The main gates of Konohagakure, usually quiet this early in the morning, were thronged with villagers today.
They had come in droves, buzzing with anticipation for the heroes who were finally coming home.
Word of the victories on the front lines had already swept through the village like wildfire. Everyone was riding the high of another triumph.
Konoha had won—again.
"They're back!"
The moment the first carriage appeared at the far end of the road, the crowd exploded. Cheers crashed like waves against the gates. Fireworks cracked overhead, and strings of firecrackers rattled along the roadside, set off by overzealous celebrants. A special team from the village scattered armloads of bright red petals into the air.
For a stretch of moments, the sky flashed with gunpowder, the ground was carpeted in crimson, and half the Hidden Leaf seemed submerged beneath a roaring sea of joy. Even the morning mist felt chased away by the noise.
Jiraiya, riding at the head of the column, stroked his chin with an exaggerated sigh. "Man, I was really hoping to slip back in before all this fuss."
Kakashi, walking just behind him, slid a lazy glance at the Sannin's barely concealed grin and decided not to call him out on the obvious lie.
"Kakashi, quit looking like a dead fish. You were brilliant out there." Jiraiya turned, slung a heavy arm around Kakashi's shoulders without asking, and yanked him forward so they stood side-by-side. "Come on, the two of us should take the spotlight together."
Kakashi didn't bother shaking him off. He just flicked his gaze toward the rest of the vanguard.
Besides Shibi Aburame, Might Guy, and Uchiha Shisui riding at the front, Hyūga Hizashi was there too—pale, bandaged, but alive. The man had barely survived Jiraiya's night raid on Kumogakure's main camp. He'd spent the entire trip back in the medical unit and had only just been cleared to walk. Compared to the fate he'd suffered in the original timeline—dying as a body double for his brother—Hizashi had gotten off absurdly lucky.
Behind them marched the 128 shinobi who had charged the enemy lines alongside Kakashi. Then came the bulk of Konoha's fighting force, and finally, trailing at the rear, a sorry column of bound and sealed Kumogakure prisoners—dirty, defeated, and thoroughly demoralized.
As the procession rolled closer to the gates, the villagers' joy washed over Kakashi like warm rain. For once, he let a sliver of it sink in.
The people of the Leaf only cared about results. It didn't matter if you were the White Fang's son or the Fourth Hokage's disciple—if you brought victory, you were a hero. Lose? Even the Hokage himself wouldn't be spared the gossip and scorn.
The moment they passed beneath the gate, the crowds thickened to near-crushing density. If the Uchiha Police Force hadn't been keeping order, there would've been a stampede.
Kakashi's eye drifted—perhaps deliberately—across the black-haired Uchiha maintaining the perimeter.
Come to think of it, he still owed their clan twenty million ryō.
Hopefully Fugaku wouldn't pick today to send a reminder.
The battlefield was behind him now, and with the tension gone, Kakashi's thoughts wandered freely. Debts, old and new, floated to the surface.
"That guy…"
From the rooftop of a nearby civilian house, a girl with long, slightly messy hair watched the silver-haired jōnin threading through the crowd. Her lips pursed.
Uchiha Hikari knew that vacant look instantly. After years of living under the same roof, she could tell—he was zoning out again.
As if feeling her stare, Kakashi blinked back to reality and glanced up. Their eyes met.
It had only been two months, but somehow it felt longer. Even Hikari—who he saw practically every day when he was home—looked… cuter than he remembered. The corner of his mouth lifted into a small, unguarded smile.
Why the hell is he grinning at me like an idiot?
Did he hit his head out there or something?
Hikari raised an eyebrow, gave a soft "hmph," and vanished in a flicker of Shunshin.
Watching her disappear, Kakashi's thoughts inevitably drifted to the other Uchiha walking a few paces behind him—Shisui.
Shisui's Kotoamatsukami could rewrite a person's will without them ever noticing. Hikari's unique technique, Eight Thousand Spears: Imprinted Tsukuyomi, carried a similar dominance.
If Hikari marked someone with Eight Thousand Spears first, then Shisui overwrote it with Kotoamatsukami… whose command would take priority?
Both were pure Yin Release genjutsu born from the Mangekyō Sharingan. In theory, it would come down to whose Yin Release was stronger.
And Kakashi had a suspicion whose would win.
Five hundred years ago, the Uchiha clan had poured obscene amounts of time and research into sealing that technique inside Hikari as a living weapon. If Eight Thousand Spears were merely on par with ordinary Mangekyō abilities, they never would have bothered.
So in a direct clash of Yin Release eye power, Hikari's technique would almost certainly crush Kotoamatsukami.
Meaning… the surest way to render Shisui's trump card useless might be to let Hikari hit you with Eight Thousand Spears first.
Kakashi's molars ached just thinking about it.
If he ever suggested the idea out loud, Hikari would happily volunteer to test it—on him—and probably slip in some embarrassing command while she was at it.
His eye narrowed slightly as a new, slightly wicked thought sparked.
By then, the procession had reached the Hokage Tower.
Third Hokage Hiruzen Sarutobi stood waiting at the top of the steps, flanked by department heads and clan elders. The roaring crowd quieted the moment they saw him.
"You've all done well," the old man said warmly, stepping forward to rest a hand on Jiraiya's shoulder.
"I didn't let you down, Sensei," Jiraiya replied, voice thick.
Hiruzen's gaze shifted to the younger man beside his student.
"Kakashi. Excellent work."
"It was a team effort, Lord Third," Kakashi answered evenly.
The Hokage gave a small, knowing smile—helpless and fond at the same time.
He was perfectly aware of what had happened on the battlefield. Kakashi's flooding strategy had been the decisive stroke, yet Jiraiya—trying to smooth things over—had claimed primary credit for it. Kakashi's own role had been quietly downplayed as a result.
Since Jiraiya had chosen to shoulder the spotlight, Hiruzen could hardly contradict him in public. He simply shot his wayward student a meaningful look and moved on.
Stepping past the two of them, the Third Hokage faced the sea of eager, exhausted, proud shinobi—and the thousands of civilians watching from every rooftop and window.
"People of Konoha!" His voice, amplified by chakra, rolled across the village like thunder.
"We are victorious!"
"We have crushed Kumogakure's arrogance!"
"Every soul who fought—whether they stand here today or gave their lives on foreign soil—will be honored. Konoha does not forget her heroes."
"And Kumogakure…" A hard edge entered the old man's eyes. "Kumogakure will pay dearly for this war."
The square erupted. Cheers crashed together so fiercely it felt like the very air might shatter.
Kakashi stood amid the storm of noise, watching red petals drift across the sky, and allowed himself—quietly, just for a moment—to feel that he had truly come home.
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