PART 7.

Mifune watched Sumire with calculated serenity. The young woman, who wore a simple purple dress and white stockings that highlighted her pale skin, appeared emaciated, with the marks of her recent suffering still evident in her hunched posture and the dull sparkle in her eyes.

Standing in front of everyone in the room, she didn't look up, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor, as if carrying a weight she couldn't share. Beside him, Tsunade maintained a grave but controlled expression, aware that every word he said had to be carefully selected.

"The girl is recovering." Tsunade said firmly, her eyes moving briefly to Mifune. "The state in which you see it is a result of its exposure to the moon, and that is why we have arranged this room so that it receives fresh light during the day and artificial light at night. It's not something we take lightly."

Mifune, despite his usual composure, showed a trace of doubt as he frowned slightly. Although he did not take his eyes off Sumire, his voice sounded curt as he spoke:

"Are you telling me that this isn't some kind of joke?" He asked, although his tone made it clear that he expected more than what was being shown to him. 

Tsunade shook her head, not brusquely, but with unflinching seriousness. He turned his gaze slightly to Akita, who was beside Sumire, one hand resting on the young woman's shoulder in a protective gesture.

Akita, with his slightly disheveled brown hair and the doctor's uniform he wore, projected a mixture of strength and concern. Beside them, their faithful dog, rested quietly on the bed behind them, as if he understood the tension of the scene.

Akita is another survivor of the portals. Tsunade explained. "She can corroborate what we're saying.

Akita bowed her head in respectful bow to Mifune, not taking her hand off Sumire's shoulder. When he straightened up, his gaze was fixed on the samurai with a serious, almost defiant expression as he introduced himself.

"I'm Akita. My mission role was to provide medical and technological support." She said in a clear tone, but also with a caution that revealed that not everything could be shared so easily. 

She did not mention her last name, a detail that did not go unnoticed by Mifune, who observed her with an analytical gaze, looking for any trace of deception in her words.

The silence that followed was dense, only broken by the almost imperceptible sound of Akita's dog settling further into bed. Mifune didn't respond right away, evaluating every gesture, every word.

Akita took a careful breath before continuing, aware of the gravity of the moment.

"I know who you are, Mifune-dono." Akita said, his tone now more direct. "Although I didn't expect it to be so soon, I knew that this meeting would be inevitable at some point."

Mifune narrowed his eyes, his frown revealing a deeper concern. The air in the room became even more tense, and his question was more of a demand for explanations.

"Did you expect to talk to me? Why?" His voice cut through the atmosphere, charged with the authority that came from someone who had seen much more than he wanted to admit. 

Akita swallowed, but did not look away. He knew that he could not be weak before him.

"I hoped that the circumstances of the other villages would become... Uncontrollable." Akita said, with a firm tone, but he couldn't hide the implication behind his words. 

Mifune straightened up immediately, as if the gravity of the situation had just become much clearer.

His eyes, which until then had been cold and calculating, flashed with alarm at the possibility of a threat that could extend beyond Konoha. Akita's words echoed with a warning echo, and Mifune understood that what was happening there was not an isolated matter

Mifune kept his eyes open, trying to hide any traces of surprise or nervousness. His countenance was still that of a calm and in control man, but something in the atmosphere made him uncomfortable, as if the truth he was about to hear was much more than he expected.

Sumire, still with her head down, dared to speak at last, her voice muffled, but full of respect.

"I'm Sumire." He said, avoiding mentioning his last name in a deliberately controlled tone, as if each word was carefully measured. "According to the rules of the scroll, I can't tell you my last name, except to the Hokage." He paused slightly, looking up for a moment at Mifune. "I don't want that information to be used for bad purposes."

Mifune watched her closely, his eyes scanning every feature of the young woman as she slowly lifted her face.

Her haggard appearance, combined with her seriousness and calm tone, made her understand that she was not just any girl. Although her posture denoted vulnerability, there was something deeper about her, something Mifune could not ignore.

Sumire took a deep breath, as if she were preparing to let go of a truth that weighed on her shoulders.

"The portals..." He began, his voice just a whisper that filled the room with its emotional charge. "A threat appeared not only in Konoha, but in several other places. The adults of my time had no choice. They were forced to open the parchment that brought us here... until his time."

Mifune frowned slightly, his hand clenching the sheath of his sword as an unconscious way of maintaining his composure. He was a man of discipline, but what Sumire was saying was something that even his years of experience could not have foreseen.

"The people who turned up dead in the Land of Iron... they were from Konoha." Sumire looked down for a moment, a gleam of sadness in her eyes as she remembered what happened. "Many more people from Konoha are scattered, and the Hokage ordered a group of Shinobi to go undercover to control the portals and try to save the people from being swallowed to death."

