Back in Konoha, the air was thick with mourning, the weight of loss pressing down on every street, every rooftop, and every heart that beat within the village's walls. The Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi, was dead. The man who had been the pillar of the village for decades had given his life in one final act of defiance, sealing away Orochimaru's arms and stripping him of his ability to wield jutsu. It had been a desperate move, one that left the village shaken to its core.
The streets were in ruins, scars left behind by the monstrous battle between colossal summons. The ground was cracked, buildings reduced to rubble, and the once-proud streets of Konoha now looked like the remnants of a battlefield rather than a thriving village.
Jiraiya, despite being present during the attack, had been unable to bring himself to fight his old friend and former comrade, Orochimaru. That hesitation, that moment of weakness, had cost Konoha dearly. Now, he sat alone in a dimly lit bar, the amber liquid in his cup barely masking the grief he felt deep in his soul. He had dedicated this drink to the old man, to the man who had once been his teacher, his leader, and in many ways, a father figure.
Outside the walls of the bar, the village whispered and conspired. While the civilians grieved and the shinobi tried to rebuild, others saw opportunity in the chaos.
Danzo Shimura, ever the opportunist, wasted no time in making his move. Naruko Uzumaki, the girl who had taken on the Sand's Bijuu in a battle of sheer will and power, received no recognition for her efforts. No praise, no thanks. Not even a promotion…
She had fought until her body gave out, until she collapsed from exhaustion, and yet, to the eyes of the village, she had done nothing extraordinary. She had simply done what was expected of her. She was still the useless girl, shunned by all.
Danzo, however, saw potential. He saw a weapon. Now that the third was dead, he had no reason not to try again.
Root had suffered a devastating loss. His hidden headquarters was in ruins, nearly a hundred of his most elite operatives were dead, and to make matters worse, two of his most valuable experiments had vanished without a trace. He was livid. Enraged. But he was not a man who allowed anger to cloud his judgment. If anything, it only sharpened his focus.
Using the chaos of the village as cover, he made his move to claim Naruko for Root. His justification was simple: she was too valuable to be left wandering aimlessly, too dangerous to be untrained, too much of a risk to be left to her own devices.
But once again, Danzo found himself met with resistance. The Shinobi council, for all their flaws, were not blind to his ambitions. Jiraiya, despite his grief, stood firm in his opposition. Heated words were exchanged, veiled threats disguised as political maneuvering, but in the end, Danzo was forced to withdraw, though not before making it clear that this was far from over, and they would regret their choice.
Meanwhile, Naruko lay alone in a hospital bed, her body covered in bandages, her chakra reserves depleted to their absolute limit. No one had come to see her. No one had checked on her. But that was nothing new. She was used to it.
Later that night, Jiraiya drowned his sorrows in sake, his mind torn between grief and guilt. But before he could sink too deep into his mourning, the air in the bar shifted. A ripple of chakra, old and familiar, pulsed through the room.
Two ancient toads materialized before him, their wise, weathered eyes locking onto his. Ma' and Pa'.
"Jiraiya boy," one of them croaked, his voice heavy with the weight of centuries, but also grandfatherly. "The Great Toad Sage has had a new prophecy. You are needed."
Jiraiya sighed, rubbing his temples. "Can this wait? I just lost my sensei. The village is in ruins. We're in the middle of a crisis."
The second toad, smaller but no less imposing, Ma' shook her head. "This concerns more than Konoha, Jiraiya boy. This concerns the fate of the world itself."
Jiraiya frowned, his fingers tightening around his cup. The last prophecy he had received had changed everything. It literally changed his goal, from then on, he wanted world peace, to find the child of destiny… If another had come…
He set the drink down and stood, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with something colder, sharper. "Alright," he said, his voice grim. "Let's go hear it… But I have to be back before the next morning, the village still doesn't have a leader, and they will try to push it to me if I am absent… That can't happen, it would cut into my research, I mean… My search for the child of destiny." The two old toads rolled their eyes, and knew, he just wanted to be able to peep on girls, with no responsibility of his own.
Little did he know, Guldrin and Shiro had no intention of letting Tsunade take the mantle of a dying village… They might have a major issue with Konoha, but Tsunade was one of their favorite characters in the anime, that and the undervalued Sakura… But she needs help, like a lot of help…
She just needs a major reality check, something to shake her naive outlook on life…
As the toads prepared to take him to Mount Myoboku, the weight of the future pressed down on Jiraiya's shoulders. He had a sinking feeling that whatever the Great Sage had foreseen, it was nothing short of world-shattering.
And somewhere, far away from the grief, the scheming, and the looming darkness, Guldrin and his group continued to feast beneath the stars, unaware of the storm that was brewing beyond the safety of their fire.
With a simple reverse summoning, Jiraiya was summoned to mount Myoboku, specifically the great sage's home.
Inside, a massive, overweight toad could be seen sitting on a throne… Asleep, but this wasn't anything new for them, the old toad slept more hours a day than he was awake, sometimes it was days or weeks, but today, he sensed Jiraiya's arrival and hiccuped before opening his eyes.
Jiraiya had seen many things in his lifetime, wars that tore nations apart, friends who became enemies, students who reached heights he never could, and villains who saw themselves as saviors.
But standing before the Great Toad Sage, waiting for yet another prophecy to drop like an anvil on his already heavy shoulders, he realized something unsettling. No matter how much he had learned, no matter how much he had prepared, the future always found a way to blind side him.
