"Are you really okay? Doesn't it hurt?" The question was hardly surprising. They had started at a slower pace due to the Saiyan's condition, but once it became clear he could keep going without issue, the team gradually increased their speed. "We can go slower if you want."
"It does hurt, but I can manage." Between jumps, Goten's face twisted slightly in pain. Still, he gave Sakura a faint smile. "The thing is, you're just too slow… that's why I can keep up."
A vein pulsed at her temple. Sakura tried to ignore the comment entirely, keeping her gaze fixed on the next rooftop where they would land.
Asuma and Kurenai could have moved much faster if they wanted, but not Sakura, who was pushing herself to the limit. She was surprised that Goten could keep pace. Worse, in his obliviousness, he had just rubbed it in. Perhaps that was why she felt so offended—it was a direct comment, though entirely innocent.
"Good for you. Too bad you need to lean on me to keep going; otherwise, you could be ahead. But that's not the case, so you'll just have to deal with it."
Ha! She thought she had jabbed him in the chest—literally—in that huge, fresh wound.
"Actually, I can fly, but Kakashi-sensei said I needed to be accompanied." Goten wasn't trying to be obnoxious; every word was spoken with complete sincerity, though his recklessness was far from harmless.
"Too bad you can't fly, Sakura. It would be so much easier and faster, don't you think?—"
"Focus! We're not in a safe zone!"
Thanks to that intuitive female sense men rarely understand, Kurenai noticed the corner of Sakura's face twisting into a grimace. Their mission was to get Goten alive to the hospital; she didn't need to harm him along the way. And yet, Kurenai was right—they were far from safe.
The small team leapt from rooftop to rooftop in the heart of the village, amidst smoke columns, flying shurikens and kunai, sporadic explosions damaging buildings, and skirmishes between shinobi, all blending into blurred gray streaks in the air. The familiar metallic clang of battle rang out repeatedly.
"This is wrong..." Frustration overwhelmed Asuma. He would have given anything to break formation and help his friends in trouble. He gripped his chakra blades tightly, which Kurenai noticed.
"Don't even think about it! You know the objective. We have to trust our teammates—they'll handle it…"
"I know, but that doesn't stop many from dying in the process…"
"That's war. Our task is something else right now."
They didn't exchange a glance, a gesture, or a comforting word. Silence settled the matter. Both knew it had to be this way.
Sakura, on the other hand, had never experienced anything like this. Her mind raced uncontrollably, overworked and overstimulated. No matter how fast they moved, her eyes had enough time to catch fleeting yet unpleasant images along the way, seared into her memory for a long time.
"Why are they attacking each other?" The question seemed naïve, but it left a bitter taste for the shinobi. "I didn't think this was happening while Trunks and I were fighting. It doesn't make sense. They shouldn't be doing this."
The twelve-year-old boy, gravely injured, risked his life for people who were killing each other indiscriminately—village versus village, nation versus nation, clan versus clan, belief versus belief.
"I don't know." Kurenai lowered her gaze, feeling embarrassed and miserable beyond recall. "I guess… that's just how humans are… incredibly stupid…"
...
"If Goten were here," the Saiyan ran a hand along the back of his neck, tilting it to stretch, "he'd probably dare me to break it with my head. And that fool would probably try it."
"Don't do anything stupid. The ANBU couldn't bring it down for nothing."
He ignored Kakashi and was about to take off when Ino grabbed the hem of his gi firmly, forcing him to stop and turn around.
"Be careful, okay?" The blonde couldn't hide her worry. She knew how powerful Trunks was, but after seeing what had happened to Goten, she wasn't so calm. She feared for him.
"Don't worry, I'll keep that in mind." He turned his back; otherwise, he couldn't say it while looking her in the eye. He would never let Ino notice his flushed face. "Remember, you promised me ice cream… so I have to go back. I'm obligated."
Without another word, he slowly ascended toward the massive purple cube. What he didn't know was that he had left Ino even more flustered than he was.
