Chapter 93: Hidden Sand Village

The final stretch of the journey dragged under the rising heat of the desert sun. The trees had given way to scrub and then to open sand dunes that reflected the light in harsh white glare. Sasuke walked at the front of the group with his usual straight-backed stride, but the dark circles under his eyes and the slight lag in his steps gave him away. He had barely slept. Every time Kael glanced his way, Sasuke’s jaw tightened and his gaze slid away as if the sight of him was an irritation he could not name.

Near midday Kael fell into step beside him.

"Hey," he said, keeping his voice low. "You look like death. Something wrong?"

Sasuke’s dark eyes cut toward him, sharp with something that looked almost like anger. For a second Kael thought the other boy might actually snap. Then Sasuke looked forward again.

"Nothing."

Kael frowned. "Did I snore too much last night or something? Kick you in my sleep?"

"No," Sasuke said flatly. "Nothing is wrong."

He lengthened his stride and pulled ahead, leaving Kael staring after him. Kael shrugged and let it go. Whatever was eating at Sasuke, it could wait. The walls of the Hidden Sand Village were already rising in the distance, a wide ring of sandstone and packed earth under a sky that felt too big.

They reached the main gate by early afternoon. Two Sand shinobi checked their papers, recognized the Leaf forehead protectors, and waved them through with curt nods. Inside, the village felt different from Konoha—narrower streets, buildings the color of sun-baked clay, the constant whisper of wind carrying fine grit. People moved with purpose, many of them wearing the same practical wraps and veils that kept the sand out of their clothes.

Temari and Kankurō were waiting near the gate plaza. Kankurō stood with his arms crossed, puppet case on his back, face half-hidden by his face paint. Temari held her giant fan closed at her side, blonde hair tied back in four high pigtails that still managed to look sharp rather than childish. The moment she saw Shikamaru her posture shifted—shoulders a fraction tighter, chin lifting, a faint color rising under the tan of her cheeks. She recovered quickly, but Kael noticed. He already seen in the anime how much she liked Shikamaru.

"Leaf shinobi," Kankurō called. "About time. We were starting to think you got lost in the dunes."

Temari’s eyes flicked past the others and landed briefly on Shikamaru before she spoke. "Gaara wanted to meet you himself, but he’s buried in Kazekage work. He is very sorry and he’ll see you tomorrow morning to go over the mission details. Until then you’re free to rest. I’ll show you to the inn."

The group fell in behind her. Kankurō lagged a few steps back, muttering something about paperwork. Temari set a pace that was just slow enough to talk, glancing sideways at Shikamaru every few seconds. Shikamaru walked with his hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded, looking for all the world like he would rather be anywhere else. Yet every time Temari spoke he answered, short and dry, and the corner of his mouth twitched once when she complained about the heat.

Kael watched the quiet dance with mild interest until the familiar blue screen flickered across his vision.

[Quest 12/100 : Fuck Temari]

[Time limit: 2 days]

He almost tripped over a loose stone. Internally he cursed the system with every creative insult he had left. Not everyone needs to be fucked, you absolute degenerate. Temari never showed the slightest interest in Naruto in the original timeline. She was sharp, proud, and already half in love with the laziest genius in the Leaf. Two days to seduce her? The system was getting greedy. If this kept up there would be no Boruto anime left because every woman of childbearing age would already be carrying the next generation of Uzumaki.

Kael recalled that he had skimmed a few Chapters of Boruto’s manga before transmigrating and decided the whole thing was garbage; he had stopped before the timeskip out of sheer self-preservation. The memory of that particular disappointment still made him grimace.

Temari’s voice cut through his thoughts. She was looking at him now, one eyebrow raised.

"You still with us, Loudmouth?"

Kael blinked and forced a grin. "Yeah. Just thinking how much sand gets in everything out here."

She snorted and turned back to the path. "You’ll get used to it. Or you’ll leave. Either way works for us."

They walked deeper into the village, past training grounds where children practiced wind-release forms and markets that smelled of spice and dried meat. Temari kept trying to draw Shikamaru into conversation—asking about the journey, about Choji’s appetite, about whether the Leaf still considered strategy games a valid form of training. Shikamaru answered in single syllables or lazy shrugs, eyes never quite meeting hers for long. Kael could see the frustration tightening the corners of her mouth. She slowed her pace deliberately, letting the others pull ahead a little, clearly hoping Shikamaru would match her. He did not. He kept walking at the same unhurried speed, hands in pockets, as if the conversation itself was too much effort.

Kael saw the opening and took it. He drifted back until he walked at Temari’s shoulder, close enough that only she could hear.

"You know those little tricks aren’t going to work on him," he said quietly.

Temari’s head snapped toward him. Shock flashed across her face, followed by a sharp defensive edge. "What are you talking about? What tricks?

Kael said "You know you trying to talk with him."

"Why would I want to talk to him so much?"

Kael kept his voice mild. "Come on. I can see it on your face."

Color flooded her cheeks, bright and sudden. "It’s not like that."

"Sure." He let the single word hang for a beat. "If you need actual advice instead of denial, come find me. I know you want to get close with him and you being so half hearted and you know right we’re not staying in this village forever."

Temari stared at him, lips parted, no ready retort coming. Before she could invent one, the group reached a low sandstone building with a wooden sign hanging above the door. The inn sat close to the Kazekage’s mansion, its walls thick against the desert heat, its windows narrow. Temari stopped at the entrance and cleared her throat.

"This is it. Rooms are already paid for. Rest up. Gaara will send for you in the morning."

She lingered a second longer, eyes flicking once more toward Shikamaru, who was already examining the shade under the eaves like it was the most interesting thing he had seen all day. Then she turned and walked away, fan resting on her shoulder, spine straight. Kael watched her go. The last look she threw over her shoulder was not at Shikamaru. It was at him—confused, wary, and just a little bit curious.

Inside the inn the air was cooler. A Sand receptionist handed over keys without small talk. Shikamaru and Choji claimed one room. Sakura and Ino took another, both of them still moving like they had not fully recovered from the previous night. Sasuke disappeared into a third without a word. Kael took the last key and climbed the narrow stairs alone.

His room was simple: low bed, washbasin, a single window that looked out over the rooftops toward the Kazekage’s tower. He dropped his pack, sat on the edge of the mattress, and stared at the quest timer still ticking in the corner of his vision. Two days. Temari. A woman who had never once looked at Naruto with anything warmer than mild exasperation in the stories he remembered.

He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. The system never cared about canon. It only cared about the next name on the list. Somewhere outside, Temari was probably replaying their short conversation, trying to figure out how a loud blond idiot from the Leaf had seen straight through her. Kael smiled without humor. The denial would crack eventually. It always did. And when it did, he would be ready with whatever advice—or whatever else—the quest required.

For now he let the desert quiet settle around him and waited for night.

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Give me power!!!