Tsunade, who had stood his ground up until that point, couldn't help but look shocked.

That was new information to her, and her reaction didn't go unnoticed by Mifune, who quickly turned her gaze to the Hokage, noting that even Konoha's leader wasn't fully aware of the situation.

The elder advisors, Koharu and Homura, exchanged quick glances, clearly bewildered by what they were hearing.

His expression of distrust intensified, and his attention turned to Sumire. Noticing the inquisitive gazes of the two elders, Sumire bowed her head in deep bow, acknowledging the weight of the situation.

"I'm sorry if my words aren't credible..." Sumire said with a mixture of humility and regret, her eyes fixed on the ground again. "I know I'm young, and that they have no reason to trust me. But what I say I don't do it only for the children who accompany me... I do it to prevent this from happening again."

Mifune remained silent, watching her as he processed what she was telling him. Sumire looked up once more, her eyes filled with determination.

"I don't intend to reveal anything unnecessary about the future... but I am ready to work with you, Mifune-dono, so that you can warn the other villages of what is happening. I only ask that you do it discreetly, for the good of all."

The silence that followed was absolute. The elders did not know how to react to such a statement, and the Hokage continued to stare at Sumire, assessing the veracity of her words. Mifune, for his part, was dumbfounded.

The information he had just received not only changed his perception of the situation, but also posed a threat that extended far beyond the Land of Iron.

The samurai looked at Sumire with a mixture of wonder and respect, acknowledging that although she was young, she had matured in the midst of extreme circumstances.

After a long moment, he finally spoke, his tone firm, but with a caution that showed he was beginning to believe in the gravity of what had been presented to him.

Mifune stood in complete silence, his face unperturbed like a stone carved by the wind over the years.

The room was charged with a subtle but palpable tension, as if everyone in it was holding their breath. Only the occasional sound of Akita's dog's breathing, which settled even more into bed, disturbed the dense silence.

Mifune's eyes, cold and calculating, drifted briefly to Tsunade, searching for confirmation, something more concrete than the words of an afflicted child.

He knew that, if all of this turned out to be a hoax or a misinterpretation of the facts, not only would his credibility as leader of the Land of Iron be compromised, but also Konoha's reputation and stability.

Mifune's analytical gaze returned again and again to Sumire, as if trying to decipher the secrets he could still hold, but his true judgment would come from the Hokage.

With a barely perceptible sigh, Mifune finally spoke, his voice charged with a dangerous calm.

His tone was neutral, but his words carried an underlying weight. What we are discussing here is not a minor issue. If this reaches the other villages and is proven to be untrue, Konoha would be exposed, and my position as a mediator between the nations would not be the same. I need you to confirm the veracity of what this girl says, beyond what has already been mentioned.

The elders, Koharu and Homura, exchanged a quick glance. Their years of experience made them see the danger involved in the situation, and they both tensed up, as if the risk they perceived had just become much more real.

Homura's muscles twitched, as Koharu tilted his head forward slightly, an expression of alertness and distrust tinged his face.

Tsunade, sensing the change in the atmosphere, nodded slowly, knowing that he could not retract what he had already said. He took a deep breath before speaking, and his tone reflected a mixture of conviction and caution.

"Sumire is not lying. Which proves the veracity of his words... it is the existence of Trozani, a village he mentioned in his story." Tsunade paused briefly, his eyes sweeping over those present to gauge their reactions. "We haven't been able to make contact with them since the situation broke out, but I sent a couple of Jōnin to notify the king of Trozani about the appearance of Sumire and the others. They are on their way right now."

Trozani's name caused a slight contraction in Mifune's frown. He had heard vague rumors, legends perhaps, about places beyond the great nations, but he had always regarded it as unverifiable information.

However, the direct mention of the Hokage gave him a reason to reconsider. Mifune, though serene, was a deeply pragmatic man. He did not trust blindly, but he did not refuse to explore the possibilities either.

"Hokage-dono... you mentioned something earlier about Trozani." Mifune narrowed his eyes, evaluating each word carefully. "You said that Trozani had requested Konoha's help due to the disappearance of his own ninjas. Do you know anything else about it? Because, if so, this could change the whole dynamic between nations."

The elders looked down, clearly tense at the new turn of events. Tsunade, though always controlled, let out a small grimace of bewilderment, as if she herself were still processing all the information.

But before he could answer, Akita, who had remained in the background, moved forward slightly. His eyes shone with a seriousness that surprised everyone, especially Tsunade.

"We suspect those ninjas were swallowed by the residual portals." Akita spoke with unexpected firmness, and his intervention cut the air in the room. "Before the scroll was fully activated, there were already cracks in reality. We believe that those cracks appeared before the cataclysm that brought us here... And it's possible that the family that helped activate the scroll was directly involved."

