Chapter 25 Pakura Fellings

As they moved further from the battlefield, the group finally found a small clearing to rest. The night was quiet, but the tension in the air was palpable. 

Hiro, leaning against a tree, winced slightly as he shifted his weight, his body clearly taxed from the recent battle. 

Pakura, still on edge but gradually relaxing, began setting up a small campfire, her movements careful and deliberate. 

Mikoto, ever vigilant, kept her Sharingan active, scanning the surroundings for any lingering threats.

As the fire crackled to life, casting a warm, flickering light across their faces, Pakura stole a glance at Hiro. 

She noticed how he tried to hide his fatigue, the way his eyes seemed to dim with exhaustion. There was a vulnerability in him that she hadn't seen before—something that stirred an unfamiliar feeling within her.

"You should rest, Hiro," she suggested softly, her voice more gentle than usual. 

Hiro shook his head slightly. "I'll rest later," he replied, the weariness evident in his tone. "We need to plan our next move."

Mikoto, standing guard nearby, frowned as she glanced over at him. "Pakura's right," she insisted, her voice carrying the authority of both a lover and a leader. 

"You need to recover. We can't afford to push on if you're not at full strength."

Hiro sighed, knowing they were right. 

There was a pause, and Pakura hesitated before continuing. "You've done more than your share today. Let us take care of things for a while." 

She glanced at Mikoto, who nodded in agreement, her expression softening as she looked at Hiro.

Mikoto walked over to Hiro, kneeling beside him. "You should go and Rest using the Mangekyo puts lot of tool on your body," she murmured, placing a hand on his arm. 

Hiro looked at her, and the tension in his face eased slightly, as if her presence alone was enough to soothe his worries.

Pakura watched the exchange quietly, her eyes lingering on the way Mikoto and Hiro interacted. She could see the unspoken understanding between them. 

It made her heart ache, just a little. There was a part of her that admired their connection, even envied it, though she would never admit it.

"I guess I can rest for a bit," Hiro finally conceded, allowing himself to sit down fully. His eyes met Pakura's, and for a brief moment. Pakura quickly looked away, focusing on the fire again, but the feeling lingered.

As the night wore on, the three of them settled into a quiet routine. 

Pakura found herself glancing at Hiro more often than she intended, noticing the small things—the way his hair fell across his face, the steadiness of his breathing as he began to relax, the way Mikoto's presence seemed to bring him peace. 

She admired his strength, but it was the moments of vulnerability that made him seem more… human. And that was something she hadn't expected.

Mikoto, sensing the shift in Pakura's demeanor, smiled to herself. She could see the subtle changes in Pakura's behavior, the way her gaze softened when it landed on Hiro, the way she seemed more protective of him now. 

It wasn't jealousy that Mikoto felt, but a quiet understanding. She knew that Pakura was starting to care for Hiro in a way that went beyond simple camaraderie.

When it was time to sleep, Mikoto insisted on taking the first watch, leaving Hiro and Pakura by the fire. As Hiro closed his eyes, finally giving in to the exhaustion, Pakura watched him, a quiet resolve settling in her heart. 

She would protect him, no matter what. And perhaps, in time, she would understand why she felt this growing attachment to him—this connection that seemed to deepen with each passing moment.

As the fire crackled and the night grew colder, Pakura pulled her cloak tighter around her, her thoughts drifting to the days ahead. 

And as she sat there.

The realization that she was beginning to care for Hiro—not just as a comrade, but as something more—brought with it a wave of shame. 

Mikoto had become her friend, a sister-in-arms, and yet here she was, thinking about her friend's man in a way that felt wrong, no matter how unintentional it might have been.

Pakura pulled her cloak tighter around herself, trying to push those thoughts away, but they lingered, gnawing at her conscience. She felt a deep sense of guilt for allowing herself to feel this way, for letting her guard down. 

How could she let herself get distracted by emotions like this? And worse?

As she sat there, the weight of her feelings pressed down on her, making her feel small and conflicted. The journey ahead would be difficult, not just because of the physical dangers they faced, but because of the emotional turmoil brewing within her. 

Pakura knew she had to be stronger, more disciplined, but the more time she spent with Hiro and Mikoto, the more complicated everything became.

Slowly, she began to realize that this journey was changing her in ways she hadn't anticipated. 

She was beginning to care for Hiro—not just as a comrade—and that scared her. 

She didn't want to betray Mikoto's trust, didn't want to let these feelings grow. 

As the days passed on their journey to the Land of Snow, Mikoto began to subtly encourage moments where Pakura and Hiro could spend more time together. 

She noticed how Pakura's eyes would linger on Hiro when she thought no one was watching, and how her protectiveness over him had grown since their last battle.