Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Run.

Run.

Run!

You can’t stop. Not now. Not when the echo of their voices still rings in your mind. Keep going, you tell yourself again and again, as if the words alone could give you strength. The rain pours harder—cold, relentless—striking your face, soaking your clothes, turning them into a heavy burden clinging to your body. But you can’t give in. You made a promise.

You must keep it.

Even if you can’t breathe, even if your legs burn and your lungs tighten, you can’t stop. They risked their lives so you could escape; you have no right to give up. Not until you’re far away. Not until you’re safe.

“I promised them…” you whisper between gasps, more to convince yourself than to remember it. Your bare feet sink into the mud, skin tearing against rocks and splinters. You feel the blood mix with the dirty water running between the roots.

Branches lash at your face and arms as you push through the trees, stumbling over and over, but you don’t stop. The ground grows slick beneath the rain, and the air, thick and heavy, presses against your chest. Your tears blend with the drops falling from the sky.

The weight on your back throws you off balance. Your shoulders ache, your muscles tremble, but you can’t let go. You trained for this—for climbing and descending the mountain, for carrying your comrades at the academy, for enduring exhaustion to the limit. But you’ve never gone this far. You’ve never left the mountain.

And now, the steel you carry grows heavier with every step—cold against your skin, hidden beneath the soaked fabric.

You run until you reach a tree with a wide trunk and deep roots. Your breath burns in your chest, but you know you have to keep moving. The mud has already slowed you down, and every step you take leaves a trace that could give you away. Running through the branches will be faster—safer.

With a burst of strength, you grip the wet trunk and climb, using the grooves in the bark for support. The downpour makes your fingers slip, but you force yourself to keep going. From the first branch, you take a breath and leap to the next.

You move from branch to branch, light despite your exhaustion, minding every step, every push. The damp wood betrays your balance; a single mistake would be enough to make you fall and break. The fall wouldn’t kill you—but it would make you vulnerable. And you can’t afford that.

The rain intensifies, wrapping the forest in a gray shroud. In the distance, among the shadows of the trees, you think you catch a glimmer—a faint light. Your heart skips a beat.

Konohagakure.

It can’t be far. If you make it, you’ll have kept your promise. If you make it, it will all have been worth it.

Suddenly, a sharp crack cuts through the murmur of the rain. The branch beneath your feet gives way without warning. You try to lunge toward the next tree—but you’re too far.

Damn it.

There’s no time to react. The world tilts, the air slams against your face, and then—impact.

Your head hits the ground with a dull thud. A sharp pain shoots from the base of your skull to your temples, and a deafening ringing fills your ears. The cold mud clings to your skin, mixing with the blood seeping from a wound hidden beneath your hair.

“Ah… did I crack my skull?” you mutter, your voice trembling, barely a whisper lost beneath the rain.

You try to move. Nothing responds. Your arms, your legs… it’s as if they no longer belong to you. A spasm of panic shakes you, but you can’t even lift yourself. Darkness starts to creep in at the edges of your vision, thick and blurry like fog.

“No… no… I’m gonna pass out…”

The world spins. The treetops blur together with the gray sky, and the rain lashes your face mercilessly. You want to keep your eyes open, but your eyelids grow heavy as stone. The sound of your own breathing fades, distant and muffled.

—“Damn it! Where did it go?!” shouted Naruto, pushing his way through the rain-soaked bushes.

The young ninja, dressed in his unmistakable orange jacket, leapt from tree to tree with frustration and determination. It wasn’t the first time he’d lost food, but that squirrel had crossed the line. Stealing his freshly made mochi was an unforgivable offense.

—“You’re not getting away with this, you furry thief!” —Naruto huffed, following the tiny trail of footprints stamped into the damp earth.

The forest air was fresh, still heavy with the scent of last night’s rain. The soft ground muffled his footsteps as he moved forward, eyes sharp, scanning every mark, every twitch among the bushes. He could climb the trees, he thought—gain some height to find it faster… but after that storm, the branches were too slippery. He didn’t feel like ending up covered in mud.

A mischievous grin spread across Naruto’s face when he saw the tracks curve behind an old oak. He quickened his pace, crouching low, ready to pounce on the “thief.” With a swift leap, he dove between the roots, his left hand closing around a fluffy tail, hoisting the animal into the air, upside down. The squirrel squeaked and squirmed, its cheeks puffed and dusted with shiny sugar; its tiny front paws flailed helplessly in the air.

—“Gotcha!” —Naruto shouted triumphantly— “Give back my mochi, you furry rat!”

But the little creature wasn’t giving up. With a quick twist, its teeth sank into Naruto’s right fingers. He let out an “Ouch!” and immediately dropped it. The mochi—or what was left of it—splattered at his feet in a soggy mess of rice dough. The squirrel took advantage of the confusion and bolted, disappearing into the underbrush with a couple of nimble hops.

