Kazahi had spent many long years fighting in the Third Great Ninja War, and in turn growing up as a shinobi. After the chunin exams, Kazahi and his team were swallowed by wearisome, unending nights on the battleground. He learned to sleep with one eye open. His hands were hardened by the kunai that never left his side. His newfound, pristine green flak jacket was dyed dark red by the blood of enemy ninja in the blink of an eye. His hair grew longer, and his body taller, his limbs and muscles filling out, but his view in life only shrunk with the constant warfare.

Names became unnecessary; only the ones he knew beforehand remained. Battles and skirmishes flooded his memory. Bodies of Iwa and Suna nin draped the battlefield. His surroundings changed from grass to stone to sand back to grass and home and trees and then to cold and empty sand and stone.

It never mattered to him what life the enemy lived. He was a tool for his village. He was faithful, and being faithful meant being obedient. He survived because he still needed to serve his home dutifully.

His teammates rarely left his side when they weren't in the village.

Awai was eager to please, but the recent hole in her heart, though it was surrounded by arrogance, was filled with the subtle fear of war. She aimed to stake her mark, she'd repeat. Kazahi knew otherwise, the piercing red-spun vision tracking their little squad's every move.

Setsumi was similar to himself. She followed her orders because that was what she was best at. Always stationed at the back of the line, she grew a hesitancy when people would draw up behind her. During their few team dinners in the village, she'd always keep her back flat against the restaurant's wall.

This was their dance. Their sensei would sometimes join them in battle. More oftentimes he was requested to be involved in another fight. As chunin—no longer young genin—they were expected to be on their own. Their time being coddled was far in the past. Not even a few months into the war, and Kazahi had already forgotten what being scolded like a child was like.

As for Yuuji and Shiki, their own team had been shattered.

Some days after the end of their exams, the genin-turned-chunin had gathered at the gates of the village. Kazahi and Setsumi watched Akari-sensei and her two students with carefully, anxious of their reactions. Awai was still out of touch with reality, not yet at terms with her own grief.

The sound of footsteps neared, and the leftovers from the frontlines platoon returned to Konoha. There was no Suguru Uchiha. There was no Nori Akimichi of Squad 2 either.

Kazahi remembered hearing Yuuji choke. Akari had held her two students and pup close. Takehiro-sensei, who had also been on the platoon, stumbled through the gates. Missing a leg, he was supported by his only student left. Takehiro avoided looking at Akari through the entire reunion.

That moment engrained itself in Kazahi. Awai's small hope that her father was still alive was crushed. War had taken Yuuji and Shiki's teammate, and Takehiro's sensei's leg and future as a shinobi. The lone chunin of Takehiro's squad had been shaken up, scarred of the life of a ninja.

A year passed, and another, and then there were more battles and skirmishes and blood and more fallen comrades whose names were etched in stone. Kazahi's vision turned hazy, the colors of life dripping from green to gray. Water washed away puddles of blood on the battlefields he reigned. He sensed corpses fall into his leftover puddles, and heard cheers and cries and felt hugs but nothing sparked his chapped fingers or cold arms. Life with his friends became eclipsed by order after order, the dependent necessity to take out any body not fastened with a leaf-inscribed headband. It continued and continued on bareboned fields and hills of corpses where no one trusted anyone, never, never ending.

Until one day, it all stopped.

"It's... over?"

"Yeah. They signed an agreement—Konoha and Iwa. Something about a ceasefire, I guess. So, no more war. It's done."

Kazahi stared bluntly at his friend. He stopped sharpening the kunai in his hands. Awai did the same.

"Just like that? That's it?"

"That's it." Awai tucked the rest of her pile of kunai into her pouch and stood in the barren living room of her family. She tied her headband back around her head. "You should get ready. They're gonna hold a funeral for the fallen soon."

The kunai in Kazahi's hand felt useless all of a sudden. Something akin to anger started to bubble in his stomach, but he couldn't decide whether he was disgusted at the metallic weapon or something else.

Awai opened her front door which led out into the rest of the Uchiha compound. Her hair had grown out a bit past her shoulders, messy and unkempt as ever, but her eyelashes now lined her eyes in a way that extenuated her lethal beauty. The sickly pallor of her skin clashed with the small and hardened black band covering her nose, and her Uchiha-styled clothes were covered by her unorthodox gray jonin vest.

