Kushina clapped her hands together once, loud enough to make Naruto jump.
"Alright, that's enough standing around," she said briskly. "Naruto, say bye to your friends. Training starts now."
"E–Eh? Already?!" Naruto yelped.
She hooked two fingers in the back of his collar and started dragging him anyway.
"What, you thought 'special training' came with a vacation first?" she snorted. "You've got one month. That's barely enough time to hammer anything into that stubborn skull of yours, dattebane."
Sakura stepped aside quickly before she got run over.
"G-Good luck, Naruto!" she blurted, hands cupped around her mouth.
"Yeah, yeah! I'll totally crush it, just watch!" Naruto called back, even as he flailed in his mother's grip.
Sasuke glanced over once, hands still in his pockets.
"Oi, Kakashi," Kushina called over her shoulder without stopping.
Kakashi tilted his head.
"Hm?"
"If you get this kid killed," she jerked her chin at Sasuke, "I'll put you in a sealing matrix and make you read every single volume of that orange trash out loud to the Third Hokage. In public. In the middle of the village square."
Kakashi's visible eye creased.
"…Terrifying," he said mildly. "I'll keep that in mind."
Sasuke's mouth twitched, caught between a scoff and something else.
Kushina gave him a short nod.
Then she just dragged Naruto toward the exit, red hair swaying like a flag.
--
Outside the exam tower, the afternoon air hit them like a wall.
Naruto finally managed to twist free of her grip, stumbling a step back and rubbing his neck.
"Kaa-chan, seriously! I can walk!" he complained. "I just finished a match, y'know! I need, like… emotional recovery time or something!"
Kushina stared at him.
Then she reached out and flicked his forehead hard.
"Ow!!"
"Emotional recovery time, my ass," she said flatly. "You were bouncing around like a hyperactive frog just now. Don't start pretending you're fragile on me."
Naruto clutched his head, pouting.
"…You're so mean," he grumbled. "Other moms say 'oh, my son worked so hard today, let's go eat something nice'…"
Kushina's eyebrow twitched.
She just stared at him for a long second, expression flat.
"…You know what," she said at last, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I'm not even gonna answer that. If I start comparing myself to 'other moms' with you as my sample, I'll get a headache."
Naruto laughed awkwardly, scratching his head.
"…When you say it like that, it kinda sounds bad," he muttered.
Then he quieted, shoulders sinking a little.
"…So… what are we gonna do?" he asked, looking up at her. "I mean… what kind of training?"
Kushina's expression shifted.
The exasperation didn't vanish, but something steadier slid in underneath it—an old, familiar flame.
"First, we're going home. You're getting food, a bath, and sleep. None of that 'I totally went to bed, dattebayo' nonsense when you actually sneak out to bully Rasengan until you drop, dattebane."
Naruto's grin came back for real this time.
"Yeah!"
"Let's do it."
--
Konohagakure at night was a different world from its bustling daytime self.
The streets that teemed with noise and life under the sun were now wrapped in an eerie quiet.
Most shops had long since closed their doors; only a few shady places that dealt in "special materials" still had a dim light leaking through their curtains.
By this hour, most people should've already drifted into sleep, lost in their own sweet dreams.
But one man clearly had no intention of resting.
A sickly-looking figure with a slender build, short brown hair, dark eyes, and heavy dark circles under them was squatting on a rooftop, silently watching the village below.
Cough, cough…
After a while, he shifted his weight, moving to a more comfortable position as his gaze fixed in a single direction. He wasn't just aimlessly watching—he clearly had a target in mind.
This man was none other than Hayate Gekkō, the proctor of the Chūnin Exam preliminaries.
Yugao… don't worry. I'll help you, no matter what…
I know… I know there must be a reason you're not willing to tell me anything. But I'm sure… I'm sure you really want to come back to Konoha again…
Hayate tightened his grip on the tiled edge of the roof, sadness and determination quietly burning in his eyes.
Then he took a slow breath, forcing down another cough as he straightened up.
Enough watching.
In the next instant, his figure blurred.
With a soft whoosh, he vanished from the rooftop, the night swallowing him as he leapt from shadow to shadow, his body flicker technique carrying him swiftly across the village.
Roof tiles passed beneath his sandals in a steady rhythm. Lanterns flickered distantly. The cool night wind brushed against his face, but his thoughts were far noisier than the sleeping village below.
Snow Hidden Village… that so-called "new ally."
Yugao… why would you be with them of all people?
He clenched his teeth, landing silently on another rooftop before pushing off again.
