Unduh Aplikasi
66.66% - BORUTO and NARUTO: What We Will Be Someday / Chapter 40: PART 2.

Bab 40: PART 2.

The sun of day hung over the desert landscape, bathing everything in its golden glow. Mirai was standing at a singular exit point, which seemed to emerge like a hill in the middle of the vast desert.

Dressed for the cold, she wore a yellow cloak that covered her Chunin uniform, having set aside her vest due to past experiences in the Occult Twilight. His face, normally serious but confident, now reflected a mixture of seriousness and fear.

This underground exit was a hidden and isolated place, away from prying eyes and familiar paths. It was like a secret shrine in the middle of the desert, only accessible to those who knew its precise location.

Beside her, two subordinates of the Grand Old Woman, dressed in simple loincloths and faces hidden behind fabrics that only allowed their eyes to be seen, watched her with imperturbable attention. Mirai could feel their intense gazes, though their expressions were hidden under those mysterious veils.

The Great Old Woman, the leader of her clan, was standing a few steps away. Her wrinkled hands held an ornate staff, and her piercing eyes were fixed on Mirai as she packed her backpack.

He had witnessed the tension and fear in Mirai's eyes before setting out on this mission, and although his countenance was indifferent, there was a trace of worry in his gaze.

Mirai turned to them, ready to move into the unknown. He had made the decision not to inform the young ninjas about the true nature of his mission.

He knew that if they knew he was going on a clandestine assignment to protect them, they would be uneasy and worried. It would not be surprising if more than one followed her without her knowledge, exposing themselves to imminent danger.

And that was the last thing he wanted. He had seen a price listing for the heads of future ninjas during his time in the Hidden Twilight, and he didn't want the children to be in danger.

However, the Grand Elder did not agree with this choice. He believed that the truth should be revealed, that children should know the risks they faced. Mirai understood his perspective, but his actions were driven by a burning desire to protect the young from unnecessary harm.

A heavy silence filled the air, only interrupted by the slight creak of the fabric as Mirai closed her backpack. The tension was palpable, and the subordinates remained in absolute silence, as if they were keepers of an ancient secret.

Finally, Mirai, her backpack strapped to her back, stepped forward. The Great Old Woman still didn't look directly at her, but Mirai could feel the old lady's appreciative look on her. With fear in her voice, Mirai whispered a:

"Here I go." Barely audible. 

Then the Great Old Woman stepped to Mirai's side, her voice distant, but with a barely perceptible tremor as she said:

"Be very careful."

The farewell lacked effusiveness, but it was charged with a silent concern. An aura of uncertainty clung to the atmosphere as the two subordinates remained silent, watching the moment ahead.

Mirai could feel the skin on her fingers cling to the backpack straps from the sweat pouring from her hands. He wondered when it had all come to feel so overwhelming.

Not so long ago, he used to complete missions much more dangerous than this without breaking a sweat. He could even spend up to ten days away from home without causing any fuss. But this time it was different, and I knew it.

As he looked at the path ahead, he repeated over and over again in his mind, "Three days. Only three days." His mission lasted exactly three days, and in that time, he wouldn't be surprised if more than one eyebrow was raised upon realizing his absence.

The ticking of the clock in his head became a constant reminder that time was against him. Each step he took seemed slower, as if the world around him was slowing down. Each step was an additional weight on his mind, reminding him of the magnitude of what he left behind.

The desert land that lay desolate a few steps up, became cold when a voice, sharp and ordinary enough to be that of a twelve-year-old boy, chose to make its presence clear.

"Where are you going with all those things?"

Mirai's world stopped the instant the first word was spoken.

During these past few days, he had not heard that voice as clearly as he would have in the peaceful times of his home. Even doing so while being one step away from the outdoors, caused an air that made his heart flutter.

Shikadai's voice sounded so different under the current circumstances.

"And why are you leaving without saying a word?" Young Nara's interrogation resonated clearly, his voice full of frustration at not receiving an answer.

Mirai felt a jolt in her chest as Shikadai's tone became more insistent.

"Are you going to go to a so-called surprise training, and hope that we all accept it without further ado?! What do you plan to do?"

"Hey, kid, lower your voice!"

The Grandmother, still trying to remain neutral in the face of Mirai's decision, placed a hand on young Nara's chest to stop his advance. He had shared a few vague words with Mirai in the past few days, and he didn't wish for any child to leave the safety of home without a justified reason, especially not to face unknown danger.

Iwabee, the oldest of the group, remained inside the house, oblivious to the conflict that was developing between almost brothers. He couldn't allow Shikadai to cause disturbance over a trivial dispute, especially considering the cataclysm that threatened the village.

Mirai stood still, feeling Shikadai's fury burning behind her, holding back from involving the others in the discussion.

"What do all these secrets mean? Don't think I'm an idiot who doesn't know what's going on! I know perfectly what you are capable of!"

"Nara-kun, shut up!" The woman snapped at him in a high-pitched whisper. 

However, the young man was burning with anger, his shrill voice and piercing eyes making Mirai's temple throb.

"No! I won't let you leave without telling me where you're going!" Shikadai's words came out like a high-pitched roar as tears welled up in his eyes. 

Mirai couldn't bear to see Shikadai in that state. She felt caught in a cruel dilemma, torn between the need to protect children from the truth and genuine concern for Shikadai's well-being.

For one thing, he couldn't reveal the true nature of his mission. He knew that, if Shikadai and the others found out, their worry might lead them to take impulsive actions that would put them in danger. But on the other hand, I couldn't bear to see him cry and get angry like that.

The Great Elder's voice, this time, resounded with greater authority and decision:

"Shikadai, this is an adult business. Mirai has to leave for important reasons... It's a bit delicate."

Shikadai seemed to stagger at his grandmother's words, but his determination did not waver. He wiped away his tears with the back of his hand and, with a defiant look, replied:

"Then why don't you tell me where you're going? I won't stand here without knowing anything."

Mirai watched Shikadai, his mind working at full speed in search of an answer that would protect his secret and reassure the boy. The tension in the air was palpable, with all eyes on her.

However, Shikadai's motives for intervening in Mirai's secret departure were deeply emotionally charged.

