Nara Hisao's voice cut through the noise of the camp like a blade.
"Hyūga Kenshin, perimeter defense! Gather every Earth Release user you can find and rebuild the walls!"
"Hatake Minoru, full casualty report, dead and wounded!"
"Umino Daichi, get a count of supplies, everything from senbon needles to ration bars!"
One name after another was barked out with each person snapping to action. The panic amongst the crowd thinned and was replaced by organized urgency. I let Hisao work since I knew that he was precise, reliable, and was already pulling the camp back from chaos. That gave me room to do what only I could. With a few hand signs, I summoned Space-Time, Yin, and Lava appeared, alert and waiting.
"Hey, summon Katsuyu for me as big as you can," I said.
Space nodded to me and walked to the nearest open section, the charred zone of the former command center. With a few hand signs of her own, she slapped the ground and a massive seal flared on the ground. Smoke billowed, and the colossal form of Katsuyu towered over the camp.
"Akari-sama," she greeted, her voice calm as ever.
"We were attacked and need help. Focus on the critical injuries first then those who can recover the fastest next," I explained quickly.
"Understood."
Katsuyu split into hundreds of smaller selves that scattered through the camp, leaving trails of green healing light. A few moments later, my surviving clones, Earth, Fire, Water, Wind, and Lightning approached me, battered but intact.
"Sit. Meditate. Recover. I could need you a..."
I did not have time to say more before Kurenai stormed over, her gaze locking on me. For a second, there was a hint of a pout and concern, but she quickly schooled her face into something more neutral.
"You're coming with me," she said, already grabbing for my arm.
"Kurenai, I still hav..."
"No arguments. The medical tent is full, and I'm not leaving you to stand around bleeding when I can treat you myself."
She pulled me toward our team's tent with Asuma and Guy automatically falling in behind. As we approached, she pushed me into the tent then turned to them. "Guard the entrance. No one comes in until I say."
"Yes, Kurenai-san," Guy replied immediately.
"Sure, Kurenai-chan," Asuma agreed.
The inside of the tent was the same as when we left it this morning; a true luxury after this kind of day. The small, collapsable table where I would work on reports was still upright as I had been lazy this morning, but now, it served as a place to drop off my gear.
My flak vest was hanging by a single strap, the shoulder split open where Rasa's Gold Dust had torn through it. My once polished steel bracers were gouged and scraped from deflecting a blow that could have taken my arm clean off. Beneath it all, my shirt and pants were ripped, scorched, and stiff with dried blood some mine, some not. In the end, I had to strip down to my underwear for treatment. It was almost a mercy as most who came through the tent didn't have enough clothing left to bother removing.
"Sit," she ordered.
I eased into the chair, too drained to hide the wince. Kurenai crouched in front of me, pulling her medkit from her pouch. She did not look at my face as she worked, antiseptic soaking into a cloth. Her hands were steady, but her voice… her voice was too careful.
"I caught pieces of what happened out there," she murmured, pressing the cloth to my jaw. "Didn't need to see it all. The ones they brought in… it was enough."
Her words trailed off. She moved to my arm, cleaning away blood in slow, precise strokes.
"What was enough?" I asked, my tone meant to be casual, but it came out rougher than intended.
She paused then said softly, "To wonder if you would be the next one brought in."
Her fingers lingered against my skin, and the heat from her touch spread further than it should have. I could feel the words I wanted to say pressing at the back of my throat. The ache to lean forward and close the distance between us was tightening in my chest. Her face was right there, close enough that I could see the faint shadow of exhaustion under her eyes, close enough that I could imagine the warmth of her lips if I dared. But I did not... Could not.
"I'm sorry I made you worry, but I'll always fight my way back... to you," I said quietly, though the last two words were not out loud.
Finally, she looked up. For a moment, the sounds outside the tent fell away. Her red eyes locked on mine, searching, questioning, and maybe… hoping. My body leaned forward just slightly before I forced it to still. This was not the place, and certainly not the time, but the urge burned all the same.