Naruto growls and lunges after her again, dodging branches and fallen logs, but in that split second, something catches his attention: among the underbrush, a pale glimmer against the mud. He stops dead in his tracks, the chase forgotten for a moment.

He approaches cautiously. The rain has left the grass heavy, and the leaves glisten with droplets; the scent of moss and freshly wet earth fills the air. Pushing through the bushes, the sight becomes clearer: a figure lying against a tangle of roots, hair plastered to the face, breath barely perceptible.

Naruto lets out a muffled whistle, his heart pounding in his chest. He kneels beside the fallen branch and leans toward you, carefully moving the soaked strands of hair away from your face. The rain has left your skin cold to the touch and your lips slightly pale. You don’t respond.

Naruto frowns, eyes squinting, unsure of what to do for a moment. Should he leave you here? No, impossible. He straightens, furrowing his brow, his expression resolute.

—“No… I can’t do that,” —he murmurs, clenching his fists— “I’m a ninja! And someday I’ll be Hokage! A hero doesn’t abandon someone who needs him.”

He picks up a branch from the ground and, carefully, uses it to touch your cheek, trying to get a reaction. —“Hey… hey, wake up!” —he says, gently nudging you, nervousness creeping into his voice— “Hey, don’t fall asleep here!”

Naruto leans in closer, worry etched across his face. Then, your body shivers slightly. A barely audible moan escapes your lips, and your eyelids flutter open slowly.

The first image you make out is blurry, trembling. An orange blur against a green background, then a young face gradually coming into focus in the daylight. He has large, sky-blue eyes, and on each cheek three marks, like the whiskers of a feline.

What strange birthmarks, you think, trying to return to reality.

—“Ah, thank goodness…” —the boy sighs, dropping the branch and giving a smile that mixes relief and nervousness— “I thought you’d gone to the other world or something.”

You try to sit up, your muscles protesting with every movement. You feel your bones creak, numb from the cold and damp. Your body feels heavy; your head even more so.

Where am I?

You look around. The forest is still there, the same scene you saw before you fell, though now sunlight filters through the leaves. It’s no longer raining.

I’m not in the village… I’m still in the forest. I fainted. How foolish—I could have died. And them?

The thought pierces you like a dagger. The answer comes before you can deny it.

Dead… yes. They’re dead.

—“Uh… hello?!” —the boy’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. He waves a hand in front of your face, leaning toward you with a furrowed brow— “Hey, can you hear me?”

You blink, still disoriented.

—“Who are you? What’s your name?” —he asks abruptly, curiosity in his tone. —“I’m Naruto Uzumaki,” he introduces himself.

You watch him without responding. His clothes, his attitude, his straightforward expression… but you don’t know him. Who is this child? An enemy?

You remember your father’s voice, firm as always: “Never tell your name to a stranger, especially if you don’t know which village they’re from.”

You remain silent, watching him cautiously, your hands tense against the earth.

Naruto tilts his head, puzzled by your muteness. —“What’s wrong? You’re not talking?” —he says, a mix of curiosity and concern in his voice.

Naruto sighs, scratching the back of his neck in frustration. —“Tsk… great, I rescue someone who doesn’t even want to say their name,” —he murmurs, but quickly flashes that carefree, stubborn smile of his— —“It’s fine, doesn’t matter. I saved you, so I doubt some animal’s going to come eat you now that you’re awake.”

He stands up, the branch falling to the ground with a soft click. He turns halfway, the bright orange of his jacket contrasting with the damp green of the forest.

The sound of his footsteps moving away startles you. A surge rises in your chest, a pang of fear mingled with loneliness. You don’t know him, you don’t know if he can be trusted, but… being alone in the forest is not an option. Not again.

Before thinking, you reach out and grab the fabric of his jacket. Your fingers tremble, your grip uncertain but determined. Naruto stops immediately and turns his head over his shoulder.

—“Huh?” —he mutters, surprised.

You lower your gaze, unable to meet his inquisitive expression, but you don’t let go of the fabric. The breeze lifts the edge of his hood, and a tense silence settles between you.

—“Hey… if you’re thinking of following me, you don’t have to. Seriously, you’ll be fine here,” —his tone tries to be reassuring, but there’s a hesitation in his voice, a doubt that betrays him. He pauses, then adds, looking away— —“I don’t want anyone to see me with someone… like you.”

For a moment, you don’t understand what he means, but then it hits you. Reality strikes: the torn clothes, the dried mud covering your arms and legs, the strands of hair plastered to your face, the scratches on your skin. You look more like a wild creature than a person.

Shame burns your cheeks and tightens your throat. You try to swallow, but the lump in your chest won’t let you. The same feeling that grips you when you’re about to cry takes over, and before you can stop it, tears slip silently down your face.

You’ve never felt so alone. So miserable.

But even so, you don’t move. You don’t let go of his jacket.

