Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1 — SNOW AND SHADOWS

SUMMER SNOW fell endlessly.

Hyūga Hanabi frowned as she glanced up at the night sky, her feet stepping over the powder smoothly, never leaving a trace.

The Snow Step, of course, was a necessity for any shinobi, times being as they were.

The wind was howling through the trees, and aside from its strident sound, it was yet another quiet night — and how she hated nights like these.

Neji, who she could see clearly in her Byakugan's range, didn't care for them either. Then again, there wasn't much he didn't seem to carry an unspoken dislike for, these days. He was younger than her by four years, five years younger than Hinata, but he talked like an old man already.

All three of them had spent most of their lives in times when the sky hadn't been so inky, when strange, chimeric creatures didn't roam with a hunger sharpened by the cold, when whimsical spirits didn't weave through the skeletal forests.

When a heavy, forlorn silence didn't blanket the land, with only whistling winds that carried the biting cold to disturb it.

This white, desolate expanse that hid both predator and prey was a world enshrouded in snow. Above this frostbitten landscape, fractured arches shimmered in the sky like broken mirrors, and they lit up the dark.

It was not a world for the weak: power, of course, was its main currency, and so it was that strong shinobi who reigned supreme.

They could scour the land, claim what resources remained, and enforce the brutal truth of this new era.

It was the sort of crucible that forged men, women of steel from the spirits of the fallen, a place where the weak were sifted from the earth like chaff in the wind.

It was on that night that Hanabi and Neji met the man with hair like a flame.

Hanabi would have liked to say she kept a tight lid on her fatigue, but that simply wouldn't be the truth. Exhaustion clung to her like a second skin.

She saw the smoke of chimneys in the far distance as the water that had breached her snow shoes finally reached her feet and she decided she had enough.

She didn't whine. That would make her seem childish to Neji, who still needed, perhaps more now than ever, a good role model. He simply slowed down as she did, coming to meet her atop a frost-tipped peak.

His pale eyes, a shade bluer than Hanabi's lilac gaze — a detail only discernible to the Hyūga — awaited her command. As though she still decided things for him.

The wind swirled between them, as frigid and desolate as any other night. Hanabi drew a resigned breath and shrugged.

"We are stopping for the night." Her voice carried an unintended command, and she silently reprimanded herself for it. "Let's find shelter."

"It seems our best option." Neji gave a slow nod, motioning toward the distance with his chin. "This hamlet?"

"Unless you truly feel like a cave is preferable." Hanabi said wryly.

"I don't." Neji said, with a slight smile. "Rest your eyes, I will lead us there."

"Thank you, Neji."

It was a perfect night not to get torn apart by roaming spirits or ex-soldiers, and Hanabi fell back on her trusty companion. Whose eyes could see slightly further than her own, although he didn't quite believe it.

They walked. Three days ago, Neji had limped, but three days were a long time to waste with such things as recovering from injury. If they had been on less snowy land, perhaps she would have searched for a horse to carry him — and paid the ludicrous sum that they commanded in these parts of the world.

Here, in the mountains, it was asking for the wrong sort of attention. After one more hour of tumbling in near darkness, broken only by Neji's Byakugan, waning orange light became visible to even Hanabi's regular sight.

Neji's body stiffened. "I see someone ahead." He murmured, a note of caution in his voice. "He might match the person we're looking for."

Hanabi turned sharply, with something hopeful and tentative in her eyes. "Really?" She asked, then paused, noting the tension in his posture. "…What is it, Neji?"

"He doesn't bear the marks of a shinobi. His chakra is weak." Neji replied, his words clipped. "It seems we might have been misled."

A flicker of disappointment passed through Hanabi, but her resolve remained firm. "Regardless." She asserted. "We need to rest. Let's go."

Neji simply nodded — it was just another cause for disappointment.

The two left the road, walking through tall birch trees toward the light. As they came close, the smell of woodsmoke finally became clear to their noses.

