Kurō and Mei Terumī continued talking.
They spoke about everything, from the current state of Kirigakure to small details of their everyday lives.
Their conversation was relaxed and easy.
The topics were light and scattered, like dust drifting through afternoon sunlight.
None of it was important, yet somehow it made the whole room feel warmer.
Time passed little by little.
At some point, the light of the setting sun slipped through the window and filled the room.
It was a warm orange-red glow, painting everything in soft, gentle colors.
Even the mist seemed to thin beneath the sunset, as if it had been melted by that warmth.
When Mei realized how late it had gotten, she stood up and smoothed out her clothes.
“I should head back.
I still have some paperwork to deal with.” Kurō opened the door and stood at the entrance, smiling as he waved goodbye through the mist.
His figure remained in the doorway, stretched into a long shadow by the setting sun.
That shadow fell into the fog, hazy and indistinct, like a faded painting.
Mei had only taken a few steps when she suddenly stopped.
She turned back and looked at the figure waving to her.
The sunset fell across her face, gilding her outline with a warm golden edge.
Her lips moved slightly.
In her emerald-green eyes, a careful light appeared at some point, as if she were afraid of being rejected.
“We…” She paused, her voice carrying a trace of nervousness even she had not noticed.
“We’re friends, right?” At that moment, she looked nothing like her usual cool, serious self.
Right now, she did not look like a powerful ninja.
She looked like an ordinary girl her age.
The sunset shone through the mist, lighting up her beautiful hair and pale skin.
A faint blush colored her cheeks, making it hard to tell whether it came from embarrassment or the glow of dusk.
Kurō looked at the beautiful girl before him and unconsciously fell into a daze.
What appeared in his mind was a memory from many years ago.
Beneath Konoha’s sunset, a short-haired girl stood ahead of him and Obito, smiling brightly into the evening light.
The wind lifted her hair, letting it flutter in the air like a banner… “…Sora?” Mei’s voice pulled him back to reality.
Kurō’s awareness returned in an instant, and a faint dimness flickered through his eyes.
It was very slight, gone almost as soon as it appeared.
He looked at Mei in front of him and smiled.
“What are you talking about?
We’ve known each other for four years.” His voice carried the same easy humor as always.
“Right…” Mei turned to look at the sunset, slightly lost in thought.
Before she knew it, four years had already passed since they met when she was eighteen.
Back then, she never would have imagined that she would come to trust this suspicious man from Kirigakure’s ANBU so deeply.
She looked at Sora.
His smile was still the same as it had been when they met four years ago, unchanged in the slightest.
After hesitating for a moment, she called softly, “Sora.” “Yeah?” She looked deeply at the man before her, her words carrying a meaning beyond the surface.
“When we win, Kirigakure’s next Mizukage…” “I hope that person is you.” Kurō fell silent for a moment.
“…Who can say what the future holds?” His voice was very soft, almost like he was speaking to himself.
“True.” Mei smiled.
There was no disappointment in that smile, only clear, open brightness.
“But at least now, we can talk about the future, can’t we?” She paused, her tone growing a little emotional.
“That was something we didn’t even dare to imagine before… and all of this is thanks to you.” Her gaze fell on Kurō’s face.
There was gratitude in her eyes, and admiration as well.
“If there is one person who can change Kirigakure, who can change this cruel ninja world…” “I believe that person has to be you.” After saying that, she gave him a graceful wave and left with light, relaxed steps.
Her figure gradually receded in the sunset’s afterglow, swallowed little by little by the mist until she finally disappeared at the end of the street.
Kurō stood frozen in place, as if he were still processing what she had just said.
His gaze remained fixed on the empty street.
Only after her figure had completely vanished from sight did he slowly come back to himself.
‘Heh.
What’s wrong with me?
I actually got stunned by a few words.’ He mocked himself inwardly, but there was only bitterness in that smile.
He turned around, stepped back heavily, and closed the door.
The door shut softly behind him, cutting off the sunset and mist outside.
The room now seemed a little dim, just like his mood.
Kurō leaned against the door, his body sinking slightly, like a bowstring that had been pulled tight for too long and had finally gone slack.
His gaze drifted up to the ceiling, then to the unlit lamp.
His voice was hoarse, carrying an exhaustion that was hard to describe.
“A guy who can’t even save himself has no right to talk about saving anyone else.” “Being alive is already good enough…” Whether those words were meant for Mei, who had left, or for himself, Kurō did not know.
He simply stood there, leaning against the door like a tree bent by the wind but not yet broken.
Kurō shook his head in frustration.
“…It’s just a role I’m playing.
What am I getting sentimental for?” His voice grew a little louder, as if he were trying to convince himself.
“What, am I getting old?
No way.
Absolutely no way.
If you don’t count mental age, I’m only twenty-two.
I’m still young!” He kept complaining inwardly, as if trying to crush the emotions that had just risen in his heart.
While comforting himself, he took out the map from inside his coat.
The last ray of sunset slipped through the window and fell over the yellowed paper, lighting up the dense markings and faded ink.
The winding lines looked like some ancient lost script, whispering something to him.
A deep red light flashed through his eyes.
Three black tomoe slowly rotated in his irises, profound and cold.
He studied the map in front of him carefully.
Every mark, every line, every tiny detail was taken in by those eyes.
“The ruins of the Uzumaki Clan…” He murmured softly, his voice carrying a faint trace of anticipation.
“I hope you don’t disappoint me.” “But before that…” He carefully rolled up the map and tucked it back into his clothes.
“I should go pick it up first.
Madara’s inheritance.” The instant his words fell, his figure vanished from the spot.
There was no afterimage, no sound of wind, no fluctuation of chakra.
He simply disappeared into thin air, as if he had never existed.
Only the window, which had been closed before but now stood open, silently revealed what had just happened.
Mist flowed in from outside, carrying a cool dampness with it.
The sun had completely sunk below the horizon, and the sky had turned a deep purple-gray.
In the distance, several lamps lit up, their warm halos spreading through the fog in soft circles.
The window remained open.
No one closed it.