The Rifts We Walk

Shikako woke up to pain.

A bone-deep exhaustion that made her limbs feel like lead, her chakra sluggish, her head pounding like she’d been slammed into a wall—again.

She woke to the feeling of cold metal pressing against her skin.

Her body ached, her limbs stiff. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed with an irritating hum, burning against her retinas when she cracked her eyes open.

Her first thought was: Cold.

...Konoha?

The thought sent a jolt through her sluggish mind.

That wasn’t right.

Where—?

She cracked open her eyes.

A table. Straps around her wrists, ankles, and neck. A metallic taste in her mouth.

Her hands twitched, but they didn’t move far. Shackles. Heavy-duty.

Her head swam as muffled voices filtered in.

"Протокол завершен. Объект стабилен."

…Russian?

Something about that tugged at her brain, but her thoughts were too sluggish to latch onto it. She focused on breathing instead. On the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest.

There were people. Scientists, from the sound of it. The rustle of coats. The quiet beeping of monitors.

She didn’t panic. Not yet.

Shikako took a slow, steady breath.

Okay. Okay. Let's assess.

• She was restrained.

• She was in a sterile, metal room that screamed “evil science lair.” (orochimaru???)

• She was in a new body.

…Hah?

The realization should have sent her spiraling. But she'd been through this once, back when her name was something else. Before chakra and ninjas and war. Before she was Shikako Nara, before she died—

And now she was here.

With a body that felt like hers, but not. With memories that clicked into place, sluggish but certain.

She knew this. She knew this.

Which meant—

Something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

She focused, reaching inward—

And then she remembered.

The symbols on the walls. The muffled Russian. The way the lab looked too clean, too sterile, too modern.

HYDRA.

Shikako sucked in a sharp breath-

No.

NO.

FUCK.

NOT AGAIN!!

She forced herself still, heartbeat steady, even as her chakra flared instinctively. If Hydra had been experimenting on her, then they’d know about her power. Maybe not what it was, but enough to be cautious. Enough to be dangerous.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement.

Not from the scientists in their lab coats. Not from the guards stationed by the doors.

From the other tables.

They were lined up in rows—figures strapped down just like she had been, their bodies unnaturally still.

Shikako inhaled sharply. Test subjects.

And they weren’t just unconscious.

They were empty.

Blank expressions. Lifeless eyes. They breathed, but there was no spark behind it. Just the slow, mechanical rhythm of something that had been trained to exist rather than live.

She barely noticed when the scientists turned toward her, their conversation shifting.

"Объект 24 проявляет признаки сознания."

"Ожидалось. Она должна адаптироваться быстрее."

She understood them. Barely. The words weren’t clear, not like English or Japanese, but she recognized enough.

They expected this.

They expected her to wake up, to “adapt.”

That meant they had done something to her.

Shikako cracked her neck, testing the range of movement. These bastards must’ve been trying to make their own supersoldiers.

Did they succeed?

She flexed her fingers, focused inward, and—

Oh.

Oh, they had no idea what they’d done.

Shikako exhaled, letting her chakra pool beneath her skin. The restraints didn’t glow with seals—meaning they weren’t made for her kind of power.

Idiots.

Her chakra roared to life like a tidal wave crashing against the shore, sweeping through her limbs like wildfire, slightly weaker but more than she’d ever felt before.

It was different. Denser. Purified in a way she’d only ever read about in ancient scrolls.

Hydra had experimented on her.

She frowned.

Her chakra surged, snapping the restraints like twigs, sending sparks through the air as the scientists jerked back in alarm.

"Она очнулась! Держите её!"

One of them lunged for the alarm.

Shikako exhaled. Too slow.

She froze them mid-motion, shadows snapping up their legs, sealing them in place before their fingers even brushed the button.

She didn’t need weapons—she was the weapon.

A flick of her wrist sent shadows whipping across the room, slamming men into walls, wrapping around their throats before they could react. A surge of lightning fried the security panels, plunging half the lab into darkness.

The scientists screamed.

The test subjects—did not.

They didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t react, even as she ripped their captors apart.

Shikako turned to them, brows furrowing. “Hey,” she called. “Get up. You’re free.”

Silence.

Their empty eyes stared through her, eerily still.

It was unsettling.

And then—one moved.

A man. Strong. Tall. Metal arm.

Her breath caught.

Bucky?

His gaze locked onto hers, sharp but also empty. His muscles tensed like he was waiting for a command. Like he wasn’t even sure what to do without one.

Shikako’s stomach turned.

They were soldiers. Brainwashed. Conditioned.

And if she didn’t handle this right now, she wasn’t just going to be fighting HYDRA.

She was going to be fighting them.

She inhaled. Steadied herself.

Then she switched languages.

For a moment, no one moved.

The air was thick, heavy, charged with something electric and unstable.

Then—

The first soldier stepped forward.

Just one. A man with short blond hair, his eyes locked onto her like she was something foreign. Something new. He didn't speak. Didn't emote. But he moved, deliberately.

The second came next. Then a third. Then—

Bucky.

He was the only one she truly recognized, even with that distant, blank look in his eyes.

The Winter Soldier, still trapped in HYDRA’s grasp. But not for long.

Shikako took a slow breath. She needed to do this carefully.

One wrong move and the subjects—no, the soldiers—could turn against her. Not by choice, but because that’s what HYDRA had burned into them.

She could break them out physically, but mentally?

That would take more than shadows and lightning.

Her gaze flicked to the closest soldier, the blond one. His stance was stiff but waiting, like a man standing at attention for a superior.

She tested a theory.

"Оружие вниз."

Lower your weapons.

It wasn’t perfect, her Russian was terrible, but it was enough.

Some of them blinked. Just a little.

They didn’t have any—HYDRA hadn’t armed them yet—but she saw it.

A pause. A flicker of confusion.

Good.

She tried again. "Мы выходим. Следуйте за мной."

We’re leaving. Follow me.

The blond man stepped forward.

Then another.

And another.

Shikako turned to Bucky. 

His jaw was tight, his breathing shallow, like his body was waiting for orders. For a command.

For control.

She refused to give him that.

Instead, she took a step closer—just enough that he could see her clearly.

Bucky’s fingers twitched.

She softened her voice.

“Помоги мне.” Help me.

Silence.

Then—his breath hitched.

Something in his eyes cracked.

Small. Barely there. A flicker, a flash of something human.

Shikako didn’t wait for HYDRA to reset him.

She turned. “Let’s go.”

And they followed.

The alarms were screaming now.

Of course they were.

HYDRA never let their test subjects walk out of the lab unchallenged.

Shikako didn’t give them the chance.

Shadows curled around her fingers, her chakra buzzing as she pressed a hand to the floor. The lights shattered, plunging the hall into flickering darkness.

The soldiers didn’t flinch.

HYDRA’s forces, however? They hesitated.

And that was all she needed.

Shikako moved.

The first guard barely had time to raise his weapon before she sent him flying, shadows wrapping around his legs like iron chains.

The soldiers—her soldiers now, in a way—followed.

Silent. Efficient. Unstoppable.

The fight wasn’t fair.

HYDRA had their fancy weapons, their years of training, their tight formations.

But these were their own creations.

Men who had been trained to be perfect weapons.

And right now?

They weren’t fighting for HYDRA.

They were fighting against it.

Shikako grinned. Sucks to suck.

“Keep moving!” she ordered, throwing a lightning-coated kunai into an approaching guard. “We’re almost there—”

A bullet whizzed past her ear.

She dodged, spinning into the shadows, but someone else was already moving before she could react.

Bucky.

His arm snapped up, catching the next bullet mid-air.

Then, with a smooth, mechanical twist, he threw it back.

It hit its mark.

Dead center.

Shikako blinked.

Well. That was badass.

She gave him a grin. “Nice throw.”

He didn’t react.

No nod. No smirk. No acknowledgment that he’d just done something objectively cool.

Shikako exhaled. One step at a time.

"Come on," she said instead, nodding toward the exit.

Bucky hesitated—just for a second.

Then, finally, he followed.

And behind them, the lab burned.

The hallway smelled like burning metal and ozone.

Shikako led the way, but she wasn’t alone. They followed.

Silent. Moving in perfect formation, despite the chaos behind them.

HYDRA had created something unnatural.

Not just Bucky.

There were five others. Five blank-faced soldiers, their expressions empty, their eyes cold. They followed her, but it wasn’t obedience. It wasn’t loyalty.

It was habit.

A deeply ingrained, unthinking response to command.

Shikako’s gut twisted.

Because HYDRA had done this before.

They had built the Winter Soldier. And if she hadn’t woken up, if she hadn’t broken free—

They would have built her too.

She clenched her jaw. Not happening.

The group moved as one.

The first, the blond soldier of earlier, broad-shouldered and solid, walking with the quiet confidence of a man who had been trained to kill and knew it. His expression never changed, even as gunfire rang through the halls.

Then there was the youngest, barely older than she was. Red hair. Freckles. His uniform was too loose, like he had been brought into the program late, maybe still growing into his own body. But there was no hesitation in his movements.

The tallest of them was a woman, long brown hair braided tightly against her scalp. Cold, calculating eyes. If HYDRA had ever made squads, Shikako would bet she had been in charge.

The others blurred together—dark hair, light eyes, sharp movements, practiced silence.

Too much silence.

Shikako swallowed down her frustration. They weren’t machines.

Not yet.

She just had to remind them of that.

The exit was in sight.

Only a few more meters.

The hall split into two, one path leading toward the underground garage, the other leading deeper into the facility.

Shikako didn’t hesitate. She turned toward freedom.

But—

The others didn’t.

They stopped.

Right at the intersection.

The blond soldier—who she was now calling Blondie, because screw calling him “Subject 17” or whatever garbage HYDRA named them—turned his head. Just slightly.

Not toward the exit.

Toward the deeper hall.

The command center.

Shikako tensed. No.

She knew that look.

She remembered that look.

She wasn't sure why.

It was the same blank, mission-focused expression Bucky had worn in the movies. The same empty purpose HYDRA drilled into their soldiers.

They weren’t thinking.

They were waiting.

For orders.

For direction.

For someone to tell them to kill.

Shikako’s hands curled into fists.

They were choosing a mission over escape. Not because they wanted to.

But because they didn’t know how to want anything else.

She couldn’t let that happen.

She stepped between them and the hallway.

“Нет. Мы уходим.”

No. We leave.

Blondie blinked.

A slow, unnatural movement, like he wasn’t used to hesitation.

The red-haired boy—Kid Freckles, because names mattered, and HYDRA didn’t deserve to take that from them—shifted his weight.

Not against her.

But not with her either.

Shikako exhaled through her nose. Okay. Okay. She could work with this.

“Ты не оружие.”

You are not weapons.

The woman—Braids, because she sure as hell wasn’t “Subject 09”—narrowed her eyes. It was the first expression she had made.

Not doubt.

Not confusion.

But something close.

Shikako pushed forward. This was a fight, just a different kind.

She looked to Bucky. He hadn’t moved. He wasn’t watching the hall.

He was watching them.

And then, just barely—

He nodded.

Shikako turned back to the others.

She met their blank, empty gazes and did something HYDRA had never done.

She asked.

“Ты хочешь уйти?”

Do you want to leave?

Not an order.

Not a command.

A choice.

For the first time, they hesitated.

And that?

That was a crack in HYDRA’s control.

Shikako smiled.

“Come on.”

This time, they followed her.

They ran.

Through darkened halls, past fallen guards, through the wreckage of the lab she’d torn apart. The red emergency lights painted everything in flashes of blood and shadow, but Shikako barely noticed.

Because they followed.

Not as a squad. Not as HYDRA’s soldiers.

But as people.

She didn’t know if they understood it yet. If they realized they had chosen to follow her, rather than being ordered.

But they had.

And that meant everything.

They reached the garage.

Shikako spotted the vehicles immediately—HYDRA’s signature black trucks, armored jeeps, and, at the very back, a sleek, reinforced van.

Perfect.

She turned to Bucky. “Think you can hotwire a car?”

He stared at her.

She raised a brow.

A beat. Then, finally, he moved.

Progress.

The others… stood still.

Not from exhaustion. Not from indecision.

But because they were waiting.

Again.

Shikako gritted her teeth. Of course they were.

HYDRA hadn’t trained them to act alone. They had trained them to obey.

That hesitation?

It could get them killed.

And worse?

They didn’t even understand why.

She exhaled sharply, scanning their faces. Blondie, Kid Freckles, Braids, the others—no names, no memories, nothing but HYDRA’s training carved into their bones.

She needed to break that. Now.

“You,” she pointed at Braids. “Check the perimeter. Make sure no one’s coming.”

The woman’s expression didn’t change. But she moved.

That was one.

She turned to Kid Freckles. “Get in the van. Back seat.”

Another hesitation. Then—movement.

Two.

Shikako kept going.

Each order was met with a flicker of hesitation, the briefest moment of confusion before their bodies complied.

Not because she was controlling them.

But because they had no idea how else to function.

No.

That wasn’t right.

They weren’t obeying because she gave them orders.

They were learning how to take action.

That was the difference.

Shikako didn’t let herself hope.

She let herself fight.

The van roared to life.

The garage doors blasted open, smoke billowing into the night as HYDRA scrambled to catch up.

Too late.

Bucky was at the wheel. Shikako was in the passenger seat. The others were crammed in the back, too still, too quiet—but alive.

She could still feel the weight of their eyes on her.

Like they were waiting for something.

Shikako swallowed.

She wasn’t their leader.

She was just a girl who woke up in a nightmare and decided to burn it down.

And yet—

As the van sped through the dark, leaving HYDRA behind, she found herself gripping the seat just a little tighter.

Because if no one else was going to help them—

Then she would.

No matter what it took.

Shikako barely felt the bumps in the road. Her focus was on the five people sitting in the back.

Bucky was driving, his hands steady on the wheel. But the others?

They were too still.

Not because they were calm.

Because they didn’t know how else to be.

Their bodies were relaxed, but not in a natural way—in the way of people who had been trained to wait for commands.

It made her stomach churn.

They were free.

But they didn’t know what freedom meant.

No one spoke.

Not even in Russian.

She could feel their eyes on her. Watching. Waiting.

Shikako exhaled through her nose. Fine.

She turned in her seat, meeting their gazes head-on.

No more orders. No more commands.

“Вы понимаете, что мы свободны?”

Do you understand that we’re free?

Silence.

Then—

The blond one, sitting closest to the door, blinked. Slowly.

“И что?”

And what?

Shikako’s breath caught. That was… real.

Not automatic. Not robotic.

He had thought about that response.

A small thing. But not small at all.

She nodded, her voice steady. “Теперь мы выбираем.”

Now we choose.

Another pause.

Then, from the youngest one—red-haired, barely older than a teenager:

“Я не знаю, как.”

I don’t know how.

Shikako’s throat tightened.

Of course they didn’t.

HYDRA had stolen that from them.

Their choices. Their agency. Their selves.

Shikako clenched her fists. Not anymore.

“Как вас зовут?”

What’s your name?

Silence.

Not hesitation—blankness.

Like the question itself didn’t make sense.

Her stomach twisted.

They didn’t have names. They didn’t even know if they should have them.

She refused to let that stand.

Her eyes landed on Blondie. The one who had spoken first, the one who seemed to process things a little faster than the others.

He was watching her, waiting.

She met his gaze. “Выберите имя.”

Choose a name.

A flicker of confusion. Just a second. Then—blankness again.

He didn’t know how.

Shikako inhaled. Fine. She’d do it for them.

She pointed at him. “Алексей.” Alexey

A pause.

Then, a slow, almost imperceptible nod.

It wasn’t acceptance. Not fully.

But it wasn’t rejection either.

She turned to the red-haired one.

He flinched. Just slightly.

Shikako softened her voice.

“Миша.” Misha

Another pause.

Then—a nod.

One by one, she went through them.

The woman, sharp-eyed, braided hair— “Валерия.” Valeria

The tall, broad one, quiet but not passive— “Петр.” Peter

And finally—the last man, darker-haired, watchful, hesitant— “Игорь.” Igor

The van rumbled on.

No one spoke.

But something had changed.

For the first time, they weren’t just blank slates.

They were people.

And that?

That was a start.

The first thing Shikako realized—besides the whole HYDRA-was-insane-and-she-just-broke-six-brainwashed-supersoldiers-out-of-a-lab situation—was that they couldn’t keep wearing these damn uniforms.

It had been fine during the escape. At night. In a burning HYDRA base. Surrounded by chaos and gunfire.

But now?

Now they looked like a bunch of escaped test subjects straight out of a horror movie.

Barefoot, clad in medical pants and sleeveless training shirts, all eerily silent and moving in perfect sync.

It screamed “government experiment.”

Or worse—it screamed... orochimaru.

And she was not about to let them get caught because they looked like a creepy assassin squad.

Shikako rubbed a hand down her face. They needed clothes.

And food.

And a plan.

The van rumbled to a stop at an abandoned gas station.

Beyond it, she could see a small town—modest, quiet, out of the way. The kind of place where people would notice strangers.

They couldn’t just walk in like this.

She exhaled, turning in her seat. “Мы привлекаем внимание.”

We attract attention.

Alexey—Blondie, because even with a name, she still wasn’t used to calling him that—nodded.

The others stayed expressionless.

Shikako pressed forward. “Я изменю свою внешность. Куплю одежду.”

I’ll change my appearance. Buy clothes.

That got a reaction.

Not a big one. Just the slightest shift of tension.

Peter—the biggest of them—frowned. Not deeply, not with emotion, but with something close to calculated concern.

Shikako sighed. “Я вернусь.”

I’ll come back.

Still, silence.

She turned away before she could second-guess herself. She had no choice.

If they all went in, they’d get spotted immediately. They needed supplies, and she was the only one who could walk into a store without setting off alarms.

She stepped out of the van and wove the Henge no Jutsu.

In an instant, her appearance shifted—blond hair, softer features, plain clothes. Nothing memorable. No reason for anyone to look twice.

She was just a normal girl.

And normal girls could walk into convenience stores without attracting the police.

She hated leaving them behind.

But she had to.

So she left.

She walked down the cracked road, reached the town, and bought clothes first.

Loose jeans, sweaters, boots, jackets. Nothing fancy, nothing attention-grabbing. Just enough to make them blend in.

Then came the food.

Bread. Crackers. Water. Anything easy to carry.

By the time she finished, her arms were full of plastic bags. Her wallet—stolen from a HYDRA officer—was considerably lighter.

She left the store, slipped into the shadows, and dropped the transformation.

Then she booked it back to the gas station.

And the moment she stepped around the van—

She froze.

Because the van was gone.

Shikako stared at the empty lot.

Blinking.

Processing.

Then, finally—

She dragged a hand down her face. “何てことだ.”

Oh my god.

She turned, scanning the lot, searching for any sign of them—

And there, parked across the street, was a completely different vehicle.

An old, dark-colored SUV.

With six silent supersoldiers sitting inside.

Shikako stormed over, yanked the door open, and gawked.

“You—” She gestured wildly. “You stole another car?!”

Alexey—perfectly calm—tilted his head. “Мы не могли остаться на месте.”

We couldn’t stay in one place.

Shikako opened her mouth. Closed it.

Because… okay.

He wasn’t wrong.

She inhaled deeply, counted to six, and then shoved the bags onto Misha’s lap.

“Fine. Fine. Whatever. Just—put these on.”

The soldiers took the bags without question.

And as the car rumbled to life, Shikako slumped in the passenger seat.

She was so not built for this.

Shikako stared out the window, arms crossed, pretending she wasn’t still mentally screaming.

Because, okay. Fine.

They had stolen another car.

Was it smart? Yes.

Did she like it? No.

But the real victory?

They were finally wearing normal clothes.

No more HYDRA uniforms. No more bare feet. No more creepy test subject squad aesthetic.

Now they looked like a group of very tired, very underfed people who had questionable fashion sense.

Better.

Not great. But better.

Shikako tossed a bag of bread to Igor. He caught it without looking.

"Ешьте."

Eat.

No one moved.

She blinked. “Вы голодны?”

Are you hungry?

Another long, silent pause.

Then, finally, Valeria spoke.

“Я не знаю.”

I don’t know.

Shikako’s stomach dropped.

Of course. Of course.

HYDRA hadn’t just controlled their actions. They had controlled everything.

What they ate. When they ate. If they ate.

Shikako exhaled, softer this time. She reached for her own food—a pack of crackers—and took a bite.

She chewed. Swallowed.

Then, deliberately, she repeated: “Ешьте.”

Eat.

This time?

They did.

The food disappeared slowly.

Not like they were savoring it. Not like they enjoyed it.

Just like… they were completing a task.

Shikako forced herself to stay calm. One step at a time.

She glanced at Bucky.

He was watching them.

Not eating. Not speaking. Just watching.

His jaw was tight, his hands tense against his knees, like he was seeing something he didn’t like.

Or maybe—

Like he was seeing something he understood too well.

Shikako hesitated. Then—very deliberately—she handed him a bottle of water.

Bucky blinked.

"Ты тоже человек, Джеймс. Пей."

You’re human too, James. Drink.

Bucky flinched.

His fingers twitched.

His breath hitched.

For a second—just one—he looked vulnerable.

Like he hadn’t expected to be given a name.

Shikako didn’t push.

Didn’t react.

She just… waited.

Finally—slowly—he took the bottle.

Shikako glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He was still staring at the water bottle in his hands, fingers curled tightly around the plastic.

Bucky—James—had flinched like he had been hit.

Like the name itself had shaken something loose.

Like he didn’t know what to do with it.

Like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

She turned away, pressing her forehead against the window.

She had given them names.

That didn’t mean they knew what to do with them yet.

It was Valeria who spoke first.

Soft. Careful. Uncertain.

“Джеймс.”

James.

Bucky’s breath hitched.

Just barely.

But Shikako caught it.

The others weren’t looking at him. Not directly.

But they were… aware.

James.

Then, finally—Bucky exhaled.

Low. Quiet. Unsteady.

But real.

He didn’t say anything.

But he didn’t deny it either.

And for now?

That was enough.

The SUV rumbled on, the road stretching endlessly ahead.

Shikako barely noticed.

Her thoughts were elsewhere—deep in the past, tangled in something she shouldn’t be thinking about.

She glanced at the five in the backseat.

Alexey. Misha. Valeria. Peter. Igor.

Names they weren’t used to yet.

People who didn’t know how to be people.

Because HYDRA had never let them.

They had been broken down, erased, reprogrammed into something useful.

And for a second—just one—Shikako thought of Konoha.

Of her home. Of the way things worked.

To what it meant to be a shinobi.

To how she had been trained to follow orders, to obey, to put the mission above all else.

To how children were raised in a system that expected them to kill before they could even grow up.

To how—

To how she's meant to be weapons for the village.

To kill when told. To die when told.

And wasn’t that what HYDRA had done too?

Wasn’t that—

Shikako’s grip on the door tightened.

No.

That wasn’t fair.

That wasn’t the same.

Because Konoha wasn’t HYDRA.

Shinobi knew what they were.

She knew that. She knew that.

Konoha had rules. Konoha had people who cared. Konoha had bonds.

But ROOT?

Her stomach twisted.

ROOT was different.

ROOT had been HYDRA long before she remembered HYDRA.

They had taken orphans, children without ties, and turned them into shadows.

They had erased names. Wiped away emotions. Beaten obedience into them until there was nothing left.

Nothing but a mission.

Nothing but a weapon waiting to be used.

