Charles and Kitty stepped out of the school doors with Hank following close behind. The evacuation of the children was complete. The destroyed defensive turrets triggered an acute anxiety attack in the scientist—all his work, all the protection systems had proven useless.
The group stopped, shocked by the scale of destruction. Sentinel debris covered the ground; sparking wires and smoking metal filled the school yard. In the center of this chaos stood two strangers, surrounded by strange energy, golden and purple.
The Professor gripped the armrests of his wheelchair, staring at the familiar golden glow. A week ago, it had already appeared on the school's security cameras. But now, witnessing this power in person, Xavier realized that their mysterious visitor was far more remarkable than they had assumed.
The ghost-like girl instinctively stepped back, her hand passing through the doorframe.
"What is that...?" whispered Kitty, her gaze fixed on the battlefield.
Then they saw the body, surrounded by other mutants. A familiar visor lay nearby.
"Scott!" cried the young mutant, her voice trembling.
The telepath froze in his wheelchair. His attempt to reach the consciousness of his first student met only emptiness. "No... not him." Charles' whisper was barely audible.
Kitty ran to where her friend might be. The red-haired telepath sat on the ground with Kurt standing beside her. Her gaze reflected complete disorientation.
"Are you okay?" the girl knelt beside Jean.
She slowly raised her head. "I'm... not sure. My whole body aches."
The telepath's gaze wandered across the yard. She looked at the strangers but before she could be surprised, she saw a group of mutants. In the center lay a body. Jean froze. Her face turned pale when she recognized the familiar silhouette.
The red-haired woman stood up, ignoring the pain throughout her body. Friends supported her from both sides as she walked toward her beloved's body. Each step caused pain, but the telepath didn't stop. Her mind refused to accept the reality of what was happening.
As they approached, Logan raised his head; his usually stern eyes reflected pain. Jean looked at him, and the reality of what had happened finally crashed down on her.
Her legs gave way, and she collapsed to her knees beside Scott; a quiet sob escaped her lips.
"No..." whispered the young woman, her hands trembling as she touched his face, still warm. "Darling? Please, wake up..."
But there was no response. His chest remained motionless, his eyes closed. The telepath felt a wave of nausea rising to her throat. She couldn't believe what she was seeing.
"Stop it..." Jean trembled, her voice becoming increasingly desperate. "This isn't funny. Please, open your eyes." She began to shake him—first carefully, then more forcefully. Her movements became chaotic, panicked. "Wake up! You can't do this to me! You promised, remember? You promised we would always be together!"
Reality slowly but inexorably seeped through the wall of denial the red-haired mutant was trying to build. Memories flooded in like a tidal wave: their first meeting in the park, the awkward first kiss, nights in an abandoned house where they shared fears and dreams; his support when her abilities went out of control, his unwavering faith in her.
"You promised," whispered the telepath, her voice trembling with suppressed sobs. "You promised we would face everything together. Don't leave, Scott. Not now. Not like this..."
Jean pressed her beloved's body to herself, and the dam broke. Sobs burst from her chest, shaking her entire body. Screams echoed across the battlefield, piercing and full of inexpressible pain. Everything around ceased to exist; only her inconsolable crying and the endless agony of loss remained.
"Come back to me," the young woman begged through sobs, pressing her face against his chest.
Her mind instinctively reached out to him, trying to find even a glimmer of consciousness, but encountered only emptiness. This void threatened to consume her entirely. The telepath felt something inside beginning to break.
The world around lost all color. Sounds became muffled, as if she were underwater. Jean saw movement around her—other mutants coming closer, their faces expressing shock and grief. But they seemed distant, unreal. The only reality for her was the lifeless body in her arms.
The red-haired woman began rocking back and forth, cradling her beloved like a child. Her whispers became increasingly incoherent:
"Remember our first day at school? You were so clumsy... And our graduation? You promised we would grow old together... We wanted children, remember? A little girl with your eyes..."
Each memory was like a knife to the heart. The telepath felt physical pain in her chest, as if someone had torn out part of her soul. Each breath was difficult, accompanied by sharp pain.
Suddenly she felt a surge of rage. Jean's eyes flashed, and small stones and debris around her began to rise into the air.
"How could you leave me?!" she screamed; her voice full of anger and pain. "You're selfish, Scott Summers! You're a coward!"
Objects around spun faster, forming a small vortex. The other mutants stepped back, fearing an outburst of her power. But the young woman didn't care. Her world had narrowed to this moment, to the body of her beloved in her arms.
And just as suddenly as it started, the storm ceased. Everything fell to the ground, and the telepath went limp, like a marionette with cut strings. Her voice became quiet, almost childlike:
"Please, come back. I'll do anything. I'll give up my powers, my life—just come back to me."
Jean pressed her lips to his forehead, cheeks, lips, as if believing a simple kiss could bring him back to life. But nothing changed. Scott remained motionless and cold.
