The return journey was a forced march through a world drained of color. Ryuu moved mechanically, putting one foot in front of the other, his senses automatically scanning their surroundings but his mind adrift in a grey fog of guilt and shock.
The vibrant greens of the forest canopy seemed dull, the bright blue sky overhead felt distant and cold, the cheerful sounds of birdsong registered as grating noise. Kenta's absence was a palpable void beside him, a constant, silent accusation. Every step echoed with the memory of Kenta's easygoing chatter, his simple optimism, his final, shocked gasp.
Izumi walked on Genma's other flank, her discipline holding her ramrod straight, her face an impassive mask. But Ryuu, even in his own daze, could sense the tightly coiled grief beneath her surface, the slight tremor in her chakra signature, the way her eyes, even without the Sharingan active, seemed haunted.
Kenta had been their teammate. His loss had fractured the nascent dynamic of Team Twelve, leaving behind jagged edges and unspoken blame.
Genma scouted ahead, doubled back, chose treacherous, hidden paths, ensuring they weren't followed, his focus entirely on getting his remaining two Genin and the grim cargo they carried back to Konoha safely. He didn't offer words of comfort, didn't engage in small talk.
This was the harsh reality of shinobi life, and coddling them now would do them no favors. Loss was part of the job description. Surviving it, learning from it, was the only path forward.
They reached the familiar outer walls of Konoha late on the second day after the ambush, looking less like returning shinobi and more like exhausted, haunted refugees themselves. Their clothes were torn and stained, their faces smudged with grime and weariness, their eyes reflecting the grimness of their experience.
The Chunin guards at the gate straightened instantly upon recognizing Genma, their usual bored expressions replaced with concern as they took in the state of the team, noticing immediately that they were one member short.
Genma offered only a curt nod and a single word: "Hokage."
Word clearly preceded them, or perhaps Minato had been tracking their return via sensory networks alerted by Genma's likely coded signal upon crossing the border. As they passed through the main gates, two ANBU operatives materialized silently beside Genma.
"Genma-san," one said, their voice toneless through a porcelain weasel mask. "Hokage-sama awaits your immediate report. We will escort the Genin."
Genma hesitated for only a second, looking at the pale, withdrawn faces of Ryuu and Izumi. "See them to the debriefing rooms first," he instructed the ANBU. "Standard post-mission check. Then release them to their quarters. They need rest."
He handed over the storage scrolls containing the attackers' bodies and the unconscious prisoner. "This requires immediate analysis by T&I and the Intelligence Division. Handle with care." He kept the scroll containing Kenta's body himself. That duty fell to him.
"Hai," the ANBU acknowledged, turning towards the Genin. "Uchiha-san, Yuki-san, this way."
Ryuu followed numbly, Izumi walking silently beside him. They were escorted through the familiar village streets, but everything felt different now, overlaid with a filter of grey exhaustion and the sharp tang of Kenta's absence.
Civilians bustled past, merchants called out their wares, children laughed – the ordinary pulse of Konoha life felt jarringly disconnected from the violence they had just experienced. Ryuu felt like a ghost walking through a world he no longer fully belonged to.
The post-mission debriefing was a blur. A quiet room, sterile lighting, a calm-voiced Chunin from the administration asking standard questions: mission objective, route taken, timeline, enemy contact, engagement details, outcome.
Ryuu answered mechanically, sticking strictly to observable facts, omitting any mention of Root seals or his internal analysis of the attack's true purpose. He described the ambush, the number of attackers, their apparent skill level, the fight. He kept his voice flat, devoid of emotion, but it was clear this was just a facade.
Izumi's report was similarly concise, professional, detailing her visual observations, her engagement with her assigned attacker, confirming Kenta's death. Her Uchiha training kept her voice steady, but Ryuu sensed the tightly controlled grief just beneath the surface.
After the debriefing, they underwent a quick medical check. Ryuu's shin was bruised, his wrist sore, his chakra levels dangerously low but recovering. Izumi had minor cuts and bruises. Physically, they were relatively unscathed. Emotionally, Ryuu felt shattered. The medics offered standard platitudes about mission risks and the importance of recovery before dismissing them.
The ANBU escort walked them back towards their respective homes. As they reached the turn-off for the Uchiha district, Izumi paused. She looked at Ryuu, her dark eyes holding a complex mixture of shared trauma, curiosity, and perhaps, a hesitant sympathy. "Ryuu-san," she said quietly. "Kenta-kun... he fought bravely." It was a simple statement, an acknowledgment of their fallen teammate.