Tsunade raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the assurance in Akita's words. The young woman continued, without stopping, aware of the seriousness of what she was revealing.

"That family is descended from people from the village of Trozani... the Ninjas in question may have been sacrificed or used as intermediaries. While Trozani requested Konoha's help, we believe that those residual portals absorbed his Ascendants. And, as far as we know, Konoha is no stranger to this practice. The scroll was activated by a life swap, where the lives of the covenanters were offered... but only a few were saved."

The mention of sacrifices caused the air in the room to become denser. Even Mifune, always unfazed, let a faint shadow of worry cross his face. His thoughts raced along, trying to fathom the magnitude of what Akita had just revealed.

Sumire, who had until then maintained her reserved posture, slowly looked up. Although their eyes showed signs of exhaustion, there was a firm determination in them.

"It's true, Mifune-dono... what Akita says is true. The parchment didn't just bring us here... He also claimed lives in the process. And if we don't act soon, it may not be just Konoha or Trozani who are at risk. This could be extended to all villages."

The samurai remained silent, his face expressionless. He knew that the situation required immediate action, but he also understood that acting rashly could have devastating consequences. The mention of sacrifices and residual portals was not something that could be ignored, and although everything inside him begged him for caution, he also understood that there were truths that could not wait.

Finally, after a long silence, Mifune spoke, his tone as firm as ever, but now with a shadow of concern.

"If what you say is true, Hokage-dono, the other nations must be warned... But we cannot do this without more concrete evidence." His eyes, sharp as his sword, locked on Tsunade. "I must accompany your Jōnin and verify the situation in Trozani personally. Only then can we move forward with the certainty that this threat requires."

The room was kept in a deathly silence, weighed down by unspoken words and repressed emotions. Tsunade, grimacing awkwardly, took a deep breath before speaking, feeling the weight of what he was about to reveal.

"Mifune-dono..." He began, his voice low but firm. "The King of Trozani is under very specific restrictions." His eyes briefly met Mifune's before drifting toward the ground. "For various reasons that I cannot detail at this time, you are prohibited from any type of communication with the outside. The only time he was able to ask Konoha for help was an exception... something that will not happen again easily."

Mifune watched her with his dark, piercing eyes, his expression impassive as the steel of his katana.

He didn't make any gestures, but the tension in his posture revealed that he didn't like Tsunade's words. Trozani's rules, secrecy, did not fit with his vision of honor and transparency.

The complexity of the situation became apparent, and as Tsunade explained, her thoughts were interrupted.

Suddenly, a quick movement disturbed the calm. Sumire stepped forward, dropping her body in deep bow, her hands outstretched forward, forehead touching the ground. The echo of his head banging echoed through the room.

Surprise took hold of everyone. Akita, who was beside him, drew back instinctively, his lips barely whispering:

"Sum up..."

Sumire's bow, so deep and sudden, seemed to break the rigidity in the air, crumbling any expectation of contained silence. Sumire, her voice trembling but clear, began to speak, her pleading tone echoing through every word.

"Mifune-dono..." His voice cracked slightly as he pronounced his name, but not out of fear, but out of the desperation that emanated from within. "Please... Listen to what I have to say. I... I am aware that I do not have the right to ask for much, but... I beg you to believe me." Sumire raised her head slightly, and her eyes sought Mifune's, trying to connect with him, to convey the truth of her situation. "From Konoha... only a few managed to survive. The children, the majority... and beyond its borders, there are other survivors." Sumire swallowed, trying to steady herself, but her voice was still full of anguish. "But those who were left out... They have a very clear mission: not to interfere, not to cause more problems. They must control everything that has to do with the future."

The silence was broken again by the murmurs of the elder counselors, who began to protest vehemently.

"Reckless!" Koharu exclaimed. "You are not in a position to make such offers!"

"You are weakened, you do not understand what you are asking for." Homura added, his tone more severe than usual. To them, Sumire had always been a low priority, someone not worth listening to. 

However, Sumire did not back down from his words. He knelt down completely, leaning his body even more toward the floor, until his forehead touched him once more, this time with such intensity that the sound echoed through the room. The echo left a mark on the atmosphere, silencing any protests. Akita stepped back, incredulous, as Tsunade, surprised, watched the young woman's determination.

Mifune, although he maintained his serious expression, could not hide his surprise. Sumire's tear-filled eyes reflected an honesty that could hardly be ignored.

"Mifune-dono, please..." Sumire continued, her voice now barely a whisper, but still charged with strength. "I can help you. I can prove what I say... But I need time. Just a couple of days." She looked up at him, her face wet with tears, but with a determination that seemed unwavering. "I beg you... Help me protect what is still left. I can give you information that will be crucial in mediating between the villages, but... It must be just between you and me."

