The sign of the "Last Chance" bar blinked, skipping every third letter like Morse code calling for help. It was an establishment for those who had lost everything in the casino and came to drink away their last coins before disappearing into a ditch.
The perfect place to be alone.
Naruto pushed the heavy door upholstered in cracked leatherette.
Inside, it smelled of cheap tobacco, old wood, and hopelessness. The smell was thick, almost palpable. In the corner, a jukebox wheezed, playing some mournful jazz. There were few customers—a couple of drunks sleeping face-first in salad, and a sullen bartender wiping a glass with philosophical indifference.
The Uzumaki walked deeper into the hall. His Qi Sensory picked up scraps of others' emotions: the sticky fear of a debtor, the dull aggression of a bouncer, the greed of a whore at the counter. This "filth" radiated, creating unpleasant white noise in his head.
He sat at a far table in the deepest shadow.
"Water," he threw to the waitress who approached. "With ice."
"We're not a kindergarten here, boy," she chuckled, but upon meeting his gaze, she faltered. The youth's eyes were colder than the ice he requested. "Coming right up."
Naruto leaned back in his chair.
The Pseudo-Core in his stomach slowly rotated, restoring balance. The conversation with Tsunade had drained his mental strength. Lancing someone else's abscesses was dirty work requiring surgical precision and nerves of steel.
He closed his eyes, switching to passive sensory perception to filter out the city noise.
Suddenly, the background changed.
Amidst the swamp sludge of the city aura, he felt steel.
Two chakra sources.
They weren't "rotten" like the local thugs. They were sharp, cold, and professionally restrained. It was the aura of people for whom killing is not a crime, but a craft.
And they were approaching his table.
Naruto didn't open his eyes. His hand under the table settled on his pouch.
"Seats are taken," he said indifferently.
"There's always a chair for old friends," came a low, vibrating bass, like grinding stones on a riverbed.
The blonde opened his eyes.
Opposite him sat a giant. His face was half-hidden by bandages, but the scar over his eye and the predatory squint were unmistakable. A huge sword wrapped in coarse cloth stood leaning against the wall nearby, radiating a barely perceptible thirst for blood.
Zabuza Momochi. Demon of the Mist.
Next to him, gracefully sinking onto a chair, sat Haku. Without a mask, in simple travel clothes, but with the unchanging aura of icy calm. He looked like an ordinary traveler, but Naruto knew this youth could slit a throat faster than a blink.
"You survived," Naruto stated. There was no surprise in his voice, only a statement of fact.
Zabuza smirked beneath the bandages. He took someone else's bottle of sake standing on the table and poured himself a cup.
"Thanks to your sensei and his connections. They didn't pursue us. Wrote us off as 'killed in action.' Now we're just mercenaries. Masterless wanderers."
"Free men," Haku added softly, looking at Naruto with warmth. "You've grown, Naruto-kun. And got a vest. It suits you."
"And you look... fed," Naruto took a sip of water. "Did working for Gatō pay worse?"
"Gatō is dead," Zabuza downed the cup in one gulp. "Now we work for ourselves. The pay is higher, risks are the same. We're just passing through. Heard the Sannin were in town, decided not to shine. But I'd recognize your chakra out of a thousand. It used to roar like the surf. And now... now it's heavy, like the ocean depths. You've become more dangerous, kid. Your aura presses down even when you're just sitting."
Naruto narrowed his eyes slightly.
"So you just came to say hello? Demon of the Mist got sentimental?"
Zabuza leaned forward. The table creaked under his elbows. The atmosphere at the table instantly thickened. The mirth vanished, giving way to something heavy and dangerous.
"I came to repay a debt, kid. You saved us on the bridge. I don't like being a debtor. Bad for karma."
He lowered his voice, looking around.
"We came from the border of the Land of Fire. A couple of days ago, we crossed paths with two wanderers. They were looking for something. Or rather, someone."
"Who?"
"The Nine-Tails Jinchūriki," Zabuza looked straight into Naruto's eyes. "They were dressed in black cloaks with red clouds. Hats with bells. Strange types."
The Uzumaki froze. The water in his glass rippled from an uncontrolled release of Qi.
Akatsuki.
Jiraiya had mentioned them. An S-rank organization hunting Bijū.
"Did you fight?" Naruto asked, gripping the glass so hard the ice cracked.
"We're not idiots," Zabuza snorted. "I'm a killer, not suicidal. We walked past. But..." he grew gloomy, twirling the cup in his hand. "The second one, with the bandaged sword... His sword growled when we came abreast. It sensed my chakra and wanted to eat it. That freak, Kisame, just grinned—teeth like a shark—and stroked the handle like a pet dog. In that moment I realized: if a fight starts, I'm not leaving alive. This isn't Jonin level, kid. This is Kage level. Or even higher."
"And the second one?" Naruto looked at Haku.
The youth, silent all this time, raised his gaze. His beautiful eyes were dark with memory.
"The second one was... quiet. But his eyes, Naruto-kun..." Haku shivered, as if from cold. "I've looked into the eyes of many killers. I've seen Zabuza-san's eyes in anger. But him... there was no anger there. No life. Dead eyes. The eyes of a man who has already killed everything he could kill inside himself. Emptiness. And in that emptiness was the Sharingan."
Itachi, Naruto realized. His heart skipped a beat. Sasuke's brother. The clan killer. He's here. He's coming for me.
"Finally," the Fox grumbled in his subconscious. "Tailed Beast hunters. Be ready, jailer. These ones won't play."
"Are they coming to Tanzaku?" he asked aloud.
"They're following the trail," Zabuza replied. "And your trail here shines like a beacon. If you are here, it means they will be here soon. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe even today."
Zabuza stood up, grabbing his sword. Haku followed his example.
"I warned you, Uzumaki. Debt paid."
Naruto stood up too.
"Thanks. That's... valuable information."
Zabuza stopped by the exit from the table. He looked Naruto up and down. In his gaze, veteran respect mixed with the professional assessment of a predator.
"You really have become stronger. Your eyes... don't look like a puppy's anymore. There's metal in them."
He smirked under the bandages.
"Don't die, kid. Next time we meet, I might get a contract on your head. And then I won't look at old friendship."
Naruto met the Demon's gaze calmly. Qi flowed evenly, ready for battle at any second. The Pseudo-Core hummed.
"You can try," he replied quietly. "But make sure you sharpen your sword. This time I'll break it."
Zabuza laughed hoarsely.
"Look forward to it. Let's go, Haku."
Haku bowed to Naruto.
"Take care of yourself, Naruto-kun."
They left the bar, dissolving into the night like the ghosts of the mist they were.
Naruto remained standing by the table.
The ice in his glass began to melt.
Itachi Uchiha and Kisame Hoshigaki. S-rank. They are close.
And if Itachi is here, that means Sasuke... Sasuke might come too. And then a catastrophe will happen.
His rest ended before it could begin.
He threw a coin on the table and headed for the exit.
He needed to find Jiraiya. Urgently.
The hunters had become the hunted.
Naruto walked out onto the street. The night air was humid and suffocating.
He closed his eyes, activating Sensory to the maximum.
Where are you, Old Man?
Silence.
Among thousands of chakra lights in the city, he didn't see Jiraiya's powerful fire.
He's hiding his chakra. Or put up a barrier while he's having fun.
Naruto was left alone in a city where two monsters roamed, having come for his soul.
He clenched his fist and stepped into the darkness.