“My feet are killing me, seriously. Are you sure this is the shortest path, Kakashi-sensei? I feel like we’ve been walking since I was a baby.”

Naruto’s voice echoed in the silent forest, a complaint so dramatic it sent a pair of birds flying from a nearby tree. They had been traveling for two days. Two days of dirt under their nails, soldier rations that tasted like cardboard, and the ground as their only bed. For Naruto, whose concept of a long journey was the trip from his apartment to Ichiraku Ramen, this was torture of epic proportions.

Sakura, walking a few steps ahead of him, turned around with a vein pulsing on her forehead.

“Can you stop complaining for five minutes, Naruto? You’ve been saying the same thing since we left the village. You’re going to use up all the air in the forest.”

“But it’s true! My sandals already have holes in them! And my legs feel like soggy noodles! Soggy, sad noodles!”

Kiba, covering the right flank, let out a laugh. On his head, Akamaru barked in agreement.

“Didn’t know noodles could be sad, Naruto. But if anyone was going to figure it out, it had to be you.”

“Don’t mock my suffering, Kiba! You have Akamaru to keep you warm at night. I just have rocks digging into my back!”

Kakashi Hatake, leading the march with his usual air of calculated laziness, spoke without even turning around, his voice monotonous but clear.

“Technically, Naruto, you’re still pretty much a baby. And yes, this is the shortest path. We can take the scenic route if you want. It goes through some beautiful mountains and a couple of valleys with waterfalls. It would only take us an extra week.”

“No, thanks! I take it back! I love walking! Walking is my passion!” Naruto replied instantly, a genuine panic in his voice that made Kurenai smile.

The group moved at a steady pace, a diverse formation making its way through the forests of the Land of Fire. After the first day of stumbles and disorganization, they had settled into an efficient traveling formation that maximized their safety. Kakashi and Kurenai set the pace at the vanguard, their jōnin senses constantly scanning the surroundings. Sasuke and Kiba covered the flanks like two guard dogs. Their personalities created a strange symmetry: the silent, lurking threat of Sasuke on the left, and the loud and territorial presence of Kiba on the right.

Shino moved like a shadow in the rear, a position he had chosen himself. His kikaichū insects formed a nearly imperceptible reconnaissance network that stretched for dozens of meters around him, a silent alarm against any possible ambush. And in the center, forming a protective core around an increasingly grumpy Tazuna, were Naruto, Sakura, and Hinata.

“Bah, all this hurry for nothing,” Tazuna grumbled for the tenth time in the last hour, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of a calloused hand. “All this walking and not a single problem. Where are all those bandits they warned me so much about in the village? This is quieter than a library on a holiday.”

He paused to take a long swig from a flask he kept on his belt, earning a disapproving look from Sakura.

“See? I told you it would be a simple trip. Hired eight of Konoha’s best ninja for a quiet stroll through the countryside. Best money I’ve ever spent.”

Kakashi simply gave an eye-smile, a gesture that could mean anything. Kurenai, walking beside him, shot her fellow jōnin an amused look.

“Your client is… optimistic.”

“That’s a euphemism for ‘drunk and loud,'” Kakashi replied in a low voice, making sure no one else could hear. “But he’s right about one thing. The road has been too quiet.”

Kurenai nodded, her expression turning serious. “Too quiet. We haven’t even passed other travelers, let alone village patrols. It’s like the road was swept clean for us.”

“Exactly. I don’t like it,” Kakashi concluded. The carefree air hadn’t left his posture, but his senses were on high alert.

As the jōnin spoke, Kiba, on the right flank, frowned. Akamaru, who until now had been comfortably perched on his head, let out a low, pitiful whine. The small puppy’s fur stood on end, his white coat bristling. He sniffed the air, his little whiskers trembling visibly.

“Easy, boy,” Kiba whispered, gently scratching behind his ears to calm him. “What is it? Smell a squirrel or something?”

