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The village was calm, with only the faint sound of thunder rolling in the distance after the storm

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The village was calm, with only the faint sound of thunder rolling in the distance after the storm. Hatake Sakumo had just come back from a long mission, his steps slow but tired as he walked out of the Hokage's tower.

His silver hair, still damp from the earlier rain, stuck to his forehead, and his normally sharp eyes showed the exhaustion of battle. The rain had formed puddles that mirrored the full moon above as he walked, his hands slipping into his pockets without thought.

He'd missed home, missed the familiar warmth of Konoha, but something felt... off. The streets were too quiet, and the air felt thick, heavy with something more than just the aftermath of the storm.

Sakumo noticed a strange light flickering in the distance, coming from the direction of the Senju house. It stood out in the quiet night, out of place and unsettling. He quickened his pace, heading straight for the estate, the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each step.

As he got closer to the estate, he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of shattered glass from one of the upper windows. His heart skipped a beat.

"Daichi... Shizuka..." he muttered under his breath. 

Without hesitation, he pushed open the entrance carefully and immediately noticed the signs of struggle—the faint burn marks, the splintered wood, and the traces of chakra still lingering in the air. His eyes widened in shock as he spotted a smear of blood on the floor. 

Sakumo's eyes locked onto the center of the living room, where Senju Daichi's motionless body lay twisted on the floor. Bloodstains surrounded him, and the unnatural angle of his body hinted at a brutal struggle.

His breath hitched, his heart racing in his chest. His first instinct was to rush forward to check on Daichi. As Sakumo knelt beside Daichi's  body was limp, the blood around him staining the floor in dark pools. But as he moved closer, a faint movement caught his eye.

Daichi's eyelids fluttered, and, for a brief, fragile moment, his dull, lifeless eyes flickered with a faint light. His lips parted, struggling to form words, but it was the grip on Sakumo's sleeve that stole his breath. 

With a strained and labored breath, Daichi's hand clutched at his arm weakly, pulling him closer, his strength barely enough to hold on, but the urgency in his eyes said everything.

"S-Sakumo..." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

The silver haired man leaned closer, desperately trying to hear the broken words his friend was trying to say.

"Find... Shizuka... Hiromi..." Daichi rasped, his hand shaking on Sakumo's sleeve, as if trying to give him the last of his strength. "Hurry... please..."

Sakumo's heart stopped for a moment, his eyes wide with realization. Everything around him—the danger, the storm—faded into the background. Daichi was barely hanging on, and in those few clear moments, all he could think about was his wife and daughter.

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