At the entrance of the orphanage, Reiji sat on the steps, the white-haired old woman standing quietly beside him.
"Excuse me, are you Reiji-san?" Her voice was aged but full of warmth.
"Just Reiji is fine. I don't deserve the title 'Reiji-san.' I'm Reiji Sakuhō."
"A good child," she nodded gently. "Meiko and the others talk about you all the time. They say if it weren't for you, they wouldn't be here."
Reiji smiled and shook his head. "That's not true. They would've survived—just with a bit more struggle."
"Well, still... thank you for saving them." The old woman leaned on her cane and carefully sat down beside him.
Reiji shook his head again.
"It was just something I wanted to do."
"That's good. It's a fine thing to do something because your heart tells you to."
They chatted for a bit, and Reiji learned that the elderly woman was the director of the orphanage. The children here all called her Grandma Mai.
Her husband had once been a jōnin from a subordinate clan of the Senju, but died during the war. Her two children were separated from her in the chaos of the Warring States era.
Devastated, she prayed that someone kind would find and raise them.
Later, when the Konoha Orphanage was established, Grandma Mai, a woman of good character and background, applied to become its director.
As they spoke, Grandma Mai slowly turned her head to look at Reiji.
"Reiji, I heard from Meiko that you and Rie-chan are orphans too?"
"Strictly speaking, not quite. We still have each other." Reiji glanced gently toward Rie in the distance, a soft smile forming at the corner of his lips.
Grandma Mai blinked in surprise, then broke into a radiant smile.
What a remarkable child!
She never would have expected such hopeful words from someone who'd lost his family. It warmed her heart.
"May I ask, how have you been raising Rie-chan all this time?"
"I forge metal," Reiji said with a small smile. A kunai shot out from the ninja pouch at his waist.
"Watch—Magnet Release."
The kunai danced smoothly in his hand, darting through the air like a swift little swallow.
"I'm not sure if it counts as a Kekkei Genkai, but it's pretty handy for blacksmithing."
As he finished, he caught a brief flicker of disappointment cross Grandma Mai's face and sighed silently.
He had already guessed her thoughts the moment she asked the question—her hopeful eyes had given her away.
She likely wanted him to teach the children a skill, something they could use to build a better future.
If Reiji were just an ordinary Konoha villager, he wouldn't have hesitated.
But he wasn't. He was an undercover agent. And on the surface, being an undercover agent was like being a pawn that had crossed the river on a chessboard.
No turning back, only slow, cautious steps forward. Always under watch, always constrained.
So all he could do was carefully reveal bits of himself—just enough to seem harmless, just enough to be useful.
To show kindness—especially toward orphans—and to win hearts?
That was a death sentence.
Watching Rie playing joyfully with the others, a bold idea began to take shape in his mind.
Rie was only four.
No one would ever suspect a four-year-old. No matter how cautious, no adult would be on guard around a chubby, cheerful little kid.
As the thought settled in, a subtle smile curled on Reiji's lips.
"Grandma Mai, it's getting late. I should head back."
He stood up and bowed respectfully. Under her complicated gaze, he walked over to Rie, took her hand, and helped her say goodbye to her friends.
...
As they walked home under the glow of the setting sun, Rie's mood was clearly low.
"What's wrong?"
As soon as he spoke, Reiji felt her small hand stiffen, gripping his more tightly.
"Not even something you can tell your big brother?" he asked.
Rie immediately looked up, her little head shaking back and forth.
"No, it's not that... it's just…"
Seeing Reiji's quiet, encouraging expression, the little girl lowered her head and began to mumble.
"It's just... Rie feels so useless. All I ever do is use your things to help my friends, but I don't have anything of my own…"
Her usually bright voice fell to a whisper. The golden sunlight cast deep shadows across her small face.
Reiji's heart stirred—and he smiled quietly, full of emotion.
This kid really turned out alright! All those small beatings every three days and big ones every five weren't in vain. Rie's mom, you can rest easy now!
"Ahem." Reiji cleared his throat, doing his best to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he put on a mock-serious, parental tone.
"What are you saying, kid? No need to be so formal with your brother!
You're still little, but when you grow up, I'm counting on you to take care of your old brother!"
Rie nodded earnestly, looking at Reiji with solemn determination.
"Don't worry, Brother! When I grow up, I'll give you all the money I earn and take you out for barbecue every single day!"
Pfft!
This kid's way too honest!
Reiji pinched his nose, struggling not to laugh, and nodded seriously.