Akamaru whimpered again, a note of genuine anxiety in the sound. He tried to hide deeper in the collar of his partner’s jacket, trembling slightly. Kiba felt it but dismissed it with a sigh.

“Come on, Akamaru, it’s nothing. You’re probably just nervous being so far from home. It’s our first mission outside the country, after all. Relax.”

The puppy did not relax. He burrowed even deeper, letting out an almost inaudible whine. Kiba chose to ignore it. Akamaru was brave, but he was still a puppy. A strange animal or an unfamiliar scent could have spooked him.

They took a break at noon by a crystal-clear stream that snaked through the forest. The sound of running water and the fresh scent of damp vegetation were a welcome relief after the monotonous walking. While the others refilled their canteens and sat down to eat their rations, Naruto, unable to stay still for more than thirty seconds, found a handful of perfectly flat stones and began skipping them across the water’s surface.

“Three skips! New record!” he shouted, though the only one who seemed to pay him any mind was Hinata, who watched him with a small, shy smile.

Sakura and Hinata had sat together on a large, moss-covered rock, sharing a food ration and speaking in low voices. Kurenai watched her team with a satisfied smile, noticing how Hinata seemed more comfortable and open than ever. Kakashi, of course, had already found the most comfortable tree in the clearing, leaned back against its trunk, and was completely absorbed in his orange-covered book.

Only Sasuke was not resting. A few meters away from the group, he methodically practiced his kunai throws against the trunk of an old oak tree. Each throw produced a sharp, precise impact. There were no unnecessary movements in his stance, not an ounce of wasted energy. The pattern his kunai formed in the bark was incredibly tight, a nearly perfect circle no more than a few inches in diameter.

Naruto watched the scene from the stream’s edge, a flat stone in his hand. His first instinct was the old, familiar pang of rivalry. “I have to show him I’m cool too. Maybe if I make a stone skip five times…” But that feeling was replaced by something else, something that had been growing in him for the past few days: a hint of grudging respect. Sasuke was an arrogant jerk, yes, but he was an incredibly skilled, arrogant jerk.

He dropped the stone and walked toward him, his usual trail of noise curiously absent.

“Hey, Sasuke,” he said. His voice was surprisingly calm, devoid of its usual defiant tone.

The Uchiha didn’t react. He threw another kunai. A sharp impact, right next to the previous one.

Naruto cleared his throat, feeling a bit awkward. “That’s amazing. Seriously. Your aim is perfect.”

Sasuke paused, a kunai half-raised in his hand. The compliment, so unexpected and genuine, caught him completely off guard. He stood motionless for a second, processing the words. Naruto… praising him? It was illogical. It was irritating. It didn’t fit his worldview.

Naruto, seeing he had finally gotten his attention, felt himself return to familiar ground: competition. A huge, challenging grin spread across his face.

“But I bet you can’t hit that leaf that’s about to fall from that branch over there!”

He pointed to a single yellow leaf trembling precariously at the tip of a high branch, about twenty meters away and at a difficult angle. It was a nearly impossible target: small, moving, and partially obscured by other branches.

Sasuke glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, his expression a mask of cold indifference. Slowly, he turned, showing him his back completely, as if Naruto’s suggestion was so ridiculous it didn’t even deserve a response.

Naruto sighed, disappointment mixed with frustration. “Arrogant jerk. Same as always.”

Just as Naruto turned to find another stone and resume his solitary competition, he heard a sharp, cutting whistle.

Sasuke’s kunai spun through the air, a silver blur against the green of the forest. Its trajectory was perfect. The weapon’s tip pierced the yellow leaf and pinned it cleanly against the tree trunk. The leaf trembled for an instant from the force of the impact before becoming still, perfectly centered by the weapon.

Naruto’s jaw dropped. Kiba, who had been watching, whistled under his breath.

