Going to Work * Izuna

Ban, wearing an apron, stood in the kitchen, arranging the freshly shaped Rice Balls one by one onto a plate.

The Miso Soup was bubbling and steaming on the stove, and the aroma of grilled fish wafted over from the grill, mingling with the crisp morning air and filling the entire kitchen.

He arranged the last Rice Ball, took off his apron and hung it back on the wall, then picked up the tray and walked towards Izuna's room.

Strangely enough, Izuna would usually be awake by this time.

She'd either snuggle up to his back and whine, "What did you have for breakfast today, Brother Ban?" or rest her chin on the low table and drawl, "I'm so hungry!"

It's unusually quiet today; there's not even the sound of someone turning over.

Ban carried the tray through the corridor and was about to turn into the dining room when he suddenly felt a gust of wind blowing in from the direction of the courtyard, causing him to take a step back.

Ban placed the tray on the dining table and hurried to the Outer Corridor. The scene in the courtyard stunned him.

Izuna was standing in the center of the courtyard, barefoot on the white sand.

The morning light had just climbed over the eastern wall, bathing the entire courtyard in a soft, warm golden glow.

He was wearing a thin shirt, the cuffs fluttering in the wind, and his hair was a mess, as if he had just crawled out of a chicken coop.

His mouth stretched almost to his ears, he was as happy as a child. Most notably, his eyes had turned blood red, and the Mitsudomoe were slowly rotating.

Right now, he's making faces at his family's fishpond.

"Brother!" Izuna heard footsteps and practically jumped as he turned around. "I can finally Sharingan! Look, look, look!"

He pointed to his eyes, leaned closer, and blinked several times as if afraid he couldn't see the spots clearly.

Ban suddenly remembered what Mokushō had said last night.

The Tengu Clan awakens both the Sharingan and wings simultaneously.

Izuna unconsciously awakened his Sharingan yesterday and even used the Mitsudomoe to block his own Genjutsu attack. His current excitement suggests he didn't realize it yesterday?

He had intended to mention, "You already opened it yesterday," but looking at Izuna's incredibly bright Sharingan and the pure joy on his face, he swallowed his words.

Well, it's rare for him to be so happy, let him be happy for a while longer.

At that moment, Ban noticed that the fallen leaves in the courtyard were fluttering in a completely illogical trajectory.

The withered yellow leaves swirled in mid-air, circling around Izuna, forming a whirlwind.

Wherever Izuna hopped around, whirlwind followed, which was very strange, but Izuna seemed unaware of it, appearing completely oblivious.

"Izuna, this wind is a bit strong." Madara raised his hand to shield his eyes from the wind. "Can you make it stop?"

"Huh?" Izuna stopped in his tracks.

In an instant, the wind stopped, and only the sound of wind chimes being blown into the air proved that the wind was still there.

His younger brother looked down at his hands, then looked up at Ban, his expression shifting from excitement to confusion. "What wind?"

Got it. The Tengu uses wind like breathing; it's automatic.

Madara looked at Izuna, whose head was covered in fallen leaves but who seemed oblivious to it, and finally couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Go take a shower, then eat."

"Okay, Brother Ban!"

The two went out after finishing breakfast.

Izuna walked ahead and pushed open the courtyard gate.

He took a deep breath of the cool morning air and was in an incredibly good mood!

He can Sharingan on and off. He ate three Rice Balls and a whole grilled fish for breakfast, and Madara even promised to give him an extra Three-Colored Dango today!

Is there a more beautiful morning in the world?

Then his body reacted before his brain did.

With a slight twitch of the muscles in his shoulder blades, a pair of jet-black wings sprang out from his back with a whoosh.

His toes had already left the ground, and his body was leaning slightly forward, maintaining a posture as if he was about to take off.

With lightning speed, Ban grabbed his wing and pulled him down!

Izuna felt a sudden, tingling pain throughout his body, and he fell backward with a thud onto his own front door.

"Ouch! It hurts! Madara! Let go!" Izuna lay on the ground, her wings flapping twice in Madara's hand, a few feathers were torn off and drifted down onto the stone pavement.

He turned his head, tears welling in his eyes from the pain, Sharingan involuntarily activated. "Why are you pulling me!"

"Your wings can feel something?" Madara released his grip, his brow furrowing. Seeing Izuna's pained expression, he realized he might have pulled quite hard.

