Chereads / Naruto: Echoes of a Distant Home / Chapter 154 - Chapter 154: The Proof of His Existence

Chapter 154 - Chapter 154: The Proof of His Existence

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The rain had passed, but today, most of the sunlight remained hidden behind scattered clouds, though no more rain seemed likely.

On a path between rows of graves, a girl from the Land of Grass, dressed in black and holding a bouquet of flowers, walked toward the cemetery.

Since the heavy rain that had fallen days ago, the sky had been overcast with scattered clouds. Occasionally, rays of sunlight would break through the gaps, casting light on a faded flower or an unattended grave.

As she walked between the graves, the sorrow in her heart felt like a tangled ball of thread—one that became more knotted the more she tried to unravel it.

The sky was gloomy, and the wind carried a chill.

At the end of the path was Ye Zi's memorial tomb. In the vast, empty cemetery, the silence was almost unbearable.

There, standing before the tombstone, was another girl dressed in black—Kushina.

Kotoe paused for a moment, looking at Kushina. Then she approached, bent down, and placed the flowers in front of the tombstone. Instead of standing up immediately, she reached out her hand and gently touched the shallow engraving of Ye Zi's name.

"You once said that staying alive was the most important thing," Kotoe murmured, her sorrowful eyes brimming with tears. "You liar..."

Kushina silently watched the girl beside her, noticing the tears falling to the ground. This was someone who shared her sadness.

"That day you left... What were you really trying to say?" Kushina bit her lip, clutching at the fabric of her chest until it wrinkled.

In the Uchiha compound, inside an old, traditional house.

"How could that man die so easily?" came the voice of a girl, filled with disbelief. She stood with her head slightly bowed, her fists clenched tightly, and her eyes trembling.

She had short black hair and dark eyes, and her tall, lean body was sculpted with muscles like a predator, full of explosive strength.

She was Uchiha Kōri, one of the clan's rising stars, a student Ye Zi had once taught. Now a jōnin with the three-tomoe Sharingan, she was among the clan's few elites.

"You still won't call him by his name, even though you're grieving his death," said her twin brother, Uchiha Ninashi, looking at his sister. As her brother, he could easily see through her heart. He had always known how much she cared about Ye Zi, even though her competitive nature prevented her from admitting it.

Over the past five or six years—perhaps even longer—many things had changed.

Ninashi's own strength had grown, and he had become more involved in the inner workings of the Uchiha clan. He regretted Ye Zi's death, but it didn't deeply affect him. Like Kōri, he had also wanted to surpass Ye Zi. However, with his sense of self-awareness, he had come to realize that as time passed, the gap between them had only grown wider. Even with the three-tomoe Sharingan, he had never gained the confidence to surpass Ye Zi.

"To surpass him, I'll need even greater power," Ninashi thought, pushing up his glasses. "But I never expected someone so strong would die so easily."

Kōri, seemingly struck by his words, glared at Ninjō and angrily retorted, "Why would I be sad over that man's death?"

Ninashi looked at his sister, whose tears were now streaming down her face, and sighed softly. "Then why are you crying?"

"Huh?"

Kōri froze for a moment, reaching up to touch her cheek. The wetness on her fingers made her realize that she was indeed crying.

"Why... Why am I crying?" she muttered, wiping her eyes in frustration. But no matter how much she wiped, the tears kept coming.

Ninashi watched his sister silently, thinking to himself, "Is this how it feels to care for someone outside the clan?"

In another part of the village, inside a house, someone knocked on a door.

"Kurenai, what are you doing in there? Why won't you come out and eat?" a woman's voice called out, filled with concern. "No matter what's happened, you can't skip your meals. Just talk to your mother about it."

"Kurenai, if you don't answer, I'm going to get angry!"

The knocking grew louder and more insistent, but there was still no response from inside the room.

The woman's eyebrows furrowed in frustration, her hands resting on her hips, clearly on the verge of losing her temper.

"Let her be for now," a voice said suddenly. It was her husband, Shinku Yūhi, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"But..." she began, her worry evident, though her expression softened.

Shinku shook his head gently and guided her away from the door.

Inside the room, Kurenai sat on her bed with her face buried in her knees.

Suddenly, she stood up, walked over to her wardrobe, and carefully opened it. Inside hung a red dress, one that was too big for her current size and no longer fit.

"Idiot..." she whispered, her red-rimmed eyes gazing at the dress.

"I wanted to prove to you that I'm not weak, but now..."

At Guy's residence, like many others, he sat alone in an empty apartment.

The loss of his father had been the hardest blow to him. After finally recovering, he had been lucky enough to become Ye Zi's student.

From that moment, the loneliness Guy had always carried within him seemed to vanish, like darkness chased away by light.

He often thought to himself that once he became strong enough, he would take on many missions and earn a lot of money, so he could treat Ye Zi to as much meat as he wanted.

But... he was gone.

Guy wept uncontrollably, expressing his grief in the most straightforward way he knew.

In his small room, there was a simple, ancient-looking wallet on the table. It had been a gift from Ye Zi before his departure—now it was the last thing he had left of his teacher.

The wallet lay on the table, while Guy cried his heart out.

He had finally found someone he could hold dear, but why... Why did that person have to leave so suddenly?

Ye Zi, who had never wanted to leave any emotional attachments behind in this world, had, without realizing it, left behind bonds in the village.

There were people who cared about him—people he had deliberately ignored.

Now that he was gone, the proof of his existence was evident in the grief of those left behind.

Those who cared deeply for him.

Those who loved him.

Those who sought to surpass him.

Those who respected him.

Everyone believed he was dead.

But the truth was, he was still alive.

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