Their ears had already caught the sounds of metal hitting wood, by then, of course.

As they emerged into the light, the figure responsible for the sound paused, his eyes meeting theirs with wariness. He seemed older, in his forties or so, and wore a heavy cloak on his shoulders.

Hanabi took the lead. She raised both hands. "We seek shelter. Not conflict."

"Shinobi, wandering these parts at night?" The man's voice was rough, more than either of them had expected, as though he didn't speak often. "Have you no common sense?"

Neji made a derisive noise that wasn't even half as veiled as he probably thought it was. "We could ask the same of you."

There was something that couldn't be called a smile, not truly, stretching upon the man's lips. "I am where I belong — and I'm not the one following smoke trails to nowhere."

"Be that as it may." Hanabi interjected, her voice a blend of weariness and firmness. "But I have seen you take notice of our eyes. You know who we are, what we can do. Any threat, we can see."

"And you see none here." The man said noncommittally. "I have heard of your clan."

"Many have." Neji said, equally neutral.

"Tell me what you want, then." The stranger said.

"It is as we said." Hanabi nodded slightly. "We would offer gold for a night's respite in your village."

The man's breath misted in the air as he considered them.

"It would be pretty rude of me to ignore strangers, wouldn't it?" He finally asked. "Shinobi, nonetheless."

His words weren't veiled at all.

"We won't try to take anything by force, no matter your answer." Hanabi said, tensing slightly.

"Oh?" The man appeared perplexed. "Truly? I suppose there's little I could do to prevent it, regardless."

Neji's expression tightened some. Hanabi motioned for him not to intervene.

The stranger sighed, looking into the distance briefly, as though the snow held some semblance of an answer. Ridiculous as it might have been, he seemed to find one.

"Well, calling it a village would be a bit of a disservice, but fine." He gave them a long look. "Come with me, then."

The other man was right, which meant that Neji had been, too — this was a hamlet. There were only a few dozen more people scattered through the wooden cabins, and all of them were sleeping.

"People come and go." The stranger said, before scratching his chin in thought. "Well, they mostly go."

Neji thought it was no wonder, but he knew better than to voice it out. Hanabi glanced at him anyway, as though he had not learned to behave yet.

"What is this place?" She asked.

The stranger gave her a long look, and he let out a mirthless smile. "Please don't take me for a fool." He said. "No one comes here by accident."

There was a new, different tenseness; one that hadn't been here before, even as they had walked in silence. Neji's hand twitched slightly, the tiniest touch of chakra gathering around his fingertips.

"You must have heard the rumors in Shinrin Yama." The man continued. "I know you're going to deny it, of course…"

Hanabi held a hand up, and he went quiet. "It is as you say. We have heard the rumors there, and we hoped there was some truth to it. Though I never expected that we would encounter the very subject of those rumors here, in such an unlikely setting."

"I see." The man said, and gave no intention of saying more.

"May we speak of them?" Hanabi asked, glancing at his hair.

"By all means."

Neji was getting frustrated, and he thought it was probably clear to Hanabi in the slight tensing of his jaw.

"Good." She said. "Are you aware of what the rumors say?"

"I am." The man nodded.

"Are you who they say you are?" Hanabi asked. "Or is it just coincidence?"

The man simply smiled before looking away and resuming his walk, and Neji decided here and then he had had enough.

"Your name, before we take any further step." Neji said. "Out with it."

"Neji." Hanabi said warningly.

"I am Uzumaki." The man said, expressionless. "And I think this answers your question—"

"It doesn't." Neji's retort was brisk and biting. "You are clearly no shinobi." He then glanced at the man's right side. "And the rumors are incorrect, you are not Uzumaki Gojō — not just because he should be much younger. Now, do you know his whereabouts, or anything of value at all? I would prefer to sleep in the frost than endure further time wasted—"

"Neji!" There was something hard in Hanabi's voice, and her eyes were equally so. "Do not forget our position — we are merely visitors here." She said firmly.

