Void all yesterday,
Now you are in front of me,
I want to love, please give me a chance…
Kurenai Yuhi stood frozen, her crimson eyes widening in disbelief. Before her, Sarutobi Asuma — the man she had lost long ago, the man she had mourned countless nights for — was standing alive again.
It felt surreal. Just like someone who had left long ago, someone whose absence had hollowed out her nights, where she would stare at his photo for hours, unable to sleep, tormented by memories and grief. In the end, she had forced herself to accept reality, to accept his departure on some unremarkable morning when exhaustion overcame denial.
But now… he was here.
Alive.
Standing before her again.
Asuma shifted uneasily under her gaze, scratching the back of his head. The atmosphere was painfully awkward, and he knew it.
"Actually," he began sheepishly, his voice carrying both guilt and hesitation, "I was brought back during the Fourth Shinobi World War… through the Impure World Reincarnation. I even… had to fight against the kids." He gave a bitter laugh. "Later, I was sealed away and returned to the village like that. Until now… Shikamaru went to Naruto and asked him to release me. So… here I am."
He trailed off, unsure of what more to say.
Before Asuma could continue, Kurenai suddenly rushed forward, her arms wrapping around him tightly. A sob broke free from her throat, trembling and raw.
Asuma's eyes softened instantly. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he raised his arms and held her.
The moment he embraced her, her crying only grew louder. Her body trembled against him as she pounded his chest and shoulders with her fists — not to hurt him, but as if to punish him, as if to accuse him of abandoning her and their unborn child back then, leaving her to shoulder everything alone.
Asuma gently rubbed her back, coaxing her as he once used to.
"Alright, alright… it's my fault. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. Please, don't cry anymore."
But Kurenai did not relent. Her fists kept landing on him, weaker each time, until her strength was drained by grief and relief alike.
They remained locked in each other's arms. When Asuma finally tried to pull away, Kurenai clung tighter, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
"I don't want to…"
Asuma blinked in surprise. "What's wrong?"
Her voice cracked, heavy with fear.
"I'm scared… I'm scared that if I let go, you'll disappear again."
Asuma's heart ached at those words. He smiled faintly, though his chest tightened with guilt.
"No. I'm immortal now — or rather, this form is. I won't just vanish on you again."
Kurenai leaned back slightly, her teary eyes scanning his face. For the first time, she noticed the subtle signs — the pale skin, the faint cracks, the aura of someone revived through the Impure World Reincarnation.
"You were brought back with the Impure World Reincarnation," she murmured. "Did Lord Hokage approve of this? I thought Naruto sealed away all those resurrected during the war."
Asuma recalled his conversation with Shikamaru.
"From what I heard, Naruto decided not to dispel everyone's souls. He said… with more conflicts bound to come, it would be better to keep some of us sealed and release us if necessary. Shikamaru personally asked him to release me. So… I think I'll be staying for good this time."
Kurenai's lips quivered, relief and joy flashing in her eyes.
"So… you won't be sealed away again?"
Asuma shook his head. "No. Otherwise, Shikamaru wouldn't have gone out of his way to bring me back."
Kurenai smiled, her tears still flowing but lighter now.
Asuma tilted his head. "Why are you smiling like that?"
She tightened her grip on his hand, her voice trembling with happiness.
"Because this means you can stay with me… and with our child."
Asuma's heart swelled. Yes — even if his body was that of the Impure World Reincarnation, he could still be here. He could still be a father, a partner. He could still share these small, fleeting moments. That was a blessing he never thought he'd have.
"At least…" he thought, "Mirai will finally have a father to call her own."
Kurenai suddenly tugged his arm.
"Oh, that's right!"
She pulled him toward the balcony, pointing at the garden below where flowers were in full bloom.
"Look — these flowers have already blossomed beautifully."
Asuma looked at them, then at her, and smiled. "Yeah… they really have."
They leaned against each other, holding hands, soaking in the peace of the moment.
Outside, Shikamaru Nara was carrying Mirai Sarutobi around his neck as they walked down the street.
"Brother Shikamaru," Mirai asked, her small arms around his neck, "who was that person just now?"
Shikamaru gave a faint smile. "He's someone very close to you."
Mirai tilted her head in thought. "Hmm… I felt it too. When that uncle hugged me, I didn't feel scared. But… something was strange. His hands didn't feel warm."
Shikamaru's smile faltered. His chest tightened with sorrow.
Of course. How could an Impure World Reincarnation have warmth in their touch?
Still, he thought to himself, this was better than nothing. Better than a grave. At least Asuma was back, at least Kurenai had someone to lean on, and at least Mirai had the chance to know her father.
Mirai's stomach growled suddenly.
"Brother Shikamaru, I'm hungry! I wanna go home and eat!"
Shikamaru chuckled. "Alright, alright. We've been out long enough anyway. By now, Kurenai-sensei and Asuma-sensei must have had enough time together. Let's head back."
On the way, Shikamaru crouched down slightly so Mirai could hear him more clearly.
"Listen, Mirai. When we get back, you'll see that uncle again. But he's… different from what you might expect. Don't be surprised, okay? Just remember what I told you — it's the truth."
Mirai blinked at him, confused. "Eh? Why?"
Shikamaru only sighed, patting her head.
Finally, they arrived at Kurenai's home.
Shikamaru knocked on the door. Moments later, the handle turned and the door opened — revealing Asuma.
"You're back," Asuma said warmly.
Shikamaru nodded, then glanced down at Mirai. The girl's eyes widened instantly. She froze, staring at Asuma as if the ground beneath her had vanished.
"You… you're the one from the photo!" she exclaimed.
From the kitchen, Kurenai emerged, wiping her hands. She smiled through her tears.
"Mirai, this is your father. Go on… call him Daddy."
Asuma crouched down, his eyes soft, extending his arms.
"Mirai… come here."
Mirai turned, her small hands trembling as she pointed at him, then at Shikamaru.
"Brother Shikamaru… that uncle… is he the same one from before?"
Shikamaru crouched too, nodding gently.
"Yes, Mirai. He's my teacher… and your real father. Sarutobi Asuma."
Mirai's lips quivered. She stared at Asuma, then shook her head violently.
"No! You're not my father! My father is dead! You're a fake — you're a bad guy!"
Kurenai gasped, covering her mouth, tears streaming again.
Mirai's small body trembled as she shouted, her words torn between confusion and grief.
"You're lying! My dad is dead! Mama cries to his picture every night… you can't be him! You're bad, you're a bad man!"
Asuma's chest tightened, guilt overwhelming him. He rushed forward, wrapping Mirai into his arms. His voice broke as he whispered:
"Mirai… I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything I couldn't give you and your mother."
But Mirai thrashed in his arms, beating against his chest with her little fists.
"Go away! Go away! You're not Daddy! Waaaaaah!"
Kurenai, unable to hold back any longer, broke into sobs.
The scene of father and daughter — reunited, yet torn apart by fear, confusion, and grief — filled the small home with the weight of years lost.
And though Asuma's arms were strong, though his heart longed to stay, only time could heal the wound of recognition.
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