Instructions * After the Battle

As the Isshiki disappeared, the wedges on everyone's bodies shattered.

Ai looked down at the black lines peeling off the back of her hand.

They curled up and shattered like pieces of paper burned by fire, then turned into fine black powder that fell off the skin and was scattered by the wind.

The wedge-shaped markings left faint red streaks where they had been, but the feeling of having one's soul torn apart had vanished.

He tried clenching his fist, and his fingers could move.

He pushed himself up and sat up, looking around.

The Ninjas who, like him, were pinned to the ground by Black Rods, also had their cuneiform markings shatter at the same time.

A sense of confusion spread silently among the Ruins.

No one cheered, no one stood up and shouted "We won!"

The groans of the wounded continued, Katsuyu continued to crawl slimily across the wounds of one person after another.

A Senju Clan Ninja a pierced shoulder looked down at the fading wedge mark on the back of his hand, then looked up at the center of the crater, his mouth agape in confusion. "Is... this the end?"

No one could answer him.

The forest created by "Izuna" is gradually disappearing.

The thick tree trunks that had burst from the ground slowly receded back into the soil, as if time were flowing backward, retracting every branch and every leaf.

The pit in the center, which had been trapped by Wood Release, was once again exposed to the afternoon sun.

Two people were standing in the pit. One of them was "Izuna," who was standing on a relatively intact rock at the edge of the pit.

The Gunbai in his hand was glowing.

The blue-white light began to converge from the edge of the fan, the outer flames extinguished, the fan ribs retracted, and the entire weapon shrank and deformed in the light, finally reforming into the Black Peach Wood Crow Netsuke, lying quietly in his palm.

As he tied the Netsuke around his waist, he muttered to himself, "Hiss... I think I misread it just now... I should have pointed out the Form Truth first... Speaking of which, the content I read wasn't quite right either..."

Standing in the center of the pit is a monster that has reverted to human form.

Jigen's body fell onto the pile of rubble, no longer bearing the wedge pattern, no longer emitting the eerie white light that emanated from the crack.

His eyes were closed on his pale face, and his chest remained still.

The Isshiki is no longer in that body.

After reattaching the Netsuke to his waist, Izuna dusted off his hands, glanced at the spot where the Isshiki had vanished, and said casually, "But going through the motions with a corpse... oh well, whatever, it's all taken care of anyway."

Madara and Hashirama arrived immediately.

Tobirama teleported directly to Jigen's side, his finger already on Kunai the moment he landed.

Before they could speak, "Izuna" raised her hand to stop them from asking questions.

"I don't have much time, so just shut up and listen to me."

"This guy is Jigen, the unlucky fellow who was just possessed by that Ōtsutsuki Isshiki."

"The monk from a thousand years ago wasn't a bad person. Take him back, and be polite when you question him."

"He suffered a lot... Anyway, if you talk to him nicely, he'll be willing to tell you some things." He paused, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh right, Black Zetsu escaped. After this battle, he probably won't show himself again."

"No need to bother looking, Izuna knows what to do."

His gaze shifted to Tobirama.

Tobirama was half-squatting, his hand still resting above Jigen's pulse. When he saw Izuna looking at him, he tensed up completely.

"Tobirama, after I leave, Izuna's left eye will be completely unusable. That eye wasn't originally his; it's a miracle it's lasted this long. You'll need to take good care of his new eye."

As he spoke, his tone softened. "Please."

Tobirama's brow furrowed even more. "Who exactly are you...?"

"And one more thing," Golden Eyes didn't give him a chance to finish his question, "This child will probably forget that last part. When he wakes up, just say he killed him himself, don't mention me. It'll prevent him from overthinking."

Hashirama finally couldn't hold back any longer. He took a step forward. "Who exactly are you?"

Izuna turned to look at Hashirama. His golden eyes dimmed for a moment in the afternoon sunlight.

The smile flickered across his lips, but vanished before it even reached his eyes.

"You've remembered everything I said, haven't you?"

The next moment, the gold color slowly faded from the iris, and the eyes returned to their deep black hue.

Then his knees bent, and he fell forward like a puppet whose axis had been removed.

Ban stepped forward and caught him.

Izuna rested her head on his shoulder, the calm that wasn't his own completely fading from his face, revealing a quiet weariness.

The unusual phenomena around us are slowly disappearing.

The Rainbow-colored, created by the Gunbai, began to fade from the edge of the sky, like the tide receding from the beach, gradually returning to the original azure.

The air was no longer viscous, and the wind began to flow again, filling everyone's nostrils with the smell of blood and burnt wood.

It was as if the scene that had just torn reality apart was merely a collective illusion.

But the people on Earth knew it wasn't an illusion.

Because some people discovered they were still alive.

A Hyuga Clan Ninja, whose left chest was pierced by a Black Rods, suddenly opened his eyes.

His heart must have stopped beating minutes ago, his pupils must have been dilated, but now he stares blankly at the sky, his lips moving, uttering a hoarse syllable. "... How did I...?"

His wife was kneeling beside him, her hands pressed against his chest. The green light of the Mystical Palm Technique had long since died out, for she had confirmed her husband's death half a minute earlier.

