Naruto blocked every single one of Zabuza's strikes—not with Kagura Shingan, not with flashy jutsu, but with pure instinct honed to a razor's edge.
He didn't need eyes to see. He didn't need the Sharingan to anticipate.
His body moved like it remembered the battle before it even happened.
Zabuza swung wide—Naruto twisted. A blade came down—Naruto was already gone.
Because this wasn't the first time he fought blind.
Back in Shikkotsurin, the sacred forest where even the bravest shinobi dared not tread, he had taken the trial: every sense sealed—sight, sound, smell, touch, taste—obliterated by potent spores.
Compared to that?
This mist?
Child's play.
"Only my sight is sealed this time," he thought calmly. "I can breathe. I can hear. This… is easy."
With every breath Zabuza took, every shift in the mist, and every tension in the air, Naruto felt it all. Not with chakra. Not with tricks. Just a warrior's sharpened spirit.
Zabuza leapt back, panting slightly, sweat on his brow. He couldn't hide it anymore.
"He's faster than me. Smarter. Stronger. And he's not even trying," he cursed in his mind.
Naruto stood tall, still, unshaken.
"Your mist is thick," Naruto said coolly, brushing Zabuza's blade aside with a flick of his wrist, "but not enough."
Meanwhile, far from the battlefield, Tazuna was running—no, stumbling—through the fog-lined path like a man possessed. His heart pounded in panic, his breath ragged.
And just ahead—salvation.
Karin, Kakashi, and Sasuke had already left the house, alerted by the sudden shift in the air.
"Save! Save him!" Tazuna wheezed, practically collapsing as he reached them.
Kakashi caught him with a firm grip, steadying the old builder as he shook with exhaustion. "Tazuna, breathe. What happened?"
Tazuna struggled to find words, still gasping. "Naruto… on the bridge… Haku…she—and Zabuza's back! She is with him. Naruto's fighting him alone!"
Karin's face paled.
Her heart dropped like a stone in her chest.
She had warned Naruto earlier that morning. Told him to be careful. Begged him to take her vision seriously.
"I had a nightmare," she whispered, almost to herself, "he was alone... bleeding…"
Naruto had just laughed it off with that stupid grin of his—the one that somehow made her both want to punch and protect him.
Now?
Now she was terrified she might lose him.
"No," Karin whispered, fists clenched tight at her sides. "He isn't the one who falls here… not like this."
He promised.
Karin's breathing slowed as she forced the dread down into her chest. Her eyes sharpened, steady. This wasn't the time to panic—Naruto needed her to believe in him. And she did. With everything.
"Tazuna, calm down," she said, her voice surprisingly even, a contrast to the storm swirling in her chest. "Tell us everything. What happened—start to finish."
Tazuna blinked, confused by her sudden shift into composure. But something about her tone, the quiet resolve in it, gave him pause—and focus.
He nodded, swallowing hard.
"Haku… she came back," he began. "Inari saw her in the mist. Naruto believed she had returned, and so did I."
Kakashi's eye narrowed, and Sasuke's brows drew together.
Tazuna continued, his voice turning more urgent. "But then… while they were talking, laughing—Haku stabbed him. Right in front of us."
Karin gasped, but didn't move. Her eyes closed for a moment as if praying or searching for chakra.
"But Naruto…" Tazuna said, almost disbelieving, "he forgave her. He said she was his friend. That… that it didn't matter."
Kakashi muttered under his breath, "Typical Naruto…"
"And then Zabuza showed up," Tazuna went on, "laughing, mocking him. Said Haku did a good job."
The air seemed to be still.
"They're fighting now. Naruto said he wouldn't heal the wound. Said he'd beat Zabuza even with it." Tazuna looked up at them, a mixture of hope and helplessness in his eyes. "He was serious."
Karin exhaled slowly. "Of course he was."
She turned toward the bridge, her eyes flaring with renewed fire. "We're wasting time. Let's go."
Kakashi nodded, his face set. "Right behind you."
And Sasuke? He said nothing. But the way he moved—fast, sharp, silent—he was already ahead.
All three—Kakashi, Karin, and Sasuke—took off in a blur after Tazuna's urgent cry, their feet barely touching the ground.
But even as the trio dashed toward the mist-covered battlefield, Tazuna didn't slow down either. His breaths came heavy, but his steps only got faster.
"This fight…" he muttered to himself, jaw clenched tight, "…it should've been ours to win. We're the ones who brought this danger. Yet Naruto's out there bleeding, fighting for us."
He gritted his teeth, eyes burning.
"We need to finish this. We need to stand up."
With that, the old man's pace quickened—his body running, yes, but his heart sprinting harder.
