Chapter 461: The Wind Is… Unusually Noisy Today
"Staying out overnight isn't really a big deal, is it?"
In one of Konoha's densely populated residential districts, Kenta stood at his doorstep, looking completely unfazed as he faced Kakashi and the others.
The Senju clan had regained much of its former prestige. After being forced into drastic change by Kei, the old hardliner within the clan had taken his own life, and with Kenta stepping up as the de facto leader, the Senju name was rising once again.
With the legacy of the First and Second Hokage behind them—and Kenta now serving as head of the Mission Department—their status was steadily climbing.
If Kei had dragged the Senju clan out of the mud, then Minato had given them the chance to stand again. And Kenta? He was the one who seized that opportunity and led them forward.
Of course, some resentment toward the Uchiha still lingered—especially among the older generation. But that hostility was fading.
Not gone—but suppressed.
Kei's influence was simply too overwhelming. His strength, his authority, and the transformation of the Uchiha clan itself had forced even their detractors to admit a harsh truth:
They were no longer rivals.
Kenta's earlier words now rang true—if the First Hokage could set aside hatred and build Konoha alongside the Uchiha, why couldn't they?
The younger generation had already made their choice.
They didn't inherit that hatred.
Instead, much of their resentment was directed toward the Third Hokage's era. As for the Uchiha? That was their elders' grudge—not theirs.
After all, their own leader, Kenta, was practically inseparable from Kei. Why shouldn't they try to build bridges too?
With the expansion of the Police Force and Kenta deliberately avoiding overloading the Mission Department with Senju members, many clan members chose to join the Police instead.
Even if the selection process was harsh, those who failed simply became standard mission shinobi.
It didn't matter.
Their future was already brighter.
And when Minato himself offered them the option to relocate, the entire clan chose to stay.
Not because the area was ideal—but because they saw what the Uchiha had done.
Opening their district. Integrating with the village.
Why fall behind?
With reforms sweeping through the academy, chunin, and even jonin ranks, everyone was moving toward a shared system—a unified platform.
In a way, it was the realization of the First and Second Hokage's vision.
So why leave?
Kenta glanced at the group again and sighed.
"And seriously, don't you see how many people are staring at you?" he said, spreading his hands. "You're blocking the street."
"Sorry, sorry," Kakashi and the others quickly apologized.
Still, they couldn't help but worry.
Was it really okay that those two weren't coming back?
Finally, Kakashi spoke.
"Well… we actually wanted to invite Kei and Ayaka out for dinner. To celebrate his birthday. Senpai, do you want to join us?"
"Oh? Kei's seventeen already?" Kenta tilted his head, then suddenly smirked. "Ah… no wonder he didn't object to going to that—"
"Cough—cough—COUGH!"
Kakashi immediately cut him off with a violent coughing fit.
He knew exactly where that sentence was heading—and he had no intention of letting it reach its destination.
The memories from that mission were bad enough already.
Kenta just grinned.
"Embarrassed, huh?"
Patting Kakashi's shoulder, he chuckled.
"I don't know where they went. But those two have been glued together for four years now. Spending a night out isn't exactly shocking. Come on—let it go. Let them enjoy some time alone."
The group exchanged glances.
Disappointed… but unable to argue.
Four years.
Somewhere along the way, it had become natural.
Rumors about their relationship had been circulating for at least a year or two now.
Even if certain thoughts made them flush with embarrassment, they were still shinobi—they could accept reality.
Reluctantly, the group dispersed.
Some had genuinely wanted to celebrate Kei's birthday.
But circumstances didn't allow it.
A few of the girls seemed particularly disappointed—but there was nothing to be done.
After all, Kei had always been distant.
And perhaps, in his eyes, only the one who had stood beside him through life and death truly mattered.
Kenta watched them leave, a faint smile on his face.
But the moment they disappeared—
The smile vanished.
"…Wait a second."
He rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing.
"Are those two really progressing that fast?"
A dangerous grin slowly spread across his face.
"Did Kei get influenced by Jiraiya or something? No… he did suggest going to a certain place before…"
He clicked his tongue.
"Cold on the outside, huh? Turns out he's burning hot underneath."
His imagination began running wild—picturing those two usually composed individuals thrown together in… less composed circumstances.
Then another thought struck him.
The grin froze.
"…Hold on. They're together."
"…And I'm alone?"
"…And I'm the oldest one here?! That's just wrong."
He took a step—then stopped.
His mind spun rapidly.
"Knowing them… they're probably doing research or something."
A pause.
"…Should I go check?"
He nodded to himself decisively.
"Yeah. I'll just bring a gift and take a look."
"…I'm just delivering a present. I won't get beaten up."
---
"You really have no filter at all!"
Under the golden glow of the setting sun, Kei lay lazily by a forest river on the outskirts of Konoha, while Ayaka stood nearby, clearly annoyed.