The air in the Sage's chamber was thick with the scent of damp moss and aged wisdom, the flickering glow of lanterns barely pushing back the shadows that clung to the corners. The massive, wrinkled form of the Great Sage sat atop his throne, eyes half-lidded with the weight of untold centuries. It took Jiraiya a moment to determine if the old toad was even awake.
"Ah… Jiraiya boy, what are you doing here?" The old toad's voice creaked like an ancient tree swaying in the wind.
Jiraiya stared for a long moment, unsure if he should be amused or deeply concerned. Before he could answer, one of the smaller toads, Pa, cleared his throat.
"Great Sage, you called Jiraiya boy here yourself," Pa reminded him patiently.
There was a pause. Then the old toad hummed in acknowledgment, looking genuinely surprised. "Ah, did I? Well, of course, it must be important! Jiraiya boy, I have summoned you here to-" He cut himself off, blinking. "Wait… why did I summon you here?"
A beat of silence passed.
Pa sighed, rubbing his webbed fingers against his forehead. "The prophecy, Great Sage. The one about the future."
"Ah! Yes, yes! It is urgent!" The Great Sage suddenly became animated, eyes widening as if he were just now recalling the reason for Jiraiya's presence. "Jiraiya boy, you must get him to come at once! I have foreseen a great catastrophe! The future of the ninja world is in peril!"
Another pause.
Pa cleared his throat again. "He is already here, Great Sage."
The Great Sage blinked, looked at Jiraiya again, then frowned. "Oh. Jiraiya boy, what are you doing here?"
This went on for a good thirty minutes, the conversation looping in circles, with the old toad rediscovering the urgency of his own vision only to promptly forget it moments later.
Jiraiya, for his part, was beginning to suspect this might be some sort of divine test of patience. He had faced down deadly foes, infiltrated enemy territories, and been caught peeking in the women's baths more times than he could count, but few things tested his endurance quite like trying to get a straight answer out of the Great Sage.
Finally, just when Jiraiya was about to start pulling his own hair out, the Great Sage's eyes snapped wide open, and the room seemed to darken. The air grew thick, heavy with something ancient and foreboding. Jiraiya straightened up immediately. He had seen this only a few times before, and each time, the prophecy that followed had shaped the world.
"I have seen a vision of what is to come," the Sage intoned, his voice carrying an eerie weight. "A world bathed in darkness… purple and black fire consuming the land… the great Mount Myoboku itself, burning in black flames."
Jiraiya's breath caught in his throat. Black flames? He had only heard whispers of such a thing, and none of those whispers carried anything good.
The Sage continued. "I saw you, Jiraiya boy… lifeless, fallen beneath the might of one who wields red lightning."
Jiraiya swallowed. That was… specific. Red lightning? He had seen blue, he had seen black, but red?
But the worst was yet to come.
"The world as you know it will fall. Not by chakra, not by any jutsu you understand, but by something new. A force beyond the Shinobi's grasp… a power that does not bend to chakra, that does not yield to jutsu. I saw… sticks that kill ninja as easily as a farmer slaughters a chicken. I saw explosions beyond anything our world has known. The lands, once divided by clans and villages, will be united under a new power, one even I cannot see clearly."
Jiraiya's skin crawled. The Sage could always see something. Even if the details were murky, even if the prophecy was vague, there was always something. But this? This was different. The very fact that the future was clouded, that there was a force outside even the Sage's sight, made Jiraiya's stomach churn.
"Who is behind it?" Jiraiya asked, his voice lower than he intended. "Who brings this future?"
The Great Sage exhaled heavily. "That… I cannot say. There is nothing there. No name. No face. Only the echoes of change and the screams of the dying."
What the Sage failed, or perhaps chose not, to explain was the full picture. That the one responsible for this "new world" was not simply a villain to be feared, but a force of revolution. That the destruction of Mount Myoboku wasn't an act of senseless violence, but retribution for the toads' manipulation and their attempts to twist fate in their favor, among other things.
That the world, under this unknown power, would finally see peace.
But none of that mattered to the Great Sage. He had seen a future where his kind suffered, where the ninja world as they knew it crumbled, and so, in his mind, that alone made the one responsible an enemy. He did not care for the reasons, for the why. He did not speak of the corruption that had been uprooted, of the wars that had been put to an end, of the suffering that had been lifted.
After all, he had his own agenda.
No, all he cared about was that the one who brought this change had cast Mount Myoboku into flames. And so, in his infinite wisdom, the Sage did what he had always done. He pointed toward the destruction, not the cause. He warned of the villain, but not of the sins that led to his rise.
And Jiraiya, loyal as ever, did not question it.
Jiraiya's hands curled into fists at his sides. The idea of an enemy he couldn't see, couldn't predict, made his stomach churn with unease. He had faced powerful foes before, had walked the razor's edge between life and death more times than he could count, but never had he been left so utterly blind. How could he prepare for a battle when he didn't even know who he was fighting?
And what the hell were these sticks that kill?
The silence in the chamber stretched.
Then, after a long moment, Jiraiya let out a slow breath and ran a hand through his wild, spiky hair. "Well… damn," he muttered. "That's one hell of a bedtime story. Really makes me-"
A sharp smack landed against the back of his head.
"Jiraiya-boy, this is no joke!" Pa scolded, hopping up and down on his shoulder.
Jiraiya groaned, rubbing the sore spot with a wince. "I know, I know," he sighed. "It's just… what exactly am I supposed to do about this? We've already got enough problems with Orochimaru running around, the Akatsuki making moves, the village still reeling from Orochimaru's attack, and now, apparently, some invisible force is gonna turn the whole world on its head?"
Another long, heavy silence.
