Chucking the bloodied corpse to the ground, I took a deep breath, trying to steady the swirl of emotions inside me. I glanced at Reika-sensei, forcing a somewhat fake smile to show I was okay, or at least, that's what I wanted to project.
She caught my eye, pausing for a moment before reaching out to ruffle my hair in a comforting gesture. Then she moved over to Shisui, placing her hand on his head as well, offering the same small comfort.
"You kids doing okay?" she asked softly, her voice laced with genuine concern. "I know the first kill is always the worst, but it's just what we have to do as ninja to keep our village safe from outside forces."
I nodded, though it felt automatic, my mind still buzzing. I wasn't sure if I was okay. Could anyone be okay after what we'd just done?
Next to me, Shisui spoke up, his voice small. "Reika-sensei, does it ever get easier?"
Reika-sensei grimaced, shaking her head slowly. "Unfortunately, I can't say that it does," she admitted. Her voice softened even further, and her eyes seemed to look beyond us, lost in thought. "What I can tell you, though, is that you'll find your own reasoning for why we do what we do."
She hesitated, her usual calm facade cracking just a little. "For example, my reason is my little six-year-old brother. He has a chronic illness that will never be cured, and there's not much I can do to help him. The only way I feel like I can make a difference is by protecting the village, and by extension, protecting him."
Shisui and I shared a look, both of us taken aback by this revelation. Reika-sensei was always so composed, so in control, that it was hard to imagine her dealing with something so personal, something that weighed so heavily on her heart. It was a glimpse into her life we hadn't expected, and it made her more real to us somehow.
"Once you find your own reason to fight," she continued, her voice steady again, "you'll be able to unload some of that guilt. It won't ever go away completely, but it gets muffled over time. The burden becomes bearable."
She smiled warmly, placing a hand on each of our shoulders, her touch gentle but firm. "If you ever have any doubts or feelings you need to talk through, don't hesitate to come to me. I'm going to be your sensei from now on, and part of that job is helping you navigate this life. Don't be a stranger, alright?"
Then, in an unexpected show of affection, she pulled both me and Shisui into a hug, wrapping an arm around each of us. For a brief moment, all the tension, the fear, and the darkness melted away as we stood there, the three of us. There was something about the warmth of her embrace, about the way we fit together in that moment, that made it feel like everything would be okay—even if just for now.
"Okay," Reika-sensei said, breaking the hug with a lighthearted smile. "Enough of all this. We need to set up camp for the night. I'll take the first shift. Shisui, you're on second, and Shiro, you'll be on the third until the sun comes up."
We both nodded, our emotions still raw but soothed, and rushed off to set up the camp, gathering sleeping bags and wood for a fire to cook our dinner. The forest around us felt quieter now, the tension from the earlier battle fading into the background as we fell into the familiar rhythm of preparing for the night.
As Shisui and I moved about, setting up camp, I noticed Reika-sensei standing off to the side, her eyes distant as she watched us. There was a small frown on her face, her brow furrowed with something that looked like concern. She stood still for a long moment, her gaze lingering on us before she turned back to the campfire.
I wondered what she was thinking, though I wouldn't find out until later.
---
Reika watched the two young boys running around, eager to finish their tasks and settle in for the night. But despite the smiles they were trying to show, she could see the weight in their shoulders, the way their movements were just a bit slower, more deliberate. It hurt her heart to see kids as young as them thrust into such situations.
'Does sending children like them out on missions like this not go against everything our village was founded for?' she thought, her frown deepening. 'They're only seven. They haven't even lived a full childhood, and here they are, taking lives. Forced to grow up too fast.'
Her mind wandered back to her own first kill, the confusion and guilt that had haunted her for weeks afterward. She had found her own reasons for fighting, but the process of finding peace with the role of a shinobi was long and painful. She had hoped that children like Shiro and Shisui could be spared from that burden for a little while longer.
'We pride ourselves on protecting the future, yet we send that same future into battle before they've even had a chance to live.' Her hand clenched slightly at her side, her lips pressed into a thin line. 'We really are hypocrites, aren't we?'
With a sigh, she shook her head and walked toward the fire, her thoughts heavy. But for now, her focus had to be on keeping them safe, and making sure they knew they weren't alone in this cruel reality. She would be there for them, however long they needed her.
