The sun was setting on the lush, green plains of Konoha, when he stepped out of the shadows of the forest. Donning a dusty blue cape, he pulled the fallen hood tighter over his head, covering his face once again. He stood in the receding sunlight, taking in the familiar sights and smells of the valley. With the coming night, he realized he was going to miss the way the sunlight filled his bones and warmed the blood flowing through his body. The night was cold and unfeeling, like so many things about Konoha. When the cool, night air finally crept up his leg, the shinobi quickly and quietly slipped back into the darkness of the woods.
In a flash, he was off the ground and jumping through the trees. He kept his eyes and ears open for any unnatural sounds that would spoil his return home. Being this close to the village gates, it would not be a surprise if he were to run into a team of chuunin training in the woods or a pervert like Jiraiya “researching.” It would be a terrible disappointment if his visit was spoiled by his own carelessness. But, then again, he was anxious to get back into the village while the night was still young, so he threw his cautions to the wind and continued on his way.
It had been 5 long, hate-filled years since he had stepped foot in Konoha. During that time, he had traveled through the great countries like a beggar, scavenging off the land and sleeping wherever the shadows were darkest. The hardest part was traveling alone, but friends were a luxury that missing nins could not afford. But even if he wasn’t a missing nin, friends were something that the gods had deemed him unworthy of. Still, he would have enjoyed the company of another person, someone to talk to, someone to laugh with. If only he could have convinced Namiko to come with him. At least then, the years might have been enjoyable, but when the two of them were together, nothing was certain.
He continued to fly through the trees until he reached his destination – the gates of Konoha. Should he risk going through them or should he follow a more discreet path over the walls? After 5 years, he was probably a distant memory in the minds of most of the villagers, a reminder of the sacrifices that had to be made during the times of war. Life was funny this way. When he was young, he would pray every night that the villagers would stop turning their backs on him and welcome him like a friend. Now, he would like nothing better. The black hole of emotion that was his childhood would only help his cause, but only if he could tap into it and slip into the village unnoticed.
“Let’s hope things are still the same,” he mumbled to himself as he jumped down from a tree at the edge of the forest. He gathered his cloak closer to him, pulling is aged hood tighter to his face, once again casting it in shadows. Casually, he made his way down the dirt road that led to the gates. To the average passerby, he looked like another road-weary traveler looking for a place to eat and a bed to rest his head for the night. Most didn’t give him a second glance, and even the ones who did, let him continue on his way. If only they knew the plans he had in store for their precious village, the façade of peace and tranquility would be broken like a fragile piece of glass. He assured himself that once he set his plans in motion, Konoha would never be the same again.
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Chapter notes: This story takes place before Naruto and the others were born, but when the 4th Hokage was still alive.