The Great Sage simply gazed at him, those ancient eyes filled with wisdom, and something else. Something deeper. Something that made Jiraiya's skin crawl all over again.
"…You already know what must be done, Jiraiya-boy."
Jiraiya exhaled sharply through his nose, glancing away. He did. He just didn't like it.
"Find the being responsible," the Sage continued. "Find the one who will decide the world's fate. And finally, end the threat to the world by any means possible."
Jiraiya let out a humorless chuckle. "You make it sound so easy," he muttered.
And yet, the weight of the Sage's words settled onto his shoulders like a mountain.
Find the Child of Prophecy. The one who would either save the world or doom it. And now this new part, find the one who will destroy the world… He hadn't even fulfilled the first part, and he had been trying for most of his life.
But it wasn't like he had a choice… That was the answer, then. That was the only path forward.
But even as Jiraiya steeled himself, even as he nodded and prepared to depart, a quiet thought whispered in the back of his mind.
What if the Sage was wrong?
What if, just this once… fate wasn't as simple as he sees it?
What if the one he was meant to stop… wasn't a monster at all?
But a savior?
However, those thoughts disappeared as fast as they came, leaving him with one choice, to do their bidding… Was it due to some misguided loyalty…? Isn't he such a good puppy?
—
–
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Meanwhile, Guldrin didn't have a care in the world, not about the whispers of enemies plotting his downfall, not about whatever new fool was out there sharpening their blades and licking their lips at the thought of taking him down.
Let them try.
Get in line.
He had more important things to worry about, like making sure breakfast was good.
So while somewhere out there, shadowy figures schemed, and some great prophecy spoke of impending chaos, Guldrin simply sat by the water, fishing rod in hand, watching the ripples dance across the water's surface. The morning air was crisp, cool against his skin, the kind of quiet that felt like the world itself was taking a deep breath before the madness of the day began.
It was a rare moment of peace, one that he intended to enjoy while it lasted.
He had snuck out before dawn, leaving Shiro and Ino still wrapped in sleep. They had been through enough, and while neither of them would ever admit it outright, they needed the rest. So, for now, this was something he could do for them, something simple, something… Normal.
A good meal would help set the tone for the day, and if he was being honest with himself, he liked the idea of taking care of them in his own way.
Not that he was going to get all sentimental about it. But if he did, whose right would it be to fault him for it?
His grip on the rod tightened slightly as he felt a nibble on the line. He waited, patient, letting the fish commit before he gave a small, practiced tug to set the hook.
The line jerked, the fight beginning, but it wasn't much of a challenge. The fish flailed for a bit before Guldrin reeled it in with steady, measured pulls. Another catch. He tossed it into the woven basket beside him with the others, their silver scales glistening in the early sunlight.
It was a quiet kind of satisfaction.
And yes, before you ask, he let them suffocate.
As he sat there, his thoughts drifted, not to his recent captivity, not to the pain, the blood, or the scars it left behind, but to the unsettling familiarity of it all.
It should have shaken him more.
Should have left him angry, bitter, or at least unsettled. But instead, it was as if some part of him had already been here before, like his body and mind had simply gone through motions it already knew too well. It was disturbing in a way he didn't quite want to analyze too deeply.
What did bother him, though, what did make something in his chest burn hot, was what they had done to Shiro.
That wasn't something he could forgive.
Something, dare he say Primal, consumed him when he recalled it.
Not just because she was his, but because it was her. They had dared to touch her, dared to involve her in their twisted games, and that was something that demanded retribution.
He wasn't driven by some righteous need for justice, though he itched to judge Danzo, but that wasn't something he could achieve for a long time.
Nor did he feel some overwhelming fury at what had happened to himself.
That part barely registered.
But Shiro?
They would pay for that.
And then there was Ino.
His newest little shadow, his unintended yet unwavering follower, had been nothing more than a puppet during the ordeal. Used. Manipulated. Turned into something she never asked to be. That, too, was something that didn't sit right with him. Ino had been forced into this, into him, without ever realizing just what she was getting into. And yet, she was still here. Trying to recover her lost emotions and being a part of their odd little family.
That, at the very least, deserved breakfast.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of Guldrin's lips as he flicked his wrist and sent the line sailing back into the water. The bait disappeared beneath the surface with a small ripple, swallowed by the depths, and he leaned back slightly, letting the familiar weight of the rod settle against his grip. The gentle rhythm of the water, the crisp morning air, and the quiet solitude made this moment feel oddly perfect.
Whoever had said fishing was a waste of time clearly had no idea what they were talking about.
If things kept going like this, he'd officially declare fishing one of his favorite pastimes. Not because it was particularly thrilling, he had experienced enough real thrills to last a lifetime, but because it was simple, quiet, and, strangely enough, deeply satisfying.
The process alone was enjoyable.
The anticipation, the patience, the feeling of increasing his experience with every small tug on the line as his mind instinctively absorbed different techniques. There was an art to it, a strategy, a sense of understanding between the fisherman and the fish.
Some were fat, some small, some sleek and fast, others sluggish but stubborn fighters. And every single time he reeled one in, he found himself wondering, 'What will I catch next?'
It was amusing, almost childlike in its simplicity, but he didn't mind. It was a rare feeling, and he wasn't about to question it.
As he pulled in another decent-sized fish, he noticed something odd at the bottom of his basket, crawfish. 'Huh?' He blinked, staring at the little critters as they lazily twitched their claws, nestled among the fish. 'Crawfish? Here?'
He didn't even know the Naruto universe had crawfish, let alone that this random pond had them. This world kept surprising him in the strangest ways. He reached in, picking one up by its back as its tiny claws snapped at the air, completely unaware of how outmatched it was. 'You'll make a good addition to the breakfast soup', he mused before dropping it back into the basket.
