Beneath the Starlit Sky

The battlefield was quiet now, but the silence felt heavy. Fires flickered across the open field, casting long shadows over the shinobi resting in exhaustion. Some sat hunched over, others lay flat on the ground, too drained to move. The night sky stretched endlessly above them, a vast contrast to the carnage that had unfolded just hours before.

Tetsuma sat alone on a broken tree stump, staring at the stars. His body ached, his mind weary, but sleep would not come. The weight of the battle still lingered, the image of his fallen enemies and the Hokage's near-death experience seared into his mind.

Footsteps approached, slow and deliberate.

Hiruzen sat down beside him without a word. He, too, was silent for a long time. They had fought together, bled together, but this war had changed them in ways neither wanted to acknowledge.

Finally, Hiruzen broke the silence.

"Did you know this would happen?"

Tetsuma didn't look away from the stars. His voice was quiet, almost distant.

"I prepared for it."

Hiruzen turned to him, frowning. "Prepared?"

A tired smirk ghosted over Tetsuma's lips. "If you fight long enough, you start expecting the worst." He nodded toward the tent where the Hokage rested. "A leader should always be ready for every possibility… even death."

Hiruzen exhaled sharply. "You didn't trust us to save him."

Tetsuma finally looked at him, his green eyes calm yet unwavering.

"No," he admitted. "I didn't."

Hiruzen sighed, rubbing his temple. "You're a difficult man, Tetsuma."

Tetsuma let out a quiet chuckle. "And you're too idealistic, Hiruzen."

They sat in silence once more, two men shaped by war, bound by duty, yet walking different paths. Above them, the stars shone on, indifferent to their struggles.

Tonight, the Hokage lived.

For now, that was enough.

_ _ _ _ _

Tetsuma's gaze remained fixed on the sky, but his thoughts wandered elsewhere—to the past, to a friend who was no longer by his side.

Jiro.

The name lingered in his mind like an old wound that never truly healed. Kikyo Castle had been a bloodbath, a battlefield soaked in the lives of countless shinobi. Among them, his best friend, Senju Jiro, had fallen.

Tetsuma clenched his fists. Even now, he could still hear Jiro's voice, still see the way he grinned before every battle, fearless as ever. They had grown up together, trained together, and dreamed of the future together. But in the end, Jiro's future had been stolen, buried beneath the rubble of war.

Hiruzen must have noticed the shift in his expression.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

Tetsuma didn't respond at first. The night wind whispered through the trees, filling the silence between them.

"Jiro… he wouldn't want you to be like this, Tetsuma." Hiruzen's voice was careful, measured.

Tetsuma let out a slow breath. "I know." His voice was barely above a whisper.

Jiro had died protecting their comrades, holding the line so that others could live. And yet, despite his sacrifice, the war raged on. More lives were lost. More dreams shattered.

He turned his gaze back to the stars. Somewhere out there, in the vastness of the universe, did Jiro still exist? Did he watch over them? Did he see what had become of the village they fought for?

Tetsuma closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again.

"I'll make sure it wasn't in vain," he muttered under his breath.

Hiruzen didn't say anything. He just nodded, understanding that some promises didn't need to be spoken aloud.

The night stretched on, but the weight in Tetsuma's chest remained.