Hearing the sound, she looked down and saw her husband staring at her with half-open eyes, looking confused. Startled, she fell backward to the ground, letting out a sound that was somewhere between a scream and a cry.

Then she quickly crawled over and used all her strength to unleash her Mystical Palm Technique.

He wasn't the only one.

Amidst the Ruins, on the rubble, beside the wounded covered in Katsuyu, one by one, the Ninjas who had been so badly injured that they had stopped breathing regained consciousness.

They opened their eyes, their lips moved, and some even tried to raise their hands, as if to confirm that they were really still alive.

But they had no pulse, no breath, and their chests didn't rise and fall.

A medical-nin placed his hand on the carotid artery of a "revived" wounded soldier, pressing for a full five seconds before turning to his comrade, his face as white as a sheet. "No heartbeat..."

His companion was also pale and ashen, but his hand was already glowing green. "Forget about it! Save them first!!"

The medical-nin felt a chill run down their spines, yet were also relieved to the point of numbness in their hands and feet.

They didn't have time to think about the underlying principles, nor did they care about being afraid. They just gritted their teeth and frantically resumed the treatment.

The green light of the Mystical Palm Technique flickered across the Ruins, and the Katsuyu was split into smaller individuals, burrowing into every conscious person and forcibly maintaining the life force that, for some reason, had not been extinguished, with its Chakra.

As long as consciousness remains, there is still a chance.

They desperately tried to stop the bleeding, stitch up the wounds, and infuse Chakra, pulling back those who should have crossed the Sanzu River just minutes before.

But some people simply couldn't be saved.

Its heart was completely shredded by the Black Rods, half of its skull was crushed by the cube, and its internal organs were shattered to the point that even Katsuyu couldn't touch them.

These people opened their eyes in a brief moment of lucidity, their lips moved a few times as if they wanted to say something, or perhaps they just moved unconsciously, and then their eyes closed again, the last glimmer of light fading from their pupils.

Some of them had no one they knew and could only lie alone on the blood-soaked gravel.

Some of their companions were right beside them, kneeling and holding their hands, listening to their last words, then watching their eyes lose all light.

Ōnoki staggered down from the pile of rubble, clutching a Katsuyu in his arms.

That Katsuyu was a size larger than the smaller individuals that had split off around it; he had obtained it from a wounded soldier at the edge of the Ruins who wasn't seriously injured.

He ran to Kudan Moku's side, knelt in the pool of blood, and gently placed the Katsuyu on the hole in his uncle's chest where the Black Rods had pierced through.

"Quickly, heal him quickly." Ōnoki's voice trembled. "You can heal him, right? You just healed so many people, even that guy with a hole through his left chest, my uncle can too..."

The Katsuyu did not speak.

Its tentacles gently probed the wound on the chest of the Kudan Moku, its soft body twitching slightly, secreting mucus that coated the torn muscle fibers.

It tried for a few seconds, then stopped.

The Katsuyu turned its head and silently shook its head.

"What do you mean?" Ōnoki's eyes widened. "What do you mean by shaking your head?"

"I'm so sorry." The Katsuyu's voice was soft, gentle, and calm. "His heart was completely pierced. The heart is the most difficult organ to repair. Even in Shikkotsu Forest, only with the user's Medical Ninjutsu combined with Lord Hashirama Chakra's chakra could there be a very low chance of regeneration. But that level of regeneration takes time. His consciousness won't last that long."

"You're talking nonsense!" Ōnoki suddenly stood up, his voice shrill and cracking. "You just healed so many people! That guy over there had his intestines spilling out and he still came back to life! Why didn't you save my uncle!"

"But this young gentleman..."

"Is it because we are from the Land of Earth?! Is it because we are Ninjas from another country?!"

He reached out to grab the Katsuyu, but his hand was caught in mid-air by another hand.

The hand was large and rough, with calluses all over the palm. It wasn't strong, but it made Ōnoki freeze in place.

The Kudan Moku had its eyes open.

His pupils were not yet fully dilated, and blood was still seeping from the hole in his chest. Katsuyu mucus covered the edges of the wound, slowing the bleeding, but it couldn't stop what had already happened.

His lips moved a few times, emitting a hoarse, almost inaudible sound, "... Don't make things difficult for them."

Ōnoki froze. Then he knelt back down with a thud, grabbing Kudan Moku's hands with such force it felt like he wanted to crush his bones. "Uncle, Uncle, you're awake! Wait a minute, go find Lord Hashirama! His words will definitely help..."

"Ōnoki," Kudan Moku interrupted him.

He looked at Ōnoki, smiled slightly, and as his lips twitched, a trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth.

He spoke, his voice soft and hesitant, sounding calm. "I know... you resent my actions. You feel I shouldn't have... given my life for Konoha."

He gasped for breath, tiny blood bubbles rising from the hole in his chest with each breath. "That's true. I am, after all, Ninja from the Land of Earth. To risk my life like this... I won't gain any benefit. No one will remember, no one will praise me. Perhaps when I go back, some will call me a traitor, a disloyal traitor, willing to risk my life for a country that might become an enemy in the future."

