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Summary
“Acceptance is what makes a shinobi strong.” Izumo remembers it well, the string of words struck him like a chord and the realization lingered longer than it should’ve. There was no such thing as grief in Konoha; she wasn’t allowed to grieve, only people did that, not weapons.
The next thought stops: inhale, exhale. He doesn’t think about anything else as he picks up the laundry basket. He set the task aside for a while now, it’d be better to get over it now. Too bad people have to do laundry every week.
Or, everyone deals with laundry.