"Now that you mention it… I could go for some ice cream."
"Y-yeah, Choji… whatever you say…"
...
"Damn it, what's going on here?"
The scene was strange. Behind the translucent energy barrier, a dense forest stretched as far as the eye could see, concealing the battle within. The trees looked grim, with thick, opaque trunks twisted into a tangled maze, creating a gloomy and depressing atmosphere throughout the area.
The boy landed slowly, close to the four ANBU keeping watch, startling them slightly despite his caution. They recognized him immediately; the elite Konoha ninja were already aware of the powers of the two children.
"How's it going?"
"Hard to tell. We haven't been able to observe anything for a while."
"I see…"
The Saiyan closed his eyes, focusing on the energy around him. He noticed that the old man's chakra was diminished, though still impressively high—certainly far above most shinobi. Then he sensed Orochimaru's nauseating chakra, also reduced but slightly higher than the old man's. Finally, he detected two other energies, stronger than any chakra he had ever sensed in the shinobi world, seemingly untouched despite how far the battle had gone.
"Why do I sense more than two chakras? There are two enormous energies, different from the rest—they don't seem to have suffered any battle fatigue."
"It's Orochimaru's forbidden technique." If the situation weren't so serious, Trunks might have joked about the ANBU's cat-shaped mask. For some reason, he was reminded of Master Karin. "Let's just say he used it to bring the last two Hokages back to life…"
"What? That's impossible!"
"No, it's not. It's complicated to explain—I don't even fully understand how it works—but with this jutsu, he can restore the soul of the deceased and force it into a living body as a vessel. Apparently, he can even make them act under his twisted will…"
Trunks' face was pure shock. It wasn't the resurrection itself that amazed him, but the method.
"This can't be. I thought Enma-sama controlled the flow of souls, deciding who went to heaven or hell. How could this damn man bring them back at will? He shouldn't have that ability! Could it be that in this dimension, things work differently?"
Nothing could be further from the truth. The Other World exists in the Ninth Universe as it does in the Seventh and the others. They all function the same way.
"Anyway, that doesn't matter much right now." He shook his head, making a few strands of blond hair sway. Not without reason, those gravity-defying spikes always stayed in place, no matter what. "You should leave here; you could get hurt."
"Don't even think about it, kid!" The ANBU leader's voice was stern. "You don't seem to know who we are. We're not ordinary shinobi; we're ANBU Hunters, elite ninja who—"
He stopped mid-sentence, surprised as Trunks crossed his eyes and mimicked the movement of his lips.
"I know that story. And yet, here you are, powerless." He stopped goofing around and fixed the man with his jade-like gaze. "Seriously, leave. I don't know if I can take that thing down with just my strength or if I'll have to do something more dangerous."
It was humiliating—not just for a thirteen-year-old boy to order them around, but for the mocking gesture he had made. He'd talk to Asuma later about giving them ten thousand squats or something, assuming the boy felt like doing them.
"Fine. We entrust you with the Third." He said no more. With a hand gesture, the rest vanished along with the leader in perfect synchronization.
Trunks' boots cracked the red tiles underfoot. Small stones hovered from his ki, which was rising invisibly. His golden aura wasn't yet visible, but his suffocating presence threatened to erupt at any moment.
No shinobi could approach him; any who tried would meet the same fate as that enormous Mr. Satan who challenged Cell.
He pressed his fingertips onto the strange purple surface, slow and delicate, as if touching ice. With just that, he dented it slightly, distorting it. Two energies repelled each other—positive and negative, ki and chakra. The chakra of the barrier was clearly malevolent.
Suddenly, fierce flames erupted from the surface, threatening to engulf Trunks in mere ashes…
"What the hell is happening?" Tayuya was the first to notice. She gaped inside the cube as the boy placed a hand on the barrier; the fire couldn't touch him. The flames parted around him, as if repelled by a magnetic force. His enormous ki acted as an invisible shield.
"It's solid," He concluded with a sly smile, noting that he still stood unscathed.