Just like HYDRA.

Shikako exhaled, slow and steady.

She wouldn’t let them become what ROOT what HYDRA had tried to make.

She refused.

The SUV rumbled beneath them, eating up miles of empty road.

Shikako kept her eyes on the dark horizon, the endless stretch of highway disappearing into nothing.

She didn’t know where they were.

Didn’t know where they were going.

All she knew?

They had to get as far away as possible.

She checked the fuel gauge. Half a tank left. Not great, but enough to keep moving for a while.

She glanced at the others.

They sat silent and still, like they hadn’t just escaped from the worst place imaginable. Like they were waiting for orders that would never come.

James—Bucky, no, James—was the only one who looked… tense.

Not in the way they did.

Not blank.

Restless.

Like he was waiting for something to go wrong.

Shikako exhaled slowly, pressing her forehead against the cool glass of the window.

There was no plan.

No destination.

No real idea of what the hell she was supposed to do next.

But that didn’t matter.

Because stopping?

Stopping meant HYDRA could find them.

And she’d rather drive into the unknown than risk going back.

Shikako had no idea where they were. No landmarks, no signs, nothing that told her what country they were even in.

Russia, probably. Or somewhere in Eastern Europe. But that didn’t help much.

All she knew was that they had to keep moving.

She glanced at James.

He hadn’t spoken since she called him by his name. Hadn’t even looked at her.

But his grip on the wheel was tight, fingers white-knuckled against the leather. Driving because he had to, because movement meant survival.

It was something she understood far too well.

Her gaze flickered to the backseat.

Alexey. Misha. Valeria. Peter. Igor.

They sat too still.

Not asleep, not even relaxed.

Just… waiting.

For what?

Orders?

For her to tell them what to do?

Her stomach twisted.

Because she didn’t have an answer.

She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to stay calm.

One step at a time.

“Как долго мы можем ехать?” she asked, voice steady.

How long can we keep driving?

James didn’t look at her, but he answered. Quiet. Flat. Controlled.

“Четыре-пять часов.”

Four to five hours.

Shikako nodded. That was something.

Not a destination.

But a timeline.

She turned back to the others. “Нам нужно место, чтобы спрятаться. Где-нибудь тихое.”

We need a place to hide. Somewhere quiet.

No one spoke.

Then, finally—

Misha tilted his head. “Граница.”

Border.

Shikako’s breath caught.

That… was actually a good idea.

If they could cross into another country, they could throw HYDRA off their trail. Make it harder for them to track where they went.

She turned to the others. “Ближайшая граница?”

Nearest border?

A pause.

Then—quiet, certain:

“Латвия.”

Latvia.

Shikako clenched her jaw. Not ideal, but better than nothing.

She looked back at James.

“Мы поедем в Латвию.”

We go to Latvia.

No arguments.

No hesitation.

Just silent agreement.

And so, with nowhere else to go, they drove toward the border.

Five hours had passed since they left the labs.

They still had half a tank of gas—which meant another five hours of driving was possible.

But they hadn’t stopped.

Hadn’t eaten.

The bag of food she had bought sat untouched, except for what little they had forced themselves to eat earlier. But none of them had reached for more.

Not even her.

Shikako knew hunger. She had been trained to suppress it, to push past exhaustion and pain and weakness until the mission was complete.

And these six?

They had been trained even harsher.

So no one said anything.

No one complained.

But that didn’t mean they weren’t feeling it.

Her fingers curled against her thigh. They were still too close to HYDRA. Too close to stop.

They had to keep going.

But the border?

Latvia was still too far.

Shikako shifted, glancing at James.

His hands were too tight on the wheel.

His shoulders locked.

He hadn’t spoken since their last exchange, hadn’t done anything but drive.

But he was James, not Bucky.

Not the Winter Soldier.

And that meant he needed rest.

She licked her lips. Careful. Measured. Then—

"Ты должен отдохнуть."

You need to rest.

James didn’t react.

Didn’t even look at her.

She tried again. Stronger.

"Ты не можешь вести машину вечно."

You can’t drive forever.

Still nothing.

Shikako clenched her jaw.

Then—a different approach.

She turned her head, met his eyes in the reflection of the window.

And, steady as she could manage, she switched languages.

“James.”

His hands jerked.

Not much.

But enough.

Enough to tell her he was listening.

Shikako didn’t push.

Didn’t demand.

Just waited.

And finally—finally—he exhaled.

Low. Tense. Controlled.

But when he spoke, his voice was flat. Almost resigned.

"Ты умеешь водить?"

Do you know how to drive?

Shikako let out a breath.

"Да."

Yes.

It had been a while.

But she could.

And so, without another word, they switched seats.

The gas gauge dipped lower.

Not empty yet. But close enough to be a problem.

Shikako clicked her tongue, scanning the road ahead. They needed to stop before they ran out completely.

A gas station appeared in the distance—small, isolated, but open.

Perfect.

She pulled the SUV into the lot, keeping her expression blank.

“Мы остановимся здесь.”

We’re stopping here.

No one argued.

No one ever argued.

And maybe that was what unsettled her most.

She glanced at James. His eyes were half-lidded, not quite asleep but close.

That was good.

She stepped out, flicking through hand seals.

She activated a minor genjutsu on the car.

And a Henge on herself.

Her face shifted. Nothing dramatic, just different enough to slip past recognition.

Would it work on cameras?

She didn’t know.

Shikako exhaled slowly, steadying herself. It would have to be enough.

She stepped inside the gas station, ignoring the weak overhead lights and the smell of cheap coffee.

She needed:

• Paper. For sealing. No more unnecessary stops.

• Food. Not much, but enough to last.

• A map. Because Latvia was still far, far away.

She moved quickly, gathering supplies, keeping her posture loose and natural. She wasn’t suspicious. She wasn’t rushing.

Just a traveler.

Just someone passing through.

No one even looked at her.

Still, she kept a careful ear on the cashier.

No radio chatter. No calls.

So far, so good.

She paid in cash—clean bills from the last car they stole—and walked back out, loading everything into the SUV.

Then, finally, she filled the tank.

They wouldn’t stop again.

Not until they were far, far away.

Shikako worked fast.

Gas stations were too public. Cameras, passing cars, too many chances for someone to remember her.

She couldn’t afford that.

She filled the tank normally, moving with deliberate ease. Nothing to draw attention. Just a traveler getting fuel.

Then, once the nozzle clicked—

She palmed a blank paper from her bag.

Her fingers moved quickly, drawing the necessary symbols. Not ink—too slow. Just her chakra, precise and controlled, forming kanji along the paper’s surface.

A simple seal. One to store liquid.

Not as refined as something a proper fuinjutsu master would make, but it would hold.

She pressed the paper to the side of the SUV, funneled the remaining gas inside.

The numbers on the pump stopped ticking, and the tank stayed full.

More than enough to last.

Shikako rolled the paper shut.

No more unnecessary stops.

No more risks.

She climbed back into the driver’s seat.

No one spoke.

No one questioned her.

They just watched.

Waiting.

She exhaled and started the car.

They had everything they needed.

Except a plan.

Shikako kept her eyes on the road, fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel.

The border was still far, but they needed to start thinking about it now.

Because while they dont know how to human, they had training.

And whatever HYDRA had done to them, they still knew how to infiltrate.

She took a slow breath. Then, without looking away from the road—

"Как нам пересечь границу?"

How do we cross the border?

No hesitation.

Alexey spoke first, voice level. Cold.

“Открытые пограничные переходы невозможны. Камеры. Проверки. Регистрации.”

Open border crossings are impossible. Cameras. Checks. Registration.

Misha, younger but no less trained, followed up.

“Легковые автомобили слишком заметны. Лучше грузовики. Поезда.”

Passenger cars are too noticeable. Trucks are better. Trains.

Valeria folded her arms. “Поддельные документы?”

Fake documents?

Shikako clicked her tongue. “Нет.”

No.

They didn’t have the resources for that.

Not fast enough. Not clean enough.

“Мы могли бы пересечь нелегально. Через лес. Или реку.” Peter suggested.

We could cross illegally. Through the forest. Or a river.

Igor—silent, but always listening—finally spoke.

“Какая граница? Охраняемая или нет?”

What kind of border? Guarded or not?

Shikako grinned.

That was the right question.

She parked the car in the side of the road and put on another genjutsu.

She reached for the map, spreading it over the console.

"Давайте узнаем."

Let’s find out.

The map was old, creased and worn, but it would do.

Shikako traced a finger over the Latvian border.

"Вот. Это основные контрольно-пропускные пункты."

Here. These are the main checkpoints.

The others leaned in.

They didn’t know how to be people.

But they knew how to analyze a mission.

Valeria’s eyes flickered over the map, sharp and calculating. “Здесь слишком много камер.”

Too many cameras here.

Alexey pointed at another section. “Высокий трафик. Слишком много свидетелей.”

High traffic. Too many witnesses.

Peter frowned. “Природные границы? Река? Лес?”

Natural borders? River? Forest?

Shikako nodded. “Есть лесные зоны здесь и здесь.”

There are forested areas here and here.

Misha narrowed his eyes. “Дроны? Тепловизоры?”

Drones? Thermal imaging?

Shikako hesitated. She didn’t know.

James—silent until now—spoke.

“Охрана слабее на побочных маршрутах. Но ночью. Не днём.”

Security is weaker on side routes. But at night. Not during the day.

The others immediately adjusted their thinking.

"Тогда ждём темноты." Alexey confirmed.

Then we wait for darkness.

Shikako let out a breath.

They had a plan. Not perfect, but better than nothing.

"Лесная зона. Ночью. Без машин."

Forest zone. At night. No vehicles.

The five soldiers nodded as one.

Shikako almost laughed.

Even now, they moved like a unit.

But this time?

They weren’t following HYDRA’s orders.

They were choosing to follow her.

And that?

That made all the difference.

The plan was set.

They’d cross at night, through the forest.

No roads. No cameras.

But that meant—

“Машину нужно оставить.”

We need to ditch the car.

No one argued.

Alexey just nodded, already scanning the map. “Лучше всего бросить её в городе. Там украдут. Не найдут.”

Best to leave it in a city. It’ll get stolen. Won’t be traced.

Shikako smirked. Fair point.

If they dumped it in a random ditch, it’d stand out.

But in a city? People stole cars all the time.

James—still quiet, still tense—spoke next.

“Всё, что у нас есть, нужно взять с собой.”

We take everything we have.

Misha frowned slightly. “Запечатанные вещи?”

The sealed things?

Shikako patted the gas paper. “Легко носить.”

Easy to carry.

Valeria leaned back. “Сколько времени до границы пешком?”

How long to the border on foot?

Shikako ran the numbers in her head. At least six hours. Maybe more.

“Скоро узнаем.”

We’ll find out soon.

They drove on.

Heading toward the last city before the border.

Once they left the car?

There’d be no turning back.

Shikako’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel.

She could feel it now—the slow, creeping drag of chakra exhaustion.

Not bad. Not yet.

But the small things were adding up.

The Henge she’d been using. The storage seal for the fuel. The little pulses of chakra she’d been sending into the map to track their location, because she didn’t trust a normal compass. The one she used at the labs.

It wasn’t much.

Not compared to fighting for her life.

But she hadn’t rested. Hadn’t meditated.

Hadn’t done anything to restore what she was losing.

Because she couldn’t afford to.

She pushed it down.

Ignored it.

Because stopping meant giving HYDRA time to catch up.

And she refused.

Her grip on the wheel stayed steady.

She kept driving.

The city passed behind them in a blur of neon lights and busy streets.

Shikako’s mind was focused on one thing: the plan.

They were getting closer to the border. But first, they had to ditch the car.

As they neared the outskirts, Shikako glanced at the others. Her eyes briefly flickered over their clothing—the clothes she had bought.

They looked normal enough.

But she wasn’t fool enough to think it would go unnoticed.

The car they had stolen—the one left abandoned at the gas station—was from the same place they had taken the clothes.

And that meant one thing: they couldn’t keep wearing what they had.

It would make them too easy to track.

She clicked her tongue.

“Нам нужно сменить одежду.”

We need to change clothes.

Alexey shock her a questening look.

Shikako sighed. “Мы купили их в том же месте, где бросили машину. Это слишком рискованно.”

We bought them from the same place we abandoned the car. It's too risky.

The others immediately understood.

Misha gave a sharp nod. “Подойдёт. Сменим.”

Fine. Let’s change.

Shikako slowed the car, pulling off into a small, quiet alleyway near a strip of shops.

“Кто знает что-то о магазинах в этом районе?”

Who knows about any stores around here?

Peter grinned. “Я могу пойти. Никто не заподозрит.”

I can go. No one will suspect me.

Shikako gave him a brief nod. “Хорошо. Тебе не нужно далеко идти.”

Alright. You don’t need to go far.

She didn’t like splitting up, but they couldn’t afford to take too long. Time was slipping away.

Peter went off, and the rest of them stayed put, watching the street.

Shikako leaned back in her seat, trying to ignore the exhaustion beginning to pull at her body again.

She couldn’t stop.

Not now.

Peter returned within minutes, bags in hand. He handed them out, and they quickly changed, slipping into the new clothes.

Nothing flashy. Just enough to blend in.

They were ready.

And with that, they headed toward the last stretch of their journey— forest.

The border was almost within reach, but they had to stay sharp. Stay quiet.

Seven hours.

Seven hours of moving under the cover of night, the chill air biting at their skin.

Shikako’s legs burned. Her feet were sore. The ache of chakra exhaustion was there, tugging at her, whispering for her to stop.

But she couldn’t.

None of them could.

They were all trained for this.

None of them showed signs of exhaustion.

They kept pace, their movements silent, fluid, efficient.

It was like they were running on instinct—no matter how tired, how hungry, or how worn they were, they kept going.

And in the end, it was what made them so deadly.

The forest finally loomed ahead of them, dark trees standing like silent sentinels, blocking out the stars above.

Shikako slowed the pace as they neared the tree line, moving into the shadows.

"Это лес. Отсюда мы идем дальше."

This is the forest. We move on from here.

No one needed to be told twice.

The forest was dense, the trees thick and winding, providing natural cover. They could disappear into it, but the real challenge was what came next.

“Берем укрытие на несколько часов. С утра двигаемся дальше.”

We take cover for a few hours. We move again at dawn.

There was a brief silence. The others settled in with little words, picking places to hunker down as best they could in the thick underbrush. Shikako settled into a small hollow between two trees, leaning back against the rough bark, finally allowing herself a moment to breathe.

They were close now. Too close to stop.

But for the first time in hours, Shikako let her mind wander—just for a second. The exhaustion began to creep in fully now, gnawing at her focus.

She had done everything she could.

Now, she had to trust that it was enough.

Shikako leaned back against the rough bark of the tree, staring at the dark expanse of forest around her. The sounds of the night—whispers of wind, distant rustling of animals—muffled the thoughts that kept swirling in her mind.

Her fingers brushed the ground, tracing the edges of her shadow. The cool, familiar energy of it surged through her hand.

It felt the same.

But this wasn’t Konoha.

This was the MCU.

And that realization felt like a weight in her chest.

How did she end up here?

The question wasn’t new. She’d asked it countless times in her own mind.

In Naruto, she had come as a baby—a newborn in a world she didn’t belong to, but still, it felt like a second chance. A way to live a life and grow into herself. But here?

Here, she had been taken.

Her breath caught, the remnants of that lab still fresh in her mind.

At least back in Naruto, she had been her own person—

But in this world?

She had no idea what had happened. Why she had been dragged into this mess. Why this MCU reality even existed for her.

Shikako glanced at the shadows around her again.

Her shadow.

The one that had never failed her.

It wasn’t the first time she had felt this disconnection. The memories of before this one were… fuzzy.

Her childhood. Her past.

Why did her memories about before suddenly feel so much sharper?

It all felt so vivid now.

Too vivid.

It didn’t make sense.

She wasn’t supposed to remember so much—not this clearly.

Her fingers tightened on the ground, the shadows around her writhing just slightly, almost in response.

Was this a side effect of whatever had happened when she ended up here? Was it part of the HYDRA experiments?

No.

She couldn’t focus on that.

Right now, the only thing that mattered was the border.

Her shadow flickered once more, and she stood, pushing the thoughts aside. They’d rest for a few hours. Then, come dawn, they would move again.

Shikako shook her head, forcing herself to push the thoughts aside. There was no time for this.

She couldn’t afford to get caught up in questions she couldn’t answer. Not now.

She glanced at the others, still sprawled in the small clearing, each of them huddling against the cold in silence. They didn’t need to talk. They didn’t need to say anything.

They were trained to survive.

Trained to keep moving, to do what needed to be done.

It was almost… easier that way.

Shikako pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and closed her eyes, allowing the night to settle in around her. The exhaustion tried to pull her under, but she kept herself awake.

Just for a while longer.

Her breath slowed as she listened to the sounds of the forest, the soft whisper of wind between the branches.

Everything felt distant.

She could feel the others still out there, alert, not resting too deeply. They wouldn’t—not yet.

They were waiting for the sign, for the moment they could start moving again, taking advantage of the cover of darkness as much as possible.

Shikako took a deep breath, letting the night calm her mind, and let the thoughts about HYDRA, the past, and memories drift away.

Because right now, all that mattered was what came next.

Shikako’s eyes snapped open. No more waiting.

The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting eerie shadows on the ground, but she didn’t care. She could move just fine in the dark.

Her fingers brushed the earth, grounding herself, before she rose to her feet, slipping quietly into the shadows of the trees.

The others were already stirring, sensing her intent.

Without a word, they began to move.

No lights. No sound. Just the steady, silent movement of seven people who had been trained for this.

They had to keep the pace steady—no rushing. They couldn’t afford to get too far ahead or too far behind.

Shikako led the way, her instincts guiding her, her shadow already stretching out in front of her.

The night was her domain after all.

The forest was dense, but that wasn’t an issue.

She had spent years navigating forests worst than this one.

She didn’t need the map, didn’t need the moonlight. Her eyes adjusted, her senses sharper, every step calculated and controlled.

Every crack of a twig beneath their feet, every rustle of leaves, was heard by the trained ears of the group.

They were moving quickly, but still—carefully.

The border was close.

But the more Shikako thought about it, the more her mind started racing again. They still had to cross into another country—even if they managed to sneak through the forest, they’d still need a way to get past guards and potential checkpoints.

But for now, all that mattered was the dark.

They kept moving, their pace quickening as the edge of the forest came into view.

Shikako felt the weight of their footsteps behind her, but for a moment, it felt like it was just her—her, and the shadows around them, the weight of the night urging them forward.

They were leaving everything behind.

Everything.

Hours passed, and the forest began to thin out. The sounds of rustling leaves and snapping branches faded as they reached the edge, where the trees gave way to a clearing that stretched toward the unseen border.

Her eyes scanned the terrain, noting the faint signs of human activity—the way the dirt had been disturbed, the occasional marker on the trees.

Shikako slowed her pace, signaling the others to stop. They had to be careful now.

The forest had provided cover, but beyond it? There were no guarantees.

“Мы почти на месте. Держитесь рядом.”

We’re almost there. Stay close.

The others, silent as always, nodded, sticking close to her as they made their way through the final stretch.

The border wasn’t visible yet.

Shikako kept her senses on high alert. The slightest movement could betray them. They couldn’t afford to make a sound, couldn’t afford to make any more mistakes.

She glanced over her shoulder.

Alexey, Peter, Valeria, Misha, Igor—they were focused, eyes scanning the area, staying alert. They weren’t showing signs of fatigue, but Shikako could feel the exhaustion pressing in. They had been walking for hours, and even the most trained soldiers needed rest eventually.

She glanced at James. He was moving quietly beside her, his jaw set, the same tension in his shoulders.

Shikako nodded. They’d made it this far.

No turning back now.

They reached the edge of the clearing, where the trees started to break away into a narrow path leading toward the border checkpoint. It wasn’t heavily guarded, but it was still dangerous.

This was where they would have to make their final push.

“Оставим все, что у нас есть. Поднимемся и будем двигаться быстро.”

Leave everything we don’t need. We move fast.

Shikako gave a final glance around the forest, her breath steady despite the growing pressure. She could feel the energy of the others, their quiet resolve radiating in the cool night air.

They were ready.

This is the forest. Here we’ll lose them.

She took a deep breath.

“Пошли.”

Let’s go.

They moved quickly, slipping through the narrow path, their feet barely making a sound. The border was close.

The trees thinned, the forest floor giving way to open terrain.

Shikako’s heart pounded steadily, not from fear—from focus.

They were close. Too close to get careless now.

Ahead, the land sloped downward into a shallow valley, where a thin metal fence stretched across the landscape. Not the high, electrified barriers of a major checkpoint—just a simple boundary line, likely with motion sensors, maybe cameras.

Still, it was enough to be a problem.

Shikako crouched behind a fallen tree, gesturing for the others to do the same. They obeyed immediately, sinking into the shadows without a word.

James knelt beside her, gaze sharp as he scanned the area.

She leaned in slightly. “Датчики? Камеры?”

Sensors? Cameras?

His jaw tightened. “Вероятно. И патруль.”

Probably. And a patrol.

Of course.

Shikako exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to the earth. Shadows stretched beneath her fingertips.

If there were sensors, she could try to disrupt them. If there were cameras, they’d have to be avoided entirely.

But the real issue? The patrol.

“Как часто они проходят?” Alexey asked.

How often do they pass?

Valeria studied the terrain for a moment, then murmured, “Десять—пятнадцать минут между обходами.”

Ten to fifteen minutes between rounds.

Shikako’s mind worked fast.

That was enough time.

They could clear the fence and disappear into Latvia before the next patrol came through.

If nothing went wrong.

She turned to the others. “Один за другим. Не останавливайтесь. Не оглядывайтесь. Быстро.”

One by one. Don’t stop. Don’t look back. Fast.

Peter nodded. “Мы начнем.”

We’ll start.

She watched as he moved first, slipping through the grass like a ghost.

No alarm.

No movement.

Clear.

One by one, they followed—silent, efficient, deadly in their control.

Misha. Valeria. Alexy. Igor.

Then it was James.

He hesitated for just a moment, glancing at her.

Not in doubt.

Just… acknowledgment.

Then he was gone, vanishing over the fence.

Shikako inhaled sharply.

Her turn.

She surged forward, feet barely making a sound against the earth. Her shadow curled around her ankles, helping her move faster, quieter.

The fence loomed.

She vaulted over it in one motion, chakra light against her feet—

And then she was on the other side.

They had crossed.

She landed in a crouch, immediately scanning the area.

No alarms.

No patrol in sight.

They had made it.

But they didn’t stop moving. Not yet.

Crossing the border had been one thing. Staying undetected was another.

Shikako kept her breathing steady as they moved deeper into Latvian territory, slipping through the dark countryside like ghosts.

They couldn’t stay here for long.

HYDRA wasn’t stupid. They would look.

They wouldn’t assume their test subjects had just disappeared into thin air. Borders could be watched. Checkpoints would be checked.

But that was a problem for later.

For now, they needed cover.

A place to rest.

A place to think.

A place to figure out what the hell came next.

Igor took the lead now,. He knew how to find safe places, how to disappear. It was something they all knew how to do.

After about 14 hours of walking, they found an abandoned structure—something that might have been an old farmhouse, long since forgotten. The windows were broken, the door barely hanging onto its hinges.

Perfect.

Shikako stepped inside first, scanning the area. No signs of life. No fresh footprints. No traps.

