After the buzz surrounding Kamiyama Ryo's promotion to jōnin faded, the days quietly edged toward the end of the year.
In just a few more days, the New Year would arrive.
That night, under the warm glow of lights, they sat down for New Year's Eve dinner. The aroma of food and Kushina's lively chatter filled the small dining room. Mikoto, as always, quietly and naturally laid out the dishes. After dinner, the two women changed into their carefully prepared kimonos.
Kushina wore a vibrant crimson furisode, which made her red hair stand out even more. Her bright blue eyes shimmered with anticipation. Mikoto chose a deep purple tomesode, its elegant pattern accentuating her calm and gentle temperament. Standing side by side, the contrast between them, one vivid and one subdued, one warm and one composed, was strikingly beautiful.
"Ryo," Kushina adjusted her wide sleeves and spun lightly. The hem of her kimono swayed slightly. "How do I look?" Her tone was expectant, with her usual hint of tsundere attitude.
"Yeah." Ryo's gaze briefly passed over her before landing on Mikoto. Mikoto lowered her eyes slightly, gently smoothing the fabric at her waist, lips curved in her usual soft smile. She didn't ask, but the quiet wait for a response was obvious. Ryo's voice remained even. "Looks good."
That simple comment made Kushina's lips curl into a smile, her eyes forming crescents. Mikoto looked up and smiled as well, her eyes glowing with quiet joy. Dressed and ready, the three stepped into Konoha's New Year's Eve.
The village, draped in night, was also covered in a heaviness that refused to lift. The scars of war hadn't healed. The joy of the New Year felt thin and forced. Lanterns hanging from the eaves flickered weakly, and even the "Happy New Year" signs looked old and faded.
There were many pedestrians, but most walked quickly, faces etched with worry. Some over shortages, others over news from the front lines. Occasionally, subdued laughter would surface, quickly fading as if afraid to disturb the weight in the air. The festive spirit felt suffocated.
Children's laughter was the only burst of vitality in the gloom. These young ones, untouched by the battlefield, didn't yet understand the sorrow weighing down the adults.
Ryo walked together with Kushina and Mikoto.
Kushina linked arms with Mikoto. At first, she pointed out trinkets at stalls with excitement, but the gray streets, hurried footsteps, and lingering grief gradually dampened her mood.
Especially when they passed a shop with a "Limited Supply" sign and a line of anxious people, a shadow fell over her clear blue eyes.
"Ryo-kun," a gentle voice broke the silence.
Ahead stood several familiar figures. Minato, Shikaku, Chōza, and Inoichi.
They were among the few classmates still alive. Most of their generation had already died on the battlefield.
"Minato. Shikaku. Happy New Year, everyone." Kushina's eyes lit up briefly as she shook off the gloom, smiling as she pulled Mikoto forward. Mikoto followed with a polite nod and soft smile.
"Happy New Year, Kushina. Mikoto." Minato returned the greeting first. His trademark smile was warm as always. "Ryo-kun, congratulations on becoming a jōnin."
Ryo simply nodded.
Their brief chat touched on current affairs, New Year wishes, and vague hopes for the future. The mood was mixed. Gratitude for surviving, silent mourning for the dead. Kushina talked cheerfully about the house decorations and dinner. Mikoto softly added a few words.
As they parted, they exchanged customary greetings. Happy New Year. Stay safe. Shikaku gave Minato a light pat on the shoulder without saying much. His eyes, though, carried quiet reassurance. Minato smiled back, but Ryo, standing nearby, clearly saw the pain behind that smile. Minato's feelings for Kushina weren't a secret, but against someone like Ryo, those feelings had to stay buried.
"Let's go." Kushina seemed unaware of the subtle undercurrents just now. She took a deep breath and moved forward as if shaking off the gloom.
The three continued walking. Not far ahead, a squad of patrol shinobi returning from a border post appeared. They were exhausted, their armor still covered in dirt. The chūnin leading them spotted Ryo and immediately straightened up.
"Ryo-sama." The shinobi stopped and saluted with full respect. His team followed suit, eyes filled with admiration. Ryo's feats on the battlefield in the Land of Rain and the frontier had long since become legend among lower-ranking shinobi thanks to Hiruzen.
Ryo gave a slight nod. "Thanks for your hard work."
"Just doing our duty." The chūnin replied crisply, saluted again, and quickly led his team away. Their tired figures soon blended into the crowd.
"Ryo-sama." Kushina mimicked the tone deliberately, blinking at him with a teasing smile.
Ryo glanced at her, ignoring the provocation.
"Hey. Ryo. Kushina. Mikoto." A boisterous voice rang out from the side, breaking the heavy mood.
Nawaki rushed over with one hand on his hip, the other dragging Kaori. Tsunade followed behind, her golden ponytail swaying. Nawaki was grinning from ear to ear. "I knew I'd run into you. New Year's Eve wouldn't be the same without us."
Kaori wore a new floral kimono. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold. Pulled along by Nawaki, she shyly greeted them. "Kushina-onee-san, Mikoto-onee-san, Ryo-oniichan… Happy… Happy New Year." Her eyes sparkled with awe when she looked at Ryo.
"Tsunade-nee. Nawaki. Kaori." Kushina beamed, quickly letting go of Ryo to greet them with full energy.
"Yo, everyone's here." Tsunade approached, glancing over the group. She paused for a moment when her gaze reached Ryo. Wearing a sharp, casual outfit, she exuded her usual bold aura and carried a small sake flask. Tilting her chin, she asked, "Heading to the temple fair?"