"You've always been negligent when it comes to feelings, that's very typical of you." She said furiously, her green eyes throwing darts at Mirai's back, demanding answers. A tone that resonated with despair seeped through his anger. "We're in the past, and we're all doing everything we can to avoid ending up like our parents. Do you think I'll stay here, listening to the same thing over and over again, while you fade away for days? Who do you think you're dealing with, Mirai?"

Mirai's silence persisted until the desert wind emitted an audible whisper. Shikadai's anger was understandable, even to herself.

Although lying to them meant protecting them for her, she knew that it would not be the same for everyone. Especially for Shikadai, who wasn't known for ignoring his surroundings and letting problems go, even if they involved him.

It was no surprise that he was the one here, expressing his displeasure palpably in front of a silent Mirai.

With each sincere scream, the oppressive cold faded, and Mirai left behind the doubt that had initially held her back. She watched the ascent that would take her outside, just a few steps away. He had made a promise, and in order to keep it, he had to accomplish certain things, even if it meant facing discomfort.

The old woman remained serene, only frowning slightly to remind the Nara to remain discreet. Although he seemed on the verge of explosion, frowning, he restrained himself to give Mirai a chance to be honest with him.

I expected a clear and understandable answer, something simple that I could participate in, as it used to be when Mirai was leading. However, the response he received was completely different from what he expected. Her father's student blurted out a few simple words:

"Return to the shelter."

Shikadai blinked a few times, his eyes narrowed in a mixture of surprise and bewilderment. The Mirai I knew had never been so cold and distant.

Her short answers and defiant attitude were unknown to him. He tried to find some sign in her gaze, but Mirai wasn't looking him in the eye, which only made him even more unnerved.

Mirai reaffirmed her resolve without even turning to look at him. His voice, full of seriousness, resounded in the cold desert air:

"Either you come back by yourself, or I'll make you come back."

The torrent of burning anger flooded Shikadai from the depths of his being. Fury rose from his throat as he looked at Mirai in disbelief. His voice sounded harsh and full of frustration as he replied:

"Who the hell do you think you are? Since when have you acted like this?!"

Mirai was silent, offering no answer.

"You're not the only one who worries about what will happen if we stay here. We all do it! But..."

Shikamaru's son stopped, desperately hoping to receive at least a look of absolute sincerity. However, when facing the same cold air, his blood boiled even more, and his eyes burned under the pressure.

"What makes you think that you can make decisions for us without consulting us?! Do you think you can carry all the weight in the world just because you were my father's student?!"

Shikadai's tone was defiant, but it also carried with it a hint of pain and confusion. For days he had watched Mirai, noticing her strange behavior and secret conversations with the old woman.

Tension had been rising, and Shikadai had finally exploded.

As Shikadai's words filled the air, the old lady's two subordinates exchanged nervous glances. The atmosphere became even more tense, as if they were standing in the middle of an emotional battlefield.

Finally, Mirai turned to Shikadai, her eyes meeting his. Despite his previous determination, there was a glint of pain in his eyes.

"You don't understand, Shikadai. I can't allow all of you to get involved in this. There are things they do not know, dangers that do not concern them alone... Let me take care of this." Mirai explained with a firmness full of concern. 

Shikadai's face became a storm of emotions in full swing. His eyes widened so wide that it looked like he could swallow the entire horizon. His mouth parted in a grimace of amazement and rage, and for a moment, his mind was flooded with fuzzy memories.

He recalled the death of his father, Shikamaru, who had passed away in his arms while entrusting Mirai with a task. Even though a lot of time had passed, that image was still haunting him, and the feeling of helplessness he had experienced at that moment tormented him in his nightmares.

He also remembered his mother, whose death had been a mystery that had never been fully solved.

The last time he saw her, she had been ill from grim circumstances, and Shikadai blamed himself for not treating her.

His friends, Inojin and Chou Chou, were in the shelter, and Shikadai had watched as their faces grew duller and duller.

Concern for them had also added to his growing anger.

And then, Moegi-sensei, his beloved teacher, who had died in the line of duty. All of this had left a deep mark on him, and now he found himself angry at how all of this had affected those he loved.

"And you do?! How much do you know about the outside world if you're also a refugee?!" Shikadai exploded, using strong, direct language to express his frustration at Mirai's apparent arrogance. 

In the tense atmosphere, when it seemed that the situation was on the verge of exploding into a fight, Mirai's backpack fell heavily to the ground, breaking the silence with a thud. Everyone present tensed, the old woman and her subordinates ready to intervene in case of need.

Mirai advanced towards Shikadai with determination, grabbing him by the shoulders firmly. His red eyes flashed with a vengeful intensity, projecting an imposing and menacing figure as he spoke in a stern tone.

"No, I have no idea how cruel the world can be. None of us know! Because we were raised in an era of peace!"

Her words echoed in the air, shocking Shikadai, who looked at her in surprise, the darkness clouding his face.

"All that doesn't exist anymore, and if I stay here playing happy family, without having the slightest idea of how to face the past world, we'll all face another cataclysm. Many of your friends will die if I don't do the right thing. Do you want that to happen? Inojin-kun? ChouChou-chan? Boruto-kun?"

Mirai continued, her voice losing the intensity of a scream, but maintaining its severity. 

Shikadai's heart pounded in his chest, his emotions stirred by Mirai's words. The old woman tried to intervene, but silence had taken over the place. All stood cold and frozen, while Shikadai stood paralyzed under Mirai's piercing gaze.

"I won't ask you to understand, I'm demanding it." Mirai said firmly, her eyes no longer shining in the same way, but they were still threatening. "Your duty as Chunin is to take care of the lower ranks. Therefore, it is your duty to maintain control in my absence. You're smart enough to know what's at stake if there's a stir among others. Don't let anyone know, and collaborate with grandma."

Shikadai remained frozen, his mind and body in a state of turbulence. His hands trembled slightly, his anger still present despite the intense conversation. Mirai gave her one last stern nod, and Shikadai could feel the weight of his gaze on her back as she walked away.

Even though her words were soft, Mirai's tone resonated firmly. Shikadai watched her as she put on her backpack, feeling helpless and restless.

