Chapter 17
The morning dew shimmered under the first soft rays of the sun as two men walked through the ruins of their home.
Around them, Uzushiogakure was a shadow of its former self. Roads were buckled and torn, and the few buildings still standing were etched with deep, jagged cracks. As they moved, civilians began to trickle out from the underground shelters. The pain in their eyes was unmistakable as they surveyed the wreckage of their prosperous village, yet they still paused to bow toward Kenji and Shōto—a silent, heavy gesture of gratitude that masked their own devastation.
The two leaders walked on in silence until they reached the massive, scorched remains of the main gate.
Kenji forced a small, weary smile onto his face. "Sakumo... it has been a long time," he greeted, his eyes lingering on Sakumo and his squad. "You have grown into a fine shinobi."
"Kenji-sama... it is good to see you..." Sakumo began, his voice trailing off as he took in the state of the man before him.
"Alive?" Shōto remarked from behind Kenji, his gaze sweeping over the Konoha reinforcements. His eyes narrowed as he counted the heads. "You've brought fewer ANBU than I remember seeing."
"Now now, Shōto. Let the man breathe," Kenji chided gently. He looked at Sakumo's worn-out state and noted the state of his gear. "It seems your journey was not an easy one. I appreciate your arrival and am grateful to Konoha. But understand, Sakumo—our current situation is delicate. We are in recovery."
He paused, his eyes sweeping over the ANBU squad. "You may patrol the outer perimeter and establish a camp there for rest."
Having said his piece, Kenji turned to leave, his mind already calculating how to manage the remaining supplies. But Sakumo's voice, sharp and professional, stopped him in his tracks.
"If you don't mind me asking, Kenji-sama," Sakumo said seriously, "What could have caused this much devastation?"
Shōto bristled, but Kenji raised a hand to silence him. His eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Were you not informed?" Kenji's voice turned accusatory. "There were Jinchuriki present here. Saki Uzumaki fought them. And she won."
The ANBU behind Sakumo visibly stiffened. Sakumo let the information sink in, his mind racing to match the scale of the craters to the power of a Tailed Beast. He nodded slowly. "Thank you for answering, Kenji-sama."
Kenji sighed, the exhaustion returning to his features. He understood Sakumo's duty as a commander, but his patience was at its limit.
"I know you have your orders, Sakumo," Kenji said, his voice dropping to a temperature as cold as ice. "But I hope you will remain within your boundaries."
In that instant, a suffocating wave of Killing Intent flooded the clearing. It felt like a physical weight pressing down on the lungs of every shinobi present, a specific warning to the ANBU hiding in the shadows. Without another word, Kenji walked back into the village.
Once they were well beyond the ANBU's sensory range, Kenji spoke quietly. "Keep an eye on them, Shōto. I trust Sakumo, but the ANBU are a different matter entirely."
Shōto nodded. His hands were already weaving seals.
Kenji let out another weary sigh, stopping in the shadow of a partially collapsed building. "How much longer are you going to hide... Sensei?"
From the deep shadows emerged a figure.
Despite being addressed as Sensei, he looked barely in his early thirties. He had the classic Uzumaki features.
This was Akamitsu Uzumaki, the same 'cousin' that came with Tsunade.
"Hah. Please, don't call me Sensei, Kenji-sama," Akamitsu replied with a sheepish rub of his neck. "I was merely the escort for you and Mito-sama. I only taught you the basics."
As the formal pleasantries faded, Akamitsu's gaze drifted downward, locking onto the wooden mask hanging from Kenji's waist. The lightheartedness vanished from his expression, replaced by a flicker of unease.
"So," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "It wasn't a myth after all."
He hesitated, his eyes darting between the mask and Kenji's weary face. "Did—did it actually work?"
Kenji was taken aback for a heartbeat but nonetheless. "Yes," he answered, his voice heavy. "I felt it react."
He narrowed his eyes slightly. "But how do you know about that? I was under the impression only the Clan Head held that knowledge."
"Your father mentioned it in passing once," Akamitsu admitted, looking away as if the memory carried its own weight. "I saw him holding it. He told me then that it was nothing more than a legend and it did not work."
