What if naruto exiled and sasuke joind him before chunin exams

Blood dripped from Naruto's clenched fist as he staggered forward, the acrid smell of smoke hanging heavy in the night air. The mission had gone catastrophically wrong. What should have been a simple C-rank escort had exploded into chaos when they'd been ambushed by rogue ninjas three miles outside Konoha's borders.

"Stay back!" Kakashi shouted, his voice cutting through the din of battle as he engaged two attackers simultaneously.

Sakura crouched protectively over their client, a merchant whose wagon lay shattered nearby. Sasuke darted between enemies, his movements precise, deadly—but there were too many of them. When one of the attackers launched toward Sakura, something inside Naruto snapped.

The first wave of red chakra rolled off him like a tsunami, crimson energy crackling across his skin with the scent of burning ozone. His vision tunneled, edges bleeding scarlet as whisker marks deepened into savage furrows. His fingernails lengthened into claws, teeth sharpening to fangs as he let loose a roar that shook the trees.

"Naruto, no!" Kakashi's voice seemed distant, underwater.

The boy was already gone, consumed by rage and the ancient power flowing through his veins. He moved faster than sight, tearing through the ambushers with mindless ferocity. Bodies flew through the air, trees splintered under the force of impacts. In moments, the enemy ninjas lay scattered and broken.

But the chakra wouldn't recede.

It pulsed outward in violent, concentric rings that scorched the earth beneath his feet. Naruto clutched at his head, a sound between a scream and a growl tearing from his throat as he fought against the power consuming him. Through the red haze, he glimpsed Sakura's terrified face, Sasuke's widened eyes, and Kakashi moving toward him with outstretched hands.

"Get back!" Kakashi ordered the others, pulling a sealing tag from his vest pocket. "Naruto, focus on my voice—"

Too late. Another surge of chakra exploded outward. Kakashi barely managed to shield himself, but the blast threw him backward into the debris of the merchant's wagon. When he staggered to his feet, blood trickled from a gash on his forehead.

Then, impossibly, they heard shouting. Villagers. The commotion had drawn farmers from nearby fields, curious onlookers converging on the roadside to witness the disturbance.

"Stay away!" Sakura screamed at them, waving frantically.

The Nine-Tails chakra swirled like a tornado around Naruto, his body at its eye, as civilian bystanders approached. With a final, guttural howl, Naruto collapsed to his knees—but not before the chakra detonated in one final blast that swept across the road.

The screams that followed would haunt him for years to come.

---

"This situation is untenable." Danzo's voice echoed through the council chamber, slicing through the tense silence. "Three villagers hospitalized with chakra burns. A merchant's livelihood destroyed. The boy is a walking catastrophe waiting to happen."

Naruto sat rigidly on a wooden stool at the center of the council chamber, hands gripping his knees until his knuckles turned white. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the room's chill. He'd been here for hours as they debated his fate like he was a piece of furniture rather than a person.

The Third Hokage exhaled a weary breath, tobacco smoke curling around his weathered features. "The seal is holding, but there was unexpected strain during the mission. Kakashi has already explained—"

"With all due respect, Lord Hokage," council member Koharu interrupted, her voice brittle as dried leaves, "explanations do not heal the injured. This is the third incident in two months, each more severe than the last."

Naruto's gaze darted between the faces surrounding him. Most wouldn't even look at him directly, as if the Nine-Tails might leap from his eyes and consume them. Only the Hokage met his stare with compassion, but even the old man's gaze was clouded with worry.

"He's just a child," Iruka protested from the gallery, where he'd been permitted to observe but not participate. "He needs training, not punishment!"

"A child?" Danzo's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "That thing inside him leveled half our village twelve years ago. We've coddled this situation far too long."

Naruto's stomach clenched. He wanted to scream, to explain that he hadn't meant for it to happen, that he'd been trying to protect his team. But his throat had closed up, strangled by fear and the crushing weight of their judgment.

"I move that we classify Uzumaki Naruto as an imminent threat to village security," Homura stated, adjusting his glasses as he glanced at the documents before him. "The evidence is incontrovertible."

The Third Hokage stood, his robes settling around him like armor. "I will not allow this council to execute a loyal shinobi of the Leaf for circumstances beyond his control."

"Then what do you propose?" Danzo challenged, his single visible eye glittering with barely concealed triumph. "Wait until he reduces the village to cinders? The Fire Daimyo is already asking questions."

Silence settled over the chamber, heavy and suffocating.

"There is an alternative to execution," Koharu finally offered, not unkindly. "Exile."

The word hung in the air like a kunai poised to strike.

"Or secure containment within ANBU headquarters," Homura added. "Until a more permanent solution can be implemented."

Naruto's heart thundered in his chest. Prison or banishment. These were his options?

"You can't be serious," the Hokage growled, killing intent flaring briefly before he reined it in. "He is the son of—"

"Careful, Hiruzen," Danzo cut in with a thin smile. "Some secrets are best kept buried, even in this chamber."

The implication silenced even the Hokage. Naruto looked between them, confused by the undercurrent he couldn't decode.

"The boy should be given the choice," Danzo continued, magnanimous in his victory. "Containment or exile. We are not without mercy."

The Hokage's shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly. "The council will take a brief recess while I speak with Naruto alone."

As the council members filed out, Naruto remained frozen on his stool. Only when the door closed behind the last of them did the Hokage approach, kneeling despite his age to meet Naruto at eye level.

"I have failed you," the old man said softly, grief etching deeper lines into his face. "I thought there would be more time to prepare you, to train you to control what's within."

Naruto's lips trembled. "Is it true? Am I really dangerous to everyone?"

The Hokage's silence was answer enough.

"The choice they've given you is no choice at all," he finally said. "Imprisonment would break your spirit. But exile"

"They're throwing me away," Naruto whispered, a lifetime of rejection crystallizing into this single, shattering moment. "After everything I've done to prove myself."

The Hokage placed weathered hands on Naruto's shoulders. "Listen to me carefully. Exile does not mean the end. It means a different path. One day, when you've mastered this power, when you've grown strong enough to control it completely"

"You think I can come back?" Hope flickered, fragile as a candle flame.

The old man's eyes grew distant. "The future is unwritten. But I know this—you carry a legacy greater than anyone in this village understands. In exile, you might find answers I cannot give you here."

Naruto took a deep, shuddering breath. "Then I choose to leave."

"You'll have until dawn to gather your things," the Hokage said. "I've arranged a modest stipend. It isn't much, but it should sustain you until you find your way."

"What about my team? Can I say goodbye?"

Pain flashed across the Hokage's face. "The council has forbade it. They fear complications."

Of course they did. They feared Sasuke, Sakura, or Kakashi might defend him, might challenge the decision. Naruto nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"I understand."

---

Naruto's apartment had never felt smaller than it did that night. Moonlight spilled through the window, illuminating the sparse furnishings—testament to a childhood lived in isolation. He moved mechanically, stuffing clothes and ninja tools into a backpack, his movements becoming increasingly erratic as reality sank in.

With a frustrated cry, he swept his arm across the table, sending instant ramen cups clattering to the floor. Tears burned hot trails down his cheeks as he slid down the wall to sit among the scattered noodles.

This room—this tiny, lonely space—had been his entire world outside the training grounds. And now even this was being taken away.

A soft knock at the door jolted him from his misery.

"Who is it?" he called, hastily wiping his face with his sleeve.

"It's me," came Iruka's voice, gentle but strained.

Naruto scrambled to the door, yanking it open to find his former teacher standing there, eyes rimmed with red.

"You shouldn't be here," Naruto said, even as he stepped aside to let him in. "The council—"

"To hell with the council," Iruka said with uncharacteristic venom. Then his expression softened as he produced a small package wrapped in cloth. "I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye."

Naruto's throat tightened as he accepted the bundle. Unwrapping it revealed a new weapons pouch, heavier and better made than his current one, and a stack of sealed food packages.

"The rations will last a few weeks if you're careful," Iruka explained, voice thick with emotion. "And there's a map marked with safe places to rest between villages."

"Iruka-sensei" Naruto began, but words failed him.

The older ninja knelt, pulling Naruto into a fierce hug. "Listen to me. No matter what anyone says, you are not a monster. You're Uzumaki Naruto, the most stubborn, surprising ninja I've ever taught. This isn't the end of your story."

Naruto clung to him, face buried against his shoulder. "I don't know where to go."

"West, initially," Iruka said, pulling back to look him in the eyes. "There are smaller nations less concerned with Konoha politics. Train. Grow stronger. Learn to master what's inside you."

"And then?"

Iruka smiled sadly. "And then you write your own destiny."

They spent the remaining hours planning routes, discussing survival tactics, and carefully not addressing the gaping wound this departure would leave in both their lives. When the first hint of dawn painted the sky outside, Iruka squeezed Naruto's shoulder one last time.

"It's time."

---

The village gates loomed against the lightening sky, massive and imposing in the pre-dawn stillness. Naruto stood before them, backpack slung over his orange jacket, his headband clutched in his hand rather than worn proudly on his forehead. He couldn't bring himself to leave it behind, but wearing it felt like a lie now.

The guards avoided his gaze as he approached. Word had spread fast.

"Uzumaki Naruto," one of them recited mechanically, "by order of the Konoha Council, you are hereby—"

"I know what I am," Naruto interrupted, voice steady despite the storm inside him. "Just open the gates."

The massive wooden doors groaned as they swung outward, revealing the road that stretched beyond—a pale ribbon disappearing into forest shadows. Naruto took one last look at the village behind him, memorizing the silhouette of the Hokage Monument against the dawn sky.

"I'll be back," he whispered, too softly for anyone to hear. "Believe it."

With shoulders squared and head held high, Uzumaki Naruto walked through the gates of Konoha and into exile, unaware of the multiple sets of eyes tracking his departure from hidden vantage points throughout the village. Unaware that one pair of those eyes—dark and resolute beneath raven hair—was already calculating a path to follow.

Behind him, the gates swung closed with the terrible finality of a coffin lid, sealing away the only home he'd ever known.

Morning light sliced through the training ground in golden shafts, illuminating dust motes that danced like microscopic shuriken in the air. Sasuke arrived first—always first—hurling kunai at wooden targets with methodical precision. Each blade sank deep into painted bullseyes with satisfying thunks, the rhythm of his practice as steady as a heartbeat.

Something felt wrong. The air itself seemed charged, electric with unspoken tension. When he heard footsteps on the path, he turned, expecting to see the familiar shock of blond hair and that irritating, too-bright grin.

Instead, only Sakura appeared, her face drawn and pale. Behind her walked Kakashi, his visible eye lacking its usual lazy indifference.

"Where's the idiot?" Sasuke asked, wiping sweat from his brow. "Oversleep again?"

Neither answered immediately. Sakura's eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"Sasuke," Kakashi finally said, voice unnaturally flat. "There's been a development."

A chill skittered down Sasuke's spine. "What happened?"

"Naruto's gone." The words dropped from Kakashi's mouth like stones.

"What do you mean, gone?" Sasuke's fingers tightened around the kunai in his hand.

"Exiled," Sakura whispered, the word hitching on a half-sob. "They exiled him."

The kunai fell from Sasuke's suddenly nerveless fingers, embedding itself in the dirt at his feet. The sound it made—a dull, insignificant thud—seemed impossibly loud in the silence that followed.

"That's not possible," he said, each word precise and cold. "He's part of Team Seven."

Kakashi's eye closed briefly. "The council made their decision yesterday. He left at dawn."

"And you let this happen?" The accusation burst from Sasuke, sharp as a blade. His dark eyes narrowed dangerously, pinning his sensei like a specimen.

"It wasn't his fault!" Sakura protested, but Sasuke had already closed the distance to Kakashi, standing toe-to-toe with the jōnin.

"You're supposed to be our teacher," Sasuke hissed, fury radiating from him in palpable waves. "You're supposed to protect your team!"

Kakashi didn't flinch. "There are forces at work here beyond what you understand, Sasuke."

"Then enlighten me," Sasuke snarled, Sharingan flaring to life, tomoe spinning with his rage.

"The council deemed Naruto dangerous after what happened during our last mission," Kakashi explained, his tone carefully measured. "They gave him a choice—imprisonment or exile."

"Dangerous?" Sasuke scoffed, the word bitter as ash in his mouth. "He saved us!"

The memory crashed through him with visceral intensity—air thick with the stench of blood and fear, the mission spiraling catastrophically out of control

---

Three days earlier

Rain pelted them mercilessly, turning the forest floor into treacherous mud that sucked at their sandals. The client—a merchant transporting sealed documents—huddled beneath a makeshift tarp, his earlier complaints silenced by genuine terror.

They'd been ambushed not once but twice already. This wasn't the C-rank mission they'd been promised.

"Something's not right," Sasuke muttered, Sharingan activated as he scanned the darkening woods. "These aren't ordinary bandits."

"Yeah, I noticed when the last one tried to barbecue us with a fire jutsu," Naruto shot back, rubbing a scorched sleeve. Despite his flippant tone, his blue eyes remained vigilantly alert.

Sasuke smirked. The dobe was irritating, but he'd improved.

"We're being herded," Kakashi confirmed, appearing beside them in a silent blur. "Someone wants our client's documents badly enough to hire ninja."

"Then we give them what they want!" the merchant whimpered. "The documents aren't worth our lives!"

Kakashi shook his head. "Our mission is to deliver those documents intact. That's what Konoha was paid to do."

Lightning split the sky, and in its momentary brilliance, Sasuke glimpsed movement—a shadow detaching from a tree fifty meters ahead.

"Three o'clock," he whispered, fingers already forming seals.

The attack came with brutal suddenness—not from three o'clock, but from directly above. Black-clad figures dropped from the canopy like deadly rain, steel glinting in their hands.

"Protect the client!" Kakashi barked, vanishing in a blur of movement to engage the nearest attackers.

Sasuke launched himself into combat, body moving with the liquid grace his clan was known for. His Sharingan tracked every movement, predicting strikes before they came. One attacker fell, then another.

But there were too many.

A scream pierced the din of battle—Sakura. Sasuke whirled to see her desperately fending off two assailants while trying to shield the cowering merchant. Blood matted her pink hair where a blade had grazed her scalp.

Sasuke calculated the distance—too far. He'd never make it in time.

Then he heard it—a sound like tearing fabric, followed by a guttural roar that raised every hair on his body. The air temperature plummeted, then surged scorching hot. Crimson chakra erupted from Naruto's position like a volcanic blast, his silhouette transforming within its baleful glow.

What happened next defied belief. Naruto—if that creature still was Naruto—moved faster than even Sasuke's Sharingan could fully track, leaving streaking afterimages in his vision. The attackers targeting Sakura were simply gone, their bodies hurled through trees with sickening force.

Sasuke watched, transfixed, as Naruto carved through their enemies with bestial ferocity. This wasn't the loud-mouthed idiot who constantly challenged him. This was something else entirely—something ancient and terrifying.

An attacker materialized behind Sasuke, blade descending toward his exposed back. Before he could react, a clawed hand erupted from the ninja's chest in a spray of crimson. Naruto stood there, eyes burning red, whisker marks carved deep into flesh that seemed stretched over an inhuman skull.

"Don't. Touch. My. Friend," Naruto growled, voice layered with an otherworldly resonance that made Sasuke's blood run cold.

The ninja's corpse slid to the ground with a wet thud. Naruto's eyes locked with Sasuke's, and for one heartbeat, Sasuke saw something flickering behind the rage—desperate fear and a plea for understanding.

Then the chakra surged again, and control slipped away entirely.

---

"He saved my life," Sasuke said flatly, snapping back to the present. "And this is how the village repays him?"

Kakashi sighed, shoulders sagging minutely. "The council doesn't see it that way. They see the Nine-Tails breaking loose, injuring civilians."

"Cowards," Sasuke spat. "And hypocrites."

"Be careful, Sasuke," Kakashi warned, voice dropping. "Criticizing the council openly is dangerous right now."

"Are you threatening me?" Sasuke's eyes narrowed.

"I'm trying to protect what remains of my team," Kakashi replied, a hint of steel entering his tone. "Don't make that harder than it already is."

Sasuke stepped back, face settling into the cold mask he'd perfected years ago. "When were you going to tell us? After he was gone? After everyone forgot he ever existed?"