It would do.

She turned to the others.

“Остаемся здесь. Не долго. Просто отдохнуть.”

We stay here. Not for long. Just to rest.

No one argued.

They were tired. Even if none of them showed it.

They slipped inside, taking positions automatically—corners, exits, places where they could watch the surroundings.

Even now, after everything, they still moved like soldiers.

Shikako exhaled, slumping against the wall, feeling the weight of chakra exhaustion press down harder than before.

She wouldn’t sleep.

Not yet.

But for now, at least, they could breathe.

James sat near the door, his back against the frame, half-shadowed by the dim moonlight.

Peter and Misha had taken the farthest corners, Valeria checked the broken windows for possible weak points, and Alexey and Igor remained near the center, both listening for the slightest disturbance.

No one slept.

Shikako hadn’t expected them to.

They had escaped. But escaping wasn’t freedom.

They all knew that.

After a while, James shifted slightly, glancing at her. His expression was unreadable.

She raised an eyebrow.

“Ты должен отдохнуть.” he murmured.

You should rest.

Shikako let out a breath, shaking her head. “Позже.”

Later.

James didn’t argue. He just nodded once, looking back at the door.

They couldn’t stay in Latvia for long.

Maybe a few days. At most.

HYDRA would be searching for them. And even if they weren’t found immediately, they needed a plan. They couldn’t just keep running blindly.

Shikako closed her eyes for a moment.

They couldn’t stay in Latvia.

Latvia was too close. Too obvious.

They needed to keep moving.

She exhaled slowly, rubbing her temple. Another country. But which one?

Mishs was already ahead of her. “Мы не можем оставаться здесь. Куда дальше?”

We can’t stay here. Where next?

Shikako didn’t answer right away. She turned to the others instead.

“Варианты?”

Options?

A beat of silence. Then—

“Мы угоняем самолёт.” Igor spoke

We hijack a plane.

Shikako’s breath caught.

The others didn’t react—

Because to them?

It made perfect sense.

Fastest way out. Furthest distance. 

Alexey nodded. “Меньше границ. Меньше шансов быть пойманными.”

Fewer borders. Fewer chances to be caught.

Valeria folded her arms. “Маленький самолёт. Не коммерческий.”

A small plane. Not commercial.

Peter leaned forward. “Частный аэропорт. Что-то с короткой взлётной полосой.”

A private airport. Something with a short runway.

Misha exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “И пилот?”

And the pilot?

Igor’s expression didn’t change. “Мы разберёмся.”

We’ll handle it.

Shikako’s mind raced.

It was insane.

It was dangerous.

But… it could work.

If they took a small plane—something private, something fast—they could be out of Europe before HYDRA even knew where to look.

James met her gaze. Waiting.

He wasn’t arguing. He was letting her decide.

Shikako exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through her hair.

"Самолёт."

A plane.

Shikako didn’t reject the idea immediately.

Because Igor was right—a plane was the fastest way out.

A plane was the best option.

But also the riskiest.

It would be noticed.

And fast.

A hijacked plane wasn’t like a stolen car. It couldn’t just disappear. The moment it was off course, someone, somewhere, would track it.

And worse? They still didn’t know where they were going.

Shikako rubbed at her temple, inhaling slowly.

“Нет. Это слишком рискованно.”

No. It’s too risky.

Igor frowned, but didn’t argue.

James, however, leaned forward. “Тогда куда?”

Then where?

That was the real question.

They needed to get far.

Europe wasn’t safe. Not for them.

Shikako pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking fast.

No one answered immediately.

Because where do you go when the entire world is a threat?

Igor shifted slightly. “Америка невозможна.”

America is impossible.

Shikako agreed. The U.S. was too risky. Too many eyes, too much security.

“Азия.” Valeria suggested.

Asia.

Shikako frowned.

It was far enough. Big enough. Countries like Russia and China wouldn’t let outsiders just fly in. But Southeast Asia? Maybe.

But it wasn’t far enough.

Not from HYDRA.

Then Alexey spoke.

“Африка.”

Africa.

Shikako blinked.

It… made sense.

Large, unstable regions. Countries with weak air surveillance. Places HYDRA couldn’t easily control.

But also? Too unpredictable. Too many unknowns.

“Канада.” Peter said.

Canada

Shikako froze.

That—

That could work.

If they made it across the Atlantic, they could disappear into a place where HYDRA’s influence wasn’t as strong.

Valeria exhaled. “Как?”

How?

Because a plane was still too obvious.

Shikako closed her eyes, thinking. Fast.

They needed an option that wasn’t just quick—it had to be invisible.

Then—

She had it.

Her eyes snapped open.

"Корабль. Грузовой."

Cargo. Ship.

Alexey’s expression sharpened. “Безопаснее, чем самолёт. Медленнее, но надёжнее.”

Safer than a plane. Slower, but more reliable.

She turned to James.

“Это возможно?”

Is it possible?

He was silent for a moment.

Then—he nodded.

With the plan settled, there was nothing left to do but prepare.

And that started with eating.

Shikako reached for the bag of supplies, pulling out what little food they had left.

It wasn’t much—bread, dried meat, bottled water. Enough to keep them moving, but not comfortably.

She tossed a pack to each one of them.

"Ешьте."

Eat.

There was no hesitation this time.

They ate in silence.

Not slow, not fast. Just efficient.

Because food wasn’t something to enjoy. It was fuel.

Shikako had seen it before—shinobi who ate because they had to, not because they wanted to.

They functioned like soldiers.

Shikako didn’t say anything.

Didn’t try to tell them they could take their time, or that food wasn’t just survival.

Because right now?

That was exactly what it was.

Survival.

Nothing more, nothing less.

She chewed her own food, ignoring the growing weight of exhaustion in her limbs.

They had eaten.

That was enough for now.

Shikako set the empty wrappers aside, rubbing her fingers together to shake off the crumbs.

They had eaten.

Now they had to move.

She pushed herself up, rolling her shoulders to fight the stiffness settling into her muscles. The exhaustion still clung to her, creeping in like a slow poison, but she ignored it.

"Пора идти."

Time to go.

The others didn’t hesitate.

They stood, adjusting their jackets, making sure nothing was left behind.

James was already near the door, scanning the dark landscape outside.

Shikako stepped up beside him, keeping her voice low.

"Как далеко до Таллинна?"

How far to Tallinn?

James exhaled, gaze sharp. “Если у нас будет транспорт — день. Если пешком — дольше.”

If we get transport—one week to two. If on foot—longer.

Shikako hummed. They needed to steal another car.

She turned back to the others.

"Нам нужна машина."

We need a car.

Shikako’s steps were steady as she moved through the darkness, the others following without question.

They needed a car. Again.

But this time, an idea had begun forming in her mind.

Sealing.

If she could seal a vehicle into a scroll, they wouldn’t need to keep stealing new ones. They could carry their escape route with them.

Theoretically, it should work. Fuinjutsu could store objects—large ones, even. She had sealed gas before.

So why not a car?

But…

Her lips pressed together.

Blood.

It would take blood.

For something this large, this complex, she’d need to reinforce the seal, anchor it with something softer than just chakra.

And since she had no Inc.

Amd no sealling paper.

Blood seals were the solution.

But that was a problem for later.

Right now?

They needed to get a vehicle first.

She turned to James, keeping her voice low.

"Где лучше искать?"

Where’s the best place to look?

James didn’t hesitate.

“Промышленные районы. Грузовики, фургоны. Что-то, что не заметят сразу.”

Industrial areas. Trucks, vans. Something that won’t be noticed right away.

Alexey gave a short nod. “Меньше камер. Легче спрятаться.”

Fewer cameras. Easier to hide.

Shikako exhaled, scanning the empty road ahead.

"Тогда найдём что-нибудь."

Then let’s find something.

A few hours later, they found themselves at the Industrial aera.

The industrial area loomed ahead, a patchwork of warehouses, abandoned lots, and dimly lit streets. The silence felt oppressive, the kind of quiet that only came with places forgotten by time.

Shikako motioned for the others to spread out, keeping their distance. They didn’t need to be in a hurry. This wasn’t about speed—it was about efficiency.

They moved like shadows, each of them slipping between buildings, eyes sharp, listening for the slightest sign of movement.

Shikako’s heart was calm. Focused.

She wasn’t thinking about the blood seal yet.

Shikako’s fingers itched for the papers. She wanted to start the process already, but not yet.

First, they had to find a target.

Then, she would decide.

Minutes passed, but finally, Misha’s voice cut through the silence.

“Нашёл.”

Found it.

Shikako nodded, moving toward him.

He stood by a nondescript white van, parked at the far end of the lot, tucked behind a row of crates. The vehicle was perfect—low profile, no obvious signs of tampering, and most importantly, it looked abandoned enough to pass without question.

"Это идеально."

It’s perfect.

Alexei stepped forward. “Как заберем?”

How do we take it?

Shikako glanced over the van, already plotting. It wasn’t anything fancy but it had what they needed.

"Я могу использовать печать, чтобы сохранить его. Но... понадобится немного времени."

I can use a seal to store it. But… it’ll take some time.

James looked over, eyeing the van. “Будет ли это безопасно?”

Will it be safe?

Shikako hesitated for a second.

Yes.

With a blood seal, it would last as long as they needed it to.

But it would require her blood.

And alot of chakra, her chakra has been action weird since the day she came here.

She pushed the thought aside. “Да. Это будет безопасно.”

Yes. It’ll be safe.

The group stayed quiet as Shikako set the plan into motion. She drew a small seal on the ground, focusing her chakra, and with a quick flick of her wrist, the van was sealed into the paper, just like that.

Just like it had never been there at all.

Shikako carefully rolled the paper up, sealing it away for later.

Now, it was time to move.

And they were ready.

Two days of driving.

Peter had done most of the driving, the van now safely sealed, and they were making their way through secluded roads, heading further into Eastern Europe.

It wasn’t the fastest route. It wasn’t even the safest.

But it was working.

The further they got from the border, the less HYDRA would be able to track them.

They had food, water, and a solid plan.

Still, something was pulling at her.

The exhaustion from the seal had started to settle in.

At first, it was subtle—a tingling in her fingers, the faintest pressure behind her eyes. But the more she used the seal to keep the van sealed, the more it drained her.

Usually you only need that one burst of charka at first to keep it inside.

But since this was normal paper and not scrolls specifically made for sealing it needed constant chakra input to keep it in.

It was inevitable.

And using her blood to anchor the seal meant her reserves were depleting faster than usual.

But that was a problem for later.

For now, they had to keep moving.

Shikako shifted in her seat, flexing her fingers as she glanced at the others, who were still quiet, alert. But she could feel it—the weight of the journey catching up to her.

She blinked, rubbing her temple briefly.

James, who had been staring out the window, looked at her. “Ты не устала?”

Aren’t you tired?

Shikako met his gaze. There was something in his eyes—something like understanding. He’d been pushing himself too.

She managed a small smile.

“Не время для отдыха.”

Not time to rest.

She could feel the exhaustion pressing in again, but for now, she’d ignore it.

Because stopping wasn’t an option.

Shikako exhaled, glancing back at the road ahead. Just a little longer.

She could keep going.

They were getting closer to Estonia. Closer to the port.

Which meant it was time to finalize the next part of the plan.

She exhaled, glancing at the others.

"Пора решить, как попасть на судно."

Time to decide how we get on the ship.

Alexey leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Какие у нас варианты?”

What are our options?

Shikako tapped her fingers against the steering wheel.

"Первый вариант—проникнуть на судно до отправления."

First option—sneak onto a ship before departure.

A classic stowaway method. Get into the cargo hold before the ship left port, hide, and wait out the journey.

Peter frowned slightly. “Рискованно. Слишком много людей в порту.”

Risky. Too many people at the port.

Shikako nodded. “Второй вариант—подделать документы. Притвориться частью экипажа или рабочих.”

Second option—fake documents. Pretend to be part of the crew or dock workers.

Misha let out a short huff. “Мы не выглядим как моряки.”

We don’t look like sailors.

Shikako smirked. Fair point.

While she could do that. The other can't.

First option it is.

That made the others pause.

Valeria’s brows furrowed. “Объясни.”

Explain.

Shikako inhaled.

"Если мы узнаем маршрут...."

If we learn the route....

A silence settled over the group.

Because it was crazy.

Because it could work.

James, who had been silent, finally spoke.

“Как ты узнаешь маршрут?”

How will you find the route?

Shikako smirked.

"Мы находим капитана."

We find the captain.

And make him talk.

The plan was simple—find the right ship, find the captain, and get the route.

But execution?

That was the hard part.

They couldn’t just storm into the port and start interrogating people. Too many eyes, too much security. And if HYDRA was still searching for them, they needed to move carefully.

So, they did what they were trained for.

They observed.

For the next few days, they scouted from a distance. Watching. Analyzing. Taking note of which ships were coming and going, which ones had tight security and which ones seemed more relaxed.

James and Alexey focused on the docks, watching how the workers moved.

Misha and Peter listened in on conversations, picking up on any useful details.

Shikako kept track of ship names, schedules, and anything that might point them toward the best target.

By the end of tge second week, they had their answer.

A cargo vessel, scheduled to depart in less than 48 hours.

Destination: Canada.

It was perfect.

Now, they just needed the captain.

Shikako adjusted her jacket, glancing at the others.

"Капитан, скорее всего, остановится в городе перед отправлением."

The captain will likely stop in the city before departure.

Valeria nodded. “Тогда найдём его раньше, чем он найдёт судно.”

Then we find him before he reaches the ship.

James cracked his knuckles.

“Как ты хочешь это сделать?”

How do you want to do this?

Shikako smiled.

"Быстро."

Quickly.

Finding the captain wasn’t hard.

He was exactly where Shikako expected—a quiet bar near the docks, drinking alone, waiting for his ship to be ready.

No guards. No friends.

Perfect.

She moved first. No hesitation.

Shikako’s shadow slithered across the floor, stretching through the dimly lit space until it latched onto his.

The man froze.

His body locked in place, fingers tightening around his glass, eyes widening in alarm.

Too late.

Shikako stepped forward, voice low.

"Вы пойдёте с нами."

You’re coming with us.

James and Alexey moved behind her, flanking the man as they pulled him out of the bar, keeping it quiet. Controlled.

No scene. No struggle.

By the time anyone noticed he was gone, they’d already have what they needed.

The small storage room they dragged him into was damp and dark, the air thick with dust and salt from the nearby ocean.

Shikako crouched in front of the captain, watching as he struggled against the shadow binding him.

“Miks… Mida sa tahad?” he gritted out, voice panicked.

Why… What do you want?

She didn’t answer.

Instead, she lifted her hand, pressing two fingers against his forehead.

The technique was one she had barely used in years—a more-known Yamanaka clan ability.

Not full mind control. Not possession.

Just… influence.

A way to pull out memories, force the mind into compliance.

A lighter form of torture.

Shikako inhaled, letting her chakra thread into his mind, brushing against his thoughts. Not enough to break him.

Just enough to make him weak.

“Маршрут судна. Говори.”

The ship’s route. Talk.

The man gasped, eyes dilating.

Memories flickered beneath her touch—maps, coordinates, port schedules.

She didn’t need to say anything else.

His mind gave her everything.

And when she finally pulled away, the man slumped forward, shaking.

Shikako exhaled.

"Мы закончили."

We’re done.

She stood, wiping her fingers on her jacket.

James stared at her for a moment.

Because he knew.

Sometimes, this was the only way.

Shikako turned to the others, voice firm.

"У нас есть наш путь. Время двигаться."

We have our route. Time to move.

They left the captain where he was—alive, shaken, but unharmed.

No need to kill him.

He won't even remember.

Shikako rubbed at her temple as they walked through the darkened alley, the last traces of her chakra still buzzing beneath her skin.

The mind probe had worked, but she felt it.

Another drain on her reserves. Another weight settling into her bones.

But there was no time to stop.

“Какой план?” Misha asked.

What’s the plan?

Shikako inhaled, exhaled, keeping her voice steady.

"Мы идём к порту. Проникаем на судно за несколько часов до отправления."

We go to the port. Get on board a few hours before departure.

Alexey nodded. “Где укрываемся? Контейнеры?”

Where do we hide? Containers?

“Да.”

Yes.

It was the safest way. Cargo ships were massive. If they could slip into the right container—preferably one that wouldn’t be inspected—they could stay hidden for the entire journey.

Valeria frowned. “Что, если нас найдут?”

What if we’re found?

Shikako smirked slightly.

"Тогда это не будет нашей проблемой."

Then it won’t be our problem.

James huffed—a quiet half-laugh, the closest thing to amusement she’d heard from him.

No one argued.

Because they all knew what she meant.

If someone found them, it wouldn’t matter.

Because by then, the ship would already be at sea.

And there’d be no turning back.

They moved fast, slipping through the shadows, keeping to the quietest routes.

The port wasn’t far now. Just a few more turns.

Shikako’s fingers twitched at her side, ready to grab her seal if needed. The van was still sealed away. They might need it for a last-minute escape.

But she hoped they wouldn’t.

They had their route. They had their plan.

Now, all that was left?

Executing it.

Shikako exhaled slowly as the towering cargo ships came into view.

This was it.

The last step before disappearing completely.

38 hours.

That’s how long they had before the ship sailed.

It wasn’t a lot of time. But it was enough.

They had to be smart. No mistakes.

Shikako pulled them back from the docks, retreating into the quieter parts of the city. They couldn’t stay too close. Too risky.

They needed supplies. Food, water, clothes.

Shikako glanced at the others. “Нам нужно всё подготовить заранее. Если мы на борту, выхода не будет.”

We need everything ready beforehand. Once we’re on board, there’s no way out.

No one argued.

They moved quickly, keeping their heads down, avoiding cameras, avoiding attention.

Shikako took the lead.

She went into a small supply store first, using a quick henge jutsu to dull her features—

She grabbed ration bars, water bottles, protein packs. Things that wouldn’t spoil. Things that would keep them alive in a sealed cargo hold.

She paid in cash she stole from some unsuspecting soul.

Next stop? Clothes.

The ones they had were fine for blending in but terrible for hiding.

Shikako picked up darker outfits, looser fits, things that wouldn’t restrict movement.

More comfortable, more stealthy.

She met James outside the store. He didn’t say anything—just gave her a look.

A silent approval.

She moved to a quiet alley, unrolling a blank paper.

Oh how she missed sealing scrolls.

Her fingers flicked through practiced motions, sealing everything away.

The paper absorbed the weight, her chakra glowing softly before fading.

No bags. No bulk. Just survival, stored away.

She exhaled.

“Готово.”

Done.

Alexey glanced at it. “Долго держится?”

How long will it last?

Shikako rolled the paper back up. “Пока я не использую слишком много чакры.”

As long as I don’t burn through too much chakra.

They were set.

Now, all that was left… was waiting.

Shikako hated waiting.

Waiting meant thinking. Thinking meant overanalyzing. And she was already running on chakra exhaustion, which meant she needed to be careful.

The group found a quiet, abandoned building near the outskirts of the city—nothing fancy, just enough to keep them out of sight.

They settled in, moving in perfect sync.

Valeria and Misha kept watch near the entrance. Alexey checked their surroundings.

James sat by the window, silent as ever, scanning the streets.

Shikako leaned against the wall, rolling the paper scroll between her fingers.

Everything was set.

But something still felt off.

She exhaled, rubbing her temple.

She wasn’t used to feeling this… drained.

Back in Konoha, she had always been careful about chakra reserves—never overextending, always planning ahead.

But here?

Here, she didn’t have the luxury of stopping to recharge.

She could feel the blood seal tugging at her energy, the strain of maintaining it gnawing at the edges of her focus.

But it didn’t matter.

She just had to last a little longer.

James shifted slightly, glancing at her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Что?”

What?

He didn’t answer at first. Just studied her, eyes sharp.

Then—quietly.

“Ты выглядишь хуже, чем думаешь.”

You look worse than you think.

Shikako huffed a laugh. “Спасибо за поддержку.”

Thanks for the support.

James didn’t smile, but his gaze lingered for a moment before turning back to the window.

She sighed, closing her eyes for a second.

Justa little longer.

Once they were on that ship, once they were out of Europe, then she could worry about resting.

For now?

She could still keep going.

The plan had gone off without a hitch.

They had slipped onto the ship hours before departure, weaving through the port like shadows, unseen and unnoticed.

Now, inside the cargo hold, tucked away in an unused container, they were as safe as they could be.

The ship was moving. They were finally leaving Europe.

But Shikako’s work wasn’t done yet.

The moment she settled into a corner of the container, she closed her eyes and breathed.

Deep. Steady.

Her chakra hummed, sluggish but still working.

She had to reinforce the seals.

Keeping the van sealed. Keeping their supplies stable. Making sure nothing unraveled while they were stuck in the middle of the ocean.

She couldn’t afford to let it fail.

So she sank into meditation.

Focusing. Channeling what little energy she had left to stabilize the seals, reinforce their structure, hold everything in place.

The others let her be.

James watched from his spot, silent.

The five former soldiers didn’t question it. They had been trained to recognize maintenance when they saw it.

This was just another form of keeping their weapons ready.

Except this time?

The only thing Shikako was maintaining was herself.

She stayed in that state for as long as she could.

Because they had a long journey ahead.

And she needed to be ready for whatever came next.

The journey from Tallinn to Quebec wasn’t short. It was long. It was cramped. It was uncomfortable.

But they had made it.

Shikako had managed the seals for the entire trip—. Her chakra reserves were thinner than she liked, but the meditation and focus had kept them all alive.

And now?

The ship had docked in Quebec.

They had made it out of Europe, through the open sea, across the Atlantic.

It felt like an impossible feat, but it had worked.

They were no longer on the continent where HYDRA had been searching.

The moment the ship docked, they slipped into the shadows of the port—They moved quickly, leaving the cargo hold.

They were in Canada now.

But they didn’t stop to celebrate.

Shikako checked the horizon, eyes sharp. The port was quieter than they’d expected, which meant fewer risks for them—but also fewer places to hide.

She quickly checked her surroundings. "Скоро мы уходим. Нам нужно найти укрытие."

Soon, we’re leaving. We need to find shelter.

James nodded, looking around the port. "Что дальше?"

What’s next?

Shikako straightened, already moving. "Переезжаем внутрь. Ищем место для отдыха."

We head inland. Find a place to rest.

The city was loud.

It wasn’t like the quiet shadows of Eastern Europe, where people spoke in hushed tones.

Here?

Here, everything was bright, bustling, alive.

And everyone was speaking French.

Shikako frowned as they walked through the streets, keeping their heads down. She knew English, and Japanese. She wasn't sure how she knew Russian but she could speak it. But French?

Not so much.

She could pick out a few words from old academy lessons, from books, but nothing that helped her understand what the hell was going on.

James and the others weren’t much better. They were trained in Russian and English, but French?

Alexey exhaled through his nose, watching people pass by. “Мы выбрали неправильный город.”

We picked the wrong city.

Misha let out a dry chuckle. “Думаешь?”

You think?

Shikako sighed. This was a problem. They needed to buy new supplies, find shelter, and get a plan together—but that was hard to do when they didn’t understand half the signs around them.

She glanced at James. "Ты хоть что-то понимаешь?"

Do you understand anything?

James shook his head. "Нет. Никогда не учил французский."

No. Never learned French.

Great.

Just great.

Shikako ran a hand through her hair, thinking. They needed to move carefully. If they spoke Russian in public, it might draw attention. English was the only option.

