Kakashi Pov:
When Kurenai said, "go for a walk with her," I didn't realize that walk would end with me being halfway talked into swimming.
Swimming. Me. Hatake Kakashi.
The man who dodges emotional vulnerability better than kunai in the dark.
Yeah.
But let's back up a little.
Viola—though she sometimes went by Violet—was full of contradictions.
Former princess of Dressrosa.
Sister of the ex-king who, unfortunately, teamed up with a man like Doflamingo.
She wasn't exactly born a villain, but she'd stood on the wrong side once. We all had someone like that in our past, right?
What mattered was that she'd defected.
Not because she was weak.
Because she was done watching monsters hurt innocent people.
Naruto and the others had fought her and Senor Pink. The result?
A weird mix of victory, respect, and diplomatic nap time.
And somewhere after that—between their shared goals and Naruto's chaos—they brought her along.
Now, here she was.
Walking next to me.
"You don't talk much, do you?" she said, stepping over a mossy stone with practiced grace.
"I do," I replied, stuffing my hands into my pockets, "when I've got something interesting to say."
"You've got plenty interesting to say. You just hide it behind that cool-guy act."
I quirked an eyebrow. "You think I'm hiding something?"
"I think you're hiding everything."
She smiled at me, and… it wasn't flirtatious. Not exactly.
It was warm. Familiar. The kind that told you, I've seen the world's worst, and I know what haunted eyes look like.
I'd seen that smile before.
In a mirror.
We reached the lake where Maya had been earlier. Still as glass. A soft breeze rustled the leaves. Water shimmered in moonlight like it had just finished reading a love poem and wasn't ready to let go of the feeling.
Viola walked to the edge, took off her shoes, and dipped her feet in.
"I used to come to places like this when I needed to remember who I was," she said.
"Before or after the revolution?" I asked.
She chuckled. "During. After. Always. You can't survive in Doflamingo's shadow without pieces of yourself breaking. But you… you don't seem broken."
"I'm just held together with stronger duct tape," I said lightly.
She laughed again. Real, genuine.
Then she looked at me over her shoulder. "Join me?"
I blinked. "In what?"
She kicked a splash of water at me. "Swimming, genius."
"…I'm wearing full gear."
"So? Ninja, remember?"
She had a point.
I didn't dive in dramatically. That's not my style.
I walked in. One step at a time, letting the water wash over me like a baptism I wasn't sure I deserved.
She swam circles around me, hair like dark silk in the moonlight. "You don't look like a guy who swims for fun."
"Probably because I don't."
"What do you do for fun, Kakashi?"
"Save the world. Read questionable literature. Pretend I'm mysterious."
She floated beside me, close enough that I could smell the faint floral scent of her shampoo.
"And love?"
I blinked. "What about it?"
"Do you… still believe in it?"
That hit harder than any jutsu.
I looked away.
"…I don't know. Belief is easy. Trusting that it'll come for me… that's harder."
She reached out and touched my hand. Just lightly. Not a grip. Just contact.
"Maybe it already has," she said. "Maybe it's just waiting for you to stop pretending you don't deserve it."
I didn't answer.
Not because I didn't want to.
But because—for the first time in years—I didn't have a comeback.
The water was cold.
But her presence was warm.
And maybe… just maybe… I was starting to thaw.
-----------------------
Naruto Pov:
Okay, first off—if you ever get invited to a spooky ceremonial house in the middle of an island by a pink-haired grandma who squints like she's judging your entire life… just know it's going to be a weird day.
Izaya (a.k.a. Pink-Haired Squintmaster Supreme) shuffled into her home like a boss-level NPC, leaning on a crooked walking staff that looked like it had fought and won against five trees and a lightning bolt. Her house smelled like old incense, prophecy dust, and just a hint of dramatic backstory.
We were offered seats on floor cushions that felt like they'd been stuffed with ancient secrets and disappointment. Maya—the priestess, the stressed-out love interest, and also probably one emotional sneeze away from fainting—sat beside us with this super serious look.
