Naruto: The Medical Ninja

Chapter 65: Chapter 64: The Healing Melody

The early morning sun cast long shadows across Konoha as Ryu Hamura stepped out of his house, ready for his daily training routine. The crisp air filled his lungs as he took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the day ahead. As he began his warm-up stretches, he couldn’t help but reflect on his progress.

”I’m definitely getting stronger,” Ryu thought, feeling the familiar burn in his muscles. ”But I can’t stop here. There’s still so much room for improvement.”

He set off on a brisk jog, his feet pounding rhythmically against the dirt path. As he thought about time, Ryu’s mind wandered to the imaginary screen he often visualised during his workouts.

In his mind’s eye, he saw a digital display showing his distance covered, heart rate, and even the day’s planned routine.

10-kilometer run (Progress: 2.5 km)

100 pull-ups (Pending)

100 push-ups (Pending)

100 sit-ups (Pending)

Heart rate: 140 bpm

Time: 7:15 AM

Ryu chuckled to himself. ”Great, now I’m turning into my own fitness app. What’s next, a motivational voice telling me to ’keep going’?” He shook his head, amused by his own thoughts.

”But it is also pretty convenient,” he muttered between breaths. ”I wonder if this clock is based on my internal clock. I wonder what more it can do.”

As he rounded a corner, pushing himself to maintain his pace, Ryu’s thoughts turned to his training regimen. ”Should I focus more on strength or stamina?” he pondered, weighing the pros and cons of each approach. ”Nah, I’ll keep it balanced. No point bulking up if I can’t move fast. Agility’s key.”

Reaching a clearing in the park, Ryu transitioned to his strength exercises. He dropped to the ground, ready to begin his push-ups, when he noticed something amiss.

”Damn,” he muttered, realising his resistance band had snapped. Next to him, on the grass, rested the well-known red rubber band he uses for exercise, which had been shattered in half. Ryu continued in spite of the setback, finishing his set of push-ups without the help of the resistance band.

As he finished, wiping sweat from his brow, Ryu couldn’t help but notice how much easier the exercise felt without the band. ”Looks like I’ve improved more than I thought,” he mused, a small smile playing on his lips.

With his workout complete, Ryu jogged back home, his muscles pleasantly sore from the exertion. As he entered the house, he found his adoptive grandfather, Dan, already up and about in the kitchen.

”Morning, Grandpa,” Ryu called out, grabbing a glass of water.

Dan turned, a warm smile on his face. ”Good morning, Ryu. How was your training?”

Ryu took a long drink before responding. ”It went well, but I had a small issue. My resistance band broke during my workout.”

Dan nodded thoughtfully. ”Ah, that can happen with regular use. Why don’t you check the workshop store? We might have something you can use as a replacement.”

”Good idea,” Ryu replied. ”I’ll head there now and see what I can find.”

As Ryu made his way to the storeroom, he couldn’t shake the feeling that today would be different somehow. Little did he know, his simple search for a replacement band would lead to an unexpected discovery.

The workshop store was a cluttered space, filled with various tools, spare parts, and forgotten treasures. Ryu carefully navigated through the maze of shelves and boxes, his eyes scanning for anything that could serve as a makeshift resistance band.

As he pushed aside a stack of old newspapers, something caught his eye. Under years of dust and neglect sat an old, broken piano. Its once-polished surface was now dull and scratched, and its keys yellowed with age.

Ryu’s curiosity piqued. He had always been drawn to music, though he’d never had the opportunity to learn an instrument. But he remembered each note and key from his past life. ”I could probably play something in minutes,” he thought, a testament to his memory and his powerful mind. Without really thinking about it, he found himself drawn to the piano, his initial quest for a resistance band forgotten.

”I can fix this,” he murmured, running his hand along the piano’s worn surface. The challenge of repairing the instrument appealed to him, and before he knew it, hours had passed as he tinkered with the old piano.

Meanwhile, Dan had begun to wonder about Ryu’s prolonged absence. Concern creeping into his voice, he called out, ”Ryu? Are you alright in there?”