But just as he was about to cast his line again, something shifted.
A low, guttural growl rumbled through the air, barely above a whisper but deep enough to vibrate in his chest. His body reacted before his mind fully registered the sound. His fingers twitched, his muscles tensed, and his senses sharpened instantly.
He didn't move just yet, no sudden motions, no panic, no wasted energy. Instead, his eyes flicked toward the treeline, where the shadows stretched just a little too long, the foliage shifting in a way that wasn't natural.
Something was watching him.
He could feel it.
That was a new feeling, it was like his very being is warning him…
His gaze swept the area, and then he saw it, just beyond the dense greenery, a sleek, panther-like beast with dark, bristling fur and piercing amber eyes. This wasn't just some regular predator… No, he could feel the difference. The subtle hum of energy radiating from it, the faint shimmering distortion in the air around its muscles, this was a chakra beast.
A normal animal that, through countless generations of survival and adaptation, had learned to harness chakra.
The show didn't really show anything about these little beasties, but he had his theories, and none of them were a good thing…
Super animals…
And judging by the way its eyes flicked from the basket of fish to the sleeping forms of Shiro and Ino in the distance, it had already decided what its next meal would be.
Guldrin's grip on the fishing rod tightened for a moment before he let out a small, nearly imperceptible sigh. 'So that's how it is'.
He didn't blame the creature. It was just following its instincts, the same way he had been a moment ago, waiting patiently for a bite on his line. It saw an opportunity, an easy meal, and it was going to take it.
But that wasn't happening.
Guldrin didn't care if something like this tried to go after him. That was the natural way of things, predators hunted, and the strong survived. But waking Shiro and Ino? Frightening them? Disturbing their well-earned rest after everything they'd been through?
No.
That wasn't going to happen.
He rose to his feet slowly, deliberately, turning to face the beast head-on. The creature growled again, lower this time, testing him, gauging whether he would run or fight. It didn't see him as a true threat yet, just an obstacle between it and an easy breakfast.
Big mistake.
With an almost casual motion, Guldrin reached down, his fingers brushing against the cool, familiar grip of a small metal object at his side. The beast tensed, eyes narrowing, muscles coiling as it prepared to pounce.
And then-
Psshhh.
A quiet, almost insignificant sound.
For the briefest second, the panther's eyes widened, confusion flashing through its primal mind. It had been ready for a fight, ready to spring forward, ready to strike,
But it never got the chance.
Because in the blink of an eye, everything went black.
The creature was dead before it even hit the ground, its body slumping forward in the dirt with a dull *thud*.
Guldrin didn't move for a moment, simply watching as the last traces of tension left the beast's limbs, its body finally still. Then, with a small sigh, he holstered his pistol back to his side.
Just in case anyone was wondering, it was dead. Completely and utterly dead. No dramatic last struggle, no final, desperate twitch of the claws. Just an instant, quiet, merciful end before it even knew what had happened.
In other words, it now had a hole through its forehead.
'And people say fishing is boring.'
Guldrin exhaled slowly, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips as he rolled his shoulders, stretching the stiffness from his back. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and freshwater, the kind of peaceful atmosphere that made the early hours worth it.
He cast a glance at the pond, its surface smooth except for the occasional ripple where fish danced beneath. His basket was full now, more than enough for breakfast. The thought of a proper meal after days of scavenged rations sent a certain warmth through him.
He could already picture Shiro's reaction. She wouldn't say much, of course, she rarely did when she was truly pleased, but he knew her well enough to recognize that small, contented smiles, though sometimes she flipped the board on him and acted completely out of character...
Most of the time, It was a subtle thing, something she reserved for moments she deemed worthy. Ino, on the other hand, would pretend not to care. She'd likely make a snarky remark, maybe something about how the fish was too bony or how he could've cooked it better, but he knew she'd eat faster than anyone else, proving her true feelings. But who knows, this Ino might be different?
And as for him?
He'd just enjoy another morning of rare, uninterrupted peace before chaos inevitably decided to rear its head again.
With practiced hands, he reached into the basket and grabbed a few fish, their scales glistening in the morning sun. The motions came naturally now, slice, gut, remove the eggs, set them aside, and then onto descaling. The rhythmic scrape of his knife against the fish was oddly calming, a soothing task that kept his hands busy while his mind drifted.
Unbeknownst to him, a certain someone had begun to stir.
Shiro's nose twitched as the unmistakable aroma of cooking fish wafted through the air. Her eyelids fluttered open, bright golden irises reflecting the soft light of the morning. The scent was warm, and savory, carrying a tantalizing zest of lemon-lime pepper that made her stomach grumble before she was even fully awake.
A slow, mischievous smile crept across her lips as a thought took root.
She stretched languidly, her body now far different from the one she had once possessed. The years had changed her in ways that had often caught even her by surprise. She was no longer the tiny, delicate thing she had been when she first met Guldrin.
No longer the petite, childlike beauty he had once known. Now, she had grown into something entirely different, her body filled out with sleek curves, toned in a way that spoke of agility and hidden strength. She was still short, though, much to her growing annoyance.
Her long, flowing white and purple hair cascaded around her, a striking contrast to the deep yellow of her eyes, tinged with hints of violet that shimmered in the light. Her once modest frame had developed into something far more defined. Her chest, though not overly generous, had certainly matured, a far cry from the A-cups she had lived with for years. Her midriff was taut, and toned, evidence of the countless battles and trials she had endured alongside Guldrin.
