Beneath the Moonlight...

Phantom Branch Village.

The once-bustling, restless base was now shrouded in a heavy, oppressive silence. As Kamui's distortion faded, Obito, Haku, Fu, and Tie Xin, who had received emergency treatment, appeared in the central plaza, along with Zhua, who was gravely wounded and near death, and the unconscious Shuoyue.

The survivors looked at the horrific scene: their leader, unconscious, blood still streaming from the corners of his eyes; the members of the "Ten Branches," almost all injured and looking utterly drained. And when they learned of the tragic sacrifice of Uchiha Lian of the "Mirror" Branch, everyone fell silent.

Victory? No. This was more like a brutal struggle to survive, bought with the blood of one's closest kin—a sight so harrowing it left them unable to breathe.

The medical team hurried over and took charge of the wounded. Haku forced herself to stay on her feet and refused immediate treatment. Her eyes never left Shuoyue, who had been gently laid on a stretcher, eyes closed and face pale as paper.

Over the next few days, Phantom Branch Village carried on under a pall of gloom. Obito temporarily took command, stabilizing the situation, tending to the wounded, and strengthening the defenses. Orochimaru plunged into his laboratory, trying to use his skills to save Tie Xin and Zhua.

Everyone knew that after this battle, the Allied Shinobi Forces had been all but crippled, with devastating losses among their strongest fighters. The death of Shikamaru Nara, and the horrific treatment of his corpse, had dealt the Allied Shinobi Forces a devastating psychological blow. They had no chance of mounting another effective assault for years.

Yet there was not the slightest hint of joy in the village. An invisible weight of grief and uncertainty hung over everyone. And it all stemmed from one person, who had shut himself away completely—Uchiha Sakuya.

Ever since waking, he had locked himself in the innermost room and refused to eat, drink, or see anyone. A chilling chakra and a deathly silence filled the room day after day. Every so often, they heard a low growl, suppressed to the breaking point like that of a wounded beast, followed by the sound of something being smashed.

He was no longer the cold, powerful leader. He was more like a lone wolf trapped in a cage of despair, licking his mortal wounds.

The core members of the Sasuga were deeply worried. They feared for Shuoyue's state of mind, and they feared even more that the village would lose its direction.

At an informal meeting, the atmosphere heavy with tension, everyone exchanged glances, but no one dared approach the closed door.

"...This can't go on." At last, Fu, still wrapped in bandages, broke the silence in a small voice. "Someone has to... go check on him."

"Who?" Obito's voice, muffled by his mask, carried a hint of weariness and helplessness. "Right now, he's like a keg of explosives, ready to go off at the slightest touch. Whoever goes could..."

Everyone's gazes wandered uneasily until, at last, they slowly and unanimously settled on one person.

Nadeshiko Haku.

She sat quietly in a corner, her face still pale, her ice-blue eyes filled with a sorrow and worry that would not fade. She had lost the Three-Tails and was weak, but her gaze never strayed from the direction of Shuoyue's room.

Feeling everyone's eyes on her, Haku froze for a moment, then lowered her head and clutched the hem of her clothes. She knew why they were all looking at her. In the entire Sasuga organization, if anyone could make Shuoyue lower his guard even a little right now, perhaps... it was only her. Not because of her strength, but because of the faint, indefinable bond between them.

She said nothing. After a moment's silence, she slowly but firmly nodded.

Late that night, the moonlight spilled across the silent hallway like liquid silver.

Haku carried a bowl of rice porridge and some water. Taking a deep breath and gathering her courage, she gently pushed open Shuoyue's door.

It wasn't locked. Or perhaps the person inside, deep down, was waiting for something too.

The room was a mess, with fragments of furniture scattered everywhere and deep scratches gouged into the walls. The overpowering smell of alcohol—who knew where he had gotten it—and the stench of blood mingled in the air, making it hard to breathe.