They had to be smart.

She exhaled. "Ладно. Ищем магазин, где есть английские вывески. Там разберёмся."

Alright. We find a shop with English signs. We figure things out from there.

James gave a short nod, and the others followed without question.

They weren’t completely out of danger yet. Not by a long shot.

But for now?

They’d take it one step at a time.

Shikako’s mind worked quickly, scanning the area for something—anything—that could help them.

They needed a place to stay, food, and a plan.

They walked through the streets, keeping their heads down, blending in as much as possible.

Then—finally—Misha nudged her shoulder.

“Английский.”

English.

Shikako followed his gaze and spotted it.

A small convenience store. The sign was in both French and English.

Perfect.

She exhaled, rolling her shoulders. "Я разберусь. Оставайтесь снаружи."

I’ll handle it. Stay outside.

James gave her a look but didn’t argue.

Shikako stepped inside, immediately greeted by the hum of an old radio and the smell of cheap coffee.

A middle-aged man stood behind the counter, casually flipping through a newspaper.

She approached carefully.

"Excuse me, do you speak English?"

The man looked up, eyes narrowing slightly before answering, heavily accented but clear enough.

"A little."

Good enough.

Shikako forced a polite smile. "I just need some help with directions. "

The man grunted, setting the newspaper aside. "What are you looking for?"

A cheap place to stay, food, and a way to avoid attention.

But she couldn’t say that outright.

So she kept it simple.

"A hostel or motel. Somewhere quiet."

The man studied her for a moment before nodding. "Two blocks down, turn left. Small motel. Cheap."

Shikako committed it to memory.

"Thank you."

She grabbed a few basic supplies—water, snacks, anything that could last a while. Paid in cash.

Then she left, stepping back into the cold air where the others were waiting.

James raised an eyebrow. "И?"

And?

Shikako exhaled, adjusting the bag in her hands.

"У нас есть место. Оно не шикарное, но лучше, чем улица."

We have a place. Not fancy, but better than the streets.

The others nodded.

Shikako led them toward the motel, keeping her pace steady.

The streets of Quebec were still unfamiliar, but they had a place now. A starting point.

But there was still a problem.

Several, actually.

She glanced back at the group, lowering her voice.

"From now on, we speak English."

Misha frowned. “Why?”

Shikako sighed. “Because Russian stands out. And we can’t afford to stand out.”

Alexey exhaled through his nose but nodded. He understood.

Speaking Russian marked them immediately. It made people pay attention.

They needed to be invisible.

“Short sentences. No accents if you can help it.” James added, his voice low.

They had all learned English at some point probably —training, missions, HYDRA’s programming. But speaking it naturally was different.

Still, none of them argued.

Shikako took a breath. One problem down.

Now the next.

“We need money.”

The supplies she had? Not enough.

Cash wouldn’t last forever. They needed income.

“How?” Valeria asked.

Misha was the one who answered.

“We find work. Or we take it.”

Shikako didn’t flinch.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

They needed a plan. Fast.

For now?

They’d check into the motel, regroup, and figure it out.

The motel was exactly what Shikako expected—cheap, slightly rundown, but quiet.

Perfect.

She walked up to the counter, keeping her expression neutral. The man at the front desk barely looked at her, eyes focused on his phone.

"Room for six. Cash."

The man finally glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Big group."

Shikako forced a small smile. "Family trip."

It wasn’t a great lie, but it didn’t need to be.

She slid the cash over, enough for three nights.

The man shrugged, counting the bills before tossing a keycard onto the counter.

"Room 207. End of the hall."

Shikako nodded, grabbing the key before heading back outside to the others.

She kept her voice low. "We have three nights. After that, we need a real plan."

James took the key, leading the way up the stairs.

The room was small—two double beds, two questionable couches, a kitchenette and a tiny bathroom.

But it was safe.

For now.

They dropped their bags, immediately checking exits, windows, any security risks.

Old habits didn’t die easily.

Once they were sure it was secure, Shikako leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

"Alright. We have a place. Now we deal with the money problem."

Alexey sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling. "Work or theft. Those are the options."

Misha smirked. "You mean legal or illegal."

Shikako sighed. "Both have risks."

Legal work? They had no IDs, no background records.

Theft? Too much attention.

James, still near the door, finally spoke.

"What about underground fights?"

Everyone turned to him.

Shikako blinked. "You want to fight for money?"

James shrugged. "We have skills. We use them."

A beat of silence.

Then Valeria smirked. "It’s not the worst idea."

Shikako exhaled, rubbing her temple.

They were dangerous people in a world that wouldn’t accept them.

And they needed money fast.

She looked at James. "Do you know where to find these fights?"

He nodded. "I can find them."

Shikako sighed.

Fighting for money.

It wasn’t ideal.

But nothing about their situation was.

Shikako sat on the motel bed, arms crossed, watching as James leaned against the wall, already thinking ahead.

"You sure about this?" she asked.

James didn’t even blink. "It’s the fastest way to get cash."

And that was true.

Valeria tilted her head. "How do we get in?"

James finally pushed off the wall.

"I’ll find it. Underground circuits always exist. We just need the right people."

Shikako sighed.

They didn’t have a better plan. And they needed cash fast.

She stood, rolling her shoulders.

"Fine. Find a fight. Win. Get paid. Move forward."

James nodded once.

Shikako didn’t go with them.

It had been almost five months since they had escaped HYDRA, and while she wasn’t naïve enough to think they were safe, she trusted them.

She didn’t need to watch over their shoulders every second.

James and Alexey knew how to find the fights. They knew how to survive in places like that.

She trusted them.

She trusted James. Trusted Alexey, Misha, Valeria, Peter, and Igor.

She didn’t follow James and Alexey as they left to track down the underground fighting rings. She didn’t watch over Misha and Peter as they scouted escape routes, in case things went wrong.

She stayed in the motel.

Because she didn’t need to control everything.

Because they could handle this.

Valeria stayed behind too, sitting near the window, watching the streets below.

After a while, she spoke.

"Тебе не нравится сидеть на месте."

You don’t like staying still.

Shikako huffed a quiet laugh. "Я привыкла координировать."

I’m used to running point.

Valeria shrugged. "Ты можешь позволить им работать. Они справятся."

You can let them handle it. They’ll manage.

Shikako sighed. She knew that.

She just wasn’t used to stepping back.

But she was learning.

She closed her eyes, leaning back against the couch.

A few days passed, and with that came progress.

James and Alexey returned to the motel, heavily pocketed with cash, their clothes a bit more disheveled than usual—proof of their hard-earned fight winnings.

Shikako didn’t need to ask how the fights had gone. She could see it in the way their eyes lit up with the adrenaline of having secured money for the next steps.

"Сколько?" she asked, her voice steady.

How much.

Alexey grinned, tossing a wad of cash onto the table. "Достаточно."

Enough.

Shikako nodded, already starting to sort through the bills.

They couldn’t stay in Quebec forever. But with this money, they could start to build new lives.

New identities.

Igor and Peter worked quietly in the corner, already setting up the fake documents—driver’s licenses, passports, and other essentials.

Shikako turned to help, but she couldn’t focus entirely.

She had something else to handle.

James.

He was sitting near the window, the clank of his metal arm making an unusual sound.

It needed maintenance.

Shikako stood and approached him, watching as he absentmindedly adjusted the mechanical arm’s joints, testing its movement.

His fingers, usually so sharp and precise, struggled against the stiffness of the arm’s internal mechanisms.

Shikako knelt beside him, inspecting it closely.

"Let me help."

James didn’t look at her but nodded. "Alright. It’s getting a bit stiff."

She rolled up her sleeves, pulling the necessary tools from her bag. It wasn’t much, but she knew the basics. Tuning it. Greasing the joints. Ensuring the arm moved smoothly.

Her fingers were quick and steady, working the intricate mechanisms with ease.

James let her do the work, his expression unreadable, but she could feel the underlying tension in his posture.

"Better?" Shikako asked, glancing up at him.

"Yeah."

He flexed his fingers, the arm moving more fluidly now. "Thanks."

Shikako didn’t answer immediately, focusing on tightening a final screw.

"I’ve had worse." He added, as if reading her mind.

She finished with the arm and stood up. "I know."

It had been months since they first arrived in Quebec.

Since then, the group had moved multiple times, bouncing between different cities—always staying under the radar, always moving forward.

But now?

They had found something stable.

A house.

Not a large mansion, but a quiet suburban home on the edge of a small town. It was the kind of place where people didn’t ask questions, where time passed slowly, unnoticed.

Shikako stood at the kitchen window, watching as the others settled into their new lives—new identities.

James was working on the van outside, the rumble of the engine steady as he made adjustments. Alexey was setting up a small area in the living room, carefully sorting through some supplies, and Peter was organizing their new personal records. They had fake names now, real enough to get by in a place where no one was looking for them.

Everything was different.

And for the first time in months, Shikako could breathe.

Igor and Valeria were off doing their own thing—handling any loose ends and keeping their distance, just as they had been since their arrival. But everyone had found their place.

Shikako closed her eyes for a moment. They had made it.

She let herself feel it—the relief that had been building for so long.

They had survived.

And now, they had a chance to live.

Shikako was walking through the town one afternoon, her hands in her pockets, letting the warm sun wash over her.

She had found peace here, in the routine of everyday life.

She passed by a small café, glancing at the people laughing, chatting.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her out of her thoughts. She pulled it out, checking the message from James.

Everything’s good here. How are you feeling?

She smiled to herself. It felt like a lifetime ago that they were running, always looking over their shoulders.

Better.

Her reply was simple, but true.

For the first time in a long while, she felt like maybe—just maybe—they could stop running.

It had been several years since they’d settled into their quiet life in Canada. The routine of normality had become almost comforting—

But not for Shikako.

For her, there was always the gnawing need to return.

Back to Konoha. Back to the place where her life had started, where her family was. Back to everything that had made her who she was.

But getting there wasn’t as simple as wishing.

Shikako had spent years studying different methods of dimensional travel—researching, experimenting, trying to piece together fragments of the magic, chakra, and theories she’d gathered over the years.

She had found some clues.

But the question was: How could she open a portal to another world?

It wasn’t just a matter of sealing the van, or stowing away in a cargo hold. This was different. This was a whole new dimension.

She sat at her desk, scribbling notes, trying to organize the chaos in her mind.

“Theory 71... Reality distorting techniques. Chakra distortion. Testing limits of space-time.” she muttered to herself, tapping her pen against the paper.

A soft knock on the door broke her concentration.

It was James, standing in the doorway, his arms folded. “Still at it?”

Shikako leaned back in her chair, letting out a tired sigh. “Yeah. I have to go back. I need to go back to Konoha. But I don’t know how."

He stepped into the room, lowering his arms. “We’ve talked about this. If it’s dangerous—”

“I know.” She cut him off, her voice firm. “But I can feel it. I know there’s a way. I just have to figure it out.”

James studied her for a moment, then nodded. “We’re with you. Whatever it takes.”

She smiled, the weight of his support grounding her.

Shikako turned back to her papers, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. She would find a way back.

Because Konoha was her home. And she wouldn’t stop until she was there again.

She muttered to herself, scribbling down the latest part of her theory. In the past few months, she had come across an obscure paper by a physicist theorizing about wormholes and alternate realities.

Shikako was certain the answer lay somewhere between chakra manipulation and quantum mechanics.

The key was to understand how chakra interacted with this physical world. The energy had to be more than just an internal power—it was part of the fabric of reality itself.

Her fingers hovered over a diagram of a spiraling wormhole, similar to the descriptions she had read about. According to the theoretical physicists, wormholes were shortcuts through the fabric of spacetime, potentially opening paths to other dimensions.

"Space-time distortion using chakra..." she muttered, writing a new equation on the board.

She reached for her notes on chakra control. She’d always been able to manipulate her chakra in ways that affected the physical world—

If she could amplify that—using both chakra and the principles of quantum tunneling—she might be able to create a stable bridge.

She was thinking about it all wrong. She had been trying to use chakra as the starting point of the travel, but maybe it was better to think of it as the catalyst.

Using chakra as the triggering mechanism to manipulate the space around her, essentially creating a breach in the fabric of reality.

"Not a doorway. A fold."

She scribbled the word onto the paper. Fold the space. Make it collapse in on itself, like the folds of a paper bringing distant points together.

Her breath quickened as she put together more of the theory. If she could compress the space between the worlds enough, the quantum fluctuations might create a temporary bridge. But she’d have to reinforce it—maintaining it with chakra.

But there was something else.

She stopped and stared at the board for a moment. Something was missing.

Shikako sat back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. The hours had blurred together, the equations and diagrams filling up more and more of the walls around her.

She was so close. So close.

Her thoughts had been spiraling for days around the theory—chakra, quantum physics, space-time manipulation—but there was one part she couldn’t wrap her head around. The missing piece.

She needed more than just chakra. She needed a pure source of energy, something capable of breaking through the fabric of reality itself.

At first, she’d thought chakra itself would be enough. She had always relied on it as a force for manipulation, whether it was for jutsu or for seals. But after the endless calculations and trials, she realized something crucial. Chakra was powerful, but it wasn’t enough to break open a rift.

It was energy, yes—but it wasn’t pure enough to create a stable dimensional portal.

Her mind wandered back to everything she had studied—other realms, quantum mechanics, the fabric of the universe. What was the one thing that could fold reality? What could bridge worlds with the force necessary to tear through dimensions?

It had to be something pure.

And then it hit her.

The purest form of energy was light.

She stood up, pacing around the room, muttering to herself as the pieces clicked together.

Light energy—specifically photonic energy—had been theorized to possess an incredible potential for breaking down and manipulating the space-time continuum. It was the fundamental force in the universe, a force that could exist both as a particle and a wave, bending the rules of what was possible.

Her chakra could act as the catalyst—the spark needed to ignite the portal. But to open it, she would need to infuse it with an energy that could tear through the veil between worlds.

Light.

Photons. Energy.

She grabbed a notebook from her desk, flipping through the pages with quick precision. She had once come across a theory about light’s ability to break through barriers—a phenomenon seen in experiments involving high-energy lasers. In those cases, intense light was used to break through even the toughest barriers of material.

What if she could channel that principle with her chakra?

If she could focus pure energy—light, in this case—through her chakra, then it could create the force needed to manipulate space-time. The energy could act as both the key and the anchor, aligning her chakra with the pure energy of the universe itself.

Her heart raced as she began scribbling down equations again. The light energy would work in tandem with her chakra, amplifying the force of the space-time manipulation.

But there was still another question—how would she collect this pure energy?

Shikako stared at the chalkboard, her fingers gripping the edge of her desk, as her mind raced through possibilities.

She had everything she needed for the theory—chakra as the catalyst, the principles of quantum tunneling, and the mathematical framework for manipulating space-time. But there was still something missing.

She had been trying to combine light energy with her chakra for days now, believing it would be the key. But every attempt had led to failure.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized: light wasn’t something she could simply conjure.

She had tried—directing chakra through small crystals, focusing on pure energy manipulation—but the photons she had hoped would bridge the gap kept dissipating, unable to maintain a stable charge long enough to tear through space.

She slumped into her chair, frustrated. The light was the purest energy, but it wasn’t enough on its own.

Shikako ran her fingers through her hair, exhaling sharply.

Her attempts had left her exhausted. She had poured too much chakra into the experiment, expecting the energy to converge naturally. But it didn’t.

She had tried imbuing chakra into makeshift conduits, but the energy dissipated too quickly. Light—whether from her chakra or external sources—was too fickle.

It wasn’t a problem with the theory.

It was the implementation.

She stood up again, pacing back and forth. There had to be a way to harness light more effectively, but every solution felt incomplete. She needed a way to keep the photons from escaping, a way to contain and amplify them long enough for the rift to open.

But how?

Shikako’s eyes drifted toward the small stack of books on her desk, filled with notes on theoretical physics.

Perhaps, it wasn’t just about the light itself. Perhaps there was something else—some external source of energy she had missed. A way to concentrate the light, make it potent enough to fuel her dimensional gateway.

Her fingers tapped lightly on the desk as an idea began to take shape, but it was a vague thought, not fully formed. Something she could only grasp at, rather than hold onto.

She knew she couldn’t give up. She had to find the missing piece—something to bridge the gap between her chakra and the pure energy she needed.

But for now, all she had was failure.

And that wouldn’t stop her.

Shikako rubbed her eyes, staring at the chalkboard again. The equations seemed to blur together, every attempt at the light manipulation slipping further from her grasp.

She had to figure it out. She couldn’t stop now.

But then—

A soft knock on the door broke her concentration.

Misha’s voice came through, low and steady. “Shikako. It’s time to eat.”

She didn’t respond immediately.

The frustration gnawed at her, but Misha didn’t leave. He knew her well enough by now to not let her drown in her work.

“Shikako. It’s been hours. Take a break.”

Shikako exhaled, letting the weight of her failure press down on her for just a moment. She turned toward the door, finding Misha standing there, arms crossed, eyes knowing but patient.

She wanted to argue. She wanted to say she couldn’t afford to stop. But instead, she just let out a quiet sigh and rubbed her temples.

“Alright. Fine.”

Misha gave her a half-smile. “You’ve been at it too long. Your brain needs food, not just equations.”

Shikako stood up, stretching her back as she walked toward him. She glanced at the cluttered desk one last time, then shrugged.

“I guess I can’t solve the universe on an empty stomach.”

Misha chuckled, stepping aside to let her out of the room. “Exactly.”

They walked together to the small kitchen, where the others were already seated at the table, digging into the simple meal they had prepared. The quiet of the house was comforting, the tension of the day lifting just a little.

Shikako sat down, taking a deep breath and letting the warm scent of food ground her. As she took a bite, she let herself not think about dimensional travel for just a moment.

The silence around the table wasn’t awkward. It was a kind of peaceful stillness, one that came from the understanding they had all built over the years. They were in this together, no matter how far Shikako pushed herself to get back to Konoha.

After they finished eating, Shikako felt a bit lighter. The tension had melted away, just enough for her to focus on something other than the complex theories.

As they cleaned up, Igor sat at the table, a calm expression on his face. He wasn’t doing anything, just observing the rest of them, but Shikako knew his mind was always working.

Then, without a word, Igor reached for a few strands of her hair, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“What are you doing?” Shikako asked, blinking in surprise.

He didn’t answer at first, simply starting to weave her hair into a braid, his hands moving deftly.

“I like braiding hair. It’s calming.”

Shikako didn’t protest. Igor had always had a quiet, almost gentle side to him that contrasted sharply with his fierce training and strength.

As he worked, Shikako relaxed back into her chair, letting him braid her hair, the movement slow and soothing. She could feel the cool air of the room around her, but the simple act of having someone take care of her hair made her feel at peace, if only for a moment.

It wasn’t long before James, who had been sitting by the window, turned around to see what Igor was doing.

“Don’t look at me like that.” James muttered, trying to hide his bemusement.

Igor didn’t miss a beat, his hands moving with skill, then turning to James. “You need a braid too. It’s good for relaxation.”

James raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

But Igor was already working on his hair, braiding it without hesitation. Shikako couldn’t help but smile at the quiet ease with which Igor took care of them. The world might have been harsh and uncertain, but this? This was a peaceful moment.

And for once, Shikako allowed herself to enjoy it. In this moment, they were just... here.

It didn’t need to be anything more.

Shikako stood in the kitchen, chopping fruits, while Igor and James sat at the table. Igor was still working on braiding James's hair, his fingers moving deftly through the strands. James, typically gruff, was actually enjoying it, sitting back with his arms crossed, not a word of protest in sight. It was a side of him Shikako hadn’t seen much, and it made her smile to see him like this.

Across the room, Misha and Alexey were on the couch, arguing over the remote control as they flipped between channels, while Valeria leaned against the doorway, watching the two with an amused smirk. It was a strange kind of normal, one Shikako never thought she’d experience.

"You could at least let me pick the channel once in a while, Misha," Alexey grumbled, but his tone was more playful than irritated.

Misha rolled his eyes, throwing himself back into the couch. "You always pick the most boring things, Alexey."

Shikako chuckled, shaking her head as she stirred the pot on the stove. "You two sound like an old married couple," she teased.

Alexey raised an eyebrow. "We’re not that bad, are we?"

Misha grinned, his voice deadpan. "I’m just waiting for him to start offering me advice about 'the good old days.'"

Valeria snorted, walking past the kitchen. "Just wait until you’re both arguing over the remote for the hundredth time."

Meanwhile, Igor finished his task, letting James’s now-braided hair fall perfectly down his back. James seemed surprised at how comfortable the whole thing felt. "Alright," he said, sitting up straight. "Not bad, Igor."

"You look better this way." Igor nodded, satisfied with his work, before moving to get a beer from the fridge.

Shikako wiped her hands on a dish towel and leaned against the counter. "I’m glad you two are getting along."

James nodded, running his hand through his braid again, adjusting it. "Yeah, it’s not bad." He looked around the room, his expression softening as he took in the sight of the others. "Not at all."

The warmth of the room, the soft hum of conversation, the easy comfort between them—it was different. It felt right.

Misha stood up, stretching dramatically. "I’ll cook tomorrow, then."

Shikako raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corner of her lips. "You’re cooking?"

He shrugged, grinning. "Why not? It’s about time I put my skills to use."

"Better not burn the kitchen down, Misha," Valeria teased, leaning against the doorway again.

Shikako smiled.

She took a deep breath, turning back to the sink. "Alright, alright, I’ll let you cook tomorrow."

The evening had been peaceful. Calm.

Shikako was sitting on the couch, flipping through channels while the others lounged around. Dinner had been finished, and for once, everything felt… normal.

And then the news broadcast changed.

The screen lit up with chaos.

New York—burning. Aliens tearing through the city, ships in the sky, explosions in the distance. Civilians running for their lives.

And right in the middle of it all?

Captain America.

Shikako stilled.

A man with a familiar face, wielding a shield with the same colors she had seen in comic books and movie posters.

The room fell silent.

She wasn’t the only one watching.

James—who had been leaning against the table, arms crossed, relaxed—flinched.

Not a big movement.

Just a small twitch, a slight shift in his breathing.

But Shikako noticed.

Because she remembered.

James wasn’t just James.

He was also Bucky Barnes.

And Captain America?

That was Steve Rogers.

Shikako’s fingers curled against her knee as the news continued. The footage replayed, showing Steve standing in the middle of the battle, leading the charge.

The avengers.

James turned away from the screen, his expression blank, but she could see it in his eyes—the recognition.

The memories.

No one said anything at first. They didn’t need to.

The air was thick with something heavy. Something unspoken.

Then, quietly—

Shikako spoke.

"You knew him."

It wasn’t a question.

James didn’t answer immediately. His fingers tightened around the edge of the table, his jaw clenched.

And then—softer than she had ever heard him speak before:

"I did."

Shikako exhaled.

The others didn’t interrupt. Didn’t push.

Because they all understood.

James didn’t speak for the rest of the broadcast.

He just stared—not at the screen, but past it. Like he was seeing something none of them could.

Shikako didn’t push. She didn’t have to.

The news kept replaying the same footage—Steve Rogers, Captain America, standing tall, leading the charge against an alien invasion.

James’s fingers twitched against the table. His breathing was steady, but Shikako could see it—the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched just a little too tight.

Finally, he exhaled.

"I should stay away."

Shikako turned toward him, studying his face. “Do you want to?”

James was silent for a moment. Then, he shook his head.

