Naruto-ReBorn as a Baker

Chapter 312: Waiting, Worry, and the Fox-Haired Frustrations

The council hall had quieted hours ago.

The elegant crescent-shaped chamber, once abuzz with introductions and flowing curiosity, now basked in a strange tension—half silence, half fatigue. Soft light still shimmered lazily from the floating crystal lanterns overhead, casting pale gold across the waiting faces of Malik's companions.

It had been seven hours.

Seven hours since Malik stepped alone through the glowing sapphire passageway into Inariko's temple.

Seven hours since the stone doors sealed behind him with fox-like precision and mysterious authority.

Seven hours of not knowing.

No sounds. No signals. Not even magical pings.

And Malik, being Malik, had left no instructions.

At first, Ranke had paced with confidence—storm-charged energy pulsing faintly under her armor, violet eyes narrowed but calm. "He'll be fine," she'd said. "It's Malik. He's allergic to failure."

But now—hours later—she'd moved past worry into something sharper.

She stood near the sealed wall, fists clenched at her sides, frilled blonde hair a disheveled cloud of irritation. "This is stupid," she snapped. "Why seal it like this? They should've given us some kind of update spell or enchanted mail slot or something."

Kamira, lounging nearby with one leg crossed elegantly over the other, offered a bored smirk. "Ranke, darling, you threatening architecture doesn't speed up divine quests."

Fugai, sitting still and straight like a frost-bitten statue, exhaled through her nose, arms folded tightly over her chest as a small fur ball bounced around her. "If he were dead, we'd know."

Ranke spun toward her. "How?"

Fugai's eyes narrowed. "Because it would feel empty. The air would shift. Our chakras would respond. You think someone like Malik disappears quietly?"

That silenced Ranke for about ten seconds.

Then—another growl. "I hate this. I hate waiting. Malik was supposed to be clever—not reckless. That fox goddess better not be playing riddles with his soul."

Across the room, Gen'yūmaru stood perfectly still, leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed. His eyes had been watching the sealed door since hour one. Now, they blinked slowly—but still held no panic.

"He said he'd be fine," Gen'yūmaru offered mildly.

Ranke scoffed. "Malik also once said he could bake blindfolded and lit half a forest on fire."

Kamira tilted her head fondly. "He did finish the cake though."

Gen'yūmaru sighed. "He's not careless. He dives deep—but he knows how to swim."

Haku sat on the edge of the council dais, legs folded neatly, robes flowing like water around him. His presence was calm—serene—but alert. His gaze lingered softly on the sealed wall, his fingers gently tracing invisible patterns across his sleeve.

"I don't think you need to worry quite so sharply," he said finally, voice quiet but clear. "Malik is incredible at adapting to divine spaces. He listens. He sees what others miss. Whatever tests await him, I truly believe he's walking forward—not being dragged."

Ranke didn't respond.

But she didn't argue.

Haku stood, brushing soft silks from his lap, and walked closer.

He stopped beside her, keeping just enough distance to not provoke. "You care for him deeply, as do I," he said gently.

Ranke turned, eyes narrowing. "Oh, do you now?"

Haku smiled faintly. "Anyone can see it. You don't shout for people you don't love."

Ranke's face twisted into a reluctant pout. "I don't shout. I have a very passionate volume."

Kamira coughed pointedly. "You shout."

Fugai didn't comment, but her eyes agreed.

Haku chuckled softly. "I understand why you don't trust me, Ranke. I'm one of Malik's fiancés, one of many, one you haven't met. You think I'm too pretty, too polite, too… polished."

Ranke crossed her arms. "And correct."

"But I'm also here. Waiting with you," Haku said. "Because I love him too."

There was silence.

Then—finally—Ranke sighed. "Yeah, yeah, fine. I don't hate you. Yet."

Kamira gasped. "She said it!"

Fugai nodded once. "Progress."

= = = a good solid hour later Then Decision to Leave (Temporarily) was made = = =

Lady Fuyumi descended from the upper tier of the council quietly. "You all have waited with great patience. But perhaps you should rest."

Ranke was about to protest when Haku stepped in gently. "If you'd like, my home is nearby. Zabuza and I have guest rooms. We won't be leaving the area. And if anything shifts—we'll return instantly."