"We weren't allowed to know before it happened," Sakura interjected, voice small. "Kakashi-sensei only found out this morning, like we did."

Sasuke's jaw tightened. Without another word, he turned and walked away, ignoring Kakashi's call to return.

"Training is canceled," he heard the jōnin say wearily as he disappeared into the trees.

---

The Uchiha compound stood silent and empty, a graveyard of memories that Sasuke endured rather than inhabited. Today, its oppressive silence matched his mood perfectly. He stalked through abandoned streets, past homes where ghosts lived more vividly than he did, until he reached his destination—the clan's hidden meeting hall beneath the Nakano Shrine.

Dust motes swirled in the beam of light that followed him down the stone steps. No one came here anymore. No one but him.

The stone tablet—ancient and indecipherable to anyone without Sharingan—stood sentinel at the room's center. Sasuke ignored it, moving instead to the hidden compartment beneath the seventh tatami mat. Inside lay the records his father had kept as clan leader—the only documentation of Uchiha history not confiscated after the massacre.

Sasuke had read these scrolls dozens of times, searching for clues about Itachi, about why his perfect brother had shattered their world. Today, he sought something different—information about the Nine-Tails attack twelve years ago.

The connections had never interested him before. The demon fox's rampage was simply background noise to his own tragedy. But now, with Naruto exiled for containing the very beast that had attacked Konoha, Sasuke found himself hunting for threads that might connect these disparate calamities.

Hours passed as he pored over brittle parchment, the room growing darker as daylight faded. His eyes ached from sustained Sharingan use, but he refused to deactivate it, knowing certain passages were coded to be visible only to his bloodline's eyes.

Then he found it—a single entry in his father's precise handwriting, dated one week before the Nine-Tails attack:

"Council suspicions intensify. Danzo's ROOT operatives observed at compound perimeter again. Hokage assures me investigations are unnecessary, but his words ring hollow. Our police force is increasingly restricted. They fear what they do not control—our eyes that see too much."

And then, dated the day after the attack:

"Unprecedented restrictions imposed. Uchiha confined to district perimeter, removed from ANBU positions. The whispers have begun—that we controlled the Nine-Tails, that we engineered the attack. No evidence presented, no charges filed, yet we stand convicted. Elders counsel patience, but for how long must we endure such humiliation? The Sharingan's power is our birthright, not our shame."

Sasuke sat back, mind racing. The village had suspected the Uchiha of controlling the Nine-Tails? And then isolated them, just as they were now exiling Naruto? The parallels were too striking to ignore.

A floorboard creaked overhead, jolting Sasuke from his thoughts. He wasn't alone.

In a fluid motion, he sealed the scrolls, replaced the tatami, and melted into the shadows, kunai drawn. Footsteps descended the stone stairs—unhurried, deliberate. Not trying to mask their presence.

The figure that appeared in the doorway wore standard ANBU gear, but something about the mask seemed off—not quite regulation. A stolen uniform, perhaps.

"Uchiha Sasuke," the figure said, voice distorted behind the porcelain mask. "Seeking answers in dust and ashes?"

Sasuke attacked without warning, Sharingan tracking the figure's subtle weight shift that telegraphed their dodge. The kunai embedded in the wooden doorframe exactly where the intruder's head had been a millisecond earlier.

"Impressive," the figure remarked, making no move to counter-attack. "Your brother would be proud."

White-hot rage flooded Sasuke's veins. "Don't you dare speak of him!"

"But I come bearing his message," the figure replied, producing a small scroll from within their cloak. "Itachi sends his regards."

The world seemed to tilt beneath Sasuke's feet. "You're lying. Itachi wouldn't send a messenger."

"Not usually, no." The figure set the scroll on the floor and stepped back. "But circumstances change. The Nine-Tails jinchūriki's exile has accelerated certain plans."

"What plans? What does Naruto have to do with my brother?" Suspicion and curiosity warred within Sasuke.

The figure tilted their head, mask catching the dim light. "Ask yourself this, young Uchiha—why would the council exile a weapon as powerful as a jinchūriki? Why now, when whispers of war grow louder beyond Fire Country's borders?"

"You haven't answered my question," Sasuke growled.

"Read the scroll," the figure replied, already backing toward the stairs. "But not here. Some secrets are better revealed under open sky, away from walls that have witnessed too much bloodshed already."

Before Sasuke could respond, the figure vanished in a swirl of leaves—a body flicker technique executed with exceptional skill.

The scroll remained, innocent-looking yet radiating menace.

Sasuke approached it cautiously, half-expecting a trap. His Sharingan revealed no chakra triggers, no explosive tags. Just paper and ink. He snatched it up and left the shrine, suddenly desperate for fresh air.

---

Night had fallen by the time Sasuke reached the Hokage Monument, settling on the stone head of the Second Hokage—the one who, history said, had been most suspicious of the Uchiha. Fitting, Sasuke thought bitterly.

The scroll lay unopened in his hand, heavy with potential revelations. Part of him wanted to destroy it unread, to reject anything connected to Itachi. But the mention of Naruto's exile being connected to his brother was a puzzle piece he couldn't ignore.

With decisive movement, he broke the seal and unrolled the parchment.

The message was brief, written in a cypher he recognized from childhood—a secret alphabet he and Itachi had created during happier days. His throat tightened at the sight of it.

"Little brother—

The world is layered in lies. The strongest shinobi sees beneath deception to truth.

Ask yourself:

Why did the Nine-Tails attack precisely when it did?

Why were the Uchiha blamed without evidence?

Why has the jinchūriki been exiled when the village faces its greatest threats in decades?

Why was I ordered to—"

The final line was smudged, rendered illegible by what looked like water damage. Or tears.

The signature was not Itachi's name, but a simple ink drawing of a crow.

Sasuke read and reread the message until the characters blurred before his eyes. Ordered to what? The truncated question burned in his mind, feeding speculation that sprouted like poisonous weeds.

Ordered to kill the clan? By whom? For what purpose?

Dawn found him still perched on the monument, the pieces of a terrible puzzle slowly assembling in his mind. Council suspicions of the Uchiha. Naruto's unexplained exile. His brother's cryptic message.

Below him, Konoha stirred to life, villagers emerging to begin their daily routines, blissfully unaware of the secrets that might rot the very foundations of their peaceful existence.

Sasuke made his decision as the sun breached the horizon, painting the village in deceptively warm golden light. He would find Naruto. Together, they would discover truths that neither could uncover alone.

He returned to the empty Uchiha compound one last time, packing with ruthless efficiency. Weapons, scrolls, provisions, medicine—only essentials, nothing that would slow him down. His fingers hesitated over the framed photo of Team Seven, the only personal item in his spartan room.

After a moment's hesitation, he removed the picture from its frame and tucked it into an inner pocket, close to his heart.

The village gates loomed ahead, the same gates Naruto had passed through twenty-four hours earlier. Sasuke approached with deliberate calm, his hitai-ate conspicuously absent from his forehead, instead tied securely around his arm.

The guards straightened as he approached. "Uchiha-san," one greeted with respectful wariness. "Early training mission?"

Sasuke nodded curtly. "Kakashi-sensei's orders."

The lie slipped easily from his lips. The Uchiha weren't suspected of anything officially—not yet. Being the last survivor of a noble clan still carried certain privileges, including the benefit of the doubt.

"Sign out here," the guard said, offering a logbook. "Expected return time?"

"Sundown," Sasuke replied, scrawling his name with deliberate messiness, making it difficult to decipher later.

The gates creaked open, revealing the road that stretched into the surrounding forest. The same road Naruto had taken, alone and rejected. Sasuke stepped through without looking back, his path now aligned with the one person in Konoha who might understand what it meant to be betrayed by the very village that claimed to protect you.

When he was certain he'd passed beyond the range of Konoha's perimeter sentries, Sasuke veered sharply west, following a barely visible game trail into dense underbrush. Naruto would have headed west—it was the logical choice, offering the quickest route to smaller countries less influenced by Konoha politics.

As he moved deeper into the forest, a strange lightness filled Sasuke's chest—not happiness, exactly, but something adjacent to freedom. For the first time since the massacre, he was moving toward something instead of running from shadows.

"You always were a loudmouth idiot," he muttered to the absent Naruto, lips curving in the ghost of a smile. "But maybe, just maybe, you were right about one thing."

He leapt to a higher branch, scanning the horizon where the morning sun illuminated endless green canopy.

"Sometimes the people who are supposed to protect you are the ones you need protection from."

With that declaration to the empty forest, Uchiha Sasuke—last loyal son of Konoha's most prestigious clan—became a missing-nin, chasing after the one person who had somehow, against all odds, become his most important bond.

Naruto's campfire sputtered against the encroaching darkness, casting restless shadows across the small clearing. Two days into exile, the reality of his situation had settled into his bones like a chill he couldn't shake. His hands moved mechanically, turning a skinned rabbit on a makeshift spit while his mind wandered through the ruins of what his life had become.

The snap of a twig in the underbrush jolted him to attention. In a heartbeat, he'd doused the fire with dirt and crouched in shadow, kunai glinting between white-knuckled fingers. He'd been careless—a fire was a beacon to anyone hunting him.

Another sound, closer now. Not the random pattern of wildlife but the deliberate placement of feet trying to move silently. Naruto's heartbeat drummed in his ears as he melted deeper into darkness, cursing his bright orange jacket. Should've ditched it for something less conspicuous. Too late now.

The intruder slipped into the clearing like liquid shadow, movements precise, controlled. Moonlight glinted off raven-black hair.

"I know you're there," a familiar voice cut through the stillness. "Your breathing is too loud. Always has been."

Naruto exploded from the shadows, tackling the figure with enough force to send them both crashing into the remains of the campfire. They rolled across dirt and embers, a tangle of limbs and furious energy until Naruto found himself pinned, a knee pressed into his chest and cool steel against his throat.

"Typical," Sasuke muttered, dark eyes reflecting starlight from above. "Attack first, think never."

"Sasuke?!" Naruto gasped, disbelief warring with sudden, irrational hope. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Sasuke released his hold and stood in a single fluid motion, brushing dirt from his clothes with fastidious disgust. "Looking for you, obviously."

Naruto scrambled to his feet, tension humming through his body. "Did they send you to bring me back? Or just to finish me off?"

The accusation hung in the night air between them. Sasuke's expression hardened.

"If I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Then what?" Naruto demanded, voice cracking with emotions he couldn't contain. "Come to gloat? See the demon fox in exile? Get your laughs and head back to your perfect life in the village?"

"Perfect?" Sasuke's laugh was a brittle, haunted sound. "You don't know anything, do you?"

They stared at each other across the ruined campsite, two boys barely into their teens, both carrying burdens heavier than any child should bear. The silence stretched taut between them.

"They threw you away," Sasuke finally said, each word precise as a thrown senbon. "Just like they discarded my clan after the Nine-Tails attack. Used us, feared us, then cast us aside when we became inconvenient."

Naruto's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about patterns," Sasuke said, pacing now, energy radiating from him in almost visible waves. "The Uchiha were isolated after the Nine-Tails attack—blamed without evidence, restricted, monitored. And now you, the Nine-Tails jinchūriki, suddenly exiled when Konoha faces growing threats?"

"So what? You came to, what—study me? Like I'm one of your clan scrolls?"

"I came," Sasuke said, halting his pacing to lock eyes with Naruto, "because I left the village too."

The words hit Naruto like a physical blow. "You WHAT?"

"I left," Sasuke repeated, something like grim satisfaction flickering across his features. "What's the point of staying in a village built on lies? A place that would exile my—" He broke off abruptly, jaw tightening.

"Your what?" Naruto pressed, taking a step closer.

"Teammate," Sasuke finished, but the slight hesitation betrayed him.

Naruto's eyes narrowed. "Bullshit. Since when do you care about teammates? You've spent every day since we formed Team Seven acting like we're beneath you."

"And you've spent every day being an idiot!" Sasuke snapped, temper fraying. "But when that chakra came out, when you lost control—you saved my life. The Sasuke Uchiha you think you know would never admit that, would he?"

The direct acknowledgment stunned Naruto into momentary silence. He searched Sasuke's face for signs of mockery or deception but found only raw, uncomfortable honesty.

"You really left?" Naruto finally asked, voice smaller than he intended.

"I really left," Sasuke confirmed. "Walked out the same gates you did."

"Why?" The question was barely above a whisper.

Sasuke's hand drifted to his pocket, where the scroll from the mysterious ANBU lay hidden. "Because there are truths I need to find. Answers about my brother, about what really happened to my clan. And" He seemed to wrestle with himself before continuing. "And I think those answers are somehow connected to you and the Nine-Tails."

Naruto's hand unconsciously drifted to his stomach, where the seal lay hidden beneath his tattered jacket. "So we're what—exile buddies now?" He couldn't keep the skepticism from his voice.

"We're two shinobi with compatible goals and complementary skills," Sasuke replied pragmatically. "Alone, we're vulnerable. Together, we have a better chance of survival and finding answers."

Naruto barked a laugh. "Wow, you really know how to make a guy feel wanted."

The ghost of a smirk flitted across Sasuke's face. "Need me to write you a love letter, loser?"

Just like that, something shifted between them—a tension breaking, falling away. Not friendship, exactly. Not yet. But possibility.

Naruto snorted, then gestured to the ruined campsite. "Well, since you scared away my dinner, you can help me set up camp again."

---

Dawn painted the forest in watercolor washes of pink and gold as Naruto and Sasuke faced each other across a small stream. Their meager possessions lay organized with military precision on a spread tarp—the results of Sasuke's insistence on cataloguing their resources.

"This is it?" Sasuke scowled at the collection. "Instant ramen and explosive tags? That's your survival kit?"

"Hey, those are quality explosive tags!" Naruto protested, pointing accusingly. "And the ramen has all four food groups!"

"The four food groups of what—salt, more salt, MSG, and desperation?"

"Better than your fancy-pants ration bars. They taste like cardboard dipped in sadness."

"They're nutritionally complete and don't require cooking," Sasuke countered, arranging his own supplies with methodical care. "Fire attracts attention."

Naruto sighed dramatically. "Fine, Mr. Survival Expert. What's the plan then?"

Sasuke unfolded a worn map, weighing its corners with small stones. "First, we need to leave Fire Country entirely. Hunter-nin will be searching border regions, but they'll assume we'd head for allies or familiar territory."

"So we go somewhere totally random?"

"We go somewhere unexpected," Sasuke corrected. "Minor villages with no strong ties to Konoha. Places where foreigners aren't unusual."

Naruto peered at the map, finger tracing potential routes. "What about Wave Country? We've been there before, and Inari's family might help us."

"Too obvious," Sasuke dismissed. "That's the first place they'd check, given our history there."

"Okay, then where?" Frustration edged Naruto's voice.

Sasuke's finger tapped a small region to the far northwest. "The Land of Rivers. Small enough to avoid major political entanglements, numerous enough waterways to cover our tracks, and it borders three other nations for quick escape if needed."

Naruto studied the map with surprising intensity. "That's at least a week's travel."

"More like two, since we need to avoid main roads and established routes."

"Two weeks?!" Naruto flopped back on the grass with a groan. "We'll starve by then."

"Not if we're smart," Sasuke said, already moving to divide their supplies into two equal packs. "We hunt, forage, and ration. And we train constantly while traveling."

Naruto sat up, interest piqued. "Train?"

"You think I left the village just to become a wandering nobody?" Sasuke's eyes gleamed with purpose. "I'm going to keep getting stronger. Strong enough to face Itachi when the time comes."

"And I need to control this," Naruto said quietly, palm resting over his seal. "Prove the village wrong about me being dangerous."

Sasuke studied him for a moment. "Then we have our objectives. Travel northwest, avoid detection, train daily, and survive long enough to find the answers we need."

"Sounds simple when you put it like that," Naruto said with a wry smile.

"Nothing about this will be simple," Sasuke replied, but there was no bite to his words. Just pragmatic acceptance.

They finished packing in companionable silence, each lost in private thoughts. When they shouldered their packs and took to the trees, moving in the easy rhythm of trained shinobi, it felt almost natural—as if they'd been partners for years rather than reluctant teammates forced together by circumstance.

---

They'd been traveling for three days, keeping to dense forest and moving only at dawn and dusk when the shadows were longest. Sasuke insisted on changing direction frequently, doubling back and using streams to mask their scent trail. Naruto had initially chafed at what seemed like paranoia, but on the third day, he understood.

