Naruto: Two Worlds - United Destinies.

A warm October morning spread across the school grounds. Despite the mountain chill, the sun provided enough warmth to comfortably settle on the lawn in front of the main building. Under the maples, whose leaves had already turned golden and crimson, an unusual study group had gathered—several dozen shadow clones sitting in a circle, hunched over textbooks and notebooks.

"Guys, I think I've figured out 'their,' 'there,' and 'they're'!" one of the clones exclaimed excitedly.

"Lucky you," grumbled another, drumming his pencil against the textbook page. "I'm stuck on irregular verbs. Who even came up with saying 'went' instead of 'goed'?"

The jinchūriki rubbed his temples. The cloning technique worked wonders for learning, but it came at a price—every new piece of knowledge obtained by a disappearing clone was branded into his consciousness like a hot iron.

Looking at his doubles, the blond remembered a recent conversation with Uchiha. Five days ago, filled with desperation, he had burst into his friend's room.

While the Sharingan user sat by the window, immersed in reading, Naruto paced the room restlessly.

"Argh!" he exclaimed, stopping abruptly. "Even with a hundred clones, this will take six months!"

The initial plan had seemed simple: each clone would study a separate part of the language, and then all the knowledge would come together. But language required more than mechanical memorization—one needed to understand its structure, to learn to think in a new way.

"And what do you want?" his companion's calm voice cut through the stream of thoughts.

The visitor's eyes lit up:

"I have an idea! You can transfer your knowledge to me through chakra!"

Slowly closing his book and keeping his fingers on the cover, Uchiha gave his companion a skeptical look:

"And you think you'll absorb everything right away?"

"Maybe not right away, but definitely faster than six months!" the blond insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Besides, you mastered the language in a couple of days using your Sharingan."

Uchiha sighed deeply, his shoulders dropping slightly. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, as if trying to prevent an oncoming headache, he asked:

"Do you even understand how knowledge transfer through chakra works?"

Freezing for a second, the visitor adopted a thoughtful expression. Scratching the back of his head and ruffling his unruly hair, he answered:

"Uh... you transfer knowledge to me, and I receive it?"

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he gripped the armrests of his chair. When his dark gaze opened again, it reflected patience mixed with mild irritation.

"Not exactly," his voice softened, as if explaining something to a child. "The knowledge will enter your short-term memory. Without active use, it will quickly disappear without making it to your long-term memory."

The jinchūriki's face fell, his bright eyes dimming with disappointment. Sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of his friend, he mumbled:

"Short... what? But I thought it would be simple, dattebayo!"

"Nothing is ever that simple," the corners of Uchiha's lips twitched in a hint of a smile. "Especially with you."

Frowning, the blond furrowed his brows. But suddenly his face lit up, his eyes widening as if struck by a sudden idea.

"What if I keep studying with clones after you transfer the knowledge to me?" he exclaimed, jumping up. "That way I definitely won't forget anything!"

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Uchiha's eyes widened slightly. Something akin to approval flickered in his dark gaze.

"That's... a reasonable thought."

"Hey, I can think too, you know!" the visitor protested, puffing his cheeks. "So how long will it take?"

His friend's gaze became momentarily distant. Absently rubbing his chin, he finally replied:

"I think a few days for the basic knowledge."

"A few days?" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. His eyes shone with excitement. "That's a hundred times faster than six months! Let's do it!"

Slowly rising from his chair, Uchiha approached his friend and carefully placed a hand on his head. The room filled with a soft blue glow as chakra streams connected.

The jinchūriki squeezed his eyes shut, his face tensing as he tried to hold the enormous volume of information in his head. The fingers of the knowledge-giver trembled slightly.

For the next few days, the blond and his clones worked tirelessly on learning English. The information confidently transferred from short-term to long-term memory, forming a solid language foundation.

By the end of the third day, the young shinobi could already read and speak English freely, though an accent still remained.

Blinking, the jinchūriki returned to reality. The clones were still sitting on the grass, bent over their textbooks.

"Hey, guys," the creator addressed them, "let's try something new. Someone read a paragraph from the textbook, and the rest will translate."

The clones nodded in agreement, and soon the lawn was filled with the sounds of hesitant English, mixed with Japanese exclamations and occasional cursing.

"Boss, boss!" one of the doubles jumped up, waving a book. "I found a weird phrase here! 'It's raining cats and dogs.' Can you believe they say that when it's pouring rain?"

Smirking, the young shinobi imagined cats and dogs falling from the sky.

"This language is just crazy, dattebayo!"

The wind swept across the lawn, turning the pages of textbooks. Taking a deep breath, the blond enjoyed a moment of peace in this foreign world. But even now, somewhere inside, anxiety gnawed at him, which he carefully ignored.

His gaze slid to the empty space beside him, where he had hoped to see his friend. Naruto remembered inviting him to join the study session on the lawn, but Sasuke preferred to stay in the library, immersed in studying something he called a "laptop and internet." The jinchūriki snorted, remembering his confusion—these new technologies seemed as incomprehensible to him as the strange idioms of the English language.

Despite his companion's physical absence, the mere fact that his friend was somewhere nearby, in the same school, gave the young ninja a sense of support. They were here together, even if engaged in different activities. This knowledge helped him cope with homesickness and uncertainty about the future.

Daytime was easier. Surrounded by people and busy with studies, the young shinobi could pretend everything was normal. He joked, laughed, and enthusiastically tackled new assignments. But it was just a mask, deceiving not only others but himself as well.

At night, left alone in the darkness of his room, Naruto could no longer hide from reality. Nightmares about home, about friends he might never see again, haunted him as soon as he closed his eyes.

In such moments, the longing became unbearable. But the stubborn shinobi pushed these thoughts deep down, not allowing despair to take over. Each morning he put on the mask of carefreeness again, convincing himself that one day he would find the way home. Although somewhere deep inside, he understood—each day spent here made returning less likely.

Now, sitting on the sunny lawn, he could forget his fears for a while. Smiling, the jinchūriki imagined his friend frowning over books in the library. Perhaps later he should join him, and together they could try to figure out these mysterious "laptops." But for now...

"Alright, people," the creator of the clones commanded, clapping his hands, "let's review the tenses. Who remembers how to form Past Perfect?"

The lawn filled again with the hum of voices—the army of doubles continued their immersion in the English language under the warm rays of the spring sun.

Scott led a small group onto the spacious school lawn, dressed in athletic wear. Beside him, dressed for autumn in a gray suit with red trim, walked Jean, their fingers intertwined in a rare display of affection.

"I can hardly believe it," whispered the telepath, leaning against her companion's shoulder. "It feels like forever since we've had such peaceful moments."

The X-Men leader nodded silently, smiling. The wrinkles around his eyes, hidden behind quartz glasses, became more noticeable—evidence of the exhausting recent months.

"Between training and missions, there's hardly any time to just... breathe," he finally said.

Most of the team couldn't join the impromptu match. Bobby was helping Dr. McCoy in the laboratory, Kitty had organized a girls' night, Kurt was conducting additional German lessons, and Colossus had secluded himself in his studio with a new canvas.

To make up for the lack of players, the experienced leader invited several senior students. It was a rare chance for teenage mutants to feel like ordinary high school students.

Logan brought up the rear, his massive figure contrasting with the light sports attire. Wolverine cast a skeptical glance at the high schoolers in their colorful outfits.

As the group of nine approached the court, an unusual sight appeared before them: dozens of identical Narutos sitting on the grass, surrounded by textbooks and notebooks.

"Is he still studying?" the red-haired telepath looked at her companion in surprise. "I thought he had already learned all the school material."

Automatically adjusting his glasses—a gesture revealing thoughtfulness—the X-Men leader replied:

"His determination is remarkable. But perhaps he really needs a break."

"The kid's going to work himself into the grave at this rate," Wolverine chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Handing the ball to his sullen colleague, Scott headed toward the blond. His gait was confident but relaxed—an unusual state for the ever-collected commander. The others watched with interest, ready to join the upcoming game at any moment.