"Of course I can feel it!" Izuna got up from the ground, rubbing the base of his wing that had been pulled so hard, and complained, "Wings are made of flesh too, try pulling yourself! No, you don't have wings, anyway, it hurts a lot!"

Just then, Madara sensed someone walking this way.

The footsteps were neither hurried nor slow, suggesting that it belonged to a tribesman who had gotten up early to go out.

He grabbed Izuna by the back of her collar, opened the courtyard gate behind her, and shoved Izuna, who was still rubbing her wings, back inside.

The movements were clean, swift, and executed in one smooth motion.

"Fold your wings back," he said to Izuna in a low voice through the door.

"... Oh, okay." A rustling sound came from behind the door.

Ban stood nonchalantly at his doorstep, arms crossed, watching the passing tribesman walk away with a blank expression.

Upon seeing Madara, the man bowed respectfully from a distance and greeted him, "Lord Madara."

Madara nodded slightly in response, maintaining his cold expression that could scare away any foolish Ninja, until he was sure the other person was far away before turning around and opening the door.

Izuna was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Genkan, his wings had been retracted, and the back of his clothes was perfectly smooth.

Banxin wondered, "What exactly is the structure of these wings?"

Izuna saw him walk in, a hint of resentment in his expression.

Ban stood in front of him, looked down at his younger brother who had given him a lot of "surprises" from the very beginning, remained silent for a moment, and then spoke seriously.

"Izuna, your common sense is a bit off. From now on, no matter the occasion, don't expose your wings, understand?"

Izuna looked somewhat confused, as if he didn't understand why he said that, but he still agreed, "Okay."

Madara sighed as he looked at Izuna, feeling that this was a troublesome situation.

Izuna acted strangely after Isshiki.

Although he's still the same younger brother who would haggle over a single Three-Colored Dango, he's still as happy as a child when he can freely Sharingan on and off.

But some things are indeed different now.

He unconsciously flaps his wings, wanting to fly into the sky; he jumps off cliffs without thinking it's normal; and so far, he hasn't realized anything is wrong.

The Yōkai named Mokushō said that the Tengu was very strong, able to summon wind and rain, and was invincible.

But if the price of becoming stronger is that Izuna loses something, then he would rather Izuna remain the same.

"Madara-nii?" Izuna tilted his head to look at him, his Sharingan already deactivated, revealing his usual bright black eyes. "What are you thinking about? Your expression is scary."

Just then, Izuna's eyes widened suddenly, a belated look of horror crossing his face. "Holy crap, I was actually thinking of flying straight there! Flying straight there! How weird!"

"So you know about the supernatural, huh?" Madara raised an eyebrow; his reaction time was incredibly slow, almost circling the entire Konoha Village.

"You can't blame me for this," Izuna said confidently as he walked out. "Of course I'd use wings, just like I'd walk if I had legs. It's instinct! Instinct, you know?! Sigh, never mind, I'd better get to work. These past few days while I've been unconscious, the files have probably flooded my desk..."

"The documents were all approved a long time ago." Madara followed him out of the courtyard gate, his tone returning to its usual indifference. "Tobirama himself."

Izuna paused, turned around, and asked with a subtle expression, "He's alone? Should I kowtow to him before I go to work?"

"No need, he'll be happy if you give him more work to do."

"... You're making it sound like Tobirama is some kind of masochist." Izuna gave me the look of an old man looking at his phone on the subway, then quickly put the topic out of his mind and quickened his pace toward the Hokage Building.

Throughout the journey, Izuna felt inexplicably lightheaded.

The stone pavement underfoot seemed softer than usual, and the morning light shone on the eaves of the houses along the street, turning the tiles into a warm gold.

The aroma of firewood wafting from the roadside breakfast stalls, mingled with the fragrance of Miso Soup, smelled better than ever.

He knew perfectly well that people had died in this battle; when Ban-ge pressed him down on the tatami with red eyes, he should have realized that the casualties would be considerable.

But the heavy thought never took shape in his mind, like looking at a distant mountain through a thin mist, its outline blurred and its color pale, impossible to see clearly.

As he passed through the Commercial Street, several children ran out of the alleyway, chasing a cat that belonged to someone else and darting past his feet.

