Koji was still on his high from Yuki's last visit. The time spent together had been amazing; he spent half his days just looking at the newest few pages of pictures he had taken of her, all added to those that came before, and with plenty of time for new ones.
He secretly dreamed about adding pictures of her pregnant with his kids… even if he knew it was unlikely, but a guy is allowed to dream.
And dream he did, about all the future things they would do together, hoping for new missions with her, wanting to spend time with her; she was part of his pack, family.
Kuro felt the same, the mutt having taken an instant liking to Yuki, and Yuki too enjoyed spending time with him. Koji was living the sweet life with a family of three.
This otherwise ordinary afternoon, he was thinking about trying to get a new mission, something that would distract him until Yuki returned from her current mission.
It had only been days, and he already missed her so damned much.
Suddenly, both his and Kuro's noses twitched, as did their ears.
Someone was coming.
Yet, it was someone they knew, so they didn't move from their spots, just continued to lie, sprawled out in the yard, enjoying the last of the day's sun.
When Tsume's shadow fell over him. She didn't speak right away; that was when he knew something was up.
Tsume never hesitated; she would often just kick him to get his attention, yet… she did nothing.
That was strange enough for him to crack open his eyes to look up at her, and when he did, he quickly grew serious and sat up.
Because of the look on her face, that was something that scared him; it was cold, hard, and held within it pain and pity.
An odd combination, yet one that caused him no end of unease.
"…What happened?" he finally asked, his mind working through anyone in the clan he knew who was out on a mission.
Tsume's eyes burned, her jaw tight. She had always been fire, untouchable, unshakable. But now her gaze faltered. "It's Yuki."
The moment that name left her lips, Koji was sure his heart was about to burst out of his chest in worry. Never before had his mouth felt as dry as it did when he spoke next. "What about Yuki?"
Her silence stretched. Koji's heart plummeted. He knew. He didn't want to know, but he knew.
"She's gone."
The words hollowed him out in an instant. His breath caught, strangled, and the world… changed.
The sky above dimmed, the late sun paling to gray. The greens of the yard, shining black of his fur, felt lifeless and dull. The scarlet scarf knotted at his throat, a gift from Yuki — all of it bled into ash, color draining away as if someone had pulled the life out of the world. The air felt heavier, pressing down on him, every sound muffled as though he'd been thrust underwater.
He stared up at Tsume, praying that she was joking, that this was just some sick prank. He even put his fingers together and disturbed his chakra, hoping beyond hope that this wasn't real, just a genjutsu.
Yet, nothing changed; the pain, the grief, and pity on Tsume's face remained, real. And the world didn't change as if an illusion was lifted. This… this was real…
He couldn't understand it. His mind is just unable to comprehend it. Just days ago, Yuki had been in his arms, covered in his scent, his marks, she had been so full of life… and now… now the world itself felt dead.
Koji's lips parted, but no words came. His throat closed up, and all he could manage was a rasp that tore at his chest.
Kuro pressed against him, whining, nosing at his arm like he could anchor him to the earth. But Koji barely felt it. His whole body was numb, like his skin had turned to stone while his heart bled inside.
He wanted to howl. To scream until the heavens cracked and the whole world felt the pain tearing him apart. But when he opened his mouth, no sound came. Just silence. Just emptiness.
He didn't even notice when tears started streaming down his face; he felt nothing beyond the emptiness, the pain, the despair, and disbelief.
"She can't be gone," he whispered, the words shaking. "She was just here… she was just here…"
Tsume's jaw clenched. For once, she didn't smirk, didn't scold, didn't fill the silence with bravado. She crouched down in front of him, eye-level, her hand resting firmly on his shoulder — not gentle, but grounding, the grip of a clan leader anchoring her kin.
"We're all family here, Koji," she said, voice rough with grief. "And we just lost one of ours. One of the best of ours." Her teeth bared for a moment, sharp, more snarl than smile. "Don't you dare think you're alone in this."
Kuro whined again, then threw his head back and howled — long, low, and mournful. The sound cracked something open in Koji's chest, and at last, the sob tore free. He doubled over, clutching fistfuls of Kuro's fur, pressing his forehead into the ninken's shoulder as his body shook.
The Inuzuka lived through their bonds. And when that bond was severed, it was like death itself.
"She was my partner," Koji choked out, voice muffled in Kuro's fur. "She was my pack. My mate. My everything… and now she's—" His voice broke, splintered like glass. "Now she's gone."
The yard felt too quiet after his words, like the whole world was holding its breath. Even the birds had gone silent.
Tsume's grip on his shoulder tightened. Not comforting, not soft — but steady, unyielding, the way a clan leader promised she would carry what her kin could not.
"She fought like hell," Tsume said quietly, almost a growl. "If there was any way back, she would've taken it. You know that."
Koji didn't answer. He couldn't. His tears soaked into Kuro's fur as his fingers clutched desperately at the only family left to him.
The world was gray now. Empty. Broken.
And Koji couldn't imagine it ever holding color again.
Tsume felt pain seeing him like that. This war had been brutal; many came back hurt, or not at all.
