…
Konoha air was fresh as usual as Murakami, Daichi, Aiko, and Hina made their way through the streets of Konoha, all dressed in various colored kimonos.
It was a rare sight to see them all dressed up like this, but with the day off Hina had insisted on, it seemed like the perfect excuse to take a break from the usual grind.
Murakami, of course, was wearing his usual black kimono, appearing serious and calm.
His kimono had a simple, yet elegant design, with subtle patterns of swirling Lotuses along the edges.
Aiko wore a pink kimono with cherry blossoms blooming across the fabric, a stark contrast to Murakami's somber attire.
Daichi's kimono was a deep blue, decorated with small golden Lotus patterns that shimmered as he walked.
He looked slightly more relaxed than usual, though it was hard to tell if it was from the change in attire or simply because he was out of the store.
Hina, of course, was dressed in a graceful white kimono adorned with soft green Lotus, her hair pinned neatly in place.
She had an air of calm confidence about her, but there was something about the way she carried herself today that made her look more mature for her age.
It was a rare thing to see her act anything other than the reliable older sister figure she always was.
They made their way through the bustling streets of the village, occasionally drawing glances from passersby.
People in Konoha didn't usually dress in kimonos unless it was for a special occasion, so the sight of the four of them walking together in their elegant outfits was a curious one.
Murakami could see a few people whispering, no doubt speculating about the odd group walking through the streets.
"So, this is Senju Park?" Murakami asked, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his kimono as he glanced around.
Murakami had never really heard much about the place before today.
"Yep," Aiko said with a grin. "I've always wanted to see it."
Daichi, who had been unusually quiet, gave a small nod. "It's one of the nicer places in the village. The Senju put quite a bit into maintaining it."
Murakami looked around at the wide paths, carefully maintained gardens, and the various buildings scattered throughout the grounds.
"Not bad."
Aiko rolled her eyes. "That's all you have to say?"
"What else do you want me to say?"
She opened her mouth, paused, then sighed. "Never mind."
Murakami also let out a small sigh, adjusting his kimono as they continued walking.
As they crossed the gates of Senju Park, Murakami was struck by the ambience of the place. It wasn't as grand as he expected, but there was a quiet, dignified beauty about it.
The park was filled with greenery, towering trees lining the paths while vibrant flowers bloomed throughout.
At the entrance were two small stone pillars, each carved with the likeness of the first Hokage, Hashirama Senju, and the second Hokage, Tobirama Senju.
Their likenesses were portrayed in heroic poses.
"This place... it's more peaceful than I imagined," Murakami said, his voice soft as he took in the sight before him.
Hina smiled at him. "You'd be surprised. The Senju clan may have been warriors, but they were also protectors of the land."
"Their focus wasn't just on battle, but on preserving peace and harmony with nature."
Murakami hummed in understanding, my gaze drifting toward the trees surrounding the path.
"So they basically turned their backyard into a public attraction."
Hina gave me a look. "That's one way to put it."
Aiko suddenly pointed toward a large tree ahead. "Look at that one! Do you think it's older than the village?"
Daichi glanced at it. "Probably not."
"How would you know?"
"Because it doesn't look that old."
Aiko frowned. "What does an old tree look like?"
Daichi shrugged "Old."
Murakami snorted in amusement.
Aiko turned toward him. "Don't laugh. You're not helping."
"I wasn't laughing at you."
"You were."
"I was laughing at Daichi's impressive contribution to the conversation."
Daichi looked at him. "At least I answered her."
Murakami rolled his eyes. "Technically."
Aiko crossed her arms. "Fine. Since both of you are so knowledgeable, how old do you think it is?"
Murakami looked up at the tree for a moment. "Maybe eighty years."
Daichi raised an eyebrow. "You actually have a guess?"
"No. I just wanted to sound intelligent."
Aiko stared at me for a second before bursting into laughter.
Hina shook her head, a small smile appearing on her face.
