A year passed like a blur of smoke on the wind.
The Hidden Leaf was no stranger to war, but this… this was something else. Two fronts, a thousand fires, and an entire generation shoved headfirst into the storm. And somehow, amidst it all, my team had flourished.
We were still an odd little pack with me, Asuma, Kurenai, Guy, and Might Duy; now an official chunin and permanent squad member. It had not taken long after his first few missions with us for the Hokage to recognize what the rest of us already knew: Duy might have been overlooked for years. My dad nearly regretted giving him the promotion after Duy's emotional outburst, but a quick nudge from me about celebrating had him, Guy, and Asuma doing a hundred laps around the village.
The missions came fast and plentiful for those of us who were not deployed to the front. Dozens of D-Ranks, over twenty C-Ranks, and a few small-scale skirmishes that flirted with B-Rank difficulty. None of us complain. For Duy, Guy, and Asuma, those daily D-Rank missions became extra training sessions. For Kurenai and me, they were a chance to study and observe.
And all that work had paid off.
Asuma could now activate the First Gate, the Gate of Opening. It left him winded, but it let him keep up with Guy in short bursts. Guy himself had reached the Third Gate, the Gate of Life, and could hold it for just over a minute. In that short window, he could easily take down an average chunin and even injure a jonin if they did not take him seriously.
Kurenai growth had surprised me the most. She had taken my lessons to heart, layering subtle Genjutsu into mundane actions; eye movement, hand twitches, even footsteps, whatever that was simple enough to be generally ignored, yet throw off her opponent's actions. Her illusions were nearly invisible now, like falling into a spider's web you did not realize was there until it was far too late. Using my Yang Chakra-enhanced technique, her strength with had improved too. She still could not break boulders, but she could stagger a chunin with a single well-placed strike.
As for me… I kept working. Lava Release was still a struggle, but now it was mine. The molten chakra obeyed me, slowly, imperfectly, but without hesitation. Spears, waves, traps of sticky magma... it was crude, but effective. And best of all, I had a secret technique that my Lava Clone could use which would be a game changer.
The Hidden Stone had retreated. The Leaf's forces had driven them back to the open terrain of the Grass Country, but the fighting had slowed down yet also became bloodier as stealth was much more difficult. Still, Onoki was as stubborn as the stone his village represented, so the Stone was still struggling against us.
The Cloud… well, they were quieter now. Not because they lacked the will, but rather because they learned the cost of direct confrontation. Early in the war, they tried to strike hard through the northern forests, and it might have worked, if not for Minato. With the Flying Thunder God, he could strike anywhere and vanish before he could be surrounded. A, the son of the Third Raikage, had challenged him and came close to killing him too, if the Cloud's rumors were true, but the reality was that A had not even been able to touch him.
But Minato wasn't just fast, he was smart. After he injured A badly, he moved through the battlefield like a reaper, taking down Cloud ninjas; his monkier as the Yellow Flash came earlier than before, though they were still just whispers for now. Since then, the Cloud had withdrawn to the borders of Hot Springs Country, proud and smoldering but unwilling to engage directly. They fought any Leaf ninja who crossed the line, but they would not step past it themselves.
Unfortunately, it had been officially confirmed that the Third Kazekage had vanished and, to make matters worse, they blamed us. Not the Stone, not the Cloud, but us.
Another front. Another enemy. Another war. It was never ending.
~~~~~~~~~
The Hokage's office was quiet when I entered, unusually so. The sun filtered through the tall windows, catching in the tendrils of pipe smoke curling from the desk. My father sat behind it, a scroll in hand, but his eyes were distant.
Danzo stood across from him, face half in shadow as always, like even the daylight refused to claim him. Homura and Koharu sat on the couch nearby, whispering occasionally; their expressions tight and pinched with judgment. They were once my father's teammates, supposedly advisors, but they just felt like relics.
I bowed. "Akari Sarutobi, reporting as ordered."
My father looked up and offered a tired smile. "At ease, Akari."
I stood straight but relaxed slightly.
"You were summoned," he said, "because we're opening a new front. The Sand has declared war. They're using the disappearance of their Kazekage as justification, and their scouts are already moving through River Country."
Danzo's voice cut through the stillness of the office like a blade. "Given the Sand's reliance on poison, and Tsunade's continued deployment on the Rain front, Akari Sarutobi will be reassigned to the medical unit advancing into River Country. She is Tsunade's only known student. That makes her our most viable countermeasure."
He did not even look at me. Just stated it, like a fact.
Homura nodded curtly. "It's logical. With Tsunade unavailable, the girl is the next best option."