Neji bristled. As if I could ever forget my place.

"…Gojō?" The name seemed to stir something within the man.

He looked at them, and for a second, Neji could see past the apathy on the surface of his eyes. For a moment, he could see the anger underneath, something that still felt raw.

"And visitors, you say…?" The stranger asked, with an edge. "I am reconsidering, as of now. You're Hyūga, far from your domain. Seeking an Uzumaki, are you? No, I think you are omitting a few things, here."

No one spoke for a long, tense moment, something taut as a bowstring.

"…You're right." Hanabi said at last, eyes slightly narrowed. "We were looking for one of your clan members. Gojō — or any master Sealweaver, to be truthful."

Uzumaki didn't speak, still.

Hanabi refused to back down. With a resolve as firm as steel, she held Uzumaki's gaze, and she waited. "Are you one?"

Beside her, Neji's tension felt palpable, impatience and worry brewing in him. Hanabi waited for Uzumaki to answer, and no one spoke.

Uzumaki, however, offered nothing but a nonchalant shrug, his eyes reflecting a nostalgia for a past — or a self — long gone. "…I was never deemed a true one."

Neji's already frayed patience shattered like fragile glass.

"Enough." His voice emerged as a growl, a thing forced out of clenched teeth. "It has been a long day, and my tolerance for riddles has worn thin. Speak clearly."

The air hung heavy with unspoken words and lingering doubts; mutual suspicions.

"Who — are — you?" Neji pierced the silence, with a voice as tight as a drawn bow.

The ashes of what might once have been a confident grin gathered upon the other man's face. "Who am I?" He asked, with easy bravado. "Just who the hell do you think—"

And then his smile faltered, fading away.

He turned his head to look at Hanabi, then at Neji, almost as if he were surprised to see them there. He inhaled softly, a breath so slight, so fragile that Neji almost missed it. But its presence was unmistakable.

Then, unexpectedly, Uzumaki laughed.

It wasn't a laugh of joy; it was why Neji's anger dimmed like a snuffed candle. It was a laugh of resignation, of surrender, as though Uzumaki was in on some joke they couldn't understand. It was a hollow sound, full of self-depreciation.

"Ah, well. I guess I'm nothing at all."

In spite of the tense meeting, Uzumaki beckoned Neji and Hanabi into his cabin.

The world outside was still and silent, with no one else awake to witness their arrival. The man suggested it was their best option for the night. Drained and without the energy to disagree, they followed him, carefully checking for any potential pitfalls; traps and escape routes alike.

They navigated the pristine snow, a white blanket smoothing over the path they trod. By dawn, it would be cleared, just as it likely was every morning.

Neji observed Uzumaki's peculiar manner as they walked: he kept his gaze firmly level, never bothering to glance at the ground nor the sky.

Before they fully realized it, they found themselves seated around his table, the awkward silence of their arrival lingering on.

"Welcome to Komorebi Mura." Uzumaki said, with a hollow sort of grandeur, motioning at nothing in particular. "Home to nearly no one, and remembered by few. I have no high hopes you will enjoy your stay in my spare room."

Hanabi's eyes were fixed on him intently. Neji knew all too well most would cower in front of such a look. "That such a hamlet possesses formidable barriers must mean something, surely."

The man shrugged nonchalantly. "I may not be a Sealweaver, but I've heard enough of my relatives babble about Fūinjutsu, seals and other jutsu shiki things that I do consider myself theoretically adept, if not adept at theory."

The joke fell flat, and Neji's face likely showed it.

Hanabi quietly excused herself to arrange their belongings in the modest room they'd been allocated, and the atmosphere grew heavier with her departure.

"I find this all hard to believe." Neji finally responded, his voice carrying a pointed edge. "Your words, that is."

"Oh?" The man asked, nodding toward Neji's forehead. "You must have high standards then, in spite of your situation — considering what I assume you came here for."