"I don’t know."

It wasn’t a lie.

It wasn’t the full truth, either.

Shikako sighed, leaning back against the couch. “You miss him.”

James flinched. Just barely.

Then, after a pause—

"I don’t deserve to."

Shikako stilled.

That was it, wasn’t it?

It wasn’t just missing Steve.

It was guilt.

For everything HYDRA had forced him to do.

For all the years that had passed.

For not being the Bucky Barnes that Steve had lost.

James ran a hand down his face, shaking his head. “He thinks I’m dead. It should stay that way.”

Shikako frowned. “But you don’t want it to.”

James didn’t answer.

Didn’t deny it.

Because she was right.

He wanted to see Steve again. He wanted to.

But what was left of Bucky Barnes in him had been twisted, broken, beaten into something unrecognizable.

HYDRA had taken him, stripped him down to nothing, rebuilt him as something else. Something wrong.

A killer.

A ghost.

And ghosts didn’t get to come back.

Shikako watched him carefully. He had barely moved since the news started playing. Rigid. Silent. Trapped in a fight she wasn’t sure he even realized he was having with himself.

She sighed, crossing her arms. “You know, he probably still thinks about you.”

James exhaled sharply. Not quite a laugh. Not quite anything.

“That’s the problem.”

Silence stretched between them. The others weren’t saying anything, but she knew they were listening.

Then, Igor spoke up, quiet but firm.

“We were all taken. We were all used.” He met James’s gaze across the room. “That doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to want things.”

James scoffed. “Yeah? And what happens if I show up? You think I can just walk back into his life after everything? You think it won’t matter? That he won’t look at me and—”

He stopped. Jaw tight. Shoulders tense. Fingers digging into the table.

They all knew what he meant.

That Steve would see what HYDRA made him into.

That he wouldn’t see Bucky anymore.

Just the Winter Soldier.

Shikako clicked her tongue, leaning forward. “You don’t know that.”

James ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I can’t.”

“Because you don’t deserve to? Or because you’re afraid of what he’ll think?”

His head snapped toward her, eyes sharp—defensive.

Bingo.

Shikako shrugged. “You want to see him. But you’re scared. So instead of admitting it, you’re deciding for him.”

James clenched his jaw.

“That’s not—”

“Yeah, it is.”

A beat of silence.

Then, Misha scoffed from the couch.

“Tch. Coward.”

James turned toward him with an unimpressed glare. “What did you just say?”

Misha stretched, completely unbothered. “You heard me. You’re afraid, so you’re running away before you even try. That’s what cowards do.”

James’s fingers twitched. Misha was pushing it.

But before James could snap back, Peter spoke up.

“He’s scared of losing something he barelly remembers having.”

James’s head whipped toward him next, but Peter just shrugged. “You’re afraid that if you go to him, he won’t see you the same way. That he won’t want you back.”

James didn’t say anything.

Because they were right.

He was afraid.

Of what Steve would think. Of what he would see when he looked at him.

Of the weight of all the things James had done.

Because what if Steve didn’t want him back?

Shikako sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You don’t have to decide now.”

James didn’t answer.

Didn’t argue.

Didn’t agree, either.

But he didn’t leave.

Didn’t shut them out.

And that was enough.

For now.

Shikako knew that meant he was thinking.

That was good.

James wasn’t impulsive like some of them—he brooded, he analyzed, he second-guessed. And when it came to Steve? That hesitation doubled.

The TV kept playing in the background, the news anchors still discussing the invasion, the Avengers.

James didn’t look at the screen anymore.

Instead, he stood up, rolling his shoulders.

"I’m going out for a bit."

No one stopped him.

They just watched as he grabbed his jacket and left, the door shutting softly behind him.

Misha exhaled loudly, flopping onto the couch. “You think he’s gonna do it?”

Alexey shrugged. “Not yet. But he’s thinking about it.”

Igor leaned back, arms crossed. “That’s more than before.”

Shikako hummed in agreement.

James wouldn’t make a decision tonight. Maybe not for weeks.

But the seed had been planted.

And knowing him? He wouldn’t ignore it forever.

She sighed, rubbing her temple. “We should keep an eye on him.”

Valeria raised an eyebrow. “You think he’s gonna run?”

Shikako shook her head. “No. But I think he’s gonna try convincing himself not to care.”

And James was a terrible liar when it came to things that actually mattered.

She stretched, glancing back at the news. The footage had switched to an interview with Tony Stark, smug as ever, dodging questions about the Avengers’ next move.

Shikako frowned slightly.

James didn’t come back for hours.

That wasn’t unusual. He needed space.

Shikako didn’t go looking for him. Not yet.

She knew chasing him wouldn’t work. He had to come to terms with it himself.

So, instead, she waited.

When he finally returned, the house was quiet. Most of the others had gone to sleep, except for Peter, who was reading in the corner, and Shikako, who was sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through her notes on dimensional travel.

James didn’t say anything as he walked in. Just shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over a chair.

Shikako didn’t look up.

"Did walking in circles help?"

James exhaled sharply. Not quite a laugh.

But not a denial, either.

He pulled out a chair and sat across from her, rubbing a hand over his face.

"It’s not that simple."

Shikako finally looked at him. “No. But it’s not as complicated as you’re making it, either.”

James didn’t respond.

Because he knew she was right.

The problem wasn’t whether or not he wanted to see Steve.

The problem was that he already knew the answer.

And he didn’t know what to do with it.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

"You think he’d even want to see me?"

Shikako didn’t hesitate.

"Yes."

James scoffed. “That easy, huh?”

She shrugged. “I mean, if I were Captain America and my supposedly dead best friend was actually alive, I’d want to know.”

James shook his head, but there was something distant in his expression now. Something that wasn’t quite as closed off as before.

Shikako leaned forward.

"You don’t have to do anything right now. But don’t lie to yourself. You want to see him."

James didn’t sleep that night.

Shikako knew because she didn’t either.

She could hear him moving in the other room—

She didn’t get up. Didn’t push.

She’d already said what needed to be said. The rest was up to him.

By morning, he was gone again.

Not running. Just thinking.

The others didn’t say much about it.

Misha just stretched, yawning as he grabbed coffee. “So, how long are we pretending he’s not spiraling?”

Alexey didn’t even look up from his newspaper. “Until he admits it.”

Valeria hummed, sipping her tea. “Could take a while.”

Igor, braiding her hair, shrugged. “Not forever.”

Shikako smirked slightly. They weren’t wrong.

James would work through it. Eventually.

And when he did?

They’d be ready.

A Week Later.

James came back different.

Still James. Still quiet. Still steady.

But there was something sharper in his eyes.

Like he’d finally stopped running from himself.

Shikako looked up from her research when he walked in. She didn’t say anything.

Just waited.

James sat across from her, hands clasped together. Thinking. Choosing his words carefully.

Then—

"If I do this… I’m not going alone."

Shikako raised an eyebrow. “We already knew that.”

James exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

"I don’t know what I’m expecting. I don’t even know what I’m gonna say."

Shikako leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm.

"Then don’t plan it. Just go. See what happens."

James didn’t answer immediately.

Then, after a long pause—

"Yeah."

That was all he said.

But it was enough.

He ran a hand through his hair, still looking distant, but for the first time in a while, it was like he was gathering his strength instead of retreating into his past.

Shikako watched him silently.

Then, he spoke again—this time, quieter.

“I need you to come with me.”

Her eyebrows raised slightly, though she kept her voice steady. “You want me to come with you to find Steve?”

He nodded, his voice low but firm. “I can’t do it without knowing that… I won’t be completely alone.”

Shikako exhaled, leaning back in her chair. She could tell he meant it.

But…

Her mind was already moving in a different direction. She’d been thinking about Konoha and dimensional travel for so long, and there was another possibility here.

“I’ll come.”

James looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes.

She continued, tapping her fingers against the table, “This could be a chance for me to talk to someone who might actually be able to help me with my research.”

James frowned, but there was a slight curiosity in his gaze.

She nodded. “Tony Stark. He’s a genius when it comes to science. Maybe I can find a way to speak with him. He’s probably seen technology beyond what I could even imagine.”

James looked at her, his expression shifting slightly. “You think he’ll help?”

Shikako smiled, her tone light. “I don’t know. But if I’m going to get back to Konoha, I need to try everything.”

James was quiet for a moment, processing.

Finally, he nodded, understanding. “Alright. So we do this together. But this is about you, too. I figure out how to talk to Steve, and you figure out how to get back home.”

Shikako’s lips quirked. “Sounds like a plan.”

James stood, grabbing his jacket. "Then we leave tomorrow.”

Shikako stood as well, her resolve hardening. "Let's make sure we’re ready then."

The morning light filtered softly through the blinds as the house woke up to another quiet day.

Shikako stood in the kitchen, sipping her coffee, her mind still buzzing from the conversation with James. She had agreed to accompany him—not just for his sake, but for her own. The opportunity to talk to Tony Stark, to see if he could help her with her research on dimensional travel, was too important to pass up.

She had a plan in mind now—a solid direction.

As she stirred her coffee, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. James emerged from his room, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t look much different than he had the night before, but there was a new determination in his eyes.

“Morning.”

Shikako nodded, a slight smile on her lips. “Morning. You ready to talk to the others?”

James exhaled, his shoulders shifting slightly. “I’m not sure how to tell them.”

She chuckled softly, setting her coffee cup down on the counter. “Nothing we do is easy.”

He smiled, though it was a little strained. “Fair enough.”

They walked into the living room, where the others were already starting to gather, each of them slowly waking up, adjusting to the routine of their new lives.

Shikako took a breath, then turned to face them. “Alright, everyone. We need to talk.”

The group quieted, all eyes turning to her and James.

“James and I are leaving for New York tomorrow.” Shikako said, her voice calm. “We’re going to see Steve Rogers, and I’m going to try to talk to Tony Stark about some things.”

There was a brief silence before Valeria spoke up, her tone thoughtful. “What about the rest of us?”

Shikako glanced around. “That’s what we need to figure out. You decide what you want.”

There was a slight shift in the room as everyone began to process the options. Misha broke the silence first.

“I think I’ll stay here. This place... it’s peaceful. It feels like we’ve finally earned some time off, you know?”

Alexey nodded, still looking out the window. “I’ve been thinking the same. I’m not running anymore. There’s something about this place, the quiet... it’s not the life I expected, but it’s enough.”

Igor, who had been quiet up until now, spoke next, his voice soft. “I agree with them. I’ve seen too much, and I’m tired. Maybe it’s time to settle down. Let you both handle things.”

Shikako understood, but part of her still felt the tug of wanting them to come with her. But she knew. They had made their choices.

“I’m with them.” Valeria added, her eyes meeting Shikako’s. “I’ll stay. Not that I don’t care about Steve or your research, but there’s something about this place... I think I’m ready to stay put for a while.”

The room fell into another quiet moment, everyone mulling over the idea. Shikako took a deep breath. This wasn’t easy, but it was necessary.

She turned to James, who was still standing near the door. “So, it’s just us, huh?”

James met her gaze, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Looks like it.”

Shikako nodded, then looked back at the group. “Alright, we’ll leave soon. Those of you staying—take care of things here. We’ll check in with you when we can.”

The decision was made.

Shikako looked at the others—they were staying because they had chosen to. They were staying because they had finally found peace.

Peter had come through, securing plane tickets for them to head to New York, no questions asked. Shikako had to admit, she was impressed. Peter had a way of getting things done—

It was a direct flight, and they had to leave quickly before things could get complicated.

Shikako checked her bags for the final time. Clothes. Documents. Her research notes. Everything was in order.

She turned to look at James, who had been quieter than usual since the decision was made. But it was understandable.

"Ready?" Shikako asked, voice steady.

James didn’t answer right away. He was focused on the task in front of him—removing his metal arm.

They both knew the metal arm was going to cause problems in the airport. It was a constant issue, and with metal detectors everywhere, it was going to draw attention if they didn’t do something about it.

"I’ve been thinking about this all night." James muttered, his tone almost absent. "This is going to feel weird."

Shikako moved closer, her expression neutral but understanding. "We need to take it off anyway. We can’t risk it setting off the detectors."

James nodded slowly.

Shikako had gathered the necessary tools—a set of lock picks to remove the arm, a few basic medical supplies to help James adjust, and a seal to carry the arm without attracting attention. The plan was simple: remove the arm, pack it carefully, seal it and hope for the best.

James pulled at his shirt sleeves, adjusting himself as he sat down on the couch. “Let’s get this over with.”

Shikako knelt beside him and carefully began working on the mechanical arm’s attachment. She didn’t look at James. She knew how much this meant—how much it hurt him, both physically and mentally. Removing the arm wasn’t just about the metal detectors. It was also about taking off a part of him that had been forced on for so long.

The process was slow, but she made quick work of it. The arm clicked free from its attachment with a quiet sound. She set it gently on the table beside them and turned back to James.

He was looking down at his empty sleeve. There was a faint shudder in his hands, but he didn’t speak.

"How does it feel?" Shikako asked quietly.

James’s response was a slow exhale. "Like I’m missing something… but it’s also like I’m not constantly reminded of what I did."

She didn’t respond right away. She just gently helped him bandage the area around his shoulder, securing the temporary dressing.

"It’s just for a little while." She said, glancing up at him. "We’ll get through the flight, and then you can put it back on."

James met her gaze. His eyes were tired, but there was something softer there—something grateful.

"Thanks, Shikako."

She nodded, finishing the bandages. "Let’s get this over with. We’ve got a flight to catch."

He stood up, testing his shoulder. It felt odd without the arm, but it would work for the time being.

Shikako walked over to the small table, pulling out one of her sealing scrolls.

She had searched really hard for some good quality materials so it could seal everything for real and not need constant chakra consumption.

She picked up the arm carefully and packed it into the seal, then she activated it, watching as the scroll began to glow faintly, her chakra binding the energy around the arm. She could feel the hum of the seal gathering around the metal.

After a few moments, Shikako exhaled, stepping back.

“Done.”

They had three hours before they needed to be at the airport.

With a final glance around the house, they gathered their things and headed out—one step closer to their next destination.

The taxi ride to the airport was uneventful at first. The noise of the bustling city outside faded into the background, leaving just the hum of the engine and the occasional voice of the driver as he steered them through the crowded streets.

Shikako sat in the backseat, her eyes darting between the window and the driver, trying to keep her mind sharp for any potential threats. James sat beside her, stiff and uncomfortable, his hand twitching at his side where his metal arm used to be. He kept shifting slightly, as if trying to find a more comfortable position without the weight of the arm.

The driver, a middle-aged man with a slight accent, glanced over his shoulder at them through the rearview mirror. “So, you two off to New York for a little getaway?”

Shikako raised an eyebrow, glancing at James before responding smoothly. “Something like that.”

The driver chuckled, clearly assuming the best. “Ah, you know, New York is a romantic spot. Great place for a vacation. But with everything going on—” he trailed off for a second, clearly trying to choose his words carefully, “well, you know, the attack last week.”

Shikako stiffened slightly, but kept her voice steady. “Yeah, we heard about it. It’s a shame it’s so dangerous right now.”

The driver nodded, his tone becoming more serious. “I’d advise you to stay here a little while longer, if I’m honest. Things are getting out of hand. People are talking about more attacks. It's all over the news.”

Shikako glanced at James, who was sitting even more still now, his discomfort obvious as his eyes flicked to the back of the car.

But she didn’t let the conversation faze her. “Well, we’ve already paid for our tickets. It would be a shame to cancel our trip now.” She gave a slight smile, playing off the tension. “It’s a good price for last-minute tickets.”

The driver seemed to take the hint, though he continued chatting. “I get it. You’ve got plans, right? Can’t let something like this mess with them. I hope you’re both ready for the city, though. It’s not exactly quiet right now. People are nervous.” He glanced back through the mirror again. “But if you’re in love, what’s a little danger, eh?”

James didn’t respond, his discomfort practically radiating off him.

Shikako, sensing his unease, turned to the driver with a more upbeat tone. “It’s true. A romantic getaway wouldn’t be the same without a little excitement. And it’s just part of the experience, right?”

The driver smiled, pleased with the answer. “Exactly! It’s all about the adventure, right?” He paused for a second, then chuckled. “But don’t let the craziness scare you off. New York always bounces back. It’s the heart of the world, after all.”

James gave a stiff nod, his eyes focused out the window, trying to seem nonchalant.

Shikako could tell he was still trying to ignore the empty space where his arm used to be. He hated the vulnerability, hated not having the metal arm to rely on.

“Thanks for the tip. We’ll keep an eye out,” Shikako said, her tone light, but she knew the moment the driver’s focus went back to the road, she’d need to address James’s discomfort.

But for now, she let him deal with it. They were getting closer to the airport. There was no turning back now.

The driver continued chatting about New York, giving them tips about good restaurants and tourist spots to see.

Shikako smiled and nodded, her thoughts briefly flickering back to her research, and to what lay ahead—both the dangers of their journey and the unknowns that could help her return home.

But as the taxi approached the airport terminal, she turned to James again, noticing how tense he was. “You okay?” she asked quietly, her voice steady.

James’s eyes flicked to her, and he gave a small, barely noticeable nod. “I’ll be fine. Just... not used to not having it.”

Shikako smiled softly, understanding. “We’ll get through it. One step at a time.”

The airport was chaotic—as expected. Shikako and James moved through the crowd with practiced ease, sticking close to each other and trying to remain unnoticed.

James’s discomfort still hadn’t eased. Every time they passed a security checkpoint, his hand would twitch, like he was expecting something to go wrong.

Shikako knew a big part of it was because he still felt the absence of his metal arm. It had always been a part of him, and now, without it, he felt off-balance.

They approached the security line, and Shikako's heart skipped a beat. They didn’t have the luxury of drawing attention to themselves. They couldn’t afford mistakes.

As they stepped up to the scanner, Shikako subtly touched James’s shoulder. “Remember, you don’t have the arm. Just walk through. It’ll be fine.”

James nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tried to mask the nervous energy coursing through him.

The security officer gave them a once-over before motioning them forward. Shikako moved through the metal detector first, holding her breath as it scanned her body. The machine beeped once—then twice—but she passed without any issues. She exhaled, smiling slightly.

Then, it was James’s turn. He walked through, carefully keeping his movements calm and unhurried. The machine beeped as he passed, but the officer just waved him through.

He was through.

Shikako couldn’t help but smile inwardly. The worst part was done.

They picked up their bags and made their way to the gate, where they had a short wait before boarding. James stayed mostly quiet, his fingers occasionally brushing against the fabric of his sleeve where the arm used to be, but he didn’t speak.

When they boarded the plane, the plane was almost full, and the air was thick with the sound of passengers settling in for a long flight. Shikako found their seats near the back, and they both sat down quietly.

James shifted uncomfortably, adjusting himself in the seat, still acutely aware of the space where his arm had been. He kept his gaze ahead. He was still on edge.

As the flight attendant gave the safety instructions, Shikako settled into her seat, checking her phone for any updates. Nothing new—everything was still in motion, and they had made it this far.

When the plane finally started its ascent, she closed her eyes, letting herself relax just slightly. The hardest part of the journey was behind them.

James finally shifted next to her, looking out the window. “This is the first time I’ve been on a plane in... years.” His voice was quieter than usual, but it had a hint of curiosity behind it.

Shikako smirked. “You’re not a fan of flying?”

“Not really.” James sighed, adjusting his seatbelt. “It’s just… this whole thing feels wrong.”

Shikako turned to him, her voice soft. “You’re allowed to be nervous, James. We’re both stepping into unknown territory here.”

He glanced at her, his expression guarded but thoughtful. "I know. I just..."

"We’ll get through it." She said it like she had said it a thousand times before.

As the plane leveled off and the hum of the engines settled into a rhythm, Shikako let herself relax a little more.

Two hours later, the plane touched down in New York, the city's skyline sprawling out below them as they descended.

James shifted in his seat, his eyes scanning the bustling city outside the window as the plane taxied to the gate. Shikako, on the other hand, was already mentally preparing for what was to come. Their choices were few, and none of them were without risks.

She turned to James as they gathered their bags. “We have three options.”

James didn’t look at her, but his attention was fully on her words. He was already thinking about the next move.

“Option one—break into the tower,” Shikako began. “We get in, find Steve and Tony, and have a talk. This is a high-risk option.”

James’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“Option two—talk to Tony, try to make an appointment. It’s not a guarantee.” Shikako paused, knowing full well how much they both hated the idea of relying on pleasantries and negotiations when they had so little time.

“Option three—we meet them in public, confront them. That would be the most direct approach, but it would cause a massive scandal, and we’d be exposed. We can’t risk that kind of attention.”

James finally looked at her, his eyes shadowed. “So we break in.”

Shikako gave a small nod. “It’s the only option that doesn’t involve relying on their reactions. We act, not wait for their approval.”

James exhaled sharply, then gave a resigned nod. “Then it’s settled.”

Shikako reached into her bag, pulling out the sealed scroll she had been keeping in reserve. She unfurled it, the seal glowing faintly as she unsealed James’s arm and handed it to him.

He took it, the weight of it still strangely comforting in his hands. It was a part of him, even if it hadn’t been with him for a few hours. He put it back on, and after a few adjustments, it hummed with its usual mechanical rhythm.

“Thanks.” James muttered as the arm clicked into place, his muscles adjusting to the familiar weight.

The two of them made their way to a motel for the night. They checked in under false names, knowing full well it wouldn’t be safe to stay in any public place for long. The room was small, but it was clean, and for now, that was all they needed. They could rest for a few hours before the next step.

Shikako sat at the small desk, her fingers flying across her phone as she typed out a quick message to Peter.

Need you to hack into their system. Find anything we can use to get inside. Stark's tower. Time’s ticking.

The response came quickly, much faster than expected.

Got it. Give me an hour. I’ll get you the access codes you need. Stay safe.

Shikako put the phone down with a sigh of relief. She turned to James, who was already sitting on the edge of the bed, deep in thought.

“We’re in.”

James didn’t look up, his expression distant. “You sure about this? Breaking into their house… It’s not exactly a friendly reunion.”

Shikako nodded, her voice steady. “We don’t have time for anything else. If we do this right, we’ll get what we need."

James didn’t answer right away, his gaze focused out the window at the city lights flickering in the distance. After a long moment, he finally spoke.

“Let’s do it. We do it fast.”

Shikako smirked. “That’s the plan.”

Breaking into Stark Tower had been the easy part.

Shikako and James had slipped through security undetected, weaving through the corridors without setting off a single alarm. JARVIS was aware of them, of course—he just hadn’t been able to do anything about it.

As they moved deeper inside, the AI’s voice echoed through the speakers, perfectly calm but undeniably pointed.

“I must admit, I am unable to detect any security alarms being triggered. Would you care to explain, sir and madam?”

James tensed beside her. He hated AI systems.

Shikako kept walking, her tone as casual as if they had been invited.

“We would like to talk to Steve Rogers.”

There was a pause. Then—

“One moment, please.”

They stopped in the open living space, waiting.

Then—the door to the kitchen swung open.

Shikako expected Tony, maybe Natasha, or even Steve.

What she didn’t expect was Thor.

Flipping pancakes.

The god of thunder stood at the stove, humming a cheery tune, effortlessly handling the spatula in one hand while the other carried a large plate stacked with golden pancakes.

The scent of warm butter and syrup filled the air.

Shikako blinked.

James stared.

Thor beamed.

“Ah! Visitors!” he declared, as if they had been expected. “Welcome!"

