Naruto : Infinite Buff

Amatsu appeared in the hollow with a flash, his body flickering from one shadow to the next, leaving only a faint afterimage in his wake. The damp air clung to his skin, but his mind was sharp, calculating, focused. He scanned the dim interior, his eyes falling on Higanbana.

She was curled up in the corner, small and fragile, her long black hair tangled around her like a dark veil. The soft rise and fall of her chest indicated she was asleep, but her posture suggested it wasn't a peaceful sleep. Her body was stiff, every muscle taut, as if she had been waiting in that same position. Her eyes were closed, but there was a hint of tension even in her slumber.

Amatsu didn't pause. He moved toward her without a sound, crouching down beside her. Her fragile frame, curled tightly against the cold earth, looked as though it might crumble under the weight of the world. It made him wonder for the briefest of moments—how much longer could she keep this up?

With a flick of his wrist, he reached out and gently shook her shoulder, just enough to rouse her from her restless slumber.

"Higanbana."

Her eyes fluttered open, the soft glow of crimson peeking through her lashes, still heavy with exhaustion. At first, there was confusion, then recognition. She blinked, as if she were still trying to understand the reality of the moment. When her gaze met his, there was a soft flicker of hope in them—hope that he was back, hope that he was done, hope that the wait was over.

"Brother-Amatsu…" Her voice was small, barely a whisper. "Are you done with your training?"

"Are you finished?"

Her question hung in the air, soft and fragile, like a thread pulling at the tension between them. She had been waiting, perhaps without even realizing it, for him to return, for him to finish whatever it was that kept him away. But Amatsu didn't answer. There was no point in speaking about his training. There was no time for it.

His gaze didn't soften.

It never did.

"It's time," he said, his voice low, calm, yet edged with cold finality. "Now, it's time to decide our survival."

Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion. She sat up slowly, her hands trembling slightly as she wiped sleep from her eyes. The weight of his words hung over her like a cloud, and she could sense it—the unspoken weight, the urgency in his tone.

"Decide… our survival?" she repeated quietly, her voice still filled with a quiet uncertainty. "What do you mean?"

Amatsu didn't wait for her to finish. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, held hers for a brief moment before he turned, pacing toward the small pile of their scattered belongings.

"This is our only chance," he said, voice steady, detached. "A full attack. We strike first, or we die."

The words were blunt, unyielding, yet they carried the heavy burden of the truth. There was no room for hesitation. There was no time to second-guess. Amatsu had seen enough of the world to know—survival required action, and it required it now.

Higanbana's gaze flickered toward him, her body still slightly hunched, the weight of the moment beginning to sink in. But there was something else in her eyes too—fear. A quiet, barely contained terror that tugged at the edges of her resolve.

"Amatsu…" she murmured softly, looking at him, her voice trembling just slightly. "I—I'm scared."

For a brief moment, there was no response from him. His gaze remained impassive, his mind already elsewhere, thinking, calculating. But then, he spoke, his words sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

"You don't have time to be scared," he said. "Get your things. We leave in moments."

The urgency in his voice didn't allow for any more questions, and Higanbana, though her hands were trembling, began to move. She gathered her belongings quickly, her movements frantic but methodical, as though the gravity of the situation was just beginning to sink in. She knew what Amatsu meant—this was their only chance. And once they left, there would be no turning back.

Higanbana met his eyes one last time, her crimson gaze filled with a mixture of sadness and resolve. She didn't speak again. She didn't need to.

---

The rain lashes against Amatsu's face, cold and unrelenting. Water slides over his skin, tracing the sharp edges of his jaw, his chin, down his collarbone. His black hair, heavy and soaked, clings to his shoulders, dripping with each passing moment.

His eyes are locked on the sky, dark and endless. The clouds churn above, thick and suffocating. The world around him fades into a blur of grey and silver, the horizon vanishing into the downpour.

His reflection breaks in the puddle at his feet. The image warps with each drop, the sharp angles of his face flickering through the surface. Dark eyes, cold. Thin lips. A straight nose, unmoving. Dragon-like brows, carved into his face with the weight of a hundred lifetimes. The same face he wore in his previous life.

The rain falls, and his gaze doesn't waver.