Koharu added, "And her presence might bolster morale. A Sarutobi treating the wounded; it sends a message."
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from responding. I was not a message or symbol. And I was not some bandage they could slap over a battlefield.
My father, no, the Hokage, with his official robes on, set his pipe down and exhaled slowly. "You're all operating on outdated information."
Danzo's eyes narrowed. "Meaning?"
Hiruzen leaned forward slightly, his voice level. "Akari has awakened a Kekkei Genkai."
The room stilled.
"Lava Release."
Homura's brow furrowed. "What?"
Koharu's voice rose an octave. "That's not… that's not a known Sarutobi ability."
I kept my face neutral, though I could feel their scrutiny like heat against my skin.
Danzo turned his full attention on me now, eyes hard. "You've kept this classified."
I did not flinch. "Yes. At the Hokage's order."
Hiruzen waved away the rising tension. "She's been training it in secret. Under my supervision. It is stable, controlled, and can be deployed effectively."
Danzo's expression soured. "To what degree of control?"
I gave him a smile that did not reach my eyes. "Enough to reshape the battlefield if necessary."
Homura muttered something under his breath. Koharu just stared, her lips pressed tight in disapproval and suspicion.
Danzo looked to Hiruzen. "Then I take it her assignment to the medical unit has changed."
Hiruzen nodded. "She'll still manage it, but I'm sending along a few extra people that can assist her, so she can operate with flexibility. She leads her own squad, with Might Duy to assume leadership when she's dispatched to independent missions. Her skill with antidotes may not be as strong as Tsunade, but she will still be your best counter to their poisons."
Danzo did not argue, but I could feel his distaste. He did not like plans that moved outside his control, but that suited me just fine.
"Dismissed," Hiruzen said, meeting my gaze for a brief moment, a look filled with something softer, almost like pride.
I turned and left without another word, the air behind me heavy with surprise, judgment, and recalculations. Let them recalculate and plot. The war was coming, and I had more than enough fire to meet it. By the time that this war was finished, I hoped to have enough strength that not even my father could control me anymore.
~~~~~~~
I stepped out of the Hokage Tower into the late afternoon sun, the weight of war pressing a little heavier on my shoulders than when I had gone in. River Country with my entire team, and under Danzo's command of all people.
I exhaled slowly and made my way through the village. The familiar sights grounding me like vendors hawking takoyaki, children playing with wooden kunai, ANBU hiding in the shadows high above. It was home... and I wondered how different it would be when I returned.
I found my team exactly where I expected them, our usual training field. Asuma and Guy were sparring under Duy's watchful eye while Kurenai was reading a medical book under a tree. I watched them for a while, knowing that this would be the last time that they were so relaxed for quite some time.
"Alright," I called out, loud enough to catch their attention. "Fun's over. I've got news."
They stopped mid-exchange, Guy's fist frozen a hair's breadth from Asuma's face. Duy, off to the side, wiped sweat from his brow with his sleeve, and Kurenai straightened as she put her book aside with that calm, composed grace she had grown into.
I waited until they'd all gathered around before speaking. "We're being deployed to the River Country front in two days."
Guy let out a loud cheer that startled a passing bird. "Yes! Finally! The flames of youth will burn across the battlefield!"
Asuma pumped a fist in the air. "Hell yeah! About time we got to prove ourselves. I'm going to make a name that echoes across the world!"
I raised a brow. "Just try not to die in the first week, alright?"
He grinned, cocky as ever. "Please. I've got you and Duy watching my back. What could go wrong?"
Kurenai did not say anything right away. Her crimson eyes searched mine, thoughtful. Concern lingered beneath her composed exterior, but there was no fear. Just quiet resolve.
Duy gave a solemn nod. "Our first duty is to protect each other. Nothing is more important."
There was a soft, proud smile tugging at my lips before I realized it. They were ready. Not perfect, but ready.
"Alright," I said. "Before we get into strategy, supply lists, and assignments, I think we've earned one last night of peace."
Guy blinked. "Wait, does that mean...?"
"Barbecue," I confirmed, and four voices whooped in response.
The smell of grilled meat and sizzling oil drifted out onto the street before we even stepped into Yakiniku Q. Our usual booth was ready in the back, thanks to the hostess who always saved it for us. After a year together, I had made sure we had a place to celebrate when it counted, and tonight was one of those nights.
We filed in with practiced ease. Duy beamed with pride, his footsteps light, while Guy practically bounced with excitement. Asuma was doing his best to contain his hunger and not drool as we got close; Duy's exercise routine had turned him into a bottomless pit when it came to food. Kurenai walked beside me, her expression calm, though I could feel the tension beneath it.