Her fists clenched tightly, her lips pursed, and her brow furrowed as she watched her walk away. A mixture of emotions came over him, and he didn't know how to process everything that had just happened.

Mirai stood with her back to him, the old woman, and her subordinates, in a tense silence. Shikadai had the feeling that his actions spoke of iron determination, but at the same time, he detected a deep confusion and internal conflict in his rigid posture.

Shikadai's mind was a whirlwind of emotions as he recoiled, accepting the harsh reality of his situation. He had desperately wanted to do something for his parents, to complete what their deaths had left in the air, to be useful as a ninja. He was a Chunin, and his duty was not to sit back, waiting to be protected.

However, he felt limited by fear and uncertainty about what awaited them outside. The feeling of helplessness overwhelmed him as he returned to the side of the old lady and her subordinates.

He never believed that the eleven-year-old Boruto, a student at the Academy and in need of attention and prominence, would be the spitting image of his current feelings; a reflection of what Shikadai would feel just half a year later.

The old woman, with her eyes fixed on the emotional storm that gripped Shikadai, decided to break the awkward silence. His voice, serene but full of wisdom, echoed in the air:

"Shikadai, I understand your frustration and your desire to protect your friends. However, Mirai carries a weight that you may not be able to fully comprehend. She has made this decision for reasons known only to her."

Shikadai nodded regretfully, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground as Mirai's figure walked away with his backpack full of secrets and responsibilities.

"I hope that one day you will be able to understand his choice, even if you do not approve of it. For now, we must continue our duty and fulfill our responsibilities in the shelter. Everyone's safety depends on it."

With a resigned sigh, Shikadai turned to follow the old woman and her subordinates back to the shelter. As they advanced, the image of Mirai was left behind, but her words echoed in Shikadai's mind.

That day, in the midst of the desert and uncertainty, Shikadai had faced a painful truth: being a Chunin did not guarantee that he would always be able to protect those he loved, nor did it grant him the right to do so.

The fragility of life and the difficult decisions that ninjas had to make became more and more apparent.

As he walked to the shelter, Shikadai knew that despite everything, he was still just a child. Although he had been born into Konoha's mind, he had learned that he still had much to discover about the world and about himself.


next chapter

Bab 41: PART 3.

The sound echoed through the air as the blade slammed into the tree. Although it was not a giant among the trees, and certainly did not possess the grandeur of a pine tree, the tree in front of the Nara residence seemed to withstand any blow with its sturdy wooden body.

He swayed gracefully to the evening breeze, as if he prided himself on his endurance. For Shikamaru, however, that pride was a source of disappointment.

Although his Chakra didn't have the nature of the wind, he hoped to at least cause a considerable injury to the tree. If he threw the blade from the air, or from any other position, the weapon, inherited from his master, should dig deep into the trunk.

Shikamaru had spent hours repeating the process over and over again, listening to the repetitive sound of "TOK" or the occasional sigh of frustration.

Around the Land of Fire, the vegetation was varied, with green predominating in all its forms. However, there were few areas with truly unique flowers and trees.

Some speculated that, in the future, those with no experience in using the Chakra might improve their basic skills by using certain medicinal plants. However, this theory was treated with caution by Tsunade-sama.

For Shikamaru, the subject of trees was of particular interest, and he spent time studying their resilience and the ways in which the Chakra interacted with them.

What would happen if the enemy chose to attack from a blind spot?

Shikamaru would have to trust himself, adapt, and act quickly. This meant that its force had to be enough to drive the blade hard and precisely, sinking it deep so that the wind couldn't move it.

The minutes passed, and Shikamaru decided to change his training approach. Instead of throwing the blade, he decided to exercise his own Chakra.

Ever since that fateful day that turned Konoha upside down, he had been testing his skills. Although his revenge had been postponed, he was determined to carry it out, though even he wasn't sure why.

To go and face the enemy without studying him would be suicide. That's why, although I didn't have missions, I continued to work.

Tsunade-sama had appointed him as one of the lookouts charged with guarding the village's secondary gates. He was not the leader of the team, but his record had led him to be recognized, something that now backfired.

What I wanted to do required going unnoticed. He couldn't risk the safety of the village. Because of that, he had paused his visits to the library and his Shōgi games.

His chakra flowed through his arms, wrists, and fingers, mating to the metal of the blade. Just a few days ago, this would have been impossible for him. He was never skilled in hand-to-hand combat, and his paralyzing shadow was usually enough.

Thinking that way was what led Asuma to her death. Shikamaru was not willing to settle for simple customs; He needed to explore various options, be self-sufficient, and venture into unexplored but functional scenarios.

He was now able to bring his Chakra to the blade. He only needed to coordinate both arms at the same time. With the familiarization of the sensation and his self-discovery of the Chakra itself, he was confident that he could easily achieve it by nightfall.

"Shikamaru!"

He recognized that voice in the crowd. It was Ino. His tone, a mixture of affection and firmness, echoed through the air. Ino was not a submissive person, but he radiated sweetness and independence, always concerned about others.

"Yo..." he answered, although his voice revealed the hours of non-stop training. 

Ino was not alone.

Not far from her, Chōji, one of Shikamaru's closest friends, was approaching. Ino let the ash-haired one step forward as she herself approached the black-haired man, greeting him from a distance with a bag of chips in her hand. None of the three were dressed for a mission.

In fact, Shikamaru wouldn't be surprised if his friend invited him to eat after finishing the potatoes, as he didn't carry any bags with him to store more.

Shikamaru did not want to be interrupted. He had resumed his training a couple of days ago. Maybe Mom had left something to reheat... he would give it to Chōji if he found anything.

"Are you sure about this, Shikamaru?" Finally the question came. 

Shikamaru invited them to sit on the porch, to which they both accepted without further insistence. They sat there, watching only Shikamaru as he stared at the blade in his hand.

The rest of his gear and gear were scattered on the porch floor, on top of Shikamaru's open bag. He wanted to make sure he was packing everything he needed and that he didn't forget anything.

Although he trusted his companions, those he would leave in Konoha during his absence, Shikamaru knew it was irresponsible to leave without warning, considering the risks his departure might bring.