He showed neither fear nor surprise at the searing fire passing on either side. Trunks wasn't an idiot; he wouldn't have approached the strange cube without protecting himself with his energy. Perhaps careless Goten would have made a mistake.
Instead of striking immediately, he turned and flew away in the opposite direction, as if retreating from the scene.
"What's he trying to do?" Choji murmured from the combat arena, still recovering from complaining about having nothing to eat, claiming his nerves had boosted his appetite.
"He's planning to back off because he chickened out. Many glanced at Yamanaka with surprise, especially Hinata, whose wide, pearl-like eyes nearly popped out. She couldn't understand why Ino still doubted him after everything they had seen.
"Wow, you're being kind of bipolar with your boyfriend." Kiba looked away, trying not to laugh. He failed, and sooner rather than later, his usual toothy, mocking grin appeared. "First, you trust him completely throughout the fight, and now you jump to conclusions so quickly? You never change, Ino! And wasn't your obsession supposed to be Uchiha?" Akamaru, still lying on his head, seemed to strongly disagree.
"Grrrr! Woof woof!" (Buddy, I think that was sarcasm…)
"Ahh, what do you know, Akamaru?"
"Of course he didn't chicken out, idiot! Don't you know what sarcasm means?" Kiba jumped back as the explosive blonde placed her hands firmly on her hips and stomped a few feet in front of him. Even the small puppy hid his eyes beneath his pads. "You'd have to be incredibly stupid to actually think Trunks would chicken out after everything he's done." Then, changing the tone, Ino crossed her arms and spun around, her face as red as a tomato. "And I don't know what's with Sasuke. Yeah, I invited Trunks for ice cream, big deal! Why don't you mind your own business and give Akamaru more baths? It smells like wet dog here… unless, of course, it's you…"
When it came to arguments, Ino was hard to beat. And being a woman gave her the ultimate advantage—winning the dispute regardless of whether she was right.
"Woof…" (I told you, it was sarcasm) This time, the poor ninken practically whimpered.
Kiba went silent. He froze in place. Hinata felt a pang of pity for him, but it was exactly what he deserved for not knowing his limits—and for picking the wrong person to provoke.
"By the way, Kiba…" Kakashi's voice was as uninterested as ever. "I heard Hana got injured on a mission a month ago. How is she doing?"
"She's fine, nothing serious. She's fully recovered. Didn't you go to the Death Forest with my mother right after the exams?" He squinted, a little puzzled by the jounin's sudden interest. "But why ask now?"
"Ahh, nothing in particular…"
Trunks stopped midair, hovering almost a hundred meters from the massive purple cube atop the Hokage balcony. He turned to face his target. His intention was clear.
"I bet he's going to break it with his head." Lee winked one of his usual winks at Tenten, who couldn't understand why such foolishness excited the boys.
"If you say so…"
CRAAAACK!
It happened too fast. All the others saw was a thin golden line streaking through the air. Like a missile, the Saiyan launched headfirst at the barrier, slicing clean through it, leaving a five-meter-wide hole. The sound was unique; despite piercing two sides of the massive cube and smashing through several tree trunks along the way, it reduced them to splinters beneath his hard head.
Huge cracks radiated in every direction from the two newly-formed gaps, mercilessly carving every inch of the battered purple surface.
"Alright, once again. They'll attack in pairs, each targeting one of the four ninjas responsible for creating the barrier. Since there are six of you, Gai will handle the remaining one." He paused his instructions as the deafening noise of the enormous cube shattering like glass drowned everything out. The fragments collapsed one after another, evaporating without a trace. "Orochimaru will be my responsibility, though I doubt I'll accomplish much. Trunks will probably get involved anyway."
Minutes earlier…
The old man's breathing was ragged, uneven. He felt his joints stiffen, his limbs growing numb and cold as blood favored his vital organs, fighting to keep him alive just a little longer.
