"Evidently, this notorious Wave caused quite a panic. During a panic, someone always dies, and then you're very surprised to meet them in a cafe a million kilometers from the death site."
© Strugatsky Brothers
"Hey, can you hear me?"
Someone shook her shoulder. Sarada opened her eyes. Through dirty glasses in the dark loomed a green Leaf shinobi vest.
"Are you hurt?"
Her whole body ached. She sat up.
"No, I'm fine."
"Can you make it to the hospital yourself?"
"Yes."
The shinobi nodded and vanished.
Sarada licked dry lips. Thirsty. She sat a bit, listening to surroundings. Unusually quiet. Siren silent, Military Police loudspeaker too. She rose and slowly trudged down the ruined street.
Sky over Konoha lightened imperceptibly. Shinobi cleared rubble, searched survivors, ran past with stretchers. Fires smoldered here and there.
Sarada had no intention of going to medics; she wasn't injured. Rubbing chilled shoulders, she just wandered. Where to go? No one awaited her here; she was a stranger. And unexpectedly, Sarada realized she was glad. Probably no Leaf family unscathed by the Kyuubi attack. Sarada had no one to lose here, no friends or kin. Only little father. And she prayed from her heart that uncle protected his baby brother and dad survived.
"Hey, you!"
The lost Uchiha looked around bewildered.
"Yes, you," the stern voice continued.
A shinobi addressed her.
"You're a genin. Why wander here idle?"
"I..." Sarada touched her forehead protector.
Right, she wore a Leaf shinobi headband. This ninja thought her a genin from his time. Could anyone think otherwise?
"Search for wounded and lead to hospital!" the shinobi barked.
"Yes," her rough tongue stumbled.
Fear dried her mouth worse. Sarada hurried onto another street, thinking only: where to find water? The man was right. She must help. On one hand, the past managed without her, and saving a life might derail history badly. But on the other, her presence already changed much, so she needed to learn living in the past without obsessing over future impacts each time. Otherwise, she'd go mad. And conscience wouldn't let her stand by while people suffered.
"As future Hokage, I must care for my village now," Sarada resolved firmly.
"Do you hear me?" a shinobi exclaimed on the next street and pressed his ear to the outer wall of a half-ruined house. "Anyone else in there?"
A muffled reply came.
"Damn," the guy muttered under his breath.
Sarada ran closer.
"Can I help?"
"Oh, girl."
The vest shinobi scratched his head, eyeing her doubtfully.
"Doubt it. Unless you know Doton."
"No, I don't," Sarada replied grimly. "People in there?"
"Yes. One badly hurt, from the sound."
"Need help?" a new voice sounded.
A dark-haired boy slightly younger than Sarada appeared from somewhere. Also a genin.
"Bit early for him to be genin," Sarada thought jealously.
In the future, graduating academy before twelve, genius or not, was impossible.
The boy jumped from the roof to the road. On his dark sweater back flashed a familiar crest. Uchiha.
"You know Doton?" the vest shinobi asked.
"Unfortunately no. Rubble?" the boy asked businesslike.
"As you see. Alright, they won't last long. Gotta decide. Got explosive seals? Mine ran out."
"Yes," Sarada said.
"No, wait, that won't do," the Uchiha pressed his ear to the building facade and knocked the wall with his fist. "We'll just harm more."
He stepped back from the house, tilted his head inspecting it. Glanced at his palm. Clenched and unclenched fist several times.
"I could try smashing it. But might lack strength. Not my specialty."
"Shisui-kun, you really wanna try smashing it?" the vest shinobi asked skeptically.
"Better than exploding. Step back."
Words escaped on their own:
"Wait!"
The boy, ignoring her till now, looked back surprised. Sarada pulled on her glove, adjusted glasses, and shoved him from the facade.
"I'll do it."
Uchiha Shisui didn't object. Just shouted:
"You inside. Move farther back if you can."
Sarada stepped back, clenched fist, and charged the wall.
"Shannaro!"
The strike webbed the building in cracks; the outer wall collapsed with a roar. Sarada jumped aside to avoid facade debris.
Shisui whistled and cheerily exclaimed:
"Not bad!"
They rushed to clear rubble. Fingers and knees scraped bloody, but stone by stone the path to people opened. Amid ruins appeared a hole; civilians' voices grew louder, clearer.
"They did it!"
"We're here..." a weak moan. "Help..."
The vest shinobi lowered legs into the hole and jumped down. Shisui used the pause to drink from his canteen. Sarada licked dry lips. The boy screwed the cap but noticed her greedy stare and hesitantly asked:
"You... want some?"
"Yes!"
He let her drink. How good cool water tasted!
"I saw the crest on your dress," Shisui said meanwhile. "So you're Uchiha too. Strange we haven't met. Thought I knew all our clan's genin."
Sarada choked.