And in that moment, she decided she simply didn't care to dress herself.
A devious gleam lit up her eyes as she sat up, her bare skin kissed by the cool morning air. There was something oddly thrilling about it, the quiet vulnerability of the moment, mixed with the knowledge that she held the power to completely disrupt his calm, focused state.
Slowly, deliberately, she rose to her feet, stretching once more before padding toward him, silent as a ghost.
Guldrin remained entirely unaware of the approaching storm, his mind focused solely on the sizzling fish in front of him. The lemon-lime pepper seasoning had blended beautifully into the flesh, the heat releasing an aroma so mouthwatering that he barely noticed the light shift in the air behind him.
That was until something warm and unmistakably soft plopped itself directly into his lap.
His entire body stiffened.
Before he could even begin to process what was happening, a pair of slender arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into an embrace so sudden, so intimate, that his breath hitched in his throat.
And then, lips.
Soft. Warm. Insistent.
Shiro kissed him, deeply, without hesitation or restraint.
It took Guldrin all of two seconds to catch up, his brain momentarily short-circuiting from the sheer unexpectedness of it all. His hands instinctively tensed, one still gripping the knife, the other already discarding the fish and hovering in midair as if unsure where exactly to place itself. The sizzling of the fish became distant, forgotten, a mere afterthought compared to the sensation of Shiro's mouth moving against his.
But then, his hesitation melted.
With a low hum, he abandoned all doubts and leaned into the kiss.
His grip on the knife loosened as his free hand found its way to her waist, fingers grazing against the warm, bare skin he hadn't even realized was exposed. The realization hit him like a freight train, she wasn't wearing a damn thing.
His eyes flew open in brief alarm, but Shiro was relentless.
She deepened the kiss, pressing herself closer, as if daring him to pull away.
And he didn't.
Not when her fingers tangled in his hair, not when she let out the smallest, most satisfied little sigh against his lips, and certainly not when he felt the heat of her body completely enveloping his own.
The taste of her was intoxicating, something sweet, yet entirely unique to her and most likely credited to her poison attribute. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, carrying within it years of unspoken feelings, love, and accumulated longing.
But as much as he wanted to lose himself in it, a very loud, very unfortunate sizzle reminded him that reality was still very much a thing.
The fish.
With a begrudging groan, Guldrin pulled back just enough to break the kiss, though Shiro's arms remained firmly around his neck, her expression nothing short of triumphant.
While trying to pull back and ensure the food doesn't burn, he was awarded a full-frontal view of Shiro's body. "Shiro," he breathed, voice slightly ragged. "You're- uh- you're not wearing any-"
She simply tilted her head, golden eyes blinking at him, as if waiting for him to finish a statement she had no intention of acknowledging.
"I know," she said simply, her voice carrying that quiet, knowing amusement she always seemed to wield with such ease.
Guldrin swallowed. Hard.
He was suddenly very aware of just how much self-control he was being forced to exercise.
A smirk tugged at the corner of Shiro's lips, her fingers tracing lazy patterns against the nape of his neck. "You stopped kissing me."
Guldrin let out a strained chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand while carefully using the other to nudge the fish away from direct heat, turn it over, and allow it to keep cooking. "Yeah, well, I'd rather not let our breakfast turn into charcoal."
Shiro hummed, clearly unbothered. "That's fair," she conceded, though she made no move to get up from his lap.
For a brief moment, silence settled between them, save for the occasional pop of the fire and the distant chirping of birds.
And then…
"You really don't care that you're just- y'know, completely naked right now?" Guldrin asked, trying to keep his voice level.
Shiro blinked at him, tilting her head slightly. "Why would I?"
He stared at her.
She stared back.
A beat passed.
Guldrin exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. "You're impossible. One moment shy, and next this…"
Shiro merely smiled, shifting slightly in his lap before resting her head against his shoulder, her voice barely above a murmur. "And yet, you wouldn't have me any other way."
Guldrin opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out.
Because, damn it all, she was right.
It was a good thing Guldrin had a cooking skill, because he was able to multitask and ensure the food wasn't burned, all while he indulged in his gorgeous girlfriend.
Still, he managed to find some semblance of composure, glancing toward the fire with a faintly amused sigh. "If the fish is ruined, it's your fault."
Shiro made a noise of pure contentment, nuzzling into him like she had no intention of moving anytime soon. "I'll take responsibility, though, I won't cook the replacement, my cooking goes as far as instant ramen," she said, though there was absolutely no regret in her tone.
Unbeknownst to either of them, another presence had stirred.
A few feet away, nestled in the soft bedding of makeshift blankets, Ino had awoken to the sight of them wrapped in each other's arms.
And she couldn't look away.
At first, she hadn't been fully conscious, her mind still caught in the haze of half-sleep, but as reality settled in, as the image of Shiro curled against Guldrin, their closeness, the unmistakable intimacy of their interaction fully registered, she felt something sharp twist in her chest.
She wasn't stupid. She had known, of course. Anyone with eyes could see that Shiro and Guldrin were something. But knowing was different from witnessing.
She swallowed, her throat dry.
She should turn away. She should roll over, pretend she hadn't seen anything, pretend she hadn't just watched Shiro kiss him like he was the only person in the world who mattered.
But she didn't.
Something inside her wouldn't let her.
Her fingers twitched slightly against the fabric of the blanket draped over her, her breathing shallow, controlled.
Jealousy? Maybe.
Curiosity? Definitely.
A tangled mess of emotions warred within her, an unfamiliar heat coiling low in her stomach, one that made her feel restless, unsettled.