That one sentence he'd said earlier had been devastating.
She'd been completely caught off guard.
And to make matters worse—
Ryoko had walked in at that exact moment.
The result?
Utter chaos.
Even Kei hadn't anticipated that level of perfect misfortune.
They'd somehow endured the awkwardness through lunch, but the atmosphere had remained… strange.
By afternoon, Ryoko and Keisuke had practically pushed them out of the house, both wearing unmistakably knowing smiles.
Kei didn't mind.
But Ayaka?
She absolutely did.
As a man, Kei felt a flicker of embarrassment—but nothing that truly shook him.
Ayaka, on the other hand, was an entirely different story.
At that moment, she had genuinely wanted to tear him apart.
Fuming, she ignored him for almost the entire afternoon.
Fortunately, Kei knew how to handle situations like this.
Instead of arguing, he simply took her around—to places that mattered.
The small food stall where they had first discussed the possibility of cooperation.
The riverside where they had argued back and forth during her experimental crisis.
And, of course, the Konoha memorial—where they paid respects to the many shinobi who had died for them.
Only at the very end did they arrive here, at the forest near Konoha's outskirts, close to the main gate.
Kei lay on the grass, watching the sunset slowly dip below the horizon, the river murmuring softly beside him. A faint smile touched his lips.
Four or five years ago, his squad had been wiped out.
His chūnin leader and genin teammates—all gone.
Only he had survived.
And so he had been reassigned… to a new team.
Right here, by this very river, he had met Fukuhiko-san, Kenta, and Ayaka.
"Sorry," Kei said softly. "Maybe I went too far with that joke. But… thanks for staying with me."
He turned his head slightly. "Do you remember this place?"
"Of course," Ayaka sighed. "This is where I met a man with a fake smile plastered on his face—and an idiot who looked at everyone like they were already dead."
She paused, her gaze drifting across the water.
"It's been four or five years… and you still remember."
"Yeah," Kei sat up slowly. "Four or five years can change a lot."
Ayaka nodded.
"I still remember how we first formed the team. We just exchanged names and abilities—and were immediately sent out on a mission."
She shook her head.
"It was rushed. Or maybe… no one expected us to survive."
Kei said nothing.
Back then, they didn't talk about dreams.
They didn't have the right to.
They were tools—combat power.
All they needed was to state their abilities and figure out how to survive long enough to use them.
But now?
Everything had changed.
They held power.
They gave orders.
Others now lived the life they once endured.
"That was just the beginning," Kei said with a faint smile. "For me, the real turning point was that suicide mission."
"Covering Captain Minato while he destroyed Kannabi Bridge… that was when everything changed."
"That was your turning point," Ayaka corrected calmly. "That was when you broke free of your fate—your cage. You seized that chance."
Kei suddenly reached out and flicked her forehead protector lightly.
"And you didn't?" he said.
She didn't move.
"And I'd say it was ours," he continued. "Even if we nearly killed each other back then, blinded by distrust… we both took hold of our destinies."
Ayaka turned her head slightly, but this time, there was no anger.
Only quiet reflection.
The river flowed on, just as it always had.
But the people standing beside it… were no longer the same.
Back then, they had struggled desperately just to survive.
Now, they were powerful. Influential.
Their identities—and their hearts—had changed.
"The wind today… is rather noisy," Kei said suddenly, lifting his head as the breeze brushed past.
Ayaka tilted her head, her long hair swaying gently in the wind. A faint smile appeared on her lips.
"That's the third time you've said that," she murmured. "Didn't you claim to have refined literary taste? Then what comes next?"
Kei blinked, then shifted slightly closer.
Reaching out, he gently smoothed her hair, brushing aside the strands that the wind had scattered.
Her hair was soft. Straight.
After adjusting her bangs, he spoke quietly.
"Perhaps… the wind sounds as though it's quietly weeping?"
"How boring," Ayaka closed her eyes. "That's just the sound of leaves rustling."
She leaned lightly against his shoulder.
"And don't start with that 'the leaves fall because the wind calls, not because the tree refuses to keep them.' I'm not buying it."
Kei paused for a moment, slightly surprised by her closeness.
Then, after a brief hesitation, he wrapped an arm around her waist.
Closing his eyes, he let out a quiet breath.
"Fair enough. A woman with no literary taste… whose hands are just as stained with blood."
"And you?" Ayaka replied softly, without anger. "You act like some cultured scholar—but I doubt I've even spilled half the blood you have."
"That's just the wind," Kei said with a faint sigh. "Blowing misfortune into the village. I didn't have a choice."
"No one ever does," she murmured. "So just… enjoy the wind while it lasts."
"…Then should we go back?" he asked quietly. "Before it stops?"
"No," Ayaka replied without hesitation. "Some things… aren't meant to happen."
"…Alright."
The wind continued to blow.
And neither of them moved.