Shikamaru did not look at Ino, who was the author of the question. However, I could feel her gaze fixed on him, as if he were scrutinizing the expressionlessness that characterized his face.

He walked over to his team and put down the blades to once again check all his equipment. As he mentally reviewed the function of each tool and studied its plan, the other half of his mind remained with his companions.

He didn't want to ignore them, especially being in his own home. Also, he would be impolite living under his mother's roof if he didn't pay attention to those who had taken the trouble to care about him after the days he spent alone and uninterrupted.

Clearly, they didn't do it on purpose. His consideration was more than admirable, especially considering that he wasn't the funniest or most positive person in the group, and he even thought he didn't deserve it.

Chōji showed an obvious expression of discomfort at the lack of response. He was the kind of person who would rather think twice before speaking to a friend as close as Shikamaru. Therefore, it was Ino who continued the conversation, although no less concerned about the well-being of the black-haired man.

"We are on red alert... and, in addition, there is a curfew." He said, hesitantly, waiting for some reaction from Shikamaru. "Wouldn't it be... too risky to do it today?"

Noticing the slight tremor in Shikamaru's hands and the way his eyes stopped obsessively analyzing his belongings, Chōji intervened to clarify Ino's point, who was looking at him for support.

"What Ino means, Shikamaru, is that it seems very hasty. He explained, looking over Ino's shoulder." The latter looked at him gratefully, though with a hint of anxiety in her eyes. "We can do it in a quieter guard, when ninjas like us are no longer so needed in the village."

Tsunade had discharged many ninjas of the age of the young people present. However, those who were well known, such as Shikamaru, were still working as the highest-ranking ninjas. Although their job was not to fight, but to be the village's defense strategists in case of attack, it was still exhausting.

That tension affected not only the ninjas, but also the civilians. If Tsunade-sama hadn't kept discretion among the ninjas, the people in the village wouldn't just be gossiping. They preferred that people make up stories with each other rather than face the law on their own and further disturb the peace.

That calm had been maintained for two days after a week of gossip and murmurs every time a uniformed man passed by. Not even her mother was aware of the situation in the village, as were other women of the clan who were dedicated only to housework.

But if the world was against them, things could change if they didn't put together a good strategy in case Shikamaru wasn't there to defend the village.

"My father will be here." Shikamaru replied, perplexing his friends as he put his things in his ninja bag. "Uncle Hut, and Uncle Inoichi too. All three are stronger than us, and they know it. The village will be fine."

"But..."

Shikamaru closed her bag and hung it over her shoulder. He noticed that Chōji had finished his potatoes and that served as an excuse to go inside and find him something to snack on while he tried to convince his friends.

They were not obliged to go. They had even been saddened when days ago he mentioned his intentions to attend the confrontation alone. It was obvious to the three of them that this was not going to happen.

But, even though he knew that they would follow him wherever he went, he couldn't stay stuck. He had his reasons for seeming so selfish.

"Kakashi-sensei told me..." Shikamaru began. "That extracting a Bijuu takes a huge effort, and that Akatsuki usually takes seven days."

Ino and Chōji got up from their seats on the porch to listen more comfortably to their friend. They looked worried; The information was new to them.

"The one who killed Asuma-sensei spoke to us as if they weren't going to come back in a short time." He clearly looked angry at being interrupted by something. It must have been someone we weren't able to see.

"You mean... their leader?" Ino asked. "Can they communicate remotely?"

Shikamaru shrugged.

"I don't know. But both, the quiet and the insane, seemed to be called by someone."

There was a moment of silence as Shikamaru allowed Ino and Chōji to analyze his words. He didn't express it explicitly, but the answer was implicit in that event: the unexpected departure of the two members of Akatsuki.

Shikamaru used to keep to himself any theories or events that might influence the creation of strategic plans for dangerous events. But this time, he decided to be honest with his friends, who faithfully followed him on every risky mission.

His expression was already habitual, but this time, he frowned worryingly. He wasn't upset or focused on anything specific, but on someone who stood faceless before his eyes.

"The barrier protecting the village has been failing for three days now, right, Ino?" He asked to make sure he didn't miss any details. 

"Yes, it's true." Her companion replied without further ado. 

Shikamaru observed the void as if trying to glimpse the perpetrator through his own consciousness.

"It acts as if it were moved by slingshots." The Yamanaka clan's protective barriers are very rigorous, and they are almost impossible to penetrate. His remark was directed at Ino, who now remained even more serene than he was. Like a Yamanaka, the subject was quite close to her. "Konoha is not the only one affected. And the delay of those two... Why haven't they come?"

"Shikamaru." His friend called him. "What do you think about so much?"

The Nara stopped before speaking.

"This phenomenon began to calm down two days ago. That is why the constant surveillance was decommissioned." He explained. "Hasn't Akatsuki also had problems with the Chakra?"

Ino and Chōji paled. Although none of them said it expressly in words, they thought the same. The fact that the enemy was also affected meant that this problem was also alien to them.

It was possible that the story of this supposed King and the third Hokage is true.

"Isn't it a theory... too hasty?" Ino asked him. 

However, Shikamaru neither affirmed nor denied; he only observed the largest nothingness that was on the floor of his yard. His thoughts would scatter more orderly if he didn't look anyone in the eye.

"Be that as it may... we cannot treat this as something that only happened to Konoha." Shikamaru said. "If everything the fifth said... True, then this may be something much bigger, and therefore more dangerous."

Chōji gasped in fright. His heart began to pound, and he earned a puzzled look from Ino, for she was not as gullible as he was.

The redhead approached Shikamaru as best he could, clenching his fists at the height of his chest, inflating it too as if doing so gave him more strength to face fear; that fear that, clearly to his friends, was nothing more than a superstition of Chōji's.

"Y-Y-You believe what Tsunade-sama told us?" His friend had asked him hesitantly, with his eyes closed as he usually did. "Even you?!"

Shikamaru, returning to Konoha from the Sand Village, had kept aloof from everything that happened in his absence. It was an enigma that could justify how those portals were opened in Konoha, but not why.

The future, it seemed, was involved. And Shikamaru was one of those who thought that there was no such future. So how can this be happening? Shikamaru had to believe the Hokage, because she wasn't that kind of person.