The red-haired mutant raised her head. The eyes of those around her blurred with tears. Their mouths moved, but she heard no sounds. It seemed as though she was watching what was happening through a layer of water; this world had become empty and alien to her.
The leader of the X-Men was dead. The telepath understood this. Part of herself had died with him. She lay on the cold ground, clutching his body tightly and not knowing what to do next. All she wanted now was for the pain to stop.
Jean's grief, like a wave, washed over the field. Her scream subsided, and an oppressive silence fell, making ears ring.
Naruto stood at a distance, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. The shinobi's gaze was fixed on Scott's motionless body, and the blood darkening on the grass around him brought back memories of a world destroyed by war, of the bodies of those he couldn't save.
"I... failed to protect someone again?" The thought burned through the young man's mind. If he had stayed at the mansion that night... Naruto bit his lip until it bled, trying to hold back approaching tears. His gaze met that of a young mutant—a boy no older than fifteen, looking at him with silent hope.
Uchiha observed his friend. He had seen this look countless times—in Konoha, during the war, and now here, in another world. The look of someone who had lost everything dear to him. If nothing was done now, Naruto would simply break.
"You never change," thought Sasuke, making his decision. Using Rinne Tensei might frighten the mutants, especially after they had already shown their power in battle with the Sentinels. But there was no choice—his friend needed these new connections; they made him who he was.
Uchiha approached his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Naruto..." he said quietly. "I can fix this."
The blond turned sharply, his wet eyes widening with understanding.
"You mean..." his voice trembled. "But Nagato..."
"Pain resurrected tens of thousands," Sasuke interrupted. "Here we're talking about one life."
The Rinnegan user activated it, feeling chakra concentrating in his left eye. He knew the limits of the technique not through knowledge but through feeling—similar to how a fencer feels the length of a blade. Resurrecting one soul wouldn't kill him.
"Are you sure?" asked Naruto, his voice gaining steel notes.
The corner of Sasuke's mouth twitched in a semblance of a smile.
"Don't underestimate me."
The ground trembled as the shinobi began forming hand seals. With each movement of his fingers, the air became heavier, saturated with invisible energy. Stones rose into the air, his cloak billowed though there was no wind.
The mutants exchanged anxious glances, but no one dared intervene—something in the confident movements of the dark-haired young man and the determined gaze of his friend kept them from panicking.
"Geddo... Rinne... Tensei!"
For a moment, the world froze in absolute silence. And then the earth shuddered, and the air tore open, forming a purple portal. From it emerged a huge demonic head, causing a wave of terror among those present. But in this horror glimmered hope—hope that death would not be the end.
The X-Men's reaction was instantaneous. Logan extended his claws, his nostrils flaring as he caught the strange scent of the portal—a mixture of ozone, sulfur, and something unearthly. Kurt stepped back, his tail twitching nervously, his eyes burning bright gold. Hank froze, his powerful body tense, and his analytical mind seemingly refused to understand what was happening.
The Professor leaned forward in his wheelchair, his face contorted with tension. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his hands whitened on the armrests.
"What... what is this?" Xavier's voice trembled, having lost its usual calm.
"Don't be afraid," Naruto said hoarsely. "Sasuke is going to bring Scott back to life."
These words hung in the air. The mutants froze, their faces expressing a mixture of disbelief, fear, and a glimmer of hope.
"Bring... back to life?" whispered the red-haired telepath, still clutching her beloved's body.
A green beam emanating from the King of Hell's mouth touched the body. The gaping wound in Scott's stomach began to close. There was a characteristic hissing, and light smoke rose above the regenerating flesh. Tissues fused before their eyes—skin, muscles, and internal organs restored as if time were going backward, until nothing remained of the terrible wound but clean, undamaged skin.
A glowing ball flew out of the demon entity's open mouth—the soul of the X-Men's leader. Jean shuddered, her eyes widening. She could feel this soul not only with her sight but also with her telepathy—Scott's pure essence, everything that made him himself, hovering before her. Her hands involuntarily reached toward the glowing silhouette, but she restrained herself, afraid of frightening away this fragile miracle.
The soul pulsated and expanded, gradually taking on the outlines of a human figure. The ghostly silhouette moved slowly, as if overcoming invisible resistance.
The telepath froze, her lips moving silently.
"Scott?" she whispered.
Wolverine stood motionless, his enhanced senses detecting something inexplicable—not a smell, not a sound, but the very presence of his friend's soul. Something primordial inside him responded to this sight, reminiscent of those moments between life and death that he himself had experienced countless times.
Beast struggled to control his trembling, his scientific mind desperately trying to explain what was happening. "Bioluminescence? Quantum superposition?" muttered Hank, but fell silent when the soul took on recognizable outlines. At that moment, all his scientific theories gave way to a simple, incredible truth—he was seeing his friend's soul.