She looked over her shoulder at her teammate, sporting an amiable smile. The skin around her ruddy black eyes crinkled. "Come one, Kazahi. I'm going to leave you behind if you don't get a move on! Setsumi's probably waiting for us already."

Kazahi fiddled with his kunai before stuffing it away. He grabbed his vest and headband, not caring to cover his haphazard hair or blue-toned t-shirt and sweats. The fifteen-year-old then shut the door behind him.

Still midmorning, few people were walking through the streets of the compound. Kazahi's headband thumped against his thigh, hanging from his pocket; his vest limp in his arm. Awai was long gone, most likely already meeting up with their friend at their meeting spot. A few nearby birds chirped good morning.

All of a sudden, he no longer had the desperate need to look over his shoulder. The clump of kunai in his pouch, though crafted of heavy metal, felt hollow. His shuriken had lost their sharpened edges. His view of the world was no longer dyed in the red of blood.

What was he, anyway?

He looked down at the chunin vest drapped over his hand. A ninja... that's right. He was a ninja with no more goal.

.

.

.

Reconstruction of the village was hardly anything to sweat over. As most of the fighting had been done outside of Konoha, the main things needing rebuilding were internal. That included a change in who was in charge, starting with the inauguration of the new Fourth Hokage, Minato Namikaze, a war hero Kazahi respected an awful lot.

Unlike his teammates who admired the Three Sannin, Kazahi found the Yellow Flash as his favorite and only role model.

"I just don't understand you! Lady Tsunade is the hero! She saved sooo many more people than Lord Fourth!"

"That's only because she's been alive longer."

Team 6, like many of the recuperating shinobi, were helping out with sorting paperwork and aiding the construction workers around the village. They were walking through the roads of the village, carrying heavy loads of paperwork meant to line the walls of the new Hokage's office.

Despite the large boxes impairing her view, Awai barked back at her imbecile teammate.

"You just think killing is what makes a ninja the greatest, Kazahi!"

Kazahi ignored his friend's glare.

Setsumi, taking up the rear of the group, spoke up, "Medical ninjutsu is very important. Saving lives can help more than simply taking them."

"See!" Awai hmphed with content. "Setsumi gets me! There's more to a shinobi than just fighting."

Kazahi, about to retort, stumbled at the sudden impact. A large brown-furred dog collided with his side, almost knocking the boxes of papers out of his hands. Thankfully, a large and muscular brown-skinned arm was there to help.

Yuuji repositioned his old friend after he was bumped into by his ninken, Takeki. He then sent a bright and toothy grin to Awai. "Don't take Kazahi-chan too seriously. Ya know, back when we first entered the academy, this guy admired the White Fang of the Leaf so much more than the Hokage. He thought good old Sakumo Hatake was the coolest guy around! He wanted to be just like him, too!"

Kazahi grumbled, quickening his pace. "You talk too much, Yuuji."

"Pfft—!" Awai's face grew red as she failed to hold back her laughter. "That guy?! I would have thought you'd prefer Orochimaru, 'cause you're both so weird!"

"Hey! Yuuji!" While Awai was too busy laughing much to Kazahi's expense, Yuuji's teammate, Shiki, wobbled over, carrying twice as large a load as the other ninja. "Don't give me all of your share! This is supposed to be a team effort!"

"Oh, sorry, Shiki! I just overheard them talkin' about heroes and stuff." Yuuji rubbed the back of his head. He helped Shiki by relieving more than half the boxes he held, shuffling some over to Takeki's back.

"So," Setsumi said. She looked at the remaining members of Team 2. "Is there anyone you revere as heroes?"

Awai stopped teasing Kazahi as the both of them grew interested in the newcomers' answers.

"Bah! Why do I need to care about some stupid old people. I only respect those whose strength I see firsthand!" Shiki shouted. He was as arrogant as ever.

"You're boring," Awai mumbled. She then brightened up, looking to the Inuzuka. "What about you, Yuuji?"