"Hey, Naruto!" called Scott, approaching closer. "How about taking a break and joining us? We're going to play basketball."

The young ninja looked up, his blue eyes clouded from long reading. He blinked several times, focusing his gaze on Scott, his face expressing fatigue, but at least the words were clear, and he mentally thanked Sasuke for that.

"Basket... ball?" the visitor from another world repeated, as if tasting the word. His eyebrows met at the bridge of his nose, creating a funny expression of concentration. "Is that some kind of training?"

Cyclops couldn't hold back a smile.

"No, it's a game. With a ball," he said, pointing to the orange object in Wolverine's hands. "A great way to stretch out and clear your mind. Besides, it will help you get to know us better."

The young shinobi shifted his gaze from the books to the waiting team. He was already familiar with two of them; the others remained strangers. Their smiles and open postures indicated a genuine desire to include the newcomer in their circle. The telepath tilted her head slightly, her red hair gently swaying in the wind. Even the perpetually frowning Logan looked less tense than usual.

"Well," the blond drawled, scratching the back of his head. His fingers tangled in the light strands, creating even more chaos on his head. "I'm not sure I know the rules..."

"Don't worry," Jean winked, coming closer. "We'll teach you. It's not more complicated than creating clones."

After hesitating for another moment, his face lit up with a broad smile—the kind that seemed capable of illuminating even the darkest day.

"Alright!" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Show me what this basketball is all about!"

Leading the newcomer to the center of the court, the commander began a brief instruction, holding the ball under his arm. Other mutants gathered at the edge of the court, watching the training with interest. The telepath joined them, following the proceedings with mild curiosity.

"So," the instructor began, "the goal of the game is to throw this ball through the hoop." He pointed to the metal structure at the edge of the court: "Each successful shot earns points for your team."

After carefully listening to the explanation, the blond received a demonstration of dribbling.

"This is called 'dribbling the ball.' Try it."

Taking the ball, the shinobi began bouncing it off the ground.

"Good. Now let's try a shot."

After demonstrating the proper technique, the student made his first attempt. The ball flew in a high arc and hit the backboard, almost going through the hoop.

"Good try," encouraged the red-haired instructor. "Try again."

Focusing, the newcomer shot again. This time the ball went through the hoop.

"Excellent shot," said Cyclops, raising an eyebrow slightly in surprise.

"Now let's try defense," suggested the telepath. "Scott will dribble the ball, and you try to take it from him."

The leader began dribbling, moving toward the hoop. The young shinobi reacted quickly, his movements agile and precise. Circling his opponent, he knocked the ball away without breaking any rules.

The teachers exchanged quick glances, reflecting momentary surprise.

"You have good reflexes," noted Cyclops. "Do you play any sports?"

Hesitating for a moment, the blond simply smiled:

"I train a lot!"

After a brief introduction to the basics of the game, the experienced commander surveyed those gathered on the court. Besides the telepath, Wolverine, and the young shinobi, there were several young mutants watching the proceedings with interest.

"Great, we have enough people for a proper game," the instructor announced. "Let's divide into teams."

While the X-Men leader distributed the players, the blond felt a strange excitement growing inside. This was something new, unfamiliar—not the tension he experienced before battle, but rather an anticipation of something fun and carefree.

"Naruto, you'll be on a team with Logan and you three." Cyclops pointed to a group of mutants. "Jean, you're with me and the others."

Approaching the newcomer, Wolverine smirked slightly:

"Ready to show what you can do, kid?"

The shinobi nodded, feeling the corners of his mouth involuntarily turning up into a smile. He couldn't remember the last time he had experienced such simple, pure excitement.

The teams took their positions. The visitor from another world surveyed the court, noting the players' positions. It was similar to preparing for a mission, but without the oppressive sense of danger.

The ball flew into the air, and the game began. Wolverine was the first to touch it, batting it toward his teammate. Catching the ball, the young shinobi felt as if time had slowed down. All his senses sharpened, not from fear or the need to survive, but from pure exhilaration.

Beginning to dribble, the blond dodged the defenders. His body moved instinctively, years of training manifesting in every action. But for the first time in a long while, these skills were being used not for fighting, but for play.

After passing to a teammate, the visitor suddenly realized he was smiling broadly. And this wasn't the mask he often wore to hide his true feelings, but a genuine smile coming from deep within.

Thoughts of war, of Konoha, of his mission—all of it receded to the background, giving way to the simple joy of movement, teamwork, and the spirit of competition.

After his first successful basket, a victorious shout burst from his chest, which was more than just joy from a lucky shot. It was a cry of liberation, a moment of pure, unadulterated happiness.

The young shinobi knew that his fears and anxieties hadn't disappeared—they had simply retreated to the background. But now, when he could do nothing to save his home, these moments of fun and lightness were invaluable. They gave him strength to move forward, not allowing despair to completely take over his soul.

He decided to cherish the memory of this game, these smiles and friendly teasing. So that in dark hours, when doubts and fears would begin to overwhelm him again, he could remember this feeling of belonging and hope, even if fleeting.

The library was quiet. By the window overlooking the sports field, the last of the Uchiha clan sat at a table. An open laptop stood in front of him, with books beside it titled "Computers for Dummies," "Internet: A Step-by-Step Guide," and "Basics of Web Surfing." The Sharingan user occasionally consulted them while making search queries.

The air conditioning was running in the room. A slight grimace of displeasure appeared on the pale face when a sunbeam broke through the blinds, and the young shinobi returned to work.

Shouts were heard from outside. Looking out the window, the dark-haired youth saw Naruto playing on the court. His movements had become lighter, unlike his combat style. After a successful shot, Naruto smiled joyfully.

Uchiha noted to himself: his friend was beginning to adapt to the new world. This was part of the plan—to prepare him gradually for the unpleasant truth.

Returning to his search, the young ninja studied news about mutants and Sentinels. After a week of working with paper books, the speed of obtaining information through the internet was impressive.

He methodically collected data on the "Manhattan Incident," "Black Tuesday," and the "Disappearance of Heroes."

The video of destroyed Manhattan showed the scale of the catastrophe: a 100-meter-wide strip of destruction through 42 blocks, 3,000 dead, 15,000 injured, damage worth 70 billion.

The shinobi paid special attention to Sentinels, noting the evolution of their models from basic to improved versions. The laws against mutants turned out to be very harsh: deprivation of rights, mandatory registration, bans on work, education, and movement.

Bolivar Trask reminded him of Danzo—the same manipulation of public fear and talk about threats to humanity's existence. There was almost no information about mutant resistance, only mentions of arrests and clashes.

Then he shifted his attention to anti-mutant forums to understand people's sentiments and identify dangerous areas.

Having finished with the main sources, the young Uchiha opened YouTube—a site he had discovered accidentally three days ago while searching for news about mutant arrests on Google. The video hosting platform unexpectedly turned out to be a treasure trove of useful information: amateur recordings of mutant raids and eyewitness accounts provided a much more complete picture of the situation than official news. Since then, he regularly checked this resource for new materials.

Now the Sharingan user wanted to find random footage that hadn't made it into the official news reports...

Typing "Black Tuesday" into the search bar, Sasuke began reviewing the results. Among numerous amateur recordings, a video titled "Heroes Fighting Monster: Helicopter Footage" caught his attention. According to the view counter, it had been watched tens of millions of times.

The blurry footage from high altitude showed only the general picture of the battle—flashes of light, human figures that seemed tiny from such a distance. One could distinguish a flying person in red and gold armor, some creature controlling lightning, and a massive figure ramming buildings. The camera shook heavily, often losing focus, but even so, the scale of destruction was impressive.

The last seconds of the recording captured a bright flash somewhere in the park area, after which the video cut off.

After briefly reviewing the description under the video: "The last footage of known heroes before their mysterious disappearance. After this incident, none of them appeared in public again," Sasuke was about to close the tab. But one of the recommended thumbnails on the right caught his attention. It captured a figure glowing gold in the sky. Even in the small preview, this chakra form was unmistakably recognizable.

