A New Path

The world around them had turned into an icy prison. Towering mirrors of pure crystalline ice surrounded them, reflecting their every move, trapping them in a maze of shimmering illusions. The air was frigid, each breath leaving behind a thin mist, and the unnatural glow from the ice cast eerie, shifting shadows.

Haku stood within the mirrors, his masked face unreadable, his presence blending seamlessly into the frozen walls. His voice was soft, almost mournful. “Give up. You cannot break free.”

But surrender wasn’t an option.

Naruto’s fists clenched, his sharp blue eyes scanning the reflective maze. Sasuke’s one-tomoe Sharingan spun, trying to track Haku’s movements. Sakura pressed a hand against the icy surface, already analyzing its structure. Harry, katana in hand, could feel his magic stirring uneasily within him, restless and unpredictable.

Then, Haku moved.

A blur—too fast to follow.

Senbon needles shot through the air with terrifying speed, thin silver streaks of death. The team barely had time to react before the first volley struck. A sharp sting, a gasp of pain—each of them hit before they could even think to dodge.

Sasuke hissed as a needle buried itself in his shoulder. Naruto grunted as one grazed his forearm. Sakura barely shifted in time to avoid a direct hit, but one still sliced into her thigh. Harry felt a sharp prick near his ribs, his grip tightening on his katana as he stumbled back a step.

“Tch—he’s fast,” Sasuke growled through clenched teeth. “Too fast.”

Sakura quickly assessed the damage. “These are senbon needles,” she muttered, thinking back to medical lessons. “They’re precise—meant to incapacitate rather than kill outright. If he wanted us dead, he’d be aiming for fatal spots.”

Naruto scowled. “So he’s just toying with us?!”

“No,” Harry said grimly, eyes darting between the mirrors. “He’s making sure we don’t fight back.”

Before they could react further, Haku struck again—faster this time. The space inside the kekkai genkai was too tight. Dodging was almost impossible. The needles came in another volley, and no matter how they moved, they couldn’t fully avoid them.

It was like being hunted in a cage.

Harry barely managed to bring his katana up in time, the blade sparking as it deflected a few of the senbon needles. But he wasn’t fast enough. His eyes couldn’t track them properly, and more than a few found their marks—small, stinging pricks along his arms and torso. His breath came out ragged as he grit his teeth in frustration.

He couldn’t keep this up.

His magic stirred inside him, wild and restless, but he couldn’t rely on it—not yet, not when he had no control. His grip tightened on the katana, then he looked at Sasuke, whose Sharingan spun, tracking Haku’s every movement with sharp precision.

“Sasuke!” Harry called, tossing the katana toward him. Sasuke caught it in one fluid motion, eyes narrowing in realization.

“You can see them,” Harry said, breathing heavily. “Better than I can.”

Sasuke didn’t argue. With a quick twirl of the katana, he positioned himself in front of the team, blade angled and ready.

Another barrage of senbon needles came. Sasuke moved with unnatural precision, deflecting them before they could reach their targets. His Sharingan followed each movement, allowing him to react where the others couldn’t. But even then, the sheer speed of the attacks was overwhelming.

“This is insane,” Naruto gritted out, pressing his back against one of the mirrors. “We can’t keep dodging forever!”

Sakura wiped sweat from her brow, her mind racing. “There has to be a weakness,” she muttered. “Some way to break the structure—something we haven’t tried yet.”

Harry clenched his fists. “If we don’t figure it out soon, we might actually die in here.”

The weight of those words settled heavily over them. The realization was terrifying.

Haku wasn’t bluffing.

This kekkai genkai was an execution ground.

The relentless barrage of senbon needles continued, each strike growing more precise, more merciless. Sasuke, gripping the katana tightly, deflected them as best he could, his Sharingan tracking Haku’s blinding movements. But it wasn’t enough.

A sharp sting.

