The shaking had stopped. The terrifying, bone-rattling thrum-thrum-thrum of the ancient heating element had settled into a steady, rhythmic pulse, like the heartbeat of a sleeping giant.
Naruto stood near the edge of the clearing, watching the steam rise from the melting glacier. The air no longer smelled of burning ozone and violence; now, it smelled of wet stone, thawing pine needles, and the faint, sweet scent of coolant settling in the pipes.
The team was regrouping near the snowmobiles.
Koyuki sat on the rear fender of the film crew's sled, her silk dress ruined, her face smeared with grease and soot. She wasn't looking at her people; she was staring at the exposed machinery—the ugly, rusted gears and serrated cabling that had been hidden inside the beautiful ice for decades. She looked like someone who had finally seen the skeleton beneath the skin and decided she could live with it.
Nearby, Tenten was kneeling in the slush, retrieving her arsenal.
"That was... effective," Neji said, standing over her. He looked out of place with dirt on his pristine jacket.
"Thanks," Tenten sighed, tugging a kunai out of a frozen fissure with a sharp shhh-clack. "Do you mind helping me with the rest? These are custom-weighted. They took a long time to make."
Neji didn't lecture her on destiny. He didn't scoff. He actually smiled—a small, barely-there thing—and nodded. "Sure."
Naruto grinned, then winced as the motion tugged at his bruised ribs. He looked toward the rock formation where the heavy hitters were recovering.
Sasuke was sitting apart from the group, leaning against a dark stone. His shirt was torn, revealing the angry black script of the Cursed Mark on his shoulder. Kakashi-sensei was kneeling beside him, his hands glowing with a sealing chakra that smelled like burning paper.
Sylvie was there, too. She was hovering over Sasuke's crushed wrist, her hands coated in a flickering, pale green aura. She looked exhausted, her glasses sliding down her nose.
"Sorry..." Sylvie murmured, her voice tight with fatigue. "My reserves are low. I can stabilize the bone density and knit the periosteum, but I don't have much chakra left for a full cellular reconstruction."
Sasuke scoffed, pulling his arm back slightly as the green light faded. "It's fine. I've been through worse."
"Yeah, I hear that," Anko groaned, cracking her neck with a wet pop-crunch. She leaned back, staring up at the patch of blue sky. "We're all running on fumes."
Over by the film equipment, Makino was vibrating. The Director wasn't looking at the injuries or the miracle of the spring; he was looking at the lighting.
"The greatest movie of all time," Makino whispered, framing the air with his hands. "The tragedy! The triumph! But... it lacks a coda. I need one more shot. The emotional anchor!"
Yomu, the cameraman, nodded frantically. He scrambled over to Anko and Kakashi, whispering something in their ears. Kakashi's visible eye curved into a U-shape, and Anko smirked, glancing toward Naruto.
Naruto ignored them, wandering out onto the ice.
He walked toward the break in the glacier where the water was still churning, bubbling with residual heat. The sunlight hitting the mist created a prism effect, surrounding him in a faint, shimmering rainbow.
He stopped. He looked at the water. He looked at the horizon.
A realization hit him like a brick to the face.
"Wait..." Naruto grabbed his head, his eyes widening. "The boat! The ship got destroyed days ago by the torpedoes! We're in the middle of nowhere!"
He spun around to face the group, panic rising.
"HOW ARE WE GONNA GET HOME?!"
Silence.
Then, the crunch of boots on slush.
Sylvie walked up behind him. She wasn't looking at him; she was looking at her boots, kicking a chunk of ice skittering across the surface. Her face was a bright, alarming shade of crimson—redder than the chakra cloak he'd used earlier.
"Uh-uhm... they-um..." Sylvie stammered, refusing to make eye contact. "Blimp."
Naruto blinked, his brain doing a slow reboot. He spun 180 degrees to face her.
"OF COURSE!" Naruto punched his palm. "Dotō's blimp! It's still parked at the fortress! We can fly home! THAT'S AWESOME!"
He beamed at her, then paused. He tilted his head, scratching his nose in genuine confusion.
"Are you okay, though? You're really red, Sylvie-chan! Is it the heat from the generator? You look like you have a fever!"
Ten yards away, Makino grabbed Yomu by the back of the head. He physically dragged the cameraman down into a crouch, pointing the lens directly at the pair.
Whirrrrr-click.
Sylvie swallowed hard. She took a step closer, invading his personal space in a way she never did. She looked up, her eyes locking onto his.
"And..." she whispered.
Naruto blinked. "And?"
Sylvie reached out, her hand trembling slightly as she touched the front of his torn, dirty jacket.
"You're still orange, Naruto."
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.
It wasn't a movie kiss. It was quick, terrified, and tasted like mint and ozone.
Naruto froze. His brain flatlined.
Behind them, the world exploded into noise. Anko let out a wolf-whistle that echoed off the mountains. TenTen gasped, dropping her gathered kunai with a loud clatter. Makino pumped his fist in silent ecstasy. Even Sasuke looked up, his eyes widening a fraction of an inch.
Naruto stood there, paralyzed, while the first true breeze of the Spiral Spring ruffled his hair.