An endless darkness surrounded him, deepening the weight of his grim situation—not only the death that awaited him, but the chilling loneliness that would welcome him with open arms at his bitter end.
The blood in his chest felt frozen. The temptation crept in: to surrender, to stop breathing, to close his eyes and let all the suffering end once and for all for his battered, aging body.
But no—it would not be so. It was only a seductive thought, cursed and macabre as it was. He was the Third Hokage, the central pillar of the village, the father of the family called Konoha, which he had sworn to protect with his life until his final breath. If he failed, everyone would be in danger.
"How terrible it is to grow old! Just seeing you like this depresses me beyond words…" That cold, soulless voice hissed through the darkness, mocking. Depressed? Hardly. The damned Orochimaru savored his old sensei's slow decline.
The Infinite Darkness Jutsu was working exactly as intended. While Sarutobi struggled to defend himself, blocking what strikes he could, Hashirama and Tobirama attacked him relentlessly from the shadows.
"Yes, it is depressing." Still mocking, the pale demon licked his lips as he heard the occasional blows slip through Sarutobi's defenses. "In the grand design of life, you're nothing more than a meaningless footnote in the short tale of a miserable little cluster of huts called the Leaf Village…"
He licked his lips again, savoring the flecks of blood his old sensei spat, his head whipping side to side under the flurry of blows. A merciless beating that the cowardly snake only watched, relishing. It was grotesque, seeing the very men who had once been his teachers reduced to soulless weapons, mindlessly pummeling their former pupil at the Sannin's command.
"In time, the stone faces of the Hokages will crumble and be reduced to dust…" Had he known that two of those faces had recently been smashed into rubble, he would have burst out laughing.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The cruel speech seemed to light a fire in the Third. He straightened with resolve. His movements grew less erratic—sharper, stronger—using the armored plates on his forearms to block the blows of his unseen assailants.
"It seems you still don't understand. Konoha is much more than a handful of huts. Konoha is the place where shinobi are born each year. Where they grow, mature, fight, and die to protect their home." What still held the old man upright were the people who mattered to him—not just his children and grandchildren, but every villager. He could not fail them. He had to protect them at any cost. "Konoha is not those cold, unfeeling stone faces. They mean nothing. Konoha is its people. The ones who work to make the village better, who fight and give their lives to protect their home, their dreams, and their loved ones."
His strength was ebbing fast. Every blocked strike left his frail arms numb and begging to fall, desperate for rest from this torment. The vile Sannin only laughed in delight. "These people are precious to me. We share a home, we share life itself! Even without bonds of blood, each and every one of them is important to me… They are my family!"
Orochimaru could take no more—it was too amusing. He snapped his fingers, and the attacks stopped. The suffocating darkness dissolved at once. He had Tobirama release the genjutsu. He wanted the old man to look him in the eye before dying.
"I see that even if I kill you, those fools won't give up so easily. They'll keep trusting each other. You've taught them to be a pack of sentimental idiots like yourself…" His twisted smile stretched wider. His revolting, serpent-like tongue slid across his lips, savoring the sight of the exhausted elder, barely standing, struggling just to breathe. "But what about them? They don't fit a word of what you've said. They're not from here. What makes you think they share your ideals—or those of your people? If I were you, I wouldn't trust them. After all, they could erase this filthy village with a single breath. They're beasts who live to fight, proud to flaunt their strength, hungry for more power. If you ask me, they resemble me far more than they do you…"
CRAAAAACCK!
The sound was deafening. Without warning, massive chunks of wood came crashing down everywhere, forcing the onlookers to leap aside to avoid being crushed beneath tons of splintering timber.
Orochimaru snapped his head up, stunned, blinded briefly by the brilliant daylight pouring through two massive holes that had just been blasted open in the barrier. He could not believe how easily it had been destroyed.
