Naruto:This Time, I, Kotetsu Hagane, Will No Longer Be Lazy

The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and the lingering aroma of grilled food from the market district. Kotetsu sighed as he shoved his hands into his empty pockets, his stomach still full but his wallet completely gutted.

"I swear those two are demons in disguise," he muttered, trudging along the dimly lit streets. "Eating like they've never seen food before… I'm broke for the whole damn week."

He could still hear Anko's laugh ringing in his ears as she stuffed her face with another skewer of dango, while Yugao had the audacity to act like it wasn't her fault too. Kotetsu groaned. He should've known better. They always roped him into these things, and he always fell for it.

His grumbling thoughts were interrupted by a pang of realization. He hadn't seen Izumo all day. That was weird. Izumo was always around—whether they were on duty or not, they had a rhythm, a shared sense of presence in each other's lives. But today? Nothing. Not even a glimpse.

Kotetsu frowned, trying to recall anything Yugao had mentioned about him.

"The cemetery," he murmured, stopping mid-step. "She said he was at the cemetery."

That was even weirder. Izumo didn't go there often. In fact, the only times he did, Kotetsu had been right beside him. His gut twisted with something uneasy, something he didn't quite want to name. Without another thought, he changed direction, heading toward the cemetery with quick strides.

The graveyard was silent except for the occasional rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. The moonlight cast long shadows over the rows of tombstones, giving the place a somber stillness. And then, as he approached, he saw him.

Izumo was there, kneeling in front of a single gravestone, his head slightly bowed, fingers tracing the engraved name. His shoulders were rigid, but Kotetsu could tell—he'd been there a long time.

Kotetsu slowed his steps, watching for a moment. Izumo's lips moved, barely above a whisper, carrying words meant for someone who wasn't there to hear them.

"… I don't know if I'm doing enough. If I'm good enough. You'd probably tell me to stop worrying, huh?" Izumo let out a soft, bitter chuckle. "I just… I wish you were here."

Kotetsu swallowed. His chest ached at the rawness in Izumo's voice. He knew loss—every shinobi did—but this was different. This wasn't battlefield grief or the rage of war. This was quiet, persistent, and it weighed on Izumo in a way that Kotetsu had never quite seen before.

He took a step closer, scuffing his sandal against the dirt just enough to announce his presence. Izumo stiffened slightly but didn't turn.

"You've been here all day," Kotetsu said, his voice softer than usual.

Izumo sighed but didn't deny it. "Yeah."

Kotetsu hesitated for only a second before stepping beside him, his gaze flicking to the tombstone. The name was carved deep, the letters stark in the moonlight.

Kamizuki Sora

Izumo's mother.

Kotetsu exhaled slowly. "You should've said something."

But Kotetsu knows better. Because he's been just like this before. Last time it was Izumo and his mother comforting him when his own mother passed away. And when Izumo's mother died he was right here comforting him on the loss. Since then the two would spend the day in mourning. Its just that now it was different.

Because he wasn't Kotetsu.

At least the best friend of Izumo who'd know these types of things.

Izumo's fingers curled against his knee. "It's not something I like bringing up, I don't want to make you feel obligated to be here."

Kotetsu nodded, understanding. Some things were too personal, too painful to say out loud. But still, Izumo shouldn't have been alone. Not for this. Not ever.

He crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees. "You know, if she were here, she'd probably scold you for sitting out in the cold all night."

Izumo let out a small huff of breath that might've been a laugh. "Yeah. She would."

Kotetsu continued, remembering how the woman use to act. "She'd also tell you to study more and to meet a nice girl so you don't run off to fight too fast."

Izumo let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, I should probably get on that, huh?"

They sat in silence for a while, the night air wrapping around them, heavy but not suffocating. Kotetsu didn't press for more, didn't try to fill the silence with empty words. He just stayed, because that's what best friends did.

And when Izumo finally stood, brushing the dirt off his pants, Kotetsu stood with him.

"Let's go home," Kotetsu said simply.

Izumo nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."

The warmth of the Kamizuki household greeted them as they stepped inside. Izumo moved with quiet familiarity, setting water to boil and pulling out ingredients from neatly arranged cabinets. Kotetsu leaned against the counter, watching as Izumo prepared a dish he recognized instantly.

"Zosui, huh?" Kotetsu remarked, the scent of simmering rice, dashi, and vegetables filling the air. "Haven't had this in a while."

Izumo gave a small smile as he stirred the pot. "It was one of her favorites. She used to make it whenever I got sick… or when she just felt like spoiling me."

Kotetsu remained silent, letting Izumo have the space to talk. He grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, setting one beside Izumo as he continued cooking.

Once the zosui was ready, they sat at the low dining table, steam rising from their bowls. The first bite was rich, comforting, filled with warmth and nostalgia.

Izumo took a slow sip of his beer before speaking. "She would've liked you, you know."

Kotetsu smirked. "Obviously. I'm incredibly likable."

Izumo rolled his eyes but chuckled. "She had a soft spot for people who could make others laugh. Said it was an underrated skill."

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the house feeling less empty, the weight of grief momentarily replaced by shared memories. Kotetsu raised his beer in a quiet toast. "To Sora."

Izumo mirrored the gesture. "To Mom."

They drank, letting the warmth of the meal and each other's company settle the lingering ache of loss.