Knock!
Knock!
KNOCK!
The pounding shook the door in its frame—loud, sharp, and angry.
Tsunami's heart leapt into her throat. She froze mid-step, the wooden ladle slipping from her fingers and clattering onto the floor.
Please... no. Not again.
Her hands trembled as she stepped back from the entrance, eyes flicking toward the window. Outside, the mist was thick, heavy like a shroud draped over the village. She couldn't see the road. She couldn't see anything.
"Oh no…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Don't let it be Gato's men… not again. Not tonight…"
She turned quickly, hurrying to the next room.
"Inari!" she hissed. "Inari, hide!"
Her son looked up from where he sat near the fireplace, a wooden carving clenched in his small hands. His eyes widened immediately, sensing the fear in her voice.
Without a word, he scrambled up and ducked behind the curtain at the back of the room—the one that led to the cellar. He knew the drill. They both did.
Tsunami returned to the door with hesitant steps, heart thudding painfully in her chest. Her fingers brushed the edge of a kitchen knife tucked just under the table.
If they break in… if they demand more food, more coin…
Another knock—this time more controlled. Still firm, but not as wild.
Her breath hitched. That wasn't how Gato's men usually knocked.
Slowly, she reached for the door, fingers hovering just over the handle. "Who's there?" she called out, forcing strength into her voice.
No answer.
She grit her teeth, glanced again toward the cellar curtain.
Then she unlocked the door.
It creaked open—just a crack.
What greeted her made her blink in disbelief.
Two young girls stood on her doorstep, shoulders straining beneath the weight of an unconscious man slung between them. His head lolled to one side, a shock of silver hair sticking out like a mop, his mask torn and soaked with water. One of his arms hung limply, the other barely braced around one of the girls for support.
Behind them stood her father—Tazuna—mud-covered, breathing heavily but alive. A dark-haired boy trailed behind him, scanning the fog-covered street with narrowed eyes and a kunai still in hand.
"Tsunami," Tazuna breathed, relief flooding his face. "It's us."
She blinked again, her grip still white-knuckled on the edge of the door. "Papa…?"
The blonde girl on the left—barely older than Inari—adjusted her grip on the man's shoulder. "Please," she said. "We need to get him inside."
Tsunami stepped aside without another word, pulling the door open fully. "Quickly. Before someone sees."
They rushed in, boots scraping against the wooden floor.
The girls half-dragged, half-carried the man into the room, laying him gently on a woven mat near the hearth. Kakashi let out a low groan as he hit the ground, his breathing shallow and uneven. His clothes clung to him, soaked and torn, his chakra clearly spent.
"He wouldn't admit it," the dark-haired girl muttered, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. "But he collapsed the second we stepped off the road."
"He was pushing himself too hard," the other girl added softly, already checking his pulse. "Too much chakra strain."
Tsunami shut the door quickly and bolted it behind them. "What happened out there?" she whispered urgently, turning to Tazuna. "Who are these children? What happened to that—monster?"
Tazuna's face was grave. "We survived… barely. But it's not over. Not yet."
From the back of the house, a soft creak—Inari peeking around the curtain.
Tsunami rushed to him and pulled him into her arms. "It's okay," she whispered. "They're not Gato's men."
Inari clung to her, eyes wide at the sight of the strangers in their home, especially the injured man on the floor.
Kaguya stood up and turned toward Tsunami, her Byakugan fading back to normal. "We need to stay here for the night. Just until our sensei recovers enough to move again. We'll keep watch."
Tsunami looked at the girl—white-eyed, composed despite the mud and blood—and nodded slowly.
"Then stay," she said. "All of you. You're safe here. For now."
She looked back toward the unconscious man by the fire, steam already beginning to rise from his clothes as the warmth set in.
Who are these kids?
…
..
.
Kaguya sat alone on the wooden steps of the porch, the mist still clinging faintly to the treetops and rooftop tiles. The house was quiet now—Tsunami and Inari were asleep, and the others rested inside, save for her.
Above her, the stars glittered faintly through the haze.
She watched them pass, or at least seemed to. Slowly shifting, barely perceptible. But they were always moving. Always watching.
So far from home, yet the stars hardly change…
She hugged her knees to her chest, the cold seeping into her sleeves.
This was the first time she'd ever left the borders of the Land of Fire. The first time she'd stepped this far outside the walls of Konoha. And even though she was surrounded by her team, the land felt… different, not like konoha by far.