"Down!" Sasuke hissed, dropping flat against a massive tree branch.

Naruto followed instantly, breath caught in his throat as a patrol of four masked figures flashed through the canopy a hundred yards to their left. Even at that distance, the porcelain masks and distinctive armor were unmistakable.

"ANBU," he whispered once they'd passed out of earshot.

"Hunter-nin," Sasuke corrected grimly. "Standard tracking formation. They're looking for us."

"How do you know?"

"My brother was ANBU," Sasuke said tightly. "I used to watch their training formations when I was young."

They remained motionless for ten agonizing minutes, until Sasuke finally signaled the all-clear. As they resumed their cautious progress, Naruto couldn't shake the chill that had settled between his shoulder blades.

"They won't give up, will they?" he asked quietly.

"A jinchūriki and the last loyal Uchiha?" Sasuke shook his head. "We're too valuable to lose track of."

The reality of their situation hung heavily between them as darkness fell. They made camp in the hollow trunk of a fallen giant, a space barely large enough for two but perfectly concealed from passing eyes. No fire tonight—the risk was too great.

Sasuke produced a tightly rolled scroll from his pack, spreading it on the ground between them. "We need a plan for when they catch up to us."

"You mean if," Naruto corrected stubbornly.

"When," Sasuke insisted. "They have tracking specialists, sensory types, and resources we don't. It's just a matter of time."

"So what, we just give up? Let them drag us back?"

"No." Sasuke's voice hardened. "We prepare to fight. And to win."

He unrolled the scroll further, revealing diagrams of combat formations and jutsu specifications. To Naruto's surprise, many featured combinations of his own techniques with Sasuke's.

"You made this?" Naruto asked, genuinely impressed.

"Last night while you were snoring," Sasuke confirmed. "We need to leverage our strengths. Your massive chakra reserves and shadow clones paired with my Sharingan and fire techniques."

Naruto studied the diagrams intently. "This could work. But some of these combinations will need practice."

"That's why we'll drill them every morning and evening," Sasuke said. "Starting now."

"Now? It's practically midnight!"

"An enemy won't wait for convenient hours to attack," Sasuke replied, already moving toward the edge of their shelter. "Coming or not?"

With a groan that concealed his grudging admiration, Naruto followed.

---

The hunter-nin attacked two days later.

They came at mid-morning, when the sun glinted blindingly through the forest canopy. No warnings, no demands for surrender—just the whispered death of kunai slicing through air and the sharp tang of chakra flaring to life.

Sasuke sensed them first, Sharingan blazing to life as he shoved Naruto aside. A heartbeat later, explosive tags detonated where they'd been standing, showering the forest floor with splintered wood and scorched earth.

"Four of them," Sasuke called, back-to-back with Naruto now in the small clearing created by the explosion. "Two o'clock and ten o'clock, high. Six o'clock and three, ground level."

Naruto's hands flew through familiar seals. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

A dozen perfect copies burst into existence, creating instant chaos in the clearing as they charged in different directions. The real Naruto remained centered, chakra already gathering in his palm. "Buy me thirty seconds!"

Understanding flashed across Sasuke's face—Formation Three from their practice sessions. He nodded once, then blurred into motion.

The first hunter-nin dropped from the canopy like a striking hawk, tanto blade glinting with chakra enhancement. Sasuke met the attack head-on, Sharingan tracking each microscopic movement, body responding with fluid precision. Steel rang against steel, a percussive soundtrack to the deadly dance.

"Leaf shinobi," the hunter-nin hissed through his mask. "Stand down. This doesn't need to end in your deaths."

"Funny," Sasuke replied coldly. "I was about to say the same to you."

A second ninja appeared at his flank, but three of Naruto's clones intercepted, buying precious seconds as Sasuke disengaged with a backward flip, hands already forming signs.

"Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"

Dozens of small fireballs erupted from his lips, scattering in seemingly random patterns that forced the hunter-nin to dodge in predetermined directions—exactly as planned.

Behind him, Naruto's chakra swirled visible in the air, a miniature maelstrom condensing into his outstretched palm. "Ready!"

"Now!" Sasuke called, completing another set of seals. "Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"

A massive sphere of roaring flame engulfed the clearing's center, forcing the hunter-nin back toward the periphery—directly into the path of Naruto's charging clones, each wielding a crackling, spiraling orb of pure chakra.

"RASENGAN!"

The synchronized attack caught two of the hunter-nin simultaneously, the devastating spirals of chakra slamming into their torsos and launching them through the forest like rag dolls. Trees shattered in their wake as they disappeared from view.

"Two down!" Naruto called triumphantly.

"Focus!" Sasuke snapped, narrowly avoiding a water jutsu that sliced through the air where his head had been moments before. "Formation Seven!"

They moved in perfect synchronicity now, Naruto creating a circular perimeter of clones while Sasuke charged his blade with lightning chakra. The remaining hunter-nin circled warily, recognizing the unexpected level of coordination between their targets.

"Surrender now," the lead hunter-nin called, voice muffled behind his mask. "By order of the Hokage, you are to return to Konoha immediately."

"Funny how the old man wants me back after throwing me away," Naruto shouted, genuine anger crackling through his voice. "Tell him I'm not his weapon anymore!"

The hunter-nin's head tilted slightly. "The Uchiha heir was not exiled. His return will be met with leniency if he complies now."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I go where he goes."

A moment of tension stretched between them, four shinobi balanced on the knife-edge of violence. Then the hunter-nin's hands blurred into motion.

"Water Style: Water Dragon Bullet!"

A massive serpentine form materialized from a nearby stream, lunging toward the boys with crushing force. At the same moment, the second ninja appeared behind them, chakra-enhanced wire glinting as it whipped through the air to entangle them.

"Now, Naruto!" Sasuke called, Sharingan spinning wildly.

Naruto's chakra exploded outward—not the Nine-Tails' red energy but his own massive reserves, channeled through a dozen clones simultaneously. They formed a barrier of spinning chakra that shredded the water dragon on contact, sending spray in all directions.

In the momentary blindness caused by the water, Sasuke struck. Lightning coursed along his blade as he severed the chakra wire and lunged toward the wire-wielder. The hunter-nin barely managed to avoid a killing blow, but Sasuke's blade sliced deep across his shoulder, electricity paralyzing the arm beneath.

"We need to run," Sasuke called, already calculating their escape. "Northwest, fast as you can!"

"But we're winning!" Naruto protested, his clones harrying the remaining hunter-nin effectively.

"More will come," Sasuke insisted. "This was just the first wave!"

Naruto hesitated, then nodded. "Cover me for ten seconds."

Sasuke didn't question, immediately engaging both hunter-nin to create the space Naruto needed. The blonde's hands moved through unfamiliar seals, chakra gathering in patterns Sasuke had never seen before.

"Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!"

The gale that erupted from Naruto's outstretched palms was powerful enough to flatten trees in a sixty-degree arc, catching both hunter-nin and hurling them backward through the forest like autumn leaves. The roar of splintering wood and howling wind would be audible for miles.

"That's our window!" Naruto shouted over the diminishing gale. "Let's go!"

They bolted northwest, pushing chakra into their legs for speed that blurred the forest around them. For nearly an hour they maintained the punishing pace, until Sasuke finally signaled a halt at a small, rocky stream.

"We need to mask our trail," he gasped, sweat pouring down his face. "Water walking. Three miles upstream, then switch banks."

Naruto nodded, equally exhausted but eyes bright with exhilaration. "Did you see that wind jutsu? I've been practicing it for weeks but could never get it that strong before!"

Despite himself, Sasuke smirked. "Not bad. Almost as impressive as my lightning blade."

"Almost?!" Naruto sputtered indignantly. "I took out two ANBU at once!"

"You knocked them back," Sasuke corrected. "I disabled one permanently."

"Is that something to be proud of?" Naruto's voice sobered suddenly. "They're Leaf ninja. Our people."

Sasuke's expression darkened. "No. Not anymore." He pulled a crumpled sheet from his pocket and thrust it at Naruto. "I took this from the one I wounded."

Naruto smoothed the paper, and his blood ran cold. It was a missing-nin bulletin, featuring both their faces. The descriptions beneath were clinical, detached:

Uzumaki Naruto: Jinchūriki (Nine-Tails), highly dangerous, unstable chakra manifestations. Approach with caution. Capture alive if possible. Class A threat.

Uchiha Sasuke: Last loyal Uchiha, possible mental instability following clan massacre. Sharingan active, fire affinity. Influence by Uzumaki suggests possible Nine-Tails contamination. Capture alive. Class B threat.

Naruto's hands trembled as he read the words. "They think I'm contaminating you? Like I'm some kind of disease?"

"They're afraid," Sasuke said quietly. "Of what we might become together."

The paper crumpled in Naruto's fist. "So that's it? We're officially traitors now?"

"We're officially free," Sasuke countered. "No more playing by their rules."

Naruto stared at the water rushing over smooth stones, its surface catching afternoon sunlight in diamond patterns. "I always wanted to be recognized by the village," he said bitterly. "Guess I got my wish."

Sasuke's hand landed on his shoulder—an awkward gesture coming from the typically touch-averse Uchiha. "The village isn't worth the ground it's built on if this is how they treat their own."

Naruto looked up, surprised by the vehemence in Sasuke's voice.

"We find our own way now," Sasuke continued, an unfamiliar fire burning in his dark eyes. "We get stronger, we find the truth, and we decide for ourselves who deserves our loyalty."

For a moment, Naruto glimpsed something in Sasuke he'd never seen before—not arrogance or cold superiority, but genuine conviction. A leader's quality hidden beneath layers of trauma and practiced indifference.

"Alright," Naruto said, squaring his shoulders. "But if we're doing this, we're partners. Equals. No more of this 'I'm an Uchiha elite' crap."

Sasuke considered him for a long moment, then nodded once. "Partners."

"And we need a better team name than 'Missing-Nin Duo,'" Naruto added, already bouncing back toward his usual energy. "How about 'The Awesome Ninja Alliance'? Or 'Team Badass'?"

"How about 'The Idiots Who Got Caught Because One Wouldn't Shut Up'?" Sasuke suggested dryly, turning to walk across the water's surface.

Naruto scrambled after him, arguing passionately for increasingly ridiculous team names as they made their way upstream, their voices gradually fading into the forest's natural symphony.

---

For three weeks, they moved like ghosts through Fire Country's western regions, avoiding villages and established routes. Each close call with patrols forced them to refine their techniques for evading detection, until they operated with the silent efficiency of veteran rogues rather than freshly minted genin.

They established routines that became almost comforting in their predictability. Dawn brought brief but intense training sessions focusing on chakra control for Naruto and Sharingan expansion for Sasuke. They traveled through morning hours, rested during the hottest part of the day, then traveled again until dusk, where they'd train once more before setting camp.

In a sunlit clearing near the border of River Country, Naruto sat cross-legged, eyes closed in concentration as leaf after leaf stuck to his forehead with chakra, then gently floated to form a perfect circle around him.

"Thirty-seven," Sasuke counted from a nearby tree, where he perched upside-down, Sharingan active as he tracked the movement of birds through distant foliage. "Better than yesterday."

"I'm aiming for fifty," Naruto replied without opening his eyes. Another leaf adhered perfectly to his skin. "How many different movements can you track at once now?"

"Twenty-three distinct patterns," Sasuke said. "Still not enough."

They pushed each other constantly, turning their rivalry into a brutal but effective training regimen. When Naruto mastered a technique, Sasuke wouldn't rest until he'd developed a counter. When Sasuke perfected a jutsu, Naruto would work tirelessly to adapt it for his own chakra nature.

"Your chakra control is improving," Sasuke observed during their evening meal of roasted fish. "Less wastage."

Naruto grinned around a mouthful. "Your fire jutsu's getting more precise too. Pretty soon you'll be able to light campfires without burning down half the forest."

"That was once," Sasuke muttered, but the corner of his mouth ticked upward slightly.

These moments of almost-camaraderie had become more frequent, the walls between them thinning with each shared hardship and small triumph. Not friendship exactly—both were too damaged, too guarded for that—but a partnership built on growing mutual respect.

"We'll reach River Country tomorrow," Sasuke said, studying their worn map by firelight. "We should find a town, gather information, maybe pick up supplies."

"And actual beds?" Naruto asked hopefully. "With real mattresses? And a shower?"

"We'll need disguises," Sasuke continued, ignoring the interruption. "Your blonde hair and those marks on your face are too distinctive."

"What about your duck-butt hair?" Naruto countered. "Pretty sure 'brooding Uchiha' is its own wanted poster category."

Sasuke's hand rose self-consciously to his hair before he caught himself. "We'll use transformation jutsu for initial entry, then find more permanent solutions. Hair dye, different clothes."

"I'm not giving up orange completely," Naruto declared stubbornly.

"You'll give up whatever will get us killed," Sasuke replied flatly. "Including that eyesore jumpsuit."

Naruto grumbled but didn't argue further. He'd learned which battles were worth fighting with his taciturn partner.

As night deepened around their small campsite, Naruto found himself staring into the glowing embers of their fire, thoughts drifting to the village they'd left behind.

"Hey, Sasuke?"

"Hn."

"Do you ever wonder what they're telling everyone back home? About why we left?"

Sasuke was silent for a long moment. "Nothing true," he finally said. "The village runs on secrets and convenient lies."

"Sakura must be worried," Naruto murmured. "And Iruka-sensei"

"You can go back if you're homesick," Sasuke said, voice deliberately neutral.

Naruto's head snapped up. "I'm not going back! Not until I can control this power completely. Not until they acknowledge they were wrong about me." He paused, then added more quietly, "Not without you, anyway."

Sasuke's expression remained unreadable in the firelight, but something in his posture eased slightly. "Get some sleep. I'll take first watch."

As Naruto settled into his bedroll, a strange contentment washed over him despite their circumstances. For the first time in his life, he wasn't alone in his struggles. And strangest of all, it was Sasuke—his rival, his opposite, his most important bond—who walked this path of exile beside him.

---

Miles away, perched on a rocky outcropping overlooking the forest where two young ninja made camp, a broad-shouldered figure with long white hair observed through a specialized telescope. Beside him, a small toad sat attentively, its webbed feet dangling over the cliff edge.

"Interesting development," the man mused, scratching notes in a small journal. "The Nine-Tails jinchūriki and the last Uchiha, working together outside village constraints."

"You gonna bring 'em back to the Leaf?" the toad asked in a gravelly voice.

Jiraiya of the Sannin lowered his telescope, weathered face creased in thought. "Not yet. The Akatsuki are moving, and Orochimaru's been unusually active. Maybe those boys are exactly where they need to be right now—away from the village's politics and restrictions."

"The council won't like that assessment," the toad warned.

A roguish grin split Jiraiya's face. "When have I ever cared what those old fossils like?" His expression sobered as he observed the distant flicker of campfire through the trees. "Besides, they're improving each other. The Uchiha boy tempers Naruto's impulsiveness. Naruto, in turn, is cracking that Uchiha shell of isolation."

"So what's your plan?"

Jiraiya tucked away his notebook and rose to his full, impressive height. "I'll keep watch from a distance. Intervene only if absolutely necessary." He chuckled softly. "And maybe leave the occasional helpful scroll or supply cache where they might 'accidentally' discover it."

The toad croaked skeptically. "Manipulative old bastard."

"Strategic mentor," Jiraiya corrected with a wink. "Sometimes the best teaching happens when students don't realize they're being taught."

With a final glance toward the young ninja's camp, Jiraiya vanished into the gathering darkness, leaving no trace of his presence except faint footprints that seemed to disappear mid-stride—as if their owner had simply stepped out of existence, or perhaps had never truly been there at all.

Naruto's campfire sputtered against the encroaching darkness, casting restless shadows across the small clearing. Two days into exile, the reality of his situation had settled into his bones like a chill he couldn't shake. His hands moved mechanically, turning a skinned rabbit on a makeshift spit while his mind wandered through the ruins of what his life had become.

The snap of a twig in the underbrush jolted him to attention. In a heartbeat, he'd doused the fire with dirt and crouched in shadow, kunai glinting between white-knuckled fingers. He'd been careless—a fire was a beacon to anyone hunting him.

