The rain had softened by the time Kakashi arrived. The sky still wept, but the violent crackle of thunder had long since faded, leaving only the hush of falling water and the whispering river below. The shattered trees and scorched earth bore the tale of the battle as clearly as if it had been written in blood and chakra. And there, at the center of it all, lay Naruto. Kakashi stood in silence for a moment, breath caught in his throat. He took in the broken terrain, the gouged stone, the charred residue of colliding jutsu, and then the boy, face-down, unconscious, the rain mingling with the blood on his temple. The scratched forehead protector glinted beside him like a final, unanswered question. He stepped forward, boots sinking softly into the muddy ground, and knelt beside Naruto. Carefully, almost reverently, he turned the boy over and gathered him into his arms. Naruto's clothes were torn and burned at the seams, his body battered, but still, still alive.

"...I'm sorry," Kakashi murmured, voice low and ragged. His lone eye stayed on Naruto's face, searching for a trace of peace in the bruises. "I wasn't fast enough." The wind moved gently around them, brushing the trees with the soft sigh of the world breathing out after holding its breath. "I should've been there. I should've stopped it." He looked down at the boy's hand, still faintly curled as if reaching for someone he could no longer grasp. "But... you didn't give up, did you?" Kakashi's voice cracked, barely audible. "You really tried to save him." Behind him, the low patter of paws on wet stone approached. Pakkun padded to his side, ears back, the rain plastering his fur to his small frame.

"There's no sign of Sasuke," the pug said grimly. "I lost his scent after the river forked." Kakashi didn't respond at first. He looked out toward the Valley of the End, where the statues of Madara and Hashirama stood eternal watch, two titans forever frozen in opposition.

"It had to be here," Kakashi said quietly.

Pakkun nodded. "The Valley of the End... always the same, isn't it? Two shinobi. Two paths. One clash. And nothing changes."

"The river keeps flowing," Kakashi murmured. "Just like the battles. Just like the pain." He adjusted Naruto's weight in his arms and rose slowly, his gaze lingering on the place where two boys had collided with the weight of history behind them. Then he turned to leave, carrying the boy who had not given up.

Deep in the forest, the trees grew dense again, closing in like ancient sentinels watching Sasuke's lonely march. His feet moved without direction, each step echoing in the damp undergrowth. But his mind, his mind was loud. He saw his mother's gentle smile. His father's proud nod. The warmth of a home long since reduced to a memory. Then came the shift, the blood, the silence, the moonlight falling across his brother's silhouette. "Foolish little brother. If you want to kill me, hate me, detest me..." The words coiled like smoke through his thoughts. "...And live in an unsightly way. Run, run... and cling to life." The vision returned with cruel clarity, Itachi's eyes glowing red in the darkness, eternal and hollow. The words that bound his future like chains around his throat. "When you possess the same eyes as me, come before me." Sasuke's pace faltered. He could still feel the phantom weight of the Chidori in his hand. The moment he could have ended Naruto's life, the one chance he had to do what Itachi demanded. And yet... He hadn't. His fist clenched at his side.

"I won't do it," he said aloud, breath misting in the cold forest air. "Not like that." The wind stirred the leaves above him, brushing past his shoulders as if the forest itself listened. "I'll get stronger," Sasuke murmured, eyes narrowing. "But not through killing Naruto. Not through my brother's path." A single drop of rain fell from a high branch, landing on the bridge of his nose and sliding down. "I'll forge my own."

The forest seemed to part before him, shadows spilling out like spilled ink as he stepped forward. The light faded behind the trees, and Sasuke walked into the deepening dark without hesitation. Back at the valley, Naruto stirred. His fingers twitched. His eyes opened slowly, bleary and unfocused at first, then wide with realization. He stared up at the gray sky, rain falling softly on his cheeks. "...Sasuke..." His voice was weak, but there was no pain in it. Only sadness. And the quiet, solemn knowledge of Sasuke's choice. Naruto closed his eyes again. The scratched forehead protector rested beside him like a question that didn't need answering. And somewhere in the distance, the river kept flowing. The rain ceased just before sunrise. The last of the mist hung low between the trees, curling like breath against the earth, fading as morning pushed through the clouds. A pale light filtered over the shattered Valley of the End, softening the edges of ruin. Kakashi walked in silence, his flak vest weighed down by the boy slumped across his back. Naruto's breath was even, if faint, the occasional twitch of fingers or wince of brow a quiet reminder that life still burned inside him. Pakkun padded beside them, his small paws silent against the soaked ground, his nose occasionally twitching as if still trying to catch the scent of something now long gone. Kakashi didn't speak. His eye was fixed forward, but his thoughts remained behind, on the river, the statues, the memory of two boys whose hearts collided like tempests. Madara and Hashirama. Naruto and Sasuke. As if the wheel turned endlessly, binding the innocent to the sins of the past.

From the canopy above, unnoticed, a figure emerged. He rose silently from the bark of the tree as though birthed from shadow itself, his outline flickering at the edges like oil against water. Mist clung to his form in thin, wispy tendrils, veiling the stranger in an unnatural stillness. His wide-brimmed hat hung low, concealing his eyes beneath the angle of the rim, but the long cloak stitched with crimson clouds swayed in the breeze like a slow, deliberate breath. Akatsuki, but also more than just that. He stood on the branch with the ease of a predator, weightless and watchful. Raindrops pattered softly against the leaves around him, but none touched his cloak. The world below still trembled with the aftershock of the battle. Smoke curled weakly from scorched stone, and the river far beneath hissed over debris, sluggish and dark with silt.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of the man's mouth, almost too faint to be seen. "So... the vessel survived," he murmured, his voice low and dry, quiet as falling ash, and just as bitter. Each word left his lips with the weight of someone who already knew the ending, but found pleasure in watching the pieces fall anyway. "And the Uchiha... interesting. Much sooner than expected." His gaze drifted, slow, calculating, to the path Sasuke had taken, where shadows still hung thick between the trees. Leaves trembled there, not with wind, but with presence. "They're changing," he whispered, as if to himself. "This will be fun." And then, like smoke caught in a breeze, he was gone, no step, no sound, no echo. Just a ripple in the mist.

Far away, in Konoha, the sky began to clear over the rooftops. The storm had passed, but in its wake came silence. A dense, breathless hush that settled over the village like gauze over a wound. In the hospital corridors, where antiseptic clung to the air and the steady beeping of heart monitors punctuated every second, grief and healing mingled like breath and shadow. Sakura sat on a bench just outside the infirmary wing. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers curled around a small rose, its petals bruised at the edges but still whole. Her uniform was streaked with dirt, dried blood, and torn in places where thorns and battle had left their mark. She hadn't changed. Not yet. Not when Naruto was still behind those doors. Her eyes were distant, unfocused. Not with shock, but with the quiet weight of everything left unsaid. Her mind pulled inward, through layers of memory and ache, through the helplessness she'd felt when they'd brought Naruto back. When she saw his face, pale, breathing, but silent.

