Memorial Service * Morality

Hashirama stood in front of the gate, facing the dense crowd, and raised a hand to signal everyone to be quiet.

Chakra enveloped his voice, sending it into everyone's ears and silencing the surrounding noise. "Everyone! Thank you for coming to welcome us. We're back! The injured need rest, so please take them home first. We can talk things out at home! Now, everyone, disperse!"

Everyone nodded and began to leave one after another.

Just then, Yuan Yusheng cleared his throat and asked loudly, "So, Lord Hokage, when is this Memorial Service scheduled?"

Hashirama's smile remained unchanged, but Madara, standing next to him, noticed that Hashirama's eyes glazed over for a moment.

That was the expression on Hashirama— his brain was working frantically but finding nothing.

Madara knew that expression all too well; without making a sound, he kicked Hashirama in the heel from behind.

"Huh? Uh, ah, yes," Hashirama looked at Yuan Yusheng, then at Madara, and nodded vigorously. "It will be held. The Memorial Service with Rokuhiko and give everyone a plan as soon as possible."

Yuan Yusheng frowned, sensing that the Hokage seemed completely unaware of what he was talking about. The other Ninjas didn't even bother to listen, as if this matter had nothing to do with them and was merely a matter between him and Hashirama.

He and Wakako exchanged a glance, hesitated for a moment, and then Wakako pulled him away.

The crowd gradually dispersed.

The stretchers were taken away by the families, and the lightly wounded helped each other Earth Flow. Only a few guards remained in the open space in front of the gate, mopping the ground.

Hashirama stood there, watching the last group of people walk away. He nodded to Spotted and then turned and headed in the direction Yuan Yusheng had left.

"Daimyo lord! Please wait!"

Yuan Yusheng stopped and turned to look at him.

Hashirama caught up with him in a few strides, a smile that seemed to be a mixture of confusion and embarrassment on his face. He lowered his voice and asked, "Um, Daimyo- sama, may I ask, what is Memorial Service...?"

Yuan Yusheng was shocked to hear this. He and his wife exchanged a glance and saw disbelief in each other's eyes.

"Memorial Service..." Yuan Yusheng carefully chose his words, explaining, "Is... a ceremony that brings everyone together to collectively mourn those who sacrificed their lives on the battlefield."

Hashirama nodded thoughtfully. "I see."

Wakako tentatively asked him, "Don't you Ninjas... do this?"

Hashirama scratched the back of his head. "Uh... no, we don't have that custom."

Wakako tentatively pressed further, "Why? Do you think it's unnecessary?"

"No, no, no," Hashirama quickly waved his hand, looking earnestly at Wakako, "I think this is a great idea. Everyone comes to mourn, so everyone has an outlet for their emotions, which should make us more united. We can do it. It's just... how about the Memorial Service... we're not very familiar with it, can you help us?"

Yuan Yusheng looked at him but did not answer immediately.

He looked Hashirama up and down, then slowed his speech, "Helping is certainly possible. But Lord Hokage, why... is there no form of mourning?"

"Because we were all members of the clan before." Hashirama's tone was calm and sincere. "Back then, even the children had to go to the battlefield to help. Usually, when someone died, we would cremate or bury them on the spot. If we wanted to mourn, we would visit the Cemetery during our rest time. As for the collective mourning you mentioned... well... we would attend the funeral together after the battle. I don't know if that counts as a mourning ceremony."

"That does sound a bit like... wait," Yuan Yusheng realized something, "You just buried them, and then did nothing else, each going off to do other things?"

"Yes," Hashirama nodded matter-of-factly, "Isn't that how Memorial Service is?"

Yuan Yusheng was silent for a few seconds, and then he explained the procedures for the Memorial Service.

Everyone gathered together to observe a moment of silence for the deceased. The host read a eulogy, and the deceased's relatives or comrades-in-arms came on stage to recount their life's deeds. Then, everyone offered flowers or burned incense. Finally, the host gave a concluding speech.