Another sound, closer now. Not the random pattern of wildlife but the deliberate placement of feet trying to move silently. Naruto's heartbeat drummed in his ears as he melted deeper into darkness, cursing his bright orange jacket. Should've ditched it for something less conspicuous. Too late now.

The intruder slipped into the clearing like liquid shadow, movements precise, controlled. Moonlight glinted off raven-black hair.

"I know you're there," a familiar voice cut through the stillness. "Your breathing is too loud. Always has been."

Naruto exploded from the shadows, tackling the figure with enough force to send them both crashing into the remains of the campfire. They rolled across dirt and embers, a tangle of limbs and furious energy until Naruto found himself pinned, a knee pressed into his chest and cool steel against his throat.

"Typical," Sasuke muttered, dark eyes reflecting starlight from above. "Attack first, think never."

"Sasuke?!" Naruto gasped, disbelief warring with sudden, irrational hope. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Sasuke released his hold and stood in a single fluid motion, brushing dirt from his clothes with fastidious disgust. "Looking for you, obviously."

Naruto scrambled to his feet, tension humming through his body. "Did they send you to bring me back? Or just to finish me off?"

The accusation hung in the night air between them. Sasuke's expression hardened.

"If I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Then what?" Naruto demanded, voice cracking with emotions he couldn't contain. "Come to gloat? See the demon fox in exile? Get your laughs and head back to your perfect life in the village?"

"Perfect?" Sasuke's laugh was a brittle, haunted sound. "You don't know anything, do you?"

They stared at each other across the ruined campsite, two boys barely into their teens, both carrying burdens heavier than any child should bear. The silence stretched taut between them.

"They threw you away," Sasuke finally said, each word precise as a thrown senbon. "Just like they discarded my clan after the Nine-Tails attack. Used us, feared us, then cast us aside when we became inconvenient."

Naruto's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about patterns," Sasuke said, pacing now, energy radiating from him in almost visible waves. "The Uchiha were isolated after the Nine-Tails attack—blamed without evidence, restricted, monitored. And now you, the Nine-Tails jinchūriki, suddenly exiled when Konoha faces growing threats?"

"So what? You came to, what—study me? Like I'm one of your clan scrolls?"

"I came," Sasuke said, halting his pacing to lock eyes with Naruto, "because I left the village too."

The words hit Naruto like a physical blow. "You WHAT?"

"I left," Sasuke repeated, something like grim satisfaction flickering across his features. "What's the point of staying in a village built on lies? A place that would exile my—" He broke off abruptly, jaw tightening.

"Your what?" Naruto pressed, taking a step closer.

"Teammate," Sasuke finished, but the slight hesitation betrayed him.

Naruto's eyes narrowed. "Bullshit. Since when do you care about teammates? You've spent every day since we formed Team Seven acting like we're beneath you."

"And you've spent every day being an idiot!" Sasuke snapped, temper fraying. "But when that chakra came out, when you lost control—you saved my life. The Sasuke Uchiha you think you know would never admit that, would he?"

The direct acknowledgment stunned Naruto into momentary silence. He searched Sasuke's face for signs of mockery or deception but found only raw, uncomfortable honesty.

"You really left?" Naruto finally asked, voice smaller than he intended.

"I really left," Sasuke confirmed. "Walked out the same gates you did."

"Why?" The question was barely above a whisper.

Sasuke's hand drifted to his pocket, where the scroll from the mysterious ANBU lay hidden. "Because there are truths I need to find. Answers about my brother, about what really happened to my clan. And" He seemed to wrestle with himself before continuing. "And I think those answers are somehow connected to you and the Nine-Tails."

Naruto's hand unconsciously drifted to his stomach, where the seal lay hidden beneath his tattered jacket. "So we're what—exile buddies now?" He couldn't keep the skepticism from his voice.

"We're two shinobi with compatible goals and complementary skills," Sasuke replied pragmatically. "Alone, we're vulnerable. Together, we have a better chance of survival and finding answers."

Naruto barked a laugh. "Wow, you really know how to make a guy feel wanted."

The ghost of a smirk flitted across Sasuke's face. "Need me to write you a love letter, loser?"

Just like that, something shifted between them—a tension breaking, falling away. Not friendship, exactly. Not yet. But possibility.

Naruto snorted, then gestured to the ruined campsite. "Well, since you scared away my dinner, you can help me set up camp again."

---

Dawn painted the forest in watercolor washes of pink and gold as Naruto and Sasuke faced each other across a small stream. Their meager possessions lay organized with military precision on a spread tarp—the results of Sasuke's insistence on cataloguing their resources.

"This is it?" Sasuke scowled at the collection. "Instant ramen and explosive tags? That's your survival kit?"

"Hey, those are quality explosive tags!" Naruto protested, pointing accusingly. "And the ramen has all four food groups!"

"The four food groups of what—salt, more salt, MSG, and desperation?"

"Better than your fancy-pants ration bars. They taste like cardboard dipped in sadness."

"They're nutritionally complete and don't require cooking," Sasuke countered, arranging his own supplies with methodical care. "Fire attracts attention."

Naruto sighed dramatically. "Fine, Mr. Survival Expert. What's the plan then?"

Sasuke unfolded a worn map, weighing its corners with small stones. "First, we need to leave Fire Country entirely. Hunter-nin will be searching border regions, but they'll assume we'd head for allies or familiar territory."

"So we go somewhere totally random?"

"We go somewhere unexpected," Sasuke corrected. "Minor villages with no strong ties to Konoha. Places where foreigners aren't unusual."

Naruto peered at the map, finger tracing potential routes. "What about Wave Country? We've been there before, and Inari's family might help us."

"Too obvious," Sasuke dismissed. "That's the first place they'd check, given our history there."

"Okay, then where?" Frustration edged Naruto's voice.

Sasuke's finger tapped a small region to the far northwest. "The Land of Rivers. Small enough to avoid major political entanglements, numerous enough waterways to cover our tracks, and it borders three other nations for quick escape if needed."

Naruto studied the map with surprising intensity. "That's at least a week's travel."

"More like two, since we need to avoid main roads and established routes."

"Two weeks?!" Naruto flopped back on the grass with a groan. "We'll starve by then."

"Not if we're smart," Sasuke said, already moving to divide their supplies into two equal packs. "We hunt, forage, and ration. And we train constantly while traveling."

Naruto sat up, interest piqued. "Train?"

"You think I left the village just to become a wandering nobody?" Sasuke's eyes gleamed with purpose. "I'm going to keep getting stronger. Strong enough to face Itachi when the time comes."

"And I need to control this," Naruto said quietly, palm resting over his seal. "Prove the village wrong about me being dangerous."

Sasuke studied him for a moment. "Then we have our objectives. Travel northwest, avoid detection, train daily, and survive long enough to find the answers we need."

"Sounds simple when you put it like that," Naruto said with a wry smile.

"Nothing about this will be simple," Sasuke replied, but there was no bite to his words. Just pragmatic acceptance.

They finished packing in companionable silence, each lost in private thoughts. When they shouldered their packs and took to the trees, moving in the easy rhythm of trained shinobi, it felt almost natural—as if they'd been partners for years rather than reluctant teammates forced together by circumstance.

---

They'd been traveling for three days, keeping to dense forest and moving only at dawn and dusk when the shadows were longest. Sasuke insisted on changing direction frequently, doubling back and using streams to mask their scent trail. Naruto had initially chafed at what seemed like paranoia, but on the third day, he understood.

"Down!" Sasuke hissed, dropping flat against a massive tree branch.

Naruto followed instantly, breath caught in his throat as a patrol of four masked figures flashed through the canopy a hundred yards to their left. Even at that distance, the porcelain masks and distinctive armor were unmistakable.

"ANBU," he whispered once they'd passed out of earshot.

"Hunter-nin," Sasuke corrected grimly. "Standard tracking formation. They're looking for us."

"How do you know?"

"My brother was ANBU," Sasuke said tightly. "I used to watch their training formations when I was young."

They remained motionless for ten agonizing minutes, until Sasuke finally signaled the all-clear. As they resumed their cautious progress, Naruto couldn't shake the chill that had settled between his shoulder blades.

"They won't give up, will they?" he asked quietly.

"A jinchūriki and the last loyal Uchiha?" Sasuke shook his head. "We're too valuable to lose track of."

The reality of their situation hung heavily between them as darkness fell. They made camp in the hollow trunk of a fallen giant, a space barely large enough for two but perfectly concealed from passing eyes. No fire tonight—the risk was too great.

Sasuke produced a tightly rolled scroll from his pack, spreading it on the ground between them. "We need a plan for when they catch up to us."

"You mean if," Naruto corrected stubbornly.

"When," Sasuke insisted. "They have tracking specialists, sensory types, and resources we don't. It's just a matter of time."

"So what, we just give up? Let them drag us back?"

"No." Sasuke's voice hardened. "We prepare to fight. And to win."

He unrolled the scroll further, revealing diagrams of combat formations and jutsu specifications. To Naruto's surprise, many featured combinations of his own techniques with Sasuke's.

"You made this?" Naruto asked, genuinely impressed.

"Last night while you were snoring," Sasuke confirmed. "We need to leverage our strengths. Your massive chakra reserves and shadow clones paired with my Sharingan and fire techniques."

Naruto studied the diagrams intently. "This could work. But some of these combinations will need practice."

"That's why we'll drill them every morning and evening," Sasuke said. "Starting now."

"Now? It's practically midnight!"

"An enemy won't wait for convenient hours to attack," Sasuke replied, already moving toward the edge of their shelter. "Coming or not?"

With a groan that concealed his grudging admiration, Naruto followed.

---

The hunter-nin attacked two days later.

They came at mid-morning, when the sun glinted blindingly through the forest canopy. No warnings, no demands for surrender—just the whispered death of kunai slicing through air and the sharp tang of chakra flaring to life.

Sasuke sensed them first, Sharingan blazing to life as he shoved Naruto aside. A heartbeat later, explosive tags detonated where they'd been standing, showering the forest floor with splintered wood and scorched earth.

"Four of them," Sasuke called, back-to-back with Naruto now in the small clearing created by the explosion. "Two o'clock and ten o'clock, high. Six o'clock and three, ground level."

Naruto's hands flew through familiar seals. "Shadow Clone Jutsu!"

A dozen perfect copies burst into existence, creating instant chaos in the clearing as they charged in different directions. The real Naruto remained centered, chakra already gathering in his palm. "Buy me thirty seconds!"

Understanding flashed across Sasuke's face—Formation Three from their practice sessions. He nodded once, then blurred into motion.

The first hunter-nin dropped from the canopy like a striking hawk, tanto blade glinting with chakra enhancement. Sasuke met the attack head-on, Sharingan tracking each microscopic movement, body responding with fluid precision. Steel rang against steel, a percussive soundtrack to the deadly dance.

"Leaf shinobi," the hunter-nin hissed through his mask. "Stand down. This doesn't need to end in your deaths."

"Funny," Sasuke replied coldly. "I was about to say the same to you."

A second ninja appeared at his flank, but three of Naruto's clones intercepted, buying precious seconds as Sasuke disengaged with a backward flip, hands already forming signs.

"Fire Style: Phoenix Flower Jutsu!"

Dozens of small fireballs erupted from his lips, scattering in seemingly random patterns that forced the hunter-nin to dodge in predetermined directions—exactly as planned.

Behind him, Naruto's chakra swirled visible in the air, a miniature maelstrom condensing into his outstretched palm. "Ready!"

"Now!" Sasuke called, completing another set of seals. "Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!"

A massive sphere of roaring flame engulfed the clearing's center, forcing the hunter-nin back toward the periphery—directly into the path of Naruto's charging clones, each wielding a crackling, spiraling orb of pure chakra.

"RASENGAN!"

The synchronized attack caught two of the hunter-nin simultaneously, the devastating spirals of chakra slamming into their torsos and launching them through the forest like rag dolls. Trees shattered in their wake as they disappeared from view.

"Two down!" Naruto called triumphantly.

"Focus!" Sasuke snapped, narrowly avoiding a water jutsu that sliced through the air where his head had been moments before. "Formation Seven!"

They moved in perfect synchronicity now, Naruto creating a circular perimeter of clones while Sasuke charged his blade with lightning chakra. The remaining hunter-nin circled warily, recognizing the unexpected level of coordination between their targets.

"Surrender now," the lead hunter-nin called, voice muffled behind his mask. "By order of the Hokage, you are to return to Konoha immediately."

"Funny how the old man wants me back after throwing me away," Naruto shouted, genuine anger crackling through his voice. "Tell him I'm not his weapon anymore!"

The hunter-nin's head tilted slightly. "The Uchiha heir was not exiled. His return will be met with leniency if he complies now."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I go where he goes."

A moment of tension stretched between them, four shinobi balanced on the knife-edge of violence. Then the hunter-nin's hands blurred into motion.

"Water Style: Water Dragon Bullet!"

A massive serpentine form materialized from a nearby stream, lunging toward the boys with crushing force. At the same moment, the second ninja appeared behind them, chakra-enhanced wire glinting as it whipped through the air to entangle them.

"Now, Naruto!" Sasuke called, Sharingan spinning wildly.

Naruto's chakra exploded outward—not the Nine-Tails' red energy but his own massive reserves, channeled through a dozen clones simultaneously. They formed a barrier of spinning chakra that shredded the water dragon on contact, sending spray in all directions.

In the momentary blindness caused by the water, Sasuke struck. Lightning coursed along his blade as he severed the chakra wire and lunged toward the wire-wielder. The hunter-nin barely managed to avoid a killing blow, but Sasuke's blade sliced deep across his shoulder, electricity paralyzing the arm beneath.

"We need to run," Sasuke called, already calculating their escape. "Northwest, fast as you can!"

"But we're winning!" Naruto protested, his clones harrying the remaining hunter-nin effectively.

"More will come," Sasuke insisted. "This was just the first wave!"

Naruto hesitated, then nodded. "Cover me for ten seconds."

Sasuke didn't question, immediately engaging both hunter-nin to create the space Naruto needed. The blonde's hands moved through unfamiliar seals, chakra gathering in patterns Sasuke had never seen before.

"Wind Style: Great Breakthrough!"

The gale that erupted from Naruto's outstretched palms was powerful enough to flatten trees in a sixty-degree arc, catching both hunter-nin and hurling them backward through the forest like autumn leaves. The roar of splintering wood and howling wind would be audible for miles.

"That's our window!" Naruto shouted over the diminishing gale. "Let's go!"

They bolted northwest, pushing chakra into their legs for speed that blurred the forest around them. For nearly an hour they maintained the punishing pace, until Sasuke finally signaled a halt at a small, rocky stream.

"We need to mask our trail," he gasped, sweat pouring down his face. "Water walking. Three miles upstream, then switch banks."

Naruto nodded, equally exhausted but eyes bright with exhilaration. "Did you see that wind jutsu? I've been practicing it for weeks but could never get it that strong before!"

Despite himself, Sasuke smirked. "Not bad. Almost as impressive as my lightning blade."

"Almost?!" Naruto sputtered indignantly. "I took out two ANBU at once!"

"You knocked them back," Sasuke corrected. "I disabled one permanently."

"Is that something to be proud of?" Naruto's voice sobered suddenly. "They're Leaf ninja. Our people."

Sasuke's expression darkened. "No. Not anymore." He pulled a crumpled sheet from his pocket and thrust it at Naruto. "I took this from the one I wounded."

Naruto smoothed the paper, and his blood ran cold. It was a missing-nin bulletin, featuring both their faces. The descriptions beneath were clinical, detached:

Uzumaki Naruto: Jinchūriki (Nine-Tails), highly dangerous, unstable chakra manifestations. Approach with caution. Capture alive if possible. Class A threat.

Uchiha Sasuke: Last loyal Uchiha, possible mental instability following clan massacre. Sharingan active, fire affinity. Influence by Uzumaki suggests possible Nine-Tails contamination. Capture alive. Class B threat.

Naruto's hands trembled as he read the words. "They think I'm contaminating you? Like I'm some kind of disease?"

"They're afraid," Sasuke said quietly. "Of what we might become together."

The paper crumpled in Naruto's fist. "So that's it? We're officially traitors now?"

"We're officially free," Sasuke countered. "No more playing by their rules."

