Sitting beneath the shade of a lone acacia tree, Hiroshi stared at the barren expanse of Sunagakure's outskirts. The sun blazed overhead, its relentless heat a constant reminder of the desert's harsh reality. His small hands rested on his knees, fingers unconsciously tracing circles in the sand as his thoughts churned.
The old man's offer echoed in his mind: "Become my disciple."
It wasn't an opportunity Hiroshi had anticipated. He'd expected to find a shop, buy the materials he needed, and start crafting his first puppet. But as he reflected, it became clear how naïve that plan had been.
Sure, he'd been an engineer in his past life. Building things was second nature to him—designing systems, solving complex problems, making concepts come to life. But here, in this new world, things were different. Resources were scarce. Technology, as he understood it, didn't exist. Crafting a functional puppet, especially one that could be controlled with chakra, wasn't as simple as assembling machine parts.
Trial and error. That's what his plan would've boiled down to—hours spent carving joints that didn't move right, wasting precious materials on flawed designs, and struggling to replicate even the simplest of mechanisms. Not to mention, he barely understood chakra threads, let alone how to integrate them into a puppet. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how steep the learning curve truly was.
What were the odds I'd succeed on my own?
Hiroshi exhaled, shaking his head. He hated the idea of failure. Even as a child, he'd set lofty goals for himself, and this life was no exception. But now, there was a path forward—a path he hadn't expected but one he couldn't ignore.
The old man's offer wasn't just about mentorship; it was about resources, guidance, and tradition. Materials had been a significant concern for Hiroshi. Where would he even begin to source things like desert ironwood or high-grade steel for joints? Buying them in bulk would cost more than his family could afford, and he'd hate to waste the little money they had on failed experiments. But with the old man, those worries diminished.
He'll know where to get the best materials. He'll teach me how to use them properly.
That alone was a game-changer. In Hiroshi's old world, having access to the right tools and materials often made the difference between success and failure. He'd seen too many projects fail because of shoddy components or lack of expertise. And now, not only did he have access to someone who knew the craft inside and out, but he also had a chance to learn from decades—maybe even a lifetime—of experience.
And then there was the matter of time. Hiroshi had already felt the pressure of his dreams looming over him. Becoming a master puppeteer, designing groundbreaking creations, and integrating modern engineering principles into an ancient art—it was a monumental task. Starting from scratch without guidance would waste precious years. But with the old man's help, he could leapfrog many of the pitfalls.
This is the smart choice, he told himself. If I try to do everything alone, I'll spend more time failing than learning. But with him, I'll have direction. I'll know exactly what to focus on. My chances of achieving my dream just skyrocketed.
Of course, there was still a sliver of hesitation. Hiroshi wasn't used to relying on others. His past life had taught him to be independent, to carve his own path. Accepting help felt... odd. But wasn't this why he had been reincarnated? To make better choices, to achieve even greater things?
He stared at the horizon, where the sun was beginning its slow descent, casting long shadows across the sands. The desert stretched endlessly, its harsh beauty both inspiring and intimidating. Just like his dream.
With a quiet sigh, Hiroshi nodded to himself. This was the right decision. The old man—gruff, mysterious, and undoubtedly skilled—was the mentor he needed. He might not understand Hiroshi's full vision yet, but that didn't matter. What mattered was that Hiroshi had found someone who could help him take the first step.
A small smile tugged at Hiroshi's lips. "A mentor and a reliable source of materials," he murmured to himself. "Not bad for a day's work."
The journey wouldn't be easy, but it no longer felt insurmountable. For the first time since he'd set his sights on puppetry, Hiroshi felt a spark of confidence—not just in his abilities but in the path he was about to walk.
Tomorrow, he'd return to the shop. Tomorrow, the real work would begin.
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Hiroshi rushed down the sandy streets of Sunagakure, his small frame cutting through the bustle of merchants and villagers. His academy bag swung at his side, still packed with notebooks and the small lunchbox his mother had prepared. Sweat dripped down his temples, a combination of the relentless desert heat and the morning workout he'd pushed himself through at the academy. Training had become part of his daily routine—strengthening his body and refining his control over chakra. It left him exhausted, but today, the fatigue barely registered. His heart thumped with anticipation.
He had already told his parents where he would be going after school. His father had given a curt nod, a rare smile playing on his lips, while his mother had packed an extra snack "just in case." He was glad they didn't object; this was too important.
