**Konoha, Seventeen Years**
**June 5th**
To civilians across the Land of Fire, today was just another day—a day when the flames of war would finally find peace.
But in Konoha, a quiet sorrow clung to the village, as if even the land itself mourned.
Dark clouds swallowed the sky, casting an eerie gloom over every street, every corner.
Light rain fell, a veil of tears shared by nature itself.
Today, Konoha buried not just a leader but a founder, a pillar who had built this village and guided it to prosperity.
Dressed in black mourning clothes, the villagers gathered in silence.
The shinobi had removed their forehead protectors, and the civilians clasped their hands, heads bowed.
Among the crowd, grief was shared as if by unspoken agreement; even the youngest children, usually bursting with energy, stood still, their heads low.
It was an unbroken rule, one that Senju Tobirama himself had taught them:
*A shinobi does not cry, does not let emotions cloud their judgment.*
But today, even the most hardened Chūnin could not obey.
Grief showed on every face, every closed eye, every trembling lip.
In the center of the square, Tobirama's coffin lay under the relentless rain, as the entire village watched, rain mingling with tears on countless cheeks.
Some villagers bit their lips to hold back sobs. Others tilted their heads to the sky, letting the rain mask their emotions.
Quiet gestures of comfort were exchanged among friends, hands on shoulders, silent nods.
Uchiha clan members and their leader also stood among the crowd, their eyes betraying a complex mix of respect, grief, and admiration for the man who, while their opponent, had always treated them fairly, even establishing the Uchiha police force to uphold Konoha's peace.
Uzumaki Mito, Tobirama's sister-in-law and Konoha's wise elder, stood closest to the coffin, her silent tears reflecting the unimaginable loss in her heart.
Beside her, little Tsunade sobbed uncontrollably, reaching out as if to touch her granduncle one last time.
Her cries broke the silence, raw and heart-wrenching, echoing through the square until, spent, she fainted in grief.
Hiruzen stepped forward, his usual calm demeanour softened as he gently took Tsunade from Mito.
"Allow me, Mito-sama," he said softly, sensing the exhaustion in her expression.
She nodded, passing her beloved granddaughter into his care.
In the front row stood the ones closest to Tobirama, his disciples, the ones he had molded into leaders and protectors of Konoha:
Mito, Tsunade, Shimura Danzo, Sarutobi Hiruzen, Utatane Koharu, Mitokado Homura, and Uchiha Kagami.
Behind them were the heads of clans, other village officials, and the Senju clan members.
And beyond, the entire village—every shinobi, every civilian—mourned their Hokage in silence, each silently offering Tobirama their final respects.
Hiruzen felt the weight of the moment settle over him, understanding that the time had come. He nodded slightly to Mitokado Homura.
"Close it," he whispered, his tone solemn.
*Click… thunk.*
The sound of the coffin closing was a finality that pierced through the rain, and the silence that followed was as heavy as the thunder that rolled in the distance.
Mournful flutes began to play, their somber notes resonating with the sorrow in every heart.
The sky answered with a deafening crack of thunder, as rain poured down with newfound ferocity, washing over the village as Tobirama's coffin was lowered, coming to rest beside his brother, Senju Hashirama.
One by one, mourners approached the gravesite.
Hiruzen moved forward first, holding a white chrysanthemum.
He placed it gently at the foot of Tobirama's tombstone, taking a moment to gaze at his sensei's portrait, letting the memories of their time together, of Tobirama's teachings and sacrifices, fill him.
In that moment, Hiruzen felt the weight of Tobirama's legacy, a legacy he had entrusted to him.
"Farewell, Teacher. Rest well," he murmured, bowing his head in respect.
Next, Mito placed her own white chrysanthemum, a final tribute to her brother-in-law.
But her frail form shook, and Hiruzen reached out to steady her.
"Lady Mito!" he whispered, holding her arm as her sorrow threatened to overcome her.
She nodded in gratitude, her voice a fragile whisper. "Thank you, Hiruzen."
And then, as others continued to place flowers, little Tsunade stirred in Hiruzen's arms.
She awoke with a start, running to her granduncle's tombstone, clinging to it as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.
Her cries rose over the mournful silence, and even as her strength faded, she refused to let go, her small hands clutching the stone as if it were her only anchor.
Eventually, exhaustion won, and Hiruzen gently lifted her, passing her to a member of the Senju clan.
One by one, the villagers came forward, each placing a flower, each offering a silent prayer.
An elder from the village stepped forward, recounting the countless deeds of Senju Tobirama, his victories, his sacrifices, and his unwavering dedication to the village.
The crowd listened, each word a reminder of the man they had lost, a man who had defined Konoha as much as the trees and mountains around them.
When the elder finally finished, he closed the book, his voice trembling as he recited the final words.
The funeral came to a close, and the crowd began to disperse, moving slowly, many still lost in their grief.
Some villagers lingered, unwilling to leave Tobirama's side, while others were so overwhelmed by emotion that they collapsed, unconscious on the muddy ground.
It was clear to all present: Senju Tobirama was more than a Hokage.
He was Konoha's heart, a man who had sacrificed his life not for glory, but for the village's future, refusing even in his final moments to abandon his people.
He could have escaped, could have fled to safety with his Flying Thunder God Technique, but he chose to stay, to give his life for Konoha's tomorrow.
*Where the leaves dance, the fire burns bright. This fire will illuminate the village, igniting new leaves. *
This was the Will of Fire, the legacy Senju Tobirama left behind.
In his passing, a new guardian of the Will of Fire had emerged.
Hiruzen Sarutobi, chosen by Tobirama, was the torchbearer of this flame—a choice Tobirama had made with unyielding faith, a choice Konoha could trust.
In the silence that followed, a faint whisper seemed to echo through the cemetery, like a lingering presence, a parting message from the Second Hokage himself.
*"Fallen flowers are not heartless things; they transform, nurturing the earth they leave behind." *
Senju Tobirama's story had ended, but his Will of Fire burned on. Konoha had lost a great man, but it had gained a legacy that would never die.