And then—Shikako saw him.

Sitting stiffly on the couch, restrained, silent, eyes sharp.

Loki.

His hands and legs were bound with restraints, and his mouth was covered with a metal muzzle, clamped tight over his face.

Shikako had no doubt that if he could speak, he’d be cursing them all into oblivion.

She barely had time to process it before she felt James go rigid beside her.

She didn’t need to ask why.

James wasn’t looking at Loki.

He was looking at the muzzle.

His breathing had gone shallow, measured. The tension in his shoulders locked tight.

Because he remembered.

The cold bite of metal against his skin. The feeling of being silenced, controlled.

HYDRA had done the same to him before.

James turned away, eyes dark, jaw tight. Uncomfortable. Unsettled.

Thor, blissfully oblivious, gestured toward Shikako.

“Come, friend! Try my pancakes! They are truly a delight. I have perfected my Midgardian cooking!”

Shikako opened her mouth—then shut it again.

Her brain was struggling to process the absolute whiplash of breaking into Stark Tower, only to be greeted by Thor making breakfast, Loki restrained like a rabid dog, and now… pancakes?

She glanced at James. He still wasn’t looking at Loki. His hands were clenched, tension written in every line of his body.

Yeah. He was not okay.

Before she could say anything—

The doors to the main hall burst open.

Steve Rogers stormed in, his expression thunderous.

“JARVIS said—”

Then—he froze.

The second his eyes landed on James, his entire body locked up.

The room fell silent.

Loki watched with keen interest.

Thor looked between them, his brow furrowing slightly.

James?

He didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t even breathe.

Shikako sighed, rubbing her temple.

Well.

This was going to be awkward.

The room was completely silent.

Steve had stormed in, fully ready to fight—and then stopped cold the second he laid eyes on James.

His breath hitched.

His posture—rigid, defensive—shattered.

Because James Barnes was standing in front of him.

Alive.

Not a memory, not a hallucination. Real.

For several painfully long seconds, no one moved.

James, to his credit, didn’t flinch. Didn’t shift.

But Shikako could see the way his fingers twitched—how his breathing stayed too controlled.

Steve hadn’t even blinked.

His face was caught between shock and something else. Something raw.

Something James didn’t want to face.

“Bucky?”

Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper.

James’s jaw clenched. His entire body tensed, his weight shifting as if he was already preparing to bolt.

Shikako, standing between them, saw it all.

The ghost of who James used to be. The war between his instincts to run and his desire to stay.

She sighed. Time to do something before this turned into a disaster.

With perfect deadpan delivery, she turned back to Thor.

“I’d love some pancakes.”

Thor, beaming, immediately handed her a plate.

“Ah! A wise choice, my friend! A meal fit for warriors!”

Loki rolled his eyes.

Shikako sat comfortably next to him.

Steve didn’t react. Didn’t even register the interaction.

He was still staring at James.

His mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

Because how do you talk to a ghost?

James exhaled sharply through his nose, breaking the moment.

“I—” He hesitated. Took a breath. Then, quieter, rougher—“I came here to talk.”

Steve took a step forward, almost like he didn’t realize he was doing it.

James took a step back, his eyes to her, a silent What now?

Shikako, mid-bite of a pancake, blinked at him.

James had spoken, barely, but it wasn’t enough.

Steve looked like he had a thousand things to say, a thousand things to ask, but none of the words were making it out of his mouth.

Shikako sighed, setting her plate of pancakes down. “James, you wanna sit down or just stand there looking miserable?”

James shot her a mildly annoyed look, but before he could respond—

Steve flinched.

Physically.

Like she had just thrown something at him.

Her eyes flicked to him, unimpressed.

Steve’s face had gone pale, his entire posture shifting, like he couldn’t believe what he just heard.

“James?” Steve repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes locked onto James—wide, disbelieving, hopeful, but uncertain.

James stiffened.

Shikako immediately felt the secondhand awkwardness hit.

She didn’t even have to look to her side to feel the energy shift from the person sitting next to her.

Slowly, she turned.

Loki.

Still muzzled. Still restrained. But his eyes?

So. Much. Judgment.

They met each other’s gaze.

And in that moment—

They shared the same thought.

We are judging this bitch.

Shikako raised an eyebrow.

Loki tilted his head ever so slightly, like this was the most embarrassing thing he had ever witnessed.

Which, considering Loki’s history, was saying a lot.

Meanwhile, Steve was still stuck reeling.

“You call him James?” Steve asked, his voice uneven, like he was trying to piece together something that wasn’t fitting.

Shikako turned back to him, arms crossed.

“Yeah? That’s his name.”

Steve looked at James again, his expression almost pleading. Like he needed to hear it from him.

James didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Didn’t deny it.

Shikako rolled her eyes. “Look, if you want to talk, let’s sit down before you have a breakdown.”

Steve didn’t react at first. He just kept staring at James.

James, still as a statue, finally sighed.

Then, quieter—but firm.

“Yeah. It’s my name.”

Steve closed his eyes for a second, exhaling shakily. Like he was trying to process everything at once.

Shikako, once again, turned to Loki.

He looked directly at her.

And despite the restraints on his hands—

She could practically hear the sarcastic applause.

Steve looked one second away from imploding.

His breathing was uneven, his shoulders tense like he was physically holding himself back from—Shikako didn’t even know. Grabbing James? Crying?

It was like watching a computer overheat.

James, on the other hand, was still rigid, guarded. He had said his name, but that was all he was willing to give.

Shikako casually picked up her fork again.

One should not waste pancakes.

Loki, beside her, was watching everything with the utmost amusement, his green eyes dancing with mischief despite the metal muzzle clamped over his mouth.

Steve, meanwhile, finally spoke.

“You—” He hesitated. Took a breath. Then, voice barely holding together—“You don’t remember me, do you?”

James exhaled sharply, rubbing his face.

He did remember. At least a little.

But James wasn’t ready to say that.

So he went with the default defense mechanism.

“It’s complicated.”

Steve flinched.

Shikako, not built for emotional drama without sarcasm, chewed another bite of pancake.

Then, before the awkwardness could strangle the entire room, Thor clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

"Ah, Rogers! You should sit and eat! Nothing resolves tension quite like a feast!"

Steve visibly struggled between spiraling emotionally and responding to the giant god of thunder offering him breakfast.

Steve muttered under his breath, “Why are you like this?”

Thor grinned. “Because food is the solution to many things!”

Shikako swallowed her bite, nodding seriously. “He’s not wrong.”

Loki’s eyes snapped to her.

And for the first time, she saw genuine betrayal.

Like she had personally offended him on a spiritual level.

She stared back at him.

Then, carefully, she took another bite.

Loki huffed through his nose.

Shikako smirked.

Steve, meanwhile, was still struggling. “This isn’t— I mean, this isn’t how I thought this would go. I though you... I thought you d-”

Shikako snorted. “Did you expect a dramatic movie moment? Running into each other in the rain? Emotional speeches?”

Steve blinked, thrown off by her tone.

James sighed. “Shikako.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What? I’m just saying, this is reality. It’s awkward and weird, and there’s a literal Norse god making pancakes. You either sit down and talk, or you stand there looking like you might pass out.”

Steve stared at her.

Then, slowly, he pulled out a chair and sat down.

James stayed standing.

Thor beamed. “Excellent! Now, Rogers, would you like some pancakes?”

Steve hesitated. Looked at James again.

Then, with a long-suffering sigh, he muttered, “Yeah. Sure.”

Thor cheered.

Shikako smirked, exchanging another knowing glance with Loki.

Now, this was entertainment.

Thor, being Thor, piled an unreasonable amount of pancakes onto Steve’s plate, then did the same for James, who looked at them like they had personally offended him.

James nudged the plate toward Shikako. She took it without hesitation.

Steve, still processing, poked at his food.

Shikako sighed. “If you don’t eat, Thor’s gonna start feeding you himself.”

Thor nodded, utterly serious. “Indeed! Many of my allies require proper sustenance! I shall not allow you to wallow in misery on an empty stomach!”

Loki grunted, unimpressed.

Steve blinked at that, and—like magic—his instincts took over, because apparently ‘don’t let the giant Asgardian hand-feed you’ was a stronger motivation than ‘process your long-lost best friend being alive.’

He took a bite.

“There we go.” Thor beamed.

Shikako took another bite herself, silently approving of Asgardian peer pressure.

James, however, was still tense.

Not because of Steve. Not because of the pancakes.

But because he kept glancing at Loki.

More specifically, at the muzzle on Loki’s face.

Shikako saw it. Noted it.

The flickers of discomfort, the way his fingers twitched ever so slightly—

It wasn’t a lot.

But it was enough.

Loki, being Loki, didn’t miss it either.

His sharp green eyes flicked between them, clearly amused at James’s reaction. He tilted his head, making a pointed noise through the muzzle, like he was mocking him.

James clenched his jaw.

Shikako, not in the mood for whatever emotional battle that was, kicked him under the table.

James exhaled through his nose, shoulders dropping slightly.

Loki smirked.

Shikako casually took another bite of pancake, looking completely innocent.

Steve, finally, broke the silence.

“So.” He hesitated. “You really go by James now?”

James’s grip tightened.

Shikako, not about to let things spiral, answered for him.

“It’s his name.” She said it simply, like it was obvious. “Always has been.”

Steve swallowed. “Right. Yeah. Of course.”

A pause.

Then:

“…I missed you.”

James inhaled sharply.

Loki looked absolutely delighted at the awkwardness.

Thor, to everyone’s surprise, actually stayed silent.

Steve, though, wasn’t done.

“I looked for you, you know.” His voice was quieter. “For years. I thought— I thought you were gone.”

James dropped his head down.

There was something heavy in his eyes.

Not blank. Not empty.

Just tired.

"I know, Stevie."

Steve froze.

Because that—that was something old.

Something only they would know.

Shikako chewed her pancake.

James sighed, running a hand down his face. “Look. I don’t know how to do this.”

Steve exhaled. “Neither do I.”

“Great. We’re both disasters.”

Thor laughed. “Ah! A strong foundation for a reunion!”

Steve gave him a look.

James sighed again.

Shikako, done with their awkward emotional pacing, wiped her mouth and leaned back in her chair.

“Well, figure it out quickly, ‘cause we didn’t break in here just for pancakes.”

Steve blinked. “Then why are you eating them?”

Shikako stared at him.

Then, flatly: “Because they’re pancakes.”

James shook his head, but his lips twitched just slightly.

Steve… relaxed.

Just a little.

Shikako smirked.

JARVIS had been silent for a while.

Which, frankly, was more concerning than if he had been talking.

Shikako had half expected some snarky comment about breaking and entering, but no. Nothing.

Until—

“Sir, might I remind you that these two individuals have unlawfully entered the tower?”

Steve jumped slightly at JARVIS suddenly speaking again, clearly having forgotten the AI was there.

JARVIS continued, ever polite but undeniably passive-aggressive.

“Additionally, the Miss has now consumed approximately 6.5 pancakes.”

Shikako paused mid-bite.

Slowly, she turned to stare at the ceiling.

“Are you tracking my pancake intake?”

“Of course, Miss. It is part of my security analysis.”

Shikako narrowed her eyes. “That’s creepy.”

“You did break in.”

“Touché.”

Loki made a muffled noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

Thor, still grinning, clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I do not see the harm in their presence, JARVIS! They have come for good reasons, and truly, what better way to discuss matters than over breakfast?”

JARVIS, not convinced, responded smoothly, “If you say so, sir. Shall I alert Mr. Stark to the intrusion?”

Shikako immediately put her fork down.

James tensed.

Steve hesitated.

Then, instead of saying ‘yes,’ he sighed.

“I’ll handle it. Let’s… let’s just talk first.” He motioned to the rest of the group. “Come on, sit down. Let’s all try to get this sorted.”

JARVIS was silent for a beat. Then—

“Understood, Captain Rogers.”

Shikako leaned back. Alright. Progress.

Steve, however, still had his full focus on James.

“You came here for me. To talk.” He paused, like he was still wrapping his head around it. “So talk.”

James didn’t respond immediately.

He glanced at Shikako—silent question.

She gave him a flat look that translated roughly to Figure it out, buddy, this is your conversation.

James exhaled, rubbing his temple. “This is a lot.”

Steve’s lips twitched. “You think?”

Shikako snorted. “Oh good, he has sarcasm. Maybe this won’t take all day.”

Steve gave her an unimpressed look.

Shikako just picked up her fork again.

JARVIS, ever the observer, spoke once more.

“Miss, you have now consumed seven pancakes.”

Shikako’s eye twitched.

Loki, clearly entertained, shook with silent laughter.

James and Steve sat across from each other, their eyes locked in an unspoken battle of guilt and regret. Neither seemed willing to break the heavy silence with a genuine word. Instead, every few seconds, the quiet was punctuated by the measured, almost clinical voice of JARVIS:

“Miss, you have now consumed eleven and a half pancakes.”

Shikako, who had been steadily working through James's plate, rolled her eyes. She lifted a forkful of pancake, half-amused and half-exasperated, as if the AI’s constant tally was the most important news in the world.

Thor, still busy at the kitchen counter, clapped his hands together with glee. “Miss , would you care for more pancake? They are, by all accounts, a delight for the spirit and the stomach!”

He promptly set another plate in front of her, his broad smile as radiant as ever, blissfully unaware of the awkward tension thickening the room.

Meanwhile, James fidgeted. He kept glancing sideways at Steve, his expression betraying a silent plea—

Steve’s gaze was intense, searching, and it made the silence all the more unbearable.

After what felt like an eternity, the heavy door to the main hall swung open. All conversation and tension halted as Tony Stark stepped in.

Clad in his signature casual attire, he exuded an air of confident nonchalance. His eyes quickly took in the scene: Steve and James locked in an uncomfortable stare, Shikako busy with her pancakes as JARVIS dutifully recited the latest intake count, and Thor grinning like a proud chef.

Tony’s presence, abrupt and magnetic, broke the silence. He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he commented, “Well, if it isn’t a reunion. I’ve heard a lot of noise and I've decided to check it out”

Steve’s eyes narrowed slightly, his posture stiffening as he looked at Tony. James shifted in his seat, while Shikako set her fork down and regarded Tony with cautious curiosity.

Tony continued, his tone light yet laced with a hint of challenge, “So, what’s the story here? ”

JARVIS, as if on cue, interjected, “The Miss has now consumed 11.75 pancakes.”

Tony raised his hands in mock exasperation. “JARVIS, must you always remind us of the obvious?” He turned to Shikako with a wink. “More pancakes, dear? I insist.”

Shikako managed a wry smile. “I’m good, thanks. But maybe later.”

The room seemed to exhale collectively as Tony’s presence shifted the dynamics. Steve took a slow, measured breath and finally spoke, his voice low and tentative. “Bucky… I—”

James interrupted, his tone strained, “I came here to talk.”

Tony’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he surveyed the scene. “Talk, you say? Well, why don’t we more to somewhere more private and figure out what all this is about? No need for awkward stares when we can have an actual conversation.”

James and Steve exchanged a look—

Steve cleared his throat, and sent a slight nod to Tony. “Alright then. Let’s talk.”

As they began to move, James hesitated one last time, glancing back at Shikako, who gave him a reassuring nod.

And so, Tony led Steve and James out of the room, his voice low, casual—but firm. No pressuring, no prying eyes. Just a space where they could talk without Thor’s enthusiastic interruptions or JARVIS’s pancake commentary.

Shikako didn’t watch them go. She didn’t need to.

She could already tell James was struggling to stay calm, steady.

This was his moment. Whatever happened next was up to him.

And so, she did the only thing she could.

She picked up her fork.

She was about to resume eating when she heard footsteps returning.

Tony.

He strolled back into the kitchen with the kind of energy that suggested he had just dropped a mess into someone else’s lap and was now ready to be entertained by something else.

His eyes landed on the remaining group—Thor, happily making more pancakes, Loki still restrained and unimpressed, and Shikako, who was eating through this entire situation like it was a regular Tuesday.

He clapped his hands together once.

“Alright, now that the emotionally repressed duo are off having their dramatic heart-to-heart, let’s talk about you, Pancake Bandit.”

Shikako, mid-bite, raised an eyebrow.

“Me?”

Tony gestured broadly. “Yeah, you. Who the hell are you, how did you get in here, and—most importantly—how have you managed to consume almost twelve pancakes without breaking into a food coma?”

JARVIS, unhelpful as ever, chimed in immediately.

“The Miss has now consumed precisely 12.25 pancakes.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “See? That’s dangerous levels of breakfast, right there.”

Shikako, unimpressed, set down her fork.

“You let a guy with a magic hammer live here, and I’m the weird part?”

Thor, pleased with the acknowledgment, grinned. “Indeed! I am a most welcome presence!”

Loki made a pointed scoffing noise.

Tony gave her a long, considering look, then pointed vaguely at her. “I like you. You’ve got ‘bad idea’ energy.”

Shikako tilted her head. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Tony crossed his arms, glancing between her, Thor, and Loki.

Then, after a brief pause, he sighed and gestured to JARVIS.

“Alright, cue me in. Who’s our guest, and why is she eating my groceries?”

JARVIS, ever efficient, responded smoothly.

“The Miss is affiliated with James Barnes. They entered the tower undetected and specifically requested to speak with Captain Rogers. Despite breaking and entering, their intentions seem to be non-hostile.”

Tony tapped his fingers against his bicep, nodding slowly. “Uh-huh. And the pancakes?”

JARVIS paused.

Then, begrudgingly:

“Miss has expressed a fondness for them.”

Tony raised an eyebrow at her.

Shikako smirked. “They’re good.”

Thor, beaming, placed another plate in front of her. “Eat, warrior friend! You have earned your place at this table!”

Loki, entirely done with everything, let his head fall back against the couch with a long-suffering sigh.

Tony rubbed his face.

Then, finally, he sat down across from Shikako, studying her carefully.

“Alright, Pancake. What’s your deal?”

Shikako wiped her mouth, considering her answer.

Then, with perfect calm, she met his gaze and said:

“I need your help with dimensional travel.”

Tony blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then:

“Excuse me?”

The kitchen went silent.

Even Thor, mid-pancake flip, paused.

Tony just stared at her.

Loki, despite the muzzle, somehow managed to convey deep skepticism through pure body language alone.

JARVIS, ever unhelpful, let the silence stretch.

Then:

“Miss, could you clarify your statement? Did you say dimensional travel?”

Shikako did not blink.

“Yes.”

Tony slowly placed his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers in a clear attempt to process this nonsense.

Then, finally:

“Oh, great. She’s a lunatic.”

Shikako rolled her eyes. “Says the guy who built a murder robot for fun.”

Tony scoffed. “Hey, that hasn’t happened yet!”

Shikako just stared at him.

Tony blinked. “Wait, I mean—that won’t happen at all!”

Shikako took another bite of  the pancake.

Thor clapped her on the back approvingly. “I like this one. She speaks with confidence!”

Loki muttered something that was probably an insult.

Shikako ignored him.

Tony sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Okay, let’s say, hypothetically, I humor you.”

“You already are.”

He pointed at her. “Don’t push it, Pancake Bandit.”

Shikako shrugged.

Tony exhaled, rubbing his face. “Alright. Dimensional travel. Go on.”

Shikako set down her fork.

She glanced toward the hallway—where James and Steve were still talking.

Then she looked back at Tony.

“This isn’t my world,” she said simply.

Tony’s expression didn’t change.

But his fingers tapped against the table, thoughtful.

“Not your world, huh?”

Shikako nodded.

“And I need to get back.”

Tony glanced at Thor. “Is this a thing? People hopping dimensions?”

Thor stroked his beard. “There are legends, of course. But I know little of mortals who have done such a thing.”

Loki, muffled, grumbled.

Shikako, unimpressed, turned to him.

“You have something to add?”

Loki, slowly, carefully, sat up. His eyes—sharp and calculating—narrowed.

And then, very deliberately, he nodded.

Shikako raised an eyebrow.

Tony sighed. “Great. Now I have two problems.”

Shikako picked up her fork.

“Relax. It’s not like I’m asking you to build a portal overnight.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.

Then, grimly:

“I need a drink.”

Tony did not go get a drink.

Because the moment Shikako pulled out her notes, sketches, and calculations, he was hooked.

His half-joking, half-exasperated demeanor vanished, replaced by something sharper—genuine curiosity.

Shikako flipped open her notebook, laying out a series of intricate seals, formulas, and chakra theories. Mixed in were rough sketches of space-time distortions, wormhole theory, and a few equations that looked almost quantum in nature.

Tony scanned the pages, his eyes narrowing.

Loki, leaning forward now, looked over the notes with genuine interest.

Thor, meanwhile, was still making pancakes.

JARVIS remained silent.

Shikako tapped the edge of one diagram. “This is the foundation. The concept of dimensional rifts isn’t impossible, just unstable. The problem is creating an anchor strong enough to connect two separate realities.”

Tony’s brows furrowed. “These equations… They aren’t standard physics. You’re working off an energy source that doesn’t exist in this world.”

Shikako nodded. “Chakra.”

Tony blinked. “Gesundheit.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a life energy system. In my world, it’s as fundamental as gravity.”

Tony exhaled, scanning another set of notes. “So you’re saying your entire reality operates on a different set of physics.”

Shikako smirked. “I’m saying your physics are outdated.”

Tony gave her a look.

Loki snorted.

Thor, cheerfully flipping pancakes, called out, “Ah! Science talk! A fine way to bond!”

Tony ignored him. “Alright, so let’s say I believe you.” He gestured to the pages. “These calculations—are you telling me you’ve been working on interdimensional travel by yourself?”

Shikako shrugged. “For years. Not like I had other options.”

Tony scoffed. “Lady, that is either the most impressive or the most insane thing I’ve ever heard.”

Shikako smirked. “Why not both?”

Tony leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “You know, if you weren’t actively rewriting the laws of reality, I’d be a lot more annoyed that you broke into my house.”

Shikako grinned. “So you’re interested.”

Tony sighed. Deeply.

Then, finally—

“JARVIS, make me a pot of coffee. We’re gonna be here a while.”

Tony took one long sip of coffee.

Then another.

Then he set the mug down, leaned forward, and said, "Alright, explain it to me like I’m five."

Shikako smirked. “I feel like five-year-olds in my world could probably grasp this faster.”

“Hey.” Tony pointed at her. “This is new physics, Pancake Bandit. Cut me some slack.”

Thor, still flipping pancakes, nodded sagely. “A warrior must understand the foundation before wielding great power!”

Shikako stretched her fingers, cracking her knuckles. “Alright. Chakra 101.”

She flipped to a fresh page in her notebook and started sketching as she spoke.

“Chakra is life energy. It’s present in every living being—well, in my world at least. Think of it as a mix between your body’s physical energy and your mental/spiritual energy.”

Tony frowned. “So, bioelectricity and some… undefined metaphysical force?”

Shikako pointed at him. “Yes! But more refined. It can be shaped, controlled, and used to interact with reality. Like this—”

She lifted a hand and, without seals, let a flicker of chakra pulse through her fingertips. A faint glow, subtle but unmistakable, traced along her skin before vanishing.

Tony’s entire demeanor shifted.

“That was real.”

Shikako raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I wasn’t gonna give you a PowerPoint presentation on something fake.”

Tony leaned forward, fascinated. “That wasn’t electricity. The energy was… controlled. Directed.”

