... Nothing has truly changed here.
Yoichi arrived at a secluded spot that felt strikingly familiar. The thatched houses remained sturdy despite the dampness.
Faint clicking noises echoed from the nearby cavern, and the constant rain remained as heavy as ever.
The atmosphere was a mirror of his own past, frozen in time while he had changed entirely.
It seems the cycle just keeps repeating for everyone else.
After examining the logs and a discarded roster at the post, the truth became clear. Hayate and the others hadn't been executed; they had been buried alive in a different way. They were deployed into the very same mines where Yoichi had prevailed.
Based on the records and his own analysis of the political climate, the situation was grim.
Hayate had been punished by Hanzō, sentenced to guard the deep mines for over twenty years.
It was a calculated move.
By keeping him there, Hanzō had successfully undermined Hayate's reputation throughout the Land of Rain, turning a hero into a forgotten ghost of the tunnels.
Determined, he looked toward the dark mouth of the cavern. If his friends were in those mines, he knew every crawlspace and dead end better than any guard.
Suddenly, the clicking noise from the cavern stopped, replaced by the heavy, rhythmic thud of armored boots approaching the entrance.
"Who's in there?"
The voice was like grinding stone, echoing through the damp tunnel. Two silhouettes blocked the path, their presence felt before they were seen.
One stood tall and rigid, shoulders broad, while the other was a slighter shadow blended seamlessly into the jagged rock.
Reality really did a number on them, Yoichi mused.
Genji's old, boisterous optimism had been crushed into a grim, professional stoicism.
He didn't smile; he observed. Beside him, Hikari's childhood shyness had turned into a lethal, tactical quietness.
They stood as the hardened watchers of the night, forged by the very darkness they were assigned to guard.
He stepped out of the mist, the Face Changing mask dissolving to reveal his true features.
The sharp Uchiha lines and the weight in his eyes reappeared, unmistakable even in the dim lantern light.
"Yoichi?!" Hikari gasped, her voice breaking the silence. She took an instinctive step forward, her eyes filling with a sudden, painful light.
Genji instantly extended an arm, his hand firm against her chest to halt her progress.
He didn't move closer.
Instead, he narrowed his eyes, a sharp, sarcastic smirk cutting through his hardened expression.
"Careful, Hikari," Genji remarked, his tone dripping with bitter irony. "Why has the honored Uchiha Yoichi graced our wretched lands with his presence? I figured he'd be too busy being a legend to remember a couple of rats in a hole."
"I didn't come here to be a legend," Yoichi said, his voice steady. "I came because I finally found where you were hidden."
"Found us? It took you a decade just to remember us?!"
He stepped closer, lantern light catching the exhaustion in his face. "We waited, Yoichi. Every time a new guard was posted, we looked for you. We thought we were in this together. Forever, remember?"
The silence was heavier than the stone above.
Hikari's eyes were wet, her quietness heart-wrenching.
Genji let out a harsh, joyless laugh.
"You vanished into the sun while we were buried in the mud," Genji spat, voice trembling with rage.
"You didn't just leave the village. You left us to rot."
"I can't give you those years back," Yoichi said, his expression softening. "But I'm not leaving without you again."
Far down the tunnel, a metallic chime signaled the changing guard.
"Enough, Genji," a dry, rasping voice emerged from the shadows.
A figure shuffled into the light, leaning on a staff.
His hair was brittle white, and deep wrinkles carved a face that looked like translucent parchment.
Despite the wreckage of time, Hayate's eyes remained sharp and piercing.
"The Uchiha finally decides to come home," he rasped.
Hayate looked at his students with a fatherly weight. For a decade, he had been their anchor.
He had raised Genji, Hikari, Munekatsu, and Towa in the dark, shielding their spirits and teaching them to survive the impossible.
"Don't blame them for their anger," Hayate said, his presence unshakable despite his frailty. "I taught them to endure, not to wait for miracles."
"Hayate-san..." Yoichi muttered, head low.
Throughout his years in the dark, Hayate had been his backer, the man who shaped his foundation.
Standing here now, the weight of his departure felt like a betrayal he couldn't wash away.