"As far as I'm concerned, you're wrong." Sarutobi drew breath again, life returning to his expression as he watched enormous cracks spread across the purple cube, signaling its imminent collapse. "They may not have been born in Konoha. They may not even belong to this world. But without question, they are far more human than you. Don't you understand yet? Konoha is more than a place—it is its people. And now, they are Konoha too…"
It was like a dagger to Orochimaru. He realized he hadn't been fast enough—Goten and Trunks had completed their work far earlier than he thought. Just as the massive fragments of the barrier fell like shattered glass, his mission collapsed in every sense. His defeat weighed so heavily that he released the Edo Tensei with the six hand seals.
"Release!" He would use it another time. Even if immortal, the boys could kill them a thousand times over until someone sealed them away. He would not risk permanence.
In a brilliant column of light that shot skyward, the bodies of Hashirama and Tobirama crumbled into dust, leaving behind only two small, pitiful mounds of gray ash that partially covered the corpses of Zaku and Kin—the Sound genin sacrificed for the jutsu.
Sarutobi's face twisted in disgust and grief, unable to comprehend how heartless his once-beloved student had become, discarding people like trash for his dark ambitions.
"We'll meet again, sensei…"
Pooof!
A puff of smoke—and he was gone, along with the stunned Sound Four, who still couldn't fathom how in the hell the barrier had been destroyed.
...
It was impossible to ignore it all. Not just the explosions, the chaos, and the confusion, but the familiar faces that, in fleeting glimpses, Asuma and Kurenai recognized as they pressed forward without pause or hesitation.
They were comrades-in-arms, colleagues—friends! Some had even been childhood acquaintances. How could they not feel miserable, seeing those very people in danger?
Kakashi's well-known words hammered at their consciences without mercy. They felt little better than scum, forcing themselves to look away and not stop to lend a hand in battle.
Still, the dilemma weighed more heavily in favor of Goten. Hatake had been right—they couldn't leave him alone, not even with Sakura. He could easily fall victim to an attack. After all, any nation would be eager to eliminate someone like him.
KLAAANG!
A shuriken whizzed past Sakura's face, only to be deflected at the last instant by Asuma's right blade in an unorthodox, desperate motion.
They immediately halted on the rooftop of a concrete building. Three shinobi from Sunagakure had intercepted their advance, appearing in a blur of movement before the group.
"How curious. Wasting two jōnin in battle for a worthless, injured boy? Is he the Hokage's grandson, perhaps?" the leader mocked. He clearly suspected otherwise, but there was no denying the boy had to be important if he was receiving such protection in the middle of a war.
The man was as tall as Asuma, but clearly outweighed him by several kilos—and Asuma was no weakling. Beneath that gray tactical vest was no doubt a body built of muscle, a taijutsu user for sure. Just looking at him made Sakura swallow nervously—and worse, he was clutching a pair of bloodied gauntlets in his hands.
Despite his much smaller frame, the shinobi to the left was somehow even more terrifying (though that seemed impossible at first glance). Wrapped head to toe in bandages like Dosu, he had only one eye visible, glowing red like Kurenai's, but with a cruel, feral glare. His fingers were bristling with shuriken—he was clearly the one who had launched the opening attack.
And finally, the shinobi to the right bore an unsettling resemblance to Iruka—right down to the identical horizontal scar across the bridge of his nose. Sakura froze at the sight, stunned by how much he looked like a twisted, evil twin. Only his Suna uniform, lighter skin tone, and shorter, darker hair set him apart.
There was no need for words—Asuma already knew the giant in the middle was his opponent.
KLAAANG!
And indeed, the brute wasted no time lunging forward with a devastating straight punch. Asuma blocked with both blades.
"Damn it—this guy's even stronger than he looks!" That single strike rattled his joints, driving his feet deep into the concrete rooftop as if it were nothing.
Meanwhile, the other two shinobi darted around the struggling pair, moving in on Kurenai with a simultaneous strike.
"Sakura, fall back! Don't leave Goten's side!" Kurenai shouted without turning, intercepting both enemies' blows with her kunai. Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal in a vicious rhythm.
They weren't just fast—they were savage. Nothing like the shinobi they had faced in the stadium. Just those two strikes left deep notches in her kunai, forcing her to discard them and switch to another.
