Naruto: Burning Will

This so-called "mission" was more of a diplomatic performance than any real task. Judging by the personnel assigned, Konoha clearly wasn't treating it as a big deal.

"It's more about saving face for Sunagakure than anything else."

Konoha had gone out of its way to placate its unruly little brother. After suffering such a humiliating loss during the Chūnin Exams invasion, it was a miracle things hadn't devolved further. But it wasn't surprising that the two villages made peace quickly—their respective leaders had both been killed by the same man: Orochimaru. Two of the Five Great Nations fooled by one missing-nin. The losses were embarrassing enough, but the real wound was becoming the laughingstock of the shinobi world.

Still, Suna had less to lose. Their military had always been the weakest among the Five, and betrayal wasn't exactly new behavior for them. Being beaten back by Konoha hadn't surprised anyone. It was Orochimaru's betrayal that did the damage—allying with the former Leaf Sannin only to be used as pawns and discarded.

Mizuki glanced at the rest of the group. He had expected the trip to be uneventful, but this level of tedium was absurd. Hyūga Hiashi—head of the Hyūga clan—was quiet and formal, always keeping up appearances. There was an obvious gulf between him and Mizuki in rank and status. No casual conversation was going to bridge that.

The only other familiar face was Sarutobi Asuma, whom Mizuki could exchange a few words with now and then. But Yūhi Kurenai? They'd barely spoken before. She was polite, but distant. And more importantly, Mizuki didn't trust her. She was a genjutsu specialist, and genjutsu users were the worst kind to let your guard down around.

"A teammate you can't trust is more dangerous than an enemy."

No matter how subtle, illusion-users had little tells—micro-expressions, unconscious gestures, the odd flow of their chakra. Most wouldn't notice, but Mizuki, with his training in sealing and chakra control, was sensitive to such things. And that made him uncomfortable around her.

As for the two Suna captives—Temari and Gaara—they didn't speak a word. Understandably. Not even a full day had passed since the alliance was re-affirmed. Mizuki wasn't about to have a heart-to-heart with the kids of the man Konoha just helped get killed. And with both of them nearly ten years younger than him, they had nothing in common anyway.

Gaara, wrapped in sand as always, made Mizuki's skin itch just looking at him.

"Seriously... dragging around that much sand all day? Has the kid ever heard of bathing?"

Mizuki didn't catch any foul odor, but he still didn't want to be near him. Gaara gave off the same vibe as a bomb with a cracked casing. And the worst part? That sand armor he wore probably hadn't been washed in weeks.

Temari at least looked presentable—tall, blonde, clearly strong—but her hair was tied in two absurd puffs and her clothes were dusty and clunky.

"What a waste. A decent face, ruined by bad fashion sense."

With such an unsociable group, Mizuki had little to do but stew in boredom.

"Should've brought a scroll to study… or even a couple of trashy ninja novels. Anything."

They walked in uncomfortable silence for most of the day. At dusk, they finally made camp by a riverbank. Three tents were pitched, and the six of them gathered around a small campfire for dinner.

For the first time all day, Mizuki relaxed. He wasn't a gourmand, but eating was always a highlight—especially when the food was made by someone he liked. He took out the large, elaborate bento Tsubaki had packed for him, unfolded the lid, and dug into the steaming assortment of sushi with delight. The others gave him strange looks.

Kurenai finally couldn't keep quiet.

"Isn't that bento a bit... extravagant for a mission?" she asked, frowning slightly. "What if it hampers your mobility in combat?"

Mizuki paused mid-bite, surprised she spoke. "Combat readiness? That's what we've got these two for." He gestured to Temari and Gaara with his chopsticks—Temari rolled her eyes; Gaara didn't react at all.

Honestly, if not for a specific reason, Mizuki wouldn't have been chosen for this mission. Escorting high-value captives required higher-ranked shinobi. With Hiashi here, clearly the mission had symbolic weight. Mizuki's presence likely had more to do with availability and his recent service during the invasion.

Kurenai, ever serious, didn't let up. "Even if this is a peacekeeping gesture, we still need to be alert. Those two are our leverage with Sunagakure."

"Are you two planning to run away?" Mizuki asked dryly, turning to Temari and Gaara.

Temari gave him an exasperated glance and shook her head. Gaara didn't even look up.

"See?" Mizuki grinned. "They're on their best behavior."

In truth, both sides wanted peace now more than ever. Orochimaru's betrayal had left Suna isolated and weakened. They had no reason to cause trouble. And Konoha, still reeling from the Hokage's death, needed stability.

Bandits? Rogue ninja? None had dared to appear so far.

Kurenai fell quiet, clearly dissatisfied. But Mizuki wasn't finished.

"And anyway," he added with a smirk, "this bento was made by Tsubaki. Full of love. What about you? Never made one for Asuma?"

Kurenai flushed. "W-Why would I cook for Asuma? This is a mission. He has nothing to do with it."

"Oh? But he's bought flowers from Tsubaki's shop several times. Didn't give them to you?" Mizuki feigned confusion. "That's weird…"

"Twisted love. Deny it all you want, everyone sees it."

Still, something had been bothering Mizuki since Kurenai brought up Sand Ninja.

"How did your brother, Kankurō, escape?" he asked Temari. "He was pretty banged up when I last saw him."

Temari blinked. "Jōnin Maki found us during the retreat. He carried Kankurō out."

Mizuki nodded. That made sense. Suna's emphasis on elite shinobi meant they'd prioritize saving puppet users like Kankurō. They were valuable assets.

"I wonder how Moonlight Hayate's doing…"

Each passing day made it less likely Hayate would wake. Physically he should've healed by now—if he hadn't woken, then his life force must've been nearly gone.

"If only Tsunade-sama were here..." Mizuki thought aloud. "She'd know what to do."

Hayate had been a respected jōnin. Sarutobi Asuma, Kurenai—they'd all known him. It wasn't surprising that they were concerned.

"By the way," Mizuki added, "how's Asuma's arm? He got hit pretty badly yesterday."

"It's fine," Kurenai said, this time without hesitation. "Just superficial. He'll heal in a few days."

"That's good." Mizuki popped the last sushi into his mouth.

"Finally, I managed to finish eating without being scolded."

He packed away his bento neatly, then leaned back against a tree, eyes closed, listening to the crackle of the fire.

"Everyone else had dry rations. Hiashi and Hinata ate rice crackers. No wonder Kurenai finds me obnoxious… too flashy. But hey, in a world where guys like Deidara call explosions 'art,' what's wrong with enjoying good food?"

The last of the group finished eating. Then—

"Cough. Cough."

Mizuki glanced over. Hyūga Hiashi, of all people, was about to speak.

"I've not expressed my gratitude properly. Hinata was under your guidance… I thank you both deeply."

Mizuki raised a brow.

"You're thanking us both? It makes sense for Kurenai—she's Hinata's jōnin sensei. But me? I was just a teacher at the Academy. Talk about formal…"

Visit patreon.com/Morgansenpai to get 30+ chapters