Naruto : a hero's journey

It was a quiet weekend, and the Zen'in clan training grounds were nearly deserted.

With most of the clan members gone and only toddlers or small children left, the once-bustling area was now a peaceful place for Satoru and Keiko to train without interruptions.

Keiko was practicing the Clone Jutsu, focusing intensely as she attempted to make the illusionary clones resemble her perfectly.

Meanwhile, Satoru was occupied with his own training, sticking multiple leaves to his body using chakra control while doing push-ups. The exercise was both mentally and physically taxing.

Between breaths, Keiko spoke up, her voice carrying a hint of frustration. "You know, having physical clones would be way more useful than these illusionary ones."

Satoru, curious, continued his exercise while asking, "Why do you think that?"

Keiko paused briefly, creating another illusory clone before replying,

"Well, if I had physical clones, I could divide my work. One clone could train, another could handle paperwork, and I'd get so much more done."

Satoru stopped his push-ups for a moment, considering her words. "That... would be convenient," he admitted, already picturing how helpful clones could be in his own life.

He could have them run errands, earn money, and free up his schedule for more serious training or relaxation. His mind raced with the possibilities.

Without thinking, he blurted out, "When do we learn to make physical clones?"

Keiko, who had just dispelled her clones, turned to face him. "The clan has scrolls for elemental clones and even shadow clones. If you want, I could lend you one of them."

Satoru was momentarily stunned. 'How had I not noticed this before?' His focus broke, causing the leaves stuck to his body to fall to the ground. He scolded himself silently. 'I should have checked all the books in the scroll already'.

Regaining his composure, he quickly responded, "I don't need them. Not right now, at least."

Still, as he resumed his training, Satoru made a mental note to prioritize learning one of these physical clone techniques as soon as possible.

It was a valuable skill, one that could make his life far easier.

Satoru paused mid-push-up, his gaze shifting to Keiko. He noticed something off in her training routine.

She had gone straight from practicing the Clone Jutsu to attempting a physical exercise, not giving herself a single moment to rest.

Her movements were growing more frantic, and her breathing, which started light, quickly became heavy and uneven.

Concerned, he called out, "Keiko, why are you pushing yourself so hard? What's the rush?"

Keiko, still focused on her jutsu, didn't immediately respond. When she did, her tone was clipped. "I need to get stronger. I have goals, and I can't afford to waste time."

Satoru watched her closely, realizing that she wasn't pacing herself. It wasn't just determination driving her—it was something else. He reached into his bag, pulling out a water bottle and walking over to her.

"You're not going to get stronger by burning yourself out," he said, offering the bottle. "You need to take proper rests between exercises if you want to maximize your growth."

To his surprise, Keiko glared at him, her frustration evident. "Mind your own business, Satoru!" she snapped, her voice carrying a rare edge.

Taken aback, Satoru blinked. He hadn't expected her to react so harshly. Her usual calm demeanor was replaced by a tension he hadn't seen before. After a brief pause, he asked, "Are you... okay?"

Keiko stopped in her tracks, her breathing still labored. She stood still for a moment, then took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself down. Her posture relaxed, and she sighed.

"Sorry," she muttered, her voice softer now. "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just… things haven't been going well for me lately."

Satoru, still holding the water bottle out to her, didn't hesitate. "I'm all ears," he said, inviting her to share.

Satoru listened intently as Keiko started to open up, her voice quiet but filled with emotion. She looked down, her hands trembling slightly.

"Do you know why my clan hated me and my father?" she asked, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Satoru, taken aback by the shift in her tone, replied carefully. "They said your father brought shame to the clan with his actions."

Keiko shook her head, a bitter smile forming on her lips. "But do you know what those actions were?"

Satoru frowned, recalling the information he had come across in old newspapers and clan records. "From what I read, he was responsible for the deaths of many people. There were rumors he defected to another country."

Keiko's expression darkened. "That's only part of the truth. The real story is much worse." She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "He never aspired to be a swordsman like the rest of the clan. The Zen'in Clan prides itself on its swordsmanship, but he... he wanted no part of it.

He was an alcoholic, and many in the clan frowned upon him for it. But things got worse when he started taking missions while being drunk."

Satoru felt a tinge of anger. "Going on missions drunk is a punishable offense. That's... unforgivable."

Keiko nodded, her voice cracking. "One mission was especially important. A lot of lives depended on him, and because he was drunk, they all died. He failed everyone. The village stripped him of his ninja headband, and he was exiled. They said if he ever came back, he'd be imprisoned or worse killed."

She paused, her tears finally falling as she relived the painful memories. "I was only three when it happened, but I remember the look in his eyes. He was broken, Satoru. The clan hated him, but I loved him. And because of him, I've suffered so much."

Keiko's voice wavered, and she was openly crying now. "The families of those who died never let us forget. They slandered our name, and the clan slandered his. But despite everything, I still loved him."

