The retreat to Tazuna's weathered home felt like stepping into a fragile sanctuary. The old house, nestled against the rugged coastline, bore the wear of time and hardship. The salty sea breeze seeped through cracks in the wood, carrying with it the faint cries of gulls and the rhythmic lapping of waves below. Inside, the air was tense, heavy with unspoken thoughts and lingering exhaustion.
Naruto and Sasuke rested in one room, their injuries requiring time and care to heal. Sakura lingered nearby, her worry etched into her features as she kept watch over her teammates.
In the main room, Kakashi and Sayuri sat across from each other, the atmosphere between them both tense and contemplative. Kakashi rested his elbows on the low wooden table, his mask obscuring his expression, though his visible eye remained fixed on her.
Sayuri broke the silence first. "You're wondering why they sent me."
Kakashi tilted his head slightly. "It crossed my mind. But now that I've seen you in action, I understand."
Sayuri's gaze didn't waver. "The Hokage knew what was at stake. You're skilled, Kakashi, but you were outnumbered and burdened with protecting three genin and a civilian. The risk was too high."
Kakashi exhaled softly, his tone laced with curiosity. "I've heard of you. The Third spoke of you once. So did Minato-sensei. They called you the best kunoichi in Konoha, but you've stayed out of the spotlight."
Sayuri's lips curved into a faint, almost bitter smile. "Shadows are where I'm most effective."
Kakashi leaned back slightly, his visible eye narrowing. "Zabuza wasn't your equal. You could have killed him."
"I could have," Sayuri admitted, her tone even. "But Zabuza wasn't the only threat on that bridge. Whoever took him will return, and they'll bring reinforcements. Eliminating him then and there wouldn't have guaranteed your team's safety."
Sayuri stood, her movements fluid as she adjusted the scarf draped over her shoulders. "I think about what's necessary. That's the difference."
She turned toward the door, her emerald eyes glinting with resolve. "Rest while you can, Kakashi. This isn't over."
Kakashi watched her leave, his thoughts a swirl of admiration and curiosity.
—
The wind carried the distant calls of seabirds and the faint lapping of waves against the stone pillars below. The unfinished bridge stretched into the horizon like a promise that hadn't yet been fulfilled, its skeletal frame bathed in the dim orange glow of the setting sun.
Naruto sat against the cold stone, his back pressed to one of the larger support beams. His right sleeve hung limply at his side, fluttering in the breeze. The once-familiar weight of his hand was gone, replaced by an ache so deep it reached into his chest. His cerulean eyes were fixed on the horizon, but they seemed unfocused, as if he were looking beyond the edge of the world itself.
Nearby, Sakura knelt, fumbling with the medical supplies in her pouch. Her fingers hovered over the bandages and salves, but her movements were hesitant, unsure. She looked at Naruto and hesitated, her throat tightening. His expression—the determined, unwavering mask he wore—only made the lump in her chest grow heavier.
"I'm sorry, Naruto," she whispered, barely audible over the rustling wind. Her voice trembled as she finally found the courage to meet his gaze. Tears pooled in her eyes. "This… this shouldn't have happened. I—"
"Don't," Naruto interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. His gaze turned to her, a flicker of determination cutting through the haze of pain. "Sakura… it's okay. You're here. That's what matters."
Her shoulders trembled, and a tear slid down her cheek as she looked away, biting her lip to stifle the sob that threatened to escape. Slowly, she reached forward and began cleaning the wound on his stump. Her touch was careful, but her hands still shook.
"You shouldn't have had to do this," she murmured, her voice barely holding steady.
Naruto flinched as she tightened the makeshift bandage, but the faint smile lingered. "I don't regret it," he said, his voice quieter now, as if speaking more to himself than to her. "Not for a second. If it happened again, I'd do the same thing."
Sakura paused, her hand hovering over his arm. She looked at him, her tears spilling freely now. "Why?" she asked, her voice a whisper. "Why would you—"
"Because I couldn't let you get hurt," Naruto said simply, his eyes meeting hers with a quiet honesty that struck her to the core. "You're my teammate… my friend."
