They returned to Konoha.
The moment Yemu and the Konoha 12 stepped through the village gates, all of Konoha seemed to fall silent.
The bustling streets, the busy shops, the noisy children-all seemed to freeze in an instant.
Every gaze turned toward them-they were returning heroes, but also bearers of terrible news.
An old man raised his cane with a trembling hand and murmured, "...Where is Lord Third?"
A middle-aged ninja whispered in disbelief, "No... it can't really be..."
But as the Jonin leading them gave a heavy nod, a single sentence spread rapidly through the village:
"The Third Hokage fell in battle."
That night, countless ninja in Konoha lay awake until dawn.
Sounds of mourning and sobbing, along with furious fists pounding the ground, walls, and even their own chests, echoed through every corner.
The Third Hokage had watched over almost an entire generation of Konoha as they grew up.
Now, in the wake of this surprise attack, he had been buried in darkness forever.
Several days later.
The funeral took place as scheduled.
Before Hokage Rock, the villagers stood solemnly in black.
Beneath the Memorial Monument, incense smoke curled upward and white chrysanthemums lay like snow, while grief and sorrow weighed heavily in the air.
Yemu and the Konoha 12 stood solemnly in the front row, dressed in black ceremonial combat attire.
His gaze was calm as he looked at the Third Hokage's memorial portrait.
Naruto wept, his teeth clenched so tightly they grated.
The old man in the photograph still wore that gentle smile, but no one would ever again hear him grumble, "You little brat."
Sakura cried quietly, Sasuke wore a complicated expression, and Neji, Shikamaru, Ino, and the others were all silent and solemn.
Konoha had entered a time of farewell to the Third.