Ryuu could only nod, unable to find words. What could he say? 'It was my fault'? 'I'm sorry'?
Izumi seemed to understand his silence. She offered another small, formal bow. "Rest well." Then she turned and walked quickly towards the Uchiha compound, her shoulders perhaps a little less straight than usual.
Ryuu continued towards his own apartment alone, the ANBU fading back into the shadows. The village felt alienating now. He saw Kenjiro sparring energetically with Sarutobi Haru in a nearby training ground, laughing, completely unaware of what had happened to Team Twelve. The normalcy felt like a physical blow.
Kasumi met him at the door, her eyes instantly taking in his exhausted state. Her face paled, her hand flying to her mouth. "Ryuu? What happened?"
He couldn't meet her gaze. "Mission... ambush," he mumbled, pushing past her into the apartment, the carefully constructed walls of his control finally beginning to crumble. "Kenta... Kenta is..." The word caught in his throat.
Kasumi understood immediately. She pulled him into a tight hug, ignoring his usual stiffness, simply holding him as quiet, wracking sobs finally escaped him – tears not just of grief, but of guilt, fear, and the overwhelming weight of his mistaken choices.
He cried for Kenta, for the simple camaraderie lost. He cried for Kasumi, branded and leashed because of him.
He cried for himself, trapped in this brutal world, responsible for death at the age of ten, his carefully laid plans already stained with blood.
Kasumi held him, stroking his white hair, murmuring soft, soothing words in her native dialect, offering comfort without demanding explanations.
————————————————————————————————————————————
(Shift POV - Hokage's Office - Later that Day)
Minato Namikaze read Genma's detailed mission report, his expression grim, his knuckles white where he gripped the scroll. Beside him, Hiruzen puffed silently on his pipe, smoke curling towards the ceiling, his eyes closed as if in painful contemplation.
"Root," Minato said finally, the single word cold as ice. "No doubt about it. The Tongue Eradication Seal is conclusive." He slammed the scroll down onto his desk. "Danzo moved against the boy barely two months after he graduated. And he was willing to sacrifice his own operatives, and my Genin, to do it."
"Danzo has always believed the ends justify the means, however ruthless," Hiruzen sighed, opening his eyes. They held a deep weariness, perhaps regret for allowing Danzo's shadow organization to fester for so long under his own leadership.
"He covets power – Kekkei Genkai, Jinchuriki, political influence. A Yuki prodigy, especially one potentially linked to the renowned 'Hyōjin', would be an irresistible target for his 'Foundation'."
"He bypassed ANBU oversight, operated outside the village using deniable assets, directly targeted a team under my command, and caused the death of a Konoha Genin," Minato listed the transgressions, his voice dangerously low.
"This level of insubordination, this blatant disregard for protocol and life, even for Danzo... it borders on treason."
"Proving it will be difficult," Hiruzen cautioned. "The prisoner Genma brought back, if he bears the seal, will reveal nothing. The bodies likely carry no direct link back to Danzo himself. He operates through layers of cut-outs."
"Perhaps," Minato conceded, pacing behind his desk. "But this gives me the leverage I need. His 'full cooperation' after the Kyuubi attack was a lie. His attempt to curtail Uchiha power was opportunistic. Now, this attack on Team Twelve... I can use this. Increase official scrutiny on all known former Root associates. Restrict Danzo's access further. Isolate him politically within the council."
He stopped, looking at Hiruzen. "It may not be enough to dismantle Root entirely without sparking internal conflict, but I will cage him more effectively."
He thought of the Cursed Seal on Kasumi. A distasteful measure, born of distrust after Obito's betrayal and her own deception. But now? It felt like a grimly necessary precaution. If Danzo was actively targeting Ryuu, having absolute control over Kasumi, ensuring she couldn't be coerced or manipulated into betraying Ryuu to Danzo, became paramount. The seal was a shield, in its own twisted way.
"And the boy?" Hiruzen asked quietly. "Ryuu Yuki. He carries his mother's burden, Danzo's attention, Orochimaru's potential interest... and this Ice Release. He is ten years old, Minato."
Minato stopped pacing, looking out the window at his village. "I know, sensei. The weight on his shoulders is immense." He thought of Naruto, carrying half the Kyuubi. He thought of Kakashi, hunting the ghost of his best friend. This generation, born in the shadow of war and tragedy, seemed destined to carry impossible burdens.