Mifune stared at her, his mind processing every word. He hesitated, but deep down, something told him that Sumire wasn't lying. However, his pragmatism and sense of duty did not allow him to act without question.

"I understand your position, Girl." He said at last, in a voice that did not lose its authority, but now carried a softer note. "But explain something to me... How am I supposed to trust someone who isn't even transparent with their own Hokage?"

Sumire closed her eyes tightly as she heard the question, feeling the weight of her own betrayal, of the secrets she still held.

Memories began to flood his mind like an overflowing river. She saw herself again at the academy, running through the halls alongside Boruto, Sarada, and the rest of the team. He remembered the laughter, the jokes, the mischief... the first time she spoke to Sarada, shyly inviting her to be his friend in one of the classes. He recalled the InoShikaChou, their togetherness and strength, and how they used to spend their afternoons training together.

And then, the darkness of his betrayal... how she had tried to damage everything she loved, only to be forgiven and welcomed back into the academy. Konoha had accepted it, even after all.

Sumire swallowed, her tears falling to the ground as her voice cracked with every word.

"No... I don't do it only for those who are here, inside the village." His voice was just a thread of whispers. "I also do it for those who are outside... for those who... they were once my friends..."

The most painful memory struck his mind: the last time he saw Boruto, walking away from the house he shared with Eida, Kawaki, and Daemon. He had gone to look for Kawaki, who had disappeared, but what he found was a deep void in his heart.

His determined face, full of life and betrayal; Boruto had discovered that Kawaki had failed in his attempt to catch the Seventh Hokage, and fled after misfortune befell Konoha. Sumire would have liked to follow him; tell her that she knew what was going on... but the plan would not work, and Boruto would die in the worst case.

"I just want to..." Sumire clenched her fists, her voice trembling. "I want that someday... I can see my friends again, even though Konoha is no longer my home."

Tears overflowed, wetting his face as he slowly raised his gaze to Mifune. His forehead showed a slight bruise from the blow on the ground, but his eyes, though flooded with tears, shone with a mixture of pleading calm.

Mifune, while maintaining his seriousness, couldn't help but feel a deep impression by the sincerity and pain he saw in front of him. Sumire, a girl who had made mistakes, was now willing to kneel and plead with every fiber of her being for something bigger than herself.

"Please, Mifune-dono..." He said finally, his voice breaking, but with an almost unbearable firmness. "I need your collaboration... because if we don't act, it will be too late."

Mifune watched her silently, measuring her words with cold judgment, but something inside him knew he had already made his decision.

The room was plunged into a tense silence, broken only by Sumire's heavy breathing, who still remained with her forehead pressed to the floor. Mifune, standing in front of her, maintained his imperturbable expression, though he struggled with a growing sense of uneasiness inside. His gaze, sharp as his sword, did not leave the young woman, but something in his words had managed to break through the barrier of his rigidity. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"You have spoken from the heart, Girl." He said, his tone serene but full of weight. "But sincere words are not always enough to guarantee the truth."

A murmur of approval ran through the council elders surrounding Mifune. One of them, a man with a stern face and a suspicious look, stepped forward. It was Homura, who challenged Sumire behind her glasses.

"Mifune-dono." He began, bowing his head slightly. "we cannot afford to trust a girl who acts without the Hokage's knowledge. What assures us that it is not being manipulated? This is a sensitive issue, and we should not be carried away by emotions. Let us settle this problem between us only..."

Koharu nodded, as if the speech had given them the confidence they needed to express their disapproval. A current of distrust began to permeate the atmosphere. Sumire, still on her knees, felt the pressure growing around her, but her determination did not waver. He slowly raised his head, his eyes moist but resolute, and looked at Mifune directly.

"If you will allow me, Mifune-dono." He said in a trembling voice, but full of sincerity. "I can prove my loyalty. In three days I will be ready to present evidence for what I claim. I'll give you the information you need to mediate between the villages, but I just need a little time. Please give me that opportunity."

Silence fell again over the room. Mifune narrowed his eyes, considering his words. Although his face remained unchanged, doubt began to manifest itself in the form of a slight cold sweat that beaded his forehead. For a moment, he closed his eyes, immersed in an internal conflict that no one else could perceive.

He saw with his own eyes the dead people come out of those portals. Or, he saw them later. However, the encounter was the same, and the end result was inevitable: They were all dead.

They all belonged to somewhere, a family; The village where they were born had supposedly sent them to save others, at the cost of their own lives.

As a leader, he had to make a decision that could have repercussions internationally.