She was an adult now, physically, but emotionally? That was an entirely different battle. She had spent so much of her life suppressing things, shoving down emotions before they could become a liability, forcing herself into the mold the Root had carved for her.
But the Root seal was gone now.
And so was the control she had once held so tightly.
Unwilling, but controlled.
Her gaze flickered to Shiro again, and that was when it happened.
Shiro looked directly at her.
A knowing smirk played at the edges of the white-haired girl's lips, her golden eyes glinting in the dim morning light with something deliberate.
She wasn't oblivious.
She saw.
She knew.
And the worst part?
She didn't seem to mind.
Ino's breath hitched slightly, her fingers gripping the blanket just a little tighter.
It was dangerous, whatever this was.
But still…
She didn't turn away.
Instead, since Shiro didn't seem to mind, neither would she, her hand slowly crept closer to her neglected spot, a place she had never touched, whether it was due to the seal or not understanding, it didn't matter.
All that mattered was her burning desire, the fuel to the fire growing in her chest.
This went on for tens of minutes as Guldrin enjoyed this moment, made sure the cooking wasn't ruined, and was completely oblivious to Ino's pair of eyes burning holes through the two of them.
With a simple motion, Shiro shifted and chuckled as Ino shivered, her first-ever orgasm achieved. Once she saw Ino's convulsions ease, Shiro's voice cut through the morning air, sharp and teasing. "Ino, good morning, why don't you come to join us, breakfast is almost done."
Getting no response, Shiro giggled and called out again, "Ino, don't tell me you're already getting into mischief this early. Tell me, are you enjoying the shirtless sight of my hubby-San?"
This time, Ino's eyes snapped open, her entire body stiffening in shock. The realization hit her like a wave, her heart hammering as she scrambled to pull her wet, sticky fingers away from the place she'd been playing with moments before. Her mind raced, trying to find some semblance of normalcy, some way to quickly hide her reaction to the things she had just witnessed.
Her face burned, an inferno that spread from her cheeks all the way to the tips of her ears. She had been caught, and there was no way to hide it.
It was mortifying.
Her fingers, still damp with traces of what had been an uncontrollable moment of curiosity, hovered in the air before she hastily stuffed them under the blanket, hoping that no one would notice. It was impossible to ignore the heat pooling in her chest now, a mixture of embarrassment and something deeper that she was much less ready to confront.
One moment, she was a puppet given the task to mind-dive a handsome teen…
Then the next, she felt a connection built inside her heart, a connection that she felt wouldn't break no matter what she did.
And last, this teen, now man, her man? Where did that thought come from?
Anyways, this man and his girlfriend freed her, broke out of the base which she had resigned herself to, and brought her with them to freedom…
It was too much for her… and now this?
What was she supposed to do?
How was she supposed to feel?
Shiro's smirk was unmistakable, a gleam of amusement flashing in her golden eyes as she casually glanced over her shoulder, catching Ino in the act. "Once you are dressed, bring my clothes if you would. I'm rather... occupied, if you understand what I mean."
Shiro's voice was playful, dripping with a mix of innocence and deliberate intent. It wasn't the first time she had used her mischievous tone, but this time, something felt different. Something shifted in the air between them, thick with the unspoken. Shiro wasn't hiding anything. She wasn't ashamed.
And Ino, still struggling to wrap her head around the flood of new emotions coursing through her, felt a knot tighten in her stomach.
She should have known better, but the words Shiro had just spoken sent an unmistakable shiver down her spine. It was the implied meaning, the way Shiro had spoken, with such ease and assurance, as if there was no doubt about what had just happened. Ino was lost, completely disoriented by the situation.
She was still adjusting to all these new feelings, new sensations, that she had been forced to bury for so long. The floodgates had opened in a way that left her both terrified and fascinated at once.
But what was even worse, what made Ino feel even more exposed, was the fact that she had been caught in the act. The thoughts she had barely allowed herself to acknowledge now lingered in her mind, uninvited, unwanted, but impossible to ignore.
But, a faint hope grew inside her heart, Shiro wasn't angry, then maybe there was room for her?
Guldrin, however, had a much more immediate reaction. The moment the words hit the air, a bolt of lightning seemed to strike him directly in the chest. He felt the familiar rush of blood to his face, his ears tingling with the heat of sudden embarrassment.
The realization of what was happening hit him like a bucket of cold water, washing away the tranquil thoughts that had occupied his mind just moments before.
They came to this world as teens, kissing had been the most they had ever done, but three long years later, they were adults now…
He had let the emotions buried inside, bubble to the surface, and he didn't know if he could shove them back down, or… If he even wanted to try?
He hadn't meant for any of this to happen. He had been so focused on making breakfast, on creating something simple and satisfying to enjoy with Shiro and Ino, that he hadn't realized just how close the lines had blurred. How could he have missed it?
Maybe he didn't?
Maybe he just didn't want to hide anything anymore…?
"Uh, oh, good morning Ino," he stammered, trying to maintain some semblance of calm. "You can wash up in the pond, I left the soaps and washcloths over there." He gestured awkwardly toward the small stash of toiletries he had left out for both of them earlier in the morning, shampoo, conditioner, soap, and the like, arranged in a neat little pile just beside the water's edge. It seemed the most practical solution, the least awkward thing he could offer.
But his attempt at casualness failed spectacularly. Ino's blush deepened, her eyes flitting away from his gaze as she scrambled to pull herself together, her hand still hidden beneath the blanket, as if that would somehow erase the tension that hung in the air between them.
It didn't, and Guldrin would never admit that due to his heightened sense, he could smell it from where he was…
Ino may just die from embarrassment if he did.