"Thanks," she exhaled, wiping her mouth with her palm back and returning the canteen.
"No problem," Shisui shrugged and stowed it in his pouch. "What's up, taicho?"
"Two. One can walk," came the muffled voice from the hole.
"Then I'm off."
He vaulted the rubble and vanished on the next street. Gone like wind. What speed. While she aimlessly wandered seeking where to help, Uchiha Shisui zipped around at light speed.
"Like a mad rabbit," Sarada thought irritably.
Local kids' abilities and agility depressed her. And yet she felt slight sadness that the boy left. Seemed she was building some ties with past people. But no. Just seemed.
"Girl, you still there?" the muffled voice asked.
Sarada peered into the hole.
"Yes."
"Catch."
The captain hoisted a child on his shoulders; a head emerged: tired face, split forehead with crusted blood trail. Sarada grabbed the child under armpits and pulled out.
"He's fine. Just scared," the shinobi reported and jumped out with a woman in arms. "Mom's worse though."
He descended ruins, balancing on shifting foot debris.
"I'll take her. All clear here. Kid, follow me."
The child on shaky legs hurried after the shinobi.
Sarada stood alone on the empty street.
Rescue operations continued all day. A cool autumn sun had already risen over Konoha, and the destruction in the village looked less mysterious but far more horrifying. There weren't enough people for the rescue work. Men emerged from the shelter and joined the searches and evacuation of the wounded. Women helped as best they could in the hospital and field kitchens or stayed in the shelter with the children. There was no need for them to go outside right now. Many residents' homes were destroyed, and the streets in the central districts had been torn up completely. People had nowhere to return to, so tents were set up in the squares. A wide trench stretched across the entire village to the Hokage Monument—the trace of the Tailed Beast Bomb that the Fourth Hokage had so masterfully redirected beyond Konoha.
The hospital, which had miraculously withstood the Nine-Tails' attack, was overflowing. Sarada had already brought a dozen people to the medics and hurried away each time. It was terrifying to look at. People lay right on the floor in the lobby. Many were missing body parts; some had broken spines. The smell of blood and medicine, bloodied bandages...
"Mommy, how could you work here?" Sarada thought.
And yet, her mom had worked as a medic not only in peacetime but also during the Fourth Shinobi World War, and she hadn't been much older than Sarada herself. It was one thing to fight an enemy who wanted to kill you. It was quite another to witness the suffering of innocent people—and in such massive numbers.
By eleven in the morning, Sarada felt like her strength had finally run out and she couldn't take another step. But every time she left the hospital, she set off again to search for the wounded—simply because her conscience wouldn't allow otherwise.
Her fingers, hands, elbows, and knees were scraped raw. Her dress was filthy, her muscles ached. On top of that, Sarada was starving, but she didn't know whom to approach for food. The hospital staff was busy with the wounded; the shinobi leaping through the village were clearing rubble. Only around noon did Sarada accidentally notice that a field kitchen had been set up in the village center, and she joined the long line, first removing and hiding her forehead protector so the higher-ranking shinobi wouldn't hassle her: "Hey, genin girl. Why are you slacking off?" Sarada wasn't slacking. She knew her limits, and right now, they had long been exceeded.
She hadn't run into Uchiha Shisui again. Sarada reluctantly admitted to herself that she liked him. Probably because of what had initially sparked her envy: there was something of the Nanadaime Hokage in him. A shinobi capable of making a balanced decision, protecting, saving. A person ready to shoulder responsibility for others. Even if he looked like just a kid.
It was a shame you had to die, Uchiha Shisui. Like all the other members of your... no, our clan.
But one fact worried Sarada. Shisui now knew she was an Uchiha. And her uncle, young as he was, knew too. The Uchiha people were surely familiar with each other, and the appearance of a new genin girl among them couldn't go unnoticed. It looked highly suspicious. What saved Sarada from extra questions was only the chaos of the disaster's aftermath—everyone was too busy figuring out where to put her to work. No one was looking into why Konoha suddenly had one more girl from the Uchiha clan. Not yet.
Sarada gratefully accepted a bowl of rice and stepped aside. She needed to figure something out. She needed to think about her cover story right now, so she could answer who she was and where she came from when the questions started. If her uncle and that boy, Uchiha Shisui, hadn't known about her, everything would have been much simpler. Just an orphaned girl who lost her parents during the Kyuubi attack. But they knew. And they would surely remember her. If not her uncle, then Shisui.
Two shinobi were smoking and talking nearby.
"Yeah, he tore everything up, damn him. Every family has dead or wounded. Only the Uchiha District stayed intact."
The man spat and took a drag, holding the cigarette with trembling fingers.
"Damn, he appeared out of nowhere right in the middle of the village."
"Exactly. Doesn't that seem strange to you too? And you know, the Uchiha Sharingan can control the Kyuubi."
