As Satoru and Keiko walked toward her home, their conversation grew deeper. Satoru's curiosity got the better of him, and he asked why she didn't live with the rest of her clan in the compound.
Keiko looked down, her voice soft as she explained,
"The clan wanted to distance themselves from my father and me as much as possible. They only gave me a small apartment, barely enough money to live on."
Satoru frowned, trying to understand why a family would go to such lengths. "Why does the clan go so far just to push you and your father away?"
Keiko hesitated but then revealed the truth. "Our clan descends from samurais. They take their reputation very seriously. My father's actions caused our clan to fall from grace, turning us into a minor clan. We lost a lot of privileges because of him."
Intrigued, Satoru asked again, "So, what are they doing to regain their reputation?"
"They're trying to expand into business and work closely with the village elders to regain the Hokage's trust," she replied.
After a pause, Satoru looked at her one more time and asked, "What's your clan's name?"
"Zen'in," Keiko said, her voice barely above a whisper.
They soon reached her small apartment, and after exchanging goodbyes, Satoru made his way back to the orphanage.
His mind was racing with everything he had just learned. The Zen'in clan's story piqued his curiosity, especially their fall from being a prominent clan. 'What could her father have done to cause such disgrace?'
By the time he reached the orphanage, Satoru had already formulated a plan in his head. Without wasting a second, he went straight to Aunty Hana and asked, "Do we have any old newspapers here?"
Aunty Hana, surprised by the sudden request, raised an eyebrow. "Why do you need old newspapers?"
Satoru smiled, thinking quickly. "It's for a school project. I need to research something."
Though skeptical, Aunty Hana nodded, calling over a staff member and instructing them to bring all the old newspapers they had to Satoru's room.
He waited eagerly, and soon, a pile of yellowed, worn-out newspapers filled his room. But this was only the beginning.
The next morning, Satoru's plan went into overdrive. It was a weekend, and instead of resting, he spent the entire day going door to door, asking anyone he could—friendly neighbors, classmates' parents, even the local shops—for their old newspapers.
Many were curious but obliged, offering whatever they had stored away.
By the time Sunday evening arrived, the room he shared with Tatsuo was filled halfway with stacks of newspapers, some dating back years.
Tatsuo, standing by the doorway, stared wide-eyed at the clutter, clearly both scared and confused.
"What in the world are you planning, Satoru?" Tatsuo asked, his voice filled with concern.
"What kind of villainous idea has entered your mind all of a sudden?"
Satoru just smiled mysteriously, his mind already racing with the next steps of his investigation.
After a few weeks of intense work, Satoru had finally gathered enough old newspapers. With everything spread out in his room, he enlisted the help of Dai and Tatsuo to search for any information related to the Zen'in clan.
"Alright, guys," Satoru said, sitting amidst the mountain of papers, "I need you both to help me dig through these. We're looking for anything on the Zen'in clan."
Tatsuo frowned, crossing his arms. "Only if you keep your promise—ramen, every day, for an entire month." He grinned.
Dai, chimed in, "And don't forget the shinobi weights. My training's about to get even more youthful thanks to you!"
Satoru sighed, feeling the weight of his now-empty wallet. "Yeah, yeah, you'll get your rewards. I better find something valuable in here for all this."
Meanwhile, at school, Naoya had a hard time bullying Keiko. Satoru had paid some of his older friends in the sixth grade to keep an eye on her.
They were more than happy to help, especially with the bonus Satoru offered them. And when the seniors weren't available, Sakumo or Dai stepped in.
One time, Naoya made the mistake of underestimating Sakumo. He tried to attack Keiko, but Sakumo grabbed him effortlessly, throwing him out of the classroom window.
Naoya tumbled into the schoolyard, humiliated and furious, but he didn't dare challenge Sakumo again.
After class that day, Satoru approached Mitsuki-sensei. "Sensei, could you teach me the transformation jutsu? I need proper guidance."
Mitsuki-sensei shook her head with a smile. "You're eager, but the transformation jutsu is part of the standard curriculum for fourth-year students. I can't teach it to you without permission from the academy."
Not one to give up easily, Satoru sought out Keiko. He found her sitting by herself near the courtyard and approached her with his request.
"Keiko,do you think you can help me with the transformation jutsu? I need someone to teach me," Satoru said.
Keiko hesitated, her voice unsure. "I-I don't know it very well, but… I'll try to help. I'm not sure how much use I'll be."
"That's okay," Satoru reassured her. "We'll figure it out together."
Over the next few weeks, they practiced. Keiko fumbled through the jutsu, but her mistakes helped Satoru understand the finer details.
During this time, Naoya struggled to get close to Keiko, thanks to the ever-watchful eyes of her protectors. He only managed to throw insults at her from a distance, which she quickly learned to ignore.
Satoru knew, though, that his time was limited. Next year, Naoya would be in the sixth grade, and Satoru wouldn't be able to rely on the seniors for protection. That thought drove him to practice harder.
He started with small changes to his appearance, altering his nose, eyes, or hair length.
At first, people easily spotted the flaws in his transformations—the nose would be too big, or his movements wouldn't match the person he was trying to imitate.
But over time, Satoru's skill improved. He practiced for hours, tweaking not only his appearance but also learning to mimic others' voices, body language, and mannerisms.
His goal was perfection. Months of dedication paid off as he finally mastered the jutsu, able to flawlessly transform into someone else and act like them without raising suspicion.
Yet, Satoru wasn't content with just mastering the basics.
He began experimenting with creative uses for the jutsu, planning ways it could help protect Keiko and perhaps even turn the tables on Naoya.