One of the little girls with her Dango almost bumped into his leg. After a sudden stop, she looked up and saw it was him. Her eyes immediately lit up. "Good morning Lord Izuna!"

"Good morning, good morning." Izuna bent down and ruffled the little girl's disheveled hair, making it even messier.

The children swarmed around him, bombarding him with questions: Where had he been these past few days? Had he been injured? How serious was his injury? When could they play together again?

His ears were ringing from the noise of the Little Bean, but he wasn't annoyed at all. On the contrary, he found the little brats adorable no matter what, even the one wiping his snotty nose with his sleeve was cute.

He squatted down, took out a few Konpeitō) from his sleeve, gave one to each of the children, then stood up, waved, and continued walking.

The children shouted "Lord Izuna!" from behind.

"What a wonderful place," he thought.

He walked all the way to the Hokage Building with this lighthearted and cheerful mood.

When he entered the Office, Tobirama was already inside.

There were far fewer documents piled on the table than he had expected, indicating that Tobirama had indeed been doing the work of three people these past few days.

Tobirama looked up at the sound of footsteps, his Red Eyes lingering on him for a moment before he expressionlessly pulled a scroll from the top of the pile of documents and handed it to him.

"Take a look at this first; it's the schedule for the Memorial Service. I've already shown it to the Daimyo Secretary, and the arrangements are finalized."

Izuna took the scroll and unfolded it.

The Memorial Service is scheduled for the Dueling Arena, at noon two days from now.

The process was written in great detail, with the person in charge listed after each item.

It's clear that Tobirama and the Daimyo put a lot of thought into this matter.

His gaze swept down line by line, then stopped on the list of victims.

Among the sixteen names, there were two that he recognized.

Hyuuga Haruhi and Senju Asari.

Two names sat quietly in the middle of the list, arranged alongside fourteen other names, all in the same neat font, showing no particular difference.

He stared at the two names for a long time, thinking to himself.

How did these two people end up on the death list?

Kasuga occasionally tells lame jokes with a straight face, but she never laughs afterward. She just calmly watches others laugh uproariously with her rolled Byakugan.

Asari hates the Uchiha and also hates him, but when it comes to moving props, he always rushes to the front. That day, when the stage was being set up, he carried all the heaviest beams without saying a word.

However, Izuna, realizing his own situation, did not feel sad.

He only felt it was a pity.

It's like when I hear on the news that someone has died somewhere, all I think about is reminding myself to be careful.

Tobirama was observing his expression.

From the moment Izuna received the scroll, his gaze never left Izuna's face.

He saw Izuna pause on the list, his brow furrowing slightly, his lips pressed into a thin line, and then... nothing more.

There were no reddened eyes, no trembling fingers, no dazed look after being struck by grief. There was only a barely perceptible frown and a soft, almost inaudible sigh.

This didn't quite match his impression of Izuna, who valued those around him.

Tobirama put down the documents in his hand and couldn't help but ask, "What are you thinking about right now?"

Izuna looked at the scroll and said, "I'm thinking, how can a person just disappear so easily?"

Tobirama was taken aback.

How could he be so calm in the face of death?

"How did they die?" Izuna asked.

"He died instantly, his heart was pierced; Asari's head was the puncture site..."

"Then there's really no hope." Izuna rolled the scroll up again. "Did they leave a suicide note?"

Tobirama was taken aback.

The situation took an unexpected turn, leaving all the words of comfort he had prepared stuck in his throat.

He had expected Izuna to be silent and downcast, needing someone to say something to fill the void, but Izuna simply asked a very practical question as if it were a routine document.

"No, usually not," Tobirama answered truthfully. "Nobody cares about that."

"Wait, don't Ninjas, such a high-risk profession, have a tradition of writing wills?" Izuna's brows furrowed even deeper, his tone puzzled. "Don't you think this is unreasonable? What if they had any unfulfilled wishes? To just leave without saying anything is too casual."

Tobirama was silent for a few seconds. "Don't you feel sad?"

Izuna blinked, as if he had been asked a question that was completely unexpected.

He shook his head frankly. "No. I'm not that close to Kasuga, and as for Asari, I don't have much interaction with him."

"But the dead deserve respect. If they had any unfulfilled wishes, I will help them fulfill them, which is why I asked if you had a will. If they did, at least we'll know what they wanted."