After everyone woke up, the inn buzzed with quiet efficiency—futons rolled, packs slung over shoulders, final cups of tea downed in silence. The snow outside had eased into a light flurry, dusting the eaves and paths in fresh white.
It was time to leave.
Gaara and his siblings prepared to depart for Suna—Gaara offering Tsunade one last measured nod of respect, Kankuro complaining about the cold one final time. Temari lingered near the doorway, fan strapped tight to her back, waiting until the others had stepped out.
She caught Naruto's eye.
He stepped aside with her—into the narrow hallway just off the main entrance, out of sight from the rest.
Temari didn't speak at first. She just closed the distance, rose on her toes, and wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight, private hug. Her cheek pressed to his shoulder; she smelled faintly of desert wind and jasmine.
"We'll meet again after the war," she whispered against his jacket, voice low but steady. "Don't do anything stupid before then."
Naruto's arms came around her waist—gentle but firm—holding her for a long moment.
"I won't," he murmured. "You stay safe too."
She pulled back just enough to look at him—teal eyes searching his face—then gave a small, fierce smile.
"See you, idiot."
She turned and walked out—ponytail swaying, steps confident—joining Gaara and Kankuro as they vanished into the snow.
Naruto watched until they were gone.
*'Damn… I need to see Ino and Hinata before any of this starts.'*
He glanced back toward the main room where Tsunade was buckling her green haori.
'Maybe even her.' he then looked at Karin. And shook his head ' Nah too early'
He walked back to the group.
They were ready—packs secured, cloaks fastened against the cold. Tsunade gave him a quick once-over, eyebrow raised like she knew exactly where his mind had wandered.
"Ready, brat?"
He grinned. "Always."
They left the inn in a tight formation—Tsunade leading, Kakashi and Yamato flanking, Naruto and Karin at the rear.
The moment they cleared the village outskirts, they exploded forward.
Sprint.
Over 100 km/h—boots barely touching snow, wind roaring past their ears, trees blurring into white streaks. Chakra surged through their legs in perfect rhythm; no wasted movement, no breaks. The Land of Iron fell away behind them—mountains, forests, frozen rivers—all swallowed by speed.
Less than five hours later, Konoha's gates rose ahead—massive red torii stark against the winter sky, guards snapping to attention as the group landed in a perfect line before the entrance.
'That was fun,' Naruto thought mid-stride. 'Funny—the Land of Iron is literally in another country. So basically we crossed borders in hours.'
Snow puffed up around their boots on impact—soft white clouds drifting lazily in the cold air, settling back down like settling dust after a storm.
Karin doubled over, hands on her knees, breathing like a dying cat—ragged, wheezing gasps, face flushed red from exertion, red hair plastered to her forehead with sweat despite the freezing temperature.
Naruto glanced down at her, hands in his pockets.
"You'll get used to it," he said casually.
Karin shot him a glare between pants.
"What do you mean get used to it?!" she snapped, voice cracking. "At least Sasuke would give us breaks!"
Naruto smirked—small, sharp.
"Good thing we're not Sasuke."
She huffed—half laugh, half exhausted scoff—and straightened slowly, still breathing hard but steadying.
The gate sentries snapped sharp salutes, armor clinking, breath fogging in perfect unison.
Tsunade wasted no time.
"Give a message to all shinobi of the Leaf," she ordered, voice carrying like steel across the quiet morning. "Excluding the young ones. Anyone above chūnin—assemble at the Hokage Tower in one hour."
The guards nodded once—then vanished in twin body-flicker bursts, leaving only faint swirls of displaced snow and the echo of their departure.
Tsunade turned to the group.
"I'll see y'all later."
She strode toward the tower—cloak snapping behind her in the wind, heels clicking sharp against the stone path, posture straight and unyielding.
Naruto watched her go for a second—eyes lingering on the way her hair caught the pale sunlight.
Then he glanced at Kakashi, Karin, and Yamato.
He turned to Karin first.
"They'll just ask you questions," he said, voice low enough for only her to hear. "Feel free and tell them everything. They won't torture you if you're honest. So… good luck. When you're done, stay in the Hokage Tower. I'll come and get you from there."
