The Festival!
Team 7 stood outside the small inn they had been staying at, already dressed in the festival clothing gifted to them by Tazuna’s family. The boys were ready. They had been ready for the past fifteen minutes. Yet, they remained stuck in place, waiting.
“For the love of—Sakura, hurry up!” Naruto whined, tilting his head back dramatically. He adjusted his festival yukata for the tenth time, clearly unused to wearing anything other than his usual jumpsuit. “We’re gonna miss all the food stalls at this rate!”
“She’s probably making sure her hair is perfect,” Sasuke muttered, arms crossed as he leaned against the inn’s wooden railing.
Harry, who had been watching the street with mild interest, snorted. “Can you blame her? This is probably the first time she’s had an excuse to dress up properly.”
As if on cue, the door creaked open, and Sakura stepped out, adjusting the final touches of her hair. She had taken the time to style it slightly differently, framing her face neatly. Her yukata, a soft pink with delicate floral embroidery, suited her well.
She noticed their expectant stares and huffed, “Oh, please, you guys don’t even try with your appearances, so of course you don’t get it.”
“Sure,” Naruto said with a deadpan stare. “Let’s just go before—”
A presence suddenly popped up behind them, and all four flinched on instinct.
“Yo.”
They turned in unison to see Kakashi standing there as if he had always been part of the conversation. He was dressed exactly the same as usual—flak jacket, mask, headband, everything.
Dead silence.
“…Sensei,” Harry began, looking him up and down. “You do know they gave you festival clothing too, right?”
“I know,” Kakashi replied cheerfully.
Sakura pinched the bridge of her nose. “Then why aren’t you wearing it?”
Kakashi gave an exaggerated hum, as if deeply pondering the question. “I don’t feel like it.”
Naruto twitched. “Then what was the point of them giving it to you?!”
“Sentiment?” Kakashi offered lazily.
Sasuke sighed, already done with this entire conversation. “Whatever. Let’s just go.”
With that, Team 7—plus their ever-mysterious, ever-exasperating sensei—finally made their way toward the heart of the village, where the festival was in full swing.
The streets of the Land of Waves were alive with lanterns, music, and the chatter of villagers enjoying the festival. The scent of sizzling street food drifted through the air, mixing with the crisp evening breeze.
Team 7 weaved through the growing crowd, their eyes scanning the different stalls and activities. Naruto’s head swiveled wildly, already planning out which food to try first, while Sakura admired the decorations. Sasuke remained unimpressed, though his gaze occasionally flickered toward the more traditional performances taking place in the distance.
Then, a familiar voice called out.
“Oi! Over here, you brats!”
They turned to see Tazuna standing near a food stall, waving them over with a grin. Tsunami and Inari stood beside him, the latter looking far less gloomy than when they had first met him.
“Took you long enough,” Tazuna said as they approached. He gave Kakashi a once-over before raising a brow. “Huh. Figured even you’d at least try to blend in.”
Kakashi only offered a lazy eye smile. “I like to be consistent.”
Tsunami chuckled before turning her attention to the younger members of the group. “You all look wonderful. It’s nice to see young shinobi enjoying a festival instead of just working.”
“Yeah, well, it took a lot of waiting,” Naruto grumbled, throwing a pointed look at Sakura, who huffed and crossed her arms.
“Hey, looking good takes time.”
Before another argument could break out, Inari suddenly spoke up. “You guys are gonna play some of the festival games, right?”
Naruto’s attention snapped to the boy. “Festival games?”
Inari nodded. “Yeah, there’s a ton of ‘em. Ring toss, goldfish scooping, target shooting—oh! And there’s gonna be a big fireworks show later!”
Naruto practically vibrated in place. “That. Sounds. AWESOME.”
Tazuna chuckled, taking a swig from a cup of sake. “Well, don’t just stand there, go have fun. Just don’t get into too much trouble.”
“You’re talking to Naruto,” Sasuke muttered.
Harry smirked. “Which means it’s already too late.”
Naruto scowled. “Oi—”
But before he could start yelling, Sakura grabbed his arm and started pulling him toward the nearest game stall. “C’mon, let’s just go already.”