He had heard from his father that Uncle Inoichi was the one protecting that scroll now. It was deep in the basements used for interrogations, rooms unknown even to Shizune, who was Tsunade's right-hand man.

With something physical involved, he had no choice but to resign himself and believe. It was what his father had recommended him to do, knowing of the many experiences that Shikamaru had had in these few days.

He told Chōji, in simple words, what he thought: that he did not believe that there was such a thing as the future, and that those portals were nothing more than some tertiary event that the King of Trozani knows about, and does not want to say.

Although, having heard what his father received from Kakashi-sensei himself, it would be very wrong to rule out any possibility.

She preferred to stay out of the way and watch things unfold while Konoha remains calm.

"My mom is worse than ever. Ino joined the conversation, with a worried face that still did not leave his face." She crossed her arms over the chest of her orange short-sleeved blouse. "When there's someone who isn't a Ninja in your family, things get more complicated... We cannot tell her everything that happens, since she counts as an ordinary civilian."

"My mom is the same." The Akimichi, turning his back on Shikamaru to address Ino, looked downcast. "He doesn't stop asking Dad questions, he's very insistent."

Chōji wrinkled his face slightly, showing obvious signs of concern. The situation Konoha was in disturbed him to the point of overthinking.

"Hasn't your mother done anything like that?" He asked Ino. 

She opened her eyes wider and stretched out her arms in frustration.

"He doesn't! That's what's making me desperate!" She exclaimed. "I know you know something is wrong! And he is keeping quiet about it...!"

Suddenly, Ino's voice lowered as she realized that she was being watched by Shikamaru, as if an alarm went off in her head.

She was silent for a moment, covering her mouth with both hands and muttering something that was not easy to hear.

Shikamaru believed that she had stopped that behavior since she ascended to Chunin, but she was wrong. She wondered when she would stop acting in such a childish and angelic way at the same time.

"She's not home." Shikamaru reported. The revelation made Ino sigh of relief. However, Shikamaru looked calmly away. "She doesn't ask questions, but I also know she's suspicious. That's what scares us as Ninjas."

His companions looked at him attentively.

The Ino-Shika-Chou had been the protagonist of many battles for generations of Shinobi. In the veins of all three, the blood of war heroes flowed, and the reputation of their ancestors was marked on their foreheads.

People's expectations, influenced by legends, had been made clear in the Chunin exams of a couple of years ago: no civilian expected anything from them.

In fact, his generation was not much more prominent than the previous one.

Only the restaurant owners they used to turn to remembered them fondly, thanks to Chōji being the one who kept his business going at a good pace.

However, there was something that no civilian noticed when they talked about their parents.

Their wives, their families.

Did they really know their mother? What was she like? What was his name?

It was unlikely that they would know much about her, but it was crucial to consider this factor if one was to humanize a man known for his strength.

Did anyone think about the family he left at home?

The answer was simple: no one did.

Because, even if it crossed someone's mind, it wasn't their priority. Each person in the village had his own family, his own place, and his own problems.

Then, his mother was alone.

She was just another civilian, relegated to a corner where only she existed, waiting for the two most important men in her life to return home safely.

Their unique concerns fell on them. How would he feel when he thought about what was happening in the village?

Mom was a strong-willed woman, but she didn't meddle in her husband's work. He could disappear for a night, and though she might claim him, she would never blame him for it. It was a necessary setback.

But even if his mother was at home, it didn't mean she was safe just by locking the door.

"Don't hesitate."

Ino roused him from his reverie.

There she was, in front of him, with a somewhat indeterminate presence, her blonde friend. Although she stuck out her chest and clenched her fists, she didn't seem completely convinced of her decision. It was hard to explain. It was as if it were an internal struggle between the rules and their principles.

And both things were good. This made it difficult to combat the two essences.

Ino swallowed nervously.

"I'll follow you anywhere, no matter what the Hokage says." His eyes, crystalline and full of determination, watched him attentively. 

They looked like two transparent drops of water resisting a brightness not yet present in the present time. It was an unknown, beautiful, luminescent apparition in the young woman's eyes. Shikamaru was stunned by that spark he felt when he looked into her eyes, but Ino's voice brought him back to reality.

"I won't let you go alone, Shikamaru."

"Yes, of course..." he replied, still adapting to his surroundings. 

At that moment, his friend soon appeared for Shikamaru to notice, although it was not necessary. His knowing smile lit him up, and although he seemed much less nervous than Ino, Shikamaru knew that Chōji was least concerned about the Hokage's thoughts.

"So what?" Chōji whispered almost anxiously. "When will we do it?"

Realizing that Shikamaru hadn't grasped the question, still stunned by the situation, he smiled at him friendlyly, scratching behind his ear.

"I'm still included in the plan, right?"

After looking at him for a few seconds, he couldn't help but let out a soft laugh upon noticing Chōji's anxiety.

"But how can you think that?" He answered. In front of him, his two childhood friends stared into his eyes, while he gazed at the sky. 

Their master, as present in the team as the day he left, was the main reason why the three of them remained united, converging on an uncertain path where the path blurred at every step, but denying any mistake that any of them from the tenth team might make.

Chōji and Ino were physically present, but they seemed distant as they observed something hiding in the light of Shikamaru's eyes. There was a nostalgic, childlike, melancholy glow, but they could not point to its origin or ask if others had perceived it.

It was like a shared knowledge, a natural reaction that didn't need to be verbalized.

The presence of that glow was not to be questioned.

"I will always count on the two of you in my plans." Shikamaru thought calmly, as if he were reflecting in the depths of his being. 

Thanks to his keen ear and familiarity with his surroundings, the sound of the road near the Nara residence announced the arrival of someone. The footsteps echoed, slow and deliberate, as if they carried a light weight with them.

Mom had arrived.

(~~~)

With just a couple of hours to go until dusk, Himawari had filled an entire basket of tiny flowers.

Recently, Osuka had been sharing fun secrets about her family with her, on a night when they both stayed up late.

Taking advantage of the fact that the three guards of the house were busy enough not to notice them sleeping between the sheets on the floor, Himawari and Osuka exchanged ideas on how to maintain different facades in front of the others.

