Truth be told, Hagoromo's feelings toward the original cast, their struggles, and their eventual fates had always been complicated.
Did he plan on changing their destinies? Sorry, but there was a minor issue with that: Hagoromo didn't actually know how the story was supposed to go.
This world was unfolding in ways entirely foreign to him. How was he supposed to step in and fix things?
Take someone like Rin Nohara, for instance. He felt a certain closeness to her and "knew" she was destined to die in this war. But what could he actually do about it?
The answer was: absolutely nothing.
He knew the endings, but he didn't know the process—and that was a special kind of torture. In some ways, having a half-baked understanding was worse than knowing nothing at all. He had vague memories of major events, like the Nine-Tails' attack, but beyond that? If he didn't know, he didn't know.
Then there was Obito Uchiha. Hagoromo knew he would eventually become one of the series' final villains. But again, what was he supposed to do? Looking at his current personality, there wasn't a single hint of evil. Was he supposed to just kill him "without cause"? Impossible. It wouldn't even make sense.
I mean, has anyone ever seen a Main Boss get taken out by a common hunter's bear trap?
Maybe he should warn Rin or Minato to be extra careful on missions so they don't accidentally die. But that kind of warning was redundant; on the battlefield, every shinobi was already hyper-vigilant, praying they wouldn't make a single fatal mistake.
In war, Rin might die. In war, many shinobi might die. In war, every shinobi could die.
Hagoromo was a shinobi too. He wasn't exempt from that list.
Death was the most mundane currency of war. If possible, of course, he wanted a girl like Rin to survive. Perhaps the "Event Line" would shift along with the Timeline—or perhaps it wouldn't. No one could say for sure.
As long as you were part of the shinobi system, you were bound by its rules. During wartime, every ninja had their own assignments. Hagoromo couldn't just hover over Rin like a bodyguard forever. Even Minato Namikaze, her own sensei, couldn't manage that—let alone Hagoromo, whose front lines didn't even align with theirs.
Whether he liked it or not, there was something called "Fate" at work here. In the face of that word, being a "transmigrator" didn't grant him much power. He wasn't a prophet; he faced the unknown just like everyone else.
He certainly couldn't end the war single-handedly. A ninja like Hagoromo was just a tiny component in a massive machine. Even legends like the Sannin, Minato, or the Hokage himself were just gears in the engine of war.
In terms of sheer explosive power, Hagoromo was definitely a "bug" in the system, but he wasn't "all-powerful". Compared to the powerhouses at the end of the original series, he was still just an "ordinary" ninja.
He wasn't naive enough to think a few "cheats" made him invincible. On the contrary, he was cautious to a fault—and deeply aware of his own powerlessness. This world wasn't that simple. Tailed Beasts could delete most ninjas, and a handful of ninjas could delete Tailed Beasts. Until Hagoromo could go toe-to-toe with a Tailed Beast alone, he had no business daydreaming.
Besides, who could guarantee this world perfectly matched the one in the books? There could be shadows lurking even deeper than he imagined.
Hagoromo was an optimist by trade, but those who project the most optimism often house a deep-seated pessimist within.
Case in point: something was about to happen that he was powerless to stop.
Five days after the Leaf army halted in the Land of Wind—four days after Suna's crushing defeat—the Kazekage's envoy arrived. Their purpose was clear: a plea for peace.
Suna was folding. They were sued for peace with genuine desperation. Just as the Hokage had predicted, the war on this particular front was over.
Of course, to ensure the peace treaty wasn't just a worthless scrap of paper, both sides immediately dispatched their first round of negotiators. For these preliminary contacts, neither the Hokage nor the Kazekage would appear personally. Only after the basic terms were hammered out would the "Two Kages" meet.
However, until the treaty was signed, the Konoha forces would not leave the Land of Wind. That was the victor's prerogative. The Leaf's military presence served as a silent threat—for Suna, this peace treaty was essentially a surrender signed at sword-point.
None of that was Hagoromo's concern, though. Major diplomatic talks were way above his pay grade.
By this time, Tsunade had fulfilled her promise. She had stayed through the thick of the war and completed her duties. Though the Hokage's personal forces had joined late, the war on this front had ended in a Konoha victory.
And now, the last active Senju was preparing to leave the village.
Ever since the battle ended, Tsunade had been handing over her responsibilities—a clear omen of her departure. Now that Suna had sued for peace, it was time for her to go.
The Third Hokage had undoubtedly protested and tried to persuade her to stay. A Konoha at war desperately, desperately needed the Slug Princess. But Tsunade's mind was made up. Given her strength and status as the granddaughter of the First Hokage, even Sarutobi couldn't force her to stay against her will.
Tsunade was a woman of action. She decided to leave at dawn. Due to her personal wishes and other sensitive reasons, there was no grand send-off.
No one came to say goodbye. Except for Hagoromo.
"Have you decided where you're going after leaving the battlefield, Tsunade-sama? Every direction except the Land of Fire is currently enemy territory. With your status, you should probably be careful," Hagoromo said.
Tsunade was a powerhouse, but as the saying goes: "two fists are no match for four hands." The Sannin weren't invincible. Despite their limited time together, Hagoromo had genuinely grown to like her blunt personality.
"Don't worry about me. My transformation technique is the best in the world," Tsunade said with a small smile. "If I don't want to be found, no one will recognize me."
As the moment to leave Konoha finally arrived, was there a lingering sense of attachment in her heart? Surely. The world was vast, but in truth, she had nowhere to go.
To put it nicely, she was going on a journey of self-discovery. To put it bluntly, she was homeless. After the deaths of her brother and her lover, she had lost her anchors.
To the current Tsunade, Konoha was a place of memory, yes—but it was no longer a place of belonging.