Sunday's dawn brought with it a thicker-than-usual Mist. Ren awoke before the sun, preparing for his morning practice, when he found his father waiting for him in the courtyard, two bokkens in hand.
"Tatsumi-sensei is not available today," Toshiro said, throwing one of the bokken at Ren. "So I'll take care of your training."
Something in his father's tone made Ren realize that this would not be a normal training session.
"First position," Toshiro ordered, his voice unusually stern. "Show me the basic vertical cut."
Ren performed the movement he had practiced in previous weeks.
"Again," his father said. "And this time, focus on precision. Not on strength."
The bokken hissed through the air as Ren repeated the movement.
"Again. Force means nothing if you don't hit the target." Toshiro approached, correcting Ren's posture with precise touches.
"The Mizutani style does not tolerate useless movements. Every gesture must have a purpose."
For the next three hours, Ren repeated the same movement. Once, ten times, a hundred times. When his arm trembled from the effort, Toshiro showed no mercy.
"The ninjas out there will not be merciful," he said, his voice as sharp as a blade. "One mistake and it's over. There's no room for hesitation, no room for weariness."
'This is different than usual,' Ren thought, noticing the change in his father's attitude. 'Harder, more ... urgent.'
When they finally switched to sparring, Toshiro did not hold back his blows. Every time Ren let his guard down, his father's bokken found an opening, leaving bruises that would last for days.
"Not fast enough," Toshiro commented after yet another blow. "If you had been an enemy, you would have died five times already."
When they finally stopped for lunch, Ren was exhausted and covered in bruises. As he headed home to freshen up, he caught fragments of a conversation between his parents in the kitchen.
"You were too hard on him," his mother's voice was concerned.
"Not as hard as the world out there will be," Toshiro replied, a shadow of sadness in his voice. "Things are changing, Yuki. The village-it's not the same anymore. Sometimes we have to be tough to prepare those we love for the difficulties to come."
"He's just a child..."
"He is a ninja in training. And I'm his father. I don't have the luxury of being nice all the time, not if I want him to survive in this world."
Lunch was quiet, almost silent. Ren could feel his mother's concern and the weight of responsibility on his father's shoulders.
In the afternoon, he headed for the center of the village, where he had an appointment with his friends. He found Aoi, Jun'ko and Shinji waiting for him, but with them was also an unexpected figure.
"I also invited Yukiko," Jun'ko announced with a smile. "I hope you don't mind!"
For once, Ren had decided to give himself a real moment of rest. The group wandered the streets, with Jun'ko telling exaggerated stories of his "secret missions" (which consisted mainly of stealing sweets from the home kitchen), Aoi trying to explain the chemical composition of dango, and Shinji laughing at their antics.
It was then that they heard a commotion coming from a side alley. Misaki Kurushimi and two other students were surrounding Touma, a quiet student in their class.
"Please leave me alone," Touma's voice trembled slightly.
"Why?" Misaki's smile was dangerously sweet. "I only asked to talk."
Jun'ko moved before anyone could stop her. "Hey! Three against one doesn't seem very fair!"
Yukiko followed, the temperature around her beginning to drop visibly.
Ren stayed behind, watching the scene carefully. 'I can't draw too much attention,' he thought. 'But if things escalate...'
"Don't get involved," Misaki hissed, her chakra visibly pulsing. Small drops of blood began to levitate around her, her kekkei genkai manifesting in response to her anger.
Yukiko responded by creating ice crystals that danced in the air. The tension was palpable.
It was then that the murmuring began.
"Them again..." "These monsters with their kekkei genkai..." "Why do they let them roam freely?" "They don't belong here..."
Misaki's expression hardened, but something in his eyes changed. "Let's leave," he said to his companions. "My fun is over."
Only after they had left did Touma reveal the truth: Misaki had only tried to talk to him, to get to know him better, but he had rejected her brutally, afraid of her reputation and her kekkei genkai.
'It's no different from how they treated Naruto,' Ren reflected. 'Fear breeds hate, and hate breeds isolation.'
The group tried to lighten the mood. Jun'ko began to imitate Fujimoto-sensei's stern expressions, Aoi tried to scientifically explain why the dangos of a particular vendor were superior to others, and even Shinji joined in by telling about the time he had accidentally created a coral sculpture in the shape of a duck.
But when the others left, Yukiko stayed behind with Ren.
"I understand her, you know?" she said suddenly. "Misaki. To be looked at as monsters, feared for something we were born with..." He paused, looking down at his hands. "Sometimes I think they are right to fear us."
Ren looked at her for a moment, then said, "Do you know what the difference is between a monster and a hero?"
Yukiko looked at him questioningly.
"It's not the power they possess," Ren continued, "but how they choose to use it. Your ice can protect as much as it can hurt. It is your choice that makes the difference."
Yukiko's eyes widened slightly, as if she was seeing something new. "You sound like an adult Mizutani-kun."
' Yes, in uncle Ben mode today,' Ren thought with a wry smile.
The mist was thickening around them, hiding the shadows moving across the rooftops. In the distance, an unspecified figure was watching the scene with growing interest.