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Following the Third Shinobi War, some villages were better off than others. Despite its heavy losses, enough time had passed that the Stone was functional again. The Cloud never stopped preparing for another war since, flagrantly ignoring all treaties and spitting on the idea of peace. Consumed by its bloodthirst, the Mist descended into civil war not too long afterwards; while the Leaf, the so-called winners of the war, had never been weaker.
A lot could be said about the Great Five, but they were not equal. Baki could only watch as the Wind Daimyo cut the Sand's funding, outsourcing any lucrative missions to the Leaf. For all its peace-loving reputation, the Leaf was just as insidious as the Cloud and Stone because any chance of the Sand's recovery left with the cut in funding for the village's divisions.
And with the fall in shinobi quality came a steady but inevitable decline in mission requests.
Even after the Fourth Hokage's death, nothing changed. And while the Leaf slowly recovered from the tragedy of a Tailed Beast's rampage using the funding of two Daimyo, the Sand dwindled under the wrath of multiple Tailed Beast rampages and a lack of financial aid. Anything to the contrary was unbefitting of an ally, or so the Wind Daimyo had said.
Fitting then that the Leaf's demise would be wrought by a Tailed Beast once again. Poetic as that was, Baki wasn't under the illusion that it'd be easy. He watched the tournament matches with a mounting sense of worry as Gaara's opponent in Naruto Uzumaki became clear. Those years of extra funding were more than obvious for all to see.
The Leaf's genin were strong, each of them possessing ample resources to develop their skills—and that was why Baki could not afford to fall here. His first priority was buying as much time as possible for Gaara to recover. If they could show to their Daimyo and the world beyond that the Leaf was fallible, languishing in poverty would be nothing but a distant nightmare.
Baki cast his gaze to the stands.
Dust and smoke hung in the air like a suffocating veil, the chaos of the invasion drowning out all other sounds. Before him, the tournament's proctor Genma Shiranui shifted into a loose stance, a senbon glinting between his teeth, but the man's casual appearance betrayed nothing of his skill.
A lesser shinobi might have been unnerved by the shift in the atmosphere, but Baki felt none of it. His eyes were on the wall Temari, Kankuro, and Gaara had jumped over.
He would not let anyone pass.
Genma Shiranui, the proctor, moved first. The air sang as the senbon in his mouth flew toward him, but Baki was faster. He side-stepped the projectile, twisting as a blade of wind hissed out from his hand. The compressed air ripped through the senbon and toward Genma, who blurred out of the way.
He landed lightly on the balls of his feet, crouched, and his fingers twitched, more senbon slipping into his grasp. A flick of his wrist hurled a volley toward Baki, but he was already moving. A vortex wailed into existence with a single hand seal; the gust caught the projectiles in mid-air and killed their momentum.
Genma's jaw tightened as he braced himself, preparing to launch forward only to… disappear in the blink of an eye.
Baki's eyes widened slightly when an entirely different face appeared where Genma once stood. For the briefest of moments, he floundered. Instinct kicked in not a moment too soon. A flash of dark steel cut through the air where he'd been standing, forcing him to leap back and give away the safety of the wall at his back.
Instead of the exam's proctor, he laid eyes upon someone completely different: a scarred man, taller and broader than Genma Shiranui, wielding a jet-black blade. Baki—more gobsmacked by the sudden turn of events and the sharp change in style—weaved away from an overwhelming number of strikes.
Each swing was thrown solely with the intent to move him according to the man's will, but Baki eventually deflected the blade with his kunai, sparks flying. The man's strength was formidable, but Baki was stronger, forcing him back through kunai.
The shinobi slid away grudgingly, his heels digging into the earth. Baki moved to press the advantage but Genma reappeared in his place, stopping him with a quickly-thrown salvo of senbon. He slashed out instinctively, his wind chakra smashing through the weapons. Genma dodged, launching above his head only to be replaced by a plainer, more wiry-looking man.
As this third shinobi fell, he weaved through an impressive number of hand seals. Baki whipped around as a flood of water bullets surged toward him, forcing him to dodge.
The three shinobi regrouped below him and while the battle had come to a momentary pause, Baki's skin tingled as he assessed them. Genma, he knew by name due to the Chunin Exams, and his speed was impressive. The swordsman, he realised, was no less dangerous; again, Baki was stronger than him—to mention nothing of the last shinobi. Baki hadn't seen that kind of hand seal speed in a long time.
And yet this technique of theirs gave him pause. Teleportation was a feat tied to one man only—a man who had long since died.
