At the gates of Konoha.
The village had posted a notice in advance—bodies and wounded were being returned from the Land of Grass. A crowd had gathered by the gate, waiting in solemn silence.
Senju Rinju stood at the front, vacant-eyed. His arms hung limp at his sides, shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world pressed down on them.
The current head of the Senju clan, and son of Hashirama Senju, had none of his old fire left in him—only the hollow grief of a father mourning his child.
The convoy approached, slow and heavy.
One by one, body bags were claimed by waiting families.
Some wept.Some stood numb.Some immediately asked the attending shinobi how much the compensation would be.
The final body bag… held Senju Nawaki.
To Rinju, the crowd's murmurs were distant, drowned out by the ringing in his ears. He dragged his stiff legs forward, each step like hauling stone.
He still couldn't believe Nawaki was truly gone.
A once-in-a-generation talent—gone.A child trained by none other than Orochimaru himself—gone.The spark of the Senju's resurgence—snuffed out in an instant.
In that moment, Rinju felt the urge to simply let it all go.
If the village elders wanted half the Senju land, let them take it.If they wanted the Nine-Tails Jinchūriki, let them seal it however they liked—what did it matter anymore?If they demanded the sealing scrolls of the Senju and Uzumaki, let them have those too.
Seeing Rinju's body swaying unsteadily, Princess Kushina whispered softly beside him.
"Uncle..."
Rinju shook his head, forcing the weak thoughts from his mind.
He couldn't give up.He wouldn't be the one to let the thousand-year legacy of the Senju crumble into dust.
Death?
His father founded Konoha with blood and fire. Could today's deaths possibly compare to those at the end of the Warring States Era?
Nawaki died at twelve. His two uncles had died even younger.
The Senju… do not fear death.
From the side, Yako stood with his nostrils clamped shut.
The corpses had been treated with preservative agents, but the smell of death still clung to the air, thick and foul.
But what was unbearable to Yako… was precious to Rinju.
Rinju unzipped the body bag and looked upon Nawaki's pale face.
He reached out and gently stroked the boy's cold cheek. His own face, usually firm and resolute, twisted with silent tremors—until he finally bowed his head.
The Senju took Nawaki's body, along with those of the other fallen clan members.
Their family… had given too much to Konoha.
Elsewhere, the wife of Captain Black Ape—whom Yako had seen before in the hospital—came to collect him.
Captain Black Ape had removed his mask. Now, he was just a broken man: a shinobi without arms, with sunken cheeks and a haunted expression.
He didn't even look like a member of the Akimichi Clan anymore.
Yako returned to the ANBU headquarters to file his mission report, then stopped by the Foundation to submit a personnel request for replacements.
Finally, he left ANBU behind.
He headed back to the familiar walls of the Tsurugetsu Tavern.And as he stepped inside, a breath escaped him.'I'm home... at last.'
Somehow, this place had become the only corner of the world where he could breathe freely.
"Kyoi, anyone suspicious come poking around lately?"
"Nope. Haven't seen anyone."
Yako had made sure to monitor any missions related to Kyoi while in ANBU. Those mission scrolls had been archived. For now, there'd be no more secret probes into her identity.
"I pulled strings upstairs for you, you know. Cleaned up quite the mess. Shouldn't I get some gratitude?"
"Oh? And how exactly should I thank you?"
"Yin Release and Yang Release are getting boring. Got anything new to try?"
Kyoi bit down on her silver teeth and leaned in close."You were gone a long time. Did you try anything new with that little fox of yours and come crawling back to relive the highlights?"
"Please, I've just leveled up. I need more intensity now."
Kyoi rolled her eyes and muttered, "Then how about we try a little secret jutsu from Iwagakure kunoichi..."
"Oh? What kind of secret technique?"
"You ever heard of the Mountain Soil Technique?"
"I think so. Isn't that the Earth Style technique where a massive dome of earth crushes enemies into paste? What is it now, Ball Release after Yin and Yang?"
They were already lying in bed when Kyoi slowly disappeared under the sheets… unleashing her very own Ball Release: Mountain Soil Technique.
After their midnight madness, Kyoi lay sprawled across Yako's chest.
Suddenly, her expression turned tense.
"It's coming again!"
"...What is?"
Before he could finish, Yako sensed it too—a chill, seeping chakra flooding into the room.
He snapped on his pants, flickered to the window with the Body Flicker Technique, and landed on the rooftop.
From the direction of the Senju compound, waves of ominous chakra flowed through the streets of Konoha.
Every bird and insect fell silent.
'...Uzumaki Mito. She must be close to her limit.'
Yako dropped from the rooftop and slipped into the rear side room.
"Did this happen while I was gone?"
"Mm-hmm. Especially these past two weeks. Almost every night."
"Trouble's brewing again, huh. Tch. Never mind that... I still have a few questions about that Mountain Soil Technique."
And so, in the shadow of death's chill… the new year arrived.
Yako celebrated his birthday.
Aside from Kyoi, there was no one else to celebrate with.
New Year's in this world… was lonelier than the one in his past life.
A few days after the holiday, Yako walked into the Akimichi compound with two jin of braised beef in hand.
He didn't know where Captain Black Ape lived. Didn't even know his real name.
But he figured… it shouldn't be too hard to find someone with both arms missing.
Sure enough, he soon spotted three old aunties gossiping at a street corner.
'Akimichi intel hub, no doubt.'
He walked up and asked,"Excuse me, is there a retired shinobi in your clan who lost both arms?"
"Do you mean one who lost his left arm first, or right arm first?"
Yako blinked.Wait, what?You're telling me there's more than one?
"Left first, right second. Just returned to the compound."
Another auntie chimed in,"Do you mean one whose left arm has been gone longer, or one whose right arm has been gone longer?"
'Damn... there's that many?'
Well… the Akimichi are taijutsu types. It kinda made sense.
Yako pressed on."Right side's been gone longer."
"Then are you looking for a tall one, or a short one?"
"...Tall. Tall and dark-skinned."
Finally, they pointed him in the right direction.
Yako walked away with a bitter smile tugging at his lips.
He'd only asked for directions…and gotten a glimpse into the sheer cruelty of war.
Inside the Akimichi compound, there really were a lot of shinobi with missing limbs.
But they had a clan to fall back on.Even if disabled, they'd at least get enough support to survive.
Ordinary civilians, though?
They didn't make it long after crippling injuries.
It wasn't that civilian shinobi lost limbs less often—they just didn't live long enough to become statistics.
Survivor bias.
Eventually, Yako reached a small courtyard where someone appeared to be moving out.
A skinny man with both arms gone sat hunched by the doorway, his face locked in a grimace.
"Big bro," Yako called out gently,"I came to see you."