And then, she felt it. A tremor. Faint. Subtle. A pulse in her chest like the echo of another heartbeat. A warmth not her own, rising through her spine like sunlight pushing through clouds. A whisper. Just barely there. Sekhmet. The goddess stirred, not in words but sensation, brushing the edge of Sakura's thoughts like silk dragged across skin. Not intrusive. Not demanding. Merely present. Like something old, and waiting. Sakura's breath caught. She tilted her head slightly, lips parting. And Sekhmet's voice came, a thread of breath inside her own, soft and thin as candle smoke. "I feel it..." But nothing more. No command. No vision. No pain. Just the whisper. Then, silence. Sekhmet receded again, slipping back beneath the surface like a dream unfinished. Sakura exhaled slowly. Her fingers tightened around the rose. A petal fell, catching on her sleeve. The moment passed. But the feeling remained. Something had changed. And Sekhmet... was watching. Waiting.

Sakura rose to her feet, the quiet creak of the bench beneath her breaking the hush like a breath held too long. Her knees ached faintly from hours of stillness, and the soles of her sandals whispered against the polished tile floor as she walked. The corridor stretched ahead, sterile and silent beneath the dim overhead lights, their glow cold against the stark white walls. The faint scent of antiseptic hung in the air, sharp, metallic, clinical, and beneath it, the distant murmur of nurses moving unseen through other rooms. She turned left at the third hallway, her footsteps echoing softly. Her grip on the rose tightened just slightly, the thorny stem pressing into her palm. A single drop of moisture slid down one petal, not quite dew, not quite a tear. Her eyes found the name etched in black ink on the plaque beside the door: Uzumaki Naruto. The letters blurred for a moment as emotion swelled in her chest, something warm and aching, something she was finally ready to name. She hesitated. Her heart thudded against her ribs, steady but loud, too loud in the stillness. She pressed the rose close, feeling the cool petals against her skin, the soft brush of their velvet edges over the faint scuffs on her knuckles. Then, slowly, she reached for the door and pushed it open. The room met her with a hush.

It was dim, the only light coming from the soft blue glow of the heart monitor and the sliver of dusk filtering in through the blinds. The steady beep... beep... of the machines was a rhythm she held on to, proof that he was here, that he was breathing. Naruto lay in the center of the room, swathed in pale sheets, his body bruised and bandaged. One arm lay across his chest, the other at his side, fingers slack. His skin was pale, but not sickly. Just... still. Peaceful, for once. Sakura stepped forward. Her boots brushed the linoleum with the faintest scuff. Her breath caught as she looked at him, really looked. The way his hair fanned messily over the pillow. The faint shadow of dried blood beneath his lip, the new scar beginning to fade along his jaw. He was so often a blur of movement, of fire and laughter, but now... he was still. And something about that stillness struck her deeper than any wound.

She placed the rose in the vase beside his bed. The petals were pale pink, soft and trembling, but the tips had bloomed red. Crimson. A reminder. Of battle. Of blood. Of life. It reminded her of herself, what she had become. A healer. A warrior. A girl remade in fire and choice. Sakura stood there a long moment, listening to the soft rhythm of Naruto's breathing. It was slow, even. Not labored. Each rise and fall of his chest tugged at something inside her, relief, guilt, longing. She knelt beside the bed, her knees pressing gently to the cold floor. Her hands folded in her lap at first, then moved, slowly, to the edge of the blanket. Her fingers found the fabric near his, close but not touching.

"I've waited a long time to be sure," she said softly. Her voice was raw with feeling, the words catching in her throat before they slipped free. "But now... I can finally say it." She let her fingers brush the edge of the blanket near his hand, just barely, just enough to feel the warmth radiating from him. "I love you, Naruto." The words trembled out of her, small and fragile, like petals shaken loose by wind. But they were true. And once said, they settled into her chest like truth long buried and now unearthed. Her heart beat faster, a sudden rush that filled her ears. She had always admired his strength, his fire, the way he refused to let anyone fall alone. His laughter. His pain. His stubborn, unyielding hope. And now, more than ever, she saw him. Not as the boy chasing dreams, but as the young man who had always carried others, even when it broke him, and she loved him.

Naruto stirred, a soft rustle beneath the hospital sheets as his fingers twitched. His eyelids fluttered open, blue irises flickering with confusion and pain. He blinked slowly, the light overhead too bright at first, his gaze swimming in exhaustion. But then he saw her, pink hair dimly haloed by the fluorescent light, eyes wide and glistening. His breath caught. "Sakura-chan..." he rasped, his voice dry, cracked like parched earth after a storm.

She smiled, lips trembling. Almost laughing. Almost crying. Her vision swam as the relief surged so violently it made her chest ache. "You don't have to say anything. I just-"

"I wanted you," Naruto said softly, the words catching as they escaped him. "Always. You were all I ever wanted... besides being Hokage." Her breath froze in her throat. She stared at him, her world narrowing to the bruised boy in front of her. His face was still pale, mouth bloodless, and yet those words, simple, honest, landed like thunder. 'He means it. He's always meant it.' "But... I have to get stronger," he whispered. His gaze dropped to the sheets. "I have to bring Sasuke back." Her heart twisted in on itself. The edges of her smile wavered. She had known this would come, had felt it like a pressure behind her ribs since the moment she stepped into the room. It didn't make it hurt less. 'Of course. Of course, he still thinks of him first.'

She looked down quickly, her teeth pressing hard into the inside of her cheek to stop the sob curling in her throat. Her hands, which had just held so much hope, now felt cold and empty. She forced the smile back onto her lips, shaped it carefully with the pain still wet in her eyes. "I understand." She rose slowly, the motion stiff, every muscle resisting. Her palm slipped from his hand like a leaf from a branch, fluttering downward. "You always do what you say you'll do," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "That's what I... love about you." 'And that's why I have to let you go.' She turned toward the door, the sound of her footsteps soft against the tile. Behind her, Naruto's eyes widened, and his lips parted, just slightly, just enough that she knew he almost said her name. But he didn't, and she didn't stop. The door closed behind her with a soft click, and the moment sealed itself like a wound she wasn't sure would ever stop bleeding. One tear traced her cheek, hot and longing. She didn't wipe it away. Not this time.

Later that evening, on the rooftop of the Hokage's office, Jiraiya leaned against the railing, watching the fading sun dip into the mountains. Naruto stood beside him, the wind tugging at his hospital robe, still weak but upright. "You sure about this, kid?" Jiraiya asked. "Leaving everything behind for three years won't be easy."

Naruto didn't hesitate. "Yeah. I have to get stronger. I couldn't stop Sasuke. Not this time."

Jiraiya studied him for a moment, then gave a small grin. "Well then. We'll leave soon." Naruto nodded, looking up at the sky, clear now, the stars beginning to burn through the twilight. He made a silent promise, not just to Sasuke, but to Sakura. To himself. That the next time he returned to this village, he would be strong enough.