There was no victory cry from Sasuke. No smug look. He simply remained with his back to them, collecting his other kunai from the oak as if nothing extraordinary had happened. But the message was crystal clear, louder than any words he could have spoken: “Don’t underestimate me.” And, for the first time, Naruto understood it not as an insult, but as a strange form of communication between them.

“Whoa,” Naruto thought, a grin of pure astonishment forming on his face. “So cool… and such a jerk.”

When they resumed their march, the formation changed slightly. Kakashi, noticing Naruto’s restless energy, gave him a task.

“Naruto, go to the rear and give Kurenai a report on the ration status. And be discreet.”

“Got it, sensei!” Naruto exclaimed, thrilled to have something to do. He trotted to the back of the group, where the red-eyed sensei walked with a quiet grace.

“Kurenai-sensei!” he said in a whisper loud enough for Tazuna to hear. “Top-secret mission report! Kakashi-sensei says we have enough food for three days if we ration it, that Sasuke is a show-off, but don’t tell him I said that, and that my feet still hurt!”

Kurenai covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, a soft, melodic sound that surprised Naruto. He hadn’t heard her laugh before.

“Understood, Naruto. Report mission accomplished. Thank you.”

Naruto, instead of returning to the center, stayed by her side, his curiosity finally winning the battle against any hint of shyness.

“Hey, Kurenai-sensei! Your specialty is genjutsu, right? That’s so cool! I’ve heard it’s super hard. Is it true you can trap people in their own minds? Could you make an enemy see a million bowls of ramen raining from the sky so they’d surrender from hunger? ‘Cause that would be the best jutsu ever!”

His enthusiasm was so pure and so absurdly specific that Kurenai couldn’t help but smile openly.

“I’m afraid genjutsu is a bit more subtle than that, Naruto. It’s not about creating things from nothing, but about controlling the flow of chakra in an opponent’s nervous system to manipulate their five senses. It’s creating illusions they believe are real. It requires incredibly precise chakra control.”

“Oh, control!” he said, as if he’d just had a revelation. “Like Sakura-chan! She has the best chakra control out of all of us! And Hinata is super fast and flexible with her Gentle Fist style! It’s awesome, right, sensei?! I always told her she’d get super strong!”

The way he spoke of his teammates, with such genuine and selfless pride, moved Kurenai. There was no jealousy in his voice, only pure admiration for his friends.

“She is,” she said, her gaze growing warmer as she watched Hinata walk ahead. “And it seems you’ve been a very good influence on her, Naruto. She’s told me you’ve helped her a lot in finding her confidence. You’re a good friend.”

The praise, coming from another jōnin who wasn’t his sensei, made Naruto blush to the tips of his ears. He scratched the back of his neck, suddenly shy and at a loss for words.

“Well… she’s easy to root for. She’s a good person and she tries really hard. Anyone can see that.”

“That’s an important quality in a shinobi,” Kurenai said seriously. “To see the value in your comrades and support them. It’s something many forget in their pursuit of power. Don’t lose that, Naruto.”

They walked in silence for a moment, a new, comfortable respect forming between the loud jinchūriki and the master of illusions. Naruto felt like he had passed some kind of test he didn’t know he was taking.

As the afternoon wore on, the path led them into a denser, damper forest. The trees were taller, their canopies forming a ceiling that blocked much of the sunlight. A low bank of fog began to snake between the trunks, a product of a nearby river whose murmur was becoming increasingly audible. The formation had instinctively tightened, and Sakura and Hinata ended up walking next to each other, slightly apart from the rest.

“Kiba is… exhausting,” Sakura said quietly, with a tired but amused smile. “He never stops talking. How do you put up with him all day on the same team?”

“Y-you get used to it,” Hinata replied, a hint of her old stutter appearing now that she was more relaxed. “He’s… very loyal. And Akamaru is very cute.”

“I guess so. Sasuke is the complete opposite. It’s like walking next to an angry iceberg. Sometimes I think if I talk to him, my words will freeze in the air and shatter on the ground.” Sakura sighed. “I admire him a lot, but he’s so… distant.”