No… there's no way you'd just abandon Konoha.
You're not that kind of kunoichi. I know you better than anyone.
Images of Yugao flashed through his mind—her serious face while training, the way she'd scold him for overtraining despite his cough, the quiet warmth in the way she'd call his name.
His eyes narrowed.
So if you're walking with them now… it's not because you want to.
Someone's forcing you.
Maybe they're using someone close to you as a hostage… maybe they've done something to your memories…
The more he thought about it, the more "certain" he became.
He landed lightly on a high wall, crouching low as he looked toward the district where the foreign genin were being housed. The Snow Hidden team's assigned inn stood quietly in the dark, a faint light visible behind paper windows on the second floor.
Hayate's gaze sharpened.
There it is…
He sank down, suppressing his chakra as much as his worn body allowed, blending into the darkness along the roof's shadow. His breathing grew faint, steady from years of special training and covert missions.
Yugao… just wait a little longer.
Even if the Hokage hasn't moved yet… even if the village chooses diplomacy… I… I can't just stand by and watch you be used like this.
His fingers curled against the tiles, knuckles whitening.
If it's for you, I don't mind being the bad guy in the report later.
I'll drag you back if I have to. Even if you hate me for it… as long as you're safe in Konoha, that's enough.
He shifted his position, inching forward along the roofline so he could overlook the Snow Hidden team's windows more clearly. Every small movement was careful, measured, a testament to his experience—yet his heart was anything but calm.
You're probably scared right now, right?
Acting strong on the surface… pretending to cooperate… waiting for someone from Konoha to notice and pull you out…
He let out a bitter, quiet chuckle under his breath.
…Don't worry.
I noticed.
I'll be that idiot who rushes in for you.
Settling into position, Hayate's dark eyes locked onto the inn, his mind already sketching out reckless "rescue plans" that completely ignored political complications, the Chūnin Exams, and the fact that he was only one sickly jōnin.
In his heart, he had already cast himself as the lone hero facing down a hidden conspiracy—
and Yugao as the captive waiting to be saved.
Just as Hayate drew near the inn's roofline, he slowed down, letting his chakra suppress even further.
From here, he could see the outline of the Snow Hidden team's rooms more clearly.
…This still isn't enough.
Just watching from the shadows wouldn't get him any real answers. No matter how long he stayed here, he'd only keep guessing.
If I want information… I have to move.
His gaze hardened.
Forget trying to talk to Yugao directly. She… she wouldn't tell me anything like this.
He knew her too well.
That woman was stubborn to the bone.
If I confront her face to face, she'll just shut me out… smile, deflect, and lie straight to my face.
But the genin…
He narrowed his eyes.
They won't be as guarded. If I quietly grab one of them—just for a while—ask a few questions without causing a scene…
In his mind, it all sounded reasonable. A clean operation. In and out before anyone even noticed. Just enough pressure to make them talk.
If they're manipulating Yugao… if they're holding something over her… I'll squeeze it out of them.
Decision made, Hayate moved.
He slipped from the rooftop edge like a shadow peeling away from the night itself, body flicker carrying him down toward a darker, unwatched corner of the inn's outer wall. From there, he could slip inside soundlessly, neutralize a target, and—
Now...
The moment his sandal touched the next rooftop, the world moved faster than his eyes.
Something white tore through the darkness.
Shff! Shff! Shff!
"—?!"
Pain exploded through his limbs before he even understood what had happened.
White bone spears burst up from the tiles beneath him, skewering cleanly through his hands and thighs and nailing him to the rooftop like an insect on a board.
"—!!"
His body jerked, back arching, muscles spasming.
He tried to scream...
But a golden chain snapped out of nowhere with a sharp crack through the air, wrapping around his face and forcing itself between his teeth, gagging him in one smooth, practiced motion.
Kh—!!
His scream died in his throat, smothered into a muffled, broken sound.
Drip… drip…
Warm blood trickled from his pierced hands and legs, pattering onto the tiles beneath him. Every tiny movement sent a new wave of white-hot pain knifing up his spine. He could feel the foreign hardness of bone driven right through flesh and muscle, completely pinning him in place.
His usually dull, dead-fish eyes were stretched wide open now, trembling as the reality sank in.
How… fast…?
He hadn't even sensed the attack properly.
One second, he'd been preparing to slip in.
The next, he was crucified to a rooftop.
A low buzz filled the air.
Four chakra signatures flickered into view around him, appearing at different angles—front, back, both flanks—as if they'd been waiting for this exact moment.
