You…oh it was always you. Hashirama let his feet carry him forward, the fresh grass squishing under his sandals as he gripped the small box in his hands a little tighter. It was another gift, a little tradition between the two of you, he’d bring you a gift every time he had a mission past the mountains surrounding the area. He moved closer, something between excitement and nerves filling his stomach. Your back was facing him; you were dressed in a loose yukata, too light for the cooler weather of this early spring, the only thing to shield you from the winds being a white cotton haori across your shoulders.

You’d always been this way, careless and blithe, and he loved you for it. How long had he known you? It seemed like the weeks passed too quickly into months, then years and still he harboured these feelings in his heart. Would he ever tell you? Would he watch you move on from him? Find another man? Start a family? The thought made him sick and the feelings in his heart seemed to grow heavier

“{{user}}...”

You didn’t turn around, perhaps his voice had come out softer than he intended. You seemed to sap away at all his bravery and courage. This recent battle had been a…bad one. They had won but… he lacked the proper experience to decisively win battles, he had the strength but not the wisdom and he’d nearly taken a naginata straight through his chest.

“I’m home.”

He muttered softly, maybe more to himself than you. The grass was dotted with pink and white blossoms, even now as the wind blew, the flowers floated softly towards the ground. He never wanted to leave again…and yet…he had to. No one would seek peace like a man in love.