"You've figured it out, haven't you?" the third shinobi asked. His head was covered by his forehead proctor, worn akin to a bandana, and beneath it, his eyes were dark and sharp.
Baki's eyes narrowed as he landed gracefully. "If you can use it, you three are no ordinary shinobi. Who are you?"
"The Thunder Squad," the man said simply. His tone carried no arrogance, just cold fact. "You've heard of us, I'm sure, even if we became known as such in the dying throes of the war."
Baki had heard whispers—a group of Leaf shinobi capable of turning the tide of battles with a jutsu few could counter. They had been a shadow compared to the legend of the Fourth Hokage, but their name had lingered in war stories shared over campfires. As the elite of his guard platoon, they were taught the Flying Thunder God jutsu by the Yellow Flash himself.
Or so it was said. He hadn't expected them to still be active together—and he certainly hadn't expected to meet them here.
"The war?" Baki scoffed, though he carefully split his attention between the three. "Without the Yellow Flash, you Leaf would have been worse off than us and the Stone. You act like you were its heroes, but you were nothing more than shadows in his glow."
Genma's expression didn't waver, though a flicker of something crossed his eyes—amusement, perhaps, or faint irritation. "Funny," he said, his voice carrying a hint of the smile threatening to split his face. "You say that like the Sand didn't spend half the war hiding in the desert."
The tension snapped as all three moved at once. Genma veered off in a sprint, reappearing behind Baki, while the swordsman charged head-on. Baki ducked the swing of his blade, twisting his body to avoid Genma's sudden thrust from behind. A burst of wind chakra forced them both to back off, but the third shinobi wasn't idle.
Water bullets surged toward him again, forcing Baki to dodge to the side. The trio's coordination was relentless, their attacks timed perfectly to leave no openings. Baki gritted his teeth, summoning another vortex of slicing wind to give himself space.
The tornado forced the three shinobi to scatter, buying him a brief reprieve. He dropped into a defensive stance, breathing steady but shallow. Making short work of each of them alone would have been easy for him, their synergy was beyond irritating to deal with—but Baki had figured them out.
For reasons he didn't care to explore, they seemed unable to use the Flying Thunder God Jutsu as the Fourth Hokage did. There were no marked kunai and, to his knowledge, he hadn't been marked by any of the men. Baki had heard stories where those marked by the Yellow Flash fled, returning to their camps only for the Yellow Flash to appear and butcher them all.
Those marked with his sign were marked for death. Instead, the three shinobi were switching with one another. That seemed to be all they could do.
"What's wrong?" Genma asked, wiping the sweat from his face. "Shouldn't it be easy for you to stamp out a few shadows?"
The three shinobi moved again, closing in with ruthless efficiency. Baki released the Wind Scythe Jutsu with the wide arc of his arm; the massive blades of air slicing towards each of them. He remained silent, though his mind worked itself furiously.
He had to end this quickly. The invasion was well underway—the stands above them were filled with smoke and blood as the Sand and Sound's forces moved like an unstoppable wave.
If he let himself be stalled here, these three would give his students chase, which would spell an end to the futures the Sand shinobi here carried on their shoulders. The Sand may have been the ones to break the terms of the treaty, but without doing so, they would yield their future so the Leaf could flourish.
The invasion was a gamble, but what were they if not desperate? Baki stared down his opponents; this battle would not be easy, but it was doable—winnable.
.
— — —
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The wind howled past Sasuke's ears, drowning out all but the beat of his own heart. His legs pumped in a steady rhythm as he darted over the uneven terrain, scaling the arena's wall and into the forest beyond. The Sand genin's escape marked the forest around him: sole-shaped burns printed into the bark along with their fading chakra signatures on branches.
Sasuke clenched his teeth—he had to catch them before they pulled off their plot.
"Too slow," a voice called from behind him.
He whirled mid-step, kunai drawn. Instead of an enemy, he found himself staring at—Naruto? His brow furrowed. "What the hell are you doing here?"
The blond grinned, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Good thing you can't tell I'm a shadow clone. I'm here to back you up."
"I don't need backup. Go away." Sasuke clicked his tongue, turning back toward the pursuit.
"Yeah, well, too bad." The clone's voice was maddeningly casual as it stepped behind him. "Besides, we don't even know what that Gaara guy is planning, do we?"
"I'll stop him before it happens," Sasuke snapped. He wasn't about to entertain a lecture, least of all from Naruto's clone.
"Right," the clone drawled, his tone flat, "because rushing in without knowing anything always works out so well."
