One dreary afternoon, unable to bear the suffocating silence of the apartment any longer, Ryuu slipped out, informing a listless Kasumi he was going for a walk – needing air, needing space. He wandered aimlessly through the quieter residential streets, his wide-brimmed hat pulled low, his gaze fixed on the muddy path, lost in bleak contemplation.
"Oi, Yuki!"
The familiar, dry voice startled him. He looked up to see Kenjiro leaning against a fence bordering a small park, arms crossed, watching him approach. Kenjiro wasn't smiling, his usual casual confidence was muted, his dark eyes holding a rare seriousness. Standing silently beside him, posture perfect as always, was Asami Hyuga.
Ryuu stopped, surprised to see them together, surprised Kenjiro had sought him out. He hadn't spoken properly to either of them since the brief, awkward exchange after the debriefing weeks ago.
"Kenjiro-san, Hyuga-san," Ryuu greeted quietly, offering a slight bow.
"Just Kenjiro," the Uchiha corrected automatically, though without his usual smirk. "Heard your team was… on leave." He didn't mention Kenta directly, but the implication hung heavy in the air.
Asami offered a curt, almost imperceptible nod. "We were concerned, Yuki-san," she stated formally, her pale lavender eyes studying him with unnerving intensity. News, even of supposedly low-rank mission failures involving casualties, travelled fast in the shinobi rumour mill, especially when it involved early graduates and an Uchiha. "Are you… recovering?"
Ryuu hesitated. Recovering? Was that even possible? "We are… managing," he replied evasively, looking down. "Genma-sensei granted us time."
An awkward silence fell. Kenjiro kicked absently at a loose stone. Asami maintained her perfect poise, but Ryuu sensed a subtle flicker of empathy behind her controlled facade.
They were rivals, perhaps, products of vastly different clans and upbringings, but they were also the only other two who had jumped ahead, who understood the pressure and scrutiny of graduating early. And now, Ryuu was the one whose team had immediately paid the price for stepping onto the path sooner.
"Look," Kenjiro said finally, pushing off the fence. "Sitting around moping isn't going to help anyone. We were just heading to Ichiraku's. Come with us." It wasn't a question, more of a quiet command disguised as an invitation.
Ryuu was about to refuse – Kasumi expected him back, social interaction felt exhausting – but something in Kenjiro's steady gaze, and the unexpected solidarity from Asami (who simply nodded in agreement with Kenjiro's suggestion), made him pause. Maybe… maybe being around others, even briefly, was better than drowning alone in his apartment's silence.
"...Okay," Ryuu agreed softly.
They walked towards the village center, mostly in silence at first. Kenjiro seemed content to let the quiet stand, occasionally pointing out a newly repaired building or commenting dryly on a passing shinobi's questionable fashion sense. Asami remained silent, observing, her presence a calming, grounding force in its own way.
Ichiraku Ramen was relatively quiet at this mid-afternoon hour. Teuchi greeted them with his usual warmth. The three ordered their typical things miso for Kenjiro and Ryuu, a simple shio for Asami.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, the comforting warmth and savory aroma of the ramen doing little to ease the knot in Ryuu's stomach.
"So," Kenjiro began casually, swirling his chopsticks in his broth. "That C-Rank... must have been rougher than expected."
Ryuu tensed, bracing himself.
"It was," he replied curtly, keeping his gaze fixed on his bowl.
"We heard… rumors," Asami added quietly, pausing her meticulous eating. "Bandits?"
Ryuu shook his head slightly. "Shinobi. Masked. Skilled." He offered no further details, adhering to Genma's implied gag order and his own need for secrecy regarding Root.
Kenjiro exchanged a look with Asami. Shinobi attackers on a standard C-Rank escort mission? That was highly unusual, bordering on alarming. It suggested something more targeted than random banditry.
"Was it... Kiri?" Kenjiro asked carefully, perhaps thinking of Ryuu's origins.
"No markings," Ryuu stated truthfully. "Their allegiance was unclear."
"But they were strong?" Kenjiro pressed gently.
Ryuu thought of the fight, the coordinated assault, Genma's struggle against three opponents. "Strong enough," he admitted quietly. He looked down at his bowl, the image of Kenta falling flashing behind his eyes. "Strong enough," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.
Kenjiro and Asami fell silent again, sensing the raw grief beneath Ryuu's controlled facade. They didn't push for more details about the fight itself, respecting the unspoken boundaries surrounding mission failures and comrade deaths.
Instead, Kenjiro shifted topic, trying to lighten the mood, perhaps. "Heard Tamura-sensei assigned Ren Nara punishment duty cleaning the Academy latrines for a week. He was trying to ditch class again."