Naruto.

Playing the video, the young Uchiha saw the glowing figure descending from the sky. The camera trembled; the operator was clearly in shock at what they were seeing. When the figure landed, the golden glow began to fade, revealing a familiar orange jacket and tousled golden hair.

The jinchūriki looked around, clearly disoriented. His face expressed a mixture of surprise and disappointment. Suddenly noticing the camera, the blond widened his eyes in realization, and the next moment the video cut off.

Clicking his tongue in irritation, the dark-haired shinobi remembered how a week ago his companion had created a hundred clones and sent them around the world to look for the mutant who could help them return.

"Damn," the observer muttered, looking at the video statistics. Millions of views. Thousands of comments. "Flying Glowing Mutant," stated the title.

The search for similar recordings began immediately. "Glowing man," "flying mutant," "golden figure in the sky"—with each new result, the researcher's face grew grimmer.

Naruto above the Eiffel Tower. A flash of light in the sky over Tokyo. A strange object over a beach in Rio. His careless friend, without realizing it, had left a digital footprint all over the world.

Leaning back in his chair, the last of the Uchihas realized: the situation was more serious than expected. These weren't just random witnesses—the media was already talking about it.

He needed to warn his friend. Explain that in this world, every step had to be thought through. Their ninja skills would be enough to remain unnoticed, but the problem was in everyday life—when you lose vigilance.

Cameras were everywhere. Any action could be filmed and spread across the network in seconds. Ordinary people were used to this, but for them, possessing unusual abilities, it created a constant risk.

Naruto had always used his powers easily, without thinking. In their world, this was normal. Here, however, any demonstration of abilities could lead to catastrophe.

The young shinobi understood—they would have to learn to live differently. Control every movement, every word. This would be especially difficult for his impulsive friend.

Sasuke slowly closed the laptop and put it in his bag along with several books.

Stepping into the hallway, laughter from the sports field reached his ears. The conversation ahead would not be easy, but necessary. The information found online could affect their safety in this new world. Squinting in the bright sunlight, the dark-haired shinobi searched for the familiar orange figure. Adjusting the strap of his bag, he moved forward. He needed to talk to his friend.

A Naruto clone sat on the grass, studying a grammar textbook. Looking up from the book, he surveyed his surroundings. A game was in full swing on the basketball court: the original was skillfully dodging Scott, who was trying to intercept the ball. Jean held position at the edge of the court, ready to intercept, while Logan, despite his height, confidently took position under the hoop.

Watching the game, the double saw his creator pass the ball to Logan with a laugh. The latter, evading Jean, dribbled the ball between his legs and playfully growled when the girl tried to stop him. The clone felt a pang of envy—that was real life—but he understood the importance of his task.

Movement to the right caught his attention. A girl with a book in her hands was walking toward an old oak tree. Her brown hair with a white streak fluttered in the wind. Dressed in dark jeans, a plaid shirt, and high boots, she looked unusual. The clone noted the long gloves on her hands, strange for a warm day.

The girl, noticing his gaze, turned around. She surveyed the lawn with clones, then looked at the basketball court. A barely noticeable sadness flickered across her face.

The stranger settled under the oak and opened her book. She cast a quick glance toward the clone. Their eyes met, and the young man felt his heart beat faster.

He tried to return to the textbook but couldn't concentrate. His gaze kept returning to the girl. She frowned over difficult passages in the book, occasionally tucking a stray strand behind her ear.

Time passed. Tired of sitting for so long, the clone put aside his book and stretched. He noticed the girl was also stretching her stiff neck.

A sudden thought shot through him like an electric current—this was the perfect chance to meet someone and practice English.

The young man headed toward the oak tree at a measured pace. His heart raced, and his palms became even more moist. As he approached, the stranger noticeably tensed. Gloved fingers convulsively gripped the book; knuckles whitened beneath the fabric. Pulling her knees closer to her chest, she seemed to build an invisible wall around herself.

"Hi!" said the visitor, stopping several steps away. "I'm Naruto. Mind if I sit nearby?"

Rogue surveyed her interlocutor, lingering on his face. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if evaluating the stranger. When their eyes met, the girl froze for a moment. There was something unusual in his eyes—a spark of sincerity she rarely saw in people. His open posture and slight smile radiated friendliness without being intrusive. This made the book owner pause for a second, slightly softening her wariness. After a short pause, she introduced herself and slowly nodded, although her posture remained reserved.

"Thanks," Naruto smiled, settling on the grass at a distance clearly exceeding arm's length. He noticed how his companion barely perceptibly exhaled, her shoulders dropping slightly.

"I often see you here with a book," he lied. "Is it interesting?"

Rogue raised an eyebrow slightly, surprise flickering in her eyes.

"'To Kill a Mockingbird,'" she answered after a pause, her voice soft but reserved. Her fingers automatically stroked the book cover.

"What's it about?" asked Naruto, leaning forward slightly.

The girl momentarily bit her lower lip, as if deciding whether to continue the conversation. Then, to her companion's surprise, she began to speak:

"About growing up, about injustice in the world. About how to remain human when everyone is against you."

Naruto nodded, carefully watching his companion's facial expression.

"Sounds deep. I'm also trying to figure out this world."

Rogue looked at him with renewed interest, her head tilting slightly to the side.

"You're new here?"

"Yes," he confirmed. "Still getting used to it. Even the language is new to me."

"Is that why you're studying English so hard?" Rogue inquired, barely noticeably nodding toward the clones. Her eyes widened momentarily, betraying genuine interest.

"Exactly!" her companion nodded energetically, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "It's not easy, but I don't give up. That's my path... my principle."

The corners of the girl's lips twitched in a hint of a smile. She leaned forward slightly, though still maintaining distance.

"Good principle. Especially in our... special world."

Naruto noticed his companion's fingers automatically gripping the edge of the book.

"Have you been here long?" he asked gently.

"Several years," Rogue replied, her gaze momentarily becoming distant. She paused, as if deciding whether to continue. "This place became my home when nothing else was left."

The young man nodded, his face turning serious.

"I understand. Sometimes it feels like the whole world is against you, right?"

His companion blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting such understanding.

"Yes," she answered quietly. "Exactly."

A pause ensued. Naruto noticed the girl had slightly relaxed her shoulders.

"You know," he said, breaking the silence, "I saw you watching the game. Do you play too?"

Rogue instantly tensed, her features becoming impenetrable.

"No," she answered briefly, averting her gaze. "I... prefer to observe from the sidelines."

Her companion bit his lip, realizing he had touched a sensitive topic.

"Sorry if I said something wrong."

The girl shook her head, her gaze softening.

"It's not your fault. Just... some of us find it harder to participate in such things."

Naruto nodded, deciding to change the subject.

"What else do you enjoy besides reading?"

Rogue pondered for a moment, her fingers absently stroking the book cover.

"I love music. Especially rock."

The young man felt his heart skip a beat. He tried to hide his confusion, but his eyes widened momentarily.

"Oh, yeah, music is great. I also like... different music."

His companion raised an eyebrow slightly, her eyes narrowing as if trying to solve a puzzle.

"Different? What bands do you like?"

Naruto hesitated, feeling color flooding his face. His fingers nervously fidgeted with the edge of his jacket.

"Well, you know... different ones. I'm open to new things."

The girl looked at him intently, understanding flickering in her eyes.

"You don't know much about music, do you?"

The young man exhaled, admitting defeat. His shoulders dropped slightly.

"To be honest, not at all. I... didn't have much opportunity to listen before."

Rogue surprised him by smiling slightly. Her gaze warmed.

"You're unusual, Naruto. In a good way."

Her companion beamed, the tension disappearing. He felt warmth spreading in his chest.

"Thank you! You're very interesting too. I'm glad I came over to meet you."

The girl nodded, her posture becoming slightly more open. She leaned forward a bit, as if sharing a secret.

"Me too. Sometimes... it's useful to see the world through fresh eyes."

