The sun had risen high over Konoha, casting long shadows as the village carried on with its daily rhythm. Shinobi moved between missions, civilians bustled about their business, and children ran through the streets, their laughter filling the air. But amidst the lively energy, there was an underlying awareness—one that came from the watchful eyes trained on a single man.
Renzo had long since noticed them.
He had felt their gaze since the moment he entered Konoha. Even now, as he strolled through the village, taking in its unique spirit, the sensation did not waver. ANBU, hidden but ever-present. Tobirama's students, observing from a distance. The Second Hokage himself, no doubt keeping an even closer watch.
It was only a matter of time before they met.
And so, when he reached the quieter outskirts of the village, where the trees thickened and the air grew still, Renzo finally came to a halt.
He was no longer alone.
"You've been watching since I arrived," Renzo said calmly, without turning. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
A figure stepped out from the trees, white-haired and clad in the traditional armor of the Senju. His red eyes were sharp, filled with calculation rather than hostility.
Tobirama Senju did not waste time with pleasantries.
"What is your purpose here?"
Renzo finally turned to face him, his golden eyes meeting Tobirama's gaze with the same serene certainty he had carried throughout his travels.
"I walk," he answered.
Tobirama's frown deepened slightly. "That is not an answer."
"It is the only one I have."
A moment of silence stretched between them. The wind rustled through the trees, but neither man moved. There was no battle of killing intent, no tension of potential combat—only an unspoken understanding between two individuals who saw the world in their way.
Tobirama crossed his arms. "You have traveled to all the great villages. Watched, observed, and left. Yet you remain in Konoha. Why?"
Renzo looked past Tobirama for a moment, toward the heart of the village. His voice was quiet when he spoke.
"This village is different."
Tobirama studied him. "How so?"
Renzo's gaze returned to him. "The others build power. This one builds something more."
Tobirama's expression remained unreadable, but his mind was working. He had seen many men come and go—warriors, wanderers, sages, and fools. But Renzo was something else. Something unknown.
"And you?" Tobirama asked. "What do you build?"
Renzo did not answer immediately. He looked up, watching the leaves sway gently in the breeze.
"I do not build," he said at last. "I understand."
Tobirama's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then what have you understood?"
Renzo met his gaze once more, and for a brief moment, there was something in his golden eyes—something ancient, something vast.
"That the storm does not choose who it touches," he said. "Only those who learn to stand remain."
Tobirama exhaled through his nose. "A poetic way to avoid my question."
Renzo chuckled, a rare sound. "Perhaps."
Tobirama studied him for another moment before finally speaking again. "I do not trust wanderers. But my brother sees something in you."
Renzo's expression remained the same, unreadable as ever. "Your brother sees what he wishes to see."
Tobirama's lips pressed into a thin line. "And what do you see?"
Renzo's answer was simple.
"A man who carries the weight of a village on his back."
Tobirama's expression shifted for the first time—not in surprise, but in something akin to acknowledgment.
He said nothing for a long while. Then, finally, he spoke.
"Do not mistake Konoha's kindness for weakness."
Renzo inclined his head slightly. "I do not."
Tobirama let out a quiet breath before turning away. "You may remain, but understand this: I will be watching."
Renzo said nothing, only offering a small nod as the Second Hokage disappeared into the forest, leaving him alone once more.
The wind carried on, rustling the leaves, whispering through the trees.
Renzo closed his eyes for a brief moment.
Konoha truly is different.