When the trio—Satoru, Dai, and Tatsuo—worked through the mountain of newspapers, it took them a full two weeks to find everything they needed. Satoru, collected the most important cutouts and statements about the Zen'in clan. The rest of the newspapers, no longer useful, were burned in the orphanage's backyard.
As the flames crackled, Satoru stared at the burning papers.
'I have to remember every detail,' he thought, committing everything from the cutouts to memory. This information would be crucial for the plan he was slowly piecing together.
Once he had mastered the transformation jutsu, Satoru began wandering around the village in various disguises. He approached people in markets, tea houses, and even near the clan compounds, subtly asking questions about the Zen'in clan.
Their reputation in the business world was a key part of what he needed to understand. Every little rumor, every bit of gossip about their business dealings, he tucked away in his mind.
But as the exams for the second grade loomed closer, with only four months remaining, Satoru knew it was time to step into the shadows.
His plans were too delicate to be caught now, so he chose to lay low in his normal life.
However, in secret, he developed an alter ego using the transformation jutsu.
Wearing a mask, Satoru began venturing into areas of the village with high crime rates—places most shinobi students avoided. His targets were always non-shinobi civilians involved in criminal activities.
Breaking into their homes, he stole money but ensured he never killed or hurt anyone too badly.
Against another shinobi, Satoru knew he was still weak. But against regular civilians, he felt invincible—like a super soldier from a past life.
He didn't steal often, just three or four times, making sure not to draw too much attention. Every time, he made sure to leave no trace of who he was or where he came from.
The money he collected wasn't for luxury or selfish purposes. Instead, he used it to hire a personal investigator.
In the shinobi world, finding a personal investigator was easy. Many were former shinobi or civilians with deep knowledge of the underground network. Satoru gave the investigator one task:
gather any and all information on the Zen'in clan and their business dealings.
It was a dangerous move, but Satoru knew it was necessary to truly understand what Keiko's family was involved in.
It was two months before the exams, and Satoru found himself working on the lawn of Mr. Sonoda's grand estate. The overgrown branches and wild weeds had taken over, but for Satoru, this was now routine.
He plucked the weeds with precision and trimmed the branches with a practiced hand, transforming the chaotic garden into a pristine work of art.
The quiet rhythm of his work suited him, providing both peace and time to think.
Mr. Sonoda, a man of few words, sat inside with two other gentlemen, deep in conversation over drinks. Sonoda was the kind of man who preferred intimate gatherings, avoiding big crowds and preferring to conduct business in the comfort of his home.
He was heavily involved in the timber and logging business, a company owned by the Zen'in clan and responsible for a significant portion of the village's wood and plant exports.
One of the men, swirling his drink, glanced out the window and saw Satoru working. "Who's the kid?" he asked, curiosity piqued by the young boy's dedication to the task.
Sonoda, taking a sip of his own drink, smiled slightly. "That boy's something else. You wouldn't believe how quickly he can turn a neglected lawn into a masterpiece.
I stopped hiring genins after he started working for me. Saves me the hassle, and his work is better than any so-called 'professional' landscapers I've hired before."
The other man leaned back, impressed. "Maybe I should hire him. My lawn's a mess. Give the kid my address."
A few minutes later, Satoru finished his work, wiping the sweat from his forehead and surveying the neatly manicured lawn. Satisfied with the result, he approached Mr. Sonoda and the two men.
"Excuse me, Mr. Sonoda," he said politely. "I've finished. May I take my leave now?"
Sonoda nodded in approval, and the other man, eager to hire him, leaned forward. "You know, I could use someone like you at my place. Think you could spare the time?"
Satoru, never missing an opportunity, smiled. "I'd be happy to help. And if you ever need more than just lawn care, my cooking and cleaning skills are just as good."
The man chuckled. "A multi-talented kid, huh? I like that. I'll be in touch."
Satoru bowed respectfully and left, mentally filing away the conversation.
The lawn work was just a side gig, something to keep his mind and body occupied while he prepared for what truly mattered. But every little bit helped, and making connections like this could be useful in ways beyond just earning a little extra cash.
It was midnight, and Satoru stood hidden in the shadows, his face obscured by the transformation jutsu. The streets were quiet, the only sound being the faint rustle of wind through the leaves.
He saw the silhouette of the investigator approaching from the far end of the alley, carrying a briefcase. The man walked with an expression unreadable in the dim light.
When the investigator finally reached him, he opened the briefcase and handed Satoru a slim folder. "This is the information I managed to gather over the month," the investigator said in a low voice, glancing around to ensure they weren't being watched.
Satoru nodded, his eyes scanning the folder briefly. "Thank you," he muttered, before pulling out a bundle of cash from inside his coat. He handed it to the investigator, who took it without hesitation.
"Keep working," Satoru instructed. The investigator simply nodded, shutting the briefcase and disappearing into the darkness as quickly as he had come.
Satoru slipped the folder into his bag and made his way back to the orphanage, moving silently through the empty streets.
He reached the familiar walls and expertly climbed up to his room window, slipping inside without making a sound. Tatsuo, as usual, was fast asleep, snoring softly under his blanket, oblivious to everything.
Satoru glanced over at his desk, where a thick textbook meant for fourth graders lay open. He quietly closed the book and slid it back into its place, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over him.
The folder in his bag felt heavy as well, not in mass, but in the knowledge it promised. Tomorrow would be another day of deciphering the Zen'in clan's secrets.
With a quiet sigh, he crawled into bed, pulling the blanket over himself. His mind raced for a few moments, thoughts swirling around the information he had just received.
But eventually, the weight of the day overtook him, and he drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.