The next day Sakura woke up more serious about her training than she had ever been. She had arrived at the Hokage tower early in the morning. Sakura sat attentively as Tsunade began to explain the foundational rules every medic ninja must follow, her tone measured and solemn. "The First Clause," Tsunade said, meeting Sakura's eyes with unwavering seriousness, "No medic ninja shall ever stop medical treatment until the lives of their party members have come to an end. This means no matter how dire or hopeless a situation may seem, you must never give up on your comrades while there is still breath in their bodies." Sakura nodded slowly, feeling the weight of that responsibility settle deep within her.

"Next, the Second Clause: No medic ninja shall ever stand on the front lines. Your role is to preserve life, not to risk it needlessly. You must always keep yourself safe so you can continue to heal others." Tsunade's voice was sharp, a reminder that the life of a medic ninja balanced strength with prudence.

"The Third Clause is no less important: No medic ninja shall ever die until they are the last of their platoon. The lives of your teammates rest on you, Sakura. To fall before them is to fail them." Sakura's eyes flickered with a mix of determination and solemnity, understanding the gravity behind every rule.

Tsunade's expression softened as she delivered the final and most revered law. "The Fourth Clause: Only those medic ninja who have mastered the Strength of a Hundred Technique of the ninja art Creation Rebirth are permitted to discard the above-mentioned laws. This mastery is not given lightly. It's a sacred threshold you must reach." Sakura leaned in, eager to learn more.

Tsunade's sharp gaze softened just a little as she regarded Sakura. "You've made excellent progress with your medical ninjutsu," she said, folding her arms thoughtfully. "But being a medic ninja isn't just about healing others. You must also be able to protect yourself." Sakura nodded, eager to prove herself beyond the medical arts. Without warning, Tsunade stepped forward, her hands glowing faintly with chakra. In a blink, a powerful strike connected with Sakura's arm, bone cracking audibly beneath the force. Sakura gasped, shock and pain flooding her senses. Tsunade's voice was calm but firm. "Now, it's your job to fix this yourself." Grimacing, Sakura focused, feeling her chakra gather and flow precisely to the broken bone. She willed her cells to divide rapidly, stitching the damage back together from the inside. The searing pain dulled as the fracture mended, leaving her arm aching but whole again.

Tsunade studied her carefully. "Good. Healing others is crucial, but you must learn to avoid getting hurt in the first place. It's your responsibility to dodge and defend until you reach mastery of the Byakugō Seal."

Sakura blinked, surprised. "Byakugō Seal?"

Tsunade shook her head slightly, lips tight. "Not yet, I will not train you to achieve it, that's for later. For now, you must train your body and mind to withstand and evade harm. Healing alone won't save you if you can't keep yourself safe."

Sakura's jaw set with determination. "I understand. I'll train harder, both to protect myself and to heal others."

Tsunade gave a rare approving smile. "Good. That's exactly the mindset of a true medic ninja."

The evening air wrapped the inn in a warm, comforting haze, thick with the mingling aromas of sizzling grilled fish, its crispy skin crackling softly under the gentle heat, and the sweet, mellow fragrance of freshly poured sake, steaming faintly in the cool night. Lantern light flickered against the wooden beams, casting dancing shadows that softened the edges of the room and lent a quiet intimacy to their secluded corner. The low murmur of distant conversations and the clinking of ceramic cups created a soothing backdrop, punctuated by the occasional scrape of a chair or the faint rustle of kimono fabric.

Jiraiya leaned back with practiced ease, the corners of his mouth twitching into a mischievous grin as his eyes sparkled beneath the wild strands of his white hair, a subtle glint of amusement hiding in their depths. The warmth of the sake slid smoothly down his throat, loosening the tension in his shoulders and sharpening his wit. Across from him, Tsunade's gaze was steady, proud yet threaded with concern, her gold eyes reflecting the lantern's soft glow as she watched the others, every muscle in her poised frame ready to spring into action if needed. She exuded a quiet strength, like the calm before a storm. Kakashi sat beside her, his single visible eye calm but ever alert, flicking over the room with that familiar mix of weariness and sharp intelligence. The subtle scent of his silver hair mingled faintly with the room's warmth, and the faint rustle of his cloak marked his restless energy beneath his composed exterior. Nearby, Guy radiated infectious enthusiasm, his wide grin and bright eyes practically igniting the space around him, his energy a buoyant contrast to the evening's calm. Shizune, seated quietly beside Tsunade, grounded the group with her calm presence, her gentle voice and soft smiles smoothing the air like a gentle breeze, steadying the moment with unspoken support. Together, they formed a circle of contrasting energies, laughter and seriousness, ease and vigilance, held close in the hushed glow of the inn, a rare moment of peace in a world often burdened with war and duty.

Tsunade was the first to break the comfortable hum of conversation. Her voice cut through the low chatter like a steady pulse, calm but filled with weight. "You know," she began, swirling the amber liquid in her cup slowly, the faint clink of ceramic against wood barely audible in the quiet room, "watching Sakura over the past few days... it's been remarkable." She paused, her sharp eyes tracing the faces around the table as if searching for the right words, the soft glow of lantern light casting shadows that danced across her serious expression. "Her control over chakra is exceptional, far beyond what I expected for someone her age." A moment hung between them, the air thick with unspoken respect. "Her ability to perform advanced medical ninjutsu, with such precision and intuition... it's something I rarely see, even among seasoned healers." The words settled softly but firmly, carrying the weight of experience and genuine admiration.

Kakashi nodded thoughtfully, the faint glow from the paper lanterns reflecting off the silver strands of his hair and the edges of his headband. His single visible eye, sharp and calm beneath the mask, held a quiet respect as he spoke. "I've seen a lot of shinobi in my time," he said, voice steady but low, "but Sakura's dedication stands out." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle among the group. "She's not just mimicking techniques, she understands the flow of chakra on a fundamental level, which leads her to make them her own." The room seemed to grow quieter, as if the shadows themselves leaned in to listen. "That kind of insight is rare," Kakashi continued, "and it's only going to grow with time." His gaze briefly flickered toward the door, a subtle mix of hope and caution lingering in his expression.

Guy's eyes sparkled with excitement, practically lighting up the dim room, and he practically vibrated in his seat. "That's the spirit! Sakura's not just a medical ninja, she's a warrior with heart. The way she's pushing herself in training, mastering those taijutsu forms while keeping her healing skills sharp, it's incredible. She's got the drive to be one of the best, no doubt about it!" He leaned forward, voice rising with pride and enthusiasm. "I've seen plenty of students, but Sakura's different. She attacks every challenge head-on, never backing down, always hungry to improve. Her focus when opening the Eight Gates? That takes guts, and control most can't dream of. And the way she blends precision with raw power? That's rare. She's not just learning, she's transforming herself, turning every lesson into something uniquely hers. Mark my words: she's destined to be a legend."

