Temari looked at Mei Terumī: "You cannot kill him."
Mei Terumī smiled, a cold smile: "And you cannot keep him either."
The two fell silent again.
Mei Terumī's blade tilted slightly at an angle.
"He said he would go to Hidden Mist. He will kneel before me and explain everything from those years, piece by piece. Then, whatever I decide to do with him, it will be up to me."
Temari's eyes narrowed. "He is lying to you. You just said he deceived you for fifteen years; have you not been deceived enough by now?"
Mei Terumī's hand tightened. It was only for a moment, but Nobunaga saw it.
"Whether he is lying or not," Mei Terumī's voice was calm, "that is between us. It has nothing to do with you."
"Nothing to do with me?" Temari smiled, a cold smile, "He is my teacher."
"He is my—"
Mei Terumī did not finish.
She could not bring herself to say it.
What was he? A companion? A husband? An enemy?
Or the person she had hated for fifteen years, chased for fifteen years, yet could never bring herself to strike?
Temari looked at her. Light glinted in those white eyes.
"You cannot bring yourself to kill him."
Mei Terumī did not speak.
"You have chased him for so long, and you have had countless opportunities to kill him.
You did not."
Temari's voice was very soft. As a ruler from another world, she had seen too much of human nature:
"You do not want to kill him. You want to keep him."
Mei Terumī's eyes narrowed.
"You are just like me," Temari said, "neither of us can keep him."
Nobunaga stood there, watching these two women.
Moonlight fell upon them, casting their shadows long and stretched upon the ground.
He suddenly felt that he owed so many people.
Mei Terumī, Temari, and those who had died in the other world.
He owed them too much, so much that he did not know how to repay it.
At this moment, he needed to step forward.
Nobunaga took a deep breath: "I am not going anywhere."
Both of them turned their heads simultaneously.
Nobunaga looked at them.
"I am not going anywhere."
He said it again: "The matter in Konoha is not over yet. The Sandaime is still fighting Orochimaru, and Naruto and the others are still dealing with Shukaku. I cannot leave."
He looked at Temari: "Your brother is still over there."
Temari's eyelashes fluttered.
He looked at Mei Terumī: "As for the matter in Hidden Mist, I will go. But not now. When the matter in Konoha is over, I will go to Hidden Mist, kneel before you, and explain everything from those years, piece by piece."
He paused, "Then, whatever you decide to do with me, it will be up to you."
Mei Terumī looked at him for a long time.
There was too much in those emerald eyes: hatred, love, reluctance, and a kind of indescribable exhaustion.
"You say that every time."
Nobunaga did not speak.
Mei Terumī closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, her blade was already back in its sheath.
"One year."
Nobunaga looked at her.
"One year from now, you come to Hidden Mist. If you don't—"
Her voice was very cold: "I will turn Konoha upside down. By then, either you return to Hidden Mist Village, or I will die in Konoha."
She turned and walked into the night.
After two steps, she stopped without looking back.
"Little girl."
Temari looked at her.
"If he loses even a single hair, I don't care who you are, I will not let you off."
She continued walking forward, and the sound of her footsteps gradually faded away.
Nobunaga stood where he was, watching that silhouette disappear into the night.
Temari also looked in that direction, motionless for a long time. Then she turned her head to look at Nobunaga.
In those white eyes, that quiet, burning fire was still there, but something underneath had shattered.
"Teacher," her voice was very soft, "you have really changed."
Nobunaga looked at her: "You have changed too."
Temari smiled, a short, faint smile.
"Yes, we have both changed."
Nobunaga nodded, then shook his head: "But one thing has not changed. I am very worried about you all, you... at least you are very worried about me."
Temari was slightly taken aback; the previously dominant sense of control belonging to a ruler was slightly suppressed by tenderness.
She took a step forward, reached out, and placed her hand on Nobunaga's head, very lightly.
"Do you know, in that world, I waited for you for a long time.
I waited until my hair turned white, until I could no longer walk, until the day I closed my eyes.
The last thing I thought was—Teacher, will you come to pick me up?"
Nobunaga's tears fell.
Temari looked at his tears and smiled.
"You still cry. Just like before."
She withdrew her hand, turned, and walked in the other direction.
"Teacher, I am leaving. Take care. Next time we meet, I should be the Fifth Generation Kazekage."
After two steps, she stopped.
"Teacher, one year later, I will go with you to Hidden Mist Village."
"Huh? Are you not afraid of trouble?"
"That Mizukage, she cannot bring herself to strike. Not because of hatred, but because of love." She continued walking forward, her footsteps growing more distant.
Nobunaga stood there, watching that silhouette disappear into the moonlight.
He was the only one left in the wilderness; the wind blew, and it was very cold.
He squatted down, supporting himself with his hands on the ground, gasping for air.
He recalled Temari's last words, the "three months" Mei Terumī mentioned when she left, and Karin.
No, the Karin that Mei Terumī impersonated, when she treated his wounds, her hands were very gentle.
She did not take the opportunity to kill him, nor did she take the opportunity to capture him.
She only healed his wounds, and then stood in front of him.
Nobunaga squatted there, motionless for a long time.
Then he stood up and walked toward Konoha.
He did not walk fast, and every step was heavy.
Moonlight shone on him, stretching his shadow long.
He walked all night, and when dawn broke, he finally saw the outline of Konoha.
The Village was still smoking; the roar of Shukaku had stopped, and the Four Violet Flames Formation had dissipated.
The battle was over.
He walked into the Village, past the collapsed houses, past the wounded soldiers lying on stretchers.
He walked to the front of the Hokage Building and stopped.
The building was still standing; some windows were shattered, and there were cracks on the walls, but the building remained.
He stood at the entrance for a long time.
Then he pushed the door open and walked in. The hallway was long, the lights were dim, and he walked very slowly.
Every step landed on the familiar floorboards, emitting a dull echo.
He walked to the office door and pushed it open.
The Third Hokage was lying on the bed, wrapped in bandages, his complexion very poor.
Jiraiya was sitting nearby, and when he saw Nobunaga enter, he was stunned for a moment.
"You are back? That Mizukage—"
"She left," Nobunaga said.
Jiraiya did not ask any further.
He stood up and patted Nobunaga's shoulder.
"It is good that you are back."
Nobunaga walked to the bedside and looked at the Third Hokage.
He had his eyes closed, his breathing was weak, but he was still alive. It was good that he was alive.
Nobunaga sat down by the bed, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes.
His mind was in chaos.
Mei Terumī, Temari, the Third Hokage, Naruto, Shukaku.
And one year.
He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled.
One year, that is enough. Enough.
Nobunaga leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
The wall was very cold, seeping through his clothes, chilly.
His body had long since reached its limit.
The sequelae of the Mangekyo, the overdraft of Chakra, and the exhaustion from being tossed back and forth by Mei Terumī and Temari—it all surged up at this moment, drowning him like a tide.
He wanted to hold on for a while, to wait for Jiraiya to leave before sleeping, to wait for the Third Hokage's condition to stabilize before sleeping, to wait until he confirmed Naruto and the others were safe before sleeping.
But his eyelids were too heavy, as heavy as if they were filled with lead.