Laughing, the rest of the team followed, fully ready to enjoy the festival while it lasted.
The festival was in full swing, and Team 7 wasted no time diving into the festivities. The first stop was a ring toss game, where Naruto, with all the confidence in the world, stepped up and immediately missed every single throw.
“What?! No way, I totally had that!” he whined, watching the last ring bounce off the bottle.
Sasuke scoffed, stepping up with his usual air of superiority. With precise movements, he tossed each ring, landing them effortlessly. The stall owner clapped, handing him a small prize.
“Tch. It’s not that hard,” Sasuke muttered, but the grin tugging at his lips betrayed his enjoyment.
Sakura rolled her eyes. “Show-off.”
Harry, meanwhile, stood off to the side, smirking as he collected a few more bets from some village kids who were wagering on Naruto’s next failure.
“Put me down for five ryo on him missing every shot,” one kid whispered.
“You have no faith in me!” Naruto pointed an accusing finger at Harry.
“No, I have common sense,” Harry countered, pocketing the money.
Next was the goldfish scooping game, where Naruto and Inari became deadly serious competitors. With intense focus, they dipped their paper scoops into the water, only for Naruto to get too excited and tear through his net instantly.
“You’ve got the finesse of a bull,” Sasuke deadpanned, watching as Naruto groaned in frustration.
Sakura, however, was the dark horse of the competition, catching three goldfish with ease. She smiled smugly as she cradled her new prize in a small bowl. “It’s called patience, Naruto.”
The games continued—target shooting, where Harry managed to win a large stuffed fox, which he immediately gave to Inari, much to the boy’s delight. There was even a strength test, which Naruto insisted he could win. The result? He almost knocked the entire structure down, much to the horror of the stall owner.
Through it all, laughter echoed between them, a rare moment of pure joy that none of them had experienced in a long time. Even Sasuke, usually stoic and reserved, was grinning like a kid.
And in the background, as always, Kakashi lurked. But this time, there was no eerie, unsettling aura—just a quiet presence, watching over his team. His visible eye crinkled with something warm as he observed his students playing like normal kids.
Then, in an unexpected move, Kakashi casually picked up a ring from an abandoned game stall, flicked his wrist, and landed it perfectly around the highest prize on the shelf.
Naruto’s jaw dropped. “Oh, come on! How did you do that?!”
Kakashi merely patted his head. “Skill.”
Harry narrowed his eyes. “You used chakra, didn’t you?”
Kakashi said nothing.
Sakura sighed. “Let’s just enjoy the festival before Naruto explodes.”
As the night deepened, the festival lights grew brighter, and the scent of sweet dango and grilled meats filled the air. The laughter, the games, and the rare peace between them felt almost dreamlike—like something that would last forever.
None of them knew what was coming.
But for now, they had this moment.
And that was enough.
A thick silence had settled over the Land of Waves, the echoes of laughter and music from the festival long faded into the night. Houses stood dark and quiet, their occupants resting after a day of joy and celebration. Even the ocean seemed still, its waves lapping gently against the shore as the village basked in the rare moment of peace.
Then came the explosion.
A deafening roar shattered the night, a violent eruption of fire and smoke bursting from the eastern side of the village. The ground trembled beneath the force, rattling wooden homes and sending flocks of birds screeching into the sky. For a brief second, many assumed it was a stray firework—perhaps one last spark of celebration. But then came the second blast. And the third.
Panic spread like wildfire. Doors were thrown open, villagers scrambling from their homes, their tired minds struggling to make sense of the chaos. The thick, acrid scent of burning wood and metal filled the air. Shadows flickered against the glow of distant flames, moving figures darting through the smoke.
A villager, standing frozen in place, could barely make sense of what was happening. His breath hitched as he caught sight of them—figures clad in dark clothing, their faces obscured by masks, their movements sharp and calculated. But it was the headbands that sent ice down his spine.
Hidden Mist.
Why? Why would the Hidden Mist be attacking the Land of Waves? The question burned in his mind, but no answer came. There was no time to think, no time to understand. Only time to run.
The explosions shattered the fragile quiet of the night, sending violent tremors through the ground and rattling the thin wooden walls of Tazuna’s home. The acrid scent of smoke and burning wood filled the air, thick and suffocating.