Hinata looked at her with an empathy Sakura hadn’t expected.

“Sasuke-san… he seems to carry a great pain. I see it in his eyes when he thinks no one is looking. Maybe… maybe the silence is his way of protecting himself. Like a wall so no one else can hurt him.”

Hinata’s perspective, so simple and so profound, made Sakura pause and think. She had always seen Sasuke’s silence as arrogance or coldness, but never as a defense.

“You might be right. I’d never looked at it that way.”

“Naruto-kun seems to be getting along with you well now, Sakura-san,” Hinata said shyly, changing the subject to one that clearly interested her more.

Sakura let out a huff that quickly turned into a sigh, a small cloud of vapor forming in the increasingly cold air.

“He’s an idiot. A complete and total idiot. But… I guess he’s not a bad idiot. He’s… persistent. And he has more energy than the entire rest of the village combined. He never gives up, even when he should. To be honest,” she admitted in an even lower voice, “the team would be a lot more boring without him. Probably a lot quieter, too.”

Hinata smiled, a happy, obvious blush coloring her cheeks.

“He… he has a very warm heart. He always tries to cheer others up, even when he’s having a hard time himself.”

Just as Sakura was about to reply, their conversation was cut short. Akamaru, who had been whimpering quietly for the last hour, began to shake violently. The puppy let out a sharp howl, a sound of pure panic, and desperately buried himself inside Kiba’s jacket, clawing at the fabric.

“THAT’S ENOUGH, AKAMARU!” Kiba yelled, stopping in his tracks and trying to soothe his partner, who wasn’t responding to his touch. “What the hell is wrong with you?! I’ve never seen you like this! It’s like you’ve seen a ghost!”

But it wasn’t just the dog. Suddenly, everyone noticed it. The entire forest had fallen deathly silent. The murmur of the river seemed to have vanished. The chirping of birds, the buzzing of insects, the crunching of leaves under their feet… everything had stopped. It was an unnatural silence, heavy and oppressive.

The fog, which had been a harmless low layer crawling along the ground, was now rising, swirling and thickening with a speed that defied logic. In a matter of seconds, it went from a mist to an opaque white wall that completely enveloped them, reducing visibility to just a few feet. The temperature plummeted, and the air became damp and icy.

“HALT!”

Kakashi’s voice was like the crack of a whip, cutting through the silence and confusion. There was no trace of his usual laziness; it was the tone of a commander on the battlefield.

“DEFENSIVE FORMATION! NOW!”

Kurenai was already at his side, a kunai in each hand, her red eyes glowing with an alarming intensity in the white gloom. The genin reacted on pure instinct, the product of countless hours of training. In an instant, they moved, forming a tight circle around Tazuna, weapons in hand, their eyes scanning the impenetrable curtain of fog.

“What’s wrong now?” Tazuna’s mocking voice came through the fog, though with a tremor he couldn’t quite hide. “Scared of a little mist? I told you it would be a simple trip…”

No one answered him. The only sound was that of their own held breaths, their hearts pounding in their ears, and the constant drip of water condensing on the leaves of the trees and falling to the ground. The world had been reduced to that small circle of ninja and an endless white wall of fog. And in that fog, they felt, something was watching them.

Announcement:
Author’s Note

I’m officially kicking off the daily chapter uploads for my fanfic Naruto’s Falna System: Goddess of Kunoichi Path!

Starting today, there will be a new chapter every single day.

If you’d like to read 20+ chapters in advance, you can find me over at patreon.com/shurazero. Supporting there also lets you take part in exclusive polls that sometimes help decide the direction of the story.

All chapters will always remain free to read here—the difference is simply how fast you get to enjoy them.

We’re already a community of 100+ readers on Patreon, and my next goal is to reach 200. We’re almost there!

Thank you so much for reading and for all your support—it’s what makes it possible for me to keep writing and sharing these fics with you