Naruto stared at the water rushing over smooth stones, its surface catching afternoon sunlight in diamond patterns. "I always wanted to be recognized by the village," he said bitterly. "Guess I got my wish."

Sasuke's hand landed on his shoulder—an awkward gesture coming from the typically touch-averse Uchiha. "The village isn't worth the ground it's built on if this is how they treat their own."

Naruto looked up, surprised by the vehemence in Sasuke's voice.

"We find our own way now," Sasuke continued, an unfamiliar fire burning in his dark eyes. "We get stronger, we find the truth, and we decide for ourselves who deserves our loyalty."

For a moment, Naruto glimpsed something in Sasuke he'd never seen before—not arrogance or cold superiority, but genuine conviction. A leader's quality hidden beneath layers of trauma and practiced indifference.

"Alright," Naruto said, squaring his shoulders. "But if we're doing this, we're partners. Equals. No more of this 'I'm an Uchiha elite' crap."

Sasuke considered him for a long moment, then nodded once. "Partners."

"And we need a better team name than 'Missing-Nin Duo,'" Naruto added, already bouncing back toward his usual energy. "How about 'The Awesome Ninja Alliance'? Or 'Team Badass'?"

"How about 'The Idiots Who Got Caught Because One Wouldn't Shut Up'?" Sasuke suggested dryly, turning to walk across the water's surface.

Naruto scrambled after him, arguing passionately for increasingly ridiculous team names as they made their way upstream, their voices gradually fading into the forest's natural symphony.

---

For three weeks, they moved like ghosts through Fire Country's western regions, avoiding villages and established routes. Each close call with patrols forced them to refine their techniques for evading detection, until they operated with the silent efficiency of veteran rogues rather than freshly minted genin.

They established routines that became almost comforting in their predictability. Dawn brought brief but intense training sessions focusing on chakra control for Naruto and Sharingan expansion for Sasuke. They traveled through morning hours, rested during the hottest part of the day, then traveled again until dusk, where they'd train once more before setting camp.

In a sunlit clearing near the border of River Country, Naruto sat cross-legged, eyes closed in concentration as leaf after leaf stuck to his forehead with chakra, then gently floated to form a perfect circle around him.

"Thirty-seven," Sasuke counted from a nearby tree, where he perched upside-down, Sharingan active as he tracked the movement of birds through distant foliage. "Better than yesterday."

"I'm aiming for fifty," Naruto replied without opening his eyes. Another leaf adhered perfectly to his skin. "How many different movements can you track at once now?"

"Twenty-three distinct patterns," Sasuke said. "Still not enough."

They pushed each other constantly, turning their rivalry into a brutal but effective training regimen. When Naruto mastered a technique, Sasuke wouldn't rest until he'd developed a counter. When Sasuke perfected a jutsu, Naruto would work tirelessly to adapt it for his own chakra nature.

"Your chakra control is improving," Sasuke observed during their evening meal of roasted fish. "Less wastage."

Naruto grinned around a mouthful. "Your fire jutsu's getting more precise too. Pretty soon you'll be able to light campfires without burning down half the forest."

"That was once," Sasuke muttered, but the corner of his mouth ticked upward slightly.

These moments of almost-camaraderie had become more frequent, the walls between them thinning with each shared hardship and small triumph. Not friendship exactly—both were too damaged, too guarded for that—but a partnership built on growing mutual respect.

"We'll reach River Country tomorrow," Sasuke said, studying their worn map by firelight. "We should find a town, gather information, maybe pick up supplies."

"And actual beds?" Naruto asked hopefully. "With real mattresses? And a shower?"

"We'll need disguises," Sasuke continued, ignoring the interruption. "Your blonde hair and those marks on your face are too distinctive."

"What about your duck-butt hair?" Naruto countered. "Pretty sure 'brooding Uchiha' is its own wanted poster category."

Sasuke's hand rose self-consciously to his hair before he caught himself. "We'll use transformation jutsu for initial entry, then find more permanent solutions. Hair dye, different clothes."

"I'm not giving up orange completely," Naruto declared stubbornly.

"You'll give up whatever will get us killed," Sasuke replied flatly. "Including that eyesore jumpsuit."

Naruto grumbled but didn't argue further. He'd learned which battles were worth fighting with his taciturn partner.

As night deepened around their small campsite, Naruto found himself staring into the glowing embers of their fire, thoughts drifting to the village they'd left behind.

"Hey, Sasuke?"

"Hn."

"Do you ever wonder what they're telling everyone back home? About why we left?"

Sasuke was silent for a long moment. "Nothing true," he finally said. "The village runs on secrets and convenient lies."

"Sakura must be worried," Naruto murmured. "And Iruka-sensei"

"You can go back if you're homesick," Sasuke said, voice deliberately neutral.

Naruto's head snapped up. "I'm not going back! Not until I can control this power completely. Not until they acknowledge they were wrong about me." He paused, then added more quietly, "Not without you, anyway."

Sasuke's expression remained unreadable in the firelight, but something in his posture eased slightly. "Get some sleep. I'll take first watch."

As Naruto settled into his bedroll, a strange contentment washed over him despite their circumstances. For the first time in his life, he wasn't alone in his struggles. And strangest of all, it was Sasuke—his rival, his opposite, his most important bond—who walked this path of exile beside him.

---

Miles away, perched on a rocky outcropping overlooking the forest where two young ninja made camp, a broad-shouldered figure with long white hair observed through a specialized telescope. Beside him, a small toad sat attentively, its webbed feet dangling over the cliff edge.

"Interesting development," the man mused, scratching notes in a small journal. "The Nine-Tails jinchūriki and the last Uchiha, working together outside village constraints."

"You gonna bring 'em back to the Leaf?" the toad asked in a gravelly voice.

Jiraiya of the Sannin lowered his telescope, weathered face creased in thought. "Not yet. The Akatsuki are moving, and Orochimaru's been unusually active. Maybe those boys are exactly where they need to be right now—away from the village's politics and restrictions."

"The council won't like that assessment," the toad warned.

A roguish grin split Jiraiya's face. "When have I ever cared what those old fossils like?" His expression sobered as he observed the distant flicker of campfire through the trees. "Besides, they're improving each other. The Uchiha boy tempers Naruto's impulsiveness. Naruto, in turn, is cracking that Uchiha shell of isolation."

"So what's your plan?"

Jiraiya tucked away his notebook and rose to his full, impressive height. "I'll keep watch from a distance. Intervene only if absolutely necessary." He chuckled softly. "And maybe leave the occasional helpful scroll or supply cache where they might 'accidentally' discover it."

The toad croaked skeptically. "Manipulative old bastard."

"Strategic mentor," Jiraiya corrected with a wink. "Sometimes the best teaching happens when students don't realize they're being taught."

With a final glance toward the young ninja's camp, Jiraiya vanished into the gathering darkness, leaving no trace of his presence except faint footprints that seemed to disappear mid-stride—as if their owner had simply stepped out of existence, or perhaps had never truly been there at all.

The village appeared through a curtain of morning mist like a mirage shimmering into existence. Weathered wooden buildings crowded against each other along narrow, winding streets, their sloped roofs glinting with dew as dawn broke over the eastern mountains. A simple place, unremarkable in every way that would matter to most travelers.

Sasuke crouched on a cedar branch overlooking the settlement, his Sharingan activated as he methodically scanned for threats. "Small. Maybe forty buildings, two hundred residents at most."

Naruto squatted beside him, the gentle sway of the branch barely registering in his improved balance. His once-bright hair was now dyed a nondescript brown, his whisker marks concealed under a layer of specialized makeup that Sasuke had somehow procured. The transformation still disoriented him when he caught his reflection in streams and puddles.

"Looks peaceful enough," Naruto whispered, inhaling deeply. "And I can smell fresh bread. Real, actual bread, Sasuke."

"Focus," Sasuke muttered, though his own stomach betrayed him with a soft growl. Three weeks of forest rations and campfire-charred game had taken their toll on both boys. "Something's wrong."

Naruto stilled, abandoning thoughts of warm food as he studied the village with new attention. Now he noticed what Sasuke had already seen—the peculiar emptiness of the streets, the hastily repaired damage to several buildings, and most tellingly, the absence of children playing in what should have been the morning bustle of a rural community.

"You're right," he agreed, voice dropping lower. "It feels scared."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed as they tracked the furtive movements of villagers hurrying between buildings like mice avoiding a hawk's shadow. "We should avoid it. Frightened people ask too many questions of strangers."

A sharp crack echoed from the village's northern edge, followed by a woman's scream that sliced through the morning stillness. Both boys tensed, exchanging quick glances.

"Or," Naruto said with a grim smile, "frightened people might be too busy to notice a couple of extra strangers."

Without waiting for agreement, he slipped from the branch and dropped silently to the forest floor, keeping to the treeline as he edged closer to the disturbance. Sasuke swore under his breath, then followed with the fluid grace that seemed as natural to him as breathing.

They circled to the northern edge of the village, where a cluster of buildings sat slightly apart from the main settlement. The source of the commotion became immediately apparent. Five men in mismatched armor surrounded an older woman who knelt in the dirt before them, her salt-and-pepper hair falling loose from its customary tie, her weathered hands clutching a broken clay pot to her chest.

"Tax day comes whether you've got the money or not, old woman," the largest of the men was saying, his voice carrying clearly to the hidden shinobi. A jagged scar bisected his face from hairline to jaw, pulling his mouth into a permanent sneer. "The boss doesn't accept excuses."

"Please," the woman begged, her dignity crumbling under naked fear. "We've barely recovered from last month's collection. The floods took half our rice crop—"

The scarred man backhanded her with a casual brutality that sent her sprawling. "Maybe we should take something else instead." He nodded toward a small storage shed. "Burn it down, boys. Let's see how quick her neighbors cough up what they owe when they smell smoke."

One of his companions laughed, already forming hand signs. "Fire Style or Lightning? I never can decide which makes a prettier blaze."

Sasuke's hand closed around Naruto's forearm in silent warning, but it came too late. The blonde's muscles had already tensed beneath his fingers, chakra surging with the familiar prickling heat that preceded action.

"We can't get involved," Sasuke hissed, fingers digging into Naruto's arm. "It's not our fight."

Naruto twisted free of his grip, eyes blazing with that stubborn defiance that made Sasuke want to simultaneously punch him and shield him from the world's cruelty.

"Everything wrong with the ninja world is wrapped up in those five jerks," Naruto whispered fiercely. "They're using power to terrorize people who can't fight back."

"It happens in every country, in every village," Sasuke countered. "We can't save everyone."

"We can save her." Naruto's gaze hardened with resolve that brooked no argument. "We can save them."

Before Sasuke could protest further, Naruto vanished in a burst of speed that rustled the undergrowth. The Uchiha muttered a colorful string of curses that would have shocked anyone who knew him only as the stoic prodigy of Konoha.

"Every. Single. Time." He sighed, fingers already forming the seals for a fire jutsu. Whatever Naruto was planning, it would inevitably require backup.

The first mercenary never saw what hit him. One moment he was advancing on the storage shed with flames dancing along his fingertips; the next, he was sprawled face-down in the dirt, a brown-haired youth standing over him with a satisfied grin.

"You know," Naruto called cheerfully to the remaining thugs, "where I come from, tax collectors at least pretend to be legitimate."

The scarred leader recovered quickly from his surprise, assessing the newcomer with the calculating gaze of a professional fighter. "This doesn't concern you, boy. Walk away now, and we'll forget your enthusiasm."

"Funny thing about that," Naruto replied, casually twirling a kunai around one finger. "I've got a terrible memory. Especially when it comes to backing down from bullies."

The leader's face darkened. "Kill him."

The three remaining mercenaries moved with the coordinated precision of men who had fought together for years. One hung back, hands already forming a sequence of seals, while the other two circled to flank Naruto from opposite sides.

"Earth Style: Stone Prison Jutsu!" the jutsu-caster called, slamming his palms to the ground.

The dirt beneath Naruto's feet liquefied, then surged upward to encase his legs in rapidly hardening earth. Simultaneously, the other two attackers launched a pincer attack with drawn blades.

Naruto's face registered momentary surprise before splitting into a wide, foxy grin. "Wow, actual jutsu! I thought you guys just specialized in pushing around old ladies."

A blur of motion, a puff of smoke, and suddenly the mercenaries' blades met empty air where the trapped boy had stood. The real Naruto appeared behind the jutsu-caster, delivering a roundhouse kick that sent the man tumbling across the dirt.

"Shadow clones," the leader growled in recognition. "This isn't some untrained farmboy."

"Very observant!" Naruto called, multiplying into a dozen identical copies that surrounded the remaining fighters. "What else can you figure out?"

The leader's eyes narrowed to calculating slits. "Missing-nin. Probably genin-level from one of the minor villages. Got delusions of being a hero." He spat on the ground. "Boys, let's show this kid what happens to heroes in the real world."

His remaining men grinned wickedly, the air around them crackling with chakra as they prepared more advanced jutsu. Before they could complete their techniques, a cold voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"Fire Style: Dragon Flame Jutsu."

A roaring column of flame erupted from the treeline, splitting into serpentine tendrils that encircled the mercenaries, cutting off their escape routes. The inferno's architect stepped from the shadows, dark hair framing a face set in lines of aristocratic disdain.

"You're late," Naruto called, not bothering to hide his relief.

"You're reckless," Sasuke countered, Sharingan glowing crimson in the reflected firelight. "As usual."

The scarred leader reassessed the situation with the rapid calculus of a survivor. "Two of them. Both trained. Uchiha eyes." His posture shifted subtly, weapon lowering as he adopted a more conciliatory tone. "Look, we've got no quarrel with Konoha ninjas. We're just doing a job."

"We're not from Konoha," Sasuke replied coldly, the flames around them intensifying with his words. "And your job just ended."

What followed was less a battle than a demonstration. Naruto's shadow clones swarmed the disoriented mercenaries while Sasuke's precise fire techniques herded them into increasingly disadvantageous positions. The thugs fought with the desperate ferocity of men who sensed their own mortality closing in, but against the synchronized attacks of two prodigies who had spent weeks honing their teamwork, they stood no chance.

Minutes later, four unconscious bodies lay scattered across the dirt. Only the leader remained standing, blood streaming from a cut above his eye, his breathing labored as he faced the two boys.

"You've made a mistake," he growled, desperation giving his voice a ragged edge. "We work for Lord Kenta. He controls everything between here and the western border. When he hears about this—"

"Oh, I'm counting on it," Naruto interrupted cheerfully. "Make sure you tell him exactly what happened. Two kids took down his entire tax collection squad without breaking a sweat." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that carried echoes of the Nine-Tails' growl. "And if he sends more, we'll be waiting."

The mercenary leader backed away, his earlier bravado evaporating under the weight of genuinely lethal intent. He slung one of his unconscious comrades over his shoulder, then gestured for the others who had regained consciousness to grab the remaining casualties.

"This isn't over," he promised, retreating down the road with as much dignity as his injuries allowed.

"Never is," Naruto called after him with infuriating cheerfulness. "Tell your boss to try harder next time!"

As the mercenaries disappeared around a bend in the road, Sasuke turned to Naruto with an expression that wavered between exasperation and reluctant approval. "Now we've got a warlord's attention. Exactly what we were trying to avoid."

"Details, details," Naruto waved dismissively. "Did you see his face when you did that dragon flame thing? Priceless!"

"Idiot." But there was no heat behind the insult. If Sasuke were being honest—which he rarely was, even with himself—part of him had enjoyed the fight. The clean simplicity of confronting obvious villains, the satisfaction of protecting the innocent—it felt like how being a ninja should be, rather than the web of politics and secrets that had defined their lives in Konoha.

The elderly woman they had rescued approached cautiously, bowing deeply before them. "Thank you, young masters. We've suffered under Kenta's men for months with no one to help us."

Villagers began emerging from their homes, drawn by the commotion and the unprecedented sight of Kenta's men in retreat. Their faces showed equal measures of gratitude and fear—the latter directed not at the departing thugs, but at the two powerful strangers who had so easily dispatched them.

"It was nothing, really," Naruto said, scratching the back of his head with characteristic modesty that never failed to baffle Sasuke. How could someone so powerful remain so unassuming?

"You risked your lives for strangers," the woman countered. "That is never nothing." She studied them with eyes that missed little despite her age. "You boys look half-starved and road-weary. My home is humble, but my cooking is still the best in the village. Will you honor me by accepting a meal?"

