Report to Kakashi

Ringo arrived at the Hatake clan's door before dawn.

He knocked three times. The door did not open. He knocked three more times, with half again as much force as before. The door opened. It was not Kakashi. The door had opened by itself. It was unlocked.

Kakashi sat in the entryway, holding Make-Out Paradise open to somewhere in the middle, but his eyes were not on the book. They were on Ringo. Not his face. His chakra. Ringo's chakra was different from usual. Not weak—it was taut. Like a string stretched to its limit, not yet snapped, but already trembling.

"What happened?"

Ringo opened the card slot. Not for him to look at. For him to listen. He pressed the system recording's play button three times before hitting it correctly. Not because he was nervous—his fingers had been frozen all night and were not responding well. Maki's voice emerged from the card slot, echoing through Kakashi's empty entryway.

"The plan remains unchanged. At the start of the finals, release Shukaku. The target is the Third Hokage. The Sound Ninja will handle the barrier. The Sand Ninja will handle the frontal assault. The battlefield will be in the spectator stands."

"Heh heh—I'm really looking forward to seeing—what expression—Sarutobi-sensei will make—"

Kakashi closed Make-Out Paradise.

Not slowly—he snapped it shut. The spine cracked through the quiet room like a kunai piercing a wooden board.

"Orochimaru."

"Yeah."

"When did you record this?"

"Last night. Eleven o'clock. Maki met him in an alley. I didn't follow them in. The system recorded it automatically. Not me. The system determined that this conversation was worth saving."

Kakashi stood up. He shoved Make-Out Paradise into his ninja tool pouch, not with his usual lazy motion—quickly. So quickly that Ringo saw his fingers clamp down on the book's spine for a moment, though Kakashi himself did not seem to notice.

"You did the right thing. Not going straight to the Third was the right call. There were hidden sentries around the Sand Ninja quarters last night. Not Konoha's sentries. The Sand Ninja's own. If you had appeared outside the Hokage's office in the middle of the night, you'd be dead by now."

Ringo's Adam's apple bobbed. Not from lingering fear—from confirmation. Confirmation that his judgment last night had been right. It had not been cowardice. It had been correct.

"Come with me now. Not to the training ground. To the Hokage's office. Don't speak. Play the recording for the Third. I'll handle the rest."

The Hokage's office.

The Third Hokage's pipe gave off blue smoke in the morning air. Not the leisurely smoke it usually produced. This was thick. It gathered in a clump at the mouth of the pipe, scattered, then gathered again. Half of the Third's expression was hidden by the smoke, but the visible half was not surprise—it was heaviness. Not I never expected this—but it's finally here.

The recording ended. The office was quiet for about ten seconds. Not silence. The Third was smoking. One puff, two puffs; the embers in the pipe glowed twice before he set it down.

"Orochimaru. So he really came."

It was not a question. It was a statement. The Third had always known Orochimaru would return. The question had never been whether he would. Only when. Now. The time had come.

The Third looked at Ringo. Not at a genin. At an intelligence source.

"Can you fight?"

"I can."

"No. What I'm asking is, can you prepare to protect Konoha while taking the exam?"

Ringo did not answer immediately. Not from hesitation—he was thinking. Not because the Third's question was difficult. The answer had been with him all along. Since he stopped outside the Hyuga clan's gate last night, since he heard Maki say "Shukaku" in that alley, since the system brought up the recording function, the answer had already been there.

"I can. Not for the Hokage. For the people who are in Konoha with me."

The Third looked at him for three seconds.

Then he smiled. Not a loud laugh—just a slight curve of his lips, pipe smoke drifting from the corner of his mouth in an arc.

"Kakashi. This child is far more mature than you were at his age."

Kakashi leaned against the wall without answering. But his hand loosened around the spine of Make-Out Paradise.

