When Shūen finally struck, it was brutal and precise.
They targeted supply lines, isolated border towns, and key advisors. Naruto responded with calculated force—not reckless, not reactive. Sakura coordinated medical and counterintelligence divisions with ruthless efficiency.
They fought side by side again, older now, sharper.
After the final skirmish, bloodied but victorious, they returned to the Hokage residence in exhausted silence.
It was Sakura who broke it.
She pushed Naruto gently down onto the bed, hands firm, eyes dark with adrenaline and relief. "You scared me," she said softly.
"I came back," he replied.
She leaned down, kissing him deeply—everything unsaid pouring into the space between them. The night unfolded slowly, deliberately, marked by whispered reassurances and the quiet intensity of two people who had faced death too many times to waste time pretending.
Outside, the village slept safely.
Inside, they reminded each other why that safety mattered.