In some places, a banquet is held to entertain relatives and friends who come to pay their respects, as a way to express gratitude to the living.

Hashirama listened attentively, but he did so with a smile.

Throughout the entire process, his face lacked the somberness expected of a mourner; instead, it displayed the pure curiosity of a child hearing a description of Amusement Park's attractions for the first time.

Yuan Yusheng frowned.

How could he... seem completely unmoved by such a heavy event as mourning someone?

Hashirama didn't notice the changes in the expressions of the two people opposite him.

He was still processing what he had just heard, and while processing it, he reacted in his own direct way. "I see! There are so many steps in Memorial Service! Relatives and friends going on stage to recount their deeds, that's good! It makes everyone remember what the deceased did, and everyone will be happy!"

Yuan Yusheng remained silent.

He stood there, looking at the smile on Hashirama's face, feeling something stuck in his throat, something he couldn't spit out or swallow.

Noticing her husband's silence, Wakako stepped forward and asked the question he had been holding back, "Lord Hokage, please forgive my intrusion—why do you seem... not very sad? Sixteen people died in this battle."

Hashirama paused for a moment upon hearing this, "Yes, what's wrong?"

"Those are the lives of sixteen people, don't you... feel sad?"

"That's why I'm happy," Hashirama said, his eyes shining brightly in the afternoon sun. "Our estimated death toll for this operation was actually two-thirds."

"With enemies of that caliber and fighting style, we were prepared to die. If we were lucky, half of us would come back. If we were unlucky, I'm afraid I would all lose my life there."

"After the battle, a headcount revealed that only sixteen people had died!"

Hashirama's eyes were filled with the joy of Kasuga sunshine, the sunlight giving him a golden hue on one side, making him look as radiant as Himawari.

"Everyone else came back alive! Although some are missing limbs, as long as they have a breath left, they can all slowly recover! Just thinking about that makes me so happy!"

Looking at that smile, Yuan Yusheng suddenly understood.

It wasn't that these Ninjas didn't care about the dead; rather, death was never an accident for them, but rather a normal occurrence.

The fact that only sixteen people died in a battle was seen as a victory, a miracle, by them.

It is a triumphant return worth celebrating.

Perhaps for these Ninjas, it would be better to gather everyone together for a good meal than to hold Memorial Service.

The living huddled around the campfire, feasting on large chunks of meat, laughing and talking loudly, and even drinking the food meant for the sixteen dead—this was their customary way of life.

He could already picture the scene, and he felt that Hashirama would be the first to raise his glass.

But that's precisely why this Memorial Service must be held.

It's not for the sake of the Ninjas of Konoha, it's for the sake of the people outside.

While waiting at the Konoha Gate, he saw that the expressions on the faces of those envoys were exactly the same as his own yesterday: confused, uneasy, trying to maintain outward politeness but their hearts were in turmoil.

Yuan Yusheng could easily guess how they would write their reports after returning to their own countries.

The Ninjas of the Land of Fire are exceptionally cold-blooded, showing no grief after the war and disdaining even to conceal their emotions. This is characteristic of war machines, not normal humans.

The Daimyo of the Land of Fire looked at Hashirama, a man who had only been Hokage for a few days, and saw such a sincere smile on his face that he couldn't bear to use political rhetoric to dampen his enthusiasm.

But he is the Daimyo of the Land of Fire, and the Land of Fire and Konoha are now in the same boat, their fates intertwined.

Especially now, Konoha is clearly severely weakened. If their Ninjas are treated as weapons of war, then the Land of Fire will likely be plunged into war immediately.

Even though Hashirama and Madara's Strength remains unparalleled, the village's fighting power has been somewhat reduced. Given this, when is a better time to start a war?

They'd consider it a win if they could just tear off a piece of flesh from the Land of Fire.

However, if Ninjas are treated as citizens of the Land of Fire, then each country will be unable to avoid the attacks on Konoha due to moral issues.

Even if they didn't do it, they must take responsibility for this and refrain from attacking the Land of Fire to prove their innocence.