Nightcrawler slowly knelt, his tail motionless. The rosary in his hands moved on its own as he watched the glowing figure. "Die Seele," Kurt whispered reverently, "The soul... pure, as in scripture." Years of faith had not prepared him for the moment when he would see with his own eyes confirmation of everything he believed in.
Kitty involuntarily extended her hand, as if trying to touch the luminous substance, but immediately pulled it back. "Is it really him?" whispered the young mutant, her voice trembling.
The ghostly figure stopped and turned to her. A barely noticeable smile appeared on Scott's face.
"Jean..." he whispered in a voice like the rustling of wind.
Then the ghost leaned over his body, and the glowing ball slowly descended into his chest. For a moment, absolute silence reigned. The X-Men leader's chest trembled, and he took a deep, convulsive breath.
The red-haired telepath couldn't take her eyes away. When Scott's eyelids flickered, she made a sound that resembled both a sob and a laugh. She held him tighter, her body shaking with sobs—now from relief and joy.
Jean suddenly realized the danger of the situation. Without wasting a second, she activated her telekinesis. The visor flew into the air and gently settled on her beloved's face, fitting exactly into place. Making sure it was securely fastened, she looked at him again.
"Scott!" The young woman covered his face with kisses, ignoring the flowing tears. "You're here, you're really here. I thought... I thought I'd lost you forever."
The resurrected mutant slowly opened his eyes under the visor, his gaze foggy.
"Jean?" he said hoarsely.
"Yes, yes, it's me. I'm here. We're all here." The telepath looked around at the other mutants, frozen in stupor. "I love you. Please, never leave me again."
Scott weakly squeezed her hand.
"I promise, only... I don't understand what happened."
Jean pressed her forehead against his, enjoying the warmth of his breath on her skin.
Xavier wheeled closer, his restraint gone.
"Incredible," muttered the professor, touching his first student's shoulder. Feeling warmth beneath his palm, he couldn't hold back tears. "My boy, you've returned to us."
Logan knelt nearby, his stern face softening.
"Hey, Cyclops, don't scare us like that again, you hear?"
Bobby and Colossus, standing shoulder to shoulder, synchronously dropped their defensive forms—ice and steel flowed from their bodies, revealing human skin. They were the first generation of students after Scott, and now, looking at their mentor, both felt the return of that childlike faith in their leader's indestructibility. "God," exhaled Drake, while the Russian quietly whispered a prayer, crossing himself.
The telepath paused in his wheelchair, his hand trembling on the armrest. First student, first X-Man—how many times had Charles seen a reflection of his own youth in this stubborn boy? Every training session, every heart-to-heart talk, every moment when the young leader overcame his fears—all this flashed through the professor's memory. "My boy," he whispered, and in these words was all the fatherly love he could never express aloud.
The shinobi noticed how his clone stood next to Rogue, who looked with surprise at their touching hands. The shadow clone smiled at her, and Naruto felt warmth spreading inside.
Uchiha slowly lowered his hands, completing the technique. The portal closed, the demonic head disappearing in a purple glow. Sasuke staggered, and his friend was instantly beside him, supporting him.
"You did it," whispered Naruto.
The red-haired telepath raised her eyes to them, her face shining with gratitude.
"Thank you," whispered Jean. "Thank you both."
The blond nodded, looking at the mutants surrounding them. In their eyes, he saw not fear of strangers, but hope.
The young mutant sat on the ground, stunned not so much by the leader's resurrection as by what she was feeling right now.
Warmth. Touch.
Slowly lowering her gaze, Rogue saw the clone's hand holding her own—without a glove, without any barriers. She froze, waiting for the familiar sensation of absorbing someone else's life force. But nothing happened.
Seconds stretched on. Naruto stood nearby, his attention fixed on Scott regaining consciousness. And the girl felt every detail of this simple touch—the texture of the skin, the warmth of the palm, sensations she had been deprived of for many years.
"How is this possible?" pulsed in her head.
Around them, people rejoiced at the return of their leader, but Rogue's world narrowed to this single moment of contact. She raised her eyes and met the gaze of Naruto's clone. His light smile, simple and sincere, seemed to say: "It's okay. This is real."
The mutant took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions. A spark of hope, buried many years ago, flared in her chest, burning brighter. She squeezed the clone's hand, afraid that if she let go—this miracle would disappear. Tears streamed down her cheeks—whether from joy or fear of the unknown.
The Professor noticed their joined hands, and his eyes widened. Years of working with the young mutant, all her problems with controlling her abilities flashed through his memory. Xavier intensely observed what was happening, expecting to see familiar signs of her powers activating. But nothing happened.
Something had changed, and this required explanations. But now, looking at his student's face, illuminated with hope, the telepath understood—all questions could wait.
