The gates of Konohagakure loomed in the distance, the rising sun casting golden light over the village nestled between the hills.

After five long days of travel, they had finally arrived.

Hana felt her breath still for a moment.

This was it.

Her new home.

The path leading to the village entrance was lined with shinobi on duty—Konoha guards stationed along the gates, keeping watch over those who entered. But as the group approached, it became very clear that their arrival had already been anticipated.

A small gathering of shinobi stood just beyond the gates, and at the center of them—

Senju Hashirama.

Hana had never met him before, but there was no mistaking who he was.

Tall, broad-shouldered, with long dark hair and warm brown eyes, Hashirama stood with an easy smile, his presence exuding effortless authority. Beside him, standing with regal grace, was a woman with striking red hair and sharp golden eyes—Senju Mito.

The moment they stepped through the gates, Hashirama's smile widened.

"Welcome back, everyone!"

The energy in the air shifted.

Unlike the more formal, scrutinizing presence of the clan heads, Hashirama's aura was open—inviting, almost.

Tobirama barely had time to step forward before his brother strode directly past him—

And scooped Hana into a hug.

Hana froze.

The gathered shinobi stared.

The Nara head smirked. The Akimichi leader looked deeply entertained. Kyukishi's eyebrow lifted just slightly.

Even Mito raised an amused brow.

Tobirama sighed through his nose, visibly restraining himself. "Brother."

Hashirama grinned, still holding Hana as if she weren't completely rigid with shock.

"You must be Hana!" he boomed, pulling back just enough to beam at her. "Tobirama's been so mysterious about you! I've been dying to meet you!"

Hana blinked.

Hashirama Senju—the First Hokage, the man who had ended the Warring States period, the founder of Konoha—

Was smothering her like an excited uncle.

"…It's an honour to meet you," she managed, voice weak.

Hashirama grinned. "The honor is mine! I hear you're very talented!" Hashirama chuckled, finally stepping back—but his warm gaze didn't waver. "You're younger than I imagined," he said, tilting his head slightly. "How old are you?"

Hana hesitated. "…Fourteen."

A brief silence.

Mito's golden eyes flickered.

Tobirama's gaze barely shifted, but something about his posture tensed slightly.

Even the clan heads—who had already come to terms with her presence—seemed to pause at the reminder.

Fourteen.

The weight of what she had been entrusted with—what she had already endured—settled in the air once more.

Mito, for the first time since their arrival, stepped forward golden eyes flickered—not in disapproval, but in something softer. Something understanding.

"I see."

Before Hana could try to explain herself, Mito's entire demeanour shifted.

Her warm smile returned as she reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Hana's ear in a gesture so gentle it caught her completely off guard.

"You must be exhausted," Mito said, her voice kind. "Come, let's get you settled before anything else."

Hana blinked, caught between shock and something dangerously close to comfort.

"I—" she started, glancing at Tobirama.

Tobirama nodded.

Hashirama grinned. "Ah, you're in good hands now!"

Hana hesitated only a second longer before quickly moving to keep pace with Mito. Waving goodbye to her acquaintances, the clan heads.

As they walked, Mito glanced at her. "Do you prefer tea or something sweeter?"

Hana hesitated before answering, "…Tea."

Mito smiled. "Good."

Hana exhaled slowly. She had a feeling Mito wasn't just offering hospitality. She was watching her. Not as a threat.

But as something… fragile.

Hana bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't know how to feel about that. Following Mito through the wide streets of Konoha, her eyes taking in everything—the grand layout, the towering trees that seemed seamlessly integrated into the village's design. She was so focused on her surroundings that she didn't notice the figure approaching from the other direction.

Until she walked straight into him. Hana staggered back, eyes widening in shock.

The man she had bumped into barely reacted.

She looked up— And met the deep onyx eyes of a person who looked similarly close to Uchiha Kyukishi.

The air around them shifted.

His presence was unlike anything she had ever felt—heavy, suffocating, and completely controlled. He didn't move. Didn't speak. Just observing her. As if dissecting her right then and there. Hana's breath caught slightly.

'He feels like Hashirama.'

Different, but almost the same.

She straightened immediately, taking a small step back.

"Ah, Madara," Mito's voice interrupted smoothly. "You're early."

Hana could feel his gaze still on her, but he finally shifted his attention toward Mito.

"Hm."

Without another word, he simply stepped past them and continued walking.

Hana didn't move until he was gone.

Mito chuckled softly. "Well, that is the Uchiha clan's head."