The awkward silence stretched on for a few moments longer, until Guldrin, desperate to get back to normal, took one more discrete sniff, and quickly turned his attention back to the food.
The sizzling of the fish was a familiar sound, one he could focus on to ground himself. It had been a while since the last time he had felt so unprepared for something. He felt like he was back to the first street race that he attended with his family and saw the scantily clad women for the first time… He was embarrassed, but unlike that time, he was enjoying it more than he wanted to admit.
Meanwhile, Shiro's giggles filled the air, her laughter light and teasing as she shot a playful glance at Ino. It wasn't lost on Guldrin how effortlessly Shiro moved through the situation. She wasn't flustered, not even a little. If anything, she was thoroughly enjoying herself, taking far too much pleasure in the discomfort and shame that was radiating off of Ino.
"Don't mind him, Ino," Shiro said with a wink, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "He's just embarrassed because he's not used to being the center of attention, isn't that right?"
Ino's head snapped up at the remark, her face still flushed from the earlier incident. She couldn't look away. There was something in Shiro's gaze, something bold and teasing, that made her heart race. Shiro's presence was always like this, effortless and magnetic.
Ino might not know this side of Shiro, but Guldrin did, and he suspected Ino would learn quite quickly.
"I- I wasn't-" Ino stuttered, trying to find the words, but they escaped her. She couldn't explain herself, couldn't make sense of the rush of emotions that had overtaken her in such a short time. All she could do was mumble a thank you and sorry, her voice barely above a whisper.
What was she saying thank you, and sorry for, it didn't matter.
With that, Shiro, seemingly satisfied with her teasing, gave Guldrin a quick, affectionate kiss on the lips. It was warm, soft, and somehow knowing. Without another word, she turned and sauntered toward Ino, who was still holding herself stiffly under the blanket.
Guldrin couldn't help but watch as Shiro reached out, gently grabbing Ino by the arm, and guiding her toward the pond. Both completely nude, thanks to Ino not wearing clothes to sleep due to Shiro's teasing, much to Guldrin's visual pleasure.
There was something in the way Shiro moved, like she was both protective and playful, but with an underlying current of something much deeper, something Guldrin didn't fully understand.
If he had taken a moment to think about it, he would have known that Shiro was trying to draw Ino to her faction, to the harem that she was convinced Guldrin would make.
Ino, still flustered, allowed herself to be led away, though her gaze lingered on Guldrin for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable in her expression. She didn't look away this time, didn't hide behind the blanket or retreat into herself. Instead, she seemed to brace herself, like she was determined to face whatever came next, no matter how difficult or complicated it might be.
Guldrin, for his part, tried his best to block out the distraction, his mind still swirling with the images of the last few moments. Shaking his head, he focused on the fish, the food, anything that could anchor him to the present moment and not the awkwardness that had just passed.
But, of course, it didn't work.
Nor did his junior calm down, the sounds of splashing, girls gossiping, and other suggestive dialog fueling the heat inside his loins.
The truth was, that Guldrin was beginning to realize just how complicated things had become. These relationships, these dynamics that he had once thought simple, Shiro, Ino, and even himself, had all shifted in ways he hadn't expected. And now, everything felt like a fine line, one that he was trying to walk without falling over, without making a misstep.
He was beginning to wonder if he needed to anymore?
Like that, Guldrin felt a flicker of doubt slide through him, as it had been more and more often lately.
It wasn't the type of doubt that came from uncertainty about his abilities or about the things he could accomplish, no, this was different. It was the kind of doubt that made him question his path, the choices he was making, and, in some strange way, even the very feelings he had long thought were simple, clear-cut.
Relationships.
Affections.
Those things that once seemed like straightforward dynamics were now tangled threads, weaving in and out of his heart and mind in a way he couldn't quite grasp, even when he tried.
Shiro had always been at his side, steadfast, unchanging. In a world full of uncertainty and chaos, she had been his constant. For many years, it had just been the two of them, and that simplicity, that shared connection, had been more than enough. Then they found Skye, and she became like a little sister, but it didn't change their relationship.
They understood each other without words, their bond unspoken but undeniable. But now, things had shifted, and the presence of others in his life, ones he hadn't expected, had begun to cloud the clarity he once had.
There was Ino, for example. Messy. Unpredictable. She had come into his life like a whirlwind, her presence a storm he hadn't known he was unprepared for. It hadn't been intentional, he was sure of that. She hadn't come into his life planning to make things complicated, but that was what she had done, all the same.
I mean, who could have known, Danzo, would deliver Ino directly into his grasp by accident, all due to a false understanding of Guldrin's nature? Even Guldrin himself didn't know why it had happened the way it had.
And now, he couldn't stop thinking about her. She was captivating, in ways that scared him and thrilled him at the same time. He knew the Ino from the show, but this girl, she was not that person… However, that didn't change her nature at the core, She had this way of getting under his skin, of making him think about things he'd never considered before.
And it wasn't just that she was beautiful, though that was certainly true, but it was the way she made him feel. She made him feel alive in a way that he hadn't realized he'd needed.
Ever since she became his follower, he was possessive, protective, and many other unidentified emotional states that he has yet to come to an understanding about.
And then there was Skye. She was on his mind, a constant figure in his thoughts, even if he hadn't been able to fully admit it yet. She was a part of the puzzle that wasn't quite completed, but he could feel her presence there, like a promise of something more. She was shy, introverted and a loner, maybe even mysterious, she had a way of moving through his life without demanding attention, but somehow, he knew that she was just as significant as the others.