Osuka shared that as a child, before her mother's career took off and she became a well-known actress, she used to create flower wreaths with her. Osuka had always been a little girl who liked pink, makeup, and attention, so she enjoyed every moment of that hobby.

Himawari devised a plan to have an excuse to leave the apartment from time to time. Although he felt bad for lying to Osuka, who had placed his trust in the midst of fear, he did not see it as something so negative in the long run.

In fact, it might be an opportunity for Osuka herself to come out and realize that the past wasn't as bad as she thought.

This was the third day they had gone out together. It was not a frequent occurrence, as Osuka often swapped places with other children.

However, today, while being seen by Sumire, they were discussing the number and variety of flowers they would carry, as well as the method Harika would use to create the floral wreaths.

"When Neon came out with you and Sumire-san, Yuina-chan made a great daisy necklace. Not bad for a beginner." Osuka commented in his usual refined but deathly tone. 

Himawari considered this a good sign. Osuka was coming back!

If she, who was the least collaborative of all the others, opened up while outside, she had no doubt that soon her other companions would also be outside the doors. I was starting to feel anxious, but I understood that each person has their own pace in moving forward.

I was determined to move forward, to adapt and to grow in this new world.

He didn't have the right skill to fight. An adult who knew about his condition would say something like, "You're not old enough to fight." But as Hima walked the streets of a Konoha more than ten years ago, he realized that this was misused.

Any age is enough to fight, but not to win. Fighting did not guarantee victory, and you have to be able to adapt to your environment and grow with it. That way, Himawari believed that she would witness her own advancement and would no longer need Sumire's worry for her to look at her.

She longed to be seen as someone to confide secrets to, someone anyone could turn to if they needed to.

But she was a girl. He was just someone who was old enough to take the academy exam.

So when Himawari first came out and tried to study Sumire's behavior, he opted for a bolder route, even though he felt it would serve him well in the future.

She was the last Hyuga left of that destroyed future. Therefore, the Hyuga's knowledge was limited to their age, which was almost insufficient. He couldn't face anyone with his current abilities, and he didn't want to do it now either.

Due to the peace and lack of attention they had received, Sumire-san and the two Anbu were making progress in their tasks to protect the village, slowly but surely. This left Himawari a couple of hours to carry out his own analysis and preparation.

Since she couldn't stand by Sumire-san's side, she had to study everything from her position as a protégé.

As well as devising an option for income, she also made a list of the tasks she had to do for the possible scenario in which she had to escape with her friends, and even hide.

He had a full night to think about it, but he managed to put together the preparations.

He took into account the time limit that Ro-san and Hinoko-san had against them. His absence right now proved that obstacle.

Hinoko-san and Ro-san would be detected by the barrier. He heard a couple of nights ago that they would stay longer outside the village, so that, in the event of being detected, they would not be caught with Sumire and the children, who were apparently invisible to those who detected the Chakra.

That was a plus point for Himawari.

When Sumire-san went out to follow the inspection routine, she used to take two children with her. Most of the time, it was Himawari who went out three times a day with a different friend.

But when Sumire-san returned with her on the first outing and they returned with food, she refused on the second outing, and then accepted the last one of the day.

The gap left by the second start was the most important thing.

He had Osuka in charge of the entrances and Yuina memorizing the use of the medicinal herbs that Sumire collected the day before.

At the Academy, they used to learn about their use, but it would be better for him to learn it from its root: how to find them in the field and how to extract them from the ground. Himawari did her best to have Yuina accompany her when they went out in search of medicinal herbs.

In Eho's case, it was much more difficult for him. Eho was, at first, a child who was provoked by the wind: he used to run at full speed, shouting that he would be a powerful ninja. But once he joined cordially at the Academy, his mood swing was markedly different, for the better.

He was calmer in provocations, although a little more cowardly and reserved. However, that change benefited Himawari with the boy's confidence, leading to numerous interactions with him. These interactions, in turn, caused Himawari to enter limbo for minute moments.

One of those times was when Sumire-san arrived, accompanied by Harika, with bread and butter. Eho had swallowed what she was allowed and, in addition to commenting on the little variety of food she had to agree to eat for her sake, she also asked Himawari why she ate nonstop, very different from the days when they had to eat canned food.

He had to concoct a simple but believable story, aware of Sumire-san's quick perception and understanding.

If I were to find out that he was hiding food somewhere, I would question him later.

The food was sheltered in a safe place. When he had food that would not spoil in his hands, Himawari would hide it from view to take to the hiding place when it was his turn to go out.

Like then, in an open, green field, in the hills inside the village. Sumire-san knew they were undetectable, but they risked being easily identified as strangers outside the walls of Konoha, which would land them in trouble if the village was looking for them.

Himawari carefully surveyed his surroundings.

Osuka would talk to her about creative ways to make flower crowns with different types of flowers, while they both sat there, picking the most beautiful ones. Although Himawari's expression was neutral and calm, he was actually watching as not far away from them, Sumire-san picked her own flowers.

His face was not visible from his position.

As the days of departures passed, Sumire-san placed more trust in Himawari. This action allowed the lavender-haired woman to have more time alone with her friends, as Sumire gradually gave them her space.

It wasn't long before Himawari realized that the reason for this action was likely due to Sumire's trust in her, as Boruto's younger sister. A friend to whom, beyond what Himawari knew, Sumire owed his life.

" I'm so sorry, Onii-chan, Sumire-san. With this behavior, I am taking advantage of their good friendship." Himawari thought silently. He showed interest in Osuka's inaudible words and continued. " I have to find the perfect opportunity to hide the supplies I was able to collect. But it has to be without Sumire-san noticing."

Himawari stood firm in his decision. If nothing bad happened, then it would also be a good thing, and his work would not be looked down upon. It would be a good anecdote, and the well-being of her friends would make her feel good about herself.

It weighed on her heart to have to lie to them.

Everyone trusted her because of her strong will and desire to move forward. She hadn't given up, and she really wanted to stay in Konoha, even if she wasn't the same anymore.

However, if Sumire-san found out that she planned to investigate on her own, they would probably distract her with something else to keep her away from the spotlight. And Himawari didn't want that; Besides, he didn't want to get his friends in trouble.