You lift your gaze slowly, eyes misted, face streaked with mud and tears. You don’t say a single word, but your expression says it all: exhaustion, fear, and a silent plea you didn’t even know you could show.

Naruto holds it for barely a second. And that second is enough.

The blonde exhales, long and resigned, lowering his shoulders.

—“Tsk… these things always happen to me,” —he mutters, though his voice has lost its edge. He turns to face you, a mix of resignation and compassion in his eyes— —“It’s fine, you can come.”

He gestures with his head toward the path, trying to look serious.
—“But don’t bother me, understood? And don’t fall behind.”

You can’t help but give a small smile through your tears, barely a flicker of relief. You nod silently, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand, and take the first step behind him. Naruto exhales, but doesn’t quicken his pace. He moves slowly enough for you to follow without stumbling.

The path to the village wasn’t long, though it wasn’t easy either. The trail descended through increasingly sparse trees, and with every step you noticed the air changing: warmer, lighter. Very different from the mountain you had come from.

Up there, more than two thousand five hundred meters above sea level, the cold was constant and the damp penetrated to the bone. The sun rarely showed itself through the thick mist covering the peaks, and the wind carried the scent of snow and wet earth. Your body had grown accustomed to that harsh climate, to the sharp silence of the air and the crunch of footsteps on frozen ground.

Here, everything was different. The sun seemed brighter, the colors more vivid; even your breathing felt lighter, as if an invisible weight had been left behind with the mountain.

Your village—if you could still call it that—was small, barely a settlement founded ten years ago. A handful of stone houses with wooden roofs, and roads that winter usually covered completely. Everyone knew each other, and strangers were met with suspicion. No one arrived without purpose, and no one left easily; it was just as difficult to enter as it was to leave.

No one was following you, yet you felt the need to glance around at every step. Naruto walked ahead in silence, hands clasped behind his head, golden hair glinting in the sun. He seemed completely unaware of your thoughts, as if nothing at all concerned him.

You thought maybe it was time to speak. After all, he was helping you, even though he had no obligation to do so.

You swallowed, trying to summon courage. —“Hey…” —you finally murmur, your voice barely a thread the wind almost carries away— “Thank you… for not leaving me there.”

A faint smile appears on his face before he responds without turning around:
—“Heh. I couldn’t leave someone lying in the forest. I’m not that kind of person.”

—“Th-thank you…” —you murmur softly, unsure of what else to say.

Silence hangs for a few seconds as you walk along the main street. You pass a small ramen stand, and the salty aroma of the hot broth hits you full force. Your stomach growls loudly, betraying you. Naruto glances over just slightly, giving a half-amused smile, but says nothing.

—“I… my name is Kurokami—” —you begin timidly, eyes on the ground. The earth beneath your bare feet feels warm and rough; your heels ache from so much walking.

Without stopping, Naruto raises his hands in the air with an exaggerated gesture.
—“A pleasure! I already told you my name, but I’ll say it again!” —he announces, puffing out his chest— “I’m Naruto Uzumaki! And I will become the greatest ninja in the world and the greatest Hokage this village has ever seen!”

He immediately turns, eagerly awaiting your reaction. But you look at him, confused, unsure what to say. Becoming a ninja already sounded hard; being Hokage seemed impossible.

—“Uh… good for you,” —you manage to say, hoping that’s enough.

Naruto grins from ear to ear, as if your words were the recognition he’d been waiting for.
—“Yes!” —he exclaims proudly, just as he stops in front of a door. Distracted, you almost bump into his back; you hadn’t realized you’d arrived.

The blonde pulls a key from his pocket and steps aside to let you through.
—“After you.”

—“Excuse me…” —you whisper, shaking off your feet before stepping inside.

The interior is small and somewhat chaotic: a messy futon, some utensils piled on the table, and a stack of dishes screaming to be washed.

You don’t see anyone else inside. You wonder where the boy’s parents might be, but decide not to ask. It’s none of your business.

Naruto drags a small stool to place it by the window and gestures for you to sit.
—“You can stay here for now,” —he explains in a more serious tone— “I’ll tell Iruka-sensei; he’ll know what to do with you.”

After a few seconds, he crosses his arms, adopting a solemn expression.
—“But before that… there are some rules.” —He raises one finger— “Rule number one: don’t touch my things without permission.”

He raises a second finger.
—“Number two: this will be your space,” —he says, drawing an imaginary line with his hand, just a few inches around the stool— “don’t cross it.”

And finally, a third finger.
—“And number three: don’t get in my way of becoming a great ninja. If you do anything that slows me down… you’re out! Got it?”

—“Got it,” —you reply firmly.

For a moment, he seems surprised at how quickly you accept. Then he smiles, satisfied.
—“Good. Then… welcome to my home.” —He turns toward the kitchen, scratching the back of his neck— “I guess I should make you something to eat, huh?”

