Chapter 11
The cramped space below deck on the 'Sea Serpent' became their world for the next several days. It was a suffocating, claustrophobic existence, thick with the cloying sweetness of the 'spices' (likely illicit herbs or drugs, Ryuu suspected) stored in rough burlap sacks alongside the smell of brine, mildew, fish oil, and unwashed bodies.
The constant, rolling motion of the small vessel on the open sea was a new form of misery, inducing a low-grade nausea that never quite faded. Light filtered in only through the cracks around the main hatch and tiny, grime-coated portholes near the waterline, keeping the hold in perpetual twilight.
Kasumi insisted they remain below deck almost constantly. The one-eyed captain, gruffly named Kaito, had made it clear their passage was contingent on being invisible cargo.
His small, rough-looking crew eyed them with open suspicion whenever Ryuu or Kasumi had to briefly emerge for necessities, their gazes lingering on Ryuu's pale features and Kasumi's guarded demeanor.
They were clearly accustomed to minding their own business, but also to recognizing potential trouble or value. Kasumi's substantial payment had bought their passage, but likely not their loyalty if complications arose.
Their interactions were minimal. Kasumi bartered sparingly for stale water and hard biscuits from the ship's cook, supplementing it with the last of their own meager supplies. Sleep was difficult on the hard wooden planks, interrupted by the ship's creaking, the slap of waves against the hull, and the constant, underlying tension of their precarious situation.
Ryuu used the time productively, despite the discomfort. The enforced stillness was ideal for chakra control practice. He spent hours meditating, focusing on the leaf exercise mentally now, refining the steadiness of his internal flow.
He practiced the minute ice formations Kasumi had begun teaching him, trying to create tiny, near-invisible needles of ice on his fingertips in the darkness, letting them melt away instantly. The control required was immense, the progress slow.
He also observed Kasumi. In the close confines, her vigilance was even more apparent. She rarely seemed to sleep deeply, often sitting propped against the bulkhead, her eyes closed but her senses clearly alert, her chakra signature could barely felt even by him who was standing next to her.
She spent time meticulously maintaining her few kunai and the utility knife, sharpening them on a small whetstone she produced from her pack. She also reviewed the crude map she had drawn, occasionally adding notes or corrections based on the ship's perceived direction or the changing patterns of the waves she could likely feel through the hull.
Sometimes, in the dead of night, when the creaking of the ship and the snores of the crew were the only sounds, Ryuu would hear her whisper soft, fragmented phrases in that slightly different dialect he'd noticed before.
They weren't prayers, didn't sound like lullabies. More like… chants? Or perhaps fragments of sealing formulas? He couldn't understand the words, but the cadence felt ancient, deliberate.
Their journey was blessedly uneventful in terms of external threats. They saw no Kiri patrols, no other suspicious vessels. Kaito, despite his rough appearance, clearly knew these waters well, sticking to routes likely avoided by official traffic, using coastal fog banks and nighttime hours for concealment.
Ryuu suspected Kaito made this run regularly, smuggling goods between the Land of Water and the less heavily monitored stretches of the Land of Fire's coast.
After what felt like an eternity – perhaps five or six days by Ryuu's estimation – the motion of the ship changed. The rolling lessened, replaced by a gentler sway. The air filtering down the hatch lost some of its sharp, open-sea saltiness, replaced by the earthier scent of land, vegetation, and distant woodsmoke. They were approaching the coast.
Kasumi became even more tense, her hand rarely leaving the pouch containing her kunai. She instructed Ryuu in hushed tones.
"When we land, it will likely be night, away from any major port. We follow the captain's instructions precisely. Blend in. Speak only if spoken to. Our story remains the same: refugees traveling to Konoha. Understand?"
Ryuu nodded, his own small heart beginning to pound with anticipation and dread. The Land of Fire. Konoha. The final destination.
As predicted, the 'Sea Serpent' didn't approach a proper harbour. Under the cover of a moonless night, Kaito skillfully navigated the vessel into a small, hidden cove screened by tall cliffs and dense coastal forest. The anchor dropped with a muffled splash. A smaller rowboat was lowered.