Despite himself, Ryuu felt a tiny flicker of amusement. Trust Ren to put more effort into avoiding work than actually doing it, though he was surprisingly diligent in theory classes, he just hated working out. Asami even allowed a tiny, almost invisible smile to touch her lips.
They talked about the Academy, about their own teams' recent D-ranks (Kenjiro complained about Haru Sarutobi trying too hard to emulate the Third Hokage's leadership style already, Asami coolly critiqued her Inuzuka teammate's lack of subtlety). It was mundane, trivial compared to what Ryuu had experienced, but the simple act of conversation, of sharing experiences with peers who understood the baseline reality of their world, felt… grounding.
It didn't erase the guilt, didn't lessen the grief, but it pulled him back, however slightly, from the edge of the isolating abyss he felt himself slipping into.
After ramen, Kenjiro suggested heading to the small park nearby, the one overlooking a quiet section of the Nakano River. It was a peaceful spot, away from the main village bustle. They found an empty bench under a large willow tree, the afternoon sun filtering through the leaves, creating dappled patterns on the grass.
They sat in silence again for a while, watching children – civilian kids, mostly – chase each other near the riverbank.
"It's messed up," Kenjiro said suddenly, startling Ryuu. He wasn't looking at Ryuu, but out at the river. "Losing someone like that. Especially on your first real mission out."
Ryuu didn't respond, bracing himself.
"Happens though," Kenjiro continued quietly, picking at a loose thread on his tunic. "My dad... he lost his whole team during the Second War. Ambush near Ame. He was the only survivor. Said it changed everything." He finally looked at Ryuu, his usual smirk gone, replaced by a surprising depth of empathy in his dark eyes. "It's okay to... not be okay, you know? Even if senseis like Tamura or Genma act like you're supposed to just shrug it off."
Ryuu stared at him, surprised by the vulnerability, the unexpected connection. He hadn't expected this from the seemingly confident Uchiha.
"My... my father," Asami added, her voice barely above a whisper, surprising Ryuu even more. She rarely spoke of personal matters. "He serves on the main council now, but he led teams during the Third War. He doesn't talk about it much, but... sometimes, late at night... you can hear him pacing. Some losses never really leave you."
Ryuu felt something loosen slightly in his chest, the tight knot of guilt easing fractionally.
They understood. Maybe not the specifics of his guilt, his feeling of responsibility, but they understood the fundamental trauma of loss in this world, the weight carried by shinobi, even children. They weren't just classmates or rivals, they were fellow soldiers, initiated too young into the harsh realities of their profession.
He still couldn't bring himself to talk about Kenta, about the fight, about his own role. The guilt was too raw, too deep. But he offered them both a small, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment. A shared understanding passed between the three early graduates in the quiet park, a silent recognition of the burdens they carried.
"Genma-sensei," Ryuu said finally, changing the subject slightly, needing to shift focus back to practicalities, "said the team is on hiatus. Do you know... will they assign a replacement?"
Kenjiro shrugged. "Depends. Sometimes they do, if there's a compatible Genin available who lost their team too or washed out of another squad. Sometimes they run two-man cells for a while, especially for early grads expected to handle more. Guess the Hokage decides."
"It would be... difficult," Asami commented thoughtfully. "Integrating a new member after..." She trailed off, but her meaning was clear. After a loss like Kenta's, rebuilding team cohesion with a stranger would be challenging.
They sat in silence again, watching the river flow, contemplating the uncertain future of Team Twelve. The easy camaraderie of the ramen shop felt distant now, replaced by a more somber, shared understanding.
As the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the park, Ryuu knew he should head back. Kasumi would be worrying. "I should go," he said quietly, standing up.
"Yeah," Kenjiro agreed, getting to his feet as well. "Me too. Training."
"Stay well, Yuki-san," Asami offered, giving another small bow.
"You too," Ryuu replied to both of them. He turned to leave, feeling marginally less alone than when he had wandered out of his apartment hours earlier.
The guilt hadn't vanished, the pessimism hadn't lifted entirely, but the brief connection, the shared acknowledgment of the world's harshness from unexpected corners, had provided a small anchor in the storm threatening to consume him. It wasn't much, but for now, it was enough to keep him putting one foot in front of the other.
—————————————————————————————
(POV Shift: Deep Beneath Konoha - Danzo Shimura's Root Base)
The air in the subterranean chamber was cold, sterile, smelling faintly of antiseptic and old stone. Flickering torches cast long, dancing shadows on the damp walls, illuminating the impassive porcelain masks of the Root operatives standing silently at attention.
Danzo Shimura sat behind a simple stone desk, his one visible eye closed, his bandaged face inscrutable as he listened to the report from one of his field captains – one of the few survivors from the failed ambush on Team Twelve, likely the one Izumi had subdued.
