A Sleepless Night
Naruto and Sasuke had adapted to the act of killing with startling speed. It was as if they were born to be ninjas. Sakura, though slightly slower to adjust, still showed remarkable resilience. Kakashi observed their progress with a mix of pride and concern.
"It's an honor to be their teacher," he thought, watching from the shadows as Team 7 completed their mission in Nightwish Town. Despite a minor hiccup at the start, they had handled the situation well. The mission was a success, but the cost was heavy. All the townspeople had been killed, and the lone survivor—a woman who had endured unspeakable horrors—had chosen to end her own life. For Team 7, the mission was complete, but it felt like a loss.
The journey back to Konoha was somber. Even Naruto, usually so cheerful, wore a serious expression. The weight of what they had witnessed and done hung heavily over the team.
Kakashi broke the silence first. "You all did well on this mission. Your intelligence gathering was thorough, and you executed the plan with precision. For your first mission of this nature, it was impressive."
His words, however, did little to lift the team's spirits.
"Remember," Kakashi continued, his tone softening, "we're ninjas. We can't let emotions cloud our judgment. The world is full of unknowns, and not everything is within our control."
As he spoke, Kakashi's mind drifted to his father, Konoha's White Fang, a man whose legacy was both a source of pride and pain. The memory brought a wistful expression to Kakashi's face. For Team 7, tonight would be a sleepless one.
The Next Day
By noon, they had returned to Konoha. Kakashi gave them a three-day break, allowing them time to process what they had experienced. Sasuke, ever the driven one, continued his training without pause. Sakura, still shaken, stayed home, plagued by nightmares. Naruto, however, seemed unaffected—at least on the surface. Internally, he was preoccupied with thoughts of experimentation and the limitations Konoha placed on him.
In his office, Kakashi reported the mission's details to the Third Hokage. Hiruzen listened intently, puffing on his pipe.
"Naruto and the others adapted well," Kakashi concluded. "Naruto, in particular, showed remarkable leadership and tactical skill."
Hiruzen nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Naruto has his father's gentle nature. It's good to see him growing into his potential."
Kakashi hesitated before adding, "His mental state seems stable. He even comforted his teammates before the mission."
Hiruzen's smile deepened. "Naruto's growth is in your hands, Kakashi. This isn't an order from your Hokage—it's a request from an old man."
Naruto's Home
Naruto sat in his room, his expression serious. The mission had left him with more questions than answers.
"If a soul infused with chakra can transform into a Hollow, what about an ordinary soul?" he wondered. During the mission, he hadn't dared to experiment further with Kakashi watching. Now, he regretted not seizing the opportunity.
"Where do these souls go? Is there a place in this world like the Soul Society?" The questions swirled in his mind, but without the freedom to experiment, he couldn't find the answers.
"Konoha restricts me too much," Naruto thought, his eyes narrowing. "I need to gain their trust—enough to conduct my experiments without interference."
In the sealed space within him, Aizen's voice echoed softly. "Naruto, at this stage, is too constrained. Perhaps it would be better to destroy such a Konoha."
The Training Ground
During the three-day break, Sasuke trained relentlessly, his determination unshaken. Sakura, still haunted by the mission, stayed home, her nights filled with nightmares. Naruto, however, was preoccupied with his next steps.
"We need to leave the village again," he thought. "I need to find a way to conduct my experiments without drawing suspicion."
Exhausted from the high-intensity mission, Naruto eventually fell into a deep sleep. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the familiar, dreamlike palace—the space where his Zanpakutō resided.
The palace was as desolate as ever, its grandeur muted by an air of loneliness. At the far end stood the throne, simple yet imposing. Naruto approached it, his curiosity piqued.
"It's here again," he murmured. "The Zanpakutō's space."
The last time he had been here, he had awakened his Shikai. This time, he wondered if he was on the verge of achieving Bankai.
From Aizen, he had learned that Bankai was the ultimate form of a Zanpakutō, a power far beyond Shikai. Only the most skilled Shinigami could master it, and its release could increase one's combat power by five to ten times. The thought excited him.
As Naruto pondered, the shadowy figure of his Zanpakutō spirit appeared beside the throne, its face still obscured by a hood.
"Long time no see, my king," the figure said, its voice respectful.
Naruto nodded. "Hello. I've been thinking—do you have a Bankai?"
The figure trembled slightly, its tone tinged with disappointment. "So, you seek the Bankai of Kyoka Suigetsu?"
Before Naruto could respond, the palace began to fade, the figure's voice growing distant. As his vision blurred, Naruto caught a glimpse of the figure's lips moving, but the words were lost to him.
When he awoke, he was back in his room, his mind racing.
"Was that a sign that I'm not ready for Bankai?" he wondered. "Or is there more to it?"
The thought lingered as he muttered to himself, "This world limits my spiritual pressure too much. But what did he mean? Am I longing for the Bankai of Kyoka Suigetsu? Or is there another Bankai?"