"Hmm..." He thought for a moment. Walking beside him, Takeki offered a soft woof as an offer, but her owner shook his head. "I guess I don't have anyone I think about like that yet. I'm a simple guy, ya know?" He grinned, but his expression conveyed his apology. "Heroes are heroes, but I'd rather just focus on worrying about those I want to protect. I guess if I have to choose, then anyone who does that is a hero in my book!"

Awai hummed in thought. Leave it Yuuji to give the humble answer. No wonder he and Kazahi were best friends.

Suddenly, Kazahi ducked his head behind the stack of boxes in his arms and grimaced.

Up ahead, the new police chief, Fugaku Uchiha, led an older brown-haired man away from one of the bars. The shop owner looked less than pleased. Fugaku's face showed no sentiment, as if this was a usual occurrence for him, while the older brown-haired man, Kazamaru, sheepishly scratched at his neck.

"Sorry, Uchiha-sama," Kazahi's father chuckled. His breath probably stank of alcohol and sake. "I guess I forgot to go home again last night..."

Fugaku sighed in disappointment, guiding the civilian down the path and past the working teenagers.

Kazahi lowered his head, trying to shield himself. He kept hidden, waiting until his father's empty excuses grew faint.

His grip around the boxes of shinobi paperwork tightened, and the back of his neck flushed. The hot prickling against his skin never left until they had reached the Hokage's office.

.

.

.

The days after the war continued. Team 6 went on missions with Kumo-sensei again. More often they trained together and with Team 2 and their sensei.

However, when they weren't on a mission or training, Kazahi snuck away into the newly placed Uchiha compound, or tried to find his way into Setsumi's room in the Hyuuga compound (as best as he could, anyway). Those places were where he and his teammates hung out like they always had, during the war. It was a tradition they'd formed during times of fighting, one that let Setsumi and Awai keep watch over their negligent-minded teammate.

The slow peace went on for several more months. The other ninja saw little change in him, but Awai noticed him avoiding their gazes more and more, and Setsumi heard less and less of his unfiltered tongue. Shiki had less fun calling him stupid, and Yuuji didn't feel much heart behind his few smiles.

The lack of strenuous orders was taking its took on the dutiful shinobi. To him, the world was still so, so gray.

Even after that one haunting night, not much had changed. The night the Kyuubi atttacked.

Kazahi had bid his grandmother goodnight before he headed into town that evening. Setsumi had said something about wanting to find a new mission outfit and wanted her friends' opinions. He didn't get it; he was just fine wearing his chunin vest wrapped around his waist, Shiki had barely changed since they were little genin, and Yuuji simply wore the normally issued shinobi clothes.

He hung back, leaning against the outside of the clothing store, as the two girls picked out a flexible kimono that didn't look any different to him than her last one; only, that one was covered in rips and dirt. Setsumi still wore her headband over her forehead. Apparently, she only ever took it off when she was alone or with Awai in the bathhouse.

Some kilometers away, he felt pricks from a valley river.

He glanced inside the store's window. Setsumi had opted for a greenish colored kimono with cream-colored accents. Awai was nodding her approval.

He felt the muted drops of chakra again.

Then it exploded, and he was momentarily blind.

Loud screams and destruction filled the air, and dust from a nearby destroyed building clouded the streets. A ginormous, orange-furred beast with deadly fangs and menacing snarls was attacking the village without pause. Without warning, Konoha had been infiltrated by the nine-tailed demon fox.

Setsumi and Awai dashed out the store. The latter caught Kazahi from stumbling as Setsumi unleashed her Byakugan on the beast. Enormous stores of chakra with no seeming end confirmed that this was no genjutsu.

Sweeping into action, the three teammates evacuated the nearby civilians. Awai took the lead, her booming voice and experience with helping the Uchiha police offered the most aid. As he was helping a pair of young children, Kazahi felt a prickling sensation emerge from his old shirt's collar and reveal one of their sensei's tracking spiders.

Kumo had arrived not a second later. He ordered the two chunin to join up with the jonin Shinku and the rest of the young ninja who were helping with evacuation. He sent his only jonin student, Awai, to meet with the other Uchihas in the police force. He did not take objection.

Kazahi and Setsumi set off, running through the crumbling village and making sure to avoid the Kyuubi. By now, most of the civilians had been taken to safety. Setsumi's Byakugan had found the only exception, a lone straggler in the streets.