The echo of the miracle still rang in the air when the dark-haired shinobi detected a change. Ground vibration, slight air fluctuation—and the massive figure of a Sentinel appeared behind his back.
The quiet hum of servomotors broke the silence. The robot's arm transformed, metal restructuring itself into a white-hot blade. It darted toward the back of Uchiha's head with lightning speed.
Logan lunged forward, extending his claws. Jean tried to create a telekinetic shield, but her powers were depleted. They understood—they wouldn't make it in time.
Without turning his head, Sasuke activated Susanoo. Purple energy streamed around his body, forming first ribs, then arms. The spectral limb intercepted the machine's blade a few centimeters from the shinobi's neck. A deafening clang rang out, sparks flew in all directions, leaving smoking trails on the grass.
In the next moment, the full skeletal form of Susanoo materialized around Uchiha. The huge purple warrior towered above the ground, its eye sockets burning with an ominous light. With one movement, it grabbed the robot and tore it in half as if it were made of paper. The debris crashed to the ground with a thunderous sound.
The mutants froze. Scott, just returned to life, watched what was happening with wide eyes. Rogue involuntarily stepped back, her face pale. Even Wolverine seemed impressed, though he tried to hide it behind his usual mask of distrust.
From the forest, breaking trees, appeared a dozen Sentinels. Their red eyes glowed threateningly, scanning the area.
Naruto stepped forward, exchanging glances with his friend.
"I'll handle this."
Closing his eyes, the shinobi immersed himself in concentration. Kurama's chakra flowed through his body, and black spheres—Truth-Seeking Balls—appeared behind his back. One of them floated to his outstretched hand, where the young man began forming a Rasenshuriken. The energy of the tailed beast's bomb mixed with wind chakra, creating an incredibly powerful technique. The Truth-Seeking Ball dissolved into it, enhancing its destructive potential.
"Sasuke, gather them together."
From the corner of his eye, the blond noticed something in the sky. "So they're watching us," flashed through his mind.
Uchiha directed his hand at the central robot. Under the power of the Rinnegan, the other machines began to be drawn toward it—their metal bodies screeched and creaked, resisting the invisible force, latching onto each other with limbs and armor elements.
He raised his hand with the Rasenshuriken. The air around the technique visibly distorted from the concentration of energy.
"Take this, you lousy metal junk!" he hurled the glowing ball at the cluster of robots.
The technique flew through the air, leaving a trail of pure energy. The Sentinels, caught in its power, flew more than two hundred meters. Time seemed to slow. In the distance, a bright light flashed, and the Rasenshuriken expanded into a gigantic sphere of pure energy.
The explosion was like the rising of a second sun. The earth shuddered, the air filled with a deafening roar. The shinobi instantly recognized the danger to the school.
"Doton: Doryuheki!" his hands formed a seal, and a massive wall of solid rock rose before the building, meeting the shock wave.
When the light dimmed and the dust settled, everyone saw a huge crater extending as far as the eye could see. In the center, nothing remained—not even the tiniest particles of metal. All matter had been completely destroyed.
The X-Men stood, stunned by what they had witnessed. They shifted their gaze from the crater to the earthen wall that had protected them, realizing the scale of the power they had witnessed.
Charles was the first to break the silence. His usually confident voice trembled slightly:
"Naruto, Sasuke... It seems we really need to have a serious talk."
One day later
The jinchuriki sat on the living room floor, his back pressed against the oak table. The young shinobi felt sweat running down his back—the result of tension and anxiety before the upcoming conversation.
The blond recalled a recent argument with his friend in the hallway. Sasuke's voice sounded harsh and resolute: "If they don't accept us after learning the truth—we leave." He clenched his fists until it hurt. The thought of leaving made him nauseous. In these weeks, the school had become a real home for him—here were evening training sessions with Scott, when they played basketball for hours, competing in jumps and throws; quiet moments in the library, where he secretly observed Rogue bent over a book; the smell of old wood in the corridors, the creaking of floorboards, and the ringing laughter of young mutants in the yard.
"We're not going anywhere!" his voice sounded louder than he expected.
Uchiha just smirked: "Still as stubborn as ever."
"And you're a pessimist-ttebayo!" snapped the blond, trying to hide the tremor in his voice.
Sasuke stood nearby, leaning on the leather armrest of the sofa. The Sharingan glowed in the half-light, keeping the others in genjutsu. Naruto refused to be in the illusion; his own painful memories were enough.
The young mutant sat in an armchair, her gloved hands tightly gripping the armrests. The shinobi remembered touching her skin during the battle—cool and soft. Remembered how Rogue's eyes widened in surprise, how her lips trembled.
When the Sharingan faded, heavy silence filled the room. Naruto saw how the mutants slowly came to their senses, trying to comprehend what they had seen in the illusion. Their faces reflected a mixture of horror and disbelief—they had seen a world where gigantic creatures could reduce mountains to dust with a single blow, where the dead rose to fight against the living.
