“Hey, do you know when Ryuu’s coming back from his mission? It’s been, like… six months since I last saw him. I’m kinda starting to worry.”

  “No idea. I asked Itachi-kun, but he said he doesn’t know either. Supposedly, Ryuu was only supposed to be gone for a few weeks. At first, people were worried something happened, but Yondaime-sama confirmed there haven’t been any issues. Said he’s fine.”

  “That’s so weird, man... Do you think that rumor about him joining ANBU might actually be true?”

  “Honestly? Wouldn’t be surprised. He keeps getting stronger. I wouldn’t be shocked if they promote him to Jōnin soon. I mean, Kenjiro’s the only one in our age group close to that rank—and the only thing holding him back is his chakra reserves.”

  “Hey! Just because I’m advancing in the Police Force doesn’t mean my shinobi rank’s going up too!”

  “Yeah, right. Like you’re not a total nepo baby.”

  “Where the hell did you even learn a word like that?”

  “Ryuu. He said you’re a result of ‘nepotism.’ Then he quoted some definition like… ‘the practice among those with power or influence of favoring relatives, friends, or associates, especially by giving them jobs.’ Sound familiar?”

  Kenjiro stared at Renji, his brain momentarily short-circuiting.

  “…Wait. Doesn’t that mean everyone from a clan is technically a nepo baby?”

  “Uh… pretty much?”

  Renji confirmed, a slow grin spreading across his face as he realized the full implication of what he’d just said.

  “What the hell…”

  Kenjiro breathed, slumping slightly. The entire foundation of shinobi legacy suddenly seemed like a cheap insult Ryuu had casually weaponized.

  “Well, by that definition, any high ranking Shinobi got their rank through nepotism… All the Hokage included.”

  “Wait, you’re right… why do I hate that thought though?”

  “Cause it feels like only those with connections can actually achieve those ranks?”

  “Yeah, that…”

  “Well, that’s just how the world runs.”

  “Still.”

  Kenjiro muttered, poking at the grill with his chopsticks.

  “it feels wrong hearing it out loud like that. Like Ryuu just… took the entire shinobi system and turned it into a bad joke.”

  Renji snorted.

  “I mean, it is kind of a bad joke. A functional one. But still a joke.”

  “Just enjoy the food, man.”

  “I agree with him… but to begin with, how did the topic change like that?”

  “Oh, that’s right… Just where is Ryuu? For him to be gone like that… Has anyone talked to his mother?”

  Asami, who had been quiet so far, slowly raised her hand.

  “I visit her whenever I get the chance, however she says she doesn’t know anything.”

  “Well, look at this, the daughter-in-law visits often… that’s soooo surprising…”

  Asami shot Kenjiro a cold look, her voice laced with dry venom.

  “Keep talking, and I’ll shove these chopsticks up your nose.”

  Kenjiro smirked, unfazed.

  “You’re not denying it though.”

  Renji leaned in, grinning.

  “You do bring her flowers.”

  “They’re medicinal herbs.”

  Asami deadpanned.

  “For her joints. She’s been having flare-ups.”

  “Oh wow.”

  Hiroshi drawled from the end of the table.

  “She knows her future mother-in-law’s medical chart. That’s commitment.”

  Asami groaned, sliding down slightly in her seat.

  “You’re all insufferable.”

  “You chose us.”

  Kenjiro reminded her, mouth full of grilled sweet potato.

  “That’s on you.”

  Asami pouted but didn’t say anything more. Rather, she stuffed a bunch of the grilling meat from their side as revenge.

  “HEY! I WAS WAITING FOR THOSE!”

  “DAMN IT, MY MEAT!”

  “Should’ve moved faster.”

  Asami said primly, chewing with zero remorse.

  Kenjiro stared at her, betrayed.

  “I marinated those.”

  Renji held up his hands.

  “Let it go, man. That’s the tax you pay for teasing the daughter-in-law.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  Asami grumbled, though she didn’t stop eating.

  Hiroshi leaned over and whispered conspiratorially.

  “So… when’s the wedding?”

  Asami froze mid-bite. Slowly turned.

  “Would you like to find out how far a skewer can be embedded into the human ear canal?”

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  “Worth it.”

  Hiroshi muttered, laughing as he ducked the flying napkin.

  Meanwhile, Izumi who had so far been mostly quiet, spoke..

  “…You’re all idiots.”

  Everyone turned to look at her. She didn’t even glance up, calmly flipping a piece of mushroom on the grill like it was the only sane thing left in the world.

  Kenjiro blinked.

  “That’s the first thing you’ve said in thirty minutes and that’s what you go with?”

  “Well, I asked Itachi to come over, but he hasn’t arrived yet, so I was getting bored.”