It took Kazahi no time at all to recognize the civilian.

"What are you still doing here?!" Kazahi cried at his father. Kazamaru leaned against a fallen mess that had once been a wall. The older man's eyes were cloudy and some smashed pieces of glass close by didn't help alleviate his son's frustration. "You should have evacuated already!"

"Kazahi, this isn't the time," Setsumi tried to placate her friend, but he ignored her.

Kazamaru nudged further against the rubble, digging his fingers underneath. He mumbled something incoherent, but Kazahi had already stomped forward and grabbed his father by the shoulder, roughly wrenching him back. "Stop being an idiot drunkard and get to safety before you get killed! I'm sick and tired of having to look after you!"

"Kazahi—"

"Stop being useless for once in your life! Get—up—!"

"Stop it!"

Setsumi had shoved her hands against Kazahi's chest, inserting herself between father and son. Fierce lavender met tested brown. She stared straight up into Kazahi's eyes, her own pale, pupil-less ones burning with impatient rage. Her Byakugan had never been deactivated. Kazahi opened his mouth, ready to order her to back down, when a small whine interrupted him. The boy backed away, watching his father and Setsumi try to clear the fallen wood and stone.

"Help us, please," Setsumi urged her friend.

There was no time to spend arguing. Kazahi dug his hand beneath the rubble, and quickly the three were able to clear it. A young child lay on her stomach, whimpering. Her body was covered in bruises caused by the destruction. Setsumi gently picked the child up. Kazamaru, seeing his job was done, stumbled off in the direction of the evacuation center with a simple word of thanks. Kazahi watched him go until he felt a tug on his sleeve.

"Let's take her to the medics first," Setsumi said. With no room to argue, the two shinobi sped off.

.

.

.

The night of the Kyuubi's attack was a horrid memory. The time of the Fourth Hokage's rule was short, and the Third wore the hat once again.

Kazahi knelt in front of the old man whose hair had grown white with both age and stress. The lack of light in the room prevented any unwanted eyes, but he guessed there was still at least one Anbu keeping watch.

"Lord Third, you asked to see me? Is it about my latest mission?"

The Hokage inhaled from his pipe and blew out smoke.

"Yes, that is partly true. Tell me, Kazahi-kun, why did you become a shinboi?"

The sixteen-year-old paused for a moment, still facing the floorboards. "I wanted to be like my mother. Surpass her, even."

"Wanted? And what about now, why do you stay a shinobi?" The old man's eyes sparkled with a whimsical intensity.

When he received no answer, Hiruzen frowned. The once-civilian-boy kept his eyes trained on the ground, his body stern in its obedient kneel. The old man refrained from offering another question to spike the boy's answer. He could tell his young brain was already swirling with thoughts.

"Awai, my teammate," Kazahi started, "she wants to be the best of the Uchiha clan, the leader of the police force. Setsumi always acts like the perfect Hyuuga, aiming to server her clan dutifully. They both work to grow strong for the wellbeing of their clan."

The Hokage took another breath of his pipe, his pupils gleaming with interest. "And you, Kazahi-kun? Do you believe growing strong is only for the sake of your clan?"

Kazahi finally dropped his raised knee, relaxing his body with a sigh. His voice was almost pitiful. "I... don't know. I don't belong to a clan, so what reason is there for me to grow?" He raised his head, his eyes hurt and searching for anyone to give him answers.

Hiruzen hummed, an emotion Kazahi couldn't decipher hidden inside.

"Then is the village my clan?" the boy continued. "But I don't feel the strong attachment my friends show when they talk about their families. I'm confused..."

Kazahi's face twisted up in frustration. Hiruzen almost chuckled. That face looked so familiar.

"Young Kazahi-kun, that is okay. Many ninja come from normal families, and that is nothing to feel inferior for. Please, relax yourself, you're starting to look like the Second Hokage," said Hiruzen with a smile, his tone growing warm. Kazahi sputtered, appalled that even the Hokage had teased him for his grumpy expression. Hiruzen chuckled lightly, starting again. "Now, do you know what the Will of Fire is?"

As expected, Kazahi shook his head.