A senbon needle embedded itself into Sasuke’s hand. His grip faltered. The katana slipped from his fingers, clattering against the frozen ground. His eyes widened in shock, but there was no time to react—Haku had seen the opening.

From within the mirrors, Haku moved like a wraith, a blur of motion that barely registered before the next attack came. A rain of needles, more than before, all aimed for Sasuke—each one a fatal strike.

Time slowed.

A sudden force shoved Sasuke aside.

Harry.

The needles meant for Sasuke pierced into Harry instead, embedding deep into his back, his arms, his side. He let out a strangled gasp, his body jerking from the impact. His glasses slipped from his face, landing in the frost-covered ground.

Sasuke, still reeling from being pushed aside, looked up in horror.

Harry, swaying on his feet, turned his head slightly, his green eyes dim but unwavering. His lips curled into a weak smirk.

“You still need to avenge your clan… remember?” Harry rasped.

Then, his body gave out. He fell forward, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

The moment shattered.

Something in Sasuke snapped. His Sharingan spun violently, the single tomoe in each eye splitting, morphing—two tomoe in each eye.

“HARRY!”

Naruto’s breath hitched. His entire body trembled as he stared at Harry’s motionless form. His vision blurred with rage, with grief, with something primal clawing at his chest.

Then—

A deep, guttural growl rumbled from his throat.

His nails dug into the icy ground. His whisker marks darkened, stretching across his cheeks. Red chakra, bubbling, boiling, surged around him like a living entity.

With a roar, Naruto lunged forward, the ground cracking beneath him.

Haku barely had time to react before Naruto’s fist crashed through the ice mirror—shattering it in an explosion of shards. The force behind the punch was monstrous. It connected with Haku’s face, the impact so devastating that his mask split clean in half, revealing his wide, stunned eyes.

Haku’s body was sent hurtling backward, skidding across the frozen battlefield.

Sasuke and Sakura, still kneeling beside Harry, barely registered what had happened. Their hands trembled as they reached for him.

Sakura pressed her fingers against Harry’s neck, searching for a pulse. “Come on, come on—”

Sasuke’s grip tightened around Harry’s wrist. His breath was shallow, uneven. Blood stained the frost beneath him.

But he was still alive.

For now.

Naruto’s breath came in ragged, guttural growls, his chest heaving as the crimson chakra pulsed violently around him. His hair, normally golden, stood on end—spikier, wilder, and stained a blood-red hue. His nails sharpened into claws, his canines elongated into fangs. His eyes—once sky blue—burned with raw, feral hatred, slitted and gleaming red like a predator locked onto its prey.

Haku.

The boy who had taken everything from him.

The memories hit Naruto all at once.

Harry, ruffling his hair after a spar.

Harry, sneaking him extra food when his stomach growled.

Harry, smirking as he placed a winning bet on one of his dumb games.

Harry, standing beside him when no one else would.

Harry had been the only light in his life when everything else had been shadows. And now—now he was gone.

Naruto snarled, his muscles tensing as he pounced forward, moving faster than before, faster than Haku could track. In a blur, Naruto was upon him, clawed fingers swiping through the air, aiming to tear through the person who had stolen his brother from him.

Haku barely dodged, but Naruto was already on him again. There was no hesitation, no strategy—just raw, unfiltered rage. Haku managed to deflect the first hit, but the second connected—Naruto’s fist slammed into his ribs with enough force to crack them.

Haku let out a gasp of pain, his body skidding across the frozen battlefield, blood spilling from his lips.

Naruto stalked forward, his breath a growl. "You killed him."

Haku struggled to rise, gripping his injured side. "I—"

Naruto lunged again, his fist crashing against Haku’s mask, shattering the remaining fragments. His other hand clawed at Haku’s shoulder, pinning him down.

"You killed my brother!" Naruto roared, his voice warped, deeper, inhuman. He raised his clawed hand, ready to strike—ready to rip Haku apart.

