Team-9 waited until all the pyres were extinguished before deciding to leave the funeral site.

Takuma stared at the smoke in the sky and wondered about this world's afterlife. He vaguely remembered that there was a definite afterlife, but its specifics evaded him. He prayed it was peaceful so that Rikku would be comfortable and happy wherever she was.

"Alright, let's go and get drunk," Anko said as she wrapped her hand around Kameko's shoulder.

"You guys go ahead," Takuma said to the team. "I'm going to see Motohiro."

Motohiro's group had been captured and tortured because of their connection to him. He had received the news about their release and subsequent medical treatment for their injuries after the siege. The least he could do was to go check on them and see how they were doing since he was partially responsible for what happened to them.

"I'll come with you if you don't mind," said Daiki.

"Will you? Sure, that'd be great."

"Then let's go meet them as a team and then go drink at the end," said Anko.

"Yeah, let's do that," Takuma nodded with a small smile.

As the team walked away from the funeral site, Daiki started speaking.

"You know, Rikku had me maintain my gear every other week. Even if I hadn't used anything, she forced me to do it anyway. She made me clean the pouches, re-wrap the handles of the kunai, check all the tags for tears, inspect every inch of the rope for any faults—the works," Daiki said as he remembered the memories with a smile. "She said it was about creating a habit—that once I got used to doing it, it would become easier until I would get uncomfortable if I didn't do it—and that's what happened," by the end his smile, he had a hint of sadness in it.

Takuma silently chuckled as he recalled his first meeting with Rikku. He thought she was needlessly picking up a fight with him as part of some kind of hazing ritual. In truth, she wanted to know him better and decided that a blunt challenge to spar would be the best way to do it. In hindsight, it was probably the best way she could get to know him; there was a lot to discover about a person in their fighting style—she could've done a better job communicating her intentions, but then it wouldn't have been Rikku.

Takuma started to smile as he recounted the story of their first meeting. "The first time I met her was—"

He suddenly stopped walking, confusing the rest of the team. They looked at him to see that he was looking at something—and when they followed his line of sight, they found Gaku talking with some Steam shinobi.

"Takuma, no... Takuma, leave it!" Anko said immediately when she saw the hint of a smile that had just come on Takuma's face slip away and slowly be replaced with a look of mean-eyed rage.

Takuma didn't hear Anko and began walking briskly toward Gaku. His breath harshened with every step toward Gaku as he felt a head of steam build up. The sight of Gaku smiling and laughing with the Steam shinobi made him grit his teeth and walk faster. Anko rushed to him and put her hand on his shoulder to stop him, but Takuma harshly shrugged her off and continued onward faster than before.

Gaku had his back to Takuma and turned around when the people he was conversing with pointed behind him. Takuma charged his arm and fist with chakra—and the moment Gaku turned, he drilled his fist square into his face. Gaku flew metres in the air, tumbling a few metres away after colliding against the ground.

"Fuck... YOU!" Takuma yelled through the pain as he clutched his hand close to his body, having reopened the large wound in his hand. "You fucking coward—traitorous piece of shit!"

"Hey, what the fuck are you doing?" One of the Steam shinobi pushed Takuma hard enough that he almost stumbled to the ground.

"Hey, don't touch him! " Anko ran forward and pushed the Steam shinobi back. "Keep your fucking hands off of him!"

"Oh yeah, what are you going to do about it, huh?"

Anko scoffed and stepped close to the Steam shinobi, and snarled. "I can do a whole lot worse than you can even imagine, buddy. You don't want what I have."

The Leaf and Steam shinobi around them heard the commotion and shouting and began to gather. In an instant, the ruckus grew into a full-on confrontation between the two shinobi groups, who were ready to fight each other. All of them were emotionally charged after the funeral, and the spark created by Takuma exploded into a forest wildfire.