The young man felt a connection forming between them. His eyes lit up with an idea.

"You know, maybe we could talk like this sometimes? You could tell me about books, and I... would just listen and learn."

Rogue looked at her companion for a long time, as if assessing his sincerity. She studied his face, looking for signs of deception. Finally, she slowly nodded, her lips curving into a slight smile.

"Okay. I think that would be... nice."

The clone smiled, feeling he had done something important. His heart filled with warmth, and his eyes showed a joyful sparkle.

"Thank you, Rogue. I'll look forward to our conver—"

"Yo," Sasuke's voice suddenly sounded from behind.

The girl flinched and turned sharply, her eyes widening in surprise. Her companion, in contrast, merely turned his head slightly, as if expecting this appearance.

The dark-haired young man stood, casually leaning against the oak trunk, his gaze coldly observing them. His face remained impassive.

"We need to talk," he said, addressing Naruto. His voice was quiet, but there was steel in it. "Now."

Rogue looked at the stranger, and suddenly a strange feeling came over her. That gaze... it was unnaturally heavy for his age. A chill ran down her spine, making her want to shrink back, to hide.

The clone also seemed to feel the change in atmosphere. He frowned slightly, looking at his comrade.

"All right," he replied, rising to his feet. Then he turned to the girl: "Sorry, I have to go. We'll... continue another time?"

Rogue slowly nodded, unable to tear her gaze from the newcomer.

"Yes, of course," she mumbled.

When Naruto approached his friend, the latter merely nodded briefly to the side, indicating a direction. They moved away, leaving her sitting under the oak. She watched them go, feeling the coldness from the stranger's gaze slowly receding but leaving a strange sensation behind.

How had he approached so unnoticeably? Thanks to the power received from Carol, she had enhanced hearing—she could detect even the lightest footsteps at a distance. But this guy... it was as if he had materialized out of thin air. No rustle of grass, no creaking of branches—nothing.

Sasuke stopped in the shadow of the trees, far enough from the school to avoid being overheard. His movements were fluid and precise as he set his bag on the ground and pulled out a laptop. His face remained expressionless, but tension was evident in his eyes.

Naruto watched his companion's actions with confusion, furrowing his brows while curiosity flickered in his blue eyes.

"What's that thing?" He leaned closer, fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of his orange jacket.

"A computer," Sasuke replied curtly, quickly typing something on the keyboard. The corners of his lips turned down slightly, betraying his irritation at having to explain the obvious. "A laptop."

The curious visitor moved even closer, almost touching his friend's shoulder, eyes widening as he examined the monitor.

"And why do we need it?" Impatience rang in his voice, fingers nervously tapping on his knee.

The young Uchiha typed a command quickly, dark eyes focused on the screen.

"You'll see." His voice was quiet but steely.

Naruto watched his friend's confident actions with surprise, mouth slightly open in amazement.

"Damn! You already learned how to use this thing?" He lightly nudged his companion with his elbow, trying to ease the tension.

The dark-haired boy only shot him a cold glance, eyes momentarily flashing red.

"Look," he commanded, turning the laptop around. His movements were sharp, revealing his inner tension.

A video appeared on the monitor. The blond leaned forward, eyes widening and mouth opening in silent surprise. On the screen, a familiar golden figure was descending from the sky.

"Is that... me?" muttered the shinobi, his voice faltering. His fingers clenched, crumpling the fabric of his pants.

Sasuke nodded, his jaw tightening.

"One of your clones. This video has millions of views." His voice remained even, but concern flickered in his eyes.

"What do you mean—views?" asked the jinchuriki, not taking his eyes off the monitor. His eyebrows furrowed, creating a wrinkle on his forehead.

"It means millions of people around the world have seen your clone," explained Uchiha. His fingers slightly tightened on the edge of the laptop. "And this isn't the only video."

He immediately switched to another clip, then another. On the screen, Naruto's clones appeared in different parts of the world: above a huge iron tower in a beautiful city, on a wide beach crowded with people, in the sky over an endless sea of skyscrapers. With each new frame, the viewer's face grew paler, and his eyes wider. Memories flooded back like a wave—he remembered everything his copies had seen and felt.

Hovering above the city with that strange tower, his chakra spreading throughout the area, scanning for unusual energy signatures. At the noisy beach, his heightened senses detecting the slightest fluctuations in the surrounding environment, trying to discover traces of something similar to the aura of mutants. Above the city where buildings reached the sky itself, using sage mode to sense any anomalies in this enormous concentration of people. Each memory was vivid, alive, and now the jinchuriki realized just how noticeable he had been in his searches.

"Damn," Naruto cursed, finally grasping the scale of the problem. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles turning white. "I didn't think..."

"Exactly," Sasuke cut him off, his voice becoming sharper. "You didn't think. Now the whole world knows about us." His eyes narrowed, barely contained anger evident in them.

The blond ran his hand through his hair, making it even more disheveled. His face darkened, guilt appearing in his eyes.

"So what now? Will they find us?" His voice wavered, revealing the fear he was trying to hide.

Uchiha snapped the laptop shut with a sharp click.

"Possibly. But that's not the most unfortunate part." His fingers lingered momentarily on the smooth surface, betraying his inner tension.

"Then what is?" asked Naruto, leaning closer. His shoulders tensed, a worried gleam appearing in his eyes.

"The mutants," answered his companion, his voice becoming quieter but threatening. "They might realize we're not who we claim to be."

Dark eyes narrowed, and he continued:

"I've studied a lot of information online about mutants. Usually, they possess one, maximum two abilities. But you've already demonstrated much more. Clones, flight, speed..." Sasuke shook his head. "Right now they might think we're some special kind of mutants from another world, but the more they observe us—the faster they'll understand that we're completely different."

The blond clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. His face grew even paler, and fear flickered in his eyes.

"You think they'll kick us out?" he asked in a trembling voice.

His companion momentarily closed his eyes, his features contorting as if in physical pain.

"That's the best-case scenario," he said grimly, opening his eyes again. Concern was evident in his gaze. "The worst—they decide we're a threat."

Naruto swallowed, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing. The young man remembered how warmly he'd been welcomed at the school, how Rogue had just smiled at him. His eyes darkened with determination, jaw tightening.

"We can't let that happen," he stated firmly.

"That's why you need to be more careful," Sasuke replied sharply, his gaze piercing his companion's face, fingers nervously tapping on his knee. "No more clones. No flying. No demonstrations of power."

The shinobi nodded slowly, his expression becoming serious. He bit his lower lip, clearly struggling with an internal conflict.

"Got it. What about you?" he asked, leaning closer to his friend.

"I'll continue monitoring the situation," Sasuke answered, his fingers touching the laptop again as if seeking support. "If anything new comes up, I'll let you know."

"What about finding a way back home?" The jinchuriki's voice conveyed undisguised longing. His shoulders slumped, and his gaze became distant, as if mentally transported back to his native Konoha.

The dark-haired boy froze momentarily. His face contorted for a split second, as if in internal pain, but quickly regained control. When he spoke, his voice was even, though a shadow flickered in his eyes.

"That's still the priority. But now we must act even more cautiously."

Naruto took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping further. He tousled his hair with a nervous gesture.

"Fine. I'll try not to attract attention."

"Try?" The dark-haired youth sharply raised an eyebrow, his gaze becoming sharp as a blade. He leaned forward, reducing the distance between them. "You must be certain."

"Alright, alright." His companion raised his hands in a placating gesture, a weak, almost forced smile appearing on his face. "I'll be careful. I promise."

Uchiha scrutinized his partner's features, as if assessing the sincerity of his words. His own face remained tense, the muscles in his jaw visibly pronounced.

"Good. Remember, not only our safety is at stake, but the safety of everyone at the school."

The jinchuriki nodded, his expression becoming resolute, a steely glint appearing in his eyes. He straightened up, as if shaking off the weight of doubt.

"I understand. I won't let you down."