"Yeah." Kushina nodded vigorously. "Perfect timing. Let's go together."
"Haha, let's move out." Nawaki pulled Kaori and tried to pull Kushina along too. "I heard there's a stall up ahead selling huge candy apples."
"Nawaki-niisan, slow down." Kaori quietly scolded.
Their group began moving together.
Nawaki led the way, full of enthusiasm, making loud remarks about each stall, most of which were out of his budget, aiming for snacks. Kaori stayed close, occasionally whispering to remind him to behave. Kushina and Mikoto walked side by side, chatting about decorations and sweets. Mikoto gently brushed stray hair from Kushina's head. Tsunade strolled alongside them, occasionally sipping her sake, eyes calmly observing the village and its people. Ryo stayed one step behind, a silent presence, calmly scanning the surroundings.
With Nawaki's energy, the festive mood seemed to come alive. Kushina's smile became more genuine. They moved slowly with the crowd, bought some traditional snacks. Nawaki happily devoured a giant candy apple like a smug cat. Kaori nibbled on roasted chestnuts from a small bag. Kushina and Mikoto shared a sweet dumpling. Tsunade focused on her sake. Ryo, as expected, had no interest in sweets. He simply paid.
As midnight approached, people gradually gathered at the shrine on the village's edge, waiting for the bell to mark the end of the old year and the beginning of the new. The square was packed, but the atmosphere leaned more toward solemn prayers for safety than celebration.
Dong.
A deep, resonant bell rang through the silent night, rippling outward and striking everyone's ears.
People clasped their hands, closed their eyes, and quietly made their wishes.
Tsunade stood still, eyes closed, perhaps praying for the departed, for herself, for Nawaki and Kaori's future.
Even Nawaki was uncharacteristically quiet, hands folded, expression serious.
Kaori's eyelashes trembled slightly as she whispered, "I hope onee-san, oniichan, and everyone stays safe…"
Kushina clasped her hands, lips moving in silent prayer, wrapped in red.
Mikoto moved with serene grace. She bowed her head, hands folded at her chest, face calm and focused, as if pouring all her wishes deep into her heart.
Ryo didn't clasp his hands. He just stood there quietly, head tilted to the night sky, letting the bell's echoes wash over him. He didn't count how many times it rang.
When the final reverberation faded into the cold air, the crowd erupted into quiet but heartfelt cheers.
In a war-torn Konoha, this was what passing the year looked like.
"Happy New Year." Kushina opened her eyes, smiling brightly at Tsunade, Mikoto, Nawaki, and Kaori.
"Happy New Year. I'm going to be Hokage next year." Nawaki shouted, drawing a few annoyed glances.
"Happy New Year, everyone." Mikoto's voice remained soft and warm.
"Mhm. Happy New Year." Kaori whispered, but clearly.
Tsunade took a gulp of sake and exhaled. "Alright, New Year's over. Let's head back, kids."
The crowd slowly dispersed. Nawaki kept blabbering about his goals, while Kaori yawned quietly. The group walked through the now-peaceful streets toward home.
Far away, in Suna, deep in the Land of Wind.
"New Year?" In Chiyo's home, that word felt cruel and hollow.
No decorations. No laughter. No reunion. Just silence, cold and absolute.
Ebizō sat on a hard stone chair, fingers tapping the armrest unconsciously, brows deeply furrowed. His once-sharp gaze was now filled with worry and unspoken grief.
Across from him, Chiyo looked as if she had aged ten years overnight. Her face was ashen, lips pressed into a pale line. Her puppet-wielding hands hung limp at her sides like dead branches.
Her sunken eyes held no tears. Only hatred. Deep. Burning. Insane.
All of it stemmed from that ambush on the border of the Land of Fire. Her son and daughter-in-law, elite jōnin of Suna, Sasori's parents, had died. Killed by Hatake Sakumo. Their corpses were the only thing brought back. Two cold bodies, wrapped in death's white cloth.
This New Year was supposed to bring them home, not their corpses.
In the corner of the room, a small figure crouched. Young Sasori sat in the shadows, his tiny spine taut. He didn't cry. He didn't excitedly wait for presents. He silently played with puppet parts, their metal joints creaking in his small hands.
The bright eyes he inherited from his parents were now veiled in icy haze. Beneath that, burned a hatred far beyond his years. Not just for Konoha. Not just for Hatake Sakumo. But even for Suna. For the village that sent his parents to die for the sake of a mission.
Chiyo's eyes scanned the cold stone house.
Even in the hardest years, as long as the family was together, Sasori would be bouncing around, chatting happily. His father would laugh about missions, his mother would prepare simple food, and the house would be filled with the warmth of life.
But this year, nothing. Just the cold. The empty seat. The metallic scent of blood still hanging in the air, perhaps only in her mind.
Every second of silence was a knife cutting into her heart. Over and over again.
And with every cut, the hatred in her grew stronger. Sharper.
She looked into the endless darkness outside. Her eyes, full of hatred, pierced the sands, locked firmly onto the distant Konoha. Onto the name, Hatake Sakumo.
The fire burning in her now consumed all reason. No more tears. No more curses.
Only action.
Konoha would pay this blood debt. Chiyo would make sure of it. She would let the screams of Konoha's shinobi mourn her dead family.
Her fist clenched tightly. Her joints creaked from the force.
(To be continued.)
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◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 200 Power Stones.
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