Naruto jolted awake, instinctively reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, the ringing in his ears making it hard to think. He wasn’t the only one—Sasuke was already up, eyes narrowed, scanning the room as if expecting an enemy to burst through the walls. Harry was shaking off his grogginess, hand twitching toward where his katana should have been. Sakura’s breath hitched, her mind quickly piecing together the situation.
Then, as if he had been there the whole time, Kakashi appeared in the dimly lit room. His visible eye was sharp, unwavering, filled with an alertness that said he had been ready for this moment long before they even woke up. In his hands were their weapons, which he tossed to each of them with practiced ease.
"Get ready," he said, voice firm but calm. "The Land of Waves is under attack."
Tazuna’s face paled at the words. "Is it Gato?" he asked, though his voice wavered, as if he already knew the answer.
Kakashi shook his head. "No. It’s Zabuza."
The name alone sent a cold wave of tension through the air. They had suspected he wasn’t done, but to attack the village outright like this—it was a declaration of war.
Kakashi didn’t waste time. "Tazuna, you need to get out of here. Take your family and as many villagers as you can and cross the bridge." His tone left no room for argument. "It’s your best chance. If you stay, you’ll be caught in the fighting."
Tazuna clenched his fists, glancing toward his daughter, Tsunami, who was holding onto Inari protectively. He knew Kakashi was right.
"But what about you guys?" Inari’s small voice cut through the chaos, wide brown eyes locking onto Naruto. He wasn’t crying, not this time—there was only concern, raw and desperate. "Are you gonna be okay?"
Naruto, despite the rising tension, gave the boy his usual fox-like grin. "Of course we will!" He crouched slightly, reaching into his pouch and pulling out an extra kunai. Without hesitation, he pressed it into Inari’s hands. "Just in case. Protect your mom and protect your grandpa. You got this, right?"
Inari stared at the weapon in his hands, then up at Naruto. The boy nodded, gripping it tightly. His hands trembled, but there was a newfound determination in his gaze.
Kakashi gave a sharp nod. "Go. Now."
Tazuna didn’t hesitate any longer. With a final glance at Team 7, he ushered his family toward the door, the urgency in his steps mirroring the chaos unfolding outside.
As the door slammed shut behind them, Kakashi turned to his students. "Listen up," he said, voice low but carrying authority. "This isn’t training. This is war. Stick together, stay focused, and follow my lead."
Naruto tightened his grip on his kunai. Sasuke’s jaw was set, his Sharingan gleaming faintly in the dim light. Harry exhaled slowly, steadying himself. Sakura swallowed hard but nodded, her fists clenching.
They were ready. Or at least, they had to be.
The streets of the Land of Waves were eerily silent as Kakashi and Team 7 moved swiftly through the village. The only sounds were the distant crackle of flames and the rhythmic pattering of their footsteps against the damp ground. The salty scent of the ocean mixed with the acrid stench of burning wood, filling the air with an oppressive weight.
The village was completely deserted.
Kakashi’s sharp eye swept across the abandoned homes and market stalls, confirming what he had hoped—Tazuna and the villagers had made it out just in time. There were no civilians caught in the crossfire. That was one less thing to worry about.
But the real threat lay ahead.
They emerged into the heart of the village, where the town square stretched open beneath the moonlight. And waiting for them, standing with an air of absolute confidence, was the Demon of the Hidden Mist himself.
Zabuza Momochi.
He was alive. And from the way he stood, sword resting lazily on his shoulder, it was clear he had never truly been gone.
Beside him, the so-called hunter-nin stood motionless, mask obscuring their face, though the glint in their eyes betrayed their awareness.
But it wasn’t just them.
Behind Zabuza stood a force far larger than any of them had anticipated. A swarm of figures loomed in the shadows—mercenaries, assassins, rogue shinobi, all clad in mismatched gear, yet each radiating an aura of danger. Their eyes gleamed with the anticipation of bloodshed.