As he stormed through the village center, people began turning toward him—pausing their morning errands and shop talk. The usually grounded and composed bridge builder now looked rattled, panicked, driven by something more than just haste.
"Isn't that Tazuna-san?"
"What's going on?"
"Why's he running like that?"
Whispers stirred like the wind, rippling through the crowd.
Tazuna didn't stop to explain. There was no time. But his eyes-those—worn, tired eyes—told them everything. Urgency. Fear. Determination.
This wasn't just about finishing a bridge anymore.
This was about finishing what they all started.
Tazuna skidded to a halt in the center of the village square, lungs burning, heart pounding—but not from fear.
From purpose.
He raised his hand high, waving, yelling for attention. "Everyone, gather! Please, just listen!"
Villagers peeked from behind doors, from market stalls, from alleyways, hesitant at first. But they came. Not because they weren't afraid, but because they still respected Tazuna. Always had. The only reason they kept their distance was the same reason their backs were bent and eyes downcast—Gato's iron grip.
After all, hadn't Tazuna already lost his son-in-law trying to stand up to that monster?
The crowd thickened. Murmurs bubbled.
"Tazuna-san, what happened?"
"Why are you shouting like that?"
Tazuna took a deep breath, chest heavy with the weight of years and silence.
"You all know about the bridge I've been building," he started, voice raw. "Some of you have cursed me for it. Some have begged me to stop."
Voices stirred again—some scoffing, some muttering bitterly.
"I understand," he continued. "I do. You're scared. So was I. Gato crushed us under his boot, made us feel like worms in the mud. We stopped fighting. We stopped dreaming. We started surviving."
He paused, scanning the crowd.
"But the kids—yes, kids—I hired just to protect me on my journey… they're out there, right now, fighting for us."
The murmurs dimmed. A stillness settled in.
"That Uzumaki boy—Naruto—he took a blade. He was stabbed because he believed we were worth protecting. And instead of giving up, he stood up."
His voice cracked, just a little. Just enough.
"They're not from here. They don't owe us anything. But they're risking their lives, while we're standing here doing nothing."
Tazuna's fists clenched. "If we don't stand for ourselves now… when will we? If we don't stand for those kids, then we don't deserve that bridge. Or peace."
He took one last breath, then raised his voice like a hammer against the silence.
"It's time we finish what they started. Who's with me?"
The crowd was silent—uncomfortably so. Murmurs floated like dying embers, hesitant, cold, fading before they could spark a flame.
Tazuna stood frozen, his head slowly bowing under the invisible weight of their silence. It wasn't rejection he felt—it was fear. Thick, suffocating, paralyzing fear.
"Even now... even after everything…?"
He had poured his heart into them. Laid bare the truth. Told them of the boy who bled for their freedom.
But their eyes… still darted like frightened animals.
"Does fear truly conquer the human heart so fully?" he wondered bitterly. "Is there no room left for courage? For shame? For pride?"
And then, as if to answer his silent plea…
"I'll fight!"
The voice cut through the murmurs like a kunai through mist.
Heads turned. Gasps followed.
A man stepped forward—middle-aged, scarred from hard labor, calloused hands clenched into fists. His voice trembled, but not from fear—from fire.
"Are we really going to let children fight our battles?" he barked. "Tazuna's right. We've lived in fear long enough. What's the point of surviving if we've already given up on living?"
Another stepped forward. Then another.
"For Kaede… for my brother!"
"For my daughter's future!"
"I'm tired of hiding—let's take back our village!"
Voices rose like a tide, one after the other, each echoing louder than the last. Anger. Shame. Hope. They surged together, a chorus of the long-buried human spirit breaking its chains.
Tazuna looked up, stunned.
And for the first time in years, he saw life return to his people's eyes.
The villagers gathered tools—not weapons, but whatever they could use. Farming sickles. Wooden planks. Hammers. Anything. Because they understood—
They weren't just building a bridge anymore.
They were building their future.
While the villagers awakened their courage, rallying behind Tazuna, the wind on the bridge whispered of a battle just ended.
Karin, Kakashi, and Sasuke finally reached the edge of the battlefield, their feet skidding to a stop—eyes widening at the sight before them.
Naruto sat on the cold stone of the bridge, his breath ragged, his face pale. Blood stained his jacket, his arm cradled a wound that was clearly deep—but his expression?
Calm. Worn. But calm.
Beside him, Zabuza lay motionless. Not dead—but broken. His blade lay discarded a few feet away, and the proud Kiri shinobi, Kiri no Kijin… had been defeated.
By him.
By Naruto.
Kakashi stared in disbelief. Sasuke clenched his fists. Karin ran to him, eyes wide with worry.
But Naruto, with that ever-defiant grin of his—just looked up at them and said:
"You're late."