Shizune smiled softly, her voice gentle but firm as she glanced toward the flickering candlelight casting warm shadows across the table. "It's clear she has an extraordinary talent," she said, her tone steady and thoughtful. "More importantly, she carries the burden of responsibility with grace. That balance between strength and compassion... It's what defines a true healer. I've watched many come and go, but Sakura's resolve doesn't waver even when the weight of expectations presses down. She understands that healing isn't just about fixing wounds, it's about mending hearts and spirit too. That kind of maturity, especially at her age, is rare and invaluable."

Jiraiya chuckled, the sound rich and warm as he raised his cup, the amber liquid catching the firelight like liquid gold. A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes as he leaned forward slightly. "You know, when I first met her, I thought she was just a determined kid, stubborn as a mule, but with heart." He shook his head with a knowing smile. "But now? She's showing signs of becoming something much more, maybe even a legend in the making. With the right guidance, discipline, and a little patience, she could master the Byakugou Seal one day. That's no small feat, it's a power that can change the tide of any battle, a secret weapon hidden in plain sight." He tapped his cup gently. "If anyone can do it, it's Sakura."

Tsunade's expression softened, her eyes reflecting a mix of reverence and caution as she lifted her hand, fingertips lightly touching the faint, pale mark of her own Byakugou Seal resting just above her brows. "The Byakugou... it's not a technique to take lightly," she said quietly, voice steady with experience. "It requires not only immense chakra reserves but the wisdom to wield it properly, knowing when to heal, when to conserve, and when to unleash its full power. Sakura has the potential, no doubt, but it will take years of discipline, patience, and growth, not just in strength, but in understanding herself." Her gaze lingered with an unspoken challenge, full of hope and expectation.

Kakashi added quietly, "She's got the talent, no question. But mastering something like the Byakugou Seal isn't just about raw ability. It's about discipline, patience, and knowing exactly why you're using it. Without that clarity of purpose, power can become a liability rather than a strength."

Guy's grin faltered for a moment, then he shook his head firmly. "No offense, Kakashi, but you're selling Sakura short. She could never be a liability. Not anymore. She's got a fire burning inside her that can't be taught. That raw will, that fierce determination, that's what sets her apart. She's not just capable of doing what's expected; she's going to blow past all limits and change the game entirely." The group fell into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts about the future. Outside, the night deepened, the village's gentle hum a reminder of everything at stake.

Tsunade finally spoke again, her voice steady and resolute, cutting through the warm murmur of the room like a beacon. "We have to support her, every step of the way." Her eyes glimmered with quiet determination, reflecting the amber glow of the lanterns around them. "Sakura's journey is just beginning, but if she continues like this... she'll be a pillar for the village, a healer, a protector, and maybe even a symbol of hope." The weight of her words settled gently over the group, mingling with the faint scent of sake and the soft crackle of the hearth. The air felt thick with unspoken promises, as if the very walls of the inn were holding their breath in reverence.

Jiraiya raised his cup once more, the rim catching the dim light as a slow smile tugged at his lips, warmth threading through his tone. "To Sakura, may her strength and spirit never waver." The others lifted their cups in unison, the clink ringing softly like a promise. Their eyes met briefly, hearts quietly bound in shared belief and hope for the girl who was steadily becoming something extraordinary, a quiet force destined to change the course of their world.

Guy's grin widened, his enthusiasm infectious as he added, "She's not just going to meet expectations, she's going to shatter them. Sakura's got fire in her, and that fire's going to light the way for everyone." His voice echoed slightly in the cozy room, stirring a ripple of energy among the group. Outside, the night deepened, cradling the village in a gentle hush, the soft rustle of leaves and distant calls of night birds weaving into the stillness. It was as if the world itself awaited Sakura's next step, the quiet before a storm of greatness.

Naruto had stepped in briefly, hair tousled from the wind and eyes a little too bright for the hour. The breeze clung to him, leaves caught in the folds of his jacket, and the faintest hint of iron, dried sweat and kunai oil, still lingered on his skin. "Oi, Pervy Sage, I'll be ready soon! I just gotta grab something from the pack." His voice carried that usual scratch of youthful confidence, but it lacked some of its usual volume, like even he knew to speak quieter in moments like this. The room wasn't loud, but it listened, and Naruto, for once, didn't try to fill it. He looked around the table, grinned sheepishly at Shizune, who raised an eyebrow but returned a faint smile. He offered Guy a half-bow, rigid with effort, and Kakashi a lazy wave, fingers flicking up like the gesture cost more than it should've. Then he turned to Tsunade and gave her a look that tried too hard to be casual, the edges of it betraying how much he cared. His eyes flicked to the wrapped scrolls near her elbow, to the sake bottle she hadn't touched.

"Hey Granny," he said, voice dipping just enough to soften the words, "try not to miss me too much." Tsunade didn't answer right away. She studied him quietly, the flicker of worry passing over her golden eyes too quickly for most to catch, but Naruto saw it. 'I'll come back,' he wanted to say, but didn't. Not yet.

"Tch. Yeah yeah." And with that, he ducked out, his sandals padding softly on the wooden floor, leaving only the echo of his presence behind like the last warmth of a fading ember. Tsunade poured herself a final splash of sake, though the previous one sat untouched, its surface trembling slightly in the morning light. The bottle in her hand felt heavier than it should have. "Leaving at dawn?" she asked, her voice even, almost clinical, like she was reciting a mission briefing, but her eyes lingered on Jiraiya too long, sharp beneath the haze of sleeplessness and worry.

Jiraiya nodded and reached for his cup, his fingers brushing the rim with a slowness that gave him away. "Sooner, if we can manage it," he said, voice rougher than usual, like the dust of the road already clung to it. "I want to get out before the market crowds wake up." The cup met his lips, but he didn't drink. He just held it there, the steam from the sake curling toward his face like something that refused to let go.

"Always so eager to vanish," Kakashi said with that tired, knowing smile beneath his mask, but his single eye was clear and direct. He wasn't teasing. Not really.

"Easier than saying goodbye," Jiraiya replied, setting the cup down without sipping. The clink of ceramic on wood was too loud in the quiet room. He didn't look at Tsunade. Didn't have to. The ache between them was already understood. He sipped the sake slowly, the warm liquid a brief comfort against the chill settling into his bones. Then he stood, the heavy robe around his shoulders shifting with the movement, the familiar deep red fabric swaying gently like a banner in a soft breeze. His fingers grazed the edge of the chair as he pushed it back with a muted scrape against the wooden floor. He glanced at Tsunade, eyes shadowed but steady. "Walk me out?" he asked quietly, a rare vulnerability threading through his voice.