“Exactly.” She tapped her notebook. “In my world, chakra can be used in different ways—enhancing physical abilities, creating elemental attacks, illusions, even manipulating space and time.”

Tony leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "So, magic."

From the couch, Loki made a sharp, muffled noise.

Everyone turned to look at him.

Still restrained. Still muzzled. But his eyes were saying so many things.

Shikako raised an eyebrow at him. “You disagree?”

Loki gave her a flat stare.

Thor, cheerful as ever, helpfully translated. “He wishes to remind you that magic is merely science yet to be understood.”

Shikako turned back to Tony. “See? Even Muzzled McGee here agrees.”

Loki made another noise.

Tony sighed. "Okay, fine. Not magic."

Shikako shrugged. "Call it whatever you want. It’s a system of energy manipulation. I trained in it my entire life."

Tony studied her carefully. "And you think you can use this—" he gestured vaguely at her notes, "chakra science—to punch a hole between dimensions?"

Shikako smirked. "Not think. Know."

Tony exhaled, rubbing his temples. "I hate that you’re actually making sense."

Loki, watching this entire conversation unfold like it was the most entertaining thing he had seen in months, turned to Shikako with a pointed expression.

His restraints clinked as he tilted his head ever so slightly.

Shikako smirked.

“You’re thinking the same thing, aren’t you?”

Loki’s eyes gleamed.

Thor flipped another pancake.

Tony’s curiosity deepened.

“You have attempted this before.” It wasn’t a question.

Shikako nodded. “Yes. And I failed.”

Tony perked up at that. "What went wrong?"

Shikako tapped her notes. “I didn’t have enough power to stabilize the portal. I need a secondary energy source. Something strong enough to bridge the gap.”

Tony’s eyes sharpened.

And just like that, they were in business.

Tony rubbed his temples, muttering something about "alternate dimensions and ninja magic—sure, why not."

Shikako ignored him and kept flipping through her notes.

“The problem isn’t opening the portal. It’s keeping it stable,” she explained. “Chakra alone isn’t enough to hold the rift open. I need an external power source—something strong enough to force reality to hold its shape.”

Tony, now fully engaged, grabbed a tablet from the counter and pulled up his own set of calculations. “Okay, let’s say I believe in your spooky energy. You need something that can sustain an interdimensional bridge, right? Like a power source strong enough to punch a hole into another reality and keep it from collapsing.”

Shikako nodded. “Exactly.”

Thor, setting down a fresh plate of pancakes, tilted his head in thought. “You require a force beyond this realm. Something akin to the Bifrost?”

Shikako considered it. “Maybe. The Bifrost is more of a transportation system, but it does manipulate space. I need something similar—but localized and controlled.”

Tony tapped at his screen. “Alright, theoretically, if we’re talking pure energy sources strong enough to alter reality, we’ve got a few contenders.”

He pulled up a list of known powerful materials and objects.

“Nuclear energy? Too unstable.”

“Cosmic radiation? If you want to die of cancer first, sure.”

“Arc reactor? Not nearly strong enough.”

Shikako leaned in, scanning the data. “What about photonic energy? Pure light?”

Tony hesitated. “You mean like gamma radiation? Or—wait, are you thinking…”

Shikako tapped her notes. “Photons exist in both a wave and particle state. If I could harness their full potential, I might be able to use them to stabilize the bridge.”

Tony exhaled. “You’d need an insane amount of them. You’d be dealing with energy on the level of a—”

He stopped.

Shikako raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Tony’s gaze flicked to Loki.

Shikako followed his eyes.

Loki, still restrained and muzzled, had gone very still.

His expression had shifted—from amused observer to calculating.

Shikako narrowed her eyes. “You know something.”

Loki didn’t move.

Shikako sighed. “Thor.”

Thor perked up. “Yes, warrior friend?”

She gestured vaguely at Loki. “Translate.”

Thor grinned. “Ah! My brother believes there may be a source of energy that fits your needs!”

Shikako’s eyes locked onto Loki’s. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?”

Loki’s eyes gleamed.

Tony sighed. “Great. We’re taking science advice from a space terrorist.”

Shikako smirked.

“You got a better idea?”

Loki did not look happy.

Then again, it was hard to tell when his entire mouth was covered in a magical metal muzzle.

Shikako sighed, rubbing her temples. “So let me get this straight.” She pointed at Thor. “You’re saying that, according to Asgardian law, the muzzle has to stay on until his trial?”

Thor nodded gravely. “Indeed. The punishment of the Allfather is not to be taken lightly.”

Tony, unimpressed, gestured wildly at Loki. “Okay, but he clearly knows something useful. And I, for one, would like to get to the part where we stop speaking in riddles and start getting actual solutions.”

Shikako exhaled.

Then, before anyone could argue further, she placed her fingers in a seal and without hesitation, pressed two fingers against Loki’s forehead.

The moment contact was made, Loki’s eyes widened.

Then—his mind opened.

Shikako had never liked Yamanaka techniques. Too invasive. Too much effort.

But she had used them before, and this wasn’t a deep dive—just a surface-level scan.

And wow, Loki’s mind was a mess.

Layers upon layers of thoughts, calculations, deception, and sheer, burning arrogance.

But she wasn’t looking for all that.

She focused.

Filtered through his immediate thoughts.

And there—in the tangled mess of his mind—she found it.

A memory.

A flash of blue.

A cube.

A source of endless energy.

The Tesseract.

Shikako pulled back, blinking rapidly.

Loki’s eyes snapped to hers, sharp and furious, but also—

Amused.

Shikako exhaled, rubbing her temples.

Tony leaned forward. “Well? Did you get anything?”

Shikako sighed.

Then, flatly:

“He says we should steal the Tesseract.”

Silence.

Tony slowly set down his coffee. “Excuse me?”

Thor frowned. “That is—ah, problematic.”

Loki made a muffled noise that was definitely laughter.

Shikako just shrugged.

“Hey, don’t look at me. I’m just the messenger.”

The room was dead silent.

Tony stared at her like she had grown a second head.

Thor’s frown deepened. “Brother, this is madness.”

Loki, still very much muzzled, simply tilted his head, eyes gleaming with something between amusement and anticipation.

Tony exhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, okay. Let’s back up a second.”

He pointed at Shikako. “You’re telling me he—” gesturing vaguely at Loki “—thinks the best way to solve your dimensional travel problem is by stealing a glowing blue cosmic cube of infinite power?”

Shikako, deadpan, nodded. “Yes.”

Tony rubbed his face.

Thor crossed his arms. “The Tesseract is not to be trifled with. It is an artifact of great power, and it is under the protection of Asgard.”

Shikako turned to him. “Okay, but let’s be real—where is it right now?”

Thor hesitated.

Shikako raised an eyebrow.

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. It’s not here, is it?”

Thor sighed. “No. It remains in Asgard. Under lock and key.”

Shikako exhaled. “Of course it is. Because this needed to be more difficult.”

Loki, amused, made a muffled noise that sounded suspiciously like I told you so.

Tony glared at him. “You shut up.”

Shikako tapped her fingers against the table, thinking.

“Alright. So let’s say hypothetically, I did try to use the Tesseract. It’s pure energy, right? Could it actually work?”

Tony sighed. “It’s not just energy. It’s an Infinity Stone. That’s next-level cosmic power. If your math is right—and that’s a big if—then yeah. It could theoretically punch a hole through dimensions.”

Shikako perked up. “See? Progress.”

Thor grumbled. “This is not progress. This is foolishness.”

Loki made another muffled noise.

Shikako turned to him. “What? What now?”

Loki tilted his head again, as if thinking.

Then, very deliberately, he nodded.

Shikako frowned. “You have an idea.”

Loki’s eyes gleamed.

Thor sighed, rubbing his temple. “I do not like this.”

Tony groaned. “Great. Now we’re taking advice from Space Hannibal Lecter.”

Shikako just smirked.

“Well, we wanted solutions.”

The discussion quickly spiraled into full-blown theoretical chaos.

Thor kept insisting the Tesseract was too dangerous. Tony kept arguing the logistics. Loki was silently smug.

“The issue isn’t power,” Shikako said, tapping her notes. “It’s control. If the Tesseract floods the portal with too much energy, it could tear reality apart instead of creating a bridge.”

Tony frowned. “So we need a stabilizer. Something to regulate the output.”

Shikako nodded. “Yeah. In my world, chakra control is key to techniques like this. If we could create something that acts as a—”

“An artificial dampener?”

A new voice entered the conversation.

Shikako turned just as Bruce Banner stepped into the room, already adjusting his glasses as he scanned the mess of notes scattered across the table.

Tony grinned. “Perfect timing, Big Guy. We’ve got interdimensional science nonsense. Thought you might want in.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, looking at the mix of handwritten chakra equations, astrophysics calculations, and what was definitely a poorly drawn doodle of Tony being hit by lightning.

“…I have questions.”

Tony clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t we all?”

Bruce pulled out a chair, eyes narrowing as he examined Shikako’s work. It took him approximately five minutes to fully join in.

“Your energy system follows its own internal logic,” he murmured, flipping through her diagrams. “It’s not too different from how gamma radiation interacts with organic matter.”

Shikako perked up. “That’s what I was thinking! Chakra and radiation both exist as internal and external forces, but they function differently depending on the user’s control.”

Tony gestured wildly between them. “See? This is what happens when you put nerds in a room.”

Bruce ignored him. “And you think the Tesseract could be the key to stabilizing a dimensional bridge?”

Shikako nodded. “It’s the best shot I’ve got.”

Bruce hummed in thought. “Well, in that case, you’d need a way to direct the energy flow without causing a cascade failure…”

And just like that, the conversation shifted into full-blown science mode.

Thor sighed. Loki, despite his restraints, looked deeply entertained.

At some point, Tony suddenly paused.

“Wait a second. We’ve been talking for hours, and I never actually got your name.”

Shikako blinked.

Then, with zero hesitation, she answered,

“Nara Shikako.”

Silence.

Then, abruptly, Thor’s eyes went wide.

Loki stiffened.

And then—

“Shikabane-hime?!”

Shikako died inside.

Her entire soul left her body.

Tony and Bruce looked between them, confused.

“What? What’s a Shikabane-hime?” Tony asked.

Thor looked at her like she had just walked out of legend. “You bear the name of the Shadow Princess! The Dead Princess of Old!”

Shikako buried her face in her hands.

Loki was staring at her.

Hard.

Shikako groaned.

“I hate everything.”

Shikako regretted everything.

Every choice that led her here. Every decision that resulted in Thor looking at her like she was a long-lost mythical figure and Loki staring like he had just uncovered an ancient secret.

Even Tony and Bruce had stopped their science talk to watch this unfold.

“Shikabane-hime?” Tony repeated, looking between her and Thor. “Okay, what kind of dramatic anime title is that?”

Shikako pinched the bridge of her nose.

Thor, still visibly shaken, turned to Loki. “Brother, do you see? She bears the name! The Nara clan’s lost princess! The one who walks in the realm of shadows!”

Loki wasn’t speaking.

Which was more concerning than if he had.

His eyes, sharp and calculating, locked onto Shikako like she had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the room.

And then—he laughed.

A sharp, muffled sound, but undeniably amused.

Shikako’s soul left her body.

Tony, very much enjoying the drama now, leaned forward on the table. “Alright, Princess, wanna explain what the hell they’re talking about?”

Shikako groaned.

“It’s nothing.”

Thor looked personally offended. “Nothing?! The legends of the Nara Shadow Princess are known even in Asgard! A warrior of the unseen! A ruler of the void! She who bends the darkness to her will!”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “So, ninja Batman?”

Shikako glared at him.

Bruce adjusted his glasses. “Historically speaking, Asgardian legends often have some basis in real events. If they recognize your name, it’s possible your clan has had interactions with them before.”

Shikako sighed deeply.

Loki, still restrained, tilted his head, watching her.

His entire expression said Well, well, well.

She wanted to throw him out a window.

Thor, still looking at her with wonder, smiled brightly. “This is truly a momentous occasion! To meet a Nara of legend!”

Shikako, grumbling into her hands, muttered,

“I hate everything.”

Shikako wanted to disappear.

Not in the cool ninja way where she could vanish into the shadows and escape.

No. She wanted to cease existing.

Tony, still enjoying the show, leaned back in his chair. “So, let me get this straight. Not only are you a dimension-hopping science ninja, but you’re also apparently some kind of legendary death princess?”

Shikako groaned.

“No. I’m not.”

Thor ignored her.

“The Nara clan is spoken of in ancient tales! Warriors who command the very shadows! But the princess—ah! The Shikabane-hime—”

Shikako cut him off immediately.

“Don’t. Say it. Again.”

Thor grinned.

Loki laughed—muffled, but still unmistakable.

Bruce, ever the scientist, raised a curious eyebrow. “So, is this just a coincidence? Or is there actual historical basis for this?”

Shikako pinched the bridge of her nose.

“My clan specializes in shadow techniques, and if Asgardians came across a particularly powerful Nara centuries ago, I wouldn’t be surprised if they exaggerated the story.”

Tony smirked. “So… you’re saying you aren’t a legendary shadow princess god?”

Shikako, flat deadpan, said,

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Tony shrugged. “Well, I don't believe you.”

Shikako closed her eyes and counted to five.

Thor, still entirely too excited, turned to Loki. “Brother, does this not confirm what we have always known? That the Nara have walked between realms?”

Loki, still restrained, nodded.

Shikako hated that.

Tony whistled. “Wow. Even Raindeer Games agrees.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed.

Shikako sank into her chair.

Bruce, still fascinated, flipped through her notes. “So, legendary status aside, we still have the issue of actually accessing the Tesseract.”

Shikako immediately latched onto the change of topic.

“Yes. Let’s focus on that. And not the fact that I want to personally fight every Asgardian historian in existence.”

Tony smirked. “You’re gonna be a riot when Thor drags you to Asgard.”

Shikako froze.

Thor perked up. “A most excellent idea! I shall take you before my father! He will be most pleased to meet you!”

Shikako’s soul left her body.

Loki, visibly delighted, made another muffled laugh.

Shikako, voice flat and full of suffering, said,

“I hate all of you.”

Shikako had never been more grateful for Steve Rogers' terrible sense of timing.

Because the moment Steve and James walked in, Tony had just finished saying, “Wow, we should totally take her to Asgard.”

And Shikako was one second away from throwing herself out of Stark Tower’s nearest window.

Steve, clueless as ever, blinked at the room. “…Did I miss something?”

James, who had known Shikako long enough to recognize her ‘I am this close to homicide’ face, looked between her and the grinning Thor. Then at Loki, who was looking far too entertained, and finally at Tony, who was clearly enjoying the chaos.

He sighed. “…Do I even want to know?”

Shikako, dead inside, muttered, “No.”

Tony grinned. “Apparently, our little science ninja is some kind of Asgardian legend. Shikabane-hime, was it?”

James blinked. “…Hime. That’s princess, right?”

Shikako groaned.

Thor nodded enthusiastically. “Indeed! The tales speak of the Nara clan’s death princess! A warrior who commands the shadows, guiding the fallen beyond!”

Steve, who had been drinking water, choked. “She’s what?”

James gave Shikako the most unimpressed look. “How do you just… forget to mention that?”

Shikako scowled. “Because it’s not true.”

Thor, ignoring her, clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Ah! Rogers, my friend, you have the honor of meeting the Shikabane-hime personally!”

Steve, still processing, looked at Shikako.

Then back at Thor.

Then at James, who clearly wanted to be anywhere else.

Steve turned back to Shikako. “…You’re a princess?”

Shikako stared him dead in the eyes.

“No.”

Steve, looking at the Asgardians, hesitated. “…Are you sure?”

Shikako inhaled. Deeply.

James, already knowing where this was going, put a hand on Steve’s arm. “Steve. Buddy. If you keep this up, she’s going to strangle you.”

Steve, processing that information, nodded once and dropped the subject immediately.

Tony, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. “So, did you two have a nice talk? Or was it just awkward silence and brooding?”

James glared.

Steve, slightly less tense now, nodded.

Shikako looked between them, noting the slight tension in James’ shoulders, the way Steve kept glancing at him.

She sighed. “…You two are so emotionally constipated it physically hurts me.”

James rolled his eyes. “And you’re dramatic.”

“I think she’s got a point, though,” Bruce muttered.

Tony nodded. “Oh, absolutely. I’m just waiting for the dramatic reconciliation scene where you both cry it out like a soap opera.”

James glared. Steve looked mildly panicked.

Shikako, now recovered from the Shikabane-hime disaster, just took another pancake.

Loki gave her a pointed look.

She met his gaze.

And, after a moment of mutual understanding, took a second pancake just to spite him.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of Shikako very pointedly eating pancakes while James and Steve continued their silent, tension-filled staring contest.

Thor, still cheerfully oblivious to the atmosphere, gestured at the table. “Friends! You must eat! A proper meal shall strengthen the bonds of brotherhood!”

James and Steve, equally terrible at emotions, avoided looking at each other and sat down.

Shikako chewed her pancake. Slowly. “…So, how’d it go?”

James sighed. “Fine.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Fine.”

Tony snorted. “Wow, you two are great at communication. That was so incredibly informative. I feel like I was there.”

James shot him a look, but Tony was immune to murder stares.

Shikako glanced at James, watching the way his shoulders tensed. Seeing Steve again had definitely shaken something in him, that much was obvious.

She put down her fork and crossed her arms. “…James?”

He hesitated before glancing at her.

She raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

James was quiet for a moment. Then, with an exhale, he nodded. “Yeah.”

Shikako stared at him.

James, knowing her well enough to recognize the 'I do not believe you' face, sighed. “…I will be.”

Shikako held his gaze for another second before nodding. “Alright.”

Steve, watching the silent exchange, frowned slightly. “…You two know each other well.”

Shikako shrugged. “Known him for years,”

James smirked slightly. “And she’s annoying.”

Shikako kicked him under the table.

James didn't even flinch.

Tony, watching this exchange with great amusement, turned to Steve. “So, Cap. What’s the plan now? You wanna take your long-lost war buddy home, or…?”

Steve, still looking at James, hesitated. Then he turned to Shikako. “…Are you staying too?”

Shikako blinked. “…Huh?”

Steve crossed his arms. “You and James clearly look out for each other. And if he’s staying, I figure you are too.”

James looked at Shikako. “…You don’t have to.”

Tony perked up. “Oh, so you are sticking around? I was going to be so offended if you just dropped your science bomb and dipped.”

Bruce nodded. “We were making good progress.”

Shikako snorted. “Sure.”

Loki gave Shikako a pointed look.

Shikako ignored him and stole another pancake.

Thor, grinning, clapped Steve on the back. “Then it is settled! We shall welcome our new companions!”

James looked at Steve.

Steve looked at James.

Something unspoken passed between them.

Then, finally, James exhaled. “…Alright.”

Shikako, watching all of this happen while eating pancakes, chewed thoughtfully.

Well.

This was going to be interesting.

James Barnes was not an idiot.

Shikako might have been the smartest person he knew, but she wasn’t subtle.

Then, he found out about the Tesseract.

And about Asgard.

And about how Shikako was considering stealing an Infinity Stone to rip a hole through dimensions.

His reaction was instant.

“No.”

Shikako, who had been in the middle of a conversation with Bruce and Tony about energy stabilizers, blinked. “…What?”

James’s hands curled into fists.

“You’re not going.”

The entire room went silent.

Shikako raised an eyebrow. “James, we haven’t even—”

“No.” His voice was sharp, firm, final.

Thor tilted his head. “You object?”

James’s gaze snapped to him. “You just said the damn thing is locked up in Asgard. You think I’m letting her waltz into a kingdom of gods for some glowing rock?”

Tony muttered, “Technically, it’s a cube.”

James ignored him.

Shikako sighed, already regretting this conversation. “It’s not about the Tesseract, James. It’s about dimensional stability. I need a power source strong enough to—”

“I don’t care.” James’s voice was low, dangerous. “I’ve already lost too much. You think I’m letting you throw yourself into something this reckless?”

Loki made a muffled noise of amusement.

Shikako shot him a glare.

Thor, ever diplomatic, tried to ease the tension. “Friend James, while Asgard may seem daunting, I would not allow harm to come to Shikako. She is under my protection.”

James’s jaw tightened. “I don’t trust that.”

Thor blinked, genuinely surprised.

Steve, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke. “James. You know she’s capable of taking care of herself.”

James’s fists clenched.

Because yeah, he knew.

Shikako wasn’t weak.

But that didn’t mean he was going to stand by while she did something this stupid.

Shikako, calm but firm, crossed her arms. “James, I’m going.”

His gaze snapped to hers.

“No. You’re not.”

They stared at each other.

A standoff.

Neither backing down.

Loki, watching this unfold, was clearly having the time of his life.

Tony, leaning back in his chair, muttered, “Oof. This is gonna be good.”

Bruce sighed. “Maybe we should all take a minute—”

“I’m going.” Shikako repeated.

James’s eyes darkened.

“Not without me.”

The room went dead silent.

Shikako narrowed her eyes. “…Excuse me?”

James didn’t hesitate. “If you’re doing this, I’m going with you.”

Shikako stared.

Tony let out a low whistle. “Well, damn.”

Steve, watching closely, frowned slightly. “James… you sure?”

James didn’t take his eyes off Shikako.

“I’m not letting you go alone.”

Finally, Shikako groaned and threw her hands up. “Fine! Whatever! But if you die, I’m going to be really pissed off.”

James smirked slightly. “Same to you.”

Shikako sighed. “…We’re both going to regret this.”

James just patted her shoulder. “Probably.”

Shikako, silent for a moment, sighed again.

“…You’re impossible.”

James crossed his arms. “Yeah. And?”

Shikako pinched the bridge of her nose.

This was going to be a headache and a half.

Shikako sighed.

Deeply.

James was still standing there, arms crossed, radiating ‘I’m not budging’ energy.

Thor, who had been watching with great interest, grinned. “Ah! A warrior’s determination! Truly admirable!”

Loki tilted his head as if to say, This is amusing. Please continue.

Tony, ever the instigator, smirked. “So, let me get this straight. Your self-sacrificial, dimension-hopping ninja genius over here wants to steal an Infinity Stone, and you’re countering that by—what, volunteering as tribute?”

James didn’t even look at him. “I’m making sure she doesn’t get herself killed.”

Shikako crossed her arms. “You really think I’m that reckless?”

James gave her a look.

A very pointed one.

Shikako scowled. “I would’ve planned first!”

“Not the argument you think it is.”

Steve, finally stepping in, sighed. “James. You sure about this? Asgard isn’t exactly easy to get to.”

James’s jaw was set. “Doesn’t matter. If she’s going, I’m going.”

Tony whistled low. “Wow. When you attach yourself to someone, you really commit, huh?”

James ignored him.

Shikako groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “James. It’s another planet. Full of gods. What exactly are you planning to do? Punch Odin?”

James shrugged. “If necessary.”

Thor, delighted, slapped James on the back. “Ha! A bold warrior’s spirit! I admire your resolve!”

Loki made a muffled noise.

Shikako pinched the bridge of her nose.

Steve sighed. “James. You don’t even know how to get there.”

James finally looked at Thor.

“…You can take us, right?”

Thor grinned.

Shikako immediately held up a hand. “Oh, no, don’t encourage this.”

Thor laughed heartily. “Why not? A journey to Asgard is a grand undertaking! And I shall ensure no harm befalls either of you!”

James nodded. “Good. Then it’s settled.”

Shikako stared at him.

Then turned to Steve.