"You have three days." He finally answered, opening his eyes slowly. "But if I can't see clear evidence or have direct contact with the king of Trozani at that time, I'll look for another way. The Feudal Lord wants to get to the bottom of this as well, and I will not hesitate to inform you of what is occurring here."

Mifune's decision was firm, but Sumire felt a knot in her stomach upon hearing the implications. I hadn't foreseen that this would escalate so quickly. The Feudal Lord, other villages, everything was going beyond their control. His breathing quickened as his gaze was fixed on the ground. He felt a gentle pressure on his shoulders; Akita, who had been silent until then, had come forward to comfort her.

"I'll be fine..." Sumire murmured, without looking at her, trying to convince them both that their resolve did not waver. 

"Are you sure about this?" Akita whispered worriedly, leaning toward her. "It's a bad idea, you're pressured and don't have a solid plan. We could lose everything."

The counselors began to murmur among themselves, more and more convinced that the young woman was acting rashly. One of them, with an expression of disgust, commented aloud:

"How can we trust someone who barely knows what they are doing? This is irresponsible."

Tsunade, until now silent, watched everything with a mixture of scrutiny and surprise. Though she didn't want to admit it, Sumire's words and her despair were sinking in. Although the situation was delicate, something in Sumire's delivery made him doubt his initial toughness.

Akita, with his constant support for the young woman, was also a sign that perhaps there was more to this situation than what he was seeing. Was Sumire really able to handle this without intervention? Tsunade's dilemma was reflected in her clenched fists, the uncertainty becoming palpable in every bated breath.

Sumire, feeling the weight of all eyes on her, finally lifted her head, her eyes shining with the trail of slowly drying tears on her cheeks. Despite the exhaustion and fear, there was a flame of conviction within him that refused to go out. He looked at Mifune directly, his voice firmer this time.

"I assure you, Mifune-dono, that in three days you will be able to meet the King of Trozani." She declared with a resolution that surprised everyone, including herself. "I know it seems impossible, but I will do whatever it takes to keep that promise."

The counselors were dumbfounded, unable to believe what they had just heard. For decades, they had known of Trozani's existence, but they had never exchanged words with their king. How could a simple Kunoichi achieve what no one had achieved before?

Mifune, though still not entirely convinced, closed his eyes again. This time, his countenance showed a mixture of resignation and partial acceptance. Sumire had ignited a spark of doubt in him, but also one of hope. The possibility that all this was true, however remote, was enough to give it a chance.

"Three days." He repeated, opening his eyes slowly. "That's what I grant you. No more."

The atmosphere became dense, as if everyone present was holding their breath. The elders of the council exchanged nervous, bewildered glances, while Tsunade kept her attention fixed on Sumire, trying to decipher whether her determination was real or the result of desperation.

The silence in the room was almost unbearable, until finally Sumire bowed her head once more, in respect and acceptance. He knew that the weight of the world was now on his shoulders, but he had no choice.

And with those words, the fate of everyone in the room was suspended in the air, uncertain, but loaded with impossible expectations.

Tsunade wondered if she had made the right decision to believe this little girl. But when he saw Akita, for a moment he saw a proud smile behind that serious face, used to support the violet-haired one in front of Mifune.

The slug's Hokage let out some air, and that small exhalation was like releasing a bubble of poison that had consumed its soul. For the first time in a long time, he was beginning to breathe unimpeded.

"Maybe we should take advantage of it." She recalled, in Danzō's calm, cold voice, echoing from deep within his memories. "And to find out who it was that allowed this to happen."

Tsunade closed her eyes for a moment, deep in thought. Although she apparently maintained a serious expression, inside she was genuinely surprised by Sumire's audacity. There was something about that girl, about that firm determination, that awakened a spark of hope in her.

What if he was really telling the truth? Tsunade allowed himself to contemplate that possibility. If, in a moment of crisis, a Hokage had managed to save a few of his own and, even after a cataclysm, was still ready to help the village... So, could it be possible that that same Hokage had placed his trust in a girl like Sumire?

Conflict was entangled in his chest, a silent battle between logic and hope. But, at the same time, some pride began to blossom in her. If Konoha had survived long enough to see the birth of a girl like Sumire, a young woman who, despite everything, was not afraid to stand up to the greatest leaders, then perhaps Konoha was never in bad hands.

Tsunade half-opened her eyes, a new clarity illuminating her gaze. If what Sumire said was true, if she was truly able to keep that promise, then Konoha, her Konoha, not only had a future, but she was also in the right hands.

火 

Moonlight filtered through the branches of the trees, illuminating the ground of the Feudal Lord's grounds. The glow was dull, almost oppressive. Everything seemed perfectly normal and routine, as if the constant glow was just another part of the surveillance surrounding the property.

