That night, Kaen didn't train.
For once.
He simply sat on the rooftop, watching the quiet glow of Konoha under the late sky.
Years ago, caution had defined every move he made:
Watching clan reactions.
Avoiding village suspicion.
Hiding strength constantly.
But things had changed.
Observation Haki now let him sense intent easily.
Armament Haki reinforced his body instinctively.
Mangekyō abilities, massive chakra reserves, Conqueror's Haki — all layered beneath calm restraint.
By most standards…
He was already operating at a level many shinobi spent lifetimes chasing.
A strange realization settled over him:
He didn't have to live like a hunted child anymore.
If someone carried ill intent…
He would know.
And if conflict came…
He could handle it.
That awareness brought something unfamiliar.
Ease.
Not arrogance.
Just breathing space.
His thoughts drifted further.
Other villages.
Other systems.
Other possibilities.
Kumogakure — the Land of Lightning — came to mind again.
Reputation-wise, they valued strength directly. Less layered politics, more straightforward hierarchy. Not perfect… but simpler.
And simplicity had appeal.
Konoha still carried undercurrents:
Uchiha suspicion.
Clan-village distance.
Danzo's watchful ambition.
War shaping decisions.
Leaving wasn't imminent.
But the idea existed.
A future option.
His mind wandered briefly to memories from his previous life — anime scenes, characters, impressions.
Some amusing.
Some embarrassing.
Mostly distant now.
That person felt like someone else entirely.
This life was real.
Responsibilities real.
Hitomi real.
Thinking of her grounded him instantly.
She had stayed beside him through everything:
Hunger.
Isolation.
Training.
War uncertainty.
Strength wasn't just about power.
It was also about who you protected.
And Kaen knew clearly:
Any future decision — whether staying in Konoha or leaving someday — would include her.
Always.
Observation Haki extended gently across the sleeping village.
No immediate threats.
Just quiet preparation for the coming war.
For once, Kaen allowed himself to relax fully.
Not dropping caution.
Just not carrying it as a constant weight.
Freedom, he realized, wasn't total safety.
It was having enough strength that fear no longer dictated every decision.
And slowly…
He was reaching that point.
Hitomi eventually joined him, sitting close without speaking.
The silence felt comfortable.
Stable.
Earned.
Whatever future awaited — war, politics, shifting alliances —
Kaen no longer felt trapped by it.
He would move through it on his own terms.
Quietly.
Deliberately.
Free… as much as a shinobi ever could be.