"I don't blame you, kid," Hayate said, his rasping voice softening. "You did what was best for you. You're an Uchiha. I don't hold the past against you."
Seeing Yoichi's head droop further, Hayate's tone suddenly turned stern, cutting through the sentiment. "Regardless... you can't be here. Not now. Tension between the Hidden Villages is at a breaking point."
"But I can help you!" Yoichi rebuked, his eyes flashing. "We can escape together. Do you really want to stay in this cursed land?"
"And then what?" Genji retaliated, stepping forward.
"Sell out the village that put us here? We are Chūnin of the Rain, Yoichi! We don't bite the hand that feeds us, no matter how bitter the meal. Could you betray Konoha for our sake?"
Yoichi fell silent.
The question hit a wall he hadn't yet climbed.
"See? You can't even say it," Genji added, his voice dripping with venom.
"Go back to being a superstar. We're living in different worlds now. You're a legend, and we're just... suffering in this goddamn place."
"But Genji—" Hikari tried to intervene, her voice small.
"Enough!" Genji roared, the sound echoing off the cavern walls. "This ends here. Get out, Yoichi. Get out before I lose my mind and arrest you for infiltrating our lands!"
The air in the tunnel grew suffocatingly still.
Yoichi looked at his friends—hardened, loyal to a fault, and broken by a village that didn't love them back.
"... I'll end this no matter what," Yoichi said, eyes burning with a new resolve. "I'll help you all. Just... trust me."
Hayate's rugged hands guided him toward the exit. Genji scoffed, turning his back. "Suit yourself! We survive on our own. I expect nothing from you!"
As Genji retreated into the dark, a single tear escaped his eye. Hikari followed, her gaze lingering on Yoichi's back with silent longing.
Memories of their shared laughter and misery flashed through their minds. Now, these things were ghosts of a bond now severed by the chains of fate.
"Thank you for keeping your promise, Hayate-san," Yoichi murmured, his heart like lead.
He respected their choice to stay, yet the guilt of leaving them behind gnawed at him.
"I've heard of your accomplishments," Hayate remarked, a glimmer of warmth in his tired eyes.
"I'm proud of you, kid. But leave now. Only time can fix the mess you've made."
Yoichi looked up at the weeping sky, the gloom perfectly mirroring his soul.
"Take care of yourself, Hayate-san."
Before the old man could protest, Yoichi pulled a heavy chest from his Space Pouch and vanished into the rain.
Hayate opened the lid to find stacked gold bars and bundles of currency—wealth accumulated from the Silver Roulette.
It couldn't mend their friendship, but it would ensure they never went hungry again.
"This brat..." Hayate shook his head, a ghost of a smile appearing. "Take care of yourself too!"
As Hayate hauled the chest back into the shadows, Yoichi dashed through the damp trees, his silhouette a lonely blur against the storm.
Though he was rational at all times, this moment made him feel human. These people were the anchors of his mind, the reason he pushed forward, yet the weight of their rejection broke his composure.
Warm tears finally spilled over, mixing with the cold rain.
"Damn it!"
From the lightless mines of his youth to the treacherous politics of Konoha, he had survived everything thrown at him. But this gnawing sense of fate spiraling out of control was suffocating.
It felt like no matter how much power he gained, the people he loved remained just out of reach, trapped in a reality he had helped create by leaving.
The realization didn't just hurt; it broke his mind.
He sprinted faster, his breath hitching in his chest.
The trees became a blur of grey and green as he fled the second home he had ever truly known.
I will change this, he vowed through gritted teeth, his spirit flickering like a candle in a gale.
I will tear down the walls of this world if I have to.
...
"Thanks for your service!" Yoichi then slowly went inside of the village after the thorough scanning.
"Where are they?"
After sprinting for three days, Yoichi arrived at the gates of Konoha in the middle of the night. His clothes were stained with the dust of the road, his expression unreadable. The guard on duty straightened up, recognizing him instantly.
"Ummm... Lord Jiraiya and Lord Orochimaru both took a mission," the guard reported. "As for Lady Tsunade, we don't know where she is..."
Maybe she's gambling again, Yoichi sighed.
He felt the crushing weight of his failure in the Rain Country, but he took a deep breath, pushing the grief down. Yoichi buried the burden deep in his heart, locking it away behind a mask of boredom.