Tsunade hesitated for a heartbeat, then rose without a word, her footsteps light as they left the dimly lit room behind. The others didn't interrupt or follow; the space between them felt sacred. Outside, the cool night air wrapped around them like a silent promise, carrying the faint scent of dew and woodsmoke. The wind teased at her golden hair, lifting stray strands to dance with his dark locks. For a long stretch, silence held them, the only sound the distant call of a night bird and the rustling of leaves overhead. Then Jiraiya turned, eyes meeting hers without a flicker of jest or bravado. He opened his arms slowly, inviting her in. She didn't hesitate. Her arms slid around him, the weight of years and unspoken fears melting away in the quiet embrace. Not the Fifth Hokage. Not the legendary medic-nin. Just Tsunade; worn, hopeful, human. And he was only Jiraiya, the friend who'd carried too much alone. The hug was brief but full, holding every word they'd never said aloud.

"You take care of that brat," she murmured, her voice trembling just slightly against his shoulder.

"I will," he replied, voice low and sure. "He's stronger than you think."

"I know exactly how strong he is," she said, her breath catching in the night air. "That's why I'm afraid."

He pulled back, fingers steady on her arms, anchoring her. "We'll come back." The certainty in his words was a lifeline. She didn't ask when. She didn't ask if. She only nodded once, a silent vow, then turned away, her footsteps soft as she disappeared back toward the inn. After she was gone, Jiraiya exhaled slowly, the cold night pressing in around him like a weight, and for a moment, the loneliness settled deep in his chestThen he turned toward the road, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot breaking the heavy silence. Naruto stood beneath a weathered wooden post, the pale moonlight casting silver highlights across his tousled hair and glinting off the cold metal of his hitai-ate. The pack slung carelessly over one shoulder seemed heavier than it should be, as if burdened by more than just supplies.

Jiraiya's voice was low but firm, cutting through the stillness. "You didn't say goodbye to her."

Naruto's gaze dropped to the ground, shadows flickering across his face. His jaw tightened, and his voice was rough, brittle with emotion. "I don't deserve to. Not after..."

"You told her the truth," Jiraiya interrupted gently. "That's not something to be ashamed of."

The younger boy's eyes flickered with a flash of pain, quieter now, almost a whisper. "Still hurts."

Jiraiya said nothing more. Instead, he reached out and gave Naruto a light tap on the head, a small gesture of reassurance, familiar and grounding. "C'mon." Naruto's shoulders straightened slightly, the weight in his chest momentarily lifted by the quiet support. He turned toward the path ahead, ready to face what was coming. Behind them, the village lay silent, the night air thick with unspoken words. Naruto had called for all of Konoha 11 to meet him near the gate, but notably, not Sakura. The absence echoed quietly in the space between heartbeats.

Naruto approached the training grounds under the soft glow of early dawn, the air crisp and tinged with the earthy scent of damp grass. There, near the edge of the field, Kiba sat cross-legged on the rough stone, Akamaru resting loyally by his side, his fur ruffled from the morning breeze. The two looked up as Naruto came close, eyes brightening despite the heavy weight in the air. Naruto grinned and bumped his fist against Kiba's shoulder. "Hey, Inuzuka. Ready for whatever comes next?"

Kiba smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Always. You think the Nine-Tails can keep up with Akamaru's speed, huh?" Akamaru barked softly, tail wagging, as if to say he'd chase down anything.

Naruto chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't get eaten by your own dog, alright?"

Kiba laughed, a low, rough sound. "That'd be the day. Don't worry, I've got your back, Naruto. Even if you're a stubborn idiot."

Naruto smiled, warmth flickering through the fatigue. "Same here, man. We'll make it through. Somehow." Kiba bumped fists with Naruto. The moment was simple, lighthearted, almost normal, but beneath it lingered the unspoken understanding that things were about to change, and none of them could take that lightly.

Naruto approached Shino near the edge of the village, where the shadows of tall trees stretched long across the ground, cool and still in the quiet morning air. Shino stood motionless, his eyes hidden behind dark lenses, his posture rigid as ever, like a sentinel guarding secrets no one dared to ask about. The faint scent of earth and insects hung around him, mingling with the distant chirping of birds waking to the new day. Naruto stopped a few steps away and lowered his head in a deep bow, the weight of unspoken respect settling over him. "Shino-san," he said quietly, voice steady but edged with something softer, "Thanks for always watching my back."

Shino inclined his head once, the only sign of acknowledgment, his expression unreadable beneath the mask of calm. After a moment, he spoke in his usual even tone, "You carry more than your burden alone, Naruto. But you do not carry it poorly."

Naruto lifted his gaze, meeting Shino's quietly steady eyes. "I'll keep going. For all of us." Shino's nod was slight but firm, a silent promise shared between comrades who understood the weight of what lay ahead.

Hinata stood by the wooden fence near the village square, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her jacket. The soft morning light caught in her dark hair, casting a gentle glow around her flushed cheeks. Her breath came in small, uneven bursts as she opened her mouth to speak, but the words tangled up and slipped away before she could form them. Naruto approached quietly, his footsteps light on the stone path. He caught her eyes, warm and steady beneath his tousled blond hair. He smiled gently, a reassuring curve that reached all the way to his bright blue eyes. "Hey, Hinata," he said softly, his voice like a calm breeze. "You're doing great." He lifted a hand in a small wave, his eyes never leaving hers.

Hinata's heart fluttered wildly, her mouth still caught between silence and the urge to speak. She blinked rapidly, cheeks burning deeper, and finally whispered, "Th-thank you, Naruto-kun..." He gave her a nod and turned away, leaving behind a quiet warmth that lingered long after his footsteps faded. She stood frozen for a moment, the soft pulse of hope and courage rising inside her like a gentle tide.

Tenten caught Naruto just as he was about to step away, her dark eyes sharp and steady beneath the loose strands of her hair. Her hand came down with a firm, practical pat on his shoulder, the touch grounding and real. "Good luck out there," she said, her voice calm but carrying an unspoken challenge. "Don't slack off. Train hard, no excuses."

Naruto met her gaze, catching the quiet strength behind her words. He nodded, feeling a spark of determination flicker to life. "I won't," he promised, a grin tugging at his lips. "Thanks, Tenten." She gave a small, approving smile before turning back to her weapons, the clink of kunai in her pouch a reminder of the work ahead. Naruto's chest swelled with resolve as he moved forward, the weight of her words steadying him like armor.

Lee threw himself at Naruto with all the fiery passion he was known for, arms wrapping tight around his friend's shoulders. His voice cracked with emotion, loud and earnest, echoing across the quiet street. "Naruto! You've got to promise me, promise me you'll never give up! Youth is a flame that must never be extinguished! We're rivals, yes, but more than that, we're comrades burning with the same fire!" His eyes shone bright, glistening with tears as he squeezed Naruto fiercely. "I believe in you! Believe in yourself! Fight with everything you've got, no matter how hard it gets!"