Murakami couldn't help but smile as well as they continued deeper into the park, following the winding path beneath the trees.
His thoughts, however, eventually drifted back to Nawaki.
His birth had been a harmless piece of conversation, but now that he was standing on Senju grounds, surrounded by people celebrating the clan's newest addition, the thought returned.
The Second Shinobi War was still years away, but knowing what was coming made the distance feel uncomfortably short.
Murakami exhaled quietly and pushed the thought aside.
There was no point ruining a day off worrying about a war that was over a decade away.
"Murakami? You okay?" Aiko's voice broke through his thoughts.
Murakami blinked, noticing that the others had stopped walking ahead of him.
He forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, just... thinking."
Aiko raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
Murakami shrugged. "About everything. The future, I guess."
Hina stepped forward, her smile soft. "You don't have to worry so much about the future. Today, let's just enjoy the moment."
"Right," Murakami muttered, adjusting his kimono once again.
Hina was right. They were here to enjoy the present and he didn't want to waste it.
"Come on," Aiko urged, grabbing his arm and pulling him along. "Let's go see the exhibition! They're showing off all kinds of cool stuff from the Senju clan's history. You'll like it."
Murakami smiled, his usual reservations easing just a little. "Alright, lead the way."
The exhibition hall stood near the heart of Senju Park, a wide, circular building surrounded by gentle stone lanterns and trimmed bushes.
A steady stream of visitors flowed in and out, their faces curious, respectful, and in some cases, visibly moved.
Murakami stepped inside the building, following the others as they entered the exhibition hall.
The first display held the ancient armor which had on it the name of the owner; Senju Takamasa, the "Ironwood Vanguard."
Though tattered and darkened by age and battle, it still carried an imposing presence.
Beside it hung his cracked mask, accompanied by a short inscription detailing his most famous feat.
When a large Uchiha force ambushed a Senju withdrawal column, Takamasa had reportedly held a mountain pass alone for an entire night, buying enough time for hundreds of wounded Senju to escape in a clash against the Uchiha.
He survived until dawn.
By then, the Uchiha force had withdrawn, believing reinforcements had arrived.
They hadn't.
Takamasa had simply refused to fall.
Above it hung a faded painting depicting warriors clashing across an open field, fire and steel filling the scene beneath a dark red sky.
Daichi stopped beside Murakami. "This was before Konoha."
He nodded. "Back when having a different surname was enough reason to kill someone."
Daichi gave a quiet chuckle. "Pretty much."
Aiko had already moved to the next display. She leaned closer to a scroll bearing Tobirama Senju's name.
"Look at this. It talks about the Academy."
Murakami looked over.
"He helped establish it so children from ordinary families could receive proper shinobi education," she said. "People like us wouldn't have had the same opportunities before."
Murakami paused on it for a moment before looking away. That was one of the things he had to give Tobirama credit for.
Whatever else could be said about the man, he had understood that a village couldn't depend entirely on clans.
We moved on.
The next display showed an old sketch of Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha standing side by side as children.
Below it was a quote attributed to Hashirama:
"If only we could create a place where children didn't have to die for the wars of men…"
"That's actually kind of sad," Aiko murmured.
Hina nodded. "That was part of why he wanted to build the village."
"So people could stop fighting?" Daichi asked.
"That's what he hoped."
Murakami looked at the two children in the sketch. They looked nothing like the Hashirama and Madara he knew, but he had to give it to Hashirama.
He had succeeded, at least for a while.
And yet, standing here decades later, Murakami knew exactly how temporary that peace will be in the coming decades.
The rest of the exhibition passed quietly.
Eventually, we stepped back outside into the sunlight.
Murakami took in a breath of fresh air and stretched slightly. "Not bad,"
Aiko looked at him. "That's your review?"
"What do you want, a five-page report?"
She laughed. "You're hopeless. Anyways!" then clapped her hands suddenly. "That was beautiful but also heavy. Can we play now?"
