The battlefield was chaos—roaring wind, burning earth, and the deafening clash of chakra-infused blows.

The sky above was thick with smoke, its darkness split by flashes of jutsu, each blast shaking the ground beneath your feet. The scent of scorched soil and blood filled the air, every breath heavy with the weight of war.

Naruto was ahead of you, moving with the relentless determination only he could carry, golden chakra flickering around him like the flames of an unyielding fire.

You could see the exhaustion in his shoulders, the tightness in the way he held himself, but he never slowed. There was too much at stake.

It happened in an instant.

An enemy shinobi—one of the strongest among the reanimated forces—had appeared from the chaos, weaving seals at a speed that blurred their hands.

You recognized the jutsu forming, felt the immense gathering of energy before the blast even launched. It wasn’t just powerful—it was meant to kill. And it was aimed straight at Naruto’s unguarded back.

Your body moved before thought could catch up.

A rush of air tore past your ears as you pushed forward, feet barely touching the torn earth. Naruto’s name was on your tongue, but there wasn’t time to speak it.

You reached him just as the sphere of blazing chakra erupted forward, its light searing into your vision.

You shoved him hard out of the path. And then it hit you.

The world exploded into heat and agony. The force of the blast drove through your chest like molten iron, tearing breath from your lungs.

It was more than pain—it was weight, pressure, an unrelenting burn that made your vision fracture at the edges.

The shock knocked you off your feet, and for a moment, all you could hear was the roaring in your ears, drowning out the distant battle cries.

The ground caught you hard. You lay there, gasping, hands instinctively clutching at the wound as if you could hold yourself together by sheer will. Warmth spread beneath your fingers—too much warmth.

Naruto’s voice broke through the haze, sharp and panicked. He was beside you in seconds, his hands pressing over yours, chakra flooding from him in desperate attempts to slow the bleeding.

His wide blue eyes were frantic, his mouth moving fast—pleading, cursing, refusing to accept what he saw.

His shadow fell over you, blocking the harsh light of the burning battlefield. The scent of his chakra, bright and fierce, surrounded you as if it could shield you from the damage already done.

Your chest felt heavy, every breath shallow, each inhale tugging at the edges of consciousness. Pain pulsed with every heartbeat, but you could see him—Naruto—alive, unhurt, still here. That was enough.

Somewhere beyond the ringing in your ears, the battle raged on. But here, in this small piece of torn earth, time felt slower.

Naruto’s grip on you was unyielding, his determination as tangible as the heat of his chakra. His voice cracked, not from weakness but from the refusal to let you slip away.

The truth pressed in on you like the weight of the sky—you might not survive this. But if this was the cost of keeping him alive, of letting him keep fighting, of giving the world its best chance… it was worth it.