Ryuji Ida was not so easily reassured. He turned, catching his son by the ear and scolding him in a harsh whisper: "Is ninjutsu sothing so easily learned? Do you think just anyone can beco a ninja? You don't have the talent. Stay honest, be a rchant, and inherit the family business—that is the proper path."
"But Father, I want to be strong to protect you."
"Protect ? With what?" Ryuji let out a bitter laugh. "Keita, I only want you to live a peaceful, ordinary life."
He turned back to Shisui with a fawning smile. "Isn't that right, Master Takigawa? The life of a ninja isn't sothing just anyone can handle."
Shisui glanced at Keita. The boy's eyes were rimd with red, his lips trembling as he fought back tears with stubborn pride.
"Mr. Ida is right," Shisui said calmly. "Ninjutsu requires a specific biological aptitude. Keita does not possess a chakra-conductive constitution. He is truly not suited to be a ninja."
Those words were the final straw. The light in Keita's eyes vanished completely, extinguished like a snuffed candle.
His shoulders slumped, and he walked silently back to the carriage, curling up in the shadows, refusing to speak again.
Ryuji offered a flurry of further apologies before departing, looking weary and troubled.
In the corner, Ichiro Kurosaki sat in silence, chewing on a reheated piece of flatbread. He stole a glance at Shisui, watching the young "master" smile warmly at the boy.
The look in Shisui's eyes was so clear and gentle that one might have thought the horrors in the forest were rely a nightmare.
But the mory of two sets of white bones cooling in the mud told Ichiro otherwise.
Shisui, whose senses were razor-sharp, noticed the gaze. He beckoned Ichiro over and handed him a generous portion of roasted rabbit.
Ichiro accepted it with a grateful nod; the at was well-seasoned and tender—a far cry from the dry rations he was used to.
Night deepened.
The camp settled into a heavy quiet, broken only by the crackle of the dying fire and the rhythmic snoring of the servants and ronin.
Shisui leaned against a tree, eyes closed in a ditative rest. His Kikaichu had spread out in a silent, invisible web, enveloping the entire camp in a sensory network. The conversation inside the Idas' tent drifted clearly into his ears.
"Keita, are you still angry with ?" Ryuji's voice was soft, laced with exhaustion.
"No," Keita mumbled.
"Keita, I know you said those things because you want to protect . But you must understand... the world of the ninja is not the fairy tale you imagine."
"They are powerful."
"Powerful? Yes, they are." Ryuji sighed. "But so what? No matter how powerful a ninja is, they are still just tools. They are the blades in the hands of the Daimyo, the pawns of the nobles, and the hired muscle that we rchants buy with gold."
Keita remained silent.
"Look at Master Takigawa," Ryuji continued. "He is skilled, yes. But why is he here? Why is he willing to protect a small caravan like ours? Because he needs money. He needs missions. He needs to survive."
"But he saved us, and he didn't even ask for paynt."
"He says that now, but when we reach the Hidden Waterfall, I will naturally show my 'gratitude.' Beyond that, we will have to hire another team of ninjas to take us into the Land of Earth. It is all a transaction, Keita."
Ryuji's tone was cold and realistic, stripping away the boy's last illusions of heroism.
"Keita, rember this: in this world, the ones who truly hold the power are not the ninja, nor the samurai. It is those with Authority and Wealth."
"The Daimyo and the nobles... they have no strength of their own, yet they can command hundreds of ninja to die for them. Why? Because they control the resources. They control the land. They control the rules of this world."
The sound of rustling fabric suggested Ryuji had sat up straighter.
"Keita, I didn't bring you to the Land of Earth just for trade. I have already greased the wheels. Once we arrive, I am sending you to the Administrative Bureau to study."
"The Bureau?"
"Yes. It is the think-tank for the Daimyo of the Land of Earth. If you study hard—governance, economics, diplomacy—and catch the eye of a high official, you could beco an official yourself. If you go further, you might even be granted land. You could beco a New Noble."
Ryuji's voice took on a tone of longing. "Then, the Ida family will no longer be re traveling peddlers. We will have land, status, and true dignity.
That is the path you must take. It is a thousand tis better than being a ninja, fighting and killing every day, never knowing if you'll see the next sunrise."
Silence followed for a long ti until Keita's small, confused voice drifted out: "I think I understand, Father."
"Good. Now sleep. We have a long road tomorrow."
The conversation ended.
Under the tree, Shisui opened his eyes. The campfire flickered in the wind. He looked up at the stars, reflecting on Ryuji's words.
A ninja, no matter how powerful, is just a tool.
Was it a joke? No. It was the absolute, unvarnished truth of the Shinobi world.
Even the Hidden Leaf, the strongest of the villages, was ultimately under the financial thumb of the Fire Daimyo.
Ninja risked their lives for scraps of mission fees just to keep the village running. Even the Kage, at the end of the day, was just the sharpest blade in the Daimyo's hand.
Madara Uchiha, Hashirama Senju, even the future "Children of Destiny" Naruto and Sasuke... they could save the world and end rebellions, but the core of the system remained unchanged.
War would return, hatred would persist, and even the greatest strength would eventually be shackled by the sa deford political structure.
Shisui felt a sudden, profound lancholy—not for a lack of power, but for the tragedy of the system.
The commoners envied the power of the ninja, not knowing the ninja envied their peace. The ninja saw themselves as guardians, while the nobles saw them as premium thugs.
The nobles thought they ruled the world, but they could be snuffed out by a single command from above.
Layer upon layer. Link upon link.
Yet, in reality, those without their own strength were truly nothing in the face of a true predator.
He closed his eyes again, his Kikaichu network expanding further. Suddenly, his brow twitched. Two miles to the northwest, there was a faint, distinct ripple of chakra.
The peace of the night was about to end.
🌟 The story is already written… waiting to be unleashed. Claim early access on Patreon: Patreon/kazama677
🔓 You hold the keys to bonus chapters:💬 10 reviews ignite 1 bonus chapter🔷 100 Power Stones summon another
🔥 Your power determines how fast the tale unfolds.
User Comments
0 comments from readers