Hearing Tōma's answer, the tension around them eased a little.
Then Hyena suddenly tilted his head. "If they weren't wrong, and you weren't wrong… then whose fault was it?"
Tōma looked at him like he'd just asked something deeply unnecessary.What kind of question was that?
Still, the words nudged a half-remembered thought from another life. Something he'd once watched, long ago.
He gave a short, almost amused breath."Who knows," he said lightly. "Maybe the one that's wrong… is the world itself."
The words lingered.
Tenzo, Hyena, and Fox all froze for a second. They didn't quite understand what he meant, but somehow it felt heavier than it sounded.
Tōma, on the other hand, found it faintly ridiculous. He couldn't quite smile yet, but the tightness in his chest finally loosened a little.
Behind them lay a mountain of bodies. In front of them stood a boy who no longer felt like a twelve-year-old.From that moment on, the three of them stopped thinking of Inkshadow as a child and started seeing him as an equal.
"Go rest," Tenzo said. "I'll handle the cleanup."
"By yourself?" Tōma asked. "There are a lot of bodies."
Hyena chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. Captain's abilities are perfect for this kind of work."
Tōma watched as Tenzo formed seals and pressed his palms to the ground.
The earth stirred.
Trees erupted from below, roots twisting and spreading, quickly swallowing the corpses and sealing them beneath the soil. The battlefield vanished as if it had never existed.
"So that's what you meant," Tōma muttered. "Impressive."
Hyena grinned. "Told you."
Tōma's gaze lingered on Tenzo for a moment longer.Wood Release… terrifyingly practical.If they ever fought for real, he'd only get one chance. And that would be before the other man realized what he was facing.
"All right," Tenzo said once he finished. "We're heading back."
That night, Tōma tried to take watch again.
All three of them refused him at once.
So, reluctantly, he lay down to rest.
"Are you really okay?" Tenzo asked quietly beside him. "I should've been more careful."
"Okay? No," Tōma said after a pause. "That would be a lie. But I'll be fine. I'll sort it out before the next mission."
Even with a lifetime of memories, killing wasn't something anyone walked away from untouched.If he felt nothing at all, that would've scared him more.
Tenzo said nothing for a long moment, then sighed. "Get some sleep."
"…Yeah."
Fox didn't say a word, but inside, he felt oddly pleased.
They might have gained a genuinely solid teammate.
The next morning, Tōma woke last.
That alone told him something was wrong.
His head felt heavy. Dreams had chased him all night, sharp and unpleasant.
"Still early," Tenzo said when he noticed. "You can rest more."
"No," Tōma replied. "Let's go back to the village."
Tenzo nodded. "First mission nightmares are normal. Being home will help."
He handed Tōma a simple bowl of porridge.
Tōma blinked, then understood. With Wood Release, things like bowls weren't exactly hard to come by.
After breakfast, they picked up the pace and returned to Konoha.
That evening, Tōma stood alone in his empty house.
His mother would still be at work.
She'd been worried. Of course she had.But this was the path he'd chosen. There was no avoiding it.
He thought of Fujimoto Sana's panic when her pay had suddenly increased. How she'd insisted it must be a mistake. How he'd explained it away as the Hokage's arrangement. How she'd finally accepted it, convinced it made sense because it involved her son.
That thought made him smile.
I should give her more reasons to brag.
Tōma lay down on his bed.
This time, he slept deeply. No nightmares. No blood.
When evening came, the door opened.
Sana stepped inside, exhaustion written across her face, worry clinging to her shoulders.
Then she saw him.
All of it vanished.
Her eyes lit up as if someone had turned on the sun.
"Mom," Tōma said, smiling softly. "Welcome home."
She crossed the room and pulled him into a tight embrace."…Welcome home, my son."