Hana exhaled slowly, she was confused. "I… Kyukishi-san?"

Mito hummed. "Ah, he's his second in command. Madara and Tobirama don't get along that well so he didn't accompany Tobirama to Yutakatakuni." The older woman informed her. "Don't worry about Madara, he has that effect on people."

Hana didn't reply.

Hana's eyes flickered open.

For a moment, she wasn't sure where she was.

The warmth of the fire, the quiet breathing of those around her, the faint scent of the old wooden walls—everything was different from the open roads of her memories. Her heart still felt nostalgic—the overwhelming vastness of the village, the weight of unfamiliar eyes watching her, and her love for her late husband, Tobirama.

Hana sat up slightly on the couch, rubbing her temples. Across from her, Kakashi was still awake.

Lounging on the opposite couch, he looked completely at ease, one arm behind his head while the other lazily held a small, bright orange book at an angle that very conveniently obscured the cover.

Hana tilted her head, watching him for a moment.

His visible eye was focused, scanning the pages with an unusual level of concentration. Every now and then, he would turn the page just a little too slowly, as if savouring whatever he was reading.

She narrowed her eyes slightly. "…What are you reading?"

Kakashi's entire body stilled.

For a shinobi of his calibre—someone who could avoid assassinations in his sleep and dodge kunai without looking—it was subtle. Barely noticeable. But Hana noticed. His page-turning faltered for exactly half a second before resuming at a perfectly normal pace.

Kakashi didn't look up. "A book."

Hana raised an eyebrow. "Obviously."

Silence.

Then, slowly, deliberately, Hana leaned forward, squinting at the garishly orange cover.

Kakashi shifted just slightly, adjusting the book's angle—barely perceptible, but undeniably defensive.

A small smirk tugged at Hana's lips.

"…That wouldn't happen to be Icha Icha, would it?"

Kakashi finally looked up.

His visible eye narrowed slightly as if assessing whether she was messing with him or if she knew.

"…Maybe."

Hana hummed, leaning her chin against her palm. "I see."

Silence.

Kakashi turned another page, casually. "You sound suspiciously interested."

Hana smirked. "I'm just curious."

Kakashi gave her a flat look. "Curious?"

Hana tilted her head. "It must be very compelling if you're reading it in the middle of the night instead of sleeping."

Kakashi let out a slow, measured sigh, his eye briefly closing, as if he were mentally preparing himself for whatever direction this conversation was about to take.

Then, lazily, he muttered, "It has… depth."

Hana huffed a laugh. "Does it?"

Kakashi nodded solemnly. "A rich and complex narrative."

Hana's smirk widened. "Is that so?"

Kakashi flipped a page. "Absolutely."

Hana shifted forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Then you wouldn't mind telling me what it's about."

Kakashi froze again. For exactly one breath. Then, smoothly, he turned another page, voice as nonchalant as ever. "It's, uh… quite nuanced."

Hana grinned. "Oh? So you can explain it?"

Kakashi casually snapped the book shut.

Hana burst into laughter.

For the first time that night, Kakashi looked mildly flustered.

It wasn't obvious—but it was there.

The way his fingers drummed lightly against the book's cover. The way he glanced toward the fire as if considering whether to make a quick escape.

Hana smirked, crossing her arms. "Well? I'm waiting."

Kakashi sighed through his nose, finally slumping back against the couch in defeat.

"…It's about the complexities of adult relationships."

Hana snorted. "Ah, yes. The depth."

Kakashi pointedly did not respond.

Hana, still grinning, rested her chin in her hand. "You know, I think I should read it sometime."

Kakashi's eye snapped to her.

"…You wouldn't like it," he said immediately.

Hana raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why not?"

Kakashi gave her a long, assessing look, as if deciding whether to stop this conversation before it spiralled any further. Finally, with an exaggerated sigh, he muttered,

"…You seem like someone who prefers historical texts."

Hana burst out laughing again.

Kakashi rubbed his temple, muttering something under his breath about troublesome conversations.

After a moment, the laughter softened, and Hana leaned back against the couch, a faint smile lingering on her lips.

The past still pressed against the edges of her mind—but it wasn't as heavy.

The warmth of the fire, the quiet company of another shinobi who had long since learned how to balance humour and silence—

It was enough.

Kakashi, still holding his book, side-eyed her suspiciously. "Are you still thinking about it?"

Hana smirked. "Oh, absolutely."

Kakashi sighed again.

This was going to be a long night.