Daichi gave a small smirk. "I think that was your main intention."
The group laughed at that and Aiko didn't make any attempts at denying it.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a much lighter mood.
A small fair had been set up inside the park, with rows of stalls selling snacks, sweets, and simple games.
Murakami bought myself a stick of dango and barely finished the first piece before Aiko appeared beside him with cotton candy.
"Try this."
"I already have something."
"That wasn't a question."
Before he could respond, she pushed some toward his mouth. He reluctantly took a bite. "Too sweet."
"You're impossible." She laughed and, while trying to demonstrate how fluffy it was, managed to smear some of it onto my sleeve.
Murakami stared at the sticky patch.
"Aiko." he called out softly.
She froze, then smiled innocently. "It was an accident."
He sighed and lightly swatted her hand away when she tried to fix it.
Hina, meanwhile, just watched them all with a soft smile, occasionally buying treats for herself or nudging Murakami toward something when he looked too serious.
Eventually, they sat under a large tree near a small koi pond. A group of ducks waddled nearby, quacking at passersby for food.
Murakami leaned back, chewing on the last bit of his meat skewer, when Aiko suddenly said, "Hey… do you remember the first time we all met?"
Hina's eyes lit up. "At the orphanage?"
Daichi groaned. "I was eight. You two threw a bucket of water on me while I was sleeping."
"You were snoring like a dying boar," Aiko replied with a giggle.
Murakami shook his head, smiling despite himself. "And then you chased her around the courtyard with a broom."
"You were too scary so I picked the easiest target." Daichi confessed with a chuckle.
"I remember!" Hina laughed. "I had to separate them and pretend to be mad. But secretly, I was just glad someone had enough energy to run."
"I think mine was when we were four. Kana, Daisuke, Sora, Aiko and the others spoiled my well built trap." Murakami said with a soft smile.
"Yeah… I still remember." Aiko said with a laugh. "You were one strange kid."
There was a pause as the memories of the past settled in.
The orphanage's cold floors in winter, the meals shared together, laughter during chores, Hina's voice singing softly to the younger kids during storms.
The place where everything started.
Murakami's eyes drifted toward a group of children playing in the grass nearby.
They weren't from the orphanage, just local kids, likely, but something about the scene stirred something in him.
He glanced over at Hina, who met his gaze without needing words.
"Can you bring them here next week?" he asked. "All of them. Just for a day."
She blinked. "The kids?"
"Yeah. They'd love this place."
Hina's expression softened. "I can talk to Hoshino-san. I'm sure we can make it happen."
"Good," Murakami said quietly. "Let them have something to remember. Something fun."
Aiko leaned against his side, resting her head briefly on his shoulder. "You're secretly sweet, you know that?"
Murakami didn't respond. He just tossed his now empty skewer stick into a nearby bin.
As the sun began to dip low in the sky, the lanterns overhead began to glow. A gentle breeze stirred the branches, and music from a nearby shamisen player floated on the wind.
They stood, stretching lazily.
"That was a good day," Daichi said.
"Yeah," Aiko added. "We should do this more often."
Murakami looked around at the scene, the laughter of children, the warm evening lights.
He reached into his sleeve pocket for a small notepad, only to realize it was full of notes and numbers.
"I wish we had a camera," he muttered.
"A what?" Aiko asked, confused.
Murakami blinked. "I mean… a sketch artist. You know. To capture this moment."
Hina raised an eyebrow. "You said camera."
Murakami cleared my throat. "A type of image-capturing device. From an old scroll.
"That's an incredibly suspicious explanation," Hina thought but gave him a knowing smile and didn't press.
As they walked slowly back, Murakami glanced over his shoulder one last time.
The park stood still behind them, quiet and timeless, like something from a dream. And for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to feel something he usually locked away.
Hope.
Just a little.
Perhaps he could make this world a better place for his people.
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Like it? Read up to chapter 60 on [email protected]/This_Young_Lord