Three days had passed since the end of the war, and the Konoha army finally began its journey back home.
Unlike the campaign in the Land of Rain, which had occurred more than a decade after the First Great Ninja War and was hampered by inexperience, this time the troops moved efficiently. Everyone knew the routine: pack quickly, bring what was necessary, and prepare for the long march.
The most troublesome items were not personal belongings, but supplies for thousands of ninjas. And then there were the bodies of those Konoha shinobi who had fallen in battle.
Many were unrecognizable, mangled beyond repair, but as long as their attire bore the mark of Konoha, they were to be returned to the village and laid to rest beneath the Memorial Stone. These were the true heroes of the war. Beyond providing generous consolation funds to their families, Konoha could do little more.
As dusk settled, Hayashi sat alone in a supply cart. He tried to read the ninja scroll in his hands but found himself unable to concentrate. Resting his cheek on his hand, he gazed out the window at the desolate, war-torn fields. He imagined how this land might look under crops, fertile and full of life.
Even in its current devastation, the Land of Rivers at sunset felt strangely peaceful. Without the clash of kunai or the roar of explosions, the silence was almost comforting.
"Peace is truly good," he murmured.
"Da da da!"
Footsteps approached behind him. Hayashi did not turn; he could tell who it was just by the rhythm.
"…Hayashi, I brought you dinner," Himeji said, her voice hesitant.
Although she had been addressing him by name for some time, the familiarity still made her uncomfortable. That was why she typically referred to Minato and Tsunade as "Namikaze-kun" and "Senju-kun."
"Didn't we already eat?" Hayashi glanced at her.
She wore a purple, form-fitting ninja outfit instead of her jōnin vest, complemented by black tube socks. She looked… striking.
"…You probably didn't eat enough," Himeji said, forcing an excuse as she handed him the bowl.
Hayashi sighed but accepted it, leaning against the cart window as he began to eat. Himeji followed, sitting beside him.
"…Hayashi, what were you looking at just now?"
"Just the land. It feels… unfamiliar, somehow."
"Yes. Without the war, it does look different."
"Indeed. The fighting is over, and this place should finally have peace."
War always left a shadow. So many comrades had died here, and memories of them were hard to shake. Hayashi shifted the topic gently.
"Have your two older brothers returned to the village?"
Himeji's gaze dropped to the ground.
"Yes. The clan brought them back a few months ago. My father… his condition is worsening."
Hayashi nodded. He had seen Hyuga Tenkū unleash a powerful jutsu during the battle in the Land of Rain, but he had not anticipated the consequences would be so severe. Few knew the full truth, as it concerned the Byakugan and the clan head.
Hayashi patted her shoulder. The fact that she confided in him spoke volumes of her trust.
"It's alright. When we get back, let Tsunade-sensei take a look. She should have a solution."
Himeji nodded silently.
Hayashi asked another question.
"What are your plans after returning to the village? Rest for a while, or join a team for missions?"
Himeji shook her head, giving nothing away.
Hayashi exhaled. Socially withdrawn? Emotionless? It seemed both applied here.
"You're the captain; you decide. Or… do you want to stay on my team?"
"…Okay."
"Then it's settled. I'll inform the Third Hokage when we return."
Himeji smiled, a rare and genuine expression.
With that matter settled, Hayashi pushed the bowl aside. He wasn't hungry but had forced himself to eat a few bites. Standing, he handed the bowl back to Himeji and stepped outside for a walk, allowing digestion to ease his discomfort.
Night had fallen, and the troops camped in the open plain. The mood was markedly different from the previous days; returning to the village brought a sense of relief and joy.
Turning a corner, Hayashi noticed Jiraiya squatting beside a bush, his face flushed and his posture… awkward.
Minato called out cheerfully upon seeing him.
"…Hayashi, you're here!"
Hayashi waved and approached, observing the scene with mild amusement.
Minato was teaching Jiraiya a ninja technique, a rare reversal. Normally, Jiraiya was the teacher, but now, having returned, he was learning from his disciple. He felt the stares of everyone around, particularly Tsunade, and even a bit of embarrassment.
"You brat, what are you laughing at!" Jiraiya scowled at Hayashi.
"…Uncle, didn't you say you could learn it in a day? Three days have passed, and you haven't even completed the first step."
Hayashi couldn't help but laugh. Jiraiya had first seen Minato perform the Rasengan without hand seals and wanted to learn it desperately, shamelessly requesting guidance. Hayashi had agreed.
Yet now, three days later, progress was minimal. Jiraiya prayed to the Sage of Six Paths, vowing he would never again peek into women's baths or frequent red-light districts if he mastered the jutsu.
In his excitement, his trained golden hand slipped, bursting the water ball and splashing liquid all over his face.
He muttered, "Eat shit, you!"
The night air carried the faint echoes of laughter and frustration, the calm after the storm of war bringing a rare moment of levity.
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