—“No need… I should cook. You’ve already done so much for me,” —you say, rising from the stool in a sudden impulse to stop him. But as soon as you take a step, you remember the imaginary line he drew on the floor. You halt, awkwardly sitting back down. You can’t break rule number two—not when he’s just trusted you.

Naruto watches you, raising an eyebrow, and then lets out a small laugh.
—“You’re weird,” —he comments before shrugging— —“Well, I think before you cook, you need a bath. You look terrible.”

His words catch you by surprise, but you can’t deny it. You feel the dry dirt on your arms, the mud clinging to your legs, and the discomfort of your wet, torn clothes. Still, his blunt honesty leaves you a little unsettled.

Naruto walks over to a small built-in cabinet and starts rummaging inside. You hear the rustle of fabric, the metallic clink of something rolling, and finally, a triumphant exclamation.
—“Ah, here it is!” —he says, pulling out a towel hidden under a pile of unfolded clothes— —“Here, use this. It’s clean… I think.”

You take it carefully, inspecting the worn but soft fabric.
—“Thank you…” —you whisper, barely audible.

Naruto points to a door on the left.
—“The bathroom’s that way. But wait,” —he adds, digging through the mess again— —“I’ll get you some clothes too.”

You close the door behind you, and the sound of water from the small faucet echoes softly in the room. The space is narrow, but enough to move comfortably. Steam rises slowly from the hot water, enveloping your shoulders.

Carefully, you remove the soaked, mud-stained clothes, letting the dirt fall to the bathroom floor. The sensation of weight lifting from your body is almost therapeutic, though brief. You stretch your back with a contained sigh, and then your hands reach for something even more precious.

You grip it firmly by the tsuka, letting your fingers trace the braided leather of the Arakane, perfectly interwoven, smooth to the touch yet secure under your hold. The blade remains sheathed in its saya, but its presence gives you a sense of stability that the world around you still cannot offer.

Your stomach twists with a knot of guilt and worry. Memories of your companions—Takeshi, Ren, Mika—hit you hard, and a silent thought escapes your lips: “Please, forgive me for leaving you…” You hug the katana to your chest, as if its firmness could replace the warmth of the company you miss. Tears well up in your eyes again, but this time there’s a mix of fear, exhaustion, and relief.

The mud and dirt still smudging your face mix with the tears. With slow, measured movements, you draw the katana from its saya. The polished steel catches the light from the bulb. You wipe your tears with a firm gesture. There’s no time for regrets. Not now.

You are a Kurokami, you remind yourself with determination. A shinobi of the mountain. The words echo in your mind with the same force your master used to speak them. Falling isn’t failing, but giving up… that would be. You must be strong. You must surpass yourself. And one day, you will return for those you left behind.

You put on the clothes Naruto left for you: the orange shirt is a bit large, slipping off one shoulder, and the blue pants fit snugly at your waist. You manage to tie a cord around them to keep them secure.

You gather your belongings and take one last breath of the warm bathroom air. As you open the door, the soft light of sunset filters in, dispersing the last traces of steam. Naruto sits in front of the low table, leaning over a shiny object held in both hands: a ninja headband with the leaf symbol engraved on the freshly polished metal. He gazes at it with an almost childlike devotion, as if it holds all his dreams.

—“Is that yours?” —you ask, stepping closer softly. You carefully rest your katana against the wall and clasp your hands behind your back, watching with curiosity.

Naruto looks up, smiling proudly. —“Yeah. I earned it yesterday.” —His tone is full of satisfaction— “Pretty cool, right?”

He lifts the headband carefully, admiring how the metal catches the light before tying it firmly around his forehead. The Konoha emblem shines against his blonde hair.

—“It looks good on you,” —you admit with a faint smile, recognizing the genuine excitement in his voice.

Naruto, enthusiastic, tilts his head toward you. —“Do you have one?”

You nod silently. Carefully, you unfold a piece of dark cloth you had kept among your old clothes. You hold the headband out in front of him: the metal is a duller shade, scratched from yesterday’s journey, but the symbol remains clear. Unlike his, yours doesn’t bear a leaf—it shows six vertical lines rising and falling, forming the silhouette of a mountain.

Naruto’s blue eyes widen. —“How interesting… I’ve never seen this symbol before.” —He picks up the headband, examining it with his fingers.

You smile, a touch of nostalgia in your expression.

—“It’s the emblem of my village,” —you say softly— —“It’s in the mountains to the north, about two days’ journey from here. We’re a small village… still very young.”

Naruto watches you attentively, listening to what you have to say.

—“The ninja training there is different,” —you continue, lowering your gaze, letting your fingers play along the edge of the metal band— —“Only children from important families can access the full instruction… or young people who show exceptional talent.”

You pause briefly, recalling the faces of your companions. —“We were few shinobi,” —you add with a sigh— —“Only about twenty of us graduated this year.”