Every time someone lost their companion, they would be devastated; less than one in ten would ever be able to return to active duty. She knew, she knew that Koji, one of the clan's best and brightest, wouldn't.
He was broken from this… and she resigned herself to having to force the paperwork through to retire him. She knew the Hokage wouldn't approve… but to hell with him.
Koji had lost half his world today, and she knew if he did leave the clan, the village, for a mission, then he wouldn't return alive. Too many times had she heard about situations of the last few wars where shinobi of their clan would throw their lives away after losing their partners.
She wouldn't lose anyone like that, not now that she was clan head. This was something she had sworn long ago, and Koji, too, would be protected, because he was family, and the Inuzuka looked out for the pack.
"Kuro… take care of him." That was all she could say, as she left to give Koji some peace. Kuro didn't say anything. The Ninken was just as hurt as Koji was. Thankfully, Kuromaru stayed behind to keep a watch over them.
-----
The Hokage's office smelled of smoke. Ash curled from the bowl at Hiruzen Sarutobi's elbow, his pipe forgotten as the report in his hand trembled ever so slightly.
Another loss.
Another name.
Hyūga Yuki: Jōnin. Deceased in the line of duty.
He closed his eyes, the weight of it pressing against his chest like a millstone. Yuki had been more than promising. Fierce, clever, versatile — a kunoichi who balanced taijutsu mastery with unorthodox tactics, someone the younger generation already whispered about. She could have been a pillar for the next era.
Instead, her life had been gambled away.
The knock on the door was sharp, hurried. Before Hiruzen could speak, the messenger slid inside and bowed low. "Lord Hokage, I bring confirmation from the Hyūga survivors. Root operatives were present at the scene. They obstructed the retreat, resulting in significant casualties. Yuki-sama remained behind to engage Killer B alone… and perished in the attempt."
Hiruzen's fingers clenched around the paper until it crumpled. His voice was quiet, but iron-hard. "Root."
"Yes, Hokage-sama."
For a long moment, only the faint hiss of the pipe filled the silence. Hiruzen set it aside and rose slowly to his feet, the shadow of his hat heavy across his face. His gaze was sharp as kunai, fixed not on the messenger but on something far darker.
"Danzo," he muttered, almost a growl. "Even now, when we bleed on every front, when Konoha needs unity, you still play your games. You would sacrifice one of our brightest for your schemes?" His hand tightened until his knuckles turned white. "Damn you."
The messenger kept his head bowed, wisely silent.
Hiruzen turned to the window, looking out across the rooftops of Konoha. Children's laughter echoed faintly from the streets below, so jarring against the storm that brewed inside him. How many of those children would die, their futures cut short by men who claimed to act for the good of the village?
"We cannot afford this," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "Every life wasted weakens the Will of Fire. Despite her nature as a branch member of the Hyūga clan, she would have been a protector and mother of the next generation."
He just couldn't understand why Danzo would do something so meaningless, to kill someone like Yuki? A powerful card in Konoha's hand? She was no risk; she literally couldn't betray the village.
She also had a massive weakness: her secret relationship with the Inuzuka clan boy. He was the Hokage; he naturally knew about such things, few things could escape his eyes, and that weakness was something that could be used to stop any political ambitions of the Hyūga clan.
Her death would bring nothing, and her death would not only weaken the village's power but also cause massive damage to the internal bonds. He had no doubt that the Hyūga hated Danzo's guts now, and that hate would reflect back at him, the one who gave Danzo the means to cause Yuki's death.
"Damn you, Danzo, you will pay for this," he swore angrily as he quickly picked up his pipe, needing the calming effect of his tobacco now more than ever.
-----
Hiashi felt dead inside as he returned to the clan after ensuring that the survivors of the disastrous mission didn't suffer any further mishaps. And now, he stood in a deeply hidden and protected chamber, his father silently at his side.
Before them was a massive sealed cabinet. Which held the most important treasure of the clan, or at least the main family.
Countless paper seals, each one with a name and picture.
Each one represented and connected to the caged bird seal on one of the branch members. Allowing the main family to track them, and activate them from a great range, making sure none could escape or run away, at least as long as they had the slip belonging to them.
With not every body recovered, they had to make sure their seals had gone off.
His heart was hammering in his chest as he opened a special box. Inside, only a single sealing tag, one removed from the others, a special one only he had access to. Inside, lay a badly damaged seal.
The damage indicated with brutal finality that the caged bird seal had gone off… that it no longer existed. Yuki… she was gone.
"I'm sorry, son." His father said, yet he sounded so weak, the death of Yuki had hurt the entire clan. His father was no exception; he had been looking forward to their marriage between Yuki and him.
Hoping to see grandchildren soon.
And now, he blamed himself for this… if he had done more… maybe this could have been avoided… if he had done something to stop Yuki from being sent on that mission…
He sighed… Hiashi was hurt, and clearly needed a moment… and he needed to go inform Yuki's parents about the situation… something he didn't look forward to.
"Damn you, Danzo, damn you, Hiruzen." He cursed as he left Hiashi alone with his loss.
(End of chapter)
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