Karin stared at him—eyes wide, searching his face like she was trying to find the lie.
She swallowed once.
"…Okay."
Naruto gave her a small nod—almost gentle—then looked at Kakashi and Yamato.
"I'll see you lot later," he said simply.
Before either could respond, he vanished—so fast he left only a swirl of displaced snow and the faint of air rushing to fill the space where he'd been.
Karin blinked at the empty spot.
Kakashi tilted his head slightly, eye crinkling above his mask.
"Always dramatic."
Yamato sighed.
"Always."
They turned toward the tower—Karin walking between them.
' I've only been here briefly during the exam. I never got to see the place properly' she thought.
...
He appeared in his room in a swirl of displaced air.
Naruto sighed loudly—long, tired, the kind of exhale that carried the weight of everything he'd just done—and plopped backward onto his bed.
The mattress creaked under him; the black jacket bunched up around his shoulders, hood flopping over his face for a second before he shoved it back.
'Man, the war is already here,' he thought, staring up at the familiar cracks in the ceiling. 'Luckily it doesn't necessarily last that long. It's just the anime dragged it with unnecessary filler.'
He folded his arms behind his head, eyes half-lidded. His mind raced—strategies, timelines, who he needed to see, what he needed to do. Then it snagged on something he'd been putting off.
Kurama.
'Well, I know now,' he thought. 'They'll probably want me to go to that Turtle Island and meet Killer Bee. Which I'm against—it's just that I have some business to handle before that.'
He closed his eyes for a second, feeling the fox's chakra coiled deep inside—quiet, watchful, not yet free but no longer a prisoner either.
....
At the Hokage Tower.
Tsunade strode through the main doors, cloak snapping behind her like a flag in the wind. Her heels clicked sharply on the polished floor—each step echoing authority. She pushed open her office door without breaking stride.
And froze.
Koharu Utatane and Homura Mitokado stood inside—waiting like they owned the place. Koharu's arms were folded, face pinched in that perpetual look of disapproval. Homura adjusted his glasses, expression grave.
Tsunade stood at the doorway, annoyed flickering into outright irritation.
"What?" she asked, voice flat. "You want to complain again?"
She stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind her with a soft *thud*.
"I need to use the office for something important," she continued, moving toward her desk. "So if you don't mind leaving."
Homura spoke first—calm, measured, but heavy.
"Danzo has been killed."
Tsunade froze mid-step—behind her desk now, one hand still on the back of her chair. Her eyes flicked between them. Their solemn expressions told her everything: no bluff, no exaggeration.
"When did this happen?" she asked, concern sharpening her tone. "Was it an Akatsuki member?"
Koharu answered, voice steady.
"We do not know. We found his body yesterday morning. But it looked like he was dead for at least a full day. We tried to decipher his last memories, but he had a powerful seal in his head preventing us from doing that."
Tsunade sighed—long, slow, rubbing her temple with two fingers.
"Have you all buried him yet?"
"No," Homura said. "He's a village legend. He should have a burial equal to one of a Kage. And me and the council have voted that. We want a statue built of him."
'These old farts have lost their damn minds,' Tsunade thought.
She planted both hands on her desk, leaning forward.
"Listen. We are at the brink of a war. The Akatsuki might attack at any moment from now and try to kill us. And you think we have time to deal with that dead fart? Get the hell out of my office. I need to work!"
They stood there—staring at her coldly, unmoving.
Homura opened his mouth.
"War? You know nothing about war. Let us be in ch—"
Tsunade wasted no time.
She rounded the desk in two strides, grabbed Koharu by the collar with one hand and Homura by the back of his robe with the other, and hurled them both out the door like sacks of rice.
They stumbled into the hallway—Koharu catching herself on the wall, Homura staggering into Shizune, who'd just rounded the corner with a stack of scrolls.
Tsunade slammed the door shut—hard enough that the frame rattled.
Shizune stood there awkwardly, scrolls clutched to her chest, elders blinking up at her from the floor.
'I hate this job,' she thought.
Tsunade locked the door with a sharp *click*, then exhaled—long and slow—leaning her forehead against the wood for a second.
Then she straightened.
She had work to do.
TO BE CONTINUED