Aftermath (end)

For the first time in a long time, the usually calm and collected Hashirama Senju, the God of Shinobi, was genuinely enraged. The realization that the threat to Konoha had grown so insidious, tied to the black market and the hidden villages themselves, was enough to ignite a fury in him that even the most formidable shinobi could not have predicted. Hashirama was not one to act hastily, but this was an entirely different matter. The subtle, calculated disruptions to Konoha's influence, the missing shinobi, and the manipulation of the black market by White Zetsu—everything had tipped the scales.

For the next two months, Hashirama took matters into his own hands. He personally visited each of the Kage of the major hidden villages, one by one, delivering a clear and direct message: Keep your hands off Konoha. His presence alone was enough to strike fear into even the most powerful of leaders. When Hashirama spoke, the air seemed to thrum with the weight of his reputation. His words were not just warnings, but an ironclad promise that any attempt to further destabilize Konoha would be met with swift retribution.

Hashirama's journey wasn't just diplomatic; it was a crusade. He took it upon himself to personally hunt down any missing nin or rogue shinobi aligned with the conspiracies, wiping them out without mercy. The God of Shinobi was a force of nature when enraged, and his reputation for strength and fairness had always been a cornerstone of Konoha's peace. Now, it was a weapon he wielded against those who dared to challenge the village.

As Hashirama's wrath spread across the land, those involved in the conspiracy began to scatter like frightened chickens, terrified of the inevitable retribution. The major hidden villages—who had once been bold in their covert attacks—kept their distance, their leaders humbled by Hashirama's direct and unrelenting approach. Even the black market, which had flourished under White Zetsu's manipulations, was eradicated from the Land of Fire. Every network, every hidden corner where deals had been made in shadows, was wiped clean. No trace of the underworld remained, and those who had once profited from it fled, their operations dismantled beyond repair.

The Land of Fire, once again, stood strong, with Konoha's influence reinforced by the unwavering strength of its Hokage. Hashirama's fury had not only sent a message to the hidden villages and rogue elements but had also ensured that the peace and stability of Konoha would not be so easily threatened again. For now, the storm had passed, but everyone in the shinobi world knew that the God of Shinobi was not someone to be trifled with—his wrath, once unleashed, left no room for those who dared to challenge it.

After Hashirama's return to Konoha and the village's temporary calm, Tetsuma's 13th birthday arrived. Despite the intense and chaotic events that had transpired over the past few months, the young Anbu captain was given a rare moment to celebrate.

Tetsuma had long outgrown the childish celebrations of his early years. His life as an Anbu captain and the burden of his knowledge from his previous life had shaped him into someone far more mature than his age suggested. Yet, his birthday was still a special occasion, one that he quietly observed with a sense of reflection.

As was customary for those close to him, his family—Senju Toka, his mother, the formidable Anbu Commissioner, and the rest of his team—gathered for a private celebration. A simple, intimate dinner at home, away from the prying eyes of the village. The night was filled with familiar faces, and while Tetsuma rarely showed emotion, it was clear to those who knew him that this moment meant more to him than he let on.

His childhood friends, now trusted pillars of his clan, had all come as well. Even though the atmosphere was calm, Tetsuma couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude. For everything that had happened—every trial, every battle, and every political maneuver—he knew that this was the time to step back, if only for a moment.

As his mother placed a small cake in front of him, she shared a soft smile, a rare moment of vulnerability for her. "You're growing up fast, Tetsuma," she said, her voice quiet but full of warmth. "You're becoming someone we can all rely on, and I'm proud of you." Tetsuma only nodded in response, not one to express his emotions openly, but the weight of her words settled in his heart.

For a brief moment, it wasn't about politics or power struggles, or the weight of the shinobi world on his shoulders. It was just about being a young man, surrounded by family and friends, knowing that the path ahead was still long and uncertain, but also feeling secure in the knowledge that he would not have to face it alone.

Tetsuma's 13th birthday, quiet and simple, became a reminder of what he was fighting for—not just the future of his clan and village, but for the personal connections that grounded him in the midst of all the chaos.