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**Rustle, rustle, rustle.**
The soft sounds of the forest stirred me awake. My eyes popped open, and I jumped slightly inside my sleeping bag, startled by the unexpected noise. The moon hung high in the sky, shining like a polished diamond, casting its silvery light across the campsite. I let out a long sigh. 'It's not even past the first shift yet.' I hesitated, but sleep was gone now, slipping away into the night. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"Shiro," Reika-sensei's voice cut through the symphony of forest life around us, soft but firm. She was seated a few feet away, keeping watch during her shift. "You should go back to sleep. It's important that you're fully rested for your shift; otherwise, you could end up putting everyone in a compromised position."
"I know," I mumbled, my gaze drifting to the ground. "But... I've had something on my mind ever since earlier tonight."
Reika-sensei's expression softened. She stood up and moved closer, sitting down beside me. "Mhm. And what's been bothering you, Shiro?" Her voice was calm, almost maternal, and she waited patiently for me to find my words.
I hesitated, the words I wanted to say swirling in my mind, but none of them felt right. 'How do I explain this without sounding like... like a monster?' I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady myself. Reika-sensei placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Take your time, Shiro. You can tell me anything. That's what I'm here for," she reassured me.
After a long pause, I finally spoke. "It's about the bandit... the one I killed." My voice shook a little, but I pushed forward. "When we had him tied up, and he started begging for his life... when I pressed the kunai to his throat, I felt something strange." I swallowed, glancing at her before looking away again. "It felt good, sensei. Really good. Like the way I feel when I'm with my family, or when I hit every bullseye with my shuriken. Holding that kunai to his neck... it made me feel powerful. Should I have felt that way? Is it normal to feel... like that?" I finished in a rush, my words tumbling out, almost afraid of the answer.
For a moment, there was only the sound of the forest—leaves rustling in the breeze, insects chirping. Then I heard something unexpected: a soft giggle.
I snapped my head around, my eyes wide in confusion. Reika-sensei was smiling, her expression light as she flicked my nose playfully. "Is that all? Do I have a little sadist on my hands then?" she teased, giggling again before her demeanor shifted back to seriousness, though her smile remained.
"Shiro, listen," she began, her voice still gentle. "I'm not too worried about you. What you're describing isn't as unusual as you might think. You probably already know that my clan, the Yamanaka, deals with minds—reading them, controlling them, helping them heal. We see all kinds of mental states, especially among ninja. And honestly? About 55 to 60 percent of shinobi experience some form of sadism at some point in their careers."
I blinked, surprised. I hadn't expected that at all.
She continued, "Whether it's the head of the interrogation department or a certain... creepy snake we have in the medical field, a lot of shinobi have felt what you're feeling. That rush of power, that high when you're in control of someone's fate. It's not something you should worry too much about, especially now. You're young, you're learning about yourself, and you're figuring out how to process these feelings." Her words were measured, designed to ease the weight I'd been carrying since that moment.
I nodded slowly, feeling some of the tension leave my chest. 'So... I'm not alone in this. I'm not broken.'
Reika-sensei smiled warmly, clearly noticing the shift in my expression. "Seriously, Shiro, it's not as uncommon as you think. Plenty of ninja get that kick out of what we do. Personally, I'm not a fan of it myself, but I know plenty of shinobi who are. And they're good people—great, even—so long as you're not on the other side of the battlefield. Don't dwell on it too much. We all cope in different ways."
She paused, her voice taking on a more mischievous tone. "So, as long as they're an enemy, go for it. Make them feel despair so deep they can't climb out of it." She winked, lightening the mood.
A smile crept back onto my face, and I felt the weight I'd been carrying lift a little more. 'I'm not alone. Maybe this is something I'll learn to live with, like she said.'
"You know, after all that, I think I'm feeling more tired than before," I admitted, a wide yawn breaking through my words.
"Good," Reika-sensei replied with a grin. "Now lay back down and get some sleep. I want you at your best when it's your turn for guard duty, okay?"
"Yes, ma'am," I said, saluting her with mock seriousness before settling back into my sleeping bag.
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The rest of the trip back to the village was quieter than I had anticipated. After everything that had happened, though, I was grateful for the peace. Shisui seemed to agree, his usual chatter reduced to thoughtful silences. The weight of our first mission, mentally exhausting as it was, hung between us, but neither of us complained.
When we finally arrived back at the village gates, Reika-sensei gave us a nod. "I've got to report the mission to Lord Third," she said, her tone more relaxed now that we were back within the village's walls. "You two should head home, get some rest. You've earned it."
Shisui and I nodded, eager to take her advice. There was something comforting about the idea of just going home and collapsing into bed after everything we'd been through. "Yes, sensei," we replied in unison, before turning and making our way back to the Uchiha compound.
