I must have drifted off sometime after two in the morning. The candle on my desk had melted into a crooked pool; the smell of smoke and ink still hung heavily in the air. My neck ached from the angle I had slumped onto my desk while cheek pressed to the reports I had been trying to finish.
The quiet sound of footsteps pulled me from sleep, and I blinked to see Kurenai standing beside me. Her dark hair framed her face in the candlelight while her expression caught somewhere between relief and scolding.
"You fell asleep here," she said quietly. Her hand lifted as if to touch me, then hovered, fingers curling back toward her palm before brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead. "I thought you'd work yourself into the ground."
I pushed myself upright with a groan, rubbing my eyes. "It's my job to keep things running now. I don't have the luxury of collapsing."
Her mouth quirked into something halfway between a smile and a frown. "Even commanders need to rest. If you fall apart, what happens to the rest of us?"
That hit deeper than I wanted to admit. I glanced at her, finding her gaze steady on me, unwavering. "You make it sound like everything hinges on me."
"Doesn't it?" The words slipped out of her before she seemed to realize it, and she pressed her lips together, as if she wished she could pull them back.
The tent felt smaller suddenly, and the silence between us heavy. I searched her face, trying to read what she meant, but Kurenai was a master at controlling what she showed. Her hand still lingered on the edge of my desk, fingers brushing against my scattered notes as though anchoring herself.
"I never know what to do with you when you talk like that," I said at last, aiming for lightness but falling short. "One moment you sound like my medic, the next like… something else."
Her eyes softened, just a little. "Maybe it's both. Maybe I just don't want to see you carried back half-dead like the others."
That warmth in her voice tugged at me, yet I could not decide if it was the voice of a student who admired her teacher or of something more intimate. I leaned back, forcing a smile that did not quite reach my eyes. "Well, lucky for you, I'm stubborn and hard to kill."
Her answering smile was faint, but it lingered longer than it should have. For a moment, neither of us moved. Her hand hovered again, as though she might reach for mine...
"Akari!" The tent flap burst open, Asuma's voice cutting clean through the tension. "Duy says we can't eat until you come sit down, and I'm starving!"
He jolted both of us out of the fragile moment, shattering it like glass. Kurenai straightened at once as she turned away and her hand dropped neatly to her side.
Asuma stood with his usual scowl, utterly unaware. "If you don't come soon, he's gonna burn the boar just to torture me."
I let out a thin sigh, squeezing the bridge of my nose. "I'll be there in a moment."
"Fine, fine," he muttered, retreating without another word. The flap swung shut.
I glanced sidelong at Kurenai. Her face was calm again, unreadable, though something lingered in her eyes that I could not name. I wanted to hope it meant something more but now was not the time to explore it.
"The world never seems to give us a quiet moment," I said softly.
"No," she agreed. Her voice was steady, but her hand flexed once at her side, as if she wanted to reach for me then thought better of it.
I pushed away from the desk. "Come on. Let's not keep them waiting."
Duy's fire was already crackling when Kurenai and I stepped out of the command tent, the smell of roasted boar cutting through the usual stench of blood, medicine, and burnt earth that clung to the camp. Duy, of course, had his ridiculous apron tied proudly over his green jumpsuit, humming as though he were preparing a feast for a festival rather than a meal in the middle of a war zone.
"There she is!" he boomed when he spotted me, immediately puffing his chest out. "Akari-sama, the first cut belongs to you. It wouldn't be right otherwise."
Asuma groaned from his seat near the fire, already glaring at me like this was my fault. "He's been saying that for fifteen minutes. Do you know how torturous it is to sit here smelling that and not be allowed a bite?"
"Patience builds character," Duy said with a solemn nod, as if quoting some holy scripture.
Guy immediately mirrored him, striking the exact same pose with his chin tilted proudly to the sky. "Yes! True strength is forged in discipline!"
"True strength is forged in starvation, apparently," Asuma muttered, flopping backward onto the dirt.
I accepted the skewer Duy eagerly handed me, the firelight flickering across his grin. "Perfectly roasted and well-seasoned; truly excellent," I complimented, taking a slow, exaggerated bite.
The first bite melted on my tongue, smoky and rich. Around us, the circle filled with the clatter of skewers and the hum of low conversation as Duy began portioning out servings to the others. For a moment, it almost felt like a celebration. Almost.
Then the stories began.
"I swear I saw it," a chunin said, leaning forward, his voice low but fervent. "A giant of molten rock, towering above the battlefield. It fought the Kazekage himself."
Another shinobi shook his head, waving a greasy skewer for emphasis. "Yeah, but the Elemental Monkeys were incredible too. I watched one drag three squads out of a sand trap before they suffocated. I thought it was a medic unit at first, but when I saw them in the camp, I realized they were all clones."
A younger genin leaned in, eyes wide. "No, no... You weren't there when the lightning one tore through the enemy line. One second, I thought I was going to die, then thunder cracked, and they were all dead." He slapped the ground for emphasis, his voice carrying. "She saved us then shot of like a bolt of lightning to the next group of Sand ninjas."