Naruto's stomach growled audibly at the mention of home-cooked food. He glanced at Sasuke, naked hope written across his features.

Sasuke sighed, already knowing they'd lost whatever element of surprise or anonymity they might have maintained. "We accept your hospitality, but we can't stay long."

"Of course, of course," the woman agreed, leading them toward a modest house on the village's eastern edge. "My name is Hana. My husband has passed, but my grandson lives with me. He should be returning from the forest soon—he gathers medicinal herbs for our village."

The interior of Hana's home was modest but immaculate, fragrant with herbs hanging from ceiling beams and the promising aroma of soup simmering over a fire pit. She gestured for the boys to seat themselves at a low table while she bustled about, ladling steaming broth into earthenware bowls.

"You're not from around here," she observed, setting the food before them. It wasn't a question.

"We're travelers," Sasuke answered noncommittally.

"Very skilled travelers," Hana noted shrewdly. "With techniques I've only seen from hidden village shinobi."

Before Sasuke could formulate a suitably vague response, the door slid open to admit a slender figure carrying a basket overflowing with fresh-cut herbs and roots. The newcomer paused on the threshold, taking in the unexpected guests with alert green eyes that belied their owner's delicate appearance.

"Grandmother?" The voice was soft but distinctly masculine, belonging to a young man perhaps a few years older than Naruto and Sasuke. His hair fell in a copper-colored curtain to his shoulders, partially secured in a practical topknot that kept it from his face.

"Mizuki, perfect timing," Hana exclaimed. "These brave young men drove off Kenta's tax collectors. They saved my life—and possibly the entire eastern quarter from being burned."

Mizuki set down his basket and approached the table, studying the visitors with open curiosity rather than the guarded suspicion Sasuke had expected. "Then we owe them a great debt." He bowed formally. "I am Mizuki, apprentice healer of Riverbank Village."

"I'm Naruto, and this is Sasuke," Naruto replied around a mouthful of soup, earning a sharp glare from his companion for the casual disclosure of their real names. "Your grandmother's soup is amazing!"

"Everything Grandmother makes is amazing," Mizuki agreed with easy affection, settling beside them at the table. "But I'm more interested in how two young shinobi happened to be passing through our remote village precisely when we needed them."

There was something in his direct gaze that made evasion seem futile. Sasuke tensed, calculating exit routes and potential threats, but Naruto simply shrugged.

"We were hungry, your village was here, and those jerks picked the wrong day to be jerks," he said, as if that explained everything.

Remarkably, Mizuki laughed—a genuine sound of delight that transformed his serious features. "Fair enough! The simplest explanations are often the truest." He turned to help his grandmother serve more soup, but not before Sasuke caught the assessing glance Mizuki cast at Naruto's midsection—precisely where the Nine-Tails seal was hidden beneath layers of clothing.

That single look confirmed Sasuke's suspicions. This "apprentice healer" was more than he appeared.

---

Night fell across the village in a cascade of indigo and silver, stars pricking the darkening sky like scattered diamonds. The boys had accepted Hana's insistence that they stay the night, though Sasuke remained vigilant, sleeping in shifts with Naruto to guard against both the return of the mercenaries and any potential treachery from their hosts.

It was during Sasuke's watch, in the stillest hour before dawn, that Mizuki joined him on the porch. The healer moved with the silent grace of someone trained in more than just gathering herbs.

"You don't trust easily," Mizuki observed, settling cross-legged beside Sasuke. He carried a ceramic pot that released tendrils of fragrant steam into the cool night air. "Tea?"

Sasuke accepted the offered cup with cautious courtesy. "Trust is earned."

"Indeed it is." Mizuki sipped his own tea, seemingly content with silence.

After several minutes, Sasuke's patience wore thin. "What do you want?"

Mizuki smiled faintly. "Direct. I appreciate that." He set down his cup with deliberate care. "I want to help your friend."

"With what?"

"With the Nine-Tails chakra that nearly leaked through his seal during your fight today."

Sasuke's hand instinctively moved to the kunai hidden in his sleeve, but Mizuki made no threatening movements, merely continuing to sip his tea as if discussing the weather rather than their most dangerous secret.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sasuke replied coldly.

"You're protective. That's good. He needs that." Mizuki nodded toward the house where Naruto slept. "But denial won't help him control what's inside. I saw the red chakra flickering around him when that mercenary threatened to burn the storage shed. Just for an instant—but it was there."

"And how would you recognize Nine-Tails chakra?" Sasuke demanded, dropping the pretense of ignorance.

Mizuki pushed back his sleeve to reveal an intricate seal tattooed along his forearm—a complex spiral of symbols that bore a striking resemblance to the patterns on Naruto's stomach.

"Because sealing techniques are my specialty," he explained quietly. "And because the Uzumaki clan wasn't entirely wiped out, despite what the great villages would have everyone believe."

Sasuke's eyes widened fractionally—the only outward sign of his shock. "You're claiming Uzumaki heritage?"

"On my mother's side, yes. Our family line is diluted, and I lack the massive chakra reserves that were the clan's hallmark. But the knowledge" Mizuki tapped his temple. "That, I inherited."

"Prove it."

"Fair request." Mizuki set down his cup and formed a series of hand signs that Sasuke had never seen before. Chakra gathered at his fingertips, glowing a soft blue. "This is a diagnostic technique unique to Uzumaki seal masters. It lets me see chakra pathways and identify imbalances."

With Sasuke's wary permission, he pressed his glowing fingertips to the back of the Uchiha's hand. Instantly, a translucent blue projection appeared above their joined hands—a miniature map of Sasuke's chakra network, pulsing with energy.

"Interesting," Mizuki murmured, studying the projection. "Your chakra has unusual density around your eyes—typical of doujutsu users—but there's also a peculiar pattern here." He pointed to a knot of energy near Sasuke's neck. "A seal of some kind, waiting to be activated. Someone has marked you."

Sasuke jerked his hand away, the projection dissipating like mist. His mind raced with implications. Orochimaru had shown interest in him during their brief academy interactions, before the Sannin had left the village under suspicion. Could this be related?

"I've surprised you," Mizuki noted. "I apologize. But perhaps now you understand why I might be valuable to both of you."

The door slid open behind them, revealing a tousled Naruto rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What'd I miss?"

"Our host has an interesting lineage," Sasuke replied, making the decision to trust—at least provisionally. "He claims Uzumaki blood and knowledge of sealing techniques."

Naruto's sleepiness vanished instantly. "Uzumaki? Like me?" The naked hope in his voice made something twist painfully in Sasuke's chest.

"A distant cousin at best," Mizuki clarified gently. "But yes, we share some ancestry. More importantly, I might be able to help you with your seal."

Naruto glanced around nervously. "I don't know what you're—"

"He knows about the Nine-Tails," Sasuke interrupted. "And he's seen signs of its chakra leaking during the fight."

"Oh." Naruto's hand drifted unconsciously to his stomach. "Is it really obvious?"

"Not to most," Mizuki assured him. "But I've studied the signs. The whisker marks you try to hide with makeup. The massive chakra reserves that let you create solid shadow clones as if they were academy-level techniques. The occasional red flicker when your emotions run high."

Naruto dropped onto the porch beside them, all pretense abandoned. "Can you really help? The seal's been weakening ever since I left the village. That's why they exiled me in the first place—I couldn't control it during a mission."

"I'm not a seal master like your father was," Mizuki said carefully, "but I know enough to—"

"My father?" Naruto's voice cracked with sudden intensity. "You knew my father?"

Mizuki's expression shifted to one of genuine regret. "I'm sorry. I assumed you knew. The Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, created your seal. He was your father."

The silence that followed was absolute. Even the night insects seemed to pause their chorus in deference to the magnitude of this revelation.

"The Fourth" Naruto whispered, the words barely audible. "The hero who sealed the Nine-Tails was my father?"

"And your mother was Kushina Uzumaki, the previous Nine-Tails jinchūriki," Mizuki continued gently. "They died protecting you and the village on the night you were born—the night the Nine-Tails attacked."

Naruto's hands trembled as they pressed against the wooden planks of the porch, his entire body vibrating with emotions too complex to name. "All this time all this time, the village knew? The old man Hokage knew?"

"Politics," Sasuke interjected, his voice flat with a cold anger that surprised even him. "They kept it secret to protect you from your father's enemies, but really, they were protecting themselves. A weapon is more controllable when it's isolated, desperate for acknowledgment."

"Like the Uchiha," Naruto murmured, connecting the parallels they'd discussed during their weeks of exile. "Feared, isolated, used when convenient."

"Precisely," Mizuki agreed. "The great villages have always feared what they couldn't completely control. The Uzumaki clan's sealing abilities, the Uchiha's Sharingan—powers that could challenge the established order."

Naruto stared at his hands for a long moment, processing revelations that rewrote his entire understanding of himself. When he finally looked up, his eyes held a steely resolve that Sasuke had learned to respect.

"Teach me," he demanded of Mizuki. "Teach me everything you know about sealing. About my clan. About controlling this power inside me."

Mizuki nodded solemnly. "I will. But not just you." He turned to Sasuke. "The seal I detected on you is dangerous—a parasitic design meant to corrupt your chakra network over time. I can help you understand it, possibly even neutralize it before it activates."

For a moment, Sasuke's customary suspicion warred with pragmatism. This stranger knew too much, revealed too much, offered too much. Yet the potential knowledge—about both Naruto's seal and whatever dormant mark Mizuki had detected on him—was too valuable to dismiss.

"How long would this training take?" he asked finally.

"Longer than you can safely stay in one place," Mizuki admitted. "But I could travel with you for a time. Share what I know while we move."

Naruto turned to Sasuke, eyes bright with barely contained excitement. "This could be exactly what we need! Real training, answers about our families, ways to get stronger without going back to Konoha."

Sasuke weighed the options with the calculating precision that had become his hallmark. The risks were substantial—adding a third person to their group increased their visibility, and trusting an unknown quantity was contrary to every survival instinct he possessed. Yet the potential benefits might outweigh these concerns.

"Three days," he decided finally. "We stay here three days. You show us what you know about seals. If it proves valuable, we'll discuss further arrangements."

Mizuki inclined his head in acceptance. "A fair trial period. We'll begin at dawn."

---

The next three days transformed an abandoned barn at the village's edge into an impromptu training hall. Mizuki covered the walls with scroll after scroll of sealing diagrams, their intricate patterns spiraling outward in mesmerizing complexity. Under his patient guidance, Naruto began to understand the mathematical precision underlying the chaotic energy sealed within him.

"The Fourth's design was brilliant," Mizuki explained, tracing the Eight Trigrams Seal pattern that Naruto had drawn from memory. "It uses your own chakra as a filter to gradually purify the Nine-Tails' energy, allowing you to access its power without succumbing to its influence."

"Then why is it leaking?" Naruto asked, frustration evident in his voice. "Why can't I control it?"

"Because half the seal is missing." Mizuki sketched additional elements around Naruto's drawing. "When your father realized he was dying, he split the seal work—taking half the Nine-Tails' chakra with him to the Pure Land. The remaining seal was meant to be reinforced periodically as you grew. I suspect the Third Hokage planned to complete this maintenance himself, but perhaps lacked the opportunity before your exile."

Sasuke, who had been practicing chakra control exercises nearby, joined them at the table. "Can you reinforce it?"

"Not completely," Mizuki admitted. "But I can teach Naruto techniques to stabilize what's there. The key is conscious chakra circulation—cycling your own energy through specific pathways to strengthen the seal's boundaries."

In the corner of the barn, a shadow clone of Naruto sat perfectly still, eyes closed in concentration as he attempted the meditation technique Mizuki had demonstrated earlier. Five more clones surrounded him in concentric circles, each performing different hand signs in synchronized sequence.

"This is genius," the original Naruto declared, watching his clones' progress. "I can practice multiple techniques simultaneously!"

"An Uzumaki with shadow clones is perhaps the most efficient learning system imaginable," Mizuki agreed with a smile. "What would take others years to master, you might accomplish in months."

While Naruto worked with his clones, Mizuki turned his attention to Sasuke. "Your situation is different but equally concerning. The dormant seal I detected has characteristics of a cursed seal—specifically, one that amplifies negative emotions to influence the bearer's decisions."

Sasuke's expression darkened. "Orochimaru."

"You recognize the source?"

"Just a suspicion. He showed unusual interest in the Uchiha before leaving Konoha." Sasuke's hand drifted to the back of his neck where Mizuki had indicated the dormant seal resided. "How do we remove it?"

"Removal might be impossible without activating it first—which I strongly advise against," Mizuki cautioned. "But containment is possible." He unrolled a scroll depicting a five-element sealing array. "This counterbalance technique could prevent activation and limit the seal's ability to influence your chakra or thoughts."

For the remainder of their three-day trial period, the boys immersed themselves in Mizuki's teachings. Naruto's natural enthusiasm for learning techniques that connected him to his clan heritage made him an ideal student, while Sasuke's methodical precision allowed him to master the complex visualization required for seal manipulation.

By the third evening, as they shared a meal in Hana's modest home, both boys had reached the same conclusion independently. Mizuki's knowledge was too valuable to leave behind.

"We want you to come with us," Naruto announced as they finished the last of Hana's excellent stew. "At least for a while. There's still so much to learn."

Mizuki set down his chopsticks with careful precision. "I'd be honored to continue your training. But you should understand what that means for all of us."

"You'd be associating with missing-nin," Sasuke stated flatly. "Marked for capture by Konoha."

"Yes," Mizuki acknowledged without hesitation. "But to be frank, my skills have always made me a person of interest to the great villages. I've spent years avoiding their recruitment efforts—some more forceful than others."

"Then why risk traveling with us?" Sasuke pressed, ever suspicious of motivations that seemed too convenient.

Mizuki's expression grew distant. "Because the Uzumaki were scattered to the winds after Uzushiogakure's destruction. Because the Uchiha were nearly eliminated in a single night. The great villages fear bloodlines and abilities they cannot control, so they eliminate them—sometimes all at once, sometimes slowly, through isolation and manipulation."

He met their gazes with quiet intensity. "I choose to preserve what knowledge remains, to pass it to those who can use it wisely. You two represent something remarkable—an Uzumaki and an Uchiha working together, free from village constraints. The potential there it matters."

Naruto swallowed hard, clearly moved by Mizuki's words. Even Sasuke found himself reluctantly impressed by the healer's candor.

"We leave at dawn tomorrow," Sasuke decided. "The mercenaries will have reported back to their master by now. We've stayed too long already."

Hana, who had been quietly listening from the kitchen, approached with a cloth-wrapped bundle. "Then take these supplies for your journey. Food, medicines, and some clothing better suited for travel than what you arrived in."

"We can't accept—" Sasuke began, but the elderly woman fixed him with a stern glare that brooked no argument.

"Young man, when you reach my age, you learn to recognize the important moments in life. What you three are undertaking matters in ways that extend beyond this little village. Accept the gift for what it is—an old woman's hope for the future."

Properly chastened, Sasuke bowed his head in acceptance.

---

Dawn painted the eastern sky in strokes of amber and rose as the three travelers prepared to depart. The entire village had gathered to bid them farewell, news of their defense against Kenta's men having spread like wildfire.

"You understand this doesn't permanently solve your problem," Sasuke reminded the village headman, a stocky man with calloused hands and honest eyes. "Kenta will send more men."

"We know," the headman replied solemnly. "But you've given us something more valuable than protection." He gestured to where several young villagers were practicing with farming implements repurposed as weapons. "You've reminded us that even ordinary people can resist. We've sent messengers to neighboring villages—Kenta's days of unchallenged rule are numbered."

Naruto beamed with undisguised pride. "See, Sasuke? Sometimes the smallest actions create the biggest changes."

Sasuke merely grunted, but there was a flicker of satisfaction in his dark eyes as they surveyed the newly energized village.

Mizuki emerged from his grandmother's house carrying a heavy pack and three sealed scrolls. He embraced Hana with fierce affection before joining the boys at the village gate.

"These are for you," he said, handing each of them a scroll. "Basic sealing principles for Naruto, chakra pathway manipulation for Sasuke, and a shared scroll on concealment techniques. Study them as we travel."

As they turned to leave, Hana called after them, "Remember, no matter how far you wander, you have a home here when you need it!"

