Konoha’s Five-Element Ninja

Chapter Eighteen: Observations in the Village

Feeling helpless, Hayama dutifully peeled one apple and five oranges under his mother's watchful eye. With the guests happily eating the fruit, the hospital room was filled with laughter and lively chatter.

Seeing his mother so animated warmed Hayama's heart. Ever since his father passed away, such smiles had been a rare sight. Although Chika's earlier comments could have been misinterpreted, Hayama decided not to dwell on them. His plan was to get all the necessary documents processed quickly and wrap up this awkward arrangement. But then his mother's next question caused his heart to sink.

"Chika is staying at our house?"

"Yes, Auntie," Chika answered sweetly, her polite and cheerful tone making Hayama's mother smile even more.

"And Hayama's living elsewhere?"

"No, he's staying there too. It's not like the house is too small," Chika replied innocently.

His mother's expression grew more serious. "This arrangement doesn't seem appropriate, does it?"

Chika, ever considerate, carefully picked off the white fibers from the orange before offering it to Hayama's mother. She accepted it eagerly, feeling it was the sweetest orange she'd ever tasted.

"It's not inappropriate at all. Hayama promised I could stay temporarily."

"Temporarily?" Hayama's mother paused, her expression darkening slightly.

"Yes, just until he finishes sorting out my paperwork. After that, I'll move out and find a place to rent," Chika explained.

"What kind of paperwork?" his mother pressed.

"Just my residential permit. I'm from the Land of Frost," Chika admitted, her voice trembling slightly. Her eyes grew misty, and soon she was softly weeping. "My parents died when I was little. I was raised by my grandfather, but for… certain reasons, he doesn't qualify for a permit. It's just me trying to settle here."

Her tearful account and the sight of her childlike innocence tugged at Hayama's mother's heartstrings. She sat up straighter, her earlier doubts evaporating. Wrapping Chika in a warm embrace, she gently patted her head, murmuring comforting words.

Once Chika had calmed down, Hayama's mother turned to him with a firm resolve. "Chika will stay with us—no need for her to go anywhere else. And you," she continued, her tone sharpening, "you always talk about how capable you are. Find a way to bring her grandfather here. It's too dangerous for an old man to live alone out there."

Hayama was stunned. "It's not dangerous at all—"

"Enough excuses," his mother snapped, cutting him off. Her knowing look made it clear she wouldn't accept empty promises.

"You're right, Auntie," one of the onlookers chimed in. "Nowadays, it's much safer living in the village. Don't you think, Hayama?"

"Exactly! My son's friend's cousin works at the Hokage's office. He can help with the paperwork. Hayama, you should talk to him," another guest suggested.

The crowd's enthusiastic agreement left Hayama feeling overwhelmed. Glancing at Chika's now-angelic face, he was consumed by a mixture of frustration and helplessness.

She had won over his mother's affection in no time, securing not just a temporary stay but a seemingly permanent spot in the family. Hayama could only sigh inwardly. I'm an idiot, he thought, realizing too late the trouble he had invited into his life.

…

After a tense yet heartwarming lunch with his mother, Hayama led Chika back home. His mother's wistful farewell only added to his guilt as he started preparing a room for his new "houseguest."

Chika, unfazed by the slight mustiness in the house, cheerfully explored every nook and cranny. As she hummed a familiar tune from the Land of Frost, her infectious energy made the dreary task of cleaning feel less burdensome. While Hayama focused on his chores, he couldn't shake the odd feeling of having her around. Nonetheless, he said nothing and continued his work.

By evening, the house was tidy, and Hayama handed Chika some spending money. He also gave her strict instructions on which areas to avoid before changing clothes and heading out.

Chika pouted slightly at being left behind, but her disappointment soon turned to contentment as she resumed her humming, her voice filling the now-cozy home.

…

Hayama found himself at a barbecue restaurant. Once he had secured a private booth, he sat in silence, lost in thought. A short while later, the door slid open, and a young man with a worn look stepped in. Despite his youth, his empty left sleeve hinted at a difficult past.

"Hey, you're early. Have you ordered yet?" the newcomer asked casually, settling into a seat.

Hayama offered a genuine smile as he poured water for his guest. "Nope. I'll let you order this time. Just don't get any alcohol. I don't want your wife blaming me."

The man chuckled bitterly. "Let's not talk about her right now. It'll ruin my appetite. How have you been?"

"Same as always. But you, you look like you've lost weight. Don't tell me the Hokage's office has cut back on food allowances," Hayama teased.

"Nah, I've just been on a diet. Trying to get back in shape. Maybe have a kid," the man replied, his tone lighter now.

"Best of luck," Hayama said sincerely, though a trace of humor remained.

This was Yamahira Shinji, one of Hayama's few close friends still alive. Once a promising squad leader, Shinji had lost his arm during a covert mission. Refusing retirement, he transitioned to a desk job and now worked at the pigeon courier office, looking after the village's communication network.

Their familiarity allowed them to exchange light banter. But soon, their conversation shifted to more serious matters.

"So you really managed to make it back alive from the Land of Rain," Shinji said, his tone carrying both disbelief and relief.

"Luck had nothing to do with it," Hayama replied, his confidence tempered by an undercurrent of gratitude.

Shinji smirked. "Well, whatever the case, I'm glad you made it. I'd hate to see your name on the Memorial Stone." Then, his voice grew quieter. "But things in the village have been… complicated lately."

Hayama leaned in slightly as Shinji began to share the latest gossip. The upcoming joint operation between the Senju and Uchiha clans in the Land of Rain was a hot topic. Shinji's insights into the political maneuvering and power struggles painted a grim picture.

As Shinji recounted recent events, Hayama quietly pondered the implications. The Hokage's power plays, the diminishing influence of the great clans, and the formation of the Root division all pointed to one thing: Sarutobi Hiruzen was consolidating his control. The village's once-shared governance was gradually giving way to centralized authority, and the stakes had never been higher.

Their conversation was interrupted when the server brought the food. Hayama picked up a piece of marinated beef, placing it on the hot grill. The sizzling sound and rising aroma momentarily grounded him in the simple pleasure of a shared meal. Yet behind his calm demeanor, his thoughts churned. How would the village's future unfold amidst these shifting tides of power? And what would become of those caught in the crossfire?

As the meal ended, Hayama left the restaurant with a box of sweets for his mother. Walking back to the hospital under the dim glow of streetlights, he reflected on what Shinji had told him. In the end, Hayama could only shake his head at the relentless game of politics within the village. While he was no stranger to the battlefield, the quiet machinations of those in power felt infinitely more dangerous.

It seemed that, in Konoha, the real battles were not fought with kunai and jutsu but with whispers and decrees.