Heat soaked into the marrow of Nagi Island, a wet stagnation that slowed every movement.
Fine spray from the coast cinched around my skin; my black tank top stayed damp, a second layer against my ribs. Stretching into high white scars overhead, the cirrus clouds failed to mask the sun, which slammed into the volcanic stone until the grey shards glinted like molten iron. The air stalled, humid and static. The island held its breath, resisting every attempt to circulate.
Navigating the dirt path leading back toward Shinreijima, the forest's rhythmic strobing of fir shadows and blinding light interfered with my depth perception until the trees finally tapered into the town perimeter. In the golden-ochre undergrowth of ferns and brittle bramble, a flash of green broke the pattern of the brush.
"Look!" I pointed, my fingers hooking into a heavy bunch of wild fruit spilling from a broad-leafed plant. "Bananas. Wild ones."
Naruto pivoted, the dark netting of his mesh tank top clinging to his sun-kissed shoulders. Sweat pooled in the mesh before trailing down his spine in erratic lines. He grinned, his bare arms gleaming. "Sweet! I'm eating that right now!"
I plucked one and peeled it; the interior didn't offer creamy fruit. Instead, rows of hard, black seeds strung through the flesh like tiny iron beads. Gritty. Alien. I hadn't expected the interior to be so hostile. Naruto, lacking my hesitation, snapped his jaw down on a mouthful.
CLACK.
A spray of seeds shot from his mouth like shrapnel—one pinging Idate squarely in the shoulder. Naruto spat the rest into the dirt, seeds crunching under his sandals as he waved a hand at the half-eaten mess.
"Stupid fruit! This is why I like ramen!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the wind-swept spruce.
I elbowed him, a small smirk tugging at my lips despite the humidity. "I thought you liked ramen because you were simple."
"Simple is good!" he declared, flailing his bronzed arms. "Simple means easy to understand!"
"Yes," I replied, pushing my glasses back up the grit-slicked bridge of my nose. "Why use many word when few word do trick."
Naruto's face froze, his expression dropping into a void of pure confusion while he tried to process the grammar. "...what?"
I didn't explain, continuing to walk as the path transitioned from packed ash to the stone of the town outskirts.
We reached the edge of Shinreijima, pausing near the Crouching Tiger Inn. The temperature dipped inside the fir shadows. Sweet conifer resin turned metallic in the air, the sweetness breaking apart under the sulfurous bite of steam vents rising from the caldera. Leaning against a weathered wooden beam softened by age and salt, I waited for the tremor in my hands to stop—a lingering cost of the Stillwater jutsu.
Idate dropped to one knee, his breath catching halfway in as he wiped grit from his forehead. His calf wraps were saturated with marsh water and stained a dull, peaty brown. He looked at the raccoon-dog in his arms; his legs tried to lock and failed, his posture revealing the fatigue debt of the chase.
"Thank you," Mirin said, his voice thick with relief. He reached out to take Bunbun. Heat radiated between them; the small animal panted, a rapid thrum against Mirin's chest. "I can't tell you how much this means. The Spectacular is nothing without him."
Bunbun let out a yawn that sounded remarkably human, his tiny furred legs stretching against Mirin's chest. "This was fun and all, but I'm gonna go take a nap. See ya later, guys!"
POOF.
Ozone pushed everything else out, flaring before it stalled, sharp at the back of my tongue. Naruto stretched, his biceps flexing under the dark mesh. "Man… that was a workout."
Mirin stepped back, his gratitude sharpening into something transactional. He didn't offer rest. "You're making good time, but the Wagarashi runner is already moving toward the northern slopes," he noted, his voice flat. He reached for a massive woven basket resting nearby—a container overflowing with rice that smelled of sweet, mirin-laced grains.
Mirin's knuckles went white as he heaved the basket forward, his grip shifting as the balance tilted. He released it; the weight fell.
A sharp fiber-creak cut the air as the basket hit Idate's chest—THUD. The grains shifted inside, a dry, sliding sound. The mass stacked onto his spine, the density of the grain feeling wrong for its volume.
His neck tightened first—then the rest of him followed. His shoulders gave before his legs could catch up, folding inward under the force. His breath hitched—sharp, immediate. The straps sank into his shoulders, sinking into the red, wet skin.
"Here's your next task," Mirin added, normalizing the burden with a tilt of his head.
Idate's knees buckled. He fell forward, his sole sliding across the loose ash of the road before he caught himself against stone still radiating the day's heat. Even after he regained his balance, his knees didn't stop vibrating. Naruto rushed to steady him, his own sweat-slicked hands sliding against wicker that scraped his palms. Naruto's wrists locked, the mesh of his shirt rasping as the load collapsed into their combined frame.
"I'll... h-handle... it," Idate managed, the words fractured by the mass against his diaphragm.
I reached up to adjust my glasses, but my fingers were still twitching. I missed the bridge, my hand fumbling against my cheek. The treeline split into a double image; I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the spruce and fir to snap back into one. The heat radiating off the stone road felt like a physical push.
As I steadied myself, my hand drifted to the black pouch on my left thigh. I tapped the cold, hard curve of Orochimaru's Void Ring, the subtle, latent pull vibrating against my skin. It seemed to harmonize with the island's low-frequency volcanic thrum.
The ring's hum persisted, an oily vibration that competed with the building pressure in my ears. I couldn't tell if the ringing was internal or the barometer finally breaking. I glanced upward; high-level clouds had thickened into a heavy, veiled ceiling, turning the sunlight a bruised, unnatural grey. Ozone and wet minerals pushed everything else out. The air sealed in, and my breath cut short before it filled.
The Modoroki Shrine remained a grey blur against a sky that refused to break.