Chapter Text
As one walked through the streets of Konoha, it wasn’t hard to notice how much the shinobi village had suffered and had gone through in recent years. Three huge attacks in the past three years, starting with the onslaught of two other united villages, Sand and Sound, followed by the complete destruction and demolishing of Konoha by Pain, a member of the dangerous organisation called Akatsuki, and finishing with the losses caused by the war that had just ended. Despite such tragic events, most of which were still fresh in people’s memory, this warm and quiet, autumn night brought to mind the peaceful times when the specter of war was not yet looming on the horizon. Although dilapidated architecture wrapped by building constructions was as common a sight as falling leaves in autumn, at night the city fell into a peaceful sleep, knowing that it could still be safe at least for a while. Every resident, civilian or shinobi alike, wanted to believe that the alliance between the Five Great Shinobi Nations would provide them with respite after the tragedies that relentlessly haunted their home.
In the evenings, after a week of work, only a few people stuck their heads out beyond the periphery of their own four walls. Most residents finished rebuilding before sundown, and any life on the streets died down for the night, exhausted by the daily routine and extra duties. Only from time to time could the rustle of the wind be heard, punctuated by the sounds of animals or quiet domestic conversations, in which laughter, rather than crying, took precedence with increased frequency. Konoha’s Will to Fire, an idea and philosophy passed down from an early age, burned brightly in the hearts of its people, giving them encouragement and strength to face another day when the future was still uncertain.
The doors of the hospital, which was the first to be rebuilt after the war, opened with a distinct creak, releasing from their embrace a young woman whose tired legs steered her towards the less busy and frequented streets. After being on duty for several hours, all Hoshino Kaida dreamed of was a refreshing shower and soft sheets wrapping around her tired muscles. Relishing the pleasant night and the gusts of cooling air, she slowly made her way towards her home, unable to run even if she wanted to speed up her way back. Her blue, short kimono blew with the wind, and the only thing holding it in place was a black, broad Obi with a protective metal headband - a hitai-ate - engraved with the symbol of the Hidden Leaf Village, Konohagakure. Walking through the streets of the village, illuminated by the frail light of the lamps, Kaida once again could proudly admire the perseverance of her fellow villagers as they strove relentlessly to rebuild what had been destroyed.
The road back proved to be idyllic despite the still omnipresent specter of the just-ended conflict. Empty streets, empty houses that were uninhabitable, barracks for contractors who had come from all corners of the Land of Fire to help Konoha rebuild and the constant patrols of regular shinobi and ANBU teams were among the many symbols of the new reality in which the kunoichi and so many others found themselves in. The picture gradually changed the further she moved from the main road and the central administrative complex. Heading where the buildings were sparse and dominated by forests disrupted by occasional training fields, one could assume that The Great War had never taken place. Nature, unwavering in its strength, continued its unstoppable course. The water persisted to flow up the Naka River, birds sang in the treetops heralding the end and beginning of the day, and the wind carried fallen leaves and the smell of impending rain with its gusts.
Kaida's feet steered her right to where the peace and quiet overshadowed the restless energy still present in the village. Nestled on the outskirts of Konoha, the Hoshino clan's property, far from the daily hustle and bustle of the busy city center, was the perfect base for regenerating ragged nerves after a day spent with perpetually disgruntled patients, blood and paperwork. The house was far too big for one person, especially one who only spent their time there in the evenings and at night. The spacious kitchen facing the open living room was the centre and heart of the house. Once inside it was there, where, in the first place, the brunette directed her steps. Her hair, which had been tied up in a neat chignon, was loosened and allowed to flow freely down her shoulders and back. After all, now she didn't have to worry about whether the patient would accidentally choke on one of her wavy strands. Feeling how such a small gesture had already caused a wave of pleasant shivers to pass through her body, she couldn't wait for a few bites of last night's dinner to fall into her empty stomach and for her body to be enveloped by the warmth of the water and the comfort of the bed.
