[Anbu HQ, Command Chamber Sub-Basement 1 – Hidden Leaf Village]
The chamber beneath the ANBU headquarters was dim, the stone walls swallowing sound like a crypt. Only the faint glow of the paper lantern above Danzo's desk gave the place shape—a desk that had seen more signatures of death than peace.
Naruto stood rigidly across from him, mask off, coat draped loosely over his frame like a shadow half-pulled. His arms behind his back, expression calm, neutral—but his eyes sharp as glass.
Danzo said nothing at first, letting the silence chew at the air.
"Report," he finally uttered, voice as flat as the documents neatly arranged before him.
Naruto exhaled softly through his nose, and began.
Concise. Efficient. Every detail.
The abandoned hideout. The sealed chambers.
The data fragments, the mimicry chamber, the unknown language.
The metallic cylinders.
The recordings
Except for the stone tablet.
Danzo listened in silence, unmoving, save for the slight tap of his finger against the desk's edge.
When Naruto finished, the elder finally spoke.
"No sign of remaining hostiles?"
"None. The laboratory was left barren, by intention."
Danzo's gaze lingered on him. "And your assessment?"
Naruto hesitated a moment, then spoke, his voice clipped.
"It wasn't just a hideout, sir. It was a farewell. A stage cleared for something else. What they left behind… wasn't danger. It was breadcrumbs."
Danzo gave a faint nod, leaning back, hands folding beneath his chin.
Naruto remained motionless, then after a breath, spoke again.
"Permission to speak freely, Sir."
Danzo's single visible eye flicked toward him, cool and assessing.
"You may."
Naruto's jaw worked for a second before he spoke.
"You've known me my entire life."
A statement, not a question.
"Raised me. Trained me. Molded me into what I am."
Danzo's expression remained unreadable.
Naruto continued.
"But there are things you never told me. About who I am. About my parents."
His gaze narrowed slightly.
"And about what they left behind."
Danzo said nothing.
"There was a language I spoke down there," Naruto went on, voice quieter now. "One I shouldn't know. No record of it in the archives. No trace in the histories."
He took a step forward, eyes sharp.
"But it felt... familiar."
Danzo exhaled through his nose, a subtle shift of his fingers the only sign of tension.
"There is nothing left behind for you, Naruto," he replied evenly. "Only the village. That is your inheritance."
Naruto's gaze hardened.
"Is that really true?"
Danzo did not blink.
"I am not in the habit of withholding sentiment."
A long pause.
Naruto's stare lingered a beat longer, weighing, calculating.
He knew Danzo was lying.
Not because of the words.
But because he'd spent a lifetime learning how Danzo lies—by omission, by structure, by design.
But Naruto didn't push.
Not yet.
He stepped back, posture relaxing marginally.
"Understood, sir."
Danzo watched him for another heartbeat, then gave a slight nod.
"You've done well. As always."
Naruto's lips quirked faintly beneath his mask as he turned to leave.
"That's what we do, isn't it, sir?"
"Execute without question. Tail to your fang."
Danzo's gaze lingered on him as he disappeared into the darkness beyond the chamber doors.
And when Naruto was gone, the old man finally let out a breath, fingers tightening faintly over the edge of the desk.
---
The stars had scattered by the time Naruto finally stepped past the western gate, his stride loose but heavy. The moon slung high, thin as a sickle, cutting through the darkness without warmth. The weight of what they found pressed against his ribs like a secret too large to swallow.
The whispers of the tablet still echoed in his mind. The voices on the recorder. Orochimaru's pride. Not lies—but truths too heavy to swallow. And the blood that came with them.
But tonight, just for a little while, he walked as himself.
Not the shadow lurking behind Anbu masks.
Not the executioner.
The man no one really knew.
The fox in the shadows, tail hidden from the fang—
—until the sound of soft, deliberate footsteps matched his own.
Naruto's shoulder twitched instinctively, hand brushing the hilt of his ninjatō without drawing it.
A figure walked toward him under the pale lamplight, clad in standard Hidden Leaf's attire—dark, discreet, unremarkable at first glance. But it was the eyes that struck him; eyes not of lavender like the Hyūga, but piercing, crystalline azure, almost ethereal against the dim light.
She stopped a few paces ahead, tilting her head slightly, strands of midnight-blue hair falling over her cheek.
And then, with a voice smooth as a summer stream, she spoke, her eyes lit with wonder.
"Vaen'thar os… naem velun, sael'ta veyruin."
(I have seen you… restless truth, a blade of dawn.)
The words carved through the night, sharp and unfamiliar to anyone else—but Naruto froze, throat tightening. Because he understood them. Perfectly.
Before he could react, she smiled politely, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Good evening… Mr. Black Fox."
Without waiting for a reply, she walked past him, leaving behind only the faint scent of cool air and something older—something not from this world.
Naruto stood there, unmoving, the weight of her words and presence settling like a stone in his chest.
Aetherian.
Here, in the Leaf.
He glanced over his shoulder, but she was already gone.
For the first time that night, Naruto's mask cracked—not the one on his face, but the one in his mind.
And beneath it, the man with too many questions smiled faintly, muttering under his breath:
"The hell was that…?"