Chapter 2 : Burial, resolve and journey forward

The tears had run dry.

Not because the grief had lessened. Not because the pain had dulled.

But because there was simply nothing left to give.

The children—those too young to hold a blade, too weak to fight—stood in eerie silence as we dug the graves. The dirt was rough and packed, hardened by the flames that had licked across the village.

No bodies were whole.

Fathers and brothers, warriors who had fought to their last breath, were little more than limbs and charred flesh. Some had been torn apart by blades, others by fire, and some were left as nothing but crimson smears on the ground where they had been crushed. We buried what we could. What we recognized.

But the men were easy.

It was the mothers and sisters we dreaded.

We wished—desperately wished—that they had been torn apart beyond recognition like the men. That they had been burned beyond distinction. But they weren't. Their bodies were intact. Their suffering, etched into every limb, every white stain, every bruise, every bloodstain, was clear.

Except for the lucky ones who had died early, every single woman bore the same expression.

Vacant.

Empty.

A look of horror frozen in time, staring at something unseen.

The silence as we worked was suffocating. The younger children clung to each other, unable to watch as we placed the bodies into shallow graves, one by one. The older ones—those who had seen enough death to force themselves forward—moved like ghosts, their hands trembling as they covered their loved ones with earth.

Momosuke kept his head down, his tiny fingers raw from digging. He didn't speak. None of us did.

Karui had already buried her mother and younger sisters. Now, she sat beside them, her arms wrapped around her knees, staring at the dirt. No tears. No words. Just the unbearable weight of loss crushing down on her.

I clenched my fists, the phantom ache of past wounds mixing with the fresh ones.

I should have done more.

I should have been stronger.

I should have seen this coming. I knew in the back of my head that we were provoking far too many interests at the same time. But, I was conceited and too confident.

[Task ended.

Material lossess: Worth 25 million ryo

Loss of Life: 378

Remaining wealth: Keepsakes and forage from ruins-1 million ryo, Wealth hidden in shelter-2 million ryo]

"Kirito-nii…"

The whisper came from one of the younger children, a boy no older than six. His face was streaked with dirt and dried tears, his tiny hands curled into fists.

"What do we do now?"

I looked at him.

Then at the mass of graves stretching before us. A total of 378.

Then at the sky, gray and unforgiving.

What do we do now?

I didn't have an answer. No, I did know what I planned to do. Since I had reincarnated in this world, I planned to get strong.

It's the kids and their placement that confused me. I was a guy who planned and followed the plan to its minute detail. This ridiculous thing was out of the blue for me.

But I knew one thing.

"We survive. Even if the world had taken everything from us, we would survive."

Till now, I had lived wishing for the peace of the next era that will come in my lifetime.

But, Flashes of shinobi taking down the most powerful of Kyudo clan passed through my mind. Especially the double bladed clan symbol of Senju. Whoever may have hired them, the fact remains that there were irreconcilable differences between us at present. 

Forget about joining Konoha when it's established, I was sure that if I as much as seem like a threat to Senju clan, Tobirama would plot me to death.

Sure, Hashirama could accept my joining but in opposition, I present to you the exhibit A-Madara Uchiha. Fucking Madara Uchiha was forced to leave the village without a single loyal Uchiha due to his plots.

I still remember hearing Madara Uchiha leading shinobi from his clan on a mission in Land of Lightning. Where he crushed and banished the chinoke clan, essentially sealing the status and strength of 3 great dojutsu.

Tobirama was a paranoid freak who would not allow me to join Konoha right now. Especially when he lead the destruction of the Kyudo clan.

Of course, there was also a part of me that completely rejected joining the clan that slaughtered the people that raised me. In a way, they were my family.

I took a deep breath and started thinking about the events with a clear mind.

I know that Hashirama might not have the cruelty to allow this mission. But, it is a big if, for me to believe canon. For all I know, it might be an AU.

WHEW

One more deep breath. I need to stay calm and stop thinking about such stupid thoughts. While the things I know about the canon were vague, they were at least happening. Thinking about this, I wanted to pat my child self on the back for his smartness. Using the free time of childhood, I had entered as many canon events as possible I remembered into the AI database. Because, most of those memories faded leaving only the most prominent ones.

Anyways, the hidden leaf was both distant and impossible for me. Now, I am responsible for Kids, who were next to useless but had clear ties to their extinguished clan. Meaning, no clan will take in kids with split loyalties.

Their eyes dead and dull show me that they are already in the process of giving up hopes of living after this cruel task. So, I need to motivate them. In fact, their resolve must be truly strong to grow into a force that can survive in this era. Right now, they have nothing.

 Considering the situation, the best route to motivate them is obvious- revenge.

I stood, brushing the dirt from my hands. My body still ached from my wounds, but I pushed it aside. Pain was secondary. My eyes swept over the graves, then to the children who still lingered, silent and lost.