Then changing the subject, he gestured toward the path ahead. "Now, let's go see that troublesome girl."
Kenji nodded, letting the subject of the mask drop for now, and they began the walk toward the main compound. Behind them, Shōto remained silent, his eyes fixed on the strange wooden mask, his expression curious.
*******
Sakumo sighed and placed his mask back in his face, his hand halfway raised to signal a command when a voice from behind interrupted him.
"What monsters…"
Sakumo's eyebrow arched as he turned toward the operative. He didn't reprimand the breach of protocol; he knew exactly whose voice sat behind that porcelain ANBU mask. Instead, as they began to pick their way through the debris of the surrounding area, he kept his pace steady.
"Care to elaborate on your commentary, Owl?" Sakumo's voice carried a thin edge of warning. An ANBU was a shadow; shadows did not whisper.
"Ah. My apologies, Commander," Owl replied, the realization of his slip-second following his words. "I was... simply surprised. I've never seen shinobi walk in that condition, much less exert that level of pressure."
"Explain," Sakumo commanded. He took Owl's assessments seriously for one vital reason—
"My Byakugan caught a glimpse of their internal networks before they moved out of range."
—Owl was one of the few Hyūga elites permitted within the ANBU's black-ops division for this mission.
"Shōto-san's chakra was nearly depleted, and what little remained was flowing erratically. My best guess? He was fighting through a potent poison, yet he was still weaving high-level clones as if it cost nothing."
Sakumo nodded, his mind already filing the details for the report he would eventually have to deliver to the Hokage. But Owl wasn't finished.
"And Kenji-sama…" The ANBU hesitated, searching for the right words. "I don't know how to describe what I saw. It looked as if his very essence had been hollowed out—sucked dry—and then stitched back together with raw healing chakra. By any medical standard we have in Konoha, that man should be dead."
Sakumo stopped. He looked back toward the distant gates, a flicker of genuine shock crossing his features. He knew the Uzumaki were resilient, but this was a different kind of endurance altogether.
"And?" Sakumo prompted, noticing the lingering hesitation in Owl's posture.
"I couldn't see into the village center," Owl admitted, a trace of frustration in his tone. "The area is isolated by high-level seals. My sight couldn't penetrate the barrier."
Sakumo nodded. That was the least surprising part of the conversation. They were Uzumaki, after all; if anyone could blind a Hyūga, it was them.
"Scout the area for a camp," Sakumo ordered, his voice returning to its professional, clipped tone. "I'll inform the Hokage of the situation here immediately."
On his signal, the ANBU vanished, blurring into the shadows of the surrounding forest.
******
Kenji, Shōto, and Akamitsu moved through the wreckage of what was once a thriving street. Everywhere they looked, people were pulling at the remains of their former lives—clearing rubble, searching through broken timber for anything that had survived the destruction. A few shinobi worked alongside them, their flak jackets covered in soot and dust.
The only silver lining was the civilian casualty count; it was lower than Kenji had feared. But those who had fallen were not just numbers on a page. They were parents, children, and friends, and their families' mourning echoed through the narrow, broken alleyways.
A shinobi flickered into existence in front of them. Kenji recognized him—the man he'd tasked with the grim duty of tallying survivors.
"Speak," Kenji commanded.
The ninja nodded, his voice tight. "Kenji-sama, we have five hundred able-bodied shinobi remaining. Another hundred are injured; our medic-nin expect most of them to make a full recovery." He hesitated, his throat working as he forced out the rest. "But... there are others. Dozens have sustained life-altering injuries. Permanent trauma. Lost limbs."
Kenji released a long, pained sigh. It was only thanks to Tsunade's timely arrival that they had five hundred fighters left at all, but the thought of his kin crippled by the invasion felt like a fresh wound.
"And the civilians?" Kenji asked, his voice low. "The ones who stepped up to help me when the barriers were failing?"
"They are mostly safe, sir. Severe chakra exhaustion and minor injuries, but they will survive."
Kenji closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting the relief wash over him before his mask of leadership settled back into place. They had reached the main compound.