Lacos stood behind her like a loyal bodyguard-slash-ex-boyfriend who hadn't quite figured out his role in this group project. The dude looked like he benched tree trunks for fun and didn't understand the word "vacation."
Anyway, after we sat down, Izaya began her tale of doom.
And boy, it was a tale.
"So, uh," I said, halfway through her story, "lemme get this straight: a legendary sword, made by some immortal guy, was gifted to three princes who immediately used it to impress a girl?"
Izaya squinted. "Correct."
"And then they started a civil war over the girl?"
"Yes."
"Which caused so much death and destruction that the sword ate the bad vibes like some evil chakra sponge?"
"Exactly."
"And the girl sacrificed herself to stop them, and the princes sealed the sword out of guilt using magical orbs given by the same immortal who probably should've seen this mess coming?"
Izaya didn't answer.
I turned to Kiba. "Okay, but like, why does every ancient magical weapon come with guaranteed emotional damage and a body count?"
Kiba shrugged. "No warranty, I guess."
Maya leaned forward, clearly not amused by our very reasonable skepticism.
"It's not a joke," she said. "Saga—my fiancé—found the sword years later during a pirate attack. He was trying to protect me, and... it took him. The sword possessed him."
She paused for drama. I had to give it to her—she had the whole tragic backstory energy down pat.
"He turned an entire Marine dojo into his army. They worship him now. His power is growing with every passing hour, and when the red moon rises in three days, it will become unstoppable. He will become darkness itself."
"Whoa, whoa, hold up," I said. "You mean that guy with the eyeliner and the edgy trench coat? The one who growled at my clone like he was auditioning for the lead in 'Moody Pirate: The Musical'?"
"Yes," she said, straight-faced.
I leaned back, arms behind my head, grinning.
"Don't worry about it."
Everyone blinked.
Maya blinked. Izaya blinked. Even Lacos, who looked like blinking required approval from a battle council, blinked.
"You're not taking this seriously," Maya snapped.
"Oh, I am," I said. "It's just... we've seen way worse."
"I don't think you understand how dangerous this sword is!"
"I do," I said, raising a finger. "It's dangerous, sure. But 'world-ending'? Nah. That title's already taken by a sword made by the Sage of Six Paths, capable of splitting realities and erasing entire timelines. This sword? Seven stars? It's barely a three-star Yelp review on the apocalypse scale."
Shikamaru chimed in with a yawn, "We already did the 'evil sword corrupting a good guy' arc back in the Elemental Nations. At this point, it's more of a side quest."
Lacos crossed his arms. "You guys are really confident about this."
"Incredibly so," I replied. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it's serious. But we've got options. Plans. And snacks."
Maya was now pacing, which, considering her role as the 'descendant of the sealing priestess,' felt very on-brand.
"I'll do it," she said suddenly. "If you can just retrieve the sword, I'll sacrifice myself to seal it—"
"Nope," I interrupted. "Hard pass."
"What?!"
"We don't do the whole 'tragic noble sacrifice' thing," I said, waving her off. "That's not how we roll."
Naruto Rule #4: Always save the day without losing anyone.
Naruto Rule #5: If you must sacrifice something, make it Sasuke's shampoo budget.
Maya gaped like I'd sprouted a second head. Izaya mumbled something about "youths these days," and Lacos looked like he wanted to face-palm into next week.
"We'll get the sword," I said confidently. "We'll de-curse your fiancé, save the dojo, and throw in a couple of hugs if we're feeling generous."
Maya crossed her arms, clearly not convinced.
"I still think you're underestimating the threat."
"Oh, I'm sure it's tough," I said with a grin. "But so are we. And unlike that sword… we don't need a red moon to be awesome."
Cue dramatic breeze blowing through the open window.
I may have timed it with a wind-style jutsu for effect.
Shikamaru sighed. "You practiced that, didn't you?"
"A little," I said, totally not ashamed.