Chapter 4 - Illusion Ninja is sore?
The next morning, the sun rose over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the village. Shin was already up, stretching and preparing for another day of training. He was eager to practice with his little brother, just like they had done the day before. He knew time was limited, as he would have to return to the academy in about two weeks from his summer break.
The academy usually started in April and ran until mid-July, with a summer break around this time. Students would return in September and finish the school year in March. It was already mid-August, so Shin wanted to make the most of his time both practicing and being with his brother.
After a quick breakfast, he went to wake up Ayumu, who was still lying in bed, looking exhausted. "Come on, it's time for more training," Shin said cheerfully, nudging him gently.
Ayumu groaned and tried to sit up, but his muscles protested with every movement. "I don't think I can move. I'm too sore from yesterday," he admitted, wincing as he tried to stretch.
Shin's face fell, disappointment evident in his eyes. "I was really looking forward to practicing with you today," he said, trying to hide his desire to train together. "But if you're that sore, I understand." Although cheerful, he knew not to push further in these situations. He remembered facing similar problems when he started practicing. For beginners, it's easy to get sore.
As he excused himself from the room, deciding to train alone, Ayumu watched him leave with the door shutting behind him. With the room falling back into an eerie silence, Ayumu tried to busy himself. He pondered the fascinating information he had heard the previous day from his wise grandfather about illusions.
His grandfather, a retired ninja, had shared information about the mysterious art of illusions, or genjutsu as he called it. Ayumu eagerly asked his grandfather to teach him immediately, but it turned into a long-winded lecture. His grandfather questioned him about his prior knowledge of chakra and mentioned a few things that were in ancient books. Additionally, he added two crucial pieces of information.
The first was that to master the intricate art of genjutsu, Ayumu would need years of rigorous training, primarily in controlling his chakra. This didn't worry Ayumu too much.
The second, which did worry him, was that a shinobi's chakra is greatly limited by birth. Lying restlessly in bed, Ayumu pondered, "What type of chakra nepotism is this? So there are families or clans born with better chakra than usual? With the Kazekage being one of them?" Just thinking of this unfair advantage worried him more and more; the thought of being disadvantaged from the start greatly concerned him.
Trying to clear his head of these conflicting thoughts, time passed slowly, and he eventually got back into a positive mindset. It wasn't too unfair, since even before coming to this world, there were always people born smarter than others, with better genetics allowing them to build strength faster. But that never stopped him from living his life.
He just had to hope he was one of the lucky few that had a lot of this so-called chakra. It would help him a lot, since he planned on becoming a shinobi, just like his brother. A decision he was still having trouble finding the resolve to continue forward with.
He couldn't shake the conflicting feelings he had about becoming a shinobi. Deep down, he knew he wasn't a violent person. The thought of fighting and potentially hurting others weighed heavily on his conscience. He preferred peace, just like any modern person. The idea of engaging in battles and using force terrified him. Yet, he had already made up his mind to become a ninja.
"I guess this is just an effect of growing up around people that do this for a living," he thought. Ultimately, Ayumu resolved to find a balance. He would strive to become a shinobi who wasn't bloodthirsty and wouldn't kill any innocent person for the village. He vowed to use his skills and strength to protect rather than to harm, to be a shield rather than a sword.
As he sat lost in these thoughts, he then heard a knock on his door and a feminine voice from the other side alerting him that she was coming inside. It was his mother, her voice always soothing and reassuring, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside his mind.
As he focused on the door opening with his mother coming into view, he lost all focus on the previous topics. Instead, he focused on the tray of food in her hand. The aroma of the meal filled the room, providing a momentary escape from his worries.
She then sat gently on the side of the bed, trying to feed him, which he tried to decline. She insisted, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and love. Eventually, she got her way as he struggled to bring the food up to his mouth. The familiar taste of the meal brought a sense of comfort, reminding him of simpler times when his biggest concern was whether he could finish his homework on time. His mother's presence and the warmth of the food gave him a brief, yet precious, respite from the heavy responsibilities that loomed ahead.
As he ate, he tried to make conversation, focusing mainly on his mother. He asked about her well-being, her daily routines, and if she had any favorite pastimes. Additionally, he inquired if there was some sort of library in the vicinity where he could read books, as he was worried about becoming bored. He hoped to spend some quiet time there, delving into new stories and gaining knowledge.
When his mom brought up the topic of going to a playground, he felt a wave of discomfort. She suggested this plan because the playground was conveniently located near the library they were planning to visit. Despite the practicality of her suggestion, the thought of playing in an area designated for much younger children, essentially toddlers, made him feel deeply embarrassed. He couldn't imagine himself enjoying the swings or slides while surrounded by little kids, and the mere idea filled him with a sense of awkwardness.
"Kunai throwing, yes. Slides, no," he repeated in his mind.