"Good. Now, I need a full accounting of our remaining resources. Food, weapons, sealing scrolls—everything. Go."
Hai!" The ninja flickered away, leaving nothing behind but the faint whistle of shifting wind.
"Rebuilding will be a monumental task," Shōto remarked, his voice heavy as he fell into step beside Kenji.
"It will be," Kenji confirmed. He turned his gaze to Shōto, his expression hardening. "I want you to arrange a meeting for tomorrow. Summon the heads of every department." As they moved down the hallway, he added, "Kushina will join us. It is time she learned the inner workings of this village."
Shōto nodded thoughtfully. "I'll include Sakuko as well. She needs the experience. Everything has moved too fast for her—from her promotion to Jōnin Commander straight into a surprise invasion. She needs to find her footing."
Observing them from the side, Akamitsu felt a ghost of a smile tug at his lips. The exchange felt like a mirror of the past—back when the previous Clan Head decided Kenji and Mito were finally ready to shoulder the weight of responsibility.
The conversation died as they turned the corner. Further down the hall, Kushina and Sakuko were pacing restlessly outside the infirmary doors. Their faces were etched with anxiety, their eyes darting toward the closed room every few seconds.
Upon seeing the men, Sakuko froze and offered a stiff, formal bow. Kushina, however, broke. She rushed forward and threw her arms around her father.
"Dad... she's going to be alright, isn't she?" she whispered into his chest, her voice trembling.
"....."
Kenji didn't answer. He simply closed his eyes and held her tighter.
Then they all waited together outside the room. Seconds stretched into minutes, and minutes stretched into hours.
After waiting for an hour and a half, Kenji had to go.
As much as he wanted to stay and see Saki's condition, he had a crumbling village to hold together.
But he stopped Shōto from following him. At least one of them had to stay here. He instead took Akamitsu with him, as he also needed to talk with him privately.
Another half hour passed.
The door opened and Tsunade came out with an exhausted look. Kushina and the others looked at her, but she shook her head and said in a resigned voice.
"I don't know what's happening to her." Everyone waited for her to continue. "Her outside temperature is stable, but her inside is in total chaos. The chakra she's circulating is very volatile. It rejects any intrusion. So, my healing chakra is having close to no effect."
Then her eyes landed on Shōto, and she said, "Uncle Shōto, I need you to check on those strange, petal-like seals on her body. I tried to examine them, but they're beyond my understanding."
Shōto nodded and began walking towards the room. As Tsunade turned to follow, she was stopped when a small trembling hand tugged at her clothes.
She looked behind and met violet eyes looking up at her with hope.
"She'll survive... won't she?" Kushina's voice was a mere whisper, her fingers tightening on Tsunade's clothes.
Tsunade's throat tightened. What could she say to her? Lie to comfort her, or tell the truth that even she didn't know what was happening to Saki?
"I don't know." Kushina's eyes dimmed, but Tsunade continued, "But those seals around her body are protecting her and healing her. They are keeping her alive. That's why it is important to understand them. So we can solve the problem from its root."
Tsunade chose both. A half-truth and a half-lie.
"Can I see her?" Kushina asked.
Tsunade hesitated, then sighed and nodded. As the girl slipped past, Tsunade's gaze drifted to the one person who had been eerily silent throughout the ordeal.
Sakuko stood like a statue, her face a mask of practiced indifference. To a stranger, she looked cold; to Tsunade, who knew the cracks in that armor, she looked shattered.
But she couldn't afford to show her scars like Kushina, much like Shoto or Kenji. They were the pillars of the clan. They couldn't afford to break now.
Tsunade stepped close to her and hugged her friend. A few seconds later, she felt Sakuko's arms tighten as she hugged Tsunade back.
Sakuko didn't ask about her teacher's safety; she understood the underlying truth Tsunade hadn't told Kushina.
"How much time does she have?" So, with a trembling voice she asked and her hug tightened around Tsunade.
Tsunade answered in a broken whisper, "One week."
After a few seconds.
"Let's go inside. I also want to see her." Sakuko let go of Tsunade.
******
Oh yes, before i forget.
FUCK YOU TRUMP!!