Then to Tony.

Then back to James.

“…You realize I could just knock you out and go without you, right?”

James did not blink.

“You won’t.”

Shikako scowled. “…Hate that you’re right.”

Tony clapped his hands together. “Alright! So now we have two emotionally repressed people about to commit intergalactic theft. This just keeps getting better.”

Bruce sighed. “This is a terrible idea.”

Loki, pleased beyond belief, tilted his head as if to say, Oh, absolutely.

Shikako slumped back in her chair, muttering to herself.

The planning session had quickly spiraled into madness.

Tony was still grinning at the sheer absurdity of the situation, Bruce was already mentally preparing for the inevitable disaster, and Steve was one deep sigh away from leaving the room entirely.

Meanwhile, Thor was watching all of this unfold with increasing concern.

James, as expected, was stubbornly refusing to be left behind.

Shikako rubbed her temples. “Okay. So. First attempt—negotiation. We ask for the Tesseract like civilized people.”

Tony snorted. “Yeah, because that always works.”

Shikako ignored him. “If that doesn’t work…”

James, without hesitation, finished for her. “We steal it.”

Thor’s face immediately scrunched in disapproval.

“I do not think you are supposed to discuss your evil plans of stealing from my father in front of me.”

Shikako gave him a flat look. “Thor. You’ve been here this whole time. You knew exactly where this was going.”

Thor winced. “I had hoped it would not reach this conclusion.”

Loki was visibly delighted by everything happening.

Shikako, choosing to ignore the world’s most smug god, continued.

“So, the easiest way to get to Asgard without making things complicated is by going with Loki during his trial.”

Thor frowned. “That is a serious matter. My father will not be pleased if he suspects ulterior motives.”

Tony, deeply amused, pointed at Shikako. “Yeah, ‘cause the Shikabane-hime showing up with an ex-HYDRA assassin isn’t gonna raise any red flags.”

Shikako groaned.

James crossed his arms. “I don’t care. I’m going.”

Steve sighed. “We know.”

Bruce, already resigned to this nonsense, muttered, “So just you two, then?”

Shikako nodded. “Yeah. Any more would be too much.”

Tony stretched. “Cool, cool. So we just sit back while you two possibly start an intergalactic incident. Love that for us.”

Steve gave him a look. “It’s not like we have a choice.”

Tony shrugged. “True. And let’s be honest, this was gonna go off the rails no matter what.”

Shikako clapped her hands together. “Great. So, now that we’ve all accepted the inevitable, can I go back to my research—”

Shikako barely had time to react before Tony and Bruce grabbed her.

“Wait—”

Too late.

One moment she was standing near the table, the next she was being dragged down the hallway.

James, startled, stepped forward. “What the hell—”

Tony waved a hand dismissively. “Relax, Barnes. We’re just stealing your ninja for science. You’ll get her back eventually.”

Bruce nodded, completely unbothered. “It’s fine. She wants to make a dimensional portal. We’re helping.”

James did not look reassured.

Shikako, exasperated, looked over her shoulder at the others.

“You’re all just letting this happen?”

Thor grinned. “A most honorable endeavor! I shall ensure no harm befalls you!”

Steve just sighed. “Honestly, I feel like you brought this on yourself.”

Shikako groaned.

James crossed his arms, glaring. “Fine. But if something happens to her....”

Tony grinned. “Noted! Now, to the lab!”

And with that, Shikako was dragged away to do experiments.

Because apparently, this was her life now.

Several hours later…

Shikako, Tony, and Bruce were still in the lab.

They had not left.

There were empty coffee cups, scattered papers, half-finished calculations on holographic screens, and at least three different theories on stabilizing interdimensional travel scribbled onto a whiteboard.

Tony, running purely on caffeine and spite, was tinkering with a theoretical energy regulator.

Bruce, equally caffeinated but significantly calmer, was running numbers on quantum stability.

Shikako, having fully accepted the madness, was cross-referencing chakra theories with physics equations.

And then—

The doors opened.

Natasha, Clint, and Sam walked in—clearly expecting a normal debrief.

Instead, they were met with:

• Tony Stark talking faster than a man legally should.

• Bruce Banner scribbling quantum physics notes while sipping his fifth cup of coffee.

• A completely unfamiliar woman casually sketching dimensional seals on a blueprint.

There was a long pause.

Then Clint, blinking slowly, said, “…Who the hell is that?”

Shikako, mid-equation, looked up.

“Oh. Hi.”

Sam squinted. “Is she new?”

Bruce, not looking up from his calculations, muttered, “She broke in. Now we’re doing science.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “And no one… stopped her?”

Tony waved a hand. “Look, she had a good reason. And also, she’s annoyingly smart. You should see her notes.”

Natasha, skeptical, looked at Shikako again. “…Right.”

Then she noticed James.

Standing near the back of the lab, arms crossed, looking very much like a bodyguard.

Natasha’s entire body tensed.

Clint, confused but alert, whispered, “…Wait. Is that—?”

Natasha blinked. “…Barnes?”

James stiffened.

Shikako, already sensing the oncoming chaos, sighed. “Guys, let’s not—”

Natasha's hand subtly moved toward her weapon.

James noticed. His posture shifted—ready to react.

Shikako exhaled sharply.

Natasha did not stop staring.

Clint and Sam were also watching James like he was a live grenade.

Shikako, who had been deep in quantum-chakra nonsense for hours, really did not have the energy for this.

James, to his credit, did not move. Didn’t reach for a weapon. Didn’t react.

But his posture? Guarded.

Natasha’s hand? Still way too close to her weapon.

Tony, as always, was the first to break the silence.

“Alright, let’s all take a breath. Yes, you are seeing correctly. That is, in fact, James Barnes. No, he is not currently brainwashed. And yes, we are in the middle of a completely unrelated science project, so maybe don’t start a fight in my lab.”

Natasha’s eyes did not leave James.

“…You expect me to believe that?”

Shikako sighed. “You can believe whatever you want. But if you pull a gun in here, I will be annoyed.”

Clint, still wary, glanced at her. “And you are?”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Right. Introductions. This is Nara Shikako, dimension-hopping ninja scientist god. She and James broke in earlier, and we decided to keep them because she’s a genius and Barnes is—well, stubborn.”

Shikako raised an eyebrow. “You make it sound like I’m a stray dog you adopted.”

Tony smirked. “If the shoe fits.”

Sam, still processing, pointed at James. “Okay, but how do we know he isn’t a threat?”

James finally spoke. “If I was, you’d already know.”

Clint grimaced. “Not exactly reassuring.”

Natasha, still on edge, narrowed her eyes at Shikako. “And you? Why are you here?”

Shikako stretched, cracking her neck.

Then, completely unfazed: “Because I’m trying to go home. And Tony and Bruce are helping me break reality to do it.”

Silence.

Clint blinked. “I feel like I missed a lot.”

Bruce, still typing, nodded. “Yep.”

Tony, grinning, leaned against the table. “Oh, don’t worry. It gets worse.”

Shikako sighed. “Much worse.”

The room was still tense.

James had not moved. Natasha had not stopped staring. Clint and Sam were still confused and suspicious.

Meanwhile, Shikako was debating if it was worth the effort to explain, or if she should just let Tony keep talking and watch them all suffer.

She chose the petty option.

Tony clapped his hands together. “Alright, let’s catch everyone up. Quick summary: Barnes and Ninja Batman here broke into my tower, which, by the way, JARVIS is still mad about—”

JARVIS, chiming in smoothly, “Indeed, sir.”

Tony waved a hand. “Anyway, instead of murdering them, we decided to do science instead. Turns out Shikako here is rewriting physics because she’s not from this universe, and she wants to go home. But to do that, we need an Infinity Stone.”

Natasha’s expression did not change.

Sam stared.

Clint muttered, “…What?”

Bruce, still focused on his calculations, added, “We’re considering stealing the Tesseract.”

Silence.

Then Clint, slowly, “…I feel like I walked into the wrong conversation.”

Natasha’s voice was flat. “You’re planning to steal an Asgardian artifact of limitless power.”

Shikako sighed. “First, we ask for it. Then we steal it.”

Sam shook his head. “That’s not better.”

Thor suddenly appeared in the doorway “Fear not, friends! I shall ensure no harm comes to them in Asgard!”

Natasha turned her stare onto him. “…You’re helping them?”

Thor nodded proudly. “Of course! The Shikabane-hime is under my protection!”

Sam, blinking rapidly, “…The what now?”

Shikako groaned. “Don’t.”

Tony smirked. “Oh, right. Did we forget to mention? Turns out our science ninja is also apparently an Asgardian legend.”

Natasha’s eye twitched.

Clint exhaled deeply.

Sam gave Shikako the most skeptical look ever. “…That sounds fake.”

Shikako pointed at him. “Even he agrees it’s stupid.”

Thor grinned. “Ah! But it is true!”

Natasha, clearly reconsidering all of her life choices, pinched the bridge of her nose. “…I need a drink.”

Shikako sighed. “Yeah. Join the club.”

Between Thor’s enthusiasm, Tony’s never-ending sarcasm, and Clint’s growing exhaustion, the group had somehow ended up in the kitchen.

Natasha, still watching James carefully, had taken up a seat near the edge of the room, keeping an eye on everything.

Sam was asking way too many questions.

Clint was drinking.

Bruce was pretending he didn’t exist.

Tony was talking way too fast about something, even though most people had stopped listening.

Thor was happily drinking mead and loudly declaring everyone his friend.

And Loki—

Well.

Loki was still muzzled.

Which meant he couldn’t say a damn thing.

Shikako, now thoroughly annoyed on his behalf, decided to fix that.

She shifted slightly in her chair, focusing her chakra, before carefully reaching out with a mind link technique.

Loki’s eyes snapped to hers immediately.

The link settled.

And then—

Finally. I was beginning to think you enjoyed the silence.

Shikako smirked. Trust me, I enjoy your silence. I just also enjoy annoying everyone else with you.

Loki tilted his head slightly, eyes gleaming. You wound me, Shikabane-hime.

Shikako winced. If you keep calling me that, I will find a way to kill you.

Loki chuckled—mentally, at least.

Meanwhile, across the room, Tony was ranting about something.

Shikako, still talking to Loki mentally, thought: You know, for someone who preaches strategy, he’s a mess.

Loki’s mental voice was dripping with amusement. Oh, absolutely. It’s a miracle Stark is still alive.

Shikako took a drink of water, unimpressed. At least he’s entertaining.

Loki’s tone turned smug. Oh, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy this.

Shikako side-eyed him. I enjoy watching everyone suffer. It’s different.

Loki laughed.

From across the table, James raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Shikako blinked. “…What?”

James narrowed his eyes. “You’re doing that thing. Where you go silent but look smug. Who are you talking to?”

Shikako took a sip of water. “…No one.”

James glanced at Loki.

Loki, still muzzled, was also looking incredibly smug.

James groaned. “Oh my god. You’re mind-talking with the war criminal.”

Shikako grinned. “You’re just jealous because I don’t let you in on the secret conversations.”

Loki laughed again, mentally. Oh, this is delightful.

Shikako smirked. Told you.

Across the table, Tony finally noticed.

“Wait. Wait. Are you two having mental conversations right now?”

Shikako chewed a piece of food. “Maybe.”

Loki tilted his head mockingly.

Tony groaned. “Oh, that’s so unfair.”

Shikako just smirked.

Loki, mentally, whispered, They will never know peace.

And for the first time all day, Shikako felt truly, deeply understood.

The time had finally come.

Shikako, James, Thor, and Loki were going to Asgard.

Tony had been very dramatic about it.

Bruce had simply sighed, clearly expecting disaster.

Natasha had given James a long, silent stare, then just muttered, “Try not to get arrested.”

Clint had said, “I give it a week before you’re running for your lives.”

Sam had just laughed. “Nah. Three days, max.”

Shikako, who had long accepted her fate, simply ignored them all.

Because the plan was already set.

Loki’s trial was happening now, and Thor had used that as an excuse to bring them along.

Shikako, because ‘Shikabane-hime’ was apparently too legendary to refuse an audience.

James, because he was stubborn as hell and refused to let her go alone.

Steve, Tony, Bruce, and the others? Staying on Earth.

Which meant—

When Heimdall activated the Bifrost and the world turned into a swirl of colors and energy—

It was only the four of them who arrived in Asgard.

The second they landed, James stumbled.

Not much. Barely a shift.

But Shikako noticed.

She smirked. “Not used to intergalactic travel?”

James shot her a mildly annoyed look.

Thor, standing tall, grinned. “Welcome, friends, to Asgard!”

Shikako took it all in. The towering golden buildings, the vast halls, the energy humming in the air.

James stared.

Loki, still restrained and muzzled, gave her a pointed look.

Mentally, he whispered, Try not to embarrass yourself, Shikabane-hime.

Shikako, without missing a beat, replied, Try not to get executed, your highness.

Loki’s eyes gleamed with amusement.

James, noticing their silent exchange, sighed. “Oh god, you’re doing it again.”

Shikako smirked. “What? Bonding?”

James gave her a flat look.

Before he could respond, they were approached by Asgardian guards.

Thor turned to Shikako and James. “You two shall have an audience with the Allfather before the trial. He will wish to see you.”

James crossed his arms. “Sounds like an interrogation.”

Shikako sighed. “It usually is.”

The guards motioned for them to follow.

And with that, Shikako and James stepped forward—walking straight into the heart of Asgardian politics.

Because this was their life now.

The throne room of Asgard was massive.

Golden pillars stretched high into the ceiling, intricate carvings lined the walls, and the atmosphere was heavy with power.

At the far end of the room, seated upon his throne, was Odin.

The Allfather.

Shikako could already tell he wasn’t happy.

His single eye swept over them, unreadable but clearly evaluating. His posture was calm, composed—but there was an undeniable weight in the air.

James, standing beside her, was tense. He was reading the room, recognizing a battlefield when he saw one.

And Loki?

Loki was silent.

Still restrained. Still muzzled. But watching.

Shikako kept her stance neutral. Not too relaxed, not too defensive. Waiting.

Odin’s gaze finally settled on Thor.

“You bring home one traitor and two strangers. Explain.”

Thor, unshaken, stepped forward.

“Father. These are my companions. This is James Barnes, a warrior of Midgard—” he gestured to James, who stiffened slightly at the attention but didn’t react otherwise.

Then Thor turned to Shikako.

“And this… is Nara Shikako.”

He paused.

Then, with great reverence, he added:

“The Shikabane-hime.”

Shikako’s soul left her body.

Odin’s expression shifted.

It wasn’t shock.

But it was something close to recognition.

The room was silent.

Then—the tension shifted.

Odin exhaled slowly.

His initial displeasure at their presence lessened—just slightly.

“Shikabane-hime.” His voice was slow, measured. “I did not expect to hear that name again.”

Again?!

Shikako wanted to die on the spot.

She forced a neutral expression, but internally, she was screaming.

Thor, clearly pleased, nodded. “Indeed! Her presence is a great honor!”

Odin’s gaze was still on her.

Sharp. Calculating.

Like he was trying to decide something.

Then, finally, he leaned back slightly.

“Very well. You may speak.”

Shikako took a slow breath.

Alright.

She had one shot to make this work.

Time to convince the literal Allfather of Asgard to give her the most powerful object in the universe.

No pressure.

The discussion with Odin was… not great.

Shikako laid out her reasoning. She explained the instability of her dimensional existence, the need for a powerful stabilizer, the theory behind using the Tesseract.

Jame stayed close, watching for any sign of aggression.

Thor tried to help, speaking of Shikako’s strength and worth.

Loki, still restrained and muzzled, said nothing.

And Odin?

Odin listened.

But Shikako could see it.

He was going to refuse.

The decision wasn’t official yet, but the way his gaze sharpened, the way his grip on Gungnir shifted—he had already made up his mind.

Shikako exhaled slowly.

Fine.

If he wouldn’t give it to them… they’d just have to take it.

Odin finally spoke. “I will consider your request.”

Shikako, perfectly polite, nodded. “Thank you, Allfather.”

Even though she knew the answer was already no.

And then—

It was time for Loki’s trial.

The courtroom was packed.

Loki stood before the throne, still restrained.

The verdict was obvious. He had committed treason, attempted to take over Midgard, defied Odin.

The only question was his punishment.

Shikako, mentally linked to him out of sheer boredom, listened in as he sat there, silent, as Asgard debated his fate.

…This is stupid, she thought.

Loki’s mental voice was bored. Yes, well. Welcome to Asgardian justice.

So what, they’re just going to throw you in a cell forever?

Loki’s tone was dry. Or execution. Depends on Father’s mood.

Shikako glanced at Odin.

And then, just to make things even worse, Odin declared:

“I shall give my verdict alongside my answer to Shikabane-hime’s request.”

Shikako internally groaned.

James, standing beside her, tensed.

Because that was it.

Odin was tying the two decisions together. Whatever happened to Loki would set the tone for Shikako’s own request.

And they already knew what his answer was going to be.

And then—Loki’s voice, sharp and amused, cut into Shikako’s mind.

I can give you the Tesseract.

Shikako froze.

…Excuse me?

Loki’s mental voice was smooth, smug. You heard me. I know where it is. I will take you there—if you get me out.

Shikako’s first thought was ‘That’s insane.’

Her second thought was ‘That’s actually a good deal.’

Her third thought was ‘Oh no, I’m about to do something really stupid.’

James, noticing her change in expression, whispered. “What?”

Shikako, still staring forward, mentally replied to Loki.

…Deal.

And then, in the single worst decision of her life—

She kidnapped Loki mid-trial.

Everything happened fast.

One second, Loki was standing trial—restrained, muzzled, awaiting judgment.

The next?

Gone.

James and Shikako moved in sync, slipping through the chaos as Asgard erupted into shouts.

The seal Shikako had carved into the Bifrost chamber earlier activated the moment her chakra flared, and with Loki now freed from his restraints, they forced their way through Asgard’s defenses.

Thor shouted after them.

Guards scrambled to react.

Odin rose from his throne, furious.

But it was too late.

The moment Shikako’s hand touched the Tesseract, the seal she had left back on Earth activated.

Tony Stark was having a very nice day.

By which he meant, he was working in his lab while trying to ignore the fact that his idiots had gone to space to commit intergalactic crimes.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “God, I need a—”

The room flashed with blinding light.

A massive pulse of energy ripped through the tower.

And suddenly, standing right in the middle of his lab, covered in dust, blood, and way too much stolen cosmic energy—

Shikako, James, and Loki appeared out of nowhere.

With the Tesseract.

Tony promptly lost his goddamn mind.

“WHAT THE FU—”

An hour later found the lab had been completely transformed into a rift-building station.

Tony and Shikako were working at full speed, calculations flying across holographic screens as they theorized, argued, adjusted formulas, and experimented with energy outputs.

Bruce, though still very much tired of their nonsense, eventually joined in, offering insight into gamma radiation and energy stability.

Loki, surprisingly, was actually helping.

Because while he was still Loki, God of Chaos and Crime™, he was also absurdly smart when it came to manipulating space and magic.

The Tesseract pulsed in the center of the lab, its energy carefully contained by seals and Stark tech.

Shikako, rewriting parts of her dimensional theory, smirked.

“Almost there.”

Tony, grinning, wiped his hands. “One last calibration, and we’re breaking reality, kids.”

James, watching from the sidelines, exhaled sharply.

“…I still think this is a bad idea.”

Shikako grinned. “Yeah, well. It’s happening anyway.”

The energy in the room crackled.

The rift was about to open.

Shikako stood before it, sealing tags in one hand, the Tesseract humming beside her. She was going home.

She had spent years researching, testing, failing. And now, finally, the moment had come.

But—

It was harder than she expected.

James stood with his arms crossed, his jaw clenched, refusing to make eye contact.

Even Bruce looked solemn.

Tony, never one for sentimentality, shoved his hands into his pockets. “So, what, you’re just gonna leave? After breaking into Asgard, committing grand theft cosmic artifact, and permanently scarring my lab?”

Shikako snorted. “Sounds about right.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Figures. At least tell me you left notes. I’m keeping this research, by the way.”

Bruce nodded. “Some of your calculations are… borderline impossible, but they work. I’d like to keep studying them.”

She smirked. “Knock yourselves out.”

Then, she turned to James.

“…You sure you don’t want to come?”

James flinched.

He had thought about it. A part of him had considered stepping through that portal, leaving this world behind, going somewhere where HYDRA had never touched him—

But—

He thought of Steve, of the others, of his life here.

“…I can’t,” he said, voice rough. “This is my mess. I need to clean it up.”

Shikako sighed, then stepped forward and hugged him.

He stiffened for a second before relaxing, arms wrapping around her in return.

“Take care of yourself,” she muttered.

“…You too.”

...

"Tell the others I said goodbye"

She didn’t need to say anything more.

He understood.

Then—

“I’m going with her.”

Everyone froze.

James immediately turned, “Loki—”

“I’ve decided,” Loki said smoothly, crossing his arms. “Asgard has no use for me anymore. Midgard is tedious. But another world? That sounds interesting.”

Tony stared. “You—what—”

“Oh, don’t look so shocked.” Loki smirked.

Shikako raised a brow. “…You’re serious?”

“Completely.”

She thought about it.

Then shrugged.

“Fine. Whatever. Just don’t cause trouble.”

Loki beamed.

Then—

It was time.

Shikako took a deep breath.

With one last look at everyone, she turned, stepped forward—

—and jumped into the rift.

Loki followed.

The portal snapped shut behind them.

And just like that—

They were gone.

The world spun.

Chakra crackled. The air folded in on itself.

And then—

Silence.

Shikako hit the ground first.

She felt grass beneath her fingers, smelled the damp earth and sakura blossoms in the air.

The weight of reality settled in.

She had made it.

She was—

Home.

Loki landed beside her with far less grace. He groaned, brushing dirt off his Asgardian armor. “That was… unpleasant.”

Shikako barely heard him.

She pushed herself up, her hands shaking.

The village spread out before her.

Konoha.

It had changed so little.

The Hokage Monument still stood, the streets were still bustling, shinobi still darted across rooftops. People laughed, shouted, lived.

She was back.

Something in her chest unraveled.

“…It worked.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “It actually worked.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Did you think it wouldn’t?”

“Of course I thought it wouldn’t!” she snapped, then let out a breathless laugh. “You have no idea how much went into this.”

Loki hummed, glancing around. “…Quaint little realm you have here.”

Shikako rolled her eyes but didn’t respond.

She needed to move.

Find Shikamaru. Find her parents. Find the Hokage.

But before she could take a single step—

“しかこ?!”

Shikako

Her head snapped toward the voice.

A group of shinobi stood nearby, staring at her in shock.

Among them—

Shikamaru.

Her twin brother.

Older now, a little taller, but still the same bored expression and sharp eyes.

Except—

Right now, his expression was anything but bored.

“…しかこ?”  Shikako

He repeated, voice quieter.

Her breath hitched.

She opened her mouth—

And suddenly, she was tackled.

Arms wrapped around her.

Shikamaru was hugging her.

"...君は本物だ" he muttered. "君は本当に本物だ"

....You’re real,You’re actually real.

Her throat felt tight.

She hugged him back.

"…ただいま.”

…I’m home

Loki, watching this, sighed.

“Lovely. But what exactly am I supposed to do now?”

Shikamaru blinked at him, then at her.

“…こいつはいったい誰だ"

…Who the hell is this?

Shikako winced.

Oh.

Right.

This was going to take a lot of explaining.