The rhythmic pounding of the wolf’s heavy paws against the earth was the only sound that filled Kaya’s ears. Her arms clung weakly to its thick fur, her body swaying with each powerful stride. She had no idea where it was taking her, nor did she care. The weight of her loss sat like a crushing force on her chest, her thoughts an empty void of grief and exhaustion.

  Hours passed—perhaps only minutes. Time had lost meaning. The scent of smoke and blood slowly faded from the air, repced by the damp, earthy aroma of the forest. Eventually, the wolf slowed, coming to a halt in a small, grassy clearing.

  Kaya blinked sluggishly, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Ahead of her, nestled against the base of a thick tree, was a figure—a woman, slumped over, barely clinging to life.

  Kaya stumbled from the wolf’s back, her legs nearly giving out beneath her as she rushed toward the wounded woman. As she got closer, details became clearer. She was young—around Kaya’s age—with matted dark hair and brilliant green eyes that barely remained open beneath a yer of dirt and blood.

  Her body bore the signs of a struggle—her clothes were torn, her skin bruised, and her limbs covered in mud and dried blood. And yet, her face remained untouched, as if some force had kept it safe amidst whatever horrors had befallen her.

  Kaya dropped to her knees beside her, reaching out to check for a pulse. Faint. But she was still alive.

  “Hang on,” Kaya whispered, her voice hoarse. “I’ll find help.”

  As she started to rise, a weak hand gripped her wrist.

  Kaya froze as the woman’s chest rose and fell with a ragged, uneven rhythm. Each breath carried a wet, gurgling sound—fluid trapped deep within her lungs. A whisper, so soft it was almost swallowed by the night air, escaped her lips.

  “Protect… Hiro…”

  The words barely made it out before her grip sckened, her arm falling lifelessly to the ground.

  Kaya stared, breath catching in her throat. “No… no, no, no!”

  She shook the woman’s shoulders, desperate for another breath, another word. Who was Hiro? What did she mean?

  But there was no response. She was gone.

  A sharp crack echoed through the clearing, followed by a puff of smoke from the direction of the bush. Kaya barely had time to react before she heard a sound. Faint, soft.

  Kaya’s breath hitched. She turned her head toward the bushes nearby, heart pounding.

  A baby’s cry.

  Moving on instinct, she pushed herself up and rushed toward the sound. Nestled beneath a thick shrub was a small bundle of robes. Trembling, she crouched down, slowly peeling back the cloth.

  A tiny infant blinked up at her, no more than a few months old. His green eyes, the exact shade of the woman’s, locked onto hers.

  Kaya felt her breath leave her body. This was Hiro.

  Somehow, amidst everything, he had remained untouched. No dirt, no bruises. It was as if something—or someone—had ensured he stayed safe.

  Beside him was a small bag, containing basic supplies—formu, cloth wrappings, and a few traveling essentials. Nestled within it was something strange—a smooth, rectangur stone sb no rger than a foot in either direction. She had no idea what it was, but she didn’t dwell on it.

  Gently, she lifted the infant into her arms. He whimpered, shifting against her chest, but did not cry further. He simply stared.

  Kaya swallowed the lump in her throat and held him close, rocking him slightly in an effort to soothe herself as much as the baby. She had lost everything tonight. But this child—he was still here.

  She wouldn’t let him be alone.

  As she emerged from the bushes, the massive wolf still stood beside the woman’s body. It had nudged her lightly, as if trying to wake her, but when she fell forward into the grass, its head lowered in what could only be described as mourning.

  Then, it lifted its head and let out a deep, sorrowful howl.

  Kaya shivered. The sound wasn’t just grief—it was finality.

  The wolf turned its gaze to her, its golden eyes meeting hers. It saw Hiro in her arms. It held her stare for a long moment, then—

  It nodded.

  Without another sound, it turned and sprinted into the darkness, disappearing into the forest.

  Kaya didn’t call after it. Somehow, she knew she never would’ve been able to stop it.

  Instead, she turned her gaze back to the fallen woman. Something about bringing her back to Konoha—to be poked and prodded by curious hands—felt wrong.

  So she did what she could. She gathered wood. She built a pyre. And she set it abze, watching until there was nothing left.

  Only then did she turn and begin the long journey back to Konoha.

  The return to the vilge was silent. She had sealed Kazuma’s body and her teammates’ remains into scrolls. She had wrapped Hiro close, ensuring he stayed warm. Step by step, she carried herself forward, ignoring the pain in her muscles, the exhaustion pressing down on her.

  By the time she walked through the vilge gates, the sun was beginning to rise.

  She delivered the scrolls to the families of the fallen, Kazuma’s specifically going directly to the Uchiha compound. She did not go inside. She did not stay to expin.

  Then, she made her way to the Hokage’s office.

  Hiruzen Sarutobi listened patiently as Kaya recounted everything—the ambush, the deaths, the rogue ninja, the wolf, the woman, and the child.

  She pced a sealed scroll containing the rogue ninja’s body on his desk. The Hokage frowned, recognizing the name instantly.

  “A dangerous man,” he murmured. “One we’ve been tracking for some time.”

  He sighed deeply, looking at her with genuine regret.

  “You did well, Kaya.”

  Her hands clenched. “I failed.”

  Hiruzen shook his head. “No. You survived. You returned. That is not failure.”

  She swallowed hard, nodding stiffly. “Hokage-sama, I… I want to retire.”

  The old man raised a brow.

  She took a deep breath. “I want to raise Hiro. His mother… she asked me to protect him. I won’t let anyone take him.”

  For a long moment, Hiruzen was silent. Then, slowly, he smiled.

  “I have another idea,” he said. “The orphanage on the edge of town needs someone to help run it. A long-term mission, if you will.”

  Kaya blinked. “A… mission?”

  “This way, Hiro will be raised properly. And you’ll be able to ensure his safety.” The Hokage leaned back in his chair. “I won’t promise you complete authority over him. But I will ensure that no one takes him without your knowledge.”

  Kaya exhaled. That was better than she had hoped for.

  She nodded. “I accept.”

  Hiruzen smiled warmly. “Then welcome to your new mission, Kaya.”

  As she stepped out of the Hokage’s office, Hiro curled against her chest, his tiny fingers grasping weakly at her shirt.

  Kaya gnced down at him. He blinked up at her, his green eyes wide, curious.

  She adjusted her grip and continued walking.

  She didn’t know what the future held. But she did know this: she would never let him be alone.