Kakashi’s visible eye narrowed. He had encountered scattered cells of this group before—silent killings, political disruptions, attacks with no discernible pattern. They were a plague, a growing cancer in the underbelly of the shinobi world, as much of a problem as the Akatsuki in some regions. And yet, their leader had always remained a mystery.
Until now.
A slow, dark chuckle rumbled from Zabuza’s throat as he took a step forward, his sharpened teeth glinting under the flickering light of the nearby fires. "You’re quick, Kakashi," he said, voice deep and taunting. "Got here before I even had to start hunting you down myself."
Kakashi didn’t answer immediately. His gaze flickered across the assembled force, assessing, calculating. Then, he spoke, his tone dangerously calm.
"So this is the infamous Dagger’s Veil," he murmured. "I should have known."
The name sent a ripple of tension through the air. Dagger’s Veil—the elusive terrorist organization that had been leaving a trail of destruction across multiple nations. A group with no allegiance, no ideology other than chaos itself. And Zabuza had been at its helm all along.
Naruto’s fists clenched at his sides, kunai gripped tightly. Sasuke’s Sharingan spun to life, analyzing every movement in the enemy ranks. Harry’s fingers twitched toward his katana, his magic coiling beneath his skin. Sakura’s heart pounded, but she held firm, standing her ground beside her team.
Zabuza smirked at their reactions. "Surprised? You shouldn’t be." He adjusted his grip on the massive blade in his hands. "Gato was just a means to an end. The Land of Waves is the perfect foothold for what I have planned next. And you..." He lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Kakashi. "You and your little brats are in my way."
Kakashi exhaled slowly, reaching up to lift his headband, revealing the Sharingan beneath. His expression hardened.
"Then we’ll just have to stop you."
The air grew thick with killing intent.
And then, the battle began.
The moment Kakashi gave the signal, Naruto surged forward, fingers flying through a rapid sequence of hand seals.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu!"
A burst of smoke filled the battlefield, and when it cleared, dozens of Narutos stood alongside him, all wearing the same confident grin. The rogue ninjas hesitated for a fraction of a second, clearly caught off guard by the sheer number of opponents. Naruto took advantage of that moment.
Two of his clones immediately darted ahead, drawing attention while Naruto himself leaped back, palming a storage scroll. He unrolled it in midair, his chakra flaring as he pressed a hand to the symbols inked on the paper.
"Fuinjutsu: Weapon Release!"
With a sharp hiss, kunai, shuriken, and even explosive tags burst forth, raining down upon the enemy. The terrorists scrambled to evade, but some were too slow—an explosion rocked the ground as tags detonated, throwing bodies back with violent force.
Naruto landed lightly, gripping Minato’s three-pronged kunai. He didn't fully understand the technique his father had once used with it, but that didn’t mean he couldn't wield it effectively.
A pair of rogue ninjas rushed him from opposite sides. One swung a blade aimed at his ribs, while the other came in low, trying to take out his legs.
Naruto vanished in a blur of movement, ducking just as the attacks sliced through empty air. He twisted his body, kicking off the ground with a sharp burst of chakra. His kunai flashed as he spun midair, slashing across the arm of the first enemy before planting a foot into the second’s chest, sending him skidding back.
His clones wasted no time capitalizing on the opening. One grabbed the wounded enemy’s wrist, twisting it behind his back before driving a knee into his gut. Another clone slammed an elbow into the second enemy’s jaw, knocking him unconscious instantly.
"Nice!" Naruto grinned, but he didn’t have time to celebrate.
A third rogue, a massive man with a scarred face, roared as he charged forward, swinging a heavy iron club. Naruto barely had time to register the attack before the clone beside him was obliterated into a puff of smoke.
That thing will crush me if it lands.
Thinking quickly, Naruto flung his Hirashin kunai toward the terrorist’s feet. The man instinctively stepped back, eyes flickering down for a split second—just what Naruto wanted.
He surged forward, summoning another clone mid-stride. The clone grabbed his wrist, swinging him forward at incredible speed. Naruto’s kunai flashed as he slashed at the man’s side, drawing a deep gash before flipping away, landing on a rooftop with ease.
The rogue stumbled, gripping his wound, but before he could retaliate, Naruto formed a cross sign with his fingers.