"Momosuke," I called.

He flinched, then turned to me. His hands were clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his skin. He looked exhausted. Too young for this. Too small for this.

But he was the heir of the Kyudo.

"The ones who did this," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Do you know who they were?"

His expression twisted—grief, anger, uncertainty all flashing across his face. But then he nodded. "They… they wore symbols. Meaning, they weren't missing-nin." His jaw tightened. "They were sent. Hired. Someone wanted us gone."

His eyes were clear, and his entire body was begging for me to tell him.

So, I told him.

"The Hagoromo clan," I began, voice steady despite the exhaustion dragging at my bones. "Each and every single one of their clan choose to have complete mastery over one of the five elemental releases. Something I didn't achieve till now. Their shinobi are pure ninjutsu specialists. Together as a clan, they wield nature transformations like a second skin, shaping battlefields with fire, wind, lightning, earth, and water as if they were one."

His expression darkened, especially when he looked at the said battlefield . Our home.

But I didn't stop.

"The Kaguya clan," I continued, "are monsters in human form. Their bodies are weapons, their bloodline allowing them to manipulate their bones—turning them into blades, spears, armor. Their taijutsu is relentless, inhuman. It isn't just skill or strength. It's endurance beyond reason, pain tolerance that makes them terrifying to face. If we had lost a limb, we would be in a coma. Like Jizen. The Kaguya—those monsters would shrug it off and such for the next battle."

The air in the cramped space grew heavier. Momosuke's hands trembled slightly, his breathing slow but uneven.

I sighed, running a hand through my tangled hair. "Both of these clans are formidable," I admitted. "Dozens of their shinobi could rival our clan leader in strength. Some even surpass him."

In this era, most of the clan leaders had about Jonin level strength.

A sharp intake of breath came from Karui.

"Dozens?" she echoed. Her voice was raw, barely above a whisper. "But our Clan leader was—"

"One of the strongest men I've ever seen," I finished for her. "And yet, against them, we weren't even worth remembering."

He was Jonin level shinobi, according to the strength classification in hidden village era. But, such shinobi were common in those clans that date back to founding of chakra itself.

The truth was bitter, but I refused to soften it.

I watched as Karui absorbed my words, the reality sinking in. Then, after a long silence, she asked the question I had been dreading.

"What about the Senju?"

I felt my jaw tighten. I had purposefully left them out. Not because I had forgotten, but because there were no words that could properly convey what they were. I was afraid of crushing the kids completely, especially if they knew of Hashirama's strength.

On second thought, I knew they would know in the future. Better crush their spirits now rather than the future, in which I invested too much in them.

"The Senju," I murmured, staring at the flickering torch on the wall. "They are different."

Karui frowned. "Different how?"

I exhaled slowly. "Their leader…" I hesitated, searching for a way to explain. "It isn't something I can express in words."

That wasn't an exaggeration.

"The Senju leader is a man who can conquer the current world if he so desires," I said finally. "It doesn't matter how large the enemy army is. It doesn't matter how much wealth they possess. It doesn't matter how much preparation they've made."

I met Karui's gaze, my voice dropping into something almost resigned.

"They will still lose."

Silence.

The children stared at me, as if waiting for me to take it back—to tell them I was exaggerating, that no man could be that strong.

I didn't.

Because it was the truth. Coming from me, the one they look up to, they will believe it.

"And he isn't alone," I continued. "The Senju clan is the strongest clan in the world. Not just one prodigy, not just one trick. They have hundreds of shinobi, all trained under their banner, all of them were the most versatile shinobi alive. Most importantly, they firmly believe in their leader and follow him into death."

Momosuke's voice was hoarse when he spoke. "Then… then what can we even do?"

His hands were shaking now, fingers tightening in frustration. Karui had gone completely still. The younger children, though too young to fully grasp the depth of what I was saying, had paled.

I leaned back against the cold wall, closing my eyes for a moment.

What could we do?

"Against them, we were insects. Less than that."

If they truly couldn't muster an emotion like revenge on their own, I better ensure that they get a safe place to retire in peace.

"ARGH!"

The moment I heard that scream, I knew Jizen had woken up.

I sighed, leaving the kids to their thoughts and making my way toward the few carriages we had managed to salvage from the rubble. My feet ached, my body was screaming at me to rest, but there was no time for that.

Pushing aside the worn curtain covering the carriage entrance, I stepped in and met the gaze of Jizen, a man who, despite only being forty-two, I called an old man. Not because of his age, but because of his hair. Grey.

In this world, where people lived and died before their prime, where shinobi and samurai fought until their bodies gave out, seeing a head of grey hair was rare.

It was proof of how cruel this era was. And further proof at how experienced Jizen was to survive this era for 42 years.

Jizen let out a sigh of relief at the sight of me. "You're still alive," he muttered. "Good."

