“A-Arashi…!” she moaned, voice trembling, raw with pleasure as she pushed back against him, her ass boung with every rough thrust.

  Naruto—Arashi—kept his pace brutal, smming into her, feeling the way her soaked pussy ched around his cock. The wet sp of skin filled the dimly lit room, his heavy balls smag against her with every deep stroke. She was so lost in it, so desperate, moaning his name like she actually loved him.

  Pathetic.

  Naruto’s face was bnk, his grip on her hips firm but meical. His mind wasn’t on the way she felt around him, or the way her body trembled when he buried himself balls-deep. No—he was thinking about the mission.

  She had finally slipped up st night, let her guard down just enough to firm what Jiraiya suspected. The details of the assassination plot, the key pyers—she gave him everything, spilling it between giggles and kisses, thinking she had him ed around her little finger.

  And now, he was making sure she never suspected a thing.

  “You love this, don’t you?” he murmured against her ear, his voice dripping with heat, even if he didn’t feel a damn thing. He tightened his grip in her hair, pulling her head back so he could watch the way her mouth parted, gasping for air. “Taking me so fug good, baby. You were made for this cock, huh?”

  “Y-yeah—!” she whined, a plete mess beh him, her nails g at the sheets. “God, yes—Arashi, I’m so close, please—!”

  He almost smirked. Of course, she was.

  She thought this meant something.

  He adjusted his grip, his thumb pressing against her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her eyes roll back as he drove into her harder, his hips snapping against her soaked t. “Gonna cum all over my cock, huh? You’re squeezing me so tight, baby. Fuck—such a needy little thing.”

  She sobbed out his name, her body trembling, her pussy g down around him, milking him like she never wao let go.

  She had no idea he was already gone.

  By m, she’d be weak, barely able to move. And by the time she figured out what happened—

  She’d be dead.

  And Konoha would be safe.

  But first—he still had to make her e.

  His hand slipped dowween her legs, fingers finding her swollen clit, rubbing tight, teasing circles against the sensitive nub.

  She screamed, her body jerking, her walls tightening around him as she came, hard.

  “There you go…” he purred, fug her through it, dragging out every st tremor of pleasure as she colpsed against the sheets, shaking. “That’s my girl. Cum for me, just like that.”

  Her t squeezed him like a vice, a himself go, burying himself deep, groaning against her ear as he spilled inside her, filling her up pletely.

  It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be alive long enough tret it.

  She sighed, stretg like a zy cat, pletely spent, her bare body glowing with post-asmic satisfa. She draped herself over him, her soft breasts pressing against his chest as she nuzzled his neck.

  “Mmm… I’m gonna miss that cock,” she purred, her fingers zily trag the muscles on his stomach.

  Naruto—Arashi—chuckled, rolling onto his side, one arm thrown around her waist like he actually wao stay. “Yeah?” he murmured, keeping his voice warm, teasing. “Could’ve fooled me with how much you were screaming just now.”*

  She giggled, shifting lower, her hand sliding down to his softening cock. “That’s because you fuck me like a goddamn animal,” she breathed, her fingers ing around him, stroking him zily. “S, so relentless… Makes me wonder how Konoha ever let you go.”

  Naruto smirked. “Maybe they didn’t deserve me.”

  “No, they fug didn’t.” Her voice hardehat lingering hatred creeping in. She trailed her lips lower, her breath warm as she kissed the base of his shaft, her tongue flig against his balls, making them slick as she licked him slowly.

  Naruto kept his expression rexed, but he wasn’t focused on the way she was draggiongue over him, sug one of his balls into her mouth, humming as she pyed with them.

  No. He was watg her.

  She pulled back, grinning. “Konoha thinks they do whatever they want, take what they want, crush whoever they want. But they’ll learn.”

  He hummed, pretending to be engrossed in the way she touched him. “Sounds personal.”

  “Of course it’s personal.”* Her grip on him tightened slightly, her nails raking down his length. “That bitch Tsus up there, pying the benevolent ruler while she lets the rest of us rot. My vilge suffered because of her. Because of Konoha. She doesn’t deserve to rule.”

  With a smirk, he reached for the witle, p them both a gss. “Well, I guess we should celebrate,” he murmured, handing her one. “Drink up, babe. We should toast properly.”

  She ughed, king her gss against his. “To freedom.”

  And then she drank.

  Naruto watched her closely, his own gss untouched. The way her throat moved as she swallowed, the way she licked a drop from her lips, pletely unaware of what she had just done.