"Genma's assessment was clear," Minato continued. "The boy has S-Rank potential. His control is surprisingly developed, likely due to his mother's secret training, but his reserves are low, his combat instincts raw. He's intelligent, analytical, but the spar showed hesitation, and this mission... Kenta Miyamoto's death will scar him." He sighed. "We cannot ignore his potential, nor the threats surrounding him. We integrate him. Train him. Control him."
"The Cursed Seal on Kasumi-san..." Hiruzen began, his disapproval evident.
"Is a necessary evil for now, sensei," Minato stated firmly. "It ensures their loyalty and provides leverage against Danzo's likely attempts to interfere. It is regrettable, but the security of the village, and the containment of such potentially destabilizing factors, must come first." His gaze was unwavering. The Yellow Flash was also a Kage, capable of making ruthless decisions when required.
"Team Twelve will be placed on hiatus," Minato decided. "Give them time. A week, perhaps two. Let them process. Let Miyamoto's family grieve." He looked towards the door where Genma was likely waiting for further orders after delivering Kenta's body to the morgue and the sealed attackers to T&I. "Genma will need support too. Losing a Genin on their first C-Rank... it weighs heavily on a sensei."
He turned back to Hiruzen. "Assign a standard grief counselor to speak with Yuki and Uchiha, standard procedure, nothing more. Let Kasumi handle Ryuu primarily; their bond is crucial now. We watch, we wait, we gather more intel on Danzo's network. And we prepare Team Twelve for the realities ahead. Their next missions will need to be chosen carefully."
Hiruzen nodded slowly, taking a long draw from his pipe. "The path forward is fraught with shadows, Minato."
"It always is, sensei," Minato replied grimly. "It always is."
————————————————————————————————————————————
The days following their return blurred into a grey haze. The formal procedures took place with numb efficiency.
Filing the final mission report. A brief, harrowing visit to Kenta's grieving parents alongside Genma and Izumi, offering stilted condolences that felt utterly inadequate.
The quiet, somber funeral at the Konoha Cemetery, watching Kenta's simple wooden marker being placed among countless others.
Team Twelve was officially on hiatus.
Genma gave them leave, instructing them to rest, process, and maintain basic training individually until recalled. Izumi retreated into the Uchiha compound, her usual quietness now bordering on complete withdrawal when Ryuu occasionally saw her in the village throngs. He tried nodding once, she didn't seem to see him.
Ryuu spent most of his time in the apartment. Kasumi was… distant.
The Cursed Seal was an invisible barrier between them, unspoken but constantly felt. She ensured he ate, oversaw his basic physical conditioning, drilled him relentlessly on chakra suppression, but the warmth, the subtle connection they had forged during their flight, felt damaged, replaced by her own fear and the weight of Konoha's leash.
She rarely met his eyes directly, her own often lost in troubled thoughts.
He trained alone, pushing himself through katas, practicing wall walking until exhaustion, and controlling his ice release. The guilt was a constant, cold companion. He replayed the ambush endlessly in his mind.
The village outside the window seemed different too. The cheerful normalcy he'd observed before now felt like a thin, brittle facade.
He saw the Memorial Stone not just as a place of honor, but as a grim testament to the price of living in this world, a price Kenta had just paid.
His earlier calculations, his plans to manipulate the timeline, felt naive, arrogant.
He had barged into this world thinking his knowledge gave him an advantage, but he was just a child, physically weak, emotionally unprepared for the brutal reality of loss, tangibly responsible for a death.
Yes, he was an adult in his previous life. But that meant nothing. Mature decisions came from an outsiders perspective. Watching things unfold without partaking in them put you in a logical advantage, but here, he was nothing but weakling.
He had never killed before. He had never been responsible for the death of another.
It was hard for a sheltered existence to simply grow without truly suffering. He hadn't experienced war, hunger, or even thirst. He was privileged.
He thought things would be simple. He would grow stronger than the cast of characters, overpower them all. However, he was naive.
Naive to an extreme extent.
Konoha wasn't a game board; it was a minefield.
Danzo was real. Orochimaru was real. Akatsuki was real.
And he was trapped, exposed, his mother compromised, his path forward shrouded in uncertainty and the bitter taste of his first true failure.
The pessimism he'd held at bay threatened to consume him.
What was the point of striving for power, for survival, if the cost was the lives of those around him?
Was coming here truly the biggest mistake of his second life? He didn't have an answer, only an aching emptiness.