Night over Sunagakure

***

The world had dimmed.       Primal darkness had swallowed her, enveloping her with a maternal tenderness, like velvet swathing a weary body: broken, burnt, marked by blades and bruises. “Who dared?” The questions echoed, one after another. “Who did this?” Warmth radiated from her heart, spreading through her body to the very tips of her fingers.       “Who… who did this?” The insistent voice was too sharp, too loud. It came from somewhere outside. “Who killed me?”       “Answer, Shikamaru!”       Arori jolted at the sound of her own voice and opened her eyes wide. An unbearably bright light streamed in from the window, making her squint. As she tried to sit up, the pain reminded her that she was still alive. Her muscles were leaden with fatigue and refused to obey. It felt as if Naruto, flailing his arms in the small hospital room, had created a dozen shadow clones and settled them atop her…       “Naruto?”       “Hey, Arori? You’re awake?”       “Don’t be surprised,” Arori grumbled, shielding her eyes with her hand. “Even the dead would wake if you opened the curtains on such a sunny day…”       “So, your vocal cords aren’t damaged, Ari-chan? Hey, don’t close your eyes! First, tell us everything you…”       “Here, take this,” another voice interrupted gently but firmly. Turning, Arori saw Shikamaru, offering her a bowl of medicine. He hadn’t changed; he still wore his grimy gray uniform, stained with blood and ash.       “You haven’t slept at all, have you? Your eyes are red, Shikamaru.”       “Tsunade will be here soon,” he said instead of answering. “Drink.”       “Don’t worry, Ari, we’ll find them,” Naruto interjected. “I promise.” His fingers drummed anxiously on the bed’s headboard. “Come on! Tell me everything you saw.” The medicine smelled of calendula and wormwood. Dried petals swirled slowly to the bottom of the bowl.       “There’s nothing left to find, Naruto. One of them used a fire technique, very powerful… " Arori pulled the blanket up to her chin, “maybe there are kunai or protectors left. They had the symbol of the Sand Village.”       Naruto slammed his fist against his leg in frustration.       “Listen, Ari, I know Gaara. Don’t look at me like that! He couldn’t have given such an order, you understand? It’s a mistake, a trap… anything, dattebayo!”       Arguing with Naruto until the arrival of the Fifth Hokage was pointless. Arori only nodded vaguely and, closing her eyes, gulped down the medicine. The bitterness made her shudder.       “How are you?” Shikamaru asked, thoughtfully observing her discomfort.       “I wasn’t beheaded or burnt alive. Let’s call it a strategic success?”       “Are we really not related? I’m starting to doubt.” Shikamaru raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair.       “Distant relatives, brother,” Arori joked. She bore neither the Nara surname nor their crest; she didn’t even inherit their unruly black hair. What united Arori and Shikamaru was the similarity of their techniques—both used Inton.       In the ANBU, everyone considered her a daughter of the Nara clan, for lack of anyone to dispute it. Even her comrades were not convinced by the fact that Arori’s family was quite ordinary: both her mother and her two sisters got by without chakra. Her father had long since abandoned combat missions due to injuries sustained in his youth.       Rising from his chair, Shikamaru crossed the room and stood by the window. He appeared calm, but his heavy gaze betrayed his fatigue. His unbuttoned vest, covered in brown splatters, lay draped over the chair’s back.       At first, Arori had been sure that he hadn’t panicked when he found her in the scorched clearing: he confidently, with steady fingers, bandaged her shoulder and neck, checked her bones, and hoisted her onto his back. But before losing consciousness, Arori had caught a glimpse of fear in his eyes, a small, tormenting detail that gave her a perverse pleasure.       “Two shinobi were found near Arori,” Shikamaru finally said. “Both dead.”       “There was a third. Something must remain.”       “The medics are collecting bodies piece by piece,” Shikamaru shrugged vaguely. “The third… well, no trace of him yet.”       “I propose a more interesting question,” Arori suddenly brightened. “Commander Nara, what was your team doing on the border with the Land of Rivers? Such a happy coincidence.”       “Ari-chan…” Naruto exhaled tensely. “Think about what’s important…”       “I was patrolling the border and did my duty,” Arori darkened and turned to the wall.       Naruto grabbed her shoulders and forced her to turn back. Over the past year of their acquaintance, Arori had grown accustomed to such outbursts. Of all those Shikamaru had introduced her to after leaving the ANBU, Naruto was the most friendly. Unusually open, warm, radiating kindness, he was the complete opposite of the people Arori was used to working with. His face was an open book: now Naruto’s mouth hung open in confusion, his clear blue eyes wide with astonishment, in a way only he could manage.       “They could have been envoys, Ari!”       “Why would envoys use stealth techniques to cross the border?”       “Maybe someone was chasing them?” Naruto suggested. “We need to ask Gaara. The sooner Tsunade lets me go, the sooner I’ll find out.”       “Other than those three, I sensed no foreign chakra. I wouldn’t mistake it at night.”       Arori didn’t have to lie: the night before, only three strangers had crossed the border. However, after dealing with them, she quickly sensed Shikamaru and his team’s approach. Whether by chance or assignment, Arori was lucky they were close to the battlefield.       “Gaara is not well-liked in Suna,” Shikamaru said, speaking to no one in particular. He no longer looked detached—something had clicked, a decision made. Naruto frowned, ready to argue, but the door opened, and a pink-haired girl in standard medical ninja attire entered the room.       “Greetings to the shadow technique enthusiasts! Tsuna…”       Sakura stopped short. Directly in front of her, Naruto, having climbed onto the windowsill, tried to open the window instead of greeting her. She angrily grabbed him by the ear, ready to wipe his face with the marks on the white windowsill, when the Fifth Hokage burst into the room like a whirlwind. Behind her, Shizune stood on the threshold, carefully closing the door. In her arms, a small pig snorted anxiously.       “Report here, Arori,” Tsunade commanded without preamble. Her voice, as always, was loud and authoritative. “There’s no time to drag this to the residence.”       “Yes, Lady Tsunade.”       Under the Fifth’s piercing gaze, Arori threw back the blanket and stood up. A dull pain in her neck reminded her of the battle: she had managed to turn her body into shadow before the katana struck deeply, but the blade had still grazed her.       “Three. I suspect a jounin and two chuunin. Engaged at the fifth kilometer of the border with the Land of Rivers, near the source of the Great Spring,” Arori reported, standing straight. “They used concealment techniques twice: when crossing the border and when I approached. I remind you that this technique is forbidden in the Land of Fire for representatives of allied…”       Tsunade impatiently waved her hand.       “I know. Continue.”       “Judging by fragments of their conversation and their route, their goal was to infiltrate Konoha and sow panic. To carry out a massacre at the residence.”       Arori glanced at Shikamaru. He was sitting with his fingers interlaced, as he always did when deep in thought.       “Were there unusual scrolls with them? Perhaps letters? Weapons?” Tsunade fired question after question, pacing the room. “Strange curved swords?”       “No,” Arori shook her head. Her throat ached from talking—the hot air must have damaged her airways. “Just Suna uniforms. One of them, the jounin, used a secret technique of the Yoshimura clan. That might help with identification.”       “Lady Tsunade, let me go to Suna,” Naruto blurted out. “I know Gaara. He… he wouldn’t give such an order! He couldn’t… You understand that!” The Fifth threw him an irritated glance, biting her thumbnail.       “Arori, did they try to make contact?”       “On the contrary, Lady Tsunade. They resisted.”       “So they resisted?” the Hokage repeated grimly. “Arori, did you attempt to establish contact?”       “I…”       “Did you identify yourself before attacking them? Did you try to take them alive?”       “Lady Tsunade, they entered the territory using a forbidden technique. All I could hear was 'Suna depends on us.'”       “Damn it!” Tsunade slammed her hand on the bedside table, causing the jars to jump and rattle, and pills clattered as they scattered. Some fell off the table and rolled under the bed.       “The other said, 'Do it at any cost'…”       “And you thought that was enough to kill three shinobi from an allied village?”       “How do you know they were really from Suna?!” Naruto exploded.       “Lady Tsunade, they fought to the death. My techniques are almost ineffective against fire. Their lives against our shinobi’s lives…”       “Enough,” the Hokage lost her patience. “You were sent to patrol the Land of Rivers, what could be easier?! Do you even realize this puts us on the brink of war?”       Arori involuntarily rubbed her neck. “Just don’t leave a scar,” she thought absently.       “Shizune,” the Fifth called, “name the available shinobi.”       “That’s me!” Naruto immediately volunteered.       The assistant tightened her grip on the grunting Tonton.       “Gai and Tenten…”       “I’m free, dattebayo!”       ”…Rock Lee?”       “Look at me! Lady Tsunade!”       “Out of my sight. Shizune, continue!”       “Only genin left, some from ANBU… Neji is due back tomorrow. Hmm, Sai?”       “I have no missions, Lady Hokage.” Everyone turned their heads towards Shikamaru. Arori and Sakura exchanged meaningful glances. Shikamaru’s personal interest in Sunagakure was no longer a secret.       Tsunade crossed her arms. She had already made up her mind.       “We don’t have two days, nor a day, nor even a minute. We can’t wait that long. Shikamaru, Naruto, you are going to Sunagakure. Be polite, but stay vigilant. Observe everything. Shizune, where are the analysis results?”       After quickly leafing through the medical reports, the Hokage clicked her tongue in displeasure.       “Arori, learn to conserve your chakra. And naturally, you’re going with them… Some might not like it, but I forbid—hear me? —absolutely forbid you from engaging in combat. Your task is to speak with the Kazekage as soon as possible. You must find out what is happening there and, more importantly, how it affects Konoha.” With that, the Fifth headed for the door. “The report might be intercepted, so report back personally upon return. Shikamaru, you are the commander. I am counting on you.”       “Yes.”       Shizune opened the door, letting the Hokage out. Tonton let out a long grunt as she passed by and, escaping the assistant’s arms, hurried after the Fifth.       “Goodbye, Shizune-san.”       As soon as they left, Shikamaru closed his eyes and intertwined his fingers again, as if he hadn’t just volunteered for the mission moments ago.       “And why didn’t Lady Hokage send me with you?” Sakura twirled a pink lock thoughtfully. Suddenly she noticed what the unusually quiet Naruto was doing and exploded with curses:       “What’s a door for, Uzumaki?! What kind of idiotic habit is it to jump out the window and leave dirt on the sill?!” the enraged kunoichi shouted after him. “You don’t have to come back!”       “I should go too, Sakura. Thanks for the neat stitches,” Arori waved as she left the room.       Shikamaru, grabbing his soiled vest, followed her out.       “At the main gate in an hour and a half.”       “Wait, Shikamaru,” Arori tugged at his sleeve, whispering. “Your mission in the Land of Rivers…”       “One of many boring missions,” he drawled wearily, “that had every chance of ending peacefully.”       Not hoping to learn more details, Arori let him go. “Thank you,” she called after him. He waved without turning and soon disappeared around the corner.       Standing in line for her belongings, Arori couldn’t shake off a vague sense of unease. Provocations and incidents were nothing new in the shinobi world: both villages and state leaders used them unabashedly as pretexts for war or new alliances. A few lives could easily buy influence for an ambitious advisor or win the daimyo’s support. No, it wasn’t about the death, not at all about the bodies lying under the quiet canopies, torn and nameless. Had Arori hesitated for a moment, she would have been the one bleeding and burning alive in the sleepy night forest. Such was the price of power: today it would leave a scar on her neck, and tomorrow it would take her head.       And yet, Arori’s thoughts inevitably returned to the gleaming protectors of Sunagakure in the twilight, to the strange, suicidal mission of three shinobi, but most of all—to the young Kazekage, whose name Naruto defended so fiercely… Finally, her turn came, and in the low window of the laundry appeared a plump bundle with a tag. Clearly written on it was the name:       “Arori Mochizuki.”