The young shinobi slowly put the laptop back in his bag, his movements precise and economical. He avoided meeting his companion's gaze.

"Go back to your studies. But remember what I said."

"What about you?" asked Naruto, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. He took a step forward, as if trying to hold his friend back.

"I have things to do," Uchiha replied curtly, his face becoming an impenetrable mask again. His fingers momentarily clenched into a fist, revealing his inner tension. "See you later."

The blond watched the retreating figure dissolving into the shadow of the trees. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily in his chest. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly afraid. Not for himself, but for those who might suffer because of his carelessness.

The clone decided to wait until the original finished playing, and then disperse. His steps were heavy, his gaze fixed on the ground. His thoughts revolved around how dramatically their lives had changed, and what lay ahead. One thing he knew for certain—he would make no more mistakes that could put his new friends and their only refuge in this alien world at risk.

Professor's Office. Night.

Charles sat at his desk, watching videos on YouTube. On the screen, a human figure surrounded by golden light was descending from the sky. When the glow disappeared, he recognized a familiar young man.

"Naruto," whispered the professor.

The telepath quickly opened the next video. And another. And another. With each new clip, his face became increasingly puzzled.

Then the school's director opened a folder with security system archives and selected a file from a week ago. He had viewed this recording multiple times, but now, in light of new discoveries, every detail could take on new meaning. The screen filled with a grainy image of a forest edge at the boundary of the school grounds. The experienced mutant leaned back in his chair, preparing to analyze every frame of this mysterious scene once again, hoping to catch what he might have missed before.

After a few seconds, the blond appeared in the frame, his figure only partially visible.

He watched attentively as the young man formed strange hand signs, and dozens of his copies appeared from nowhere, filling all available space in the frame.

Suddenly, part of Sasuke's head appeared in the corner of the frame. His face was barely distinguishable, but his voice, though with interference, could be made out:

"What are you doing?"

"Let the clones search for that mutant girl for now," Naruto replied. "I can sense they emit a different energy. This way I might at least find her, and we could return home."

Charles turned off the recording. In the silence of the office, the words of the mysterious student seemed to still echo: "Return home...", "I can sense they emit a different energy..."

Years of experience had taught the school's founder patience, but now it came with difficulty. The mystery before him was too intriguing to simply wait.

The wise telepath rubbed his temples, recalling the events of the past week. When he first saw this recording, he decided to give the newcomers time to adapt, not wanting to frighten them with premature questions. The teacher hoped they would open up on their own when ready. Besides, the school was a safe place, and he saw no immediate threat.

The director formed a steeple with his fingers, his gaze becoming distant. Curiosity battled with caution, intuition with logic.

After a long pause, he finally made a decision. His hand reached for the communicator. It was time to share this puzzle with those he trusted most.

"Scott," said the professor when the voice of one of his first students came through. "I need you to gather the team. Only the most trusted ones."

"Has something happened, Professor?" Scott's voice conveyed concern.

"I'm not sure yet," Charles replied, his gaze returning to the monitor of the turned-off computer. "But it concerns our new students. Naruto and Sasuke. Gather everyone in my office in an hour. And make sure nobody else knows about this."

"Understood, Professor. We'll be there in an hour."

An hour later

After the last recording faded from the screen, a heavy silence hung in Charles's office. Scott Summers, standing by the window, turned to those present:

"This will draw attention to the school. The recordings are already online, millions of people are watching them."

The director folded his hands on the desk:

"I understand your concern, Scott. But Hank's research results point to something much more unusual." The telepath paused. "Their DNA differs from human more than any mutant we've encountered. And the language they spoke when they appeared... Linguists claim it's some unknown dialect of Japanese. A dialect that simply doesn't exist."

Jean Grey, who had been silent until now, leaned forward:

"So when we supposed they weren't from our world..."

"We were right," the professor finished. "All data indicates that Naruto and Sasuke came from another reality. From a world very different from ours."

Rogue, who had maintained silence, suddenly straightened:

"About Sasuke. When I was talking with Naruto's clone, everything was fine. But when he appeared..." The girl fell silent, as if choosing her words. "There was something in his gaze. Something... heavy. Almost frightening." She nervously adjusted a white strand of hair. "And I didn't hear his footsteps. At all. And my hearing is enhanced by Carol's abilities."

"And Naruto seems like his opposite," added the telepath. "Open, loud. But sometimes... sometimes something similar flickers in his eyes."

The wise mentor nodded:

"That's exactly why I told Naruto about Ulyana. About her ability to create portals between worlds."

The team leader turned abruptly:

"You told him about her? Professor, we agreed..."

"That we would help anyone who comes to us seeking refuge or assistance," the teacher firmly concluded. "They are lost in a foreign world, Scott. And perhaps the only way for them to return home is to find Ulyana."

Logan, who had been silently smoking a cigar by the fireplace, straightened up:

"If we start questioning them about their powers, they might get scared and leave." He flicked off ash. "You saw how these clones crossed half the world in minutes. God knows what else he's capable of. No, for now we should act quietly and wait."

"Logan is right," Xavier nodded. "But it's not just about their power. Naruto, for all his openness... Sometimes something similar to Sasuke's gaze flickers in his eyes."

"And yet," Scott turned to the school's founder, "how should we proceed?"

The telepath leaned back in his chair, his gaze becoming thoughtful:

"We will observe, but not pressure. Give them time to adapt, to understand our world." He surveyed the gathered individuals. "But most importantly—we must make the school a place where they feel safe. Where they can trust us."

"And if they never open up?" doubt was still audible in the leader's voice.

"Then that will be their choice," Jean replied gently. "We all know what it's like to bear the burden of a secret."

Gradually, the team began to disperse. Each was immersed in their thoughts, realizing that the familiar world had once again become a bit larger and more mysterious. The young mutant girl was the last to linger, as if she wanted to add something, but changed her mind and quietly left, leaving the director alone with his reflections.

In the ensuing silence, the gray-haired telepath gazed long at the night sky outside the window. Somewhere out there, among the stars, there possibly existed a world from which these unusual guests had come. A world full of its own secrets and powers, beyond even his experienced mind. And while the golden figure continued its nightly flights in search of a way home, one could only wait and hope that the chosen path would prove correct.

Bobby was the last to leave the office. A small fly, inconspicuously sitting on his collar, took flight and followed the group. The insect kept to the shadows, using wall projections as cover as the mutants dispersed through the school corridors.

Reaching the first floor, the tiny observer flew out through an open window. The cool night air caught it, but the fly confidently headed for the far edge of the garden, where tall oaks created a natural shelter.

In a small clearing lay a dark-haired youth, his gaze fixed on the night sky. Hearing the familiar buzzing, he raised his hand. The insect settled on his finger and dissolved in a puff of smoke. A flood of information poured into Sasuke's consciousness, causing him to momentarily close his eyes.

"So they already know," said the shinobi, opening his eyes.

Several hours earlier, the young Uchiha had wandered the forest searching for a suitable insect. He needed a specific size of fly—small enough to remain unnoticed, but large enough to maintain a stable transformation.

When the target was found, the observer activated his Sharingan. The world around gained crystalline clarity, allowing him to study every detail of the tiny creature. The youth methodically examined the structure of the wings, compound eyes, nervous system—everything required to create a perfect copy.

The process took several hours. His eyes ached from the strain, but the shinobi didn't allow himself to be distracted. When the study was complete, he created a shadow clone and began the transformation.

It was a complex technique, requiring absolute control over chakra. The master formed the clone's new body cell by cell, directing energy flows with surgical precision. The slightest error could lead to the entire operation's failure.

Now, having received information about the conversation in Xavier's office, the young warrior reassessed their position. Hidden cameras in the forest changed everything. Even this refuge among the trees no longer seemed safe.

Naruto caused particular concern. His companion had always been too open, too trusting. In a world where a camera might hide behind every tree, such behavior became dangerous.

"We'll have to communicate through Sharingan genjutsu," the observer decided. This technique guaranteed absolute privacy for their conversations. No technology in this world could intercept their mental exchange.