"Shadow Clone Bomb!"
Five clones, each holding explosive tags, lunged at the man from all sides. His eyes widened in realization, but it was too late.
BOOM!
The explosion sent up a cloud of dust and smoke. Naruto landed on the ground smoothly, watching as the terrorist collapsed, unconscious from the sheer force of the attack.
More enemies approached, but Naruto’s grin widened. He twirled the Hirashin kunai in his fingers, his blue eyes shining with determination.
"Come on, then!" he called, his clones forming up behind him.
Sasuke exhaled sharply, his dark eyes scanning the battlefield. His muscles coiled as he watched the rogue ninja in front of him—a lean, masked figure armed with twin tantos. The terrorist smirked, likely thinking he had the upper hand.
He was wrong.
The rogue lunged forward, his blades slicing through the air. Sasuke didn’t move at first, waiting until the last possible second before shifting his stance. Chakra surged through his legs, and in an instant, he was gone—a blur of motion, too fast for the untrained eye to follow.
The terrorist’s strikes hit nothing but empty space. Before he could react, Sasuke was behind him.
"Too slow."
With a vicious spinning kick, Sasuke slammed his foot into the back of the man’s head, sending him sprawling forward. He barely had time to recover before Sasuke closed the distance again, his hands already forming seals.
"Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"
Sasuke inhaled deeply, then unleashed a volley of small fireballs, each curving unpredictably through the air. The rogue ninja weaved through them, barely managing to avoid the worst of the attack. But Sasuke wasn’t done.
Using his enhanced speed, he was already moving again, closing in before the enemy could recover. His fist slammed into the terrorist’s gut, forcing him to double over, and in the same fluid motion, Sasuke grabbed his collar and drove a knee into his ribs. The man collapsed with a groan.
"Tch." Sasuke scoffed. Not even worth my time.
But before he could turn away, three more enemies rushed him—one wielding a massive club, another with a chain sickle, and the third already forming hand seals.
Sasuke’s lips curled into a smirk.
"Let’s see how well you handle this."
Channeling chakra into his legs, he shot forward at inhuman speed, appearing directly in front of the club-wielding brute before he could even react.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"
Sasuke expelled a massive sphere of fire point-blank. The heat was overwhelming, forcing the terrorist to leap back, but Sasuke had already anticipated that. He pivoted on his heel and appeared behind the man mid-air, delivering a bone-crushing kick to the back of his skull. The terrorist crashed to the ground, unmoving.
The second enemy swung the chain sickle at him, the blade whistling through the air. Sasuke ducked, the weapon barely grazing his cheek, and retaliated immediately. His fingers flashed through seals.
"Fire Style: Flame Bullet!"
A concentrated blast of fire erupted from his mouth, engulfing the chain-wielding terrorist’s arm. He screamed in agony, dropping the weapon just as Sasuke darted forward, twisting his body to deliver a spinning kick to his jaw. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Only one opponent remained.
The rogue ninja had finished his jutsu, and a water bullet shot towards Sasuke at high speed. He barely had time to weave a counter-seal before leaping to the side, avoiding the brunt of the attack.
"Not bad," Sasuke admitted. "But not good enough."
Before the enemy could form another jutsu, Sasuke blurred forward. His fingers crackled with chakra as he slammed a burning punch into the man’s stomach, sending him skidding backward. Sasuke didn’t let up—he appeared behind him, grabbed the back of his collar, and slammed him into the dirt with brutal force.
The terrorist groaned weakly, unmoving.
Sasuke straightened, his breathing barely labored. His chakra control, stamina, and speed had improved drastically. The training had paid off.
He looked toward the rest of the battlefield, eyes narrowing as he saw more enemies approaching. A small smirk tugged at his lips.
"Come on. I’m just getting started."
Sakura took a deep breath, steadying herself as she surveyed the chaos of the battlefield. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of burning debris. Her heartbeat was steady, her mind sharp. This was different from before. She wasn’t just reacting—she was thinking, calculating.
Three rogue ninja surrounded her, their masked faces giving nothing away. One wielded a pair of short swords, another had kunai strapped to his fingers, and the last was barehanded but radiating killing intent.