It hurt to have to take advantage of his trust, kindness, and good intentions. All to keep your plan in a state of preparation confidential.

He smiled at the proud Osuka and her flowers, which would be used to sell.

He congratulated Yuina for her growing knowledge in medicine and even helped her study.

It was no problem to talk to Neon about maps, since, due to the time, technology was practically scarce. He talked to him about maps until he was tired, and on one of their outings, they visited the public library together and read about them.

To finish, he had fun with Harika. It was ironic that, being in nothingness itself, with few food rations and a small space (as well as sleeping on the cold floor), Himawari was so interested in Harika's insects.

She was just a student at the Academy. His parents hadn't had time to teach him everything an Aburame had to know.

So, just as he did with Neon, he helped her as best he could in the treatment of her insects. He knew about them, although he could not memorize more than five names and the owner of each one. All the bugs looked the same to Hima, and Harika used to be very delicate with them.

He had fun. In each of his plans, which were supposed to be painful lies... He had fun.

Was it something to feel bad about?

To be preparing her friends without them knowing, for something that was much more than they could bear, was something that saddened her. And it made her angry with herself.

She felt bad, but at the same time, satisfied that she had given them some distraction, after having cried her eyes out when she touched the past ground.

She did not call herself their "Savior."

She preferred to be simply "Himawari Uzumaki".

A simple girl, with limited talent and no techniques.

But with the goal of seeing his brother again.

And to achieve this, he had to take action. To give the Konoha ninjas who were summoned outside a reason to return and feel safe. To go back to their roots and fight together as they should always have. Even if their positions prevented them from facing each other face to face.

But his intentions were not motivated solely by protecting Konoha. That wouldn't be fair to her, who had vowed not to change.

That person could be suffering the consequences of time reversal. He knew it more than anyone.

She and Boruto weren't the only ones mourning the loss of the Hokage, as if he were one of their own children. And I was determined that they would go back to the way they were before, not just Boruto and her.

I longed for all three of them to go back to what they were.

" If only I had noticed sooner, Kawaki-kun."

(~~~)

"With vital signs?"

" Yes."

"No changes in the serum?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Not even a slight expression?! Any nightmares?"

The young nurse substitute covered her face with the medical history of the patient she was treating. Her black hair, pulled back in a high bun, shook as she raised her defense to the exasperation of the nurse in charge of her supervision.

Sweat soaked his body, his legs trembled, and his eyes itched.

"Why did you choose this job?" was a question she was often asked.

And it was no wonder. In a world where being a ninja was more valued by society, it was understandable that those around her questioned her choices.

However, she knew. Wasn't it a little silly to ask someone like her, who couldn't see a drop of blood, why she hadn't chosen to be a ninja?

It seemed like she was the only one aware of it, but she didn't have the confidence to face the countless criticisms she received from everyone around her. Awake for more than 35 hours, she had been there, standing, attentive to any movement a particular patient might make.

And it's not that he neglected the rest of the patients. Although the Arena Village didn't have medical ninjas of Tsunade's caliber, they could treat anyone who entered the hospital gates.

Only, in this case, the patient was noticeably different, the strangest they had ever received.

He was a boy who was no more than fourteen years old, with brown hair, a white complexion and slanted eyes. Its weight was appropriate for her age, and from the appearance of her hands, even she could tell that it was a Shinobi.

As a nurse who had treated many, she knew well what a Shinobi's hands looked like when she saw them. Although that boy, wearing the Arena's ninja uniform hanging in his room, might go unnoticed and be rejected, his hands, smaller than an adult's, told a different story.

"Tch, with this, is the last option we have left." The same firm voice roused her from her thoughts. It was the nurse in charge, who was lying with her back to the unconscious child. "Obviously, abusing drugs would be counterproductive. The most we can do is go back to what we did before."

The young substitute blinked, hugging the boy's medical history. Although he brought with him belongings that identified him as a resident of Sand Village, he had no prior medical history or record inside the village.

"No treatment... Um."

"It's the only option." Her colleague in the medical field asked her to hold the folder with only two sheets of paper as a medical record. "The doctor has done his best, and it looks like he's not in a coma. It's like I'm just having a deep sleep!"

"And I... What should I do? Not sure if it was appropriate to ask that, the young substitute regretted doing so."

However, unexpectedly for her, the nurse in charge simply handed the folder back and slid the door carefully out of the room. Although she could be considered authoritarian, she was very meticulous with her patients, a virtue that the young substitute appreciated, despite her fear of the woman.

"Just make sure he's breathing. Kazekage-sama want him to be in good hands." He said, and his tone, somehow, sounded complacent as he walked away. "Try not to fall asleep in the process."

"... Hai."

Although he had already left, he did not consider it appropriate not to confirm that he had heard the order.

More than a week had passed and the young man still showed no signs of waking up.

The most serious wounds were in the process of healing, and the bruises on his face were disappearing.

His body seemed to recover well, and even the doctor had mentioned that if he woke up, he could be discharged immediately. After studying him for a few days, they realized something that set him apart from other ninjas of his age who arrived unconscious.

The boy, beyond a false alarm when he believed that his vital signs had been lost, seemed to be simply asleep.

With calm and controlled breathing, as if he already knew what he had to do. His expression was neutral and there had been no change in days.

The few times he moved, they weren't even voluntary. The nurse in charge used to exercise his limbs to keep him healthy, in case he woke up and was incapacitated.

Although the latter was rejected by the doctor. The boy was healthy, with only the traces of a beating marked on his body.

"I wonder why it is so important to Gaara-sama." The young nurse wondered. "I seem to remember that rumors are already spreading about him..."

His shift had started more than a couple of days ago. However, the nurses who were present at the boy's arrival had confided in her some rumors that she did not accept so easily.

Some said that the boy was an outsider disguised as a child, trying to deceive the good heart of his Kazekage, Gaara.

Others, more attached to reality and less influenced by fanaticism towards the teenage Kazekage, told him that they had witnessed a strange metallic cloud surrounding the building completely while the Kazekage, his brothers, and some of Konoha's ninja were inside, visiting the sleeping boy.