We took our seats, Duy sliding into place at the grill with an apron he somehow always had on hand. The first round of thin-sliced beef, pork, and vegetables arrived before we even got comfortable.
"Let the recovery of youthful energy begin!" Duy announced as he carefully arranged the meat with the reverence of a priest performing a ritual.
Guy raised a chopstick like a sword. "Yes, Father! This feast shall fuel the blazing fire within!"
"Just make sure it doesn't blaze out of your mouth tomorrow," Asuma muttered with a taunting smirk.
Kurenai and I slid a little farther down the booth, letting the boys hurl themselves into their reckless eating contest. Asuma was already red in the face from chewing too fast, while Guy looked like he was preparing for battle.
I let out a quiet laugh and sipped my tea. "Do you think they'll survive the meal?"
"Hard to say. But I'm not betting against Guy," Kurenai said with a soft smile. "He's like a bottomless pit when food is involved."
"And his pride is at stake," I added.
She nodded, then glanced at me. "It's strange… how natural this all feels now."
"A year will do that," I said, watching Duy enthusiastically cheer for both contenders. "Training together, bleeding together, nearly getting eaten by giant badgers together."
Kurenai chuckled. "That was your fault, by the way."
"Guilty," I said, grinning.
There was a pause between us, quiet but comfortable. She leaned on the table slightly, turning her head toward me.
"I'm glad we ended up on the same team."
I looked at her, then nodded once. "So am I."
She did not say anything else, but her smile lingered. I let the moment be what it was; warm, honest, and unspoken. A lot had changed in a year. Some things were still changing, and not all of it needed words.
"Twenty-one!" Asuma crowed, lifting his chopsticks like a trophy.
Guy slumped in defeat, sweat beading down his forehead. "My stomach has been… overwhelmed…"
"Victory is mine," Asuma said, leaning back smugly. "And as the winner, I demand dessert."
"You were getting dessert either way," I pointed out.
"Exactly. But now it feels earned."
I rolled my eyes and raised my hand to flag the waitress. After settling the bill, I tapped the table once for attention. They quieted instinctively.
"We leave in two days," I said. "Tomorrow is prep; I want to see everything that you want to take. Make sure you have your gear ready... kunai, shuriken, wire, smoke bombs. Double-check your medical supplies. And bring enough soldier pills and ration bars to last a week or two in the field."
They all nodded. No jokes now. No complaints.
"I want you at your best," I said. "We don't know what we're walking into."
Duy gave a firm nod. "We will be ready."
"Even me," Guy said, still holding his stomach.
"Especially you," I teased with a chuckle.
We stepped out into the warm summer night, full and satisfied. The scent of grilled meat and charcoal still clung to us faintly, and the lanterns along the road cast long shadows that danced at our feet. No one wanted to say it, but we all knew that this was probably our last night like this for a long time. So, instead of splitting up right away, we walked together. Five shadows moving as one down the stone-paved streets of Konoha.
Guy clung dramatically to Duy's back, groaning with theatrical agony. "Father… carry me home, for I am slain…"
"You'll survive," Asuma said, shoving him lightly in the shoulder. "You've had worse after lunch when Onee-chan takes over the afternoon spar."
Kurenai chuckled under her breath. I caught her glance but said nothing. Words were not needed tonight. Her house was the first of our stops.
When we reached the corner near the sakura trees, Kurenai slowed. "This is me," she said, turning to us. Her eyes lingered on me a heartbeat longer than the others.
"Sleep well," I said.
"You too."
She gave a small nod to the boys, then disappeared past the gate and into the shadows of her garden.
We walked on in a line, Asuma kicking a loose stone ahead of us like it was a game, while Duy lectured Guy gently on the importance of moderation between bursts of laughter. A few more blocks, and we reached the small house where the Might family lived. Duy shifted Guy higher onto his back as the boy had started to drift off mid-step.
"Thank you for the meal," Duy said earnestly. "It meant a lot."
"Make sure he drinks water before bed," I reminded him.
"He'll be ready by morning," Duy promised, and with a short bow, turned toward their home.
We watched until they vanished behind the paper lantern-lit door. Now it was just me and Asuma as we walked back, side by side through the quiet streets of Konoha. For once, he was quiet, which meant something was definitely brewing in that overactive Sarutobi brain of his.
"You know," he finally said, hands in his pockets, "when they told me I was getting stuck with you as my jonin leader, I thought Dad was punishing me."