Sakura exhaled slowly. She could do this.
The first enemy lunged, slashing downward with his swords. Sakura sidestepped fluidly, her eyes narrowing as she absorbed his movements. His stance was slightly open—he was overconfident in his speed.
I can use that.
She twisted, dodging a second slash by a hair’s breadth, and retaliated. Her fist snapped forward, chakra surging into her knuckles at the last second.
BOOM!
The impact sent the rogue ninja flying backward, his body skidding across the dirt before he collapsed, groaning. The other two hesitated for a fraction of a second—just long enough for Sakura to make her move.
"Too late."
Her hands blurred into seals.
"Demonic Illusion: False Surroundings Technique."
The remaining enemies stiffened as the world around them warped. The battlefield stretched endlessly, a dizzying array of false terrain forming before their eyes. Confusion flickered in their body language—just as she planned. The kunai-wielding enemy spun wildly, trying to locate her. His breath hitched as her voice whispered directly behind him.
"You should watch your back."
He barely had time to react before her elbow drove into his spine. His body folded inward from the sheer force, and she followed up with a precise kick to his ribs. He crumpled instantly.
Only one left.
The final rogue ninja—the barehanded one—had already seen through her genjutsu. He scoffed.
"Cheap tricks won't work on me, girl."
Sakura smirked.
"Who said that was the trick?"
Before he could respond, her body flickered out of sight.
Not genjutsu. Pure speed.
She reappeared behind him, fists clenched. He swung instinctively, aiming a brutal punch at her head, but she had already read his movements.
Mimicking his stance, she dodged his strike by mere centimeters, then countered with his own technique—a devastating uppercut that sent him reeling. His eyes widened in shock as she mirrored his fighting style flawlessly.
"You—!"
She didn’t let him finish.
Channeling chakra into her legs, she dashed forward and drove her fist into his gut. The sheer force lifted him off his feet before he slammed into the ground, coughing up blood. He didn’t get back up.
Sakura straightened, her breathing steady, her hands loose by her sides.
She had learned so much from training with Kakashi. She wasn’t just the weak link anymore. She was strong.
And she had just proved it. Sakura turned, and scowled at the sight of more enemies to fight.
How annoying. Sakura thought, readying herself to fight again.
Harry’s grip tightened around the hilt of his katana as he surveyed the battlefield. His emerald eyes flickered in the dim light, sharp and calculating, his body poised like a predator about to strike.
The rogue ninjas circling him were cautious. They had seen what the others could do, but Harry was an unknown variable. He was smaller than some of them, but there was an aura around him—an edge of something they didn’t quite understand.
Then he moved.
A single step forward—swift, light, effortless. Before his enemies could react, his katana crackled with electricity, lightning arcing along the blade in wild, dancing currents. The air hummed with power.
Lightning Blade.
Harry vanished.
He shot forward, almost weightless, his body moving with unnatural fluidity. His sword flashed, slicing through the first opponent’s guard before he even had time to defend. The strike wasn’t deep—it didn’t need to be. The moment the blade connected, lightning surged into the rogue ninja’s body, sending him convulsing before he collapsed to the ground.
Harry was already gone.
He flipped backward, perching for a split second on the edge of a wooden beam, one foot resting lightly as if he were nothing more than a bird preparing to take flight. His enemies turned, trying to track his erratic, unpredictable movement.
Too late.
He launched himself from his perch, spinning midair as he brought his katana down in an electrified arc. Sparks exploded on impact as his next opponent barely blocked with a kunai—only for the metal to conduct his lightning, shocking the rogue ninja into unconsciousness.
Two down.
The others hesitated, their movements wary.
That was when it happened.
A pulse.
An unnatural, uncontrollable force surged from within Harry’s body. It happened without warning—without intent.
The air cracked.
A burst of invisible energy erupted from him, sending the nearest enemies flying. Some crashed into walls, others tumbled across the dirt, momentarily dazed. The ground beneath him splintered.
Harry staggered, his breath hitching. His fingers twitched around the hilt of his sword.
That wasn’t chakra.
It was magic.
Raw, untamed, wild.