"Alright, you two," Kaito grunted, peering down the hatch, his one eye glinting in the lantern light. "Your stop. Keep low, follow the path inland I marked for yer mother. And don't cause trouble near my drop point." He clearly wanted them gone as quickly and quietly as possible.
Kasumi exchanged one final look with the captain, then helped Ryuu into the waiting rowboat, manned by two silent, wary-looking crew members. Kasumi moved with fluid grace, settling beside Ryuu, her senses scanning the dark shoreline.
The rowboat pulled away from the 'Sea Serpent', which immediately began raising anchor, ready to disappear back into the night.
The row ashore was short, silent, punctuated only by the dip of oars and the gentle lap of water. They landed on a narrow strip of sandy beach hidden between rocky outcrops. The two crew members pointed towards a barely visible path leading inland, grunted, and immediately rowed back towards their ship, leaving Ryuu and Kasumi alone on the dark, unfamiliar shore.
The air here felt different. Warmer, drier than the perpetual dampness of the Land of Water. The scent of pine and dry earth filled Ryuu's nostrils. They were here. The Land of Fire.
"Come," Kasumi whispered, already moving towards the indicated path. "We need to put distance between ourselves and the coast before dawn. This area is likely watched."
Their final trek began. The terrain here was different – less marshy, more forested hills and dry riverbeds. Kasumi pushed the pace again, driven by the need to reach the relative anonymity of the country's interior. Ryuu, despite his exhaustion, felt a renewed surge of determination. This was the final leg.
They traveled for three more days, moving cautiously, living off the last of their scavenged supplies and whatever Kasumi could find locally. The signs of civilization became more frequent – wider trails, occasional plumes of smoke in the distance, the faint sound of logging operations. Kasumi became even more careful, ensuring they were never seen, skirting settlements widely.
On the morning of the fourth day after landing, they crested a ridge, and Kasumi stopped abruptly, her breath catching. Ryuu, coming up beside her, followed her gaze.
Below them, nestled in a vast, circular valley surrounded by lush forests, lay Konohagakure.
Even from this distance, it was unmistakable. The sheer scale of it dwarfed any settlement Ryuu had seen. Buildings spread out in a sprawling, organic pattern, dominated by the massive stone edifice carved into the cliff face overlooking the village – the Hokage Monument.
Four distinct faces stared out impassively, instantly recognizable even as tiny figures from afar. The raw power and history etched into the mountainside sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. This was the heart of a major shinobi power.
He tugged lightly on Kasumi's sleeve, pointing a small, gloved finger towards the mountain. "Kaa-san," he asked, pitching his voice with childish curiosity, "what is that? Big faces in the rock."
Kasumi followed his gaze, her own eyes lingering on the monument for a moment, a complex mix of awe and perhaps apprehension flickering across her features before settling back into guarded neutrality. "That, Ryuu," she said, her voice low, "is the Hokage Monument. It honors the leaders of this village, the Hokage."
"Hokage?" Ryuu echoed, tilting his head. "Like... like the Mizukage? In the Land of Water?" He used the title he should know, associating it with the concept of a village leader, carefully avoiding any indication he recognized the specific faces or knew Konoha's history.
Kasumi nodded curtly. "Similar. The Hokage is the strongest shinobi in Konoha, chosen to lead and protect the village and the Land of Fire." She scanned the faces briefly. "The First, the Second, the Third..." Her gaze lingered on the fourth, newest face, sharp-featured and distinct even from this distance. "...and the Fourth, the current Hokage. Minato Namikaze."
Minato Namikaze.
Kasumi saying the name confirmed it absolutely. Ryuu kept his face carefully blank, processing. Minato was Hokage. They had arrived, just before the critical date. October... roughly the 7th or 8th by his mental calculation, based on the journey's length and his own fourth birthday passing somewhere in the marshes. Naruto's birth, the Kyuubi attack, was only days away.
Konoha. It looked... peaceful from up here.
Orderly.
Strong.
A stark contrast to the fear-ridden villages and dangerous wilderness they had just traversed. But Ryuu knew the darkness that lurked beneath the surface – the political tensions, the hidden organizations, the simmering Uchiha resentment, the catastrophic event poised to happen in mere days.
