"It's Lady Tsunade! And Jiraiya-sama, and Orochimaru-sama!"
"Look! Sakumo-sama is back!"
"We won! We actually won!"
Cheers erupted all around him as Kenji stepped through Konoha's gates. Villagers lined both sides of the street, packed shoulder to shoulder. They waved and shouted, some crying, some laughing, many doing both at once. Children sat on their parents' shoulders to get a better view. Elderly civilians who'd lived through previous wars stood with tears streaming down their faces, grateful to see their village's ninjas coming home alive.
Without realizing when it had happened, he'd stopped thinking of Konoha as just a setting from an anime he'd watched in his previous life. Somewhere along the way, this place had become real. These people had become real.
This was home now.
The procession moved slowly through the village, giving people time to welcome back their loved ones. He spotted families reuniting, watched a woman collapse sobbing into her husband's arms, saw children tackle their father and nearly knock him over. Not everyone was celebrating though. Some people stood at the edges of the crowd with hollow expressions, waiting for ninjas who would never return.
After what felt like hours, they finally reached the central plaza where Hiruzen stood waiting. The speech was everything you'd expect. The Will of Fire again and again...
When he finally dismissed them, the crowd began to disperse. Most ninjas broke off to head straight for their homes. Some made plans to meet at bars later. Others just wanted to sleep in their own beds.
Kenji spotted his students near the edge of the plaza, clearly waiting for him. He made his way over through the thinning crowd.
"Sensei!" Haruto called out, waving enthusiastically.
"To celebrate our team making it back in one piece, let's have dinner tomorrow night. Yakiniku Q, my treat!" Kenji said when he reached them.
Haruto's entire face lit up. "Really? You're the best!"
The kid looked like someone had just told him he'd won the lottery. Yakiniku Q was legendary throughout the village. Run by the Akimichi clan, it served the kind of food that made your mouth water just thinking about it. It was also expensive enough that most ninjas considered it a once-or-twice-a-year splurge at best. For chunin living on mission stipends, it might as well have been a fancy restaurant in a noble's district.
"I'm not eating anything all day tomorrow," Kaede declared with seriousness, clenching both fists. "Saving every bit of stomach space for barbecue!"
"M-me too!" Aoi nodded so enthusiastically her hair bounced. Her face was flushed with excitement, already probably planning what she'd order.
"Don't worry about holding back," Kenji said with a grin. "Eat as much as you want. That's what tomorrow's for."
Being part of the Yamanaka clan had its perks. The Ino-Shika-Chō alliance meant he could get a significant discount at Akimichi establishments. Good food, good atmosphere, and he wouldn't go broke treating his students.
The three of them chattered excitedly about what dishes they'd order as they said their goodbyes and headed toward their homes. Kenji watched them go, feeling oddly satisfied. They'd all survived.
When he finally reached his own house and opened the gate, he sighed.
The yard was buried under fallen leaves. The house itself looked abandoned, which made sense since it essentially had been.
He walked through the yard slowly, leaves crunching under his feet. When he opened the front door, stale air hit him in the face. Everything inside was covered in a thick layer of dust.
Inside, the rooms were cold and silent, a sharp contrast to the bustling joy at the village gates.
He moved through each room. Living room, kitchen, his bedroom, and his parents' old room. Aside from the dust, nothing had been disturbed. Everything was exactly as he'd left it months ago when he'd deployed to the front lines.
In the living room, he stopped in front of the cabinet. The family photo sat there.
"I'm back," he said quietly to the photo.
The words felt inadequate, but what else was there to say? He'd survived another war. He'd been promoted. He had students now. Life went on, whether the dead were there to see it or not.
He rolled up his sleeves.
"Shadow Clone Technique."
Two clones appeared in puffs of white smoke, looking around at the dusty house with identical expressions of resignation.
"Alright," he said. "Let's get this place livable again. I want it clean before dark."