I sat across from him, resting my back against the carriage wall. "How much do you remember?"

He grimaced, pressing a hand against his side where fresh bandages covered his wounds. "Enough." His eyes darkened. "I take it you managed to pull together the survivors?"

"More or less," I admitted. "But…"

I told him. About the children. About their hollow eyes, their lifeless expressions. About how they didn't even have the energy to hate.

Jizen listened in silence as I explained everything, including my breakdown of the enemy forces.

And then, without hesitation, he said, "So you're considering whether to abandon them in some city or foster them into your new force based on their resolve?"

Blunt as ever. I guess you would develop such bluntness when you lived as shinobi for over 30 years. As far as I know, He joined the Kyudo based on the friendship he had with the clan leader. So, he preferred clear logic over heartfelt emotions.

I exhaled through my nose. "If they can't even muster an emotion like revenge, there's no point in forcing them into a future they don't want. I can at least make sure they have a safe place to retire."

Jizen hummed. He discussed in a clear and detached manner, characteristic to him.

"A safe place, huh?"

I nodded. "With my experience in setting up clan's businesses in trade and commerce, I can set them up with comfortable lives. The first time, establishing suitable business was difficult but doing it once more will be much easier."

He gave me a look, and for once, he didn't argue.

Instead, he went quietly.

I watched as his gaze flickered down, his fingers tapping absently against his knee. I knew that silence. That hesitation.

Then, finally, he said, "You're truly blooming without the old clan leader trying to control you. As if a weight lifted of your soldiers."

I tensed.

"Free from slaving away for the clan," he added.

I clenched my jaw, swallowing the sharp retort that tried to rise in my throat. A slave. That's what I was to the clan, and I voiced it out multiple times.

Even if neatly wrapped and proclaimed as a genius. The clan leader didn't look at me like a family member, not like his children, cousins and numerous grandchildren. Not like Jizen, his wandering shinobi friend. Even Jizen held much better freedom and lesser constraints than me. Despite being born in the clan compound and being raised among them. All because of my lack of direct blood relationship to the clan leader.

He was a firm believer in bloodline and their significance in terms of loyalty. This belief choked me.

Especially, his actions on enforcing his cruel views on me, strained my modern sensibilities.

That didn't mean I wanted this.

I looked away, exhaling slowly. "…That doesn't mean I wanted this to happen."

Jizen gave a tired chuckle. "I know."

We sat in silence.

The carriage rocked slightly with the wind outside, the distant murmurs of children reaching my ears.

Whether I abandoned them or turned them into a force strong enough to get revenge, one thing was clear—I had to decide soon.

Thankfully, the decision was made rather fast. Especially when Momosuke led the kids to approach me.

Momosuke asked the most critical point I left out. The focus on which I hoped their flames of hatred can plunge on. Unlike the shinobi clans, this enemy is reachable and can be killed by their own hands.

Momosuke's voice cut through the silence like a blade.

"Who hired them?"

I met his gaze. He wasn't trembling. He wasn't hesitating. Good, it means that he wanted an answer.

I smiled. "The Daimyo."

The children flinched. Jizen let out a slow breath. It didn't much for me to narrow down the list to the only person in the country who could hire such large clans.

Momosuke's expression twisted in doubt. "But why? Weren't we just another rising clan?"

I exhaled, leaning back. "The clan leader was too ambitious… and I was reckless in hindsight."

I saw no reason to lie.

"Our aggressive entry into the merchant business, the recruitment of civilians—these things were never meant to be part of a ninja clan's rise. We weren't playing by the rules. That made us a threat." I closed my eyes briefly. "And threats are eliminated."

A dry chuckle came from Jizen. "I told you so."

I ignored him because he was right. The man's long experience as Shinobi told him that such business was not meant for Shinobi. It was essentially the actions of a noble. A kind of soft power that enabled the feudal lords to stand above the shinobi in the current era. The ability to control masses through wealth and power should never be touched by a shinobi. Even, the simple capacity to influence them, even a tiny bit more than just good reputation, Nobles seemed to take offense.

The superhuman shinobi wielding the power of noble was a nightmare to any Daimyo. Hence, the swift retaliation.

Though, majority of times, the retaliation would be limited to increased taxes, rumours to damage reputation or even a direct warning. But, this was beyond normal retatiation. It was complete eradication. I didn't know the exact reason behind it. But, looking at Jizen, I internally thought, I would find out.

Jizen muttered out, "Even, I didn't expect such lightning-fast response. It seems this Daimyo is much ruthless than the Daimyo I served."

 He would know their actions and mindset, especially since he was a bowmen in the Daimyo's army. Along with the recently dead clan leader.

My thoughts aside, the room fell silent from Jizen's muttering.

Momosuke's hands clenched into fists. The younger children—who had been drowning in despair—stared at me, their dull, lifeless eyes flickering. Not with sadness. Not with fear.

