As Shanks sat in silence, his thoughts turned inward.
I used almost a fifth of my chakra, he noted. It's not a major problem, but it was avoidable. If I'd balanced my physical strength more effectively with my chakra output, the consumption would've been far less. That's a weakness—I'll need to fix it. Everything else in the fight was solid.
Satisfied with his reflection, Shanks finally let himself rest. He closed his eyes, body still but mind gradually quieting.
Hours passed.
Roughly three or four hours later, the village head returned, arms full and accompanied by a few others carrying trays. They'd brought exactly what Shanks had requested—plenty of hot food for both him and Tomiko.
Shanks called out, "Tomiko, food's here."
She emerged from the back, looking noticeably better. The rest had done her good; her steps were steadier now, and some colour had returned to her face.
They sat together and ate in silence for a while, the warm food grounding them after the day's violence. When the meal was finished, they moved to the chairs in the spacious hall—once used by the Kirigakure as their meeting chamber.
Tomiko glanced at Shanks, curiosity in her eyes. "Honestly," she said, "I didn't expect someone like you—a bounty hunter—to be this considerate toward civilians."
Shanks met her gaze without flinching. "This isn't about being kind," he replied. "I just gave them back what was already theirs. If I hadn't, they would've starved—or torn each other apart trying to survive. That kind of slow death is worse than anything the Kirigakure would've done. At least they would've made it quick."
He paused for a moment, then added, "And there's another reason. By doing this, I plant a good image of the Uzumaki clan. When the others from my clan come out of hiding, that reputation will matter. It might buy them trust. Or at the very least, time."
Tomiko blinked in surprise. "Wow... you talk exactly like a clan head."
Shanks gave a small, matter-of-fact nod. "That's because I am the clan head of the Uzumaki Clan."
Her jaw dropped slightly. For a moment, she stared at him, unsure whether to laugh or question him. But then she remembered the strength he'd shown, the way he had dismantled the Kirigakure ninjas with ease. Slowly, she closed her mouth, the realization settling in. Of course he was telling the truth.
Shanks didn't seem the least bit fazed by her reaction. Instead, he asked, "Weren't your clan members supposed to arrive in Yu Village tonight? What's taking them so long?"
Tomiko looked away, rubbing the back of her neck, clearly embarrassed. "Actually... I lied. They were never coming tonight."
Shanks raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
She continued, her tone sheepish. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You saved me back there—I couldn't just let you walk into a fight with someone like Juzo, one of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, without knowing whether you'd survive. I honestly didn't think you could handle it... so I followed you. I'm really sorry for lying."
Shanks didn't even blink. It wasn't the first time she'd bent the truth with him, and he'd stopped taking it personally a long time ago.
He stood, brushing off the last of the conversation. "Forget it. Get some rest—we've got a long journey ahead. Tomorrow we head for the capital of the Land of Hot Water."
Tomiko gave a small, guilty nod and quietly made her way to the room she'd chosen earlier.
Shanks picked a separate room for himself and stepped inside, finally ready for some well-earned sleep.
After nearly three years of dedicated training, Shanks had pushed his Observation Haki to a level where he could now maintain it even while asleep—with almost no chakra drain. His body had adapted. Though chakra recovery during sleep wasn't as fast as without using Haki, it was still significantly better than in the early days, when his chakra would simply deplete throughout the night. Back then, maintaining Observation Haki during sleep was a liability. Now, it was an asset.
While resting, Shanks could monitor a fifty-meter radius around him. Any hostile intent or movement within that range would trigger his senses and jolt him awake instantly. It was a vital defence—especially when sleeping in unfamiliar territory.
Morning arrived without incident.
Shanks woke naturally, feeling restored. He washed, dressed, and was just tightening his weapons harness when he sensed several people approaching the house. Moments later, the village head arrived at the door, flanked by a few others. He stepped forward alone, holding a small bundle of warm food wrapped in cloth.
Entering respectfully, he placed the food on the nearby table and bowed.
"Thank you again, hero, for saving us yesterday," the elder said. "I realized I never learned your name—or where you're from. I made a guess based on the symbol on the back of your cloak... I assume you're from Konoha? Part of a clan there, perhaps? And the girl traveling with you—we recognized her. She saved one of our villagers a few days ago. We were told she's a member of the Uchiha Clan."
His tone was a mixture of gratitude and curiosity, careful not to push too hard but clearly seeking answers.
Shanks had just sat down, a faint smile on his face as he reached for his breakfast. But the moment the village head spoke, that smile froze—then vanished completely.
The air turned heavy.
The elder immediately sensed the change and stiffened. Did I say something wrong? he wondered nervously, watching Shanks's expression darken.
Shanks looked up, his gaze steady and unblinking. "That symbol," he said slowly, "is the crest of the Uzumaki Clan. My clan."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"I am Shanks Uzumaki. The village of Konoha added that symbol to their flak jackets to show allegiance to us... once. But the Uzumaki Clan no longer considers Konoha an ally. Not anymore."
The elder remained silent, his hands now slightly trembling.
"One day," Shanks continued, "I'll make sure they remove that symbol from their gear—because they don't deserve to wear it. The world may believe the Uzumaki Clan was destroyed, but we're still here. We never disappeared. And we haven't forgotten."
The final words carried weight. A statement. A warning. A declaration of survival.
----
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