They split up the work without needing to discuss it. The clones shared his memories and thoughts, so coordination was automatic. One clone gathered all the bedding, clothes, and fabrics that needed airing out and carried them to the yard. Another grabbed cleaning supplies and started wiping down furniture, shelves, and surfaces. Kenji himself took the broom and started sweeping, working his way through each room.
Even with the help, it took hours. The house wasn't huge, but months of neglect had left their mark. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and some of the windows were so grimy they barely let light through.
By the time they finished, the sun was setting and his back ached from all the bending and reaching. But the house looked and smelled clean again. The windows sparkled, the floors shone, and fresh air had replaced the stale stuffiness.
He dispelled the clones and their exhaustion hit him. That was the downside of shadow clones, all the chakra they'd burned was gone for good. But it was worth it. The house felt like home again instead of a tomb.
Too tired to cook anything elaborate, he made himself a bowl of instant noodles and ate standing at the kitchen counter. The food was terrible, salty and artificial, but it filled his stomach. After months of field rations and whatever they could scavenge on campaign, even instant noodles tasted pretty good.
When he finished eating, he expected to feel tired enough to just collapse into bed. But instead, he felt restless. He grabbed his jacket and headed back out into the village.
The celebration had spread from the plaza to every corner of Konoha. Lanterns hung from every building. People moved in groups, laughing and talking, heading to bars or restaurants or just walking around soaking in the atmosphere.
He walked without any particular destination in mind, just letting the flow of the crowd carry him along. Someone bumped into him, mumbled an apology without looking up, and kept moving. A group of Academy students ran past, playing some kind of tag game and laughing.
Suddenly, something cold touched his face.
He stopped and looked up. Snowflakes were falling from the sky.
"Snow already," he murmured, holding out his hand. A snowflake landed on his palm and melted almost immediately.
The sight triggered something in him. From an office worker grinding through eight-hour shifts in a cramped cubicle to a ninja who'd just helped win a war. His days after transmigrating felt like a surreal dream
In his previous life, winter had meant Christmas parties he didn't want to attend, year-end reports that made his eyes glaze over, and the depressing realization that another year had passed without any real change in his circumstances.
Now winter meant something survival. Another year alive in a world that tried very hard to kill people.
He shook off the philosophical mood. Dwelling on the past, either life's past, never helped anyone.
A flower shop caught his eye, still open despite the late hour. He ducked inside. After a brief conversation with the elderly woman running the shop, he purchased several bundles of white narcissus.
Then he headed toward the cemetery.
At night, with only moonlight and the occasional lantern to illuminate the paths, it looked like something from a ghost story.
Most people would avoid a place like this after dark. In his previous life, he definitely would have. Graveyards at night were for horror movies, not real life. But that was before he'd killed people.
Before he'd seen battlefields where bodies stacked up like cordwood.
Before death had become just another part of the job, something that happened to people you knew and people you fought and sometimes almost happened to you.
In a world where jutsu like Edo Tensei existed, the concept of ghosts seemed almost quaint. If some spirit tried to haunt him, he'd probably just bind it to his service somehow. Waste not, want not.
The thought made him smile slightly as he navigated the paths between graves.
He found his parents' graves easily. Someone had been maintaining them, keeping the area clean. Probably a service the village provided for war dead.
The old flowers he'd left months ago were long gone. He placed fresh white narcissus in front of each headstone, taking care to arrange them properly.
When he finished, he sat down on the grass beside the graves. The ground was cold and slightly damp, but he didn't care.
"I hope you two found each other in the Pure Land. I know you didn't die together, so it might've taken a while. But hopefully you're reunited now. That'd be nice."
"I made jonin recently. And I'm a team leader, responsible for three students. Haruto, Kaede, and Aoi. Good kids, all of them. They made chunin during the war, which is impressive considering how young they are. We fought a lot of battles together. They handled themselves well."
The words came easier once he started.
"I killed a lot of people on the front lines. I did what I had to do to survive and complete missions. I think you'd understand that. You were both ninjas. You knew what the job required."
