faces was palpable. Among them, Natasha spotted her brother, Vache, his face a mixture of relief and self-reproach.

"Natasha!" he cried, his voice thick with emotion.

His sister, bruised and dusty but undeniably alive, launched herself into his arms. He held her tight, his body trembling with relief. "I thought… I thought…" he stammered, the weight of his responsibility for the mine pressing down on him. "It's my fault. I should have…."

Natasha pulled back, her eyes meeting his. She smiled, a genuine smile that reached her eyes. "It's okay, brother. We're all okay. Thanks to him." She gestured towards the mass of dissipating shadow clones, and the single, grinning figure in orange at their center. Naruto, surrounded by grateful miners, gave a cheerful wave.

The adrenaline slowly receded, leaving Naruto drained. He hadn't realized the toll he'd extracted from his body or chakra. Before he could crumble, Natasha's arms caught him. She gently guided him down, his head resting on her lap, her fingers softly stroking his hair. "Just stay like this and recover, okay?" she said, her voice warm with concern and gratitude. "You did amazing."

"No, I can still..." Naruto may look physically fine, but as a doctor, she saw the fatigue and exhaustion in him.

"Rest," she repeated, her voice firm but kind, "And when you're ready, you can tell me everything."

Her words were like a key, unlocking something within him. He had been planning this, waiting for the perfect moment. And now, with the battle over and her close, this felt right. He'd been keeping his feelings locked up, telling himself it wasn't the right time, but now, with Natasha so close and willing to listen… he couldn't hold it in any longer.

Taking a deep breath, he looked up at her, his bright blue eyes locking with hers. "Natasha…" he began, his voice a little shaky, "I... I like you. A lot. And I was wondering... would you, maybe, want to go on a date with me?"

He held his breath, waiting, a hopeful flutter in his chest.

Natasha's smile faltered, replaced by a look of gentle sadness. "Naruto," she started, her fingers still stroking his hair, "You're incredible, truly. But I... I can't accept your feelings."

"W-What? Why?" His heart plummeted. His smile vanished, leaving behind a flicker of shock, his face a comical mix of surprise and confusion.

Natasha continued, "I… I have a goal, a burning desire to become the best doctor I can be. To help everyone. To be a positive change in this world." She gestured around them, encompassing the battlefield, the village, the world they inhabited. "This world is harsh, Naruto. It doesn't make things easy. There isn't much room for dating, for any kind of, well, distraction, if I truly want to focus and achieve my dreams." She looked down at him, her gaze earnest. "I can't be selfish with my time, or my focus. I can't deviate from my path of learning, of striving to be the best I can be for others."

The confession hit Naruto like a ton of bricks. His jaw dropped, his eyes widened into comical saucers, and his expression morphed into one of utter shock. Around them, several of the men and boys who had witnessed the exchange erupted in laughter, their amusement echoing through the air.

Her words were like a cold splash of water. He registered the logic, the dedication, the selflessness behind them. But understanding didn't lessen the sting of rejection.

As if the day couldn't get any worse a cacophony of laughter erupted nearby. It was the loud sound of men and boys, having clearly witnessed the entire exchange. They doubled over, slapping their knees, pointing and snickering, their mockery echoing across the clearing.

Naruto snapped out of his shock, his face turning a furious red. He shot up, his gaze blazing. "Shut up!" he roared, his voice carrying across the field. They quieted, some looking sheepish, others still grinning but no one daring to laugh anymore. He turned back to Natasha, a little calmer, but still embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Naruto," Natasha said again, her voice low, placing a gentle hand on his arm.

He took a deep breath, Naruto shook his head, a small, genuine smile playing at the corner of his lips. "It's… it's okay, Natasha. Really. I'm just glad I got it out there." He had confessed, and that was something. He had taken a chance.

Natasha still didn't move, her expression still holding that sadness. There was something in her gaze, a mixture of respect and a hint of something else he couldn't quite place.

The awkward tension still clung to the air like a stubborn fog. Naruto, feeling the weight of the silence, tried to shift the mood. He cleared his throat.

"You know what's crazy?" he said, his tone brighter than usual. "I finally remember everything! My full name, my past... everything. I'm Naruto Uzumaki. It's… it's kinda mind-blowing."

Natasha's head snapped up, her eyes widening with genuine surprise. A wide smile bloomed on her face, the previous sadness dissipating. "That's wonderful, Naruto! I'm so happy for you!"

He grinned, pleased to see her so genuinely happy. "Yeah. And, you're not gonna believe this… I used to have this dream, a goal too, to become a Hokage, some kind of leader. It's weird to think of it now. I just… I wanted everyone to know I was here."

Natasha's brow furrowed slightly. "Hokage? What is that?"

"It's... a whole story," Naruto chuckled.

"Try me." She smiled with a curious expression.

Naruto chuckled, a small, genuine sound. "It's… well, it's kind of like the leader of my village. It was the greatest goal I could think of. Just like you aspiring to be the best doctor, I wanted to be the best leader. I understand the dedication it takes to pursue something like that." He stretched out, settling on the grass near her, his energy finally ebbing. "You know what? I think that's amazing. Go be the greatest doctor you can be, Natasha. I'll be rooting for you."

He wasn't sure why, but the weariness of the long fight, the emotional outpouring, all seemed to coalesce, overwhelming him with a sudden urge to sleep. He closed his eyes, his head finding its way onto her lap almost instinctively.

Natasha didn't move. She looked down at him, a small, conflicted smile playing on her lips. Naruto's head, with that untamed mop of sun-kissed hair, rested comfortably in her lap. She gently brushed a stray strand away from his forehead, her gaze softening. He was… complicated. Intense, loud, but also kind, and understanding in a way that most people weren't. He had confessed his feelings, accepted her rejection, and now he was sleeping peacefully, his face relaxed.

He had a dream too, she realized. A dream as powerful as hers. She felt a strange warmth bloom in her chest, an unexpected feeling she couldn't explain. She stayed there, letting him rest, the night sky a silent witness to their unexpected connection. The world could wait. For now, she would simply be here, a silent guardian of a sleeping dreamer.

Natasha gently stroked his hair, a soft smile returning to her lips. She wished he could sleep there forever, away from the worry and pain. However, her ears perked; the distinct rhythmic thud of marching boots was drawing closer. The soldiers were finally here, likely looking for the hero.

"…"

"Just a little longer." She knew they would take him soon. Her hand stilled in his hair. For now, she would let Naruto sleep, peacefully and undisturbed on her lap while she cherished their last few moments like she could never more but she wasn't worried about him as he already proof, he could get out of any situation. The approaching footsteps grew ever louder.

And done…

Age:

Naruto: He looks like a 16-year-old meaning Naruto Shippuden age.

Serval: 13

Gephart: 11

Natasha: 18

Oleg: 38

Luka: 7

Seele: 7

We will only mention this one time on who Naruto will interact in the future.

Rappa

Yukong

Jinglui

Feixiao

And no, it's not a harem but a complicated kind of romantic drama in the future.

Abilities

Multi-Shadow clones

Fire manipulation and ignition

Transformation technique (How he hid his fox features.)

Bye!