Satoru remained silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. He understood now. The burden she carried wasn't just about her clan—it was about her father's legacy, the love she had for him, and the pain that came with it.

Without thinking, he reached out and gently wiped away her tears. "Keiko," he said softly, "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this."

Satoru looked at Keiko, her tear-streaked face now replaced with a mask of solemnity.

"What now? What do you plan to do?" he asked softly, wanting to know her real intention after all the pain she had just shared.

She paused for a moment, her eyes flickering with something he couldn't quite place before she replied, "I want to restore my clan's honor. I'll become a strong ninja, stronger than anyone in my family ever was."

For a brief second, Satoru thought he saw hesitation in her gaze, but it disappeared just as quickly as it came. Something didn't sit right with him, but he let it go for now.

'Is she hiding something?' he thought, but instead of pressing the matter, he shifted the conversation.

"Speaking of becoming stronger, I've been working on an idea," Satoru said, kneeling down and picking up a small rock from the ground. He performed a series of hand seals, pouring his chakra into the rock. Slowly, it morphed, its appearance changing until it became a kunai in his hand.

Keiko's eyes widened, stunned at what she had just witnessed. "Wait... how did you do that?!"

Satoru grinned, twirling the newly formed kunai in his fingers before tossing it into the air and catching it. "It's a little trick I've been working on."

Keiko's curiosity was piqued, her shock evident. "You can't just say that and leave me hanging! Tell me how you did it!"

Satoru chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe one day, but for now, it's my secret technique. I've got to keep some things to myself, don't I? By the way, can you teach me the jutsu ? or you could give me the scroll to learn it "

" will you teach me that technique?" She said as she handed him the scroll.

He accepted the scroll she handed over and examined it. "I'll think about it. I mean, I'll tell you what I did, but not teach you the whole thing. After all, this technique is special." His grin widened, clearly enjoying the little game of mystery.

Keiko was still intrigued by the transformation technique he'd shown her and asked, "What do you call it?"

Satoru scratched his chin, thinking it over. "It's not complete yet, but for now, I'm calling it 'Texture Surprise Grade 1.'"

Keiko looked confused by the name but decided not to question it for now. Instead, she focused on the scroll in his hands, curious to see what he would come up with next.

As Satoru waved goodbye to Keiko and walked back toward the orphanage, his thoughts lingered on her. Her smile, full of curiosity and warmth, had a strange effect on him.

'She's really... cute,' he thought, a feeling of contentment briefly filling him. But just as quickly, that familiar emptiness crept back in. Apathy seeped into his veins, draining away the motivation he had just felt.

By the time he reached the orphanage, the feeling had taken over completely. He stared at the old, weathered sign at the gate, feeling a tightness in his chest. 'This body has some bad memories attached to it,' he thought, the memories of the boy whose body he now inhabited pressing in on him.

It wasn't his pain, not really—but it still weighed heavily on him, as if he had lived through it all.

Entering the orphanage grounds, he spotted Aunty Hana in the playground, playing hide and seek with some of the younger children.

She was pretending not to see them, her voice playful as she wandered around, "Hmm, where could they be?"

The kids giggled from behind their hiding spots, completely absorbed in the game. For a moment, Satoru felt a pang of longing watching them—this was probably the closest thing to family the boy ever had.

Aunty Hana had always been there, the only real maternal figure.

He entered his room quietly, as if not wanting to disturb the lighthearted atmosphere outside. Closing the door behind him, he let out a deep breath and walked over to the small basin to freshen up. The water was cold against his skin, helping him push back the lingering haze of apathy.

'Get it together,' he thought, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The face staring back wasn't entirely his own, but he had to make it work.

He splashed more water on his face, shaking off the weight of the memories.

After drying off, Satoru sat down with a scroll to study, forcing himself to focus.

As he unrolled the scroll and began reading.

As Satoru studied the scroll on the Clone Jutsu, his mind wandered back to his earlier experiment with "Texture Surprise." The technique still needed refinement, but it sparked an entirely new line of thought.

His fingers tingled with the thrill of innovation, the same thrill he felt when he first began experimenting with the Zen'in clan techniques.

His eyes shifted from the scroll to a pencil lying on the desk. An idea struck him. Slowly, he formed a thread of chakra, fine and delicate, like an invisible string. He directed it toward the pencil, latching one end of the chakra thread to it.

With a sharp focus, Satoru pulled the thread using only his chakra control, not moving a muscle.

To his satisfaction, the pencil slid toward him across the desk.

'Interesting…,' he thought, feeling the potential of this new application. He then took it a step further, connecting another end of the thread to an eraser lying nearby.

Once both objects were connected, he placed a finger lightly on the thread, focusing hard to pull the chakra in opposite directions. With a bit of effort, both the eraser and the pencil began to move toward each other, responding to the tension he created in the chakra thread.