Naruto's heart thudded, the raw sincerity wrapping around him like a warm cloak, and he smiled through the sting of emotion. "I swear it, Lee. I won't stop. Not now, not ever."

Neji stepped forward with quiet confidence, his gaze steady beneath the pale moonlight. His hand extended, fingers strong yet measured. Naruto met it without hesitation, their grip firm, solid enough to carry the weight of unspoken promises. The cool night air seemed to hum between them, charged with a newfound respect. "Protect what matters," Neji said softly, his voice calm but resolute, eyes never leaving Naruto's. "Even from yourself. Sometimes the hardest battles are the ones within." Naruto nodded, the weight of those words settling deep inside him. He bowed deeply, sincerity flooding his features. For the first time, Neji returned the gesture, a subtle tilt of his head that spoke of understanding, of acceptance.

"I won't forget," Naruto replied quietly, the promise hanging between them like a bond forged anew.

Choji approached with his usual slow, steady gait, a small paper bag crinkling softly in his hand. The warm scent of steamed buns and sweet red bean treats drifted from it, comforting in the cool night air. His cheeks were flushed, though whether from the chill or something deeper, Naruto couldn't tell. "Here," Choji said gruffly, thrusting the bag forward. "Don't make me regret giving you this, okay? You better not waste it."

Naruto smiled, the simple gesture carrying more weight than words. "Thanks, Choji. I'll keep you in mind when I'm hungry."

Choji cleared his throat, looking away as if hiding something. "I'm not... tearing up or anything. Don't get the wrong idea," he muttered, voice rough but honest.

Naruto chuckled softly, clapping Choji on the shoulder. "I know, man. I know."

Ino wrapped her arms around Naruto in a quick, tight hug that felt both familiar and fierce, like the protective squeeze of a sister who had watched him grow up. Her hair brushed softly against his cheek, and the faint scent of flowers lingered in the cool night air. Her eyes sparkled with concern and something unspoken, possibly hope, maybe, or worry. "Don't do anything too stupid, okay?" she whispered, voice low but firm, her forehead pressing briefly against his. "We need you coming back in one piece. No crazy stunts."

Naruto grinned despite the heaviness in his chest. "No promises, Ino-chan, but I'll try not to mess up too badly."

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her smile teasing but sincere. "That's all I ask."

Shikamaru walked beside Naruto with his usual slow, deliberate pace, the soft crunch of their footsteps mingling with the evening breeze rustling through the village trees. The fading sunlight cast long shadows on the worn stone path as they approached the main gate, the air thick with unspoken words and the scent of dust and smoke from distant fires. "You're still an idiot," Shikamaru muttered, eyes fixed ahead but voice carrying a rare edge of warmth beneath the sarcasm.

Naruto chuckled, the sound light but steady. "Wouldn't be me otherwise."

Shikamaru's hands slid deep into his pockets, fingers tapping absentminded rhythms against the fabric. "Just... come back alive, okay? I don't want to waste more energy worrying about you."

Naruto's grin softened, the weight behind Shikamaru's words settling over him like a quiet anchor. "I will. Take care of Sakura for me, yeah?"

Shikamaru glanced sideways, the faintest crack in his usual stoic mask. "Yeah, as troublesome as she is... I got it covered, and don't make me regret counting on you."

Naruto's eyes met his, steady and sure. "I won't." With that, Naruto squared his shoulders against the chill of the evening and stepped toward the gate, the path ahead both daunting and certain beneath his determined stride. Jiraiya stood at the village gate, arms folded tightly across his chest, his weathered eyes fixed on the horizon where the first pale fingers of dawn stretched across the sky. The heavy wooden gates creaked open slowly, their aged timbers groaning like old bones burdened by the weight of countless years and memories. As Naruto and Jiraiya stepped through, their figures became elongated shadows, cast long and fragile by the soft golden light that spilled over the earth. Behind them, the forest loomed, silent, waiting, vast. The scent of damp earth and fresh pine mingled with the cool morning air, wrapping around the departing pair like a quiet farewell. Somewhere high above, birds began their morning chorus, hesitant and tentative, as if sensing the gravity of what was unfolding below.

Inside her small apartment, Sakura stood motionless at the window, the fragile glass cool beneath her trembling fingertips. Her breath hitched, and tears spilled down her cheeks, warm and unrelenting, carving salty trails through the dust of sleepless nights. The weight of the moment pressed deep in her chest, heavy and aching. Naruto didn't turn back, not once. The steady rhythm of his footsteps faded into the distance, carrying with them the echo of a promise and the silence of goodbye. She whispered to the empty room, voice barely audible over the soft rustle of leaves outside. "Well, goodbye for a while... Team 7."

The next day dawned harsh and unforgiving, but Sakura? She was done messing around, strictly focused on training and striving for nothing less than perfection. Tsunade's expression was colder now, eyes sharp as daggers. "Healing isn't a luxury, Sakura. It's a necessity. You need to push yourself beyond your limits if you want to survive." Without hesitation, she launched a barrage of blows, fast, powerful, unrelenting. Each strike landed with bone-crushing force. Sakura's body took blow after blow, fractures splintering beneath her skin, muscles screaming in protest. Pain exploded through her veins, but the only option was to keep standing.

"You heal yourself," Tsunade barked after a particularly brutal strike snapped Sakura's ribs. "Now. Don't waste chakra. Be precise. Be fast." Gritting her teeth, Sakura called on the medical ninjutsu Tsunade had drilled into her. Her hands glowed faintly as she channeled chakra into her broken bones, knitting them back together again. The pain dulled but never vanished, her body was raw, trembling from the effort.

"Again," Tsunade commanded, stepping forward with a glare that brooked no argument. "And this time, don't just heal. Learn to anticipate. Dodge. Control." Sakura staggered but nodded, her muscles trembling, sweat mixing with tears. Tsunade was relentless, a storm of judgment and challenge. Every time Sakura fell, she forced her back up, demanding more. Hours passed with no mercy, no pause. Each fracture, each repair, honed Sakura's resolve and chakra control to a razor's edge. Her body grew tougher, but the cost was clear, she was breaking herself apart to build herself stronger. Finally, Tsunade stopped, eyes narrowing. "Pain is temporary. Strength is permanent. If you want to save lives, including your own, you have to be willing to hurt for it."

Sakura swallowed, breath ragged but burning with fierce determination. "I'm ready for whatever comes next."

The courtyard was quiet for once. Not from peace, but from respect. The air seemed to part around them as Tsunade stood with her arms folded, watching Sakura dodge, not flinch, not block, dodge every strike. Her breathing was measured. Her chakra flowed with precision. Sweat shone on her brow, but not from struggle. It had taken days. Broken bones. Bruised organs. A relentless cycle of destruction and regeneration. But at last, Tsunade lowered her hands and gave the faintest nod of approval. "That's enough." Sakura, still crouched low from her last evasive maneuver, looked up. Her hair clung to her face, her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, but her eyes were sharp. Alert. Present. Tsunade stepped forward, resting her fists on her hips. "You've proven you can survive the battlefield. Now it's time to show me you can transcend it." She reached out and tapped the center of Sakura's forehead.