After a modest and barely warm meal, reheated quickly in an old frying pan that was long past its prime, it was time for the long-awaited shower. Her bare feet pounded rhythmically on the wooden floor, drowning out the silence in the flat. Kaida closed the door to the study and made sure she turned off all the lights in the other rooms before she sluggishly climbed the stairs to the upper floor. The bathroom, located on the other side of the stairs, was spacious enough to accommodate a large shower on the right, glazed and reaching all the way down to the floor, and a bathtub on the left that could easily fit two people. The medic opted for the quicker of the two options. As the almost boiling water hit the woman's tense body, a satisfying moan preceded by a louder hiss escaped her mouth. Along with the water, the cares and worries of everyday life drained from Kaida's head. After a immensely exhausting week full of graveyard or double shifts, all the young kunoichi dreamed of was a clear-of-duties weekend spent on relaxing.
With the war over, the hospital and thus the Medical Corps, as well as every medical ninja in the Hidden Leaf Village, was worth its weight in gold. Some highly qualified doctors did not survive the Fourth Shinobi World War, others were paralyzed for life, never being able to practise their profession again. After the war itself, more people ended up in the medical facility than there was enough human resources and infrastructure to spare, and there were still regular patients, civilians, mothers with children or shinobi who had been affected by the reconstruction to be taken care of. Therefore, every medic was scrambling in two shifts, trying to help everyone on time, while not leaving the necessary bureaucracy at the end of the month, which was regrettably inescapable. In the early hours when Konoha's military strength began to return home with the wounded, seeing the scale of the disaster, even retired doctors and nurses were called back into service as long as they were fit for basic duties. Civilians who had medical training were also posted to the Hospital and the barracks that served as an extension of the main Konoha General building. All this was done so that the medical ninjas could focus their attention on critical cases and where their expertise was needed the most. In all this, Kaida tried to work ‘miracles’, shouldering as much as she could carry and a little more, wanting to ease the burden on her colleagues and subordinates. In the post-war reality, every pair of hands was at a premium, and even a five-minute break made a drastic difference.
With an immense amount of responsibility on her shoulders, whether for her patients or for other medics who answered directly to her, Kaida often found her thoughts wandering at times, especially when her head was free of work and decision-making. What she and other shinobi had experienced during the war, however short, what they experienced on a daily basis, trying to save the lives of those who suffered the most, could not be locked away in a box in the back of her head. Not by a long shot, not when she had blood on her hands day after day, not when she had to put a five-year-old on the waiting list because she had no spare hands to work with and child’s priority was lower than a thirty-five-year-old jōnin's, and not when she walked out after surgery and informed waiting family that there was nothing more they could do. Their everyday life, her everyday life, sooner or later had to catch up with a tired mind that was finding it harder and harder to put up the protective barriers.
Another pleasant shudder brought the woman back to ‘earth’, pulling her out of the vicious circle of what was and what could have been done differently. Kaida sighed, rubbing her tired eyes with her wet palms, knowing that such wandering was pointless, knowing that it would bring her more anguish than good. At that one moment, the brunette didn't want to clutter her head with tiresome thoughts, and all she dreamed of was indulging in small pleasures. As a shinobi with years of experience, cutting off her emotions at critical moments came easily to her. After all, it was one of the fundamentals taught back at the Academy to the oblivious six-year-olds who thought being a ninja was fun and filled with exciting adventures. However, no matter how hard Kaida tried that night, the anxiety and negative feelings refused to leave her body, just as the sweat and dirt collected after fourteen hours of work did. At moments like this, the kunoichi longed for the childlike naivety or the dehumanising drills that the ANBU used to eradicate the weakness that was emotion. Two vastly different states, yet each better than this suspension in between that she found herself in.
After a dreamy shower that gave relief to her body but left her mind full of noisy thoughts, the only thing left for the kunoichi was to enter one of the two bedrooms on the upper floor in a light airy dressing gown and spread out on the huge double bed with relief. Under the weight of her body, the sheets and mattress collapsed slightly, conforming to the woman's shape. Unusually and surprisingly, sleep came faster than Kaida could have expected. Anxiety had not left her even for a moment since leaving the hospital, but actually, what was the worst that could happen? The war was over, peace has been made, Konoha was returning to normality, the situation at the hospital was stabilizing, and Kaida had her first free weekend since the Akatsuki threat had appeared.