  Just as she said so, Itachi came walking in, smiling as soon as she saw her from across the restaurant.

  Izumi lifted a brow as Itachi approached, his footsteps quiet even in the busy restaurant. He wasn’t wearing his usual uniform, just a simple navy-blue shirt and dark pants, sleeves rolled neatly to the elbow.

  “You’re late.”

  Izumi said, flipping the mushroom again like she wasn’t entirely pleased but also hadn’t just mentioned him seconds before.

  “I was on patrol.”

  Itachi offered a polite nod to the others, then sat beside her, expression unreadable but relaxed.

  “I brought you something.”

  From his pouch, he pulled out a small container and set it on the table.

  Izumi blinked.

  “Is that—?”

  “Pickled daikon from that old market near the shrine.”

  Itachi confirmed.

  “The one you said closed down last month reopened under new management.”

  She eyed the container, then him.

  “You remembered that?”

  He gave a faint shrug.

  “I remember what matters.”

  Asami made a quiet choking noise across the table, and Kenjiro nearly dropped his chopsticks.

  Renji mouthed, holy crap.

  Hiroshi leaned over and whispered.

  “Did he just casually out-romance all of us combined?”

  Izumi simply opened the container, took a bite, and nodded approvingly.

  “…Good acidity.”

  Itachi smiled, ever so slightly.

  “I thought you’d say that.”

  The table sat in stunned silence for a beat too long.

  Then—

  Kenjiro jabbed his chopsticks at Renji.

  “Okay, you’re officially no longer the smooth one.”

  Renji raised both hands.

  “I concede…”

  “I think we’re witnessing the death of subtlety.”

  Hiroshi muttered.

  Izumi looked unimpressed.

  “I’d like to remind everyone I’ve already threatened at least three of you with bodily harm today.”

  “Four.”

  Itachi said gently.

  She turned to him.

  “See? He counts. That’s partnership.”

  “Please stop.”

  Renji groaned, half-laughing.

  “You’re setting impossible standards.”

  “Hey, hold on.”

  Kenjiro said suddenly, snapping his fingers.

  “Ryuu and Itachi are both gone half the time. Don’t you two technically have like… the least date time of any potential couple in the village?”

  Izumi looked over.

  “We make it work.”

  Itachi added.

  “Efficiency is key.”

  There was another beat of silence. Then Asami muttered.

  “Okay, you know what? I’m just gonna eat until this entire conversation stops feeling like a poem.”

  “Agreed.”

  Said Hiroshi, reaching for the grilled squid.

  “I came here to talk about Ryuu’s absence, not to witness a ninja romance novella.”

  As if on cue, the paper door to the restaurant slid open again.

  Everyone turned.

  There, standing with a wind-scuffed cloak and a dusting of sand on his boots, was Ryuu.

  He blinked once.

  “...You started without me.”

  Kenjiro stood up so fast his chair tipped.

  “RYUU!?”

  Ryuu stepped inside calmly, unbothered by the wave of shocked reactions or the chopsticks that Renji immediately dropped in his lap. His hair was longer, the edges of his sleeves singed, and a faint shimmer of unfamiliar chakra clung to him like static.

  “You guys gossip loud.”

  Ryuu said, glancing at the now-empty grill.

  “Also, whoever stole the last of the marinated meat owes me.”

  Asami dropped her chopsticks.

  “He heard that?”

  Renji just stared.

  “He’s been gone for six months and that’s the first thing he says?!”

  Ryuu walked to the table, stopping beside Hiroshi.

  “You saved the grilled sweet potato, right?”

  Hiroshi blinked, then grinned and shoved the last piece into his mouth.

  Ryuu stared at him for a long, soul-weary second.

  “…You’re all dead to me.”

  Izumi scooted a bowl toward him.

  “Sit down. Eat. Then tell us what you’ve been doing.”

  Ryuu eyed the food, then the group, then Itachi.

  Itachi nodded once, expression unreadable but knowing.

  Ryuu sat, finally letting out a breath.

  “…Long story.”

  Kenjiro leaned forward.

  “We’ve got time.”

  Ryuu gave a tired, dry smirk.

  “Good. You’ll need it.”

  The skies over Iwagakure had turned a dull gray by morning, the sun veiled by dense, low clouds that hugged the jagged peaks like heavy cloth. The wind carried the dry scent of dust and sulfur. Beneath the mountain’s shadow, on a high cliff outside the village’s outer defensive line, the earth trembled as if something ancient stirred beneath the stone.

  Han stood motionless at the cliff’s edge, his crimson mask reflecting the overcast light. Steam curled from his vents in rhythmic bursts, hissed out of pressure seals at his back and shoulders. Beside him, Rōshi adjusted the brim of his conical straw hat and exhaled slowly, smoke rising from his fingertips.