I shot him a look. "Gee, thanks. Great to know my baby brother had so much faith."
He smirked, the same crooked grin he used to wear when he would steal my rice cakes as a kid. "Come on. You were always the genius. The perfect one. I thought you'd boss me around and make me look bad."
I scoffed. "I did boss you around."
"Yeah, but… you didn't make me look bad."
We stopped near the gate to the family's courtyard. He glanced up at it for a moment before looking back to me.
"You pushed me," he said. "Made me work harder than I ever have. I hated it at first. But now…" He paused. "I get it, and I'm better for it... and not just as a shinobi."
I folded my arms and gave him a crooked smile. "Look at you, getting all heartfelt. You trying to make me cry before war breaks out?"
He rolled his eyes. "Shut up." But his voice was warm, fond. Real.
"And hey," I added, bumping his shoulder with mine, "you're not that much of a disappointment."
"You're such a liar."
We both laughed, just a little too loud for the quiet night.
He started down the stone path to the house, then looked back at me. "Thanks, Onee-chan."
My smile softened. "Anytime, brat."
He shook his head with a smirk then opened the gate and headed inside. I stood there a moment longer, watching him return to our parents' house that I had lived in for thirteen years when I was first reborn into this world.
I turned from the gate and took the long way home. This would be the last of nights like this for some time, soft-footed and full-bellied, wrapped in quiet laughter and the scent of summer. I could only hope that I was ready for what was ahead of me and had the strength to protect those that I cared about.
My feet carried me past the old residential district near the southern slope of the village. Kushina's house sat just around the bend, lights off now, but the front porch still creaked the same way it always had. I smiled faintly as I passed it, remembering late-night gossip and her voice rising in frustration whenever someone called her "tomato." She was fire, bite, and fierce loyalty... and the best friend that I had ever had in either of my lives.
In my old life, the world had been quieter, simpler. It had structure and rules that mostly made sense. People did not kill each other over bloodlines or tailed beasts; it was a real crime if you did as war was a distant thing. I had never feared being hunted just for existing. And yet… it was lonelier, too. I never had siblings. Never had students. Never had a team that looked at me with trust in their eyes, like Asuma just had.
And I certainly didn't have a father like Hiruzen.
I had hated him once, or rather his character. Loathed him for his decisions in the manga, which had made my blood boil. Letting Danzo act unchecked. Sacrificing others for the "greater good" which seemed more like his need to hold onto power. Giving Naruto a childhood of silence and shadows.
But fifteen years has a way of eroding certainty. Hiruzen Sarutobi was not a villain. He was a tired man holding the weight of a village that never stopped needing more. A man who kissed my forehead goodnight even when I said I was too old for it. Who stayed up late to review my training logs and still made time to lecture me, at length, about duty and compassion, and finding the balance between the two.
Flawed? Absolutely. But also… my father. A real one that cared about me, that was proud of me, and one that worried about me.
I swallowed down the lump in my throat as I turned toward the Senju compound. The trees were taller now, shading the courtyard where I had once sparred with Nawaki under Tsunade's sharp-eyed supervision. My arm had been broken in that corner, then healed by Tsunade's Mystic Palm a minute later. She had scolded me for rushing the chakra burst, and then made me do it again, properly the next time. That place had made me stronger and helped me find the path that I wanted to pursue.
I continued on, weaving through the winding streets until I passed the training ground my team regularly used. I had chosen this one specifically because it was close to the woods, with uneven terrain and a steep incline perfect for legwork. I could almost hear their voices: Guy's enthusiastic shouting, Asuma grumbling through push-ups, Kurenai quiet hum as she pushed through her limits in order to keep up with Asuma and Guy.
I had pushed them hard, and they had grown, but I could not help but ask... Would they come back the same? Would any of this still be the same?
I turned down the main road, passing Yakiniku Q again, now dark and closed with the familiar scent of smoke and marinade still lingering in the air. A few blocks further was Ichiraku, shutters drawn but still warm from the day's business. Teuchi had always saved a bowl for me when I got back from a long mission. He never asked questions, just smiled, poured the broth, and listened if I needed to talk.
Konoha had become my home. Not just the buildings, but the memories baked into its bricks and boards. The laughter under trees. The distant clang of steel on training posts. The smell of grilled pork belly and fresh mochi. The little things that made this place alive.
I made it back to my apartment and, instead of laying down to sleep, I headed out to my bedroom balcony. Leaning against the rails, I looked out at the sky. The stars above Konoha blinked steadily in the dark, uncaring and eternal, and I made a silent promise to them.
No matter what comes… I will bring my team home.