"The Creation Rebirth," Tsunade began, "was invented by me with one resolution, to protect the lives of my comrades. By releasing a massive amount of chakra at once, the body's cell division is forcibly stimulated. When tissues are damaged or organs destroyed, injuries instantly heal,no matter how severe. So long as Creation Rebirth remains active, the user cannot die. It's known as the pinnacle of medical ninjutsu, the ultimate regeneration technique." Sakura's breath caught, imagining such power. "But," Tsunade warned, "Creation Rebirth doesn't repair old cells; it accelerates the creation of new ones through division. Because cells can only split a limited number of times, each use shortens your natural lifespan. It's a terrible price, but one worth paying to save those you care for." Sakura's eyes hardened, willing herself to one day bear such a burden. Tsunade then spoke of the Strength of a Hundred Seal. "This jutsu dates back to the Sage of Six Paths era and demands extraordinary chakra control. By storing vast chakra over time in a specific point, usually the forehead, the user forms this seal, which appears as a rhombus-like marking. This stored chakra allows techniques to be performed without wasted energy." She traced the violet shape on her forehead. "When released, the seal spreads across the face or the entire body, amplifying the power of every technique used. Remarkably, the seal remains permanently at the center of the forehead, continuing to provide its benefits." Sakura listened intently. "The seal is also symbiotically linked to the summon Katsuyu, enabling large-scale healing or long-distance communication with the slug. The strength of Katsuyu's techniques depends directly on the reserves stored in the seal." Tsunade's eyes softened. "Sakura, mastering this seal and Creation Rebirth is the path to surpassing me. It will take years, but with your talent and resolve, I believe you can reach it."

Sakura's lips curled into a small, confident smile. "I will do whatever it takes to protect my friends."

"You're ready to begin the process of forming the Byakugō no In. The Strength of a Hundred." Sakura blinked, stunned for only a moment before Tsunade continued, her tone instructional now, this was no ceremony. This was knowledge meant to be passed down. "The seal is made by storing chakra into a single point on your body, traditionally the forehead, for months, sometimes years. That chakra must not be touched. Not for healing. Not for fighting. Not even for breathing wrong. It's a slow, exact process. Meditation is required, deep focus. Control beyond control." Tsunade's voice softened just slightly. "But while doing so you will be unfit for missions, surgeries as a medical-nin, and be weaker than usual"

Sakura nodded, but her gaze had drifted, not from distraction, but from thought. Something in her eyes shifted. A hesitation born not of doubt, but of a storm waiting behind her tongue. "...Tsunade-shishō?" The older woman's brow lifted. "There's something I haven't told you. About why my chakra is changing. Why I can already do things I wasn't supposed to be capable of yet."

Tsunade's face tightened slightly. She didn't move, but her presence sharpened. "...Go on."

Sakura inhaled slowly and closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were steadier. "It started in the Forest of Death. Something... awakened in me. Something old. I didn't understand it at first, but it wasn't just adrenaline or instinct." She touched her chest lightly. "I heard a voice. Not like genjutsu. Not like madness. Her name is Sekhmet." She hesitated, but Tsunade didn't interrupt. So Sakura continued. "She was once a goddess. A healer. A warrior. She fought before the era of shinobi, before the modern chakra systems we know. She gave her life to heal a dying Earth after Kaguya's rampage. Before she died, she sealed her soul inside a weapon, an axe called Astra. And that weapon found me."

Tsunade's eyes narrowed. "You're saying you're possessed."

Sakura shook her head. "No. I'm her reincarnation. Or... something like it. She doesn't control me. She's guiding me. Teaching me in my dreams. Teaching me how to wield goddess chakra. It's different from the chakra you and I know. It comes from memory, from soul, not just the tenketsu system." She exhaled. "It's how I was able to already match chakra output on a cellular level. She's helping me, teaching me which texts to read, but I've kept it quiet because I needed to understand it first."

Tsunade's jaw flexed. "And this Sekhmet, she's in you now?"

Sakura raised her hand. "I can show you." Golden-pink light shimmered into the air, and the temperature of the room seemed to shift, not rising, but refining, as if everything suddenly held greater clarity. Light bent gently into patterns of rose and gold, and from behind Sakura, a figure slowly formed. Sekhmet emerged from her, translucent but visible, tall and radiant, like a goddess made from memory and chakra. Her hair flowed in ethereal waves of rose, and her green eyes matched Sakura's, only older. Wiser. Her robes shimmered like starlight reflected on glass, her expression both gentle and piercing. A warrior's grace paired with a healer's calm. Tsunade moved instinctively, one foot sliding back into a stance, chakra gathering on reflex.

"I mean no harm," Sekhmet said, her voice both powerful and tranquil. "I am Sekhmet. The girl you trained, Sakura Haruno, is the continuation of what I once was. And perhaps more than I could ever be."

Sakura turned slightly. "She's been with me since the Forest. I've trained every night in her Realm of Awakening, while studying every day."

Tsunade didn't relax entirely, but she did straighten, her eyes scanning Sekhmet like a medic analyzing a complex diagnosis. "You're a chakra entity."

"A soul given structure," Sekhmet confirmed. "Born of ancient sacrifice. Bound to Astra until one worthy could wield it. She has not learned these gifts unnaturally. She remembers them and builds on them instead of only inheriting."

Tsunade's gaze shifted back to Sakura. "And you still want to follow the medical path. The seal. My path."

Sakura's voice didn't waver. "I want to earn everything. I don't want to leap ahead. I want to be worthy of what she gave me, and of what you've taught me."

Tsunade was quiet for a long moment. Then: "What's your goal, Sakura?"

Sakura stood slowly, the light of Sekhmet still soft behind her. "To heal what's been broken. To protect those who still suffer. To end cycles that destroy more than they ever build. I want to be strong enough to stop wars before they begin, and heal the damage when they can't be avoided. Whether it's chakra, goddess chakra, or sheer will, I want to use every part of myself to change this world."

Sekhmet looked down at her, pride radiating through her shimmering frame. "She speaks not as a child, but as one reborn."

Tsunade watched her student, then finally, slowly, gave a short nod. "Then we do this right. You will begin the seal, but you will do it under full observation. I'll build your schedule around it. If this Sekhmet is real, she can help you while you train. But no secrets, Sakura. Not anymore."

Sakura smiled, relieved. "No more."

Tsunade turned to Sekhmet. "And you, you don't get to make decisions without her consent. She is not your vessel. She is her own kunoichi."

Sekhmet bowed her head in agreement. "Of course. She is not mine. I am hers." The goddess dissolved slowly into shimmering motes of light, drawn once more into Sakura's chakra. The air settled.