Takuma didn't register what the others were doing and had his attention locked in on Gaku, who got up on shaky footing and spat out a couple of teeth with blood. He looked up at Takuma with a heavy frown as he wiped the blood on his lips

"What are you looking at, bitch?! You want to fight?!" Takuma screamed at him with liquid fury. "You don't want to fight a real shinobi... I don't fight below my level, so go fight civilian women and children; that'd be more your style."

"You think you're a real shinobi, little boy?" Gaku said as he walked toward him.

"Oh, I'm a real shinobi." Takuma laughed as if it was the joke of the century. "You're not a shinobi—you're a pimp. Letting the civilian woman do all the work, and when it came time to do something, you fucking ran with that impotent noodle between your legs! You're not even a real man, you fuck! What kind of man hides when it's time to free his city from the enemy? Fucking traitor!" said Takuma before spitting on the ground.

"Shut your mouth before I break your jaw," Gaku snarled.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"I'll cut out your tongue so I don't have to hear that god awful, ugly voice of yours. I hope you choke on your cigarettes!" Takuma shouted, and a kunai slipped into his hand before he dashed toward Gaku but was immediately pulled back and off the ground by Daiki, who grabbed him by the underarms. "Fucking let me go! She would've been alive if not for that bastard! LET ME GO!"

He even tried to throw the kunai, but Daiki had his arms locked down.

"Yeah, you better hold him," Gaku yelled back.

"Come get me, traitor! I can take you like this, you pussy!" Takuma challenged even as he was being restrained by Daiki.

Tension between the two sides continued to rise, and it got right to the tipping point before a full-on group brawl broke out. The words being exchanged were becoming increasingly heated and the level-headed people who tried to calm things down were drowned out by the words thrown by both sides.

And then it happened.

Someone hit someone who hit back, and that spurred a chain reaction with more and more fights breaking out between emotionally charged shinobi. But before it could truly get out of hand, a chakra-laced voice ripped through the brawling group, forcing them to a screeching halt.

"ENOUGH"

Those who needed more than words felt a faint strain of bloody, murderous intent brush against them. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked to the source to find Toridasu and a Steam jonin glaring at the two groups with anger and disappointment.

———

.

"At a funeral?"

Takuma stood there with all the Leaf shinobi involved in the near all-out brawl with his head bowed as he listened to Toridasu, who was uncharacteristically angry. He was snarky, unreasonable, and overbearing—but he was almost never angry—that emotion seemed to be below him.

"You fight like drunkards in a bar brawl... at a funeral?" Toridasu sneered with anger. "Do you have no respect for the dead? They gave their life, and you mock them by acting like hooligans? Why did you even come to the funeral if you were going to act like this?"

Of course, no one came to the funeral to start a fight, but that was by no means proper to say in the moment. They could only stay silent and listen to their jonin-in-command berate them like they were idiot children. Shirakumo was also present, but he stood behind Toridasu and hadn't spoken a word—which was worse in many ways.

Toridasu turned to Takuma with a furious look, but his expression softened for a moment as he sighed. He shook his head and addressed the group, but Takuma felt that he was speaking specifically to him.

"I know all of you are raw and emotional after the losses, but you are shinobi—grow up and learn to face your emotions like adults," Toridasu said sternly before walking away as though utterly disappointed with them.

Just when everyone thought it was over and relaxed their postures, Shirakumo stepped forward and said his part, which made everyone want to groan. "Everyone here will put in two extra shifts with the clean-up and construction crew. And I agree with Jonin Toridasu—you're all responsible adults; fighting at a funeral was disgraceful, and you need to reflect on your behaviour... Dismissed."

Everyone waited until both jonin were well out of earshot before relaxing as a wave of groaning and annoyed whispers spread out. The general reception of the incident was while what they did was indeed disrespectful to the dead; they didn't regret it.

"It shouldn't have happened, but if I see my teammate in a fight, I'm going to back them," Anko said with her arms crossed. She sighed and patted Takuma on his shoulder. "Postpone that meeting with Motohiro’s lot. I need that drink now."