Sarada started listening closely. The other shinobi chuckled nervously.
"Come on. That would be Uchiha Madara. But from the current ones?"
"Evil Eye Fugaku, the clan leader. I think he's capable of it. In strength, he doesn't yield to Minato," the man flicked his cigarette away and quietly added: "Dust to dust... Great man."
"You think the Military Police chief sicced the demon fox on the Leaf? But why?"
"What nonsense," Sarada thought.
"Jealousy? After all, they chose Minato as Fourth, not him."
"Come on..."
"Think about it. How else could the Uchiha District and their whole clan survive that hell?"
Her heart beat happily.
"All the Uchiha survived. That means Dad's alive."
"Quiet. Someone's listening."
The shinobi noticed Sarada's attention and patted his comrade on the shoulder, nodding at her. The other turned and said:
"Hey, girl. Move along. Go on."
Sarada walked farther away, finished the tasteless rice, returned the bowl to the women, and tied her forehead protector back on. More searches for the wounded awaited her, though her exhausted body literally groaned: "Just a little more, Sarada, and they'll be carrying you to the hospital." But then she noticed something, and thoughts of fatigue evaporated.
A wave was approaching Konoha from behind the trees.
"What the hell is that?" Sarada thought in alarm. "Another attack? But history doesn't mention this!"
With great difficulty, she climbed onto the roof of a surviving building and looked down at the strange phenomenon from above.
The wave was approaching. The question of "where did the tsunami come from on the mainland" was immediately answered because Sarada quickly realized: it wasn't water. The wave blotted out the entire horizon up to the clouds, was semi-transparent, and heavily distorted the forest left behind it. Some kind of energy attack. Sarada activated her Sharingan. Nothing. The clear world, the same wave that stood out in no way. The Sharingan deactivated. She got nervous.
This was all she needed. But why no panic? Why wasn't anyone reacting? Damn.
She somehow climbed down from the roof back to the square and addressed the first person she saw.
"Hey, look."
"What?" the man didn't understand.
Sarada stared at him in bewilderment.
"Right there, the wave. You don't see it?"
The man grimaced.
"Girl, what are you on about? What wave? We're in the middle of the continent."
"He doesn't see it," Sarada realized. "Damn."
The wave was already approaching the village borders and swallowed the fortress wall. And worst of all, the Yondaime Hokage was already dead.
Could the Third stop this technique? Or did he not notice it either? Was no one noticing it except her?
"And you still don't see it?!" Sarada exclaimed in panic.
The man looked at her with bewilderment and a bit of pity. He probably thought the stress from the Kyuubi attack had driven her mad.
The wave rushed forward relentlessly, swallowing district after district and leaving them behind as blurry, quivering colors. Sarada felt like the air should hit her face, but the trees stood still. The leaves didn't stir.
The wave burst into the square, and people vanished into it one by one, turning into a distorted palette of colors behind. Sarada backed away, watching in horror as the semi-transparent wall of trembling air inexorably advanced on her. She thrust out her hand as if that could save her.
The wave touched her splayed fingers. Her skin tingled. Her hand went numb to the wrist, then to the elbow. To the shoulder. And the next moment, the wave engulfed Sarada completely.
The man turned around, but the strange panicking girl was no longer beside him. He spat juicily onto the road and grumbled:
"Look at that, gone with the wind. Damn shinobi. Always with their tricks."
Donna opened her eyes. Scattered books and pencils of varying lengths lay before her as before. She pressed her palms to the hot cup and frowned. On the ceramic under the willow branches, Japanese girls in colorful clothes were frozen. They all gazed downward, beyond the picture, as if something amazingly interesting was happening there. Her fingers nervously stroked the rough protrusions left from the broken handle.
What was happening in the universe of the separated world clone defied any description. Nothing like this had ever happened anywhere before.
She took a sip of hot tea.
No, actually, no being from the future had ever been thrown into the past before, so Donna was prepared for anything in advance. And the world's reaction didn't keep her waiting: a temporal wave appeared. The world was desperately trying to restore itself.
"But why didn't it happen right away?" the deity pondered. "Why was the defensive reaction delayed?"
There was no answer to that question yet, but Donna had some ideas.
Too much pain. Too many deaths. The Kyuubi tragedy had been a shock to that point in the universe where Uchiha Sarada was. And the presence of a being from another time went unnoticed amid that shock. But not for long. The reaction came, albeit belatedly. A temporal fluctuation arose: the wave.
"Damn, I didn't expect this outcome," Donna thought discontentedly.
The discovery of the fluctuation wave was a monumental event, but Donna was more interested in the divergence.
"Please tell me it didn't erase you from the universe. Where are you, Sarada?"
The deity closed her eyelids and turned her inner gaze to her experimental world, hoping to find the Uchiha clan heiress in it.
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: Granulan