After eating their fill, the bonfire's flames had dwindled somewhat. Although it was still early, there was no need to add more firewood.
The three of them sat on their stools, gazing up through the branches at the deep night sky. The moon shone brightly, though the dense branches divided the light, creating a tapestry of shadow and silver across the forest floor.
This kind of scene was rare in Konoha. The village was simply too bustling, too lively. In such an environment, it was impossible to feel truly at peace. Over the years, Hayashi had only felt this calm in Mito's small courtyard, though it was a pity that the courtyard remained empty—the person who had lived there had passed away long ago.
After a pause, Mikoto tilted her head and asked softly, "Hayashi, do you think there are people on the moon?"
"Yes," he answered simply.
"How do you know?"
"If the land beneath our feet can nurture life, the moon can too," he replied.
Mikoto pursed her lips, clearly not entirely satisfied with his answer.
Hayashi gave her a gentle pat on the head and smiled. "I read an old family scroll once. It said that in ancient times, there was no moon."
"And then?" Mikoto pressed.
"The Sage of Six Paths created the moon," Hayashi said calmly.
Mikoto covered her mouth and giggled, "That's just a myth, right, Himeji?"
Himeji, who had been quietly observing the sky, tilted her head to listen. She softly hummed in acknowledgment but said nothing.
Hayashi smiled but offered no correction. The events were so far in the past that the Sage of Six Paths seemed more legend than reality. To most, tales of his deeds—including creating the moon—were beyond comprehension. It was like being told that humans were crafted by some deity; one would nod politely and laugh it off as story.
Myths in all civilizations were often moral tales, passed down and exaggerated over generations. Most people simply assumed they were fictional, not historical.
Hayashi poked the embers of the fire thoughtfully. "Yet myths often have roots in reality. Legends come from history," he muttered to himself. "Stories change as they pass through human hands, becoming distorted over time. But some things did really happen, even if no one knows the original truth."
He was just an ordinary shinobi, naturally unable to verify the ancient myths or know the number of lovers Sun Wukong supposedly had. But reborn in the ninja world, he held knowledge that few could match.
He could have been a charlatan of incredible renown if he wanted, like the Toad Sage. But those days were gone. His recklessness in the past had drawn the attention of the Time and Space Administration, who sealed his ability to foresee events. Now he could only work as a ninja historian, scraping by on what he knew.
"Still," he thought, "I am one of the few in the world who knows some truths. At least, I won't be fooled like Madara."
The thought brought a wry shake of his head. Madara's life had been a desperate pursuit of myths: the Rinnegan, the Ten-Tails, the Infinite Tsukuyomi. He had risked everything for words carved on a stone tablet, dragging his friends along for the ride.
Hayashi imagined that night at the Naka Shrine. Madara holding Hashirama by one hand, pointing to the tablet with the other, preaching fanaticism about combined power and creation.
It was like a friend suddenly claiming you were descended from a dragon, capable of awakening an ultimate bloodline. Would anyone leave behind all they had to follow that?
The First Hokage had chosen wisely. He was practical, with a vast village to govern and a family to protect. He refused to chase impossible dreams. That night, he and Madara parted ways, their friendship fractured forever. History proved Madara wrong; the things he sought were only wishful thinking.
Noticing the distant melancholy on Hayashi's face, Mikoto reached out, holding his hand gently. "What are you thinking about?"
Hayashi didn't answer directly. Instead, he asked, "Mikoto, do you think we could create a moon, like the Sage of Six Paths did?"
"How could that be possible? Humans can't do something like that," she replied softly.
"The Sage of Six Paths… he was just a very skilled ninja," Hayashi said, shaking his head with a faint smile. Inwardly, he mused, Nüwa, if she existed, was just a human who had maxed out her abilities.
Himeji, who had been listening quietly, suddenly turned to him, eyes wide. "If you could create a moon, could you make one for me?"
"No problem," Hayashi said with a smile, nodding. "Maybe your family originally came from the moon."
"Why would you say that?" Himeji asked, curious.
Hayashi pointed to the moon in the night sky. "Doesn't it remind you of your family's eyes?"
Himeji paused, speechless, and Mikoto giggled softly at the quiet moment between them.
For a while, the three of them continued talking under the moonlight. Around eight o'clock, Hayashi finally said, "Rest now. We have to keep moving early tomorrow."
Himeji gave him a quick glance and wordlessly walked toward the tent. Mikoto, however, lingered, dragging her feet as if reluctant to leave.
"Go on, be obedient," Hayashi said lightly, smiling.
After seeing Mikoto settle in, Hayashi took out a scroll and carefully reviewed it by the dim glow of the fire. Originally, they had planned to take turns keeping watch, but tonight was unusual, and he didn't bother. Staying awake all night was of little consequence to him anyway.
As dawn arrived, a faint mist rolled quietly through the forest, seeping into every corner. The night had passed peacefully. No Mist ninjas appeared, and nothing unusual occurred.
Was it really just a coincidence? Hayashi didn't dwell on it. He woke the two girls, they ate quickly, and resumed their journey.
By morning, the trio arrived at Mihana Town, ready to continue their mission.