Mirai rested her hand on the trunk of the tree. The rough bark felt real under his palm, a reminder that what he was doing was absolutely illegal. He hadn't crossed the fence yet, but just being here already meant a transgression. His heart was beating irregularly, a knot forming in his stomach.

This tree is within the Feudal Lord's grounds, he thought, and though he hadn't taken a single step further, he already felt the weight of guilt gnawing at his conscience. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if by doing so he could erase the feeling.

The impulse to squeeze the trunk tightly and break it was strong, but I had neither the ability nor the will to do so. Any noise, no matter how minimal, would be enough to alert the guards who patrolled tirelessly. If they discovered it now, it would all be useless.

He peeked carefully from his position, hidden in the leafiness of the branches. He had a clear view of the terrain from there, he had checked it several times. Two guards were moving on their rounds, walking from left to right in front of the front door. Beyond, the Feudal Lord's room, designed to avoid situations like this.

Going around the building completely would be the only option, although he could not ensure that there were no more guards hiding in the darkness.

He took the note from the Man of the "Hidden Sunset" from his pocket. The paper was crumpled, worn from the times I had reread it. The most important instruction was highlighted in crooked letters, misspelled on purpose: "This note must be destroyed before the mission."

He had read those words so many times that he didn't need to read them anymore, but he still went over them in his mind. Every time I looked at the paper I felt the weight of what I was about to do. It was a task that demanded silence, invisibility, and complete indifference to the consequences. The slightest mistake could mean the end.

A sneeze echoed nearby, a guard passing too close to the tree. Mirai held her breath, cold sweat running down her back. Fear was always present, like a constant shadow. Although the guards hadn't detected her, her mind kept imagining that at any moment someone would see her, that her presence would be discovered.

He thought about what his mother had told him about the ninja tasked with protecting the Feudal Lord: the best, trained to detect even the slightest hint of threat. And yet here she was, hiding in plain sight. Either it was much better than he had realized, or the guards had become complacent, too accustomed to the security of such an unfrequented vacation mansion.

Modesty didn't come naturally to Mirai, but she still found it hard to believe that she could go unnoticed for so long. Something didn't fit, but I didn't have time to speculate. He shook his head, pushing those thoughts away.

Again he looked at the note. If he had to destroy it, the state it was in no longer mattered. "If I get caught, the note must disappear," he thought. That said everything about the nature of his mission.

The content of the paper was clear: a vague description of the object he was to steal, its shape and weight. Mirai wrinkled her face, almost in disgust. "Why do the rich invest so much in something so ugly?" he thought.

Even covered in gold, such a ridiculous wedding gift was pointless, especially if the couple ended up divorcing later.

Mirai put the note away again. Time was against him, and he still hadn't advanced beyond the first step. I was alone in this. And he knew it.

Mirai dangled one foot off the branch, the edge of her sandal brushing against the bark of the tree. The cold of the night clung to his skin, and every part of his body seemed to resist. Doubted. The emptiness beneath her feet felt endless, a crack separating her from the fence and beyond.

He closed his eyes tightly, so tight that his eyelids began to hurt, as if doing so might disappear, vanish into the darkness without a trace.

"I must." He repeated to himself, although his mind was already full of excuses, of ways to go back. "I have to."

The weight of the words of that man, the Man of the "Hidden Twilight," crushed his thoughts. The images he had forced her to see were repeated in her mind, insistently. The faces of the ninjas of the future, calm, smiling, frozen at the exact moment before their death.

Familiar faces, faces of allied countries, faces of those she had once respected or could have admired. They all bore the same mark: the word "REDACTED" emblazoned over their features, in a deep, cruel red, like a final sentence.

His heart was pounding, racing, pushing his breath at a frantic pace. A cold sweat covered his forehead, and the tension in his body was unbearable.

She could feel her muscles tense, as if she was stuck in an intermediate state, halfway between acting and surrendering.

But what would happen if I didn't? If I didn't cross that wall now, if I didn't manage to steal the object... his friends, Shikadai... they would all end up like those ninjas in the images. Smiling, but with death sealed on their faces.

The memory of the promise she made to Shikamaru came back to her mind, pushing her to keep going. Protect Shikadai and his Friends. That promise had brought her this far, and now she couldn't afford to fail.

Finally, he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to move his body. He raised his leg, bent it, and straightened up on the branch. The air felt heavy, as if the environment itself wanted to stop her, but Mirai forced herself to lift her head. If he didn't move forward, it wouldn't just be his future that would be marked with that cursed word. With trembling hands, he prepared to jump.

Just then, a whisper broke the stillness of the night.

"Mirai..."

