A day later, the sun shone with an intensity that seemed to erase the memories of mist and blood. At the entrance of the newly completed bridge, a magnificent structure of wood and steel that stretched solidly over the water, the Konoha team prepared to depart. They were bruised, bandaged, and their clothes were mended, but they were on their feet.

Across from them, Tazuna, Tsunami, Inari, and almost the entire village had gathered to see them off.

Tazuna stepped forward, rubbing his eyes with the back of a calloused hand. For the first time since they had met him, the old bridge builder didn’t seem grumpy or defiant. He just seemed… old, and deeply grateful.

“Well… I guess this is it,” he said, his voice a hoarse, emotion-filled rasp. “You came here as a bunch of loud, cocky brats. And you’re leaving as… well, you’re still a bunch of loud brats. But you’re also our heroes.”

He turned and pointed to the large wooden plaque they had placed on the bridge’s main pillar. Carved into it, in large, clear letters, was its new name.

“The people wanted to call it the Great Bridge of the Land of Waves,” he said, looking directly at the ninja team. “And that’s a good name. But it wouldn’t be fair. It wasn’t us. It was all of you. The black-haired boy who didn’t give up, the pink-haired girl who protected him, the Hyūga princess who fought with relentless ferocity, the dog boy who gave us a plan, the insect guy who gave us a chance… and the two senseis who led you.”

His eyes, filled with tears he refused to shed, met Kakashi’s and Kurenai’s.

“That’s why its official name will be the ‘Bridge of the Heroes of Konoha’,” he announced, his voice finally breaking. “So that no one in this land ever forgets that when we lost all hope, a handful of Leaf ninjas gave it back to us.”

A respectful silence held for a second, and then the village erupted into an ovation. The cheers and applause echoed through the air, a sound of pure joy and gratitude that enveloped the small group of shinobi.

Naruto scratched the back of his neck, blushing and a little overwhelmed. Kiba grinned from ear to ear, enjoying the recognition. Sakura managed a small smile, though her eyes never left the still form lying on the makeshift stretcher.

In the midst of the celebration, Inari pushed his way through the crowd. He stopped in front of Naruto, his eyes no longer red from crying, but shining with a new, fierce determination.

“Naruto-niichan…” he said, his voice firm.

“Hey, Inari,” Naruto replied, his own voice softer than usual.

The boy clenched his small fists.

“I promise you. I’m not going to cry anymore. I’m done. I’m going to train, I’m going to work hard, and I’m going to get so strong that the next time someone tries to hurt our village, I’ll be the one to protect them. Like a real hero. Just like all of you.”

Naruto looked at him for a long moment, seeing the reflection of his own childhood determination in the boy’s eyes. Instead of a speech, he smiled, a genuine and warm smile, and held out his fist.

“You’d better, crybaby,” he said affectionately.

Inari smiled for the first time, a real smile, and bumped his small fist against Naruto’s. They stayed like that for a second, sealing a wordless promise. Then, without warning, Inari lunged forward and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you,” he mumbled against his jacket. “For everything.”

Naruto, surprised, hesitated for an instant before awkwardly returning the hug. When they separated, they said goodbye with a final wave. The Konoha team turned and began to walk away. They had arrived on a boat and were leaving on one, but the atmosphere was completely different. There was no longer any sadness.

******

Once the cheerful farewell was behind them and they were back on solid ground, the mood shifted. The celebration gave way to the harsh logistics of survival. The journey back to Konoha was long and dangerous, and they were not in optimal condition.

Kakashi stopped, and the rest of the team followed suit. His single visible eye had lost its usual laziness. He was the Jōnin commander, assessing his troops.

“Alright, listen up,” he said, his voice calm but resonant with authority. “Here’s the situation: we have two seriously injured people who can’t travel on their own. Kurenai-sensei is badly wounded, and Sasuke is in critical condition. We can’t move fast, which makes us an easy target. The priority is to get them to Konoha as quickly and safely as possible.”

His gaze fell on the members of Team 8.

“Kiba, Shino. Your task is to build a sturdy, makeshift stretcher for Sasuke. Use your survival skills. I want it stable and secure. Move out.”

“Got it!” Kiba replied, already pulling out a kunai to start cutting branches. Shino nodded silently and headed into the woods in search of suitable vines.

Kakashi turned to the second injured person.

“For Kurenai-sensei…”

“I’ll carry her.”

Naruto’s voice was quiet but unshakable. He stepped forward, his face devoid of its usual goofy grin.

Kurenai, who was leaning palely against a tree trunk, shook her head.

“Naruto, I’m fine, I can walk… The bandage is holding.”

“No, you can’t,” Naruto interrupted, the unusual firmness in his tone surprising her. He looked her directly in the eye, and in his, there was no defiance, only a deep, stubborn concern. “You leaned on me to get out of that swamp and could barely move. Your face is paler than before. Every step you take only makes the wound worse. I’m not going to let you hurt yourself more out of pride. I’ll carry her. It’s my decision.”

