It was still Year 38, and the weather had been gloomy for the past few days. The clouds hung low over the village, like Kiri's infamous mist had followed their ninja home.
How fitting that even nature mirrors their invasion, I thought, adjusting the collar of my formal wear. Too new, barely worn. Father always said ninja shouldn't need funeral clothes often. Another promise this war broke.
The funeral of my father was held together with the other ninjas who had sacrificed themselves alongside him. The streets were quieter now—news of Kiri's attack had spread through the village.
Before the funeral, I had gone to see Father's remains. The ANBU captain had spoken to me directly, his white mask tilted down to my level. "Your father died protecting his comrades," he'd said, voice gentler than his mask would suggest. "He ensured the intelligence reached Konoha."
Fortunately, despite the tragedy, my father's body was relatively intact, as inferred from the mission details disclosed by the ANBU.
A few days ago, along the eastern coastline of the Land of Fire, several forward observation points had been breached by an unknown enemy. However, the enemy had not occupied these posts. Instead, they had used this breach to infiltrate deeper into the port area of the Land of Fire's coastline.
The mission of my father's team had been to investigate these hidden enemies. At first, the investigation had gone smoothly, and based on the intelligence they had sent back, the culprits were identified as the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist.
However, the withdrawal had not gone as planned. The enemy had appeared to have anticipated the investigators and deliberately lured them into a trap. When the investigation team discovered the enemy, they themselves had already been detected.
The Seven Ninja Swordsmen were composed of seven elite jonin, each wielding a unique blade with special abilities. It was said that when the seven acted together, they could destroy a small nation overnight.
Facing such opponents, it had already been remarkable that the investigation team managed to send intelligence back to the village.
After all, among the team, only my father and Homura had had the strength of elite jonin. The other six members had included four genin.
Moreover, the enemy had prepared thoroughly at the port. When the investigation team encountered them, only Biwa Jūzō, Suikazan Fuguki, and Kuriarare Kushimaru had revealed themselves, while the other three members of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen had lain in ambush outside port. The team had been caught in a pincer attack, and naturally, the odds of survival had tilted in favor of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen.
I did not know the specific details of the battle, but one could imagine how dire the situation must have been against such formidable foes.
Under the desperate cover of my father and the other five ninjas, Homura and another jonin from the Aburame clan had managed to bring the intelligence back to Konoha.
And Konoha had responded swiftly. The Third Hokage, Sarutobi Hiruzen, had immediately dispatched Jiraiya to lead a team to the port for a counterattack mission.
However, the team had found nothing upon arrival. The Seven Ninja Swordsmen had already retreated. As elite jonin, their movements had been exceptionally agile. They had retraced their steps back to the coastline they initially breached, tracked by an Inuzuka jonin.
It had been evident that this was a baiting operation by Kiri. Using the overwhelming strength and mobility of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, they had achieved their objectives with a decisive strike and then retreated quickly back to Kiri.
This had also served to tie down some of Konoha's higher-level combat power. After all, upon learning that the enemy was the Seven Ninja Swordsmen, Konoha could not afford to send weaker ninjas.
In truth, the Seven Ninja Swordsmen had been fortunate. Had their retreat been slightly slower, they would have been caught by Jiraiya's pursuit, and it would have been inevitable for their ranks to lose a few members.
Now dressed in my black mourning suit, I stood watching Father's now-buried body.
"They died protecting the village..." a young widow whispered nearby.
"They all did their duty..." another parent murmured.
These practiced consolations—they had become a script in Konoha. We were all actors in this damn tragedy.
Around me, there were other families of the fallen ninjas. Some children, like me, could not suppress their sobs, though we tried hard not to make any noise.
Despite all my mental preparation, despite knowing this could happen, I couldn't stop my tears. Looking at Father's body just... hit different.
So this is what it feels like to lose both parents twice in one lifetime.
Now it was really final. He was gone. My father was really gone.
All my adult rationality couldn't stop my child body's response to loss, and maybe that was okay. Maybe that was how it should be.
The Third Hokage attended the funeral and led the ceremony for the fallen ninjas. His presence suggested higher political implications—the Seven Swordsmen attacking our shores would escalate the war further.
"Where the leaves dance, the fire burns brightly. The fire will continue to illuminate the village and cause new leaves to sprout."