His heart skipped a beat. His hands clung to the bark of the tree in desperation, his nails digging into the wood as he tried to take in what he had just heard. Someone was calling her. The soft, almost inaudible sound reverberated in her ears, making her feel like a dead man was stalking her. He opened his eyes sharply, a cold panic running through his body, unable to move.

He was dead. It had to be.

The voice had been so low, so calculated, as if it were a shadow wanting to take it away. It wasn't a guard's voice, it wasn't an animal... it was something much worse. Slowly, he forced his body to spin toward the ground, his hand trembling over the tree trunk.

There, in the semi-darkness, right at the foot of the tree, he saw it.

Shikadai, his gray cloak wrapping around him, looked down at her with a seriousness he had seen only in his father. His face was tense, and in his eyes there was no reproach, only a silent understanding. But that look said it all: He knew what he was doing, and why he was doing it.

Mirai felt the weight of guilt fall on her suddenly.

Mirai froze for a moment, watching Shikadai with a tumult of emotions, as if a storm was raging within her. I couldn't process it.

Annoyance. Sadness. Fault. Anger devoured her for having been caught just before committing something irreparable. Shame, like a blow to the gut, because it was Shikadai who had discovered it.

And deep down, an unrelenting anger, the same anger that she had been burying since the day she said goodbye to him, cursing the secret she was supposed to carry.

I remembered it perfectly. How he had seen her sneak away in the dark, how she spoke to him in a hurtful way, a voice full of rudeness that was not her own. He had told her to be silent, not to mention it to anyone, not to make others worry.

He had convinced himself that it was for his good, that keeping him out of it would protect him, but deep down he knew that this was nothing more than a lie. And yet, he hadn't wanted to apologize. Until now.

A high-pitched whisper escaped his lips, filled with pent-up anger, a mixture of frustration and sadness.

"What are you doing here?!" He asked, gritting his teeth as he glanced sideways at the other side of the fence. 

His eyes flew back to Shikadai and he slid down the branch, landing hard next to him and the rest.

But they were not alone. Boruto, Sarada, and Mitsuki were with them, standing at a distance, watching with heavy looks. They knew that the situation was delicate, and although they did not want to get involved, they were already too much inside.

Mirai put both hands to her hair, tugging at it as a cry of frustration choked down her throat.

His eyes burned with fury and grief, and when he looked down, he realized that not only was Shikadai there with his team, but also team seven. Sarada, Mitsuki, and Boruto looked at her as if they had betrayed their trust, but with the same sorrow one feels when one sees someone fall from grace.

Mirai, still caught in her inner whirlpool, approached Shikadai in a furious whisper, barely holding back her rage.

"Why are you here?!" He snapped, his voice low but full of tension. "I told you to go back! To keep quiet... You didn't have to come here!"

Shikadai didn't seem fazed. His face was serious, and in his eyes there was a mixture of determination and something else. Annoyance.

"Namida heard everything." He said, bluntly. "He heard what you said to the Great Old Woman. That you left us in charge of being able to carry out these clandestine missions. He told us everything!"

Shikadai's words fell like a heavy stone on Mirai. Anguish grew inside her. Not only had she been discovered, but Namida had heard everything. That meant they knew about the ninjas of the future, they knew about the papers, they knew about the threat that was lurking in them, that threat that had already begun to eliminate Shinobi who hadn't even gotten to live that life.

The memories of those faces marked with the word "ELIMINATED" came back to her mind, crushing her.

Boruto, with a look full of pity, intervened, like a worried younger brother.

"Neechan..." He said in a soft tone. "We can help you. We know this is dangerous. Not only for us, but for you too."

Mirai closed her eyes for a moment. The weight of his words, the truth of everything she had been hiding, hit her harder than she had expected. She had been discovered, and now she could no longer pretend that she was doing it just to protect them.

When he opened his eyes, his gaze was dull. He didn't look at Shikadai directly, but his words were like a dagger.

"I asked you to keep quiet so as not to cause trouble for the Great Elder." He whispered in a tense voice. "You've done enough for us." You didn't have to come here, especially with your team... nor with Boruto-kun's team."

Shikadai tensed, his jaw clenched. Disappointment crossed his face, and for the first time, he raised his voice a little, clearly hurt.

"I told you that time, Mirai." He replied, unable to contain his anger. "You're not immortal. I'm a Chunin, too. I can defend myself, I'm not a helpless child!"

Mirai tried to silence him, her words dry and calculated.

"Come back. This is not something you need to decide, Shikadai."

But Shikadai did not hold back any longer. He raised his voice, frustrated, almost hurt by what he saw in front of him.

"You're not Nara Shikamaru!" He shouted, echoing in the tense silence of the night. "You can't handle everyone by yourself. You are Sarutobi Mirai!"