Kasumi stared down at the village, her expression a mixture of awe, trepidation, and profound weariness. This was it. The place she had gambled everything to reach.
"We approach the main gate," she said finally, her voice low. "Directly. We present ourselves as refugees seeking asylum. We claim distant relation to a minor civilian family, weavers perhaps, perished during the war."
She glanced down at him. "Stick to the story. Refugees. Fleeing instability in the outer territories of Water Country. Nothing more."
"Yes mother."
Ryuu said solemnly, already having prepared mentally.
They descended towards the village, timing their arrival for mid-morning, when gate traffic would be steady but not overwhelming. As they approached the massive wooden gates, flanked by watchful Chunin guards in their standard green flak jackets, Ryuu felt the weight of countless eyes upon them.
Their travel-stained clothes, Kasumi's guarded posture, and his own unavoidable pallor and red eyes marked them instantly as outsiders.
Kasumi handled the initial questioning with practiced calm, presenting their carefully constructed story. The guards were professional but wary, taking their details, asking probing questions about their journey, their origins. Ryuu stayed silent, clinging to Kasumi's hand, projecting exhausted vulnerability.
One of the Chunin eyed them critically. "Yuki? Never heard of any weavers by that name."
"Distant branch," Kasumi replied smoothly. "Not shinobi. Lost everything in the coastal conflicts."
The Chunin seemed unconvinced but followed procedure, sending a runner into the village, likely to verify their story or summon higher authority. They were told to wait just inside the gate, under the watchful eyes of the guards.
Minutes stretched into an eternity. Ryuu felt exposed, vulnerable. What if Kasumi's name, or even the Yuki name itself, triggered an alert? What if Kiri spies were already embedded here?
Then, a figure approached from within the village, moving with quiet authority. Not an ANBU, but a Jonin, identifiable by his flak jacket and serious demeanor. He conferred briefly with the gate guards, then turned his attention to Kasumi and Ryuu. His eyes lingered on Ryuu for a moment, assessing, before focusing on Kasumi.
"Kasumi-san?" the Jonin asked, his voice polite but firm. "The Hokage wishes to see you. Please come with me."
Ryuu felt Kasumi tense beside him. The Hokage. Minato Namikaze himself. Had her name triggered something after all? Or was this standard procedure for refugees claiming distant Konoha ties?
"Of course," Kasumi replied, her voice steady despite the slight tremor Ryuu felt in her hand.
They were escorted through the bustling streets of Konoha. It was jarring after weeks of wilderness – the noise, the crowds, the sheer normality of people shopping, chatting, children playing.
Ryuu absorbed it all, his eyes wide, comparing the reality to his fragmented memories. He saw the Uchiha Police Force patrolling, their fans emblazoned proudly, a sight that sent a shiver down his spine. He saw stalls selling ramen, dumplings, ninja gear. He saw the Academy building, much larger than he'd imagined.
Their escort led them directly towards the towering Hokage building at the base of the monument. Inside, the atmosphere shifted, becoming quieter, more serious. Shinobi moved with purpose through the corridors. They were led up several flights of stairs to a waiting area outside a large set of double doors guarded by two stern-faced shinobi.
"Wait here," the Jonin instructed, before knocking and entering the office.
Kasumi stood stiffly, her hand resting protectively on Ryuu's shoulder. Ryuu could feel her anxiety radiating off her. This was the moment of truth.
After a few minutes, the Jonin emerged and beckoned them inside.
The Hokage office was large, bathed in sunlight from the panoramic window overlooking the village. Scrolls and documents were stacked neatly on a large wooden desk. And standing behind it, instantly recognizable, was Minato Namikaze.
He looked younger than Ryuu expected, perhaps mid-twenties, but his presence filled the room. His bright blue eyes were sharp, intelligent, assessing them calmly. He wore the Hokage robes over his standard Jonin attire.
Beside him stood an older figure Ryuu didn't immediately recognize – perhaps one of the village elders or advisors.
Minato offered a small, welcoming smile, though his eyes remained serious. "Welcome to Konoha," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "I am Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage." He gestured towards the woman beside him.
"Kasumi-san... it has been a long time. I didn't know if the name on the entry log was truly you."