With understanding.

And then—

A spark.

Jizen saw it too. Their postures straightened, their fingers twitched, their expressions sharpened.

Their hatred finally had a target.

Momosuke sucked in a breath. "Then… that means…" His voice trembled with something new.

Hope.

"We have a chance for revenge."

A dark, quiet understanding settled over the children.

For the first time, their expressions weren't blank. Their eyes weren't hollow.

I could see it—the moment their purpose shifted.

All ninja clans knew one truth: their strength could allow them to kill any civilian. Lords, merchants, nobles—but it always had consequences of revenge. Generally, they could escape to another land if they were lucky.

But the Daimyo?

The Daimyo had the wealth to hire entire clans. That made the difference. That crushed the idea of rebellion before it even began.

No shinobi could go rogue against a Daimyo and live. Yet, the Daimyo was a normal civilian, he could die quite easily, even by their little hands.

Kids, they may be, but they were shinobi kids. There was a reason the Daimyo ordered the Kyudo clan's eradication. While the Daimyo power came from the shogi board that represented the entire country, in which he was the center piece. A rogue shinobi could flip the entre board as long as he disregarded the consequences.

Momosuke kneeled.

His forehead pressed against the ground, his small frame trembling—not with sorrow, but with determination. The kids choose follow him in the act. Such archaic custom in the modern society, but common custom in this era.

"I want to kill the Daimyo."

A rare thing for a shinobi to utter. Even an old ninja clan, dating back hundreds of years could destroy itself trying to go against the feudal lords.

Unless—

"The only way to kill a Daimyo," I said slowly, watching as they hung onto my every word, "is if the new Daimyo orders it."

The moment the words left my lips, the children moved.

They sprang to their feet, their young bodies trembling—not with grief, but with purpose. A purpose that looked out of place in these tiny bodies. A purpose that was possible.

Because, there was always someone ready to dethrone the current Daimyo and become the new Daimyo.

"For the new Daimyo to order the assassination to you, you should be strong enough to get such order."

Finally, I motivated them and steered their motivation at getting strong.

Jizen snorted. "And where do you think we'll find a place to grow strong? No clan will risk the current Daimyo's wrath for a bunch of half-dead kids with split loyalties. Besides, the invading clans would never sleep tight when knowing that we survived."

"Hence, We would leave the land of grass with all haste. Especially since Hagoromo clan's power would be the greatest here. We need to run. We should be thankful that Kaguya clan were most of the time in Land of water. But, knowing those madmen, they welcome our revenge with open arms. So, the biggest threat to us will be gone, as long as we leave the heartland of Hagoromo clan and Daimyo."

Jizen only asked me, "But, Where? You think safety was that easy to find. Every place in the world has chains of interests binding on them. NO ONE will offer safety for free. It took over a decade to establish the Kyudo clan's residence here. Where can we find such a miraculous safe haven that can allow us to grow strong."

"There is one."

Jizen frowned. "…What?"

"A clan that defines itself by its neutrality."

The realization dawned on him. His eyes widened. "But, They're allies of the Senju."

I smirked. "Allies, yes. But only in name when you considered the distance between them. You could say they were distant cousins, at best. They don't get involved unless they have to. They're the most peaceful clan in the world… and that won't change overnight. At least, they won't change themselves for us. Besides, the Senju only did their mission. Nothing more and nothing less. At least they didn't have any personal grievances with us like Hagoromo clan nor Kaguya clan"

Such callous words made sense to Jizen but he pointed out that, "But, it also means that there were personal grievances now."

I sighed and said, "Let's be real! How do you think we survived? You know who led the senju on this mission."

Flashes of silver hair and swift slash of tanto passed through my mind. Especially my lungs which remembered his water jutsu and my torso which almost got torn open. Hence, it was easy to recognize the reason behind our survival.

"Mercy."

Especially when I know what kind of skilled sensor he was. Fuck, even my sensing jutsu itself was made based on the scenes of anime that featured him. Hence, I was sure he found the kids in basement but he let them go. If it was anyonelse, I would have entertained the thought of us escaping due to luck.

But, the shinobi acknowledged as the greatest hunter in the world right now, allowing survivors, was only due to mercy.

Jizen narrowed his eyes. "Even if that's true, do you think the Senju will let us go? Especially, if we try to make a comeback. Closing one eye against the presence of a dozen kids and single shinobi that might not make it past a week was one thing. But, a dozen shinobi growing strong will provoke them."

I scoffed. "The new Senju clan leader is a peace-lover. He won't chase us. Besides, even if he wasn't."

Knowing the future, I was sure. Afterall, changing the world can't be done in a single day. It takes years of persistent efforts.

"He and the Senju would be far too busy. And besides…"

I looked around at the children, disabled Jizen and myself.

"We are far too weak."