And just like that, the circle went quiet. Dozens of eyes turned to me. I chewed slowly, pretending my food was suddenly the most fascinating thing I had ever seen, but my team's stares cut through sharper than any kunai. Asuma's expression was wide-eyed disbelief, Guy's bursting in barely contained admiration, and Kurenai's gaze was soft and searching. Only Duy seemed unbothered, calmly eating as though this were the most natural thing in the world.
Finally, Guy couldn't hold back. He leaned forward, fists tight. "Sensei! You fought the Kazekage himself?!"
Asuma's voice cracked as he pointed at me. "All this time you've been making us run laps and practice formations, and you...you were hiding this level of strength?!"
Kurenai said nothing, her chopsticks poised over her plate, but her eyes never left me.
"How do you think I've gotten this strong, brat? I've put more time into my personal training than you would imagine, and from a younger age than when you began. I might have had an advantage growing up, but I would not be where I am now without dedication and determination," I chided. "Besides... they're exaggerating. I just did what was asked of me. Anyone else would do the same."
A ripple of laughter moved through the circle, but an older chunin shook his head sharply, and said, "Not just anyone could do what you did, Sarutobi-sama. Many of us would not be alive if you had not held back the Kazekage, and you were able to send clones to rescue even more? Only the Third Hokage could do something like that."
"Perhaps, but the old man can still school me in the training field when my head gets too big," I chuckled.
That got a laugh, and the tension broke, replaced with chatter and banter again, but the gratitude lingered. I could feel it pressing against me with every gaze I felt on me.
Beside me, Kurenai lowered her head to her food. She did not laugh with the others, nor add her voice to the praise. Every motion was precise, yet her shoulders remained stiff, her posture too controlled.
Her gaze flicked toward me in fleeting moments, eyes filled with awe and unease. She tried to hide it, but I saw the strain in the set of her mouth, the shadow between her brows. Shock, admiration, and fear rested heavy on her, not fear of me, but for me.
I smiled with the others, but her silence pressed closer than any words could.
And beneath it all, I felt the echo of my own silence. A longing I had no right to voice, not here, not now. Kurenai's presence steadied me, yet it also threatened to unravel what little balance I had left. In another life, perhaps, I could have reached for her. But in this one, I was her commander, her superior, and a Sarutobi. The weight of a name, of a duty inherited, chained me as tightly as the war itself.
They looked at me with hope, as if I could shield them from what lay ahead, as if my strength alone could see them safely through the storm. It was a trust I could not betray, no matter the cost. That was what it meant to lead, what it meant to carry the Sarutobi name, yet I knew it was an impossible dream. So, I kept my smile, kept my silence, and buried the ache.
Later that afternoon, I sat in the command tent that smelled faintly of ink and burned wax, a reminder of how long I had been comparing reports to the maps of the region as I tried to figure out where the Sand camp was; most of our old intel had burned away with Danzo, so I was remarking a lot of it from scratch. When my team pushed through the flap, I was not alone as I had summoned Hyūga Renji already. He waited with his arms folded, and his posture as stiff as the steel of his headband. His pale eyes shifted briefly to the group before returning to me, silent as ever.
Asuma walked in first, chin high like he owned the place. I did not bother with pleasantries and suppressed the urge to smack him upside the head.
"You've been pestering me about field work since the day we set up camp," I said, tapping the rolled patrol map on the table. "Here's your chance. The four of you will be running an overnight sweep. One loop out, one loop back by dawn. Hyūga Renji will accompany you; he'll keep watch for ambushes and give me a full report on your performance, so take this seriously if you want more missions outside of the morgue."
Asuma's face brightened like a spark catching tinder. "Finally! I knew you'd..."
"Kurenai will serve as acting leader."
His mouth hung open for a second, caught mid-celebration. "What? Kurenai?"
Renji's eyebrow twitched, but he said nothing. Kurenai did not bother speaking either and shot him a glare sharp enough to slice through his protest. The tips of his ears went scarlet as he shut his mouth with a click.
I leaned back, letting the silence stretch. "Is there a problem?"
"No," Asuma muttered, eyes on the floor.
Guy clapped him on the back, laughing. "A mission at last! My flames of youth will light the night sky!"
Duy gave a solemn nod beside him. "We will return before dawn with victory in our hearts."
"Good," I said, rolling up the map. "Renji has your route. Gear up, eat something, and get out there before sunset. Don't make me regret giving you this."
Renji inclined his head ever so slightly, acknowledgment without wasted words. Asuma gave me a look on his way out, half annoyance and half the kind of reluctant respect that only comes when you have been caught acting like a fool. I did not return it, but I let myself smirk once he was out of sight.
By the time dawn began painting the canvas of the sky in pale grays, Renji was back at the command center. His uniform was spotless as ever, but the faint drag in his step betrayed the night's patrol. He bowed slightly as he handed me a sealed report, and though his face was still the mask of Hyūga composure, the corners of his eyes showed a trace of strain.
"Your team is competent," he said simply, voice quieter than usual. "I'll leave the details to my notes."
