After Naruto returned to his own time, he could not help feeling a little regretful.
He stood atop the altar in the underground palace, the remnants of Minato Namikaze's sealing array beneath his feet.
The seal had closed again. Purple runes flowed slowly across the stone, binding the power of the dragon vein deep within the earth once more.
He looked down at his palm. The lingering warmth of golden chakra still remained between his fingers, but that journey through time was over.
He had failed to obtain Minato Namikaze's and Kushina Uzumaki's techniques.
Still, it did not really matter.
Naruto clenched his fist, suppressing that trace of regret. He had his own path to walk.
The paths of those who came before him could only serve as references, not definitive answers.
He, Naruto Uzumaki, would have his own techniques and his own path.
After leaving the underground palace, Naruto began wandering through the ruins of Rōran.
Yellow sand still filled the sky, the crumbling walls remained in ruins, and the wind whistled mournfully through empty window frames.
He walked along the cracked streets and past stone pillars half-buried in sand, his gaze sweeping over every corner.
He found neither Sara nor her descendants.
That red-haired girl, the girl whose tears had slipped from the corners of her eyes as she sang in the underground palace, the girl he had led by the wrist through one empty street after another, was no longer here.
Neither were her descendants.
The entire site of Rōran was deserted. Apart from windblown sand and ruins, there was nothing.
Of course. With Rōran reduced to this, how could anyone possibly live here?
Naruto gave a self-mocking smile.
What was he expecting?
That Sara would still be alive?
That the red-haired girl would still be waiting