Reaching into his back pocket, Kenka fished out his wallet and began digging through the soft leather folds. His fingers brushed against the weight of a small mountain of ryo, shifting through the bills until they landed on the cool metallic edge of his house key.
With a flick of his wrist, he pulled the key free and stuffed the wallet back into his lower pocket. The key slid easily into the lock, and with a subtle click, the door to his home swung open.
The comforting scent of home greeted him instantly—fresh cooking and warm oil. The sound of gentle humming floated from the kitchen, a soft tune interspersed with the crackling of onions sizzling in a pan. His mother's voice.
In that single moment, all of the tension that had built up inside him over the last month drained from his body. His shoulders dropped. His muscles uncoiled. His eyes stung, beginning to water without permission.
It had only been a month, but so much had happened. So much death. So much burden. He hadn't realized just how much it weighed on him until now.
Wandering silently into the living room, Kenka slumped into a chair, letting his body melt into the cushions. He sat there, collecting himself, eyes fixed on nothing. 'For my mother's sake I need to act as if everything is alright. I can't let her worry about me. These memories I've inherited prevent me from wanting her to feel any pain or troubles.'
Steeling himself, he stood up and made his way quietly toward the kitchen. The couch sat to the right, and just ahead was the small kitchen space where his mother moved gracefully around the stovetop.
Without a word, Kenka snuck up behind her and placed his hands gently on her shoulders.
She jolted, letting out a startled gasp and spinning around in surprise. Her eyes locked onto his face, wide with fear at first—then recognition. The transformation was instant.
"K-Kenka… Dear!" she cried, her voice cracking as she rushed forward, enveloping him in her arms. "I was so worried about you!" Her grip tightened as she broke down into sobs, holding onto him like she never wanted to let go.
Kenka smiled warmly. He wrapped his arms around her in return, letting himself fall into her embrace. It had been too long since he'd felt the gentle, affectionate touch of someone who wasn't trying to kill him. He hadn't known how much he'd needed this.
After what felt like forever, she finally released him, stepping back with tearful eyes as she inspected his face with trembling hands. When she found no immediate injuries, she leaned in and kissed his cheek.
"Tell me everything, dear!" she said, already dragging him by the wrist toward the couch.
"But the food—" Kenka protested, gesturing weakly to the stove.
"Forget the food!" she snapped, still teary-eyed.
Kenka sighed, slumping down on the couch beside her. For the next hour, he told her everything—about the war, his missions, the people he'd met and lost. He left out the most gruesome parts, the blood and screams and death. But even with those pieces missing, his story made her cry again and again, especially when he spoke of the teammates she had cooked for, laughed with, welcomed into their home.
'I wish I could leave the death of my team out, but it isn't something that can be just ignored. It would've eventually come out. That being said, I need to make rounds to the homes of my team members, as I'm the only one who is aware of their death…'
Still slouched on the couch, staring up at the ceiling while his mother sobbed quietly beside him, Kenka took a slow breath and cleared his throat.
"Mom…" he said, lowering his head to look her in the eyes. But she was still looking down, her tears staining her dress.
"Mom!" he repeated, raising his voice slightly.
She finally looked up, sniffling. "Y-yes… dear…?"
His face hardened with irritation. He didn't want to say it, but he had no choice. "I'm heading out for war again, tomorrow, as per Hokage's orders."
The words shattered what little calm she had left.
She exploded into a rage, shouting about how she was going to visit the Hokage herself, waving her arms in fury. At one point she even stormed into the kitchen and came back with a knife, claiming she would go with him if that's what it took to keep him safe.
It took a long time to calm her down, but eventually the fire in her eyes dimmed and she sat back down, breathing heavily.
Once she was stable again, Kenka kissed her forehead and slipped away from the house. There was one more duty he had to fulfill before he could rest.
His first stop was the Hyuga compound.
The moon was high, casting a pale light over the otherwise quiet district. The compound gates were locked—it was late—but Kenka didn't have time to wait until morning. Without hesitation, he climbed the wall and dropped down inside.
He walked with practiced steps to his teammate Ayame's house. Reaching the door, he knocked softly and waited.
Several locks clicked on the other side of the door, followed by the slow creak of it opening.
An elderly man stood there, his milky white eyes blinking groggily at the visitor. He was dressed in black robes and leaned on a cane for support.
"Kenka…?" the old man asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"It's me, Gramps. Could I come in?" Kenka replied.
The man stepped aside silently. Kenka entered and sat at the dining table. The lights flicked on.
The old man joined him, his eyes calm but curious. "What's the matter, son? What brings you here at this time?"
Kenka lowered his gaze, clasping his hands on the table. "Well… There's no easy way to say this…"
The old man stood and placed a firm hand on Kenka's shoulder. "It's better you don't say it then. Have you met with Hiro's family yet?"
Kenka looked up. "No, not yet."
"Then get going," the old man said gently. "I assure you I'll take the information easier than they can. It's best that you save your energy for them."
Kenka stood and gave a deep bow. As he reached for the door, he paused. "I'm sorry," he said.
And then he vanished, flickering away into the night.
Later that evening, he arrived at the Aburame clan residence. The silence there was heavier. Cold.
When Hiro's parents heard the news, their reaction was nothing like the old man's. They broke down completely. Their tears fell fast, their sobs echoing through the halls.
Kenka apologized again. Once more, there were no words that could fix anything. Nothing to make it better.
He turned away and left, the door quietly closing behind him as he disappeared into the dark streets of Konoha.