Naruto waved enthusiastically while Sasuke offered a more restrained nod of acknowledgment. Together with Mizuki, they set off down the forest path, three figures gradually diminishing against the vast landscape until they disappeared entirely from view—though not from the village's collective memory.

Stories of the young shinobi who stood against oppression would circulate for years to come, growing more elaborate with each retelling. The tale would spread to neighboring settlements, then to traveling merchants, and eventually across borders to distant lands. In time, whispers would reach even Konoha:

Two boys with extraordinary abilities, accompanied by a mysterious healer. They appeared when needed most, defended the defenseless, then vanished like mist before dawn.

Some said they were ghosts of fallen shinobi seeking redemption. Others claimed they were harbingers of a new age, when the hidden villages' monopoly on power would finally be challenged.

Few guessed they were simply teenagers—exiled, hunted, and finding their own path in a world that had betrayed them. Fewer still suspected what they might one day become, guided by ancient knowledge thought lost to time.

As they journeyed deeper into the wilderness, the three travelers fell into a comfortable rhythm. Mizuki shared techniques and stories of the Uzumaki clan that made Naruto's eyes shine with wonder and pride. He worked with Sasuke on chakra purification methods that might neutralize the dormant seal's influence. And when they made camp each night, he added new scrolls to their growing collection of knowledge—wisdom salvaged from the ashes of fallen clans and forgotten traditions.

"Where are we heading?" Naruto asked on their fifth day of travel, as they rested beside a crystalline stream in the foothills of a mountain range that marked the border between three minor nations.

Mizuki pointed to a distant peak barely visible through morning mist. "There's a temple there—abandoned decades ago when the monks who maintained it died without successors. Its library contains scrolls dating back to the era before hidden villages, when clans developed their techniques in isolation."

"Scrolls on what?" Sasuke asked, interest piqued despite his perpetual wariness.

"Everything," Mizuki replied with quiet reverence. "Chakra theory more advanced than what the academies teach. Medical techniques that work with the body's natural energy rather than against it. And sealing methods developed before standardization reduced the art to its current, limited form."

Naruto leapt to his feet, energy radiating from him in palpable waves. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Sasuke rolled his eyes at his companion's enthusiasm, but rose nonetheless, adjusting the pack that contained their precious growing collection of scrolls and knowledge. As they resumed their journey, he caught Mizuki studying them with an expression he couldn't quite decipher—something between satisfaction and protective concern.

"What?" Sasuke demanded, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

Mizuki smiled faintly. "I was just thinking that history has a strange way of creating balance. The very forces that sought to control or eliminate the Uzumaki and Uchiha clans may have inadvertently created their greatest legacy—you two, working together, unfettered by village constraints."

"Don't get philosophical," Sasuke muttered. "We're just trying to survive."

"Of course," Mizuki agreed, but the knowing look in his eyes suggested he recognized the bonds forming between the two former rivals—bonds that might one day reshape the very foundation of the ninja world.

Ahead of them, Naruto charged up the path with characteristic exuberance, calling back encouragement and increasingly outlandish predictions about the amazing techniques they would discover. Sasuke followed at a more measured pace, outwardly exasperated but inwardly something close to content.

The weight of exile remained, but it had shifted somehow—transformed from burden to opportunity, from punishment to freedom.

And as the three figures ascended toward knowledge long forgotten by the great villages, the whispers of their legend continued to spread, carried on the wind like cherry blossoms in spring—a promise of renewal in a world desperate for change.

The village appeared through a curtain of morning mist like a mirage shimmering into existence. Weathered wooden buildings crowded against each other along narrow, winding streets, their sloped roofs glinting with dew as dawn broke over the eastern mountains. A simple place, unremarkable in every way that would matter to most travelers.

Sasuke crouched on a cedar branch overlooking the settlement, his Sharingan activated as he methodically scanned for threats. "Small. Maybe forty buildings, two hundred residents at most."

Naruto squatted beside him, the gentle sway of the branch barely registering in his improved balance. His once-bright hair was now dyed a nondescript brown, his whisker marks concealed under a layer of specialized makeup that Sasuke had somehow procured. The transformation still disoriented him when he caught his reflection in streams and puddles.

"Looks peaceful enough," Naruto whispered, inhaling deeply. "And I can smell fresh bread. Real, actual bread, Sasuke."

"Focus," Sasuke muttered, though his own stomach betrayed him with a soft growl. Three weeks of forest rations and campfire-charred game had taken their toll on both boys. "Something's wrong."

Naruto stilled, abandoning thoughts of warm food as he studied the village with new attention. Now he noticed what Sasuke had already seen—the peculiar emptiness of the streets, the hastily repaired damage to several buildings, and most tellingly, the absence of children playing in what should have been the morning bustle of a rural community.

"You're right," he agreed, voice dropping lower. "It feels scared."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed as they tracked the furtive movements of villagers hurrying between buildings like mice avoiding a hawk's shadow. "We should avoid it. Frightened people ask too many questions of strangers."

A sharp crack echoed from the village's northern edge, followed by a woman's scream that sliced through the morning stillness. Both boys tensed, exchanging quick glances.

"Or," Naruto said with a grim smile, "frightened people might be too busy to notice a couple of extra strangers."

Without waiting for agreement, he slipped from the branch and dropped silently to the forest floor, keeping to the treeline as he edged closer to the disturbance. Sasuke swore under his breath, then followed with the fluid grace that seemed as natural to him as breathing.

They circled to the northern edge of the village, where a cluster of buildings sat slightly apart from the main settlement. The source of the commotion became immediately apparent. Five men in mismatched armor surrounded an older woman who knelt in the dirt before them, her salt-and-pepper hair falling loose from its customary tie, her weathered hands clutching a broken clay pot to her chest.

"Tax day comes whether you've got the money or not, old woman," the largest of the men was saying, his voice carrying clearly to the hidden shinobi. A jagged scar bisected his face from hairline to jaw, pulling his mouth into a permanent sneer. "The boss doesn't accept excuses."

"Please," the woman begged, her dignity crumbling under naked fear. "We've barely recovered from last month's collection. The floods took half our rice crop—"

The scarred man backhanded her with a casual brutality that sent her sprawling. "Maybe we should take something else instead." He nodded toward a small storage shed. "Burn it down, boys. Let's see how quick her neighbors cough up what they owe when they smell smoke."

One of his companions laughed, already forming hand signs. "Fire Style or Lightning? I never can decide which makes a prettier blaze."

Sasuke's hand closed around Naruto's forearm in silent warning, but it came too late. The blonde's muscles had already tensed beneath his fingers, chakra surging with the familiar prickling heat that preceded action.

"We can't get involved," Sasuke hissed, fingers digging into Naruto's arm. "It's not our fight."

Naruto twisted free of his grip, eyes blazing with that stubborn defiance that made Sasuke want to simultaneously punch him and shield him from the world's cruelty.

"Everything wrong with the ninja world is wrapped up in those five jerks," Naruto whispered fiercely. "They're using power to terrorize people who can't fight back."

"It happens in every country, in every village," Sasuke countered. "We can't save everyone."

"We can save her." Naruto's gaze hardened with resolve that brooked no argument. "We can save them."

Before Sasuke could protest further, Naruto vanished in a burst of speed that rustled the undergrowth. The Uchiha muttered a colorful string of curses that would have shocked anyone who knew him only as the stoic prodigy of Konoha.

"Every. Single. Time." He sighed, fingers already forming the seals for a fire jutsu. Whatever Naruto was planning, it would inevitably require backup.

The first mercenary never saw what hit him. One moment he was advancing on the storage shed with flames dancing along his fingertips; the next, he was sprawled face-down in the dirt, a brown-haired youth standing over him with a satisfied grin.

"You know," Naruto called cheerfully to the remaining thugs, "where I come from, tax collectors at least pretend to be legitimate."

The scarred leader recovered quickly from his surprise, assessing the newcomer with the calculating gaze of a professional fighter. "This doesn't concern you, boy. Walk away now, and we'll forget your enthusiasm."

"Funny thing about that," Naruto replied, casually twirling a kunai around one finger. "I've got a terrible memory. Especially when it comes to backing down from bullies."

The leader's face darkened. "Kill him."

The three remaining mercenaries moved with the coordinated precision of men who had fought together for years. One hung back, hands already forming a sequence of seals, while the other two circled to flank Naruto from opposite sides.

"Earth Style: Stone Prison Jutsu!" the jutsu-caster called, slamming his palms to the ground.

The dirt beneath Naruto's feet liquefied, then surged upward to encase his legs in rapidly hardening earth. Simultaneously, the other two attackers launched a pincer attack with drawn blades.

Naruto's face registered momentary surprise before splitting into a wide, foxy grin. "Wow, actual jutsu! I thought you guys just specialized in pushing around old ladies."

A blur of motion, a puff of smoke, and suddenly the mercenaries' blades met empty air where the trapped boy had stood. The real Naruto appeared behind the jutsu-caster, delivering a roundhouse kick that sent the man tumbling across the dirt.

"Shadow clones," the leader growled in recognition. "This isn't some untrained farmboy."

"Very observant!" Naruto called, multiplying into a dozen identical copies that surrounded the remaining fighters. "What else can you figure out?"

The leader's eyes narrowed to calculating slits. "Missing-nin. Probably genin-level from one of the minor villages. Got delusions of being a hero." He spat on the ground. "Boys, let's show this kid what happens to heroes in the real world."

His remaining men grinned wickedly, the air around them crackling with chakra as they prepared more advanced jutsu. Before they could complete their techniques, a cold voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"Fire Style: Dragon Flame Jutsu."

A roaring column of flame erupted from the treeline, splitting into serpentine tendrils that encircled the mercenaries, cutting off their escape routes. The inferno's architect stepped from the shadows, dark hair framing a face set in lines of aristocratic disdain.

"You're late," Naruto called, not bothering to hide his relief.

"You're reckless," Sasuke countered, Sharingan glowing crimson in the reflected firelight. "As usual."

The scarred leader reassessed the situation with the rapid calculus of a survivor. "Two of them. Both trained. Uchiha eyes." His posture shifted subtly, weapon lowering as he adopted a more conciliatory tone. "Look, we've got no quarrel with Konoha ninjas. We're just doing a job."

"We're not from Konoha," Sasuke replied coldly, the flames around them intensifying with his words. "And your job just ended."

What followed was less a battle than a demonstration. Naruto's shadow clones swarmed the disoriented mercenaries while Sasuke's precise fire techniques herded them into increasingly disadvantageous positions. The thugs fought with the desperate ferocity of men who sensed their own mortality closing in, but against the synchronized attacks of two prodigies who had spent weeks honing their teamwork, they stood no chance.

Minutes later, four unconscious bodies lay scattered across the dirt. Only the leader remained standing, blood streaming from a cut above his eye, his breathing labored as he faced the two boys.

"You've made a mistake," he growled, desperation giving his voice a ragged edge. "We work for Lord Kenta. He controls everything between here and the western border. When he hears about this—"

"Oh, I'm counting on it," Naruto interrupted cheerfully. "Make sure you tell him exactly what happened. Two kids took down his entire tax collection squad without breaking a sweat." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that carried echoes of the Nine-Tails' growl. "And if he sends more, we'll be waiting."

The mercenary leader backed away, his earlier bravado evaporating under the weight of genuinely lethal intent. He slung one of his unconscious comrades over his shoulder, then gestured for the others who had regained consciousness to grab the remaining casualties.

"This isn't over," he promised, retreating down the road with as much dignity as his injuries allowed.

"Never is," Naruto called after him with infuriating cheerfulness. "Tell your boss to try harder next time!"

As the mercenaries disappeared around a bend in the road, Sasuke turned to Naruto with an expression that wavered between exasperation and reluctant approval. "Now we've got a warlord's attention. Exactly what we were trying to avoid."

"Details, details," Naruto waved dismissively. "Did you see his face when you did that dragon flame thing? Priceless!"

"Idiot." But there was no heat behind the insult. If Sasuke were being honest—which he rarely was, even with himself—part of him had enjoyed the fight. The clean simplicity of confronting obvious villains, the satisfaction of protecting the innocent—it felt like how being a ninja should be, rather than the web of politics and secrets that had defined their lives in Konoha.

The elderly woman they had rescued approached cautiously, bowing deeply before them. "Thank you, young masters. We've suffered under Kenta's men for months with no one to help us."

Villagers began emerging from their homes, drawn by the commotion and the unprecedented sight of Kenta's men in retreat. Their faces showed equal measures of gratitude and fear—the latter directed not at the departing thugs, but at the two powerful strangers who had so easily dispatched them.

"It was nothing, really," Naruto said, scratching the back of his head with characteristic modesty that never failed to baffle Sasuke. How could someone so powerful remain so unassuming?

"You risked your lives for strangers," the woman countered. "That is never nothing." She studied them with eyes that missed little despite her age. "You boys look half-starved and road-weary. My home is humble, but my cooking is still the best in the village. Will you honor me by accepting a meal?"

Naruto's stomach growled audibly at the mention of home-cooked food. He glanced at Sasuke, naked hope written across his features.

Sasuke sighed, already knowing they'd lost whatever element of surprise or anonymity they might have maintained. "We accept your hospitality, but we can't stay long."

"Of course, of course," the woman agreed, leading them toward a modest house on the village's eastern edge. "My name is Hana. My husband has passed, but my grandson lives with me. He should be returning from the forest soon—he gathers medicinal herbs for our village."

The interior of Hana's home was modest but immaculate, fragrant with herbs hanging from ceiling beams and the promising aroma of soup simmering over a fire pit. She gestured for the boys to seat themselves at a low table while she bustled about, ladling steaming broth into earthenware bowls.

"You're not from around here," she observed, setting the food before them. It wasn't a question.

"We're travelers," Sasuke answered noncommittally.

"Very skilled travelers," Hana noted shrewdly. "With techniques I've only seen from hidden village shinobi."

Before Sasuke could formulate a suitably vague response, the door slid open to admit a slender figure carrying a basket overflowing with fresh-cut herbs and roots. The newcomer paused on the threshold, taking in the unexpected guests with alert green eyes that belied their owner's delicate appearance.

"Grandmother?" The voice was soft but distinctly masculine, belonging to a young man perhaps a few years older than Naruto and Sasuke. His hair fell in a copper-colored curtain to his shoulders, partially secured in a practical topknot that kept it from his face.

"Mizuki, perfect timing," Hana exclaimed. "These brave young men drove off Kenta's tax collectors. They saved my life—and possibly the entire eastern quarter from being burned."

Mizuki set down his basket and approached the table, studying the visitors with open curiosity rather than the guarded suspicion Sasuke had expected. "Then we owe them a great debt." He bowed formally. "I am Mizuki, apprentice healer of Riverbank Village."

"I'm Naruto, and this is Sasuke," Naruto replied around a mouthful of soup, earning a sharp glare from his companion for the casual disclosure of their real names. "Your grandmother's soup is amazing!"

"Everything Grandmother makes is amazing," Mizuki agreed with easy affection, settling beside them at the table. "But I'm more interested in how two young shinobi happened to be passing through our remote village precisely when we needed them."

There was something in his direct gaze that made evasion seem futile. Sasuke tensed, calculating exit routes and potential threats, but Naruto simply shrugged.

"We were hungry, your village was here, and those jerks picked the wrong day to be jerks," he said, as if that explained everything.

Remarkably, Mizuki laughed—a genuine sound of delight that transformed his serious features. "Fair enough! The simplest explanations are often the truest." He turned to help his grandmother serve more soup, but not before Sasuke caught the assessing glance Mizuki cast at Naruto's midsection—precisely where the Nine-Tails seal was hidden beneath layers of clothing.

That single look confirmed Sasuke's suspicions. This "apprentice healer" was more than he appeared.

---

Night fell across the village in a cascade of indigo and silver, stars pricking the darkening sky like scattered diamonds. The boys had accepted Hana's insistence that they stay the night, though Sasuke remained vigilant, sleeping in shifts with Naruto to guard against both the return of the mercenaries and any potential treachery from their hosts.

It was during Sasuke's watch, in the stillest hour before dawn, that Mizuki joined him on the porch. The healer moved with the silent grace of someone trained in more than just gathering herbs.

