The jungle was alive.

Kakashi had thought he’d seen forests before, but this was different. The canopy above tangled so thickly that sunlight poured down in golden shafts, painting the undergrowth in shifting light. Every step seemed to stir whispers—leaves brushing together, unseen birds calling in strange tones, branches creaking as though they were watching him.

He adjusted his forehead protector, one hand resting lazily in his pocket, but his single exposed eye stayed sharp. The mission was simple: find the missing temple stone. Nothing more. Still, unease tugged at him.

A root shifted beneath his sandal. He stumbled slightly, catching himself, and the faintest sound reached him—laughter.

Not mocking, but soft, lilting. Curious.

His gaze flicked upward.

There, half-hidden among the vines, she stood. Barefoot, dressed in leaves woven into a simple garment that revealed the long, graceful lines of her legs. Hair falling in loose waves, skin sun-kissed and glowing with the life of the forest. Her eyes met his without fear.

Kakashi froze. She wasn’t a shinobi—he could feel that much—but the jungle itself seemed to bend around her presence.

“…Who are you?” His voice was low, muffled behind the mask.

She tilted her head, not quite understanding the words. Then, with slow steps, she descended from the branches. Her feet barely made a sound against the mossy ground.

When she reached him, she didn’t answer. Instead, she reached up—hesitant, then bold—and tapped her finger lightly against the cloth of his mask.

Kakashi’s visible eye widened a fraction.

A small giggle escaped her lips, and she mimicked pulling something over her own mouth as if asking, Why hide?

For the first time in years, Kakashi felt… off-balance.

“…You shouldn’t be here,” he said, though his words were quieter now, almost uncertain.

She didn’t seem to understand. Instead, she pointed to his forehead protector, then to the forest around them. “Stone?” she asked in broken syllables.

Kakashi blinked. She knew.

But before he could respond, a gust of wind rushed through the canopy, vines swaying violently—as if the jungle itself warned him. And in that moment, he realized: she wasn’t just some strange girl of the forest.

She was part of it.