KABOOOM!
But she wasn't foolish. With remarkable precision, Sakura had slid a hand across the battered kunai before tossing it, attaching an explosive tag just in time.
Goten's eyes widened as Sakura grabbed him by the waist, leaping backward. It didn't help much—the cursed boots barely let him move a couple of meters.
"You should take those things off!" she cried desperately, but he didn't seem to hear her. His eyes were fixed on the fight in awe.
"Where are you hiding, bitch?" spat the Iruka lookalike, unable to see through the thick cloud of dust and debris left by the blast.
The insult reached Asuma's ears, sending his rage boiling over. His strikes grew so violent that his opponent was forced on the defensive, the Suna brute struggling to block every furious blow with his gauntlets.
"There you are!"
CRAAASH!
Sakura gasped in horror. Through the thinning smoke, she saw the shinobi drive a kunai deep into Kurenai's abdomen. Her crimson eyes went wide, her breath ragged as thick strings of blood dripped down her chin, until—
Poof!
A heavy wooden log appeared in her place, covered in nearly a dozen explosive tags.
The shinobi's triumphant grin twisted instantly into sheer panic. He cursed himself for falling for such a basic substitution. Leaving the kunai lodged in the log, he sprang backward as fast as he could, desperate to escape his impending fate…
KABOOOOOM!
He didn't make it.
Sakura was supposed to be the one protecting Goten—but instead, he wrapped an arm firmly around her waist and leapt with her to the nearest rooftop. The others did the same.
The trick had been so sudden that Sakura hadn't reacted in time. When she realized the Saiyan was carrying her under his arm like a pillow, embarrassment burned through her.
"G-Goten, you can let me—"
She never finished. He dropped her without a shred of care, and, caught off guard, she landed on her hands and knees, feeling utterly useless.
She stood quickly, frowning when droplets of water splashed onto her skin. Glancing at the sky, she realized it wasn't raining. Then she looked back toward the battleground.
No wonder everyone had jumped away—the blast was devastating. The rooftop was shattered, riddled with cracks, ready to collapse at the slightest touch. Shattered metal plates were strewn across the wreckage, remnants of the massive water tank that had burst like a flimsy balloon. Over twenty thousand liters had been released in an instant—those were the droplets now dripping down her arms and shoulders.
Her heart was pounding, adrenaline surging through her veins, pushing every instinct of fight or flight into overdrive. But what really struck her was Goten's face. He didn't look normal.
"Goten, what's wrong?"
He didn't answer. For some reason, he looked deeply shaken. When Sakura followed his gaze, she understood.
She had only been looking at the destruction, but he had noticed what she had missed—the severed arm of the shinobi caught in the blast. It was all that remained of him.
And while they both stood there, stunned, the fight hadn't paused for even a moment.
"Let me go! Let me gooo!" screamed the bandaged shinobi, his single eye wide with pure horror as his head shook violently from side to side. His muffled voice cracked as his jaw thrashed against the wrappings stretched tight over his face.
Kurenai walked up behind him with eerie calm, her arm snaking around his neck to hold him still. In her other hand, she raised a kunai.
CRUSHHH!
The man's head fell backward as a relentless stream of blood poured from the deep gash in his throat. He collapsed to his knees before toppling face-first onto the cold concrete, limp and lifeless. A dark pool of blood spread steadily beneath his fallen body.
Kurenai had used her Demonic Illusion: Tree Binding Death (Magen: Jubaku Satsu). That was why her opponent hadn't moved a single inch—completely ensnared by the deadly genjutsu that made him believe he was trapped by a tree, its branches wrapping tightly around him and "holding" him in place. She made it look effortless, but in truth, it was a dangerous, high-level illusion.
Sakura understood it was a genjutsu. Goten, however, remained bewildered, unable to grasp why the man had simply "let himself" be killed.
SLAAAASH!