He trailed off, staring at the headstones. These weren't really his parents. He knew that. They belonged to the original owner of this body, the real Yamanaka Kenji who'd died or merged or been overwritten when he'd transmigrated. But their memories lived in his head, along with all their love and hopes for their son.
Did that make them his parents? He honestly didn't know. Identity was complicated when you had two lifetimes' worth of memories crammed into one skull.
"Anyway," he continued after a moment. "I just wanted to let you know I'm doing alright. I'll come back and visit again soon. Maybe bring some sake next time."
He stood up, brushing dirt and grass off his pants. The conversation had helped, gotten some of the weight off his chest. Whether his parents' spirits could hear him or not didn't really matter. It was better than bottling it all up inside. He had no intention of ending up like one of those villains in Naruto who lost their minds from emotional repression.
He moved on to his teammates' graves next.
His jonin instructor's headstone was nearby. He placed flowers and cleaned the headstone.
Then he approached his two former teammates' graves. Their graves were already clean, flowers placed recently. Their families had been here, probably earlier today when the homecoming happened.
He added his own bundles to the existing flowers and crouched between the two headstones. He stayed there for another minute. Then he stood and made his way back toward the cemetery entrance.
The village lights were visible in the distance. The living needed to keep moving forward. Dwelling on the dead too long just dragged you down with them.
---
The next morning, he woke early out of habit. Months of military routine had trained his body to function on minimal sleep and wake up alert. Even though he was back in his own bed, in his own house, safe behind Konoha's walls, the instincts remained.
He'd just finished breakfast when someone knocked on his door. A young chunin stood there with a message scroll.
"Summons from the Hokage," the messenger said. "Jonin meeting in thirty minutes."
Kenji thanked him, closed the door, and sighed. So much for relaxing. He changed into his standard uniform, made sure his forehead protector was straight, and headed out.
When he arrived at the Hokage's building, other jonin were already streaming in. He recognized most of them. The conference room filled up quickly. Jonin took their seats around the long table or stood along the walls if all the chairs were taken. The atmosphere was relaxed, people chatting quietly while they waited for the Third Hokage to arrive.
When Hiruzen entered, everyone fell silent. He sat at the head of the table and unrolled a scroll in front of him.
"Not long ago, Suna's diplomatic delegation arrived in Konoha. They submitted a formal peace treaty proposal. The purpose of today's meeting is to present these terms to you and hear your opinions. Should we accept Suna's offer or not?"
He gestured, and assistants began distributing copies of the treaty to everyone in the room.
Kenji picked up his copy and started reading, scanning through the formal language to get to the actual terms.
The core points were straightforward enough: Konoha and Suna would form an official alliance and pledge non-aggression. Both villages would recognize each other's territorial borders. Konoha would release the Third Kazekage and the One-Tail's jinchūriki back to Suna custody. In return, Suna would pay one billion ryō as "ransom" for their Kage and jinchūriki. Additionally, they would provide mineral resources valued at two billion ryō as war reparations. Total compensation: three billion ryō.
He read through it twice, making sure he hadn't missed anything.
Then he frowned.
Three billion ryō total? For a Kage and a jinchūriki? That was insulting. The Third Kazekage alone was worth more than that. A single ninja of his caliber could change the course of entire battles. And they were just handing him back for what amounted to pocket change on the national scale?
No territorial concessions either, just money and vague promises of alliance.
This wasn't a victor's treaty. This was barely even a compromise. If anything, it read like Konoha was the side suing for peace, not Suna.
But he kept his mouth shut.
Konoha had already withdrawn all forces from the front lines. That told him everything he needed to know about the higher-ups' intentions. This meeting was theater to make it look like they'd consulted with the jonin before making their decision. The treaty would be signed regardless of what anyone said here.
His experience from his previous life had taught him valuable lessons about workplace politics. Don't argue against decisions leadership has already made. It only causes trouble for yourself and accomplishes nothing. The smart play was to keep quiet, go along with it, and save your capital for battles you might actually win.
Looking around the room, most of the other jonin seemed to understand this too. They read through the treaty with neutral expressions, occasionally glancing at each other but not saying anything. The veterans especially looked resigned, like they'd seen this dance before.
