Story × Voice

The story soon spread by word of mouth among the children who had been there and some adult clansmen who had watched silently from a distance.

The next day, a few inconspicuous figures appeared at the edge of the training ground.

They were Uchiha of Izuna's generation or a little older.

They stood silently at the edge of the training ground or pretended to be passing by. Unlike the younger people, they didn't come over, but their eyes occasionally swept toward Izuna as he led the children through their warm-ups.

Madara was there too. His icy gaze swept over the uninvited clansmen like a tangible blade, full of warning.

But the few ninja merely bowed slightly, respectful yet unwilling to leave. They were clearly determined to stay despite the pressure from their clan head.

The children, meanwhile, had been privately instructed by their parents or elders to keep pestering Lord Izuna for stories, and especially to ask more about the details of how danger had been averted in them.

How did one distinguish friend from foe in an unfamiliar, dangerous environment?

How did one protect oneself when the rules were harsh and the balance of power unequal?

How did one deal with those strange "enemies" whose abilities were unknown?

How did one make choices without clear guidance?

The choices Izuna made in his stories sometimes baffled the adults, but there was no harm in listening. After all, it was those choices that had allowed him to survive a place like that and leave.

The children were more than happy to carry out this "mission."

Sure, Lord Izuna's story was like a thriller, but it was exciting!

Besides, they were listening to a powerful person share his "adventure experience." Even if the setting was a little strange, the methods and ways of thinking he used to handle crises might actually come in handy on a mission someday.

What was more, Lord Izuna was animated and expressive when he told stories. He was much more interesting than the old stick-in-the-muds who taught classes in the clan!

So, over the next few days, Izuna happily discovered that the little Uchiha no longer just threw themselves into challenging him and getting beaten up.

Instead, they sat in a circle around him during breaks in training, their eyes shining as they pressed him to continue or asked questions about details in the stories he had already told.

"Lord Izuna, please tell us what happened next! What happened to that 'No-Face' afterward?"

"Lord Izuna, how did you think of using that method to fool the 'frog' guard?"

"What should I do if I run into a 'Yubaba' who eats people's names too?"

"What did it actually feel like to lose your name? How do you get it back?"

Izuna was rather pleased as he listened to their questions.

Aw, they really are kids after all. They like listening to stories and they're eager to learn. That's great!

He had no idea that he was now regarded as "a combat-oriented powerhouse with bizarre adventure experience," or that the ninja were treating him as an unconventional sort of "experience textbook."

Izuna generally answered whatever questions the children asked. It was all made up anyway.

But he was a university student with a modern education, at least. Making up stories was easy for him.

When answering a question like "How do you get your name back after losing it?" Izuna thought for a moment, combined the meaning of the original work with some inspirational platitudes he had heard, and began his "little lesson."

Izuna sat cross-legged, smiling as he spoke in a relaxed tone. "Yubaba had me write my name on a contract. After she grabbed the characters in her hand, the name disappeared. From then on, she called me Sen, and then she had me work according to the terms of the contract.

"Actually, I didn't feel anything after my name was taken. During the days when I was called Sen, I hardly noticed anything was wrong.

"Come to think of it, when you're in an unfamiliar place, buffeted by all sorts of rules, pressure, and temptations, you gradually forget who you are, where you came from, where you're going, and the goals and convictions you started with."

"Then naturally, it becomes hard to remember your name too, because in that kind of place, a name is just a label. It isn't important."

"Then how do you get it back?" a child asked eagerly.

"You have to figure it out," Izuna said. "Figure out who you really are, whose family you are, whose friend you are, and who's waiting for you to come home.

"Figure out what you're willing to fight for, what you're living for, and even... what you're willing to die for."

Looking at Izuna, who was still smiling as if he were talking about an ordinary little matter, the children felt an ache in their hearts. They were terribly sad, and some of the more sensitive children were already secretly wiping away tears.

"As long as you figure those things out and find what you truly believe in and hold to in your heart, your 'name'—your 'self'—will naturally come back."

Izuna tapped his chest with his fist. "It's always been there. It's just covered in dust, and you have to polish it yourself."

Izuna's words mixed a smattering of modern psychology with a great deal of inspirational fluff, and they almost gave him goosebumps.

But the children thought Lord Izuna was laying his own heart bare.

They stared at him in a daze.

In the sunlight, Izuna still wore that gentle, easygoing smile.

What kind of struggle, pain, and despair must he have gone through to say something like "figure out what you're willing to fight for, what you're living for, and even what you're willing to die for" in such a relaxed tone?

Getting your name and your self back sounds like a triumphant song of victory.

But Lord Izuna, what price did you pay? You lost so many memories. You can only call us younger clansmen you once taught by name, and we seem completely unfamiliar to you. Even the way you fight has become entirely different...

Why? After going through so many terrible things, how can you still smile so brightly and be so optimistic?