Sasuke ignored him, focusing instead on the trail ahead. The trees blurred as he pushed harder, closing the gap between him and the Sand genin. Enough that he could make out a live chakra signature… though that gave him a moment's pause.
They broke through the underbrush into a clearing, only to skid to a halt.
One of the genin stood in the centre, a grotesque puppet unfolded beside him like a sentinel. His smirk was tight and brittle. "You're not getting past me," he declared, raising his hands. "Gaara and Temari—"
Sasuke didn't let him finish. He dashed forward, reading the puppet master's body language before he even twitched. A flicker of chakra at his side was the only warning before the clone surged ahead of him blitzing through hand seals.
The Sand ninja hurtled out of view, riding a burst of compressed air until the jutsu slammed him into a tree. The puppet tumbled along with him, its limbs scattering like discarded twigs, reassembling with its serrated blades glinting.
"Give up," the clone said, stopping a few feet away from them. "You won't win this fight."
The Sand shinobi sneered. "I'd rather die."
With a flick of his wrist, Sasuke sent a flurry of shuriken ahead, forcing the shinobi to use his puppet to shield himself. Naruto's clone sprung back to avoid the volley while the blades retracted to create a broad shield, which was when Sasuke closed in.
The Chidori screeched to life, breaking apart the puppet's defence. Beyond whatever defence the Sand shinobi could throw up, Sasuke swung, knocking him out cold. Killing him would have been easy, but the three Sand shinobi were useful prisoners, being the traitorous Kazekage's children.
The clone looked down at his unconscious body and sighed. Sasuke's focus locked onto any signs of where the other two could have gone. "This way," he said.
Lush forestry thinned until the trees gave way to another clearing. This time, Sasuke noted two signatures instead of one. The blonde one Naruto had fought gripped her massive fan, while Gaara continued retreating, his signature passing beyond Sasuke's vision.
She smiled. "Didn't think Kankuro would keep you guys long, but this soon?"
"He should be the least of your worries right now," Sasuke replied.
Her eyes widened, then narrowed. She swept a halting gale towards them using her war fan while Gaara made his escape. The clone leaned back and countered her Jutsu with a gust of his own.
"Go," the clone said sharply, stepping in front of Sasuke. "I'll handle her."
Sasuke didn't hesitate. He dashed past the girl as the clone engaged her. Catching up to the Gaara, Sasuke slammed a foot into his back and knocked him to the ground. He rose slowly, shoulders hunched like a cornered animal.
Gaara's lips curled into something between a grimace and a grin. "Good. You'll do. I'll prove my existence by crushing yours—and then it'll be Naruto Uzumaki's turn."
The sand surged forward before Sasuke could make his displeasure known, intent on devouring him.
He darted to the side, his movements blurring with speed as the sand struck the space he'd occupied a heartbeat earlier. Sasuke tracked every shift in the sand's movements, allowing him to dodge, but everything he aimed at Gaara was blocked before it could make contact.
He leapt back, frustration etched across his face.
Gaara tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with quiet malice; the sand rippled. A long breath pulled heat into his chest, and when he exhaled, an intense wave of fire surged forward, enveloping the sand in a searing blaze. The flames licked hungrily at the grains, melting and fusing them into jagged shards of glass that clattered to the ground.
Sasuke caught the flicker of surprise in his opponent's eyes, and he didn't waste the opening. He sliced at Gaara's chest. The blade met resistance—not from fluid-like sand, but from something harder.
Sparks flew as the kunai scraped against an invisible layer just above Gaara's skin. Sasuke slid back, his eyes narrowing as he processed the faint outer armour surrounding Gaara's body.
"...Hardened sand."
Gaara's lips curved into a self-satisfied smirk, so Sasuke lunged, aiming low only to be intercepted by a tendril of sand. It lashed out with blinding speed, forcing him to leap back again to avoid being caught.
His gaze sharpened as Gaara raised both hands. The ground rumbled as sand heaved skyward, swirling around his body, and solidified into a smooth, impenetrable dome. Sasuke's jaw tightened as he raised his hand, electricity crackling to life in his palm.
The piercing cry filled the air as lightning condensed into his palm. Electrified energy seared the earth beneath his feet and the moment his attack struck the cocoon, the clearing was filled with its crackling creech.
Shards of glassy sand splintered outward, yet the dome remained mostly intact. Before Sasuke could strike again, a wave of sand shot out of the hole he'd made, catching his arm mid-swing. Pain shot through his wrist, sharp and clear, as the crushing force drove him back.
He hit the ground hard, cradling his injured hand.
"Sasuke!"
