The sun was rising high now, warm golden beams slicing through the trees, catching on silk banners and ornaments.
Music started—a slow, traditional melody played on koto and shakuhachi—and the crowd grew quiet, almost reverent.
Naruto’s hands were clammy.
He wasn’t afraid.
He’d been through pain, blood, loss, and war.
He wasn’t scared of life or death.
But he was nervous.
About her.
Would she change her mind?
Would she hate this?
Would she resent him?
Then, the stair gates at the far end of the courtyard slowly began to part.
The crowd hushed.
People moved aside.
Heads turned.
A clear path opened up through the gathered masses.
Sasuke Uchiha.
For a moment, Naruto forgot to breathe.
She looked ethereal.
The white wedding kimono flowed around her like clouds draped in moonlight.
Layers of hand-woven silk shimmered subtly with a pearlescent sheen, tied together with an obi of indigo and soft silver.
The sleeves brushed the ground, each movement of her walk a gentle wave of restrained grace.
Her slender frame was accentuated not by tightness but by poise—every step dignified, regal, almost unreal.
Her hair, usually short and wind-roughened from missions, was longer now—let down and lightly curled at the ends, cascading over her shoulders like night spilling over snow.
One side was neatly pinned with a small crystal hair ornament in the shape of the Uchiha fan.
Soft bangs framed her face, but the left side had been grown longer—falling carefully over her left eye, hiding the Rinnegan from view.
That, Naruto realized, had probably been her decision.
To show she wasn’t a shinobi today.
Just… a bride.
The red eyeliner around her eyes made her gaze sharper, more striking.
Her lips were tinted pale pink, just enough to contrast her porcelain skin.
She wore no excessive jewelry, no extravagant crown.
She didn’t need it.
She carried herself like a queen walking through a battlefield of awe.
And though her face was calm—emotionless even—Naruto saw it.
The tiny rise of her chest from a breath she hadn’t meant to take.
She was nervous too.
She didn’t smile.
She didn’t wave.
She didn’t look at the crowd.
Her eyes were locked on one thing only.
Him.
Naruto’s breath hitched.
His heart beat louder than the koto in the background.
Every word of advice, every foolish tip from Kiba or Lee, every line of ceremony he’d rehearsed with Shikamaru evaporated from his head.
There was no war.
No Hokage duty.
No weight of the world.
Just her.
Sasuke.
And she was walking to him.