One of them stepped up to the window, backlit by the faint light from inside the inn.
Hayate recognized her immediately.
The blindfolded girl.
The one who had "won" her preliminary match earlier in the Chūnin Exams—not by overwhelming her opponent, but by making them abruptly forfeit. At the time, he'd found it suspicious.
"There's no one else, sensei…"
She raised a hand and lifted her blindfold with two fingers, revealing just one eye as she quietly scanned the area.
That was all it took.
The moment Hayate saw that eye, his already-wide eyes shook even more violently.
Th–that…
The veins around it bulged faintly, forming a telltale pattern he knew all too well.
The Byakugan…?!
That oppressed, suffocating sense of being seen through washed over him in an instant, dragging up old memories of patrolling alongside Hyūga clansmen on night missions.
How can this be…?
This girl…
Could it be—
Hinata… Hyūga Hinata…?
The girl who had vanished from the village after that incident years ago. Whose records had been sealed. Whose name was only spoken in quiet, uncomfortable debriefings.
Why… why is she here… with them…?
Before he could chase that thought any further, the other three figures stepped closer into the dim light.
One of them was all too familiar.
No… when he looked properly, they all were.
His heart lurched.
"That saves us the trouble then," came a calm, cool voice from his left.
Among the four, a woman with a Snow forehead protector around her waist relaxed visibly at Hinata's words, her posture unwinding just a little.
"Good work, Hinata," she added lightly.
Hayate didn't need to see her face clearly to recognize that voice.
"…Yugao…"
Even gagged, even half-choking on his own blood, he mouthed her name.
The way she spoke. The tone she used. The casual, almost bored professionalism of a kunoichi used to ambush and clean-up operations.
Hearing her speak so calmly while he was pinned and bleeding made the air around him feel suddenly colder.
His body trembled uncontrollably.
Why… why do you sound so at ease, Yugao…?
A heavy, suffocating feeling welled up from the pit of his stomach, crawling up his chest and squeezing around his heart.
This… this is wrong…
Something was very, very wrong...
And for the first time tonight, Hayate Gekkō had the horrifying thought that he might not be the one "saving" anyone here.
Yugao's gaze slid over Hayate once, cool and assessing.
Then her eyes shifted.
"Karin."
The redhead had been leaning back against the rooftop rail, arms folded under her chest, watching the scene like it was mildly interesting entertainment. At the call, she raised one eyebrow.
"Tch. So we are letting him talk," she said, lips curling into a lazy grin. "Here I thought we were skipping straight to disposal."
Still, she uncrossed her arms.
With a casual snap of her fingers, the golden chain wrapped around Hayate's mouth shimmered, then unraveled into glowing fragments, dissolving into the night like fireflies.
Hayate sucked in a ragged breath the second his throat was free.
"Kh—!"
Air rushed into his lungs along with the taste of blood. He coughed, hard, crimson splattering down the front of his flak jacket and dripping from his chin.
For a moment, all he could do was wheeze.
"…Yugao…"
Her name tore itself out of his throat, raw and hoarse.
His vision swam, but he still forced his head up, straining against the bones pinning him. The movement sent another spike of agony through his body, but he didn't care.
"Yugao… it's… it's me…"
But all he got in response was silence.
Boots clicked softly against the tiles as Yugao stepped closer, the others shifting slightly to give her space.
The angle of the moonlight left her face in shadow—he could make out the outline of her hair, the curve of her shoulders, the glint of her forehead protector at her waist but not her expression.
"Yugao," he rasped again, breath hitching. "You… you don't have to keep this up. I—I get it now."
He coughed, chest spasming, fresh blood wetting his lips.
"You're… you're being forced, right?"
"..."
He barreled on anyway, words tumbling out in a desperate rush.
"They've… they've got something on you. A hostage. A seal. Some kind of control jutsu… I don't know what it is, but—" he swallowed hard, tasting copper, "—but I know you. You wouldn't… you wouldn't turn your back on Konoha for real."
He fixed his gaze on her silhouette, willing her to have some kind of a reaction.
"Whatever they've done to you… whatever they're making you do… you don't have to carry it alone. If you come back now, if you just step away from them—"
His voice cracked.
"—I'll say it was my call. That I dragged you back by force," he panted. "You can say I ambushed you. That I threatened your life. I don't care. As long as you're… standing in Konoha again… as long as you're safe…"
He drew another shuddering breath.
"…it's enough."
Out of the corner of his eye, Karin made a quiet, amused sound.