"I'll handle this matter." The Third stood and walked to the window. Hokage Rock stood outside, the four carved faces gray in the morning light. "Tell no one. Continue preparing for your exam. The Sand Ninja and Orochimaru will not make a move before the finals. They need spectators, they need the daimyo, they need everyone present. So the day of the finals will be the battlefield. Until then, you are not an informant. You are not Anbu. You are an examinee. You have only one thing to do."

He turned around.

"Win."

Ringo walked out of the Hokage's office. The hallway was empty. No. There were people.

Naruto. Sasuke.

The two stood beside a pillar in the corridor, not leaning against it. They stood in front of it. Naruto had his arms folded over his chest, and his face did not wear its usual foolish grin. He was serious. Sasuke leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, chin slightly raised, like he was waiting for someone late.

"Kakashi told you to come," Ringo said.

"Yeah." Naruto lowered his arms. "We heard about the Sand Ninja and Orochimaru. We weren't eavesdropping. Kakashi told us to wait outside. He said Team 7 should know."

Sasuke did not speak. But he looked at Ringo. Not his usual cold glance. He looked at him. For two seconds, then looked away. Not disdain. Confirmation. Confirmation that Ringo was all right. Confirmation that he was still the same Ringo who had saved Naruto in the Land of Waves and kept watch through a night in the Forest of Death.

"Orochimaru came looking for me," Sasuke said. His voice was soft, but the hallway was so quiet that even the smell of pipe smoke could drift through it. "In the Forest of Death, he gave me a cursed seal. Then he said, 'You need power. Come find me.' I rejected him."

Ringo looked at Sasuke. Not his expression. The cursed seal on his neck. Two black fang marks, like two snakes coiled beneath his skin. It was not acting up. But it had not disappeared either. It was simply waiting.

"That wasn't rejection," Ringo said. "You chose this side. It's not that Orochimaru isn't strong. It's that Team 7 matters more than Orochimaru."

Sasuke did not answer. But his chin pulled back by a millimeter. Not lowering his head. An acknowledgment.

Naruto stepped forward and stood between the three of them. His fists clenched at his sides, not in anger. In excitement. The kind of excitement that came before a fight. But he did not smile. Not because he did not want to. Because he knew this was no joke.

"The Sand Ninja, Orochimaru, Shukaku, whoever it is. Team 7 won't fall. Because there are still two people behind us. Not Kakashi. Not Jiraiya. Not the old man Third. It's—" He looked at Sasuke, then at Ringo. "You two."

Ringo held out his hand.

Not for a handshake. A fist. The kind of fist he had bumped with Naruto on the bridge in the Land of Waves.

Sasuke looked at that fist. Then he held out his hand too. Not a fist. His palm. He placed it over Ringo's fist. Not just a touch. He covered it. Naruto pressed his own fist on top.

Three people. Three hands. In the hallway outside the Hokage's office. Not an oath. A promise. Not protect Konoha. But protect the people in Konoha. Not we'll win together. But we won't let anyone be taken from our side.

Naruto lowered his hand and turned toward the end of the corridor. Outside the window, Konoha's streets were waking up. Vegetable sellers pushed their carts, ninja ran across rooftops in the morning, and birds shook their wings on utility poles. Everything looked as ordinary as ever. But all three knew it. This street. These rooftops. These utility poles. The day after tomorrow, they might all be changed.

"The day after tomorrow. The finals," Naruto said. "It's not the end. It's the beginning."

Ringo did not answer. He lowered his head and looked at the card slot. The recording was still there. The stability fragments were still there. The sage technique fragments were still there. The respect fragments were still there. There were also twelve white cards, eight purple cards, six gold cards, and one orange card. And however many more would appear the day after tomorrow.

Not dropped by enemies. Given by the people he protected.

"The day after tomorrow," Ringo said. "It's not an exam. It's each of our own battles."

Naruto smiled. Not his usual foolish grin. A smile that said he understood. But still needed to smile anyway.

Sasuke did not smile. But the corner of his mouth moved. Not a sneer. He wanted to smile too, but it had been too long since he last had. He had forgotten how. So the corner of his mouth only moved once, then stopped.

But Ringo saw it.