Neji's lips tightened. "That is not that difficult of a guess." He said darkly. "And I'll admit to it: my understanding of the art is fragmented."

For obvious reasons — the Hyūga Main House never cared for anyone learning Fūinjutsu outside of a very controlled environment.

"Is there anything you can tell me at all?" Neji finished.

"Yes — I've heard of it." The man said, scratching his chin. "The Bird-Cage Cursed Seal, right?"

"Caged Bird Seal." Neji said tightly. "If you can't even—"

Uzumaki interrupted him. "I think it's a curse mark, not a simple seal. I could be wrong, though, of course."

You don't seem to believe you could.

Neji gave him an appraising look. "What's the difference?"

"Well, that means we're talking Juinjutsu, not Fūinjutsu — they are the ones with a variety of different effects. Fūinjutsu is closer to storage, although that's... a bit reductive." Uzumaki blinked. "Ah, sorry, that's just being anal-retentive—"

"You are Uzumaki." Neji interrupted, as politely as he could be in such circumstances. "And that is helpful, I suppose. Do you know anyone who might be of help, or do you not?"

"I might know of someone, depending." Uzumaki said, noncommitally. "The seal in question, it's of a recent design, isn't it?"

"It's not." Neji said curtly.

The man shrugged. "Well, modern was a bit too broad, I suppose—"

"There is definite proof of its continued existence. You're not suggesting that the traditions of our ancestors are open to interpretation, are you?" Neji countered.

"Of course not." The man said with a flat smile. "You're right. Such things have always been the way they are now, and if anyone thinks they haven't, then I suppose they are simply deluding themselves."

Neji's eyes tightened at the perceived sarcasm. "Do you think I will take this sort of insult from anyone? You say you might be of some help, but your cryptic games—"

"…Sorry." The man raised his left hand. "I did not mean to offend you. I have a tendency to speak before thinking."

Neji still bristled, but was willing to let it go. "Please, mind your words next time. This is no laughing matter to me."

"Of course not. I understand that." Uzumaki agreed with a solemn nod. A brief pause followed before he added. "Ah. Where are my manners…? I forgot to introduce myself. You can call me Sanjo."

Neji nodded. "Hyūga — Hyūga Neji."

"Nice to meet you, Neji."

"…Likewise."

Hanabi came down the stairs to the living room.

She sat down at the table and tried to keep her weary eyes from closing.

An innocent silence had gathered around the two men that she had been worried would end up getting into an argument that would result in both Neji and her getting thrown out.

Neji could be patient, of course, and he was no fool. But a few things could unnerve him. The Caged Bird seal was one of them. And considering they had come for this very same matter…

Anyone would feel the same, she knew — Neji was a sweet young man, in spite of his harsh upbringing. Hearts could change, of course, but Hanabi could say with confidence that she knew his.

Which was something she could not say of Uzumaki, however.

He was an unknown, and the fact that there were no traps she could see in his home — none that used chakra, none that didn't — did not assuage her mind. Not entirely.

Uchiha, she knew well enough to dislike. Uzumaki, on the other hand…

Oh, there were plenty of old fears about their mysterious clan spread around, but just because no one could disprove them didn't make them any more real. The same way Hyūga weren't able to see through one's soul, discerning thoughts and intentions with just a glance.

Body language reading was among their specialties, however.

Hanabi breathed in again, slowly, at around the same time Uzumaki stopped slouching on the table. Only to proceed to doodle around with an ink pen.

He gave a sigh that hovered between resignation and weariness, decided he did not like the end result, crumpled the sheet he was drawing on in a ball that he threw away.

"Fine." Uzumaki said. "I will help you…" He trailed off.

Hanabi blinked, and she was pretty sure Neji stopped breathing. "You will? I—"

"Your name." He said, eyes falling back on his new paper as he began drawing again. "That's what I paused for. Call me Sanjo. What is your name?"

