Some enemies wore masks.
Others wore uniforms.
But the most dangerous ones—
—wore nothing at all.
They were erased from records, scrubbed from memory, and buried beneath "classified" designations that even the Hokage wouldn't touch.
And Prototype-0 was one of them.
Arashi had spent the last two nights reconstructing every chakra signature stored in the Root budget files Shikaku gave him. He'd cross-referenced them against known clan patterns, filtered them through seal theory, and compared chakra residue patterns from the remnants of Lab Nine.
Only one sequence didn't belong.
It pulsed like Uzumaki chakra.
But fragmented.
Unstable.
Too sharp to be natural.
It was either artificial… or broken.
And it was active.
Somewhere in the Konoha orphan quarter—the district reserved for war-born orphans, retired shinobi widows, and those the village wanted to forget without burying.
That's where the trail led.
That's where Arashi was going.
The orphan quarter smelled like damp wood and burnt rice. The houses were clean but worn. Patched roofs. Cracked lanterns. But nothing out of place.
Until you looked.
No children played in the street.
No elders gossiped on balconies.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
Like the district was holding its breath.
Arashi passed an abandoned dumpling shop, then turned down a narrow alley.
The chakra signature pulsed again—weak, but consistent.
He stopped outside a building barely two stories tall.
Windows barred.
Door sealed with a broken latch.
No sign of occupancy.
But the chakra was inside.
Arashi pushed the door open slowly.
No traps.
No wards.
Just silence.
And then, from the corner—
A voice.
Small.
Soft.
"You're not supposed to be here."
He turned slowly.
She was sitting in the far corner, knees pulled to chest.
No older than ten.
Black hair.
White shift.
Eyes that weren't quite Byakugan—but close.
And her chakra… it rippled in a way that shouldn't exist in a human.
"Are you Himari?" Arashi asked.
She tilted her head.
"I used to be."
His heartbeat slowed.
"How long have you been here?"
"I don't know."
"Who brings you food?"
"No one."
"Do you remember your parents?"
"I don't think I had any."
Arashi stepped closer.
She didn't flinch.
Didn't blink.
Didn't react.
He knelt beside her.
"You're sick," he said quietly.
She looked at him. "No."
"You have too many chakras in your body. They're fighting."
"That's normal."
"No," he said again. "That's wrong."
She lowered her head.
"I'm not supposed to exist."
He felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Her body temperature was too low.
Her breathing too steady.
It was like someone had programmed her to survive.
Not live.
Just… function.
And beneath her collarbone, faint but visible, was a chakra seal.
Arashi reached toward it.
"I'm going to look at something, alright?"
She nodded.
He touched the seal.
His chakra flared—and recoiled.
Rejection seal.
Designed to burn anyone not keyed to Danzo's chakra frequency.
She had been tagged with a kill switch.
And worse—
—her chakra nodes had been shaped.
Artificially. Like molded clay.
It wasn't just fusion.
It was engineering.
"How long have you known about me?" she asked.
"Only a few days."
She nodded. "I think Root stopped coming last year."
"Why?"
"I started asking questions."
Of course.
That was the danger.
Not her power.
Her awareness.
"I can't leave," she said. "If I do, something happens."
"What?"
"I don't know. But my head gets hot."
Trigger seal. Probably tied to range.
Danzo hadn't just locked her away—he'd turned her into a containment hazard.
Arashi sat back.
He needed help.
Real help.
And only one person in the village had enough sealing knowledge to assist.
That night, Arashi knocked on a door he hadn't approached in years.
The Namikaze estate.
Minato answered, hair tousled, eyes tired.
He looked at Arashi for a long moment.
"Didn't think you'd ever visit."
"I need her."
Minato stepped aside.
Inside, Kushina was seated on the floor, humming to herself while stitching a small red baby blanket.
Her pregnancy was showing now.
She looked up, and for once, didn't smile.
"What happened?" she asked.
Arashi explained everything.
She listened in silence.
And when he finished, she stood.
"You're bringing her here," Kushina said.
"That's dangerous."
"She's a child."
"She's a weapon."
"She's both," Kushina said. "But she's still a child."
Minato looked between them.
"This will put a target on this house," he said.
Kushina nodded.
"Good," she said.
"I want them to come."
—
That night, Arashi carried Himari in his arms, wrapped in a chakra suppression seal.
She didn't resist.
She didn't speak.
But she gripped his sleeve with one hand.
As if afraid she'd vanish again.
Kushina had already cleared a room, covered the walls with binding runes, and prepped medical chakra threads.
Minato watched from the doorway, arms crossed.
"You trust me?" Arashi asked him.
"No."
Minato smiled faintly. "But I trust her."
Kushina gestured to the mat.
"Put her down."
"Be gentle," Arashi whispered.
"I always am."
The seal unwrapped.
The chakra signature flared—
—and Kushina's hands moved faster than Arashi could track.
Runes shimmered.
Chakra bent.
And Himari—
—for the first time in hours—
—gasped.
Like someone had just dropped her into the world again.
Kushina's hands slowed.
The room glowed red, then faded.
"I've suppressed the kill switch," she said. "Temporarily."
Arashi knelt beside Himari.
She blinked at him.
"I feel… warm."
"You're safe now."
"Will they come for me?"
Arashi touched her forehead.
"If they do," he said,
"I'll show them what happens when you hurt the wrong child."
—
Outside, on a nearby rooftop, a Root operative crouched in the shadows.
Watching.
Recording.
He tapped his seal once.
Far away, in an underground hall beneath Konoha's old police station, Danzo received the message.
No words.
Just chakra imprint.
He stared at the pulse.
Then closed his eyes.
"Prepare the fallback protocol," he said to the shadows.
"Which one, sir?" a voice asked.
Danzo smiled.
"The one we never expected to use."
—
Back at the estate, Arashi sat beside Himari's sleeping form, his blade laid across his knees.
Minato handed him a cup of tea.
"Are you going to kill him?" Minato asked.
"Eventually."
"Danzo won't die easily."
"Neither will I."
Minato nodded. "Then make sure she never sees it."
Arashi looked at the child.
She was breathing slow. Steady.
Her chakra was no longer screaming.
And for the first time in her life—
—she was dreaming.
Not programming.
Not silence.
A dream.
And that made everything worth it.