The sixth day out of the village, afternoon.
The smell on the wind had changed.
Salt.
In six days, the road had changed three times. Dirt gave way to stone, stone to this stretch, and the trees on either side grew shorter as they went, clinging one by one to the slopes.
Farther on, the slopes flattened, and the roadside grass bent with the wind, all pointing toward the sea.
Wheel ruts began to appear in the road, two deep tracks running toward the coast.
Sky and sea met in the distance, a hazy gray line along their seam.
Mist rose off the sea and crept inland along the ground, advancing a little, then stopping.
Waterbirds skimmed the surface, called twice, then wheeled back.
Naruto tipped his head back to follow them and nearly walked into Kiyoshi's shoulder ahead of him.
"What's that smell...?"
No one answered.
He sniffed twice, accepted it, and kept walking.
Sakura settled into an even pace in the vanguard and tightened her backpack straps another notch.
Sasuke slowed half a beat, scanned the low woods, then looked ahead again.
Tazuna walked beside the load. The questions and answers of the past few days had dwindled to nods and shakes of his head.
His pace, though, had quickened a little. The carrying pole bobbed as he kept close.
At a fork, he stopped, looked to the left, then led the group down the right-hand road.
Once they turned, he walked faster still.
He knew this road.
Kiyoshi had smelled it too.
Sweat, wood, dry rations-those smells had hung over them for six days. This one on the wind was new.
Something beyond the mission had come calling on the wind.
Kakashi remained diagonally behind them as usual, his position unchanged.
His hand rested on his shoulder