  “They’re here.”

  Rōshi muttered.

  Han nodded once.

  “I feel them too.”

  In the space between one breath and the next, a strange ripple crossed the landscape. Wind folded back on itself. Sound dropped out. The air compressed, then split.

  Six figures appeared in formation at the far end of the plateau. The Deva Path stood at the center, framed by the other five, Animal, Asura, Human, Preta, and Naraka.

  Behind them, half-phased into the rock face like a mirage, Obito Uchiha emerged, mask gleaming orange and unreadable.

  Rōshi’s face darkened.

  “So the rumors were true.”

  “They sent both of them,” Han murmured, voice low behind his mask. “It’s a slaughter.”

  “Then let’s make them bleed for it.”

  With a sudden roar, Rōshi shed his cloak, revealing a body wreathed in magma-glow. The Four-Tails’ chakra surged through him, molten cracks crawling up his arms and neck like glowing veins. Han activated his steam armor fully, releasing a thunderous blast of pressure that cracked the stone underfoot.

  Without waiting, they moved.

  Rōshi launched first, lava bursting from his palms in a sweeping arc. The molten wave split the plateau in two, barreling toward the Six Paths of Pain. The Asura Path rocketed forward in response, its mechanical limbs launching a volley of chakra-embedded missiles. Rōshi twisted mid-air, forming a hand seal.

  “Yōton: Shakugaryūgan no Jutsu (Lava Release: Scorching Stream Rock Technique).”

  He hurled a meteor of lava that vaporized the missiles in a concussive clash.

  At the same moment, Han blurred into motion, faster than expected for someone so heavily armored. Steam billowed as he closed the distance with terrifying speed and punched the Animal Path. The impact cratered the ground and launched the body skyward, but it didn’t fall. The Deva Path raised a hand, and with a Shinra Tensei, the air exploded outward.

  Han was flung backwards like a ragdoll, crashing through three boulders before coming to a halt, half-buried in rubble.

  Obito appeared beside the Human Path without warning, his body slipping between real and unreal. Rōshi turned just in time to meet his eyes, but the Mangekyō spun too late.

  The Four-Tails’ chakra flared again, breaking the genjutsu mid-cast.

  Rōshi snarled.

  “You’re going to regret coming here.”

  Obito didn’t respond.

  The ground quaked again.

  Behind them, the Animal Path clapped its hands, and a giant centipede burst from the earth, followed by a massive bird with serrated wings and a feral dog that split into three as it howled.

  Han emerged from the rubble, steam churning around him like a tempest. He crouched low, then launched himself forward in a burst of pressurized force, punching straight through the centipede and slamming the Naraka Path into a wall of stone.

  “Got one!”

  He called out.

  “Keep it down!”

  Rōshi barked, his hands already forming another sequence of seals. Lava coalesced around his arm like armor.

  “This isn’t over.”

  Pain responded in silence.

  The Deva Path raised its hand again.

  Banshō Ten’in.

  Rōshi’s body snapped forward against his will. He fought it, chakra flaring to resist the pull, but it was too late. The Preta Path caught him, hands clamping onto his shoulders like iron. The lava armor fizzled, siphoned away.

  Then the Asura Path drove a blade into Rōshi’s gut.

  He didn’t scream. He just growled, spit blood, and ignited the chakra in his body.

  The explosion that followed cracked the cliff edge and sent two of the Pain bodies tumbling into the chasm below.

  Rōshi staggered back, half-conscious, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth.

  Han roared and tore through the summoned dog, steam boiling the flesh from its bones.

  Then the Deva Path floated into the air.

  The world seemed to pause.

  “Chibaku Tensei.”

  The sky fractured.

  Above them, the air twisted into a spiraling black core. Stone, dust, metal, all tore free from the ground and rose upward, dragged screaming into the growing satellite.

  Rōshi and Han were lifted off their feet, chakra flaring in desperation.

  “Damn it—” Han shouted. “We have to break it!”

  “Now!”

  Together, they unleashed their transformations. The Four-Tails’ shell bloomed from Rōshi’s back. The Five-Tails' chakra erupted around Han like a storm of white fire and steam. Both launched attacks at the core.

  It hit the forming satellite…

  And cracked it.

  But didn’t shatter it.

  Obito reappeared beside the Deva Path, one hand extended.

  “Kamui.”

  Han vanished, phased into another dimension mid-flight.

  Rōshi’s scream of rage was cut off as the black orb completed its pull.

  The Chibaku Tensei sealed around him like a prison of stone and silence.

  High above the broken landscape, Pain and Obito hovered, victorious.

  Iwagakure’s outskirts lay in ruins.

  Two Jinchūriki were gone.

  Only the wind remained to carry the news.