His heartbeat pounded in his ears. He didn’t have time to process it. One of the remaining enemies had recovered, charging at him with a kunai aimed straight for his throat.
Harry moved on instinct.
He dipped low, his stance birdlike—fluid, reactive. With a sharp twist, he redirected the attacker’s momentum, using their own force against them. His katana slashed upward, a controlled, precise strike—featherlight, yet devastating. The enemy crumpled.
Harry exhaled. His mind was still racing from the magic outburst, but he forced himself to stay focused.
He wasn’t done yet.
With another sharp step, he vanished into the fray, his blade crackling with lightning once more.
Kakashi’s eyes flicked toward his team in the midst of battle. The kids were holding their own—more than that, they were winning. Naruto’s strategic use of shadow clones and fuinjutsu had turned the battlefield into a trap-laden maze, Sasuke moved with blistering speed, flames licking at his enemies, Sakura’s genjutsu and enhanced strength rendered her opponents helpless, and Harry—Harry fought like a storm, lightning arcing along his blade.
They’ve grown. Kakashi admitted to himself.
However, Zabuza noticed too.
The rogue swordsman let out a low chuckle, his bandaged mouth twisting in amusement. "I see your little brats are more than just talk, Kakashi. Not bad. But I think it’s time we end this warm-up."
Kakashi’s instincts flared.
Zabuza raised a hand. “Haku.”
That single name was all it took.
Haku, who had remained still by Zabuza’s side, moved like a ghost, vanishing from sight. A blur of speed, a flicker of deadly intent—heading straight for Team 7.
No!
Kakashi surged forward, his body reacting before his mind could catch up. He had seen what Haku could do, how deadly and efficient the boy was. His students were strong, but they had never faced someone like him.
He was about to intercept—
—but Zabuza was faster.
A massive sword swung toward him in a brutal arc, forcing Kakashi to twist and block with a kunai. The impact rattled his bones, sending vibrations down his arm.
Zabuza’s single visible eye gleamed. “Ah-ah, Kakashi,” he drawled. “Your fight is with me.”
Kakashi’s scowl deepened beneath his mask. He shoved Zabuza’s blade back and leaped away, putting distance between them, but it was too late—Haku had already slipped past him, dashing toward his students like a deadly specter.
A sharp curse ran through Kakashi’s mind. He had failed to stop him.
Zabuza lunged again, forcing Kakashi’s focus back to their fight. He parried another heavy strike, muscles coiled with tension. He couldn’t afford to lose. If he fell here, there would be no one to stop Zabuza—and no one to help his team against Haku.
With a fierce glare, he adjusted his stance, Sharingan spinning to full power.
Fine.
If Zabuza wanted a real fight—
Kakashi would give him one.
Team 7 stood together once more, breathing heavily but victorious. The goons lay sprawled around them, unconscious or groaning in pain. Their training had paid off. The battle had been intense, but none of them had sustained serious injuries. Naruto grinned, rubbing the back of his head, while Sasuke exhaled sharply, his Sharingan fading. Sakura dusted off her sleeves, and Harry flicked the last remnants of lightning from his blade.
For a brief moment, there was a lighthearted air among them, a shared satisfaction in their victory.
Then, the temperature dropped.
A presence—sharp, cold, dangerous—settled over them.
From the mist, a figure emerged, silent as a ghost. A masked boy in dark clothing, his long black hair framing his porcelain-like face. His eyes—dark, unreadable—fixed onto them with eerie calm.
Sasuke tensed. Naruto’s grin faltered. Sakura took a wary step back. Harry’s grip tightened around his katana.
None of them had sensed him approach.
"Who the hell are you?" Naruto asked, voice wary but still carrying his usual bluntness.
The masked boy tilted his head. "I am Haku," he said simply. "And I cannot allow you to go any further."
Sasuke narrowed his eyes. “You’re with him, aren’t you? With Zabuza.”
Haku nodded, the slightest trace of sadness in his expression. "Yes. I owe my life to Zabuza. And I will do whatever it takes to protect him."
Naruto scowled. “But why? Zabuza’s trying to take over the Land of Waves—he’s leading a terrorist group! How can you stand by him?”