Kitty sat on the floor, her hands trembling. Bobby next to her was breathing heavily, his face pale. Even Logan, who had seen much in his long life, stood motionless. Jean tightly clutched Scott's hand, as if seeking support.
Naruto's gaze returned to Rogue. The young woman sat frozen in the chair, her eyes wide open. He noticed how her gloved fingers trembled—the images of war where teenagers fought to the death had clearly shocked her. The blond remembered the warmth of her hand during the battle, and something tightened in his chest.
Beast removed his glasses, wiping them with trembling fingers. Even Hank's scientific mind seemed unable to fully comprehend the scale of what he had seen—beings with the power to change the landscape of continents.
The Professor was silent for a long time before speaking. His voice sounded unusually hoarse:
"We all need time to process this."
Naruto felt a chill inside. He looked at Rogue again—her gaze reflected his own fear of possible alienation.
Uchiha stood nearby, outwardly calm, but his friend saw the tension in his shoulders. Now that the truth about their world had been revealed, they could only wait for the X-Men's decision.
The mutants silently left the room, heading to the conference hall. The sound of their footsteps gradually faded in the corridor.
A heavy silence hung over the hall. Charles scanned his students and placed his hands on the armrests of his wheelchair.
"So, let's discuss the elephant in the room. Naruto and Sasuke."
Wolverine lit a cigar, releasing a cloud of smoke.
"Elephant? More like a damn nuclear bomb. Did you see what those beings from their world are capable of?"
"Logan," the red-haired telepath said warningly.
"No, let him speak," the team leader interrupted. "We're all thinking it. They're not mutants, that's obvious."
Hank removed his glasses.
"From a scientific standpoint, their abilities violate all known laws of physics. Energy of that magnitude..."
"To hell with physics!" Logan abruptly stood up. "They tossed those Sentinels around like toy figures. They could have destroyed us all if they wanted to."
"But they didn't," Rogue said. Her voice trembled. "They saved us. They saved Scott."
Everyone looked at Cyclops. He slowly ran his hand over his chest where the fatal wound had been.
"I..." his voice became hoarse. "When Sasuke brought me back, I felt his power. It was like touching something ancient. Frightening. But there was no malice in that power."
Jean squeezed his hand.
"Rogue is right," said Charles. "Power is a tool. What matters is how it's used."
"Great, Chuck," Wolverine grumbled. "And what if they decide to use it against humans?"
"We can't judge them by our standards," Nightcrawler interjected. "They're from another world."
"That's exactly what concerns me," said Beast. "We don't know their motives, their morals."
Rogue slowly rose.
"Aren't we dangerous too?" Steel rang in her voice. "Couldn't each of us destroy a city if we lost control? How are we any better?"
Silence blanketed the room. Each remembered moments when their powers had spiraled out of control.
"Rogue has raised an important point," the professor said. "But there's a more pressing issue now. Our location has been compromised."
"We need to relocate," said Cyclops.
"And abandon the school?" the telepath objected.
"A home can always be rebuilt, but lives..." Logan broke off, casting a quick glance at Scott, and irritably bit down on his cigar. "Damn. Okay, bad example."
The X-Men leader smiled weakly but remained silent.
Colossus stepped forward.
"The students have nowhere else to go."
"That's why we must act now," the team leader insisted. "While we have the advantage of two ninjas."
"Advantage?" Wolverine smirked. "Or walking target?"
Professor Xavier thoughtfully rubbed his temples.
"There's another aspect. Their own world is also in danger."
"And what are you suggesting?" asked the same gruff voice. "Send them home?"
"We can't keep them here against their will," Rogue said quietly, looking away.
"But we can allow our world to be threatened?" Bobby objected.
"Enough," the professor firmly interrupted the argument. "We can help them return home. Through Ulyana."
"Are you sure that's safe?" Hank frowned, his voice sounding muffled.
"Safety is a relative concept in our situation."
"And the government?" the psionic clarified. "After something like this, they won't leave us alone."
"Strengthen defenses, prepare an evacuation plan," the team leader began listing.
"And pray these two don't get tired of us?" Logan snorted, pressing his lips together.
Rogue stood up abruptly, feeling her heart beating. The memory of Naruto's touch flashed in her mind—the first touch in many years that hadn't brought pain. She remembered the warmth of his hand, the healing power flowing through her skin. In that moment, she had felt his essence—bright, alive, full of determination to protect others.
"You're talking about them like they're weapons!" Her voice trembled with barely contained emotions. "But I felt the power when he healed my hand. There was nothing in it but the desire to help. Not a drop of malice or destructive thirst. Just... warmth."