Naruto listens silently, furrowing his brow, as if trying to imagine that life among the mountains.

—“That sounds really unfair,” —he finally murmurs, resting his cheek on his hand. His tone carries genuine sincerity.

Before you can respond, a sound interrupts the conversation: the simultaneous growl of both your stomachs. You glance at each other, surprised, and a light laugh breaks the silence that had formed.

—“Let me prepare dinner,” —you say, a smile attempting to bring some warmth back to the atmosphere. You rise and walk toward the small kitchen, looking up at a cabinet above the stove. The cupboard is old and barely stays closed, but when you open it, you find two packets of instant ramen. Simple, but enough.

Chapter Text

Ubicación

• Situated on the slopes of Mount Yugure (夕暮れ山, “Twilight Mountain”), this village was founded 15 years ago by three clans who decided to separate themselves from the chaos of the great ninja nations.
• From the summit, you can see the valleys surrounding Konoha, although a permanent thick mist protects the village from intruders.

Leaders

Kurokami Clan

Rai Kurokami and Akari Uchiha-Kurokami

The Kurokami clan was the first to settle in Yugure. Rai, an exiled ninja with a unique affinity for dark lightning (Kurai Kaminari), and Akari, an Uchiha who left Konoha (the exact reason is unknown).

Abilities

Kekkei Genkai:

Heart of Lightning

Allows the user to channel electric chakra directly through their emotions; the more intense the feelings, the more destructive the discharge.

However, poor control can damage the user’s nervous system.

Kuroten no Jutsu Dark Sky Technique/em>

Kuroten no Jutsu allows the user to summon an artificial lightning storm from their own chakra, darkening the sky within seconds. Unlike conventional lightning jutsu, it manipulates the electromagnetic field of the environment, creating a zone of luminous void where the user can redirect lightning as extensions of their own will.

Arakane Clan

The Arakane were blacksmiths and fighters who used the sound of metal as a weapon. Their jutsu focuses on sonic vibrations and chakra control through resonant weapons. There is information suggesting that the Arakane clan leader was a ninja from the Hidden Sound Village, but this is unconfirme

Hayashi Clan

Descendants of an ancient lineage from the Land of Wind, they settled on the mountain due to their spiritual connection with air currents.

They mastered the art of communicating with birds and manipulating wind, becoming the founders of the village’s messenger squad.

 

 

Chapter Text

Naruto had been surprisingly kind to you the night before. He’d gone out of his way to make you a makeshift bed using a sleeping bag, stacking a few blankets and folding an old jacket to serve as a pillow. It wasn’t as comfortable as your bed back at the estate, but the gesture was enough; the intention felt genuine—and after everything you’d been through, that meant more than you could put into words.

You woke up before dawn. The village’s silence was different from that of the mountains—warmer, less heavy—but still strange to you. No matter how hard you tried to relax, your mind kept replaying the memories of the day before. Everything had happened so fast… how had things gotten so complicated?

You got up carefully, trying not to make any noise, and walked to the bathroom. The cold water against your skin cleared your thoughts, and as you got ready, you remembered what Naruto had said before bed: “Tomorrow we’ll go see Iruka-sensei. He’ll know what to do with you.” You didn’t know who this Iruka was, or what kind of person he might be—but if Naruto trusted him, maybe you could too.

When you stepped out, the smell of milk greeted you. Naruto was standing by the table, hair tousled and eyelids still heavy with sleep. He was drinking straight from the carton.

“Good morning, Naruto,” you greeted softly.

He looked up, surprised, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Morning,” he replied, his voice rough with sleep.

“When are we going to see your teacher?” you asked, gathering your hair into a half-up bun and securing it with a wooden pin.

Naruto scratched his head, messing up his hair even more, then shrugged. “I don’t know… it’s still early,” he murmured, letting out a yawn. “Iruka-sensei’s probably getting classes ready.”

“Well… if you don’t mind, I’d like to see him now,” you suggested, your tone polite but firm. There was something in you—a need not to waste time, to stay busy so your mind wouldn’t wander too much.

Naruto blinked a few times, surprised, staring at you as if a second head had just sprouted. “R-right now?” he repeated, incredulous.

You nodded calmly. “Yes, now. The sooner we talk to him, the better.” —if you speak with him and he offers his help, maybe you can find out if the people in the mountains are still alive.

The boy let out a resigned sigh and stood up from his chair, stretching with a soft groan. “Okay… fine,” he said finally, searching for his Leaf Village headband and tying it on with a practiced motion. “But I’m warning you, Iruka-sensei’s always busy. If he gets mad, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

A small smile curved your lips. “I promise I’ll behave.”

Naruto paused for a moment, then opened the door. Morning light streamed into the room, warm and vibrant, signaling the start of a new day. “Then let’s go,” he said, his usual energy slowly coming to life.