"ARRRGHHH!" Everything happened too fast. The fight was brutal and merciless. Asuma had just sliced off his opponent's hand clean at the wrist with one of his blades—so sharp, so precise, it didn't even need direct contact thanks to his mastery of channeling Wind Release chakra through them.
"Looks like they bit off more than they could chew." Asuma's tone shifted. When it was time to get serious, he was as ruthless as any jōnin. There was no trace of the laid-back man he usually was.
He tightened his grip on his left blade, fully intent on finishing the wounded shinobi, who had dropped to one knee but still glared defiantly, ready to fight with his remaining hand.
The enemy launched one last desperate strike—but it was abruptly stopped.
Zuuuummm!
Goten appeared right in front of him, grabbing his wrist firmly with his right hand, not letting him move an inch. With his left, he pressed a single finger to the shinobi's forehead.
BAAAAAMM!
And just like that, the fight was over. The wall of the building opposite them exploded the instant Goten's finger touched the man's head, as if it had been waiting for the signal. The shinobi's body was launched clean through the structure, crashing out the other side and embedding into the wall of the next building—completely unconscious, eyes rolled back.
Since both were tall, Goten had executed the move mid-air. He wasn't flying—it was just a simple jump. But the force was staggering. By the time the enemy's body finally stopped, Goten's feet had already landed back on the cracked concrete.
The instant he touched down, however, pain erupted across his chest. He let go of Asuma's wrist and staggered, clutching his wounded shoulder. The makeshift bandage of his torn dōgi darkened further with fresh blood.
He squeezed one eye shut from the pain, pressing his left hand hard against the bandage while bracing himself on one knee.
Asuma was left speechless. It had all happened so fast, he hadn't even seen it. Goten had stopped him dead in his tracks with a grip so overwhelming it felt like his arm might snap like a twig if the boy wished it. He hadn't even caught how Goten struck the shinobi, but the result was devastating. And all of this—while injured.
It was one thing to witness the Saiyan's power. It was another entirely to feel it firsthand.
"S-sorry… but killing him wasn't necessary," Goten said with a pained grin. "I-I think losing a hand was enough…"
And indeed, despite the savage force, Goten hadn't killed him. The shinobi was simply out cold, destined to stay that way for a long while. Goten hadn't liked seeing the other two die, so he couldn't allow another. It wasn't in his nature. Still, he didn't blame the jōnin—he understood they were doing their duty to protect him and Sakura.
"Unbelievable… the way he can still fight in that state," Kurenai muttered, unable to settle on a single emotion. Amazement, laughter, fear, admiration—all of it swirled together, until only one feeling remained: relief. Relief that he was a good person.
The hurried steps of Sakura brought everyone back to the moment.
"Goten! What part of 'stay with me' didn't you understand?" She wasn't angry—just worried. She knelt beside him and hugged him gently, careful of his wound. "You didn't have to risk yourself—they could handle it. And now you're bleeding again!"
"Y-yeah, I-I said I was sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to smile through the pain as Sakura fussed over him, dabbing her dress against a thin stream of blood running down his chest.
"It doesn't matter now. The hospital's just a block away—we've practically made it."
She slid his left arm over her shoulders and lifted him carefully, helping him walk the rest of the way.
The two jōnin couldn't help but chuckle. The young kunoichi seemed far less shaken by the Saiyan's abilities than they were. Typical—genin tended to adapt faster than adults.
BROOOMMM!
The sound of crumbling stone startled them all. It wasn't another attack—just the rooftop of the adjacent building collapsing under its own ruined weight. That's how damaged it had been.
"No one says a word about this. You saw nothing," Kurenai warned sharply. Her stern look quickly faded as she bit her lip, a bead of sweat running down her brow. "Inoichi is going to kill me if he finds out…"
"…Wait, you mean—?"
She only nodded.
Asuma covered his face with one hand.
Sakura, however, smirked mischievously. A quick glance around told her exactly where they were. The demolished rooftop belonged to none other than the Yamanaka flower shop.