Returning to the village: Everyday life
The silence Hashirama was like a boulder sunk into the deep sea, continuing all the way.
Their eyes occasionally met, and they both saw the same turbulent waves and unspeakable heaviness in each other's eyes.
They dared not ask Izuna any more questions.
The mere words spoken were enough to unleash a devastating storm in their hearts, not to mention the undercurrent of pain surging beneath Izuna's carefully maintained composure as he narrated.
It was a tragic past that they had never experienced, yet through Izuna's description, they felt as if they were witnessing it firsthand—a past that lost Hashirama, and perhaps even more loved ones.
They couldn't imagine what kind of feelings Izuna had carried all of this to this day, or how he could... after experiencing all of this, still be able to show such a bright, even somewhat carefree, smile to the now perfectly healthy Hashirama.
Madara's gaze almost never left Izuna.
He looked at his younger brother, who, after pouring out his heavy past, seemed to have regained his usual optimism as if it were just a story.
On the remaining journey back to Konoha, he no longer stayed in the stagnant carriage, but instead climbed out and moved back and forth among the convoy.
He put his arm around the shoulders of the young Ninjas, discussing his experiences in Kyoto, and imitated the exaggerated tone of a certain nobleman, which made everyone burst into laughter.
He discussed with the Akimichi Clan which restaurant had the crispiest Tempura, complained to Nara Shikahiko about the mountain of paperwork he would have to deal with after returning to the village, and even had the leisure to tease a little fox that happened to dart through the forest.
He wore a bright smile and spoke in a clear voice, as if the person who had calmly recounted the death of his close friend and his own trauma in the train carriage was not him at all.
It was as if... the bloody past he spoke of was just an insignificant story that had long since faded away, having no effect on his current mood.
But Ban knew that wasn't the case.
The more relaxed and happy Izuna appeared, the more anxious Madara became.
He knows his younger brother too well.
How could someone who could become so enraged and completely lose control upon seeing Black Zetsu not be sentimental? How could they truly be indifferent to the deceased?
His apparent indifference at this moment is precisely because he cares too much.
When Izuna was little, if he fell down and scraped his knee, he would get up first, dust himself off, and then run to him with a pout and tears in his eyes, asking for a hug.
As he grew older, if he got injured during training or was severely reprimanded by his father, he would always hide away first to treat his wounds and calm himself down before appearing in front of others, trying his best to act as if nothing had happened, using extra effort and smiles to prove that he was okay.
This Izuna was the same way. When faced with their suspicions and when his own flaws were discovered, he did not show weakness, but instead tried his best to cover them up.
Every single time.
Izuna was an incredibly strong person.
That's why he didn't choose to dwell on those memories after recounting the ones that Madara and Hashirama couldn't empathize with, memories that were inevitably filled with pain and loss.
Instead, bury it deep inside, and then face the present moment with double the enthusiasm and energy.
He would rather bear that heavy, painful memory, possibly from another world, alone than let Madara and Hashirama feel even the slightest burden or guilt because of it.
He was fulfilling, in his own way, the dream he had made by the river years ago—a dream that would spare the children from going to war—and at the same time, he was making up for the irreparable regret in his memory.
Ban understood this, which is why he became even more silent and heartbroken.
He couldn't bring himself to offer words of comfort, for any comfort would be an intrusion. Words seemed inadequate beneath Izuna's flawless smile.
He could only watch and guard, suppressing all his doubts, worries, and turbulent emotions deep in his heart, transforming them into an even stronger determination to protect them.
Although Hashirama didn't think as deeply as Madara, he understood that Izuna didn't want them to worry.
How can I not worry?
But what good is worrying?
He showed him through his actions that the only way to live is to keep moving forward, so what right did he have to feel sorry for him?
He opened his mouth several times, as if to say something, but in the end he only managed a smile that looked more like a grimace. Then he tried even harder to participate in the topic that Izuna had brought up, attempting to cooperate with his usual cheerfulness.
In this complex and indescribable atmosphere, Konohagakure finally came into view at the edge of the horizon.
The familiar scent of the forest wafted over, and the Ninja on duty at the village watchtower spotted the convoy in the distance and signaled that it was safe.
The village gate slowly opened.
However, the imagined scene of a warm welcome or curious onlookers did not occur.
Everything in Konoha was as usual.
Pedestrians strolled leisurely along the streets. Shops remained open as usual, and Ninjas either hurried off to hand over missions or gathered in twos and threes near the Training Grounds to discuss something. Children chased and played in the open space, their laughter ringing out.
A sense of calm yet busy daily life permeated the air.
The Ninjas who remained in the Kyoto mostly gave the team a curious glance or a nod in greeting before going back to their own business.
In their view, Izuna had simply led a group of elite troops to the Capital of the Land of Fire on a rather complex special mission, and now that the mission was over, he had returned—that was all.
Although I heard it was some kind of performance assignment, which seemed novel, it was only novel to me.
It's only natural for Ninjas to go on missions. Whether the mission is to kill, protect, investigate, or even act, as long as it's completed, that's all that matters.
As for the sensation it caused in Kyoto, how it was adored by nobles and commoners alike, the stories of exorcising demons and rebuilding neighborhoods...
These details have not yet been widely disseminated, and even when news of them is relayed back, most Ninjas, accustomed to battles and missions, subconsciously dismiss them as "part of the mission" or "exaggerations" and therefore not take them seriously.
Konoha is still the same Konoha, calm, busy, full of new life, but also with the Ninjas' certain insensitivity to abnormalities.
This huge contrast left the Konoha team members, who had just escaped the grand and chaotic farewell in Kyoto, somewhat dazed.
It's as if... all the thrilling moments, the joys and sorrows, the spotlight and the excitement that followed were just a dream that was too real.
Now, the dream is over, and they have returned to their familiar and ordinary daily lives.
Izuna was the first to leave the group, stretching lazily with a bright smile on his face, and waving to the few familiar villagers who came to greet him.
"Hey! We're back! Nothing much has happened in the village these past few days, has it?"
"Lord Izuna, welcome back. Everything is normal."
"That's good! By the way, are the Three-Colored Dango sold out today?"
"I knew you'd ask, so I saved one for you."
"Yay!"
Madara and Hashirama also got off the train one after the other.
Looking at the peaceful village Hashirama him, Hashirama took a deep breath of the familiar air, and the heavy feeling in his heart seemed to be lightened a bit. But when he saw Izuna's relaxed and natural figure, as if he had truly returned home, that complex emotion surged up again.
Madara silently Earth Flow Izuna's side, his gaze sweeping over the seemingly normal surroundings before finally settling on his younger brother's profile.
Izuna seemed to notice his gaze, turned his head, and gave Madara a smile brighter than the sun.
"Brother Ban, let's go home."
Madara looked into those clear, bright eyes, which seemed to hold the peaceful scene before him. His throat bobbed, but in the end, he simply raised his hand and ruffled Izuna's hair, letting out a soft "Mmm."