"You don't trust easily," Mizuki observed, settling cross-legged beside Sasuke. He carried a ceramic pot that released tendrils of fragrant steam into the cool night air. "Tea?"

Sasuke accepted the offered cup with cautious courtesy. "Trust is earned."

"Indeed it is." Mizuki sipped his own tea, seemingly content with silence.

After several minutes, Sasuke's patience wore thin. "What do you want?"

Mizuki smiled faintly. "Direct. I appreciate that." He set down his cup with deliberate care. "I want to help your friend."

"With what?"

"With the Nine-Tails chakra that nearly leaked through his seal during your fight today."

Sasuke's hand instinctively moved to the kunai hidden in his sleeve, but Mizuki made no threatening movements, merely continuing to sip his tea as if discussing the weather rather than their most dangerous secret.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sasuke replied coldly.

"You're protective. That's good. He needs that." Mizuki nodded toward the house where Naruto slept. "But denial won't help him control what's inside. I saw the red chakra flickering around him when that mercenary threatened to burn the storage shed. Just for an instant—but it was there."

"And how would you recognize Nine-Tails chakra?" Sasuke demanded, dropping the pretense of ignorance.

Mizuki pushed back his sleeve to reveal an intricate seal tattooed along his forearm—a complex spiral of symbols that bore a striking resemblance to the patterns on Naruto's stomach.

"Because sealing techniques are my specialty," he explained quietly. "And because the Uzumaki clan wasn't entirely wiped out, despite what the great villages would have everyone believe."

Sasuke's eyes widened fractionally—the only outward sign of his shock. "You're claiming Uzumaki heritage?"

"On my mother's side, yes. Our family line is diluted, and I lack the massive chakra reserves that were the clan's hallmark. But the knowledge" Mizuki tapped his temple. "That, I inherited."

"Prove it."

"Fair request." Mizuki set down his cup and formed a series of hand signs that Sasuke had never seen before. Chakra gathered at his fingertips, glowing a soft blue. "This is a diagnostic technique unique to Uzumaki seal masters. It lets me see chakra pathways and identify imbalances."

With Sasuke's wary permission, he pressed his glowing fingertips to the back of the Uchiha's hand. Instantly, a translucent blue projection appeared above their joined hands—a miniature map of Sasuke's chakra network, pulsing with energy.

"Interesting," Mizuki murmured, studying the projection. "Your chakra has unusual density around your eyes—typical of doujutsu users—but there's also a peculiar pattern here." He pointed to a knot of energy near Sasuke's neck. "A seal of some kind, waiting to be activated. Someone has marked you."

Sasuke jerked his hand away, the projection dissipating like mist. His mind raced with implications. Orochimaru had shown interest in him during their brief academy interactions, before the Sannin had left the village under suspicion. Could this be related?

"I've surprised you," Mizuki noted. "I apologize. But perhaps now you understand why I might be valuable to both of you."

The door slid open behind them, revealing a tousled Naruto rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What'd I miss?"

"Our host has an interesting lineage," Sasuke replied, making the decision to trust—at least provisionally. "He claims Uzumaki blood and knowledge of sealing techniques."

Naruto's sleepiness vanished instantly. "Uzumaki? Like me?" The naked hope in his voice made something twist painfully in Sasuke's chest.

"A distant cousin at best," Mizuki clarified gently. "But yes, we share some ancestry. More importantly, I might be able to help you with your seal."

Naruto glanced around nervously. "I don't know what you're—"

"He knows about the Nine-Tails," Sasuke interrupted. "And he's seen signs of its chakra leaking during the fight."

"Oh." Naruto's hand drifted unconsciously to his stomach. "Is it really obvious?"

"Not to most," Mizuki assured him. "But I've studied the signs. The whisker marks you try to hide with makeup. The massive chakra reserves that let you create solid shadow clones as if they were academy-level techniques. The occasional red flicker when your emotions run high."

Naruto dropped onto the porch beside them, all pretense abandoned. "Can you really help? The seal's been weakening ever since I left the village. That's why they exiled me in the first place—I couldn't control it during a mission."

"I'm not a seal master like your father was," Mizuki said carefully, "but I know enough to—"

"My father?" Naruto's voice cracked with sudden intensity. "You knew my father?"

Mizuki's expression shifted to one of genuine regret. "I'm sorry. I assumed you knew. The Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, created your seal. He was your father."

The silence that followed was absolute. Even the night insects seemed to pause their chorus in deference to the magnitude of this revelation.

"The Fourth" Naruto whispered, the words barely audible. "The hero who sealed the Nine-Tails was my father?"

"And your mother was Kushina Uzumaki, the previous Nine-Tails jinchūriki," Mizuki continued gently. "They died protecting you and the village on the night you were born—the night the Nine-Tails attacked."

Naruto's hands trembled as they pressed against the wooden planks of the porch, his entire body vibrating with emotions too complex to name. "All this time all this time, the village knew? The old man Hokage knew?"

"Politics," Sasuke interjected, his voice flat with a cold anger that surprised even him. "They kept it secret to protect you from your father's enemies, but really, they were protecting themselves. A weapon is more controllable when it's isolated, desperate for acknowledgment."

"Like the Uchiha," Naruto murmured, connecting the parallels they'd discussed during their weeks of exile. "Feared, isolated, used when convenient."

"Precisely," Mizuki agreed. "The great villages have always feared what they couldn't completely control. The Uzumaki clan's sealing abilities, the Uchiha's Sharingan—powers that could challenge the established order."

Naruto stared at his hands for a long moment, processing revelations that rewrote his entire understanding of himself. When he finally looked up, his eyes held a steely resolve that Sasuke had learned to respect.

"Teach me," he demanded of Mizuki. "Teach me everything you know about sealing. About my clan. About controlling this power inside me."

Mizuki nodded solemnly. "I will. But not just you." He turned to Sasuke. "The seal I detected on you is dangerous—a parasitic design meant to corrupt your chakra network over time. I can help you understand it, possibly even neutralize it before it activates."

For a moment, Sasuke's customary suspicion warred with pragmatism. This stranger knew too much, revealed too much, offered too much. Yet the potential knowledge—about both Naruto's seal and whatever dormant mark Mizuki had detected on him—was too valuable to dismiss.

"How long would this training take?" he asked finally.

"Longer than you can safely stay in one place," Mizuki admitted. "But I could travel with you for a time. Share what I know while we move."

Naruto turned to Sasuke, eyes bright with barely contained excitement. "This could be exactly what we need! Real training, answers about our families, ways to get stronger without going back to Konoha."

Sasuke weighed the options with the calculating precision that had become his hallmark. The risks were substantial—adding a third person to their group increased their visibility, and trusting an unknown quantity was contrary to every survival instinct he possessed. Yet the potential benefits might outweigh these concerns.

"Three days," he decided finally. "We stay here three days. You show us what you know about seals. If it proves valuable, we'll discuss further arrangements."

Mizuki inclined his head in acceptance. "A fair trial period. We'll begin at dawn."

---

The next three days transformed an abandoned barn at the village's edge into an impromptu training hall. Mizuki covered the walls with scroll after scroll of sealing diagrams, their intricate patterns spiraling outward in mesmerizing complexity. Under his patient guidance, Naruto began to understand the mathematical precision underlying the chaotic energy sealed within him.

"The Fourth's design was brilliant," Mizuki explained, tracing the Eight Trigrams Seal pattern that Naruto had drawn from memory. "It uses your own chakra as a filter to gradually purify the Nine-Tails' energy, allowing you to access its power without succumbing to its influence."

"Then why is it leaking?" Naruto asked, frustration evident in his voice. "Why can't I control it?"

"Because half the seal is missing." Mizuki sketched additional elements around Naruto's drawing. "When your father realized he was dying, he split the seal work—taking half the Nine-Tails' chakra with him to the Pure Land. The remaining seal was meant to be reinforced periodically as you grew. I suspect the Third Hokage planned to complete this maintenance himself, but perhaps lacked the opportunity before your exile."

Sasuke, who had been practicing chakra control exercises nearby, joined them at the table. "Can you reinforce it?"

"Not completely," Mizuki admitted. "But I can teach Naruto techniques to stabilize what's there. The key is conscious chakra circulation—cycling your own energy through specific pathways to strengthen the seal's boundaries."

In the corner of the barn, a shadow clone of Naruto sat perfectly still, eyes closed in concentration as he attempted the meditation technique Mizuki had demonstrated earlier. Five more clones surrounded him in concentric circles, each performing different hand signs in synchronized sequence.

"This is genius," the original Naruto declared, watching his clones' progress. "I can practice multiple techniques simultaneously!"

"An Uzumaki with shadow clones is perhaps the most efficient learning system imaginable," Mizuki agreed with a smile. "What would take others years to master, you might accomplish in months."

While Naruto worked with his clones, Mizuki turned his attention to Sasuke. "Your situation is different but equally concerning. The dormant seal I detected has characteristics of a cursed seal—specifically, one that amplifies negative emotions to influence the bearer's decisions."

Sasuke's expression darkened. "Orochimaru."

"You recognize the source?"

"Just a suspicion. He showed unusual interest in the Uchiha before leaving Konoha." Sasuke's hand drifted to the back of his neck where Mizuki had indicated the dormant seal resided. "How do we remove it?"

"Removal might be impossible without activating it first—which I strongly advise against," Mizuki cautioned. "But containment is possible." He unrolled a scroll depicting a five-element sealing array. "This counterbalance technique could prevent activation and limit the seal's ability to influence your chakra or thoughts."

For the remainder of their three-day trial period, the boys immersed themselves in Mizuki's teachings. Naruto's natural enthusiasm for learning techniques that connected him to his clan heritage made him an ideal student, while Sasuke's methodical precision allowed him to master the complex visualization required for seal manipulation.

By the third evening, as they shared a meal in Hana's modest home, both boys had reached the same conclusion independently. Mizuki's knowledge was too valuable to leave behind.

"We want you to come with us," Naruto announced as they finished the last of Hana's excellent stew. "At least for a while. There's still so much to learn."

Mizuki set down his chopsticks with careful precision. "I'd be honored to continue your training. But you should understand what that means for all of us."

"You'd be associating with missing-nin," Sasuke stated flatly. "Marked for capture by Konoha."

"Yes," Mizuki acknowledged without hesitation. "But to be frank, my skills have always made me a person of interest to the great villages. I've spent years avoiding their recruitment efforts—some more forceful than others."

"Then why risk traveling with us?" Sasuke pressed, ever suspicious of motivations that seemed too convenient.

Mizuki's expression grew distant. "Because the Uzumaki were scattered to the winds after Uzushiogakure's destruction. Because the Uchiha were nearly eliminated in a single night. The great villages fear bloodlines and abilities they cannot control, so they eliminate them—sometimes all at once, sometimes slowly, through isolation and manipulation."

He met their gazes with quiet intensity. "I choose to preserve what knowledge remains, to pass it to those who can use it wisely. You two represent something remarkable—an Uzumaki and an Uchiha working together, free from village constraints. The potential there it matters."

Naruto swallowed hard, clearly moved by Mizuki's words. Even Sasuke found himself reluctantly impressed by the healer's candor.

"We leave at dawn tomorrow," Sasuke decided. "The mercenaries will have reported back to their master by now. We've stayed too long already."

Hana, who had been quietly listening from the kitchen, approached with a cloth-wrapped bundle. "Then take these supplies for your journey. Food, medicines, and some clothing better suited for travel than what you arrived in."

"We can't accept—" Sasuke began, but the elderly woman fixed him with a stern glare that brooked no argument.

"Young man, when you reach my age, you learn to recognize the important moments in life. What you three are undertaking matters in ways that extend beyond this little village. Accept the gift for what it is—an old woman's hope for the future."

Properly chastened, Sasuke bowed his head in acceptance.

---

Dawn painted the eastern sky in strokes of amber and rose as the three travelers prepared to depart. The entire village had gathered to bid them farewell, news of their defense against Kenta's men having spread like wildfire.

"You understand this doesn't permanently solve your problem," Sasuke reminded the village headman, a stocky man with calloused hands and honest eyes. "Kenta will send more men."

"We know," the headman replied solemnly. "But you've given us something more valuable than protection." He gestured to where several young villagers were practicing with farming implements repurposed as weapons. "You've reminded us that even ordinary people can resist. We've sent messengers to neighboring villages—Kenta's days of unchallenged rule are numbered."

Naruto beamed with undisguised pride. "See, Sasuke? Sometimes the smallest actions create the biggest changes."

Sasuke merely grunted, but there was a flicker of satisfaction in his dark eyes as they surveyed the newly energized village.

Mizuki emerged from his grandmother's house carrying a heavy pack and three sealed scrolls. He embraced Hana with fierce affection before joining the boys at the village gate.

"These are for you," he said, handing each of them a scroll. "Basic sealing principles for Naruto, chakra pathway manipulation for Sasuke, and a shared scroll on concealment techniques. Study them as we travel."

As they turned to leave, Hana called after them, "Remember, no matter how far you wander, you have a home here when you need it!"

Naruto waved enthusiastically while Sasuke offered a more restrained nod of acknowledgment. Together with Mizuki, they set off down the forest path, three figures gradually diminishing against the vast landscape until they disappeared entirely from view—though not from the village's collective memory.

Stories of the young shinobi who stood against oppression would circulate for years to come, growing more elaborate with each retelling. The tale would spread to neighboring settlements, then to traveling merchants, and eventually across borders to distant lands. In time, whispers would reach even Konoha:

Two boys with extraordinary abilities, accompanied by a mysterious healer. They appeared when needed most, defended the defenseless, then vanished like mist before dawn.

Some said they were ghosts of fallen shinobi seeking redemption. Others claimed they were harbingers of a new age, when the hidden villages' monopoly on power would finally be challenged.

Few guessed they were simply teenagers—exiled, hunted, and finding their own path in a world that had betrayed them. Fewer still suspected what they might one day become, guided by ancient knowledge thought lost to time.

As they journeyed deeper into the wilderness, the three travelers fell into a comfortable rhythm. Mizuki shared techniques and stories of the Uzumaki clan that made Naruto's eyes shine with wonder and pride. He worked with Sasuke on chakra purification methods that might neutralize the dormant seal's influence. And when they made camp each night, he added new scrolls to their growing collection of knowledge—wisdom salvaged from the ashes of fallen clans and forgotten traditions.

"Where are we heading?" Naruto asked on their fifth day of travel, as they rested beside a crystalline stream in the foothills of a mountain range that marked the border between three minor nations.

Mizuki pointed to a distant peak barely visible through morning mist. "There's a temple there—abandoned decades ago when the monks who maintained it died without successors. Its library contains scrolls dating back to the era before hidden villages, when clans developed their techniques in isolation."

"Scrolls on what?" Sasuke asked, interest piqued despite his perpetual wariness.

"Everything," Mizuki replied with quiet reverence. "Chakra theory more advanced than what the academies teach. Medical techniques that work with the body's natural energy rather than against it. And sealing methods developed before standardization reduced the art to its current, limited form."

Naruto leapt to his feet, energy radiating from him in palpable waves. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Sasuke rolled his eyes at his companion's enthusiasm, but rose nonetheless, adjusting the pack that contained their precious growing collection of scrolls and knowledge. As they resumed their journey, he caught Mizuki studying them with an expression he couldn't quite decipher—something between satisfaction and protective concern.

"What?" Sasuke demanded, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

Mizuki smiled faintly. "I was just thinking that history has a strange way of creating balance. The very forces that sought to control or eliminate the Uzumaki and Uchiha clans may have inadvertently created their greatest legacy—you two, working together, unfettered by village constraints."

"Don't get philosophical," Sasuke muttered. "We're just trying to survive."

"Of course," Mizuki agreed, but the knowing look in his eyes suggested he recognized the bonds forming between the two former rivals—bonds that might one day reshape the very foundation of the ninja world.

Ahead of them, Naruto charged up the path with characteristic exuberance, calling back encouragement and increasingly outlandish predictions about the amazing techniques they would discover. Sasuke followed at a more measured pace, outwardly exasperated but inwardly something close to content.

The weight of exile remained, but it had shifted somehow—transformed from burden to opportunity, from punishment to freedom.

And as the three figures ascended toward knowledge long forgotten by the great villages, the whispers of their legend continued to spread, carried on the wind like cherry blossoms in spring—a promise of renewal in a world desperate for change.