That night's incident ended with the live capture of the Cloud ninja.
Although the matter would almost certainly trigger complicated diplomatic fallout between Konoha and Kumogakure, qualifying as a major political incident, to Hagoromo it was far less interesting than discovering that Tenzō could actually use Wood Release.
Wood Release—the legendary kekkei genkai that made the First Hokage famous.
Judging by the way Tenzō restrained the enemy, he was clearly talented…
talented at construction, to be precise.
If he had even a shred of business sense, switching careers into real estate development would give him a brighter future than being a shinobi.
Wood Release for building houses was incredibly convenient.
Maybe I should ask him to help renovate my old place sometime, Hagoromo thought quietly.
That was the full extent of his awe toward Wood Release.
If the First Hokage were alive, he'd probably cry himself to death hearing this.
That technique was meant to beat the Nine-Tails into submission, damn it!
Once the enemy was secured, the shinobi who had rushed over—whether to help or just watch—gradually dispersed.
Hagoromo, completely lacking the self-awareness of a troublemaker, prepared to leave with his group.
Compared to handing over a Cloud ninja in a cage to the Hokage at midnight, he'd much rather go home and clean.
His old house hadn't been lived in for years.
Just sweeping alone would be a massive project.
However, just as he was about to leave, Hyūga Hiashi, the clan head, stopped him.
Only then did Hagoromo realize—
He'd forgotten to return their daughter.
…What exactly were you planning to do with her?
The genjutsu on the girl had already been lifted, but Hagoromo hadn't woken her—he'd instead placed her into a peaceful sleep.
There was no need for her to remember the experience.
One time is experience, twice is trauma.
Hagoromo had gotten pretty good at handling kids.
Return the daughter.
Receive thanks.
Leave.
He didn't linger at all.
By this point, Tenzō's mission was complete as well, and there was no need to travel together anymore.
Hagoromo's old home was a two-story detached house.
It could comfortably fit four people, but the place clearly suffered from long-term neglect.
Every step on the floorboards produced loud creaking sounds, especially grating in the quiet night.
In the past, cleaning had always been Hagoromo's responsibility.
But now?
He had acquired a housewife-type… boy.
A fully capable domestic specialist.
Back in Lōran, Haku had already taken full charge of these chores.
"Kimimaro, don't touch that—let me do it!"
Kimimaro had just carried a basin of water inside when Haku ran over barefoot and took it from him.
With the state of Hagoromo's floors, Kimimaro might've wiped straight through them.
Haku soaked the cloth, wrung it out, then bent over to scrub the floor.
His movements were smooth, practiced, and efficient.
Honestly, compared to ninjutsu training, Haku seemed to enjoy these mundane tasks more.
Watching him, even Kimimaro couldn't help but blurt out:
"So… why are you a boy?"
Silent people really shouldn't try sarcasm.
Sometimes they're too direct.
Haku froze mid-motion.
Status effect applied: Stun.
Mental area damage: 40,000 square meters of emotional shadow.
Why indeed?
How would he know?!
Restoring a long-abandoned house to livable condition wasn't something that could be done overnight.
Cleaning alone would take at least a full day.
The next day, while Haku handled the housework, Kimimaro would go with him to buy new bedding, daily necessities, and food.
They could even stroll through Konoha together.
Coming back with bags in hand would almost feel like—
A married couple returning home.
Regardless, this house held deep meaning for both of them.
A home was very different from a mere place to stay.
And since Hagoromo had brought them back openly, they were now officially Konoha residents.
Moving freely in the village wasn't a problem.
As for Hagoromo and Mirai—
They had more important business.
Human observation.
They needed to check on Naruto's living conditions, even before reporting to the Hokage.
Several years had passed, and Uzumaki Naruto had already been pushed toward "independence."
He now lived alone.
His place was… special.
Located somewhere that once saw Muse-level combat—
Naruto's tiny apartment had been converted from a rooftop structure.
Finding it wasn't difficult for Hagoromo.
"Is my little brother really here?" Mirai asked.
She looked uncharacteristically hesitant, her usual confidence missing.
"Yes," Hagoromo replied.
He pushed the door—
Unlocked.
Inside, no one was home.
He'd completely skipped the concept of knocking.
Outside, Mirai had been nervous.
Inside, she forced herself to look mature.
An older sister's face—
even if it didn't quite work.
When Mirai said "little brother," Hagoromo nearly laughed out loud.
The truth was—
Mirai was actually the younger one.
Anyone could tell from the number of Six Paths whisker marks.
But Hagoromo had told her she was the elder sibling—
and she believed him completely.
So now she was trying very hard to act like one.
This was entirely Hagoromo's fault—habitual nonsense born of boredom.
But seeing Mirai like this, he decided to keep the lie for now.
It was… amusing.
Still—
It was early morning.
Why wasn't Naruto home?
At five years old, was he already mastering the art of staying out all night?
Promising future.
Hagoromo examined the room while Mirai looked around curiously.
A five-year-old orphan's living space—
Small, sparse, almost empty.
No warmth.
No signs of life.
Seeing Mirai's expression, Hagoromo smiled but said nothing.
This wasn't unusual.
Remove the Fourth Hokage's son label, and Naruto wasn't treated worse than other orphans.
Hagoromo himself had grown up the same way.
Blood ties were strange things.
Mirai had never met Naruto.
Her knowledge of her "brother" came only from Hagoromo's words—
yet her chest felt tight all the same.
Just as Mirai seemed to be searching for a photo or something—
Hagoromo's expression changed.
Someone was coming.
Mirai sensed it too and turned toward the door.
For the newcomer, the wide-open door was an obvious red flag.
Uzumaki Naruto, age five, encountered a major life event:
Someone broke into his house.
Carefully approaching.
Sneaking a peek.
Naruto thought he was being stealthy.
Hagoromo and Mirai saw everything clearly.
Naruto peeked in, quickly pulled his head back—
while most of his leg remained visible.
Two people inside.
After some internal power scaling, Naruto relaxed.
Only two. I can take them.
"Damn thieves! White-haired uncle, and… tomato-head brat!"
The shout was powerful, righteous—
full of defending justice energy.
He clearly hadn't considered that his place contained nothing worth stealing.
Mirai looked up at Hagoromo and blinked.
This… is my little brother?
Her earlier sadness vanished instantly.
According to Hagoromo's "Violence Guidelines", this was already a justifiable lethal offense.
Mirai blinked again.
Maybe don't kill him just yet?
…Yeah.
Better not kill him.
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