Something to call him by, then, but not necessarily his true name.

"Hanabi." She said, deciding this was enough for now. "And I believe you already know my clan name."

Uzumaki stopped in the middle of his drawing. There was something strange in the man's eyes. "Ah. Hyūga Hanabi, then…?" He nodded to himself. "…It's a nice name."

Neji seemed relatively unimpressed again, and Hanabi relaxed slightly.

"You would help us, then?" She said. "I am glad to hear it. Name your price and we will try to strike a bargain—"

Uzumaki Sanjo raised a hand. "I don't want any of your gold for that."

Perhaps he had meant for them to be slightly awed by his generosity, perhaps he hadn't.

What Uzumaki got from them instead were twin looks, full of suspicion.

"Why?" Neji asked, staring at the man on the other side of the table.

"Why what?" Uzumaki asked, stopping his drawing once more. "…Are you complaining, really?"

"I just don't believe it, that's all." Neji said.

Hanabi said nothing. Because she felt the same way — and Neji speaking freely meant she remained free to act as the more coolheaded party.

"Hair of the gods." Uzumaki breathed out irritably, and his half-smile slowly faded. "You people are seeing shadows inside shadows."

"I know you're going to deny it." Neji said, his expression becoming tenser by the second. "But I'm starting to think some of the rumors are true—"

Uzumaki held up a hand. "Perhaps you should think twice about that sentence."

"Or what?" Neji asked angrily. He raised a hand, pointing at something all three of them were all too aware of. "The people down there say that all of this mess has to do with Uzu—"

Hanabi decided to step in.

She didn't have to. For a moment, Uzumaki's eyes seemed to flash with something terrible enough to make Neji reconsider.

"Please, Hyūga-san." He said. "Do not speak of things you only half-understand."

Neji reconsidered. His eyes became cold, and sharp too. "Do not presume—"

"Neji." Hanabi's voice was just as cool.

Neji looked deep into her eyes, his own narrowed in irritation. And more than a fair hint of defiance touched his expression. After a long, tense while, he dropped his gaze.

"Apologies." Neji said quietly, to Uzumaki.

The man's eyes were still clouded, but he only waved his hand sharply. "It's fine."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Before the silence could truly began to crystallize, Hanabi spoke.

"Although his words were spoken hastily…" Hanabi's eyes were slightly narrowed. "He raised a decent point — No one works for free. And why would they?"

Uzumaki managed to look both annoyed and puzzled. "…Who said I would work for free?"

Hanabi blinked.

"No." Uzumaki shook his head. "I will ask something of you — a service, I suppose."

That will depend on what you ask.

"Besides…" The man said, dragging a hand through his hair wearily. "If I have the power to help and choose not to act…" He said, staring into the distance, and the memory of the words seemed to cast a long shadow on his face. "If I do nothing with it, what does that make me?"

Though they heard the words, neither Hanabi nor Neji answered them. This wasn't about them, not really.

None of them spoke for a long while, in fact. The only sound in the small fire-lit cabin was the rhythmic drumming of the man's fingers on the table.

"…Name your terms." Hanabi finally said. "And we will decide."

"It won't be much, and will cost you only your time." Uzumaki said. And then, he glanced at Hanabi. "I'm going to need you to write a few things down for me."

…What?

Some of her incomprehension must have shown on her face, because the man barked a short laugh.

"They say that each person's script bears the invisible signature of their soul." Uzumaki said offhandedly. "That's how the quote goes, at least."

Hanabi paused. "Who does they refer to?"

Uzumaki smiled. "Do you care?" She didn't, and he nodded. "Would you be able to recognize your own handwriting?"

Even the Uchiha can.

Neji scoffed before she could. "Even without our eyes' ability, either of us could tell whether a penned letter was hers, mine… or not."

"Anyone can claim that." Uzumaki's eyes were steely, and set into Neji's. "Would you be able to tell, with absolute certainty, whether something you wrote was yours? Truly yours?"

