Naruto: Stormbreaker

Chapter 29: Chapter 29: Population, Depressed

The Academy had mercy today. No classes. No Daiken looming like a judgmental mountain. Just me, my day off, and the delightful opportunity to beat myself up voluntarily.

Apparently, even future child soldiers get holidays. Who knew?

I started my morning the usual way but in the small forest this time. My official trial ground for ninjutsu. I began by stretching, running, and then blasting myself forward across a clearing with increasingly less suicidal Flicker Steps.

Progress, baby.

At first, I could only manage two meters without tasting dirt. Today? I was chaining short bursts together. Still ugly, still twitchy, but faster, cleaner.

I even managed to Flicker to the side of a tree without crashing into it. Definitely worthy of a participation trophy. Or at least a survival badge.

After two hours of training, my legs were vibrating harder than a washing machine on a rocky floor. I called it there. No need to cripple myself before tonight’s main event.

The visit.

I grumbled as I remembered. Shizuru’s parents had invited me for dinner. Apparently, being her ”only friend” made me a charity case worth feeding.

As if my entire existence did not already scream ”stray dog” loud enough.

Still, free food was free food.

Which brought me to the next issue.

It would be rude to show up empty-handed. So, I marched into the market with the grand sum of what could only be described as loose pocket lint and depression jingling in my pocket.

After scanning rows of overpriced fruit baskets and fancy snack boxes, I found it.

A bag of discount rice crackers.

Probably stale.

But it was all I could afford.

Perfect.

I threw in a free decorative ribbon for an extra touch of class after begging the merchant for it. Because if I was going to look broke, I might as well look broke with dignity.

Bag in hand, I made my way to the Nara compound.

After entering the compound, I noticed how quiet and devoid of energy it was. All I could see were a bunch of Nara adults either napping or sitting around, each looking as if they were experiencing an existential crisis. I stared firmly at the ground, deliberately ignoring the depression radiating from every corner, which meant I didn’t see much, only occasionally glancing up to make sure I hadn’t gotten lost. Finally, after carefully following the instructions, I reached Shizuru’s house, tucked into an even quieter part of the compound.

Big house. Worn, but clean. Practical. Like everything about that family.

I knocked once.

Shizuru opened the door and immediately looked like she regretted every decision that led to this moment.

”You actually came,” she muttered.

I held up the crackers like a trophy. ”Brought a gift too. I’m practically a noble now.”

She groaned but stepped aside to let me in.

The moment I crossed the threshold, I felt it.

Pressure.

A sharp, assessing presence brushing against my senses. Like a knife sliding along the skin without cutting. Subtle, but unmistakable.

Someone was watching me very carefully.

And that someone stepped into view.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark hair pulled back. Eyes sharp and cold like a hawk’s.

Shizuru’s father.

I got the same feeling from him that I got from the ANBU who saved me in the woods. So, I figured he had the same occupation.

He seemed like the kind of man who probably killed people before breakfast and filled out paperwork before lunch.

”Father, this is Noa,” Shizuru said stiffly, like she was introducing a stray cat she found on the street.

I nodded politely, trying not to look like a potential threat.

Hard to do when you’re basically a walking chakra battery.

His gaze lingered just a moment too long on me. Sensing. Weighing.

I could feel it. He knew. Or at least he suspected. My chakra reserves were not normal.

He said nothing.

Just nodded once, the tiniest dip of his head. A soldier’s greeting.

Before the tension could snap the air apart, another voice chimed in.

”Welcome! So, you’re the little troublemaker we’ve been hearing about!”

A woman swept into the room. Brown hair, bright eyes, and a grin that could punch holes through stone.

Shizuru’s mother.

She ruffled my hair like I was a toddler and clucked approvingly at the sorry bag of rice crackers I offered.

”Such a polite young man! And look, he even brought a gift!”

Shizuru looked ready to dig a hole and bury herself alive.

”Mom.”

”Shush, dear. It’s cute.”

I was then asked to sit at the table while Shizuru went with her mom to prepare the food.

Her father’s eyes were still on me.

He didn’t even blink.

I thought, ”Well, it’s not only the kids, but also the adults that are extremely weird in this world.”

I half-laughed under the tension while saying, ”You must be proud of Shizuru. She’s extremely smart and doing pretty well in the physical aspect of training as well.”

He nodded in affirmation before adding, ”It looks like I have you to thank for that.”

Then he looked regretful.

”Work takes too much time and energy from me.”

His voice softened slightly.

”I appreciate what you are doing for her.”

I was surprised but nodded appreciatively.

He then said with a curious tone, ”I heard a story from a friend... about an orphan who ran into a bear while exploring the woods.”

His eyes sharpened.

”You don’t happen to know any kid that reckless and irresponsible, do you?”

I shook my head so fast I almost gave myself whiplash.

”No, sir! I am extremely careful and measured in my actions,” I said while thanking every deity that my clothes hid the many bruises from my training.

He nodded slowly and said in a warning tone, ”Recklessness will get you killed in missions. If you want to grow as a shinobi, you must be careful and measured.”

I nodded again seriously just as Shizuru’s mother returned, laughter brightening the room.

”Wow, look at you two getting along. What an unexpected surprise.”

For the first time, I saw Shizuru’s father smile. A real, genuine smile.

Dinner was simple. Rice, grilled fish, vegetables.

Nothing fancy, but it tasted better than anything I had eaten in weeks.

Maybe ever.

Well, aside from that one day I ate BBQ.

I was careful. Ate slowly. Watched my manners.

Shizuru’s father said little, just observed.

Shizuru’s mother filled the silence with teasing stories about how Shizuru once got stuck in a tree trying to spy on birds.

”I was conducting an observational study,” Shizuru hissed, face burning.

I nearly choked on my rice.

Halfway through the meal, her father spoke.

”You train often.”

A statement, not a question.

I nodded. ”Every day.”

”Good.”

He said no more.

But the way he said it... It was approval.

Cautious, but real.

The rest of dinner passed with occasional small talk and a lot of secondhand embarrassment for Shizuru.

She kept shooting me warning glares like daring me to say something stupid.

Please. I had the year-end written test, and I needed Shizuru to keep tutoring me so I could be confident enough not to embarrass myself.

After the meal, I helped clear the dishes.

Shizuru’s mother slipped me a second helping of rice crackers with a wink, whispering, ”For emergencies.”

As we stood at the door, ready to leave, Shizuru’s father gave me one last long look.

”If you intend to make a name for yourself in this world, you will continue training. Continue growing.”

His words were quiet. Firm.

Not a threat.

A demand.

A challenge.

I bowed slightly, more out of instinct than anything else.

”I intend to.”

Shizuru’s father nodded once, satisfied.

As we walked back toward the village center, Shizuru stayed silent for a long time.

Then she mumbled, ”Thanks for not making it worse.”

I shrugged.

”Thanks for the free food. Believe it or not, this is only the second time in my life I’ve eaten until I was actually full.”

She cracked a tiny smile. Barely there. But it counted.

I smirked, stuffing the emergency crackers into my pocket like prized treasure.