Shuoyue was curled up in the darkest corner of the room, his back to the door, his body trembling slightly. He wore only a thin shirt, his long hair hanging in disarray. He had drawn himself into a ball as if trying to hide away. The cold, powerful aura he usually carried had vanished without a trace, replaced by a profound sorrow and despair so overwhelming it threatened to drown anyone who came near.

At the sound of the door opening, his body stiffened. He let out a hoarse, low growl. "Get out!"

His voice held none of its usual cold authority. All that remained was the vulnerability and resistance of a wounded beast.

Haku's heart clenched, pain spreading through her. She didn't leave. Instead, she gently closed the door, set the tray aside, and cautiously approached him, one step at a time.

"It's me, Shuoyue." Her voice was as soft as moonlight.

Shuoyue trembled even harder, but he didn't shout again. He only buried his face deeper between his knees.

Haku walked over to him and slowly crouched down. The moonlight through the window fell just right, illuminating his curled-up figure and several empty sake bottles beside him.

She saw the back of his neck, pale and exposed, streaked with dried blood and tears. She heard his broken sobs, suppressed with all his might.

In that moment, the coldhearted leader, the vengeful demon, the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan... all of it disappeared.

All she saw was a fragile, broken man who had lost his only remaining family and been crushed beneath an immense weight of grief and pain.

Haku's eyes reddened at once. Without hesitation, she reached out and, as gently as she could, tentatively wrapped her arms around his trembling body from behind.

Shuoyue shuddered and instinctively tried to pull away, but Haku held him tight without squeezing, her arms a gentle embrace he couldn't refuse.

"It's all right... Shuoyue... It's all right..." She rested her cheek lightly against his cold back, her voice breaking as she awkwardly comforted him again and again. "Go ahead and cry... Don't hold it in... I'm here..."

Her embrace and gentle voice seemed to shatter the last wall of ice around Shuoyue's heart.

His rigid body suddenly went slack. The sobs he had held back for so long finally broke free, turning into uncontrollable, heart-wrenching sobs!

Like a lost child, he trembled in her arms as he wept, tears and snot streaming down his face. His hot tears quickly soaked Haku's sleeve.

"Lian... Lian... Ahhh... It's my fault... I got him killed... I was useless..." he cried incoherently, his voice filled with endless guilt, pain, and despair.

Haku said nothing. She only held him tighter and gently patted his back, letting his tears soak her clothes, letting the pain pass into her through his trembling body. She knew that any words would be hollow just then. He needed an outlet, an embrace that wouldn't laugh at his vulnerability and could hold all his sorrow.

The moonlight fell quietly on the two of them, their shadows stretching long, as if they would merge into one.

After an unknown amount of time, Shuoyue's sobs gradually softened, becoming broken, intermittent sniffles before finally fading away. Overwhelmed by grief and exhaustion, he fell into a deep sleep in Haku's warm embrace. His brow remained furrowed, but his breathing had grown much steadier.

Haku carefully supported him, letting him rest against her so he could sleep a little more comfortably. She looked down at the pale, fragile face in her arms, still marked by tear tracks even in sleep. Her ice-blue eyes filled with a tenderness and heartache beyond words.

She gently brushed aside the disheveled hair stuck to his forehead by his tears, then tenderly traced his closed eyelids with her fingertips—behind them were the eyes his younger brother had given his life for.

After hesitating for a moment, she slowly lowered her head and pressed an exceedingly gentle kiss, salty with tears, to his cold lips.

It lasted only an instant.

Pure as moonlight, it carried boundless comfort and a hint of tenderness, quietly taking root, that had no place in this cruel world.

She didn't leave. Holding him, she leaned against the cold wall and warmed his chilled body with her own. Beneath the moonlight, they slept in each other's arms, like two little beasts huddling together in a blizzard, licking each other's wounds.

Outside, all was silent. Only the cold moonlight silently watched over the brief, fragile peace in the ruins.

But perhaps only the moonlight had witnessed the girl's feelings, so plainly laid bare...