Ōnoki bit his lip and remained silent.

He couldn't speak, because he truly harbored resentment.

Why did Uncle Yuan rush forward? Why couldn't Uncle Yuan stay behind like him? Why did Uncle Yuan have to die for someone else's village?

"But no." Kudan Moku's hand was still resting on Ōnoki's, his fingers slightly curled. "I just... saw an ideal that made it worthwhile for me to do this."

Ōnoki looked up, his eyes bloodshot and misty. "What ideal could be more important than life itself?"

Kudan Moku looked at him, his gaze slowly drifting into the distance.

"You're too young and too powerful, you probably don't know what I'm talking about. We Ninjas... we're in war from birth, trading our lives for money, for territory, for the continuation of our clans."

"If you don't fight, you'll die; if you don't fight, you won't eat. This was the rule Warring States Period, and all Ninjas considered it a matter of course."

"I've lived most of my life in my tribe and seen too many people die on the battlefield."

"There are those older than me, those of my generation, and children younger than you. Kunai properly before they are pushed to the battlefield. When they die, there is no one to collect their bodies. They are dragged away by wild dogs and soaked in the rain."

"I always thought this was the fate of Ninjas, something no one could change. Until I came to Konoha."

His eyes refocused and landed on Ōnoki's face.

Suddenly, a glimmer of light appeared in those eyes that were slowly losing their luster, like a candle flame about to go out in the wind having its wick gently stirred.

"You heard everything Hashirama Senju said..."

He said Ninjas don't have to kill each other, he said we can protect our families and have days when we don't have to risk our lives.

He said we can stand under the same sky, share the same joys, and bear the same sorrows.

"Ōnoki, do you know what I was thinking when I heard those words?"

Ōnoki looked at the person in front of him, a certain intuition told him that Kudan Moku was about to leave.

He could do nothing but shed tears.

"I'm realizing that all the suffering I've endured and all the people I've lost in my life weren't a given. It turns out we don't have to live like that."

Kudan Moku's voice grew softer and softer, but his smile grew wider and wider. The smile aggravated the wound in his chest, causing him to wince in pain, but he continued to smile anyway.

"I've fought for decades in my life, and I've never thought about why I'm fighting. After one battle, there's another; after killing one enemy, there's another. It's never-ending."

"But Konoha told me that we can live like Ordinary People, following the rules, simply living."

"Our strength here is no longer a sword that others avoid, but a reaping sickle, a hammer that drives nails, a tool that makes life easier—a tool... not a weapon..."

"How extravagant... Such a luxurious life, and I actually... I actually got to see it in my lifetime... I can die without regrets."

Through teary eyes, Ōnoki looked at Kudan Moku's longing expression, and slowly, he understood something; his expression changed.

"Ōnoki, I didn't die for Konoha. I died for the world he spoke of."

"A world where Ninjas can farm, run shops, and teach children like Ordinary People. A world where kids your age no longer have to go to the battlefield with Kunai."

"If that world needs a Ninja from the Land of Earth to rush forward and take this hit," Kudan Moku gritted his teeth, "Then I'll take it! It's not that I want to take a hit for the people of Konoha, it's that that world deserves it!"

He coughed, and blood spilled from the corner of his mouth, flowing down his chin and neck. Ōnoki frantically tried to wipe it away, but Kudan Moku pressed his hand down.

"You're still young, you might not understand now. But one day you will." His voice was so soft it was like a whisper in your ear. "When you become the Tsuchikage... I know you can do it. Just do what he did in Konoha."

"Let the children of Iwagakure go to school, let Ninjutsu be used to Road Construction and bridges, and let your men no longer lose their lives on the battlefield. Do you understand, Ōnoki? For this, you must live, live longer than anyone else... Promise me, Ōnoki, promise me you'll live."

Ōnoki knelt beside Kudan Moku, tears falling to the ground one by one. He heard his own voice squeezed out of his throat, hoarse as if sandpaper was being rubbed.

"I promise you... I promise you... I will live... I will become the Tsuchikage... So..."

Kudan Moku smiled when it heard his words.

A silent smile bloomed on that dirty, weathered face, which resembled that of a farmer.

It's like the expression of someone sitting on the edge of a field, lighting a pipe, after harvesting the last row of wheat in autumn.

Then, he slowly exhaled his last breath.

The light in those eyes that were looking at Ōnoki slowly, little by little, dimmed.

Ōnoki kept his head down, still holding Kudan Moku's hand.

He didn't burst into tears, nor did he lash out at the Katsuyu like he had before.

He just kept wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

The anger towards the monster Isshiki, the anger towards the Katsuyu for refusing to save his uncle, and even the anger towards himself for being unable to do anything, were all dissipated in Kudan Moku's final smile.

All that remains is profound sorrow.

The sound of gravel being trampled came from behind.

The female Rock Ninja, Tōho, was rescued.

Her left arm had been treated by Katsuyu and was wrapped with a hastily torn strip of cloth as a bandage; her face was covered in blood and mud.

She walked over, said nothing, but silently squatted down, reached out her still-functioning hand, and gently pulled Ōnoki into her arms.