Neji paused, thrown off his stride. "…Yes."

Hanabi nodded, too. "There are ways for us to check." She said, pointing at her eyes. "Clan secrets, I'm afraid."

Rather than seeming offended, as some may have been, Uzumaki seemed to relax. Then again, he too hailed from a clan, although he didn't seem to have been trained in the shinobi arts. He took a deep breath. "…Good."

"What is this about?" Hanabi asked, watching him intently.

"You couldn't possibly believe me if I told you right now." He waved a hand disarmingly when Neji's expression tightened. "This will only come into play later, I'm afraid. I will require you to note down a few things." He said, smiling thinly. "Nothing credible, of course. Mere fiction."

Neji watched him as well. He truly didn't seem to think much of the man's casual demeanor. Yet, he kept the words that were apparently burning on his tongue to himself.

"That is my only request." Uzumaki said. "That you listen to my story, from start to end. And write down the things I tell you to when I tell you to."

"I am no scribe." Hanabi said, eyes narrowing slightly. "And neither is Neji."

Uzumaki smiled to himself. "And I do not need you to be for this."

Neji glanced at Hanabi, and then nodded to the other man. Slowly, solemnly. "…If that is your price for telling us, then I am willing to listen."

"And what about you, Hyūga-san?" Uzumaki asked, leaning forward.

She stared back, before shaking her head. "…Hanabi is fine. How long would it take?"

Uzumaki smiled, and it seemed a bit more real this time. "A few days, at most — Yes, that is a little while, I'm afraid. Are you in a rush?"

"No." Hanabi sighed, as though freeing herself from some dark thought. "…No, I suppose not."

Neji turned to her, wary hope clear in his eyes. "Hanabi?"

She nodded, and a decision was taken. "If you can truly help us find an Uzumaki Sealweaver, we will listen to your tale."

Uzumaki remained silent for a brief spell. Then, he began to chuckle, a soft murmur that gradually grew in volume. This time too, it carried no joy.

Neji stared at the red-haired man, growing more irritated the more it went. Hanabi, on the other hand, was beginning to fear for Uzumaki's sanity. She motioned for Neji not to do anything rash. The words escaped him anyway. "If you believe that any of this is a laughing matter—"

The man held his hand up in the air. "Forgive me." He said, letting the smile fall. "It's only that with your eyes… No, I suppose it's a good thing." He shook his head, and there an expression halfway between disappointment and reluctant pride. "I thought it was an act you were putting on for me, that's all."

"…An act?" Hanabi felt puzzled — and on guard, too. "What do you mean?"

Uzumaki didn't answer. "May I take a look at your mark first, Neji…?"

Neji's jaws tightened.

Uzumaki gave him a wry look. "You and I both know that if there was anything I could do to you using it, I wouldn't need to come any closer."

There was a placid expression on Neji's face, and it seemed more mask-like than it had been in a long, long while. Underneath it, there was nothing but resignation.

Hanabi, unsurprised, watched as he undid his headband and let it fall.

Uzumaki stood up and drew closer, unnaturally quiet. There was an eerie silence to the room, only broken by the sounds of three people breathing in the same claustrophobic air.

The stranger's left hand was upon Neji's forehead in the next moment.

The two Hyūga moved right away, chakra gathered, coiling and ready to be used. Hanabi growled. "Step away this very instant, before I strike your heart. That was not—"

Uzumaki didn't budge. "Please, stay still." He said. "This will be quick. A mere check-up."

There was steel in his voice, a presence that seemed to grow as he spoke. Perhaps it was only the light, the situation, but the man appeared taller, his shoulders broader—

No.

It wasn't the light. And it was no illusion either, her Byakugan confirmed it; his chakra wasn't just robust — it was expanding, delving into realms of power she had never imagined reaching.

It was baffling. It seemed impossible to Hanabi that they hadn't noticed in the first place. And he looked so much younger too, a man early in his twenties.