Kamira raised an eyebrow. "Zabuza? The scary mist swordswoman?"

Haku smiled fondly. "She has questionable manners. But she can be kind. Sometimes."

Fugai stood immediately. "Let's go. If Malik returns and finds us sleep-deprived and cranky, we'll never hear the end of it."

Gen'yūmaru agreed with a quiet nod.

Ranke hesitated.

Then—after glancing at the sealed temple wall one last time—she sighed. "Fine. But I get the room with the balcony. I deserve a view if I'm going to spiral."

Kamira hooked an arm around her. "Come on, drama queen. Let's get you some chamomile and a blanket."

Together, the team departed the council hall.

Not defeated.

Just… waiting.

And promising, in their own way—

That they'd be ready whenever Malik returned.

Because love meant more than worrying.

It meant staying close.

Even if it took all night.

The walk through the mountain village was steeped in gentle snowfall, the late-evening flakes twirling down like delicate paper cranes. Lanterns lit the winding stone path in soft hues of amber and moonlight, casting Haku's group in a warm, reverent glow as they made their way toward his home. The icy silence of the night felt sacred—but more than that, it felt patient, as though the mountain itself understood what waiting for someone like Malik truly meant.

The snowfall was gentle as Haku led the group down winding corridors carved seamlessly into the cliffside. The stone pathways glistened beneath the glow of enchanted lanterns nestled in icy alcoves, casting long streaks of warm amber and silver light that danced across the stone. Each turn in the path whispered centuries of history, and yet, the quiet steps of the small group felt timeless in their own rhythm.

At Haku's side, Gen'yūmaru moved with relaxed precision, his posture mirroring his companion's calm gait, the kind of synchronicity born of old campaigns and shared survival. Neither had spoken much during the first few minutes of the walk, but the silence between them carried the comfortable weight of memory—reminiscences tucked away like folded letters in the sleeve.

Eventually, Gen'yūmaru broke the quiet, flexing gloved fingers against the cold.

"Feels like ten lifetimes since the Kunite campaign," he murmured, glancing sideways. "You haven't slowed down, though. Still unnaturally graceful, like you're afraid the air will scold you for stepping too hard."

Haku's laughter came soft and fluid, nearly blending into the falling snow.

"And you've still got that casually smug tracker vibe," he countered, the edge of his mouth quirking upward. "I half expected you to mellow out. Maybe raise alpacas or teach silent meditation."

Gen'yūmaru raised a brow, deadpan.

"Mellowed? That's bold talk from a man who floats through hallways like a silk scarf and never lets a single strand of hair misbehave."

Haku tilted his head playfully.

"Malik calls that a talent. You'd call it showing off."

Gen'yūmaru smirked.

"I'd call it both. With interest."

Their laughter hung briefly in the air, trailing behind them like a warm ribbon—until—

"Okay," Kamira interrupted, her voice smooth and just sharp enough to cut nostalgia cleanly in half. She stepped forward with practiced poise, her cloak unfurling behind her like falling snow. "Before you two start holding hands and frolicking into friendship flashbacks, I have questions."

"Yeah, same," Ranke added, her steps sharp with mounting impatience. Her violet eyes flickered faintly as her storm-infused chakra buzzed just beneath the surface. "Don't think we didn't notice how serene you looked earlier. Like you were sipping tea while your fiancé is locked in a fox goddess' funhouse. What gives?"

Haku adjusted the sleeves of his robe, his calm demeanor unshaken.

"Ask what you need to. I have no reason to hide anything."

Kamira arched a brow.

"Alright then. How'd you meet Malik?"

A flicker of warmth passed through Haku's features, the memory clearly dear but delicate.

"He offered me tea," he said with faint amusement.

Ranke blinked.

"That's… it?"

Haku chuckled.

"Well… I was also very dead at the time."

Kamira's eyes widened slightly.

"Come again?"

Haku's tone grew a touch more playful, like an actor choosing which parts of the story to keep.

"It's not really a tale I tell often. But after… everything with Zabuza and I, we weren't just metaphorically lost—we were quite literally gone. Malik brought us back. Using water infused with a ridiculous amount of magical energy. In the basement of his enchanted mansion. The room had floating candles, crystalline walls, and a lot of dramatic lighting."

Ranke stared at him.