"We saw Sasuke return a soul to a body," said Kurt, rising from his seat. His tail twitched nervously. "Such power..." He clutched the rosary in his hand. "Scripture says: 'By their fruits you shall know them.' Isn't that what this is about? They could have destroyed us all, but instead they healed and protected. God doesn't give power without reason."
Wolverine snorted, barely containing his irritation:
"You're seriously bringing religion into this, elf?"
"Why not?" Jean said quietly. "Kurt is right. We're judging them based only on fear. But isn't that how humans judge us?"
Xavier looked at the girl intently.
"That's right, we mustn't forget about humanity. Especially now."
"Maybe you're right, Chuck," Logan sighed. "But that doesn't eliminate the danger."
"Then let's use our time wisely," the team leader suggested. "Prepare for the worst, hope for the best."
The professor surveyed everyone present.
"Good. Let's get to work."
The final words echoed in the empty room. The X-Men slowly dispersed, but tension still lingered in the air. Scott paused at the door, casting a last glance at the professor, who wearily rubbed his temples. Jean gently touched his shoulder, and they left together, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
As soon as the door closed behind the last of the X-Men, the two ninjas, hidden in the shadows of the conference hall, silently left the room.
They sat on the school's roof. The cold wind ruffled their hair, and below them the recent battle had left its marks—deep furrows and craters in the earth. The Sentinel debris had already been cleared away, but the scars remained.
"You heard them," Uchiha's voice sounded hollow. "They're afraid of us. We need to leave."
The jinchuriki clenched his fists. Old memories flashed before his eyes—empty swings, whispers behind his back, the cold stares of Konoha's residents.
"No. I don't want to be the one everyone fears again."
"You're naive," his friend replied without turning around. "This world isn't ours. We'll always be outsiders here."
"Weren't we the same at home?" Bitterness seeped through his voice. "I thought if we told the truth, something would change."
"Understand, to them we're weapons of mass destruction. They'll never accept us."
The shinobi turned sharply to his friend.
"I'll prove them wrong."
"How?" Sasuke smirked. "Will you smile until they believe?"
"If that's what it takes." Naruto lowered his head. "I don't want to be alone again."
Uchiha was silent for a long time.
"You're not alone, idiot."
"I know," the jinchuriki smiled weakly. "But that's not enough. We need their trust."
"You want too much."
"Maybe."
Sasuke looked away, staring at the dark craters below.
"Fine. But at the first sign of danger, we leave. No arguments."
The blond nodded, relief flickering in his eyes.
"Thank you."
They sat in silence until the sky began to lighten in the east. Then they descended quietly, leaving behind unspoken words and unexpressed fears.
The next day they walked down the school corridor. Students around them whispered, casting wary glances and falling silent when they passed by. Naruto's gait showed an uncharacteristic tension, while Uchiha maintained his usual restraint.
Passing a group of students, the jinchuriki caught fragments of conversation:
"...I heard how he demolished those Sentinels? Like it was nothing..."
"And his friend... They say he brought Cyclops back from the dead."
The young man's fists clenched. From the corner of his eye, he noticed several girls looking at his companion with interest, and mentally cursed—even here, Sasuke remained the center of attention.
Around the corner, they ran into Jean. A shadow of wariness flashed in her gaze, but she quickly composed herself.
"The professor is waiting for you," she said in an even voice.
The jinchuriki exchanged glances with his friend. They silently nodded and followed her, preparing for an important conversation.
All senior team members had gathered in the office. Jean and Scott stood next to Xavier, Wolverine paused by the window with crossed arms. The mutant girl leaned against a bookshelf, her eyes fixed on the two visitors. Colossus and Kurt kept their distance.
"What you did... That's more than heroism," the professor began. "You saved not just the school, but a home for many. Thank you."
"It's nothing," Naruto scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "Sasuke and I couldn't just stand by when people were in danger."
The mutants exchanged glances, trying to reconcile the image of powerful aliens with this simple-hearted guy. The same warrior who had destroyed an army of Sentinels an hour ago now stood embarrassed, scratching his head like an ordinary teenager. His eyes lacked the cold power they had seen during the battle—there was only sincerity and a desire to help.
Uchiha, in contrast, maintained an inscrutable expression. In him, power and personality aligned perfectly—the same cold gaze, the same reserved posture of a warrior ready for battle. He was exactly as they had imagined him after seeing him in combat—dangerous, composed, unpredictable. But his friend... it seemed almost impossible that this smiling young man could summon such destructive might.
"Your help is invaluable," the professor continued, "but now our location has been exposed. This puts everyone living here at risk."
"What happens now?" the jinchuriki's voice sounded tense.
"We've decided to relocate," Xavier replied. "It will take time: we need to prepare a new location, move equipment, ensure the students' safety."
"I understand."
"That's precisely why I wanted to speak with you. We'll need your help."
"You can count on us! Sasuke and I will guard the school! No one will harm the students!"
The professor nodded, but his gaze became more serious.