Kasumi bowed deeply, pulling Ryuu down with her. "Hokage-sama," she murmured, her voice carefully respectful, betraying none of her shock or fear. "You... remember me?"
Minato's smile became slightly warmer, tinged with respect. "A Hokage remembers those who aid his village. 'Hyōjin' provided invaluable intelligence during a critical time in the war. We in Konoha do not forget such debts, nor the risks taken."
His gaze flickered briefly to Ryuu, assessing his pale features, his red eyes, the way he clung to Kasumi. "Though I admit, I did not expect to see you seeking refuge here, especially with a child."
Kasumi straightened slightly, meeting his gaze directly for the first time. "The situation in the Land of Water has become... untenable, Hokage-sama. For those like us." The implication was clear.
Minato nodded slowly, his expression turning grim. "We have been receiving similar reports. Increased Kiri aggression, hunter-nin operating far south, rumors of... purges." His eyes held sympathy, but also calculation. "You are Yuki, then? Both of you?"
Kasumi hesitated for only a fraction of a second. Lying now, directly to the Hokage who clearly knew her codename and likely her clan, was pointless, dangerous. "Yes, Hokage-sama."
"And the boy?" Minato's gaze softened slightly as he looked at Ryuu again.
"My son, Ryuu," Kasumi stated simply.
Minato studied Ryuu for a long moment, taking in the albinism, the red eyes, the unnatural stillness for a child his age. Ryuu met his gaze steadily, projecting cautious neutrality, acutely aware of the immense power and intellect behind those blue eyes.
"You seek asylum?" Minato asked Kasumi.
"Yes, Hokage-sama. We seek protection. A place where my son..." she paused, "...where we can live without fear of being hunted for our blood."
Minato tapped a finger on his desk, considering. Granting asylum to a Yuki survivor, especially one known to Kiri intelligence, carried risks.
It could provoke Kiri, strain relations.
But Konoha had a history of integrating powerful clans, of offering sanctuary (like the Uzumaki). And Kasumi was a proven asset, a Jonin-level kunoichi with a Kekkei Genkai. Her intel on the current Kiri situation could be vital. Plus, there was the debt owed.
"Konoha does not condone the persecution of bloodlines," Minato stated firmly. "Your past service is acknowledged. Asylum is granted, Kasumi-san, Ryuu-kun."
He smiled faintly at Ryuu. "You will be provided with lodging and basic necessities. You will, of course, be under observation initially – standard procedure. We will need a full debriefing on the situation in Water Country when you are rested."
He paused, his expression becoming more serious, leaning forward slightly. "Kasumi-san, your arrival is... timely. Things are tense here as well, in their own way." He glanced towards the window, then back at her. "My wife, Kushina, is expecting our first child. Any day now, in fact. Security is my utmost priority."
He looked directly at Kasumi, a silent question in his eyes. He knew her reputation, her skills. "Perhaps... perhaps your unique abilities could be of service, ensuring her protection during this vulnerable time? Discreetly, of course."
Ryuu felt Kasumi stiffen almost imperceptibly. Minato wasn't just granting asylum, he was immediately assessing her utility, subtly recruiting her. It was pragmatic, logical shinobi thinking.
Kasumi, understanding the implicit bargain – protection in exchange for loyalty and service – nodded slowly.
"If I can be of service to the Hokage who grants us sanctuary, I will," she replied formally.
"Excellent," Minato smiled, relief flickering in his eyes. "My aide will arrange your accommodations. Rest well. We will speak again soon."
As they were escorted out, Ryuu's mind was reeling. They were in. Accepted. Under the Hokage's protection. Kasumi's past connection had been the key.
And they had arrived just days before Kushina's due date – October 10th. The timing was perfect, almost unnervingly so. Kasumi might even be present at the secret birth location, potentially placing her directly in the path of Obito's attack.
This changed everything. His plan to subtly influence events suddenly had a direct vector. But the risks had also skyrocketed. Could Kasumi survive Obito? Could he subtly influence her actions, or Minato's? The Kyuubi attack was no longer a future event to mitigate, it was an imminent catastrophe they were walking directly into.
'Fuck.'
He thought, as the weight of the situation finally caught up to him.