The words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity. Sakura's shoulders shook as she cried, her guilt and gratitude mixing in a torrent of emotion.
The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the bridge. Naruto's expression shifted slightly as he stared at the horizon, his mind replaying the battle. The moment Zabuza's blade had swung toward Sakura, his body had moved on instinct. He hadn't hesitated, hadn't thought about the consequences.
And now, the price of that instinct stared back at him—his missing hand, the phantom ache that refused to fade, the faint sting of the bandages Sakura had wrapped around his arm.
"Naruto," Sakura said softly, her voice breaking his thoughts.
He turned to her, his trademark grin weak but sincere. "Don't look so sad, Sakura-chan. I'm still here."
Sakura stared at him, her tears slowing as she absorbed his words.
—
The early morning mist blanketed the Land of Waves in a soft, melancholic haze, the sun's rays struggling to pierce through the gray shroud. Each step felt heavier than the last for Team 2 as they approached Tazuna's modest home. Dew clung to the foliage, and the damp earth softened their footfalls, masking their approach. Yet, their exhaustion was palpable—three days of relentless travel marked by tension and vigilance had taken its toll.
Tomaru's sharp eyes swept the area, his senses finely attuned to the stillness around them. The kunai pouch strapped to his side felt heavier than usual, a reminder of the constant threat that loomed over their mission. His gaze flicked to Mai, whose usual boldness had dimmed, her steps dragging slightly. Mina, ever composed, adjusted her glasses as she kept pace, her quiet determination evident despite the fatigue that lined her features.
The wooden house emerged from the mist, its weathered structure standing resilient against the elements. Sayuri stood on the porch, leaning casually against the railing with her arms crossed. Her emerald eyes caught theirs instantly, glinting with a mixture of relief and unreadable calculation. Though her posture was relaxed, her presence radiated a quiet intensity, as if she were both welcoming them and gauging their condition.
"You're late," she said, her voice even but without reproach.
Mai let out an exaggerated groan, throwing her arms up. "Sensei, we've been running non-stop! Seriously, my feet feel like they're going to fall off."
Mina, ever the steady counterpart, spoke with measured calmness. "We did our best to get here as quickly as possible."
A faint smile tugged at Sayuri's lips, a rare display of warmth. "You did well. Get inside and rest. You'll need your strength."
Mai and Mina complied, stepping past her into the house, but Tomaru lingered. His gaze fixed on Sayuri, sharp and questioning. "What happened?" His voice was quiet, yet it carried a weight that stilled the air around them.
Sayuri's faint smile faded, replaced by a more somber expression. Her eyes briefly flicked toward the door before she responded. "See for yourself," she said, her tone measured but serious.
Tomaru stepped inside, the faint creak of the wooden floor underfoot the only sound as he moved with deliberate caution. The house felt smaller on the inside, its walls closing in under the weight of unspoken tension. The low murmur of voices led him to the living area, where the scene before him brought him to an abrupt stop.
Naruto sat cross-legged on the floor, his back against the wall, his trademark grin lighting up his face despite the sheer exhaustion etched into his features. Beside him, Sakura knelt, her hands nervously fidgeting with the edges of her sleeves. The bandages wrapped tightly around Naruto's right arm ended abruptly where his hand should have been, the stark absence a visceral punch to the gut.
Naruto's grin widened as he noticed Team 2. "Hey, you made it!" he called, his voice as vibrant as ever, though tinged with fatigue.
Tomaru's chest tightened as he took in the sight. His first thought was disbelief, his mind struggling to reconcile the image before him. This shouldn't have happened. Not yet. Not like this.
"What… happened?" he asked, his voice low and steady, though disbelief cracked through its edges.
Naruto scratched the back of his head with his remaining hand, his grin faltering slightly. "Oh, this?" he said, gesturing toward the bandaged stump. "It's no big deal. Just lost it protecting Sakura. That's what teammates do, right?"