Haku didn’t move. He didn’t resist. His eyes, soft and mournful, met Naruto’s blazing red ones.

“I’m sorry.”

The words were quiet, but sincere.

Naruto froze.

His mind screamed at him to keep going—to finish it. But something about Haku’s tone, the way he said it, cracked through the rage clouding Naruto’s head.

He hesitated. Naruto’s claws trembled in the air, inches away from Haku’s throat. His chest heaved, his heart pounding against his ribs like a drum of war, but his body—his mind—felt frozen.

Haku, lying beneath him, bloody and broken, looked up with eyes filled with something Naruto couldn’t place. There was no fear, no anger, no resentment. Just… sorrow. Acceptance.

"You’re just a child," Haku whispered. His voice was quiet, but it cut through the haze of Naruto’s rage like a blade. "Your brother… was only a child, too."

Naruto’s breath hitched. The crimson chakra still churned violently around him, but his grip slackened. His sharp nails, poised to tear, twitched in hesitation.

"This world… the Shinobi system," Haku continued, his voice soft, almost wistful. "It doesn’t allow children to live in peace. It takes and takes… until there’s nothing left."

Naruto swallowed thickly, his fangs grinding together. His mind raced, flashing with memories—of training, of laughter, of warmth that had been ripped away.

"But I am sorry," Haku murmured. "Sorry for taking him from you. Sorry for all of it."

Before Naruto could react, Haku’s body flickered.

Vanished.

Naruto blinked, his brain struggling to process what had just happened. The warmth of the body beneath his claws was gone, replaced by the cold, hard ice below.

He whipped his head around, searching—his instincts screamed at him, and his eyes locked onto a distant figure.

There.

Haku—his bloodied frame reappeared in the distance, between Zabuza and—

Kakashi.

Naruto's breath stopped.

Lightning crackled.

A blue flash of light illuminated the mist-laden battlefield, reflecting off the ice and the crimson of freshly spilled blood.

Chidori.

Haku had thrown himself in front of it.

The attack pierced straight through his chest. The sound of flesh being torn, the faint sizzle of burning skin—it echoed in Naruto’s ears like the tolling of a bell.

Haku didn’t scream.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t resist.

He had chosen this.

Naruto’s throat clenched. His body refused to move, his limbs suddenly leaden. He wanted to reach out, to stop it, but he was too far, too slow—too late.

Haku stood there, frozen in time, impaled by the crackling lightning in Kakashi’s hand. His head tilted slightly to the side, eyes barely open, his expression unreadable.

Zabuza’s eyes widened in shock, his usual cold, ruthless mask cracking.

Naruto watched, feeling as if the world had blurred around the edges, the sounds muffled, distant. The wind howled through the battlefield, carrying with it the scent of blood and rain.

Haku had chosen to die.

Naruto's hands trembled. His claws retracted. The red in his eyes wavered.

He had wanted to kill Haku just seconds ago. But now—

Now, he just felt sick. However, there were more pressing things to worry about.

Harry!

Naruto’s feet pounded against the icy ground as he sprinted back to where Sasuke and Sakura knelt over Harry’s still form. His heart was a hammer in his chest, his breath ragged, his hands shaking. The red haze of his rage flickered and burned away, leaving something else in its place—dread. A suffocating, consuming fear that settled deep in his stomach like a lead weight.

He dropped to his knees beside them, his hands hovering over Harry’s body, unsure where to touch, what to do. Blood stained Harry’s clothes, deep red soaking into the fabric, pooling beneath him. His glasses lay forgotten on the frozen ground, cracked and useless.

“Sakura!” Naruto choked out, his voice raw with panic. “Is he—?”

“He’s alive,” Sakura cut in quickly, pressing her trembling hands against Harry’s chest, her voice strained but firm. “But—I don’t know for how long.”