The walk to the academy was quiet, though your steps felt a little unsure at first. Naruto walked ahead of you, hands clasped behind his head, whistling a tune you didn’t recognize. Every now and then, he’d turn to make sure you were following.

All around you, Konoha was coming fully awake. Fruit stalls were opening their awnings, shopkeepers greeted passersby, and the smell of freshly baked bread mixed with the scent of flowers decorating the windows. It was a lively, warm village—so different from the cold, silent mountains you had come from.

Naruto raised a hand, pointing at a wooden building with large windows. “There it is,” he announced proudly. “The Academy.”

Your gaze lifted to the banner with the Leaf symbol fluttering at the entrance. It looked imposing, but not threatening. You took a deep breath before following the blonde inside.

The hallway smelled of ink and parchment, echoing with laughter and youthful footsteps. Everything felt orderly, alive, disciplined. Naruto pushed open a slightly ajar door without much ceremony. “Iruka-sensei!” he called out enthusiastically. “I have to talk to you!”

A man with brown hair and a scar across his face looked up from a stack of documents. His expression shifted from surprise to resigned in an instant. “Naruto… how many times have I told you not to come in yelling?” he said firmly, though there was a hint of affection in his tone.

“Hehe, sorry,” Naruto scratched the back of his neck with his usual nervous smile. “But I have to tell you something, Iruka-sensei.” He stepped aside, sweeping a hand toward you from head to toe. “I found her yesterday in the forest, right after the rain.”

Iruka frowned, confused. “In the forest? What were you doing in the forest, Naruto?”

“Chasing a squirrel!” he replied without a hint of shame. The silence that followed was so thick you could almost hear Iruka holding back a sigh.

“A… a squirrel?” the teacher repeated, incredulous.

“Yes!” the blonde insisted, waving his hands energetically. “That little thief stole my mochi, and I wasn’t going to let her get away. I chased her through the trees, and just when I thought I had her…” He pointed at you again. “…I found her lying on the ground, unconscious, covered in mud. I thought she was… well, dead.”

Iruka studied you more closely this time; his expression grew serious, but not hostile. “Unconscious?” he repeated, concern in his voice. “Were you hurt?”

“No… it was just a fall,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “I fell from a tree while trying to escape.”

Iruka nodded slowly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I take it you’re not from around here,” he said, looking at you carefully.

You nodded in silence.

“Then… where do you come from?” he asked patiently, crossing his arms and leaning against the desk.

You drew a shaky breath. Your voice trembled, as did your hands.

“I… I’m from the Kumonime Village,” you began, words coming out in staccato bursts. “It’s up north, in the mountains. My village… it was attacked. I don’t know who they were, or what they wanted, but they started burning houses… attacking everyone.”

Iruka remained silent, his gaze steady but full of empathy. Naruto watched from the side, eyes wide.

“We tried to fight back, but…” you swallowed hard. “…suddenly everything was on fire. My mother told me to run south, to find refuge here, in Konoha. And I…” Your voice cracked. “…I did. I ran… and left them behind.” Your words tumbled out, each one more desperate than the last. “I want to go back. I want to know if they’re okay, but… I don’t know how. I don’t know if…” Your breathing quickened, chest burning, vision blurring.

Then you felt firm hands rest on your shoulders.

“Calm down,” Iruka said, his voice low, soothing, almost paternal. “It’s alright. You don’t have to say any more.”

Your body tensed, but that voice let some air back into your lungs. You allowed yourself to close your eyes for a moment.

“I don’t know of any village in the mountains by that name,” Iruka admitted after a few seconds of silence, “but perhaps Hokage-sama does.”

—If we tell him about your situation, maybe they can send a team there and check on how things are now— he thought for a moment, then looked back at you. “Do you have anything that could help us identify your village?”

You thought for a moment, then quickly pulled out your headband and pointed to the symbol with your finger. Several of the Genin and Shinobi must have died—if their bodies didn’t disappear in the fire, their headbands would have stayed with them.

Iruka studied the symbol carefully, then grabbed a pencil and paper from his desk and copied it down. “I’ll need to speak with the Hokage. In the meantime, it would be best for you to stay with Naruto. It doesn’t seem like you have any family here, and if your stay is going to be long”—he thought, “perhaps even permanent”— “the best option would be to integrate you into the village’s Shinobi corps… but of course, only if the Hokage approves.”

A blaze of hope stirred in your chest at his words. A spark of determination ignited within you. You would do whatever it took to return home soon, no matter the obstacles.

“Thank you! Thank you so much, really!” you exclaimed sincerely, bowing deeply as your body allowed.

Iruka nodded with a kind smile, then waved them off with a small gesture.

You straightened slowly, watching him for a few more seconds as he returned to his desk, where a pile of documents awaited his attention.

---

The training ground was empty, bathed in the golden light of dawn. The air was warm and calm, and the only sounds breaking the silence were birdsong among the trees and the steady hum of cicadas.