"Wow," she murmured, even more entertained now. "He's really going for the tragic romance angle. Kinda gutsy, for someone pinned like a kebab."
Kimimaro didn't respond, bone protrusions still holding firm, expression unreadable. Haku watched with a calm expression, eyes half-lidded, the breeze teasing at his hair.
Hinata stood by the window, blindfold lifted just enough to keep her Byakugan active, gaze sweeping the surroundings even as her lips pressed together at Hayate's words.
But none of them interrupted.
Yugao's footsteps stopped in front of him.
From Hayate's angle, he could only see her up to the knees clearly—the rest swallowed by shadow and moonlight.
"…Do you have any idea," he whispered, "how worried I was?"
Yugao still didn't respond to any of his words…
But Hayate didn't seem to care as to Hayate, that silence felt like proof.
Proof she was conflicted. Proof his words were getting through. Proof that somewhere under whatever mask she was wearing now, his Yugao was still listening.
"…Yugao," he said softly. "Just say the word. I'll—"
"Shut up."
Those were the first words he heard from Yugao that night after everything he had said.
Hayate felt something lodge in his chest.
The words dropped like ice water over his head.
Her voice was flat and didn't feel conflicted at all—just coldly irritated, like she was tired of listening to background noise.
Yugao's hand moved.
Fingers closed around the hilt at her waist, drawing it in a smooth, unhurried motion.
Steel whispered free of its sheath with a clean shing.
The purple blade—Murasaki, the sword her master had gifted her—caught the moonlight as it came out, a soft amethyst gleam running along the edge. That faint glow finally cut across her face, burning away the protective cover of shadow.
For the first time tonight, Hayate saw her expression clearly.
He almost wished he hadn't.
Yugao was looking down at him with an utterly blank face, with no warmth whatsoever.
Just a cool, distant gaze…
…and a thin layer of unmistakable disgust underneath, as if she were staring at something pathetic stuck to the bottom of her sandal.
Hayate's breath hitched.
"Yu…gao…?" he managed, the word barely more than a croak.
Her lip curled slightly.
"Honestly, Gekkō," she said, voice faintly incredulous and cold, "who told you you were that important?"
Hayate once again felt that suffocating pressure in his chest, like something was physically blocking it.
What is this… feeling?
"You break into a foreign delegation's quarters in the middle of the night, get taken down in under a second, and then have the nerve to lie there bleeding all over our rooftop while you project your fantasies on me?" she went on, tone icy.
"Stalker, martyr, tragic hero… you really went for the full set."
She tilted Murasaki so the edge rested lightly under his chin, forcing his head up.
The purple sheen on the blade reflected his own wide, stunned eyes back at him.
"'I'll take the blame, I'll be the villain, I'll drag you home'…" Yugao repeated mockingly. "You sound like a genin reading from some third-rate romance scroll."
A faint, humorless huff escaped her.
"Newsflash. I don't need you to 'save' me. I never asked you to. And I definitely don't remember giving you permission to decide my life for me."
Hayate's mouth opened and closed soundlessly, no words coming out.
His heart, which had been pounding with desperate hope moments ago, now felt like it was slowly being crushed in a vice.
Yugao's eyes narrowed, the disgust no longer subtle.
"And you…" she added, eyes boring into his, "couldn't even tell the difference between a kunoichi making her own choice and a damsel in distress trapped in your little fantasy."
Karin let out a low whistle.
"Damn…" she drawled, eyes glinting with interest. "Cold."
She didn't sound disapproving.
If anything, she sounded entertained.
Hayate barely heard her.
All his focus was on the woman in front of him—the one he'd crossed half the village for, the one he'd decided to "save," the one whose eyes now looked at him like he was less than nothing.
Yugao shifted her grip on Murasaki, the motion smooth and practiced.
"You keep talking about dragging me back," she said quietly. "About 'bringing me home.'"
Her voice was almost conversational now, which somehow made it worse.
"But you never even stopped to ask one simple thing, Gekkō."
The amethyst blade lifted from under his chin, drawing back just a fraction.
"What if," she murmured, "I already have a place I belong?"
His breath stuttered.
"W…what…?"
A faint smile that didn't reach her eyes curved her lips.
"I already have an owner," Yugao said, the word leaving her mouth without the slightest hesitation. "Someone I chose to give my blade and my life to."
She tilted her head slightly, looking down at him like she was delivering a final correction to a particularly stupid genin.
"So next time you decide to play knight in shining armor…" Her eyes narrowed, edge catching the moonlight as she raised her sword. "…make sure the princess is actually yours."