The casualness of Naruto's tone hit Tomaru like a blow. Protecting Sakura? The words echoed in his mind, bitter and sharp. He's supposed to lose his arm in the final battle against Sasuke—an iconic moment at the end of their journey.
But this? This was too soon. Too wrong.
"What… happened?" Tomaru asked, his voice quiet but laced with disbelief.
The timeline he knew was crumbling, slipping through his grasp.
Sakura's voice broke through his spiraling thoughts, soft and guilt-ridden. "It's my fault," she said, her voice cracking as tears welled up in her eyes. "If I hadn't frozen, Naruto wouldn't have—" She bit her lip and looked away, her hands trembling.
Naruto shook his head, his voice firm despite the pain that dulled its edges. "No way, Sakura! Don't say that. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. You're my teammate. That's all that matters."
Tomaru's fists clenched at his sides as he forced himself to look away, his jaw tightening. Naruto's unwavering determination was both inspiring and infuriating. Does he even realize what he's lost? How much this changes?
Sayuri's voice cut through the heavy atmosphere like a blade, calm and steady. She had entered the room silently, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. "This is the reality of the shinobi world," she said, her tone devoid of comfort yet not unkind. "You'll face choices like this again. Sacrifices are inevitable, but it's how you move forward that defines you."
Naruto nodded, his cerulean eyes blazing with resolve despite the ache in his body. "I get it, Sensei," he said, his voice steady. "I'll get stronger. I won't let this stop me."
Stronger. The word echoed in Tomaru's mind like a taunt. Without his right hand, Naruto's ability to form hand seals was severely compromised. The Kage Bunshin technique—the cornerstone of his growth—was out of reach. How could he ever hope to fulfill the potential Tomaru knew he had? How could he face the challenges yet to come?
As the others began to speak, Tomaru's thoughts remained locked on the future. The path ahead, once so clear in his mind, was now shrouded in uncertainty. The loss of Naruto's hand wasn't just a setback; it was a fracture in the foundation of everything he thought he knew. This wasn't just a shift—it was a cascade, threatening to unravel everything.
—
The days that followed were slow and quiet. Too quiet.
At mealtimes, Naruto would sit with the others, grinning and laughing like he always had. He teased Tazuna about his stubbornness and Kakashi about his terrible jokes. He even tried to get Sakura to lighten up, poking fun at how long she took to braid her hair.
But his plate stayed mostly untouched. Where once he would have gone for seconds—or even thirds—his bowl of rice often sat half-eaten. His chopsticks would slip from his fingers, and he'd set them down with an awkward laugh, excusing himself before anyone could press him.
After dinner, while the others lingered, he would slip away. "I'm tired," he'd say with his trademark grin, the light in his eyes dimmer than it should have been.
Upstairs, behind the closed door of his room, Naruto sat in silence. The blanket on the bed remained untouched most nights; instead, he'd lean against the wall, staring at his bandaged stump until the first light of dawn.
The forest became his refuge. When he wasn't in his room, he was wandering the woods alone, his footsteps slow and aimless. Sakura had tried to follow him once, calling his name as he disappeared between the trees.
"Don't worry, Sakura-chan!" he'd called over his shoulder, his voice too light, too casual. "I'm just getting some air."
She hesitated, watching as his figure vanished into the shadows of the forest.
By the third day, even Tazuna had noticed. "The blonde kid's been awfully quiet," he remarked as they cleared the table after lunch. "Figured he'd be bouncing off the walls by now."
Kakashi didn't respond. His single visible eye lingered on Naruto's empty chair, a faint crease forming on his brow.
Naruto kept smiling in front of them, kept cracking jokes, kept acting like nothing had changed. But every time the laughter faded, his face would slip back into that blank, quiet stillness.
Tomaru had noticed it immediately. At first, he gave Naruto space, understanding that everyone needed time to process such a life-altering event. But after days of silence, Tomaru's patience ran thin. The shinobi world didn't wait for anyone, and wallowing in despair wasn't a luxury they could afford.
Tomaru found Naruto sitting by the riverbank, his lone hand idly skimming the surface of the water.