The voice startled him. Turning, he saw a familiar figure land lightly at the edge of the clearing. The clone's expression was taut, his gaze flicking between the injured Uchiha and the ominous sand cocoon.
"You okay?" the clone asked.
Sasuke shoved himself upright. "Don't worry about me. I didn't see it before, but he's building up chakra inside that thing."
The clone nodded, his hands already forming seals. "Get ready to slap some seals on him… funnily, I don't have to worry about myself."
Wind spiralled violently around the clone's hand as he formed a compact sphere of chakra. The energy hissed and howled, its power sharp against Sasuke's skin even from a distance. The clone charged the cocoon, weaving through the tendrils of sand that lashed out until it was in striking distance.
Sand exploded outward, the shockwave rattling the forest and sending shards flying in all directions. Gaara was thrown clear of the wreckage, his body hitting the ground limply with the clone nowhere to be seen.
Sasuke staggered forward, clutching his injured arm. Sand grains lay motionless all around them. Gaara's chakra was dangerously low and blood trailed from numerous cuts—deep and shallow—all over his body. He pulled out a prisoner seal from his pouch, trembling slightly as he pressed it against Gaara's shoulder.
For a moment, Sasuke just stared at him. The fight was over, but it didn't feel like a victory. The thrum of energy in his eyes faded and he replayed the moment in his mind: Naruto's clone blowing up the cocoon in one strike.
He couldn't have done it, not even at full strength. More so than ever before, the gap between them felt like a chasm he'd never cross. Almost as if in response to his thoughts, the Curse Seal on his neck pulsed, sending a wave of agony down his body.
His fingers curled into a fist, both in pain and frustration.
The sound of footsteps broke his thoughts. He turned sharply, his good hand reaching for his kunai as a group of masked figures closed in. Identical tattoos marked their arms and the animal-themed masks made it clear they were ANBU.
The lead figure stepped forward, their voice distorted behind a deer-like mask. "We'll take it from here."
Sasuke's eyes narrowed.
"We're agents of the Leaf," the leader replied, motioning for two others to secure Gaara. "You've done well, Uchiha. Our leader is impressed and wishes to meet you."
Sasuke's gaze dropped to the scroll the figure held out. Hesitation flickered across his face, but he reached out and took it. The masked group moved quickly, lifting Gaara and disappearing into the forest as silently as they'd come.
Sasuke stood alone in the clearing, his injured arm throbbing as he stared down at the scroll. His fingers tightened around it, but the weight in his chest was heavier.
.
— — —
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Amid the chaos of the invasion, Ino's heartbeat remained steady, her breath controlled. The screams of villagers and the clang of steel seemed distant as if her mind had tucked them away to focus on immediate concerns. Shikamaru's shadows darted across the battlefield, pulling villagers from harm with calculated precision. He was arguing with Kiba again, the latter's growl cutting through the din.
The civilians around them took shelter behind rubble or hid inside the side streets. They'd picked them up a street back, but moving just under a dozen non-combatants was difficult under fire. On every street, they were rushed by a group of enemies, and none were above killing civilians.
Suzumi watched this with a tired look in her eyes. Her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose and she pushed them up, brushing damp, sweaty locks out of her eyes. Ino met her gaze and saw the exact moment irritation gave way to pure fear.
"They're coming," Suzumi said suddenly, her voice cutting through Shikamaru and Kiba's argument like a blade. "A pair of enemies—over that way!"
The group of civilians they were escorting scrambled behind rubble with a benumbed practice.
"Honestly," Ino muttered, partly from exhaustion but mostly out of pity.
None of them had anticipated their first active combat situation to be this dire. They'd trained for controlled danger, not an invasion, chaos all around, the stakes uncomfortably real. Shikamaru's orders came with an urgency she couldn't ignore, and while she followed them without hesitation, the same couldn't be said about Kiba.
Reality and a dozen lives in their hands forced them into cohesion, Shikamaru and Suzumi sticking with the civilians and Kiba darting ahead. Ino followed, her hands weaving the seals for a jutsu she'd practised endlessly under her father's tutelage. Her focus narrowed. The ripple of chakra in the rubble ahead caught her attention. She released the jutsu once they rounded the corner, her chakra snaking through the air like a fine thread.
The enemy kunoichi flinched, cutting down her comrade, her thoughts disrupted just long enough for Kiba to close the distance.
"Too easy," Kiba muttered. But before Ino could throw out a snarky comment, her chest tightened.
"Guys, we can't avoid this next group if we keep at it like this," Suzumi called out. "One of them is stronger than the rest. Chunin-level, and that's me being hopeful."