"It's very important to all ninja in Konoha. Think of it like the universal nindou of this village. A shared ninja way, if you will."

The room was suddenly very silent, and Kazahi was very aware how dark the corners were with the windows hidden behind their blinds. The smoke from the Hokage's pipe swirled into the darkened air, dancing into the shape of a flame.

"What do you think the Will of Fire is?"

The Hokage's tone had lost all sense of jovialness. His face was serious, and Kazahi felt the wind blow out of him at the old man's penetrative gaze. This was a test, one that could very well decide the fate of his future.

His arms weak, Kazahi took a guess. "The drive of a shinobi to complete his mission through completion. Is that the Will of Fire?"

The deep, dismissive sigh was all he needed to know he was wrong.

Kazahi gripped the cloth of his pants at the Hokage's next words, what he knew as the real reason for this meeting. "Kazahi-kun, the report of your last mission was near disastrous. Your team was almost rendered out of commission, and the objective of your mission barely escaped failure."

His fingernails dug into his skin. His vision slowly turned dimly gray despite the gentle glow of the candles.

"The mission before this one was also failed. And the several others in the past months have shown an alarming decline in mission performance. None of these statistics have been the fault of your other team members. According to each report, the blame for this negligence is solely to rest on your shoulders. If it comes to it, you may be put on leave and forced to stay within the village grounds. You may even be stripped of your shinobi rank."

"But Lord Hokage, I'm completing my missions like you ordered, for the sake of the village—"

Hiruzen raised his hand, stopping the empty shinobi.

"That's exactly it. You have forgotten what being a human is, and in turn, that has clouded your idea of the purpose of a ninja."

The words rang back in Kazahi's mind. It stilled him.

"Perhaps you should take a break. You haven't been performing the same since the war. Continually forcing yourself to take on missions and train without a goal will only prove to destroy both your mind and body in the end."

Broken by the Hokage's words, Kazahi could only mutter, "Yes. Lord Third."

Hiruzen sighed, the same unnamed emotion stirring frustration in the boy. "When was the last time I saw a spark of the will of fire in you?" The old man paused. "I have an offer for you, Kazahi-kun. Take a week's worth of ample rest, then report back to me when your mind has cleared. I have an offer for you, one that will give you the change of pace you need. For now, you are dismissed."

Kazahi's brow scrunched in confusion at the quick dismissal. "But—"

"Go," Hiruzen urged, an eager smile starting to dance on his face again. "I have preparations to complete."

.

.

.

"You'll give me permission to leave the village?!"

The Hokage nodded, his old face near a grin. This was an exciting prospect, after all. "Didn't I just say that? I'm allowing you, Kazahi Shuuji, to go on a journey to wherever your heart leads you. The world outside the village, and even the life of a shinobi, is far grander than both you and I could believe."

Kazahi blinked repeatedly, not believing what the Hokage had just told him. Traveling?! A journey?! But what about his career as a shinobi? And his team?

It seemed he must have accidently said those thoughts aloud, for the Hokage placed a wrinkled hand on the boy's steely hair, somehow roughing it up even further. He had to reach higher too; Kazahi wasn't a young boy anymore, being almost seventeen.

"You don't need to worry about that. You can treat your travels as a training journey, in fact I'd rather you not forget to train. After all, this is so you can learn what being a true human being is and become an even greater shinobi. And your team will be fine, they are already capable kunoichi, wouldn't you say?"

Kazahi grimaced at the shining old man. He was having too much fun messing with him.

The young ninja frowned. His father had traveled around, once. In fact, he had only returned to the village after news of his wife's death in the Second Great Ninja War had reached his ears. Traveling was in his blood. He felt a stab in his heart at that thought.

He gave up. He found himself doing that quite a lot recently.

"And this journey is to help me?"

Hiruzen nodded. "Exploring the shinobi world will give you a new perspective. Deep in my heart, I still believe there is the smallest of kindling of the Will of Fire still buried inside you. The past war may have put it out a little bit, but I believe that with enough push, you can make it burn brighter and hotter than ever."

Kazahi sighed, still not understanding the old man's weird words. "Fine then. If you think that a waterdog like me can still burn a blazing fire, then I have no choice but to take you up on that offer."