Naruto exhaled sharply, his body sagging with relief before tension coiled right back up in his muscles. “Then—then what do we do? What do we do, Sakura?! He’s—he’s bleeding too much—”

“I know that, Naruto!” Sakura snapped, but there was no anger in her voice, only desperation. “I—I know some medical tactics, but I don’t know if they’ll work. I—I haven’t practiced them on something this serious before.”

Her hands shook as she hovered them over Harry’s wounds, his body unnaturally still. He wasn’t even reacting to the pain. That terrified her more than anything.

Sasuke sat rigidly beside them, his hands clenched into fists. His Sharingan was still activated, spinning wildly, his breathing uneven. The image of Harry pushing him out of the way, taking the hit meant for him, was burned into his mind like a fresh scar.

Naruto forced himself to focus. “Just—just do it! Whatever you know, just—just try!”

Sakura bit her lip, nodding, forcing down her panic. This wasn’t the time to freeze. Harry needed her.

She took a deep breath, pressing her palms firmly against one of the worst wounds—the cluster of senbon needles embedded deep near his ribs. His breathing was weak, shallow, his skin frighteningly cold.

“Alright,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. “I can stop the bleeding. If I can just get his circulation steady—”

Her chakra flared to life beneath her fingertips, a soft green glow illuminating Harry’s pale skin. She focused, remembering every medical lesson she had studied, every technique she had practiced. This was different from a simple scratch, different from theoretical knowledge. This was real, raw, and life-threatening.

Her chakra seeped into Harry’s body, carefully knitting together the torn tissue, slowing the bleeding. But it wasn’t enough.

“I need more time,” she muttered, her brow furrowing. Sweat beaded at her temple.

“We don’t have time,” Sasuke said, his voice low, tense. His fingers twitched.

Naruto was deathly silent, watching Harry’s chest rise and fall in shallow, uneven breaths. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms. He had never felt so useless in his life.

Sakura kept working, her chakra flickering as she tried to stabilize him. Every second counted. If she failed—

No.

She wouldn’t fail. 

Naruto watched, his entire body trembling as Sakura struggled to keep going. He could see it—she was pushing herself past her limits, her chakra flickering, her breaths coming out in rapid, uneven gasps. It wasn’t enough.

Harry’s wounds were closing too slowly. His breathing was still too faint. His skin was still too pale.

No.

No, no, no.

Naruto’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He refused to stand by and do nothing. He refused to lose Harry.

A deep, desperate instinct clawed its way up his spine. His hands moved before he could think, reaching out and pressing down on Sakura’s.

Her eyes widened. “Naruto—”

And then something happened.

A warm, surging energy rushed through him, flooding from his body into hers. It was wild and untamed, raw and burning, but not painful. It was his chakra. He didn’t know how he was doing it—he wasn’t even sure if it was something he could do—but it didn’t matter.

Sakura gasped as the warmth spread into her hands, her tired chakra reserves suddenly surging back to life. The green glow around her fingers flared brighter, steadier. She could feel Naruto’s chakra mixing with hers, amplifying her medical jutsu beyond what she thought possible.

And then, slowly, miraculously, the senbon needles began to rise from Harry’s skin.

One by one, they plucked themselves free, landing in soft clinks against the frozen ground. The wounds they left behind stitched together seamlessly, vanishing as if they had never been there.

The blood remained, dried and staining his clothes, but the gaping, life-threatening injuries were gone.

Sakura let out a shaky breath, her shoulders sagging in exhaustion—but she could feel it. Harry’s breathing had steadied. His pulse was stronger. He was no longer at death’s doorstep.

Sasuke exhaled, his entire body unwinding from its rigid stance. Relief flooded through him, though his face remained carefully composed.

Naruto sat back, his hands shaking as he stared at them. He had no idea what he had just done, only that it had worked.

“He’s okay,” Sakura whispered, pressing a hand to her chest, as if reassuring herself that this was real. “He’s still unconscious, but—he’s okay.”