"Malik has a magical basement chamber?"

"Oh, he absolutely does," Haku nodded. "And… I'm honestly surprised none of you knew, but I blame Malik for not telling you, but to be honest with myself, he most likely just forgot. Anyway, in the process of returning me to life, I may have tried to kill him. I woke up in unfamiliar surroundings covered in glowing runes, and let's just say my first instinct was less 'wow, thank you' and more 'who do I choke. But that thought didn't last long, Malik's presence and his sight wrote something on me.'"

Kamira stifled a laugh.

Haku continued.

"Zabuza was worse, though. She came back mid-bloodlust and assumed Malik was a threat. I had to hold her back before she skewered him into the chandelier. She's calmer now." He paused, then added with practiced grace, "At least toward Malik."

Kamira shook her head with a grin.

"That sounds painfully on-brand."

Ranke eyed him.

"Malik brought you back. Nearly died for it. And still asked you out?"

"He made me tea first," Haku smiled gently. "Then offered a piece of cake shaped like a fox tail. He asked me if I wanted to stay a while. I think he knew I hadn't felt safe in a long time."

There was silence for a moment.

Then Fugai—who had been walking quietly behind them the entire time—held up little Haido in one gauntleted hand. The pup barked once and began chewing on her armor.

"Does your house have space for chaos incarnate?" she asked dryly.

Haku gave her a sincere nod.

"We have a closet full of mismatched quilts and neighbors who refuse to not keep the pantry stocked with food and plenty of cured meats. He'll do fine."

Ranke tilted her head. "You love him?"

Haku's eyes softened. "Deeply."

Kamira's gaze became sharper. "Do you understand what comes with loving someone like Malik? He doesn't fall easily—but when he does, he expects you to survive chaos."

"I do," Haku said calmly. "I've learned to dance through storms."

Ranke crossed her arms. "Hmph."

Kamira raised an eyebrow. "Still sizing him up?"

Ranke glanced at Haku with playful suspicion. "Malik has a type. Pretty, poetic, looks like a breeze and smells like roses. But I'm his favorite because I'm Ranke. No one beats lightning."

Haku chuckled, bowing his head slightly. "Fair enough."

Just behind them, Fugai held up little Haido by his scruff. The wolf pup squirmed happily, gnawing on Fugai's glove.

"Does your house have room for one unstable creature?" Fugai asked.

Haku blinked. "The pup?"

Fugai nodded. "He bites."

Haku smiled. "So does Zabuza."

Haido barked once, as if pleased.

They arrived shortly after—a secluded estate built into the mountainside, its entrance shrouded by layered drapes of enchanted snow silk. The structure was compact but elegant, with glowing charms embedded in the stonework and potted frost-lilies blooming near the stairway.

Inside, the warmth enveloped them instantly.

Haku gestured for them to follow as he led them through the arched corridors. "We have four guest rooms. They're separated by enchanted wards, so you won't hear anyone scream in their sleep. Or sing. Zabuza sometimes sings."

Kamira blinked. "Is she… nice?"

Haku hesitated. "Zabuza's sleeping off a bottle of ghostberry liquor. So yes, tonight she's lovely."

Fugai carried Haido off to the room near the back, giving Haku a nod of appreciation. "He'll chew your boots."

Haku bowed solemnly. "Let him pick the color."

Kamira was next, disappearing into a room with the most luxurious bed.

her eyes scanning the silk-lined bedding with approval.

"Nice. Malik would probably cry at the fabric weight. Ten out of ten."

She muttered something about needing silk to function.

Ranke lingered.

She turned to Haku, squinting. "Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome."

Ranke poked him in the chest lightly. "Still don't trust you, sunshine boy."

"I wouldn't trust me either," Haku replied, his voice serene.

"Hmph."

Ranke poked him again. Then leaned in.

"Malik likes you. A lot."

Haku nodded softly.

"Don't mess it up."

"I won't."

Then she walked into her room, closing the door with a confident thud.

Haku stood in the hallway a moment longer, silent. He let the tension in his shoulders fall.

Then he smiled.

Because he understood now.

Malik didn't just keep the knights close because of loyalty.

He kept them close because they were the parts of himself he never wanted to lose.

And Haku?

He was ready to stand among them.

Even if lightning still watched him with suspicious eyes.