Two days later
The village felt different.
The usual sounds of morning, filled with vendors calling out, children laughing, and shinobi leaping across rooftops, were absent.
A suffocating silence hung over Konoha, pressing down on every street like an invisible weight.
Above, the sky was dark and swollen with thick clouds, as if even the heavens refused to shine on this day.
Naruto stepped out of his house, the door closing softly behind him. He was dressed in simple and unadorned black clothes. The fabric felt heavier than normal against his skin, though he knew it wasn't the clothes, but the meaning behind them.
Waiting outside the house were Sasuke and Sakura.
Sasuke stood with his hands in his pockets, his posture rigid, eyes lowered beneath his bangs. The black clothes only sharpened the seriousness etched into his face.
Sakura stood beside him, hands clasped in front of her, her expression subdued, green eyes dulled by grief.
For a moment, none of them spoke.
Naruto met their gazes and gave a small nod, a quiet acknowledgment.
A second later, the door opened again.
Kushina stepped out, also dressed in black. Her fiery presence felt muted today, like embers buried beneath ash. She walked toward the three children, offering them a gentle smile that carried sadness rather than warmth.
"Good morning," She said softly.
Sakura straightened immediately. "Good morning, Aunt Kushina."
Sasuke gave a brief nod. "Good morning, Auntie."
Kushina's eyes lingered on them for a moment longer than usual.
'They're still just kids…' She thought, her eyes full of sadness. 'And yet they've already seen so much loss.'
"Let's go," Naruto said quietly, and they began walking.
The streets were almost empty, and the doors were shut, with curtains drawn.
The few villagers who passed them moved slowly, heads bowed, black clothing blending into the gray of the morning. A chilly wind swept through the streets, carrying with it the faint scent of rain and incense.
Naruto shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked.
The Third Hokage's wrinkled smile, his pipe, the way he'd always looked at Naruto, all resurfaced without warning.
Sakura glanced at Naruto from the corner of her eye. He looked calmer than she expected, but she knew better. Naruto always hid his pain behind silence when it cut too deep.
Sasuke noticed it too.
"Tch…" He muttered under his breath, barely audible. "He didn't deserve to die like that."
"No… he didn't." Naruto didn't answer right away, and quietly. He had lowered his head, hiding the emotions in his eyes.
They continued walking until the Hokage building came into view.
The structure loomed tall and solemn, stripped of its usual authority and pride. Shinobi stood guard at the entrance, their expressions grave.
No one spoke as Naruto and the others climbed the stairs to the rooftop.
At the top, the air felt heavy, thick with grief, respect, and unspoken sorrow.
All the highest-ranking members of the village were already present.
At the center stood a long table.
Upon it rested the framed portrait of the Third Hokage, Hiruzen Sarutobi. The old man's gentle eyes gazed forward, frozen in time, surrounded by carefully arranged flowers. White petals, lilies, and chrysanthemums filled the air with a soft, bittersweet fragrance.
On either side of his portrait were other frames, filled with faces of ninjas.
They belonged to shinobi who would never return, who had fallen during the invasion, sacrificing their lives to protect Konoha.
Naruto looked at the pictures, and the side of his lips twitched slightly.
'So many…'
He followed Sasuke and Sakura toward their classmates, but no one spoke loudly.
Even Kiba, who was usually restless, stood still.
Shikamaru stared at the ground, hands in his pockets, jaw clenched.
Ino's eyes were red, though she tried to hide them.
Kushina moved away from them, stepping toward the gathered jōnin. She took her place beside Mikoto, who stood quietly with her hands folded. The two women exchanged a brief glance, as no words were needed.
As the funeral began, the village seemed to hold its breath.
A soft drizzle started to fall.
The raindrops tapped gently against the rooftop, slow and steady, as if the sky itself had decided to mourn alongside them. The clouds darkened further, and a cold mist crept through the air.
Naruto looked up briefly, letting a raindrop land on his cheek.
'Figures… even the sky's crying today...'
The ceremony continued in silence, only the sound of rain and the quiet breathing of those gathered.
Naruto's gaze returned to the Third Hokage's portrait.
'You have done your job… now, leave everything to the youngsters... I will take care of the village.'
Sakura clasped her hands tighter, blinking rapidly.
Sasuke closed his eyes for a moment, jaw clenched, a single thought repeating in his mind.
'Strength… this is the price of weakness.'
The rain fell softly on the ground.
And beneath the darkened sky, the village of Konoha stood united in grief, honoring those who had given everything so it could endure.
------
In another part of the village, far from the gathered crowds and solemn ceremony, Kakashi Hatake stood alone before him rose the Memorial Stone.
Its kunai-shaped structure pierced the gray sky like a silent accusation, its polished surface etched with countless names consisting of shinobi who had died in service to the village.
Kakashi had been standing there since morning.
The rain slid down his black outfit, soaking the fabric until it clung to him, but he made no move to shelter himself. His visible eye was fixed on the stone, unmoving, unreadable, yet heavy with memories.
'So many names… And still, it keeps growing.'
The rain pattered softly against the ground, filling the silence with a steady rhythm until it was broken by a series of footsteps.
The footsteps were soft, careful, and hesitant.
Kakashi didn't turn as he asked quietly. "Are those flowers for Hayate?"
Behind him, Yūgao Uzuki stopped. She hadn't expected him to speak first.
"Yes," She replied softly after a moment. Her fingers tightened slightly around the bouquet she held. She stepped closer, standing beside him, though leaving enough space to respect the solitude he seemed to carry so naturally.
"The funeral service for Lord Third Hokage has already started," She continued gently. "You should hurry… Kakashi."
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then Kakashi took a step back, silently making room. The gesture was small, but deliberate.
Yūgao walked forward and knelt, carefully placing the flowers at the base of the monument. Her hand lingered for a heartbeat longer than necessary.
She stood and brushed her damp bangs aside.
As Kakashi turned slightly, preparing to leave, her voice stopped him.
"Kakashi…" She hesitated, then spoke more plainly. "You're here to pay respect to Obito, aren't you?"
The rain softened, but didn't stop.
"Instead of constantly inventing new excuses for coming late," She added, not unkindly, "why don't you come here early?"
Kakashi paused, but he didn't turn around.
"I did," He replied softly. "First thing in the morning."
His voice lowered, roughened with something heavier.
"It's just that once I get here…" A quiet breath escaped him. "…I can't stop thinking about what an idiot I used to be."
Yūgao's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't press further.
Instead, she offered a faint, bittersweet smile.
"You're still an idiot," She said lightly. "Just… a little kinder now."
The rain eased further, thinning into scattered drops.
Neither of them spoke again.
Unbeknownst to the two, a short distance away, Jiraiya sat atop a wooden plank beneath the eaves of a nearby structure. His arms rested loosely on his knees, his long white hair damp and heavy against his shoulders.
He watched them with a faint, sad smile.
'Kids carrying ghosts heavier than their own bodies…' He thought.
As his gaze drifted from Kakashi to the stone itself, memories surfaced uninvited.
Hiruzen's stern lectures and Tsunade's sharp tongue and sharper fists alongside Orochimaru's unsettling brilliance.
Their days of training, laughing, fighting, and dreaming together.
'A lifetime ago,' Jiraiya mused.
The rain finally stopped.
Small puddles shimmered on the ground, reflecting the gray sky above and the names carved into stone.
Jiraiya exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. "…You really were something else, sensei."
The village remained quiet.
--- ✦ ✦ ✦ ---
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