I gave a small nod of thanks and watched him leave, his posture still rigid despite the fatigue. Only once the tent flap fell shut behind him did I break the seal.
The opening lines were exactly what I expected: no contact, the border quiet, the faintest traces of old movement suggesting the Sand had pulled back days before. A reprieve, if only temporary.
My eyes skimmed lower.
"Kurenai Yūhi demonstrated natural command presence. Balanced caution with decisiveness. Subordinates deferred to her judgment without question."
I knew she had the potential.
"Asuma Sarutobi has solid fundamentals. Eager. Needs restraint; impulsiveness could have given away their position, but corrected after reprimand."
I sighed. Typical.
"Might Guy, brimming energy. Subtlety nonexistent. Not suitable for any convert mission."
That earned the smallest of smirks.
"Might Duy, reliable and disciplined. Maintained vigilance throughout the night. Set a quiet example that steadied the group."
I was halfway through the final lines when the world around me lurched. The ink on the page blurred, and I was dragged forward as if some invisible tide had gripped my entire body.
The next blink brought me into damp warmth. The air smelled of moss and ancient stone, heavy with life and chakra so thick it prickled against my skin. Pale light filtered through enormous trees, their roots and branches coiling like slumbering serpents. The Shikkotsu Forest, which could only mean one thing...
"About time."
I turned, and there was Tsunade, standing with her arms folded and impatience radiating off her in waves. Katsuyu's massive form loomed at her side, a reminder of the only creature who could drag me bodily across the continent without my permission.
Tsunade's eyes narrowed, and she did not waste a second. "Where in the hell did you get poison notes that read like this? Don't bother telling me they're from some archive, even Chiyo herself wouldn't put this much detail into writing. Don't dance around, brat... tell me the truth."
I exhaled slowly. I knew that tone, if I tried to sidestep, she would crush it out of me anyway, so it was better to get ahead of her fury.
"They are Chiyo's," I said plainly.
The way Tsunade froze, the disbelief etched across her face, was almost worth the risk of handing the notes over. Almost.
"Explain. Now."
I braced myself and started from the beginning. "Danzo sent me to stall Rasa. Not sure if he was trying to get me killed, but I managed and even nearly killed him..."
Her fists clenched, nails biting into her palms, but she did not interrupt. I pressed on before her temper boiled over.
"The Chiyo intervened with her puppets and pulled him out of my range. I still had the advantage, but then a signal flare went up over our camp. I knew something was wrong and couldn't spend the time it would take to crush her completely."
Tsunade's jaw flexed, but her silence gave me room to continue.
"So, I made an offer to let her and Rasa walk in return for her poison notes."
"You—" Tsunade's voice cracked with fury, but she bit it down, shaking her head as though she could not believe what she was hearing. "You gambled the battlefield on that old hag's cooperation?"
"I didn't gamble," I countered. "I calculated... and marked her and Rasa with a Flying Thunder God seal for insurance with a clone checking and copying the notes in a safe place"
"You mastered that technique?!?" she asked with disbelief.
"I'm nowhere near Minato's level, but I can teleport in and out of a place at least... but anyways, when I returned to camp," I went on, "I found out Danzo was dead. Most of his ROOT were gone with him, which left me the highest-ranked shinobi on site. So, until reinforcements arrive, I'm in command."
The forest went quiet. Only the faint hum of chakra in the air carried between us. Tsunade just stared, the scroll limp in her hand now. For several long moments she looked less like my master and more like a woman stunned by the weight of what she was hearing. Finally, she let out a sharp, incredulous laugh.
"You fought off a Kage, strong-armed Chiyo herself, and then took command of a collapsing camp after Danzo's corpse hit the dirt? Gods, Akari. You've outdone even the tall tales your father used to spin about himself."
Heat crept into my cheeks, though I kept my face composed. "I only did what had to be done."
She snorted. "Don't feed me that humble nonsense. You pulled off the impossible, and you know it." Her expression softened then, pride gleaming beneath her exhaustion. "You've grown into something I didn't expect, brat. The old man has no idea of what kind of monster he raised."
I gave a faint smile. "So, what now?"
"What now," she said firmly, "is that I'm going to have a long talk with the old man about relocating to your front before the Sand rallies. And you," she jabbed a finger at my chest, "are going back to camp. You're in charge there until those reinforcements arrive. Understood?"
"Yes, Tsunade-sama."
Her lips quirked into a smirk that held more affection than reprimand. "Good girl."
The Shikkotsu Forest shimmered, and Katsuyu's chakra wrapped around me once again. As the scene faded, the last thing I saw was Tsunade still watching me, torn between anger and pride, as if she could not decide whether she ought to scold me into the ground or brag about her student.
When the light cleared, I was back in the command center. The ink of Renji's report waited for me on the desk, half-blurred where my fingers had pressed down too hard before Katsuyu dragged me away. I sighed and leaned back in my chair for a moment as I let everything sink in.
There was a lot of weight and responsibility on my shoulders now, but I had chosen this path, so I was going to embrace it.