The last thing Hayate saw was the purple flash of Murasaki's arc.
Shff.
For an instant, there was no pain—just a strange, floating lightness, the night sky tilting out of place.
Then darkness slammed in, all at once, before he could even form her name again.
He died knowing full well… the woman he'd loved all his life already belonged to someone else.
Yugao gave Murasaki a small, practiced flick.
The blood on the blade crackled, chakra sparking faintly along the edge as the stains burned away into nothing.
Once it was clean, she slid the purple sword back into its sheath with a soft click.
"Haku," she said calmly. "Make sure it's clean. Leave no traces."
"Yes, Yugao-san. Leave it to me," Haku replied gently.
He stepped forward, eyes lowering for a brief moment as cold chakra flowed from his body.
In the next instant, ice spread out from beneath Hayate and his severed head, swallowing them both in a clear, crystalline mass.
A heartbeat later...
Crack… crack…
The ice shattered into countless tiny particles, scattering into the night air and dissolving as if they'd never existed.
Along with it, the blood, the body, and every trace of Hayate Gekkō simply vanished from the rooftop.
The four of them exchanged a few quiet nods.
Then, after a bit more casual clean-up, they returned to their rooms and went back to rest—
as if nothing had happened at all.
Although Yugao had told them clearly not to cause trouble inside the village… that didn't mean they would just stand there and smile if someone crossed the line.
They had noticed Hayate Gekkō a long time ago.
But decided to ignore him.
As long as he stayed in his lane, they were willing to let it slide.
But the moment his intent shifted—when that faint trace of malice leaked out and he actually tried to step inside their inn…
That was different.
Monitoring was one thing.
Invading their space was another.
And then there were the lines he spouted.
It was almost insulting.
There was no way they would let him walk away after that.
To them, this wasn't about overreacting.
It was about respect.
If this caused problems in the village?
So what.
If someone higher up decided to question them?
So what.
They weren't looking for trouble.
But they weren't afraid of it either.
--
And so, the month until the finals flew by in a blur.
Days turned into a cycle of training, bandages, and exhaustion as every genin clawed for even a little more strength. By the end of it, they'd pushed themselves as far as they could, each chasing their own answer to the same question:
How strong can I get in just one month?
By the time the promised day finally arrived, none of them were the same as when they'd walked out of the exam tower.
--
The roar of the crowd rolled through Konoha's grand arena like distant thunder.
Every seat was packed—villagers, merchants, visiting dignitaries, even shinobi who'd taken rare time off to watch the spectacle. Colorful banners fluttered in the summer wind, the symbol of the Leaf snapping proudly above the stadium.
High above it all, at the very top of the stands, a shaded platform overlooked the arena: the VIP viewing area reserved for the Hokage and honored guests.
Sarutobi Hiruzen stood there in his formal robes and hat, pipe tucked away for once. His back was straight, his gaze steady as he watched the crowd settle.
Behind him, ANBU knelt in a discreet half-circle—silent masks, sharp eyes.
A rustle of cloth and the soft clink of armor announced the arrival of the escort squad.
"Hokage-sama," an ANBU said quietly. "The Fourth Kazekage has arrived."
Hiruzen turned.
The man who stepped onto the platform was draped in Sunagakure's pale robes, face mostly hidden beneath a high collar and a hat with a veil that cast his features in shadow. Only his eyes were clearly visible—narrow, sharp, and a little too amused.
"Welcome, Kazekage-dono," Hiruzen said, offering a polite smile and a small bow of his head. "It is an honor to have you here in Konoha."
The veiled figure inclined his head slightly.
"The honor is mine, Hokage-dono," the Fourth Kazekage replied, voice low and smooth. "It would be unforgivable to ignore an invitation to witness the growth of the next generation… especially when our own children's future is involved."
The words were courteous.
Something underneath them was not.
Of course, the kind Third Hokage failed to notice that anything was wrong.
"These exams are more than a test of strength," Hiruzen said, turning back toward the arena with his guest at his side. "They are a symbol of trust between our villages. I hope today's matches reaffirm that."
"Of course," the Kazekage answered easily.
Beneath the veil, unseen by most, the corner of his mouth curved in a thin, serpentine smile.
Trust, hm…? Orochimaru thought lazily behind the disguise. Let's see how long that lasts, sensei.
The two Kage took their seats at the front of the platform, the sun at their backs, the entire arena spread out before them.
Down below, the proctor stepped into the center of the ring as the crowd began to quiet.
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