(PROFESSOR UZUMAKI) HALLE

Halle had not thought much about labels before all of this.

They were things other people used, distant and exaggerated words that got tossed around on the news or argued about online. Now the word followed her everywhere, slipping into conversations she had not started and staying despite all attempts to shoo it away or ignore it.

Hero.

Her mum said it the most.

It showed in how she hovered a little longer than usual, and how her eyes lingered when Halle walked into a room. There was obvious pride there, but there was something else mixed in with it, something harder that Halle could not quite place.

Her big brother handled it differently. He did not say the word as often, but it came out in other ways, in the way he asked more questions than he used to, and in the way he listened to the answers a little too carefully. Her little brother had no such restraint. To him, it was the coolest thing that had ever happened, and he made sure everyone knew it.

The PRT had their own version of it.

They called her promising, said she had potential, and that what she had done at the bank showed good instincts and judgment. The conversations were polite, professional, and always framed as an opportunity rather than pressure, but the direction they were pushing her in was obvious.

Join the Wards.

They had explained the structure, the training, and the support system. They talked about safety, guidance, and being part of something bigger than herself. There were mentions of funding, of stipends, of future prospects that stretched far beyond Brockton Bay.

It all sounded very reasonable, which made it harder to push back against.

“It would be good for you.”

Her mum said that one over dinner, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Don’t you want to interact with kids your age?”

Halle had almost laughed at that.

She did interact with kids her age. Every afternoon, sometimes longer, depending on how training went. She trained with them, talked with them, and learned alongside them. 

She said as much.

And as always, Naruto’s name came up without her thinking about it. The reaction came just as quickly. Her big brother’s expression fell, and her mum’s lips became pursed, both exchanging weary glances. The conversation moved on before she could read further into it, redirected toward something safer, something easier to agree on.

The first time, she had let it go. The second time, she tried again, more directly. By the third, she had started paying attention.

They did not like him. Why was less clear.

Whenever she asked, the answers came out half-formed, like they had been decided on without being fully thought through. Something about it being inappropriate for a grown man to spend so much time around teenagers. About not knowing where he came from or what he really wanted, and how that was suspicious.

A part of her understood the concern, but it didn't hold up against what she knew. 

Naruto was… Naruto. He was loud, sometimes ridiculous, and completely serious when it mattered. He pushed them hard, but he also paid attention in a way most adults didn’t bother with. He knew when someone was struggling even if they tried to hide it, and he never let things slide just because it was easier that way.

Halle trusted him.

Saying that out loud did not help. Instead, it only shortened the conversations, made the glances linger too long, the questions a little sharper than intended, and left a tense silence that was hard to ignore. 

Halle found herself choosing her words more carefully around them. She talked less about training. Avoided details that might lead back to him. And let conversations drift when they started heading in that direction, even when she wanted to push back and ask why they would not just say what they meant.

She did not like it.

She loved her family. That had never been in question. They had been there through everything, a constant source of happiness in an unfair world. The idea of that changing, even a little, sat wrong with her in a way she could not ignore.

Which was how she ended up sitting at the kitchen table one evening, listening to her mum talk about the Wards again while her big brother nodded along. They kept it light, careful not to sound like they were pushing too hard, but the expectation was there, sitting just beneath the surface.

“It would give you structure,” her big brother said.

“And support,” her mum added quickly. “People who know what they’re doing.”

Halle looked down at her hands for a moment, then back up at them.

She thought about training, about the other students, and about the way things had started to feel more real and dangerous than before. She thought about the tension in the house, about the conversations that never quite went anywhere, and about the way their smiles had started to look more strained whenever Naruto’s name came up.

“Okay,” she said.

They both paused.

“I’ll do it,” she added, before she could second-guess herself.

Her mum’s face lit up in a way Halle had not seen in days, relief cutting through the tension that had been building. Her big brother let out a breath that sounded like he had been holding it in for longer than he wanted to admit.

They moved quickly after that, into plans and the practical details that came with the decision. Her little brother nearly knocked his chair over in his excitement, peppering her with questions she did not bother answering properly. Somewhere along the line, someone suggested celebrating, and the idea caught on before she could really think about it.

By the time the evening settled, the house felt lighter. The tension had eased, replaced by something warmer, easier to be around. Her mum laughed more, and her big brother looked less preoccupied. Even the conversations flowed without that careful edge they had picked up over the past few days.

Halle sat with them, smiled when it felt expected, and let herself be pulled along with it.