After reaching home, Gen peeled off the heavy armor and tight combat gear, letting his shoulders relax.
A hot shower washed away the sweat and dust of the road. He slipped into a loose black robe patterned with red clouds; casual, but dignified.
In the kitchen, he pulled a can of juice from the fridge, cracked it open, and drank slowly while lounging on the sofa.
A few minutes of quiet rest later, he buckled the Kusanagi Sword at his side and stepped outside.
"Gen's back. Looking sharp today," an auntie called out.
"Thank you for the compliment, Auntie," he replied with a polite nod.
"Gen, where to?"
"Training ground."
"You work so hard. No wonder they call you one of the Uchiha twins."
"Uncle, you're too kind."
"I heard you performed brilliantly on the battlefield," another said with admiration.
"As long as I haven't shamed the Uchiha name, I'm satisfied."
"No shame at all! you're one of our clan's prides."
He smiled faintly but kept walking.
Word of his reputation had already spread through the Uchiha compound.
Earlier, when he'd entered the clan grounds with Mikoto, Shisui, and Itachi, the setting hadn't been right for casual greetings. Now, alone, he was fair game.
Gen answered each well-wisher with humility and respect, never aloof, nor dismissive.
The ordinary members of the clan appreciated it. Some ninja with awakened Sharingan were polite to civilians, but others were cold and unapproachable.
Gen was neither.
The greetings followed him all the way to the third training ground, where Shisui and Itachi were deep in practice, kunai and shuriken clinking against wood in the forest shadows.
"Finally!" Shisui called, seeing Gen stroll in. "We're almost done for the day."
"I went home, showered, rested a bit," Gen said, hopping lightly onto a tree branch. "Then I kept getting stopped by clansmen who wanted to talk. Couldn't exactly run away."
"Not training?" Shisui asked.
"Do I look like I came here to train?" Gen said lazily.
Shisui's grin widened. "Then what?"
"Chat."
That single word lit something in Shisui's eyes. He always came away from these talks with new ideas, and he liked hearing Gen's perspective. Abandoning his practice, he leapt up to join him on the branch.
"What's the topic, then?" Gen asked.
Shisui thought for a moment, then remembered something from a few days ago.
Itachi had asked him why wars happen. He'd said "because of hatred," but it had felt incomplete. Now was his chance to get a better answer.
"Let's talk about war. Why does it happen?"
Gen smiled. Of course, Shisui wouldn't pick something trivial.
Below them, Itachi's training slowed. He was listening.
"What do you think?" Gen asked.
"I said hatred," Shisui admitted, scratching his head, "but I know there's more to it. I just can't think what."
"Hate's part of it," Gen said, "but it's only the surface. The root is competition for resources."
"Resources?" Shisui echoed.
"Yes. The Land of Fire is the richest in the world — forests, rivers, fertile soil, minerals, even its climate is a resource."
"Climate?"
"Who wouldn't want to live where the air is clean, the weather stable, and order is maintained?" Gen countered.
Shisui nodded slowly.
"That environment supports a huge population, thriving agriculture, active trade, and a strong economy. Other nations might have certain advantages, but none match the Land of Fire across the board. So of course they covet it."
"Think back to the First, Second, and Third Shinobi Wars; did Konoha start any of them?"
Shisui mentally reviewed what he'd read in clan archives. No... Konoha had been the target each time, surrounded by multiple villages in every war. The most recent one had seen more enemies than ever and with heaviest losses.
"You're right," he said, eyes bright.
On the ground, Itachi had stopped throwing shuriken entirely, standing still with his ears tilted toward the conversation.
"Hatred is just the excuse," Gen continued. "Politicians use it to stir people up, to justify war, and to profit from it for themselves, the village, or the country. But beyond resources, there are other drivers such as ideology, territory, politics, and history."
"Explain?" Shisui asked, leaning in.
Itachi stepped closer to the base of the tree, silent.
"I'm no expert," Gen said, "this is just my take. Ideological conflict means different cultures, beliefs, and values — sometimes completely opposed. If neither side will yield, they fight."
"Territorial disputes are simpler. The great nations don't argue over borders much, but smaller ones have fought whole wars over them. And at heart, territory is just resources.
"Political goals? Complicated. Leaders start wars to distract from domestic problems, or to gain advantages."
"History is its own poison... grudges from the past that keep simmering until one spark sets them off."
Shisui nodded, absorbing every word. Itachi's dark eyes stayed fixed on Gen, a question forming.
"The reasons are many," Gen said, "but in the end, it's always a clash of resources and interests. Whether I'm right or not, you'll see for yourself as you learn more."
Shisui thought back over his life so far — the more he compared, the more it matched.
Itachi was too young to judge, but the idea was there now, lodged in his mind like a seed.
"Then, Brother Gen," Itachi asked quietly, "is there any way to avoid war?"