The heat pressed down on my skull like molten metal.
Each inhale came thick and brackish, scratching down my throat and sticking in my chest. The ground underfoot shifted between slick mud and drying crust, mottled and uneven, dotted with stagnant puddles. Water clung to my sandals, dragging at every step.
Even standing still demanded effort.
Oboro sagged against the cracked stone railing.
His yellow jumpsuit clung dark with sweat, streaked with dust. Kagari and Mubi mirrored him—heads low, shoulders caving inward. Their breaths came in short, uneven pulls, a faint hiss lost in the heavy air. They had done what they came to do. Slowed Idate.
The way their eyes kept moving said it hadn't bought them safety.
I felt the pouch at my thigh. Cold metal pressed against my fingers. The Void Ring pulsed faintly, the sensation traveling up through my skin in small, irregular ticks. My eyelids dragged, vision dimming at the edges as heat leeched strength from my muscles.
Not here.
A cough tore up from my chest. Dry. Sharp.
Blood spread across my lips—warm, metallic. I wiped it away with the back of my hand, breath catching halfway through the motion.
My fingers fumbled at the pouch before finding the ring.
Cold. Too cold for the air around it.
"Give this to your leader," I rasped. My voice scraped on the way out. "It's not the same… hopefully, it's enough."
Anko's gaze snapped to me.
For a second, the world wavered—heat shimmer bending her outline. Sweat slid down into my goggles, blurring one lens. I blinked hard.
Her hand moved toward the ring—then stopped short.
"…Why do you have that?" Her voice dropped, tight.
Kakashi angled his head. The cloth at his shoulder shifted with the motion, darkened with sweat along the seams. His visible eye narrowed slightly, a crease forming at the corner. "Sylvie-chan… explain."
I swallowed. It didn't help. My throat stuck anyway.
Naruto scratched at the back of his head, squinting between us. "What's going on? It's just a ring, isn't it?"
Anko's jaw tightened. A bead of sweat tracked down from her temple along the line of her neck, disappearing beneath her collar.
"That's Orochimaru's," she said. "Akatsuki marker."
Naruto blinked.
She didn't look at him. "Itachi. Others like him. Missing-nin. People you don't want anywhere near you."
Naruto's hand slowed, fingers hovering awkwardly in his hair. "…What?"
His eyes flicked to me, confusion lagging behind the words. "Why do you—why do you have that, Sylvie-chan?"
The pressure in my skull tightened. I exhaled slowly, trying to keep my balance as my heel slipped slightly against damp stone.
"I took it," I said.
Anko's head tilted. "You took it."
"At Sound." My grip shifted on the ring. It dragged cold against my skin. "His arm. It was stored. I—"
My breath caught. I had to pause, swallow, try again.
"I took it while we were searching."
Anko stepped closer. Not fast. Measured.
Up close, I could see the tension in her jaw, the slight tremor where heat and restraint met. "You're telling me," she said, voice low, "you walked into Orochimaru's base… found a severed arm… and decided to take the ring off it."
My footing slipped again. I corrected, slower this time.
"Yes."
A drop of sweat ran down the bridge of my nose, hung, then fell.
I lifted the ring slightly. "It reacts," I said. "To people like him. Like Gaara. Like Sasuke." I hesitated, watching her face. "…Like you."
Anko didn't respond immediately.
Her eyes stayed on the ring. Then on my hand. Then back to my face.
A breath left her, slow. Shoulders shifted as she rolled tension out through her back, hands coming up behind her head.
"…You're either lying," she muttered, "or you're not stupid."
Another pause.
"Alright," she said finally. "I'll take that risk."
"Maa, Anko—" Kakashi started.
"Don't," she cut in, sharper now. The movement pulled at the fabric of her coat, damp cloth sticking briefly before settling again. "Not here."
Kakashi's eye lingered on me. There was strain there now—subtle, but present. "We'll talk later, Sylvie-chan."
I nodded once.
My arm felt heavier than it should as I stepped forward.
The stone shifted under my foot. I adjusted, slower, testing the next step before committing. Kagari straightened slightly as I approached, eyes flicking from the ring to my face.
For a moment, my fingers didn't open.
Then they did.
The ring left my hand. The absence of its weight felt wrong for half a second.
Anko turned away before the moment could stretch. "What about him?" She jerked her chin toward Aoi.
Aoi stood bound, posture loose despite it. The corner of his mouth curled upward, like he was watching something amusing instead of waiting to be dragged back to a village that would not be kind.
Kakashi lifted a hand, rubbing lightly at the bridge of his nose. "They're not the problem," he said, nodding toward Oboro's team. "He is."
Aoi didn't react.
"He stole the Thunder God Sword," Kakashi continued. "He goes back."
Anko exhaled sharply, then turned on her heel. "Fine."
She pointed, not looking at us. "You three—move."
Her gaze cut back, briefly, to make sure we understood.
"Okay, brats. Get running. This is your race now."
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Oboro pushed himself off the railing. His hand slipped once before finding purchase. Kagari adjusted his grip on the ring, like he wasn't sure where to hold it. Mubi glanced back—once—before turning away.
They started down the steps. Slow at first. Then faster.
Aoi shifted as Kakashi stepped in behind him, grip firm on the bindings. Not rough. Not gentle either. Just controlled.
Anko moved to the side, positioning herself where she could see both paths—the descent and us. Her weight settled unevenly for a second before she corrected it, rolling her shoulders back.
The wind changed.
Cool air slid across the back of my neck, cutting through the heat. My skin prickled.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. My shoulders dropped a fraction.
For a second—just one—the pressure eased.
Fog crept in low, spilling over the steps in thin layers. It softened edges. Muffled sound. Footsteps below blurred into dull, uneven taps.
I blinked, trying to clear my eyes.
Moisture smeared instead.
A faint pop reached my ears. Or maybe it didn't. The sound came late, like it had to push through something thick to get to me.
I turned my head slightly.
Naruto stood a few steps away.
His shoulders rose and fell too quickly. Not running—just breathing. Too fast.
I frowned.
Heat, maybe.
My own pulse thudded in my ears, uneven. I tried to focus past it. Naruto shifted his weight. His sandal slid a fraction against the wet stone. He corrected late.
"…Naruto?" I started.
He didn't answer.
His hand lifted halfway, then dropped. Fingers flexed once. Twice.
Something in my chest tightened—not sharp. Just wrong.
I took a step toward him. My foot landed off-center. I adjusted, slower this time.
Wind pushed through the fog again, colder now. It brushed past my ears, and for a second the pressure changed—like my hearing dipped, then came back.
Naruto inhaled sharply.
The sound caught halfway.
His neck tensed. I could see the movement there—tightening, then release that didn't fully happen. Sweat ran down into his collar, soaking the fabric darker. His lips looked dry.
I hesitated.
Was this—
He swayed. Just a little.
My stomach dropped.
"Hey," I said, louder this time.
He didn't look at me.
His chest hitched again.