He stands still, every inch of him rooted in the storm, the world unfolding around him like a distant dream. He doesn't think about the past. Doesn't think about the boy who was trapped. The boy in the wheelchair. The boy who was twenty, bound by weakness. Flesh doesn't matter. Only the mind.

Only the mind is.

Now the body moves, no longer weak. A child's body, ten years old, but stronger than it should be. His hands twitch, but he doesn't look at them. Doesn't need to. His body obeys. His mind guides.

Hours ago, I turned ten.

Time flows, but it doesn't stop. Time is just the rain—always falling, always moving, always washing away. He watches it. Watches how it makes the world blur, how it erases everything in its path.

No regret. He stands taller in the rain, the water soaking him, the storm battering his skin.

I have done my best. Always my best.

Without strength, you can do nothing. Without the mind, you will be controlled.

The rain falls but Amatsu remains, untouched, unmoved. The sky above darkens, but he does not look away.

The thought drifts by, like the storm itself, but there is no feeling behind it. There is no sadness, no joy. Just the cold, unyielding truth. He's learned it well. The past doesn't matter, the future is an illusion.

A step breaks the silence.

His body tenses. A presence, soft yet undeniable, emerges from the shadows of the rain-soaked world. Higanbana.

He shifts his gaze toward her.

She steps forward, hesitant, her small feet barely making a sound on the wet earth. Her long, dark hair shimmers in the downpour, a stark contrast to the storm that rages around them. Her crimson eyes, wide and soft, glance up at him, then down, as if she too feels the weight of the moment.

The air is thick, suffocating. The storm is all around them now, the wind howling, the thunder distant but heavy in the air. And then, in the quietest of spaces, it happens.

Boom.

A distant rumble. The sound of battle. The sound of Ryojin and the orphans beginning their assault on the others. The inevitable chaos. Amatsu knows this well. He knows how it will unfold, how it always unfolds. There is no surprise in it. Only the future unfolding like a path beneath his feet.

His gaze doesn't falter, but his body moves faster than the eye can track. One moment, he is standing, unmoving, and the next, he's in front of Higanbana, his hand reaching for her with a calm that belies the storm around them.

There is no question, no hesitation. His actions are methodical, controlled.

With a swift motion, he pulls her close, his hand gripping her body with the ease of someone who has moved through life without ever once second-guessing his choices. His fingers press gently at her back as he vanishes, swallowed by the darkness of the trees. The world around them warps, bending, as they leap from one shadow to the next, their bodies carried on the wind as they move through the night.

Higanbana feels it—the weight of the moment, the sensation of time slowing down. The world shifts around her, like the entire universe is holding its breath. Her hair flutters, wild and free, floating in the rain as they soar through the trees. In that instant, everything feels suspended, as if the storm itself has paused to watch them.

She looks up at him. His face is focused, his eyes fixed straight ahead, but there's something in the sharp lines of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, that speaks louder than any words ever could.

His gaze never wavers. He doesn't acknowledge her. But she sees it—sees the subtle care in the way he holds her. It's not tenderness. It's something else, something unspoken. It is the cold, calculated protection of someone who has already decided the course of action, who has already decided what matters. And in that decision, she is a part of it.

Higanbana's heart beats faster. Her breath hitches, and her chest tightens. She doesn't know what it is she's feeling, but she knows it's something deep, something that rises like a tide inside her, pulling her closer to him.

Her fingers tremble, and without thinking, without fully understanding, she wraps her arms around his neck. It's a slow motion, a desperate movement that comes from somewhere beyond thought, a quiet trust that slips from her like a whispered secret.

Her cheek brushes against his, her skin warm against the coldness of the night. The world is a blur of rain and dark trees, and yet in this small space, in this fragile moment, everything is still.

She holds him tighter, pressing herself closer, her body molded to his. She knows nothing of the battle ahead, nothing of the risks they are about to face. She doesn't know if they will survive it—if he will survive it. But in this moment, the only thing that matters is the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear, the warmth of his body against hers.

The future is a dark void, an unknown. But for this fleeting moment, she trusts it all to him. Trusts the future, the chaos, the battle, the unknown, all into his hands.

She doesn't speak. There are no words. Only the silent understanding between them. And she holds onto him, tighter, as the rain continues to fall, as the world spins around them—unseen, unheard, irrelevant.

For now, there is just him.

Just Amatsu.