"Besides protection, I wanted to inform you about Ulyana."
Uchiha noticeably tensed, and his companion straightened abruptly.
"You found her?!"
"Not yet," the professor shook his head. "But I'm doing everything possible. The search remains a priority."
"Thank you, Xavier-sensei," Naruto smiled warmly.
His partner nodded briefly without raising his eyes. The jinchuriki cast a concerned glance at his friend, sensing something was wrong, but remained silent.
After the conversation, Uchiha headed to the library. He spent the next few hours on a laptop, methodically studying news feeds, historical chronicles, and scientific articles. The day slowly faded outside the window.
The shinobi, anticipating another sleepless night, tried to occupy himself. He walked around the mansion, checked the training room, tried to meditate using Jiraiya's technique. Nothing helped—his anxiety grew as darkness approached.
When the last inhabitants of Xavier's school retired to their rooms, the jinchuriki went outside. He sat on a bench near the lawn, ignoring the piercing autumn wind. His gaze was fixed on the moon.
Time dragged painfully slowly. Whenever he closed his eyes, nightmares immediately filled his consciousness. The shinobi sat almost motionless, only occasionally changing position due to stiff muscles. The only thing he waited for was the first rays of sunlight. Only in daylight could he allow himself to sleep without fear of intrusive visions.
Naruto exhaled, watching his breath turn to vapor in the cold air. Closing his eyes, he immersed himself in meditation to speak with the Bijuu.
"Kurama..." he called quietly. "Have you ever wondered how much we could change everything here?"
The enormous fox stirred in the half-darkness:
"I have, kid. And the more I think about it, the less I like it."
The shinobi opened his eyes, surprise flashing across his face.
"Why? We're helping them."
"Helping? Or making them dependent on power they don't understand?" Kurama paused. "With each passing day, our chances of returning fade. Meanwhile, we're changing the balance of power in a world that doesn't belong to us."
He stood up abruptly, unable to contain his emotions.
"But we can't just sit idle!" He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. "If we have the power to help..."
"And who will you help in the end?" the fox interrupted, his voice sharp. "Mutants? Humans? Who decides whose side we're on? For the first time in thousands of years... I truly don't know what awaits us."
The shinobi raised his head, looking at the stars, barely visible through the city's light pollution.
"Are you afraid?"
"Fear is too human an emotion," the fox replied bitterly. "I'm... concerned. This world might change us more than we change it."
Kurama was silent before asking the main question:
"What if we're too late? What will you do if you return to a world where no one is left?"
The shinobi was silent for a long time, his eyes full of unspoken pain.
"I still have to return. For the tailed beasts. I promised you freedom, and if..." his voice faltered, "if none of the people remain, I'll keep my promise to you."
The fox froze in surprise.
"You're ready to return to an empty world for us?"
"Because it's the right thing to do," Naruto answered quietly. "And because you're my family too."
"Don't get sappy," Kurama grumbled, but there was warmth in his voice. "We still have to survive this damn world before we can return." He paused. "Remember this conversation. It may give you strength in the darkest moments."
The night air was cool. He sat on the bench, watching the moonlight spreading across the school lawn. Almost all the windows in the building were dark, with light still burning in only a few.
In one of the rooms, a girl lay awake. Her recently restored arm still ached. She mechanically clenched and unclenched her fingers, checking mobility. The memories of the Sentinel attack were too fresh: the glint of the blade, the moment her limb was severed, the shock of seeing her hand on the ground.
She ran her fingers over the spot where he had held her hand during the healing. A strange sensation—for the first time in a long while, a touch hadn't triggered her usual fear of absorbing someone else's power.
Images from Uchiha's illusion played in her mind: another world, ancient beings, young warriors wearing headbands, Madara. The eternal illusion plan seemed tempting—a chance to forget everything and start anew, in a world where she could freely touch people.
She had tried all known methods to fall asleep: counting sheep, trying to read, even playing music through headphones. Nothing helped. Each time she closed her eyes, she saw the same images: the blade's gleam, the moment of impact, her severed hand.
At some point, the girl realized she could no longer remain in the room. She couldn't breathe, and her own thoughts were cornering her. A walk seemed the only sensible solution—perhaps fresh air would help clear her mind.
Slowly rising from bed, she pulled on jeans and a warm hoodie. Her movements were mechanical, perfected over years—at Xavier's school, she had often gone for night walks when anxiety became unbearable.
Trying to make no noise, the girl descended the main staircase and exited through a side door. The cool air somewhat cleared her head. Walking across the dew-dampened grass, she noticed a familiar silhouette on the bench. Uzumaki sat motionless, gazing at the moon.
She hesitated—whether to leave or approach. Something in his tense posture betrayed the same loneliness she felt herself.
"Hi," she said quietly, approaching.