Finally, Hiroshi arrived at the familiar toy puppet shop. He pushed the door open, the faint jingle of a bell announcing his arrival. The employee who he had mistaken as the shop's owner glanced up from the counter and gave a casual wave.
"You're back already?" the young man asked, raising an eyebrow.
Hiroshi grinned. "Of course! Where's the old man?"
The employee smirked, leaning back on his stool. "In the workshop, as usual. Go through the door at the back."
Nodding in thanks, Hiroshi wasted no time. He weaved through the shop, ignoring the colorful wooden toys and intricate mechanical figurines that dotted the shelves. Pushing open the door the employee had indicated, Hiroshi stepped into a smaller room.
The air inside was filled with the faint smell of sawdust and oil. Tools and half-finished parts were scattered across a long worktable where the old man sat, meticulously carving a piece of wood. Hiroshi's eyes widened as he recognized the beginnings of a puppet arm, the joints and grooves already taking shape.
The old man looked up and smiled. "You're early."
"I couldn't wait," Hiroshi admitted, stepping closer.
"Well, no matter." The old man stood, brushing wood shavings from his apron. "Come on."
Hiroshi tilted his head. "Where are we going?"
The old man chuckled. "The workshop."
Hiroshi blinked, glancing around. "Isn't this the workshop?"
"This?" The old man waved dismissively at the cluttered room. "This is just one of my personal worktables. The real workshop is somewhere else. Follow me."
Curiosity piqued, Hiroshi trailed behind as the old man led him out of the shop and down a narrow alley. They stopped in front of a large, nondescript warehouse. The metal doors groaned as the old man pushed them open, revealing a sprawling interior.
The first thing Hiroshi noticed was the noise—a symphony of whirring machines, hammering, and occasional bursts of laughter. Workers bustled about, assembling toy puppets on conveyor belts, welding mechanical components, and inspecting gears under magnifying lenses. The scent of hot metal and machine oil filled the air.
Hiroshi frowned, confused. "Are they making... toys?"
The old man chuckled. "That's the main business. These toys keep the shop running. But don't let it fool you. What we're about to see is far more interesting."
He guided Hiroshi through the bustling workspace to a smaller, secured room at the far end of the warehouse. The old man unlocked the door and pushed it open, motioning for Hiroshi to step inside.
Hiroshi hesitated at the threshold, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. The room was vast, lined with shelves packed with strange tools, wires, and components. Workbenches were covered in blueprints, half-finished puppets, and various mechanical parts. It reminded him of an old mechanical lab from the 1980s or 1990s, with its sturdy metal furnishings and industrial feel. But what caught his attention was the unexpected presence of electronics—small cameras, motors, and even circuit boards neatly arranged in one corner.
"Surprised?" the old man asked, his voice tinged with amusement.
Hiroshi nodded. "I didn't expect... this."
The old man gestured for him to come closer. "Puppetry isn't just about using chakra threads to control wooden dolls. That's the tradition, sure, but tradition alone can't move the craft forward. My dream is to expand puppetry's reach. Why should it be limited to shinobi? Ordinary people should be able to control puppets too. That's where electronics come in."
Hiroshi stepped further into the room, running his fingers lightly over a set of finely crafted gears. His gaze lingered on the small cameras and circuit boards, a mixture of intrigue and surprise bubbling within him. "You mean... you want puppets to be more than tools of war or entertainment?"
"Exactly." The old man's eyes gleamed with enthusiasm. "Puppetry is an art, a science, and a tool. Imagine a farmer controlling a puppet to harvest crops or a craftsman using one to build intricate designs. Why should chakra control be the only way to operate them? Electronics can bridge the gap."
Hiroshi paused, taking in the old man's words. His mind raced, drawing parallels between the man's vision and his own experience from his past life as an engineer. It was the kind of thinking Hiroshi had encountered often—pushing boundaries, integrating new technologies to solve problems, and making tools accessible to everyone.
It struck him that the old man's perspective aligned perfectly with the mindset of modern-world engineers. This wasn't just about tradition or artistry; it was about innovation, breaking molds, and improving lives through clever design and functionality. For the first time, Hiroshi felt a deeper respect for the craft, realizing it wasn't stuck in antiquity but rather brimming with untapped potential.
"This workshop," the old man continued, gesturing around, "is where tradition meets innovation. And if you're serious about learning, this will be your home away from home."
Hiroshi nodded slowly, determination hardening in his gaze. "I'm ready."
The old man smiled. "Good. Let's get started."