The golden light of spring spilled across the low stone walls that, along with the cliffs, encircled the entire Hidden Leaf Village. At the village gate—an enormous structure forged of reinforced iron—a line of ninja returning from the battlefield had gathered.
Their boots were caked in dried mud, and bloodstained bandages wrapped around their limbs. The air around them was cold, sharp, and intimidating. Yet behind the chilling aura, their eyes shimmered with a softer light—of longing, and of familiarity.
Gazing dazedly at the village entrance he knew so well, Uchiha Itachi's black eyes reflected the gates of Konoha. His heart was filled with complex emotions.
It had only been a few months since he'd stepped onto the battlefield that winter, and now, in the early summer, he was back.
He had gone to war alongside his father to learn—but in truth, he hadn't learned much. During every major conflict, he had been left at the rear, waiting for battles to end.
And when he did get a chance to observe, his dynamic vision still wasn't fast enough to follow the movements of veteran shinobi.
He saw the start of battles and their conclusions—but never the process. That meant he lost his best opportunities to grow.
Still, despite all that, the war had left a deep impression on him.
For example…
The weight one feels when carrying something that cannot be dropped.
"Hiemon, Uchiha Hane—after we enter the village, both of you report to the Hokage Tower with me for a mission debrief."
At the front of the group, Uchiha Fugaku turned to the two older-looking jōnin in the squad. "The rest of you—return to the clan compound. Stay out of trouble."
His final words were spoken with particular gravity.
"Yes, sir!"
The Uchiha replied in unison.
Joy. Eagerness. Relief. Grief. Calm...
Itachi could hear countless emotions layered within that single reply.
And his own heart was in turmoil.
When he had first left home, he hadn't felt anything in particular. But now that home was within sight... he realized just how much he'd missed it.
His mother was still there, waiting.
At the thought of her, Itachi's eyes instinctively drifted to the figure at the front of the group—his father.
After Uchiha Tera's death, Fugaku had assumed command as acting field leader. As a result, he hadn't stayed by Itachi's side like before. Instead, he had arranged for Itachi to travel with Uchiha Hikaru.
The two of them had barely exchanged any words along the way.
Itachi couldn't shake the feeling that his father was angry with him.
Angry that his hesitation had delayed the counterattack.
Angry that, because of him, an old friend had died.
There was no time to linger at the village gate and block others' passage.
After a quick check-in with the gate guards to confirm their identities, Fugaku led the group forward. Together, they stepped across the threshold and into Konoha.
This time, they weren't marching with military urgency. Instead, the entire squad slowed, moving leisurely down the main avenue toward the heart of the village.
Walking among them, Itachi felt countless gazes fall on them from both sides of the street.
Admiration. Aspiration. Excitement...
These were emotions he hadn't noticed when they first departed for war.
Was it because they had fought for the village, for the Land of Fire, that they now received such respect upon their return?
Maybe now, he was beginning to understand what people meant when they spoke of honor.
"…So this is Konoha?"
A curious voice sounded at his side.
Artoria's figure appeared beside him. Her sharp eyes swept across the surroundings as she smiled and commented, "Compared to the capital of Britain, the Hidden Leaf is rather modest."
"But this feeling—of being watched and welcomed—it reminds me of the times when I returned victorious from the frontlines. My people would bow in reverence as I passed."
"Itachi, do you feel it? This sense of honor... do you long for it?"
Clad in her blue and white light armor, she walked beside him with perfect posture, exuding confidence and pride in every gesture.
This version of Artoria caught Itachi off guard—but he took careful note of her transformation.
On the battlefield, she had been King Arthur—stoic, regal, unshaken by sacrifice or slaughter. Her gaze and bearing never changed. Not even the heat of war could stir her frozen heart.
At that time, she had seemed almost inhuman—like a machine designed solely to calculate profit and loss.
But now... this was someone different.
Now she seemed more like the "Knight King" that appeared in the memories he'd inherited.
She felt emotion. She expressed pride. She smiled at recognition and basked in others' admiration.
Perhaps this was who she had once been—before she abandoned the honor of a knight in exchange for the duties of a king.
Itachi could only guess.
Back in the village, surrounded by civilians, he could observe this mysterious sovereign far more freely than on the battlefield—without worrying someone would think he was hallucinating under genjutsu.
To her question, he responded with a thought.
"Ninja are a profession built on efficiency," he explained silently.
"Compared to comfort or aesthetics, our buildings prioritize utility—whatever best facilitates shinobi movement. If you're looking for splendor in the Land of Fire, perhaps the daimyō's palace would be more suitable."
"As for honor… I felt a little bit of it. Just a bit."
"Only a little?" Artoria looked a touch disappointed. "That's fine. I believe one day, you'll understand what it means to have a country—and what it means to fight for it."
She turned her gaze toward the street again.
"Buildings focused on utility, hmm? I see... with chakra, your shinobi can easily move across these low rooftops. That would make quick gatherings and surprise battles far more manageable."
"But judging from the people's clothing and behavior, your culture doesn't seem to place much emphasis on formality or etiquette. That makes it difficult to preserve class divisions—but it does make the village feel more relaxed, more alive."
"Wait… hot springs, gambling dens, arcades, barbecue joints…?"
Artoria blinked, scanning storefronts one after another. "Konoha puts serious effort into entertainment. Is it to help ninja unwind between missions? What an unorthodox, yet fascinating system of governance…"
As they walked, she continued making observations—linking what she saw with what she gleaned from Itachi's memories of the village.
When she learned that Konoha even had schools specifically built to educate and train ninja, her amazement grew.
And as she spoke, Itachi couldn't help but recall what she had once told him about Britain.
In her homeland, knowledge and books were hoarded by the nobility. They were private property.
Only the children of aristocrats had access to education.
For the poor, for commoners, education was a dream granted only by luck—through a noble's favor, or through valor in times of war.
That meant as long as the wealthy didn't make mistakes or offend someone more powerful, they could remain wealthy forever. And those without power or opportunity… would remain powerless for life.
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Hey everyone! I'll be dropping an extra 1 chapter once we hit 200, 400 power stones! If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to spend some power stones. I'd really appreciate the support. Thanks a bunch!