  The poison would take three minutes.

  At first, she didn’t notice. She hummed, twirling her empty gss between her fingers, still smiling, still stroking his cock absentmindedly.

  Then—

  Her fiwitched. Her breath hitched.

  And theilled.

  Her eyes flicked up to his, fused. “I…” Her voice faltered, her chest rising and falling unevenly.

  And Naruto let her see it.

  That slow, fading warmth in his gaze. The twinkle in his eyes dimming into something cold, somethiy.

  Her smile disappeared. “A-Arashi…?”

  He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “Shh…” he murmured, tug a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just let it happen.”*

  She tried to speak, but her throat was log up. Her breaths grew shallower, her body seizing as paralysis set in.

  “W-why…?” she rasped, her lips parting. “I thought you…”

  She never finished.

  She stopped breathing.

  Her body slumped against him, lifeless.

  Naruto sat there for a moment, his hand still resting against her cheek, as if she were still alive.

  Then, slowly—his smile faded.

  Gone was the teasing lone was Arashi.

  His eyes were cold, detached, bnk.

  He slipped out of the bed, dressing with practiced effiot sparing her body annce.

  The night was cool and quiet, the forest stretg endlessly before him. Naruto moved without a sound, slipping through the branches like a shadow. Step, flicker, nd. Every motion precise, trolled, automatic.

  The moonlight barely touched the forest floor through the thick opy, but that didn’t slow him down. He didn’t o see to know the terrain. His body khe rhythm—how much force to use, where to step, how to move through the wild without disturbing so much as a leaf.

  His breathing was steady. His muscles ached in that familiar, satisfying way. Three weeks in disguise, pying the long game, keeping his reflexes coiled beh yers of fake charm and easy smiles. It felt good to move like himself again.

  No more slow, calcuted movements.

  No more lying.

  No more Arashi.

  A skin he wore for three weeks. And now, like a snake, he was shedding it.

  He adjusted his course, keeping himself upwind, uable, invisible. Not that anyone was trag him.

  Still.

  pcy got people killed.

  His ears picked up the sounds of the forest around him—the distant hoot of an owl, the rustling of something small moving through the underbrush, the faint trickle of water nearby. No signs of pursuit. No flickers of fn chakra in raill, he stayed alert.

  Erasing a life didn’t end when the body dropped. It ended wherace of the act was gone.

  The small woodeer was exactly as he left it. One room. No windows. Just a funal, temporary space.

  Naruto nded lightly on the roof, pausing for half a sed before dropping to the ground, moving toward the entraill empty. Good.

  The ntern inside flickered as he stepped in, throwing just enough light to illumihe scrolls id out on the wooden table, the ly arranged supplies, the bedroll he had barely used.

  Three weeks of intelligence work.

  He moved to the table, hands quid effit as he gathered the scrolls he needed. Names, locations, coded messages. Everything he had pulled from Rika and her people. All of it methodically recorded.

  The rest?

  He grabbed a handful of discarded notes—maps he no longer needed, minor reports, anything that could eveely ect ba—ahem to the fire.

  The paper curled, bing at the edges before turning to ash.

  He kept moving, stripping off the st remnants of Arashi. The tunic, the loose pants, the clothes that had made him look like a wandering merary with no ties, no past, no purpose.

  They, too, went into the fmes.

  Arashi was dead.

  Naruto pulled on his real gear—the clothes that fit like a sed skin. Dark, tactical, near-ANBU in style. Sleeveless bat top, gloves snug around his fingers, reinforced shin guards. No excess weight. No unnecessary fabric. Everything designed for efficy.

  He reached for his katana, seg it across his back.

  And finally—the mask.

  He held it for a moment, staring at his refle in the cracked mirror he table. This was the real him.

  Arashi had warmth. Arashi had an easy smirk. Arashi preteo care.

  Naruto didn’t.

  He pulled the mask over his face, and just like that, the final piece of the mission fell away.

  No more deception. No more fake names.

  Only the shinobi remained.

  He turned back toward the dying fire, watg the st remnants of paper crumble into ash. Then, without hesitation, he pulled a scroll from his pouch, unrolling it with a flick of his wrist.

  One seal. One spark of chakra.

  The first explosive tag ignited he table. The sed followed, catg the edges of the bedroll, the beams of the roof.

  By the time Naruto stepped outside, the safe house was an inferno.

  He didn’t watch it burn. He didn’t o.

  One final breath. Inhale. Exhale.

  Then—he was gone.