And then, something in Mirai broke.

Anger, sadness, guilt. Everything was intertwined in a tangle of emotions that suffocated her. His mind darkened, and the world around him became distorted. When I looked at Shikadai, I didn't see him anymore. He saw his father, Shikamaru.

He saw all the memories of his childhood, the peace of Konoha, the Genin who walked through the village without worries, the simple missions, the life before the war.

The papers with the word "REDACTED" flashed in his mind, but instead, images of his mother, Kurenai, would appear telling him that everything would return to normal. That he would come back later.

Suddenly, something overtook her. Before he could control it, his hands moved instinctively. He caught Shikadai by the neck.

A muffled cry from Boruto echoed through the night.

"Mirai!"

ChouChou and Inojin shouted at the same time.

"Shikadai!"

Shikadai opened his eyes wide, not out of fear, but out of surprise. His expression was one of pure bewilderment, looking at a Mirai he didn't recognize. She wasn't the older sister, she wasn't the friend who had always trusted him. It was someone else.

Mirai held him tightly, her teeth clenched, her gaze fixed, but empty. He raised his other fist, as if all the pain, rage, and fear had taken over. And, on the verge of tears, he pointed it directly at Shikadai's face.

But it didn't hit him. He stopped him. She trembled, gripped by an emotional breakdown that made her feel more broken than ever.

Mirai's fist trembled, still suspended in the air, unable to move forward. The force it exerted on Shikadai's neck was not so much physical, but emotional, as if all the frustrations and fears had crystallized in that moment, squeezing, suffocating.

Boruto, with the caution of someone approaching an injured animal, raised his hands in front of him, his face full of concern.

"Neechan...!" He said in a soft voice, but full of alarm. "Is it still you...? It's Shikadai, please remember!"

Sarada, beside him, had taken a defensive stance, her fists clenched in preparation to move if necessary. But his face was full of conflict.

What should I do?

Shikadai was his friend, someone he had grown up with, and Mirai... Mirai was a companion she deeply respected, someone who had taken on the role of a silent captain for all of them.

To intervene meant to break something much deeper than a simple mission dispute. It was evident that what was happening between them was not just a matter of hierarchies or rules; there was something else.

Sarada frowned, her gaze intense, examining their every move. And then he saw it. Something that no one else seemed to notice.

Mirai's eyes were not focused on Shikadai, nor on his surroundings. They were trapped in another reality, in another time. Sarada opened her eyes a little more, with surprise, but also with the serenity of someone who is beginning to understand.

Before she could act, her instinct alerted her.

He turned on his heel immediately, the air around him changing from a tense calm to something more dangerous. Mitsuki, who was watching her with her usual detachment, approached with a question on his lips, but Sarada raised a hand, signaling her to wait.

"What's wrong?" Mitsuki asked in his usual neutral tone. 

Inojin, who had been watching the scene between Mirai and Shikadai with growing concern, interrupted before Sarada could answer.

"There is something coming." He said with his gaze fixed on the direction of the feudal lord's compound. "The ninjas inside are noticing... they are coming towards us. I can feel them."

The conflict within the group intensified. They had to act fast. They couldn't let Mirai and Shikadai continue in that confrontation, not with the threat approaching. But Mirai had not yet returned to reality.

She was still trapped, her hand clutching Shikadai's shirt, who looked at her with a mixture of horror and defiance. His eyes showed sadness, but also a silent challenge, as if he was waiting for her to give in, to try to hit him

"We have to get them out of here!" Boruto said, desperate, looking at the others as he tried to get closer to Mirai without triggering a violent reaction. 

"Hurry up!" Chou Chou urged, moving uneasily, as if her body was ready to run. 

But Mirai did not react. He didn't blink, he didn't let go of Shikadai. She seemed to be trapped in a place she didn't know how to get out of.

That's when a loud scream echoed from the other side of the fence.

"Who's there?!"

The sound cut through the air like a knife, and immediately all eyes turned to the direction of the voice. The ninjas of the feudal lord. They were approaching, leaping to the top of the fence, looking around, their silhouettes cast by the distant lights of the complex.

Time seemed to stop for a second. Everything that had been chaos, doubts, and tensions, was condensed into a single need: to disappear.

When the ninjas jumped the fence and landed nimbly on the ground, they did so silently. Their gazes swept the area for intruders.

But, when her eyes finally landed on the spot where Mirai and the others had been... there was no one there anymore.

The clearing in the forest where the internal battle had been fought was empty, as if the conflict that only moments before threatened to explode had never existed.

The feudal lord's ninjas looked at each other, confused. They had felt something, they were sure there was someone there. But now, everything was calm.

Mirai, Boruto, Shikadai, and the others, had vanished into the darkness.