Even knowing that Konoha was weakened and that now was a good time to act, they couldn't act rashly.

Because taking action would imply they were on the same side as the white monster, which is morally untenable.

And the only thing in this world that can truly restrain nobles is benevolence and morality.

It doesn't matter if Hashirama doesn't understand these things, as long as Yuan Yusheng does.

"Lord Hokage," Yuan Yusheng began, his tone more formal than before, "This Memorial Service needs to be conducted in a more formal manner. It doesn't need to be too large in scale, but the procedures must be complete."

"The location will be the Dueling Arena, and the time will be three days from now, at noon. Everyone from Konoha except the elders needs to be present."

Hashirama blinked, not quite understanding why Yuan Yusheng had suddenly become so serious, but he still nodded. "Okay, I'll make the arrangements."

"And you also need to draft the invitations," Yuan Yusheng said, looking at him. "Invite the Envoys from the Four Nations to attend; you'll be going up there to read the eulogy."

"Me?" Hashirama hesitated for a moment. "But I... I'm not good at saying those kinds of things."

"Your brother Tobirama Senju and Uchiha Izuna will know how to write it," Yuan Yusheng paused, then added, "By the way, how is Izuna's health?"

Meanwhile, Madara was heading towards the Hokage Building.

He'd been away from the village for the past few days, and the backlog of documents couldn't possibly have been left unattended. Knowing Tobirama as he did, he was absolutely certain that person was at the Hokage Building.

He found Tobirama in the Office on the second floor.

To be precise, it was Tobirama's Shadow Clone.

The Shadow Clone was sitting behind a small mountain of documents, approving documents with one hand, flipping through scrolls with the other, and holding a pen in its mouth.

Hearing footsteps, the Shadow Clone looked up at him, and upon realizing it was him, understood his meaning.

After quickly finishing grading the last sheet, he stood up and put his hand on Ban's shoulder.

A flash of light appeared from the Flying Thunder God technique.

The scene before Madara's eyes changed from the white walls of the Hokage Building to the cold stone walls of Laboratory.

The Shadow Clones dissipated the moment they landed, having exhausted their Chakra.

This wasn't Madara's first time here, but he still found Tobirama's Laboratory somewhat novel.

The Laboratory was filled with the smell of disinfectant, mixed with a subtler, more pungent odor.

Several sheets of draft paper covered with surgical procedures were spread out on the lab table, the handwriting so illegible that only the person who wrote them could decipher it.

The table was covered with all sorts of bottles and jars, some of which even made Ban feel a little dangerous.

Tobirama stood with his back to him in front of the lab table, holding a glass dropper and adding a pale blue fluorescent liquid into a petri dish.

He didn't turn around, but simply raised his hand to indicate the direction where Izuna was, and continued his research.

Following the directions, Ban's gaze fell on the narrow bed at the far end of the Laboratory.

Izuna lay there, covered with a thin blanket, his hair spread out on the pillow, the bloodstains on his face wiped clean, his skin so pale it almost blended into the sheets beneath him.

His breathing was steady, his chest rising and falling slowly under the thin blanket, as if he were simply asleep. But his left eye was only covered by a layer of gauze, and underneath the gauze was a depression.

Ban stared at the gauze for a long time, then lowered his voice and asked, "Has he never woken up?"

"No." Tobirama walked to the bedside, picked up the record board hanging at the foot of the bed, and turned a page. "It's always been like this. Don't worry, I've fed him liquid food and checked him out. He's just exhausted from Chakra and needs plenty of rest."

Madara stood by the bed, reached out and brushed the stray hairs from Izuna's forehead, his fingertips tracing Izuna's brow.

"About the eyes?"

"You've come at the perfect time; we're just one step away," Tobirama said. "I think you might want to take him home and give him his eyes again."

Ban frowned. "When did you become so understanding?"

"I just don't want this guy to notice anything unusual and cause any problems later," Tobirama said. "If you agree, then take him with you. I'll be there shortly."