Some of the more sensitive children already had red-rimmed eyes. They quietly lowered their heads and wiped the stubborn moisture from the corners of their eyes with their sleeves.

They didn't dare let Lord Izuna see their tears. That would have been a desecration of his strength.

The silent Uchiha of his generation or a little older, standing at the edge of the training ground, reacted even more strongly.

Some of them had fought alongside Uchiha Izuna, supporting one another through mountains of corpses and seas of blood. They were comrades who had entrusted their backs to one another.

They had seen Izuna's sharpness when he planned calmly, his decisiveness as he killed on the battlefield, and his gentleness toward the younger generation in private.

Now they listened to this person, who wore a familiar face but had an entirely different bearing, describe how to get his name back in a tone so calm it was almost cruel.

It was as if they could see a hazy image of him struggling alone in a desperate situation.

That figure, both overlapping with and separated from their memories, overwhelmed them with waves of intense dissonance and heartache.

An Uchiha Jonin standing at the very front, who looked as young as Izuna, pressed his lips into a straight line. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes were red.

Then he abruptly lowered his head, turned, and strode away from the training ground.

His departure was like a signal. The other Uchiha watching also looked away one after another, some tilting their heads to look at the sky, others staring at the ground, all wearing indescribably complicated expressions.

Madara's expression was grim. He clenched his teeth and used all his strength to stop himself from pressing for answers.

Why... why did you end up in a situation like that?!

Where on earth was I?!

After saying all that, Izuna himself was momentarily stunned.

Just now, the instant he tapped his chest and said "it's always been there," a distant, indistinct voice had appeared in his mind without warning:

[We made a promise... Izuna...]

[You can definitely do it...]

[You have to stay alive...]

Izuna froze and blinked.

What's that? An auditory hallucination? Or a memory left in this body?

Before he could think about it further, the voice and the feeling vanished without a trace, like smoke scattered by the wind, as if they had only been his imagination.

He came back to himself and looked at the children sitting around him. Most had their heads lowered or were rubbing their eyes. The atmosphere seemed a little... too quiet?

Ah, was I too literary and inspirational just now? Did I leave them confused? Or did they not understand?

Izuna muttered to himself, feeling a little awkward.

He quickly adjusted his expression, put a relaxed smile back on his face, and clapped his hands, trying to liven things up:

"All right, all right, why do you all look so down? It's fine if a question like that is too deep to understand! Any other questions?"

In the days that followed, story time at the training ground became almost a regular event.

Izuna would pick animated films he had seen in his previous life that he thought were fairly suitable for adaptation, such as Princess Mononoke, Summer Wars, Welcome to the Space Show, and so on.

He removed elements that were too fantastical or didn't fit the era, adapted them into "legends of a faraway land," and told them to the children.

He spoke of the will of the forest and human greed, of amusing family stories and moments when humanity came together, of horse racing, the circus, and a magnificent supernova explosion.

Izuna thought he told the stories vividly, and that they were interesting and a little useful.

In particular, he found the makeup of the heroine's enormous family in Summer Wars interesting. This was a point he had mentioned in his draft.

A family's members could be scattered everywhere, work in every line of business, and even hold completely different views.

What mattered was belief.

As long as they shared the same belief, those scattered across different places, even those who weren't part of the family, could all become useful members.

But the others didn't see it that way.

What they wanted to hear was Izuna's story: where he had gone after escaping Yubaba's bathhouse, whom he had met, and what he had experienced.

But Izuna mostly described the beautiful scenery, the moving people, and the stories he had witnessed. He mentioned very, very little about himself.

And the geographical differences between the stories were so great that they couldn't help wondering whether Izuna was sparing their feelings, deliberately leaving out the hardships and difficulties he had faced along the way.

But when they saw the expression on the young man's face, as if to say, "I think these stories are interesting, so I hope you think they're interesting too," none of them could bring themselves to ask.

After training, Izuna usually went for a stroll along Konoha's newly built Commercial Street.

The changes were obvious.

Only a few days had passed since his "singing and dancing" in the street, but the once deserted, deathly quiet street had come alive in an entirely different way.

Simple but tidy stalls had been set up on empty patches beside the road, selling all kinds of snacks, ninja tool accessories, and basic everyday goods.

There were more pedestrians too. Besides the ninja hurrying to and fro, civilians in ordinary clothes had begun to appear with their families in tow.

People's faces were no longer numb or guarded. Instead, they showed a little anticipation for their new lives and the fulfillment that came from being busy. The greetings they exchanged sounded much more relaxed too.

As Izuna walked down the street, he was stopped almost every few steps.

Sometimes it was young women with flushed cheeks. They would lower their heads and quickly thrust a wildflower, a hand-braided cord, or a packet of homemade treats into Izuna's hands, softly say, "Lord Izuna, please accept this!" and run off like startled fawns before he could react.

