[Coastline — Early Morning — Border of the Land of Fire]
The long march had stolen the night.
Now pale light bled slowly into the fog, as Naruto and Team 10 reached the easternmost edge of the Land of Fire.
Forest thinned and broke away, giving to harsh stone and wet sand — a coastline rough and jagged, where the sea's breath rolled thick across the earth.
Mist had risen with the dawn — not a gentle veil, but a heavy, cold shroud spilling from the distant Land of Water.
It moved like a living thing.
A shinobi's instinct whispered caution.
Asuma Sarutobi stood a few paces ahead, cigarette glowing faint beneath the gray sky. He crouched, one hand pressed lightly to the cold, damp ground.
"This is it," he said, voice calm and low."Beyond this sea lies the Land of Waves."
Behind him, Team 10 gathered — slower now, steps dragging just faintly.
It had been a hard push — a full day's march, no pause, pressed fast beneath their sensei's orders.
Even shinobi blood had limits.
Shikako Nara stood with arms crossed, head tilted as she drew slow breaths to steady her pulse — a faint sheen of sweat at her brow.Ino Yamanaka adjusted her straps, jaw set tight.Chōji Akimichi shifted his weight, shoulders rolling to ease the dull ache that had crept in during the final kilometers.
But ahead — Asuma showed little more than a loosened breath, his bearing calm.
And beside him, Naruto stood nearly untouched — cloak trailing still, movements light. His gaze cut through the mist as if it barely registered.
A flicker of observation crossed Shikako's weary mind:
He's not even winded?
She watched him from beneath her lashes — not the loud boy of the Academy now.
After all that... even Asuma-sensei looks more winded than he does.
But no words came.
A Nara's mind could become obsessively tangled when a puzzle refused to yield — and Naruto Uzumaki had become exactly that.
A figure of sharp contradictions:
Raiga's killer.Envoy Mission at Sogen Pass.Her own unlikely savior in Morimi Valley.And now here — silent, unreadable, still moving like a seasoned operative after an exhausting march.
Shikako frowned slightly.
No one changes this fast.
Yet the logic refused to settle. Something deeper stirred beneath it — unspoken, unnoticed. She ignored it.
For now.
Ahead, Asuma rose, gaze scanning the mist-veiled shore.
"We'll need a boat," he said. "A small one — fast and quiet."
The sea below lapped against unseen rocks — its voice muffled by the fog. Even the nearest waves seemed distant, fading into pale nothingness.
Naruto's eyes narrowed slightly.
Mist this thick was no idle weather.
It was cover — for allies and enemies both.
Asuma spoke again, voice clipped.
"There's a village — small fishing hamlet tucked against the cliffs. They'll have what we need."
He looked back at his team — gaze steady.
[Fisherman's Wharf — Mist-Choked Shore]
The fishing hamlet lay crouched against the cliffs, half-swallowed by sea-mist.
Old boats rocked gently in the tide, ropes creaking, nets heavy with salt.
Few dared to fish this morning.
Word of Gatō's wrath spread faster than the fog.
But coin still moved stubborn hearts.
It was Asuma's voice, low and persuasive — backed by a subtle show of shinobi steel — that secured them passage.
An old boatman, face lined like worn driftwood, agreed with a single nod.
No words wasted.
Within moments, they boarded — a narrow craft, aged but sound.
Naruto took the bow — eyes never leaving the shifting wall of white ahead.
Team 10 sat near the center — still weary, but sharpened now by the tension in the air.
Asuma stood near the tiller, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his trench knife.
The boat slid free — a ghost upon the mist-veiled waters.
[Land of Waves — Shoreline Arrival]
Wooden posts jutted from the water — old markers of a half-forgotten dock.
The boatman guided them with practiced ease.
Asuma gave a short nod. "We walk from here."
Boots met wet wood, then packed earth.
The Land of Waves lay before them — its mist-bound forests close and dark.
No guards. No patrols.
Only fear hung thick in the air.
Villagers watched from shuttered windows — eyes wary, hope buried deep.
Asuma's voice dropped low. "No friendly ground from here on. Stay sharp."
Naruto fell into step beside him — a quiet shadow.
Team 10 followed, lighter now despite the long march.
The path twisted through tangled woods — narrow, slick with dew.
Minutes passed. No traps, no pursuers.
Yet the air felt heavier with every step.
At last — a small clearing.
A worn house stood ahead — battered but standing.
Tazuna's home.
[Land of Waves — Tazuna's House ]
The mist thinned little as they approached the village's outer edge.
Boots soft on damp earth.
Breath visible in the air.
Asuma led — a steady, unhurried pace.
Team 10, though worn from the march, kept formation.
Naruto strode behind Asuma, steps light, gaze calm.
His body showed little wear — cloak trailing faint behind him.
The others are tired, he noted. Expected.
They reached the old wooden house — walls weathered, shutters drawn.
A faint light within. No sound of combat.
Asuma's knuckles rapped twice, sharp and measured.
From inside — a shuffle of movement. A faint thud.
Then the door creaked open.