The young shinobi rose to his feet, his gaze sliding over the dark outlines of the school. Despite all the hospitality of its inhabitants, a warrior's instincts wouldn't allow him to relax. Their abilities, unusual even for the world of mutants, should not be revealed without absolute necessity.

"It's as if we're in enemy territory again," thought the dark-haired visitor, and this thought seemed surprisingly familiar. Every word, every gesture could now be recorded and analyzed. In a world full of hidden threats, trust became an unaffordable luxury.

Two days later.

Wrapped in a blanket, the mutant lay on her bed, staring at her phone screen. The bluish glow cast ghostly highlights on Rogue's pale face, making her distinctive white streak glow in the darkness. Her finger touched the play button once again.

The blurry footage on the screen showed a golden radiance above nighttime Paris. A swift figure cut through the clouds, leaving a trail of mysterious luminescence. Holding her breath, the girl scrutinized every detail of the recording. When the glow dimmed, the camera captured a familiar face—the same strange markings on the cheeks, the same open smile.

The next video transported the viewer to the rooftops of Tokyo skyscrapers. The mysterious blond moved with such speed that he almost merged with the air. Comments beneath the video swarmed with various theories: some considered him a new mutant, others an alien, and some thought he was the result of government experiments.

Within the walls of their sanctuary, Naruto seemed so... ordinary. He laughed, played ball with other students, frowned in confusion at modern technology. But these recordings revealed a completely different side of his personality.

The next clip, filmed on a beach in Rio, shook in the operator's unsteady hands. Despite the quality of the footage, one could see the mysterious visitor landing at the ocean's edge. For several long moments, he stood motionless, gazing at the horizon. The wind tousled his golden hair, and in his eyes the color of summer sky, there was a hidden sadness.

Her fingers froze above the screen, pausing the video. In this moment, his face expressed such... loneliness. A familiar feeling—the same expression her mirror showed her every morning.

Suddenly the screen went dark—the battery had finally died. With a heavy sigh, the young mutant set her phone on the nightstand.

Rising from the couch, she realized that sleep had completely abandoned her, while thoughts continued to swirl in her head.

The soft carpet muffled her steps as Rogue stealthily moved through the dark corridor. The coolness of the night air penetrated even through the thick fabric of her clothes, making her wrap her arms tighter around herself.

Approaching the kitchen, her sensitive hearing caught muffled voices. The young woman froze, listening. Her heart skipped a beat—behind the door, Naruto and his inseparable companion were talking. Their conversation abruptly stopped, as if the speakers sensed someone's presence. For a moment, the uninvited guest hesitated between curiosity and the desire to return to her room. Thirst and interest ultimately prevailed.

The bright light of the kitchen lamps made her squint when the door yielded to a gentle push. Blinking, the unexpected visitor surveyed the room. The silent Uchiha sat at the table, clutching a cup of tea. His dark eyes, attentive and wary, instantly fixed on the newcomer, making her inwardly shrink.

By the window, casually leaning against the sill, stood the object of her recent study. At the sight of the night visitor, his face transformed: thoughtful sadness gave way to a broad smile. But the experienced gaze of one accustomed to hiding her own feelings immediately noticed the falseness—the smile didn't reach his blue eyes.

"Yo, Rogue!" the mysterious shinobi exclaimed energetically, although notes of fatigue slipped into his voice. "Can't sleep either?"

Xavier's student nodded, carefully studying his face. Dark circles under his eyes betrayed sleepless nights. His normally unruly light hair now seemed droopy. Even his straight posture had been replaced by a barely noticeable stoop, as if an invisible burden lay on his shoulders.

"Yeah, wanted something to drink," she answered quietly, heading toward the refrigerator. "Why are you two up?"

Naruto shrugged, his smile slightly dimming.

"We can't sleep either."

As she poured juice, the daughter of the D'Ancanto family observed the school's second guest from the corner of her eye. Sasuke maintained his silence, but his presence was physically felt. The piercing gaze of dark eyes followed her every movement. This attention evoked conflicting feelings—a mixture of fear, curiosity, and a strange sensation as if he could see right through her.

"Are you... okay?" asked the mistress of the night kitchen, shifting her gaze between the night visitors. "You look exhausted."

The blond laughed, but the laugh sounded unnatural.

"We're completely fine! Just... resting, right, Sasuke?"

The dark-haired boy responded with only an indeterminate sound, taking a sip of tea longer than necessary.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Rogue slowly sipped her juice. The tension in the room grew with each second of silence. The energetic shinobi shifted from foot to foot, his gaze darting between the others in search of a way to defuse the atmosphere.

Gathering all her resolve, the keeper of others' memories took a deep breath.

"Listen," she began, looking at both of them, "I'm heading into town tomorrow morning. Want to come along?"

Naruto's face instantly brightened, sincere interest lighting up in his eyes.

"Really? That would be great, dattebayo!"

The mutant froze upon hearing the strange word. An inquiring glance darted toward the speaker, but he seemed not to notice his own slip.

Uchiha slowly set his cup on the table.

"And what's the purpose of this trip?" he asked, piercing his interlocutor with a sharp gaze.

A chill ran down her spine under this intense scrutiny. Taking a sip of juice to hide a moment's confusion, she hesitated briefly. But then decided to trust her intuition and tell the newcomers the truth.

"Well," she began, lowering her voice, "I'm planning to deliver supplies to one of the shelters for mutants."

Naruto's eyes widened, and his silent companion leaned forward, clearly interested.

"Shelter?" echoed the curious shinobi.

For the next few minutes, Rogue told them about the secret network of shelters for persecuted mutants and how the school's inhabitants help their hunted brethren. With each word, Naruto's face grew more serious, and Sasuke listened attentively, not averting his piercing gaze.

"How risky is it?" inquired the possessor of dark eyes, his quiet voice ringing with tension.

The experienced resistance member didn't sugarcoat reality. She honestly described the dangers of such missions, while emphasizing the importance of this work for the survival of their people.

The visitors from another world exchanged a long look, as if conducting a silent dialogue. Finally, Naruto turned to her with a resolute expression.

"We'll help," he stated firmly. "You can count on us!"

A slight smile touched Rogue's lips. Perhaps her intuition hadn't failed her with these two.

"Good," she said, becoming serious. "Then we'll meet tomorrow at two-thirty at the main entrance. I'll wait by the car."

The energetic blond nodded decisively, his eyes shining with anticipation.

"We won't be late, I promise!" he exclaimed, then became embarrassed by his own enthusiasm and added more quietly: "I mean, we won't let you down."

"See you tomorrow. Rest well, it's going to be a challenging day."

As the door closed behind her, the young mutant slowly made her way down the corridor to her room, contemplating the upcoming day and her unusual helpers.

Turning away from the window, the young shinobi met the gaze of his friend, who still sat at the table, pensively contemplating the empty cup. The silence that filled the kitchen after Rogue's departure seemed almost tangible.

A deep sigh escaped his chest, as if trying to lighten the burden that had been pressing on his shoulders for the past days. Fatigue had left its mark on the young shinobi's face—once bright blue eyes had dimmed, and the dark circles beneath them had become even more prominent. His hair, tousled by fingers, refused to settle.

Nights had become a real ordeal. Nightmares grew increasingly realistic, tormenting his exhausted mind. In them, a destroyed Konoha came to life, and familiar faces dissolved into emptiness, leaving behind only echoes of helplessness and despair. Each time he closed his eyelids, the last jinchuriki battled panic attacks.

His thoughts involuntarily returned to the recent conversation in genjutsu. There, in the space created by the Sharingan, Sasuke shared a disturbing discovery—the X-Men were discussing videos where the Fourth's son descended from the heavens over France. Relief at their decision not to rush things mingled with growing anxiety.

His friend's words echoed in his consciousness: "To them, we're a threat." The heir of the Uchiha clan, always perceptive, had spent considerable time studying the history of the mutant world. His conclusions made his heart clench with anxiety.