The shinobi turned his head slightly, and his blue eyes glinted in the darkness. A smile lit up his face as soon as he recognized who had approached.
"Ah, Rogue-chan? Hello!" His voice carried genuine warmth, despite the night's chill.
She shifted her weight, hands tucked into her jacket pockets.
"Mind if I sit?" she asked, feeling a tremor run through her body—either from cold or from nerves.
"Of course, sit down. I'm always happy for company." He moved over, making room on the bench.
Rogue sat, wrapping her arms around herself. Her gaze lingered on his thin jacket, and she was surprised by his immunity to the cold.
"Aren't you cold?"
"Not at all," he replied carelessly, as if cold were something insignificant to him.
Silence enveloped them, broken only by the rustle of leaves in the wind. The girl nervously fingered the edge of her glove, gathering her thoughts. Finally, mustering courage, she said:
"Thank you for saving..." Her voice faltered, and she couldn't finish the sentence.
The young man turned to her, his face becoming serious.
"No need... I did it because you're my friends."
She flinched at hearing this and lowered her gaze to her gloved hands; her shoulders tensed.
"Friends..." she repeated slowly. "How can you so easily call us friends? We barely know each other."
"Sometimes it doesn't take much time to understand who your friend is," he said quietly but firmly.
"Even if that friend is dangerous?" she whispered, her voice full of pain and doubt.
"Especially if that friend considers themselves dangerous."
She squeezed her hands, her gaze shifting between the moon and his face, as if seeking strength for a decisive step. Taking a deep breath, she momentarily closed her eyes, as if making an important decision.
When the girl opened her eyes again, they reflected determination mixed with fear. Slowly she reached for her right hand. With visible effort, as if removing not just a piece of clothing but a part of herself, she pulled off her glove.
Taking a deep breath, she finally said:
"My touch can put someone in a coma or even kill them." Her voice was barely louder than a whisper, and her eyes still avoided the young man's gaze.
The shinobi stared at her face for a long time, then shifted his gaze to her bare hand. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if trying to solve a complex puzzle.
"How long have you lived with this?" he asked quietly.
She didn't answer, either unwilling or unable to continue the conversation on this topic. He quickly understood that no answer would be forthcoming and didn't press the painful subject.
The girl was silent, her gaze fixed on the darkness of night. She took a deep breath, and her eyes glistened in the moonlight.
"When you restored my arm," she began in a trembling voice, "you didn't let go. Even when I felt life returning to my fingers, you still held on. And nothing happened." She fell silent, swallowing the lump in her throat. "My cursed power... it just vanished as if it had never existed."
She raised her eyes to him, fear and hope mingling in her gaze.
"I thought maybe it was your clone or some trick. But now..." Her voice broke, and she couldn't finish the sentence, afraid to believe in the impossible.
Not letting her finish, he abruptly grabbed her bare hand. She flinched with her whole body, her eyes widening in horror.
"What are you... Let go!" She tried to pull away, even using force, but he held her hand firmly.
"See?" he said calmly, not taking his eyes off her. "Nothing's happening."
She stared at their joined hands, not believing her eyes.
"How... how is this possible?" she whispered.
The young man frowned thoughtfully.
"You know, I feel something strange. It's like your aura is trying to break through my chakra but can't."
"Aura? Chakra?" the girl tried to understand his words, her brows drawing together.
"Hmm, how to explain this..." the young shinobi pondered for a moment. "Got it! My chakra is like a strong shield. Your aura tries to penetrate and take my power, but it can't. It just slides over the surface. That's why you can't take my energy." The blond smiled and looked at her.
"But why? Why you specifically?" Rogue's voice mixed hope and doubt.
"I think it applies to any chakra. With Sasuke, I'm sure it would be the same," the jinchuriki replied.
"And... what does that mean?" she held her breath, afraid to believe his words.
"It means your touch won't harm me. And, I think, anyone who possesses chakra," Naruto explained.
The girl's eyes filled with tears.
"I... I don't know what to say..." Her voice trembled with overwhelming emotions.
"You don't need to say anything," the young man gently replied. "Just know that I'm here. And your power isn't dangerous to me."
Rogue slowly squeezed his hand, her fingers trembling, but not from cold. Twelve years. Twelve long, agonizing years she had lived in a cage of her own body, afraid of any touch. Every accidental contact could end in tragedy. She had forgotten what it was like to feel another person's warmth without fear and pain.
Tears welled in the mutant's eyes as she realized how significant this moment was. Years of loneliness and alienation, endless nights spent in tears, dreams of a simple embrace—it all flooded over her.
She squeezed the shinobi's hand tighter, as if afraid this was just a dream that would soon dissipate.
"Thank you... for not being afraid of me," whispered the girl, her voice trembling with overwhelming emotions.
In that moment, Rogue felt not only the warmth of Naruto's hand but also the warmth of hope, which had seemed lost from her life forever.