"It's a deal then."
Inside, though, he was over the moon. Rie's mom, you heard that, right? She said it herself—I didn't force her! So if I blow her money in the red light district later, don't come blaming me!
With that thought, Reiji asked again,
"So, Rie, what was it you wanted to tell me just now?"
Now that the weight was off her chest, Rie's sunny smile returned. She tugged at Reiji's hand and started chattering excitedly.
"Brother, I want to help Meiko and the others!"
"Oh? What's wrong with them? Not getting enough to eat? Sleeping badly?"
"No, it's not that. They've got enough food. It's just that the other kids at the orphanage stick together too much, and since Meiko and the others came later, they keep getting picked on."
Reiji's head started to ache.
This kind of thing wasn't unique to Konoha or even the shinobi world—it happened all the time, even in his past life.
Humans just had this inborn tendency to bully those they saw as different or weaker. It was a fact that couldn't be changed.
If even adults couldn't help it, how could children, whose minds were still developing, be expected to?
And really, it wasn't fair to blame Grandma Mai. She was doing a great job just keeping all those kids from tearing each other apart.
Reiji glanced at Rie, who was looking up at him with big, hopeful eyes.
"Rie, do you want to stop all the bullying at the orphanage?"
Rie shook her head, her voice clear and firm.
"No, I just want Meiko and Big Guy to stop getting picked on.
After all, the way I help my friends—I learned it from you, Brother. I don't want to cause you any more trouble."
Reiji felt a wave of warmth in his chest.
Rie, you really are such a good kid.
If only you were this well-behaved and focused when you're learning arithmetic!
The thought sparked something in him. That bold idea from before returned.
"Rie, you're a big girl now—you've got to come up with your own ways to help your friends.
Here's the deal: for every idea you come up with that I approve of, I'll give you a thousand ryō. You can spend it however you want."
As soon as she heard the word "money," Rie's eyes lit up like twin lanterns, her love for treasure instantly kicking in.
"Brother! It's a promise!" she beamed, holding out her chubby little pinky.
Reiji smiled and hooked his pinky around hers. "Deal."
...
On the way home, the little girl started chattering away again, muttering to herself non-stop.
As the sky darkened, the last rays of sunset faded beyond the treetops.
Lanterns in every color lit up the streets.
Huh?
What's going on today?
There seemed to be a lot more lanterns than usual!
Reiji casually grabbed a cheerful-looking woman and asked in a childlike voice,
"Auntie, what's going on today? Why are there so many pretty lanterns?"
The woman showed no sign of annoyance, her face glowing with joy.
"The war is over! We drove back Kumogakure! We won!"
A middle-aged man nearby joined in, his voice brimming with excitement.
"That's right, we won! Just now, Tobirama-sama announced the war's end. It's finally over! My child's coming home!"
Beside him, a beautiful young woman wiped happy tears from her eyes.
"My husband's finally coming back!"
Reiji let go of the woman's hand and looked at the crowd, full of celebration and joy, a complicated emotion swirling in his chest.
The families of the survivors had poured into the streets to celebrate, while those who had lost loved ones could only grieve alone in the dark. But still—at long last—the war was over.
...
Back home, Reiji sat on the porch, gazing up at the bright moonlight, his eyes flickering with unreadable thoughts.
The war... is over.
Next... does that mean it's time for Tobirama Senju to die?
Honestly, Reiji never understood it.
Tobirama Senju—master of the Flying Thunder God Technique, a man who could attack, retreat, escape, and harass with ease. How could someone like him be taken out so easily by the Gold and Silver Brothers?
Even if they had absorbed Nine-Tails chakra, even if they were sages, it still shouldn't have been enough to kill Tobirama at the peak of his strength.
After all, this was the man whose every jutsu aside from Water Release was practically a Kinjutsu!
To be fair, Reiji had complicated feelings toward Tobirama Senju.
On one hand, he was waiting—waiting for this man, unmatched in both strength and intellect, to die so he could put his own plans into motion.
On the other hand, it felt like such a waste. Someone like Tobirama was a stabilizing force, like a pillar anchoring a storm-tossed sea.
Though they'd only met maybe three times, Reiji had always admired the Second Hokage.
Conquering a nation was easy. Governing it was another matter.
And with a brother like Hashirama Senju—peerless in strength and renown—it was even harder.
To take the reins after that, with less power and less fame... Reiji could only imagine how difficult it had been for Tobirama to rule.