Haku closed his eyes for a moment before exhaling softly. "Because the world is cruel," he murmured. "Because the shinobi system is cruel."
Team 7 stiffened at the unexpected words.
Haku’s voice, though quiet, carried the weight of something deeply personal. "You ask me why I follow Zabuza? Because he saved me. Because he was the first person to give me a reason to exist."
His eyes opened again, cold and solemn. “Do you know what happens to those born with a kekkei genkai in my homeland? We are hunted. Feared. Slaughtered.”
A heavy silence fell.
"I was born in the Land of Water," Haku continued, voice distant, as if lost in memories. "A child with a cursed bloodline. My mother hid it from my father, but when he found out..."
His voice wavered, just barely.
"...he killed her. He tried to kill me too."
Naruto’s breath caught. Sakura looked away, a horrified expression crossing her face. Sasuke’s fingers twitched, but he said nothing. Harry, standing still, felt something deep stir inside him.
Haku’s gaze darkened. "I didn’t want to die. So I fought back. And in doing so... I killed my own father."
A bitter smile flickered on his lips. "After that, I had nothing. No home. No purpose. I wandered alone, waiting to die—until Zabuza found me. He saw something in me. He gave me a reason to live. And so, I became his weapon."
He raised his hand, ice forming at his fingertips in delicate, deadly shards.
"This world does not care about fairness," Haku said. "The shinobi system thrives on bloodshed. On cruelty. The strong kill the weak, and the weak are left behind. There is no justice in this world—only power."
A sudden gust of wind swirled around them, the mist thickening.
"And now," Haku whispered, "I will show you my power."
In an instant, the air turned frigid.
Ice mirrors began to form around them, a crystalline dome of pure, reflective surfaces.
Team 7 barely had a moment to react before they were trapped inside.
Kakashi’s focus was razor-sharp.
Zabuza was fast, but Kakashi was faster. He weaved through the mist, Sharingan tracking every movement, every feint, every shift in the battle’s rhythm. The clang of steel echoed as their blades met—Zabuza’s massive Kubikiribōchō against Kakashi’s kunai. The sheer force of the impact sent vibrations up Kakashi’s arm, but he held firm, twisting away before the cleaver could carve through him.
Zabuza followed, relentless, his attacks coming in brutal, sweeping arcs meant to cleave Kakashi in half. Kakashi ducked low, dodging by a hair’s breadth before retaliating with a lightning-fast kunai strike. Zabuza barely managed to parry, stepping back into the mist.
The damn mist.
Kakashi exhaled, his breath barely visible in the thick, choking fog that clung to the battlefield like a living thing. His Sharingan flickered, tracking movement even in near blindness. Zabuza’s figure blurred, his silhouette vanishing and reappearing in the haze.
“You’re stronger than before, Kakashi,” Zabuza admitted, his voice a ghostly whisper in the mist. “But strength alone won’t be enough.”
Kakashi said nothing. He merely listened, body coiled like a spring.
A shadow lunged. Kakashi twisted, his kunai slashing through air—no, through a water clone.
The real attack came from behind.
Kakashi spun, meeting Zabuza’s descending blade with his own, sparks flying as the steel screeched against each other. Zabuza grinned, pushing forward with sheer brute force, forcing Kakashi to dig his heels into the dirt.
Then Kakashi flickered—one moment under Zabuza’s blade, the next beside him, a kunai aiming straight for his ribs.
Zabuza barely turned in time, but the tip still sliced through his side. A sharp grunt, but he didn’t falter. Instead, he retaliated with a savage kick that sent Kakashi skidding backward.
Kakashi straightened, fingers sparking with Raikiri.
“This ends here,” he said.
Zabuza chuckled darkly. “That it does.”
They lunged.
Lightning met steel, chakra clashed with brute force, each blow more deadly than the last. Kakashi felt the strain in his muscles, the sharp sting of a shallow cut across his shoulder. Zabuza wasn’t holding back, but neither was he. One of them would die tonight.
Then, just as Kakashi prepared for his finishing move—
"HARRY!"
The scream tore through the night, raw, panicked, and undeniably Naruto’s.
Kakashi’s heart stopped for just a second.
And in that second—Zabuza struck.