The owner, a heavy-set man, squinted suspiciously at Naruto's features. "You one of them foxes too?"
"I'm a ninja," said Naruto, tapping his Leaf hitai-ate meaningfully.
...
Scratching his whining dog's head, the man grunted. "Can't be too careful with these things. Hadn't seen one around for ages... They're bad luck, they are, and thieves at that. If they linger for too long, you know that means something bad is going to happen. But you'll know all about that, I'm sure."
"What do you mean?"
Raising an eyebrow, the man tapped his forehead. "You're a Leaf-nin, so I'm surprised you don't know. Rumors say it was a fox with a hundred tails that destroyed your village way back when." Beckoning towards his dog, the man added in a low voice, "After seeing that fox, you'd better watch yourself tonight."
With the man's departure, the audience began to disperse and soon, it was as though nothing had ever happened. The crowd moved around Naruto, their conversations fading in and out like waves on the shore.
The stall was selling inarizushi, rice stuffed in fried tofu pouches. Naruto bought one, and bit into it—a sweet and yet salty flavor spread in his mouth, and he quickly finished it. His stomach gurgled, and realizing he hadn't eaten all day, he bought another one and scarfed that down as well. Once he had satisfied his appetite, Naruto was about to leave the festival—when a stray thought suddenly struck him.
It was so simple, he thought. When you were hungry, you ate.
He looked down at his stinging palms. The blood had dried and he could see it already healing.
Letting his hands fall back down by his sides, he made up his mind.
Naruto bought a box of the inarizushi and walked into the forest. The sounds and lights of the festival faded behind him, and he was soon alone. The summer breeze that brushed against his skin was cool, and the dark sky above was filled with stars. He came to a stop before one of the trees, and lowered himself on a knee.
A wary voice came from the branches above his head: "What, are you here to mock me?"
Naruto placed the box down on the ground. "I brought a better offering."
A beat passed—and then with a rustle, the fox jumped down to the ground. Wearing a cautious expression, he examined Naruto's face—before dashing forward and tearing into the fried tofu.
Clearing his throat, Naruto said, "Just so you know, I'm the jinchūriki of the Nine-tails."
"So you are." Munch, munch. "And I am a fox."
Naruto hesitated. "What can I do to be worthy?"
Rice sticking to his snout, Amakurō said, "You can start by getting me another box of this."
...
Jiraiya had yet to make an appearance—no doubt, he was off doing more 'research' for his novels—and so Naruto booked a lone room for himself in an inn that evening. Laying back on the futon, he looked up at the dark ceiling before closing his eyes.
"You saw only what you didn't want to see."
He had thought about Amakurō's words all day, and after talking to Taki, he thought he had an inkling as to why he had seen Mayu on that night. Maybe he had known all along.
Naruto had tried to let go of the past to endure, like Kakashi had told him to. He had tried to replace his team with his training, in the hopes that everything he was feeling would go away. However, even though he had tried to forget, the void was still there, as raw as it had been since the day he'd first felt it.
How could you smile when you were alone?
How could you endure when it was your fault?
There were so many things Naruto didn't understand, no matter how much he thought about it. Even if he spent the rest of his life scouring through the Archives—his sanctuary where he had once thought he'd unearthed the secrets of the world—he knew that he would never be able to find the answers he needed there.
His heart was spinning with regrets and his head was spinning with questions. But at some point in the night, the smell of inarizushi lingering on his clothes carried him to sleep.
The next morning, when Naruto woke up, he found a note waiting for him. Sliding the door of the inn open with a clatter, he left the establishment.
The sun was just starting to rise; the rest of the village was still asleep, and the air was still with silence. Blearily making his way to the village entrance, he spotted a lone figure leaning against the gates. As his eyes adjusted to the glow of the sunlight, the grinning face of Jiraiya came into focus.
"We've got a long journey ahead of us," said the sage. "If you thought your training until now was hard, I've got something coming for you."
Taking in a deep breath, Naruto rolled back his shoulders. And then with a nod, he took a step forward.
If there was one thing he had learned over the past year, it was that there were still many things that he didn't understand.
But he wanted to learn.
...
In the three years since Gatō's death, the capital of Wave country had completely transformed from an impoverished state to a prosperous trading port. What had once been a ghostly coastal town now teemed with the busy activity of commerce and the background bustle of what it took to run it. While it was a change brought about by the efforts of many, no one could deny the role played by the construction of the bridge that connected the island to its much larger neighbor, the Land of Fire.
Spanning the sea in a long unbroken line, the bridge culminated in an erected wooden post seared with the bridge's name:
The Bridge of Remembrance.
Tazuna, the master bridge builder, had stated in his opening ceremony address that it was in honor of the sacrifices that had made the bridge's completion possible.
It was not out of the ordinary for passing travelers to observe a moment of silence before moving on to their next destination. However, one particular morning found a certain figure lingering before the post far longer than could have been considered proper.
A tip-off muttered in the ear of a Wave border official soon brought the man striding over to investigate. "Hey, you there! Don't you see the sign? It says no loitering!" Drawing closer, he realized the vagrant wore a Leaf hitai-ate, and came to a wary stop. "Err—I mean, do you have your papers, sir?"
"'Papers'?" The ninja echoed, cocking his head. He was of average height, with cropped red hair, and wore standard—if bordering on threadbare—ninja fatigues.
The official cleared his throat. "Yes, sir. Your customs papers." Even though it had been two years since Wave country had officially tightened security around its border, there was still the odd journeyman who'd only just resurfaced and had yet to catch up with the changing times.
"Right. My papers." Raising a hand, the ninja pointed at something behind him. "There, he's bringing it."
Disapproval creasing his brow, the official began to turn around. "Sir, I recommend that you keep your own papers on yourself at all – " He suddenly broke off, realizing there was no one behind him. Something low hummed in the air, and he looked back—but the ninja was gone.
The official gulped.
He had worked in this field for long enough to know the trees had eyes, and even though he knew the ninja was long gone, he began to make a show of searching the area. Frankly speaking, he hoped his transfer request would go through soon. Border duty was way above his pay grade.