  He barely felt the burn in his legs as he pushed forward, springing off a narrow ledge, twisting mid-air before nding perfectly on another rock, barely big enough to hold him.

  The wind howled through the peaks, cold, biting, pulling at his cloak. He barely noticed.

  Three days of this. Three days of stant movement. No stops. No wasted time. He didn’t need much sleep, not when his body had been running on instinct for weeks. He could rest whe there.

  Jiraiya’s camp wasn’t far now.

  led deep in the mountains, hidden behind a r waterfall, far from any roads, any vilges. No one would find it. No one should find it.

  Which was why Jiraiya had yered the entire p sealing traps.

  And Naruto was about to trip every single one of them.

  The air ged as he approached—just slightly, barely noticeable, but Naruto had learhe shift in chakra.

  Jiraiya’s barrier.

  A subtle sealing formation, ed around the territory in invisible yers. Not a physical wall, but a sensory tripwire.

  If he broke through without dispelling it, Jiraiya would be alerted immediately.

  They had been pying this game sihey started traveling together. Naruto always tried to get through unnoticed. He never succeeded.

  But that didn’t meaopped trying.

  He crouched low, pressing his fingers against the boulder, closing his eyes.

  There.

  He could feel the flow of chakra woven into the stone, yered deep into the natural energy of the mountain itself. **The sealwork was plex—**Jiraiya’s style, without a doubt.

  He exhaled slowly. Time to break it.

  His fingers flicked through a rapid sequence of seals, his own chakra surging forward, pressing against the barrier—testing for oints, trying to slip through the gaps.

  The seal pulsed in response, shifting, flexing like a living thing.

  Naruto gritted his teeth, f his chakra into the formation, trying to override the alert system—

  And then the whole thing fred to life.

  The rea was immediate. A ripple of chakra shot through the rocks, fshing like an invisible pulse, disappearing into the distaraight to Jiraiya.

  Shit.

  Naruto exhaled sharply, standing up. Another failure.

  He barely had time to process it before he felt another shift in the air—this one heavier, familiar.

  Jiraiya was already waiting.

  Naruto stepped through the entrance, boots kig up dust against the wooden floor.

  Jiraiya was inside, sitting cross-legged on the floor, a small fire crag between them. He had a pot banced over the fmes, some kind of stew bubbling inside. He barely looked up as Naruto entered.

  Only his eyes moved—sharp, assessing.

  He took in Naruto’s stahe way he carried himself, the way his chakra felt.

  And then, after a long pause—

  “Is she dead?”

  Naruto nodded once. “Yes.”

  Jiraiya’s lips curled slightly, satisfied. “Good.”

  He gestured vaguely to the fire. “Eat, the. You look like hell, kid.”

  Naruto didn’t argue. He walked across the room, l himself onto the wooden floor he fire.

  And finally—he let the illusion drop.

  The Henge melted away in slow waves, peeling back the fake skin, revealing the real him.

  Blonde hair.

  Blue eyes.

  Whisker marks.

  Naruto sat cross-legged on the floor, empty bowl resting beside him. Jiraiya stretched his legs out, arms folded behind his head.

  “You were sloppy with the seal.”

  He didnt look up.

  Jiraiya sighed, shaking his head. “Didn’t even slow the alert. Figured you’d have cracked it by now.”

  Naruto reached for the kettle, poured himself another cup of tea. “Figured you’d have made it easier by now.”

  Jiraiya snorted. “You’d like that, huh?”

  Naruto didn’t answer, just took a slow sip.

  Jiraiya let the sileretch, then leaned forward, tossing a small piece of wood into the fire. The fmes fred briefly before settling. “Three years.” His voice was calm, even. “Doesn’t feel that long.”

  Naruto set his cup down. “Feels like forever.”

  Jiraiya studied him for a moment. Then, with a smirk, “Still impatient.”

  Naruto didn’t react.

  Three years ago, he might have.

  Jiraiya exhaled, slow and thoughtful, watg Naruto the way he always did after a mission.

  Finally, he asked, “You ready?”

  Naruto ran a thumb over the rim of his cup, sidering the question.

  Konoha. The vilge. The people. The faces that would look at him and nnize what was standing in front of them.

  “Does it matter?”

  Jiraiya smirked. “Nope.”

  Naruto exhaled through his nose, leaned back against the wall. “Then yeah. I’m ready.”

  “Tomorrow, we rest.” Jiraiya lifted his cup slightly, as if in a toast. “And the day after that, we go home.”