"Thanks for your service!"
Yoichi moved past the checkpoint after a thorough scanning. He walked aimlessly through the quiet streets, letting the cool night air settle his nerves.
As he turned down a dim alleyway toward a familiar shortcut, he caught sight of a figure slumped over a small table outside a closed stall.
It was Tsunade. She sat alone under a flickering lantern, several empty sake bottles standing like sentinels around her. She didn't notice him at first, her head resting on one hand while the other loosely gripped a porcelain cup.
"Yoichi!"
Tsunade lunged from the stool, her movements loose and heavy. She crashed into his chest, locking her arms around his neck in a desperate, suffocating grip.
The scent was immediate—a sharp, stinging reek of sake clinging to her breath and skin.
"You're finally back," she whispered against his shoulder, her voice thick and breaking.
The weight of her body felt familiar yet fragile.
Yoichi held her firmly, ignoring the alcohol as he felt the tremors in her frame. He gently stroked her hair, trying to anchor her. "You're drunk, Tsunade. Come on, let's go home."
"I'm fine! Don't tell me what to do," she retaliated, pushing weakly against his chest with a stubborn glare. Her eyes remained glazed and unfocused.
"I'm perfectly okay."
Yoichi didn't argue. A quick nod toward the chef and a stack of bills on the counter settled the tab. Without a word, he swept her up into a firm princess carry.
"Put me down, you arrogant Uchiha," she grumbled, yet she instinctively buried her face into his neck, hands clutching his shirt for balance.
Walking through the silent, moonlit streets, a knot of concern tightened. Nawaki was safe and the war was at a lull, so why this downward spiral?
They reached her room, the door clicking shut behind them. Moving toward the bed, the heavy silence of the apartment felt more suffocating than the damp tunnels of the Rain.
Yoichi laid her gently onto the mattress, but as the pull away began, Tsunade's grip tightened on his collar. She yanked him down, forcing him onto the bed beside her. Clouded by alcohol and insecurity, those amber eyes searched his face.
"Do you... do you even like me?" she whispered, the words slurred but heavy with genuine doubt.
Stunned by the vulnerability, Yoichi reached out. Fingers traced the curve of her jaw before softly brushing blonde hair away from her forehead.
"Why would you even think that?"
"Because you didn't... you didn't even try to show affection to me," she murmured, a stray tear tracing a line into the pillow. "I thought I was just too brash. That maybe you didn't actually want me."
The words hit like a physical blow.
Standing as a stoic survivor, warrior, and strategist for so long had caused a lapse in being a partner.
Nothing lovey-dovey or tender had been offered; the bond had been treated with the same professional distance used for everything else.
Leaning in closer, his forehead rested against hers. The smell of sake faded, forgotten in the face of such deep-seated sadness.
Tsunade suddenly clasped his face with both hands, pulling him into a kiss.
It started messy and desperate, fueled by the drink, but soon evolved into a sloppy French kiss.
The heat between them surged forth, like a fiery furnace ready to stoke up the fire within.
The kiss broke for a second, both breathing heavily in the dim light. Yoichi looked down at her, hands framing her face with a gentleness that finally reached his eyes.
"Tsunade," he murmured, voice low and serious.
"Do you really want to do this? You've had a lot to drink."
She stared up, the haze of sake still present, but her gaze sharpened with a sudden, fierce clarity.
She pulled him closer by the collar, refusing to let him retreat. "I've never wanted anything more. Don't you dare use the alcohol as an excuse to pull away again."
"I love you, Tsunade," he whispered, the words finally breaking through his stoic shell. "I'm not pulling away."
"I love you too, Yoichi," she breathed, her voice cracking. "Just... stay. Be here with me."
The confession acted like a spark, devouring the last of his professional distance. Yoichi moved with a tenderness he hadn't shown before, his hands tracing the curves of her body.
He leaned down, his lips meeting hers again as they tangled together under the sheets.
The world outside the room ceased to exist, leaving only the heat rising between them in the dark.
________________
Do you want me to create a sex scene for this?
If yes, then I'm going to be rusty for this part, so lower these expectations. Expect me to butcher this thing so miserably.