You took a few steps forward, curiosity pounding in your chest. Why would Iruka have called you so early? Perhaps, you thought with a flicker of hope, he already had news about your village.

The teacher stood before you, arms crossed, his expression serious. A few meters behind him, three ninjas with the Leaf emblem on their protectors flanked an elderly man dressed in white and red robes. His very presence commanded respect—it was the Third Hokage.

The air seemed to thicken as you recognized him. You hurriedly bowed deeply, your heart pounding in your chest. It wasn’t common for a Genin to be summoned before someone of such rank, much less in such a personal manner.

“So this is the kunoichi who came down from the mountains, Iruka,” the Hokage said, his voice measured but firm, eyes fixed on you. “Lift your head, young lady.”

You obeyed immediately, trying your best to appear calm. The Hokage stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back.

“Iruka has told me what happened to you… and to your village,” he said gravely. The wrinkles on his face, marked by the years, gave way to a small wart on the right side of his nose, adding to his distinguished appearance.

“The Hidden Village in the Mountains…” he continued, taking a slow puff from his pipe before exhaling a faint cloud of smoke. “It is a young village, recently established. Because of its remote location, communications with it have always been scarce, though we did exchange some messages in the past. I suppose, given your clan’s position, you already knew that, didn’t you, child?”

You nodded silently, holding back the tremor in your lips. The Hokage inclined his head slightly, watching you with a mix of pity and caution.

“The recent extermination of your village,” he said, each word measured with solemnity, “is something I have only just learned of. Yet we received no message… no warning. No messenger bird, no emergency seal. It’s as if they simply vanished.”

Silence hung heavily after his words. The elderly man exhaled the last wisp of smoke before speaking again. “I will send a small team to investigate what happened,” he announced gravely. “We cannot ignore the fact that a hidden village has been destroyed within the borders of the Land of Fire.”

His eyes narrowed, as if carefully weighing the gravity of what he was about to say.

“However,” he continued, “you must understand that such an investigation will take time.”

You nodded again, biting your lower lip with anxiety. For the first time since the events, it felt like someone was taking what happened seriously.

“In return,” he said, walking slowly toward you, “I will need something from you.”

Though his gaze was compassionate, there was no mistaking it: this was not a request—it was an order in the guise of an offer.

“Until we have concrete news about your village and the fate of your clan, you will remain in Konoha and serve as a ninja of this village,” he declared solemnly. “You will be provided with temporary housing and assigned to a team appropriate to your rank. You will train, complete missions, and follow our laws like any other Leaf shinobi.”

“Consider this an opportunity,” the Hokage added, his tone softening. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Hokage-sama! Thank you very much,” you responded, bowing respectfully, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Good,” he nodded, a faint smile on his lips, before turning to one of the men standing nearby. With a simple motion of his hand, he called him forward.

The man stepped forward, slightly bowing his head. He didn’t appear to be more than thirty. A thin scar ran across his right cheek, and his long, straight black hair was partially tied back with a metal pin that glinted in the sunlight. His dark, analytical eyes rested on you, scanning you from head to toe without a word.

“This is Tsuji-sensei,” the Hokage said, his tone calm but authoritative. “He will be evaluating your abilities. Before we assign you to a team, we need to ensure your training as a Genin meets the standards of Konoha.”

Your breath quickened slightly, but you managed to stay composed.

“An evaluation?” you asked, keeping your eyes fixed on the man who continued to watch you with cold scrutiny.

“That’s right,” Tsuji finally replied, his voice low and controlled, tinged with distant respect. “A combat test. Nothing deadly, of course. But enough to determine if you deserve to be called a ninja.”

“A fight? Against you?” you managed to say, surprised.

“Exactly.” The man crossed his arms.

The Hokage interrupted with a gesture of his hand, his gaze fixed on both of you.

“The test will begin immediately,” he declared solemnly, exhaling a cloud of smoke from his pipe. “Start!”

There was no time to think. Tsuji moved the instant the Hokage’s words faded into the air. His arm shot up, sending a kunai flying with a speed and precision that was barely trackable by the eye.

Your body reacted instinctively. You felt the metallic whizz of the weapon near your ear and the sharp impact… but what it struck wasn’t your flesh. A log appeared at the last moment, stopping the kunai and sending a cloud of white smoke into the air.

Your body reacted on instinct. You felt the metallic whiz brush past your ear and the sharp impact of the weapon… but what it struck wasn’t your flesh. A log appeared at the same instant, stopping the kunai and sending a cloud of white smoke into the air.

From the high branches of a tree, you made yourself visible, your breathing controlled and your gaze fixed on him.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from a Leaf ninja,” you replied calmly, though adrenaline throbbed in your neck.

Tsuji didn’t waste a moment. He launched himself toward you, moving at a speed almost impossible to track, even with trained eyes. The ground cracked beneath his feet, and his silhouette vanished in the blink of an eye.