When the last bandage was tied, she sat back. "Sleep," she told me, the smallest thread of softness weaving into the order. "I'll be here."
"Last I checked, I'm the jonin leader, not you," I retorted, already climbing into my bedroll.
Her lips twitched like she wanted to roll her eyes. "Last I checked, you're also the one covered in injuries."
"Fair," I admitted, lying back on the cot. "But don't think this means you're in charge."
She did not dignify that with an answer, just brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and gave me a pointed look until I closed my eyes. Sleep claimed me faster than I expected. Sadly, it ended just as abruptly with Guy's voice at full volume.
"STOP! JONIN AT REST!"
I jerked awake and rubbed my face, still exhausted. Outside, Asuma's low voice was answering someone, but I caught the deep, lazy drawl immediately.
"Fine, fine," Hisao said. "I'll just yell, then. Akari-sama! I have your reports!"
Suppressing a groan, I called back, "I'll be out in a few minutes!"
Beside me, Kurenai stirred, blinking sleep from her eyes. She must have nodded off while watching over me.
"You should rest," I told her quietly. "You've been running yourself ragged since yesterday too."
She gave me a tired little smile. "I will. Just… after you."
I changed into a clean set of clothes, no armor for now, just regular clothes before I slipped out of the tent and passed Asuma and Guy to join Hisao.
"Kurenai needs to rest, so one of you stand watch while the other sleeps then switch out," I instructed.
The boys agreed without any complaint, so I left them behind. Hisao led me towards the newly designated command center, a sturdier tent on higher ground, while he read from his clipboard.
"Forty percent dead or permanently crippled," he began, his tone flat but his eyes shadowed. "That's out of original two thousand we started this campaign with. Another fifteen percent injured but expected to recover."
I felt my jaw tighten. "Supplies?"
"Rations for two weeks. Weapons—shuriken, kunai, exploding tags—won't last another large-scale fight. We'll need resupply." He hesitated before adding, "From the few people who saw the attack, we believe Pakura of the Sand was responsible for Danzo's death, unless she has a successor that also has the Scorch Release Kekkei Genkai."
I kept my expression neutral. "Noted. Anything else?"
"That's all for now. What's next?"
"Get your wounds treated," I said. "Or sleep. Your choice."
He gave a little shrug, the Nara trademark, and wandered off. Inside the command tent, I sat down with paper and ink, the weight of the report pressing down even before I started writing. Every line I put to paper, from casualty counts to supply shortages, intelligence and the battle report, was another stone on my shoulders. When it was finished, I rolled the scroll, tied it off, and flashed through a few hand signs to summon Hana.
"Get this to my father," I told her. "Quick as you can."
She nodded, tucking the scroll into her scarf, before vanishing in another burst of smoke. I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes, knowing that I still had plenty of work to do. Thankfully, I did have some help.
The command center still smelled faintly of smoke and blood when my clones filtered back in. Earth and Yin joined me at the low table without needing to be asked. Their calm presence grounding me as I worked through casualty tallies and perimeter reports. I looked up at Space-Time and Lava.
"You two, go check on our deal," I said simply.
They gave matching nods then put on their copies of my ANBU mask and vanished together.
~~~~~~
Chiyo was waiting outside of the Sand encampment, her posture ramrod straight despite the long night. Her hands were clasped neatly in front of her with the poise of a master puppeteer who could spring into action at any moment. There was no Rasa in sight, but the man would be lucky to leave his bed within the month.
Her gaze slid over the two masked figures, sharp and unhurried, as though cataloguing every detail. The faintest smirk touched her lips. "Tsunade's monstrous strength in your strikes… the shattered joints of my puppets confirm it. Add in the monkey motif, those unusual tonfa weapons, and that absurd array of elemental releases…" Her eyes narrowed with quiet satisfaction. "Sarutobi clan. Which means there's only one person you could be... Akari Sarutobi."