Rika, or Quiet, had entered his thoughts too, and though he hadn't spent as much time with her, the connection he shared with her felt almost inevitable. She was a force to be reckoned with, someone who had a fire in her that matched his own.
They were both driven by something deeper than just surface-level attraction, though Guldrin couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly that was. Was it their past lives? Something more? He didn't know…
And then, there was Saeko. She was like the calm before a storm, graceful, calculated, and strong in ways he admired. Her quiet strength and elegance made her impossible to ignore. He could tell that beneath that calm demeanor was a fierce spirit, one that might just match his own in ways he hadn't yet explored. Some might call her violent, but all Guldrin saw was the perfect sword-wielding yandere that needs a hug and affection.
God help him if he ever opened that can of worms without full commitment, thankfully Guldrin knows better if he does, he will keep her, and ensure her happiness… After all, who could be a better person for her than a person who keeps finding more ways to get himself into deadly situations?
Guldrin's mind was a jumble of names and faces, feelings and thoughts, each one slipping in and out of focus with equal intensity. There were moments when he felt like he was teetering on the edge of something he didn't quite understand, but what terrified him most was the realization that he might not need to understand it all.
Why fight it?
His feelings were real, and they were tangled in ways he couldn't untangle, but maybe that was okay. He was a Devil, a Dragon, an Angel, three states of beings in one, each with their own desires, their own needs. And if he was all those things, didn't he deserve more? Didn't he deserve the chance to explore what lay within him, without judgment, without restraint?
Emily had always said he was destined to have more wives, Hell, she even claimed to be the first, wasn't he trying to fight the inevitable by going against it?
His hands moved with precision, flipping the fish with an expert flick of his wrist, but his thoughts refused to slow down. The soft sound of water splashing in the distance broke through the haze of his mind. It was the sound of the pond, where Shiro and Ino had begun their morning routine, another reminder of the changing landscape of his life.
The murmurs of their voices reached him, a reminder of how much had shifted since they had come to this world and Ino had come into the picture. For so long, it had just been him and Shiro, simple, direct, uncomplicated. Of course, he had his family, but none of them knew the life he really lived, only Shiro…
But now, with Ino, things were far from simple. She brought a level of unpredictability that he had never experienced before. He wasn't sure if he was ready for it, but at the same time, he couldn't deny that he was drawn to her, like a moth to a flame. What was he supposed to do about it? What was the right thing?
He can't help but remember a saying, 'Only Children make choices, Adults want it all'.
His thoughts swirled, faster than the hands that worked to perfect the fish.
What did it mean, to have these feelings?
Was he supposed to ignore them?
To push them down and pretend they didn't exist?
That wasn't who he was. He never ran from a challenge, never backed down from a fight. But this? This was new. It wasn't about facing down an opponent or outwitting someone, it was about navigating his own emotions, which were far more complicated than anything he had faced before.
The thought of admitting any of this to Shiro even if he knew in his heart she would shrug, get jealous, cling to him, and then move on, or even to admit it to himself was overwhelming.
She was his constant, his partner in ways that transcended labels or titles. They had been through so much together, and now, with Ino's arrival, he wasn't sure how to even begin to explain what was happening inside of him.
But even as his mind raced, his hands remained steady. The fish was nearly done, perfectly cooked, its flesh flaky and golden. The scent of it filled the air, rich and comforting, and for a moment, he allowed himself to focus on that, the meal he was preparing for those he cared about.
His lovers?
Friends?
Allies?
Companions?
It was hard to find the right word for what they all were to each other. Shiro, though, she was different. She was, in his heart, something more than just a lover or a friend. In some quiet, unspoken way, she had always been his partner, the one who understood him in a way no one else could. She was his wife, in all but name, or maybe; if you considered the system as a higher power, she might be his wife in all the ways that matter. He had never admitted it out loud, but now, looking at the relationship they had built, it felt right. It felt like the truth.
But Ino… Ino was something else entirely. He couldn't deny the attraction, the pull he felt every time she was near. But what did that mean? What did it mean for his relationship with Shiro? Did it mean he was somehow betraying her by feeling this way? Or was it just another facet of his complex nature, something that didn't need to be feared but understood?
Had she not been calling him a harem protagonist in the past?
These were questions for another time, though, he told himself. Right now, he was cooking, and that was all that mattered. The meal needed to be perfect. He had decided on soup featuring crawfish, a simple, light dish that would fill them without weighing them down. It seemed like the right choice for the morning, a start to the day that was neither too heavy nor too light. He focused on the flavors, making sure everything was balanced.
He didn't have the answers to the questions swirling in his mind, but at least he could create something for those he cared about. Maybe that was enough for now.
He could worry about the rest later. The morning wasn't going to last forever, and soon, they would all be gathered around the fire, sharing the meal he had prepared. They would laugh, talk, and enjoy each other's company, and for a while, at least, he could set aside the questions that plagued him.
He didn't know what the future held, but he knew that it wouldn't be easy, and it wouldn't be predictable. Relationships were never simple, he had learned that the hard way in his life as Big Boss. But perhaps that was the beauty of it all.
The complexity, the unpredictability, was what made life worth living. And as much as he wanted to focus on the meal, to focus on the present moment, he couldn't shake the feeling that whatever happened next, things would never be the same.
But that was okay. After all, unlike his past life, he wouldn't let them go, he wouldn't make the wrong choices, he wouldn't be used till nothing remained… In this life, he would embrace it all, never lose anything, and live happily, no matter what stood in the way.
(Give me your POWER, Please, and Thank You! Leave reviews and comments, they motivate me to continue.)