“Too slow!” his voice came from behind you. You spun around just in time to intercept his strike with your forearm, though the impact sent you stumbling back several steps, kicking up dust around you.

His movements were clean, precise, effortless. You aimed a punch at his jaw, hoping to land a hit—but his fist shot straight to your stomach, hurling you backward.

The air whooshed from your lungs with a strangled gasp as the blow connected with your abdomen. Pain flared like fire under your skin as your body flew backward, landing heavily on the ground. The damp earth softened the fall, but the impact was enough to numb your arms.

“Too predictable,” Tsuji’s voice sounded calm, almost bored, as he twirled a kunai between his fingers. “Strength without strategy won’t help you on a real mission.”

You gritted your teeth and struggled to your feet, your breath ragged.

“Then I’ll use more than just strength,” you whispered, your hand flying to the hilt of your katana.

The metallic hiss of steel sliding from its sheath echoed sharply across the field. Chakra began to surge through your body and into the blade, which glowed with an electric blue light.

“Jutsu: Denkō Yaiba!”

The next instant was a flash. You lunged at him with the speed of lightning, electricity crackling around you. Tsuji barely had time to raise his arm to block, but the impact of the electric chakra forced him several meters back, his feet kicking up dust.

“Much better,” he admitted, flexing his fingers before vanishing from sight again.

The sound of his movements surrounded you: rustling leaves, a whisper of wind, the rasp of steel. You swung your katana in a downward arc just in time to parry his attack from above. Sparks flew as the blades collided, illuminating your faces for a fraction of a second.

“Your reflexes are good, but you’re still holding back,” he growled, pushing you back.

The ground creaked beneath your boots as you slid one back to maintain your balance. You drew a deep breath, letting the air ease the sting in your ribs. Tsuji advanced again, moving so fast you could barely make out his silhouette.

As he lunged at you, you spun on your heel and, in one fluid motion, swung your katana in an upward slash. The blade whistled through the air, striking Tsuji’s kunai and deflecting its trajectory just before it could reach you. You seized the moment: your knee shot up into his abdomen, driving in with force.

The impact was sharp. Tsuji let out a muffled grunt and staggered back, bending slightly, though his eyes still burned with adrenaline.

“That… was better,” he admitted, straightening with a wry smile.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your lungs on fire, sweat trickling down your neck. Your hands felt numb from the vibration of your last attack; the lightning jutsu still crackled faintly along your right arm, but your body was starting to fail. Your legs trembled, and the ground beneath your feet seemed to sway, as if the air had grown heavier.

Tsuji noticed immediately.

“You’re running low on chakra,” he observed calmly. His voice was steady, but his eyes held relentless determination. Before you could catch your breath, he vanished from sight. A second later, you felt the impact on your back: a clean, direct kick that threw you off balance and sent you rolling across the ground. You sprang to your feet, forcing your body to respond.

“I can’t fall now!”

You channeled the little chakra you had left into your legs and charged at him, sword raised. The blade cut through the air with precision, but Tsuji sidestepped with a slight movement, deflecting your strike with the back of his kunai. He took advantage of the opening and struck your abdomen with an open palm, knocking the air from your lungs in a single gasp.

The blow sent you backward. You dropped to your knees, katana trembling in your hand. You tried to rise, but a shadow fell over you: Tsuji was already at your side, his kunai stopped mere centimeters from your neck.

“This is as far as we go,” he said neutrally, without a trace of mockery.

You froze for a moment, chest heaving. Slowly, you lowered your gaze and released the katana. It clattered to the ground with a metallic sound.

Silence stretched across the training field. Only the wind, rustling the leaves of the trees, filled the space between you.

Tsuji withdrew his kunai and stepped back.

“You have good technique and reflexes, but you lack endurance,” he said, his tone softer. “If you learn to manage your chakra expenditure, you could be a formidable opponent.”

Iruka, observing from a distance alongside the Hokage, let out a sigh. The elderly man nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on you.

“That was a good effort,” the Hokage said, taking a few steps forward. “Losing doesn’t always mean failing. You’ve shown courage, discipline… and potential.”

You lifted your head, still gasping from the exertion.

“Hokage-sama… I’ll try again,” you managed to say, your voice strained.

The elder smiled with a hint of warmth.

“You will have your chance. From today onward, you will be a kunoichi of Konoha. You will train under Tsuji’s supervision. Learn from him.”

Your eyes widened in amazement. Despite the pain and exhaustion, a hopeful smile spread across your face. You bowed deeply.

“Yes, Hokage-sama. I won’t let you down.”

Tsuji crossed his arms and nodded.

“Then, welcome, rookie. Starting tomorrow, we’ll train until you can defeat me.”

“I will, sensei,” you replied firmly, bowing your head in respect as you picked up your katana from the ground. The blade still gleamed in the morning sunlight, faint traces of dirt marking its edge.