A cloud of metal...

Anyone who belonged to the Sand Village would know who to associate with metal. In the past, one of the Kazekage had a similar ability; a powerful ability that many envied and most feared.

This ability was related to the same technique that Gaara-sama used, and even the one used by Gaara-sama's father, the previous Kazekage. A technique that allowed them to manipulate some kind of sand.

But metal... It was something completely special. No one had managed to manipulate it, and few had seen the ancient Kazekage use that technique. Even back then, it was believed that seeing such a technique was a bad omen and should be avoided at all costs.

Of course, she wasn't old enough to claim the same, as the era of that Kazekage had passed many years ago. But she wasn't lucky enough to have witnessed that "metal cloud" surrounding the village hospital, either.

Being completely ignorant of the situation, she decided that it would be best to concentrate on her work. If she did well during these weeks, she would receive a good grade and get her official permission to work as a real nurse in any building.

Her grandparents, who had raised her since she was a child, waited for her every night. He knew this because he thought he had seen his grandfather in the waiting room on the previous nights, when he could not return home due to the workload.

For a moment, she hesitated whether to feel upset or offended by it, until she put herself in her grandparents' shoes.

They had already lost a son, and seeing their granddaughter grow up caused them anxiety that no one could alleviate. Because of that, she decided to simply ignore that presence, knowing that her grandfather had no intention of being seen by her.

She would have returned home to explain everything to them in a calmer manner if she had not been assigned to the care of the mysterious child under the nurse's supervision. Gaara-sama was the main reason why doctors, nurses, and nurses tried their best to see the mysterious young man awaken.

With everything already done and his task limited to observation, he decided that it would be better to distract himself with other things.

Sorting out the furniture that had been displaced by unexpected visitors, folding and refolding the boy's clothes, going out to discard the water and the withered flower to return with a replacement. Performing these tasks took him no more than forty minutes.

During those forty minutes, the boy continued to breathe without interruption. So serene, as if the anxiety of many who were waiting for his awakening had been channeled into tiredness in his body.

Involuntarily, he let out a sigh. She couldn't divert her attention to other patients, as they might not need her. The building was crowded with interns like her, some with good and some with bad attempts to provide medical assistance, but all were welcome.

He was more useful inside the room than outside.

If something happened to the child, it would be the nurse in charge of his supervision who would receive the reprimand (although she was elsewhere, doing everything but supervising him). Even so, she thought that she did not exempt her responsibility, so she did not make any derogatory comments towards that woman.

"The room..." The young lady blinked a couple of times to clear her vision. 

The architecture of the Sand Village was mainly based on stone and concrete of the same color, so she, as a young woman born and raised there, did not look down on the room. However, he noticed a brief darkening in the lighting of the place.

At night, the room was lit only by a lamp at one end. The light outside gradually diminished, as if the clouds were covering the moon, until it became a momentary cloudiness.

Although he thought about opening the window to comment on the darkening, he decided it wasn't a good idea. Her job was to keep the boy healthy, and she couldn't risk him a possible cold. However, despite his good judgment and moving carefully so as not to alter anything he had ordered, the temperature of the room dropped significantly.

Initially it wasn't cold, but now you could feel a heat that froze the blood, making the hairs on her skin stand on end. A shiver ran down the back of her neck, neck, and back, causing an involuntary agitation that shook her completely.

As she looked at the sleeping boy, she noticed that his breathing was still calm, but the sweat on his face indicated that it was not a personal feeling. There was no other option.

With a quick step, he approached the only window in the room and slid it to the left. It was gratifying to feel the cool breeze come in and caress her cheeks. She pulled away as if trying to direct the cold air at the boy, whose head rested on the pillow in the dim moonlight.

The Sand Village was always imbued with a warm climate during the day, but at the same time,

At dusk, the temperature dropped, causing the inhabitants to yearn for the usual heat. With that in mind, he rearranged the window, sliding it a little farther to the right to prevent a cold, leaving an open gap through which a thread of pure light filtered down and fell directly on the sleeping boy.

Suddenly, a slight crack, or perhaps more like a click, reached her ears from behind, causing her to immediately turn to the window. But, as expected, there was nothing there.

The nurse interlaced her fingers, clenching her fists as her fingernails touched her palm, a gesture of anxiety. Not expecting any further fright, he moved closer and placed his hands on the wall by the window. The moon shone with its peculiar whitish hue, standing out against the dark night sky. Looking down, he noticed that the streets were deserted and decided to leave the window open.

"Hm." she muttered to herself, her eyes fixed on the crescent moon shining in the sky. 

But as she enjoyed the view, a sense of relaxation enveloped her completely, as if she were being caressed by the same moonlight. He rested one hand on the wall by the window and the other on the curtain, preparing to close it after his brief moment of contemplation.

However, oblivious to the young nurse's knowledge, an unimaginable power was awakening behind her. Tiny, barely perceptible particles seeped out the corners of the window, under the closet doors, down the walls, and under the bed, out of his mesmerized sight.

The black particles coalesced into a metallic mass on the bed, moving toward the core of their power. The screeching sound and clicking sounds increased, but they were inaudible to the ear deafened by the inexplicable hypnosis.

The metal mass gained significant weight and the bed began to complain. The machine that showed control of the vital organ began to beep repeatedly, forming a chant that completely enveloped it in the luminescent world that lay before it.

Something inside the metal mass made a noise and moved in protest, as if it were alive and struggling.

The person under his power barely managed to get his right arm out to keep it away from the touch of the metal. With her arm dangling from the side of the bed and her hand making its last moves before falling back asleep, the young nurse finally reacted.

The repetitive noise of the machine woke her up and, with a muffled screech in surprise at not having noticed it sooner, she turned around. The curtains fluttered as a last warning, as the hand hanging from the bed struggled to hold its ground, desperately grasping the shape beneath all that metal mass.

The girl's eyes crystallized immediately, unable to emit sound other than an inaudible scream. His legs gave way and whatever he was seeing grew, surpassing his height and causing tears to flow desperately from his eyes as he looked up.

Almost at the same time, a deafening rumble resounded throughout the Sand Village. Two evil omens came together, one of them being another dire omen for the world.


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