As we walked through the village, Shisui broke the silence. "You know, this mission was a wake-up call. Sure, we took out those bandits, but it made me realize just how far we have to go." His tone was serious, thoughtful. "We're not strong enough yet, not if we're going to be doing more missions outside the village."
I nodded in agreement, my mind already going over ways we could improve. "Exactly. We handled the bandits, but I couldn't stop thinking about how unprepared we might be if something bigger happened. If we faced real shinobi, we might not be so lucky."
Shisui, always quick to come up with a plan, tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I've been thinking about this a lot. How about we start training every day we're off? From 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. We can focus on different skills—taijutsu, ninjutsu, genjutsu—take lunch breaks in between, and adjust the schedule if it doesn't work. But we need to push ourselves harder."
I grinned. Leave it to Shisui to come up with a strict training regimen right after a mission. "I'm in. That schedule sounds solid. It'll give us plenty of time to cover everything we need to improve."
We walked a little further, the Uchiha clan compound growing closer with each step, the familiar sight of our homes bringing a sense of comfort. As we approached the road where we usually split off toward our respective houses, I turned to him, holding out my hand. "Alright, Shi, let's rest up for a couple of days, then we'll start that training. Deal?"
Shisui's face lit up with a grin as we locked into our signature half-fireball handshake. "Deal. I'll see you in a couple of days, Shiro."
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Walking back into my house, the familiar aroma of food cooking filled the air, and I couldn't help but smile. The warm, comforting scent immediately washed away the lingering stress from the mission. Without thinking, my feet carried me toward the kitchen, where I heard my parents' voices, chatting quietly.
"I'm back, Mom and Dad," I called out, stepping into the room to see them.
My mom's eyes lit up the moment she saw me. "Oh, you're back, honey!" she cried, rushing toward me at what felt like blinding speed. Before I could react, she scooped me up in a tight hug, squeezing me until I could feel the bones in my body crack.
"It's nice to be back, Mom," I wheezed, trying to laugh as she finally loosened her grip a little.
She pulled back slightly, but her barrage of questions came at me almost immediately. "How was the mission? Did everything go according to plan? You didn't get hurt, did you?"
I chuckled, shaking my head at her concern. "I'm fine, Mom. The mission went well. I didn't get hurt at all, I promise." I gently pushed against her, hoping she'd ease her grip even more. "You can let go just a bit."
She smiled, but before she could say more, my dad stood up from the table and walked over, his face more serious. "Your eyes... they feel different." His voice was calm but direct. "Activate your Sharingan real quick," he said, his words catching me off guard.
I blinked in surprise but nodded, doing as he asked. I focused my chakra, directing it to my eyes, and felt the familiar sensation of my Sharingan spinning into place. The crimson glow lit up the room slightly, and I glanced at him, wondering what he was sensing.
My father's own Sharingan activated in response, his three tomoe swirling as he examined mine carefully. His expression softened after a moment, a slight nod of approval. "Good, everything seems fine. It just threw me off for a second. The power coming from it—it's stronger now, especially the yin chakra. You must've had your first kill, didn't you?" he asked, a note of concern in his voice.
I nodded, my smile tinged with sadness. Though I felt more at peace after talking things through with Reika-sensei, the weight of that moment was still fresh in my mind. "Yeah," I admitted, "our sensei made Shisui and me tie up a bandit and kill them. I unlocked my second tomoe during it, and Shisui awakened his Sharingan too."
My dad let out a deep sigh, his hand finding its way to my shoulder. My mom, standing beside him, gave me the same sad, understanding smile. It was as if they both knew exactly what I was feeling, remembering their own first kills.
"It's okay, bud," my dad said, his voice gentle. "The first time is always the hardest. But from here on out, it gets easier. You're on the path now, and you'll only get stronger." He ruffled my hair, his smile soft but proud.
My mom hugged me again, her touch filled with the same warmth I'd felt earlier. "He's right, sweetie. Everyone remembers their first kill. It's a defining moment, and for us Uchiha, it usually happens around the time we awaken our first tomoe. What you're feeling is natural."
I felt the tension ease out of me, the weight on my chest lifting just a bit. "Thanks, Mom, Dad."
"Why don't you go get cleaned up?" my mom suggested, stepping back toward the stove. "I'll finish up dinner, and we'll all eat together, okay?"
"Okay, Mom," I said, giving her a grateful smile. "Thanks, guys."
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(A/N: It's a pretty long chapter, but I just wanted to cap the whole mission off within this chapter instead of dragging it on. Did it feel too rushed, or was it just right? Let me know your thoughts on the couple of characters that have been shown thus far and if you're enjoying the story.)