It was my first time hearing these words directly from the Hokage, but I felt nothing in particular. However, the expressions of the other attendees brightened noticeably.
This world of endless wars... people's spiritual worlds must be truly empty. With this thought, I felt like the ninja villages was nothing more than a massive pyramid scheme.
After the funeral, I walked home, recalling the man at the ceremony wearing the Uchiha clan emblem on his back. The way he stood apart from others caught my attention—not just grief, but guilt seemed to weigh on his shoulders.
He must have been Homura, my father's friend. I had originally intended to thank him after the funeral, especially for bringing back such valuable information.
However, the man had not seemed inclined to speak with me and had left before the funeral even ended.
When I arrived at the door of my home and was about to open it, the door opened from the inside. Startled, I instinctively prepared to leap back and create some distance.
"Don't be alarmed, it's me."
He stepped out of the doorway, speaking calmly as he looked at my seemingly frightened expression.
I was utterly confused. While infiltration was a basic skill for ninjas, he had just opened the door from the inside.
I had thought that Homura and Father shared an extraordinary bond, possibly teammates since graduation. But I hadn't expected that he would even have a copy of my house key.
I distinctly remembered locking the door before leaving.
"Homura-san... I didn't expect—" I began, but he cut me off.
"Your father spoke often of your... maturity," he said, his eyes studying me intently.
"He mentioned you as well," I replied carefully. "His most trusted friend."
"Friend... yes." Homura's gaze sharpened. "And now I have a duty to fulfill."
As I was pondering this, I glanced at him and was about to invite him in for a proper visit. However, as I looked, Homura's eyes changed.
His black pupils morphed into three rotating tomoe, which quickly transformed into three interconnected, droplet-shaped patterns.
I was shocked to my core. What puzzled me even more was why he would show me those eyes. But soon, I stopped wondering.
Everything was blurring.
A short while later, I woke up.
When did I fell asleep?
Looking around, I muttered to myself, "I came home after the funeral... At the door, I ran into my father's teammate. Wait... How did I pass out?"
Suddenly, the long-dormant system interface appeared, and the notification panel had been updated.
[Name: Aotsuki Ryouma]
[Skills: Chakra Molding, Substitution Jutsu, Transfer Seal - Ōtoshi (One-time Use)]
[Mail: No New Messages]
I was stunned. How had I suddenly acquired two new skills—and why was one of them a single-use ability?
I was familiar with transfer seals—they were advanced sealing techniques that stored a jutsu in an object or person and automatically released it when certain conditions were met.
In the series, Itachi had sealed Amaterasu into Sasuke's eyes. Considering that the last person I had seen before passing out was Homura, a simple deduction clarified things.
The so-called Ōtoshi must have been Homura's Mangekyō Sharingan ability. Could it be that he had awakened his Mangekyō because of my father's death?
It seemed I had underestimated the bond between them.
Thinking this, I opened the description of [Transfer Seal - Ōtoshi].
[Transfer Seal - Ōtoshi: When the you receive fatal damage, time will reverse, restoring your body to its state 24 hours prior.]
A technique that breaks the rules of death itself... What did father promise to earn this?
I was stunned. I had suspected that this jutsu had something to do with time manipulation, given its name.
After all, in Japanese mythology, Ōtoshi-no-Kami was the deity who governed the flow of time itself, ruling over its passage and the changing of seasons.
But I hadn't expected its effect to be this powerful—essentially a miniaturized version of Izanagi.
Looks like Homura was worried about my safety, so he came specifically to set up this insurance for me.
Thinking this, I suddenly felt guilty.
People who hadn't reincarnated might not understand this kind of emotion.
I wasn't truly my father's child—just an imposter from Earth. Even in the face of Mother and Father's deaths, I had only been trying to console myself.
Yet I had accepted so much from my new mother in this life. I had always told myself that, as a child, I had no choice but to accept these things.
But this time, I didn't want to make excuses for my indifference anymore. I wanted to do something.
I'd been viewing this world through the lens of a reader, treating these people as characters. But their blood, their sacrifices—they were real.
Chisato and Ken, they were my family.
At the very least, I needed to grow stronger and find a way to avenge them against the Seven Ninja Swordsmen and Kiri.
This should be, no, this was my duty as their son.