These woods are familiar. The setting sun blazes through bright green leaves, and the forest floor is dappled with golden light. There's crickets chirping in a discordant chorus, and birds flitting about. Sasuke hasn't seen anything like it in years. There's so much life around him.
"Can I ask you more questions now?" Jiraiya asks from behind him, jolting him back to reality. He groans.
"No. We're taking a little break, remember?" he says, turning to face Jiraiya.
"That was three hours ago."
"And they've been the best three hours of my life."
"Aw, c'mon! You spent so much of my money!" Jiraiya whines, crossing his arms. "I've earned at least a couple questions."
"Fine." Sasuke rolls his eyes under his new mask.
"Sweet!" Jiraiya says cheerily. "Why are you headed to Konoha?"
"I… have some family there," Sasuke replies. Jiraiya whips out his notebook and scribbles something down.
"What's with the mask?"
"It's a fashion statement," Sasuke says drily.
"Are you a ninja?" Jiraiya asks him, and Sasuke pauses.
"No," Sasuke says, because he's really not. Not anymore. "Now let me ask you something. Why are you following me?"
"I told you, I'm a writer. You're intriguing," Jiraiya says with a shrug. "I need something interesting for my next novel."
"How did you even find me?"
"That's two questions," Jiraiya complains. "But if you must know, I've been hiking through the forests of Fire Country the past couple of years. I came upon you by chance."
"You spend all your time just wandering around? Why?" Sasuke asks, and Jiraiya looks down at the ground.
"Nowhere really feels like home anymore," he replies softly.
And there it is. It's a fleeting flash of pain in Jiraiya's eyes, a momentary hardness in the set of his jaw, but Sasuke recognizes the expression for what it is. It's a mix of longing and hurt, a combination of regret and grief.
Sasuke knows the stories; Orochimaru defected from Konoha, and Jiraiya had followed him to try and bring him back. It's not that different from what he had done to Naruto, Sasuke realizes with a pang.
This is what Naruto must have felt for years when he left, and that thought cuts him to the bone.
"I'm sorry," he says, and for once, Jiraiya is silent as he nods in acknowledgement. They resume jogging down the path like they were doing before, but it's quiet now. There are no questions or attempts at conversation from Jiraiya. And Sasuke kind of misses it.
It comes into view. The main gate of Konoha is a sight he'd thought he'd never see again. But there it is; tall and proud, light-green doors flung open. There's crowds of people moving in and out, and a handful of sharp-eyed Konoha ninja in flak jackets standing guard. And through the open gate, Sasuke can see it all.
He sees the urban sprawl of the village, interspersed with many large trees. In the distance rises Hokage Mountain. There's four faces carved into the rock, visible from even this distance. Nostalgia threatens to swamp him, and he stops walking for a moment.
"It's really something, isn't it?" Jiraiya says, grinning. "The largest hidden village in the world. I haven't been back here in years."
"Me neither," Sasuke mumbles. He's spent years on the run, always fighting and hiding and scraping by. There was no concept of 'home' in Kaguya's world. Now he's standing at the gate of a village where Itachi, his parents, Naruto-they're all alive. They're all safe and alive, and they're all here. And maybe 'home' isn't a concept that he's familiar with anymore, but—
This place feels like it could be home, eventually. All he has to do is save it.