Dan and Ryu stepped out of the orphanage, leaving behind a chapter of Ryu's life and embarking on a new journey together.
The scenery reminded Ryu of the time in his childhood when he first read the manga. As they strolled, Dan couldn't help but marvel at the boy's wide-eyed wonder. "Dan chuckled, "You look like you've never seen the village before, kid," he said. Ryu grinned sheepishly and admitted, "Well, I haven't, not really."
Dan and Ryu were on their way to visit an old house nestled on the outskirts of the Hidden Leaf village, where they hoped to start a new chapter in their lives. The house was simple yet practical, adorned with artefacts of a life well lived. Despite its size—too big for just one person—it carried an air of solitude.
"You live alone, Grandpa?" Ryu asked. The house seemed too big for a single occupant, its emptiness echoing with unspoken memories.
Dan's expression mirrored the sorrow in his voice as he answered, "Yes, I used to live in this house with my son and daughter-in-law until fate separated us a year ago."
The mention triggered a memory in Ryu about a historical event related to a nine-tailed fox that caused widespread devastation. Sensing the emotional weight of the topic, Ryu chose not to pry further into the painful past.
As they continued the tour, they entered the kitchen, where Ryu's interest unexpectedly peaked. Having never cooked or even ventured into a kitchen before, he felt a sudden urge to learn.
"After this, could you teach me how to cook, Grandpa?" Ryu asked.
He couldn't bear the thought of burdening his elderly grandfather with the task of cooking indefinitely for him. He thought that he would cook for himself whenever he found time or at least help his grandfather with chores.
Dan raised an eyebrow. "Cook? I thought kids your age were more interested in playing ninja than becoming a chef."
"The majority of children do not have as difficult a life as those in orphanages. Cooking is a skill that is never a waste, and I read somewhere that it is interesting and therapeutic," Ryu retorted.
Dan replied, "You are not wrong. It's an essential skill to have."
On their tour, Dan showed them more of the house, and eventually they came to what looked like a long-forgotten workshop inside the grounds. Ryu asked, "Grandpa, what is this?" with curiosity.
"It's my workshop," Dan explained. "It was our family business to craft weapons. We also make other things, like jewellery and other similar stuff."
Upon hearing Dan's words, a sense of connection enveloped Ryu. He too was a creator and inventor. Reflecting on his own past life as an inventive soul, Ryu entered the workshop, and it gave him nostalgia.
Ryu was delighted to discover a place in his new home that reminded him of a similar spot in his previous residence. He made a mental note to ask Dan to teach him crafting methods of this new world. They would come in handy, and he can also evolve them using his knowledge of his old world.
The library, with its shelves full of Ninjutsu books, caught Ryu's attention as they strolled through the corridors. He touched some books to get the gist of topics covered by this book shelf . Already aware of how much he loved books and knowledge, Dan asked, "Feel free to explore and read to your heart's content here. And there are even more books waiting for you in my vault."
"Thank you, Grandpa," he said, a glimmer of determination in his eyes. "These are general books and ninjutsu books. But I need medical books right now."
Before diving deeply into the world of Ninjutsu, Ryu recognised the more urgent need for medical texts to address his own health issues.
Dan was surprised by the request. "Medical books? But why the urgency?"
Ryu hesitated for a moment before answering, "I aim to gain a deeper understanding of my condition. Perhaps with enough knowledge, I can help the doctors find a cure."
Surprised, Dan asked, "You are so determined to cure yourself. Are you sure you can do what other healers and medical professionals can't?"
Ryu smiled and replied, "Grandpa, did you know that the human brain can store an infinite amount of information? It's just a matter of how we access and process it."
"I don't know what you are trying to say," Dan said.
Ryu replied, "I have a perfect memory. I have already memorised all the medical books Mother Yuki had in her private office at the orphanage. I pick things up faster than adults do. Despite my physical weakness and inability to perform heavy labour, I will not be able to outperform any adult in mental tasks. You could also claim that I have a medical condition of perfect memory."
Dan was unprepared for the shocking disclosure. Although he was aware that ninjas are trained to memorise information more quickly and effectively, he was still taken aback by the claim of a 6-year-old child that his untrained memory outperforms the trained memory of seasoned ninjas.
Dan shook his head and thought, 'How much more is this kid going to surprise me? I need to tell Yuki this. Maybe he can do the impossible.'
Dan wanted to believe in him. He has now awakened a little faith. He believed the boy could do what other healers and professionally trained medical ninjas could not.
Dan guided Ryu to a room that had belonged to Dan's own son. Ryu looked into the room. The walls were adorned with faded photographs—frozen moments of a family's happiness.
"This will be your new room," he said. He then continued with a little sadness, "This room earlier belonged to my son."
When Ryu looked around the room that would now be his own, his heart paused. It was a place where the echoes of a family history he had not shared were still present. A framed photo of Dan's son and daughter-in-law, their smiles captured in time, caught Ryu's attention. He felt a twinge of sorrow and a desire for something he had never experienced.
Dan's voice interrupted Ryu's thoughts as he offered, "I will clear the room for you."
Ryu said with a smile on his face, "That won't be necessary, Grandpa."
Despite Dan's willingness to accommodate him, Ryu's unexpected refusal surprised him.
There's no need to clear anything out; leave everything as it is. This room is decorated with so many memories that I don't want to change anything."
With a determined expression, he explained, "I never had the chance to know my dad, but from now on, this room represents the family I never had."
Ryu's words carried the weight of an unspoken desire and a hole in his heart from the loss of a past he could not recall from this life and a past he did remember from a previous one that was also devoid of any pleasant memories of his parrents. In a past life he lost his mother to cancer and his father to a second marriage. All his younger siblings saw him as a rival; the only family he had was his elder brother Robert.
He looked at Dan and continued, "Even if I have perfect memory, I don't even remember how he looked. Even the face of my mother is very faint in my memory."
And in that moment, he made a decision that would change both their lives forever.
"I may not have lost parents of my own," Ryu began, his voice steady, "but from today onwards, the people in this photo frame can be my parents. I want to honour the memory of your son and daughter-in-law and carry their legacy forward. From now on, this is my family."
Although this family may not be his biological one, the loss of his mother in his previous life still weighed heavily on him. He now really wants to consider this family like his own in this life.
Dan's eyes filled with tears, a mixture of happiness and sadness pulsing through them. This young man had entered his life like a puzzle piece, and his heart grew with pride and love for him.
Consumed by a renewed sense of belonging in the old house, Ryu turned to his adoptive grandfather as they sat in the last light of the day with a question that gnawed at the back of his mind and pulled at his very being.
Ryu, with a thoughtful expression, remarked, "I want to understand where I come from. I want to know about my family history and about my family."