Space-Time tilted her head slightly, the mask hiding any change in expression. "Sounds like the Sand's spies are doing their job." Slowly, she reached up, unclasping the mask and lowering it in one smooth motion. Her gaze met Chiyo's without flinching, open, calm, and unblinking.
Chiyo's mouth pulled into a thin line. She studied the revealed face for a moment longer, and her shoulders dropped ever so slightly, not in weakness, but in acknowledgment. "So young… Konoha really seems to have an endless supply of geniuses."
A faint smile curved Space-Time's lips, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Shame we're on opposite sides. I respect your skill… and your dedication to your village."
Chiyo's eyebrow twitched at that. Her weight shifted subtly, the tiniest adjustment of stance that spoke of a readiness to strike if the conversation turned sour. "Flattery," she said dryly, "will get you nothing else from me."
Space-Time's stance mirrored hers with her feet slightly apart, relaxed but ready. "Not trying to flatter. Just stating a fact."
Chiyo's fingers flexed once against her sleeve, then she pulled out a set of tightly bound scrolls. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed them to Space-Time. "Handle them carelessly, and you might end up killing yourself before ."
Space-Time caught them without looking down, her gaze still on Chiyo, and chuckled, "I appreciate the warning."
For a heartbeat, they simply regarded each other... two kunoichi who, in another life, might have been allies.
Chiyo's eyes softened, just for an instant, before she straightened her spine again and gestured dismissively. "Go, unless you are ready for a fight."
"I'm always ready, but that's not my intention tonight. Our deal is complete, so I can remove the mark if you would like," Space-Time offered.
"You would remove it so easily?"
Space-Time shrugged. "The real danger that you pose is through this knowledge," she held up the scrolls. "And, if you've renegaded on our deal by giving me false notes, Rasa still has his mark."
Chiyo's eyes narrowed with annoyance for a moment then relaxed and agreed, "Fine, remove it."
With a single hand sign, Space-Time sent the scrolls away then walked towards Chiyo and remarked, "No funny business. I'm just a clone, so you would only piss off the original if you try anything when I'm being nice."
Chiyo scoffed, "I'm not that petty."
"If I had a ryo for every time I hear something like that," Space-Time chuckled as she walked over to Chiyo. Without any flair, Space-Time pressed a finger against the Flying Thunder God seal on Chiyo's neck and unraveled the fuinjutsu with a pulse of chakra. After that, she jumped back to Lava's side, placed a hand on her shoulder, and remarked, "I hope when we meet again, it's when our villages a negotiating peace."
Before Chiyo could reply, Space-Time and Lava vanished from the grassland. They reappeared not in camp, but in the cool confines of Akari's hidden training chamber.
Under the faint flicker of lanternlight, Space-Time unrolled the first scroll, scanning for hidden chakra threads, seals, or any trace of a trap. There were none that she could find, but trust was too expensive to give away.
"Copy them as I pass them off... We can't trust these anywhere near our people," she said, handing the first scroll to Lava.
Lava sighed dramaticly, yet sat down at the table without a fight. The scratching of quill across parchment was in an unbroken rhythm. Page by page, the knowledge was replicated twice, after Space-Time's thorough check, one set for Akari's personal use and the other for Tsunade.
When the last scroll was complete, Space-Time summoned a miniature Katsuyu. "Deliver this to Tsunade-sama, directly."
The slug inclined its head once before vanishing with the second set of scrolls. The chamber fell silent again, the two clones sitting side by side. There mission was complete, but with the unspoken understanding that nothing Chiyo gave them could be entirely free of risk, Lava burned the original scrolls.
~~~~~~~~~
Hours before when Space-Time and Scorch vanished from the battlefield, they did not return to the Leaf camp. Instead, they reappeared deep underground in the sealed stone chamber that served as their hidden training site.