A lump formed in his dry throat. The possessor of Kurama's power had never viewed his abilities as something frightening. They were a tool for protection, a means to help those in need. But in this reality, the same power could generate a wave of fear and hatred.

Nuclear weapons—a new concept that Sasuke had explained with frightening clarity. The ability to wipe a city from the face of the earth with a single strike. The comparison with their own might caused him to shudder: the bijuu-dama, the perfect Susanoo—didn't they carry the same destructive potential?

His gaze fell to his own palms. How many times had they risked their lives to save others? Now these same hands could become a symbol of terror for an entire world. This realization weighed on his shoulders, preventing him from finding a simple answer. How to prove peaceful intentions when your very nature causes panic?

Sasuke's advice about concealing their true capabilities took on new depth. In a world where even mutants became outcasts, what fate awaited possessors of power capable of changing the course of history?

Anxiety grew within him. The dream of recognition, the aspiration to become Hokage and protect his native village—all this now seemed like naive fantasies of a child. In the new reality, the very existence of shinobi of their level was perceived as a planetary-scale threat.

His gaze involuntarily slid to the place where the unusual girl had recently stood. Her appearance—a white streak among dark hair, mesmerizing green eyes—awakened memories of travels with Jiraiya. Such features they had encountered only in a few distant villages.

Thoughts of the past brought another wave of pain. A sharp movement of his head didn't help dispel the uninvited images.

Feeling the weight of silence pressing on his shoulders, the last Uzumaki shifted his gaze to his friend.

"Yo," his voice sounded cracked, betraying accumulated fatigue. "Do you think this trip will help us better understand the local world?"

The heir of the Uchiha clan raised his head, carefully studying his companion. His keen gaze noted how his comrade staggered before finding support in the window frame—as if existence itself required too much energy.

"Perhaps," Sasuke responded after a long pause. Thoughtfulness permeated his restrained tone. "But we need to exercise caution. We can't be sure of these people's true intentions."

The jinchuriki nodded slowly, his gaze clouding as if his thoughts had drifted far beyond the night kitchen.

"You know," vulnerability slipped into his trembling voice, "I'm glad for her invitation. Maybe it will help us take our minds off... everything else."

The Sharingan wielder silently observed his friend. His face remained impenetrable, but something akin to sympathy flickered in his dark eyes.

"Don't forget our position," Sasuke quietly reminded him. "We're strangers here. Don't let a momentary sympathy dull your vigilance."

A faint smile touched the Fourth's son's lips. Even such restrained care from his friend warmed his tormented soul.

"Don't worry, I remember that," a measure of his former confidence returned to his voice. "But... sometimes you just want to believe in the best."

Sasuke's silence spoke louder than words, and his gaze lost its usual sharpness. He understood: Naruto needed this spark of hope, even if the last Uchiha himself couldn't share such optimism.

Noon

A leaden sky hung over New York like a heavy dome, ready to burst into rain at any moment. Rogue's old Volvo V70 slowly made its way through the dense flow of traffic. The urban symphony—roaring engines, impatient honks, and distant wailing sirens—enveloped the car.

A tense silence hung in the vehicle's interior, broken only by the melancholic notes of "Take Me Down" by The Pretty Reckless. Rogue's gloved fingers nervously tapped a rhythm on the steering wheel, and her attentive green eyes occasionally met the enthusiastic gaze of her passenger in the rearview mirror.

The last Uchiha occupied the front seat, maintaining outward calm, but his keen gaze continuously analyzed their surroundings. A dark t-shirt and gray leather jacket created the image of an ordinary teenager.

In the back seat, Naruto fidgeted, absorbing every detail of the new world with wide-open eyes. His carelessly tucked gray t-shirt only emphasized his excited state. The jinchuriki constantly pressed against the window, leaving breath marks on the glass, and then hurriedly wiped them away with his sleeve.

"This is... amazing," whispered Minato's son, shifting his gaze from one skyscraper to another. "They're taller than the tallest buildings in Konoha."

The mutant behind the wheel cast an understanding glance in the mirror, a slight smile touching her lips.

"Welcome to New York," she replied. "The city that never sleeps."

Naruto nodded absent-mindedly, clearly missing the meaning of the phrase. Suddenly his face contorted, his nose wrinkling from the sharp smell that penetrated the car.

"What's that stench?" he exclaimed, recoiling from the window and covering his nose.

The daughter of the D'Ancanto family sighed, her gaze momentarily clouding.

"Gasoline," she explained. "Fuel for cars. You'll get used to it over time."

"And you use this... everywhere?" the shinobi asked incredulously, still holding his nose.

"Mostly," Rogue nodded. "Most transportation runs on it. There are alternatives, but gasoline still leads."

Gradually growing accustomed to the smell, the young ninja returned to studying the urban landscape—colorful signs, screaming billboards, and the endless stream of pedestrians.

His body suddenly tensed. At a street corner, in a specially designated area, loomed a colossal metal figure.

"Is that..." the words caught in his throat.

"A Sentinel," Rogue grimly confirmed. "Number thirteen, to be precise."

Naruto couldn't tear his gaze from the mechanical giant. The robot dominated the crowd, its hull dimly gleaming even in the overcast light. Its head turned slowly, scanning the street with unwavering sensors.

"Incredible," the shinobi exhaled, admiration and anxiety mingling in his voice.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Bitterness permeated Rogue's tone. "They hunt people like us."

The jinchuriki's face grew serious.

"So these Sentinels are everywhere?" he asked, and new notes sounded in his voice.

The mutant nodded, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"Almost on every corner," she answered quietly. "And not just in New York. Throughout the country."

The young shinobi leaned back in his seat, his face taking on an unusually serious expression. A quick glance toward his friend remained unanswered—the last Uchiha continued to silently study the road ahead.

The car slowly moved forward, leaving the mechanical guardian behind. The jinchuriki looked back once more, following the ominous figure with his eyes until it disappeared around the corner.

Suddenly Rogue turned onto a less busy street. Here the flow of traffic noticeably thinned, allowing the old Volvo to increase its speed.

Soon the car slowed down at the curb near an unassuming little shop. The modest sign, "Maggie's Organics"—simple green letters on a white background—seemed the embodiment of ordinariness. Windows filled with crates of fresh vegetables and fruits created the image of a typical health food store.

Turning off the engine, the daughter of the D'Ancanto family turned to her companions. Her attentive gaze studied the faces of the visitors from another world.

"Can you help with unloading?" she asked in an everyday tone, as if they were simply delivering groceries.

Naruto nodded energetically, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.

"Of course, datte—" he cut himself off mid-word, remembering the need to hide his otherness.

Sasuke responded with a barely perceptible nod, maintaining an inscrutable expression.

When the door opened, cool air rushed into the car. The Fourth's son climbed out, took a deep breath, and immediately started coughing—the smell of exhaust fumes hit his nose with renewed force.

"How do you live with this?" he mumbled, covering his nose with his sleeve.

The mutant cast an understanding glance at him.

"You'll get used to it," she replied, heading to the trunk. "Though personally, I'd prefer never to get used to this smell."

The wagon's open trunk revealed ten cardboard boxes. Rogue confidently picked up one of them with a movement that betrayed years of experience in such operations.

"Here," she said, handing the load to the young shinobi.

Naruto accepted the box, surprised by its weight. His glance darted to his friend—who was already holding his own burden, patiently waiting for instructions.

After closing the trunk, Rogue led them to the entrance. Minato's son's eyes continued scanning the surroundings. The street looked painfully ordinary: hurrying pedestrians, passing cars, distant dog barking—perfect cover for a covert operation.

The bell above the door chimed treacherously. Naruto blinked, adjusting to the subdued lighting. The air inside the store was filled with aromas of fresh fruits and spicy herbs. Shelves were dotted with packages bearing inscriptions that were now easily readable thanks to English lessons.

Behind the counter, they were greeted by a young man with a friendly face. His gaze instantly found Rogue, exchanging a barely noticeable nod with her.