Shikamaru glanced at her, frowning. "You're sure?"
"Positive," Suzumi replied, her tone calm but firm. "She's faster and has more chakra than the others. We shouldn't engage her."
"...Why me," Shikamaru muttered under his breath with a hand to his forehead. He twisted back, raising his voice. "Suzumi, take the civilians and leave. Your sensing's much better than Ino's, so you'll probably be able to make it to a shelter. But just to be sure, find a Leaf shinobi."
The red-eyed girl frowned. "But—"
"Go," Shikamaru interrupted her. "You're not a Leaf shinobi. We can't ask you to throw away your life."
The civilians rushed into a side street. Suzumi spared a long look in their direction before nodding. "Don't die. I'll come to find you guys afterwards."
Ino somehow found it in her to smile in reply.
They could have escaped if not for the civilians; Ino squashed the thought using the very bitterness it pulled out of her.
"Well, there are worse ways to go out," said Kiba.
Shikamaru sighed. "I'd like to live past today if it's all the same to you.
"Eyes up, guys. They're here," she whispered, dread heavy in her stomach—if they were close enough that she could sense them, running was a pipe dream.
A group of three descended on them, though Ino's eyes lingered on the fourth who'd elected to stay above. Kiba ripped out one's throat with sharpened nails, Akamaru having been transformed into Kiba to kill another. Shikamaru's shadows ensnared another pair long enough for her and Kiba to finish off.
Their teamwork was far from perfect—Kiba was reckless, and Shikamaru had to move the enemies in the way of incoming attacks to make up for Ino's mistakes—but somehow, they managed.
Soon, only the leader of the group remained: a kunoichi wielding a curved dagger. She jumped down, her mocking smirk belying the sharp, calculated danger in her movements. "Impressive. These Hidden Sound were chumps, but I didn't expect you brats to beat them… though you should've run while you had the chance. Now it's just me, and I don't need backup to kill you brats."
She hadn't interfered at all, choosing to stand back and watch. Ino hadn't questioned the choice before, but the glint of the Hidden Sand forehead protector tied around her waist put her doubts to rest.
Their invaders weren't as united as they seemed—otherwise, why let them kill her so-called comrades?
"Kiba, fall back!" Shikamaru's shadows shot toward the woman. She sidestepped the attack, dancing out of range until the tendrils grew taut, straining to reach her. "We've done what we can. We're leaving!"
But the woman's taunt stopped them cold. "Run, then," she sneered, "but I wonder how far your helpless little friends will get when I catch up. I'll make sure to let them know you abandoned them."
That was all it took. Kiba's eyes burned with fury, and Akamaru barked in fierce agreement.
"You're not touching them!" Kiba snarled, his body tensing to spring forward. Ino watched visible frustration override any sense of caution.
"Kiba, don't!" she shouted, but he charged in anyway.
The woman played with him like he was a mouse, feinting and dodging with infuriating ease and an airy laugh. Her dagger sliced upward, grazing Kiba's arm.
Shikamaru's shadow threw Kiba away just as her blade came dangerously close to Kiba's throat. "Get out of there," he yelled. "I'll let this go once we're safe but be quick about it. I'm not going to tank my reserves because you can't get your head on straight!"
Kiba backed away from the blade and trudged towards them, followed by Akamaru. The puppy bolted through a puff of smoke, the transformation dispelling.
Though he growled, fists clenched, blood dripping from his arm. "She's playing with us," he said, gasping with red-hot fervour. "We can take her together!"
"We're not dying because of your ego," Shikamaru replied, beads of sweat trickling down his temple from the strain. He released his jutsu, the shadows snapping back to him. "Move!"
Ino didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed Kiba's uninjured arm, dragging him back as
Shikamaru followed close behind with his head on a swivel.
They bolted down a side street, rubble and broken door frames scattered beneath their feet.
The sound of laughter rang out behind them.
"Oh, you're fast," the kunoichi called. "But not fast enough to run from me."
A flash of steel sliced through the air. Before anyone could react, Kiba screamed, clutching his face as blood poured from his face. He staggered, collapsing to his knees. Akamaru howled in panic, hopping out of Kiba's shirt only to kick his dislodged and bloody brown eye down the cobbled path.
"Kiba!" Ino stepped in front of him, kunai raised.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it," Shikamaru muttered. He turned back to face the kunoichi, who strolled toward them, her dagger dripping with blood.