Naruto let out a laugh—half disbelieving, half relieved. He scrubbed a hand over his face, letting himself collapse onto the ground beside Harry.

They had done it.

Harry was going to live.

Naruto’s heart pounded as he gripped the Hiraishin kunai in his hand, its weight grounding him. His breath came in steady, measured puffs as he took a step forward, his eyes locking onto the battle before him.

Kakashi and Zabuza were both spent. Their movements, while still deadly, had lost their earlier speed, their strikes slower, their dodges just a fraction off. Their exhaustion seeped into the battlefield like a thick fog, the evidence of their prolonged fight clear in the shallow cuts, the blood staining their clothes, and the ragged way they both breathed.

Haku’s corpse lay off to the side, carefully set down, his mask now broken, revealing his peaceful expression even in death.

Yet Zabuza still fought.

Naruto’s fingers tightened around his kunai as he took a step forward, then another.

“Sasuke, Sakura,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off the battle, “watch Harry. I’m ending this.”

They didn’t argue. They simply nodded, understanding without words.

And then he moved.

Zabuza’s massive blade swung in a vicious arc, aimed straight for Kakashi’s head, but before it could land—CLANG!

Naruto’s kunai met the strike, the impact sending vibrations up his arm. The sheer strength behind Zabuza’s attack nearly made his knees buckle, but he held firm, pushing back with all the force he could muster.

Zabuza’s eyes widened in surprise.

Naruto scowled and shoved him away, forcing distance between them. His blood-red hair still spiked unnaturally, the remnants of his earlier transformation flickering beneath the surface.

“Why?” Naruto asked, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.

Zabuza, regaining his footing, growled, his grip on his sword tightening. “What?”

“Why are you still fighting?” Naruto’s voice rose, his eyes burning with something fierce, raw, unrelenting. “What the hell are you still swinging that sword for?”

Zabuza snarled. “Because I have to.”

Naruto’s lip curled. “Haku died for you! He died believing in your dream! And now what? You’re just gonna fight until you die too? Is that it? You think that’s what Haku wanted?”

Zabuza stiffened.

Kakashi’s one visible eye widened, observing Naruto carefully.

Naruto’s breath came out in ragged bursts, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He had to say this.

“Haku thought the world of you,” he continued, his voice filled with emotion. “He believed in you more than anything! You were his dream, Zabuza! And now you’re just—throwing everything away?”

Zabuza’s grip on his sword faltered, ever so slightly.

Naruto pressed forward, his voice unwavering.

“The shinobi system,” he spat, “it takes and takes and takes! It took everything from Haku! It took his childhood! It took his choices! And in the end, it took his life! And it’s doing the same to you!”

Zabuza froze.

Naruto’s eyes burned. “You’re just another pawn. Just another damn tool, like they said shinobi should be. But that’s wrong. You’re not a tool. You’re a person! Haku—he knew that, even when you didn’t! He gave everything for you because he thought that, in the end, you’d be able to live.”

Naruto’s voice softened, but his words carried weight.

“But you’re not even trying to live, are you?”

Zabuza’s breath hitched.

Naruto shook his head, disappointment clear in his expression. “You’re just doing what they want. Killing. Fighting. Dying. Just another shinobi playing his part in a system that doesn’t care.” He took a step closer. “So tell me, Zabuza—what are you fighting for? Because if you’re fighting just to die, then Haku died for nothing.”

Zabuza flinched as if struck.

A shuddering breath escaped him, and for the first time, Naruto saw something crack in his cold, brutal expression.

Tears welled in his dark eyes, but he still fought it.

“You…” His voice was hoarse. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to brush Naruto’s words off as childish, naive. But he couldn’t. Because every word—every damn word—had hit home.

Kakashi, silent until now, finally spoke.

“Naruto…” he murmured, astonished. His student, the loudmouthed, unpredictable troublemaker, had just done something no seasoned shinobi ever could—he had shaken Zabuza to his core.