"Welcome," he said deliberately loudly, playing the role of a hospitable salesman. "Please proceed to the back room for unloading."

Rogue nodded and led her companions through a narrow passage between shelves to an inconspicuous door at the back of the store. Naruto noticed how tension slightly released her shoulders once they were hidden from prying eyes.

In the back room, they were met by a middle-aged woman with short graying hair and penetrating brown eyes. The proprietor's face broke into a smile at the sight of the visitor.

"Maggie," the girl with the white streak said quietly. "This is Naruto and Sasuke. They're... new."

The sanctuary keeper gave both an appraising look, lingering for a moment on the unusual facial features of the blond young man.

"Welcome," she said, her voice warm but wariness evident in her eyes. "Follow me."

The woman approached a large refrigerator in the corner of the room and opened the door. Naruto expected to see shelves with food, but instead, behind the door was a narrow passage leading downward.

"Watch your step on the stairs," the owner warned, beginning to descend.

The shinobi cast a quick glance at his friend, but the Uchiha's face remained inscrutable. Only a slight tension in his shoulders betrayed his readiness for any surprises.

They descended the stairs and found themselves in a spacious basement. The jinchuriki looked around in surprise: there were rows of beds, cabinets with clothes and food, even a small kitchen in the corner. Several people in the room looked curiously at the newcomers.

"This is our sanctuary," Maggie explained, gesturing around the room. "Here we hide mutants who need help."

The young shinobi set his box on the floor and looked around carefully. His eyebrows drew together when he noticed strange devices on the walls.

"What about the Sentinels?" asked the visitor, remembering the huge robot they had seen on the street. "Can't they detect this place?"

The keeper smiled, approval flickering in her eyes.

"Good question," she noted. "See these devices on the walls?"

Maggie pointed to small black boxes attached at regular intervals.

"These devices create a field that masks the genetic signatures of mutants. Thanks to them, Sentinels could stand right above us and not notice anything suspicious."

Uzumaki approached one of the devices, his eyes widening in surprise and admiration. The young man reached out as if wanting to touch it, but at the last moment stopped, casting a questioning glance at the owner.

"May I?" he asked, his voice full of childlike curiosity.

The keeper nodded, and the visitor carefully ran his fingers over the smooth surface of the device. It vibrated slightly under his touch, emitting a barely audible hum.

"Amazing," murmured the blond shinobi.

Uchiha, who had been silent until now, moved closer, his dark eyes carefully studying the technology.

"How far does the effect of this field extend?" he inquired, his voice quiet but tense.

The owner turned to him, clearly surprised by this question.

"About fifty meters in all directions," she answered. "That's enough to conceal the entire basement and part of the building above it."

Naruto broke away from studying the device and looked around again. Now he noticed the people—mutants, as he understood—who warily observed the newcomers. Some looked exhausted and frightened, others simply tired.

"How many... how many people are here?" asked the jinchuriki, his voice becoming quieter, as if afraid to disturb the sanctuary's inhabitants.

Rogue, who had been silently observing the proceedings until now, approached him.

"Usually between fifteen and twenty people take shelter here," the mutant explained. "Some stay for a few days, others for weeks or even months until we find a safer place for them."

The young man nodded, his face becoming serious. He remembered his companion's words about how difficult life was for mutants in this world, and now, seeing this sanctuary, he began to truly understand the scale of the problem.

"What's in the boxes we brought?" he asked, pointing to the cargo at the entrance.

The keeper approached the boxes and opened one of them.

"Food, medicine, clothing—everything necessary for living," she explained. "We try to provide our charges with all essentials while they're here."

Uzumaki peered into the box, seeing neatly packaged food and bottles of water. His heart clenched at the thought that these people were forced to hide and live on such meager supplies.

"Can we help somehow?" he asked, turning to the women. "Maybe arrange things or..."

The girl with the white streak smiled gently, placing a gloved hand on the visitor's shoulder.

"You're already helping," she said. "By being here, by being willing to help. That means a lot."

Sasuke, standing slightly apart, observed the proceedings attentively. His face remained impassive, but something resembling understanding and possibly respect for what these people were doing flickered in his eyes.

The owner began giving instructions for unloading supplies, and soon the shinobi, having already unloaded the remaining boxes from the car, were helping to unpack them and arrange products on shelves. Naruto worked with enthusiasm, trying to smile at everyone who passed by. Some mutants responded with shy smiles, others still remained wary.

While the friends worked, Rogue explained the intricacies of the sanctuary's operation: how the security system was organized, how residents rotated, how communication with other safe houses was maintained.

"It's an entire network," the girl with the white streak said quietly, helping the blond shinobi arrange cans of food. "We try to ensure safety for as many mutants as possible, but..." she paused momentarily, and her eyes darkened, "there are more and more of them, and our resources are limited."

Rogue's words echoed in the jinchuriki's head as he mechanically arranged cans on shelves.

"More and more of them, and our resources are limited," the young man repeated in a whisper, and his blue eyes darkened with the flood of memories.

The young shinobi surveyed the basement, his gaze sliding over the mutants' faces. In their eyes, he saw the same fear and loneliness he had once experienced himself, being an outcast in his native village. Memories of childhood spent in isolation and contempt flooded back with renewed force.

Uzumaki clenched his fists, feeling his nails digging into his palms. How could it be that in this new, seemingly more advanced world, people still suffered from misunderstanding and hatred? The sanctuary visitor shook his head, trying to drive away bitter thoughts.

Through hidden ventilation openings came the muffled sounds of street life: the noise of passing cars, fragments of pedestrian conversations, distant dog barking. These mundane sounds now seemed like a mockery of those forced to hide here, underground.

Uchiha, standing at the opposite wall, noticed his friend's confusion. Dark eyes carefully followed his companion, capturing the slightest changes in his posture and facial expression. Sasuke frowned slightly, as if trying to read the thoughts of his sworn brother.

"Time to go." The mutant's voice drew Naruto from his contemplation.

He nodded, casting a final glance at the sanctuary's inhabitants. Each face, each gaze was imprinted in his memory, strengthening his determination to change something.

Emerging to the surface, the young ninja momentarily squinted against the bright daylight. The cool autumn wind ruffled his blond hair, bringing with it the smell of fallen leaves, stench, and urban bustle.

The shinobi stopped on the sidewalk, watching people passing by. Business suits mingled with casual clothing, pedestrians focused on their concerns. None of them even suspected that right under their feet hid those whom society had rejected.

The visitor from another world's gaze settled on a group of children cheerfully running toward the looming figure of a Sentinel several blocks away. The robot methodically turned its head, its red sensor-eyes scanning the street. The children excitedly reached toward its metal legs, not understanding the true purpose of this machine.

The young man felt bitterness rising in his throat. How to explain to these children that the being they so admired was created to persecute and destroy people just like themselves?

The jinchuriki took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. The bitter irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. Here, in this alien world, he encountered the same pain and injustice from which he once suffered himself. But now this reality seemed even more cruel because it affected not just him, but an entire group of people.

Suddenly, a thought he had been diligently pushing away all this time pierced his consciousness like a sharp needle: what if his native world had met the same fate? What if Konoha, his friends, everyone he knew and loved, were now... Uzumaki shook his head sharply, refusing to even entertain this thought. But the more he tried to drive it away, the more persistently it returned.

"Naruto." Uchiha's voice pulled him from his reflections. His dark-haired friend was already sitting in the car, his gaze impenetrable, but in the depths of his dark eyes, understanding could be read.

The girl with the white streak stood by the driver's door, her green eyes looking with concern at the visitor from another world.

Uzumaki took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. He cast a final glance at the street, at people hurrying about their business, at children playing at the feet of the Sentinel.

The young man approached the car and sat in the back seat. Rogue started the engine, and quiet music filled the interior. The melody seemed inappropriately calm after everything they had experienced.

These thoughts pursued the young shinobi as the car dissolved into the flow of New York traffic, carrying them away from the place where, behind the facade of an ordinary shop, lay a secret that most preferred not to know.