A silence fell over the group. Kiba and Shino paused their work to watch. Hinata observed, a mixture of concern and admiration on her face. Sakura looked up from Sasuke for the first time. He was a shinobi making a responsible decision.

Kakashi stared at him, his eye analyzing the boy. He saw the determination, the logic behind his words, and the weight of the responsibility he had willingly shouldered. He nodded once, a gesture of approval.

“Alright. Naruto will carry Kurenai-sensei.”

He turned to the girls.

“Sakura, you will walk alongside Sasuke’s stretcher. Zabuza’s partner stabilized his condition, but you’re the one with the most medical knowledge right now. Your job is to monitor him constantly. Any change, no matter how small, report it to me immediately.”

“Yes, Kakashi-sensei,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

“Hinata, you take point. Twenty meters ahead of the group. Your Byakugan are our best eyes. I don’t want any surprises. Report anything—an animal, a traveler, any chakra flow.”

“Understood, sensei,” Hinata said, her expression serious and professional.

“The rest of us will form a defensive perimeter around the wounded. I’ll take the rear guard. The journey will be slow. Stay alert. Now, get ready.”

The scene unfolded with quiet efficiency. Kiba and Shino finished the stretcher in minutes, a robust frame of branches and vines. Carefully, they placed Sasuke on it. Naruto knelt in front of Kurenai, who, after one last look of resigned protest, allowed him to help her onto his back.

With the formation set, the Konoha team began their long, arduous journey home.

The journey began. The sun filtered through the thick canopy of leaves, creating patterns of light and shadow on the forest floor. The only sound was the crunch of dry leaves under their feet, the gentle creak of Sasuke’s stretcher, and the steady rhythm of their own breathing.

She walked beside the stretcher, her eyes fixed on Sasuke’s pale, motionless face. Her hand, almost of its own accord, would occasionally reach out to touch his forehead, to make sure the slight warmth Haku had managed to restore hadn’t faded. To see him like this—so strong, so proud, the best of their generation, now so fragile and dependent on the strength of others just to be carried… it was breaking her heart. And it ignited a quiet fury within her. Fury at Haku, at Zabuza, at the shinobi world. And most of all, at herself.

I should have gotten stronger sooner, she thought, a bitter, familiar refrain. If I had been more useful, if I could have done more than throw a clumsy punch, maybe he wouldn’t have had to protect me.

Her gaze shifted from Sasuke’s face to the rest of the group.

She saw Hinata, moving twenty meters ahead of them. She walked with a quiet confidence, her pearl-like eyes scanning the forest with a concentration that was almost palpable. Kiba had told her how Hinata had fought in the village. How the girl who could barely speak above a whisper had faced an army, taking down their leader with astonishing ease.

Then, her gaze fell on the figure walking just ahead of her. Naruto.

He was carrying Kurenai-sensei on his back. A grown woman, an elite jōnin, and he walked with a firm, steady pace, as if he were carrying nothing at all. He showed no signs of fatigue. He didn’t complain. Every now and then, Sakura would hear him speak softly to Kurenai, asking if she was comfortable, if she needed water.

And then she looked at herself.

Yes, she had received a power. The “Breakpoint.” She had shattered a boulder. She had knocked Haku back. But she didn’t feel strong enough on this team. It was a power she had received by pure chance. Every time she used it, it left her breathless, her muscles aching and her chakra dangerously low. It was a clumsy, volatile tool she didn’t know how to control.

The old insecurity, the feeling of being weak, of always being the one left behind, returned with crushing force. Sasuke was unconscious. Naruto’s stamina seemed superhuman. Hinata was a prodigy of the Gentle Fist. And her? She was the girl with the one-punch trick. A trick she didn’t even understand.

Naruto gave it to me, she thought, her mind starting to spin, desperate to find an answer, a solution. The Falna. He said it activates with trust. My bond with him, our friendship… it gave me this power. But… what if it’s not enough? What if that was just the initial activation? Kakashi-sensei always says a jutsu has to be practiced, refined. How do you practice… a bond? How do you “recharge” the power of trust?

Trust… she thought. He trusted me with his secret. I trusted him to perform the ritual. That gave us this. But the bond between him and Kurenai-sensei seems stronger. And Hinata’s… she was the first. There must be something more. A way to strengthen it. To make it more… real.

Her mind clung to the idea. Strengthen the bond. How? By talking more? Training together? It seemed too simple, too slow. She needed something now. She needed to understand, to control the power sleeping in her fists before there was another incident.

And then, an idea—so crazy, so embarrassing, and so desperate that it made her cheeks flush—formed in her mind. It was an idea from the storybooks she read in secret, not from scrolls of ninja strategy.

A kiss…

The word popped into her head, and she nearly stumbled.

In stories, a kiss is the ultimate proof of trust, right? It’s… it’s sharing something. A pact. Something you don’t do with just anyone. It’s the strongest bond…

She looked at Naruto’s back. Her heart began to beat faster, out of a terrible, almost clinical, curiosity.

Would a kiss… make me stronger? Would it activate something else in the Falna? Would it give me the control I need?

ItsDevil

 

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