Kakashi Hatake stood in the frame — visible fatigue in his lone exposed eye.
Beneath the mask, voice calm but lined with wear:
"Asuma. Good timing."
The door opened wider.
Inside — a small living room, sparse but warm.
Tazuna, weary but alive, offered a nod of gratitude.
Sasuke Uchiha sat near the far wall, posture tense, eyes watching all.
His gaze flicked briefly to Naruto — a narrowing of eyes. Measuring.
Sakura Haruno knelt beside a small table idly glancing at sasuke on occasion.
By the window stood Sai — still, expression unreadable, sketchbook in hand.
Only his pale skin and ink-stained fingers marked his presence.
Asuma's gaze swept the room.
"You're holding together well."
Kakashi gave a tired chuckle. "Barely. Zabuza forced my hand."
Naruto caught it — the faint edge beneath Kakashi's voice.
He used the Sharingan. Pushed hard.
The signs were clear — slight slump to his shoulders, faint pallor beneath the mask.
Mild chakra exhaustion. Dangerous if pressed again too soon.
Asuma exhaled slowly. "We'll take pressure off. My team's fresh."
Shikako, Ino, and Chōji filed in behind Naruto — silent, eyes scanning the room.
Even tired, they read the tension in the air.
Shikako's gaze lingered a moment on Naruto's back — curiosity flickering beneath calculating calm.
But her words stayed behind her teeth.
Kakashi's eye rested on the newcomers.
"Glad to have the reinforcements. The next fight won't wait long."
Asuma crossed his arms, voice even. "Brief us. Everything."
Kakashi nodded.
"Zabuza is injured — for now. But he'll return soon. And his partner… is dangerous."
The Jōnin's eye darkened faintly.
"Ice techniques. Precision strikes. Unnatural speed."
Naruto's mind shifted gears — remembering the Hokage's words.
Mist, ice, and silence.
His fingers twitched slightly — an echo of thought.
This will take more than blades.
[Land of Waves — Tazuna's House -Late Morning]
Inside the small wooden house, warmth battled the creeping chill of mist that seeped through every crack.
Tsunami, quiet and efficient, moved through the room — laying out spare blankets, setting tea before weary hands.
Team 10 settled in gratefully.
Chōji slumped near the table with a sigh, grateful for warmth and food.Ino carefully unpacked her supplies, her gaze occasionally drifting toward Sasuke, seated cool and aloof near the window.Shikako stood by the far corner, arms folded, sharp eyes watching all — silent, thoughtful.
Across from them — Team 7.
Kakashi leaned against the wall, mild exhaustion behind his lone eye.Sasuke sat upright, gaze cool.Sakura watched him openly, seeking his approval.Sai, quiet as ever, sketched faint lines in a small notebook.
Naruto stood apart — arms relaxed, gaze steady — his presence far different from the boy they remembered.
As Tsunami laid a cup near him, he offered a polite nod, but his thoughts had already moved on.
Too many unknowns here. Zabuza will strike again. The village itself is exposed.
Kakashi finished his report to Asuma in low tones.
"… expect Zabuza's return within a day or two. His partner is… unconventional."
Asuma nodded once.
"Understood."
A brief silence fell.
Then Naruto spoke — voice level, calm, cutting through the room.
"I propose to scout the village."
Heads turned.
All eyes settled on him.
Sasuke snapped up first — voice cutting.
"Tch. You?"
He stood partway, arms crossed.
"You were dead last in the Academy. You think scouting a foreign village during an A-class threat is something you can handle?"
Disdain colored every word.
Sakura, sitting nearby, chimed in quickly — eyes flashing.
"Sasuke-kun's right. It's dangerous — reckless, really."
Ino, seated beside her, straightened slightly — quick to mirror her rival in this, voice eager:
"Exactly! You could get caught — or worse, make things worse for the rest of us."
Her glance darted toward Sasuke — unconsciously, but not unnoticed.
Across the room, Kakashi spoke, tone even but firm:
"It is dangerous, Naruto. Zabuza's companion is skilled — the mist favors them. For your level, solo scouting is a risk I recommend."
Naruto met their combined resistance without flinching.
"I understand the risk. I'm not asking permission to fight — only to observe."
He looked toward Asuma, gaze steady.
"Someone needs to know what moves through the streets before they strike."
Silence.
Asuma watched him — arms crossed, cigarette burning low between his fingers.
Not the same loudmouth brat from the Academy.No bravado. No foolish grin. Calm, calculated.
The shift in Naruto's presence was undeniable.
Asuma exhaled a thin stream of smoke — voice carrying quiet authority:
"I approve."
Sasuke scowled but said nothing, jaw tight.
Sakura looked toward Kakashi for support — but the older Jōnin gave no further protest.
Ino blinked in surprise — caught between lingering doubt and a flicker of curiosity.
Shikako, from her quiet post near the corner, simply watched — her gaze narrowing faintly.
He's become difficult to predict.
Naruto inclined his head once — simple acknowledgment.
Without another word, he turned and moved — soft steps fading down the hallway.
The mist awaited.
And so did the truth of this village.