The silence stretched out for almost a full minute.
Then Tsunade slammed her fist on the conference table.
CRACK!
The wood split straight down the middle. Several jonin flinched. A few reached for weapons instinctively before catching themselves.
"Are you kidding me?! They killed so many of our people! And now they think they can just pay some money and call it even? That we'll shake hands and become allies like nothing happened? No way!"
The room erupted into murmurs. Some jonin nodded agreement. Others looked uncomfortable. Everyone was watching to see how Hiruzen would respond.
"That's right!" Jiraiya stood up, backing his teammate. "This treaty is way too soft. At minimum, Suna should hand over their border strongholds to give us a strategic buffer. And the compensation should be doubled. At least!"
Orochimaru didn't stand or raise his voice, but he spoke up from where he sat. "The terms do seem remarkably generous considering Suna lost the war decisively."
Other voices joined in now that the trio had broken the silence. Some supported Tsunade's position. Others argued for accepting the treaty and moving on.
Hiruzen let them argue for a minute, then raised his hand. The room fell silent again.
"I understand your frustrations," he said quietly, looking at Tsunade and Jiraiya specifically. "After consulting with Homura and Koharu, I've decided we should accept these terms. The village has lost too many people. Our civilian population is desperate for peace. We cannot afford to prolong this conflict."
"Suna's losses were even heavier than ours!" Tsunade shot back. "They're the ones who can't keep fighting! They're the ones who should be begging us for mercy! So many others died. If we just shake hands with Suna like nothing happened, like their deaths don't matter, what was their sacrifice for? What did they die for?"
The room went very quiet. Everyone knew about her losses. Her boyfriend Dan, killed in combat. Her younger brother Nawaki, dead before he even made chunin. The war had taken everything from her.
Hiruzen's expression softened. "If we refuse to ally with Suna, they will almost certainly turn to Iwa instead. Then we would face a coordinated two-front threat. We cannot sustain another major campaign so soon. Furthermore, Kumo stayed out of this war entirely. While we and Suna bled each other dry, Kumo expanded their strength by invading the Land of Earth and seizing territory. Intelligence suggests their military capacity has grown significantly. They represent a serious future threat. We need Suna as an ally to help defend against potential aggression from Kumo."
Tsunade started to interrupt, but Hiruzen kept talking.
"Dan, Nawaki, and all the others who fell in this war were heroes of Konoha. They embodied the Will of Fire. They sacrificed themselves to protect this village and its people. Where the leaves dance, fire burns eternal. Their deaths were not meaningless. They died so that Konoha's next generation, our children, our students, could live and grow in peace. That is what this treaty provides. That is what they died for."
He delivered the whole speech with perfect sincerity, and Kenji had to admit it was effective. You could see it landing with some of the jonin in the room, see them nodding along. But he just sighed internally, recognizing a politician's deflection when he heard one. Hiruzen was good at this.
The truth was simpler and uglier: Konoha was exhausted, Suna was broken, and nobody wanted to keep fighting. The treaty was soft because both sides just wanted it to be over. And bringing Kumo into the equation gave Hiruzen cover to sell the deal to skeptics.
The meeting continued for another hour, but the outcome was never really in doubt. Tsunade and Jiraiya argued passionately, and a handful of other jonin raised objections or concerns. But the majority stayed silent, implicitly supporting Hiruzen's position through their inaction. Orochimaru observed everything but didn't push the issue.
When the final vote came, it was overwhelmingly in favor of accepting the treaty.
The Second Great Ninja War was officially over. Konoha and Suna would be allies.
As the meeting broke up and jonin began filing out of the conference room, Kenji remained seated for a moment, watching people leave. Tsunade stormed out without speaking to anyone, Jiraiya following close behind to try and calm her down.
He finally stood and made his way outside. The sun was high in the sky now, the snow from last night already melted. The village looked peaceful. But he knew better than anyone how temporary this peace would be.
The Third Great Ninja War was coming, just a few years down the line.