Takuma nodded. His mood was in the shitter, and even though he didn't drink, he could go for a smoke. Fortunately, his emergency-emergency stash was unopened.

———

.

Takuma knocked on the door of a personal room in the city hospital. Inside, sitting on a bed, was a badly injured, fully bandaged Motohiro. Half of his face was bandaged and stained with yellow medicine, one of his eyes was completely covered with gauze, and there was an ugly cut on his swollen lips. His interrogators had done a number on him.

"Come in," said Motohiro when he saw Takuma and tried to sit up straighter, causing his face to twist in pain.

"Relax, you don't need to sit up," said Takuma as he walked inside. He was alone and had come without the team, even though they had offered to come with him the day before. "How are you?"

"As you can see," Motohiro said weakly after falling back down onto his pillow. "Take a seat."

"Family?" asked Takuma as he pulled out a stool from beneath the bed.

"Another room."

The Steam shinobi had picked up everyone remotely related to Motohiro to interrogate.

"I see... Sorry, I came empty-handed."

A hint of a smile cracked Motohiro's face before it went away quickly as his expression creased from the pain.

There was a silent pause in the room as the two men stared at each other. They were two very different people, their lives drastically far apart from each other, but for the past couple of months, they had been working towards the same goal of freeing the city from its oppressors.

For one, it was getting his home back and the life he and others had before; for the other, it was simply a mission as part of his job. But they both had suffered, sacrificed, and lost to achieve their goal—and that's what they had in common.

"Hey—"

"Listen—"

Both of them spoke at the same time and stopped to give the other the chance to speak.

"You go first," said Motohiro.

Takuma nodded and took a moment to compile his thoughts. He wet his lips before starting, "I'm sorry... You, your family, your friends, your employees—they all suffered terrible things because of me. I can't help but feel terrible about what all of you had to go through. Civilians shouldn't be involved in fights between shinobi"

The memory of the sound of an explosion ripping through the banquet hall echoed in his mind.

"And you ended up getting dragged into a situation you shouldn't have been in. For that, I apologise from the bottom of my heart."

Takuma got up and bowed deeply to Motohiro, staying in this position until Motohiro asked him to stand up.

"Thank you," Motohiro said with a smile.

Takuma was taken aback.

It had been three days since the battle had ended, and even though Takuma had been a big contributor in saving the city, it was the first time Takuma had been thanked. He and the team had been praised by Toridasu for completing the mission—he had been heavily reprimanded by Shirakumo for what he did at the banquet to take out the jonin—but he hadn't been thanked for anything yet.

"You saved my home." Motohiro continued, "You saved my children's future. I don't know what environment they would've grown up in if the city was still under the enemy's control. You made sure that my children—all of Yu's children—would grow up in a free place where they could be anything they wanted without any fear. You shed sweat and blood for a place that's not even in your country; I can't see myself doing that..."

"I'm a shinobi for hire. It's my job," said Takuma.

"I don't care." Motohiro coughed a little. "You worked very hard; I don't know very many people who would work this hard for a mere job... So, I will say it again on behalf of my children, my family, and the city of Yu—thank you for saving us all."

Takuma clenched his uninjured fist as goosebumps rose up on his body. He didn't recognise what he was feeling, but it filled him to an almost uncomfortable level and he was deeply disturbed by it.

He knew why he worked so hard on the mission, and it wasn't because he cared about the people of Yu. He worked hard to further his career, but seeing the man who had been dangerously running a rebellious group under the remorseless rule of shinobi while taking care of so many needful people—seeing that man thanking him felt wrong.

He didn't deserve the gratitude.

But he couldn't say any of that when he saw the sincerity in Motohiro's eyes. Takuma stood up straighter and once again bowed deeply to Motohiro, a man who was a far better human being than he could ever be.