At first, Izuna would awkwardly try to refuse. "Wait! I can't accept this! Miss, you..."

But more often than not, they had vanished before he could finish.

After it happened enough times, he could only helplessly accept these "tokens of appreciation," thinking he would find a way to return the favors when he had a chance.

Sometimes it was merchants newly arrived in Konoha, drawn there by his earlier "performance."

They would eagerly approach, first flattering Izuna's "singing voice" and "knowledge of Konoha," then get to the point. Rubbing their hands, they would ask with a merchant's characteristic shrewdness and caution, "Lord Izuna, what do you think everyone in Konoha needs most right now? What do they like best? What kind of business would make the most money?"

Izuna could offer a few answers to those questions.

He had at least learned a little in history and politics classes about things like "economic recovery in the early days of a nation," "meeting people's basic needs," and "developing specialized industries."

Though the specifics needed adjusting for this ninja world, the general direction couldn't be wrong.

"Food, clothing, shelter, and transportation. The basic necessities have to come first," Izuna said casually. "A stable, secure source of food, cheap fabric and ready-made clothes, sturdy everyday tools, and carriage businesses that can transport goods and people... those are all sure to turn a profit.

"Once everyone's lives have settled down and they have a little spare money, they'll naturally want to buy better things, eat good food, dress nicely, and have some entertainment... Then there'll be a market for restaurants, tailor shops, toy stores, bookstores, and the like."

The merchants nodded thoughtfully, thanked him, and left, clearly taking his words to heart.

The most frequent and casual "interceptions" came from the young ninja he had "called out" in public.

Inuzuka Dobin would pass by with her imposing Ninja Dog, "happen" to run into Izuna, and tease him until he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Hyuuga Haruhi still wore a cold expression, but he would invite Izuna to spar.

The Ino-Shika-Cho trio—Nara Shikyou, Yamanaka Iharu, and Akimichi Gaku—were even more frequent visitors. They often "ran into" Izuna and pulled him along to try a newly opened dango shop or discuss some far-fetched but interesting topic.

Young people like Sarutobi Sasuke, Aburame Pin, and Shimura Mu gradually grew familiar with Izuna too. When they met, they naturally greeted one another, shared amusing stories from recent missions, or arranged to train together next time.

To Izuna, this was perfectly normal!

A group of young people around the same age, getting along, training and playing together, and sharing amusing stories—wasn't that the best kind of youth?

He hadn't experienced that kind of school friendship before transmigrating, and he hadn't expected to make up for it this way in a ninja world. It felt pretty good!

However, everyone except Izuna himself—including the young ninja he regarded as "friends"—knew perfectly well that things were far from that simple.

They were indeed drawn to Izuna's pure, cheerful, unclouded disposition. When they were with him, they unconsciously set aside their family responsibilities, the burdens of their missions, and their vigilance as ninja, feeling a rare sense of relaxation and happiness.

But they were ninja first, elites in whom their respective clans had invested resources and who were already capable of standing on their own.

Personal feelings certainly played a part in befriending Izuna and maintaining that relationship, but they also had to consider it an investment in their clans' future plans and networks in Konoha.

At their private gatherings, the topics they discussed were entirely different from those they talked about with Izuna.

They fought openly and covertly, mocked and disparaged one another, cooperated and split apart. None of them truly considered the others "friends."

But as they spent more time with Izuna, their private gatherings increasingly revolved around "Uchiha Izuna."

"Izuna got that kid Takuma all riled up again today, haha."

"He actually accepted the treats that civilian girl made... Isn't he afraid there might be something wrong with them?"

"His older brother won't let him go on missions. Sigh, poor guy."

"Lord Madara was there again today. That Shadow Clone still looks as eerie as ever."

"Do you think Izuna... actually knows how... 'conspicuous' he is right now?"

"I don't think he knows." Inuzuka Dobin folded her arms and analyzed the matter calmly. "He seems to genuinely think everything is only natural and that everyone is a 'good friend.'"

"He's too innocent." Hyuuga Haruhi joined the discussion for once. His tone was still cold, but his brow furrowed slightly. "He's easily taken advantage of."

"And he's too softhearted," Nara Shikyou said slowly. "He's good to everyone. He even gives serious advice to merchants who approach him with obvious ulterior motives."

"He's strong, but..." Aburame Pin pushed up his sunglasses. "He's almost completely unguarded around other people."

"That's probably why Lord Madara keeps such a close eye on him." Yamanaka Iharu sighed. "Who wouldn't be tempted by a shining treasure like that, left out in the open? Not just the other clans, but those outside..."

She didn't finish, but everyone understood.

Though Konoha had been established, the Shinobi World was still unsettled. Enemy spies, mercenaries, underground forces... all kinds of dangers still existed.

"Let's keep an eye on him when we can," Sarutobi Sasuke said seriously. "He genuinely considers us friends. We ought to do something to repay him."

The others nodded silently.