When no response came, Dan made his way to the storeroom. As he entered, he was surprised to find Ryu completely engrossed in repairing the old piano. Tools were scattered around him, and several piano keys lay on the floor, waiting to be reattached.

”Ryu?” Dan said softly, not wanting to startle his grandson.

Ryu looked up, a sheepish grin on his face. ”Oh, hey Grandpa. I got a bit sidetracked.”

Dan chuckled, shaking his head. ”I can see that. What inspired this sudden interest in piano repair?”

Ryu shrugged. ”I’m not sure. I just saw it here and thought it would be interesting to try and fix it. Do you play?”

At this question, Dan’s expression changed. A mix of emotions flashed across his face—nostalgia, sadness, and a hint of joy. ”I used to,” he said softly, his eyes distant. ”A long time ago.”

Intrigued by his grandfather’s reaction, Ryu pressed gently, ”Really? I never knew that about you, Grandpa.”

Dan nodded, moving closer to the piano. He ran his fingers along the keys, lost in memories. ”Yes, I used to play with my sister, Tsuki—your grandmother. She was the real talent, though. Her playing was... beautiful.”

Ryu listened intently, hanging on every word. It was rare for his grandfather to speak about the past, especially about his grandmother. ”What happened?” he asked softly.

Dan’s eyes misted over. ”After Tsuki left home, I... I never played again. It didn’t feel right without her.”

A heavy silence fell between them, filled with unspoken emotions and shared loss. Ryu, feeling a need to break the sombre mood, gestured to the piano. ”Well, I’ve mostly fixed it now. Would you like to hear me try to play something?”

Dan nodded, a small smile returning to his face. ”I’d like that very much, Ryu.”

Ryu took a seat on the dusty piano stool, his fingers hovering over the keys. He had never played before, but something inside him seemed to know what to do. He pressed a few random keys at first, getting a feel for the instrument. Then, the random notes turned into a melody.

Almost as if guided by an unseen force, Ryu began to play. The melody that flowed from his fingers was hauntingly familiar—an instrumental version of ’Knocking on Heaven’s Door.’

As the music filled the room, Dan found himself transported. The years seemed to melt away, and for a moment, he could almost see his sister Tsuki sitting at the piano instead of Ryu.

Tears welled up in Dan’s eyes as he watched his grandson play. In his mind’s eye, he saw a ghostly silhouette of Tsuki surrounding Ryu, her presence almost tangible in the music that filled the air.

The apparition of Tsuki turned, meeting Dan’s gaze. A silent moment of understanding passed between them, bridging the gap of years and loss. Then, as if satisfied, the vision of Tsuki returned to watch her grandson play.

As the last notes faded away, Ryu turned to his grandfather, surprised to see tears streaming down the older man’s face.

”Grandpa?” Ryu asked, concerned. ”Are you okay?”

Dan wiped his eyes, a bittersweet smile on his face. ”Yes, Ryu. I’m more than okay. That was... beautiful. You reminded me so much of Tsuki.”

Ryu experienced a surge of warmth in his chest upon hearing his grandfather’s remarks. Though he had never met her grandmother, he had always felt a connection to her, and now he felt more connected to her than ever through music.

Ryu said quietly, ”Thank you, Grandpa. I am happy I could give you some pleasant memories back.”

Dan placed a hand on Ryu’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. ”You’ve done more than that, my boy. This house is filled with happiness and music again thanks to you. I believe that Tsuki would be extremely proud of you.

As they sat together in the dusty storeroom, surrounded by the lingering echoes of the music, Ryu felt a profound sense of connection—to his grandfather, to his lost grandmother, and to a part of himself he was only just beginning to discover.

”Ryu,” Dan said after a moment, ”do you think you could teach me to play? Properly, I mean.”

Ryu’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. ”I’d be honoured, grandpa. We can start now if you’d like.”

This unexpected detour into music had not only strengthened his bond with his grandfather but had also connected him to a part of his family history he had never known.