"You should've stayed and fought properly," she said, spinning the blade in her hand. "But I suppose this is more fun. You know, if I play my cards right, this little skirmish could earn me a promotion. Jonin, maybe? I'd like that." She raised her dagger, pointing it at Kiba, who was struggling to stand. "Let's start with the dog boy, shall we?"
Shikamaru's shadows lashed out, but the kunoichi darted aside effortlessly. Ino moved to shield Kiba, her hands trembling as she prepared another jutsu, though she knew it wouldn't be enough.
The cold inevitability of their deaths pressed down on her, suffocatingly so.
"Dynamic Entry!"
A blur of green and black rocketed into her field of vision. The kunoichi barely had time to react before a foot slammed into her midsection, sending her flying into a crumbling wall with enough force to fly through it.
Shikamaru blinked in stunned silence as Rock Lee landed in front of them, his stance low and ready, his eyes burning with righteous fury. "You've done well to hold on this long!" Lee turned and shot them a wide grin, though it faltered when he saw Kiba. "Now, leave this to me!"
The kunoichi groaned, pushing herself from the rubble, her mocking smirk replaced with a snarl. "Who the hell are you supposed to be?"
"Your opponent," Lee replied. "And I swear you will pay for what you have done here."
In a flash, he closed the distance between them, his fists and feet moving in a blinding flurry of strikes. The kunoichi barely managed to parry with her dagger, her movements growing sloppier with each blow. Ino watched, wide-eyed, as Lee's relentless assault forced the kunoichi onto the defensive.
She slowed down to the point where avoiding Lee's blows was impossible; it only took one to bring her to her knees.
"Sakura!" Lee called, barely winded. "It's all clear now!"
Ino watched Sakura drop down in a sort of stupor, pink hair and all. Her best friend's expression tightened when she saw Kiba and she knelt beside him.
"We need to get him to the medics, now," Sakura said.
"I-I'm… fine," Kiba muttered, but his voice wavered, his hand trembling in front of his missing eye.
"You're not fine!" Ino stepped closer. "Let her help."
Sakura hoisted Kiba up with surprising strength, Akamaru whining at her side. She spared Ino a brief nod before taking off toward the medical tents.
Lee watched them go before turning to Ino. "Naruto has grown stronger," he said quietly, his tone contemplative. "I've seen dozens of his clones helping the villagers. He's become quite the ninja. I hope to fight him one day."
Ino barely heard him. Her gaze lingered on Kiba's eye; slick and glossy. She swallowed hard, forcing her focus to shift—Kiba was safe now.
"We need to move," said Shikamaru. "Suzumi said she'll find us. Lee, want to stick with us?"
"Of course!"
"Great." He turned to her. "I know you're not Suzumi, but you're still a pretty good sensor."
The ghost of a smile found its way to Ino's lips. "I don't know whether that's a compliment, but I'll take it."
Their unlikely group pressed forward through the war-torn streets. Ino lingered a step behind, her senses sweeping for threats, though her focus was fraying at the edges. Her hands trembled faintly and her earlier confidence warred with the uneasy thrum in her chest.
She wasn't green anymore—but the invasion was testing every reserve of strength she had. Ahead of her, Lee moved with an efficiency that bordered on reckless. His relentless energy, which Ino imagined was often a source of embarrassment for his team, now seemed like exactly what they needed.
She wanted to focus on the present—on the task at hand—but her mind was splintering, memories bleeding into the chaos around her. Every glimpse of a Naruto clone helping villagers brought her right back to that moment in the training exercise, when she'd recklessly used the Mind Transfer Jutsu on him.
Ino hadn't expected to stumble into his mindscape, let alone come face-to-face with the Nine-Tails itself. Months on, she could see it all so clearly: the oppressive chakra choking her as it clawed into her senses; the guttural growl echoing in her ears; and then… Naruto.
Standing between her and the beast, calm in the way that had confused her back in the Academy. And Naruto? When he looked at her with something close to guilt in his eyes and told her he should keep their distance for a while, she hadn't known how to argue with him.
No, part of her didn't want to—those words still felt lodged in her throat, even now. She stumbled on a loose stone and caught herself before she fell, her breath catching.
Shikamaru noticed and glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. "You good?"
"Fine," she said, brushing it off. She wasn't about to crack when they had people relying on them. "There's another chakra signature ahead. Probably just a clone, but keep an eye out."
Shikamaru nodded and turned back to survey the path ahead, muttering something to himself about troublesome situations. Ino, let her senses stretch out again, grounding herself in the steady rhythm of tracking and focusing.