"...Genma Shiranui's reaction speed was faster than anticipated, Danzo-sama," the operative reported, his voice toneless, kneeling before the desk. "He utilized Kage Bunshin and advanced Katon techniques. Uchiha Izumi engaged immediately, Sharingan active, displaying proficient Taijutsu and kunai skills. Miyamoto Kenta provided basic defense."
Danzo remained silent, absorbing the information.
"The primary target, Yuki Ryuu," the operative continued, "initially relied on evasion. However, when pressed, he displayed active Ice Release Kekkei Genkai. First, a defensive wall. Then, a wide-area projectile technique – Sensatsu Suishō – albeit at a low power level. Finally," the operative hesitated slightly, "he manifested a short ice blade, wounding operative 'Chi' before Chi was terminated engaging Miyamoto."
Danzo's visible eye snapped open, gleaming sharply in the torchlight. "Ice weapon manifestation? At age ten? Are you certain?"
"Hai, Danzo-sama. Observed directly before operative 'Ka' was neutralized by Shiranui."
Danzo tapped a withered finger on the stone desk, his mind racing. Ice Release. Active. Capable of forming specific jutsu and even manifesting weapons, however crudely. Far beyond mere latent potential or accidental flares. The Yuki bloodline was potent in this one.
"The Tongue Eradication Seals functioned upon the others' deaths?" Danzo asked coldly.
"Hai, Danzo-sama. No intelligence was compromised."
"And the mission objectives?"
The operative lowered his head slightly. "Failure, Danzo-sama. Yuki Ryuu remains under Shiranui's protection. Uchiha Izumi was not captured or eliminated. Operative 'Ka', 'Shi', 'Ri', and 'Ha' were lost. Operative 'Chi' was captured, presumed compromised or eliminated by Konoha T&I."
Danzo's expression didn't change, but a dangerous stillness settled over him. Five operatives lost, one captured, for zero results.
Shiranui was more capable than his laid-back demeanor suggested, and the Yuki boy... the boy was more developed, more dangerous, than initial reports indicated. And now Minato knew. The Hokage, Hiruzen, Genma – they all knew about the boy's active Kekkei Genkai. The Hokage would increase security, formalize the boy's training, integrate him fully as a Konoha asset. Attempting another direct acquisition now would be extremely difficult, potentially exposing Root completely.
"Minato..." Danzo breathed the name, a low hiss of resentment. The Fourth Hokage's survival, his proactive leadership, his control over ANBU, his refusal to allow Root free rein – it constantly thwarted Danzo's plans for Konoha's 'true' security. Now, Minato possessed a potential S-Rank weapon in the making, one Danzo had hoped to cultivate for his own purposes.
He needed to recalibrate. Direct action against the Yuki boy was too risky for now. But observation could continue. Agents could be placed closer. Perhaps leverage could be found... the mother, Kasumi? What were her weaknesses? Her history? Minato had placed her under his protection, even given her duties, but Danzo knew Minato wasn't foolish enough to grant complete trust after her initial deception. Was there a Cursed Seal? Likely. But even seals could be bypassed or manipulated, given time and opportunity.
And the Uchiha girl, Izumi. Close to Itachi, witness to the Yuki's power. She was another piece on the board. The Uchiha situation remained volatile, despite Minato's attempts at placation. There were still proud, resentful elements within the clan. Perhaps... perhaps the Yuki boy could be used indirectly. Frame him for an incident? Use his presence to exacerbate Uchiha paranoia? Sow discord?
Danzo allowed a thin, cold smile to touch his lips. Minato thought he had contained Root, thought he controlled the flow of information. He was wrong. The roots ran deep, intertwined throughout the village. Danzo had time. He had patience. And he had operatives who would follow any order without question.
"Increase surveillance on Yuki Ryuu and Kasumi Yuki," Danzo ordered the kneeling operative. "Subtly. Use non-Root assets where possible, civilian informants. I want to know their routines, their contacts, their training schedules. Monitor Team Twelve's Jonin, Shiranui Genma. Assess his methods, his relationship with the Yuki boy."
He paused. "And acquire everything you can on Kasumi Yuki's past in Kirigakure before she became 'Hyōjin'. Her family, her former squad, any enemies she might have left behind. Weaknesses."
"Hai, Danzo-sama."
"Dismissed," Danzo waved a hand dismissively. The operative bowed and vanished back into the shadows.
Danzo sat alone in the cold silence, his mind already weaving new plans, new contingencies. The Yuki boy was a complication, yes. But every complication was also an opportunity for the truly ruthless. He would acquire the boy's power eventually. One way, or another. The Will of Fire needed strong roots, even if they grew only in darkness and fed on sacrifice. He closed his eye again, patience settling over him like a shroud.