Worse, he looked eerily… familiar. But even though she felt as though she should recognize him, Hanabi couldn't say why with certainty.

Neji, though seemingly uncertain, signaled Hanabi with a raised hand to stay her advance. She shot him a look of disbelief but held her ground, her eyes locked on the enigmatic Uzumaki before them.

"Once more…" Uzumaki intoned. "This will take but a moment."

His hand remained firm upon Neji's forehead. With a deep breath that seemed to draw the stillness of the room into his lungs, he closed his eyes, and his chakra surged forth.

Neji's eyes clenched tightly, undoubtedly bracing for the familiar pain that rose in crescendo. As usual, tendrils of pain would begin to weave their way through his head, spiraling from the hand on his forehead.

Hanabi forced her own to stay right where he was. It was Neji's wish.

"This might hurt some." Uzumaki warned.

"Just get it over with." Neji gritted out.

It started as a murmur, a whisper of discomfort that she had come to know all too well. The murmur grew into a shout soon enough. Hanabi watched, her heart racing, as the familiar grimace of pain contorted Neji's features.

He had described it.

She could almost see what he had meant, right now: the pain seemed to erupt from the point of contact, radiating outward like ripples in a pond.

It bloomed, sharp and insistent, clawing its way through the pathways of his mind. Each heartbeat became a war drum, echoing with the escalating pain, until the two were indistinguishable.

It would would then become all-consuming, a cacophony that drowned out thought, replaced by a singular focus on the excruciating sensation that was spreading through his skull.

It was a pain so pure, so all-encompassing, that Neji would no longer be able to form a coherent thought, could no longer remember a time before the agony. The sort of thing that was as pure as it was loathsome—

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the pain ceased.

In its absence, there was a void, a silence so profound that it seemed as though Neji feared his very senses had gone with it.

His body relaxed, nearly slumping to the floor.

Uzumaki's hand fell away, and Neji hesitantly opened his eyes, as though expecting to be blind.

But the world was all there, unchanged and indifferent.

The pain was gone, the Caged Bird Cursed Seal was gone.

Hanabi was staring at him, mouth agape. She wanted to say something, but the ability to form a coherent sentence had escaped her, and no words seemed capable of encapsulating the whirlwind that her thoughts had become.

Finally, Neji's gaze shifted to Uzumaki, whose hair blazed like a flame in Hanabi's eyes, his bearing now devoid of any semblance of frailty, except for the evident one.

The man sat again, and he didn't say a word either.

"…I see it, now." Neji breathed out. "How could I not notice…?"

Hanabi's eyes darted between the two men, the puzzle pieces falling into place in her mind as well.

And still, something was off. Some nagging inconsistency tugged at her. She scrutinized the scene silently.

"I didn't — I must have thought you were someone else." Neji said, shaking his head slowly. "Who, exactly… I do not know. Uzumaki Gojō, perhaps, but…"

The red-haired man's smile, which had slowly begun to bloom, faded an imperceptible amount.

"So you do know, then?"

"Yes." Neji said simply. "And I'm ashamed that it took me this long to recognize you — I had seen your face."

"Nothing to be ashamed of, I assure you." Uzumaki offered with a hint of fatigue. "That's on me. And please forgive me if I seem a bit out of it tonight, some of these matters require… time — and, I suspect, the story will help."

He then leaned forward, with a serious expression. Earnestness, too. "If you know now, if you truly understand, say my name, Hyūga Neji."

In the backdrop, the fireplace continued to crackle, a rhythmic counterpoint.

"You are Uzumaki Naruto." Neji finally said, without the slightest hesitation.

Uzumaki looked at him, truly looked at him. A half-smile graced his face, and Hanabi noticed, only then, the return of a spark in his eyes that she hadn't realized was missing.

"Yes." Uzumaki Naruto said, and even the way he spoke sounded changed. "That is who I am."

Uzumaki Naruto