Moments later, the source of the chakra came into view. It was, as she'd predicted, a Naruto clone. This one was hauling debris off a collapsed building, his movements pausing every few seconds to direct a villager or lend a hand to pull one out. His brown flak jacket was dusty, torn in places, but the look on his face was as collected as always.
The ache in her chest deepened, faint guilt threading through it. She'd been so afraid after what happened in his mindscape—afraid of the Nine-Tails, yes, but also of what it meant for how she'd come to see Naruto.
Instead of sorting through those feelings, she'd avoided him. Let him create distance like he'd said, as though that could fix things given enough time. She thought of the way he'd smiled at her, quiet and reassuring despite the pain in his own eyes at having to stay away from her for her own good.
She thought of his clones now, fighting and protecting the village without hesitation, giving everything he had for a place that had only ever seen him as a threat.
Her fingers twitched at her sides. She wanted—no, needed—to say something and speak to that clone, even if it wasn't really him. Maybe just to thank him. Maybe to tell him she didn't blame him.
Maybe… more.
She took a step forward, but Shikamaru's voice broke through her thoughts like a slap. "Ino, come on! We've got more civilians to find."
Ino looked up, startled.
Lee was already leading the family Naruto had pulled free forward, and Shikamaru was watching her with a frown, waiting for her to move. The clone glanced over briefly as if sensing her attention. Its blue eyes found her, stopped for a second, but didn't linger.
When she built up enough courage to stop using her peripheral vision, the clone was already pivoting back to the wreckage, barking orders at nearby villagers.
"C-Coming," she said quickly, catching up with Shikamaru. He shot her a questioning look but didn't press.
As they moved on, Ino cast one last glance over her shoulder. She clenched her fists and swallowed hard, refocusing on the task ahead because there were still people to save.
For now, that was enough to keep her moving.
.
— — —
.
The Four Violet Flames Formation flickered ominously. Its hues cast ghastly shadows across the scarred rooftop. The din of distant battle echoed faintly, but inside the barrier was unnervingly quiet.
Hiruzen Sarutobi stood tall, his ageing frame draped in the familiar robes of the Third Hokage. He breathed steadily despite the mounting tension. Before him, Orochimaru lounged with serpentine ease, his twisted smile a challenge more biting than any blade. On either side of his ex-student stood the reanimated forms of the First and Second Hokage—Hashirama and Tobirama Senju. The lifeless glow in their eyes betrayed their lack of will, even as they radiated an oppressive power that filled the air.
For Hiruzen, it was like gazing into a cruel reflection of the past.
Orochimaru broke the heavy silence with a chuckle. "Ah, sensei, how quaint of you to stand against me with that same beaten resolve as usual. Tell me, how does it feel to see your teachers again—only to realise they're here to destroy you?"
Hiruzen's grip on his staff tightened. His reply came even and measured. "Truly, I've witnessed the depth of your madness, Orochimaru. Is nothing beneath you?"
"On the contrary, sensei, nothing is above me. You taught me to aim for the pinnacle, did you not? To surpass it, in fact?" A cruel chuckle escaped Orochimaru's lips as he tilted his head mockingly. He gestured lazily to the masked figure at Hiruzen's side, garbed in an ANBU mask and dark robes. "I see you've brought a surprise guest. How very thoughtful. Care to introduce me?"
Hiruzen cast a glance at the masked figure, whose shoulders straightened under Orochimaru's scrutiny. Before he could intervene, she reached up and removed her porcelain mask in one fluid motion, revealing fiery red hair that cascaded down her shoulders and eyes that gleamed with defiance.
Orochimaru's golden eyes widened briefly before his delight reemerged, more sinister than before. "Kushina Uzumaki. Fascinating! The dearly departed wife of the Fourth Hokage… and mother of little Naruto. Oh, the irony. You've turned to the very jutsu you just condemned me for using. Hypocrisy truly is the foundation of this village's great leaders." He turned his mocking gaze back to Hiruzen. "Tell me, sensei, how does it feel to break your precious principles? To summon the dead, just as I have, for your purposes?"
"You left me no choice," Hiruzen said. "I would not allow you to desecrate her memory—or use her against her son."
Orochimaru's smile merely deepened. He clapped his hands, and the reanimated Hokage moved in unison. Lord First's hands blurred through seals, the ground beneath their feet rumbling violently. Wood erupted in thick, writhing tendrils and knotted limbs reaching for their ankles.
"Move!" Hiruzen barked, his staff spinning in a wide arc as he vaulted over the advancing wood. Kushina's chakra chains flared to life, gleaming with a golden radiance as they whipped through the air, slicing through the wood. But even as the chains cut through, the tendrils regenerated to chase them further.