Zabuza clenched his jaw. He gritted his teeth. He glared, trying to summon the old anger, the resolve to kill. But it wasn’t there anymore, his blade felt heavier than it ever had before, his knees felt weak, and his hands—

They trembled.

Zabuza stood there, his grip on his massive blade slackening, his breath uneven. The emotions playing across his face were like cracks in stone—deep, unrepairable, exposing something raw beneath the years of bloodshed and indoctrination. His once cold, brutal eyes softened, the sharpness in them dulling, not from exhaustion, but from something far more profound.

“…You really have a way with words, boy.” His voice was rough, almost unreadable, but there was something different about it. Not bitterness. Not mockery. Something else entirely.

Then, without another word, he vanished.

In the same instant, Haku’s corpse disappeared as well, as if carried away by the mist itself.

And just like that, the battle was over.

The thick fog that had suffocated the battlefield for so long began to clear, thinning into wisps before fading completely. As the last remnants of mist drifted away, the world beyond the bridge slowly came into view.

In the distance, past the ruined battlefield and the blood-streaked ground, the villagers of the Land of Waves stood gathered.

They were hesitant, their eyes darting warily at the scene before them—the shattered ice mirrors, the pools of blood, the battered shinobi who still remained. Their expressions were a mix of fear, uncertainty, and something else. Hope.

Naruto exhaled, feeling the tension drain from his body as he turned toward Kakashi, who had remained silent throughout the entire exchange.

“…Sensei?” Naruto called.

Kakashi’s single visible eye shifted from the space where Zabuza had once stood to Naruto, then flickered with something unreadable.

“…Is Harry alright?”

His voice.

It wasn’t the usual lazy, indifferent tone. It cracked.

Naruto’s breath hitched slightly. Kakashi sounded worried. No—he was worried. And not just in a passing, teacherly way.

He was genuinely, deeply concerned.

Naruto nodded. “Yeah,” he assured him, despite the exhaustion settling into his bones. “He’s gonna be okay.”

That seemed to be all Kakashi needed to hear, because in the next second, he took a deep breath, visibly steadying himself, and started toward the others. Naruto walked beside him as they reached Sasuke and Sakura, who sat beside Harry’s unconscious body.

Harry was still unmoving, but his breathing was steady, his chest rising and falling in an even rhythm. His face was pale, and his glasses lay forgotten in the dirt nearby, but compared to the lifelessness he had exhibited earlier, this was an improvement.

Sakura looked up as they approached, her hands still hovering protectively over Harry. “Sensei,” she murmured, exhaustion in her voice.

Kakashi crouched down, his gaze sweeping over his students, assessing them silently.

“…Are you all okay?” he asked finally, his voice gentle.

Sakura nodded first, then Sasuke.

“We’re fine,” Naruto added, rubbing the back of his head, though his muscles ached with fatigue. “Just tired.”

Kakashi’s gaze lingered on them for a moment before he let out a slow exhale. Then, with practiced ease, he reached down and carefully lifted Harry into his arms.

For a moment, Naruto was struck by the sight.

Harry, despite being a shinobi, despite wielding a blade and fighting alongside them, looked… small in Kakashi’s hold. As if he weighed nothing. As if he were just some kid—not a soldier, not a fighter, but a child.

Kakashi adjusted Harry’s position with effortless gentleness, cradling him as if he were nothing more than a baby. His grip was secure, careful, protective. For a long second, Kakashi just stared down at him, unreadable. His fingers twitched slightly, just the barest movement. Then he turned back to the others.

“…Well,” he sighed, the weight of the battle still clinging to his voice, but something lighter sneaking its way in. “I think it’s safe to say that we are never doing an C-Ranked mission again.”

His voice was calm, almost lighthearted. A moment of peace after the storm.

Despite everything—the exhaustion, the pain, the blood on their clothes—Naruto found himself grinning.

“Agreed.”