The Wave was a place that barely held itself together.
Collapsed homes. Empty markets. Eyes that didn't trust, even when begging for help. Tsunami's front door still had three locks, and she checked them all twice. Even Inari slept like he expected the house to be broken into.
Kaguya closed her eyes briefly.
How did things get this bad?
Gato's name came up like bile in her mind. Why must there be such evil and hatred in this world?
Even with her training, her doujutsu, her instincts—there was nothing in the world that prepared her for seeing this level of poverty up close. The desperation. The helplessness.
And yet...
She opened her eyes again, letting her gaze drift back to the sky.
The stars hadn't changed.
Maybe they never would.
"You're still awake."
The voice came from behind her—low, calm, familiar.
She turned slightly to see Sasuke approaching from the doorway, arms crossed, a blanket draped over one shoulder, his kunai pouch strapped securely at his side.
He didn't speak right away. Just stood there, silhouetted by the dim light behind him, studying her with those dark, unreadable eyes.
Sometimes she wondered—if he ever found out she was Naruto… or that she carried the Kyūbi sealed within her—what would he do?
Would he turn on her? Hate her? Fear her?
Or would he accept her… the way he never could when she wore a different face?
He'd changed. That much was obvious. He was quieter now. Kinder. Less of a jerk than she remembered from the academy.
"…It's your turn already?" she asked softly, her voice barely carrying over the chirping insects in the distance.
Sasuke gave a small nod. "Yeah. You've been out here long enough."
Kaguya exhaled and slowly unfolded her legs. Her joints ached more than she'd expected—guard duty wasn't just about watching. It was about patience. Stillness. Constant awareness. A different kind of endurance.
She stood and brushed the dirt from her robes, nodding as she passed him.
"It's quiet out," she murmured.
He tilted his head slightly. "That's not always a good thing."
She paused at the doorway, glancing back.
Sasuke stepped forward into the cool night, his eyes scanning the treeline, his kunai already in hand. His posture was still and steady, the same quiet focus she'd seen earlier in the day. A soldier on edge.
"…Wake me if anything changes," she said.
For a moment, there was only the wind.
Then, without turning to look at her, Sasuke replied, voice low, "I will."
She lingered, just for a second, watching him framed beneath the stars. The faint silver of moonlight touched the edge of his profile, casting half his face in shadow.
Then she turned and slipped back inside, the floorboards creaking softly beneath her feet as the door shut behind her.
…
…
…
The moon hung low over a palace garden, soft light spilling over cherry blossoms and polished stones. Kaguya stood there, hands folded over her stomach, caught between recognition and confusion. She knew this was a dream—she could feel the strange weight of it pressing on her mind, pulling her words from her lips like a tide beyond her control.
Then she saw him.
A man. Young, dressed in fine silks, eyes warm and searching. His presence stirred something deep within her—a flicker of something familiar she couldn't name.
He spoke her name softly.
"Kaguya," he said.
She wanted to stop herself, to remain silent. But the words came anyway.
"Tenji, I am with child."
His eyes widened with joy, a light she had never seen before igniting in their depths.
"Then you carry life within you," he breathed, stepping closer. "We will have princes and princesses. Children who will rule this kingdom."
His arms reached out to her, wrapping around her with gentle certainty. She wanted to pull away but couldn't. Her body moved in the dream without her permission, leaning into the warmth she didn't know she needed.
He held her face in his hands, his touch tender and reverent.
"Kaguya…" he whispered, voice thick with hope and something like love. "You've given me a future."
A tear slid down her cheek, and she tried to blink it away. But the dream clung to her, unwilling to release its hold.
—
When she finally awoke, it was not with a gasp but with soft tears tracing silent paths down her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered open to the dim light of the fire beside her. She touched her face gently, still feeling the ghost of his hands.
Who was he?
The question echoed quietly inside her mind, tangled with a strange ache she couldn't place.
There had been an overwhelming gentleness in that moment—the warmth of his touch, the softness in his voice—as if she had been held and cherished like she never had before. But beneath it all, a faint trace of something else lingered, a shadow she couldn't shake.
A sharp edge.
A bitterness.
It clung to the memory like smoke trailing a dying fire, cold and unwelcome, as if something had been lost or taken from her long ago—something she was meant to remember but couldn't quite reach. And perhaps didn't want to remember…
Her fingers trembled slightly as she wiped at her cheeks, heart heavy with a sorrow she had no name for.
The dream faded, but its weight remained.