Lord Second joined the fray, his fingers forming seals with a speed that defied Hiruzen's tracking. A torrent of water erupted from his mouth, crashing toward Kushina in a wave so fierce it left gouges in the earth. She raised her chains instinctively, forming a barrier that split the water in two, but the force of the attack sent her skidding back.
Hiruzen engaged his old mentor, his staff meeting the Second Hokage's kunai with a resounding clash. Their rhythm was almost dance-like as Hiruzen strained to match his speed. Experience compensated for his ageing frame, but even as he held his own, Hiruzen knew he couldn't keep this up.
Lord First was still advancing on Kushina, and Orochimaru was watching the fight with a predatory patience, waiting for his moment to strike.
"Enma!" Hiruzen laid down his staff, his voice cutting through the chaos.
With a burst of smoke, the Monkey King appeared. "You've really gotten yourself into it this time, Hiruzen," Enma growled out, his muscles tensing as he sized up the village's founder.
"We have to separate them," Hiruzen said tersely, deflecting another strike from Tobirama.
"I'll take the Hashirama," Enma said without hesitation, his form shifting into the staff as he extended toward Lord First. The wooden constructs around them buckled under the force of his strikes, but Lord First merely smiled a lifeless, empty smile as he summoned even more to overwhelm the monkey king.
Kushina, meanwhile, turned her full attention to Lord Second, her chains lashing out in an intricate pattern. Lord Second's water ninjutsu clashed with the golden chains, and while none were damaging her thanks to their chakra-nullifying properties, Kushina was slowly giving up ground due to her defence.
Hiruzen focused on Orochimaru, their battle an eerie reflection of the past sparring sessions. The Kusanagi blade hissed through the air. Hiruzen managed to summon his first staff, a chakra conductive rod more so than a weapon, as it met the snake sword in a shower of sparks. Each strike from Orochimaru carried a level of grace, his movements were fluid and unpredictable, just as Hiruzen taught them to be.
"You've aged well, sensei," said Orochimaru. "But you should know that you can't keep this up forever."
Hiruzen didn't reply. His focus was absolute and his mind a whirlwind of strategy and sharpened instinct. But even as he fought, he could feel the tide turning against them. Lord First's Wood-Release reshaped the battlefield with ease. Lord Second's relentless Water-Release forced Kushina onto the defence, and Enma, for all his strength, was slowly being overpowered by the sheer scale of Wood-Release ninjutsu.
It was then that the malevolent chakra of the Nine-Tails surged, freezing the combatants in their tracks. The air grew heavy with its oppressive presence, a suffocating wave of malice that sent a chill down Hiruzen's spine.
His head snapped toward the source while his heart sank all at once. "Kushina," Hiruzen said urgently, his voice cutting through her shock. "You have to go."
Despite looking ready to tear through the barrier there and then, Kushina frowned. "But you'll die if I—"
"Go!" he interrupted her, his tone brooking no argument. "I'll handle things here."
Kushina hesitated for only a moment before nodding. With a roar of defiance, she charged the barrier. The flames consumed her, peeling flesh from bone, but her immortal body reformed with each agonising step. Orochimaru's smirk widened as he watched her, but he made no move to intervene and when she exited, the battle resumed, more brutal than before.
Hiruzen faced the combined might of Orochimaru and Tobirama Senju, and where they were fuelled by unnatural might, Hiruzen could feel his body protesting with each step. His thoughts turned inward now, no longer being forced to keep track of multiple battles. He had always known this day might come, the day he would give his life for the village. He thought of Jiraiya, who should have been here, and wondered if he had been too soft, too forgiving.
Not just with Orochimaru, but with all his students. Perhaps a firmer hand alongside an even firmer mind would have prevented this all. For all that he despised him, Danzo's voice echoed in his mind, a bitter reminder of their endless arguments. Had he failed his village by holding on to hope, to faith in people like Orochimaru?
"Enma," he said softly when finally the Kusanagi blade wore his weapon to its last. "Staff form."
"Hiruzen… you cannot fight all three—" Enma began, his voice tinged with uncharacteristic hesitation.
"Do it."
Escaping the trappings of Lord First's ninjutsu, Enma threw himself towards him and transformed. The staff lengthened in his hands, and Hiruzen planted his feet firmly on the ground. He stared at the twisted parody of his former student and the reanimated forms of his old masters for a moment.
"I'm surprised I lived so long," he murmured.
And with that, he charged towards them.