Tsunade turned back to Sakura. "Meditate tonight. Starting tomorrow, your training changes. You'll need to divide your strength wisely. Because sealing chakra means sacrifice. And focus like you've never known."

Sakura nodded firmly. "I'm ready."

Tsunade let the faintest smirk touch her lips. "You'd better be. You've got two generations of monsters watching over you now." And with that, the two women turned to the scrolls on the table, the last glow of the sun catching in Sakura's hair, light not just from the sky, but from within.

That night, she sat on the rooftop beneath a cloudless sky, the village lights flickering below like scattered fireflies. Her hands rested gently in her lap. She didn't enter a trance. She didn't empty her mind. Instead, she invited everything in, every ache in her limbs, every heartbeat echoing with memory, every thread of chakra within her. She drew it upward, willed it to obey. Not all at once. Not with force. But with harmony. The divine chakra Sekhmet had awakened in her pulsed beneath her skin, laced with her own, distinct and ancient, but no longer at odds. She didn't need stillness. She didn't need silence. Her control was so complete, so instinctive, she could live while building the seal. Move. Train. Heal. Go on missions. The beginning of the diamond mark shimmered faintly at the center of her forehead by dawn. A whisper of violet light. But rest wasn't on her mind.

She rose before the sun, the sky still indigo with sleep. Her fingers moved by habit as she wound the medical tape around her wrists, layer after layer tugged taut, each pull grounding her in breath and resolve. Her muscles still thrummed with soreness from Tsunade's last session, her shoulders were tight, and her ribs ached faintly with every inhale, but there was no hesitation in her steps. 'Pain is just memory. Push past it.' She didn't go toward the hospital today. Not toward Tsunade. Not toward peace. Her boots hit the village streets with a steady rhythm, wind threading through her hair, the morning cool against her flushed skin. She ran until she reached the cliffs above the training field.

He was already there. Guy stood tall, silhouetted against the pale fire of dawn. As she approached, he turned without a word, sensing her even before her chakra brushed the edge of his awareness. "Sakura," he greeted, his voice warm but heavy with knowing.

She didn't falter. She skidded to a stop before him and bowed low, her fists clenched tight at her sides. "I'm ready. For the Sixth Gate."

Guy blinked, studying her. "Are you certain?" His tone was not doubting, only reverent. Respectful. Because he felt it too. Her body was no longer that of a girl. Her chakra signature had deepened, sharpened. The divine energy inside her was awake now, coiling with force beneath her skin.

Sakura lifted her head, her eyes unwavering. "Absolutely. No more waiting. No more fear." The words struck Guy to the core. He saw in her not just determination, but evolution. Her stance was coiled with potential, shoulders squared, breath even, pulse steady. She had crossed the invisible threshold where strength and will moved as one.

He exhaled slowly and nodded. "Then today, we open the Gate of View, Keimon. Located here." He pressed his palm to her upper abdomen, just above the navel. "It draws from the stomach, the seat of stamina and will. When it opens... the chakra floods the entire body. So intense it can displace air. Sometimes even part the clouds."

Sakura's breath caught. Her hand hovered above the spot, her fingers trembling slightly. "And... the Morning Peacock?"

Guy's eyes lit with fire. "Yes. The Morning Peacock. When your fists move fast enough, the friction ignites the oxygen itself. Each strike becomes a flare. A blossom of fire. That is the Sixth Gate's gift." He stepped back, motioning to the center of the field. The wind had stilled, the trees silent and waiting. "Sakura," he said gently, "this isn't about forcing it open. You've already proven your strength. Now... trust it. Let Sekhmet's chakra guide you. The goddess within doesn't scream, she remembers. That stillness is your key." Sakura nodded. Her throat tightened around something ancient. She knelt on the dew-wet grass, the coolness seeping through her leggings. 'Let it rise, not rage. Just like she taught me.' Her palm pressed lightly to her stomach, where the chakra pulsed low and deep like an ember waiting to become flame. She could feel the flow now, not in threads, but in rivers. It wasn't harsh, it was sacred. Glowing. Familiar. She inhaled through her nose, slow and deep, and when she exhaled, her mind sank into the current. Her body opened. A beat pulsed through the earth beneath her knees, then another. The air thickened around her like a held breath. And then, boom, a burst of energy cracked the silence.

The Sixth Gate opened. A radiant green aura erupted from her skin like a star being born, but it wasn't just green. Violet threads laced through it, rich and ancient, Sekhmet's goddess chakra braiding through the Eight Gates fury. The grass rippled outward in concentric waves. Far-off trees trembled. Pebbles lifted and spun into the air. Dust scattered in perfect circles from her bare feet. Guy took a step back. "Incredible..." Sakura's eyes opened, and they were glowing. Everything inside her body felt sharpened. Her senses burned with clarity. She could hear the wind before it moved. She could feel the individual fibers of her muscles thrumming with potential. Then she moved. She vanished into motion, a streak of chakra fire tearing across the field. Her fists blurred into light. The air howled as her strikes tore through it. Sparks bloomed from the speed of her punches. Then the friction caught, and the world lit up.

Tiny explosions of flame burst from her fists. They trailed behind her like comet tails. She struck the air again, and again, and again. Flares danced from her knuckles. Flaming fists. Crimson arcs. Scarlet trails. Morning Peacock.

Guy shielded his eyes, stunned silent. "So young... and already able to summon it..." Sakura didn't stop. Her arms ached. Bones cracked under the force. Ligaments tore. Her body screamed, but her chakra moved instantly to heal. Like Tsunade taught her. Like she had practiced night after night until Sekhmet whispered: 'Now, again.' She twisted in mid-air, landed hard, and exhaled through her teeth. Smoke curled from her shoulders. Her aura flickered, still alive, still radiant. Her chest heaved with breath, but she stood steady. The ground beneath her feet was scorched, the air behind her glowing with heat shimmer. Her skin glowed faintly, her blood vessels radiant with chakra light. And on her forehead, the faint shimmer of her seal pulsed, an unfinished blossom still forming. Guy approached slowly, reverent.

She didn't look at him. Her gaze stayed on the horizon. On something beyond. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was low and fierce. "I'm not done yet."

Guy swallowed. "You've done more than enough for today," But Sakura turned to him, the light still dancing in her hair.

"No. You don't understand." Her hands clenched at her sides. "I'm not done growing. I'm not done fighting. I'm not done becoming her. The woman I need to be. The one who won't be left behind." Her eyes shimmered, not with tears, but with fire. "I'm not chasing anyone anymore," she said. "I'm carving my own path. Right here. Right now."

Guy watched her, jaw tight with emotion. For a moment, he said nothing. Then, softly, "Tsunade was right. You're more than a prodigy, Sakura. You're a force."

Sakura bowed her head slightly. In gratitude and in recognition. 'I'm not who I was. I'm becoming who I was always meant to be.' And as the wind finally stirred again, she stood alone in the center of the scorched training field, bruised, radiant, divine.