The transformation was swift and silent. Their Leaf colors were stripped away and replaced with desert-hued armor reinforced with leather straps. Both had an ANBU-style mask marked with the sigil of Sunagakure, which Space-Time had taken months ago from a fallen Sand shinobi that had wandered too close to her hunting grounds. The surface was cold at first, then warmed quickly under their touch, like it recognized its new purpose. The straps tightened around their skulls with a faint snap.
A brief nod passed between Scorch and Space-Time, and the world folded in on itself as Space-Time teleported them away. They emerged in the tree line just beyond the shattered perimeter of the Leaf camp. Smoke clung low, a heavy blanket that dulled both sight and smell, though the sharp tang of charred metal still cut through. Shouts echoed faintly, warped and stretched, as though they came from underwater. Space-Time glanced at Scorch once more, then dispelled herself, leaving the clearing empty except for the rustle of leaves.
The breach was ahead; its blackened edges curling like burnt paper. Scorch slipped through, her presence a shadow among shadows. The ground radiated uneven heat, softening in places under her boots. Here and there, the warped silhouettes of collapsed tents leaned drunkenly against each other. She moved with precision, weaving between cover, disabling Leaf shinobi who crossed her path. Blows were precise and non-lethal like a sharp jab to the temple or a twist of a nerve cluster until the camp's deeper interior opened before her.
And that was where she found him, Danzo Shimura.
Unmarred. Untouched. His robes immaculate, pale fabric bright even in the dim light of smoke and flame. Around him lay the wreckage of bodies strewn like discarded weapons. The juxtaposition was unnatural; the chaos seemed to bend around him rather than touch him. The air around him wavered, heat and tension coiling into the same space. For an instant, the light bent around his outline, making him seem less man than mirage.
She prepared her attack without a sound, slowly stirring her chakra to make it harder to sense. Raising two fingers like they were a gun, she released a beam of golden chakra aimed directly at Danzo, its heat so intense that it distorted the air around it. The attack hit perfectly, piercing his heart, as it charred and dried out his body at the same time.
For a heartbeat, it seemed like he had been killed then Danzo's outline warped violently, detail bleeding away like paint in the rain before his body could even collapse to the ground. His body dissolved as reality shuddered, and Danzo reappeared, uninjured. Somewhere hidden under his bandages, a Sharingan clouded over as Izanagi's influence slid into place, restoring him as if nothing had touched him at all.
"Tch… an impressive strike, but wasted effort. Did you think the Darkness of Konoha could be undone so easily?" Danzo scoffed.
She launched a second attack, throwing a large orange-gold ball of fire straight into the group surrounding Danzo. It hit like the breath of a desert storm, all consuming. The air tasted metallic and bitter. Skin blistered, dried out, and charred all at the same time.
From the haze at the edge of vision, ROOT agents began to converge. The shimmer of heat made them look insect-like, limbs bending wrong as they drew close. Danzo's form blurred again as he reappeared yet again.
"Surround her! NOW! She must not break through!" he barked as the panic set in.
Scorch smiled coldly under her mask, knowing that she only needed one more strike. Danzo started to flee, but she would not let him go so easily. She exploded forward, weaving through the nearest ROOT agents, as she closed the distance between him and her. Her chakra was destabilizing at an incredible rate, building up the closer she got to him.
"Art... is an explosion," she taunted with grim satisfaction as she reached his side.
"No… not like this! I sti..."
Scorch's body erupted, though the detonation silently. For a heartbeat, there was no sound at all, no shouting, no clanging metal, only the sudden absence of everything. Then the blast expanded outward, heat peeling away the air itself. White-gold light swallowed the world, casting every shadow into retreat. The pressure slammed into the ground, carving a crater twenty-five meters wide.
When it was over, nothing of Danzo remained. No body. No weapons. No voice. Only the acrid bite of ozone and the faint shimmer of heat that lingered above the scorched earth. The camp's center now bore a silent marker, not of a battle, but of an execution. Kohona's shadowy root was finally burned away.